#;the lonely angel (ten)

[temsikfates]

verse tags drop

[smutoperator]

can you write ex gf minju? minju and you broke up cuz of college and you meet again years later but she has a family now but she cheats on her new husband with you.

Blast From The Past

Kim Minju x Male Reader

Tags: big dick worship, boss chair blowjob, cheating, college sweetheart, creampie, cum licking, (lots of) facefucking, future, home office, housewife, long time no see, mating press, milfju, multiple orgasms, passionate sex, pregnancy

Word count: 3918

April 29th, 2041

Twenty years ago, Minju endured her most heartbroken day of her life. Her group had just disbanded, and you decided to break up with her to focus on your college graduation. As the years passed, Minju transitioned from her days as an idol and actress and is now a 40-year-old housewife working from home in the real estate market.

Minju has got into a business marriage. Her husband is sterile but wanted kids, so she found other guys to inseminate her twice. At this point, this is basically ten times Korea's fertility rate, so her 4-member family really stands out from her co-workers, who are all single.

Today, Minju was lonely. Her husband was on a work trip abroad. She then suddenly remembered her former college sweetheart.

"Could you come to my house?" Minju texted you. You two had met a few times since breaking up, but she never allowed such intimacy, especially as a married woman. Something must have changed then, but you accepted her invitation anyway.

You arrived at Minju's house just as she was starting to work. Minju welcomed you with open arms, feeling even lonelier as she had just dropped her kids off at school. "Sit here; I'm not feeling that well today," she said, pointing to her work desk. "What happened?" you asked. "My husband is away, and I feel so done with my marriage that I think I need a divorce," she continued. "And do you want to talk about this with me?" you asked. "Maybe," she replied.

Minju turned off the computer and went to the kitchen to pick up something to eat. But she couldn't help but look at you sitting at her workplace. Some burning feelings from the past were starting to creep back into her mind. You looked so handsome to her. So much so that she made an impulsive move.

"I need a break," Minju knelt under her desk and started carressing the area around your pants. You thought this was a little weird, but flashes of your college days came up immediately. You didn't say anything. It's her house; she can do what she wants. You'll just follow this beautiful noona, just like you did when she was just turning 20.

Minju knew you always had some love left for her. She could notice your erection bulging and wanted to see it after so many years, licking it while still clothed and then unveiling it. She was amazed; you truly hadn't changed down there in 20 years. That cock was throbbing and was bigger than the whole radius of her face. Still with her workplace outfit on, Minju dove onto your tip, licking it like a baby who discovers a long-missing toy. She really wanted to make up for the lost time, admiring that length and enjoying every second of it. It was so beautiful. Better, it was so big.

Minju licked your shaft from top to bottom and put it in her mouth, hitting her tongue with your tip. You really liked how submissive she was to your cock. Her angelic face always hides the fact that she can get slutty in a snap, and the way she worshipped your member was incredible. You tuck her hair out to get a better view of her beautiful face as she sloppily works on that shaft, twisting and sucking it full of lust and spitting on it like she's sucking a lollipop. She keeps going for five straight minutes. No noises except her naughty tongue, giving that cock the work it deserves.

"Come here after lunch, but instead of my mouth, you'll be inside my pussy," Minju says. "Ok, but why after lunch and not now?" you ask. "I need to solve some problems first." Before she moves further, she needs to free herself from this boring housewife life. "I'm calling it quits," she tells her coworkers at their online meeting. Her divorce papers will be ready for her husband when he arrives. A new Minju is about to be unleashed. Well, an old Minju.

A few hours later, you return to Minju's house. This time, she greets you wearing the lingerie she had under her office attire in the morning. "Take your clothes off, and let's go straight to bed," she says. Passionate kisses follow; this is already much better than the boring sex her husband has been giving her for over a decade. Minju pushes you into her bed and resumes the blowjob she had started that morning.

"You're still so big after all these years," Minju praises your length and makes sure to work the whole extension of it, even pouring lube for an easier slide into her soft little hands. "I fucking love this huge cock," she tells you.

"What made you decide to get back in touch with me?" you ask just as she takes a little break from filling her mouth full of cock. "Eunbi and Yeji were really noticing how unhappy I was, but it's all gone with you back in my life," she says, moving towards swallowing your balls, and you let out a groan.

Minju was really happy that she listened to her friends counseling. Your cock was double the size of her husband and very responsive to her stimulation, growing bigger as she kept working her magic on it. "I don't know how it's even going to fit inside me; my pussy hasn't taken a cock this big in, I guess, 20 years," she says. She might be concerned about showing her age, but to you, she is just as beautiful as she was two decades ago.

"I want you to fuck my face; I gotta test if I can take it," Minju tells you with a smile. You are over the moon, seizing the opportunity to use her beautiful, sexy, and warm mouth as a training ground before you get in her pussy. You give her no relief whatsoever, treating Minju like the slut she is and plowing her mouth upwards as you love to see her beautiful face full of cock.

Minju coughs and gags all over your cock. The truth is, all those years made her lose some of her deepthroating skills. Despite trying the hardest to engulf your hard boner, she can only take it halfway in. But she keeps trying, letting you push her head further down it. Your enormous girth barely fits in her mouth, turning her face into a mess as you make it red.

Your cock is full of Minju's saliva. Doubts arise in her mind about whether she can still take it. All those years with a vanilla husband might never bring back the young foxy queen Minju of the past. She can barely take half of it without gagging.

"That's so fucking hot," she says. "Do it again," Minju says, showing she won't give up and that a little extra training can bring her old self back. She closes her eyes and loosens herself up as more and more of your length goes down her throat, until she finally manages to deepthroat that anaconda for the first time in a long while.

"You still got it," you say, praising her. In the end, Minju is still the most beautiful woman on the planet to you, and she's even prettier when she's getting her face filled with your cock. You caress her pretty face as she sticks her tongue out to lick your cock. Slutty Minju has always been the best Minju, and you love how she slowly unleashes it and brings back memories of better days.

Minju throats your sword two-thirds of the way in now; get more accustomed to it. You know there is nothing this beautiful girl can't do and that she'll be taking it to the fullest soon. "Perfect, you're taking it so well," you tell her, diving your cock deeper into her throat, which makes her gag. 

"Maybe I'm ready to have it in my pussy," Minju says. "I want it so bad inside me; feel every inch stretching out my little pussy," she continues. You want it too; you love when she talks in a slutty way like this. 

Minju takes off the top of her lingerie, showing off her perky tits. She lies on her bed and spreads her legs as you kiss her little pink pussy that you haven't worshipped in a long time, before slowly eating her folds as she releases some cute moans. "You like licking that fucking pussy, baby?" she asks as she spreads her entrance for you to hit it deeper with your tongue.

"Keep going, baby; oh my god, lick my clit, I love it," Minju says as you take it in your mouth. "That tongue feels so good," she continues as you spit inside her and dive your head fully into her pussy. "Keep it there," she demands, getting her right leg up in the air. "You really like to worship my pussy, don't you?" she says. 

Minju grinds her breedable hips into your face as she enjoys your tongue; you get her really warm. "I want you to fuck me so bad; I want that big dick right inside my pussy," she begs with her beautiful smile. Soon, your face gets replaced by a long pole teasing her entrace.

You can feel that after all those years, Minju is still tight. "Nice and slow," she says as you rub your shaft into her entrance before teasing her into inserting just the tip. "Oh, Fuck, I love how you tease me," she says, as you shortly move straight into action and fuck her passionately in missionary.

Minju enjoys how your long length stretches her pussy. "Stretch it good," she says as you get deeper. Your cock slides with ease as you kiss her; her needy hole truly needed it. You go faster. "Don't stop," Minju says, "You're gonna make me cum already," she says, making you pick up the pace and choke her as she closes her eyes and you groan loudly.

"Fuck, I'm cumming, ah, shit." Minju has a fairly easy orgasm after a short few minutes. She really missed a long cock stretching her out; her pussy gets tighter and pinches your cock, but you remain strong, committed to stretching her cunt at all costs, as she softly curses and moans while kissing you in between. 

You lick Minju's neck as you give her a hard missionary pounding that sends her to the heavens. The way you wrap your body around hers makes her feel so loved, and the way your cock works hard in her pussy is so enjoyable to her. 

Your balls slap into Minju's clit as her right leg gets fully lifted and you press her back against the bed. Her orgasms continue as your cock gives her what she's been missing for nearly two decades. Minju just lets you dominate her and work as you please with her little breedable body.

"You're so fucking deep in me," Minju moans and laughs as you move to a mating press, her legs now all up in the air. Her pussy feels so good and warm the more you plow her. She's never felt that much pleasure since you left her. Minju starts regretting all those years you two were far apart, as your passionate pounding keeps giving her orgasm after orgasm.

Minju kisses you, thanking you for all the pleasure you are giving her as she goes back to worshipping your huge cock and tasting all her juices from it. She then rewards you with her wet pussy right in your face as she gets on top of you for a 69. You wrap your hands around her little waist, and you two compete to see who pleases the other the most. But Minju clearly has the edge. You can't match the way she massages your balls and gets you on the edge of unloading in her warm, cock-filled throat.

Truth be told, all Minju wants now is to be a sleeve for your massive cock. She gets on all fours as you spank her pale cheeks, her enticing pussy ready for more. "Ohhh shit," she moans as you insert just the tip, feeling very needy for that long dick. You grab the garters on her waist that are tied to her sexy black stockings as she swings her breedable hips to take more of that shaft inside her. Minju bounces on all fours as you spank her cute butt, tease her with slow pumps inside, and rub your tip on her beautiful wet entrance.

Slowly, you get your cock deep inside Minju; her pussy is wet but tightens fairly easily, giving you a huge challenge to stretch it out. "I love that cock stretching my tiny little pussy," she says. "Shit, you're so fucking tight after all those years," you tell her, barely able to get halfway inside as her pink hole clenches hard on every inch of that cock.

You have to take your cock out multiple times not to cum, her pussy gaping at each time. You then pump Minju faster, making her asshole wink at each thurst. "Fuck spank me like a slut," she begs as you increase the pace. Minju starts to regret not staying with you; she could have done that for years already, being the perfect toy for a massive cock that would stretch her out every single day.

Minju's little tits jiggle as she closes her eyes and explodes in louder and louder moans. "Don't stop," she demands, grabbing your hand as you wrap it around her waist. She's so slim and pretty—the perfect princess turned into the ultimate slutty fuck toy. "Take that cock," you tell her as you spank her further. "GOD, FUCK!" she yells. The line that introduced her to the world was about making it red, but now she's the one for whom you're turning the body red.

More spanks succeed in Minju's pale booty. And the more she takes them, the more she enjoys them. She's so overwhelmed she can't even stay on her knees anymore, cumming again as she gets pinned to the bed and turns your submissive doggy fuck into an even more submissive prone-boning of her pussy. You're now just her big bull manhandling her pink fleshlight, her torso and tummy hitting the bedsheets harder at each thrust you give her, her cheeks clapping as you put all your weight pressured against her hot body. 20 or 40 years old, Minju is still the same, perfect from head to toe.

"OH MY GOD, YOU'RE SO FUCKING DEEP." Minju screams as your cock fulyl bulges under her belly and shapes her pussy from her entrance to her cervix, molding it like it's your own work of art. You could cum right now, and that would be enough on its own. But you want more; you want Minju to feel every inch of your cock every day for the rest of her life. She'll be yours, one inch at a time.

"AHHHHHHHHH!" Minju turns into a screaming mess as you pound her harder and harder. Her ass is fully up against your hips as you destroy Minju like a fuckdoll. She may have had doubts at first, but even at this age, she can still take it. "Oh my god, I'm cumming again." These words make you craze as you pin her even harder against the bedsheets and choke her, making her pussy clench and unleashing a powerful orgasm that almost makes you finish right after.

You slow down and kiss Minju, getting completely on top of her, making her hot body into your property. Slow and deep, all the way in, you make Minju moan softly while stimulating her neck with kisses, her face now redder than a tomato. She could die right there, drowned by pleasure, and it would be a happy ending for her.

You set Minju free, and she immediately bends over to crown your cock, taking it deep in her mouth as she enjoys tasting herself, smiling and moaning. She then lays down, giving you a perfect view of her red cheeks as your member slides up and down her mouth. You caress her soft cheeks as her blowjob drives you to the edge—two lovebirds who feel like they couldn't have got a better comeback than this. 

Minju keeps kissing your dick. "Fuck, I can't believe this thing fits all inside of me," she says. "It felt so good inside of my pussy," she continues, with more kisses. You can't resist her warm mouth wrapped all over your massive monster, pushing up as you go back to fuck her face nonstop, treating her mouth the same way you just did to her pussy. "Fuck my face and bulge under my tiny little throat," Minju demands as soon as she gags, and you do it just as she asks.

After some rough throat pounding, you go back to your romantic ways, sliding back inside Minju in a passionate spooning position and kissing her as your cock hotly slides slowly in and out of her pussy. You caress her nipples as she demands that you go deeper. "Stretch my pussy all the way in,"  she says, fingering her clit to the pace of your thrusts while you hold the little string around her waist. 

"Fuck, you're stretching me out so good," she says. "You're getting so fucking deep AHHHHH," she continues as your balls start smashing against her entrance. 10 throbbing inches, and Minju is taking all of them, just like at your college dorms when your friends went out. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

"God, it's gonna make me cum again, yessss," Minju moans as she closes her eyes and releases yet another flow of juices into your massive monster, the orgasms her sterile husband could never give to her. Meanwhile,  today she's basically lost count of how many times she creamed herself on that cock. "I'm gonna cum all over that fucking cock, AHHHHH," Minju screams as you choke her, making her unleash it even quicker as you push your cock deep inside her with all your might.

Minju is still out of breath as you move slower to allow her to enjoy her orgams. "Keep stretching that pussy up," she says as she grabs her little tits. "I love feeling every single inch of you," she continues. "Make me your little fucking bitch; make me submit to all your desires," Minju keeps going, more satisfied than ever at each time you penetrate deep inside her pussy. "Harder, harder," she says as you clap your balls on her clit nonstop and make her scream even further as you groan and have yet another close call.

"Keep fucking me until I die, or until you cum," Minju says shortly after she gives you the most torrid round of kisses. "Let me sit on that fucking cock," she says, starting her ride slowly to adjust to that massive length impaling her. You wrap your hands around her waist and push her body down with your massive prick. Minju starts to move faster, getting better acclimated to that huge cock. "Stretch me out," she says as you push up her pussy and take control before resuming the ride.

