#screwed myself over with another idea

[halfagone]

Imagine a DPxDC AU where Danny's identity gets outed, not like in Phantom Planet, but after this really huge, widespread fight that the heroes were late in entering but still managed to help out and finish at the end. They don't know Danny. They don't know Phantom. All they know is that there's an unknown hero out here fighting for his life and they aren't about to let him fight it alone. And here Danny is, fourteen maybe fifteen years old, transformation rings falling over him on national television and you can see the look of terror on his face before suddenly there are about a dozen heroes surrounding him like shields to protect him from view. It doesn't stop his face and identity from being blasted around the news or the internet, but for the first time Danny knows what it feels like to have unconditional support from strangers and suddenly he's very happy they're shielding him from the cameras because it's bad enough they saw his face he doesn't want them to see him cry too.

[screampied]

#THE GRUDGE! g. satoru

☆ sum. perhaps screwing your ex-husband while the kids are out trick-or-treating wasn’t the best idea. but with him, the only treat he wants to trick is not in a basket—it’s right between your legs.. boo!

wc. 6.6k

warnings. fem! reader, ex-husband gojo, mentions of (2) kids, unprotected, pwp, mild hatefùcking, kakashi references eheh, gojo's still whipped, filthy dirty talk, prone bone, praise, implied bréeding, cunnīlingus / face sītting, bóob fondling, possessive themes, size kink, overstim, brat taming, fıngering, squırting, petnames.

➤ kinktober mlist

at the gojo’s, you mentally smack yourself as your feet step onto the scream-themed door mat that reads ‘step if you dare.’ part of you wished no one would answer the doorbell, but part of you solely wished he didn’t answer. it was about seven thirty at night, and with it being saturday, you had the kids for a few days. after that, you’d switch with satoru—your jeering hot-headed ex-husband. you decided since you got off early you’d take them trick-or-treating for a bit. but it’s to your utmost ‘surprise’ that satoru opens the door.

“oh! and who are you supposed to be pretty lady?” he’d hum, digging his hands into his pockets. satoru purposely tilts his head down, getting a good look at you while raising a brow. of course, he always went out for his costumes. this year, he’s wearing some sort of green flak jacket, a mask, and a long-sleeved shirt underneath with dark blue pants.

with a grump, you tuck your arms underneath your pits with your purse clinging onto your shoulder. “myself,” and your eyes flicker toward his messy frosted hair that’s spikier than usual. satoru’s wide headband partially droops below his left eye before you finish mumbling, “who are you even supposed to be.”

“uh, kakashi hatake. the man, the myth, the legend,” and satoru leans back against the front door, pulling out a fake kunai. a hand runs through his hair before he snickers at your unamused expression. tough crowd. “aw, you must be here for the kids, yeah? well, they’re out with nanami ‘n suguru trick-or-treatin’. just some blocks down,” and satoru stepped a few feet back once you trod your way inside, mutely cursing yourself that you’d probably have to wait until they got back. as long as they were with nanami and suguru—you didn’t have a problem. satoru shuts the timber wooden-made door behind him before speaking smugly. “oh. sure.. sure, just make yourself right at home, wifey.”

“don’t call me that.”

“just did.”

oh, brother.

the moment you stepped foot into your old spacey luxurious townhome satoru had built personally for you and your kids—the memories all came crawling back. the two of you didn’t end off on a bad note—divorces happen, and you both maintained a healthy relationship with the kids. you each agreed to co-parent, you’d get the week and he’d get the weekend - sometimes switching and vice versa.

“excuse the mess,” satoru hums, grabbing your coat. he tosses it over his shoulder before giving you another up-down glance. “if i knew you were comin’ over around this hour i’d clean a bit,” and he watches you struggle to keep eye contact. “hey. sweetheart, you’re lookin’ down again.”

with a scoff, you meet his gaze again. and fuck, does he look like he’s gotten even more handsome.

satoru gojo was always attractive—there was no doubt about it.

he was in his mid-thirties now, the two of you had settled down after college before having two kids of your own.

again, there wasn’t a reason for your divorce that was relatively a bad thing. you two just both decided to part ways - but of course, it was lots of unprovoked tension.

the costume that he wore was apparently based on some character named ‘kakashi’ whatever, and like always, he dressed the part. every year once the end of october would come around, satoru would wear an outfit just ‘cause. he stood tall, with serrated white hair that was jagged from all angles with the headband hanging off a side of his eye. in the middle part, the symbol was some kind of swirl that was never-ending.

satoru rambled to you that it was something . . something, a hidden leaf—honestly, you tuned out.

he wore the mask part too, covering up a good portion of his face from the nose down, and even had the red slanting scar that kakashi had near the left side of his eye that was probably makeup.

“i don’t wanna fight, gojo.”

“hmph. so it’s ‘gojo’ now,” he rolls his eyes, hanging your coat up near the rack. you take a quick peer around the room, seeing a plethora of toys and multicolored legos everywhere. it nearly makes you smile, remembering when satoru stepped on one of his youngest daughter’s legos. satoru leans against the glassy kitchen island, watching you take a seat near the crimson-red stool before humming. “and i don’t wanna fight either. in fact, i jus’ wanna talk.”

“so . . talk then,” you murmur, shifting your weight in your feet.

a brief smile creases against both sides of his lips before he grins. “soooo,” and it’s an awkward pause. you eye your ex-husband and he’s got somewhat of a bashful expression. rimy eyes of his dart toward your hand—your fingers specifically before he slyly coos. “i see you’re still wearin’ your wedding ring.”

shit.

he had a point.

after all this time, you still had your ring on. satoru did too—he also kept his ring on all the time, happily flashing it in front of countless numbers of women who’d try to hit on him.

you honestly don’t know why you still held on to it, let alone wear it, and to your surprise—you thought he’d stop wearing his those long seven months ago when the two of you officially split.

you bit the inside of your cheek before letting off a snarky, “shut up.”

satoru nearly snickers before he leans up close to you, only a few inches away. he’s so close that you get a loud wafting whiff of his citrusy cologne.

you remember the exact brand too, and it wasn’t exactly cheap either. he’d buy at least a dozen whenever the two of you went out shopping together - well, used to.

there’s so much tension between you both that you could cut it with a knife - the tension was thick, and the awkward dull pauses only made it even more intense.

there’s an annoying voice in your brain that’s screaming at you to just screw it - screw him, make up for lost time, and just . . . kiss him.

you did want to kiss satoru, and your eyes found themselves glancing toward his pearly pink lips that were almost always naturally glossed.

satoru’s eyes intently lock against yours for a few seconds before he casually brings a thumb up to the corner of your mouth, wiping away a bit of your lip gloss before cooing huskily. he expects you to pull away, but you don’t— in fact, you lean into his touch. once he notices, the only thing he replies with is a playful curt utter of,

“make me.”

so you do, but . . not in the way he expected.

not that satoru gojo was ever a man to complain though, especially with you.

and that’s when he found himself in quite a lewd predicament. satoru’s laid back against his cushiony padded mattress with you straddling his perfectly sculptured chin. a gloved hand of his grip near your right hip before he strums a thumb down your sopping wet entrance.

glossy - it’s prettier like he’s never seen it, and he can’t help but lick his lips like an animal preparing to feast the second you start to smear yourself against his chin.

“y’knowww baby, when you told me to shut up i didn’t think you meant sitting on my f—mmph,” and you cut him off mid-sentence by softly planting your cunt back on his mouth.

satoru grunts, bringing his free hand to wrap around the other unoccupied corner of your waist. he grunts, dipping his tongue inside before the familiar taste comes crawling back to his spiraling tastebuds. your taste, he missed your sweetness . . almost as much as he missed you.

as you sweetly moan within each dragging second, you glance down at him with hazed-blown pupils. shifting your wobbly weight and knees against his face, you start to feel his stubble rub on your skin. it almost tickles - but oh, you weren’t laughing.

his tongue had you doing quite the opposite.

“f- fuck,” you huff out, already starting to feel the plunging heaves of your stomach commence. sure, this was probably a bad idea, and sure, you and him probably needed to have an actual conversation at some point but now - you didn’t care about words.

you didn’t care about anything, and part of you kind of missed him.

perhaps his tongue was a majority reason for that part, and each time he rummages inside the deep secluded parts of your pussy, you let off cute individual mewling whimpers. satoru’s always been skilled, and he knew just how to please you.

his tongue always knew how to remind you of how much it’s missed its favorite meal.

curl after fucking curl, he’s leisurely spelling out letters and shapes and symbols with his tongue, taking every few seconds to swallow. satoru groans against your slobbering cunt, feeling you briefly thrust up against his nose and he can’t help but smell your tangy glacé coated sex.

it’s pleasantly sweet, and for a moment, scintillating blue eyes meet back up toward you. “h- heh, ‘s this why you came over? to shut me up ‘n use my fuckin’ mouth, sweetheart?”

“god, you talk t.. too much,” you moan, grabbing a fistful of his hair. in a way - that was true.

satoru was the definition of a blabbermouth.

he’d just talk and talk and talk . . yapping your ear off until you shut him right up in the best (and his personal favorite) way possible - sitting on his pretty face.

a pompous grin stretches across each corner of his lips whilst his jaw’s already dripping due to your slick that paints near the outer crevices of his thin lips. slow, it starts to slowly trickle down his chin at a snail-like pace, creating a shimmery coat of gloss that dribbles underneath his slack mandible.

satoru lays his long pointed tongue flat - savoring every single drop before he’s starting to suck against your clit.

“oh! fuck, right there ‘toru, riiiight there,” and he’s just sloppy. the mask part of his costume was pulled down to his neck as he was using his upper and bottom lip to munch against your sobbing pussy at irregularly paced intervals. your legs failed to stay still and you could already feel the carnal slope of your back starting to form an obtuse-like arch. “fuck, fuckin’ spit on it, ‘toru. pleasepleaseee.”

cute.

you’re calling him ‘toru again, and it makes him cockily grin knowing it was his tongue’s doing.

“wifey’s still as nasty as ever,” satoru whispers against your leaky folds, sliding a thin middle finger near your wet entrance. with a loud ‘psh’ you end up gushing out a bit abruptly and you whine loudly. your thighs rapidly snap together as you blink thrice, feeling his swollen lips glue against your pussy. “mmh, still a wet girl too. my wet girl.” you peek down at satoru who’s the literal epitome of the word smug.

he’s smearing his entire face against your teary slabbering cunt, spitting on it before lapping it right back up again.

you missed his nasty mouth - badly, and it makes your eyes shamelessly roll backward as you start to frailly rut your rickety hips into his mouth.

satoru brings two willowy fingers toward your slit before sliding the icy jewel rock of his wedding ring against your dribbling cunt.

wet, you were soaked and you let off shivering labored breaths once he started to toy with your saturated slick entrance.

with widened doe eyes, you meet his esurient-filled gaze and he hums at you. “listen to how damn wet she is,” he huffs, and you moan at the ridiculously drenching sounds of your pussy. he’s playing with you from between your thighs, chin still dripping with insane amounts of your syrupy juices. “mhm, i know, i know,” and you feel the feeble weight of your thighs quiver the second he’s focusing his attention primarily on your cunt now and not you.

all six eyes were fixated between your legs—

satoru strums the pad of his thumb down your drooling slit before gradually rolling his tongue from top-to-fucking-bottom.

he’s nasty, slithering the tip of his tongue everywhere until your toes curl and you’re letting off the cutest shrilling sounds. satoru even starts to spell out ‘m-a-r-r-y m-e’ and as lewd as it was, he’s proposing to your pussy. he needed you, and satoru knew the both of you divorcing was nearly inevitable, but he missed you.

he especially missed the way you tasted - so sweet, he could eat you out for hours even with his jaw sore ‘n locked. satoru’s a pussy pleaser, making you draw out sweet cries of more as he slurps you clean, his tongue occasionally sliding toward your puckering hole.

“satoru… ngh,” you whimper, the grip of your hand against his hair getting stronger. you’re fucking his face, grinding your slick against his mouth while watching his pretty frosty lashes flap. you’re squelching profusely, and each sloshing slosh of your pussy makes his dick twitch in his pants. “goddd, ‘m gonna cum. make me cum, fuck.”

“let’s see what she thinks,” he purrs, lustrous polished lips flushing into a pearly coat of clear once he licks them. satoru’s entirely pussy drunk, and you shudder once he slowly inserts a lanky middle finger. with a loud ‘pop!’ sound, it dexterously slides itself in, rummaging past the tight ring of your entrance.

fuck, he had such long fingers.

you almost forgot - satoru always joked with you how being ‘the strongest’ came with having six-inch fingers and he wasn’t fucking kidding . .

“hm, should my baby cum? does she deserve it?” and your lips curl up into a pout. he’s serious, having an entire conversation with your pussy. you moaned, maintaining a stiff grip on his hair before satoru started to smear circles against your cunt.

again, you’re just wet. your slickness amused him and satoru can’t help but playfully pat your pretty soddened pussy with the center of his palm once he doesn’t get a reply. the only reply he does get is the cute sloshing sounds that repeatedly gush between your poor quivery thighs.

you’re slowing yourself against his mouth as you straddle him, whimpering at the feeling of his thin digit piercing its way inside of you. you’re close, and you can feel yourself glitching and spasming the second the tip of his finger grazes past your g-spot.

already, he’s located it like ‘x’ marks the spot. your jaw was dropped, and you were on the verge of euphoric death.

satoru stretched your cunt out perfectly with just one finger, and sure . . you’ve had your fair share of intimacy with your ex-husband, but fuck did it always feel like the first time.

you couldn’t help but start to drool a bit, weakly rutting your hips against his face as you’re leisurely getting closer to the brink of your edge.

it’s carnal, you’re stupidly crisscrossed with your eyes flickering back and forth like turning signals before satoru starts to playfully nibble against your cunt again. this time though, he’s adding in another finger and the spongy pressure that’s being played with inside of you earns out a sweet honeyed gasp that sounds like a breathy shriek!

“toru, sato—fuck, ‘m cumming, ‘m gonna cum,” and your words repeated themselves over and over. you’re like a broken recurrent record on a looping vinyl. your cunt continues to sloppily rest against his perfect crooked lips the entire time as you’re blissfully coming undone.

satoru’s staring at you the entire time, practically undressing you with his eyes. he grunts, spotting how your perked nipples noticeably prodded through your silvery blouse. “ugh, fuuuck.” and it hits you like a crashing wave that slams its way into shore.

satoru’s still heartily pumping two slender digits in and out of your splashing cunt whilst you gush right on him, weak defeated hips losing their stability.

you were whimpering, tasting your candied orgasm on your tongue—it felt that good to where it’s like you could taste every nerve against your salivated tastebuds.

only satoru could make you cum on his tongue like this. you were speechless - frantically panting as you released your hand from his ghostly white strands. he’s still leaking your juices from the crannies of his lips before he exhales deeply.

“yeaaah, atta girl. lay it on me,” and you moan as he’s still sliding his long tongue in between the sopping folds of your sensitive cunt, gradually pulling out his lengthy digit pillars of fingers. “fuck, y’r so hot when you try ‘ta put me in my place, sweetheart.”

“stop talking,” you pant, getting off of him. satoru raises a pallid brow, and he grows amused once you suddenly push him to lie flat against his back. with a raspy ‘ugh’ he lands back against the velvet-colored pillows, a sly smirk marinating against his complacent features.

like a slut - he merrily manspreads just for you, long legs spread wide apart with a huge bulge sticking out of his pants.

he’s still got the shinobi headband on, part of it slumping down his left eye. “oh, what’s this?” he lowly gruffs, eyeing you from head to toe again.

this time though, it’s more sensual. satoru’s taking in every piece of fabric that’s protecting your skin, watching as you slowly undress yourself.

he could feel his boner excruciatingly rubbing against his pants the more he watched. he’s taking in your appetizing presented curves . . so pretty. especially after having two kids - his kids.

“gonna ride me, yeah?” he jibes, continuing once you were now left in nothing but a matching set of panties and bra.

coincidentally - the colors matched his exact eye color, and satoru always had a thing for you wearing clothes that matched his eyes. but like always, he just kept on talking. he was too cocky for his good, and maybe one more fuck was just what you needed. what you both needed.

just . . one . . more,

right?

well, that’s what you told yourself.

but all that went out the window the second you’re aligning yourself on his cock. satoru takes a sharp three-second breath, ogling at your every move. it’s like a game of chess. he’s waiting for you - for your cunt to make its move against his throbbing mushroomy tip.

two big hands of his wrap around your waist and he grunts lowly. feeling your slick cunt maneuver itself against his angry reddened tip makes his head slightly toss back in feral rapture.

his tip—it’s got a coral blush, and you let off a moan at feeling his hooked fat plump crownhead try to plummet its way in.

it’s rude, not caring to introduce itself to your cunt but slam its way in instead, asking if your insides remember him.

and it does - it definitely does.

“ohhh fuck,” you sob out a needy moan, your hips eagerly making two solid taut bucks against him.

satoru groans against your ear, swollen sack peeling back as you’re still straddling him. your body, it was in his arms again and he couldn’t help but feel you everywhere.

starting at your hips, he holds them tight, tracing the callused scarred tips of fingers all around the curvature of your body before trailing down toward the juncture of your rear. “god, don’t know how much i missed you ‘n your smart mouth,” and as you let off a surprised gasp, satoru grabs a nice chunk of your ass. “missed this ass just as much.”

“bet you did,” you puff, full lungs already on the verge of collapsing. he’s huge - and barely the tip was in and you could already feel your pussy starting to throw a fit of tantrums. satoru’s girth made him stretch more, and for a second you let off another sweet moan before meeting his gaze.

he’s got a delicious curve to him that always makes your insides twist and churn. it’s a feeling you’ll probably never get used to.

“what’s with the smirk? somethin’ funny?”

“you, baby,” satoru titters, giving you a haughty head nod. you feel your cunt throb as you’re trying to continue to lower yourself down on his cock but the stretch - fuck, pretty soon your poor cunt was about to be met with max fucking capacity.

satoru’s sparkly heavy-lidded eyes linger on you before he cups your chin, swiping a thumb across your wet quavering lips. “all that talk ‘n you still can’t take me. thought i trained my wife’s pussy good,” and with a teasing pout, he shrugs. “guessss not!”

“fuck you.” you moan, mentally groaning the second you felt yourself getting more soaked, just from his words alone.

pathetic - and yet, you wanted more.

satoru clicks his tongue, and with a blink of an eye, he now has you flipped over. you gasp, landing flat on your chest as he’s got your wrists restrained against your back.

satoru rolls his eyes, sprawling out your weak-kneed legs all the way apart to get a good glimpse of your sopping pussy from the back.

god, in his mind - it should have been a crime to be this wet. your sopping, pearly translucent molasses of your slick stream down your pulsing entrance and he grunts.

“fuck you,” he repeats, although he says it cheekily. even though you weren’t even facing him anymore you could almost visibly see the annoying shit-eating grin plastering on his face.

from ear to ear with each of his dimples piercing each wry crevice of his mouth, he's so smug--bastard.

your back arches and you moan the second he starts to smack his rotund tip against your pussy. “myyy, what a fuckin’ mess,” and you suck your teeth, feeling satoru’s loud spanks hit louder. each time his fat cockhead thumps itself against your wet outer folds, the vibrations make you shiver from the waist down.

the tingly tenderness makes your toes immediately curl up once more and your canorous-like moans start to become muffled once you dig your teeth into the edge of a nearby pillow. “still wet after alllll this time like a good messy girl,” he grits. with another smack of his tip, your leg twitches in response. “ooh, she likes that,” and satoru softly spreads your saturated cunt lips apart with two fingers just to see your pulse throb in full filthy action. “fuuck, she’s achin’ for it. look at that pretty ‘lil throb. so cute.”

“are you gonna fuck me or n—”

“listen, honey,” and you moan at the sudden husky drop of his voice. satoru softly wraps a few fingers around your throat, pressing his slim body right against your own. he drops your wrist, watching you sink into the mattress as limp-like. he’s so close that you could feel the outline of his abs prods against his shirt.

inching his lips near the shell of your earlobe, he starts to pant. heavy, sinister breath that ends up making you throb ten times harder. “i’m gonna fuck you,” he grunts, feeling your ass cutely try to jerk its way against him. the costume part of his pants was lazily pulled down, reaching the low area of his ankles. with a husky sigh, satoru brings his tip near the dripping entrance of your sloppy doused cunt. “might as well fuck that bratitude out of ya too while ‘m at it,” and you moan once he’s slowly starting to sink his way in.

satoru grabs ahold of your torso, lifting you slightly to a certain degree. your ass was raised just a few meters with your face smushed against the satiny made bedsheets.

his eyes dart down your body for another time and now, he’s just openly gawking at your exposed skin - your gorgeous physique.

satoru could stare at you all day if he could. “f- fuh—fuck,” you croak, plump lips forming into a hoop-like ‘o’ the moment he’s easing his way inside. there goes his ridiculous girth again, there goes his fat length that never fails to rearrange your clingy needy insides.

your tummy dips from each inch that’s gradually disappearing inside of you like a never-before-seen magic trick until he’s starting to gruffly groan. satoru’s already breaking a frigidly cold sweat.

it was just him feeling your covetous wet cunt voluntarily swallow him up - squeezing him tightly like a vice until you wring him dry. your pussy’s holding him hostage, and with the tight firm grasp you had against him, you never wanted to let go. “ ‘toruuu, ‘s fuckin’ big.”

