#i got better and missed playing so i played like crazy

[grotesquevi]

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎after she's injured she has nowhere to go but your place.

18+ mdni, men go away, thigh grinding, titty love, fingering, dirty talk, pet names, slight degradation/dumbification blink and miss it, ass play, spit, there are descriptions of a 'wound', but i'm no doctor sorry if you are. 2.5k

side note — if you recognize this it may be because my previous account @vicorices got deleted out of nowhere, i'm trying to get all my work back up again cause of tumblr's dumb ass, check out my masterlists to help me out fic hunting!

it’s not fair she’s so into you.

makes her weak cause she has to surrender to you in the end, no choices allowed cause sevika knows, deep down, it's not going to stop as much as she'd like it to. not when you're grinding on her leg like that, when you're coating her skin with arousal so deliberately, making her look down just to find out the wet splotch in your underwear getting bigger and bigger with each roll of your hips, the moans filling the air of your living room — she has no use but to let you get off from something so simple as riding her thigh, mainly ‘cause it's a personal need too.

"you're takin' good care of me, aren't you sweet girl?" now usually, she does a better work staying away from you, avoiding you as much as it's possible; but it gets difficult when she knocks on your door at three in the morning, bleeding out and capable of tossing her pride aside in no time, whatever cost it may bring. "lift up your shirt and let me see those pretty tits, i deserve to see more of my girl."

well fuck, when did it get so personal?

must be when you have told her not to come near your street several times, a non-spoken rule she respects until she has nowhere to go, opening the door so damn mad she thought you were going to kick her out for a second cause she can help but be a damn flirt around you, leaning into the wall even when she's bleeding — seeking for your attention.

it's always like that when she gets too attached to someone, as much as she tries to avoid it she ends ups carrying them too close to her heart: silco in the moment, crazy ass jinx, that damn kid who’s always following, she gives loyalty like dog, so it's suffocating. cause you don't kick her out like she secretly wishes to, but instead, you push her inside, helping her walk to your sofa as you kneel between her legs, bitching about not being a doctor, about not being able to help her as you look at the cut closely.

and sevika knows she shouldn't have come to see you cause you look so damn inviting it's annoying, alluring with those big eyes you give as you look up to her, the concentrated face as your fingers shake over her skin, helping her out like she asks you to, shivering under her words of encouragement when you're sewing her skin back together after five minutes of pure whining.

it’s safe to say it slowly consumes her, your breathing against her sore skin. does things for her, half delirious for the amount of times she's been trying to excuse herself by saying she's dizzy from blood loss, a fucking lie you can tell already — “stay there for a while” she asks when you finish, cupping your face in the palm of her flesh hand, thumb rubbing against your cheek, tracing the outline of your lips afterwards "there's not a single thing you do wrong huh? not even stitch me up on a lonely friday night."

“what are you doing?”

“you know damn well what i’m doing, bunny. i miss you," everything's so fast after that, her voice is husky as she speaks, playing with the strands of your hair, twirling it in her index finger, relishing the sensation of you close to her once again — "i miss you. fuck i miss you so much it's burning me alive."

it's an old habit, it's enough to make you crumble cause you're allowing her to make you sit on her leg, gasping as the cold metal of her mechanic arm holds you down while the other caress your side without a rush: she has nowhere to be but there, with you on her lap.

you'd like to be difficult now, play hard to get even, but it's so right in the moment, like you've been craving it for weeks you don’t dare to say a single word — "you're going to pull out your stitches like that" you mutter instead, voice raspy when she's moving your hair to the side, sucking on the skin of your neck until she's sure it will leave a mark behind, reminders of all being real. "sev-"

"i can handle pain, i don't care" sevika fully believes it, squeezing the skin of your waist. she missed having you like that — "don’t make up excuses, just tell me to stop. tell me if you want me to leave, cause i won’t do it on my own."

it’s tempting, yet you cannot say it as you stare at her, at her gray eyes, the new haircut and the blueish scar in her cheek: you want her there. "you’re injured, you’re not going anywhere like that."

“no,” she shakes her head in denial, not quite the answer she expected to hear — “tell me you want me to stay cause you want me to, not because of a wound. because you miss me too.”

greedy bitch. she’s enjoying every second of it, knowing damn well she got you under her skin already, that she can get out a response from you every time she puts a finger on your skin. “you know i miss you."

fuck her pride. fuck anything else but the taste of your lips, the sounds you make when you enjoy something too much muffled against sevika’s hungry cavity. it’s almost feverish as her tongue rolls inside your mouth, squeezing your cheeks as she stoles the air from your lungs, your heart racing by the seconds.

that’s how you got to that point at least, cause she's kissing you dumb for a moment and the next one she's holding your ass with a tight grip, pushing you against her just to make you remind her about her stitches, her recent wounded state, but in all honesty she's not really listening to any bitching, no; sevika's deeply lost in her senses, the sight of you getting messier with each one of her kisses, the scent of the bubble-gum induced taste in your mouth mixing up with her own saliva — the engulfed moans that somehow makes you look needier than you already are.

and you're not telling her to leave, not receiving any complain as her flesh hand tugs on the fabric of your shirt like a fair warning that you already know what it means, you're not being rational cause you miss her deeply, so much time needing her you cannot help but give in, even when you'd call yourself insane sooner or later.

"i miss you," it's like a poem sevika wishes to hear over and over again, how you, very much like her, are being thrown at a constant state of aching. "i miss you a lot, and it's not fair. keeping me around like this-"

your hand rest over the stitches you covered with gauze, and fuck, she must be damn tripping, cause you're straddling her lap, shirt riding over your stomach giving her the damn royal treatment and you have the decency of being careful with her, gentle.

no. she does not want to be in love, not ever again, but she's betrayed once again as her silent big heart is choking because she's seeing you again, falling apart like you used to, taking the privilege of something so private for herself, surrendering to an act of pure war and love cause that's what she came for in the first place, you.

"don't move. i can do it for us both," do you have any idea of how difficult it gets for her? with you speaking like that? "please. don't bleed out on my couch. need you alive tomorrow, don't move much."

"you're takin' good care of me, aren't you sweet girl?" — your hips began to move against her tight and it's like you want to show her how much you love grinding on her leg like a fucking puppy, how you missed the pleasure she can only bring, how you been missing her."lift up your shirt and let me see those pretty tits, i deserve to see more of my girl."

she lights the cigarette you were smoking cause she don't want to piss you off, enjoying the simple pleasures of life cause she loves it when you take control, giving you space to remove your shirt only to let her see you fully, the sweat going down your skin, the movements in your waist as you try to ride her better.

hell of a show.

and even as you try to muffle your moans, it's pretty impossible when your underwear sticks to your pussy cause of the stupid amount of arousal that now stains the fabric, the constant contact with her pants that being so sensitive makes you docile, compliant to any of her wishes, the hungry look she gives you comfortably seated, the weight of sevika's gaze traveling from your half lidded eyes down your chest until between your legs, a triumph half-smile on her lips as as the smell of your apple tobacco fills the air.

"you're dripping in my pants baby, can't wait f'me to take them off?" she asks, and her fingers create this line as they touch from your neck to your mount, stopping over your breasts, kneading them in her whole hand — "can't be this wet just for riding me bunny, i haven't even touched you yet. do you miss me that much ma'? miss being my pretty whore?"

she knows where to touch, where to kiss as if she forgot about the damn pain in her sore muscles, like the entire world narrows down to you. the cigarette consumes on the ashtray as she leans to suck on your already hard nipples, tongue roaming from one to another, tugging and biting at her will before you make her breathing hitch on her throat — "stay with me tonight."

it's a bad idea, but your hand guides hers down to your cunt and it's physically impossible for sevika to say no to you, deny your wishes cause she's so down to give you whatever you need, an invitation that makes her chest full of pride as she makes your underwear to the side, quickly coating them with clear gush as they slide between your soaked folds.

"vika-" whatever you might say dies in your tongue, gets lost in the air as two fingers come up to your swollen clit, sensitive already against her touches that do not go past the necessary, a back and forth motion that pushes you tantalizingly close to the edge — "baby."

"want to you feel you through my pants," your hole is clenching around nothing, forcing you to move as her mechanic hand shoves you against her leg. "be good and cum all over your pretty underwear."

your body shakes involuntarily, cause it only takes her muscular thigh, dirty words and her fingers on your clit to make you act up all desperate, a loud moan escaping your lips when finally reach your much desired peak, watching in awe how you disintegrate for a moment and everything seems to become meaningless.

"i cannot touch you with these on," sevika mutters seconds after, not close to having enough as she pulls on the string of your soaked underwear, unusable now as she makes you stand between her legs before she's all over you, struggling to keep the hands to herself as she hugs you, gripping the curve of your ass to pull you against her, face resting right over your waist as your hand caress the black strands of her recently trimmed hair.

you’ve heard it before, the advice you tend to ignore: she’s no good for you, she's no good for you as she makes you turn around, coaxing you with praises only to have you bend right over the waist, when she makes your underwear fall to the ground and you're leaning to bare yourself to her eyes only.

and it makes sevika salivate, needy at it's worst when she can notice your wet folds, the way you're dripping down, creamy white right in your untouched hole, messy and asking for more. your clit’s already puffy, pushing her to just touch, make you beg for more so she's weak, weak as keeps you there, showing your ass like it was all her's to take, warm and pliant as she plunges two fingers inside your needy cunt, slowly making room for her thick digits until she’s stretching you open.

your legs shake as sevika's fingers sink inside, and she's so eager to see, the zaunite finds herself moving to have a better view of the traces of your already wet cunt sticking to her hand, of your pussy already twitching, sucking her back in.

"look at this" the woman trails off, drunk on the sight of you spread in front of her eyes, the bliss when you're looking at her from over your shoulder with a cheeky smile that will stick on her memory — "makin' space for me s'good bunny, can you hear that? the sounds of your cunt taking me perfectly?"

there's no time for answering cause sevika's taking, too high on you, on the reactions of your body as she spreads you open, kissing on your ass cheeks before her face's there and her tongue is pushing against your pucker hole, gathering a good amount of saliva to spit on it.

"mmf-please," you loudly whine "m'gonna cum-"

sevika wants the moment to linger, make you cum over and over again but she cannot stop when she's seeing the transparent color of her saliva mix up with your arousal as her fingers fucked you at a much faster pace now. her nose darts against your skin, and she has to help you stand when she's licking your rear so eagerly, circling the ring, teasing you with focused licks, pushing dangerously against your tight hole.

and the sight of it is nasty, blush creeps upon your neck as her mechanic arm grabs your hand to place it in your back, the slam of her own fingers almost irritating her as they make you move forward with each thrust, far from her mouth.

sevika’s oblivious for a second. it's not her fault either way, cause you cum right in her fingers, panting out your ex-girlfriend's name as your body goes limp and she has to take you right in her arms cause you cannot seem to hold your own weight.

it’s imposible to think about the stitches, and more importantly — about the fact that she cannot stay by any means. no when you're always better off without her in the picture.

could it get any better in her safe heaven?

[orangepeelknives]

something i lowkey think deserves more attention is mack's relationship w aiden and how it fits into the will of it all. 

imagine being aiden, like, youre the older brother, and youre good enough at hockey, but your younger brother is a fucking superstar. plus the rick thing - the overcompetitive, constantly working nature of the family? and you both play for the same school except when mack is there he's 17 but still the fucking superstar and your parents are probably saying oh you have to look out for your baby brother take him to hang out with your friends and then he's going to nhl as first overall pick, getting nominated for the calder, lighting it up, and you barely even got drafted, are gonna be fighting to get that ELC still when your younger brother is signing an 8x8. now imagine being mack, and being aware of all that, but also being fucking competitive and emotionally stunted and starved for affection. 

mack and aiden's dynamic isn’t surface-level chirping and easy banter. it's complicated. there's love, for sure, but also resentment, defensiveness, comparison, years of living in the same pressure cooker with ricky as the one holding the stopwatch. and the coach is always gonna work harder at the kid who's better thatd lowkey just a fact. so imagine ur aiden and ur dad is the coach and you literally cannot escape comparison w ur younger brother and u just kinda have to get slowly left behind. 

so now imagine ur mack. and you love your brother, because it was always you and him. side by side. hauling ass to the gym together at age ten. racing each other on the ice at six in the morning. playing mini sticks in the hallway until someone bled. you love him like a limb. and also? ur in constant competition with him. not because you wanted to be, but because that’s just what your house was like. it was built that way. improvement charts on the fridge. split times tracked in a spreadsheet. feedback doled out at dinner. and it wasn’t even mean - it was just the air you breathed. get better. go again. don’t fall behind.

but when you’re mack? you don’t fall behind. he does. and that messes you up. because it’s not like you asked to be this good, it’s not like you wanted to hurt him. but you did. by accident. by existing. by accelerating so fast you couldn’t even look back to check on him. and now your whole family dynamic is off-balance and no one talks about it because everyone’s pretending it’s fine. and when you do try to talk about it, it comes out wrong, defensive or stiff or too intense, bc you’re seventeen and anxious and already too famous and you don’t know how to say “i’m sorry i left you behind.”

and the worst part is: you didn’t mean to leave him. you missed him. you wanted him next to you on the ice and in the locker room and on the bus. but you’re the one getting Calder buzz. you’re the one everyone calls a “generational talent.” and he’s… fighting to get signed. and you don’t know how to shrink yourself enough to make it better. you just know it hurts. you’re guilty. you’re proud. you’re lonely. and you have no idea what to do with that combination.

then you meet will.

and will is right there. right on your level. not just talent-wise, but intensity-wise. and the second you’re on the ice together it’s like a switch flips, immediate chemistry, freakish synergy, like you’ve been playing together your whole lives. and then off the ice he’s just as fast, just as keyed in, just as much.and he doesn’t need you to shrink. he doesn’t ask you to slow down. he matches you.

and even better? he doesn’t resent you for it. not when you score. not when you freak out, not when you lose it and snap a stick or get jealous or act a little crazy, he just grins and chirps you and lets it pass. lets you be too much. and that’s maybe the first time in your life you’ve had that. someone who doesn’t feel smaller because of you. someone who doesn’t pull away.

so yeah. of course mack clings to him. of course mack follow him around like a shadow and begs for his attention and acts out when he’s not paying you enough mind. because he makes him feel safe in his bigness, he makes him feel okay being the guy who moved on, the guy who’s great. will's out here assisting on every single goal for your first hat trick and there's nothing but genuine excitement for mack!!!

[gaeulssims]

˗ˏˋWe got a messy eater in our midst´ˎ˗

Guava still hasn’t learned to eat without throwing her food around. Look at her being proud of it too. Prev | Next

[duck-woamn]

My first theatre show has happened today. I actually think we did pretty good! Especially for a show with 3 different grades and different acting levels!

[risingsunresistance]

idk if i'll be sharing the entire thing or not (if i do it'll be on main and i think i'll clean it up first) so have a sketch of my oldest splatoon oc and self insert getting hit with the aro blast jdhfh

realized it had been so long since i'd drawn him that he didn't even know... poor guy. it'll click don't worry 🙏

[skyburger]

WHAT THE HELL NOBODY EVER TOLD ME TWO OF MY FAVE VILLAGERS GOT A LINE STICKER TOGETHER. ive loved tabby for YEARS like since 2019 at LEAST. and these stickers are from 2018 how did i not know !!! i love tabby and boots so much 😭😭😭 TABBY AND BOOTS ANIMAL CROSSING I LOVE YOU SO MUCHHHHH OOMFS FOREVER AND EVER

[salsflore]

⠀

[parrish-the-thot]

A continuation of this post I made

I imagine Steve genuinely doesn’t think about Eddie, like at all. Besides the occasional “what is he yelling about in that table” or “ Munson actually showed up to class” or once in sophomore year he thinks “how much does Munson charge for an ounce of weed? Would he take a $50 for an ounce” which causes Eddie to wait around all day at the picnic table wishing for some shmuck to offer $50 for just an ounce, but no one shows up (Steve had to go pick up Dustin after school and didn’t want him to find weed the weed when he inevitably starts going through Steve’s car)

The lack of soulmate thoughts really irks Eddie, because he knows his soulmate is in Hawkins, but he never thinks about Eddie, like at all??? Positively or negatively?? Eddie jumps on more tables, he blares loud music from his van, he is in a band, he is the drug dealer for all the teens in Hawkins and all his soulmate thinks is “why the fuck did Munson double park his van, I’m going to be late looking for a parking spot now” it absolutely drives him crazy.

He eventually figures out his soulmate must be a jock of some kind because one day he hears “what is Munson doing under the bleachers?” when some sports team is let out of playing with balls practice. He is briefly heartbroken his soulmate isn’t a nerd like him, but then spends the night thinking about how a certain fluffy haired jock could play with his balls anytime.

Steve isn’t not thinking about Eddie on purpose, but they just don’t run in the same circles, so he doesn’t really think about him too much, just in a genuine, “I don’t know them, don’t interact with them, so I don’t really think about them” sort of way. Especially after befriending the kids, Steve’s focus goes to keeping them safe and being a babysitter instead of finding his soulmate.

Steve’s experience with his soulmates thoughts is completely different. Starting in middle school he heard his soulmate think he was cute which he thought was nice. As he got older his soulmate would still think he was cute, but also handsome or pretty which, he doesn’t know any girls who call their boyfriends pretty but ya know, he can roll with that. He thinks he will have to roll with a lot of stuff, since hai soulmate seems to into a…a lot of interesting things, to say the least. Steve has dated a lot of girls but none of them seemed to want to rub their face in his chest hair like his soulmate did, who also wonder is Steve was that hairy everywhere which- he was but he didn’t think a girl would want to know about that.

He would be in the middle of a basket ball game and he hit with a 15 minute monologue about how wonderful his ass looked in “thise little green shirts that ride up his ass in the best way” and how his soulmate “wanted to be those shorts” causing Steve to miss three different shots. Also with all this wildly kinky stuff and even general sex things Steve has never heard of or thought about he figures he should become more knowledgeable to better be prepared for his soulmate.

One day when Steve is cleaning up a drink he spilled in the cafeteria and heard “god Harrington looks good on his knees, bet he would look even better with my cock in his mouth” figures chances are his soulmate isn’t a girl at all.

With not much else to loose and a new door opened up to him, Steve starts spending time thinking equally horny thinvs about different guys he sees in class, just to see if they will react to what he is thinking. This is how he figures out Eddie is his soulmate.

Steve notices eddies table is getting a little rowdy, as is always does before Eddie gets up on someone’s table and he rants about jocks and preppy girls while stepping on people’s lunches, Steve thinks “what if comes over here, spits in my stretched out hole, and fucks me right next to Heathers Halloways tuna sandwich”

Eddie, whose soulmate didn’t even think about Eddie that one time his car got spray painted a fit was all the school talked about for a week, was NOT expecting that at 12:30 on a Tuesday and promptly trips on a chair and slams face first into the lunch table, breaking his nose.

Eddies friends rush him to the nurse and Steve is torn between this being a sign Eddie is soulmate or Eddie just clumsy, Steve has seen him walk into a door twice, so he don’t 100% sure. Steve decided to test this anytime he has a clear viewpoint of Eddie and starts thinking the most horny, kinky things possibly about Eddie to see if Eddie reacts proves he is Steve’s soulmate (also revenge because Steve had to go through years of Eddie horny pondering interrupting Steve during important tasks games or tests so Steve figures he should pay that forward during eddies dungeons and dorks games)

[ofstarsandvibranium]

3 Types of Neck Kisses

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: Here are the 3 different ways Bucky kisses your neck.

Warning: light smut - fingering and p in v

Lovingly

It's late and you don't want to fall asleep. You just want to enjoy this moment with Bucky. Now with him campaigning to be the next Congressman, he's hardly home. You don't see him much and miss him like crazy, but you can't fault him for this.

You're cuddled up into Bucky now. The tv in your shared bedroom plays on low volume. He face is nuzzled into your neck and you feel his breath on your skin. Your arms are wrapped around him, fingers running through his hair that has him purring like Alpine.

His own arms are wrapped around you as well. He tightens his hold on you, pulling you even closer to him. He presses kisses onto your neck and mumbles, "Love you, baby," as he peppers more kisses along your neck.

You let out a content sigh and mumble back, "I love you too, Bucky."

Sexily

You didn't let him have his way with you when you stepped out of the bedroom earlier. The dress you picked out for tonight's charity event clung to you in delicious ways, yet still created a classy aura around you.

You couldn't help but snicker as Bucky's eyes raked down your body, "Down boy. We're going to be late and this is your event."

He pouted, "Baby-"

You shook your head, "Nope. Besides, I spent all this time to look pretty, I don't want it to go to waste. Now let's go."

Now, it's well into the night. Bucky's already said his piece, thanking all of the sponsors, donations, and attendees for the night. Then the dancefloor opened up, more drinks started flowing, which meant no one would notice Bucky dragging you to the nearest unoccupied room.

As soon as you enter the room, Bucky shuts the door, locking it behind him. He presses you against the door, hiking up your dress, "Been teasing me all night in this fucking dress," he presses a desperate kiss to your lips and groans when he realizes, "Fuck, no panties either?"

"Surprise," you reply with a smirk and the man moans into your neck. He kisses and nips into your skin as he wraps your leg around his waist. His metal fingers rub at your clit.

You grip at the lapels of his suit jacket, "Buck-"

"Just wanna make sure you're ready for me, baby. Been trying to hide this hard on for hours," he murmurs into your skin.

"Been dripping for you since we got here."

"Naughty girl," he says as he bites into your neck and slowly enters you. You gasp at he fills you and do your best to keep quiet while he fucks you.