"Spank my ass like a slut," she says as her bounces get harder to resist; each spanking makes her ultra-tight pussy clench. You can't resist and start manhandling her once again while slapping her hard, loving the way she moans.

Minju pulls out for a bit and gets on her feet on the side of the bed. You follow as you two kiss each other, feeling like this could be your last time together. She massages your cock, and you kiss her neck. "I missed you so much, my lover, especially your big cock stretching me out so well," she tells you. "But I'm still missing one last thing," she says. "Nobody has ever fucked me like you," she continues.

Minju then jumps on your cock, committing to make you drain her balls inside her. She's not going to stop until you do. Her ride gets crazier. You have flashbacks of her 20-year-old energetic self, which she brings back just for this moment. "Wanna cum inside me so fucking bad?" she asks. "I want you to fucking fill me up," she continues. "I'm ready to feel every fucking drop inside of my pussy; please shoot your load inside me," she keeps begging.

Not only did you shoot it, but the load that you had been saving for 20 years spurted out of your cock like a geyser, filling Minju's tight pussy to the brim, so much so that lots of it spilled into your navel. Your cock was throbbing so hard for her that it kept pulsating for 10 long seconds after you shot your cum inside her. Minju, not wanting to miss any drops, licks your cum-covered tummy with her mouth, swallowing what leaked out of her cunt. If this was your last time together, it was surely worth it.

"My God, you fuck me so good; you're incredible." Minju praised you and gave you more kisses, feeling loved in a way she hadn't felt for a long time. "Marry me, let's do this for the rest of our lives," she said, giving a final kiss on your cock.

But you two couldn't even enjoy it for much, as Minju's husband, arriving earlier, announced himself in the house. You, still naked, had to hide yourself in Minju's closet as you listened to both of them talking.

"Why are you almost naked in lingerie, Minju?" Her husband asked. "Nothing," she said, "just wanted to try some things I haven't done in a while.". "I saw you want to file for divorce; what are you hiding from me, Minju?" he continues. "Well, our marriage stalled out; honestly, keep the kids to yourself. You wanted them so much, but I had to find other guys because you're sterile," Minju continues, increasing her tone.

The arguing continues as you remain trapped in the closet. Her husband leaves and goes, taking "his" kids back from school. Minju cries as you try to consolate her and keep her calm. You had made her feel loved for the first time in years. "I hope this isn't the last time we see each other," she says, carrying you out of her house before her husband returns.

A few months passed by. Minju and her husband get into a divorce settlement. But she never called you after that night. You wondered if she had gotten back to her risk-averse ways and just wanted to play it safe. Until you receive a call.

"Hello," Minju says. Your eyes get bright instantly upon hearing her voice. "I have some news," she continued. "I'm pregnant," she tells you. "I want to move away from my home; would you follow me?" she asks. "Sure, anywhere you go, I'll follow you down," you tell her.

Last call: flight from Seoul to Prague. The aiport sound system announces. Minju gives one last hug to her longtime best friends, Eunbi and Yeji. "I'll stay in touch," she tells them. You two are ready to depart and start a new life. Meanwhile, the baby bump on Minju's belly is more noticeable than ever.

What was supposed to be the end was just a new start.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Shorter fic this time, busier week here. But on the 3rd year of my ult group's disbandment anniversary, I decided to drop this fic, which ends in the same way I feel about them today: Iz*one's end was just a new start, and its legacy has been enhanced by what happened after, as many of the most successful groups of the generation came from them.

PS: hopefully we see more of Minju this year. 🦊

[strawberrystepmom]

gojo x f!reader. woke up tender don’t look at me.

“Stop looking at me.”

The statement comes from your side of the bed, your half of the duvet you share with Satoru pulled over your chin, your eyes still closed and your lashes resting against your soft cheek. Your voice is raspy, throat dry from sleeping, and he simply chuckles next to you.

“How do you know what I’m looking at? Your eyes are closed.”

They are but the fact he has rolled over onto his side facing you and has been that way for at least ten minutes makes whatever point he’s been trying to make moot. You felt him shift when he first moved and you snuggled further into the bedding covering you, refusing to allow him to interrupt the last bits of sleep you’re entitled to.

Despite this, you can’t just go back to sleep and let him have the last word.

“You aren’t the only one with great perception around here, genius.” One of your arms slips over the top of your covers and reaches out to lightly flick the tip of his nose but he stops you halfway, capturing your hand in his and pressing your palm to his puckered lips.

You may be grumpy before 9 am but it’s hard to remain that way when he presses another kiss into your palm, this one accompanied by an exaggerated smack which makes you giggle. He does it again and takes a deep breath, again dramatic and grand, and continues the process until your giggle becomes a full blown laugh. Sleepy eyes open, blinking and watery, and meet his that are already crinkling at the corners from how hard he’s smiling looking at you.

“I’m up, are you happy?”

He hums and kisses your palm again, grin spreading across his face.

Morning suits you so well it’s a mystery to him why you hate it so much, warm light pouring over your face and body from the bedroom window and illuminating someone he’s already certain is an angel with a heavenly glow. How can he not stare until he has had his fill? The unfortunate thing about Satoru is that he doesn’t think he ever will, as gluttonous and greedy when it comes to you as he is those cream and strawberry filled sweets he brings home.

“Yes. I was lonely.”

You groan and roll your eyes but roll over onto your side to face him anyway. He will never tell you outright when he’s feeling wrong - sad or lonely or tired - but you are good at reading between the lines considering how often you speak in riddles yourself. The truth between these lines? He likely tossed and turned all night and has spent far longer than the last quarter of an hour staring at you and pondering what it means to love you, the divine gift he feels unworthy of receiving but is far too selfish to allow another to take.

Reaching out, you cup his cheek in your warm palm and his eyes shut reflexively. You rub your thumb over the skin of his cheek and while he’s distracted you lift your other arm from beneath the blanket and reach across your body to flick the tip of his nose playfully.

“You should be thanking me for being here to save the day,” you joke and he chuckles, unable to find the drama to react to you flicking his nose because of how happy he feels for the first time in hours.

The small gap between your bodies closes and he pulls you to his chest, kissing the top of your head. You nuzzle against him and he gently rocks you.

“Yeah, thanks or whatever. Not like I needed you or anything.”

You giggle, wrapping your arms around his waist and squeezing him.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Another kiss to your forehead. Satoru begins giggling wildly and you unbury your face from his chest, slightly concerned about what you’re going to look up to see but all you’re met with is a grin and eyes as clear as a cloudless sky.

“Just kidding,” he whispers, dragging the last syllable of the word for dramatic effect. He extends it for as long as he can until you shake your head and press your palm against his mouth.

“Good morning!” His greeting is muffled by your palm and you laugh when he takes liberties to keep kissing the soft skin through his own fit of giggles.

You may not be a morning person but every morning is easier when it is spent by his side.

[berberriescorner]

"Late Night Cravings"

Characters: Simon Riley x Black!Reader.

Summary: Missing your deployed husband, you get a late-night surprise that satisfies both your cravings and loneliness.

Warnings: Steaminess, a bit of angst, loneliness, fluff, mentions of phone sex with suggestive language and descriptions, mild swearing, and lighthearted humor. Oh, and if I hadn’t already made it clear at the top of my blog: minors DNI. My content is for the grown folks👏🏾.

Authors Note: Hello my lovelies🫶🏾! I've been toying with the idea of writing for the Simon Riley/Ghost fandom for a while now. Thanks to some awesome encouragement, I finally took the plunge! This story idea wouldn't leave me alone, so I decided to say, "What the hell," and give it a shot. I hope I captured Simon to the best of my ability. Please remember that this is my first attempt at a Ghost fic…and, well, “I’M JUST A GIRL!🥺🥹😩😆” Okay, a grown woman, but a girl nonetheless. I had a wonderful time writing this, and I hope you all enjoy reading it. Word Count: 1,700+.

Inspired By♥️🖤:

The clock ticked past midnight, the silence of the empty house amplifying the sound. In the dimly lit kitchen, the soft glow of the refrigerator illuminated your very pregnant features as you rested a hand on your swollen belly. You sighed, heart heavy with longing for the man you loved, miles away on some unknown continent, carrying out numerous dangerous missions.

You stood there, staring at the array of food in the fridge, a wave of emotions washing over you. Pregnancy hormones wreaked havoc on your mood, and tonight, you found yourself overwhelmed with sadness and longing for your husband, Simon.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you reached for the phone on the counter. Your fingers trembled with emotion. You needed him. His comforting presence, the sweet sound of his soothing voice to chase away the loneliness that threatened to consume you.

"Hey, love," Simon’s voice came through the phone, warm and comforting. His tone was deep and smooth like whiskey on a cold winter's night.

Your breath caught in your throat. Simon’s voice was a mixture of relief and longing washing over you. "Hi," you replied sheepishly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Everythin' alright, angel?" your husband asked, concern lacing his words.

You sniffled, wiping away a stray tear. "I... I just miss you, Si. And I'm so hungry, but nothing in the fridge sounds good."

Simon’s heart ached at the sound of your voice, at the thought of you being alone, in need of comfort. "I wish I could be there with you, angel. You know I miss you more than anythin’."

A sob escaped your lips, emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "I’m sorry, Si. This is probably the last thing you need to deal with right now. I just wish you were home... I need you here. I need you to hold me. To eat junk food with me in the middle of the night. It’s weird not having you with me throughout this pregnancy. I got so used to you being around the first time. It never mattered how late it was. Whatever I craved, you either got up to fetch or prepare it. I miss eating with you. For goodness' sake, I probably sound like a blubbering cow. God I know I sound selfish. I’m sorry, Si."

“That’ll be enough nonsense. No more name-callin’. Eat all you want, beautiful. Vent all you want. ‘S no bother, love. Truly it isn’t.”

A flicker of determination sparked in Simon’s eyes as he listened to your words. "I may not be able to be there in person, but I can still make sure you're taken care of. Give me about ten to twenty minutes, love. I need to sort something out."

You pouted and whispered your agreement as Simon rushed you off the phone, still unsure of how to satisfy your cravings. You plucked a bottled water from the fridge.  You waddled toward the living room. Your smile lit up the room as you noticed a pregnancy pillow on the couch. Simon had scattered them throughout the house before leaving. He wanted you to find comfort in any room while he was away.

Your fingers hovered over the remote, drawn instead to the flashing screen announcing Simon’s incoming call.“Babe, that was quick. I’m excited it’s a video call. I miss your f—” Your words came to a pause. He was no longer among his comrades. Your husband had whisked away to his sleeping quarters, all gear removed aside from his balaclava. Some would find it terrifying, but Simon knew that in the depths of your deviant little mind, you found it sexy, arousing even. The shirt and pants he wore underneath were deliciously form-fitting. He watched as your eyes roamed over his biceps. Though you couldn’t see, you were certain there was a sexy smirk underneath his balaclava.

“Eyes up here, angel,” he commanded, voice smoky and sensual.

“Damn it, Si. Now I’m craving both food and you. You cheeky bastard. Did I mention I miss your sexy ass,” you questioned in a teasing manner.

Simon leaned in closer to the screen, giving you a devilish wink. “Miss you more, angel. If you can stay up late for me tonight, I may have time to call you and render some special sleep aid,” he offered, voice smoldering with desire.

“Can’t we do that now?” you whined, mouth forming a slight pout.

“Not now, love. There are more important matters to handle first. I’m afraid my work isn’t done for the night. Can you be patient for me?”

“Yes, but—”

“Atta girl,” he husked, aware of what those two words would do to you. 

You tried making a convincing argument, but a knock at the front door interrupted the conversation.

Confusion clouded your thoughts as you heard the sound of the doorbell ringing in the background. Stunned, you made your way to the front door, heart racing with anticipation.

Who on earth could be at my door at this hour?

“Um, Si. Baby, there’s—”

“I know. ‘S alright, love. Answer it.”

As you opened the door, your breath caught in your throat at the sight of a delivery bag from McDonald's sitting on the doorstep. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you realized what your husband had done.

"Si, you didn't have to..." you began, your voice filled with gratitude.

"Just open it, love," he interrupted, his voice warm and reassuring.

With watery eyes, you opened the bag to reveal an array of your favorite foods: chicken nuggets, a fish filet, fries, and a vanilla milkshake. Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized the lengths he had gone to make you feel loved and cared for, even from miles away. Simon understood that as a grown-ass woman. You could’ve ordered the food, but he knew it was more about the gesture and putting your mind at ease that mattered most.

"Thank you, baby," you whispered, love overflowing for the man who had stolen your heart many moons ago.

On the other end of the line, Simon smiled, his heart swelling with love for his wife. "Anything for you, angel. Now, let's eat together."

You giggled as his hand waved over an assortment of goodies you had sent in a care package.

“Baby, don’t you have any real food? Anything other than snacks?” you questioned, worried he wasn’t eating enough.

“Johnny’s on kitchen duty tonight. Not takin’ any chances. Eat up, love. Tell me about your day. Is the lil’ lad holdin’ down the fort? Papa left him in charge. And the littlest lad you’re growing? Is he still kickin’ you all night? He’ll be a ball of energy once he’s on the outside. You jus’ wait and see.”

As the two of you sat on the video call, sharing a meal, bonding over the love for your children. You felt closer than ever before. Distance may have kept you apart, but with a little FaceTime, all was right in the world.

After thirty minutes of conversation, the time came and Simon had to go. 

“Duty calls, angel,” he gruffed, slightly annoyed.

“Go fuck some shit up, baby.”

Though your words were encouraging and playful, Simon saw the worry in your eyes. He did his best to put you at ease. Your husband playfully tapped the skull emblem on his mask. “Always a step ahead. Consider it done, love.” You offered a weak smile and chewed your lip nervously. Almost scared to end the call. Underneath the balaclava, his smirk disappeared. Your reservations could be felt even through the screen. Simon’s eyes darted around for a second before lifting his mask briefly. Your eyes connected as the usually stoic man offered you his most sincere attempt to ease your worried mind. Ashamed of him picking up on your innermost thoughts of panic, you broke eye contact. “Look at me, angel.”  The beautiful shade of your orbs landed on his once more. “It’ll be alright, love. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be careful. Get some rest, and do your best to answer later tonight.”

“Jesus. You always know just what to say, and do you have to be so damn sexy when saying it? I just want to eat you.”