“allll for you,” he drags out his words through raspy breathy sentences. chalky white brows of his compress together as he’s starting to feel the brief twinge of pleasure that courses through his beefy clenched thighs. with hooded cunt-drunk eyes, satoru already heard your gargling pussy trying to get more bratty words in. “all. for. you,”

and he punctuated his words just like he punctuated his merciless, sloppy thrusts.

the first thrust was rigid, the second thrust was sensual, and the third was damn near powerful. .

you moan loudly, feeling him caress tender circles near the exposed nape of your neck with his thumb as he tries to start up a sufficient pace. it took him a moment before he was fully in, making sure you felt and remembered every single inch.

satoru expands through your cunt like a domain.. the more carnal lewd way though.

it makes you shiver, and with his weight pressing into your ass that was your last fucking straw.

satoru’s got you in prone bone - a position like doggy but better, and he’s got his chiseled hips just barely hovering over your ass. with pounds and pounds of skin against skin—each smack against flesh had your mind going for a whirl ride.

you were already surrounded by his sweltering warmth from the inside and the feeling alone was enough to make your mouth water.

heavy airy pants drew out from your full lungs like you were some sort of animal, then again—it’s satoru gojo, and his dick was just one of a fuckin’ kind..

his cock was heavy, driving through your cunt like it’s been ages, and it kinda has.

with a hypnotic pivot of his askew hips, satoru makes you arch just a bit further. it’s a pretty arch, and he skips a few fingers down your curling spine. he watches you trying to wriggle away but with a cocky, “ah ah. where ya goin'?” he reels you right back into him. he’s so thick, and he only imagined how pretty you looked with your eyes lulling toward the back of your skull. “aw, don’t get shy on me now, sweetheart,” he purrs lowly, and you moan once he gives your ass a rude spank. “wanna hear my wife’s pretty voice. y’r sloppy pussy’s nice but i wanna—ngh, hear you.”

“ex-wife,” you correct him again, and you know he’s just addressing you as that just to tease you. you start to whimper as his rhythm starts to pick up, ploddingly dragging his keen hips further and further into you. “hnghh. stupid-,” you blurb out another weak squalling whimper, gluey lips starting to stick together.

you almost forgot how mean his dick game was, and satoru knew how to fuck.

he had the type of dick where it’d make you question your life choices—so good, each curve of his hips had you getting more and more stupid.

you’re pronounced cock drunk within milliseconds, and it doesn’t even take you long before your eyes were as wide as saucers, tongue lolled, and your back arches to its very limit.

and his stamina . . oh,

it never changed once he aged—he had the stamina of a fucking stallion, and his hips proved the horsepower to back it up.

“whaaat’s that?” satoru chirps, adding a bit more pressure around your throat. it’s safe - but you let off a tiny crooning moan once his strokes become deeper. you feel him reach at unimaginable angles, and your eyes start to roll back again.

satoru’s got you right where he wants, in his bed, the bed that used to be shared between you both.

he’s amping up his delirious pace, striking his feral hips into you quicker before groaning against your ear. in a hoarse tone, he licks a stripe down your neck. “such a brat, bet you don’t slut this pretty pussy out for anyone else, huh?”

you moan, feeling him breathe down your neck. cloudy hot puffs of air aerate against your skin before satoru starts to suck against your shoulder. “mmh. maybe i do. ‘s none of your business.”

“oh girl, please,” satoru replies, and his sass was enough to make your thighs quake.

you still couldn’t get used to his size - the fat fucking size of his cock that nearly makes both of your thighs clamp shut.

the shirt part of his costume snags against your skin as he’s still fucking you raw, buried balls fuckin’ deep before satoru starts to slow down.

with a wet ‘plop!’ he grunts, feeling his dick slip right out of you. “fuuck,” and he takes a moment to stare at the sight underneath him.

you, his pretty ex-wife all arched and hunched over.

your pussy’s pitifully drooling for more - sniveling wetly from the sheeny flaps as you clench around the air for a few seconds.

as a soft needy moan leaves you, you whine out an inaudible noise that sounds almost like you’re saying ‘what happened?’

“so . . fuckin’ hot,” satoru groans, re-aligning himself back against your slick-flooded entrance.

he heard your melodic ‘oooh’ leave from your lips as he was back inside, a content sigh departing from his chest. satoru can’t help but lean himself against you, bringing his hands toward your bouncy tits. “ah, can’t forget about my favorite girls,” and you let off a plethora of whiney whimpers, feeling him drag his thumbs over your sensitive nipples. satoru’s hips start to get sloppy and his cock’s just lazily swerving its way through every filthy orifice. “so pretty ‘n plump. . all mine.”

satoru continues to fondle your breasts as he’s ruthlessly pounding into you, swinish hands desperate to feel every part of your round soft tits. he’s moaning against your ear right with you, and satoru’s starting to feel himself steadily reach toward his vulgar demise.

his cock’s rude, repeatedly hitting itself against your precious beloved g-spot. it’s smothering it with a multitude of sloppy kisses with his tip, making sure it savors every wet smooch. “fuck, fuck me,” you moan, lying in a puddle of your drool that starts to dampen the pillow that rests underneath your chin.

“greedy ‘lil thing,” satoru huffs, and as he’s still playing with your tits, his pumps start to slow down. satoru’s massaging your walls so good that it’s like he’s putting a wicked spell on your pussy.

you could barely even sit up anymore, and he’s holding your hips firmly. “mmhhh, gettin’ me all soaked, baby. should make you lick me right up.”

“how about you stop talking-”

“how about i edge you ‘n let you finish this sloppy pussy yourself, huh?”

radio silence.

you moaned in response and satoru shook his head with another smarmy sneer squeezing across both corners of his pink lips.

“uh huh. ‘s what i thought,” and satoru groans the moment he feels himself starting to shrink up from the inside.

his testes were nothing but wrung out, plump, and swollen underneath you, pap papping against your ass - preparing to be milked full.

the lewd imagery alone makes him grunt, feeling a vein prod down his shaft. satoru’s abs flex through his shirt before he sighs, bringing a kiss near the back of your neck. “hah, tell me where sweetheart. where do you want it, tell me.”

“fuck,” you moan, losing count of each time his pointed tip thrashes itself against the gummy barrier of your cervix.

satoru lowly chortles, panting heavily before making you lie straight down against the bed. “heh, fuck? that’s not an answer, silly.”

“inside, fuckin’ finish inside, ‘toru,” you blurt out, hearing your voice start to strain.

you’ve been moaning your head off, and your chords were starting to sound like they’ve had just about enough.

“nuh uh, manners sweetheart. don’t act brand new,” he teases, tracing a palm over the curved shape of your perked ass. he was in so deep, you felt the pressure press down on your tummy and it gave birth to an entire school of butterflies. you slip out another moan once satoru’s slowing his impactful thrusts down, still filling you to the brim before bringing his hips to a sudden halt. he’s back up against your ear before he whispers hoarsely, “ ‘pretty pleaseee’, c’mon baby. talk to me nice.”

with a guttural whine desperately trying to rip out the back of your throat, you grumble out a bratty, “fuck you.”

“hah, you’re a trip, y’know that?” and you gasp, feeling satoru snake a hand in between your thighs.

as he drags it down to where it stops near your stuffed pussy, he starts to rub his open palm against you. you moan, arching ever further as your ass presses into him. “it’s ‘fuck me’ ‘n yet you’re bent over for me, wet for me, sloppy for fuckin’ me,” and you felt yourself starting to throb quicker the more he spoke.

within each filthy sentence, his words drip with more erotic bass in his voice—

it’s sexy, and satoru’s feeling you trying to weakly grind your ass back against him so he could finish. it’s cute, the way how you’re so impatient but such a brat.

the woman he always knew - his wife.

“sato—satoruuu,” you mewl out, another whimper flying past your spit-slick lips. the gradual sounds of skin slapping resound against the walls of the spacious bedroom before it echoes. you moan once his cock stills itself inside - waiting for you, and with a defeated moan, you huff, “fine, pretty please.”

“pretty please what, sweetheart?”

he’s annoying, and yet here you were shamefully pulsating for him, arched over for him, and babbling his name over and over again like it’s some repetitive sacred mantra.

with a pouty scoff, you grumble out a subtle, “pretty please . . cum inside, ‘toru. please.”

“atta girl, use those words,” he purrs, and you moan once he gently grabs both of your unsteady hips. satoru braces your body underneath him and he grunts once he focuses back on his release. “god, this tummy,” he rasps, and you whimper once you feel his bare hands creep underneath your warm flat body.

satoru’s body remains on top of you - pounding you ruthlessly, and that’s when he softly presses a hand against your stomach. right there, he feels a tiny bulge of himself and it makes him grunt.

you were squeezing around his cock tight, slathering the entirety of his fat cock with your slimy slick before he groans. “mhm, you’d look so pretty plump ‘n round again for me, baby,” and satoru’s starting to feel it. his body - it shakes, damn near erupting as his high’s approaching at a hasty speed. “prettiest fuckin’ mommy. fuck, ‘m gonna give you so much.”

white lashes of his snap shut as he whines into your shoulder, still pumping thick inches into you from behind—skin slapping meanly and resounding off the walls of the room before he groans out a growling, “fuck!” you’re moaning right with him, his heat radiating against your skin. satoru’s strokes were hypnotic, his hips jerk against your ass as you’re barely keeping up. your insides felt churned all the way out as he still had a hand lying on the center of your tummy, drooling at the thought of filling you up again.

when it arrives, it’s quick - it takes him only a few long drawn-out seconds before he finally lets go. white brows of his twist together as he’s slowly pumping you full of ribbons ‘n ribbons of cum.

pearly slimy globs shoot into you, and you moan out a content sigh of your own as the muscles in your shoulders relax. “fuuuck,” you breathe, hearing satoru’s groans overshadow your noises. he’s always been far louder than you, especially whenever he was finishing.

he sounded pretty, angelic almost. satoru’s eyes flicker down toward the mess that’s being made, hearing the sloppy sounds of your pussy gargle and all.

bubbles of ivory-colored seed coat the outer folds of your entrance and you feel his warmth.

gristly silky ropes dribble into you all at once, creating a milky white ring that starts to form around his base. he’s missed filling you up like this - so so bad.

satoru nearly slips out a whine as he’s dumping his all into you—casually filling you to the brim, and that’s when his hips start to get even sloppier.

he was a mess, and you’ve milked him dry. he watches as your pretty pussy’s all filled and glossed - oozing with such amounts of cum.

a bit of stringy strands started to stick and glue against your thighs like adhesive, and he couldn’t help but pull out. it’s a squishy lewd ‘pop’ that sounds the second he drags his weighty cock out from between your creamy flaps. “god, look at how pretty she is after a good fillin’,” he huffs, and you’re still catching your breath once satoru flips you over. you’re lying on your back, meeting his gaze.

you’ve never seen him more in love - oh, he was whipped.

he didn’t even have to tell you those known words because his eyes already spoke for him. satoru rubs his leaky white-coated tip against your cunt, smearing his cum all over your entrance before sighing. after he does that, satoru licks his lips and that’s when you watch his head starting to disappear, going lower.

“can’t . . let it go to waste,” he grumbles, and you moan the second you feel the tip of his tongue starting to create a slope up your right thigh.

slowly, he’s lapping up the remnants of his cum that’s spilling down your skin. you almost forgot just how filthy he was. satoru had no shame, and he even moaned once the taste of his mess met against his tastebuds. “mmh.”

“s- satoru,” you heave, a hand finding its way through his strands again. his lips were soft, and he then started to create sloppy kisses. you moan, writhing against the stained sheets before gingerly bringing his head back up.

with a sleazy grin, his eyebrows raised before you finish your sentence, tangled fingers still fishing through his snowy unkempt tresses. “kiss me.”

“heh, that’s my girl,” he hoarsely, gradually closing the distance between you both. he’s been longing to kiss you, to plant his lips against yours. satoru groans in your mouth, feeling your arms wrap around his slim waist.

he starts grinding his hips against yours, his angered reddened tip blushing the more cold air sets against it. you’ve never felt more hot, and you could feel a smirk carve against satoru’s lips as he’s making out with you.

it’s intense - his tongue explores throughout your mouth, demanding entry as you moan.

satoru’s sweating pinballs, and he presses his forehead against yours. “fuckin’ woman,” he whispers, his voice getting more and more raspy.

you could taste himself on his tongue and so could he.

it was lewd - and yet, he only wanted more. more of you and so much of it..

satoru leans into your touch, sucking on your tongue as pairs of teeth occasionally clash and smash together before that’s when you abruptly pull away.

“h..hey,” he huffs, and he’s entirely flustered. satoru’s got heart eyes in his pupils, and he’s very much whipped. of course, though, he tries not to show it by keeping up his smug, arrogant façade. “what’s— ah.”

like earlier, you switch positions and push him lightly to where he lands on his back. pretty soon, you were sure trick-or-treating was gonna be over soon for the kids—satoru mentioned earlier how they were staying out for about maybe two hours.

as you straddle his lap again, finally listening to that annoying voice in your head, you made up your mind.

fuck it.

fuck him - literally.

“lie back,” you murmur, and you watch as satoru grows sheepish. you’re getting under his skin, and your sudden change in demeanor makes him hard for what was probably the umpteenth time of the night.

like a dog – he’s obedient, going manspread again before a groan escapes out of him. as your drenched flooded cunt hovers over his tip again, you lean in to pepper chaste kisses near his neck.

“oh, finally gonna ride me now, yeah?” satoru raises a brow, though you could tell how his cockiness was fading. he was sensitive - very.

it was almost painful, and now you were just teasingly grinding the entrance of your cock back ‘n forth against his flaccid length that rests against his tummy. “shit,” he swallows, idly bringing a hand toward your waist. he sees the look in your eyes before dryly chuckling. “f- fine. but this means . . you’ll give me another chance?”

you deadpan, playfully flicking his chest back before humming. “we’ll see.”

“i’ll take it,” satoru pants, trying to flash a smile but he ends up moaning the second you’re starting to align himself against his throbbing tip.

he’s still leaking gleaming white droplets from the sides of his dick, his veiny shaft being decorated with globs and globs of pre. with a guttural groan, satoru’s abs flex through his costume before he grabs your ass, giving your left rear cheek its nth spank.

“do your worst fuckin’ then,” satoru stares up at you, a whine desperately trying to leave his slick-spit lips before he squeezes your ass. as you moan, watching his swollen tip gradually disappear between your sappy folds, gojo sighs.

as your unstable hips try to steady themselves against him, you feel satoru rub the front jeweled part of his wedding ring on your sopping cunt one more time right as you prepare to ride him.

“m- make your husband proud, wifey.”

[blissfali]

i need to complain and be miserable but its gonna involve me dropping my fragile facade of coolness for a moment and i need everyone to be really chill about it and remember how cool and awesome and collected i usually am

[songmingisthighs]

Missing Out

group : ateez

pairing : dilf!mingi × reader

genre : smut

wc : 4.1 k

tw : mdni, explicit smut; daddy kink, teasing, dirty talk, age gap (mingi's like mayhaps at least a decade older, but both are still within legal limits), thigh riding, spitting, alcohol consumption (not to the point of being drunk, it's just for vibes and... spitting lmao),

a/n : frfr i hope he doesn't see this fic because God i would not be able to defend myself. tbh i planned on posting this on mingi's bitthday but i got shit happening to me. shit without my consent and I'm just trying to ride the stress like gandalf hopped up on cocaine riding smaug. so ykw i decided to post this on my birthday instead lmao. special thanks to @kitten4sannie for listening to me drop some ideas while i was on a road trip, i did some adjustments but it's still sexually frustrated dilf!mingi this fic is finally out so i hope you and everyone enjoy it <3

a/n/n : i take no responsibilities for any calf cramp that may or may not happen but alyssa, i still blame you for the great leg cramp at ass o'clock

a/n/n/n : my birthday sucks because it felt more like public service than anything but i got ticket to go to singapore again so i'll be reunited with my little brother and little sisters soon✌️ i'm raising money for my mental wellbeing which is so totally code for i'm trying to find a way to make my shituation better by making myself just the slightest bit happier after today's shenanadoodles

buy me coffee ?

After the day Mingi had, the cold drink in his hand felt like the reward he deserved. It was only then that Mingi realized why people always say that the Family Court is rough. Still, of course, it was extra rough for him because his ex-wife, the horned creature incarnate (a goat, not the devil), had dragged his name through the mud just to get the maximum alimony because she was a narcissistic bum with no life skill to fall back to as if Mingi was the one who told her to quit her job as a dental hygienist when they first got married.

During the mediation meetings and court proceedings, she took all of the potshots she could While no one took her seriously, it still pained Mingi because the more she and her lawyer attacked him, calling out all of his insecurities and questioning his character, the more obvious it was that Mingi had wasted 9 years of his life on this loser and he missed out on all of the marital milestones. The main sore spot was having kids. She argued that putting her body through pregnancy was out of the question because there were risks that could cause her body to look weird in the future and it's inhumane how a woman's body had to contort in such a way to accommodate another living being. But when her breast implant popped when she slammed the car door too hard, it was 'a normal occurrence'.

As much as his friend Yunho told him not to, Mingi couldn't help but wallow in the time he absolutely WASTED on the bitch only to be screwed over. The only good thing that came out of the divorce was the fact that he got out of it without having to pay alimony because his ex-wife had become too cocky with her cards. But still, Mingi had to give her the car, the savings account (that wasn't much compared to anything considering she had drained it to accommodate her filler addiction and alcohol dependency), and Tony Son, their personal trainer, the one thing Mingi could credit her because she had been the one who introduced him to the man who was able to sculpt his body to perfection.

"Is this seat taken?"

Mingi snapped his head to the side to see a woman younger than he, dressed in a tight-bodiced red sparkly dress that showed just enough cleavage for it to be classy rather than trashy and the A-line satin skirt stopped just three fingers width atop her knees. Slowly, Mingi nodded and gestured to the seat on his right side wordlessly. It wasn't until the woman flagged down the bartender and ordered her drink did Mingi questioned why she sat next to him when there were other seats in the bar.

"So, are you alone?" she asked, striking up a conversation with Mingi which honestly caught him by surprise because he had been told that he had a resting bitch face that doubled in intensity when he wasn't in the mood and he was doubling in his bad mood. "Yeah... I am, so..." his words allude to him wanting to be alone, but there was something about the person next to him that intrigued him so much so that his eyes seemed to be glued to her. Just the sight of her drinking her vodka cranberry made Mingi's eyes travel from her face down to her lap, watching the way she moved so gracefully. "So... You don't mind my asking why a man as handsome as you are would be sitting alone with a scowl on his face," she pointed out, forcing Mingi to consciously unfurrow his eyebrows and fake taking a sip of his drink, "I'm not scowling, I'm just tired and pissed off for wasting 9 years on a selfish bitch that deprived me of anything I want in life," he spat venomously, even the slight mention of his ex sent a really unpleasant taste in his mouth. "I'm so sorry to hear that. Anything I can do to help?" She pouted, inching closer to Mingi as somewhat of a signal. Noticing this, Mingi scoffed and shook his head but he still entertained the woman, "Got a time machine to help me undo the past 9 years?" "No, but maybe I can give you what your ex couldn't."

You couldn't help but bite your bottom lip when the look of shock on Mingi's face melted into intrigue. You had been watching him for an hour, sitting all alone, nursing his one drink as he toyed with his ring before chucking it into his breast pocket. Thank God he did because you were not about to approach a potentially spoken-for man. It took you a while to get substantial evidence of his status and it wasn't just because you were distracted by his plump ass in those slacks and the matching suit jacket and slightly unbuttoned black dress shirt didn't help your case.

"Little girl, I think I'm a bit too... Far for your reach," Mingi pointed out, raising an eyebrow at you as he wasn't sure that you knew what you were offering him. Mirroring him, you raised your eyebrow and shifted so that you faced him fully as you raised one leg and cross it over the other, successfully inviting Mingi to get a glimpse of more skin. "You don't know me or what I can do, sir," you smirked challengingly, now openly inviting him to poke you further.

You were delighted when you saw Mingi's jaw clench and throat bob after you called him sir. It was proof to you that Mingi had some sort of inclination of being in control and his little confession about not getting what he wanted from his ex-wife might be a glimpse of the kind of fun you could get from him. So without hesitation, you decided that you were going home with him.

Surprisingly, Mingi responded positively by leaning in to cup your chin and pull you close, just a wispy breath away from having your lips meet and you so desperately wanted to taste his because they just looked so damn juicy and plump. "You don't want to know all the things I've been deprived of... Baby." Your eyes darken and your legs crossed tighter to suppress the sudden arousal washing over your core, excited at the confirmation that Mingi was playing into your games just as you had wanted. All you needed to do was lock this down. So you let your hand lay on his thigh, squeezing it suggestively and enjoying the feeling of his muscle tensing underneath you each time your hand slid closer to his crotch to the point that your nail was scratching the inner side of his thigh just right. Despite being physically affected by you, Mingi still maintained eye-contact, daring you to poke his button just right.

"Yes, I do... Daddy."

In the blink of an eye, Mingi smashed his lips on you and all of the oxygen was knocked out of your lungs in one go. His lips were soft but the way he used them was rough yet calculated. You could taste the smoky whiskey on his tongue as he slipped it inside your mouth. Little did you know, he too, was enjoying the way you tasted. Your lip gloss had a sweetness to it that made him wonder if you're the type to plan things or if it was just a happy coincidence. He also took note of how you allowed him to lead you and the more he asserted himself onto you with every nibble of his lip and every caress of his tongue, showing that you're more on the submissive side and he likes it. A lot. The more you felt pleasure, the more you pleasured him back as evidenced by your hand rubbing against his raging boner.