Comforting

The assassination attempt wasn't expected. He thought that after everything he's done, even being a close friend to both Captain America's, people's view of him would be better.

Obviously he was wrong.

Being shot at was nothing new to him, but you? It was foreign territory. You've never been a part of that side of Bucky's life. You never had to fight aliens or enhanced individuals. You were a complete civilian, so of course you'd take this a lot harder than him.

Bucky hated it.

Now you were plagued with nightmares of him being shot and it broke his heart whenever he woke to you whimpering in your sleep, crying for him.

"No, no, please," Bucky hears you say as he stirs from his slumber, "Bucky, no," he hears again.

He scoops you into his arms, "Darlin', I'm here. I'm here, baby. It's okay," he whispers, wiping your tears away with his vibranium arm.

Your face scrunches and then your eyes blink open. Eyes red and watery, you rasp out, "Bucky?"

"You were having another nightmare, sweetheart."

You groan, rolling away from him, wanting to hide, "I'm sorry."

He pulls you close, spooning you from behind, "Don't be. I'm sorry you had to witness that. I'm used to being shot at, but you-I wish you never witnessed that." He leans in, kissing the back of your neck, "But I'm here, sweetheart. I'm safe." he tightens his hold on you.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't ever be sorry for this." He kisses your neck again, "I love you, I'm here. I'm here, baby. I'm safe."

He continues to repeat these words to you, while kissing your neck, reminding you that your nightmares are just that, nightmares.

[lovelivision]

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎.❝ BETTER AT IT.ᐣ.ᐟ ❞

･ ⟢ ⋮ summary. . . they’re your incubus so why does it feel like they’re way more obsessed with you than you are with them? addicted to fucking you and frustrated that you're better at their job without even trying.

.pairings﹒ꕀ... 𝜗separate𝜚 fushiguro toji / reader˖₊ geto suguru / reader˖₊ gojo satoru / reader˖₊ kamo choso / reader˖₊

‎‎wc.⁀⊹ 4k

warnings.ᐟ.ᐟ 18+ only, smut, swearing, dirty talk, pwp, p in v penetration, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, fingering, creampie, cum play, they're pussy drunk, and down bad, possessive behaviour, obsessive behaviours, incubus!characters, slight dacryphilia, afab!reader, no pronouns used !!

˗ˋ�� FUSHIGURO TOJI ˎˊ-

No matter how many times Toji visits you he’s just as obsessed with the snug fit of your cunt wrapped around him as the first time. Each time he comes back he’s made the decision to have you in love with his dick, only for him to walk away even more addicted to your pussy.

Actively trying to seduce you and while he’s certainly succeeded, he also feels like he’s failing because what the fuck is it about you that has him going this crazy? His brows screwed up and teeth biting into his lower lip just so you can’t tell how lost and fucked he sounds.

He’s got you exactly how he likes you, folded in half and manhandling you to his hearts content. Your greedy cunt sucking him in so divinely he feels shivers run down his spine, lecherous grin on his face, “Did ya miss me, doll?”

Shaking your head defiantly at him, “Ah!– No...”

“Ya sure ‘bout that?” Toji leans down to you, his cock hitting deeper and making your lashes flutter.

He wants you to miss him, he wants to hear that you’re just as in love with this as he is. It’s meant to be his damn job making you obsessed and wanting for him and yet he’s somehow the one infatuated and pining for you. Always excited at the idea of visiting you again, at the idea of making you cry tears of pleasure.

It can’t be his fault though, not when you’re so fucking wet and soft around him every time. Your moans getting caught in your throat as you struggle to breathe against his sharp thrusts. You’re so pathetic and messy underneath him, his hands can’t help but grope at you lewdly.

Tongue licking at your lips obscenely, pulling back without kissing you, “Say ya missed me and my big dick and I’ll let you cum.”

For a demon he’s awfully needy, something you noted after his first visit. It’s not the first time he’s asked for something like this but he’s getting worse about it. The only reason you continue to deny him of those simple words being; he’s cute when he’s trying to beg without actually begging.

Sucking in a breath and teasing, “I missed your– hah!– your big dick, Toji!”

Oh, that’s just so cruel of you. His cock twitching at your whined words but still missing what you neglected to say. “Being unfair, doll.”

“I’m not– hnn– sure what you mean,” playing dumb and feeling like it should work considering you feel fucked dumb right about now.

Toji’s cock is driving in and out of you over and over again, pussy bulging around his thick cock and feeling him hitting your cervix relentlessly. Struggling to breathe with how it feels like he’s in your lungs.

He’s throbbing so hot and heavy inside you that it’s like your head is spinning, dizzy and melting with pleasure. Cunt pulsing desperately with how worked up he’s gotten you, slick dewy and loving around him. Begging for him to keep sliding into you every time he pulls out, you may not say you miss him but your pussy is doing the talking for you.

“C’mon doll…” his breath puffs against your ear, it has your back arching into him, “…you’re getting awfully close, why not just– hah– admit how much you missed me and I’ll let you cum all you want.”

Big eyes wet as you pout up at him, “If you– hnn– kiss me I might…”

Toji had refrained from kissing you every time he’s visited you specifically because he’s scared of just how overwhelmed it might make him. It’s the first time you’ve asked him to though, and it has him realising just how weak he is for you because he doesn’t even hesitate before his lips are seeking yours.

He stops his thrusts, pelvis flush to yours and completely still as he kisses you deep and savouringly. Tongue licking into your mouth as he gives into your lips with reckless abandon, a pitiful moan even to his ears leaving him. Feeling like he could kiss you forever, growing sloppy in how he sucks on your tongue.

So sickly sweet to taste that he might’ve gone crazy, quickly becoming captivated by your mouth and kisses. Not even realising that his hips have started rocking into you again until you whine and claw at his back, still folded over so obscenely for him.

The way he’s kissed you leaves you breathless and faint, even more so when he starts to softly grind and fuck into you again. Seemingly so lost in it himself that he couldn’t stop his hips, the friction on your clit makes you want to cry. Suddenly so much more on edge and sensitive, needy in the way you try to rut up into him.

Finally pulling back from you just so he can demand, “Say it.” He bites your cheek, “Like you said you would.”

You want to tease him a little more, tell him you said you might say it but you’re a little dazed and completely horny so you mumble out, “I missed you, Toji.” Smiling dopily at him, “I always miss you.”

Oh, oh, he feels like he might’ve gone to heaven despite his demonic nature. The soft call of your voice tinged in pleasure telling him that you missed him ruining him in a devastating way. Somehow his dick feels like it gets bigger inside you, your eyes rolling as he fucks into you with renewed vigour. All frenzied thrusts and animalistic growls as wet slapping fills the room, his head tucked into your neck where he bites and laves over it with his tongue.

“Toji!– ah! ah!– I’m gonna–” Hands slapping at him as you try to verbalise yourself, hips begging to fuck up into him but unable to with how he’s got you pinned. Only able to take his cock and cry about it, “–I’m cumming!”

Delirious chuckles leaving him, breathless and fucked, “You sure are~”

˗ˋˏ GETO SUGURU ˎˊ-

It’s a bit ridiculous how you have this big, bad demon wrapped around your finger, even more ridiculous that you don’t even seem aware of that fact. Geto doesn’t know how much more of this he’s capable of, and by this he means your obliviousness. Blissfully ignorant of just how frantically obsessed with you he is.

Eyes gluttonous as he watches the slick glide of his cock in and out of your creamy cunt, he’s got you bent over and on all fours for him. Your face pressed into the mattress so you’re practically presenting for him, a sight he’ll never get sick of. Hand pressing into your upper back just to make you arch for him that much more, evil grin on his face at how your pussy drools on his cock, begging for it.

Hands moving to your hips to grip hard and hold you still, no doubt he’ll leave marks of his hands in your skin though he finds himself obsessed with the idea. He wants to leave his mark on you, proof that you’re getting fucked so good by someone, by him. Not able to stop all the possessive thoughts he has regarding you, how is it that you’ve got him this in love with your cunt without trying? You’re clearly better at his job than he is.

He's fucking you so brutally that you’re a mess of whimpers and whines, fingers digging into the blankets below as you try to brace yourself against his thrusts. Head spinning and saliva dribbling into the sheets, fucked dumb already and you just know he’s nowhere near finished with you.

Suddenly he’s pulling out of you and it has you scrambling slightly, worried and achingly empty. Hole pulsing and begging for his cock again, a sight that makes his heart stutter and his cock jump. He lets your hips go and your lower half drops onto the mattress completely, weak and not expecting to hold yourself up.

Geto leans down into you, lips right by your ear, “Don’t worry, pretty.” He’s pressing flat into you, shoving his cock back inside your dripping heat like this, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Sugu, I– ah!–” Words immediately cut off by his quick thrusts.

He collects your arms and pulls them in front of you, his fingers interlocking with yours. His hips unrestrained and feral in his pursuit of pleasure, obsessing over how tight and wet you are, the wet sloppy sounds of him fucking into you over and over again like music to his ears.  

Letting his lips trail all over your skin, everywhere he can reach. Purring against you, “Who does this pretty pussy belong to?”

Brain foggy and slow but cunt responding to him immediately, twitching around him as you stumble out, “You– it– hnn– it’s yours, Sugu.”

And oh, fuck he can’t help the way he’s fucking into you even faster, mean slaps of his pelvis hitting your ass filling the room. It’s exactly what he wanted to hear, he just wants you so bad, he wants you to want him back. You have him so perfectly in the palm of your hand and he’s longing for you to feel the same about him.

“That’s right,” he drags out his words, like he’s comforting you and not confirming that he owns your cunt. “I’m the only one fucking this tight pussy, hmm?”

He’s going to drive you wild, perfectly pummelling into your g-spot over and over from this angle. Pitiful whine bitten out as you do nothing but take his cruel thrusts, his weight pinning you down into the mattress below, keeping you so devastatingly still.

When you don’t reply to him he gives a particularly sharp thrust, “You’re not letting someone else fuck you, are you?”

Even to your ears he sounds beyond annoyed and possessive, actually worried that you might be sleeping with other people. You shake your head at him quickly, “No!– ah! ah!– ‘course not.”

He repeats, “Of course not,” enjoying the phrasing deeply, “who else could possibly fuck you this good?”

Learning from your mistake, you reply quickly, “No one– hnng–”

“Mhm, you’re my sweet little thing to fuck, don’t go forgetting it,” he doesn’t know how much clearer with his intent he could be. Always so obvious about how dedicated to you he is, though you’re fucked pretty dumb every time.

Plus, you’re just so cute when you’re drooling over how well he fills you that he couldn’t possibly bring himself to be mad at you for not noticing. Smirking to himself at how your eyes are so unfocused and wet, he’s not sure you’re thinking of anything but the heavy drag of his dick right now.

He’s getting close to cumming, the more he thinks about how cute and fucked you are he’s throbbing and aching inside your dewy heat. Devotedly pounding into you, soft moans slipping from him that have you reacting viscerally. He can tell how much you liked it, your pussy gushing around him as soon as they leave him.

Taunting you, “Ah, you like the– hnn– sound of me moaning for your cunt?”

Chuckling to himself when you’re whining back at him, seemingly enjoying his voice a lot right now. Nuzzling the side of your face and kissing your cheekbone sweetly before crudely murmuring, “You don’t have to tell me– hah– I can tell how much you liked it. Pussy creaming around me over it, begging for me to– hnn– cum inside you.”

Working himself up in the process of teasing you, wanting nothing more than to cum so deep inside you that you couldn’t possibly hold it all, “You want it, pretty? Want me to finish inside you?”

You do want it, so bad, insides twisting and heart hammering at the idea of leaking his seed. Nodding your head sluggishly, “Please?”

You’ve got him breathless, “You asking?”

“Mhm.”

You’re going to be the death of him, he swears it, “Gotta make sure you take it all then,” grin evil and obsessive but so very fond of you.

˗ˋˏ GOJO SATORU ˎˊ-

If Gojo were smart, he would’ve stopped visiting when he felt himself falling head over heels for your sweet pussy but he’s not smart, not when it comes to you. Unable to stop himself from coming back every time for another taste of you, always promising himself it’s just one more time only to wind back up here.

He’s not doing his job well because he’s the one who’s always desperate to fuck you again and not the other way round. Starting to feel like you’re the one with magic and not him, he swears you’d have to be an angel though because the taste of you is divine. Always all too happy to dive into your cunt tongue first, eating you messily.

Tongue sinful in its movements, like it’s not really for your benefit but more so for his. Hands pinning your hips to the bed as he licks at your pussy how he wants, delighting in every mewl and sob you let out for him.

His hips pathetically grinding his aching cock into the mattress below, needy for friction but too consumed by your sweet cunt to pull his mouth off you now. Whining into your wet heat as his tongue slides into your snug hole, arms wrapping around your thighs and tugging you down into him more.

God, he’s driving you crazy. Cunt pulsing hot around him as you struggle in his grasp, barely able to take in a breath, “Satoru!– calm– calm down!”

A shake of the head that makes your toes curl is the only reply you get from him, his eyes drunk and wicked when they lock on yours. He’s so far gone and dazed that it makes you shudder under him, brows turning up as you whine at the expression on his face.

Putting more effort into shaking your hips under his hold, growing frustrated and desperate for his cock. He frowns and pulls back to speak, his mouth coated in your slick as he drools onto your pussy, “Fuck– hold still. I’ll fuck you in a sec just– you gotta lemme have this, sweetie.”

“I want you so bad though,” you probably look so pitiful and deprived as you almost beg him.

He hums low, gaze predatory, “Mhm, but I want to fuck you with my tongue until you cum so you’re gonna have to wait a moment.”

Heart almost breaking in his chest at the way you whine and plead for him, he wants to fuck you too, really bad. He just also really wants to taste your cum on his tongue before he does, giving you a small peck to your inner thigh before licking the whole length of your pussy. Smiling evilly at how your hips jump and you moan, tongue slithering back into your hole to drink down all the gooey sweetness you have to give him.

Really beginning to feel pussy drunk with how he slurps at your pussy, all depraved and lewd and sinful and all other words to describe his debauchery. Greedy in his love of your cunt, so in love with it that it’s fucking selfish how he eats you.

But you’re so close already without him even trying to make you orgasm, he said he’d fuck you after you did but that doesn’t mean that he was really trying to make you. Mostly he’s just enjoying the act of eating you out, almost disappointed that you’re close because it’ll mean stopping but then again, over the moon because it means he gets to swallow down all your creamy cum.

Your fingers in his hair tugging as your lungs shudder out shaky breaths, stuttered and pitchy moans tumbling from your lips as you finally cum all over his mouth. Gojo’s eyes damn near roll to the back of his head at the fresh taste of you all over his tongue. Unable to help the way he enthusiastically gulps it down. Groans caught in his chest as he keeps making out with your pussy.

So sensitive that it’s starting to hurt, his insistent licks driving you up a wall, “Stop! Stop ‘Toru– hnn– I can’t–”

Reluctantly, he pulls his mouth off you, only to spread your legs wider and start inching his aching and leaking cock inside you. The feeling of his big dick splitting you open has your walls fluttering around him, so fresh off your orgasm that you might still be cumming.

“I wasn’t done– fuck!– I wasn’t done,” he whines, “I wanted to keep– hnn– I wanted to keep my mouth on you, keep– keep my tongue in you.” Thrusting his hips a final time, bottoming out and keeping you so so full, “Next time– hah–” he stares you down, “next time, I’m not stopping until I’ve had my fill.”

“Give– give me a second,” you worry if he starts moving right now he might kill you.

He smiles at you fondly, hand stroking your head soothingly as he coos, “You’re so cute.”

“You’re gonna kill me, I’m gonna die,” eyes wet and glittery when you look at him.

“I would never kill you,” leaning in to plant a full and firm kiss to your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth so you can taste yourself on him. Sucking on your tongue obscenely before murmuring into the skin of your cheek, “I love this pussy far too much,” hips pulling back and giving a quick, short thrust to hammer home his point.

And even though it was only a singular thrust, the wind has been knocked out of you, whimpering against him as your nails dig into his skin. Gojo chuckles at your reaction, chest expanding with a delightfully warm emotion he doesn’t quite recognise. Lips kissing and teeth biting at your skin, wherever he can put his mouth.

Beginning to give light grinds into you, your snug cunt throbbing around him making him feel electric, “You’re so adorable,” he licks at a falling tear, “but you gotta get it together, because I’m fucking aching for this sweet cunt of yours.”

˗ˋˏ KAMO CHOSO ˎˊ-

The thought of never seeing you again hasn’t ever even crossed Choso’s mind, he’s well aware that he probably shouldn’t be so attached to you but when you feel this good and are always so very sweet to him how could he ever possibly stop coming to fuck you specifically.

So delightfully warm and sinfully tight that cumming without you seems damn near impossible now, you’re always on his mind, only waiting until he can come see you again. His head dizzy and fuzzy with how he feels about you.

You smell so good, so comforting and so you, keeping his head tucked into your neck so he can keep inhaling your honeyed scent. Hips pistoning into you devotedly, his previous orgasm spilling out around his fat cock. It’s a huge mess, how he’s fucking you, uncoordinated and frantic and just all around desperate but he really can’t help it.

All sensible thoughts gone from his head the moment he’s sinking into your slick heat, head filled with how good it feels and how adorable you are and how goddamn in love with this feeling he is.

Voice almost whiney when he speaks, “Why– why is it so good? You feel– I’m gonna– hnng– you’re so fucking pretty,” is eventually what he settles on.

His compliment has your skin growing hotter, tummy breaking out in butterflies, “Cho–”

“–Do you feel good? Hmm?– hah– Tell me you feel good?” He suddenly asks, eyes looking straight into yours.

He looks so fucked; skin all flushed a pretty shade of pink as he begs you to tell him how you feel. He’s going to ruin you, your heart stuttering at how frantic he is, “Hnn– I feel good, Cho– ah!– it feels good–”

A physical shudder runs down his spine at your moaned reply, head dropping as he groans, cock pulsing inside you as he gets that much closer to cumming again. “I’m gonna cum again– you– you feel too good– could– hah– fuck you forever– hnn–”

You’re clinging onto him for dear life because you’re getting close too, the sound of him fucking his own cum back into your cunt overwhelming you. Already so wet you’re gushing around him syrupy sweet, his cum only adding to the obscene mess and he’s about to give you even more.

The idea of being so stuffed full of him and his seed making your hips rut into him, cunt practically milking him, needy for it despite the fact he’s already given you what you’re begging for.

Choso’s going to lose his damn mind, your soft moans and cries as you try to fuck yourself up onto him as he thrusts into you setting him on edge. He knows you’ve got to be close, you’re getting so tight, cunt hot and pleading for it.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” He whispers it low into your ear.

That simple question enough to push you off the edge, nodding quickly at him as your orgasm wracks through your body. Nails clawing at his back as whinged moans leave you, clinging onto him for dear life as the pleasure completely overwhelms you. 

The way you’re shaking and squirming under him has him cumming again, spilling deep inside you as he shoves his cock in to the hilt. Whimpers leaving him as he grinds his hips into yours, choosing to muffle his moans by sucking hickeys into the side of your neck, your collarbones, just wherever he can reach from this position.

Eventually he stops rutting into you, leaning back onto his knees and slowly pulling out. Dick still so painfully erect, not having lied about being able to fuck you forever. The sight of you wrecked below him making his dick jerk, getting even more riled up by his cum leaking from your sloppy cunt.

Choso’s tone distracted, “You can cum again, can’t you?”

His voice is distant to you, not even having registered what he’s asked until his fingers are collecting all of his cum and stuffing it back inside you. Surprised whine heaving from your chest, legs shooting to close only to be stopped by his big hand holding you open.

“You can cum again, yeah? For me?” His eyes flick to yours, the look they hold is somewhat pleading and completely greedy.

Lower lip wobbling when you confirm, “For you?”

And fuck, his heart is stammering in his chest now because you looked so cute and ruined when you’d said that, “Mhm, for me,” he smiles, excited that you’re gonna cum one more time just for him.

One hand holding your thigh open lewdly while the other continues to collect the cum dripping from your hole, fingering it back inside each time. Everything about it messy and debauched and just so perfect to Choso. You’re so fucked full of him that he’s quickly growing addicted to this, unsure he’ll ever be able to go without cumming inside you from now on.

Three fingers stuffed into your tight cunt, fucking you so perfectly that your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. Hearing dulled as he makes every other part of you hypersensitive to his touch, back arching when his thumb presses into your clit.

Legs shaking as you moan, “Cho!– hah– I can’t– hnng– I don’t think I can–”

“–Don’t you wanna be good for me?” He pouts.

He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, the sweet look on his face as he lightly goads you. teeth biting into your lower lip, nodding your head back at him because you really do want to be good for him.

Oh, your reaction is so cute to him, he loves knowing you want to do this for him because he always wants to be good for you. Head light and so incredibly giddy at how lovable you are to him.

You’re getting close again, walls clinging to his fingers now, it has his cock throbbing. He wants to be back inside you again, hand moving off your thigh and wrapping around his dick as he continues to finger fuck you.

“You’ll be able to take me again, won’t you?”