Simon dropped his mask back into place, voice lowered. With a hint of a growl, he responded, “Be sure to get that rest while I’m working, love. You’ll need the energy. I don’t care what time it is. When I get back. I want you pickin’ up on the first ring. Have that camera angle ready. ‘M going to watch you ride my pillow until you’re a shakin’, soppin’ wet, messy puddle. You’ll beg me to come. The filth that falls from my lips will be like music to your ears. I’m going to take you apart piece by piece with my words. Just to put you back together and do it all over again. You’ll be chanting the words ‘I can’t. No more, Si.’ How’s that sound, love?”

“Can you leave already? The quicker you depart, the faster you return,” you panted. “Fuck, Si. I’m so achy for you.”

“There will be no playing while I’m gone. Understood,” he asked, voice gravelly.

“Yes,” you purred.

“Yes, what,” he demanded.

“Yes, sir,” you moaned softly.

“Good girl. I have to go now, angel.”

“LT, wheels up in ten,” Johnny shouted from the doorway.”

“ I heard you the first time, MacTavish. Give me a fuckin’ minute.”

“Simon! Be nice,” you bristled.

Your husband turned back to the screen. He rolled his eyes as Johnny leaned in to meddle.

“Hello, dove. When are you going to leave this grumpy bastard for me,” Johnny questioned.

You started to reply with a teasing answer, but Simon cut you off with an irritated grunt.

“Gotta go, angel.”

“Okay, baby. You take care of my man, MacTavish.”

You giggled at Simon threatening Johnny while ending the call.

“MacTavish, flirt with the missus again.” Instead of ending his statement using words, Simon stared Soap down with a cold, emotionless gaze. His head tilted to the now black screen, and his hand moved to rest on one of his now re-holstered weapons. Johnny smirked, slapping a hand on Simon’s back. “That little lady’s got you head over heels LT.” Simon made no argument, just offered a grunt of agreement.

What did you think, my lovelies? Let me know in the comments! And if you enjoyed it, don't forget to reblog and share the love!

Divider: @firefly-graphics

Wasn’t sure who to tag😩…

Tagging a few of my love bugs💓:

@darqchilddaydreamz @thirtysomethinganduncensored @percosim @astoldbychae @theeblackmedusa @johnnyshoe @thabiddie23 @starrynite7114

…

Inner workings of my mind:

*thirty minutes after posting it-> “they hate it!”*

*takes deep breath. must fight the urge to delete it.*

😆😂🤣.

[twilightcitysky]

Everything Is Meant (long S2 analysis, part 2)

Part one here

Okay, so that's how I think the pre-creation scene and Gabriel's arc connect to Aziraphale's choice. I also think the ineffable bureaucracy speedrun exists to prove totally different things to Aziraphale and Crowley: Aziraphale loves that they can love each other but notes they have to run away to be together; Crowley sees this and immediately thinks "hey, we can do that too!", forgetting that running away is not a solution Aziraphale has ever been interested in. It's the mentality of an individualist vs a group-oriented mind, and neither of them is necessarily wrong, it's just that their priorities are different and they HAVE TO TALK ABOUT IT, which they don't.

Continued analysis under the cut:

3. Let's take the Job minisode. Why include it? We already mentioned that it proves Aziraphale remembers Crowley as an angel, since he mentions it. And he believes Crowley is the same person he always was, and that he doesn't want to harm Job's crops or animals or children. Crowley tries to convince him he's a Big Bad Demon who is all in on this assignment, but fails utterly to kill even a single goat, soooo... Aziraphale comes to the conclusion that he knows what Crowley wants. Alert! Alert! This is a big problem! Crowley says, "What do you know about what I want?" Aziraphale: "I know you." Crowley: "You do not know me." But because Aziraphale got it right this time, he goes ahead assuming he'll always get it right, which is a crucial failure when it comes to the final reckoning. He doesn't ever ASK Crowley what he wants, he just assumes. When you assume you know what someone wants, you usually assume their priorities align with yours... he couldn't be more wrong about that. The Job minisode sets up this dynamic for them, and they never really manage to change it.

The other thing happens at the end of the minisode. Crowley acknowledges two crucial points: 1) he's lonely ("But you said it wasn't!" "I'm a demon. I lied"), 2) he doesn't think Aziraphale would like Hell. Aziraphale DOESN'T like Hell. Aziraphale hates Hell for what they've done to Crowley. He doesn't see Heaven as innocent or benign, but importantly, Heaven has never tried to hurt Crowley directly. They never threatened his safety. They never tortured him (as it's heavily implied that Hell did). Fast forward to the last ten mins of season 2: Aziraphale excited to tell Crowley that he can be an angel again BECAUSE: he never has to go back to Hell. They can never hurt him again, not the way they did before. And he doesn't have to be lonely anymore.

Last point before I leave Job: Crowley has the chance to cause Aziraphale to Fall, here, probably. ("I lied to Heaven to thwart the will of God!" "You did, but I'm not going to tell anybody. Are you? ...good, then nothing has to change.") He doesn't take it. He doesn't want Aziraphale to be a demon. He loves Aziraphale as he is. "Angel" as an affectionate. Aziraphale certainly doesn't use "demon" as a pet name for Crowley. I think they set up this scene to contrast the final one, and show how deeply hurt Crowley is that Aziraphale suggest he change.

4. Moving on to Victorian Scotland. This one confused me at first. I was delighted that they brought back the "the lower you start the more opportunity you have to rise" dialogue from the book, but apart from that I didn't really see the point of it. It seems like the statue of Gabriel and the fact that he and Beelz ended up at that pub in the present were more or less coincidental.

The point, I think, is actually not the girl, but the doctor. He's a person who is trying to do good by working in a system that's deeply flawed, and engaging in questionable moral practices for the greater good. (Cadaver dissection is still an essential part of medical school. You need dead bodies to understand living ones.) He shows Aziraphale a tumor he removed from a child who died, and Aziraphale clutches it to his chest. The camera zooms in and lingers to tell us that this is a guardian through and through. He wants to protect people. He wants to do good with every fiber of his being.

To Crowley, it's enough to just "be an us" with Aziraphale. He doesn't really want anything more than that. That's an issue! For one thing, it fosters unhealthy codependency, and for another, Aziraphale would never be happy without the opportunity to help and protect people. It's an essential part of who he is. Metatron knows that, and he plays Aziraphale like a fiddle. The doctor showed Aziraphale that you can make a difference even in systems that are flawed, and even if you have to do things you'd rather not do. Aziraphale doesn't want to go back to Heaven, but he truly thinks he can change things; thinks he can be a guardian with some real power. In his mind, that's the right thing to do.

Last thing that happens in Scotland: Crowley saves a soul from Hell, arguably, by preventing a suicide. He gets in Big Trouble. Whatever happened to him downstairs resulted in him coming back up, leaning on a cane, and asking Aziraphale to give him holy water. Go back and watch that scene knowing what we know now about the Victorian minisode. Ask yourself how Aziraphale must have felt. He likely blamed himself for what happened, because if he hadn't meddled then they never would have been there in the first place. He knew where Crowley was, and why he was there, and he had to sit with that knowledge for years. He desperately wants Crowley to be safe; is perfectly willing to push him away to keep him safe-- which is what he does do, the minute Crowley gets back.

Now think again about what Metatron offered him. A chance to keep Crowley safe forever. He'd never be harmed again. Aziraphale is going to take that offer, no matter what else is asked of him. He's shown over and over again that he'll sacrifice his own happiness to make sure nothing happens to Crowley. And he'll do it without talking to Crowley about it first, because he is a moron who doesn't know how to use his words. Leading Crowley to assume that Aziraphale doesn't love him. The idiot angel is doing it all out of love, but because he doesn't make himself clear Crowley doesn't know that.

Part 3: Maggie and Nina, and their roles as mirror couple/ Greek chorus!

[hoshigray]

𝐓𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐞, 𝐔𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐞, 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 | getō suguru

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: rigger! Geto x fem/afab! reader - shibari; rope bondage (boxtie, breast, crotch, elbow) - blindfolded - gagged (handkerchief) - fingering (f! receiving) - pleasure denial - oral (m! receiving) - pet names (angel, baby, little/pretty bird, sweetie, ) - mention of drool/saliva and tears.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: c'mon now, y'all KNOW geto would be into rope play. matter of fact, it's canon cuz I'm part of gege's assistant team, lol. also, tysm for 2.5k, y'all are too kind ♡

inspired by a talk b/w me and @ramonathinks (ily hon!!)

"Thank you so much for the help, Geto."

"No problem, now be good and always behave from now on."

"Oh, I will!" The spiky raven-haired offers a warm smile to the woman as two men usher her out of his room, the three dark figures seen from the sliding door disappearing with footsteps heading to the corner of the hallway. Geto then gets up from the tatami flooring and stretches. 

He then stands and looks at the door for three seconds. Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty.

After a full minute, his purple eyes peer at the sliding door to his right, taking light steps when approaching the room next door. Geto hovers an ear next to the door, trying to hear something from the other side if it contrasts with the silence of the room he’s currently in. He gives it a few more seconds before sighing through his nostrils, a sly smile creeping up. Geto brings a hand to the handle, finally sliding it to the right and revealing what was inside.

And to his mischievous glee, his smile grows from ear to ear. Because it wasn’t a what that had him chuckling to himself — it was a who. 

And who laid on the tatami floor before him was you. You were nude, your body covered in red rope, your mouth gagged by a red handkerchief, and your eyes covered in a black blindfold. 

There, you lay on your side on the floor. The red rope around your body restrains your arms and hands behind your back in a boxtie position, and your bare chest prompts up for exposure. The cord separates your breasts to each side, leaving a unique and alluring design that crosses throughout your abdomen and down south. No undergarments in sight; therefore, your chasm was out in the room’s air, the red cable slithering down between your folds, leaving a wet residue on the strict texture. 

And, good Lord. The whimpers you use to comfort yourself in this situation. All naked and isolated to the confines of this dark room, away from light and hospitality. Your meek voice is the only thing that holds familiarity to you. That is until you hear Geto close the door behind himself, the sounds of his light footsteps dancing around the room.

“Well, hello there, little bird.” The warm tone in his voice sent shivers down your spine, for you could hear the words parade condescendingly. Geto walks around the room, lighting up the candles. The smell of smoke and the rosy scent enter your nostrils. “Sorry for leaving you in the dark like this. Were you lonely?”

 He can only hear the mumbles confined from the handkerchief, which he can only assume was confirmation. “I apologize, baby. I had to leave our little session to tend to some business with some monkeys.” He said the last word with such slight vexation; you were bright to listen hard enough to catch it. Geto comes to you and sits next to your restricted body. “But now, you have my full attention, sweetie.” 

Cold, slender fingers touch your cheek, causing you to jerk at the sensation. It makes him snicker. “You know why I have you like this, yeah?” His palm cups your cheek, thumb swiping off drool at the corner of your mouth. “I saw you, my pretty bird, in the garden yesterday. You looked so beautiful and pure with the world — my world.” They snake down to your neck and brush your collarbone. His fingertips now become warm from the friction of your enchanting skin. “Then, I saw some parasite — a man worth for sore eyes — come and talk to you. He even had the gall to touch your hands with his filthy palms.” The hand now comes to your breast, a small gasp when they brush your nipples. “And you, such an amiable and accepting person, let him touch you like that. Unbeknownst to my vision.” Those same digits tweeze the bud or your mound, resulting in a sharp pant covered by the cloth in your mouth. “Who? Who told you to let that happen? Hmm?” 

Of course, he doesn’t wait for your response; what response? Your muffled moans and puffs of air? How silly. Geto brings his mouth to your other nipple, taking it in and sucking on it. The lapping motions of his tongue and the grazes of his teeth distract you from his hand snaking down with the red rope to your cunt. His digits now intrude on your southern lips, playing with your wetness in a teasing manner. And when you feel his forefinger about to enter your slit, you can’t help but sway your hips to invite him in. And it’s detected by the raven-haired man.

“Oh? You want me to put them inside, baby?” He already knows the answer; it’s no surprise when you nod helplessly. However, he clicks his tongue. “I don’t know, angel. Or should I even call you that anymore — how can an angel of mine be stained by the stench of such a foul monkey, huh.” His fingers move away from your cunt, now toying with the flesh of your inner thigh. Oh, the way your brows trench and how you whine for him. It always awakens something in him — something carnal. And how can he subject himself to the cries of his little bird? “Alright, alright. But if you really want me so badly, prove it to me. You can do that, right?” 

Geto removes his hand and mouth from your body, your chasm and nipples feeling outcasted from his warm touch. You jolt when the handkerchief in your mouth loosens and soon meets the tatami floor. Yet, your vision is still shielded by the black cloth. “Su–Suguru,” you chant his name in trembles. “Please forgive me, I—“

“I will forgive you,” the sound of clothing rustling fills the space, indicating that he’s now removing his monk attire. The black yukata comes undone, revealing his upper body while he pulls his pants down to his thighs. Something touches the plump of your lips, the tip seeking entry to your oral cavity. “Just suck me off like you always do, and all will be forgiven. You’re still my angel, right?” And with that, you accept the head of his cock with patient yearning, hallowing your cheeks while your tongue welcomes the underside of his limb. And it takes everything in Geto’s power not to rut your face with relentless vigor. He wants to take this slow first. He needs to see if you deserve his kindness. “Mmmm, good. Just like that…”

A few bobs to the base of his length is enough to put you in a trance, especially with the blindfold hindering your sense of vision, forcing you to rely on others. His smell is so intoxicating, the taste of his precum overcoming your tastebuds and the slap of his balls on your chin. Unhurried thrusts slowly but surely dial up to speed by the seconds. Your euphoric hums become frequent as his dick hits the back of your throat, every inch of him sinking deep into your mouth and throat that strains of saliva streak down to the dent of your chin. Your toes curl when he grinds his pelvis down to your lips, nose pressed to the pubes that fill your nostrils with his raw scent. Good God, it feels so good, the throbbing sensation in your chasm between your legs flourishing within.

And it goes the same for Geto, too. Both his hands find purchase on your head, keeping you in position for him to rut your face. Your tight throat grips him so nicely, the gummy walls holding onto him so deliciously that he can’t fight the wanton need anymore. Erratic hits to your face become apparent, making your mouth soaped with saliva that drips down to the room flooring. And you take the jabs to the back of your throat with ease, mewling on his cock with pleasure while being used like a toy as the head of his shaft bullies your insides. 