Mingi smirked at the way you whimpered when he finally pulled away from you to slap a couple bills on the counter before he got off the stool, pulling you along with him. You wobbled slightly but Mingi immediately pulled you flush on his chest and despite having just made out with him, you found the gesture very hot. "Wanna go see if you can keep up with the list of things I missed out on?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Mingi must be some kind of a business owner because no way he would have had a rather impressive office where you found yourself in. Well, on top of him on his couch, grinding your panty-less core against his thigh with your top down, allowing the older man to ogle at your tits as you tried to make yourself cum.

"Is that the best you can do?" Mingi taunted, circling his crystal glass which produced a tinkling sound from the ice in the drink he poured as soon as you reached his home. "Daddy, I want you to touch me," you whined but your hip was still relentlessly moving after making a big deal of how his thighs were so strong and you wanted to sit on them like a throne. So instead of just sitting, Mingi told you to make yourself useful and prep your pussy without his help and he wanted you to do it by riding his thigh. His thick, glorious thigh. "Don't you want to touch me, daddy?" you teased, cupping your boobs and tweaking your own nipples whilst throwing your head back, making a show out of it just to get Mingi to touch you. Sure, Mingi was intrigued, but he knew damn well that he was holding the reigns and he had to hold himself back from jumping at the opportunity to completely ravish you too soon. "I do, baby, but you're being a brat right now and refusing to listen to me. Had I wanted that, I would've stayed with my ex-wife." Your head snapped back up at the mention of his ex-wife and you glared at his smug smirking face, "You have me half naked on your lap and you still mentioned your ex-wife?" you gathered your skirt in your hand, exposing your cunt to Mingi's eyes and slowed your pace to a prolonged drag that left long, dark stain courtesy of your arousal.

Finding your petulance adorable, Mingi chuckled and pulled you in for a searing kiss with one hand cupping your chin and the other slapping you on the ass as if telling you to speed up your movement. "You're an adorable little doll and I'm gonna break you," he muttered against your lips before you could reply to him, Mingi tugged your hair back as he casually took a sip from his drink. The action made you yelp and Mingi swiftly leaned over and spit the drink into your mouth and clamped your jaw shut. "Swallow," he commanded and as you came down from being surprised, you stared into Mingi's eyes. At first, you only stared at him, feigning defiance just for fun and Mingi found that both intriguing and annoying. His grip moved to tightly grasp your jaw and he growled, "Swallow. It." He demanded in a stern voice that made your panties more damp as your cunt clench, leaving you unable to do anything more than whine and swallow the burning liquid. Mingi found you very mesmerizing even on an act as simple as you taking heed of his words. The stray spit and alcohol that trickled from the corners of your lips enhanced the glimmer of your smudged lipstick and lipgloss combo, turning Mingi on with how effortlessly sultry you looked. He was down and he was down bad. He wasn't even sure if he was down because Once the liquid was no longer there, you rolled out your tongue to proudly show your obedience and Mingi let out a shuddered breath seeing you just blindly following his orders like the good puppet you are.

"Fuck, you're gonna be the death of me."

In a flash, Mingi flipped you both around so that you were trapped underneath him with your head strategically on the armrest. The elevation allowed you to watch as Mingi dragged a hand down your body as if you were a work of art. "All this time... I was missing a lot all this time, that bitch took nine years out of me and gave me nothing," Mingi shuddered both in anger and in arousal. The contrasting thoughts between being so angry at his former partner and the excitement of being rewarded by being able to ravish you felt like waves crashing inside him. It was thrilling. It was exciting. It got his adrenaline pumping and God, he felt alive. "Poor baby," you purred all the while slowly popping the buttons of his dress shirt off to reveal the soft skin underneath, "You're so frustrated, It's a good thing I'm here now huh?"

You swung your leg up and used the tip of your toe to tilt Mingi's chin upwards maintaining a somewhat neutral expression but the twinkle in your eyes indicated clear intrigue. "Tell me all the things you want to do. What do you want most?" the question made Mingi roll his eyes back and he grabbed your leg by your ankle. "You nasty slut, you want to have an older cock so bad you're enticing me with empty promises, huh?" He mumbled against the skin of your leg, trailing his lips down from the heel and lower to your calf as his body followed down until he eventually stopped at the mid-section of your inner thigh. You helped him by flipping your skirt up, exposing your cunt wholly to him and slotting the leg you lifted on his shoulder, "Empty promises? I want to give you whatever you want daddy, and in order for me to be able to do that, I need to know what it is."

Thinking that he had nothing to lose anyway, Mingi smirked and decided to test you. "I want a baby," he stated, "I want to put my baby in you," he said oh so casually as if he hadn't had his fingers poking and prodding your cunt like they just belonged there. Truthfully speaking, Mingi was expecting you to push him off and ran away screaming because what kind of a hookup just casually dropped a bomb as big as he did?

But it seemed like Mingi's luck was turning around for the better because you replied by reaching forward to free his cock from his pants, trying as best as you could to suppress the surprise at Mingi's size (but failing as evidenced by the way your eyes bulged slightly and your tongue peeking out to lick your bottom lip in hunger) before you leaned back and opened your legs widely as an invitation for him. "Then do it, fuck me so hard and dumb and deep that I'd have no other choice but to have your baby," you smiled up at him. Mingi could only stare at you in shock initially, not really knowing what you meant until you whined and pulled him closer using the leg that was hooked on his shoulder. "Daddy, don't make me wait too long. Come on, put a baby in me!" you pleaded, cunt throbbing with eagerness to feel Mingi's cock stretching you now that you already caught a glimpse.

The shock melted away from Mingi's face and even as he was guiding his cock to your core, he was still carefully watching your face, not wanting to waste any twitch or shift in your face from feeling him but also he was trying to be careful in case you showed him any indication of regret or if you changed your mind. But the way you whined and rolled your hips so your wet cunt could meet his cock more gave him the green light.

"You dirty slut," Mingi grunted before he shoved his length inside you in one fluid movement. The accumulating arousal from you riding his thigh provided proper lubrication but his sheer size was not something you're used to so your body tensed up at the impact. "F-fuck, daddy, y-you-" "Am I tearing you apart, baby? Are you being split into two on daddy's fat cock?" he asked in faux worry that was just him being condescending towards you. But you don't care, you found it hot even when he talked down to you as if you were nothing but his plaything. "Yes, yes, daddy, I'm being split open on your cock but I love it! I love it so much!" you moaned, hands clawing at his skin, causing red streaks to appear from the pressure of your nails, "Fuck, I want more!"

With that, Mingi pushed your legs up by your thighs, exposing more of your lower half to him. "Be daddy's good girl and hold these open, I wanna see your pussy taking my cock raw," he hissed, eyes zeroing on the way your puffy lips split open to accommodate his size. Carefully, as if assessing a great piece of art, Mingi watched attentively The view almost brought tears to his eyes but he channeled the somewhat endearing moment into fucking you stupid into the mattress.

Each drag of Mingi's cock felt like fire against your inner walls. Although there was a slight discomfort with each movement, the added pleasure of being filled like you had never before made you addicted.

If you thought you were enjoying yourself, Mingi was very close to combusting and he was trying his best to not cum too soon as he didn't wanna be branded as the geezer who came too early. But he couldn't help it, not with the way both his ego and his cock were stroked. It was as if you were made for him and he felt that the moment he entered your sopping cunt. So Mingi shifted his focus to you instead, working to get you to cum first.

"Come on baby, cum for daddy. I need you to cum first so you'd be ripe and open for me to fill you up," Mingi huffed, pressing his pointy nose against the junction of your neck that sent tingles down your spine, "We need to do our best to make sure that you'd be good and pregnant, right?" The weight of his words caused your head to spin as the thought of him filling you full for his own pleasure filled your mind. "Yes, yes daddy, make me cum please," you whined into his ears, your body reacting almost automatically by rolling your hips against his own to match his speed and desire. Mingi growled hungrily and his pace quickened significantly as the impact got harder. You were sure that after this your ass would be different shades of red and blue but you couldn't care less. Especially if Mingi wanted to do more rounds with you, you'd gladly wear the bruises like a badge of honor.

"Fuck, you're so hot like this, you're so hot when you're willing and submissive for me," Mingi grunted, even verging on whining into your ears because you just felt so good to him but he held firm, "Are you close, baby? Are you cumming soon?" Lucky for him, you nodded hurriedly, confirming that you were close. Your brain had been marinating in the dizzying arousal that it was embarrassingly quick for you to nearly reach your climax in a rather short time. However, your response was deemed lacking to Mingi who wanted to hear a verbal response from you. Mingi was quick to slap you hard on your left tit as a punishment, feeling the need to chastise you for simplifying your response.

The words died on Mingi's tongue and his hips sharply halted to a stop when he saw you yelp and shudder before coming completely undone underneath him, writhing pathetically as your nails grazed his skin, leaving red streaks for Mingi to show off for days on end. His eyes darken when he saw tears pooled in your own eyes before dropping, creating the illusion of your eyes sparkling which served a rather complex combination of innocence and sinful. "M-M- Daddy," you whimpered in almost a hushed tone, barely comprehensible but to Mingi the sound was thunderous in Mingi's ears, ringing, because his baby girl needed him. His baby girl wanted him. His baby girl who's willing to give him anything he could ask for was longing for him. So who is he to deny you?

Seeing you in such a vulnerable state seemed to unlock something primal in Mingi because while you were reeling down from your orgasm, Mingi was instead put into some sort of a trance. His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip, slightly hoping that he could taste your sweetness in the air, and his hips restarted with a pace so hard and quick, for a moment you forgot that Mingi was a human.

The pleasure from your orgasm tripled with the additional friction continuously given by Mingi whose head was flooded with the thought of truly possibly getting you pregnant from this first time. Not that he was planning on only fucking you once, not after he felt how good you made him feel both emotionally and physically. He was planning to pamper you to death and maybe that was the sexually frustrated side in him but he didn't care, he didn't care how crazy he was because you were the one who made him crazy.

The sound of hips snapping together in a rhythm accompanied by your drunk-like moans sounded like a symphony in Mingi's ears. "F-fuck baby, I'm gonna fill you up now," Mingi grunted, his eyes closing and his forehead dropping to your shoulder, "I'm gonna fill you up with my seed to the brim and you're gonna be a good girl and keep it all in so my baby can grow safely inside of you, okay?" He whispered so intimately against your shoulder that both your lips and cunt wept. You wouldn't be surprised if there was a pool underneath you after you were done and you won't hesitate to ask for more. "Cum, daddy. Cum inside me. Fill me up so hard and full like you promised me!" You whined, your hands snaking around his shoulders to hold tight as the overstimulation caused a tingling pain that made your toes curl while Mingi was getting such a high from his ego being fed.

"Fuck, baby girl, this is it, I'm gonna put my baby in you!" Mingi grunted and thrusted, once, twice, thrice, before his hips stuttered and you felt a gush of warmth spilling deep inside your cunt. The physical feeling of being filled up made your eyes roll into your head and the realization of what just happened made you blush as if you weren't whoring for his cock not 10 minutes ago.

As Mingi slowly came down from his high, his mind cleared up and he was able to pepper kisses from your shoulders, up your neck, along your jawline, and then gently all over your face. The contrast of the sweetness of the older man and the nasty act you both just did made you suddenly turn all giggly and shy. "Aww, come on, are you trying to get away from me?" Mingi smirked, trying to chase another kiss from your lips but you kept dodging him, "That's pretty absurd considering I still have my cock inside of you, plugging you full." Your eyes widened at the vulgarity of his chosen words and you couldn't help but smack him on the shoulder but fail to hold back a giggle, "Don't say it like that!" "Like what? Like the way it is?" Mingi teased, pushing himself up to trail a finger on your stomach which made your breath hitch and your muscle to tense, "I need to make sure you really do get pregnant so you can give me my baby just like I wanted," his voice trailed as his fingers drew patterns on your skin almost lovingly and the nonsensical side of you wanted to believe that he was showing his affection to you. You figured that there was only one way to find out.

Without missing a beat, you took his finger that was tracing your skin into your mouth and start licking around as if it was a lollipop, effectively causing Mingi's attention to shift to your face and his cock to twitch inside you. "Who said we're only gonna try this once, daddy? You're gonna fuck me as much as you like until I'm good and pregnant."

The smirk that bloomed on Mingi's face was devilish and almost menacing, showing his genuine intention to get wamhat he wanted.

"I hope you'd never ask. I'm gonna fuck you all night long and you're gonna be a good girl and take it all with no complaint."

As if you'd say no.

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[hiding-in-my-blanket-fort]

.

[arieslost]

cinnamon whiskey | ln4

lando norris x fem!writer!reader

summary: you meet a famous race car driver in one of the last places you’d expect— the adirondacks.

word count: 4,578

warnings: drinking, minor injuries (small description of bruising)

masterlist — join my tag list here!

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

Your editor was going to kill you.

Every day brought you closer to the deadline for your manuscript, and every day you could hardly help yourself out in getting to your self-imposed goal of 1,000 words. It wasn’t a difficult feat; you’d done it before, and you didn’t have anything else to be doing. You had absolutely zero distractions: it was just you, your notebook, and your computer. There was only one problem.

The words just weren’t coming to you, and you’d already gotten a two week extension on the deadline. It felt like all your writing abilities had been rescinded.

“I’m screwed.” You professed to your best friend, falling into a pathetic heap on her couch. You needed a serious pick-me-up after struggling to write a measly paragraph, and she had readily offered a girls night.

“I think you’re being a little dramatic. Scoot over.” She replied, shoving your legs out of the way so she could sit. “Maybe you just need to get out of your house.”

“And go where? I can’t just pack up and take a vacation right now.” You grumbled into the couch cushion.

“Why don’t you go upstate?” She suggested after a moment of silence.

“Upstate?” You repeated.

“Yeah, go to the Adirondacks. My dad owns a house up there, remember? We had a blast the last time we were there.”

You and your best friend had gone up to the Adirondacks when you graduated college, and you always prefaced the retelling of it with, “It was one of the best weeks of my life.” You almost felt silly for not thinking of doing something like that in the first place.

“It might be a good idea… Do you think your dad would be okay with me staying there?”

Your best friend laughed. “Yes, you idiot. He’s let me stay there by myself, he’ll definitely let you.”

A mere 24 hours went by, and you were settled in a cozy cabin in the Adirondacks with the desperate hope of having the rest of your manuscript ready by the end of your stay. Otherwise, you might as well just fire yourself and save your editor some time.

It wasn’t the only cabin in the area– it was more like a very small community made up of six houses built exactly the same. The area was usually used by people with a decent amount of cash lining their pockets, so you were extra grateful to your best friend’s father. He had taken one look at the dejection on your face when your best friend had mentioned her grand idea, and simply handed you the keys with the promise that your stay would be free of charge.

You did feel a little out of place, though– you could have sworn one of your neighbors was in a movie you’d just watched, and another one was just so ridiculously attractive there was no way he wasn’t famous for something. You’d seen him out on his front porch when you arrived, and had to force yourself not to stare or salivate over his bare torso.

The change of scenery around you helped tremendously. At first. You always felt refreshed when you went somewhere new, particularly if it was somewhere you felt more connected to nature. You had gotten into the habit of taking walks to calm yourself when you got frustrated, and having new sights was definitely an exciting prospect for when you inevitably slammed your computer shut and stormed out the door like you just did a few moments ago.

You’ll be the first to admit it: the story just isn’t coming together. Your main character has a goal, a purpose, but she is entirely lacking any kind of driving force to get where she needs to go.

She has no motivation.

You can appreciate irony, but there’s nothing funny about it right now.

The dirt and leaves crunch under your feet as you walk down the first trail that you see. It branches off from the main path that runs between all of the houses: yours, the attractive guy’s, and one other, and then the suspected movie star’s and the other two on the other side. Right now, you just want to see nothing but the path before you, the trees in your peripheral vision, the gentle summer breeze in your hair, and maybe a chipmunk or a squirrel here and there.

But, of course, you can’t even have that. You’re alone with your thoughts for all of two seconds before you hear a crash off to your left that sends a few birds flying. You would have ignored it if not for the groan that immediately followed.

“Um… hello?” You call out, doubling back to try and see just what the hell had happened.

If you were in a horror movie, this would most certainly be your death scene.

“Ah…” It’s definitely a man, and he definitely sounds like he’s in pain.

“Are you okay?” You step off the path, getting closer to where the noise had come from.

That’s where you find him— your insanely attractive neighbor, practically in the fetal position, entirely focused on the camera in his hand. His jaw is clenched, whether in pain or concern for the camera, you don’t know. You just know he has a sharp jawline, long eyelashes, and curly hair.

Ugh, you could cry because he’s so good looking.

He looks up at you, eyes meeting yours, and he has the decency to look embarrassed.

“What the hell just happened to you?”

“I, um… I fell out of that tree.” He confesses, pointing to a branch, not too high up, but now dangling in half.

“And you were in the tree because…” You trail off, gesturing for him to explain further.

“Right, well, I was taking pictures and had an idea for a good one from a higher vantage point, so I climbed the tree. Thought I had a good balance, but—” He winces as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. “I didn’t.”

“No kidding. You’re lucky you didn’t break anything.” You marvel, hands held out in front of you just in case he falls over when he starts standing up.

“I’m not too sure about that.” He huffs out a pained laugh.

“You wouldn’t have been able to stand up so easily if you had, and your wrist and shoulder look fine.” You point out. “I have no doubt that you bruised your side up pretty badly though.”

“Yeah? How would you know?” He leans against the tree he just fell out of, his miraculously unbroken camera hanging from the strap around his neck.

“I’m a writer. I’m like a black hole of useless information.”

“I don’t think it’s useless anymore.” He takes a step forward and his face immediately contorts into a grimace. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Well, you’ve already asked so much of me, but if you really have to, then sure.” You tease, and he laughs again.

“I’m probably going to need some help getting back to the house,” he begins, and then continues after taking in the surprised look on your face. “But you don’t have to. I can just crawl or something. Maybe I’ll get lucky and make it back before nightfall.”

Not just attractive, but funny too? You might as well make the most out of these two weeks and use whatever you can to help you finish that dreaded manuscript. Besides, the only other person you’ve ever met who can hold a torch to your sense of humor is your best friend. This has to be a sign of some sort.

“Alright, but at least tell me your name first.”

His name is Lando, you’ve known him for an hour, and you think you’re in love with him.

Sure, you’re frustrated that he completely ruined the solitude that you craved, but the ice maker in his house is broken and he desperately needs some for the bruise that you know is darkening by the second underneath his t-shirt. So he’s sprawled out on your couch, and you’re in the kitchen collecting ice cubes to wrap up in a hand towel.

“Alright, lift your shirt up,” you instruct, walking into the living room and taking a seat beside him.

“I usually take a girl out before I let her see me half naked.”

“But it’s okay if everyone else sees you out on your porch half naked?”

“You were looking?” He tilts his head down a little and raises his eyebrows. “Liked what you saw, did you?”

You blush. “Just shut up and lift your shirt.”

He hums a little to himself as he pulls his shirt up, revealing the beginnings of a bruise on his tan skin that is already swollen and definitely going to get worse over the next couple of days. It looks like it continues below the waistband of his boxers, but you’re not about to tell him to pull his pants down.

“That’s ugly.”

“I’ve had worse.” He shrugs, biting his lip when you gently rest the makeshift ice pack against his side.

“You have a habit of falling out of trees?”

“I have a habit of being in potentially life-threatening situations. It’s kinda part of my job.” He says it like he’s waiting for you to figure something out, waiting for something to click.

You take a moment to just look at him again. His fluffy curls, his infuriatingly handsome face, his thick neck, his toned stomach. And then something you’ve heard your best friend say a million times echoes in your head.

I bet every F1 driver’s contract has a clause that says they have to be hot in order to get in. I mean, you have Daniel Ricciardo, Charles Leclerc, and don’t even get me started on–

“Oh my God. Lando Norris?” You exclaim, almost jumping up from shock but stopping yourself so you don’t jostle him. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“I thought you knew!”

You glare at him. “Cocky much?”

“Well, what did you think when I told you my name?” He asks defensively.

“I don’t know, I thought your parents really liked Star Wars or something.”

He scoffs at this and smacks your hand away, holding the ice himself. “That’s real creative.”

“I’m sorry! My best friend is really into Formula One, but the most I’ve seen is bits and pieces of a race. I’ve never seen you, y’know, not in your car.” You feel like your eyes are practically bugging out of your head. “Wow, this is insane.” You knew he was too good looking to not be famous.

“Want me to sign something for you?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“I will punch you right in your bruise.”

He stays for a couple more hours, readily enduring your endless stream of questions that follow your revelation of him being a Formula One driver, only getting a reprieve when the ice melts and you have to go get more.

He compensates for recounting his entire journey to Formula One by asking you his own questions the moment he’s done. You tell him more about how you became a writer– how you got your bachelor’s degree, got out into the world, and realized you had no clue what you wanted to do with your life, so you took a retail job. It paid a dollar above minimum wage, but it was worth it when something you heard a customer say once inspired you to craft a narrative that your editor liked enough to pick it up. She’d taken a gamble on you; you were her fourth client and the book wasn’t finished yet.

“So that’s why I’m out here,” you pause to catch your breath. “I need to have the manuscript done two weeks from yesterday, and I wasn’t getting anything done at home.”

“Needed a change of scenery.” Lando nods, like he can read your mind.

“Exactly.” You say quietly, suddenly feeling a bit self conscious under his intense gaze but refusing to look away.

The energy in the room shifts as the two of you look at each other, and you break the sudden eye contact when you take note of the fact that it’s dark out.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave,” he breaks the silence, pulling his shirt back down and letting out a quiet groan as he gets up. “I’ll see you tomorrow? There’s no way someone will be able to get up here to fix my ice machine by the morning.”