𝒂.𝒏. i hope you all enjoyed !! i was feeling a little silly and decided to write another short multi character fic cause it's been a while ^^ lowkey i fucked with this idea for a whole fic but i couldn't pick who and i've got other things to write atm soooo 😛

[⚠︎] — 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈.ᐟ do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision

[uzurakis]

NEARLY C★UGHT IN THE ACT!

featuring: fushiguro megumi. itadori yuuji. gojo satoru. geto suguru. (characters are all aged up)

NSFW MDNI. fuck! ya almost got caught screwing . .

n. been in the drafts for way too long.. cz i needa clear my reqs but idc! i’ve been wanting to write this for the longest time. enjoy my lovelies <3

GOJO SATORU. “s-shit, how much i’ve missed this view,” gojo was sitting in his office desk, slighty pulling your hair to guide you to the rhythm he wanted. you felt yourself melting into him with his warm shaft in your mouth, ever soo big and too much for you, bobbing your head up and down.

just then, a sharp knock echoed through the room, startling you both. your heart raced as you instinctively tried to pull back from gojo. “s-satoru, we—“ his hand gripped your scalp more firmly than before, making you swallow his shaft until it hit the back of your throat. in other words, he didn’t fucking care. “just do your job, darling. and relax, they won’t come in.”

“even if they do come in, we’ll just say we were having a very hands-on discussion.”

GETO SUGURU. “i’m sorry, princess,” he whispered beside your ear as he hit you raw from behind, both pressed against each other in the dim light of a public restroom. his hands gently putting your hair to the side, “i just, ngh, need you so badly,” whilst his lips found yours again, silencing any further protest.

the sound of footsteps outside the door made you freeze, heart pounding in your chest as the door handle rattled. “someone’s out t-there,” you tried to say as you held back the moans. yet not only your heart was pounding like crazy, it seemed your boyfriend was also still pounding your walls despite the chance you two will get caught screwing in public.

“j-just a little longer,” he pleaded as the groans left his lips again. “i can’t get enough of you.”

ITADORI YUUJI. watching movies together was the original plan, until itadori’s cock twitched because you were sitting on his lap. your ass brushed against his bulge and that’s it. he couldn’t hold it any longer.

a split second later his boxers are on the floor, your panties pushed aside as he rocked your waist front and back. better than the movies, he thought, “i’m havin’ a nice view, baby.” you circled your hands on his shoulders when suddenly you heard a knock on the door. “shit,” itadori murmured as he panicked, slowing down the pace a bit. “i’ll handle this.”

“uh, 10 minutes! don’t come in!” he shouted deafeningly, you were certain that if the person still opened the door, they must have hearing problems to miss that loud shout. “see? problem solved. now, where were we?”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. with a frustrated groan, he hovered above you, laying your leg on one of his shoulders and pumping two digits in and out of your hole while he ran a hand through his hair. “why did you have to sneak in here? tsk,” a groan fell from his mouth, “you’re going to get us caught one of these days,” he grumbled, but his fingers playing around your pussy said otherwise.

“because i—ah,” you were the one squirming under his touch, “i-i wanted to be with you—“

“fushiguroo, are you there?” came the voice from the other side of the door. megumi sighed, his expression quickly shifting to one of annoyance. “busy!” he called out, forcing his other fingers over your throat to stop you from making any noise, and tried to keep his voice steady while fucking your insides. “idiot, just keep quiet, okay?”

@uzurakis

[blank-potato]

my kid's better than your kid

Pairing: John Walker x Reader

Summary:

“Listen here, Captain Suburbia,” you sneer. “Anyone with two functioning eyes could see your kid bodychecked mine like it was hockey practice.” “Well, the ref didn’t see it that way. So move on,” he snaps back without missing a beat. “Absolutely not! This is about accountability.” “There’s no need to give my kid a red card just because your kid—” John starts, hands gesturing like he's trying to explain away a traffic ticket. “Don’t even finish that sentence,” you fire back, jabbing a finger at his chest. “If you even imply that she was overreacting, I swear I’ll—” He holds up his hands, that smug look never leaving his face. “Hey, relax. Just saying, maybe things wouldn’t get so dramatic if you stayed on your side of the field.” You narrow your eyes. “Funny, I was just thinking the same about you.” Or You and John's kids are in the same soccer league, and after you get into an argument on the field over your kids, you start seeing him everywhere. It's hate at first sight.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ Explicit Content, hair pulling, mirror sex, oral sex (female receiving), p in v sex, breeding kink, sexual overstimulation, John Walker is a biter, No Superhero AU!, slow burn, enemies to lovers, dead spouse (I killed off his wife oop), John being a good dad, Ava Starr cameo

A/N: I feel like John would be one of those dads who's coaching from the sidelines at their kids' game, so I wrote this. I'm also obsessed with him right now so expect more fics

ᯓ⚽︎ ᯓ⚽︎ ᯓ⚽︎

Some might call you intense or insane.

A little crazy, definitely.

There’s a fire in you, always has been, and when it comes to your daughter, you didn’t play around. Every aspect of her life was important to you, especially her Saturday morning soccer games.

Though you didn’t know what intense was until you saw that dickhead across the field. Blonde hair, a trimmed beard, built like he probably hits the gym four times a week. His biceps flexed under his white shirt every time he threw his arms up at the ref, which, to be fair, was often.

If he weren’t so obnoxious, you might even find him hot, but you totally don’t find him hot. He was pumped up, red in the face, and just as invested in the game as you were. Pacing like a coach who got fired but still showed up anyway. He was shouting directions, clapping like his kid was about to be scouted, and cheering like it was the World Cup and not just a rec league game on a patchy field behind a middle school.

He was showing you up, so you started cheering louder for your kid. Because if this is a competition, you're damn well not losing it.

“That’s it, Lily! Give ‘em hell!” You shout, your daughter just smiles at you and goes back to playing, used to your competitive nature.

The man takes notice of you and looks at you like he isn’t also acting like a lunatic before cheering even louder. That rubbed you the wrong way. What gave him the right to look at you like you were the problem?

Then it happens.

You watch as your daughter gets slide-tackled for no reason.

And the ref? Doing fuck all about it.

“What was that call, ref?” you shout, already on your feet.

“I—” the ref starts, backing up as you approach. 

You trudge towards him, angry but trying to maintain a look of composed fury, like you weren't two seconds from setting the field on fire. 

The ref was used to your antics, and now every time he saw you storming towards him, he’d be sure that he’d be going home with a headache.

“No yellow or red card? She got slide-tackled,” you bark.

“It’s—”

“She didn’t even have the ball!” you snap, the words ripping out of you like they’ve been waiting. You’re so fired up, so high on rage and love and disbelief, you swear you could take flight.

“It was an accident, so there’s no need for that,” a voice cuts in, calm and condescending in the worst possible way.

You turn, and it’s him, the guy from across the field. The look on his face, the matter-of-fact tone, the casual smugness oozing off him like cologne. You hate him instantly. It was that easy.

“I’m guessing that was your son that ran over my daughter,” you say, each word clipped like you’re trying not to launch them at his face.

“Ran over?” he snorts. “Talk about an exaggeration.”

“It’s soccer, these things happen. You don’t have to throw a tantrum just because your kid's team is down two,” he adds, smirking like he thinks this is witty banter and not a declaration of war.

You scoff, hands on hips, already stepping into his space. The ref backs off like a man realising he’s standing between two charging bulls. This wasn’t a sideline spat; this was two planets colliding, and he wanted no part of the fallout.

“Listen here, Captain Suburbia,” you sneer. “Anyone with two functioning eyes could see your kid bodychecked mine like it was hockey practice.”

“Well, the ref didn’t see it that way. So move on,” he snaps back without missing a beat.

“Absolutely not! This is about accountability.”

“There’s no need to give my kid a red card just because your kid—” John starts, hands gesturing like he's trying to explain away a traffic ticket.

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” you fire back, jabbing a finger at his chest. “If you even imply that she was overreacting, I swear I’ll—”

He holds up his hands, that smug look never leaving his face. “Hey, relax. Just saying, maybe things wouldn’t get so dramatic if you stayed on your side of the field.”

You narrow your eyes. “Funny, I was just thinking the same about you.”

“That’s it! Take this off the field,” the ref finally blurts, hands up, voice cracking. “The kids have a match to play!”

You exhale sharply and hard through your nose, fists clenched at your sides. You try to calm yourself down, jaw tight, heart pounding. You sit and look out at your daughter, brushing grass off her knees and already back in position. 

She's tougher than you give her credit, but that didn’t change the fact that you wanted to put that guy’s head in the ground. 

After the game, her team, the Honeybees, lost after a few missed goals and lots of questionable calls, but your daughter was still laughing with her friends, unfazed in the way only kids can be.

You, however, were still stewing in quiet indignation when you spotted the world’s biggest jackass, in your humble, entirely accurate opinion, making his way toward you.

“Oh. It’s you,” you say, arms crossed automatically.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on your loss,” he says, all fake sincerity, like he wasn’t two seconds away from being shoved into a juice box cooler.

“How mature.”

“I try,” he replies with that same maddening, self-satisfied grin.

You narrow your eyes, ready for whatever condescending nonsense he might say next. If he says “good effort”, you’re swinging. Choosing not to let him fuck with you, you tell him what’s what. 

“Your team only won because of the ref’s bad calls,” you say, arms still crossed, tone sharp enough to slice fruit.

“Oh really?” he replies, lifting an eyebrow like he’s genuinely amused. Like this is his idea of foreplay.

“Yeah. My kid was dynamite out there.”

“So was mine,” he says back instantly.

“I mean, sure, but my kid has the most assists on her team,” you say, trying to keep your cool, even as your voice edges higher.

“Assists,” he echoes, nodding slowly. “Not goals.”

You blink at him. “Are we seriously doing this?”

“I’m not doing anything,” he says with mock innocence, hands raised like he’s never been petty in his life.

You press your lips together, biting your tongue so hard it might bruise. You didn’t want to, you really didn’t want to, but it slips out anyway.

“My kid can out-pass, out-hustle, and outplay any other kid on that field.”

He grins like he’s been waiting for this.

“Well, my kid can run circles around your kid while tying his cleats.”

Your jaw drops slightly. “Alright then, my kid was able to run a full field drill without missing a pass when she was five.”

“Well, mine could do cone drills backwards while coaching his teammate through theirs.”

Your eye twitches at that and he delights in seeing you so bothered.

“Lily has a killer left foot and once scored a hat trick with a stomach bug.”

“And Tommy is a human wall on defence.”

“Oh, please. Lily once did a bicycle kick and landed on her feet. What’s Tommy got?” You say, crossing your arms. 

“Perfect attendance and a clean penalty record.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at ‘clean penalty record’ but you keep it moving.

“Lily brings orange slices for the whole team.”

“Tommy brings strategy diagrams and pep talks.”

You pause, blinking. “Are we… bragging about how nice our kids are now?”

“Seems like it.”

You both go quiet for a beat, then he adds with a smirk, “Still doesn’t mean your kid’s better. I think you should admit to defeat.”

You step forward, just enough to make a point. “I’ll admit defeat when the Honeybees start losing because of their own mistakes, not because your future linebacker throws elbows like he’s in a bar fight.”

He actually laughs, and it’s a little too charming for your liking. Before you can wrestle with what that means, you hear a voice. 

“Dad!” his son calls from across the field, waving dramatically. “Hurry up, you promised we’d get ice cream!”

He glances over his shoulder, then looks back at you with that same smug glint in his eye.

“Again, enjoy your loss,” he says, already turning. “And get used to it. The season’s still young.”

You narrow your eyes. “Until next time, Captain Suburbia.”

He chuckles and starts to walk away, but pauses, turns back with a smirk plastered on his face.

“John,” he says. “My name is John.”

ᯓ⚽︎ ᯓ⚽︎ ᯓ⚽︎

“Uh, what are you doing?” 

“Hiding.”

“From?” Your friend, Ava, says as she looks around for the apparent danger. 

“John.”

Ever since that day, you were livid with the dickhead you knew as John Walker. You had never hated someone so much from just one meeting. You never wanted to see him again, but you did while shopping.

Ava takes a peek, “Oh, the hot soccer dad? Which one is he?”

You never described him as hot but Ava figured from the way you were kidding your mind over him, you thought he was. 

“Blonde, beard, tall and wearing a blue shirt.”

Ava sees him in the fruit and veg aisle and hums in approval, “Is he single? He’s right up your alley, no?”

You nudge her arm. “I don’t know. I mean, I didn't see him with anyone at the game…” You say your voice drifting off before you're back to your senses. “Whether or not he's single is irrelevant! He’s a complete asshole.”

“Just because he's an asshole doesn’t mean he’s not good in bed.”

The death glare you give her is intense and could be considered lethal, but she laughs it off. 

“Let’s be honest, if you weren’t attracted to him, you wouldn’t be so riled up.”

“Oh, please, I’m not into evil blonde men.”

Is he hot? Yes. But his evilness outweighs the hotness. 

“Well, the evil blonde man is coming your way.”

You look towards the end of the aisle to see that Ava was right, so you immediately duck down behind a tower of soup cans. 

“Please come out from over there,” Ava whispers but you protest, hoping you can camouflage yourself and become one with the cans.

Ten seconds pass, and you hear your name in that familiar voice and know you’ve been caught.

“Oh. Hi.”

Your attempt at being nonchalant is honestly pitiful, but not more pitiful than him knowing you were hiding from him.

“Don’t mind me, go back to whatever this is,” He says, gesturing to your hunched-over, goblin-like stance. He reaches over you and grabs a can off the shelf, walking off without another word. 

“See? No need to panic. He was perfectly civil,” Ava chimes in.

“Only because he caught me in a state of weakness. He has the upper hand, and he’s already plotting against me. I can feel it.”

“He’s a soccer dad, not a supervillain,” Ava sighs, helping you off the floor, concerned about the effect he was having on you, but then again, she was always concerned about you. You regularly lose your mind at your daughter’s soccer games so she has just cause. 

“I need to grab the wine, I’ll meet you at the checkout,” Ava says, and you nod, letting her walk off. 

You had to circle back around to get the limited edition coffee you had become obsessed with anyway. You get to the aisle and your eyes widen when you realise that there’s only one left. Your hand flies to grab it, you can already imagine it in your trolley, and it looks good. It looks happy, like it's ready to be at home in your pantry.

But at the same time, another hand wraps around it, the hand belonging to John, because fate was still playing in your face. 

“You.”

You thought you were done with him for the day. Clearly, the universe had other plans.

John raises an eyebrow, not letting go. “Come on. Be a gentleman and give it to me,” You say, trying to force a smile. 

Your grip tightens, so does his.

“I don’t think so,” he says smoothly, as if he weren’t just on the verge of sparking a full-blown aisle standoff. “It’s the last one.”

“I know.”

“I’ll have to go across town for another,” You say, your eyebrows knitting together. 

“Cry about it.”

You tug on it a little, but he doesn’t budge. The item wobbles dangerously between your hands.

“Are you even trying?” he asks. He was so good at being a smug bastard, you wonder if he was born like this or if he honed this craft. You open your mouth to really let him have it, but you don’t even get the chance. 

Without another word, he snatches it clean from your hand in one smooth move, drops it into his trolley like he just won Olympic gold, and starts walking away, whistling.

You stand there, mildly offended but mostly impressed.

“Oh no, you did not just—” you march after him.

“Too slow, sweetheart,” he calls over his shoulder without turning around. “Better luck next time.”

“I hope it’s expired!” you shout after him.

You stop walking and watch as he struts off with your coffee like he was the King of Aisle Seven, you were planning his downfall in at least three different ways.

And two of them involved shopping carts.

After the grocery store incident, you were looking forward to having a reprieve from John Walker. But it was like fate or something more evil was forcing the two of you together. You have a PTA meeting the next night, and who do you see there but John, who was now becoming a permanent fixture in your life. 

You sigh and sit beside the only empty seat, which was next to him.

“Let’s not even speak,” You suggest you say as soon as your butt hits the seat.

“Fine with me,” John replies as he crosses his arms, looking away from you. 

You sit there tapping your foot. It was almost painful being silent when everyone else was having conversations. Especially when you were next to a thief. You didn’t even get the opportunity to yell at him properly for swiping your coffee.

You finally break, “What you did yesterday was shitty.”

“And I thought we weren’t going to speak.”

“I’ll be sick if I don’t call out injustice when I see it.”

John laughs, and you want to strangle him. “You’re still thinking about that? I’m constantly on your mind, aren’t I?”

You shift in your seat, feeling the heat climbing up the back of your neck. How dare he even suggest that? Yes, you were thinking about him, but only about all the ways you wanted to destroy him.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you snap under your breath.

The meeting starts before he can muster up a comeback. You catch yourself zoning out as the agenda drags on, filled with tedious updates about the bake sale and a desperate plea for chaperones for the 3rd-grade trip to Lake Maribelle.

You swing your leg absentmindedly and accidentally bump his shin. It’s genuinely an accident.

“Did you just kick me?” he whispers.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t taking up half the space with your big—”

“You’re unbelievable—” He interrupts, turning his body to face you.

“Gangly legs, then you wouldn’t have gotten hit,” You whisper your sentence over his.

Your whispered bickering is only interrupted by the teacher at the front calling both your names.

“You’ll help chaperone the trip to Lake Maribelle?”

With all those expectant eyes on you, how could either of you say no?

“Yeah…”

“Of course…”

You both reply sheepishly at the same time.

“Great, I’ll sign the two of you up.”

ᯓ⚽︎ ᯓ⚽︎ ᯓ⚽︎

Stepping onto the bus, you watch as Lily disappears to go sit with her friend, leaving you with a slight pang of loneliness. You head to the front and slump into your seat, next to who else but John, because you can’t even be surprised. You really needed to start arriving at places earlier to avoid sitting next to him, but here you were.

It’s a four-hour ride, and you can already feel your exhaustion creeping in. You try to keep yourself alert, but your eyes are heavy. Before you know it, your head tilts to the side, falling onto his shoulder.

John glances down at you, noticing how tired you look. He’s always been perceptive like that. He doesn’t say anything at first, just shifts slightly to give you more space. But when he feels you drift further, he gently shifts, adjusting his posture. His shoulder feels like a small slice of comfort amidst the exhaustion.

He lets you use his shoulder the whole ride. You looked quite peaceful when you weren’t trying to rip his head off, quite beautiful too. John catches the thought and tosses it out. He couldn’t be caught slipping, you were his mortal enemy after all.

The bus reaches the camp, and suddenly, it jerks to a stop. Your head flies forward, but before you can react, John’s hand shoots out, catching your forehead in the palm of his hand just in time.

“Thanks,” you mumble, a little embarrassed but too tired to really care.

He just hums in response, his fingers lightly grazing your skin for just a second longer than necessary. “Quick reflexes.”

Hoping off the bus, you notice the camp leaders waiting to greet the kids. You stand off to the side ensuring everyone gets off the bus when you notice one of the teachers, Miss. Lucas, sidling up next to John, laughing a little too loudly at something he barely said. Your eyes narrow without even realising it, and your fist subconsciously tightens. It’s like a sudden surge of irritation hits you.

The worst part is that you don’t even know why you're so bothered. You’re pretty sure it's just your general distaste for him as a person, and anything he does seems to irritate you. That felt like the easiest explanation. No need to dig deeper into that nagging feeling in your chest, like someone’s poking it with a stick. You shake it off, willing yourself to focus on something else, anything else.

After you get the kids all settled in for the first activity, though, it hits you like a ton of bricks. The exhaustion. You’re winded in a way you don’t remember being before. You try to shake it off, but it’s clear that you’ve reached your limit for the day. This trip wasn’t as easy as you thought it would be, and now, even a simple walk feels like you’ve run a marathon.

You take a deep breath, looking around for a moment to regain your composure. There's no need to make a bigger deal out of it. Just power through, you tell yourself. But it’s harder than you expected, and you can’t help but wonder if it’s more than just the physical exhaustion that's weighing on you.

But at least John was out of sight. You didn’t have to see him on the nature walk or the obstacle course, but you’d have to supervise the canoeing together. You make it out there first, sitting on the dock as the kids are getting in the canoes with the instructors. A smile tugs at your lips as you see how excited Lily is, her face lighting up as she waits for her turn, then spotting you in the crowd. She waves enthusiastically, and you wave back, your heart swelling just a little at the sight of her so happy.

“Nice day out,” John says, looking out at the water. You’re shaken to your core. Not just because you didn’t hear him walk up, but because of what he said. What was this? A normal conversation starter?

You open your mouth to respond, but you're cut off by Miss. Lucas' syrupy voice slicing through the moment like a dull butter knife.

“It really is, and John, you really should wear sunglasses. With how blue your eyes are, the way the sun hits them is just distracting,” she purrs, twirling a lock of her overly straightened hair.

It’s laced with flirtation and just enough condescension to make your skin crawl.

You roll your eyes — hard.

John notices.

“What? You don’t like the sun?” he asks, amused now, that sharp gaze flicking to you like he already knows he’s poking the bear.

“I like the sun,” you answer evenly.

“Then what were you rolling your eyes at, huh?”

You’re so tempted to say exactly what’s on your mind. To call out Miss. Lucas’s thinly veiled thirst trap of a compliment, but you catch yourself. The last thing you need is her holding some petty grudge against Lily over adult nonsense.

So instead, you force a too-sweet smile and say, “None of your business.”

He chuckles, clearly entertained.

Miss. Lucas doesn’t seem to notice any of it. She’s still lingering like a wasp at a picnic.

John tilts his head, a grin still playing at his lips. “Touchy.”

Stepping into your space, he does that thing, that infuriating thing, where he leans in just enough to make your breath hitch but not enough to break any rules.

You guys just couldn’t seem to be near each other without someone stepping over the invisible line.

“And you’re observant,” you shoot back, voice low. “Someone might think you’re a little obsessed.”

His brow lifts. “Is that right?”

“You know what? I’m sorry, I'm being rude. Let me ask you this,” you say, your voice sweet and dangerous all at once, “Do you like water?”