He pulls his head back, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as his body jerks to the electric shocks climbing up. He’s close/ So, so close. “…Haaahh—Mmmph!! Damn, you feel so good for me…I’m cumming, angel. Gonna—Ahhhh! Christ…Hmmph!!” With gritted teeth, Geto drills his dick deep within your throat, the warm fluid excreting out his glans greeting its velvety walls. Blissful hums from you vibrate your throat, sending shivers to Geto while he experiences his crescendo. 

When he’s finally done with his high and his load is inside you, he gradually removes his length from you. The tip of his cock resting on your tongue, which licks off any excess come. He then moves to free your shut eyelids from the black blindfold, your eyes fluttering at the scene of the warmly dimmed room, and Geto is now inches away from your face. Your watery eyes sparkle from the candlelight, and tears strike down and slide down your breast until the red rope captures it. “Forgive me, Suguru. I will always be yours. Only yours…”

He gives you a playful sneer, using a finger to wipe a tear from your cheek. He'd be a fool if he let you off the hook, especially now when you look at him as if he's your entire world. That's all he wants from the person he loves more than anything.

“You’re forgiven. And now, my pretty bird,” you can see the slight devious glint that harbors in his dark, violet eyes. 

“I shall reward you.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – transparent edit made by me + dividers from @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[dollfacefantasy]

Just Like the Movies

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: your boyfriend dons the ghostface mask to let you live out a fantasy

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, cnc, praise/degradation, knife play, predator/prey dynamic (he chases her idk what to call it), dacryphilia, voyeurism mentions

word count: 3.4k

a/n: i wanted to write at least one spooky thing for halloween and i love scream so here you go. i'm working on requests i promise, i just wanted to get this out before october ends. as always, thank you for the comments and reblogs <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz ghostface photo used in the header is from @/oikizumi on pinterest!

An old scary movie plays on the television as you relax on the couch after a hard week. You had a soft blanket draped over you and a bowl of popcorn in your lap. The missing piece was your boyfriend. You were just waiting for him to come home and join you for your little makeshift marathon.

You casually watch the movie while lifting handfuls of popcorn to your mouth. You had seen this one before so it wasn’t scaring you, but it was entertaining enough to pass the time with until Leon returned to you.

It was getting to be that time of evening when he usually came marching through the door, tired from work but still with open arms for you to slide into. He hadn’t come home yet though. As you’re wondering where your lover could be, your phone begins to ring.

You sit up and grab it from the table in front of you.

No caller ID.

You raise your eyebrows at the strange nature of that. Assuming it’s a scam call though, you leave it be. However, the phone rings again. You actively decline the call this time. You place your phone down again, hoping that would be the end.

It wasn’t though because not even a minute later, your phone vibrates again.

You reach for the device and see a text message pop up on your lock screen.

‘Don’t ignore me, pretty girl.’

That piques your curiosity. When the phone rings again, you click the answer button and bring it to your ear.

“Hello?” you say.

“Finally, she answers the phone,” a smooth, predatory voice teases.

“Who is this?” you ask.

“Oh c’mon, you don’t wanna ruin the fun already, do you babydoll?” he purrs.

“Well, what do you want?” you ask. The cadence of the voice was familiar, but the actual sound of it, you couldn’t place. It didn’t sound like anyone you knew in real life.

“To talk to you. I guess you could say I’m kind of lonely,” he says with mock sadness.

“Aw, well I’m not, so bye,” you say and hang up the phone. As you begin to place that voice and the cadence behind it, Leon’s late arrival makes sense. You had disclosed this little fantasy to him recently. And it seemed like he had got the modulator to sound just like the movie for you.

Not even ten seconds go by before the phone rings again. An excited chill comes over you as you lift it and accept the call.

“Hello?”

“Why’d you hang up on me, angel? That’s not very nice of you,” he taunts, “You doing something better right now?”

“Mhm,” you hum.

“Yeah? What’s so important that you can’t spare a few moments of your precious time?”

“I’m about to watch some scary movies,” you say, a smile spreading on your face. You sit up on the couch more as you feel where this conversation is going.

“Scary movies? I like scary movies,” he says, “Tell me, do you have a favorite?”

“I like Scream. You ever seen that one?” you say teasingly.

“I’m familiar,” he says, “That one’s not really scary though. I bet I could give you more of a thrill.”

“Mm, maybe. But sadly for you, my boyfriend will be home soon.”

“Boyfriend? That’s a shame,” he says, his voice becoming a hint darker.

“I’m sure it is. Anyways, I should be going…” you trail off knowingly.

“C’mon, blondie can wait a few more minutes.”

“Blonde,” you repeat slowly, feigning fear, “How do you know he’s blonde?”

“I’ve been watching you for a while, baby. Had to make sure everything would be perfect tonight,” he says with a low laugh, “Let’s just say that we have plenty of time now.”

“Why are you doing this? Who are you?” you say, cranking up the fear in your voice. You stand up from the couch and walk to a window to see if you can spot him outside.

“That doesn’t matter, sweetheart. Plus, I thought girls liked the whole man of mystery thing,” he chuckles, “You’re honestly telling me this doesn’t turn you on?”

“It doesn’t!” you say defensively.

“Are you sure about that?” he breathes, “When I cut those slutty little shorts off you, I’m not gonna find a messy cunt crying for me to fill her?”

“No…” you say, your cheeks heating up while arousal pools in your belly.

“You don’t sound so sure,” he teases, “Y’know, I think I can see your nipples getting hard under that thin shirt all the way from here.”

You quickly step away from the window, a shiver shooting up your spine. You bite your lip. “Please don’t hurt me,” you whimper.

His cruel laugh crackles through the phone. “I wanna hear you cry like that when you’re cumming all over my cock.”

Every word tumbling from his lips stoked the flames of desire within you. Your veins were coursing with a primal need at this point.

“I’m gonna call the police,” you say. Your voice was breathy in what could be interpreted as terror, but in reality, it was pure lust.

“Do you think that would stop me?” he rasps into the phone, “Because, we both know I would get to you before the operator could even take your address. But let’s say you did get through. I can be quick, doll. Take what’s mine and have that tight pussy full of my cum with time to spare.”

You shift your thighs and look for the smallest semblance of friction as he lays this out to you.

“By the time any cop did get here, all they would find is a pathetic little mess, lying on the ground all fucked out and bred, a dumb smile on that pretty face.”

The tiniest whine escapes your throat from that mental image. You wonder if he heard it, but the throaty chuckle on the other end answers your question.

“You dirty fucking whore. You love this. You wanna be pinned down and used until your sweet mind is broken and completely cock drunk.”

“No, I don’t,” you say, trying to keep up the act of defiance even though your desire was palpable in your voice.

“Well, too bad. But I’ll be generous, little one. I’m telling you that I’m coming in now. A little head start if you’re smart,” he says, “You better not waste my fucking time. Give me a good chase, or I’m not gonna be nice when I catch you. Find out if your insides are as pretty as the outside.”

You hang up the phone. Your body was on fire with a mix of adrenaline and arousal. You scamper through the house into another room, wondering what to even start with. Your thoughts are cut off when you hear the back door slide open.

Your pulse thunders in your ears. You move quietly across the room you’re in, peering through the doorway back into the living room. You see him. That tall and fit body donned in a tight black t-shirt and pants. He wears black leather boots on his feet. A large hunting knife is strapped to his belt. His head is covered, and when he turns, your heart seizes at the sight of the ghostface mask.

He catches a glimpse of you through the cracked door and starts toward you. You zoom through the other door in the room, maneuvering quickly around furniture and stray clutter. Then, you loop back to the open back door. You can hear him clambering through the hall behind you. Primal fear courses through you, instinctually telling every cell in your body to run.

“Where do you think you’re going, sugar?” you hear the voice modulator crackle.

Moving through the sliding door, you dart across the backyard. The grass was wet against your feet since you didn’t have the time to grab a pair of shoes. You fumble with the gate, your hands shaking from the adrenaline coursing through you. You try to shut it behind you to delay him, but he’s already so close.

You continue sprinting into the woods behind your home. The area surrounding you was dark. It was cold out too. Your skin had broken out into goosebumps, your thin shirt and shorts not providing much warmth, and your bare feet only exacerbating the feeling.

There were trees everywhere, and it felt like there were things hiding within the dense woodland. The whole time you focused on not running into a tree, you could hear him behind you. His breathing was heavier, but it was clear he was exerting minimal effort.

You jump over overgrown roots and duck under stray branches. Despite running for a bit, you still weren’t too deep in the woods. You shoot a look behind you, trying to see if you were any closer to losing him than before. He’s just as close, and in the midst of your attempted glance, your foot catches on a rock. You cry out and tumble to the ground. Skin scrapes against the dirt and rocks beneath you.

He slows his pace to a simple walk, pulling the hunting knife from the sheath. The wide blade shimmers in the pale moonlight. He holds it up and drags a gloved fist over the silver, just like in the movies. Another, low laugh breaks through the speaker of the modulator.

“Too easy, princess,” he taunts, “Get up and keep running.”

Your eyes widen and blood rushes to the lower region of your body at the command. You stumble to your feet and stagger away. Your foot aches a little from the rock and the fall, but you continue in earnest.

He lets you go on for a while longer. Occasionally, he would intentionally fall behind, giving you the illusion that you could outrun him. But also filling you with the dread that you would be out in those woods alone.

Soon enough, he’s had enough of the chase. He speeds up and hooks his arms around your waist. He pulls you to the ground in a swift motion, whipping around your body so quickly that you could barely see it. He’s got one of his knees holding your dominant arm down while a hand holds the knife to your throat. You squirm and whimper under him, causing him to shake his head and make a noise of mock disappointment.

“Poor baby. You did all you could, didn’t you?” he coos menacingly, leaning down closer to your face, “Look at you. Out of breath, heart beating out of your chest. You tried so hard.”

He brings the knife up to your cheek and drags the tip across, not cutting you but letting you feel the cool metal on your soft skin. You whine and scrunch your face in discomfort, eliciting a cruel laugh from him. He drops the knife nearby and shakes his head.

“Not a fan of knives, sweet thing? Too scary?”

Next, you try recoiling from his touch, but he’s caging your body on the ground. The damp dirt presses against your back and smears on his clothing as he wrestles with you to keep you in place. Again, you can see how little effort it takes for him to keep you down. The display of strength has your heart beating harder with lust.

“Keep fighting me, little one. It’s my favorite part,” he breathes before shifting on top of you and roughly flipping you over.

Now, squirming only rubs your face into the soil beneath you. In this position, you can feel his hard cock against your ass. He reaches over for the knife again and brings it to the base of your spine. He uses his knee to hold down your arm again, so he can pull your skimpy top taut and slice through it with ease.

He handles you like a ragdoll and yanks it off. The knife falls to the ground again as he reaches around your body with both gloved hands to knead your breasts. You whimper at the harsh squeezes and rolls of his fingers. His face is right next to your head, and you can hear his ragged breathing under the mask.

He pinches and teases your nipples, your noises now becoming obviously pleasurable. A hand slides into your hair and grips the roots as he shoves your face to the ground. Your cheek is smooshed on the cool surface, and your lips part as your own breathing picks up. Your hips are still squirming, but now only to try and feel some friction with his dick.

“There we go. Such a little slut. Didn’t take much for you to give in. You know this is where you belong. Beneath me, stuffed full of my cock,” he groans.

His hands glide down your body, pulling your hips into place. He tugs your shorts and panties down to your knees, humming in satisfaction when he sees your dripping cunt. Two leather-covered fingers slide through your slick. They circle your puffy clit, drawing mewls from your throat. The fingers then dip inside you and pump in and out a few times. Your body shudders at the sensation.

“So fucking wet. You like this even more than I thought. So sick baby. My twisted little doll,” he teases.

He plants his free hand on the back of your neck and digs his fingers into the side of your throat. His other hand continues working your aching pussy, adding in another finger to your needy hole. You choke out a few moans as your breathing becomes more like panting.

“All this for just my fingers? Can’t imagine how you’re gonna cry on my cock. Maybe scream for me a few times,” he purrs.

After a bit more, he pulls his fingers out of your pussy, shushing you when you whine in protest. You hear the sound of a zipper and the rustle of fabric being adjusted. It isn’t long before you feel the heat of his cock prodding your entrance. You shift your hips back, taking the tip in.

He grunts and his breath hitches as you clamp down on the sensitive head. Once he regains his composure, he slams his hips forward, sheathing himself fully inside you with one thrust. You cry out and claw the dirt beneath you.

“You wanna be an impatient little bitch, I’m not gonna be gentle with you. If you’re so fucking needy that you can’t wait two seconds for my dick, I’ll treat you like the cockslut you are, sweetheart,” he says before beginning to rock his hips back and forth.

He finds a rhythm with ease. One of his hands gives your ass a few firm smacks while his other hand returns to your head to pull on your hair. The noise of your skin connecting sounds through the woods along with your whining. His grip on your hair is like a vise. The mild sting of the pull mixed with the rush of pleasure from him drilling into you brings some tears to your eyes.

“That’s right, fucking take it. This is what you were made for, sweet girl. Your body knows it,” he grunts as your walls flutter around him.

He smacks your ass again while getting more erratic with his thrusts. The hand in your hair returns to your hip to give him more leverage. His digits dig into your skin to the point of potential bruises. You whimper and moan, your head becoming cloudy while he stretches you out.

His quiet moans hit your ears and make your stomach erupt with butterflies. You tighten around his shaft. You were starting to work up a sweat despite the cool temperature of the air around you. You shudder and twitch, only causing him to hold you tighter.

Your back arches as more sinful noises pour from your lips. A particular thrust snaps something in you and breaks the dam that was holding in your tears. It felt like he was stroking deeper than ever before, and you just couldn’t hold it in. Warm drops stream from your eyes while your whimpering grows louder and less controlled.

“Are you crying, little love?” he coos, but you can hear the smirk in his voice. He starts rubbing your back with even, soothing strokes without stopping his thrusts, “Cry it out, sweetheart. It just feels too good, doesn’t it?”

“Y-yeah,” you whimper with a weak nod.

“Yes it does. I know, baby,” he says condescendingly. His gloved hand continues caressing your back while he snaps in and out. You grow louder still, whining and moaning through tears.

“Someone’s gonna hear you, doll,” he teases. Your cheeks warm with embarrassment, but you’re past the point of being able to control your volume. “You’d probably get off on that though, you little freak.”