You blink at him a couple times, still trying to wrap your mind around the fact that you just spent hours talking with Lando Norris, all because he fell out of a tree. You didn’t even offer to make him dinner or anything, and he’s making plans to do this all over again.

You still haven’t spoken, so he waves his hand in front of your face. “Oh! Yeah, of course. Be careful, okay?”

He gives you an obnoxious salute. “I’ll try to survive the 50 steps it takes to get to my place from here.”

You go running for your laptop and start writing as soon as he’s gone.

He’s at your door in the morning, and spends the whole day with you. Then the next, and the next, and the next thing you know, you only have four days left in your best friend’s dad’s house and it feels like you and Lando have known each other your entire lives. He isn’t able to do much in terms of physical activity, and when he trips over a root after insisting he’s fine you make the executive decision to go back to your house.

“Make some room, would you?” You sigh, looking for a place to sit thanks to the fact that he’s taking up the entire couch.

He simply lifts his head up.

“You’re joking, right?”

“I’m in pain. Don’t you want me to be comfortable?” He pouts at you.

“You’re insufferable, and a liar.” All the same, you sit down, and he rests his head in your lap.

He ignores you, eyes closed with a satisfied little smile on his face.

For his antics, you decide to disturb his newfound peace by putting the ice pack directly on his face and laugh when he bats it away.

“That’s just mean,” he whines, pressing his lips together when you put the ice on his bruise.

It’s mostly yellow and green now, like a weird rendition of Van Gogh’s Starry Night. Lando had made a game out of poking it two nights ago that ended just as quickly when he poked himself too hard and blamed you for it when you had been in the middle of telling him not to. After that, he hadn’t touched it, and now it looks a lot better. The ice probably isn’t needed anymore, but you’d prefer to err on the side of caution.

“You’ll live,” you say now, patting the top of his head to distract him from the discomfort.

“The last time I had a bruise this bad was when I crashed in Vegas last year.” He says, blinking up at the ceiling. “Took a while to go away.”

“I think I remember hearing about that. You crashed pretty early, no?”

“Yup. Barely got to race.” The sentences come out very clipped, like he’s still upset about it.

“It was a bad crash, huh?”

“Pretty bad.” You don’t have anything to say in response to that, so you start brushing your fingers through his curls. He relaxes instantaneously.

He almost falls asleep with his head in your lap, and that’s when you can’t take it anymore and have to kick him out. He’s almost to the last step when he stops and turns back, making direct eye contact with you.

“Y’know, it’s too bad you weren’t there when I crashed.” He gives you a soft smile. “You’re pretty good at taking care of me.”

Well, shit.

There’s a bottle of cinnamon whiskey sitting in one of the kitchen cabinets that you’ve been waiting for an excuse to open. You should drink it now when you’re thinking about him, but you decide to wait until you see him again.

You open your laptop and write until you fall asleep.

By the time you let him in the next morning, you’re stumped again. You only slept for a few hours and expected to get right back into your groove the moment you woke up, but when you read over what you wrote last night, your brain just refused to comprehend it. It feels like you’re back to square one, but you can’t be too upset about it when Lando makes his way through the door. He doesn’t mention anything about ice like he usually does, which makes you equally happy and disappointed. Happy that he’s feeling good enough to forego the ice, disappointed because that means that there’s really no reason for him to come over anymore.

But if there’s one thing you can expect from him, it’s his spontaneity.

“We should go out tonight.”

“And where exactly would we be going?” You ask, watching him kick back on the couch like he’s the one that lives here.

“I dunno, just outside, I guess. You like stargazing?”

“I love it.” You reply enthusiastically. “I bet the stars are gorgeous out here. I’ve been cooped up every night, I haven’t had the chance to see them.”

“It’s settled then. Cancel your plans, you’re all mine tonight.”

“I didn’t— never mind.” You silently will away the flush creeping up your neck. “Actually, I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Shoot.”

“How’d those pictures come out? The ones you were trying to take when you fell?” You lean over the back of the couch in order to actually see him as you’re talking to him.

“That was two questions.” He laughs when you smack his shoulder. “I got a couple action shots as I was falling. They’re terrible, but I’m thinking about keeping them for the memories. Fun story for the kids, don’t you think?”

“Sure.” The kids?! You’re definitely breaking out the whiskey tonight. It’s the first (and only) thing you grab when he goes back to his place to get a blanket.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” You ask the moment the two of you step onto the trail, and he puts a hand over his heart.

“Your concern for me is adorable.”

“I’m only asking because you almost ate shit last time.” You burst out laughing at the immediate change in his expression.

He ends up leading the way for a mile or two before you reach a clearing that you would’ve discovered had he not fallen out of the tree.

“This is beautiful,” you muse, taking in your surroundings as Lando lays the blanket on the ground.

The sun is just about set, a light breeze passing through; a few different wildflowers are waving throughout the clearing. You look around and can’t see any sign of civilization. While that should make you nervous, since you’re with a guy you’ve only known for less than two weeks, it instead makes you relax. You forget entirely about your computer waiting for you back at the house and busy yourself with getting the top off the whiskey bottle.

“Found it the second day I was here. I’ll have to show you the pictures I got once I upload them all.” Lando says, furrowing his eyebrows as you struggle with your task. “Need some help there?”

“Be my guest,” you hand it over and have to force yourself to remain calm when he pops the top off like it was nothing.

“Ladies first,” he hands it back.

With pleasure, you think to yourself. Maybe getting drunk will help you stop acting like a schoolgirl. You take a generous drink, squeezing your eyes shut and breathing out slowly. “That is strong.”

“Hand it over.” He lets out a low whistle as soon as he swallows and returns it to you. “Wow.”

“I actually had a dream like this once,” you say, wincing at the burn of the whiskey as it slides down your throat. “I was just laying there, staring at the stars, with no worries. It was so peaceful.”

Lando takes the bottle from your outstretched hand. “I don’t dream.”

“What?!” The high pitch of your voice slices through the night. “Are you serious?”

“Yup.” He takes a long sip from the bottle before placing it down in the space between you. “Never have.”

“That’s- that’s crazy.” You shake your head.

“I’d think it’s nicer that way, no?” he counters. “I probably sleep better than you.”

“I mean, I guess. But then you don’t have any crazy dreams to share.”

“You always remember your dreams?”

Now, you blush. You’re not sure why you’re embarrassed. “I, um… I keep a journal.”

Lando’s eyes widen. “No way.”

“I have dreams written down all the way back to 2015.” You confess, reaching for the bottle again.

He starts laughing, like he thinks you’re joking.

“I’m serious!” You exclaim, shoving his shoulder. “In my defense, I’ve actually come up with some ideas from my dreams. Fat lot of good they’re doing for me right now, but…”

Lando hums, eyes skimming over your now crestfallen expression. He passes the bottle back.

“Thanks,” you mumble, tilting the bottle up to your lips.

“I’m sure you’ll find some type of inspiration while we’re out here.”

“I only have two days left, Lan.”

He gestures for you to pass the bottle back, and you do. You watch as he takes a sip, looking from his lips, to his jaw, to his neck, to his Adam’s apple that bobs as he swallows. You’re really going to miss this view. He lets out a quiet hiss. “Damn, that’s strong whiskey.”

“I told you.”

There’s a lull in the conversation, and then he speaks again. “My ice machine got fixed.”

“That’s—”

“Last week.” He cuts you off, doing that stupid thing he does where he stares directly into your eyes.

Your heart is in your throat, and your voice is small when you reply. “Okay…”

“And I was supposed to leave three days ago.”

Now your jaw drops. “Why… Why are you still here?”

“Because you’re still here.” He answers evenly, the alcohol clearly working in his favor. “I initially came here for the same reason as you– needed a change of scenery. It’s summer break right now, and my friend Logan told me it was super nice up here. It is, but then I had my little mishap and… it’s been a lot better since you showed up. So I decided to stay a little longer.”

He’s close to you now, so close you can smell the whiskey on his breath, so you say the only thing you can think to say. “I can’t believe you fell out of a tree.”

“I can’t believe you took care of me this whole time.” He brushes your hair out of your face, and his fingers linger on your cheek.

Your internal giddiness rises when you realize he’s actually about to kiss you. Your stomach is doing Olympic level gymnastics and you don’t trust yourself to speak, so you let the whiskey do it for you: you kiss him first.

You can’t remember the last time you kissed anyone, but the moment he pulls you on top of him you know that you won’t ever forget kissing him.

“Lan…” you break away from him to catch your breath, smoothing his curls back from his forehead. You can just see the glint in his eyes as he stares up at you, and it’s borderline painful knowing that you only get to enjoy this view for two more days.

You don’t remember what you were going to say to him. It’s way too soon for “I love you,” and not the right time to say “I already miss you.” You still want to say both.

Like he can hear your inner turmoil, he silences it by touching his forehead to yours. “Kiss me again, please,” he whispers.

You don’t waste a second in giving him what he wants, wanting nothing more in this moment than to feel his lips against yours again. You’re careful to avoid his side as he lays back on the blanket, keeping a firm grip on your hips so you don’t go anywhere. You try to convey everything you want to say into the kiss: I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. I know I’m going to miss you. Please don’t let me go.

He holds you closer and gently slips his tongue into your mouth, and you melt into him, knowing the whole while that Lando Norris has effectively ruined all other men for you.

Six Months Later.

Your phone is ringing in the other room as you’re in the middle of recounting the kiss to your best friend for the millionth time.

“Sorry, I’ll be right back,” you apologize. “It might be important.”

Thinking it’s your editor, because who else would call you at this late hour, you don’t look at the caller ID before you answer. “Hi, listen, I wanted to talk to you about—”

“The love interest falls out of a tree, huh?”

Your mouth falls open. “Lando?”

“That would be me. Or should I change my name to Darren?”

You roll your eyes, unable to stop yourself from smiling. “I thought you were never going to call me.”

You’d finished your manuscript the day before you went home. He’d been sleeping right next to you as you wrote the final words, and you should’ve brought it up that morning. Instead, you left your number on his porch the day you left, too deep in overthinking mode to actually face him and properly say goodbye. You truly didn’t expect him to call you after that act of such cowardice, especially after the two of you spent almost the entirety of your last days together at various levels of undress.

“I really wanted to,” he admits. “At least ten different times. I think Oscar might have assaulted me if I chickened out this time.”

“Yeah, because you won’t shut the hell up about her!” A voice in the background exclaims, and you hear something go flying.

“Get out!” Lando snaps, and you can hear Oscar’s laughter fading.

“Sweet of you to subject him to hearing all about me.”

“Come to the race at Silverstone.” He says before you can even finish your sentence. “I’ll pay for the flight, the hotel, everything. Just come.”

You feel like the floor just fell out from under your feet. “Lan—”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” It’s said in a nearly unintelligible whisper, but his tone changes so suddenly you have to sit down.

“I can’t stop thinking about you either.” You confess. “That’s… kind of why I wrote you into my book.”

“Please, come to Silverstone,” he repeats, practically begging. “Come be with me.”

And when he finds you in the crowd after taking the win at his home race, and he wastes no time in wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his lips to yours for everyone to see, you’re immediately taken back to those two weeks you spent in the Adirondacks, where you finally found the inspiration you’d been missing your entire life.

note: this one goes out to my fellow writers who desperately wish their inspiration would fall out of a tree— writer’s block will never defeat us.

this got a little long, so if you’re reading this, thank you thank you thank you.

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are always appreciated <33

beautiful dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @anathedivine @xfuckoffx @architect-2015 @violetiss3lfish @havaneselover08 @paigeworlds @whatever7justchillin @xoredmoonlightxo @dovieloovie @totowolffstablexoxo @maddie-bell @lalisgs11 @rrrraaaalllluuuu @formulasportworld @madisonbidaddy @anedpev @estherapz-blog @jess-wither @loveyatopluto @athena-artemis-dorian-gray @lou-larcher5 @clearlyabi @fizzpopsnap101 @fluerlaurent @mcmuppet @positiveaspirations @notturlover @crazymofo-96 @chanthereader @apollo-axolotl

[g0dlyunsub]

hii!! loved what u wrote for my orher request - i have another one - could you write abt the reader doing his slicked back hair that he has at the end of season 1? she wanted to play around w the bob-ish hair and use gel, which he was reluctant to at first but he has a soft spot for her so let’s her do the prince charming hair

adore you.

spencer doesn’t know if he wants you to style his hair, but you know the perfect way to convince him.

pairing :: spencer x fem!reader

warnings :: established relationship, fluff

word count :: 1k

author's note :: thank you for being so patient with this request <3 enjoy this fluffy little piece before i burrow myself away in more angst :0

accompanying song :: when you wash your hair by matt maltese

“wake up, i miss you.”

you rub your eyes, but they only sink further back into your head as spencer’s hushed croons breeze into your ears.

his i miss you, along with the breathy squeak he emits as he leans over your body, has you ready to leap into his arms in an instant, but you don’t show it.

instead, you groan in protest, turning to the side and grasping onto the blankets a little tighter. 

because absolutely nothing can compare to the feeling of lying in the soft threads of spencer’s bed — especially when the curtains are still closed and are preventing the warm flush of early morning from pouring into your eyes.

but spencer seems to see right through you, and you hear the thuds of his footsteps quiet down as he makes his way to the other side of the room. with the sounds of curtain fabric whipping against air, the light that once striped your face through the cracks swallows you whole.

“nooo, spencer,” you roll over once again, squinting as the brightness penetrates your eyelids. “close the curtains, pleeease.”

the way you mewl your words so softly makes spencer stop in his tracks, because it’s too pretty to ignore — one might even say piteous.

“we’re both going to be late for work,” he hums amusedly, and kneels by your side of the bed. his broad hands caress your cheek and send a pleasurable chain of chemical reactions to your brain, lulling you even closer to sleep.

it’s like he’s doing it purposely, trying to draw you back into slumber. 

“so what if we’re late?” you say with a slight rasp, slowly opening both of your eyes to look sleepily into his lidded gaze. you almost whimper when he traces the sides of your face and rearranges your disarrayed strands of hair with his graceful fingers.

“hm. don’t you have a presentation to give today?” he chuckles, and the way his voice rises and falls rhythmically feels too hypnotizing. if he keeps this up, you’re seriously going to fall asleep.

“screw the presentation. i want to stay here. i need,” you lick your dry lips and watch as spencer sucks in a breath, “some more sleep.”

“well,” he chuckles softly in thought, “as much as i’d like to join you, i’ve just been called in for a case.”

“can’t you call in sick?”

“do you really want me to?”

“yes.” 

a brief flicker of amusement dances in spencer’s eyes. 

you sigh. “well… no. they need you.”

“more than you need me?”

you roll your eyes. “no… oh come on, spence. you’re making me look like the bad guy here.”

“sorry,” he says with an apologetic smile, and continues to rake his fingers through your hair. 

you can only stare blankly at the ceiling as he continues to brush your hair with his slow fingers, and as he gingerly untangles some of the strands along the way. you can smell the lingering scent of his shampoo, and the pleasant smell blossoms in the air as he lightly fluffs your hair.

you shift your gaze to look at him, admiring the way his hair, still damp from his morning shower, falls delicately over his eyes. suddenly, you get an idea.

“can i style your hair today?”

spencer looks mildly taken aback by your request, and his fingers halt in the soft pile of your hair.

“you want to, um-”

“please?” you look at him pleadingly, and grin as his contemplative gaze softens into a look of surrender.

“will that get you out of bed?”

you giggle. “it’s the only way.”

“fine.”

you practically leap out of the bed. swinging your arms around his neck and planting a kiss near his collarbone, you grab his the hand and lead him to the bathroom.

spencer laughs, unable to protest because of how you’re literally shining with excitement rummaging through the shelves to retrieve the case of hair gel. so he kneels on the bathroom floor and leans his head back ever so slightly, then looks up to meet your shimmering gaze.

“go ahead.” 

with his silent approval, your fingers linger excitedly around his face. unable to shake the feeling, you dip your head to kiss him on the cheek. instinctively, spencer closes his eyes.

at first, you just comb through his hair with your fingers, feeling how his soft, wispy strands flow around your skin. 

then, you dribble a small amount of gel on your palm and rub it so that it spreads across your entire hand. slowly, you run your fingers through his hair again, starting from the top and moving towards the back in one fluid motion. as you comb through the mop of his hair, you tuck the hardening strands behind his ears.

you look down to see that your boyfriend’s eyes are still closed, and smile.  

as if he can feel the radiance of your gentle expression, spencer slowly opens one eye and then the other, offering a beautiful smile of his own when his steady stare meet yours.

“are we done?” his smooth lips frame themselves to whisper the words softly, and the pleasant sound rubs against your ears.

“unfortunately, yes.” 

you cap the lid of the container and step back so your boyfriend can stand, and he uses your arm to help lift himself. 

inspecting the finished arrangement, spencer hums contently. “this looks great, thank you.”

he then turns to face you, and loops his outstretched arms around your waist. 

your mouth spreads into a wide smile as his lips sink against yours, and your feeble echoes of you're welcome vibrate in your muffled mouth.

pulling away at last, spencer takes both of your hands and moves you towards the sink, then turns on the tap so the water runs over both his and your hands. 

his fingers move between the crevices of yours as he lathers the soap over your skin and scrubs at the leftover grease. 

after rinsing your hands under the water, he proceeds to pat your hands dry with a towel. keeping the fabric in between his and your hands, he leans in and plants another kiss -- this time, to your neck. 

but then, without warning, your stomach lets out a low grumble.

spencer flicks his eyes upwards.

you pull back with an embarrassed smile, fully expecting spencer to react by stifling a chuckle. you hunch your shoulders and bite your bottom lip in anticipation of a teasing remark.

instead, he looks at you with an expression full of adoration. 

“how about we grab some breakfast?”

[taegimood]

— yeonjun overstimming himself to make you cum ♡

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 1k warnings: smut, overstimulation (m receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (m receiving), dirty talk, use of pet names (baby, good girl), tummy bulge, pussydrunk soft dom bf!jun~

a/n - i’ve had this idea for a while now, lots of people seemed to like my other jun thought so here’s another one ♡ my inbox is open, send in requests for any member~!

──────────────────────

your legs tremble with every steady thrust to your cunt that yeonjun delivers, the room hot with moans and labored breaths.

the sight above you is heavenly; his dark hair hanging over his eyes, eyes that are boring into yours as he keeps his lips so tantalizingly close — so close, but just far enough to make you beg for it.

you whine as you chase him into a kiss. moaning into each other’s mouths as his skin slaps against yours, you squeeze your legs tighter around his waist and grip the toned arms that hold him up on either side of you as his pace begins to quicken. “baby..”

you can tell he’s close by the breathlessness in his voice and the way his eyes screw shut, lip tugging between his teeth to stop the moans that threaten to spill.

he’s fucking into you so deliciously. your back arches as the tip of his cock hits particularly deep; with a strangled gasp, your hips buck up into his and the way your pussy clenches around him has yeonjun seeing stars.

“baby, i’m- f-fuck, i’m gonna fill you up so good.” he groans. “such a good girl. pussy so good.. squeezing around me like that, fuck..” you can tell that he’s close. his thrusts grow sloppy, desperate, drilling into you as he chases his approaching high. you’re practically drooling, moans spilling from your parted lips as he hits so deep, so good —

before he can help it, his cum is spilling into you, stuttering thrusts slowing to a stop as he pants heavily; the silver chain around his neck is still swinging as he hovers over you, catching his breath. you whine desperately at the sudden loss of movement, your orgasm so close, now chased away —

as much as you want to cum on his cock, you’re at least happy to have his fingers and tongue to help you meet your high, always the doting boyfriend. but as yeonjun sits up onto his knees, what you don’t expect is for him to grip your hips, yanking you further down on his sensitive cock instead of slipping out of you like he usually would, your legs splayed open over his thighs as your hips lift slightly off the bed.

you both gasp in unison at the feeling. “j-jun-?!”

you’re already lifting yourself up onto your elbows, but yeonjun’s hands remain firm on your hips.

“still gotta make you cum, baby, don’t i? just relax for me,” he breathes. you drop back onto the pillow in surprise as a fresh wave of arousal crashes over you, your boyfriend’s sweaty chest still rising and falling in pants as his brows furrow at the over-sensitivity. “jjunie it’s okay, you can just—“

his first thrust takes the words right off of your tongue and somewhere far, far away, and this new angle has you gripping the sheets for dear life. “fuck,” you gasp out as he picks up the pace into a sharp rhythm, pulling your hips against his with firm slaps of skin on skin, his twitching, hardening cock drilling the deepest parts of you like it’s his job. you can’t stop the lewd moans now, wondering how you’re even able to make any sound at all when he’s fucking you this good.

“that’s it, baby, take it,” he grunts, his eyes glued to the bulge of his big cock in your tummy.

“you like it when i use myself to get you off, huh? you like it when i service you like this?” he chuckles, the filthy wet noises that your pussy is making growing even wetter at his words. “y-yes..” you whimper pathetically, unable to even say anything else.

“so fucked out on my cock, can’t even speak..” he murmurs breathlessly, and despite all his taunts, you can tell that he’s no better than you as his words grow increasingly less convincing and just as desperate-sounding as you feel.

he’s pounding into you so messily, one of his thumbs moving over your clit in quick circles, his lips parted and head lolled back as he releases a loud groan at the way you’re clenching around him so tightly. you can see the way his abdomen is tensing from the sheer overstimulation he’s giving himself in his determination to get you off and you nearly cum just at the thought of it.“jjunie, ‘m so.. so fucking close, p-please.. please..”