“What kind of question is—?”

Splash.

He never finishes.

You shove him clean off the dock, and he crashes into the freezing lake with a satisfying crash. A few heads turn at the sound, followed by laughter, mostly from the kids.

John surfaces, sputtering, slicking his hair back with both hands as he glares up at you like a betrayed golden retriever.

“It’s freezing!” he shouts.

“Oh no,” you gasp dramatically, hand to your chest. “Is it? I had no idea.”

He blinks the water from his eyes, slow and deliberate, before gripping the edge of the dock with both hands and pulling himself up in one smooth, effortless motion.

It’s… a problem.

You might hate the man, scratch that, you definitely hate the man, but God help you, he had the audacity to look good doing literally anything. The sunlight caught the drops of water rolling down his arms, his shirt plastered to the ridges of his abs and the degenerate part of your brain wanting to see them with his shirt off. 

His hair dripped, tousled and messy in a way that looked too perfect to be accidental. It was like watching someone climb out of a cologne commercial.

You bite your lip instinctively, then immediately cover it up with a cough and a scowl.

He strides toward you, soaking wet, every squelching footstep a declaration of petty war. You’re forced to crane your neck to meet his eyes as he stops in front of you.

“You’re lucky,” he says, water still dripping from his sleeves, “that one of us knows how to act like an adult.”

You raise your eyebrows, lips twitching despite yourself. “You sure it’s you?”

He huffs a humourless laugh, then turns and walks down the dock toward the cabins, leaving behind a trail of wet footprints and a hundred silent thoughts you’re too proud to say out loud.

You watch him go and tell yourself it’s because you want to see if there’s the off chance he falls in. 

Definitely not because of the view.

You’re watching your back the rest of the day, fully expecting some form of petty revenge. A frog in your shoe, a cold fish under your pillow, maybe even your toothbrush mysteriously tasting like lake water. But nothing happens.

No pranks. No payback.

You’re in the clear.

Now, sitting by the campfire, the sky a hazy lavender above the treeline, things feel… calm. The kids are running wild around the open field, fireflies blinking to life as marshmallows roast and someone strums a guitar softly in the distance.

“Hi,” a small voice says beside you.

You turn and see Tommy, John’s son, standing there with a hesitant smile.

“Hey, having fun?” you ask, shifting to make room.

He nods and sits next to you, pulling his knees up to his chest. “The nature walk was pretty cool, and me and my friends loved  the obstacle course. And the canoeing was fun too… even though you pushed my dad in the lake.”

You groan lightly, a hand going to your face. “Yeah, about that…”

The guilt hits, a pang of embarrassment. You knew your behaviour was juvenile. Funny, sure, but maybe not your finest moment, especially in front of the kids.

You laugh under your breath and shake your head. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It was pretty funny,” Tommy admits, “And I know you and my dad have problems.”

You feel even more ashamed that it was bleeding into your kids' lives too.

“My dad can be a lot,” he says, kicking a pebble with the toe of his shoe. “But he’s just… I don’t know. He tries really hard. Especially for me.”

It helped you understand John a little better. The bluster, the sarcasm, the stubborn streak a mile wide… It wasn’t just pride or ego. It was effort. The kind that comes from someone trying to do right, even if it comes out messy. You could appreciate that because you were the same way.

And if he’d raised such a polite kid, then he couldn’t be all bad. Not even close.

“Have you seen him, by the way?” Tommy asks.

“Not lately,” you say, then gesture toward the table behind you. “But you can have some marshmallows while you wait, if you want.”

“Sure!” he says, lighting up as he grabs a stick and starts roasting.

John comes back to see something he wasn't expecting. The bane of his existence, laughing with his son and roasting marshmallows. Tommy didn’t warm up to most people that easily, so when he sees him lighting up with you, his opinion of you shifts. Maybe you weren’t an evil witch. 

You still got a bucket of freezing lake water poured over you the next morning, though. 

ᯓ⚽︎ ᯓ⚽︎ ᯓ⚽︎

You’re out running errands, finally—blissfully—alone. Lily’s spending the weekend at your parents' place, which meant you had time to catch your breath, clean without stepping on glitter, and maybe finally recover from the whirlwind that was the school trip.

You understood John better. You still thought he was annoyingly smug, sure, but maybe not completely irredeemable.

But you weren’t getting ahead of yourself. He was still the same cocky asshole you met yelling across a soccer field... right?

Just as you’re mulling that over, tongue in cheek, deciding if you’d imagined all the softness, you feel your car begin to slow down.

“What the—?”

You frown, tapping the gas. Nothing. A few panicked beeps. Then a sputter.

You manage to pull off to the side of the road just as the engine completely gives out, your car coasting to a reluctant stop.

“No, no, no!” you shout, slamming your palms against the steering wheel.

This couldn’t be happening. Not today. Not when you finally had a few hours of peace and you were this close to getting Thai food and going home to binge terrible reality TV.

With a heavy sigh, you get out and open the bonnet, even though you have no idea what you’re looking for. Wires? Steam? A glowing red light labeled you’re screwed?

You’re standing there, staring blankly into the guts of your car, when you hear it, a car slowing down behind you and parking behind you. 

You barely glance back, already waving them off. “Thanks, I’m good—”

But then you hear a too-familiar voice say, “Well, that doesn’t look promising.”

Of course.

You turn around slowly.

And there he is.

John Walker, ladies and gentlemen. 

“Need a hand?” he asks, already strolling over like he’s been waiting his whole life to rescue you.

“I uh…” You start becasure you’re so tempted to say “I got this” but the moment your eyes look back at whatever the fuck is going on in your car, you sigh.

“Do you have a toolbox?” he’d asked.

“Yeah, it’s in the boot,” you’d said, thinking nothing of it.

Then he came back, popped the hood, and casually peeled his shirt off with a warning: “Don’t read into anything. I just don’t want grease on my shirt.”

“I didn’t say anything,” you replied, a little too quickly.

You didn’t say anything, but that sure as hell didn’t stop you from watching. Because damn. The man was all broad shoulders, and strong arms that had no business looking that good twisting bolts.

You could’ve watched him work all day.

“Try starting it,” he called, interrupting your horny thoughts.

You slid back into the driver’s seat, turned the key, and the engine roared to life. It’s a miracle.

“Thank you, seriously.”

He leaned over the hood, smug smile fully loaded. “No problem. That should get you moving, but you definitely need to take this to a garage. I can come with you, if you want.”

Seeing the way your face contorts, he follows up with an explanation before you start berating him again. 

“You’ll need a ride home after, won’t you?”

“Oh, true… I guess I’ll take you up on your offer. I mean as long as I'm not keeping you from Tommy, am I?” You say as you watch him put his shirt back on.

“No, he's at his grandparents’ place.”

“Oh same with Lily,” You admit.

“Guess we have some errands to run together then.”

ᯓ⚽︎ ᯓ⚽︎ ᯓ⚽︎

You arrive back home in his car and say “Home sweet home,” because you didn’t know what the fuck you were talking baout. Ever since you watched him fix your car, haggle down the price of your repair with the mechanic and drive you home, you’d been in a bit of a daze. A ‘John Walker is the perfect man’ daze to be exact.

“Do you ... wanna come in?” You say, the words escaping you, but what you didn’t expect was his reply.

“Sure.”

You welcome him in, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest as John casually walks around your house. 

It was clean, for once and cosy too, filled with little signs of your life with Lily. Pictures lined the walls: school plays, messy birthday parties, soccer games. Her drawings were stuck to the fridge with mismatched magnets.

“This you?” John asks, voice tinged with amusement.

You turn to see him holding a framed photo from the shelf, a younger you, maybe around Lily’s age, standing proudly in a baseball uniform, cap askew and a dirt-smudged grin on your face.

You roll your eyes but smile. “Yeah. I peaked in Little League.”

He chuckles, eyes still on the photo. “You look like you were about to take someone out at home plate.”

“I probably did.”

He glances over at you, that familiar smirk on his face. “Not much has changed then.”

You snort. “Are you calling me aggressive?”

“I’m saying I’d definitely want you on my team,” he replies, setting the photo down gently. “You were a force to be reckoned with, no doubt,” he says with a chuckle.

“Always.”

“Are there more?” he asks, leaning a little closer with that annoyingly charming glint in his eye.

You cross your arms, sitting back a little as you narrow your eyes. “Nuh uh. We are not going through my baby pictures.”

“Yes, we are.”

And five minutes later, you were both on the couch with a photo album spread across your lap.

“You even look like a soccer ball in this one,” he teases, pointing to a photo of you in a puffy striped onesie.

“I bet you were an ugly baby,” you fire back, sticking your tongue out at him.

“I’ll have you know I was adorable. Practically a Gerber baby.”

He flips a page and pauses. “Is this you or Lily?”

“That’s Lily,” you say, your smile softening.

“She looks just like you.”

“I like to call her my twin,” you laugh. “And she hates it.”

Time ticks by, and you barely even notice it. The room has dimmed with the setting sun, shadows creeping in, and a warmth building low in your stomach. You’ve been flipping through photo albums for what must’ve been hours, laughing and teasing each other like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Then you hear it, John’s stomach growling, loud and unmistakable. You glance at him, and he’s already giving you a sheepish smile. Clearly, you’re both thinking the same thing.

“I was going to order Thai,” you say casually. “If you wanted to stay for dinner.”

He hesitates for only a second. “I’d like that.”

Later, the two of you are curled up on the couch, takeout containers spread between you, Real Housewives playing in the background. The chaotic drama on screen contrasts with the quiet ease between you.

It had been so long since you’d just relaxed like this with someone—someone who wasn’t Ava or Lily. And it felt good. Easy. Right.

“I have a suggestion, feel free to say no.”

“Hit me,” John says, leaning back against the couch, one arm draped over the cushion behind you.

You bite back a grin. “I have a bottle of whiskey that’s begging to be opened. Wanna throw on some music and help me put it out of its misery?”

He lifts an eyebrow, a slow smile creeping onto his face. “Why not?”

ᯓ⚽︎ ᯓ⚽︎ ᯓ⚽︎

You shouldn’t drink around him. At this point, you were touchy and honestly just saying shit for the sake of saying shit. You’re not too drunk but definitely tipsy enough to say whatever comes to your mind. 

“I haven’t seen Tommy’s mom around. Did you guys split up?” you blurt out, half-curious, half-dreading the answer. You feel a drop in the atmosphere as his hands seem to tighten on the glass. 

“Sorry, you don’t need to answer. That was weird of me to ask…” You're trying to backtrack as quickly as possible.

“Oh no, it’s okay, she uh,” he says quietly. “She passed a few years ago.”

You pause, your posture softening. “I’m so sorry…”

“It’s alright,” he says, voice low but steady. “Still tough without her, but we manage.”

He glances down, like he’s trying to ground himself before continuing.

“I’d like to say I was a good husband, but I was always away in the army. I could’ve been better before she…” He trails off, eyes now solely focused on the liquid swirling in his glass. 

You stay quiet, wanting to listen rather than rush in. 

“When I came back from my last tour, she was already sick. But for a while, we were okay. We were happy. Then she got worse. It was hard seeing her like that when she was so full of life before I left. I felt like I had missed so much, and when she…” He pauses again, his voice catching in his throat like he was being choked. 

“Tommy’s the only thing that kept me going after. I’m always scared I’ll mess things up with him and miss the important stuff. That I already am.”

He exhales sharply, almost laughing at himself. “Shit. Sorry. I’m rambling.”

“Not at all,” you say gently, shaking your head. “And I can tell you’re a good dad. Anyone can. He's such a sweet kid and he adores you.”

He looks at you then, and for once, there’s no smirk, no one-liner. Just quiet gratitude.

“Thanks,” he says. “That means more than you know.”

You both take another drink, the burn lingering in your throat like something you don’t mind holding onto for a while.

“What about you? I noticed there aren’t any pictures of Lily’s dad around,” he asks, voice softer now, like he’s not just making conversation anymore.

“We got divorced ages ago. He was a total disaster.”

You let out a dry laugh, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

 “We got married too young, had Lily, got divorced two years in and… I honestly can’t even remember the last time he showed up for her. No birthday messages, no calls. Nothing.”

You pause, trying not to let the anger twist your words.

“It’s a shame because she’s so amazing,” you add, staring into your glass. “And her dad doesn't give her the time of day and never has. She deserves so much better than that, and I wish I could be everything for her, but I…”

John’s quiet, listening. Really listening, giving you the space that you gave him. 

“It’s hard doing it on your own,” you say, looking up at him. “I know you get that.”

He nods slowly, then offers a small, warm smile. “It’s his loss. She’s a kick-ass kid with a pretty kick-ass mom.”

You laugh, the real kind this time.

“I genuinely thought you were about to fight me the day we met,” he says, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips.

You grin. “I was about to fight you.”

“Very hot.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling and, for the first time in a long time, it doesn’t feel exhausting to let someone in.

“Okay, Mr. Tight-White-Shirt,” you tease, raising an eyebrow.

He smirks instantly. “Ah, so you were ogling me that day.”

Damn. You walked right into that one.

“A woman can’t appreciate the male form?” you say, all mock innocence.

John laughs, shaking his head as he takes another drink. The music shifts, a different song now, low and smooth, some classic jazz number that’s always sounded like warmth and memory and late nights.

You perk up instantly. “John, we have to dance.”

He blinks. “What?”

“C’mon!”

Before he can argue, you’re already pulling him to his feet drunkenly. He hesitates for half a second, then relents because, of course, he does. His hands find your waist, cautious at first, and you wrap your arms around his neck as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“I can’t remember the last time I slow danced,” you murmur against his chest.

“Same,” John says quietly. “In all honesty, it was… probably my wedding.”

 “Damn, me too,” You let out a low laugh. “Did you go all out?”

“We tried,” he nods. “We had lessons and everything. I remember practising in our tiny apartment, knocking over chairs and swearing a ton.”

She grins. “I bet you were shit.”

John, very much in ‘John’ fashion, gasps. “Correction, I was the shit.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, and I’m gonna show you. Get ready to be dipped.”

Your eyes widen as you look up at him, suspicion written all over your face. “No way. You’ll drop me.”

He smirks. “I won’t. Trust me. I’m strong and very capable.”

Before you can protest again, he spins you, just fast enough to make your stomach flip. And you squeal, laughing as you come back into his arms.

“See?” he says, proud as hell. “Didn’t hurt a hair on your pretty head.”

You’re still laughing, slightly breathless, heart thudding in your chest for reasons that have very little to do with the dancing.

“I hate to say it,” you murmur, “but that was quite smooth.”

“Careful. Keep talking like that, and I might think you like me.”

You look up at him and realise, you’ve never been this close to him, unless you count getting in his face at a soccer match, but this was different. It was a whole new type of tension. 

“Whatever…” you say, but it comes out with no bite. Not even close.

Maybe because you’re tipsy, but under the dim lighting of your living room, with the jazz still murmuring in the background and that stupid, crooked smile on his face.

You reach up, fingers brushing his cheek before you even fully realise what you're doing.

“I like your beard,” you blurt out, your thumb lightly grazing the line of it.

He blinks, surprised, not because of what you said, but because of how gently you said it.

“Yeah?” he says, voice a little quieter now.

He’s not able to get another word out before you’re kissing him, soft and tender. His hands cup your face as he kisses you like there’s a magnet pulling you to him. Your hands roaming over each other’s bodies, hands desperate to touch skin. He lifts you off the floor, your lips not breaking contact. You wrap your legs around his waist and his hands cup your ass as he walks you over to a wall. Pressing you against it and kissing your neck like he’s trying to consume you. “Oh, John…”

Breathing heavily and looking into each other’s eyes.“Upstairs, first door on the right.”

Your back hits the wall again, but gently this time, his lips brushing over yours before pulling back just enough to ask, “You sure?”

You nod, breathless. “Go.”

He carries you like it’s effortless, one hand steady beneath your thigh, the other gripping the bannister as he takes the stairs two at a time.

Reaching the top, he kicks the door open with his foot. The room is dim, the late evening light bleeding through the curtains, but neither of you cares. You pull his shirt over his head and toss it aside. His mouth is on yours again before it hits the ground.

You fall into the bed together, tangled and wild and urgent, but with something else beneath it all. Something tender. Like every kiss and touch is catching up on lost time you didn’t even know you missed.

“Mind if I leave marks?”

“You can,” You gasp out and he goes to work, biting and sucking your skin. In all honesty, your drunk brain needed a memento, a way to remind sober-you that this wasn’t some sex dream. 

You feel his strong hands wrap around your wrists, and he squeezes them. Not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel his presence. 

“I want you,” John breathes and it sounds so good hearing it. Like you had both finally done away with pretense and given in to what you wanted to do since you met which was rip your clothes off and fuck eachother senseless. 

He starts kissing his way down your body, taking  his sweet time in making you feel good. Reveling in the way you react to him.

When he reaches your panties, he doesn’t hesitate to tug them off his teeth and the sight of him doing that nearly kills you. 

He starts eating you out like a man possessed, his beard tickling your inner thighs. He needs your pussy on his face and he needs it now. As he licks and sucks, driving you insane, your legs start slowly closing, trying to shy away from how good it felt. He catches them, prying them back open. 

“Keep them open for me.”

You nod but he wants more than that.

“Tell me.”

“I’ll keep my legs open for you,” You say and you think you’d do the splits on his face if he wanted. 

“Good girl,” he smirks before going back to ruining you. It had been too long since you felt like this, but even then, you had never felt like this. You were feverish and sensitive, fighting to keep yourself sane. You never recall feeling like you were dying of happiness when anyone else had gone down on you. Must be the John Walker effect.

The more you struggle and shake, the more pressure he applies. His hand rests on your stomach to hold you in place as he sucks on your clit.

Feeling the pleasure growing, you instantly try to muffle your moans with your fist. He moves his mouth away from your aching core and reaches up with one of his hands, moving your fist away. You look at him with reverence and surprise.

“You don’t need to hide…” He says, his other hand still moving inside you, “I want to hear you.”

You don’t speak right away. You just look at him, this man who had once driven you absolutely insane, who now felt like the only person who could see through all the armour.

“I’m not used to being seen,” you finally whisper.

“I know,” John says, brushing your knuckles with his thumb. “But I see you.”

He moves back into position between your legs, and you let him have every moan you have. 

“John!” 

You finish, back arching, legs trembling and clenching down on his head with your thighs so hard you’re scared you might kill him. 

But he doesn't stop, instead going faster. “H-hey!” You moan out as you kick your legs around, which he clearly takes as a challenge.

Wrangling your legs and pinning them over your head, your body now in the shape of a backwards C.

“You’re lucky I’m not tying you up,” John comments and you shiver at how good that sounds. 

He gets up on his knees, continuing to lick at your trembling folds as he fingers you even faster, adding a third finger that had you moaning in desperation.

It's like he's set your whole body on fire, the feeling of your lost orgasm threatening to push you straight into another one.

“John, it’s so…” You croak, your eyes focusing and unfocusing. “Think I’m gonna cum again.”

At this point, your voice is hoarse, each touch he’s giving you making you scream and cry out like you’ve never done before. 

“Yeah? You wanna be a good girl and cum for me?”

You nod, your eyes gassy with tears, “Wanna be your…your good girl.”

You could feel something coming, as he goes back to sucking on your clit, his fingers massaging your G-spot. 

It only takes a few moments before you're letting your body relax and squirt all over his fingers, the pleasure washing over you in waves. You’re too undone to make a noise, breathing heavily and choking on air. There are a few seconds where you think you’ve died.

He unfolds you, and you lie back down on the bed, needing him instantly. 

“John,” You whine, reaching out for him, and he’s right there, pulling you into his arms and taking care of you.

“What about you?” You ask. He had just about taken you to heaven and believe me you wanted to return the favour.

“Next time.”

Your heart flutters with the thought of a ‘next time’.

“Okay,” You snuggle against him and fall asleep together in pure bliss.  

You wake up in the morning, expecting to feel John’s arms around you. But there's no one there. You sit up and look around, but find nothing. No note explaining where he was and his car's no longer in the driveway.

You came to the conclusion, he woke up, saw you and decided that it was a mistake. It was disappointing but you’re used to being disappointed.

So much for ‘I see you’. 

So much for ‘next time’.

ᯓ⚽︎ ᯓ⚽︎ ᯓ⚽︎

The next couple of days are a blur, it’s back to business as usual. Soccer practice, laundry, answering emails with a fake sense of urgency. To anyone else, it seemed like nothing had changed, but not to your daughter.

“I saw Tommy yesterday,” she says casually as she sets her backpack down.

“Oh? How is he?” you ask, trying to sound neutral.

“Great, but his dad didn’t look too happy…”

Your ears perk up at that. He was also miserable? Good. It was his fault anyway… wasn’t it?

“You don’t look happy either.”

You flinch at how blunt she is. You should’ve known, there was no hiding anything from her. She might only be a kid, but she could read you like a book.

“Lily…” you start, but she cuts you off with the maturity of someone far beyond her years.

“Just be adults and talk to him…”

“It's not that simple,” Your voice is shaky with uncertainty. You're not even sure you'd be able to speak if you were face-to-face with him again.

“Well you need to especially since I’m going over to Tommy’s today.”

“You what?” you say, nearly falling out of your chair.

“You said I could,” she adds quickly. “Last week, before… whatever this is.”

Damn it. She was right. You had completely blanked on that. It was before the whole thing with John went bust.

You were conflicted with how you felt about John, but you wouldn’t let your issues affect her. 

“Fine, go get your stuff. We leave in five.”

You drive over to his place, your heart dropping lower and lower as you get closer to his house. Your fingers grip your steering wheel like it’s your lifeline. 