“N-no,” you stutter out in an attempt to defend yourself, but you’re cut off by your own gasps of pleasure.

“No? You wouldn’t cum on the spot if someone saw you like this? Taking my cock like the good little whore you are. Crying cause it’s just too much for you.”

You shake your head as best you can while being pressed against the ground. Your pussy clenches around him though from the description alone.

“Sure,” he chuckles before grunting, “Someone could be watching right now. It’s so fucking dark out here you wouldn’t even know.”

You can’t hide the thrill that gives you. A loud cry tears through you and your hips squirm within his grasp, trying to get you to that peak.

“Yeah, I know you like that,” he growls, leaning down and encasing you with his arms. The new angle lets him piston himself even deeper within you.

He keeps grinding himself into you as you both feel the coils of release getting closer to snapping. One of his arms snakes around your head, his bicep curling around your neck. The plastic front of the ghostface mask presses into the side of your head. He’s grunting and moaning into your ear, bringing you right to the edge.

“I feel it coming, honey. Let it go. Cream on my cock, baby girl. Give it all to me,” he mumbles.

With no reason to hold back, you let your release explode. You writhe in his hold, gasping and crying as euphoria floods your being. You bite your lip and tilt your head back to nuzzle and sloppily kiss at the mask.

He’s not far behind you. A few thrusts later, he’s draining himself in you, filling your insides with hot and sticky cum. His hips sputter and the mask becomes misaligned on his head as the two of you press against each other.

You’re both panting in the end. Leon pulls out and rolls off of you, landing on the ground next to you. You don’t move from your place in the dirt and just look over at him. He tugs off the mask and drops it near the knife. For the first time tonight, you see his charming smile and sweet eyes, a sharp contrast to the performance he just put on. He leans over and gives you a soft kiss as he adjusts the rest of his clothing.

You still don’t move from your position. He sits up and rubs your back again. His hands massage the muscles there for a moment before trailing down your leg. He gently lifts your foot and kisses your ankle.

“Your foot ok, baby?” he asks while rubbing your thigh. Even after all that, he hadn’t forgotten your fall earlier.

“Mhm,” you hum with a nod.

“Ok, good,” he says. 

He starts to help you roll over so you can get up. He smiles at you, brushing some dirt off your cheek.

“Let’s get you home so we can shower,” he says and helps you pull your shorts back on as you sit up. He kisses your temple a few times and strokes your hair, “Then we can cuddle and watch some scary movies.”

That makes you crack a smile, and you kiss his lips.

“Let’s get home quick. It’s cold out here, and I don’t have a shirt anymore thanks to you,” you tease.

You rise to your feet and lean on him for support. He picks up the knife and mask as well as the scrap of cloth that was once your top. He offers it to you with a sheepish smile. You roll your eyes and shake your head.

“Guess, you’ll just have to stay close then,” he says and tucks you under his arm. He kisses the crown of your head before you two start walking back through the woods to your home together.

[we-out-here-simping]

You, Me, Lonely.

(s.h. x reader)

from the river to the sea (educate yourself and help however you can)

Summary: you love Steve, Steve loves you. But maybe you both want different things from life.

Warnings/tags: reader menstruates (reader has uterus), abandonment issues, the ‘six nuggets’ talk, suggestive

Word count: 3.4k

masterlist

a/n: huge huge huge thanks to @procrastinationprincesses for helping me out with this fic and giving it an ending (ur amazing sanjana <3)

writing and posting something because i might have to go MIA for a lil bit (miss me while I'm gone will ya?)

fic is inspired by ‘You, Me, Lonely’ by FIZZ i absolutely love this song like its so close to my heart ughh what can i say I'm a little bitter about the six nuggets scene 

also if you couldn't tell already I have major abandonment issues and an anxious avoidant attachment style. It will reflect in what i write soz :(

In the quiet of the night, you wish for this to last forever. That you'll have him forever.

When you came out of the shower you found him asleep on his side of the bed. His side– the one closer to the door. ‘so I can protect you from anyone who'll try to steal you from me’, he had justified it when you asked him why he was adamant on that side.

you had turned off the bedside lamp ten minutes ago, slipped under the duvet, as quietly as possible so as to not wake him up. on your side of his bed. your bed.

He always sleeps on his stomach, one hand under his pillow and the other extended a little towards yours. His body moves with steady and slow breaths, back rising and falling under the covers, head peeking out from under the rumpled up duvet. his cheeks are squished against the pillow cover. His hair is a mess from the lack of hair product, and still damp from the shower he took before you. There's a few strands of his brown hair sprawled across his forehead too. With your softest touch you brush them away from his eyes.

You wonder what he was dreaming. you hope it was something nice. He looks calm, at peace, and very, very pretty.

You look at him and you know you love him. You want to love him forever.

Love had never seemed like the type of thing you’ll get– like it wasn't meant for you. But then you met him. This boy. This boy who you never thought to be your type. You never thought you even had a type. But his boyish charm and stupid grin won you over.

Your heart doesn't skip beats around him anymore, and you’d think that that means he doesn’t have that same effect on you anymore but that would be wrong. You don’t think you’ve ever loved anyone as much as you do to him. You don’t look at him and get butterflies in your stomach, you look at him and… you’re sure. your heart is quiet and sure. You don't think you’ve ever been sure before.

You want to be sure forever.

He feels like the comfortable still of rain after a scorching hot summer, like the calm and cold breeze that cools you down. Like standing at the top of the mountain, looking at the clouds and valleys below, he feels like the crisp air that fills your lungs. Like the comfort meal your mom makes– the one you can never really recreate, the one that tastes the best when it comes from her. 

You love him and you know. You know. You know he likes you, loves you even. 

Steve Harrington loves you like a dream, and you're worried that one day he’ll wake up, look at you and realise that he deserves so much better. He’ll wake up and he’ll leave for work and he’ll bump into a pretty angel of a girl with a disposition as bright as his. And he’ll never return. people fall out of love. People fall out of love all the time.

You wish for him to love you forever.

How long is a forever anyway?

You wonder what it'll be like. When you're older, with wrinkles, white hair and weaker limbs. 

It's like you see it.

You and him in a bed– just like now but older, wiser, more tired. His back turned to you. There'd be distance between you two, you’d want to move closer and hold him– but you wouldn't. You’d just stare at the back of his head, counting all the grey hairs you’d memorised like all the moles and wrinkles on his skin.

You’d notice his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest and you would have known him so long and so well that you'd just know that he wasn't actually asleep. you'd know why he wasn't asleep.

there'd be a pain in your chest. You would know what it is, why its there. You would gulp and try not to think about it.

“Do you always stare at me in my sleep?” his groggy voice pulls you out of your own head.

You blink, multiple times. Forever, right.

He softly smiles up at you. You blink away before moving to lay on your back, the sheets rustling with your movement. “sorry I woke you up”, you mumble an apology, staring at the ceiling, you fail to hide the shake in your voice.

“Y’kay?” 

“Yeah.” the sheets beside you ruffle but you keep your eyes trained on the ceiling. it seems inevitable. You know, one day it'll happen and despite having expected it, it’ll be the greatest heartbreak of them all. 

“Thinking ‘bout somethin’?” he sounds a bit more awake.

“When am I not?” you shake your head and laugh hoping he doesn't notice that it isn't real, thankful that the curtains didn't let in any moonlight and that you had turned off the lights.

“What is it?” but this is Steve, he doesn’t need to see you to know how you’re feeling.

“Nothing.”

“Were you lying about liking the pasta I made?”

“No, Steve it was good”, a real laugh slips out of you, and you finally look at him. He’s leaning on his elbow, the messy head of hair in his hand, looking down at you. You suddenly wish it wasn’t so dark so you could see the colour of his eyes, the moles and freckles on his skin.

“Then what?”

“Nothing.” your gaze moves back to the ceiling.

“Must be something if it's keeping you up”, you feel him shift closer to you. He smells of fresh shower, mint, shaving cream and washed laundry. 

“No, I'm just….  not sleepy.”

“Yeah?”, he raises his eyebrows with a sly smirk, “Well, I know a way to make you sleepy”, he leans down– both arms caging you in, landing a kiss on your neck before trailing further up to your lips. and its lovely, so god damn lovely, you don't want it to stop but this hurts.

“Ste– mmph– Steve stop”, you turn your face away, because if he keeps going, you think you'll cry, palm pushing flat against his bare chest, “I’m– I'm not in the mood.”

“Okay, I'm sorry”, he moves back onto his one elbow. The silence gestates for a while, you can feel his eyes on you. The ticking of the clock is the only thing heard through the room before he softly says, “Hey, please tell me what's happening?”

“Nothing”, you shook your head, “I’m just tired.”

“You just said you're not sleepy.”

“J– just go back to sleep okay? sorry for waking you up”, you turn onto your side, face away from him. 

He sidles up behind you after a second or two, warm breath across the back of your neck, you squeeze your eyes shut. “yeah, like that's gonna put me to sleep", he mutters behind you.

His arms snake around your waist, pulling you in closer, “C'mon, you know I wont be able to sleep after fighting”, burying his nose in your hair– he sighed.

“Did you just sniff my hair?”

“Yeah, I do all the time. smells s’good."

"You pervert", you both laugh lightly at that, your hand going for his around your waist, before your smiles fall and silence takes over once again. 

You lick your drying lips, you forgot to put on lip balm again, “We’re not fighting, Steve.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You take in a deep breath in, fingers drawing patterns on the back of his hand, you breath out, “m’sorry.”

His arms squeeze tighter around you, he lets out a quick sigh before placing a kiss on your shoulder, “I’ll forgive you if you tell me what’s going on with you.”

“Steve…”, your voice trails off, you're not even sure what you were going to say.

“Is it— Is it your…. Uh, that time of the month?”

That makes you want to roll your eyes at him and smack his chest but you restrain yourself, you’re not sure if you want him to see your eyes right now anyway. Instead, you sigh,  “I had it last week, Steve.”

You got it in this very same bed. Awoken by cramps in the middle of the night. and Steve, your lovely Steve had given you a hot water bag while he took off the sheets and put on fresh new ones and then gave you a soft massage that put you to sleep.

“right... yeah, sorry," he says all sheepish, “So what is it then? Did someone say somethin’ at work?”

“No.”

“Did I.. " he hesitated a little, "did I say something?”

“...no”, you curse yourself for pausing before saying it.

“I did, didn't I?”

“No, no. you–”

“honey, you should tell me if I ever say stupid shit– you should call me out immediately–”

“You didn't say anything stupid or whatever. I'm the one who's being stupid.”

his hold on you loosened, he shifted back to give you space to turn around, “What did I say? Hey, look at me,” you finally turn in his hold, facing him “what did I say?”

“We’d have the cutest little kids, won't we?”

“..what?” You stood infront of the kitchen sink. your hands stopped their scrubbing at the pot you were washing. You tilted your head towards him who had his head rested on your shoulder, his arms around your waist.

“Little Harringtons”, you could hear the smile on his lips.

“Harringtons?”

“Or maybe we get our names hyphenated. That works too, it’d be cute”, his hands hold your waist, his duty of drying the plates abandoned. “They’d have my fabulous hair, and your pretty, pretty eyes– cutest kids around the block”

“Our kids?” you repeated dumbly.

“Yeah, and six of ‘em. six little nuggets. They’ll make up half of a football team”, he giggled, warm air hitting the side of your face, “Doesn’t that sound lovely?” he smiled at you.

“...yeah. Yeah, it does.” you smiled back at him which only made him grin wider. His arms tighten around you again, and lips start a trail from behind your ears to down your neck.

You scoffed softly "You’re supposed to help me wash dishes you filthy animal." 

“Oh, fine,” he gave you an over dramatic sigh, before his hands left your sides, skin feeling lonely as ever.

“No, it's fine. I’m almost done anyway", you went back to scrubbing at the bottom of the pot, "Just go and take a shower, you reek.”

“Alright, fine, I’ll go!” he groaned, playfully as a kid, before he leaned against the counter, looking at you with his ‘Harrington charm’. His voice is silky when he asks, “Will you join me?”

“Steve." you said it almost as a warning.

“I don’t hear a no.”

“Okay then, no.”

“Tomorrow morning…?”

“I have an early shift tomorrow, you horndog.”

“We'll make it work.”

“No.”

“Okay", he sighs, “come up quickly though, I wanna be the big spoon today”, pecking your cheek before leaving for the shower upstairs.

Looking at him, you brush the now mostly dry hair falling on his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. Your fingers lingered there, you smile, “nothing, Steve.”  your thumb rubs back and forth on the apple of his cheeks. “You didn’t say anything. it's stupid.”

His hand reaches up to hold your fingers in place, he turns his head a little to kiss your knuckles, “okay, I didn't say anything” he kisses your knuckles again, gaze stuck to your face, “but could you tell me what it is you think you’re being stupid about?”

God, I love him, you think. “Don't worry about it”, your voice barely a whisper as you attempt to give him a smile. You move closer, planting a slow kiss on his lips which are so much softer than yours– he never forgets his chapstick.

And god, you needed this, your brain stops when you kiss him. thoughts quelled and its quiet again. After some time though, your throat starts to burn and your chest is on the verge of a sob. So, when you pull away, you fail to hide the stuttered breath that you take in.

Steve knew there was something to worry about, but when he hears your breath that almost sounds like a sob, he’s immediately on high alert. Before he can brush your hair out of your face to look at you, really look at you, you bury your face in his chest.

It takes him a second to realize that you’re crying and it breaks his heart because you’re trying to hide it.

“Baby..” he feels you curl in further, your face warm against his skin. He moves to pull you in closer, palm holding the back of your head. He just wanted to take away whatever it was that was bothering you. He tried to pull away to get a look at your face to help you calm down but you wouldn't let him. He settles on carding his fingers through your hair, rubbing circles on the little sliver of exposed skin between your t-shirt and shorts, hoping it gives you some sort of comfort.

"Honey", it is then that you finally let in a shaky breath. he feels the skin where you hid your face get wet maybe with tears, sweat, snot, he didn't care-- he just wanted to take all your pain away.

You both stay that way, and you're suprised by how much you sob, how hard you heave. You weren't sure how long you stayed that way, maybe minutes, maybe hours, however long. It feels like forever.

At this moment, encased in Steve's arms, breath hot against his skin, despite the nose plugged with snot, lashes clumped with tears, eyes squinted shut, you think this is comfortable. Yet it hurts. Because you'll have to pull away. It hurts so damn much because you know how this can go, you know it can hurt so, so much more. You know it will hurt.