“that’s it, baby, fucking cum all over my cock, let go for me, fuck- good girl-“ he gasps out, his voice more of a high whine now than anything, his low dominating tone from before practically evaporating with each thrust. his thumb is moving rapidly over your clit, eyes screwed shut and hips twitching, the over-sensitivity stripping him of any thought other than getting the both of you to cum. “n-need it, jun, need it so bad-!” you’re rambling, gripping onto his hand that still holds your hip, shaking and squirming and desperately trying to buck your hips further into him. you can feel the chord about to snap when your eyes meet his, and just like that, your vision flashes white as your orgasm wracks over your entire body. you can feel yeonjun’s warm cum spurting into you again as he moans out filthily, both of you shaking and slick with sweat as he finally collapses on top of you in a daze.

neither of you speak as you both catch your breath, chests moving fervently against each other’s. yeonjun slumps fully into the crook of your neck.

“holy fuck,” he rasps.

“yeah. holy fuck, yeonjun.”

he lifts his head tiredly to give you a shit-eating grin. his hand moves to soothe up and down your waist; “my stamina is no joke, huh?” you roll your eyes but return his smile anyway, resting your arms around his shoulders as you pull him down into a kiss. “can’t believe you did that..” you mumble shyly. he nuzzles his face into your cheek, peppering it with kisses, and you giggle.

“gotta give my best for my baby.”

[kkvqwrites]

Bedside Manner

Reader goes into labor while Simon's away and calls the first person she can think of. The task force (and some other friends in high places) rally around the couple on the most important day of their lives.

Word Count: 2,587

Characters (in order of appearance): fem!Reader (no use of y/n), Capt. John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kate Laswell

CW: childbirth, hospital setting, medical procedures

A/N: Am I a Ghost girlie? Absolutely. Am I also a sucker for the found family trope? Til I die. This idea wouldn't leave me alone and I'm so glad I stuck with it. I love the way this came out and hope you like it!

"Dear? Everything okay?"

The captain's voice on the other end of the line sounded worried. Both he and Simon had drilled it into you to never hesitate to call Price if you needed anything while your husband was away, but you couldn't help feeling a bit guilty.

"Um, I think so," you began, willing your voice to stay level and upbeat. "I think I just - oof.." Another contraction hit, stealing the air from your lungs. They were coming more consistently now, and hard enough to stop you in your tracks.

This could not be happening.

"What's wrong? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" You could hear movement in the background, him gathering his things to be out the door and on his way to you.

"I'm fine, John. I just didn't know who else to call. I think the baby might be coming?" The words came out pinched as you worked through the tail end of the contraction. The captain swore loudly.

"Stay put, love. I'm on the way - everything will be alright. Want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"No, no, that's fine. Stay safe and I'll see you when you get here." You hung up before he could argue and fuss like a mother hen.

______________________________________________________________

The knock at the door startled you. You looked at the clock - surely that couldn't be John already. The man lived across town. Not trusting yourself to make it to the door, you called out.

"It's open!"

Turns out it wasn't Price, but Gaz, who stepped into your living room and began taking in the scene. It was a sight to be sure: you, doubled over sitting on your yoga ball, rocking back and forth to try to alleviate some of the pressure in your hips, towel around your neck because you were sweating like a pig, ambient white noise filtering through the bluetooth speaker to keep you calm. For all his usual swagger and poise, Gaz looked a bit frightened.

"Kyle, did John call you? I'm so sorry - I'm sure you were busy-"

"Not at all, I rushed over as soon as I got word." The sergeant came to your side and knelt until he was eye level. "The captain's on his way but I was closer. We didn't want you to be alone any longer than necessary."

"You and your task force are worse than a quilting circle." The jab came with a joking smile, but the smile was cut short by the stab of another contraction. At the sight of your face screwing up in pain, Kyle's eyes got big.

"Can I do something? Do you need anything?" He wrung his hands as he fussed, seemingly unsure whether to touch you or whether you'd bite him if he tried. Admittedly, you weren't too sure yourself.

"Need you to reset - the timer." The words came out through clenched teeth as your muscles tensed and screamed. "Contractions - need to time them."

"The timer - right." He sprung into action, undoubtedly happy to have a defined task to accomplish. As he was fiddling with the device, Price stormed through the door, his demeanor all-business.

"Gaz? What's the situation?" The sergeant hopped to attention as if he was at roll call.

"Got here not long ago myself, Cap. Just reset the timer for contractions."

"Where are we at?"

"Thirteen minutes, sir."

The captain turned to you, assessing you from top to bottom. His expression and his voice softened considerably as he spoke.

"Ready to get to the hospital, love?"

"Can't - they told me to wait until they're five minutes apart." The man looked bewildered.

"And just let you sit here and suffer? Not on my watch. Gaz, grab my keys - "

"John," you interrupted. "I already called. They won't admit me yet. We just need to wait it out."

"Nonsense, love. You wait til I get someone's ear over there. Five minutes my arse." He moved to help you stand, but stopped in his tracks as he took in your face, your lip trembling. "Is there something else?" As if on cue, a fat tear rolled down your cheek, the first of its kind since the pains began.

"This isn't supposed to be happening," you squeaked out. "Not for a few more weeks. Simon's supposed to be here."

The men shared a glance, looking stricken. Price leaned down next to you, a broad hand gently squeezing your shoulder. His voice was soft when he spoke, a renewed slowness replacing his prior rushed pace.

"I know, love. I know it's not ideal, and I know you're scared. I know Simon would give anything to be here, that he'd split heaven and earth to be with you right now. But I also know he'd want you and your little one taken care of, yeah? He wouldn't want you to wait."

You nodded, despite more tears threatening. "Doesn't change the fact they won't admit me yet."

The captain's mouth quirked defiantly. "You let me worry about that. Gaz, help her up. I'll drive."

______________________________________________________________

Simon was tired down to his bones, feeling like a wrung out rag after the most recent mission. Despite that, the man was a ball of energy as he hopped off the plane, desperate to get back to you.

"Someone's antsy," Soap drawled, taking a more leisurely pace. He slid his sunglasses on as Simon switched on his cell phone anxiously. "Got somewhere to be, LT?"

"'Matter of fact I do - home." Simon impatiently hiked his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. "See my wife, eat a real meal. Finally build that godforsaken changing table. Who knew a baby needs so much furniture?"

Soap barked a laugh, but Simon tuned him out as he put his phone to his ear. He'd gotten a voicemail from you, and everything else ceased to matter.

"Hey babe, it's me. I'm not sure when you'll get this, and I hate to worry you. I'm sure it's fine. It's just... I've been feeling some contractions-"

Simon didn't hear the rest, nearly dropping his phone as he broke into a run.

______________________________________________________________

True to his word, Price argued with the hospital staff until you were taken up to a room. You were sure he must have pulled rank, threatened to call people, but he refused to let you worry about it.

The ride had been smooth, despite John driving like a bat out of hell. Gaz stayed in the back seat with you, clinging to your hand and fussing. Later, you'd think it was funny how he seemed to need more encouragement and support than he offered, but at that moment very little was funny.

You had been able to stay in denial for an admirably long time. The past few days, you were able to tell yourself it was just Braxton-Hicks contractions, not the real thing. That even when it became evident the real thing was starting, that it wouldn't progress quickly. That even though it was progressing, that Simon would walk in the door just at the right moment and sweep you into the car and off to the hospital and all would be well. Even when your gut told you to pick up the phone and call the captain, you had managed to make yourself believe that you were wrong, that it was a false alarm, that you still had more time.

Now, here you were, connected to monitors and being poked and prodded by nurses. Medical history, allergies, birth plan, you felt like you were in interrogation rather than a patient receiving care. And if it wasn't the nurses it was the two men standing off to the side, one wringing his hands in worry and one watching the nurses like a hawk and barking questions. The contractions were closer to eight minutes apart now, progressing quickly. Now the situation was very real, and as thankful as you were from the support from Price and Gaz, your heart threatened to shatter at the absence of the one person who mattered most.

______________________________________________________________

"Bloody fuckin' hell, no one will answer their phone!" Ghost barked, ready to throw his out the window. He'd had radio silence other than a second voicemail, this one from the Captain:

"Simon, Price here. Just got word from the missus that the baby's on the way. I'm headed there now. I don't want you to worry about a thing, I won't leave her side. I'll update you as I'm able."

"She knew to call the captain; he's probably with her now," Soap offered from the driver's seat. He'd practically had to arm wrestle Simon for the keys, but ended up convincing him that he'd be able to call for updates if he wasn't worried about driving. Silently, he thanked the saints Simon had agreed; who knows what carnage he'd unleash on the roads as worked up as he was.

"He better be, or I'll - not now, Laswell!" Simon rejected the third call from the station chief since landing and tried Price again. He was sure he'd hear about it for skipping debrief and jumping in the car, but right now he couldn't bring himself to give a shit. When Price's phone again went to voicemail, he was about to go nuclear when the car's Bluetooth lit up with Laswell's number.

"Shite; let me answer it LT." Soap pushed the button. "Laswell, it's Soap. Here with Ghost."

"I know," she said impatiently, her voice filling the space. "I've been trying to call all afternoon. I know what's happening and I'm here to help."

"What? How do you know?"

"Price called me as soon as he got word, asked me to find you. Anyway, you're wasting time heading in that direction; there's a lane closure ahead and you're about to be neck deep in traffic. I've mapped an alternate route for you. Take the next left."

The two men looked at each other in confusion before both starting to speak at the same time.

"Left? That takes us the wrong way-" "How do you know where we're at?"

"Boys! Boys, listen," she continued, exasperated. "Don't worry about how I know, just do as I say. We're gonna get you there as fast as possible. Now turn left!"

Soap cut the car to the left, ignoring the indignant honks of other drivers as he began to cut through the city under Laswell's watchful eye.

______________________________________________________________

"The doctor says you'll be ready to start pushing soon. How are you feeling?" The nurse was genuinely trying to be nice, so you bit back on your retort of how the fuck does it look like I'm feeling? My insides are exploding! and instead chose a weak smile and a head nod.

Once the nurse whisked away, Price was back at your side. You could tell by his expression he wanted to give you a pep talk like you were one of his soldiers about to head into battle, but he was searching for the right thing to say. You broke the silence first.

"I'm scared." Your voice sounded small, the words escaping almost of their own volition. The captain took your hand, blessedly avoiding sugarcoating the situation.

"I know. But you're doing great - a real trooper. Even with the needle in the back! Simon's gonna be so proud of you, love. And Gaz and I are gonna be right here. Right Gaz?"

"Right, Cap." The sergeant slid back into the room, cup of ice in hand. While the captain had taken point and begun advocating for you with the hospital staff and asking a million questions, Gaz had been dutifully making sure you were comfortable. Anything from getting you an extra pillow for your back, to helping you tie your hair back, to getting you ice chips since you couldn't have food or drink during labor, he was on it. If either man was uneasy about what was about to happen, they dutifully kept it under wraps and maintained their game faces.

One by one, the care team took up positions around you to get started. Price and Gaz got next to you, each taking one of your hands, ready to offer what support they could. You shamed yourself, one last time, for being ungrateful for their presence. A lot of people give birth with less, you tried to tell yourself. He’d be here if he could. 

 The doctor walked in, donning gloves and getting a quick status update from one of the nurses before meeting your eyes. “Evening, ma’am. We’re going to-” 

Her words were cut off by a commotion in the hall, a door slamming and what sounded like some raised voices. Everyone in the room exchanged confused glances, and Price motioned for Gaz to go investigate. He poked his head out into the hall for only a moment before returning with a big grin.

“You’re not gonna believe who’s here."

Then your husband was in the doorway, and then he was at your side, and suddenly those honey brown eyes drowned out every ounce of pain and fear you’d been holding onto, and that warm, calloused hand took yours, and you were ready.

______________________________________________________________

You would have thought it would be difficult to fall asleep under fluorescent lights, with monitors beeping and staff bustling around. But you had never known tiredness like this, and wanted to take the nurse’s advice and rest while the pain meds were still working their magic. The delivery had been uneventful once the show was on the road, and Simon never left your side, his steady presence grounding and his voice in your ear keeping you calm. Then there she was, a baby girl, the most precious tiny thing you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d stared at her and cried for hours, stroking her tiny hand and welcoming her to the world until you could barely keep your eyes open. And so, with a squeeze of your hand and a kiss on your forehead from Simon, you found yourself drifting off. You were aware, as you floated off, of his slow pacing back and forth with your newborn daughter in his arms, of his whispers to her that were too low for you to hear. Of the guys popping in, as unobtrusively as possible lest the lieutenant tear them limb from limb for disturbing you and the baby, bringing him food and coffee and admiring the bundle of joy.

“Doesn’t look a thing like you, Simon,” said Soap.

“Thank God for that,” he replied.

“You should have seen it, Simon really - needle this long, right in the spine!” Price remarked, not for the first time. “She didn’t even flinch.”

“I’m just glad you made it for the gross stuff,” mumbled Gaz.

“Kyle, you’re in the military. You’ve seen arms and legs blown off.”

“Completely different, Johnny. Not the same at all.”

On and on they bantered, brothers in arms stepping into their role as uncles for your baby girl with delight. One of the last things you heard was Simon, his voice thick with emotion.

“Thank you, all of you, for being here. For today.”

“Oh come off it Simon,” replied the Captain. “These girls mean something to you, so they mean something to us. That’s what a family is. Now quit hogging her and let Uncle John have a turn.”

You wouldn’t remember this conversation when you woke up, wouldn’t be able to articulate where it came from, but you’d carry with you the bone-deep feeling of connection with this little makeshift family forever.

[turntechcosplayer]

☆Making Mistakes: Spencer Reid x Reader

꩜✦18+ MINORS DNI✦꩜ ☆ ꩜✦18+ MINORS DNI✦꩜ ☆ ꩜✦18+ MINORS DNI✦꩜

Word Count: 3.0k

This is my second work for Kinktober (and yes I know this is ridiculous, but I've got so much more in the works now that midterms are over.) In this work, these kinks are explored:

1.) Drunk Sex 2.) Slight Dub-Con 3.) Begging 4.) Creampie

꩜✦18+ MINORS DNI✦꩜ ☆ ꩜✦18+ MINORS DNI✦꩜ ☆ ꩜✦18+ MINORS DNI✦꩜

꩜✦18+ MINORS DNI✦꩜ ☆ ꩜✦18+ MINORS DNI✦꩜ ☆ ꩜✦18+ MINORS DNI✦꩜

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

REMEMBER, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME.

"Spencer... I think we need to talk." I said into the phone. His breathing sounded uneasy and his words sounded shaky as his answer came over the line.

"Yeah...okay... I'll be up in 5 minutes."

"Okay. See you then." I answered. I hung up the phone and looked at myself in the mirror. Was I really about to do this? Could I do this? And I meant that philosophically, it was definitely against HR guidelines. My fingers tightened around the cold glass bottle in my hands as I raised it to my lips, taking a swig of the tart but not altogether unpleasant dry white wine I'd found in my fridge. I closed my eyes, attempting to settle my nerves with a slow and deliberate inhale. You can do this... He's only your coworker.... And best friend... And downstairs Neighbor... God! What was I doing? I had to call him back and tell him nevermind! We didn't need to talk after all. I would be okay. I loved being his friend. I could love him from afar. Cheer him on from the sidelines... Maybe that could be enough…

No... I knew I'd never get enough of him that way to make up for not having him in the way I needed him... What if... What if I took the mystery out of it? What if I just slept with him? Then I could have those memories to hold me over until I was dead and it wasn't my problem anymore. That could be enough... That would be enough. It had to be. It was the best compromise. I could have a piece of him. And it would be less likely to complicate things than if I were to come right out and tell him that I loved him. from the very moment I saw him. I raised the bottle to my lips again, taking another swig. I had probably drank way more than I should have. That tell-tale fuzziness began to cloud my brain in simultaneously the best and worst ways. I only knew one thing for certain in that moment... I absolutely positively could not tell him the truth of why I'd asked him up here. I heard his familiar knock on my front door. 'Shave and a haircut, two bits.' 

I gritted my teeth and headed to the door. Fate awaited me there. I placed the bottle down on the counter of my kitchen island much harder than I meant to, creating a loud clang. I grimaced and reached out for the door, shrugging my housecoat higher on my shoulders. The door opened to reveal Spencer, standing in his pajamas, robe, and the slippers I'd bought him for secret Santa at the office two Christmases ago.

"Are you...okay?" I just gestured to the bottle sitting on the counter and stepped aside, letting him enter. He came in, walking stiff and awkward, obviously not knowing why he'd been summoned. I sucked in a deep breath. You can do this. Just ask him if he'd like to have sex with you... There was just one problem. I had no idea how proposing a casual sexual encounter worked. I'd only ever had sex within a relationship... Never free-range. I screwed up my nose at that wording. Free-range... Like all my sexual encounters had been locked up in some kind of cage up until this point. Well, maybe that was one way of looking at it. This was something different. Something new to try. I wasn't doing this because I was a coward. No, I was just giving myself a new experience. A new adventure. This was empowering. 

Spencer's hair was wet. He must've had a shower no more than 10 minutes ago. A small water droplet fell from one of his gorgeous locks and cascaded down his forehead as if it were on a crusade of sorts. He raised his hand to wipe it away and I noticed he'd been staring at me. Probably thinking I was some kind of nutcase. My hand slowly reached out without my telling it to do so, taking his as I took a slow step closer.

"(Y/n)..." He questioned. 

"Spencer..." I whispered back. His eyes fluttered down to my lips. His eyelashes seemed impossibly long and his gaze felt hot on my skin. 

"(Y/n)..." His breath clouded my senses. Oh God... 

"Spencer..." I whined, turning my eyebrows up.

"You're drunk..." He whispered, leaning down closer to my lips.

"True." I answered, my lips ghosting over his as I spoke. Was I really doing this?

"Tell me what I'm doing here." He murmured. I wanted so desperately just to spill everything. To tell him how I felt. To tell the truth no matter what it cost me. But I just couldn’t…

"To quell my curiosity" I whispered. I interlaced our fingers and my breath caught in my throat as his other hand laid on my hip. 

"And what is it you're curious about?" He asked. What came out of my mouth next was almost definitely the wine talking.

"I want to know how your tongue tastes..." his mouth split into a grin and the tip of his nose knocked against mine as I gritted my teeth, just waiting. 

"God dammit (Y/n)..." He whispered.

"Because I've always wondered..." I murmured. "And maybe... If I were to taste you... Just once... I could get it out of my head." Yes, definitely the wine... I mean, sober thoughts,  but I definitely didn't intend for them to come out of my mouth.

"Just once?" He asked.

"Okay... Maybe more than once... " I stood on my tiptoes and let my eyes flutter closed before I finally pressed my lips to his. Desire burned through my body and my skin buzzed with anticipation. This night had potential. We had potential. I needed him.in whatever way I could get him. Just this once... Finally, I could let my little façade slip. Even just a little. Maybe I couldn't tell him the whole truth, but this night... We could have this night... And that would have to do.

Spencer slowly pulled his hand out of mine, reaching up and pushing my hair back behind my ear, letting his hand settle on the back of my neck. I tipped my head down, breaking our lips apart and leaning my forehead against his. This was already more than I ever could have hoped for. I looked up into his eyes. His gorgeous, warm, caramel eyes. He slowly dipped his head down, his lips pressed against my neck and I groaned, feeling my knees start to give way under me. I slowly shrugged my housecoat off and it fell to the ground, pooling around my feet. I was now left in my white, ribbed tank-top and my black bicycle shorts with the rainbow waistband. His hand slowly slipped under my top, propping itself back on my hip.

"Oh... Fuck..." I whispered, gripping onto his robe. My fists clenched around the material. Spencer's teeth nipped at my skin, his lips abusing it to the point, I knew they'd be leaving a bruise in their wake. He broke away from me.

"Tell me what you want..." He whispered, looking into my eyes. They seemed to be lit with the same fiery passion that had been ignited in mine. My lips parted as I gasped for air.

"God, Spencer, just take me!" I spat, reconnecting our lips. Spencer's hands ran down the backs of my thighs and I jumped. He caught me and carried me to the kitchen island, placing me down on it. I desperately pushed his robe off his shoulders, and he shed it. I placed my hands on either side of his face, pressing my lips back to his in a feverish frenzy. He gripped the bottom hem of my tank top, pulling it up. It passed between our lips, and I took a moment to suck in a deep breath. 

"Oh... Oh my god... " He whispered as his gaze fell down to my chest. "You look... Oh my god..." His hands laid on my sides, running up and tracing the outline of my breasts. "Jesus (Y/n)..." I felt a hot blush claw its way onto my face. "Can I...?"

"Oh... Uh, yeah- of course." I answered. He slowly bent down, forming his lips around my right nipple, sucking slightly and lapping his tongue up against it. I tangled both my hands in his hair, tugging on it hard. He let out a groan. "Oh... Ah- Spence! Oh my God!!!" I lolled my head back and my toes curled, my back arching as moans spilled from my lips.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful." He murmured, leaning in and kissing down my chest. I pushed myself forward and slid off the bar, taking his hand and dragging him with me to my bedroom. I just needed him. I pulled my hand from his and pushed down my shorts and my panties, hopping out of them and leaving them on the floor. Spencer began shedding his clothes behind me and I climbed into bed. He climbed in after me, holding himself over top of me. "Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked. I felt a shiver go down my spine. Did I? If this was what I got... So be it... I'd take any of him he was willing to give.