“You’re not coming in to say hi?” Lily asks almost incredulously.

“I think it’s best I don’t. I’ll be here at 6 to pick you up. Have fun!”

Lily doesn’t say anything at first; she just looks at you, brows raised, lips pursed like she’s debating whether or not to push. Was that what it was like to be on the receiving end of one of your judging looks? You didn't like it one bit. 

But in the end, she sighs, unbuckles her seatbelt, and grabs her bag. “You two are so dramatic.”

He sees her first, ruffles her hair, then his gaze shifts past her, locking with yours through the windshield. It only lasts a second, but it’s enough. You look away first.

Then you drive off, trying not to think about him. 

Hours pass, John is very much on your mind the entire time, and before you know it, you’re back at his house to pick up Lily. Walking your way up the driveway, you feel your nerves creeping in. You hesitate a second before ringing the doorbell.

“Hey,” John greets you, opening the door—and he looks just as good as the last time you saw him, maybe even better.

“Hey yourself,” you reply awkwardly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

There's the sound of footsteps thundering down the stairs, and then Tommy appears, greeting you with a wide grin.

“It’s time to go already?” Lily calls from behind him, voice dripping with faux innocence. She was laying it on thick.

Before you can answer, Tommy jumps in. “Can you and Lily stay for dinner?”

“I don’t know…” You start, unsure how to say no politely.

“Dad, convince her. We’re having your famous spagbol,” Tommy adds, eyes hopeful.

You catch the look on his face—so earnest, so excited—and then turn to John. An easy smile creeps onto your face despite yourself. 

“Famous, huh?”

John smirks. “It’s pretty good, if I do say so myself.”

ᯓ⚽︎ ᯓ⚽︎ ᯓ⚽︎

By the time dinner is ready, it feels easy with him, dangerously easy. You sit around the table with him and the kids, laughing between bites of spaghetti, the kind of domestic quiet that used to feel foreign now curling around you like a blanket. It felt so right. But still, there’s that persistent whisper in the back of your mind — If he wanted this, really wanted this, he would’ve stayed that night.

Before you can spiral too deep into your own thoughts, Tommy pipes up brightly, “Can Lily and I have a sleepover?”

You glance at John, caught off guard. “Lily and I should really get going, plus Lily doesn’t have anything to change into.”

“I brought clothes and my toothbrush,” Lily says far too quickly.

You narrow your eyes. “And why did you do that if you were just supposed to stay for the afternoon?”

Lily and Tommy exchange a look — a guilty, sheepish look that screams we planned this.

John chuckles under his breath, clearly catching on. “I wouldn’t mind,” he says, glancing at you. “I could set up a spot for Lily in Tommy’s room.”

“You should stay too!” Tommy adds enthusiastically, eyes shining with innocent matchmaking energy.

“I don’t have any pyjamas to sleep in, Tom,” you say, raising an eyebrow.

“You can borrow my dad’s!” he says like it’s the simplest solution in the world.

You blink. These kids were really committing to the bit.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude…” You begin, your voice a little quieter, your gaze flicking to John.

“You wouldn’t be,” he says, meeting your eyes. “I have a guest room. It’s yours if you want it.”

His voice is calm, but there’s something soft in it. An invitation. Like he wanted you to stay. 

“It’s decided then,” Your daughter interjects before you can try to squirm out of it.

You had been tricked by two 9-year-olds; this was a new low. 

The hours drifted by as you sat in the living room, all watching a movie together.

Your eyes were fixed on the screen, but all you could think about was John. The fact that sitting just a few feet away, but still felt so far away. 

Though if you had turned your head to look at him, you would’ve seen him looking back at you. His gaze would tell you everything you wanted to hear, but alas, that isn’t fate’s plan. 

The movie ends, and the kids groan when John tells them it’s time for bed. It’s a whirlwind, as they rush around tuckering themselves out. Entering Tommy’s room, you go over to Lily, who’s already in bed, ready for you to tuck her in. You pull the blanket up to Lily’s chin, smoothing her hair like you do most nights, your voice soft in the dim glow of the bedside lamp.

“Remember, be an adult,” Lily says, reminding you not to be a coward, essentially. 

“Goodnight, Lil,” You reply before kissing her forehead. Maybe, just maybe, you’d consider her words. 

“Goodnight, Mom,” she murmurs, already half-dreaming.

You stand slowly, and as you turn to leave, you notice Tommy looking at you. His eyes are peeking out from under his blanket, lids heavy but alert.

You pause. “Do you want me to tuck you in, too?”

He hesitates, then gives the smallest nod, like he’s not quite sure he should, but wants to anyway.

You gently and carefully tuck him into his covers like you had with Lily. “There,” you whisper. “Comfy?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, rubbing one eye. “Thanks, Mom.”

You’re shocked hearing him call you ‘Mom’. You glance down at him, already drifting off, lashes fluttering against his cheeks, completely unaware of the weight his words carried.

You swallow and manage a quiet, “Goodnight,” brushing his hair back gently before slipping out of the room. What you don’t know is that on the other side of the hallway, just out of sight, John is standing perfectly still.

He’d heard it too.

He didn’t know how to respond to it either, wasn’t sure what it meant or what came next, but for now, he was just… happy. Happy that his son felt safe with you. 

Later that night, you lie flat on your back, staring at the ceiling of the guest room, your thoughts louder than the quiet hum of the house. The shadows shift with the streetlight outside, but your mind stays frozen. You were wearing his shirt, and he was on your mind. It smelled like him, and you could imagine his arms around you. You bury your face in it, wishing that he was with you and not in a room down the hallway. 

You needed to confront what happened that night. You hadn’t talked about it since. It lingered like static between you, unspoken but never forgotten. And you couldn’t keep pretending it didn’t matter, not when it meant everything. 

You needed to know if he wanted you when you’re both sober.

So, gathering every ounce of courage, you throw off the blanket, slide quietly out of bed, and make your way down the hall to his room. The floor feels colder than you expected. Or maybe that’s just your nerves.

You stop in front of his door.

Raise your fist.

And then… freeze.

You stand there for what feels like forever, five minutes, at least, your knuckles hovering midair. Your heart pounds loud enough to fill the silence, your thoughts racing. What if he didn’t feel the same? What if that night was just a mistake?

Suddenly, the door swings open, and it startles the living hell out of you — your fist, already midair, connects squarely with his face.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper-shout, eyes wide as John stumbles back, one hand instantly flying to his nose.

“Shit,” he groans, squinting in pain and trying to blink away the surprise. “You can throw quite a punch.”

“Oh my god, John. Holy fuck. I am so, so sorry,” you ramble, panic surging through you as you hover uselessly in front of him. “Let me get ice, I’ll fix it… just, don’t die.”

You spin around and scuttle off toward the kitchen, trying to keep your footsteps light even though your heart’s thudding like a drum solo. The freezer is a disaster. No ice trays. Who doesn’t have ice trays?

You spot something. Grab it.

Moments later, you return with a sheepish expression and a frozen bag clutched in your hand.

“I couldn’t find an ice tray,” you mutter, pressing the bag gently to his face, “so I got peas.”

You sit down with him on the bed, holding the bag of peas to his nose. “That won’t bruise or anything, right?”

“No, I’ll be okay. Worried about my handsome face, are you?” John jokes, and you’re just glad he has a sense of humour about it. 

You groan and drop your forehead onto his shoulder, mortified. “This was not how I pictured this going.”

His hand gently touches the small of your back. “You were coming to talk to me, right? About… us?”

You nod against him. “Yeah. Before I assaulted you.”

“Let’s start there,” he says, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes with a crooked smile. “Because I was kinda hoping we’d finally talk about it too.”

“Really? It didn’t feel like that since you ran,” you say, voice low. You were trying not to sound hurt, but you were. He weighs like the weight of the world is on his shoulders and moves his bag of peas off his face to look at you.

“You’re right to be mad. I just… I panicked when I woke up next to you.”

“You were regretful,” you say, attempting to finish his sentence. His eyes widen, and his mouth parts like he’s about to protest.

“No, no—that’s not it at all. I was scared. That if you saw me when you woke up, you’d think it was a mistake.”

He takes a breath, shuffling closer. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met. You’re such a pain in the ass, always calling me out and keeping me on my toes. But also kind, and funny, and you make me feel so… alive.”

His hand lifts gently, your cheek resting against his palm. It feels perfect, like this is what fate had in store all along.

“I'm an idiot for running but I do like you. I’m falling for you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smile, heart racing. “I’m falling for you, too, John Walker.”

Pulling him in, your hands still cold and wet from holding the bag of peas, but he doesn’t care. You kiss him like it’s the only thing keeping you upright—like if you stop, everything might collapse around you. 

The two of you pull your clothes off each other's bodies but there's no rush. Each layer that comes off brings you that much closer together.

Now completely naked you sit in front of him and you can see why he has all that confidence. His fingers tangle in your hair and he's about to kiss you when you stop him.

“Will they hear?”

“There's a couple rooms between us, they won't hear as long as you're not too loud.”

“We both know that's going to be a challenge,”You say, recalling the way you were hollering when he ate you out. Your surprised that none of your neighbours issued a noise complaint.

“You need to try or I'll have to find something to gag you with,” John suggests, his voice low and sultry.

“Don't threaten me with a good time.”

He pressures you back into the bed and bites your neck hard enough to leave a big mark.

“You better hope no one asks about that.”

“Let them ask, you can explain to them exactly what I did to you.”

The marks don't stop there. By the time he's done you look like you've been attacked by a wild animal. Hickeys and love bites littered all over your skin, each one a testament of John's desire for you.

“Need you inside me,” You pant out already guiding him towards you with your legs. 

He looks down at you with hooded eyes the anticipation eating you alive before he wraps his arms around you and crarryignyou off the bed.

“Where are we—?” You start but don't finish as you notice he's plopped you down right in front of a mirror.

It's the perfect solution for when someone wants to fuck you from behind and see you fall apart of their cock. Thank everything for whoever invented mirrors.

He lightly kicks your feet apart, hands gliding up your body before resting on your boobs.

You getting back against him, trying to feel him and needing him to fuck the daylights out of you. It had been long enough and you were tired of waiting. 

“Impatient, aren't you?”

“I just need you. Don't make me suffer,” You pout, the mirror capturing the needy look in your eyes. 

“Well, who am I to say no to you?” He says before lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in.

Anticipating the screen you were about to let out, he covers your mouth with his hand.  Only the sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoing in the room. 

“Look at yourself, look at how quickly you feel apart for me,” John whispers against your ear. And he was right. You were a complete mess after only a few thrusts, eyes watery as your neck arches into him.

“So good,” You manage to get out without screaming. He grabs you by the hair, exposing your neck too him as he gives you a few more hickeys for good measure. Rocking your hips into you as he paints your neck with his lips.

Suddenly, your hips are being lifted into the air as he wraps his arms around you as if getting ready to suplex you. The way he starts fucking you is just as disorientating as a suplex would be. He's hitting your sensitive spot dead on turning your legs to jelly as they dangle in the air.

He's manhandling like you're a doll and you love it, especially when you can see it all happening in the mirror. The way his veins on his arms were popping with effort as he milks his cock with your pussy like you're a fleshlight.

“That's it, breed me, John.”

Hearing you say that only made him double his efforts.

“Is that what you want? Want me to get you pregnant?” John says, his fingers gripping your hips, clearly excited at the prospect. You nod desperately like you need to have it or you'll die.

You gasp, whimper, cry and reaching out for anything to keep you quiet.

“N-need you to fill me up,” You stutter out, “Need your cum in me.”

Then you're given a brief break when he pulls you back from the mirror, tossing you back into the bed. But two seconds don't even pass before he's feeding his cock back into your needy hole.

“J-john!”

You squeal a little too loudly and never you know it his hand is on your chin guiding your own panties in your mouth. 

“Such a pretty sight,” John says as he cages you, fingers intertwining as he pins you against the bed.

 You know you won't be able to keep going much longer. Wrecked doesn't even begin to describe what you were and your orgasm was about to knock you into a whole new dimension.

Feeling his cock twitch, you lock your legs around his waist and he finishes deep inside of you which triggers your own orgasm. His hot cum fills you up, painting your fluttering walls as he effectively breeds you.

The both of you lay there catching your breath as your orgasms pulse through you. This was what life was about; having sex with hot single dads. 

You come back to your senses, just barely and have an evil idea.

Seeing the opportunity fate had presented you for payback, you flip your positions climbing on top of him and riding him into overstimulation. A strangled cry that was supposed to be your name falling from his lips. 

“Baby…” John whimpers as his body tenses up, abs contracting lines he's already about to cum again.

You could get used to having him at your mercy, bottom lip trembling as he tries to keep it together. 

“I like seeing you like this. So desperate for me and only me.” You pulling him to your lips by his hair. He groans but he's into it, he'd let you have your way with him just as much as you let him have his way with you.

“Only you,” He replies and you believe it. 

Your hand away from his hair, letting John's head hit the mattress, before going in and leaving your own string of love bites. He bites his lip, all but writhing under your soft touch. 

“Someone might see those.”

“Then you can explain to them what I did,” You say throwing his words back in his face.

You keep fucking until you tire yourselves out, your bodies sticky and heaving. It was as good as you imagined it would be and you're kicking yourself for not giving in earlier.

John's hand rests on your thigh tracing little patterns as you play with his hair when he asks a very pertinent question.

“Are you on birth control?”

Your eyes widen when you realise you are in fact not on birth control. With the downright sad lack of sex you were having before John walked into your life there was no reason to be on it.

“No”, You gulp,“We'll talk about it in the morning?”

John hums in agreement and holds you against his chest in a vice grip that screams “You're mine.”

In the morning, you’re happy to feel John’s arms still wrapped around you, his face pressed against your shoulder, his breath slow and even. Peaceful.

“Who wants pancakes?” you call out, later in the kitchen, sliding a golden stack onto the table with a grin.

You have a slow, sweet morning breakfast—the kind where everyone’s still in pyjamas, laughing over spilt flour and slightly burnt edges.

“Oh! Let me go get the syrup. Can you show me where it is, Tommy?” you ask.

Tommy nods enthusiastically, hopping up and heading toward the pantry with you, eager to help you find it.

Back at the table, Lily narrows her eyes at John, clearly sizing him up. Then, dead serious, she delivers:

“If you hurt my mom, you die. Understood?”

John blinks, caught off guard for a second, but then a slow smile tugs at his lips. He knew exactly where she got that intensity from.

“Understood.”

“Good,” Lily says, her expression finally softening. “You make great spagbol so I'd hate to have to kill you.”

ᯓ⚽︎ ᯓ⚽︎ ᯓ⚽︎

It’s been a few months since you and John started dating — the kind of comfortable, lived-in months where you had keys to each other's places, regularly took the kids out together, and fell asleep on the couch on each other. 

Unlocking the door, John and Tommy step inside, and they’re immediately hit with the scent of burnt toast, a low hum of music, and the unmistakable energy of mild chaos. They were here to pick you and Lily up to carpool to the Saturday morning game, but it looked like they’d walked into a warzone, and at least it smelled like pancakes.

“Morning!” Tommy calls out as he looks around, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. 

“Oh hi, guys,” you pant out from somewhere in the kitchen, out of breath and flustered. He doesn’t need to be able to see you to know you’re going through it.

Lily’s sitting at the dining room table, calmly sipping orange juice like she’s been through this before. Tommy runs over and sits beside Lily, swiping a pancake off her plate.

“Mom’s having a meltdown,” she says, totally unbothered. “It’s pretty intense. She yelled at the coffee machine.”

John raises an eyebrow and walks to the kitchen, and there you are, wearing one sock and a hoodie that you actually stole from John, batter on your cheek, surrounded by open containers and the remnants of pancake making.

“It’s so good to see you,” You cry as you practically jump into his arms. You let go of him so you can continue your spiral when he stops you. 

“Honey, you’re running around like a headless chicken. Let me help,” John offers.

You hesitate, then sigh and reach into the mess on the counter and pull out a hairbrush. “Can you finish braiding Lil’s hair for me? She’s lost her lucky cleats, and I need to find them before we leave.”

“On it.”

He kisses your forehead, warm and steady, before heading into the kitchen.

Lily watches him approach with guarded suspicion. “Please don’t mess this up.”

John grins. “Don’t worry, I’m a professional.”

He ruffles her hair on purpose, just to rile her up, and she bats his hand away with a huff and a laugh. 

Meanwhile, you’re darting around the house in full-on panic mom mode — lifting couch cushions, checking under the bed, even inside the fridge for some reason (you never know), until finally, you spot the missing shoes. Inside her toy chest, naturally, buried under a plastic tiara and two mismatched Barbie legs.

You walk back into the dining room to the sound of laughter, Tommy’s head thrown back as John tells some ridiculous story, funny voices and all. Lily’s giggling along too as he finishes tying off the braid with surprising skill.

You lean against the doorframe, heart swelling. It’s loud, it’s messy, but it’s yours. And in that moment, it hits you: this is what happy looks like.

“Found it,” you say, holding the shoes up triumphantly.

John looks up, grinning. “See? I told you everything would come together.”

You smile at him. This is perfect; he’s perfect.

“Are we ready to go?” you call out, grabbing your bag and keys.

They respond in a chorus of “Yeah!” and “Almost!” as shoes squeak across the floor.

Clambering into the car like a small tornado, Tommy buckles in and grins over at Lily. “Losing team’s parent buys ice cream,” he declares.

“Ohhh, bold move,” you say, raising your eyebrows in the rearview mirror.

“Looks like you’re buying ice cream,” John says smugly, sliding into the driver's seat, glancing at you like he already knows today’s outcome.

“In your dreams,” you shoot back, smirking as you start the engine.

This was the kind of happiness that sneaks up on you when you’re not paying attention—and all it took was yelling at a hot dad at a soccer game.

Masterlist

[theemporium]

[4.6k] as the season dwindles on and the new year approaches, luke comes to a handful of realisations. some of them were unsurprising. some of them were not. one of them leads to a very interesting interaction during his captain's new years party. (smut)

series masterlist

.

Whoever said it was better to be self aware was a fucking liar. 

It had been a few weeks since the Hughesbowl and Luke had come to a few realisations in that time. Some epiphanies that had been tormenting him over sleepless nights as the season dragged on into December and quickly approached the end of the year. 

One: No matter how many times he had said it before, Luke still couldn’t quite grasp just how different NHL hockey was to the hockey he had been playing his whole life. And it sounded stupid to say, considering he had grown up being around NHL players and had two brothers in the league before him too. But it was tiring and rewarding and, fuck, he didn’t think he had ever been so hungry in his damn life before he joined the NHL. 

Two: Adulting in college versus adulting in real life was weird, different and not as fun as he liked to think it was when he was growing up. He felt like he spent most of his free time fighting the washing machine, wondering if groceries had always been this expensive and bribing Jack to do things for him when it got too overwhelming or confusing. Which, also wasn’t great considering his brother was just as helpless as he was, and Quinn was too far away to bother. 

Three: Despite the concerns tucked away in the back of his mind when he signed his first contract with the Devils, none of the team had made him feel like he was just Jack’s younger brother. He knew Nico had said as much at the start of the season, but experiencing it and really feeling like a part of the team brought a fuzzy warmth in his chest that he wasn’t quite ready to confess to anyone—but it was a nice feeling that followed him through the season, even after the losses. 

Four: Figuring out you were kind of in love with your friend who also offered to take your virginity was not exactly the best crisis to be having in the middle of your rookie NHL season. But he was having said crisis regardless and there wasn’t much he could do about it. 

And five: the Devils took New Years very seriously. 

As in serious enough that Jack was looking at him like he was the crazy one at this current moment.

“Did you hear what I just said?” 

Luke blinked, his spoon hovering awkwardly over his bowl of cereal as he stared at his brother across the table. “Yeah no, I heard you. I am just trying to wrap my head around why you decided to tell me at—” His eyes glanced over at the clock on the wall before returning to Jack. “Seven in the morning that I am banned from leaving the state for New Years?”

“Because you’ll make Nico sad,” Jack said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Luke put his spoon down. “Nah, you’ve still lost me.” 

Jack let out a deep sigh. “You can’t upset him like that, Luke. He’s our captain.”

“And me leaving the state in the three days off we have between games around then will upset him?” Luke deadpanned. He wasn’t even planning on leaving. He doesn't even know where he would go. But his sleepy brain almost wanted to pretend he had plans just to spite Jack right now.

“Duh,” Jack huffed. “He throws a New Years thing every year. Jonas missed it once when he had some family in town and Nico was pouty as fuck after, even if he didn’t admit it. It’s, like, a team bonding thing for him. Hockey families and real families coming together.”

Luke blinked. “It’s way too early for me to understand half the words that just left your mouth.”

“Plus we have a game on his birthday,” Jack added with a shrug. “It will probably be a double celebration.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke grumbled as he shoved another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “I’ll be there. You know I’d be there. I don’t get why you’re asking.”

Jack didn’t say anything for a moment before he spoke again, trying (and failing) to sound casual. “He doesn’t mind if you bring some guests. The more the merrier.”

Luke bit back his yawn. “Who would I even bring?” 

Jack shot him a deadpan look. “You’re so dumb.”

“Whatever,” Luke murmured, almost tempted to lay his head down on the counter and fall asleep right there. “M’not gonna miss Nico’s New Years party, don’t gotta get defensive about your boyfriend.”

Jack let out a noise that sounded vaguely close to a squeak. “He is not my boyfriend—” 

Luke zoned out after that. 

…

It wasn’t until a few days later, when Luke was sprawled on the floor in some feeble attempt of stretching his muscles after a late morning gym session, that Jack’s words made sense. 