You want this to last forever, however fucking long one of those is.

So, you hold on longer because, you’re selfish with your love for Steve. You're selfish because despite the heartache, you’ll have him, for as long as you can.

His hold on you gentle yet firm, as if afraid he'd break you. In your head, he already had. He tries to pull away again, to look at you but you can't. Your eyes still squinted close, willing it all to be a stupid dream. “Honey, I promise you whatever it is, you can tell me”, he says, voice soft as feather. Of course it's not a dream.

Your tongue betrays you, “Its…s–” stupid. Silly. It really doesn't feel stupid or silly, but god, you're so scared that you can't say it, you didn't want to say it because if you do it’ll come true, wont it?

“Whatever it is that you think is stupid," he assured you as if he could read your mind, "I still want to hear it because I know I won't think it's stupid."

suddenly it burns, and you need air. you sit up and try not to think about how ridiculously not pretty you probably look with snot running down your face, “What if- what if we- we end up hating each other?” you manage to say through hiccups.

“What?” he sits up as well, he says as if you had said the most ridiculous thing, “I'll never hate you, honey.”

For some reason, tears fill your eyes again at that, “Steve, you don’t know that.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“No. Ste– people fall out of love, Steve- all the- all the time.” It terrifies him how convinced you sound of it.

“Do..... do you think you’ll fall out of love with me?”

The question startles you, its evident in your wide eyes, “Wha– what?”

“Do you think… you’ll fall out of love with me?" he repeats, "You think you’ll hate me?”

You shake your head, the tear that had been sitting on your lower lash finally slides down your already tear-stained cheek.

“Good." he wipes the wet trails left behind with his thumb, "then, why would I hate you?”

Your face twists into an expression that Steve wasn't sure what to describe it as. a deep frown on your lips, chin wobbly, brows scrunched up together, eyes red and tired yet nostrils flared. “‘Cause", you start but before you could continue another sob leaves you. you look down at your lap, trying to catch your breath. it takes you a minute before you begin again, "do you remember.... what you said about our kids?”

He nods, heart clenching at the way your voice breaks, “I don't think I can… do that”, he doesn't think he's ever heard you sound so broken. “I– I don't think if I– if I want that.”

He sits silent and you think this is it. maybe forevers aren't that long after all.

More tears fall, more sobs leave you, you don't bother to wipe them. What's it matter anyway? He hates you already. He's probably thinking of a way to let you down easily because he is kind like that “Honey.. I want a family..” you feel your heart ripping in two and you just can't look at him.

“And I want you to be a part of that family. I– I want you to be the person I built a family with, no matter the size." He wipes at both your cheeks again, making you look at him, "even if its just us.”

The relieved smile he expected from you isn't there, instead, you frown, the crease between your brows deepens. the part that hurt the most was that you push his hands away, “you’re saying that now, but what happens when years down the line, when we’re old, you– you end up resenting me. Y- you love me right now, I know. But how do you know you wont end up hating me like, ten years later?”

“I dont want to watch you grow old and hate me and then leave me, Steve. I’d rather end this now if we’re destined to just end up unhappy together.”

“We’re not. Okay? We’re not. I know I wont hate you, ever.” He reaches for your hands again. He kisses your fingers before continuing, “And I know that I want you, just you and whatever that– that that comes with. We could never have kids and I would never hate you for it.”

“You won't be happy", you say meekly, like he'd be mad at you for speaking what was on your mind to him, “You wont hate me but you wont be happy either”, you muttered, chin ducked into your chest.

“Honey”, he hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your head to make you look at him, to make you understand. “you’re what I need to be happy. You make me happy. And.. I’d hope you need me to be happy too”, a wet chuckle escapes you at that. A hint of a smile on your face despite the tears.

“You do, don’t you?” he clarified with a soft smile of himself.

You nod, "yeah", letting out a loud sniffle.

“Good. I know its scary but you’ve gotta put your trust in me. Trust me enough to believe in me when I say that you are what makes me happy. and I am happy."

He wipes away gently at your face, ridding it of the tear stains, “Sometimes, you’ve just gotta trust. I promise I’ll never break it.” 

You sob again but it's lighter than before, you wrap your arms around his neck and feel the weight you felt get lifted, you sniffle into the crook of his neck, "thank you."

You feel his lips on your hairline, "Let's go back to sleep, yeah?"

"Yeah. You still wanna be the big spoon?"

"yeah, I think you need to be the little spoon today." he pulls you down with him, your back to his chest, kissing the skin behind your ear he finally settles in beside you.

You call out his name, he hums in response. "how long do you think a forever is?"

"I don't know, honey."

"Can we stay like this forever?"

"Um.. if you mean us staying forever then yes, definitely forever. But, if you meant me being the big spoon forever, baby, I'm not sure if I'll be able to commit to that."

You laugh, "I love you." you confess.

"I love you too."

[inklore]

if it's one thing your girl is great at it's making a million different google docs full of lists full of resources, ideas, etc that will help future me when it comes to posting fics.

fic titles are literally one of the biggest lists i have and not even in a perfect world where i write ten fics a day would i ever be able to use all of these, and i don't like to see things go to waste, and i know there's people out there that struggle with titles as much as i do. so i hope this list comes in handy for someone!

i don't think i need to say this but just in case: no one owns fic titles, anyone can use these, a dozen people or one or none. these are literally just words and letters. no one owns them. sharing is caring, enjoy lovies!

★ — ONE WORD.

overboard 

runaway 

repercussions 

sledgehammer 

stargazing 

symmetry 

deathless 

honey 

retrograde 

stitches 

gravity 

helpline 

hollow 

suffer 

pushing 

warrant 

want 

wonder 

emotions 

nonchalant 

lavender 

daydream 

nosebleed 

jigsaw 

static 

float 

limbs 

hologram 

careless 

lush 

rotting 

phonograph 

hypnotic 

splinters 

magnetic 

wasted 

lithium 

dealer 

she

candles 

sabotage 

secrets

better

crescendo

deny

phenomenon

nights

guilty

move

criminal

blue

rise

thirsty

strangers

clockwork

closer

hectic

change

somebody

more

misery

like

sour

lowkey

peaches

she

nervous

sympathy

scars

disappear

melody

gemini

cruel

persona

supernatural

nectar

obsessed

casual

tryant

xo

dare

honestly

yummy

out

paradise

nuts

groin

heaven

lost

stardust

tangerine

monolith

lunch

pov

perfume

dealer

tough

arson

★ — TWO WORDS.

hush hush

night away

heart stop

stone heart

waiting for

black rose

sad kids

spine breaker

look here

autumn leaves

for you

spring day

love maze

bad decisions

take two

wild flower

blue side

rainy days

face off

slow dancing

polar night

like crazy

club heaven

deeper water

romantic devil

hold me

angel eyes

picture you

after midnight

twilight zone

drain me

sorry sorry

pretty please

how sweet

bubble gum

empty box

love therapy

play me

red velvet 

cherry bullet 

midnight guest 

cherry wish 

code words

ghost walk

bad intentions 

atlas hands 

broken crown 

crystallized words 

filthy pride 

fresh eyes 

heavy feet 

hungry ghosts 

imaginary paintings 

neon jungle 

perfect storm 

slow hands 

stop signs 

sad farewells 

untranslated stars 

after hours 

bad liar 

bonfire heart 

bruised lips 

cherry bomb 

damaged goods 

dead end 

fire away 

gunpowder hourglass 

lonely together 

lost language 

old moons 

one dance 

paper knees 

sleepy eyes 

stolen dance 

vice city 

artificial heart 

cry baby 

daylight fading 

dream awake 

empty bottle 

exit wounds 

ghost orchards 

moving stones 

paper walls 

oceans away 

playing fiction 

something wild 

wild thoughts 

everybody’s fool 

eyes closed 

storms incarnate 

writing tragedies 

stereo driver 

soul searching 

party’s over 

backseat driving 

fearful heart 

backwards directions 

nosebleed seats 

high hopes 

lovers rock

wet dream 

selfish soul 

washed away 

rose rogue 

midnight sun 

teenage fantasy 

wandering romance 

sure thing 

wildest dreams 

rock candy

losing momentum 

ruin you 

heart holiday 

sink her 

cut splinters 

hot mess 

frozen devotion 

little star 

blind faith 

favorite crime 

romantic homicide 

those eyes 

play pretend 

plot line 

pretty poison 

intimidate you 

pretty face 

strawberry kisses 

lovers rock 

worlds apart 

desperate/separate ways 

those eyes 

the blonde 

loving machine 

spill blood

someone’s someone

★ — THREE WORDS.

got my number

happy without me

not over you

crazy for you

back to you

flame of love

just one day

let me know

hold me tight

make it right

closer than this

love me again

still with you

out of love

never let go

love in space

ready to bleed 

bleed for love

between the bars 

can’t be still

cold morning mist 

in cold blood

matter of time 

piece by piece 

ship to wreck 

taut with love 

waste a moment 

can’t see straight 

down and out 

in a blackout 

just like fire 

notes on tenderness 

across the room

fire with fire 

going half-mad

loving to ruins 

rust to gold

send my love 

talking in code 

cradling a dream 

cut to black 

dear to me 

run me dry 

dancing with demons 

kiss and tell 

if you care 

the cry out 

steal this night 

just for now 

heart on fire 

hold my head 

nobody but you 

simple and plain

a familiar sound 

fool for you 

drown your memory 

falling into you 

just like heaven 

warm like beaches 

love that stings 

rotting in places 

moves on you 

save your tears 

a single tear 

light my cigarette 

long nights, daydreams 

boys like you 

love me forever 

hands on me 

like a phonograph 

taking over me 

dug so deep 

touch the ground 

heart shaped box 

where’s my love

tears of gold

lover of mine 

love me wrong

kiss or kill 

exes and why’s 

love is easy 

stupid in love 

easy to love

lost with you 

glimpse of us 

keep you safe 

death with dignity 

just like heaven 

heart of glass 

baby i’m yours 

pull my strings 

★ — FOUR+ WORDS.

love me a little

happy without me

you can't hold my heart

wishing on a star

give it to me

around the world in a day

waste it on me

this mess is yours

feeling like i do 

on a war path 

blood on the surface 

corner of the sky 

do the divine love 

drinking the corinthian sun 

everything is laced in (add word) 

lost in the moment 

in the nick of time 

mouth like a pomegranate 

the bones you’re made of 

when the mania speaks 

all desire & no thought 

blue in the face 

collapsing and relapsing 

middle of the night 

sail to the sun 

lay down your arms 

falling into the sky 

take me where your heart is 

she’s like the bad weather 

kill for your love 

the cigarette and the smoker 

the match and the fuse 

saint, i’m a sinner 

when the sky comes falling 

pretty little hand in mine 

even when the sun don’t shine

staring at the sun / sunset 

tangled up with you all night 

paper airplanes flying 

maybe i’m a fool 

tastes like rock candy 

blood in a lemon

(a) heart ready to die 

fate is losing its patience 

at least we feel alive 

death for your secrets 

someone’s gonna ruin you 

dancing in a crowded room 

smell you on my clothes 

always taste like you 

leave me wanting more 

hunger for (insert here) 

swim before you drown 

put your hands on me 

drink my (these) tears and cry 

i’d sleep all day just to dream of you 

so high we never stood a chance 

i’d break down anytime for you 

maybe i’m wrong, or maybe it’s true 

i only breathe so that i breathe with you

a worn out cassette 

lips on my cold neck 

talking in my sleep 

make me feel like someone else 

locked inside your heart 

hooked on her flesh 

it’s bloody and raw 

the angel of small death 

just a couple sinners 

smiles cover your heart 

charmer and the snake 

stuck on your thumb 

if i killed someone for you 

dancing with your ghost 

i miss you, i’m sorry 

woman of the hour 

shut up and look pretty 

queen of the night 

devil in a dress 

the thought of you 

to be your lover 

falling over you 

just like a movie 

love on the line 

[devildomwriter]

Ten Manga I Think They’d Enjoy

Lucifer

He likes manga that reads like classic literature, dark stories, mysteries, psychological stories, and occasionally something sweet or cute

Monster, Devilman, Children of the Sea, A Country Without Humans, Doomsday With My Dog, Island in a Puddle, Erased, For the Kid I Saw In My Dreams, Innocent, Shonen Note

Mammon

He likes stories involving his personal hobbies like working on cars, gambling, etc. he also enjoys funny stories and secretly cute romances or relatable romances

The Brave-Tuber, Call of the Night, Fruits Basket, Life Lessons With Uramichi Oniisan, Initial D, Fairy Tail, Chio’s School Road, Gambling Apocolypse, Kakeguri, Prince Freya

Leviathan

Leviathan loves everything but he’s especially a fan of gaming manga, magical girls, monster girls, isekai, and the classics

That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime, Black Butler, Berserk, Darling in the Franxx, Dragon Goes House Hunting, I Want to Be A Wall, The Great Snake’s Bride, Puella Magi Madoka, Sailor Moon, Magical Girl Incident

Satan

Satan loves manga that reads like classical literature but he also loves stories about cats, dark mysteries, psychological stories and ones with characters he finds relatable

Chi’s Sweet Home, Ascendance of a Bookworm, Ex-Yakuza and Stray Kitten, Evil Secret Society of Cats, I Am a Cat Barista, Case Closed, Night of the Living Cat, Natsume’s Book of Friends, Summertime Rendering, The Promised Neverland

Asmodeus

Asmodeus mostly enjoys romance whether it’s cute and fluffy or extremely erotic

Ouran High School Host Club, Lovesick Ellie, Monster Musume, MADK, Yarichin Bitch Club, Cherry Magic!, Dick Fight Island, Sweat and Soap, Shiori’s Diary, Nina the Starry Bride

Beelzebub

Beelzebub is a big fan of manga involving food but he also enjoys a good action adventure and sports manga

Food Wars, Delicious in Dungeon, Farming Life in Another World, Mashle, Sachi’s Monstrous Appetite, Starving Anonymous, Something’s Wrong With Us, Eyeshield 21, Kaiju No 8, Campfire Cooking in Another World With My Absurd Skill

Belphegor

Belphegor likes stories with relatable characters which can be hard to find but he also loves adventures, horror, and Slice of life; he’s a little all over the place

Sleep Princess in the Demon’s Castle, The Girl From the Other-side, Hell’s Paradise, Mieruko-Chan, Tokyo Aliens, Shibuya Goldfish, Non Non Biyori, Kemono Jihen, Beyond the Clouds, Laid Back Camp

Solomon

Solomon loves compelling narratives, dark psychological stories, stories that take a deeper look a humanity and immortality, and one’s that involves demons/angels/sorcerers. He does also love cat books like Satan

Death Note, Creepy Cat, No Longer Human, Devils and Realist, Frieren, Made in Abyss, Mao, Sakamoto Days, A School Frozen in Time, Stein’s Gate, Happiness

Thirteen

Thirteen is a little all over the place, she likes to see what’s popular but she also enjoys slashers, one’s that take a closer look at death and spirits, and dark romance

Elfen Lied, Attack on Titan, Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid, Momo the Blood Taker, Assassination Classroom, Can’t Stop Cursing You, Love of Kill, Angels of Death, Vampire Knight, Toilet Bound Hanako Kun

Simeon

Simeon enjoys reading manga that have some religious aspects, he likes ones about authors since they are relatable, and he enjoys some random ones here and there that are cute or funny. He’s also a sucker for a pure romance

Heaven’s Design Team, Gabriel Dropout, The King’s Beast, Merman in My Tub, My Girlfriend’s Child, A Sign of Affection, Tsubaki Chou Lonely Planet, An Incurable Case of Love, Monthly Girl’s Nozaki Kun, Perfect World

Raphael

Raphael canonically likes coming of age sports dramas. I believe he’s also he amused by one’s involving ant Christian aspects about angels and demons, heaven and hell. He also enjoys one’s that include his hobbies like security, military, and anything to do with fashion

Blue Lock, Haikyu, Blue Exorcist, Vatican Miracle Examiner, Maiden of the Needle, My Dress Up Darling, Not Sew Wicked Step Mother, Witch Hat Atelier, A Bride’s Story, Wind Breaker

Luke

Luke loves to try everything but his books are monitored to make sure he doesn’t stumble upon anything inappropriate for his age ana angel status. He loves ones about food, animals, adventure, and a good slice of life or 4-panel.