"Yes..." I answered, "I- I need this... I- I need you." Spencer closed his eyes and a small grin appeared on his face. He nodded and reached down, taking himself into his hand and guiding his tip to my entrance.

"Are you ready?" He asked.

"Yes." I answered. I took a deep breath and grabbed fistfuls of the sheets. Spencer slowly pushed into me. A gasp clawed its way forth from my throat and I heard Spencer let out a similar one. He buried his head in my neck, his teeth sinking into my shoulder. A loud whine left me, and I felt an unexpected silent sob wrack my body. He filled me so totally and so completely in a way I didn't think I'd ever be able to describe. All I knew was that there would be a gaping hole in my chest where my heart used to be when he was gone. 

I felt disgusted with myself. I'd gotten Spencer into my bed... And for what? Just so I could squirrel a piece of him away to keep for myself? So I could have something to point to on those nights when I felt so incredibly alone? Like nothing could ever fill the gaping, never-ending, all-encompassing black hole of loneliness that overtook my chest every so often. My nails dug into his back as he rocked in and out of me. He snapped his hips hard against me and it ripped me out of my thoughts, back to the moment. He felt impossibly good. Amazing, even. This was no doubt the best sex of my life. He felt incredible.

"Oh... God...! Oh fuck Spencer! Yes- God yes!" I dragged my nails down his back, gripping his hips so hard I knew I'd leave marks. This beautiful man was in my bed, making me feel things that no one else ever had. I rocked my hips, my back arching hard against the mattress. God, what was I doing?! I was lying to him. I had to come clean. I had to tell him the truth. This had to stop. A strangled sob ripped out of my body. I felt hollow.

"Stop! God- Spencer... Please- please stop!" Spencer immediately pulled out of me and threw himself off the side of the bed, standing over me and watching as tears fell down my face.

"Oh God- (Y/n), fuck- I'm so sorry- I-" I sat up, covering my chest with my arms and pawwing uselessly at the steady stream of tears falling down my cheeks. 

"No... I'm sorry, Spencer. I- I don't- this isn't what I wanted- I.." I drew my legs up under me. Spencer eyed me wearily, sitting beside me. I leaned my head on his shoulder, intertwining our fingers. "Spencer, I have... I have loved you since the day we met... And I just... I couldn't tell you- I just had to have a part of you..." Spencer looked down at me.

"(Y/n), I... I don't know what to say..." He murmured. My heart dropped. He slowly picked his head up and I knew he was looking at me. I picked up my head and kept my eyes on the floor. "(Y/n)... Look at me..." I slowly lifted my head and met his eyes. He looked disappointed... But there was something more there... "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"I... I just couldn't..." I whispered.

"(Y/n), I have always thought you were the smartest, sweetest, most beautiful woman I'd ever met... But I gave up hope that you would ever feel the same... But this...? God... (Y/n)..." He dragged his eyes up my body and I felt forced to meet them.

"I'm so sorry..."

"Fuck, (Y/n)..." He whispered. He leaned in and reconnected our lips. I immediately reciprocated. I shoved the blankets off of me and cambered on top of him.

"God, Spencer..." I whispered against his lips. His caramel eyes darkened as they met mine. "Please, can I put it in?" I asked, “Please please please?" I begged. His lips broke into a devilish grin.

"How bad do you want it?" He asked, leaning his forehead on mine, letting his eyes wander down my nude body.

"Fuck, Spencer... I need it... I need you so bad..." I whispered, “Please! Spencer, please, please, please. I need you inside me..." He gritted his teeth and dragged the tip of his nose up my face until his lips were almost back on mine.

"Okay... Show me how well you take it." He muttered against my lips. I smiled and reached down between us. I took his cock into my hand, giving him a few pumps before guiding him into me. My mouth fell open and a gasp escaped. I sat down on him fully, my head rolling back as I slowly started rocking my hips. “Oh fuck..." Spencer whispered, his hands immediately propping themselves on my hips. His grip was tight and he felt fucking amazing.

"Ah- Spencer...! Spence, fuck..." I groaned. My back arched and I placed my hands behind me, steadying myself on his thighs. I cast my eyes down, watching as he slowly disappeared and reappeared from inside me. I moved my hips harder and faster. My slick fluid cascaded down his gorgeous shaft, wetting the neat, downy hairs at its base. I glanced up at his face, seeing he couldn't seem to pull his eyes away from the sight. He slowly moved one of his hands down, perching his fingers on my clit. I clenched my eyes shut and moved my hips in a sloppier pattern. " Oh- oh God, Spencer! Yes! Just like that! Oh my God, fuck!"

"Fuck, (Y/n), you feel so fucking amazing... God, you're so fucking- ah! God, you're so fucking tight!" I squeezed around him, flicking my hips forward. His head immediately lolled back, his lips parting, groans and gasps spilling out. His hips bucked up against mine and my grip on his thighs tightened. I could feel my fingers digging into his skin, continuing the sharp snapping movement of my hips. I felt his cock twitch inside me and I suddenly sat up, my movements shifting to more of a hopping motion. I wrapped my arms around him, digging my nails into his back, gripping him so tightly, I felt the tips of my fingers beginning to numb. Spencer bucked his hips up to meet mine sloppily. I leaned my forehead on his, meeting his eyes. We both broke into a spin, our breathing almost indistinguishable from the pleasured moans and gasps that escaped us. "God, you're so fucking beautiful..." Spencer gasped against my lips. Our breathing was ragged, and I poked my tongue out from between my teeth, running it along his upper lip. A chuckle escaped him and he opened his mouth, his own tongue coming out and meeting mine. it circled around mine and I could feel our breath mixing together in the sweltering room. Sweat poured off of us and the room smelled like pure sex and desire. His thumb circled my clit faster, his other fingers splaying out against my tummy to keep his movements as steady as possible. We both became sloppy in our movements as we came closer and closer to the edge. It began building up inside me, growing higher and higher and higher.

"Oh God, Spencer, I'm gonna cum!" I whispered, leaning in and letting my lips ghost over his. He smiled and pecked my lips briefly before backing off.

"Cum baby... Cum for me..." He whispered, I finally let myself go. I clenched around him, riding out the best orgasm of my life on his cock.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! Oh my god!!!" I groaned. My toes curled and my eyes clenched shut as the white hot pleasure rolled through me.

"Fuck, (Y/n) you gotta set off or- oh fuck- oh fuck- I'm going to cum!" He groaned.

"Fuck, Spencer-! I don't care! Cum in me! Fucking cum in me! I fucking need it... Fuck, Spencer, please!" I begged.

"God, (Y/n), you can't talk to me like that... Are you- ah! Are you on the pill?" he asked, hurriedly.

"Yes, Spencer, fuck! Just fucking give it to me!"

"Oh God! (Y/n)! Fuck!" He pumped up into me, gritting his teeth. Finally, I felt him let go. Thick ropes of cum shot inside me... And I took it. I took it all. I needed it. I finally relaxed and I felt him do the same. I collapsed against his chest and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me against him tightly. 

"My God, Spencer, that was... Oh my God, that was fucking amazing. You felt fucking amazing..." He chuckled into my hair. "What?" I asked.

"The woman I've had a crush on for years just begged me to cum inside her." I playfully smacked at his shoulder.

"And you did it..." I murmured.

"You're drunk..." He whispered.

"True... But I regret nothing." 

"Good... Because neither do I."

Turn's Notes: Hi guys! I hope you enjoyed this fic! I got to itch to write, but I promise that I have more than just Spencer Reid x Readers in the works. And I feel like I should forewarn you, I cannot stick to a schedule to save my life, especially a self-imposed one. Anyway- hope you enjoyed this fic! Bye bye! <3

[zepskies]

A Crime of Passion

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: When Beau Arlen decides to “make it up to you,” he’s damn thorough.

AN: I couldn't help myself lol. I wrote this last night. Here's a quick little drabble for the Take Me Home series, set directly after A Good Man Is Hard to Find!

Based on this request from @jessicalynnann.

Word Count: 550

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Implied smut, fluff, and a murder (of sorts).

Catch up on the TMH-verse: ⤵️

❤️ Take Me Home Masterlist

You just…you couldn’t stop laughing.

“All right, you done?” Beau asked.

You never thought you’d see this man blush so thoroughly. It made you laugh harder, though you tried to stifle it with your hands covering your face.

He had you laid out beside him, still skin against naked skin as the cool air began to dry your dewy bodies.

You were lying against him in an odd position, considering your bed now had a deep crack in the bedframe that ran all the way down the middle. It meant your legs were bent at an angle, almost like you were laying in a recliner seat.

You just couldn’t believe it.

This man had really broken your bed.

In fact, he murdered it. Killed it dead. Though you supposed it was a crime of passion, in this case. (You held in a snort at the thought.)

There were even a couple of screws that had rolled across the tile floor.

“Again, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I promise I’ll pay for a new frame,” Beau said contritely.

The truth was, he was embarrassed beyond belief.

Another giggle escaped you, though you tried to soothe him by caressing his cheek.

“Baby, it’s okay. This thing was old. I’m surprised it survived the move all the way from Chicago, honestly,” you said. The twinkle of mischief in your eyes made his face warm further.

“But how damn lucky am I,” you added, your lips curving. “My man quite literally shatters expectations when he makes love to me.”

And despite the unexpected cracking sound that had left you wide-eyed, it had been a spectacular finish. Even now, you were still tingling between your legs from how hard you’d come on his cock. (Twice.)

You slipped your bare leg between both of his and pressed a sweet kiss to his chest.

Beau fought it, but he had to smile at your words, and your affection. He sunk a hand into your tangled hair, first brushing his thumb against your cheek.

“You sure you’re okay then?” he asked.

“I’m more than okay,” you said. He felt the shape of your smile against his skin. You pulled back to meet his eyes. “Better the bed than my back, anyway. Jesus.”

Beau let out a sigh. Another giggle bubbled over and escaped you. You rubbed his arm.

“Think of it this way,” you said. “Now we can go pick out a new bed together.”

Beau tilted his head at that, and he nodded. A smile grew across his face.

“Now there’s an idea,” he said. It was probably too soon for him to broach the topic of moving in with you, but this could be a good first step.

“Right?” you replied in excitement. But there was something else dancing in your eyes. “We’ll just have to make sure the frame’s reinforced with titanium or something, because goddamn.”

Beau couldn’t help but laugh. He dropped his forehead against your shoulder while his own shook. You held him to you and didn’t bother to try and hide your own amusement anymore.

One thing you knew for sure?

There was no way in hell you’d ever let him live this down.

And one thing he would never tell you…

Beau Arlen was damn proud of himself.

AN: 😂 Well then. That was fun, and I hope you enjoy! ❤️

Keep Reading:

Here’s a one-shot set a couple of months after this one. It’s called S.I.N.G.:

Summary: Beau wishes you’d take this self-defense lesson a little more seriously.

▶️ Next Story: S.I.N.G.

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[maxislvt]

Succubus Season

pairing(s): succubus! wanda maximoff x reader, brief natasha romanoff x reader

summary: Just when your life starts to come together, life throws another curve ball at you. Except this time it isn't a bully or a shitty English teacher. This curve ball is seven feet tall with horns and a lot of pent-up sexual energy.

warnings: jealousy, possessive thoughts/behavior, AMAB!Reader, dom!Wanda, sub!Reader, anal sex, anal fingering, prostate milking, overstimulation, cum eating, size kink (she's 7 feet tall)

a/n: Idk this is a tad self indulgent but it's Fine because it's sexy

Event Masterlist

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Adulthood came with many struggles. You made it through high school, your poor budgeting habits, and you're currently pushing your way through medical school. It wasn't easy, but your determination and pride got you through it. Now you were one step further into adulthood by owning a house. No more roommates or weird landlords. Just your own space with no one else in it.

However, you hit an unexpected bump in the road.

Moving in seemed harder than doing all the paperwork. At first, you blamed it on how far you were moving. Some of your friends were kind enough to drive anywhere from 2 to 15 hours to help you move. It was possible they were tired and didn't consider how strenuous moving was. Then things got a little bit odd. You couldn't leave a room unattended for more than half an hour without someone getting some sort of freak injury. Luckily it was nothing worse than little cuts or bruises.

Oddly, fixing up the garage proved to be the hardest part. Bucky got sent to the hospital over a spider bite. Steve's asthma suddenly kicked up — though part of that was his fault considering everyone told him it'd be a bad idea to clean a dusty room without an inhaler. A lot of them had been overcome with mysterious illnesses and your team was getting smaller and smaller.

Eventually, it was down to just you and Tony.

All that was left to do was fix your janky garage door and the god-awful cabinets. It should've been a simple job. Replacing a few doors and fixing up some gears. Unfortunately, it turned out to be nearly impossible.

"God, this stupid fucking drill." You grumbled while trying to loosen the screws holding the cabinet door together. Tool malfunctions were another thing hindering your progress. One toolbox to fix the whole house wasn't entirely effective, but the finicky handles and rather disagreeable drill bits weren't making it any better. "Son of a bitch, these cabinet doors are hideous anyways!" After another failed attempt at removing the screw, you slam the tool on the countertop with a frustrated grunt. You slammed it a bit too hard against the counter because the sound shook the whole garage.

The old gears in your garage door creaked and shook before suddenly turning to drop the door.

"Tony, look out!" You shouted before running over to catch the door. The metal door slammed down hard on your shoulder blades. "Ah, shit!" You hissed out. It took all your strength to push the door back up. "Fuck, are you okay?" You asked Tony while rubbing your bruising shoulder blades.

Tony stared up at the garage door before getting up. He anxiously cleared his throat. "Well, if that doesn't open my eyes to my old age, I don't know what will." His shaky hands smooth out his shirt before grabbing his tools. "Yeah kid, I think I'm gonna call it a day after that." An unusually shaky sigh fell from his lips as he hugged you.

You looked up at the garage door. It needed to be fixed, but nothing physical was worth the life of a friend. "Um..yeah you do that. I'll just fix it my-"

"Don't do that," Tony interrupted, knowing your history with home repair.

A grimace overtook your features, but you knew Tony was right. "Okay, I won't fix it myself. I'll try and find some company to do it." You patted Tony on the back. He wasn’t the most tan friend you had, but you'd never seen him so pale before. "We should get you a drink before letting you head home."

With that, you were down to just yourself.

Your shoulders were in too much pain for you to keep working so you called it a day. Eight o'clock was a bit early for you, but you were much too shaky to do anything else. After a quick shower and some pain cream on your shoulder blades, you called it a day. Pain and warm water turned out to be the perfect combination for sleep.

"Release me…"

You shot up and immediately looked around the room. No one else was in your room. You weren't sure if it was real, but there were goosebumps on your skin and the hairs on your neck wouldn't lay down. As scary as it was, you decided you must've left the TV on up front and ignored it.

The next morning you're a bit jarred but ready to spend the weekend cleaning.

You looked around the garage to see what you had left to do. The garage door was off-limits and you were beyond frustrated with the cabinets in there. Just when you thought it'd be a simple work day, you noticed a hatch on the roof. Odd, you don't remember there being an attic on the room list when you bought the house.

You shrugged and jumped up to bring down the step ladder. The creaking underneath your feet meant it was time for the wood to be replaced, but you decided to prioritize exploration. Which turned out not to be the best idea.

"What the fuck!?" The words slipped out before you could even think. You looked around the attic. Chalk lines drawn out to make a magical symbol that you weren't even going to pretend you understood. There were more symbols carved into the wall. In the middle of it all, there was a small table. You weren't crazy enough to step towards it but you could see a jar filled with some mysterious liquid surrounded by other magical trinkets you didn't want to touch. "...Well, I guess that's what I get for buying a three-bedroom house for less than 100,000," You whispered as you climbed down the ladder.

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Now that you were terrified of your garage, you decided to focus on the less haunted part of your house.

It was a pain in the ass to move furniture and boxes by yourself, but better than a bunch of mysterious dead friends. After about a month or so, you were finally satisfied with the state of your house. The once barren walls were now filled with photographs and pairings. Long gone was the feeling of emptiness. It was your space now.

"Let me out, detka, please."

Oh, and the space of whatever freaky demon that was occupying that jar in your attic. Ignoring it was becoming harder. What started as the occasional whisper in your sleep turned into uncomfortably realistic wet dreams and a lot of ruined underwear. Now you could feel it hovering over you.

Tonight was the worst of it. Sensual kisses along the column of your neck pulled you in and out of sleep. Its hands were abnormally adventurous too. A less sleep-deprived version of yourself would've questioned the kisses on your neck, but your lack of sleep had left you a tiny bit delusional. One particular rough kiss finally woke you up properly.

The pain made you jolt up. "Fuck, you're having fun with this." You whisper despite the fact you're not sure it was listening. Your sleep shorts are stained with precum and you're painfully erect. A heavy sigh fell from your lips. "God, I hope you don't turn out to be some evil murder demon." The walk to your garage felt incredibly long. Each step added to the knot in your stomach. It was a miracle you didn't vomit by the time you stood underneath the hatch.

Your body moved as if it weren't your own. Awkward and clunky, but desperate to reach a goal you weren't too keen on. Once the ladder dropped back down your fate was sealed. You climbed up into the attic and stumbled towards the table.

For a moment just looked at the jar. Then you started laughing. "God, I am losing my mind. What is this stuff anyways, some disgusting old jam?" You scuffed with unwarranted confidence as you opened the jar.

It was not jam. Nor was it jelly or some other kind of preserve.

It was a seven-foot-tall demon. She had tinted red skin and two sets of horns sticking out of her head. You could see serrated teeth and an uncomfortably long tongue behind plum lips. You couldn't see them since they were above your head and you weren't going to risk looking away from it, but you could tell that it had claws.

The only thing keeping you from screaming your head off was not wanting to deal with a noise complaint in the morning.

"So um, can you put in on rent or are you just gonna bum out in my attic?"

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Wanda lived on Earth for thousands of years and never had she met a human more determined than you were. At first, she blamed your disinterest on her demonic form, but not even her human form could take your eyes off whatever project had taken up your time. Your focus was admirable, but Wanda was starting to get hungry.

So she decided to be more upfront about her needs.

Today, the only thing between her and a proper meal was a book. One you'd been reading for nearly an hour, but it was easier to take your attention away from that than it was from work.

Wanda laid down on your stomach and looked up at you with the softest, most desperate eyes she could muster. "I know this might come off as too much, but I'm really hungry...I just need a little something to get me through the day." Her eyes carefully watched your facial expression. Your eyebrows furrowed and your lips turned down.

"Oh, you must be starving."

Wanda was expecting a more sympathetic tone, but you said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You quickly marked your page in the book and laid it down on the coffee table. "Wait right here, I'll make you something good." Part of you felt like one of those evil landlords on Reddit. You were making her pay rent but she didn't feel comfortable eating. "I have some snacks in the cabinets if you're really hungry. Help yourself to whatever."

Her fingers twitch. It's not what she wanted, but she found herself tempted. "It's fine, I can wait," She whispered. Succubi shouldn't get nervous. Wanda's hands reached out and held your waist. The benefit of being a succubus is that Wanda knows you won't deny her. Her fingers slipped underneath your shirt just to feel the softness of your skin. "What are you cooking?"

The question confused Wanda. She'd never cared about a human beyond a desire to feed off of them, but you were different. She was desperate to know more about you. Wanda wanted you in a way that she'd never wanted a human before. Thoughts of jealousy began stirring in her heart. As her fingertips explored the softness of your skin.

It didn't take long for that desire to evolve into something more deviant. Wanda found herself hating the physical space between you and her. She found herself disappointed she couldn't be inside you. As adorable as human fragility was, she couldn't stand the fact she couldn't be closer. Wanda needed to be under your skin and next to your still-beating heart. A hoodie could only make up for that half the time.

It wouldn't be much longer before she'd have to feed from you. Only you.

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It was embarrassing to admit as a succubus, but Wanda had officially gone multiple months without feeding from anyone. To rub salt in the wound, the one person she wanted to feed from seemingly had no issue sleeping around.

You were always talking up some girl and brought a new one home every other week. That was bad enough on its own, but you were always kind enough to make them breakfast or wash their clothes before sending them off. And once they were gone, you were right back by Wanda's side like nothing happened. Like you didn't just manage to play with the feelings of a succubus and send her into a jealous spiral.

Your latest adventure seemed to get under her skin like no one else before. This mysterious redhead had done quite a number on you. Dark red and purple bruises littered your neck and shoulders and you could barely stand upright. If you hadn't bashfully shooed her away, Wanda wouldn't have had a problem helping. Of course, your little fling was there to save the day.

"I didn't think you'd be able to walk after all that," The woman said with an amused tone. She sauntered up behind you and wrapped her arms around your waist. Her chin rested on top of your head. "You sure you don't want me to finish those up for you? I'm a little worried you're gonna collapse on me."

You squirmed in Natasha's grasp as her fingers traced along the top of your waistband. "Y-yeah, it's fine Natasha. Just go watch TV or something…" The blush on your face is almost hot enough to cook the eggs. You don't even remember the last time someone made you this bashful. It was new. "I appreciate your offer though," You mumbled, unsure how to carry on the conversation.

"You're still shy even after last night?" Natasha asked teasingly. Her fingertips slipped into your boxers but didn't move much further past the waistband. She pushed her hips against your ass just enough for you to feel the pressure. "I think I like being right here, just like this." She whispered into your ear. Her eyes looked off to the side with a knowing smirk.

The whole scene made Wanda sick with jealousy. Her stomach churned every time you laughed at one of Natasha's jokes. Succubus couldn't throw up, but she. would've already. You were hers even if you didn't know it yet.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You felt like you were going mad.