He stared up at the gym room ceiling, listening to the various noises around the room: machines humming, metal clinking, guys talking. It was oddly soothing, almost mindful. These were noises Luke was familiar with, that he sought out to cling onto when the noises in his head were a little more irritating. It reminded him that he was actually there in the moment.

“Are you stuck down there?” 

Luke blinked as a shadow suddenly casted over him, taking a few seconds before he saw Nico staring down at him with an inquisitive look, though he seemed more amused than concerned. 

“Cardio days suck,” was all he was able to supply, his hands resting on his stomach as he made no move to sit back up or head towards the locker room to shower and change.

Nico just snorted, shaking his head in a way that almost seemed fond. “Welcome to the big league.” 

“Every league has cardio,” Luke replied, a little snottily if he was honest with himself. “And it sucks no matter what age you are.” 

Nico’s grin just widened in response.

For a moment, Luke was happy to just lay there for a few more minutes and let Nico wander off to go check on some of the other guys dotted around the gym. He knew his captain, knew he was doing his rounds and knew that he would have done them anyways, regardless of the ‘C’ on his chest because that was just the type of person Nico was. Luke was happy to let him shift that attention onto someone else.

But then Nico turned to head towards Haula and Bastian on the treadmills and a thought suddenly entered his head and Luke was opening his mouth before he even realised it.

“Hey, are you still doing your New Years thing?” 

Nico paused, his face brightening up. “Yeah, I am.” He paused, his smile faltering a little. “Why, can you not make it? I swear Jack said you could—”

“No, yeah, I am,” Luke answered quickly, scrambling to sit up a little so he would feel less exposed. He ran his fingers through his curls, wincing a little when his pinky nabbed a tangle before making his eyes meet Nico’s curious gaze. “I was just wondering if it would be okay if I brought someone.” 

Nico’s shoulders dropped in relief but his head tilted in interest. “Brought someone?” 

“A friend,” Luke supplied. 

“A friend,” Nico repeated, looking as though he was biting back his grin. “Yeah no, bring her with you. The more the merrier.”

Luke raised his brows. “How did you know it was a her?” 

Nico smiled knowingly. “Call it a captain’s hunch.”

Luke frowned. “That’s not a thing.”

Nico just shrugged in response. 

He tried not to let the question linger too much, instead finally forcing himself to finish his stretches before heading towards the locker room. The noise of his teammates blurred in the background as he reached for his phone, typing out a message before heading towards the showers.

hockey boy: u got any plans for nye?

…

“You suck.”

“I literally don’t know how else you expected me to answer the question.”

“I asked you what the dress code was and you said ‘nice’,” you scoffed, shooting the boy a look as you settled into the passenger seat of his car. “Nice isn’t a dress code. Nice doesn’t tell me if I should be wearing jeans or a dress.”

Luke tried—and failed-–to bite back his grin as he glanced over at you. “I see you went with the dress.” 

“No thanks to you,” you retorted with a small huff, but your lips were already twitching upwards. “I would rather your teammates think I am weirdly overdressed than weirdly underdressed.” 

“They won’t think you are weird,” he assured you, deciding not to point out the fact you had been around them on previous occasions and had never ran into that issue before. He didn’t think you would want him playing know-it-all. “But maybe stay away from Curtis.” 

He could hear the glee in your voice, even if he didn’t turn his head around. “Scared he will give me some ammo against you?” 

“Yes.” 

You laughed, shaking your head. “My new favourite Devil.” 

Luke rolled his eyes, also deciding not to mention the small burn of jealousy that bubbled in his stomach at your obvious joke. 

“Don’t worry,” you said after a few moments of silence, playfully knocking your hand against his thigh. “I wouldn’t embarrass you in front of your people.”

Luke snorted. “My people?”

“Yeah, you athletes are all super weird about your teammates. You guys kinda seem more like a cult than a family but it’s cute,” you teased. “Does this mean I get to join the cult for the night? Special access?” 

“We aren’t a cult,” Luke scoffed, choosing to also not mention the handful of weird superstitions half of his teammates complete before every game. 

“But they are important to you,” you retorted.

Luke nodded, smiling a little softer. “Yeah. They are.” 

“Then I’ll keep the fact you thought the Titanic was a documentary a secret,” you concluded, snickering when the boy let out an exaggerated groan.

“It’s based on a real ship, okay!” 

“Yeah but Leonardo DiCaprio wasn’t on the ship back in 1912 when it went down.” 

“Whatever, there was room on that door and everyone knows it,” Luke grumbled, sniffling slightly before he turned to glance at you once again as the car came to a stop at a red light. “You’re important to me too, you know.” 

You turned your head to look at him, wiggling your eyebrows. “Working towards a midnight blowjob instead of a midnight kiss?” 

“I—no,” his cheeks burned hot and he was suddenly glad the car was too dark for you to see the full extent of how red his face must have been as memories of you on your knees—of his number on your cheeks—flashed to the front of his mind. “I mean it. You’re important to me.” 

You blinked, your smile faltering a little when you realised he was serious. “Oh.”

“Like,” Luke quickly cleared his throat. “We’re friends, right? My friends are important to me.” 

“Yeah no, of course,” you laughed, and maybe it was still a little awkward and stilted but he was glad you weren’t jumping out of the car and running off. “I didn’t realise I reached cult level though.”

Luke smiled. “Maybe just for tonight.”

“Knew it!” 

He turned his eyes back to the road for the rest of the journey to Nico’s place.

…

Luke knew he shouldn’t have been eavesdropping. He knew that. He didn’t even mean to. It just kind of happened somewhere between him disappearing into Nico’s kitchen to look amongst the weird European beers and ciders until he could find two flutes of champagne for you both and walking back with said flutes in hand to overhear you talking to Jack. 

Jack, who he remembered being on the other side of the room almost on Nico’s lap, before he left to grab your drinks.

“You watch our games?” 

Luke paused, a voice in his head telling him to take that step forward, to walk back into the room, to intervene before Jack inevitably embarrassed him. The other—and louder—voice kept him put, holding onto the champagne flutes tightly as he listened. 

“Yeah, the ones I can.” 

“Really?” 

“You sound surprised.” 

“Guess I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“I mean, I don’t understand a single thing that is happening.”

“Luke hasn’t explained the game to you?”

“Oh no, he has. I still don’t get it. But hey, the commentators tell me you guys are pretty good.” 

Luke listened to the way Jack laughed, noted how it sounded more like his actual laugh rather than the stilted media one.

“I’m surprised Luke had the balls to invite you.” 

Luke’s eyes widened, his cheeks growing hot again as he silently vowed to trip Jack up during their next practice for that line.

“Am I that scary?” 

Jack didn’t respond for a moment. “I don’t think it’s you he’s scared of.”

“What? He thought you guys would scare me away?” 

“We can be overwhelming.”

“You guys fight other grown men on ice for a living, I think I can survive.”

Jack laughed again. “Mom would love you, you really know how to keep a guy humble.”

“You mean keep his ego in check.”

“Professional athletes with egos? Unheard of.”

This time it was you who snorted out a laugh.

“You’re not what I expected, Cherry.”

“Is that a good or bad thing?” 

But before Jack could say anything, before he could possibly embarrass Luke any further and continue whatever weird interrogation he had going on with you, Luke quickly rounded the corner and practically shoved a champagne flute into your hand whilst shooting his brother a look.

“Shouldn’t you be bothering Nico or something?” 

Jack shot his brother a knowing look, glancing between the two of you before he took a step back. “Yeah, I guess I have a few things to tell him.”

Luke narrowed his eyes. 

“It was nice to meet you, Cherry,” Jack said earnestly, tipping his beer bottle towards you. “Maybe I’ll catch you at the house. It would be nice to see Luke around instead of running off to yours.”

You snorted. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Luke watched the new but playful camaraderie between you and his brother. The banter and the shared laughs at his expense. He watched it as he chugged a mouthful of champagne, hoping the bubbles would drown the other fluttering feelings he was feeling in his stomach. 

…

“I’ve been looking for you.”

You snapped your head around, your smile widening a little when you found Luke standing by the door of the guest room. His sleeves were now rolled up, a few more buttons of his shirt unbuttoned and his curls looked as though they had been ruffled by a drunk and very handsy Haula more than once.

“The main bathroom was occupied so Nico said I could come in and use the guest room bathroom,” you explained, nodding your head towards the other door. 

“And you decided to hide in here afterwards?” Luke asked, mostly playful and teasing but there was a hint of concern in his voice. The team could be a lot sometimes and, despite the fact you seemed more than capable of holding your own, the last thing he wanted was for you to feel uncomfortable and as though you couldn’t leave.

“I got intrigued,” you shrugged as you gestured towards the bookshelf that seemed to take over a large portion of the guest room wall. “How many languages does this guy know?”

Luke snorted as he walked deeper into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed with a small huff. “I think three?” He shrugged, leaning back against his hands. 

“That must be so cool,” you murmured, your eyes flickering over the book spines before turning back to look at Luke. “Do you know any other languages?” 

Luke shook his head.

“None?” You laughed in disbelief. “Buddy, most of your teammates down there speak English as a second language and you haven’t picked up anything?” 

“Do three words in standard German count?” Luke retorted, playful and sheepish all at once. “Jack tried learning on Duolingo for, like, two weeks to try to impress Nico during summer before realising Swiss German and standard German are different.”

You shook your head, trying to bite back your smile as you wandered closer. “F for effort on your part. I’m pretty sure Jonas taught me more in one conversation than you’ve learnt all season.”

Luke rolled his eyes, his fingers twitching against the comforter with the urge to reach out for you. “It can be my New Years resolution.” 

“Yeah? You have a list?” You questioned, watching as he spread his legs without thinking and let you into the space like it was instinctual. 

He shrugged. “I try. Achievable stuff, you know?” 

You raised your brows. “Like?”

“Eat better, workout more, start a new hobby,” he listed off, trying and failing to keep a straight face as he finally gave in, as he finally reached for your waist to tug you even closer to him. “Learn a new skill. Or improve on ones I already know.”

You hummed, your hands resting on his shoulders as your fingers skimmed the fabric of his shirt. “Hockey skills?” 

Luke glanced up at you, swallowing a little. “Not all of them.”

Your lips twitched upwards. 

His thumb smoothed over your hips, feeling the small details of your dress under his touch. “What’s on your list?” 

“I don’t have one,” you admitted with a shrug. “No point to it. If I want to do something, I’ll do it.” 

“Sounds like one of the media trained answers we are forced to give,” Luke teased, pressing his thumb a little harsher to gain your attention when your head tipped back with a laugh. “No, but really. There’s nothing new you wanna try?” 

“Are you offering?” You retorted, lighthearted and teasing. 

“Yeah,” he rasped. “Maybe I am.” 

Your head tilted slightly, your hand moving to lightly grasp the back of his neck. “We probably shouldn’t. I hate to break it to you, Hughes, but you’re not very quiet once you get going.” 

His cheeks burned but he didn’t tear his eyes away from you. “Who said I was the one getting off?” 

And that seemed to catch you by surprise.

“Pretty boy is feeling confident, huh?” You mused, your fingers brushing against the curls at the nape of his neck. “As hot as it is, I don’t think we have time.” 

And your words sent a spark through, soft and buzzing and persistent. A spark that he knew very well, a spark that made his grip on your waist tighten. A spark that he felt every single time he stepped onto the ice.

“Is that a challenge?” Luke asked, his voice a little lower than he intended. 

You smirked, shaking your head. “Depends what you have in mind.” 

His heart was pounding in his chest, loud and strong and overwhelming, but it didn’t stop him as he leaned his chin against your stomach. “I want to make you come.” 

Your eyes wandered over his face, at the pure determination in his eyes. “Oh?” 

“Mhm,” he nodded, his hands trailing down the side of your thighs. “That’s on my list too.” 

Your lips twitched. “Thinking of becoming a ladies man? Live up to the hockey sex god stereotype?” 

He shook his head. “No. Not other girls. Just wanna make you come.”

You didn’t have a reply for that. 

“I wanna make you come right now. In here.” There was a flicker of something else in his eyes that you couldn’t quite read. 

Your brows lifted slightly.

“If you want to,” he added, his hands squeezing the back of your thighs. “Consent is sexy, you know.” 

“Show me what you’ve got, pretty boy,” you murmured, leaning down to close the distance between you as you pressed your lips against his. 

The rest of the world was a distant buzz in the back of his mind once you finally kissed him, his shoulders dropping with some unexplainable relief that only being around you seems to bring. Your fingers were already in his curls by the time his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, leaving the boy groaning and gasping into your mouth as you tugged him closer. 

You pulled back for a second, to catch your breath and appreciate the flush on his cheeks before leaning back in. But it was enough. It was enough to have his mind spiralling faster than he could even keep up with.

For a split second, you weren’t smiling down at him. For a split second, the two of you were back in his car and you were staring at him with an expression he didn’t understand, an expression that made his stomach turn nonetheless. For a split second, he was just staring helplessly at you as you doubted the words he said. 

And whilst Luke never claimed to be the sharpest tool in the shed, he knew it would be a monumentally stupid idea to repeat the words. He knew that if he repeated the words he said in the car, if he tried to insist on their truth, you would shut down again. 

And he didn’t want that.

Not at all.

But the overwhelming and insistent need to show you what you meant to him was bubbling inside him, swirling along with the bottled up feelings and glasses of champagne he had drank over the course of the night. 

And if he couldn’t tell you, he would show you. He would make you see that you were important to him, that this unlikely and unconventional friendship may have started with you helping him but he was in this for you too. 

That your pleasure was important to him too.

He swallowed your gasp with another kiss as he tugged you closer, as he finally broke whatever restraint the two of you had until you were finally on his lap. Or, almost on his lap. But when you tried to shift in his hold, when you tried to straddle his lap properly, Luke’s strong grip on your waist kept you locked in place.

“Stay,” he murmured, swallowing harshly as he leaned back enough to watch the confusion wash over your face. 

“I thought—” You started but he was already shaking his head.

“Like this. I want to get you off like this,” he confessed, his voice rasping as he tried to pretend like his whole body wasn’t thrumming with excitement and nerves and something else he wasn’t quite ready to name. “On my thigh.” 

You tucked your lip between your teeth. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. 

“Fuck, Luke,” you murmured under your breath before pulling his lips back onto yours through the hold you still had on his curls. 

He sunk into the kiss as easily as he breathed, moaning softly when he felt your tongue against his own. His hands clung onto you, squeezing your waist like he needed to make sure you were actually there, like this was real and not some sex-crazed dream he would wake up from, half-hard and alone in his room. 

But the silk of your dress remained under his touch, soft and smooth and bunching in his fists as he clenched the fabric in his hold. And then his hands started wandering as you continued to kiss him senseless. 

He pushed the skirt of your dress up until it pooled at your waist, until his hands were engulfing and squeezing your thighs. His fingers continued to skin upwards, until his fingertips were brushing against the waistband of your panties, until he could hear the small gasp you let out as he lightly traced them. 

It made his head spin the way you were straddling his thigh, the way he could feel the warmth of your cunt pressed against his leg, feel it through the fabric of the dress pants he wore for the party. It made his head spin how he wished he could pull them off, how he wished he could just feel you with no boundaries between. 

His hands were pawing at you before they started to guide you, rocking you back and forth on his thigh. It was slow and deliberate, almost unnoticeable until the first choked out noise you let out between the soft kisses he was giving you. 

“C’mon,” his voice was low, rough, full of desire. “Want you to take what you want.” 

One hand remained entangled in his curls but the other shifted down to grip his shoulder, to dig your nails into the fabric of his shirt as you continued to follow the pace he set. It shouldn’t have felt so good, but it did. It felt so fucking good with his sweet words smothering the slow pace he refused to relent.

“Shit, Luke, I—” You cut yourself off, biting down on your lower lip as he continued to guide your hips, as he continued to let you grind yourself against his flexing thigh. 

“Whatever you want,” he murmured out, feeling like he was in a daze as he watched your eyes flutter shut. You were breathtaking when you let the pleasure take over, when he got to see you with no walls up and unguarded. “Just tell me.” 

“More,” you managed to mutter out, your head falling back as you continued to ride his thigh, to feel the rush of what you were doing just down the hall from his teammates wash over you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Look so pretty like this,” he whispered because he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t hold the thought back even if he wanted to. “Wanna make you come more, Cherry baby, shit.”

Because he did. He wanted to do this a million more times if he could watch you like this for the rest of his life. He wanted to see you riding his thigh, unashamed and unabashed, so lost in your own pleasure—pleasure that you were receiving from him—that you had no other worries in the world.

He wanted to watch you lean your head forward against his shoulder, his name leaving your lips between soft moans and a list of curse words as your orgasm washed over you. He wanted to watch the way your body shook with the after effects, the way you clung onto him like a lineline. 

He wanted to watch the way you lifted your head, giving him a smile so soft that he felt like the rug was pulled out from underneath him. 

“I have been severely underrating hockey thighs all these years,” you muttered, your smile widening a little more when Luke let out a disbelieving laugh.

Luke couldn’t tear his eyes away from you if he tried. “What? No thank you?” 

“That’s your thing, pretty boy, not mine,” you teased before you relented, leaning forward to press a soft but lingering kiss on his cheek. It was somehow the most intimate act you shared in the last fifteen minutes. “Ten out of ten for your thighs.”

Luke swallowed harshly. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“Good, because that won’t be the last time we are using them,” you said to him, so sure of yourself and unaware of the muddle of thoughts in his head at that moment. 

“Happy New Years, Cherry,” he managed to mutter out, not even sure if the clock had passed twelve or not. But it was the last of his concerns when you smiled at him.

“Happy New Years, Luke,” you murmured softly. 

And yet, all he could think about was how he wanted to hear those words leave your mouth every year. 

.

[spencerreidenjoyer]

insatiable | spencer reid x reader

Spencer learns how amazing sex is with you, but gets caught up with work. You show your boyfriend how good it can feel even if you’re not together physically, and he shows you how much he misses you when he gets back.

part 1 - addicted to you | part 2

wc: 4.6k, rating: 18+/explicit

tags/warnings: established relationship, phone sex/video sex, mutual masturbation, public (bathroom) sex, brief mentions of typical BAU stuff (not in detail), meeting the family (literally reader meets the BAU), brief mentions of alcohol, making out, vaginal sex, getting caught (not in the act but afterward lmao)

a/n: this is what an insane person does when they're sick for two days and have nothing better to do over the summer. this is a second part to addicted to you (you don't have to read the first part but it does provide some context for some details within the fic), with inspiration taken from a lovely comment I got on ao3 that made me feel kinda crazy. i included some textfic elements in this fic as well which i hope reads well (bold text is spencer)! also I know early seasons spencer technically sets this around 2005-2007 but they have smartphones and video calling (aka present day) so please suspend your disbelief for the length of this fic lmao (p.s this fic is also on ao3!)

Your boyfriend gets whisked away for work sooner than you expect. Spencer’s supposed to have time off the rest of this week, but you suppose killers aren’t exactly respectful of an FBI agent’s time off of work. It’s downright cruel when he’s called in to work on a Friday evening, when you have dinner and wine set at the table, having gotten ready to spend a quiet, romantic evening in with Spencer. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says, rushing to change out of his sweatshirt and joggers into his typical work attire. You stand in the doorway of his room, mildly amused while Spencer panics to put an outfit together. “I know you had a whole evening in planned, but–”

“Don’t be, baby,” you assure him. “You have a killer to catch. Oh, that one– the blue cardigan looks good with those pants. It matches your socks.”

Spencer smiles as he looks up at you, reaching for the navy blue cardigan to his left. He tugs it on rather hurriedly, comes up to you and presses a kiss to your forehead. “You’re the best. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You shake your head. “Just find the bastard quick and come home to me.”

“I know. I will,” Spencer says.

After the both of you found out just how much Spencer liked fucking you, you were really hoping that your weekend together could be spent in his bed, but duty calls. Technically, JJ had called him in, but you’re not concerned about specifics right now.  

You spend the evening alone in Spencer’s apartment, half of the wine finished and his TV playing reruns of some show you haven’t been paying attention to. Your eyelids feel heavy, and Spencer’s bed is so comfortable you can’t bring yourself to leave it. That is, until your phone buzzes on Spencer’s nightstand, and you’re suddenly very alert.

I miss you, darling. > hey, i’m surprised you have the down time to text. i miss you too I’m really sorry I had to leave so suddenly. We’re on the jet right now.  > i told you it’s okay! i’m surprised the jet has wifi lol Taxpayer money, I guess? We land in LA in a couple of hours and we’re heading straight to the PD to work on the case. > my poor boyfriend is working so hard instead of cuddling me in bed :( How you tempt me, lovely. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Are you going to sleep soon? It’s late. > yeah i’m staying at yours for the night and maybe until you get back? really miss you already Okay, that’s good. I know. I’ll call when I’m in the hotel and settled for the day? :-( > yes please. also stop sending emojis with noses they aren’t supposed to look like that!!! They aren’t anatomically correct without them. The way you send them > babe they’re emojis it’s ok if they’re not anatomically correct Hahaha I love you. > lol i love you too! Goodnight, love. > goodnight spence <3 <3

You can imagine, especially from the way Spencer recounts it, how his coworker Derek must be teasing him about smiling at his phone, about how pretty boy’s lucky lady must be one hell of a woman to get Spencer so smitten. 

You would say you’re rather independent, especially in relationships, but Spencer has you acting like a clingy girlfriend. You can’t help but feel an ache in your chest as you long for him while he’s away, feeling like a military wife whose husband is out instead of being normal. To be fair, being with Spencer has never been “normal” – he always has something interesting up his sleeve, or some quirk that makes you even more enamoured with him. 