Happy Happy Clover, Yuzu the Pet Vet, Yotsuba&!, Sui and Tai-Chan, My Hero Academia, Demon Slayer, Dinosaur Sanctuary, Kitchen Princess, Astro Boy, Naruto

Michael

Michael enjoys funny books, one’s that take a closer look at humanity and war, classical adaptations, and one’s involving angels and demons.

Spy X Family, Maximum Ride, Takane and Hana, Obey Me! The Comic, Mr Villain’s Day Off, Hetalia: Axis Powers, Les Miserables, Apothecary Diaries, Deer King, Yona of the Dawn

Mephistopheles

Mephistopheles likes books that involve history, nobility, prestigious jobs, mystery, and equestrian sports. He also enjoys one’s about demons and servants.

From the Red Fog, Derby Queen, The Elusive Samurai, Imperfect Girl, Peach Boy Riverside, The Splendid Work of the Monster Maid, Tales of the Kingdom, Tokyo Ghoul, Noragami, The Rose of Versailles

Barbatos

Barbatos prefers books that are dark and disturbing as well as insightful books on time, immortality, grief, morality vs law, etc.

Phantom Tales of the Night, My Dear Curse Casting Vampiress, A Silent Voice, Orange, Moriarty the Patriot, Nicola Traveling Around the Demon World, Royal Tutor, Usatoki Rhetoric, The Valiant Must Fall, To Your Eternity

Diavolo

Diavolo absolutely loves cute family manga, funny manga, one’s that involve demons and angels, cute romances, and exciting action and adventure. He isn’t picky and will read anything if it’s been recommended to him.

Wolf Childen, Earthian, The Devil is a Part-Timer, Seraph of the End, Mama Akuma, Little Devils, Cells at Work, Snow White With Red Hair, The Vampire and His Pleasant Companions, Azumanga Diaoh

[patroxlos]

home base . ch7

"friends who use their phones in bed" - 5.4k words

ultraman: rising (2024). kenji sato x reader

can be read as a stand-alone. However, if you want to read their first kiss, you may do so for added context.

master post. ao3 link.

previous: ch6. "friends who are stuck together"

next: ch7. "friends who are for the people"

cw: EXPLICIT. First time fellatio. frottage.

Two weeks after your first kiss, you and Kenji get more comfortable with your new dynamic as friends with benefits.

And even in the heat of things, you still find something to argue about.

---

Los Angeles, Ten Years Ago.

“Any plans for tomorrow?”

You look up from your dinner as your Auntie Emiko asked. She sits across you at the dining table where you sat beside Ken. “Hm…I think we might stay in again for the day. Right, Ken?”

Ken is in the middle of shoveling some more grilled salmon into his mouth when you redirect the attention to him, and he nods in agreement, his voice muffled. His mom and you have matching looks of disgust on your face as he tries to speak with his mouth full.

“…yeah. It is stay-in day tomorrow,” you confirm.

Emiko looks puzzled. “But Kenji doesn’t have practice tomorrow. Don’t you guys want to head out to the city?”

“We don’t really know what else to see,” you say a lame excuse. In response, she curiously looks at you then at Ken, who finally swallows his food.

“You both rarely leave your room lately when last month you were bouncing to explore the whole state.”

“Training really tires me out,” Ken smoothly responds, rolling his neck from side to side in an exaggerated stretch. “Leaves me with no energy to want to do anything else. After a week on the field all I want to do is lie back.”

She pauses momentarily as she looks at her son, and you force yourself to maintain a calm demeanor. Is she onto us? “Maybe…when you have your days in, you can leave the door unlocked and open?”

Before Ken can protest, you subtly step on his foot to tell him, Don’t complain.

“Is this because you feel lonely, Auntie?” You ask sweetly. Emiko looks a bit taken aback by your question. “I understand it might feel like you’re all alone in the house when Kenji and I are holed up just playing video games together.”

“I…I guess it does…” She let her guard down slightly around you. She can expect Kenji to pull something, but you? The daughter she never had?

“How about tomorrow morning we head to brunch? Just the two of us! We can even schedule a last minute appointment to the salon,” you spun the dream mother-daughter bonding day. “We’ll be back in time for Kenji to wake up at noon.”

“Hey I don’t wake up—”

“Of course we can spend the morning together.” Your auntie places her hand over her heart, touched. All business with the door and how they spend their time completely forgotten.

She does not need to know what you and Ken do in your spare time nowadays.

And with the door locked for the evening, she definitely does not need to know how the sweet little girl she is so fond of has her head in-between her son’s legs.

“What was that earlier?” Ken asks, breathless. He sat up by his arms as he looks down at you, tracing with his gaze the path your lips followed, edging closer to the front of his boxers. You left the lights on, and it reflects off your trail of saliva on his inner thighs.

You don’t respond immediately, busying yourself with the soft, flexible skin good enough to bite. You expect everything about him to be taut and firm, an athlete to his core. It’s cute that he can get so pliable when your touch melts him like so. You anchor your palms at the back of his legs to hold him open as you continue to tease his thighs.

You hear your name tumble out of his mouth when your tongue swipes a fat line at his growing bulge, against the salty wet spot of his boxers, his muscles tensing under your hold. “You really want to talk about your mom right now?”

“I…I— oh…” He can’t think straight when you start nuzzling your face against his swelling size. “Shit—”

You continue to lick him through the fabric, his musk filling your senses. You try not to giggle when you feel him twitching eagerly against your tongue. You lift your head to give a small kiss once more to his thigh. “Mind taking it off?”

You’re still fully clothed, in your sleep shirt and shorts, compared to him. Shakily, he pushes himself to sit up properly. His hands reach for the elastic band of his boxers, trying his best not to look too eager when you help him tug it off his legs. Without the fabric keeping it down, his dick jumps to attention, long with a slight curve towards his right.

“Take it slow…” he encourages you, his voice a little breathless as you lower your head closer to his wet tip. He deeply inhales when you clasp your left hand around his base. His eyes screw shut, the anticipation making his toes curl.

A pleasant prickle crawls up his spine when he feels your warm, moist breath hit the head of his cock.

Your hand slides up along his thick vein, following his natural curve.

And as soon as it started, he feels a draft of cool air down below when you move away.

“Wait.” You back up and reach for your phone nearby on the mattress. “What’s the next step again?”

Ken freezes, and opens his eyes.

You’re busy tapping out your lockscreen passcode.

Ken flops backwards to the bed, his palms covering his face in frustration. “Oh, fuck me—”

“I’m getting there,” you snap as you scroll through your digital notes.

He groans impatiently, his erection growing painful as it stands proud in the air. His legs are still spread wide. “Just put your mouth on it, I said I’ll teach you.”

“And I said to wait.” You crawl back between his legs but your gaze doesn’t lift from your phone. “Maybe you should sit at the edge of the bed and I’ll kneel down? Or maybe sideways in case you want to finger me while we—”

“The current position is fine…” He tries to sit back up but you push him down with a hand on his chest.

You begin to mutter to yourself, running through the steps you have written down. “Mmm… warmed you up, yeah…consent?” You look up from your phone to Ken expectantly.

He rolls his eyes. “Yes, you did have my consent,” He hisses.

“Okay…hm…take of your shirt, kiss down your chest, tease your inner thighs…leave a few marks?” You glance down, at his legs. “Haha, yeah, nice—”

“Are you done? Because I’m growing soft here.”

“Hey, keep it hard, I’m doing my best,” you whine.

“Well all this talk isn’t helping.” He swats your hand away and successfully sits up, his elbows resting on his knees as you still sat in between his legs.

You roll your eyes and put down your phone to remove your shirt, exposing a modest bra. “There, have something to look at.”

“Can you at least take off your—” He does not finish the sentence as you throw the bra at his face. Grumbling some more, he tosses it to the side.

Normally, fooling around with you isn’t so clinical. Ever since your first kiss by the pool almost two weeks ago, it’s hard to remember a time when his hands aren’t on you. Your normal trips around town are now defined by rough makeouts in alleyways and end in hurried handjobs at the backseat of his jeep when you cannot wait to get back home. Your touch is an aphrodisiac at this point, and he fears he may overdose. Maybe you should have had separate rooms, because he is starting to feel the recklessness of his libido.

Because when you asked him the previous night if he could help you learn how to give a blowjob, he nearly skips training earlier today in anticipation for what is to come.

Apparently, no one is going to come at all now with how Type A you are with something as instinctual as oral sex.

Normally he will find it cute how your nervousness can translate to overpreparing. However, he needs to figure out how to turn your brain off.

“Okay, look…” He reaches forward to touch your bare shoulder. You hesitantly rest your phone on your lap as you hear him out. “How about you lie down and I eat you out? How about that?”

“No,” you reject him immediately, like how you rejected him the dozen other times he asked, offered and even begged. “I want to do you first.”

Even if you’re both equally stubborn, Ken still tries to be patient with you. Slowly, he shifts closer, pressing himself against you as he begins to rub your arm. “But, princess, how are you going to know whether a guy is doing it right if you won’t let me go down on you?”

“I don’t think this arrangement allows for pet names,” you huff, and he rolls his eyes. “Besides, I don’t get why you want to that much.”

“Baby,” he sees your eyes twitch, “it’s because you taste good.”

You slap his knee, flushing from the obscene compliment, but you can’t say anything back.

Taking it as a good sign, he lets his hand drift a bit lower to your waist, giving you a light massage. You let out a deep sigh, and you lean forward to give him a kiss, reaching forward to clasp around his girth. Your other hand loosens its grip on your phone, and it falls off your lap and onto the ruffled navy bed covers. 

He groans into your mouth deliciously with every shallow pump. Your lips are gentle, yet deliberate, and he marvels at just how good you move against him when you were a stammering amateur weeks ago.

You pull away, slowly, yet your hand still loosely holds him. Your thumb lightly swipes the slit of his head and his mouth falls open.

“You always make me feel good,” you murmur. “I want to make you feel it too. Wanna prove to you that I deserve it. You teach me so much so I want to show off what I now know.”

“God you’re so stupid.” He laughs without malice. “You don’t have to blow me to prove anything. I already told you that if the guy likes you enough it’ll always feel good.”

“You don’t like me that way though,” you point out. “So I need to prove my skills.”

“What skills?” He makes a face. “You can’t automatically expect yourself to be the blowjob expert on your first time. Just feel it out and avoid showing teeth. It isn’t something you can just practice—“

You turn away.

“…you practiced?”

“…I wanted to impress you?” You fiddle with your phone. “I studied really hard and tried to apply what I learned—“

“Woah woah, did you— did you, with other guys—“

“No! No, I never…I practiced in other ways.”

Neither of you understand why his body sags with so much relief when you say that, or why it mattered if you did anyway.

Still, he needs to pry. “So…how?”

“God I’m not telling you, you pervert.”

“Your hand is on my dick.”

You smear said hand against his face, his pre-cum wiped against his nose. He laughs and grabs your wrist with his left to keep your hand there.

“What are you doing?” You tug to get your hand back but he keeps it right in front of him.

“Just look at me.” His exhale tickles your fingertips.

And without breaking eye contact, his mouth opens a bit more, then closes softly over your index and middle fingers.

“K-Kenji?”

He responds with a gentle suckle, his lips passing your second knuckle. You feel the rough texture of his tongue run over your fingertips, pressing flat against its pads. A soft whimper leaves you, as a familiar heat unfurls from deep within. He notices the way your legs unconsciously shift closer, seeking pressure to alleviate your spreading itch. He chuckles, and the vibrations run through your body and settle just below your navel.

The entire time he continues to watch you, catching every quiver of your lip and twitch of your brow. He’s let go of your wrist at this point, yet you hardly notice, your eyes fixated on how your fingers disappear into his mouth.

You only break from your stupor when he scrapes you with his teeth.

“Ah— Kenji!” You flinch, and he chuckles as you take your fingers out his mouth.

“And that’s what I mean by no teeth, except it’ll be ten times worse down there.”

You cradle your hand to your bare chest, then slowly nod in understanding. “Okay…I see…”

“Did it feel good?” He smiles wider when you glare back. “Don’t be shy, baby, tell me.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sweetheart.”

He lives to make life harder for you. You push down your pride. “Yes, Ken, it did.”

“How good?”

“Don’t.”