It was getting harder to suppress your attraction to Wanda. You wish you could blame it on her interest in human clothes or all the cuddling, but neither of those was the problem. It was all your perverted tendencies. Every time Wanda crossed your mind it was always something sexual. These thoughts weren't brief either. Once you started one of your sick little fantasies, it was hard to stop. You were washing 20 pairs of underwear a week with how much precum you were leaving.

Your growing relationship with the demon only made things more complicated. Wanda seemed to become more physically affectionate by the day. Her human form was cute but it was her natural form that seemed to be giving you the most trouble. The shock of meeting a demon for the first time had worn off and you began to notice the small details. If your dick would appreciate them as well.

The only thing it seemed to care about was how big Wanda was. Especially when she was using you as her body pillow. The softness of her breast pressed against your chest and it was driving you mad. You were so focused on not getting a boner that you completely drowned out the noise from the movie.

As fun as watching you squirm and wiggle, Wanda had waited long enough.

She sat up on your lap, straddling your hips with her thighs. Wanda's hand slipped underneath your shirt to keep you pinned to the couch. Her claws lightly scratched at the sensitive skin. "It's cute you think I can't tell how turned on you are right now." A satisfied chuckle escaped her lips as you sucked your breath. "Don't think I haven't heard all those nasty little thoughts in your heads."

Your eyes followed Wanda's fingers nervously. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me!" She toyed with the hem of your shorts. You were at a loss for words. It wasn't like you could deny your feelings with your dick hard as a rock. “I know we’re like roommates, but we don’t have to do anything!” Embarrassment wasn't good enough to describe how you were feeling. You wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and disappear.

Wanda ripped off your shorts in one swift motion. “Oh detka, I want to be something more than just roommates.” Her long tongue licked the precum oozing from your neglected tip. It left a savory taste in her mouth that she couldn't help but enjoy. “God you don’t know how hard it was to live knowing you were wasting this stuff on girls who couldn’t make you feel half as good as I do.” Her free hand massaged your balls as she took your length inside her mouth. They weren’t as full as she would’ve liked them to be, but Wanda knew she would have access to them whenever she wanted them. Self-control was quickly flying out the window. Her hunger was starting to take over and she no longer had it in her to go slow for your sake. Wanda needed your cum and she needed a lot of it. “Do you know the best part of having sex with a succubus?”

The pleasure alone had your head spinning. “W-what?” It wasn’t a response to her question, but rather a moment of shock at Wanda’s confession. You weren’t well versed in the land of demons, but you didn’t think Wanda was anything like that. Was she gonna eat you? Maybe you should’ve asked more questions rather than worrying about her paying rent.

Her hand wrapped around your dick and began stroking slowly. She leaned forward to whisper in your ear. “I know exactly how to fuck you senseless.” Wanda hooked your legs over her shoulders. This time, Wanda's tongue went straight for your asshole. She watched your eyes roll to the back of your head with a satisfied smirk. No one's ever fucked you this way. It's almost impossible for her tongue fuck you the way she'd like but your whining makes up for it.

You're a mess. It felt like your insides were melting, but you were too overstimulated to even consider pushing back. You were usually the one on top and doing all the teasing. Now it was near impossible for you to speak without moaning and stumbling over your own words. "F-fuck, I'm close. Please don't stop, I'm gonna cum!" Your hands grabbed Wanda by her horns and pulled her closer to your ass.

Wanda hummed against you. You looked so cute when you were desperate to cum. She pushed your shirt up to your chest and signaled for you to hold it up. Of course, you do it without question. That mindless obedience would get you far. Wanda's tongue pressed down against your prostate. Milking you was a bit much for your first time doing anal, but Wanda wasn't going to hold back.

You couldn't even speak. It was just a string of desperate moans in place of words. The knot in your stomach bubbled up and snapped suddenly. Cum shot out of you in sticky, hot ropes. Your orgasm was almost never ending. Every time you thought it was over, she'd keep pushing you.

Wanda kept milking you until you'd gone soft. Her tongue slipped out of your hole. She wasted no time licking up the cum dripping down your chest and stomach. A deep, guttural moan escaped her lips at the taste of your cum. Her eyes glowed a deep red for a brief second. Wanda looked into your eyes and smirked. "I never want to see you with anyone else. Got it?"

You looked into her eyes and suddenly felt so tired. It was like a trance. There were a lot of questions going through your mind but you were too weak to ask any of them. "Got it." Was the only thing you could manage to say.

Wanda affectionately scratched your head. You were like a pet to her. "Let's get you cleaned up," She kissed your cheek before lifting you up and taking you to your bedroom.

You were grateful for her immense strength and gentleness. There was no way you'd be able to walk all the way to your room after that. You only vaguely heard Wanda's request that you not fall asleep while she prepared a bath for you. As tired as you were, there was something subconsciously urging you to stay awake as she requested. You rolled over slowly when Wanda returned from the bathroom. "Are you like…in my head forever now?" You asked sleepily.

Your question caught Wanda off guard. She didn't answer your question at first. Instead, she rolled you onto your stomach. It was only then that she had the answer to your question. "It appears so." She said calmly. Her fingers traced the tattoo now permanently etched into your skin. "Don't worry, I'll be kind to you..if you behave."

[svtcrus]

───── `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 BABY LOVE ME EVENT SERIES

DRAGON OUT OF WATER || NEUVILLETTE X AFAB!READER

SMUT , MDNI

NOTE : neuvi is implied a dragon [not physically] nothing beyond that plot, dom!neuvilette , semi public s3x (they fuck at a lake), rough play , fingering , overstimulation , big pp

synopsis : you & neuvillette are having a date at a secret lake in fontaine, & things end up getting a little heated with the hydro dragon.

neuvillette had suggested the idea of taking you out to this secret lake, secluded from all eyes. he was still learning on how unique humans can be. interacting and creating relationships with humans wasn't his best skill but he tries his best everyday.

this intimate relationship he has with you is a whole new world for him, he's learnt to love through you. and garner quite a lot of human knowledge from you.

moreover neuvillette has also experienced new emotions that leave him quite flustered at times.

he was like a fish out of water .

these fluttery feelings which leave him so hot inside him has him confused. unbeknownst he's thinking such ludicrous fantasies of you, a surge of heat building up from within. however, neuvillette forces himself to hold back, for he doesn't want to be pleading guilty at you for such pervertedness. you were too much of an angel.

this date was intended to be a peaceful romantic time between the two of you. no ill intentions at all. so why is your dragon of a boyfriend walking his way to you with a dark look in his lavender eyes?

it wasn't supposed to end up like this.

but when neuvillette saw you in your skimpy little swimsuit it was like a fire had lit inside him— he could feel his dick swell at the sight.

making the attempt to "put out" this heat by swimming, he'd expected to feel okay right after, since it's worked before whenever stressed. except he didn't. instead he felt worse, and the tent that was growing in his shorts wasn't helping his case either.

"archons.. I can't hold back anymore. c'mere." those slender fingers of his are grabbing either side of your face, forcefully bringing you in for a kiss. your gasp is replaced with a sudden moan, neuvillette uses this to push his tongue into your mouth. the kiss is sloppy albeit. nevertheless his soft lips are melting so easily with yours with such passion, it's making you wet.

your hands are tangling into his wet silver locks, droplets of water are dripping from his toned body onto your own. his free hand is gripping your waist with such obscene force, to simply lay you down on the mat.

only then he feels the tug on his roots that he finally pulls away.

"I.. I couldn't help myself.." he claims— you're both panting, desperately in need for oxygen. lips are swollen, cheeks burning red. your face is displaying something he hasn't seen before.

he's thinking he's screwed up.

"I.. forgive me y/n I shouldn't ha-"

"don't stop." you cut him off. pushing yourself back up, hands grabbing onto his to guide them back across your body. they trace from your hips, to your waist, then to your chest. lewd sounds are slowly leaving those plump lips of yours, his hands unconsciously fondling your breasts through your swimsuit.

"it's okay neuvi.. mm. just touch me like that.." again that flame is ignited, and he's leaning back into you for another kiss. this time its more gentle.

it wasn't supposed to end up like this.

the lustful dragon is now fingering your sopping entrance, in broad daylight. ramming you with three whole fingers, you already felt so full. yet so hungry at the same time.

"like this? do you like it when I do this ma belle?" there he was with that nickname. my beautiful. so shy, so beautiful atop of him. straddled on his lap, movements are feverish, and chasing for a release. your arms are thrown over his broad shoulders all while your whimpers, whines, cries, call out his name.

"neuvillette!"

a loud moan escapes you, the chief is sucking in a breath watching you quiver from his fingers alone. he's never seen someone at his mercy like this before. the heaving, your head on his shoulder, nails digging into his pale skin. cunt all sloppy and wet just for him— fuck.

the way his fingers circle your drenched cunt before entering your tight hole to fuck you once more. he's persistent to make you cum once more, overstimulating your poor pussy.

"m'stop baby.. please~! I need—hngh!" you can barely let out coherent words. look at you. so fucked to the point you cannot even think of anything besides him? how cute.

"what is it do you need sweetheart? hm?" his fingers that are covered in your slick begins to wriggle out his length. lubricating his cock with your sweet juices. not to mention that he's hard, unbelievably hard.

"do you want this ma belle? want me to fill you up?" what comes out of your mouth is another whimper, your mind is too hazy to respond. he lets out a chuckle— oh archons he wants to devour you whole.

then and there along the lake shoreline, this beastly man is rutting himself into you. your pleasantries provide him with furthermore motivation to continue fucking into your velvet walls.

muscular arms around your waist, inhaling your sugary scent, it's got him growling while his cock pounds in and out of you.

you're sucking him in so well, squeezing around his girth like you're asking him for more. this. this feeling. he doesn't want to forget it, nor does he want to stop it.

rather than a fish, neuvillette was a dragon out of water, whose found himself addicted to your whole body.

@svtcrus || 08.19.23 ; BABY LOVE ME EVENT

©️ all rights reserved. do not copy / plagiarize , modify or use my work .

[amongemeraldclouds]

Things I’ll Never Say

Why say things out loud when you can write them all down in a journal? No need to inconvenience everyone else with silly declarations of love that’s only guaranteed to break your heart. So what happens when your enemy - of all people - finds it?

Lorenzo Berkshire x Reader

“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”

Thanks to @thatdammchickennugget for the prompt. Here's my official entry for the Hogmarch challenge, prompt one. 1k words.

Author’s note: The way I screamed when this idea came to mind! Journaling is such a big part of my life, I’ll take any and every chance I can to incorporate it to my stories.

Indented text are journal entries.

Warning: Cursing, no use of y/n, slight angst but it’s kinda cute. Fluff express coming through!

✿ Masterlist

“Stop copying my notes!” I hiss at Lorenzo, moving my arm to cover my parchment.

“Come on, I missed class today. I need to catch up,” he says, tugging at the arm of my sweater.

“Go ask your friends,” I retort, moving my arm away from his grasp.

“You know they’re not in that class, just you,” he insists.

“Oh we’re not friends,” I deadpan.

“It won’t take long,” he tries again.

“If you weren’t busy sleeping around with everyone, Berkshire. You would have made it to class this morning.”

 He leans in to my ear and whispers, “I’ll make it worth your while.”

I grab the nearest hardbound book and swing it in his direction. Thwack! It strikes his shoulder.

The librarian looks at us sternly. “Your final warning was just given five minutes ago. No noise in the library!” She points her finger to the exit, “You two, out!”

“Great. Thanks for that, Berkshire. Good luck with your notes.” My face gets hot with embarrassment as I gather my things and rush off to the exit.

Enzo spots a black leather bound journal in the area you just vacated. He takes it with him as he exits the library. She’s always writing in this notebook. I’m sure she won’t mind if I take a peek, I’ll give it back to her anyway.

He damn well knew you would mind. When he reaches a quiet corner of the hallway, he proceeds to turn the cover anyway.

I know, I know. I’m not supposed to like Lorenzo Berkshire. Why the fuck did I just draw a heart over the “i”! That’s it. I’m losing my mind! I can’t be caught liking the boy who spewed the word mudblood in my direction our first year. Like it’s my fault I was born into my family. And screw him okay, muggles are awesome. I can break my own heart with my misguided affections, but I’d rather die before I ever let him break my heart. So before I check myself into a mental asylum, I need to just say this somewhere. Anywhere. A last ditch effort to save my sanity.

He’s the intrusive thought I love to entertain in my head.

As a dare, he took off his shirt at the party. My toes curled. I pretended not to notice him.

I heard him laughing with his friends. I love the way it lit up his face.

I saw him enter his dorm hand in hand with a girl. I never wish to be her, another one night stand. Once would never be enough. 

I nearly kissed him again.

He helped me pick up the pile of books I dropped at the library. He seemed kind and concerned. Ha! Who am I kidding?

I count down the hours until I see him again.

Maybe in another lifetime it wouldn’t matter: bloodlines, social status, and hierarchies. So unnecessary.

I noticed the veins in his arm at quidditch practice. I tried not to bite my lip. What must it be like to be wrapped in those arms?

And there he was again with his stupid hair breaking my stupid heart.

Enzo hears determined footsteps approaching and he shuts the journal, hiding it behind him.

“Fine, Berkshire,” I sigh when I reach him. “Here, take my notes,” I say, handing it out to him.

He quirks an eyebrow.

“Weren’t you so desperate to get them earlier?” I fold my arms. “I will not be part of the reason you fail in class.” I point at him, “you and your dumb ass can very well do it yourself. I have more important things to worry about.”

“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”

My brain short circuits, the fire freezing in my veins. How the hell does he know?

He smirks, pulling out a familiar black journal. My eyes widen.

“On second thought,” I say, stepping back. “It doesn’t matter,” I turn around and walk away. “Fail class for all I care.”

I’m yanked back when I feel Enzo’s grip on my wrist. “Wait.”

My heart thumps in my chest. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. He knows!

“I’m sorry,” he says. What? I turn back, my confused expression directed at him.

“That I called you a mudblood,” he explains. “I was a dumb ass when we were younger.”

“Finally, we agree on something,” I state, trying to mask the tremble in my voice.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you back then and I was prejudiced. Over the years, I enjoyed watching your passion for magic and studying. How you light up when you talk to your friends about a book you just read. And how you’re always the first to volunteer when someone needs help. You have this fire and warmth in you and I just need to be around it all the time. I’m reduced to being a moth to your flame and I don’t mind it at all.”

I blink, speechless.

He takes a step forward, voice softening. “Why do you think I tease you all the time?”

“Well how the fuck was I supposed to know?” The anger not quite there in my voice.

“I just wanted a chance to talk to you and I thought you hated me.” He brushes the hair from my face and cups my face. “Clearly, I was wrong.”

I roll my eyes, “Oh no, I do hate you.” I falter, “but maybe I kind of, just sort of, like you too.”

He grins. “It seems there are things we need to talk about. Will you go on a date with me?”

My heart stutters. “You already know my answer.”

He laughs, “stubborn as always. I’ll take that as a yes.” He pulls me in for a hug. 

Oh. Being wrapped in his strong arms is even better than I imagined. I rest my head on his shoulder when a thought occurs to me.

“You’re sure this is not just some elaborate ploy for me to keep giving you my notes?”

He sighs, “of course not, just enjoy this moment."

He moves his mouth to my ear, "But if you do, I solemnly swear I will make it worth your while.”

I don't hit him this time.

✿ Masterlist

A/N: For those who get the Avril Lavigne title reference, here's a tight hug for you! ♡

I may or may not have also had a place where I wrote down love confessions for someone I couldn’t have. Some of those may or may not have been included in the journal entries.

Two fics published in one day? Who is she?

[de4dlyniightshade]

Maeve i had a little idea in my head that i wanted to share w you x

You and Spencer cuddling and he gets all needy and needs to put his dick in you but you don't feel like doing it so instead you compromise on cockwarming. He gets on top of you while doing it and you continue to caress his head and back (i'm torturing myself w these thoughts help)

꩜ PAIRING: spencer reid x afab!reader

꩜ RATING: +18, mdni

꩜ WARNINGS/CONTAINS!: cockwarming, needy!spence, subby spence, morning shenanigans, spencer being a little bit feral and forgetting how big(😏)he is, grinding/dry humping, reader mentioned to be smaller than spencer but can be taken as just height wise.

© to de4dlyniightshade. no translations/reposts.

[WARNING!] - explicit sexual content! mdni!

A/N: i always forget that blurbs aren't supposed to be perfect but i also feel bad putting out mediocre stuff😔

spencer felt bad for being so needy so early in the morning but the dream he woke up from had him throbbing in his pants and he just couldn't help but wrap his arm around your waist and press himself into your back, his hard length slotting perfectly between your ass.

he gently rolled his hips into your plush ass, placing soft kisses on your shoulder as he did, breathy moans and whimpers slipping past his lips as he shallowly rutted into you.

"spence, if you're trying not to wake me you're doing a really shit job" you laughed sleepily, lifting your hand to hold the back of his head as he rested his forehead on the nape of your neck, still gently grinding into you.

"n-need you" he breathed, his hips snapping into you as he let out a shaky whimper, nuzzling his face into you.

"it's 6 in the morning, spencer" you sighed, halfheartedly trying to move away from him but with no real intention of making him stop.

"please..." he whined, grinding particularly hard into you and squeezing your waist, "j-just- wanna feel you" he breathed against your neck, pressing an open mouthed kiss there, followed by another and another.

you let out a fake sigh, rolling onto your back and turning to face him, the small amount of sunlight peeking through the curtains illuminating his face just enough for you to see the needy expression on his features, his pleading eyes looking down at you.

"alright alright" you you mumbled, shaking your head as you lifted your hips off the bed, hooking your fingers into the waistband of your underwear and tugging them down your legs, dropping them on the floor as spencer quickly moved between your parted thighs, pulling the front of his plaid pyjama pants down just enough to free his length.

"slow down there, mister" you giggled breathily, pressing your hand to his chest to stop him as he tried to surge forward, desperate to bury his cock in you but your hand on his chest didn't stop him from gripping your hips and tugging you down the bed, quickly moving to hold the base of his length and guide his tip to your entrance, pushing in all at once.

spencer choked out a moan as you gasped loudly, the stinging of him stretching you out without any prepping making your thighs clamp around his waist, your eyes screwing shut as the dull throbbing wracked your body.

"spence!" you scolded as your walls clenched and spasmed around him, desperately trying to adjust to the abrupt stretch.

"s-sorry, 'm sorry" he whined, dropping his forehead to your chest as he breathed heavily, his hands squeezing your waist to keep himself composed, his larger frame doubled over on top of you reminding you that he wasn't as small as you made him feel and he could actually overpower you whenever he wanted.

"j-just feel s-so good- d-did't mean to h-hurt you" he whimpered against your skin, his voice strained as your walls surrounded him, constricting his sensitive cock so nicely.

"i know, i know, j-just lay down, careful" you instructed as you wrapped your arms around his neck, spencer slowly and carefully, like you'd told him, lay down on top of you, resting his cheek on your breasts as you hissed slightly at the feeling of his cock shifting in you.

you let out a quiet sigh as the dull pain subsided and all that was left was the feeling of him filling you so nicely, your walls wrapped tightly around his length, his tip brushing cervix and you couldn't help but let out a breathy whine as you let your fingers comb through his hair and stroke down his back.

[megxplryxb]

For you, I would ruin myself

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, mentions of Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Allusions to cheating but not really, Mutual pining, Idiots in love, Love confessions, Angst, Heartbreak

Author's notes: Hi lovely people, I'm really sorry I haven't been around lately. Well, who am I kidding, I've been pretty MIA since March. The writers block was kicking my ass and the motivation just wasn't there but I've had so many ideas lately and this one was unfinished in my drafts for way too long so finally got around to completing it over the past few days. I'm not in love with the ending, but I do like that it's not the usual happy ending I always do. Please be kind, I'm a little rusty. x

Another Friday evening, another failed date, Steve thought to himself as he climbed into his BMW with a deflated sigh, leaning back against the headrest. He’d been on three dates in the past month and it was starting to feel a little mundane and pointless. Three different candidates, three different bouquets of flowers, three different venues but none of them had developed into anything further. He was completely used to the routine by now, picking them up from their house, paying for the meal or for the movie, making some awkward conversation before sharing a kiss that made him feel absolutely nothing inside. He’d tell the girl he was sorry, that he didn't see it going anywhere between them before offering her a ride home or pay for a cab and head back to his house alone.

It's not that the girls weren't pretty, or that their personalities were dull or that they’d done anything wrong necessarily. The issue was Steve and his lack of real interest in getting to know any of them romantically, 'cause there was someone else consuming his thoughts and he couldn't get her out of his fucking mind. He pressed his forehead to the steering wheel, cursing at himself for being so off of his game, for being so distracted by someone he knew he couldn't have. Steve used to be a pro at dating, he could get any girl he wanted, whenever he wanted just by clicking his damn fingers. But he wasn't that guy anymore and this time he couldn't get the girl either. The girl he really fucking wanted. Frustrated, he pulled out of the parking lot, turning up the radio before leaving Enzo's and another unsuccessful date in the rear view mirror.

He picked up a case of beer from the liquor store and contemplated going home to drown his sorrows alone. He thought about going to Robin's too but knew she'd chew him out for screwing up yet another date that she had to convince him to go on in the first place. He wasn't even sure his best friend would want to see him after their stupid argument in Family Video earlier, so he decided against the idea and kept on driving.

"Steve, you have to move on from this fixation you have with her. You and her are never gonna happen, it can't happen, you know that right?"

"Yeah I know Robin, alright? Jesus Christ, can you please stop talking about it?”