Your Saturday is relatively uneventful, milling about Spencer’s apartment. You laze around in bed for way too long, enough where Spencer would’ve definitely hauled you out of bed himself an hour ago if he were here. You make yourself breakfast, unsurprised that Spencer only has cereal in his pantry and almond milk in his fridge. You sit down with one of his very sophisticated literature books but you don’t get very far with it, and opt to clean Spencer’s apartment instead. 

It’s when you’re sweeping the floor that you realise just how much you like Spencer, feeling so strongly attached to him already. You’ve said your ‘I love you’s, given him his firsts. You were staying in his apartment even while he was away– hell, you’re even cleaning his apartment for him. 

Just for a moment, you let yourself fantasise about this being your apartment – yours and Spencer’s; about waking up to him every morning, about making breakfast for the both of you that isn’t cereal and almond milk, about coming home to each other instead of an empty apartment. 

You sigh and get back to cleaning.

You’re settled into his bed, surrounded by the comforting scent of him when Spencer finally does call. You almost drop your phone in your excitement to pick up. 

“Hey! Hi, Spence,” you say, unable to help the smile that’s forming on your face. 

“Hello, love,” Spencer answers. He sounds a little tired. You can imagine the little furrow in his brow, obviously exhausted and dissatisfied from a full day’s work of catching some bastard in LA, and you wish you could be there to kiss his frown away. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Spencer. Long day?”

“Absolutely,” Spencer sighs tiredly. “This UnSub is so slippery. No convictions, no paper trail, nothing, and he’s killing every other–” Spencer starts to ramble but he catches himself. “Sorry. I won’t talk about work right now. It’s pretty grim.”

“It’s okay,” you hum. “Do you want to talk about work right now?”

Spencer makes a little noise. “No, no. I don’t want to bring that to you. Let’s talk about you. How are you, honey?”

Honey. The name makes your insides feel all gooey, soft and warm and lovely. “I’m- I’m okay. I stayed at your place, cleaned up around here. I’m thankful it’s not as much of a man cave as I thought.”

Spencer laughs through the phone, a breathy chuckle. “Thank you for cleaning up for me, love. It’s just a lot of nerdy stuff, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s endearing. I tried to read one of your books earlier and could barely get past the first ten pages.” You tell him, garnering another chuckle from Spencer. “I like your place a lot.”

“I miss you,” Spencer says again. “Waking up to you and having you around is so much nicer than this dingy hotel room I’m in.”

“Aw. Taxpayer money couldn’t upgrade you to a better room?” 

Spencer snorts. “No, but I lucked out on getting the room all to myself.”

There’s a pause as you figure out what to say, and Spencer is quick to follow up, “I didn’t mean–”

“Does this have something to do with you missing me, baby?” You can’t help but grin. Spencer makes a distressed little noise over the line.

“Well, I– Maybe, but we don’t have to–” Spencer stammers, unable to find the words. He’s absolutely adorable. 

“I want to, Spence,” you coo. “I miss you so much.”

You hear Spencer exhale shakily. “What– What do I do?”

“A genius like you hasn’t forgotten how to touch himself, has he?” you tease, Spencer whining on the other end at your words. “Does that eidetic memory of yours come with an overactive imagination too?”

“Surprisingly, no. Hyperphantasia is more of being able to visualise different types of situations in one’s mind, and that’s what usually is associated with an overactive imagination. Having an eidetic memory is more about high-precision recall after seeing something even just once. I think having an eidetic memory pretty much ensures you don’t have aphantasia, or the inability to see and create mental images, but yeah.”

Ah, even his nerdy ramblings turn you on. 

“So does that mean you can recall the way I looked in bed a few nights ago?” you prod, and you wish you could see how red Spencer must be by now.

“Well, yes. Of course I can. How could I ever forget how beautiful you looked then?” Spencer’s words are sweet, earnest, and you melt. 

“Then picture that,” you barely get the words out because you’re so smitten. “Imagine I’m right there with you, Spencer.”

You hear the rustling of the sheets, and Spencer’s little telltale whine as he wraps his hand around himself. “O-Oh–”

“I miss you, Spence,” you drawl. “Miss the way your cock fits inside me. You miss my tight cunt, baby?”

“Your mouth is filthy,” Spencer laughs breathily. “But yeah, I do. You always feel so good around me.”

“You’re touching yourself, yeah?” you ask. You get a little whine from him as an affirmative, but your imagination is running wild – you want to see him. “Can you show me?”

“Yeah, I just– Do you wanna switch it over to a video call? I can’t–”

You laugh at your boyfriend’s lack of technical prowess, tapping at your phone screen until the top half of his face comes up. “Hey, I’m just trying to find a good angle–”

“Don’t just flip the camera and show me your dick, please. That would be so unsexy.” You say.

Spencer furrows his brows. “I was not planning on doing that, for the record.” 

You watch the phone move until Spencer comes into frame, the phone likely propped up at the foot of the bed and exposing all of Spencer to you. You might be drooling right now.

“This is… a lot,” Spencer laughs nervously. “I feel so naked.”

“You’re mostly clothed,” you quip. 

“Ha ha,” Spencer laughs dryly. “I’ve just… I’ve never done this before.”

“Phone sex? Or calling your girlfriend so you can jerk off for her?” 

Spencer gives you a deadpan look. “Both, honey.”

You grin. “I’m glad to be your first. Now, show me how you make yourself feel good, baby.”

Spencer’s cheeks are a gorgeous rosy red when he takes his cock into his hand again, his tip leaking as he strokes himself slowly. With his eyes fluttering shut, Spencer’s lips part as he indulges himself in his pleasure. Like this, you indulge yourself in admiring all of Spencer – the flush on his cheeks that runs down to his neck, his breathy panting as he touches himself to the thought of you.

“Spence,” you sigh. “You’re so pretty.”

His eyes shutter open as he looks at you, somehow even redder than he already was. “You’re the pretty one, darling. Are you– Will you touch yourself for me?”

You hold back your moan as you nod. You were already in your underwear when you had slid into Spencer’s bed, but now all it takes is you sliding your fingers past the waistband to feel how wet you already are between your legs. “Oh, Spence.”

“Do you feel good, love?” he hums, voice only a little bit strained from his immense pleasure. 

The embarrassingly loud squelch that results when you sink your fingers into yourself is enough of an answer. Spencer grins, and you’re red in the face as you rock your hips down onto your own fingers. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything, honey,” Spencer laughs. “But I wish I could feel you right now.”

“I know, I miss the way you feel inside me,” you pant. “Please, Spencer–”

“Take off your underwear,” Spencer’s voice is breathy as he pleads with you. “I want to see you.”

You prop your phone up so your angle matches Spencer’s, both of you on full display for each other. You watch the way Spencer’s eyes widen when you slide your panties off, the way his eyes are trained on your figure through the screen. He says, “You’re so wet…”

“All for you, baby,” you sigh, leaning back as you slide two fingers back into yourself. You scissor them rather hastily, craving the hurried way Spencer fucks you. “It’s not the same without you here.”

“I know,” Spencer hums. “You look so good like that. I wish I could make you feel good right now.”

You moan, pushing your fingers into yourself deeper, barely hitting where Spencer reaches easily. The squelch from between your legs is obscene. “You do, baby. You’re making me feel so good, just thinking about you.” 

In practically a whisper, Spencer admits, “I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

You let out a weak cry, impossibly turned on by your boyfriend’s filthy admission because you didn’t even think he had it in him to say it so bluntly. You slide your fingers in and out hurriedly, your palm giving you the friction on your clit that you crave so desperately. “Spencer–”

Spencer lets out a strangled cry, muffled behind his hand, when he comes. It’s sudden, Spencer’s load painting the soft skin of his stomach, his cock twitching. You moan as you follow suit, wetness drenching your hand as you ride out your own orgasm, imagining his cock inside of you. 

“Oh, fuck.” Spencer gasps, head thrown back as you watch his chest rise and fall as he breathes heavily. His forehead and neck are covered in a light sheen of sweat, and his cock out against the rest of his rather soft, innocent looking outfit is making you giggle just a little.

“You look really hot right now,” you say instead, wishing you could be laying next to him while he recovers.

“I think I should be saying that about you,” Spencer laughs. “You’re gorgeous. You’re so stunning.”

“How long are you going to be away?” You pout. “I like it when I can actually kiss you after you compliment me.”

Spencer smiles sympathetically. “I’ll be back soon, my love.”

“I’ll take phone sex with my boyfriend as a consolation, then.” You wink, making Spencer laugh. 

“Remind me not to get too loud, though. I think Emily is in the room next to me and I really hope these walls are thick enough.” He says, sounding vaguely concerned.

You laugh, and stay on the line a little longer just to relish in a peaceful moment with Spencer.

The next day, when you’re out getting groceries to stock up Spencer’s fridge, you get a text from Spencer.

I don’t know how much Emily heard last night, but she’s been looking at me funny all morning. > lol oops? If we call again tonight, we might have to keep it down.  > if? not when? :) I love you so much. > i know and i love you too :) and you should probably apologise to emily about last night Well, if we’re calling again tonight then maybe I should just give her one big apology when all of this is over. > good idea. now go catch your killer so we can go back to having sex irl Okay!

Unfortunately, Spencer gets too busy to call you again that night, the team working overtime to catch their UnSub, whose kills were escalating exponentially. You don’t find yourself bothered by it, by Spencer disappearing for the night with nothing more than a message sent your way, instead relishing in the fact that it’ll feel even more rewarding when he comes home. 

You’ve never felt this way before, craving Spencer so desperately while he’s away at work. While you’ve only been together a couple of months, you respect that Spencer’s work takes up a lot of his time. It doesn’t mean you don’t miss him, though, as much as you enjoy your alone time.

All of the team’s hard work pays off, though, because they’re storming into the UnSub’s lair by Monday afternoon, and Spencer texts you when you’re just clocking out of the office.

Great news! We caught the guy. We’re packing up at the PD and coming home soon. > omg!!! that’s so great The team wants to go out for celebratory drinks.  > you should totally go ahead and celebrate with them spence! you guys worked your asses off on this case We did. But I’m telling you because I want you to join us. I want you to meet the team too.  > oh? i would love to but are you sure they want me there? Of course, sweet girl. Derek wants to know who has me smiling at my phone half the time, and Emily is asking who I’m calling in the middle of the night. > omg so she did hear you … I think so, love. > … i will apologise to her tonight then I’ll send you the address. Love you > love you too spence <3

There’s just enough time for you to get home and change into a nice outfit – a tight, red dress that hits your mid-thigh, your hair curled and your makeup touched-up before you head to the bar Spencer’s sent you the address to. While you know Spencer’s team is lovely, you do want to make a good first impression.

You see Spencer’s gangly form at the bar when you get there, the rest of his team facing away from you as they get their drinks. You see Spencer’s face brighten as he spots you, raising his hand and waving to you excitedly. The rest of his team notices, and turns to look at you too. You would be shy at all the attention, but Spencer’s unabashed adoration of you, especially in front of all his friends, is giving you more than enough confidence to walk up to the group.

“Hello,” you smile, and the warmth you feel from the team makes you feel welcome already. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

You shake hands with Hotch and Rossi as you introduce yourself. While you had heard of Hotch as a rather cold, serious Unit Chief, the way he warmly smiles at you makes you feel at ease. “So, you’re Spencer’s girlfriend. It’s great to finally meet you.”

“It’s great to meet you too, sir,” you answer rather instinctively, making both Rossi and Hotch laugh heartily. 

“Aaron might be Reid’s boss, but he certainly isn’t yours,” Rossi chuckles. 

Before you can feel embarrassed by it, you get pulled into a tight, warm hug by Penelope, and when she lets you go, JJ hands you a drink, and Derek and Emily are regarding you with knowing smirks. 

“Reid, you are one lucky man,” Derek says, after pulling you into a welcoming hug. “Don’t mess this up, lover boy.”

“I know,” Spencer says, his hand reaching for yours. You lace your fingers with Spencer’s, squeezing his hand comfortingly. “And I won’t mess this up.”

“Lover boy is right, considering what I overheard the other night,” Emily says, looking at you and Spencer pointedly. JJ also has a knowing smile on her face, and you feel your cheeks get hot.

“I’m really sorry about that, Emily,” you smile sheepishly. “I hope Spencer’s apologised for it too.”

“Again, I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Spencer says, purposefully avoiding eye contact with Emily. “I would say ‘We won’t do it again’, but…”

You shriek amidst the laughter of Spencer’s coworkers, Spencer laughing along as he holds onto your waist. You feel adored, so readily welcomed by Spencer’s friends, and you feel like you belong, by Spencer’s side.

After you chat with the rest of the team for a little more, they eventually disperse to do their own things, leaving you and Spencer alone. Spencer looks at you with such adoration in his eyes and you feel like you’re going to melt. “Hi,” he says warmly.

“Hi, Spence,” you say. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Spencer smiles. “But I’m here now.”

“You are,” you breathe, giddy with excitement, and lean in to kiss him. It’s a quick peck, but Spencer pulls you back in like you’re the air he needs to breathe. He kisses you deep, eager, pouring every drop of himself into you. His hands cup your face sweetly, kissing you until you feel breathless. 

“Oh my God, Spencer,” you giggle when he finally pulls back, eyes wild as he regards you. “You really missed me, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Spencer laughs. 

“Do we need to pretend to keep our hands off each other or do you just want to go and make out in the bathroom?” You say simply. You don’t expect Spencer to be down, considering how quickly he’d rattle off the statistics about the germs in a public bathroom, but Spencer smiles at you and pulls you toward the single stall.

You’re thankful it’s a relatively big, clean-looking single stall bathroom, Spencer locking the door behind you as you lean back against the sink. Spencer’s taller figure crowds you in with ease, and you feel swallowed up by him as he kisses you again. He’s desperate, eager as his tongue slips into your mouth, his little noises so deliciously sinful as you kiss him back.

“Spence–” you gasp, in between kissing Spencer back. “Oh, baby–”

“What we did over the phone wasn’t enough,” he murmurs, eyes unblinking as he gazes at you. “I need you right now.”

Sure enough, Spencer’s hard in his pants. He pushes his hips forward, pressing his erection against your thigh. You whimper, drawing your lower lip between your teeth. “Please, Spence. You can take me right here, right now.”

You feel just as desperate as Spencer seems, his hands eager as they roam up your body. He’s eager to touch and squeeze and grope whatever he can get his hands on, and you relish in the way his large, sturdy hands grab your thighs, your waist, your breasts.

“You look so good tonight, my love,” Spencer grunts as he presses his face to your neck, his lips kissing up the column of your neck hurriedly. “So gorgeous. Letting me show you off to all my friends too– Thank you, you’re so perfect–”

“Spencer,” you gasp, hand sliding down to rub at his hard-on. You’re so turned on by how aroused Spencer is already, from just kissing you, from just touching you. “Fuck me, please?”

Spencer exhales shakily, lifting you up slightly so you can sit back on the countertop, your legs spread to accommodate Spencer between them. You’re soaked through your underwear, and you watch Spencer marvel at the sight. His hands are shaking slightly as he undoes his belt, pushing his pants down just enough to get his cock out. He’s hard and heavy and leaking, and you find yourself drooling as he strokes himself momentarily.

Spencer’s biting his lower lip in utter concentration, pushing your dress up and out of the way. You expect his hands to slide your panties off, but instead his fingers push the fabric aside, revealing your slick, wet entrance that he presses the head of his cock to. “Oh–”

“Like this,” Spencer says, breathless, his sentence not even fully coherent but you understand, especially when Spencer pushes the tip of his cock into you. You muffle a sob into your hand, feeling so on edge as you accommodate Spencer’s length. 

The burn is perfect, the slow drag of his cock inside of you teetering between pain and pleasure. It’s a primal urge the both of you desperately need to fulfil, and the way he presses into you satiates you so perfectly. Your arms slung around Spencer’s neck, you cry out weakly as he rocks his hips into you, already brutal and hurried with the pace. 

You’ve never felt this undone, so desperate that you’d let yourself get fucked in a bathroom stall. You barely have any alcohol in your system, for you to feel reckless enough to do something like this. Hell, Spencer hadn’t even taken your panties off before he’d started fucking you. The fact that prim and proper Spencer of all people is making you like this makes your head spin. 

“Oh, fuck, baby,” you whimper into his shoulder. “So good, Spence, oh–”

“You feel so good,” Spencer groans, hips stuttering as he tells you just that. “You’re so perfect. I love you.”

“I love you so much,” you hiccup, feeling Spencer drill into you, the muffled slap of his thrusts hitting the back of your thighs. You’re so overwhelmed, pleasure zipping through you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, as Spencer fucks you like you’re the only person in the world that matters right now. 

“I’m close,” Spencer gasps, pace growing uneven, hurried, as he chases his pleasure while trying so hard to make you feel good too. “Please, I–”

You cry out as your orgasm hits you, too sudden, too quick. You clench around Spencer as your body shakes, Spencer fucking you through it with desperation. You don’t expect to come so quickly, but you suppose missing Spencer has an effect on you. 

You squelch obscenely with your release as Spencer continues to fuck you, needy and hurried, moaning in your ear as he stumbles into his orgasm too, wracking through his body like he has no control over it. You feel his load spill inside of you, hot and messy, his hands trembling as his thrusts slow.

“Oh, fuck,” you say, laughing slightly. “Holy shit, Spencer. We just had sex in a public bathroom, this is crazy.”

“We just had sex in a public bathroom,” Spencer echoes, sounding mildly panicked. “Oh, my God.”

“It was very fucking hot.” You assure him, holding his face in your hands to look him in the eyes, stopping him from overthinking. “But we should probably go home, because I’m a fucking mess between my legs right now.”

“I might need to take a shower,” Spencer says, his voice wavering slightly. “The sink is technically the most germ-ridden surface in a public bathroom, the damp environment makes it a–”

“Spencer, I love you so much, but for your sake and mine, let’s not talk about germs right now.” You shudder at the thought. “I think I need to take a shower after that too.”

“Let me clean you up, and we can go home.” Spencer, despite his germ anxieties, is rather sweet in cleaning you up. Your panties are ruined with fluids, and you’re starting to feel Spencer’s load trickling out of you when you stand back up, but you relish in the fact that you’re going to be back at his apartment soon enough. 

(The fact that Spencer hadn’t corrected you when you called his place home, makes your heart sing.)

You clean up your makeup and make your hair look as presentable as it can be, especially after your boyfriend has literally fucked you in a public bathroom, and when you both look presentable enough, you try to slip out of the bathroom casually.

Unfortunately, Derek and Emily are right there, catching you in the act of leaving, obviously noting the way you and Spencer look absolutely dishevelled. 

Derek raises his eyebrows, grinning. “Damn, lover boy.”

“Shut up,” Spencer retaliates weakly, his voice slightly shaky. 

“We’re heading home first,” you say with all the confidence you can muster, trying very hard not to feel extremely embarrassed in front of Spencer’s very smug friends. You’re still holding Spencer’s hand, and you feel a little less afraid. “It was fun getting to meet you guys.”

Emily shakes her head playfully, smiling. “We’d love to hang out more with you another time. Maybe when Reid isn’t so desperate to get alone with you?”

Spencer makes a displeased noise, but you smile and nod at her. “Definitely.”

Derek and Emily let you slip out of the bar without saying much else, and you hope that the rest of Spencer’s team doesn’t hear about it. 

As you and Spencer step out of the bar and into the cool, evening air, you kiss his cheek once more. “I love you. Now, let’s get home so we can shower. And then we can have sex again in the comfort of your bed?”

Spencer grins, any earlier embarrassment seeming to melt away. “That sounds perfect. God, I love you.”

[mygnolia]

YOU MAKE ME GO CRAZY OVER YOU !!

୨୧ -› hey, that boy over there..isn't he the most popular student athlete on campus? how did you two meet, anyway?

pair -› jock/athlete! enhypen x fem! reader | wc -› 3.5k (700 per member) | no warnings! | library

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ LEE HEESEUNG

im gonna sigh dreamily when i say he’s most DEF basketball captain. 

yes ik i wrote about this in wrong number i dont CARE i will say it with my whole chest 

DORK DORK DORK but cute dork with lethal face card. smirks after making yet another basket and winks at you

age old question how tf did yall meet!!! 

you pass by the gym and some guy on the way stops to talk to you 

like “hey i know you from somewhere”

“yes heeseung we were partners from a project two weeks ago how do you not remember..” 

he’s embarrassed asf especially because he remembers a lot of people’s names

after that he wants to be in your good graces and be friends

totally not because he remembered how you did a lot of the work for said project no complaints!!

and he doesn’t want you to rat him out to the teacher… or tell other people he’s not friendly

‘hey y/n, come to my game? i’ll do better if you’re there :)” 

you go only because you needed to complete an assignment while you were there at school anyways 

but sometimes you’d see him laughing with his friends, or how serious he is on court and woah, heeseung looks cool for once

you wait for him after because you figured he needed you for something 

“awh, you wanted for me?” “i could be doing much better things.” “awh, come on y/n let’s get some ice cream! my treat since we get to spend time together” 

he’s annoying but you let him tag around because he doesn’t bother you LOL

more under the cut!

drags you along when he practices alone so he can have some company

you like the company and the white noise too

you definitely doubt if he likes you because he is SUCH A FLIRT but no he DOES! he writes a confession on a basketball and ‘misses’ so you can catch it

you pass it back without seeing the message 

but heeseung keeps missing and it almost hits you on the head and you’re like ‘dude you SUCK hello??” he says ‘oh lol maybe it’s the ball” byee why was he smooth with it!!!!

you check the message and roll your eyes 

“if i make this you have to kiss me” you tell him and you’re about to shoot but he picks you up and brings you right next o the next to let you throw it in and then kisses u!!!!

not to be like oh im writing an smau on basketball captain heeseung but.. *tucks hair behind ear* 

most definitely tries to be mysterious and cool when you’re dating 

dribbles in front of you, trick shots, runs up to you when you’re alone, gives you one kiss between ever basket he makes 

teaches you how to play!!!!