"Look, I'm sorry ok? I know I'm being a total pain in the ass but I'm just worried about you. I know how you get when you fall for someone and I don't want to see you get hurt or mess up a really good friendship because of–"

"I get it Robin, fuck, I'm trying to get over it, over her, I really am. I've distanced myself as much as I can without making it totally obvious that something’s up. What else do you want me to do, huh?"

"I don't know, Steve! I'm just trying to help. I'm trying to be your friend and make you see that this doesn't have a happy ending for you.”

“You don’t think I know how this ends for me? How it always ends? I’m well aware of how this goes Robin, so please just…don’t, ok?”

Steve felt horrible for fighting with Robin. He felt like shit for taking his frustrations out on her but she just wouldn't stop talking about the situation and the consequences he would face if he ever acted on his feelings. He already felt bad enough about it, he didn’t need her reminding him every five god damn minutes that he couldn’t have the thing he wanted the most. Of course, he'd apologise to her tomorrow with ice cream and chocolate along with the promise of being her personal chauffeur for the next month straight because deep down he knew she was right.

After a while of driving around, Steve found himself at the entrance of Forrest Hills trailer park. His fingers dancing on the steering wheel as he bit his lip, thinking about whether or not he should just keep going. Eddie had been on his ass lately about never seeing him, wondering if he'd done or said something to piss Steve off, trying to arrange a boys night so they could catch up but Steve kept putting him off until the metal head eventually quit asking. Christ, Munson wouldn’t want to hang out with him ever again if he knew the reason why Steve was avoiding him in the first place. But Robin was right, he had to get over it and cutting himself off from everyone wasn’t going to help anything.

"Fuck it." Steve muttered, as he drove through the gates and made his way into the trailer park, hoping he wouldn’t regret his decision later on, praying it wasn’t a total mistake coming here.

The gravel crunched under his tyres as the car came to a halt outside of Eddie's trailer just as the sun had finally set on the little town of Hawkins, Indiana. Switching off his ignition, he grabbed the case of beer before stepping out of the car, walking around to the back of the trailer but quickly noticing that neither Waynes car or Eddie’s van were anywhere to be found. He could however, see a flicker of light escaping through the curtains and hear the chorus of Shout by Tears for Fears coming from inside, causing his heart to beat a little faster, skin feeling a little hotter, cause he knew who was inside and he needed to get out of there immediately.

"Shit." Steve whispered, hurrying back to his car, placing the box of beer onto the passenger seat hoping his presence hadn't been noticed by the one person he had been trying so desperately hard to stay away from all this time. But the creak of the trailer door opening behind him told him he was already too late as he turned around to see you standing there, arms folded, head tilted, smiling at him.

"Hey stranger, long time no see."

Steve swallowed hard, instantly feeling more butterflies in his stomach just from seeing you for the first time in weeks than he had from any of his dates in the past month. He didn’t know how it was possible but he was certain you’d gotten even prettier in his absence. Your usual flowy hair clipped back into a messy bun, sun kissed legs on show in your tiny denim shorts, finished off by an oversized Metallica T-shirt that most definitely belonged to your boyfriend...To Eddie, one of Steve's best friend’s. The one and only reason he could never tell you how he really felt.

“Yeah, I guess it’s been a while, huh?” He chuckled nervously as you made your way down the steps, towards his car.

“A while? It’s been forever. I think I was even starting to miss you.” You tease, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into the warmest of hugs. His whole body tenses with the feeling of you so close to him and he swore his heart stopped for a moment as he took in your scent. You were ice cream on hot summer days, cocoa on cold winter nights and everything he knew he could ever want or need.

It wasn’t unlike you to hug him, you’d always been affectionate and touchy but it felt different this time, like you needed it as much as he did. So he finally relaxed his body, allowing his arms to find their way around your waist, chin resting on your head, keeping you close for what felt like several minutes.

“Yeah, I missed you too.” So much, he thinks to himself as you eventually break apart.

“So, beer huh? I take it you were looking for Eddie?” You ask, noticing the box in Steve’s BMW.

“Uh, yeah…he’s been asking me to come hang out for a couple of weeks but I’ve just been super busy with work and stuff. Finally had some free time, so I thought I’d take him up on the offer before he completely disowned me.” Steve jokes as you let out a small laugh.

“Poor guys been like a lost puppy without you. Honestly, its getting embarrassing. I’m clearly not enough for him.” You sigh sarcastically as Steve shakes his head.

“I highly doubt that honey.” He replies truthfully, voice in the back of his mind screaming that you’d be enough for him. That you’ve always been enough for him.

You look away from him, placing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, hoping he hasn't caught the slight tint of pink creeping onto your cheeks with his tiny compliment.

“Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you but he’s playing with the band at the Hideout tonight.” You shrug, tugging on your bottom lip.

“That’s cool, I totally should have checked first anyway. I’ll catch him another time.” Steve replies, playing with his car keys.

“Y’know, Eddie’s not the only one who likes beer or do you just not want to hang out with me?” You smile, raising a brow and god he knows he’s in trouble. He knows he should shake his head, make up some excuse and run for the hills but he can’t. Not when you’re looking at him like that, like you want him to stay and fuck he really wants to.

“Of course I want to hang out with you, I just don’t want to be imposing.” He explains as you scoff.

“Imposing? Please, I could really do with a break, I’ve been cleaning this place all day for Wayne before he gets back into town tomorrow. Eddie’s a total pig, I swear he’s lucky he’s cute.” You laugh but Steve doesn’t really laugh with you. He hates that you think Eddie is cute, hates the way you say his name. Hates that he has no right to feel so jealous but he can’t help it. Because it was Steve’s own fucking fault for not telling you how he felt months ago, when he had a real chance to make you his before Eddie went and beat him to it.

“So, are you coming in or?” You ask, eyes wide as you start walking back towards the trailer.

This was Steve’s chance to run, to get into his car and go home like he’d originally planned to do. Why hadn’t he just done that in the first place? Why did he think coming to Eddie’s was such a good idea and how the fuck had he ended up alone with you? Robin would fucking kill him if she could see him now. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be here. You should have been working in the Hideout like you did every Friday night since you left Family Video and him behind all those months ago.

“Steve?” You call again when you don’t hear his footsteps following you.

“Huh? Oh, yeah sorry, I’ll just grab the beers.” He finally answers, smiling at you as you nod happily, heading back inside.

Steve curses at himself, knowing he couldn’t leave now, it’d be too obvious. You were his friend just as much as Eddie, the only problem was, he didn’t want Eddie like he wanted you.

When he finally joined you inside, you were rummaging through a drawer to find a bottle opener that Wayne kept in there for safe keeping. Steve tries to look anywhere but at you as his body stood stiff in the doorway while you made your way towards the couch, plonking your tired body down. He could tell you’d been cleaning all day, the trailer unrecognisable from the usual mess Eddie had it in. Fresh hoover lines apparent on the spotless carpet, laundry washed and folded, pillows puffed, trash emptied and the countertops cleared and wiped down. There was even a scent of lavender in the air, compared to the usual smell of motor oil and cigarettes.

“You can sit down you know?” You smirk as Steve smiles, shaking his head.

"Sorry, I was just momentarily distracted by the fact that I could actually see the floor in here for once.” He jokes, placing the alcohol on the side table as you giggle, feeling him slump down beside you, letting out a heavy breath.

“Hi.” Steve smiles, turning his head towards you, resting his eyes on your porcelain face. It’s unfair how good you look right now, so effortlessly beautiful with your hair up and no make up on. Christ, you could be on the cover of any magazine, he thinks to himself.

“Hi.” You smile back, nudging your knee with his playfully and Steve’s thankful you can’t hear how fast his heart is beating just from the slightest bit of contact.

“Beer?” He offers, ripping open the box to grab two bottles.

“Thought you’d never ask, Harrington.” You tease, taking one from his hand, passing him the bottle opener.

“Cheers.” He grins nervously, clinking his drink with yours before he takes a large swig.

Forty minutes pass and you're both already on your second drink, catching up and talking as if no time at all had gone by. It had always been that way between you both, effortless and easy and Steve knew it was dangerous territory. He so quickly forgot all of the reasons why he shouldn't be here with you right now when your leg was brushing against his own, your head thrown back in a fit of laughter as he recalled an embarrassing story about Keith from the previous week and Christ, he had missed your infectious laugh.

He had missed everything about you.

He couldn't remember the last time you two had been alone together, it had to have been a couple of months at least and it felt nice that he had you all to himself for a little while without any distractions. Some of his favourite times had been your shifts together at Family Video, making each other laugh non stop, discussing the latest gossip of the town while stacking the shelves, taste testing the new candy when Keith left early like he always did and making up little games to play on nights where the hours just seemed to drag. You brightened up the store every time you walked in, made work fun and bearable and he looked forward to any shift that he got to spend with you.

That was until you went and left of course.

Steve had been utterly devastated the day Robin told him you'd given your two weeks to Keith, confused as to why you hadn't told him yourself and a little hurt that he was the last to know. He remembers Eddie coming to pick you up on your last day, a shit eating grin on his face now that you were going to work at the Hideout, meaning he'd get to see his new girlfriend way more while Steve got to see you much less. He had to clench his fists as he watched you walk out the door with Eddie, forcing a smile as you looked over your shoulder, giving him one last look before waving goodbye with tears in your eyes. He wanted so badly for you to change your mind, wanted to beg you to reconsider but Robin reminded him that it was for the best, hoping it would give Steve the time he needed to get over you.

“Y’know I was really starting to worry about you, was even thinking about setting up a search party.” You giggle, taking Steve away from him thoughts as he rolls his eyes playfully.

“I’m flattered you were so concerned about me.”

“I’m serious! I kept asking Dustin about you but he said he hadn’t seen you much either.”

“Well if you hadn’t left Family Video to go work with your boyfriend, you’d still see me everyday.” Steve responds in a tone that’s half teasing/half bitter and he winces seeing how taken aback you are by his comment

“Eddie’s not the reason I left, Steve.” You reply, pressing the bottle to your lips. If only he knew the real reason.

“Oh come on, why else would you leave? I can’t imagine it was for the scenic views or massive wage increase.” He scoffs sarcastically as you avoid his gaze.

“It was just time for me to move on.” You shrug, tugging on your bottom lip, wishing he would drop this topic.

“What do you mean? I thought you liked working at the Video store?” He quizzes, confused by your answer.

“I did, I loved it there but I just needed a change.”

“But that doesn’t make any—”

“Steve, can we please drop it?” You beg, your lips turning downward in a frown as you fidget with the hem of your boyfriends t-shirt.

“Yeah—yeah sure, sorry. I didn’t mean to be an asshole about it, it’s just that…I miss you. I mean, we miss you, Robin and I.” He swallows hard as you smile at him, your cheeks turning hot at his words.

“I miss you too, Steve. Both of you.” You reveal before a silence falls over the room for a moment.

"Are you hungry? You wanna order a pizza or I’m pretty sure there’s potato chips in the cupboard if you want some? You ask, finally easing the tension between you.

"I'm good. I had dinner in Enzo's a while ago.” Steve mumbles.

"Ah, I thought you were a little too dressed up just to come here and get drunk with Eddie. Were you on a date or something?" You question, raising your brows suspiciously at him, trying to ignore the knot forming in your stomach.

"Third one this month." He sighs, taking another sip of beer, completely missing the subtle hint of jealousy that flashes across your face momentarily.

"Wow, three dates huh? You must really like her." You force a smile, taking a drink from your own bottle as he huffs and shakes his head.

"Oh, it wasn't with the same girl. I meant three different dates, all equally terrible though." Steve confesses, a heavy sigh escaping his lips and you hate the relief you feel when you hear him say it.

"You really have been busy, no wonder we haven’t seen you lately." You say sarcastically as Steve remains silent, trying to hold himself back from saying everything he wanted to. He wants to tell you the reason you haven’t seen him is because he’s terrified of his feelings for you. That the reason he's going on so many dates is so he can try and move on from you. He wants to tell you that he’s terrified of ruining his friendships because he can’t stop thinking about you, that he can't stand seeing you with Eddie, because every time he sees his friend kiss you, he wants to punch his lights out, ‘cause you're supposed to be his girl. But he's too fucking late. He missed his chance with you and it's something he's going to have to live with for the rest of his life.

“So, what was so terrible about them?" You ask, turning to face him as he sits back trying to think of how best to answer that question. The only real answer he has to give is that they weren't you and nothing after that really mattered. He plays with the paper wrapped around his bottle, tearing it off bit by bit as you burn a hole through his head, waiting for a response. He's too afraid to look at you, terrified that if he does, it'll give him away and you'll figure it out for yourself, that he's completely and utterly head over heels in love with you.

"I uh, I guess none of them were really for me." He shrugs, keeping his eyes on the carpet below as you gaze at your friend sympathetically, knowing that feeling all too well.

"I'm sure you'll know the one when she comes along, Steve." You reassure, placing your hand on his knee as he lets out a dry laugh.

"I did." He mutters, taking the last sip from the bottle as you stare at him.

"What do you mean you did?" You question, tilting your head as his eyes widen in panic. Shit. He didn't mean for you to hear that, didn't mean to say it out loud. Had the two beers already gone to his fucking head?

"I– I just meant..." He pauses for a moment to look at you, really look at you as he thinks about what to say next. How does he get himself out of this? Should he just tell you the truth? Was now the right time to say it? Was being here alone with you a sign that he should just come out and tell you how he feels? Was it worth taking that risk?

"You're talking about Nancy, right?" You frown, releasing a heavy sigh as he contemplates how to respond. His stomach is sick that you think he still cares for Nancy in that way, he hasn't given her a second thought since you came along and took his breath away but maybe it was better for you to think that instead of him ruining his friendship with you, instead of ruining his friendship with Eddie. Because after all, he'd rather have you in his life as a friend than not have you in it at all. That would truly kill him.

"Yeah, I...I'm talking about Nancy." He lies and your heart sinks all over again.

Of course he's talking about Nancy. Robin had told you all about the girl Steve had been in love with for years during your first shift alone with her at Family Video. How she was the only girl he'd ever loved, how he'd changed his ways for her in High School and how he still wanted a whole brood of mini Harrington's with her even though she’d broken his heart. When you eventually did meet Nancy though, you fully understood what he saw in her. She was beautiful, smart and perfect, everything a guy like Steve Harrington could ever want.

Everything you felt you weren’t.

“Steve, if it’s Nancy you really want, maybe it’s time to just be honest with her?” You suggest, trying to stop yourself from falling to pieces in front of him.

Steve finally lifts his head to lock eyes with yours, your words starting to replay in his mind “maybe it’s time to just be honest with her.”

“How can I tell her how I feel when she’s with somebody else?” He asks, his stomach in knots, his insides twisting as he watches you chew on your bottom lip.

“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel the same way about you, maybe she’s just really good at hiding it.” You shrug defeated, as he tries to read your face for an answer to a question that’s kept him up late at night. Could it be possible that you have feelings for him too? That you’ve been just as good at hiding them as he has? Maybe even better?

“You…you think she could feel the same way about me?” He asks, finally sitting up, turning towards you fully.

“I guess there’s really only one way to find out.” You reply, forcing a smile, hoping you don’t look too devastated as you stand up to collect the empty bottles from the coffee table. Needing to remove yourself from this conversation fast.

Just as you reach out to grab the first one, you feel Steve’s warm hand softly wrap around yours, holding you in place as he stares at you petrified.

“Steve, what—”

“It’s not Nancy.” He interrupts, a total look of despair on his face as he takes a deep breath. You’re eyeing him in utter confusion as you take a seat beside him again.

“What do you mean it’s not Nancy? I don’t under—”

“I’m in love with you.” He finally confesses, the words falling from his mouth too fast for him to catch, to hold back and bury deep beneath the surface again and for the first time in months he feels like he can finally breathe again. Unfortunately for Steve, the relief only lasts a couple of seconds as panic sets in and he realises that he's just confessed to loving his best friend's girlfriend.

He’s too afraid to look at your face, terrified of what your reaction will be, so instead, he keeps his eyes glued to the floor, ashamed of himself for putting you in this predicament. He's completely fucked everything up.

“I'm sorry, please don't hate me. The last thing I intended to do tonight was tell you that I love you. Fuck, I didn't even think you'd be here, you weren't supposed to be here! I've just been trying to stay away from you hoping that these stupid feelings would just go away you know? But it's been so hard and I missed you and then I show up here looking for Eddie but then I see you after so long and I just couldn't keep it in any longer, it's been killing me for months." Steve rambles, placing his hands over his face as you sit frozen in silence.

"I think it's probably for the best if I go." He says, standing up to leave you alone, grabbing his keys from the countertop.

"So you just drop a bomb on me like that and think you just get to walk away?" You say, finally finding your voice, rising to your feet.

"I just thought maybe you'd want some space or maybe you'd never want to see me again." Steve shrugs. noticing the utter shock on your face.

"We live in Hawkins Steve, we have the same friends. I don't think never seeing each other again is a realistic option." You state, trying to take everything in. Steve lets out a sigh of relief, happy you haven't immediately jumped to cutting him out of your life yet.

"You said it's been killing you for months, how long is that exactly?" You question, suddenly finding it very hard to breathe. It's an easy answer for Steve as he knows the very moment he fell in love with you.

“Do you remember the day that really nice old man came into the store looking for a copy of Casablanca?" He asks as you nod your head, recalling it instantly. It's something you'd never forget.

The man had come in on an unusually rainy day in the hopes of renting the movie he and his wife had watched together every year on the day of their wedding anniversary. He told you both of his wife's recent passing after a lengthy battle with an illness and how he had decided to bury their copy of the movie with her, so she could still watch it with him wherever she was.

"You took him for coffee on your lunch break that day knowing he was all alone while I looked for the movie in the back. You let him cry and talk about his wife even though you didn't know her. You gave him the time of day that no one else would have and when I found the movie, you told him to keep it and you took a twenty from your own purse to cover the cost. You told him you hoped one day you'd know a love like theirs and I remember thinking... fuck I'm so in love with that girl." Steve smiles, eyes glassy as you too have to wipe away the tears that had fallen down your cheeks.

"He still comes in you know? Asks about you all the time, wonders if I ever made a move. Called me a dumbass when I told him I missed my chance." He jokes, trying to make you smile but somehow the whole thing makes you angry.

"If you felt that way about me then, why didn't you tell me? That was months before I was even with Eddie, Steve!" You challenge, folding your arms as Steve runs a hand through his hair.

"I don't know, the timing just never seemed to be right."

"Oh please, we only worked together almost every day for over a year, we hung out almost every single night." You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"Well yeah but we were never really alone together. There was always someone else around, Keith, Robin, the kids, Eddie..."

"Come on Steve, those are bullshit excuses and you know it!" You argue as he shakes his head.

"It's not like it matters anyway, I mean, it's not like you felt the same way or anything!" He fights back as you stand silent, hand over your mouth, eyes on the floor.

That's when the penny finally drops for Steve.

"Shit, you did feel the same didn't you? You had feelings for me?" He questions softly as you wrap your arms around yourself, nodding a yes. He's been so blind, so stupid. How didn't he see this? How did you hide it so well?

"It's hardly that shocking, is it? I mean you're Steve Harrington, girls have been falling in love with you your whole life." You joke as Steve remains silent. "I didn't want to like you. Christ, when I started working at Family Video I expected to hate you but you weren't what I thought you'd be. You were funny and kind and caring and god, I saw how those kids worshipped you. It was only a matter of time really." You admitted. " There were times that I thought, 'maybe he likes me too' you know? But then Robin told me all about Nancy, how much you loved her, how you'd changed for her and I thought it was game over for me. She was just so perfect, I mean, how could I ever compete with someone like her?"

"There would never have been a contest, it would have been you every single time." Steve whispers, wanting to reach out for you.

"That's why you left Family Video isn't it? Cause you thought I still loved Nancy?" He asks as you nod again.

"I had to try to get over you."

"Did it work?"

"It doesn't matter Steve." You brush off the question, trying to walk away but he catches your hand gently.

"It matters to me."

"I'm with Eddie now. How I feel about you isn't going to change that." You state as Steve heavily accepts your words, however crushing they might be. He would always respect your decision, caring too much about you and Eddie to deliberately ruin your relationship.

"But if you weren't, and I had asked you out back then, would we be together now?" He asks, wiping the tears from your face. You already know the answer in your heart and you know Steve does too.

"Yeah, I think we would be. I know we would be." You assert as a single tear falls down his cheek. "But I can't do that to Eddie, I can't leave him."

"And I would never ask you to, honey. Fuck, I really messed this up." He sniffs as you shake your head. "We both did, Steve." You cry as he holds you close for several minutes.

"I better get going, I'm sure Munson will be home soon." He sighs, reluctantly letting you go, wishing he could keep you in his arms forever. He once again grabs his keys and heads for the front door as you follow close behind.

"Steve?"

"Hmm?"

"I do by the way, I do still love–" He cuts you off, pressing his lips lightly to yours for a brief moment before pulling away when he feels you kiss back, knowing if he'd waited a second longer, Eddie would arrive home to his best friend making love to his girlfriend.

"Please don't say it." Steve begs closing his eyes. "I'm trying to do the right thing here and walk away, if I hear you say that, I don't think I'll be able to leave without you." He whispers as you cup his face.

"Then you better go now because if you kiss me again, I don't think i'll have the strength to stop myself from going with you." You cry as he nods, exiting the trailer, walking back to his car, giving you one last look as he opens the BMW door. He smiles at you through glassy eyes, both of your hearts breaking as you wonder what could have been. Where does your friendship go from here? How are you supposed to forget about this night? How do you pretend that you aren't utterly and completely in love with each other?

"Goodnight honey."

"Goodnight Steve."