ABSOLUTELY lights up when someones mentions you when you two date

“oh yeah my partner in math is ___” 

“omg ___?? the love of my life ___??” 

you lowk have to drag him away i fear 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ PARK JONGSEONG 

baseball captain *faints* 

enhypen x mariners and him speaking in english…so you want me DECEASED 

baseball captain jay and you who attends his games because jake aka ur friend on the team knows you have nothing better to do 

“i bet you won’t make it even to five games before buying cotton candy” jake says because you have a MASSIVE sweet tooth 

you tried really hard because $15 and a burger was on the line 

and you kept coming because…well there was a cute captain who always knew how to rally his teammates and get them excited 

also great sportsmanship and was super friendly to everyone! 

definitely got mad when the umpire makes a wrong call 

sharp reaction times. EVEN SHARPER JAW. 

of course you stared! of course you were not paying attention to whatever jake was saying about his test after their game..how could you when jay was doing his lopsided smile as his friend pats him on the shoulder from ten feet away??

one time you come early because they’re practicing on the field and you see jay and jake passing to each other

jay just so effortlessly throwing the ball…oh my god

he’s just so perfect and jake cheers from the sidelines because he knows his captain pays attention to every single person who has stepped foot on the baseball field iNCLUDING YOU

you come up to jake after the fourth game, showing him you still had your $5 and your tongue wasn’t stained with any blue or pink

jay comes over, arm thrown around jake’s shoulder as he waves and smiles to you 

dark hair with a twinge of sweat as he runs a hand through it, pulling it back to place on his cap 

JAY IN A BASEBALL CAP *faints again*

he walks you out to the parking lot and asks what the $5 in your pocket is for because he keeps seeing you pull it out 

you explain your whole bet to him and he nods

next game. before it starts. he gets you cotton candy and makes sure it gets to you somehow 

you smile and you’re all giddy when you eat it because there’s a p.j. on the cap and he’s just so cute 

jake doesn’t say anything he already knows it’s happening between you two. 

jay finally writes on a baseball and tells you to catch, and it says ‘let’s date’ and you grab a sharpie and scribble ‘kiss me first’ 

OH YEAH HE WALKS OVER AND KISSES YOU. 

soon every game instead of cotton candy  it’s his baseball cap when it’s sunny, his jacket when you’re cold, baseballs with notes on them, and roses for his girlfriend aka youuuuu 

jay is such a romantic and he is not afraid to show it 

he orders custom jerseys that say jay/n on the back with the day you got together!!!!! 

BEST BOYFRIEND EVERRRRRR

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ SIM JAEYUN

rugby player jake but he has dark long hair let that settle in 

campus flirt campus playboy but in reality he doesn’t go on dates and nothing really happens past the smiles, he’s just super popular

you are also pretty well known! a little flirty but super sweet and your charm and how expressive and open you are with other people is what people like!

and he sees you cheering with your friend who he remembers is dating someone from the team

rugby has no gear so he just runs like no tomorrow 

smiling in the sun or determined stare as he talks to his team, you never know 

he yells either in frustration, victory, or defeat, literally will never be silent 

so after a game you follow your friend down to the railing and she has her little moments with her boyfriend 

and you and jake kind of awkwardly stand there for a moment 

he wipes his sweat off with a towel and smiles at you, cracking the ice 

“how long have you had to deal with that?” he points over to them 

you shrug and tell him “however long you’ve been dealing with it” he laughs 

oh wow his smile when he’s right in front of you is just so pretty 

and his little chuckle as he shakes his head and looks back up at you 

‘who do you watch on the field?’ he asks, with a little smirk because he likes you 

‘whoever catches my attention’ you tell him also smiling 

oh its a CHALLENGE. he will make sure to run on the side of the field you’re watching from, winking at you on the field, ugh just everything 

you come to a party at the end of the season to celebrate and he sees you 

“you came!!” super happy and makes sure you are next to him all the time 

“y/n you know the teammates, yeah?” you smile and congratulate them 

he leaves to get you a soda/water and jungwon leans in 

“jake LOVES to talk about you by the way” 

“yeah he always says how pretty you are in the library or in class, he likes when your friend comes because that means you come with her”

heeseung nods, “super into you, no joke” 

jake comes back trying to play it off “who’s into y/n?” 

you poke at his shoulder and smile, “you” and he’s all bashful and giggly 

loves to call himself ‘y/n’s girlfriend’ 

‘sorry, i can’t i have to buy flowers for y/n’ ‘sorry y/n needs me to help her study’ ‘sorry y/n needs a ride here’ STUCK TO YOUR HIP

ofc he doesn’t abandon his friends but he loves spending time with you :3

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon’s reputation proceeds him—cold on the court and just as reserved off of it

ugh he’s so annoying, he always has his bag in the same spot as yours and he always is at the water filling station with hos annoying 32oz bottle before you

also hogs that automatic tennis ball throwing machine like how are YOU supposed to practice tennis too 

‘hey i need that’ he furrows his eyebrows and shrugs 

‘i was here first’ ‘what are you twelve????’ sunghoon tells you ‘get here earlier next time then 

oh yeah. for the next week you ran to the courts everytime to get it before him 

one day he sees you and races you to the gates and you beat him 

sulky after as if his career is over

definitely varsity and one of the best, but he never approaches girls after his games

one time you go to a men’s game because it’s one of the most anticipated of the season 

its neck to neck, third set with 40-adv, sunghoon’s serve

he chases after that ball and sends it over, it barely hits the net and tumbles over, AND HE WINSSSS BRAHHHHH 

even if you hate him you will admit that he made the game extremely interesting 

you see his friends congratulate him and you notice that he never gets his clothes dirty 

always wears white to practice—pristine asf 

secretly he loves watching you too

even if you hate him for getting on your nerves some days and almost never doing more than bare minimum, you cannot lie and say sunghoon isn’t a huge inspiration 

just as you are to him 

sunghoon thinks your tenacity and passion for tennis is what makes you so fun to watch 

so even if he has homework, he goes to a game of yours and comes down to the court after the game 

bumps your shoulder after, ‘good game, y/n’ and you’re like ?? ‘you’re here?’ and he’s sooo nonchalant when he says ‘of course, i can’t miss a fun game can i?’ 

there’s a fun mixed doubles tournament for a whole gift basket of things and you come up to him 

‘hey let’s pair up’ and he grins 

you two play each other for practice and you’ve tied the score so many times you’ve lost count

and sunghoon’s a little annoying but oh lord he’s so attrative??? so maybe he wasn’t THAT annoying…

mixed doubles tourney rolls around and oh yeah. you two win.

you know much he likes natto and you say ‘here you take the natto’ he shakes his head ‘no you eat it all the time’

you two bicker and you say ‘fine lets just share it!’ and to your surprise..he opens the package and just mixes it all in 

you two sit and share the natto, then he tells you he thinks you’re pretty cool on court 

you raise your eyebrow cuz where is this coming from!! and he rolls his eyes 

‘nevermind maybe you’re only bright on the court’ 

‘hey what’s that supposed to mean!!!’ you take the natto and eat all of it LMFAO and then he pouts because noo his natto!!!

you kiss his cheek. it’s ok everything is ok now he is a happy boy 

“you’re my match” you write on a tennis ball pin and he keeps it on his bag like his life DEPENDS on it

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ KIM SUNOO

THE CUTEST VOLLEYBALL SETTER EVER 

i hate to be like oh you’ve had the fattest crush on him for like two months BUT ITS TRUE 

you’re on yearbook and you make an excuse to go see sunoo play!!

you two met when you were at a volleyball game and you told him to smile, but he’s one of those guys who says “wait delete that take another one!!” 

and ofc you agree, snapping a few cute photos of him

he posts to his social media, tagging you with a cute song saying ‘thanks photographer :3” 

and so you it begins, your small little crush on him..

he loves seeing you at his games, always makes sure to wave to you on the court 

hey so setter sunoo is insanely good at what he does 

so graceful when he places a NASTY setter dump on the other team, a glare shot at one of the other team’s members bad-mouthing him, but a glowing smile as he high-fives all his teammates! 

super supportive, and you loveee that about him!! he cares so much about everyone it makes your heart warm 

“here, let’s eat together,” you tell him, and you bring him some noodles you made because he said he was craving some 

he smiles at you and sits down, beginning to slurp slurp slurp and SCOREEE he loves it 

“thanks y/n, let me treat you some time :)” UGH DEAD DEAD 

KIM SUNOO KING OF FLOAT SERVES 

huge smile on his face when it lands where it needs to, he loves that feeling of satisfaction and soaks up all of your praise after his games are over 

he slips out of practice sometimes to see what you’re doing in yearbook, and he’ll take your camera to tell you to smile as he takes pics

someone in your class tells you too to look overfor a photo , so he loops an arm around your shoulders to pull you close and smile 

AND OH EM GEE UR LIKE TOTALLY GEEKING OUT OVER IT HELLO??????/ 

you ask her to print you a copy of it to save in your scrapbook, but sunoo cuts in and asks for another one 

“i like seeing you” DEAD IN A DITCH esp when he smiles at you and then runs off to practice before he gets in trouble

so competitive on the court and it makes him a little sulky when he loses 

“argh i did so bad today” he’d tell you, but in your eyes hello kim sunoo could do no wrong!! and you share your snacks while reassuring him 

he swears tho, “nooo, i had to look cool for you!” and you’re tired of hearing him say and do all of these sweet things and straight up 

“why?” “what do you mean, y/n?” “why do you want to look cool for me?” “well i liked you duh!” 

but sunoo never wanted to confess, he was too scared he wasn’t good yet at showing you all of his perfect bf traits 

WELL HE THOUGHT WRONG!! he’s been perfect from d1 so now he just sneaks in like 40 kisses before every game 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ YANG JUNGWON

see so jungwon, he’s been a little FLIRTY as of recently. 

“you like older guys? but im a younger guy with rhythm” WHAT THE FKSCNHDJFD

whatever. anyways jungwon focuses on badminton like it’s a lifeline 

hitting birdies in his sleep would be smth he would do if he could, he loves how aggressive he can be in the sport without moving too much, lots of strategy involved 

you come to one of his games because your friend is on the other team, and you want to cheer him on

but jungwon notices you’re literally from his school?? 

isn’t it weird you’re going to a game for someone on the other team…

so he sets off a plan 

he goes to you after the game before your friend can

“hey, how come you don’t support anyone on our team” so straight to the point help 

and you tilt your head in confusion because “well i don’t know anyone from the team and you’re all scary”

scary??? jungwon makes it his personal mission to debunk that cuz no one is SCARY 

maybe sunghoon but that’s because he’s varsity 1 and the best player within 150 miles but whatever

he makes it his mission to wave to you when he sees you and when he’s sat next to you in one of your classes he’s like yay perf 

“you’re the guy from that badminton game huh?” “is that a good or bad thing” 

you shrug “whatever you want it to be” 

and he asks you to go to his next game but if he wins, you have to support the team and if he loses 

and you stare at him like “wtf do i get out of it” 

jungwon did NOT think about that 

he promises to buy you a snack after 

and it’s free food so you can’t complain 

you two talk more and he finds out you used to play badminton before you hurt your ankle and wanted to focus on school 

so he takes you to practice and gives you one of his expensive rackets

lowk falling in love everytime you laugh and chase the birdie 

jungwon pretends to hate chasing after it but he’ll still hit it back even if it’s out of bounds because he doesn’t want to waste your time picking it up

you two sit down and you tell him how fun it was to be able to play, and how much you missed it from your childhood 

your school holds a small festival where other school athletes go against your team modified lighting rounds 

paired with vendors and fun carnival stands, but the main attractions are always the variety of sports to watch

jungwon is one of the representatives from your school but so is your friend from the other school, so it’s heated when they play

you tie a ribbon around his racket (curtesy of sunghoon for helping you out) and write a note saying “if you do good ill cheer for you” 

AND HE WINS. so you keep your end of the bargain and cheer for him after the game is over, giving him a high five and a hug

he walks with you and asks about what you two are BECAUSE THIS IS A DATE this is date behavior 

“of course i like you won who wouldn’t”

let’s just say he gives u little kisses all over when you two are alone sigh so cute

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ NISHIMURA RIKI

he’s been on the soccer team ever since he was a freshman and even before, retaining his cute features and mischievous personality 

when you became assistant manager you were scared but your brother heeseung was on the team and your mom told you to look after him at school 

and riki takes after heeseung a LOT when they play and heeseung even goes as far as inviting riki over 

so riki’s super good at soccer by the time heeseung leaves, but he also has this small crush on you that heeseung’s told you about 

you just never said anything because you never had a reason to nor were you uncomfortable with it 

but junior year hits and riki comes back from winter break with pitch black hair all styled 

also…a lot taller than you. and no more baby fat 

and you paid attention to some of it because you saw him for practice, but the hair really did it 

during practice he loves to mess with you saying things like “can you fill up my water y/n pleaseeee” “no you have two feet” “ill win the next game against ____ if you get me water” “i’ll kick you off the team if you don’t win” 

he sighs and gets up, glaring down at you and you try not to let his playful stare affect you, but SOMETHING was different something was in the air

if riki doesn’t play good, it’s because his team manager aka you is NOT there 

you come back the next day to find out he was sulking and didn’t play super well because you weren’t encouraging him

“go run a lap, riki” and HE DOES JUST THAT “go practice on the field by yourself”

“how about you ask me to date you next” he grumbles 

and you HEAR him. loud and clear. 

but you’re like agh what if he doesn’t mean it what if he’s just joking 

at the next game he does super well and you congratulate the whole team 

yas team hybe eats 

you two are getting ready to go home when he finally brings it up

“you heard what i said on tuesday” and you know exactly what he means 

“yep.” “so why didn’t you say anything back” “i didn’t know if you were being serious”

he scoffs “y/n when have i ever not been serious about you”  

he opens your door even if he’s passenger princess 

makes fun of you for how much closer you need the wheel to be to drive

YAYYYY Y/NKI IS REAL

he loves to drape an arm around your shoulder walking around school 

acts as if he’s older when you two are literally the same age HELP 

reblogs/interactions are appreciated always!

have some shameless self promo for my spiderman!riki fic!

and my upcoming jake fic!

[deansbeer]

BITE YOUR TONGUE OR USE IT BETTER.

꒰ . ⋮ minors do not interact .ᐟ ֹ ꒱

༝༚༝༚ synopsis. a heated argument quickly ends up in a fight for dominance in bed.

༝༚༝༚ warning(s). smut | mild angst | arguing | fem!reader | rough sex | make-up sex | dom!jason | switch dynamics | light choking | spanking | oral (fem!receiving) | cowgirl position | dirty talk | possessiveness | praising | degradation | jealousy.

༝༚༝༚ kari notes. i NEED him viscerally & i know i previously announced that i was taking a writing break 👀 but i'm making an exception for jason hehehehe u can also thank bree for being the inspo behind the idea <3

it starts with something small — it always does.

a passing comment. a bitter tone. one look too long at someone else. and then it's wildfire.

you're yelling, he's yelling louder. the walls of the apartment echo with the sharp slap of words neither of you really mean but throw anyway, like knives meant to miss but still cut too deep.

"you think i don't notice?" jason's voice is hoarse from the way it's been rising for the past fifteen minutes. "the way you play it off like i don't matter the second someone else gives you attention?"

you scoff, arms crossed, standing your ground in the kitchen, your chest heaving with frustration. "oh, fuck you, jason. you're the one who disappears for days without a text and then gets mad when i talk to someone else."

"i'm out risking my ass to make this city better—"

"and i'm supposed to just sit here and wait? maybe light a candle and pray you'll actually come home in one piece?"

his jaw tightens, blue eyes blazing, chest rising and falling with quick, angry breaths. "don't twist this. you know i care. you know i fuckin' love you."

"then stop acting like i'm the enemy," you snap, voice cracking under the weight of it all.

there's a beat of silence. a long one. your eyes lock with his, and the air between you could spark if it tried. you're both breathing hard, adrenaline still pulsing, and then—

he moves. and he's quick.

his hand curls around the back of your neck, pulling you in, lips crashing into yours with a fury that steals the breath from your lungs. it's not gentle — it's claiming. demanding. your fingers fist in his shirt before you even realize what's happening, your anger bleeding into desire so fast it makes your head spin.

"you drive me fuckin' crazy," he growls against your mouth, backing you into the wall. "always got a smart ass mouth. always testing me."

"maybe you like the idea of being tested," you breathe, tugging his shirt up, fingers dragging across his pudgy stomach. "you keep showing up for it."

he growls, low and rough, grabbing your thighs and lifting you with ease. your legs wrap around his waist, caged between his body and the wall, and you gasp as he grinds against you, already hard through the fabric of his jeans.

"you gonna continue being so mouthy?" he hisses against your neck, biting just hard enough to make you whimper. "or you want me to shut you up?"

"try me," you taunt, breathless, already soaked for him.

he carries you to the bedroom like he's got something to prove. maybe he does. throws you down onto the bed, pulls your shirt over your head, strips you down in seconds. his hands are rough, greedy, claiming every inch of your skin like it belongs to him.

joke's on him. it does.

he drops to his knees between your thighs, spreading them wide with a look that could bring you to your knees if you weren't already trembling. jason doesn't waste time, just dives in like he's a man starving, tongue licking a stripe up your slit before his lips wrap around your clit.

you cry out, hips bucking, and he grips your thighs tighter, holding you down.

"that's it," he mutters against your pussy, voice dark and wrecked. "take it. fuckin' take it, baby girl."

your fingers tangle in his dark hair, tugging, and he groans like he likes it — like the pain only spurs him on. he eats you until your hips are trembling, until you're gasping his name like a prayer and pushing at his shoulders, too sensitive to take more.

"jason—please—need you inside me."

he pulls back, lips shiny, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand like he’s just finished a meal. "yeah, you do. pussy's soakin' the damn sheets. so fuckin' desperate for my cock, aren't you?"

you glare at him, flushed and breathless. "you're one to talk."

he climbs over you, dragging his cock against your inner thigh, hot and heavy. "you want control so bad, huh, baby?" he murmurs, hand wrapping around your throat, thumb brushing your jaw. "you'll get it. but not yet."

then he's inside you. one deep, punishing thrust, and your whole body arches, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he stretches you full. his hand tightens at your throat just enough to make your pulse race harder.

"fuck, you're tight," he groans, hips slamming into you. "always so fuckin' tight for me."

you moan, nails dragging down his back, and he hisses, grinding deeper, chasing the spot that makes your toes curl.

he fucks you like he's trying to erase the fight, like he's trying to remind you who you belong to. every thrust is rough, precise, his mouth dragging along your throat, your shoulder, biting and kissing the skin like he needs to mark you.

"fuckin' mine," he growls into your ear. "say it."

"yours," you gasp, legs wrapped tight around his waist. "all yours, jay. always."

he groans, the sound deep and raw, and kisses you like he means to ruin you. and you want him to.

you flip him before you even realize what you're doing — legs slipping around him, pushing him back, riding the wave of heat and fury and need. his eyes darken as you slide down onto him, slow and deliberate.

"oh, fuck," he mutters, hands gripping your hips. "you think you're in control now, huh?"

"i don't think," you whisper, rolling your hips so slow he trembles. "i know."

you ride him hard, fast, chasing your own high with reckless abandon. his hands grip you tight, dragging you down harder, matching your rhythm until the room’s filled with the sound of skin on skin, your moans tangled with his gasps.

"look at you," he groans, eyes locked on where your bodies meet. "bouncin' on my cock like you need it to breathe."

you lean in, kiss him messy, filthy, all teeth and tongue.

"maybe i do."

his cock twitches inside you and you feel him getting close, but you don't stop. you fuck him through it, chasing your own orgasm, using his body like it was made for you. only you.

"gonna cum," he growls, thrusting up to meet you. "you better cum with me, baby girl."

you nod, breath hitching as your body tightens, pleasure coiling until it snaps, and you cry out his name as you fall apart, clenching around him like a vice.

he follows with a broken groan, hips jerking, spilling deep inside you as he holds you down, buried to the hilt.

you collapse against him, both of you shaking, panting, sweat-slicked and utterly wrecked.

his arms wrap around you, holding you close even as he's still inside you. his lips press against your temple, his voice rough but soft now.

"still mad at me?" he murmurs.

you laugh, breathless, nuzzling into his neck. "yeah."

he huffs, fingers tracing lazy circles along your spine. "next time we fight, can we skip to the part where you ride me like that?"

you smile, eyes fluttering shut. "not a fucking chance."

he chuckles, kisses your hair, and pulls you closer.

"figured."

and even though the fight still lingers in the air, tangled in the sheets and the bruises you both left behind, so does something else, something steady and real.

him.

you.

and the fire that always brings you back together.

@ deansbeer is tagging you .ᐟ @titsout4jackles @daylighted @jensenacklesballsack @h8aaz @bluestrd @ultravi0lence14 @blue-d @bluemerakis @stereotypicalbarbie @funkycoloured @fuckedupfate ╱ wanna be added? join my taglist <3