He grabs your waist to pull you onto his lap, and you hardly resist. Your legs fold beneath you as his own straightens out. You stabilize yourself on his shoulders, and as you properly sat onto him, you feel his dick wedged between your abdomens. You can feel him throb against your clit, only separated by two thin layers of fabric.

His head dips down to the top of your breasts, his hair tickling your nose as he begins to lightly kiss the start of your cleavage. He stretches the band of your shorts before snapping it back against your hips. “You’re overly dressed.”

“H-Hngh… can’t take it off tonight until— ah, shit—let me taste you.” Your stubbornness will be the death of you.

“Dumb rule,” he sasses back, before he cups your right breast to push it upwards to his mouth.

You nearly cry out, the hot wet sensation on your nipple and the soft massage of your breasts are a dangerous combination. You rock your hips forward on his lap, greedy for more. His teeth grazes your nipple in response, hissing harshly when he feels the underside of his cock scratch pleasantly against your shorts.

Your head is thrown back, and your eyes are tightly closed. His hair brushes against your chin as his tongue makes its way to your left breast. He smiles against your soft flesh, rolling your hard bud around in his mouth. “Shit, you’re getting close from this?”

You sharply tug his hair, pulling him off your chest, too embarrassed to admit that you are. Yet, instead of the annoyed grunt you expected, the pain on his scalp causes Ken to let out a strangled moan. Oh, you are stunned, he’s freakier than you thought.

He grins, bringing his left hand up to cup your face. You rest your cheek in his palm and your lips part, sighing at his foolishness. He rests his thumb on your bottom lip, coaxing you to open up further. “Your turn.”

“Hm?” You hum against his touch.

“Show me.”

Maintaining eye contact as he had done, you gently kiss the tip of his thumb, until you take it whole into your mouth.

“Oh fuck…”

His right hand grasps your hips to guide you into a rocking motion on his lap. You pant as you grind against him, the head of his cock tapping against your belly button. He presses down on your tongue, as you lean more into his palm for support. As your panting slows, you begin to suck lewdly on his thumb to stop yourself from being too loud.

You are close. Shit.

And he can tell from your sloppy pace as you grind against him without any real rhythm, to the fucked out look in your eyes. The only goal bouncing in your empty brain is release.

“Can’t even talk?” He teases. His balls feel heavy and painful as you suck his thumb, and he aches to feel your mouth elsewhere. “Open wider, princess.”

Your eyes narrow slightly, showing you’re not as out of it as he expected you to be, but still you comply. His thumb slides out, replaced by his index and middle finger. Your eyes flutter closed, puckering your lips to take more of him in. You gag as his fingers nearly brush the back of your tongue, and the sound shoots straight to his dick. You haven’t even fit it fully in your mouth yet.

 “Fuck…god you’re so hot. You’re also so, so stupid.”

You let out a garbled protest, still every bit of the fighter you are, yet he pushes his fingers deeper into your mouth until your front teeth nearly scrapes against the base knuckles. Your chest heaves at the sudden intrusion, yet you clench your thighs at the sides of his lap.

“Do you think I’d do this for just anyone?” He interrogates you, fully knowing you can’t respond. “You’re so smart, baby, but god can you be so fucking clueless.”

The other hand on your hips slides towards your shorts and dips low over your clit, rubbing circles over the fabric as you reach your high. Ken’s ego swells as you suck his fingers harder, your senses going overdrive from the pleasure.

“You’re getting off to this?”

His fingers are spat out of your mouth when you fall forward to rest your forehead on his shoulder, trembling from his touch. “Fuck you, Sato. Fuck you fuck you—“

“That’s it, ride it out…” He coos, kissing the side of your head as he slips his hand into your shorts to directly stroke you through your orgasm. He lightly pinches your bud. His other hand pats your hair soothingly. “You can bite, I don’t mind.”

You sob as your teeth bluntly sinks into his shoulder, and he groans from the pain and the dampness that coats his fingers. His dick weeps against your stomach from neglect.

You raise your head as he cleans his fingers with his mouth, groaning at your taste. “Oh god—” he curses even if this is far from the first time he has had a sample of you.

“Don’t…be dramatic,” your words are slightly slurred as you calm down from your high.

He kisses you in response, his neediness spilling out and his grip digging into your waist. He swallows your gasp as he guides you down to the mattress, caging you down with his body. “Please…” He murmurs against your lips when his thumbs hook on the band of your shorts.

He begins to pull it down by an inch.

You roughly push him away by his shoulders, appalled. “Motherfucker, you’ve been trying to distract me.”

“And I was so close too,” he grumbles when you catch him, and he tries to lean back in but you hold him at arm's length, your hands splayed against his defined pectorals. “You get all ditzy when you’re in it.”

“No.”

“Fuck, please just a little taste…” He lifts one hand from your shorts to cup your mound, your wetness having seeped through the cotton. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

You kick him lightly on the shin in response, and he rolls his eyes. You push him off of you, and he does not resist, but he still pulls you close to his side as you sit up on the bed. His hand tries to dip once more into your shorts but you stop it just as it tries to pass your navel. “I just came.”

“That’s even better.”

You shove him back down onto the bed, trying to resume your position from the start of the night. His dick blooms an angry red now, frustrated from being ignored for so long. “That looks like it hurts,” you comment as you settle in between his legs again.

“It does,” he confirms, pushing himself up by his arms as he lays bare, all for you.

You have always been intimidated by his length, and every time you hold it you worry at the back of your mind just how on earth it would even fit if you two ever cross that point. Of course you’ve never told Ken— he doesn’t need to know you’ve deeply thought about how he might feel inside you, or how the curve of his dick may pulse against your walls.

“Are you just going to stare at it?” He snaps you out of your thoughts. Ken tilts his head to the side, a bored look on his face.

Flustered, you shake your head immediately. “I-I just need a moment to…”

“You know, there’s a way to ease your nerves.”

“Really? What is it?”

“So the first step involves my tongue against your—“

“Ken. I’ll smother you in your sleep.”

“You know how many girls would kill for their boyfriends to go down on them?” He continues.

“Well you’re not my boyfriend.”

“Exactly, because boyfriends don’t go down on you. And with your type for guys I definitely don’t think any of them would be as generous as me right now,” he says as if it is fact. He’s conceited, but wouldn’t you also be if you were in his position?

Think about it. No one else can give you as good of a first time as he can, because no one knows you like he does. He pities you, really. Because no other guy would be as patient and careful as he is with you. They won’t take the time to hold you the way he does, to feel for what you like and push your comfort zone. No, all other boys just care about getting their dick wet, and they won’t even look half as good as him. You’re too pretty to settle for anyone less than himself. Six foot and still growing. A wide chest, slim waist. And he knows you know he’s a lot bigger than average. He has visible abs for god’s sake, does that mean nothing to you? It’s terrible but he is such a good, giving best friend. He could’ve left you alone to kiss mediocre boys and eventually marry a mediocre man, most likely someone your parents picked out for you. And you’ll never know the touch of what you deserve. He’s doing this for you. So at least when you go on to pursue whoever can give you that mediocre love, you’ll always know there’s someone better out there. It’s cruel to curse you to a perpetual state of wanting, but he can’t help it. You deserve the world, and you need to feel what it’s like to have it all, even if you may never find what you had with him ever again in someone else.

And Ken wishes he can say all that to you, but he knows you’ll just bash him on the head for even implying that you can’t get any better than him. Except he won’t even be implying. You just don’t get it— he can’t imagine anyone being good enough for you.

Unaware of his internal monologue, you search around for your phone. “Okay, but let me run through my notes again—”

You reach for it when you spot it close to his foot, but he reaches for it faster. He grabs your phone and flings it towards the sofa.

“Ken what the hell—”

He pulls you back between his legs, stopping you from chasing after it. “Don’t.”

“You could’ve broke my screen!” You nearly shout even if your phone is safe amongst the sofa pillows.

“I’m a varsity baseball player. You think I don’t know how to aim?”

“I can’t believe you—”

“Do you want to suck my dick or not?”

“I do!” You say weakly. You really do.

“Then you need to get it in your head that you’re being an idiot.”

You try to slap him but he grabs your wrist.

“Not every guy is blessed to have a pretty girl willing to even touch them, and if it’s you? You’re practically doing charity. All you have to do is bat your eyes and drool a bit and they’ll come before your lips even touch the tip.”

You’re…oddly reassured.

“Sweetheart,” he continues, sarcastic. “Why do you think we’ve been messing around this entire time?”

You’re confused, but answer anyway. “Because you’re helping me learn how to—”

“Wrong.” He cuts you off. “We don’t have to makeout all the time to teach you how to do it.”

You think for a moment. “Practice?”

“We cuddle.”

“Okay, that doesn’t mean anything—”

“Exactly. It doesn’t mean anything. So why are you trying to tackle this like I’m grading you?” He gets you there.

You actually don’t know what there is to be nervous about. And why are you giving him the satisfaction that he does make you nervous?

“Listen, we’re not dating, and I’m mature enough to admit that this ‘teach ‘me’ thing is just an excuse. You like this. I like this. We’re friends who make each other feel good and there’s nothing weird about it.”

His grip loosens on your wrist, but holds it just the same.

Your shoulders slump, realization sinking in. Kenji is right.

He presses your hand onto his chest, and gently, he drags it downwards. You swallow, still scared, but you let him take charge. “I’ll talk you through it,” he murmurs. “So don’t think.”

You feel him purposely brush your fingers against his toned core, just to let you feel how deep the ridges are. You snort, and give him a look to say ‘really?’ Arrogant prick. Show-off.

He ignores you, and soon, he guides your hands to touch the pulsing base of his cock. “Gently,” he whispers, “It hurts a bit now, since all your stalling gave me blue balls.”

“That’s not a real thing,” you scoff, but you soon lower yourself down with your face a few inches from his tip.

“I thought I’m the one teaching you. Your only job right now is to listen.”

“Did you shave?” You giggle, not listening at all as your other hand gently cups his balls. You feel his freshly-shaven stubble.

He hisses at your touch, and nearly bucks into your face, but he steels himself with his waning self-control. “Shut up. I thought it’ll make you more comfortable.”

“Is that why you were nearly late to practice today? I thought you just needed an extra long shower after what we did this morning.” You give him shallow strokes down his length, light enough to ease the blood pressure that built up inside.

“Just…if you want to tease a guy…try licking around at the base first,” He changes the subject, entering his teaching mode.

“Hm…” You nod in understanding, ducking your head down lower just for him and slowing the shallow pumps of your hand.

Tentatively, you lick the bottom of his base, tasting the salty tartness of his sweat. You close your eyes to gather a sense of courage, and soon, you let go of your shame and carefully begin to give him long, broad strokes highlighted by the roughness of your tongue.

You hear a strangled noise from above but you paid him no mind, getting lost in his flavor. The masculine musk clouds your judgment and you bump your nose against his pubic bone. With one hand still cupping him, you brought your lips down towards his balls, planting an open-mouthed kiss on them before carefully putting them in your mouth to suck.

You felt him jolt beneath you, your name ringing out to the room. “Oh, fuck—“

His fingers brush against your cheekbone when he rushes to grip his legs. His nails dig into his skin while you remain oblivious to his waning self-control. Because who taught you that? Not him.

His mouth is locked open. His chest rises and falls as he tries to maintain a semblance of sanity. Ken is so pent up right now, he’s worried he won’t be able to hold himself back from releasing prematurely.

But here you are— dick resting on half of your face, as if measuring your head against it, with your mouth on his balls and your sultry eyes lazily blinking open.

You whine when he hastily pushes your face off of him, and his dick twitches from the sound.

“Don’t look at me like that,” his voice is hoarse.

“Was it bad?” You ask, confused as to why he suddenly made you stop.

“I-It’s okay. It was good.” He’s going to blow any minute now. “I…I need you to take it slow.”

“Okay,” you nod, leaning back down.

“You can, uh, kiss up the shaft from the base,” he struggles to remember how to talk. “Then when you get to the tip—“

You push your head close to his crotch before he can say anything more, and he nearly keens when your longue laps at his protruding vein, following it up to his tip. Your head is spinning, eager to please and to draw out even more sounds from his throat.

You let a puff of hot air hit his angry head. You look up for assurance.

His cheeks are dusted with a light pink, eyes unfocused, but he still manages a weak nod. “Yeah…yeah, just spit on it.”

You gather your saliva in your mouth, and let it dribble on his cock. He curses, louder, and you’re glad that the Satos are rich enough to afford thick walls.

Because when your lips finally envelope his head he loses his filter.

“Shiiit….Baby that’s it, just take it—ah— take it slow… Remember to breathe through your nose, yeah? Yeah— oh fuck babe…”

You struggle to pay attention to his words, but you slacken your jaw to accommodate his size and try to breathe as he said. You are getting dizzy from how full your mouth is. You rub your own thighs together, your brain swimming with the thought of this inside you, and you clench over nothing.

Mindful of your teeth, you try to move a bit further down, greedy to see how much more you can accommodate. He notices, and immediately his hands reach for the sides of your head to stop you. “D-don’t push it…” he slurs. “You’ll choke.”

Your eyelashes flutter, and you feel tears forming at the corners of your eyes. You don’t mind that at all.

Still, you’re realistic with yourself. You can’t make it to half of his length without gagging, and you feel him twitch in your mouth when you do. He likes it when you’re noisy.

You grab his hips to hold him down, aware of how he’s struggling not to buck up into your mouth and fuck your face. His fingers massage your scalp as a thank you for the added leverage.

“Does your jaw hurt, princess?” He reaches for the hinges of your jaw. His thumbs press down and lightly massaging your face. “Fuck— I can tell by that dumb, pretty look on your face that your brain s’all empty.”

You hollow out your cheeks, and your tears fall as you bob your head up and down dutifully. He wipes your tears as they slide down your cheek, cooing about how cute you look.

“You’re so good to me.” He brushes your hair out of your eyes. “You like sucking dick this much, huh, girl? — Oh god, that’s it. Drool some more for me sweetie… You’re a natural. Wouldn’t have guessed from how much you hate shutting up.”

You let your bottom teeth poke out slightly, and he pulls your hair as a warning. “Hey, ah-ah, behave.”

Your tongue is placed flat against the bottom of his cock, warm against his pulse. He lets out a relieved sigh, patting your cheek condescendingly. He can’t help but want to be a little mean to you. “See, baby? Don’t even need me to tell ya what to do. You lying about being shy? Only wanted to hear me say how much I like you?”

It’s so embarrassing how much you needed him to say more.

His grunts grow staggered, and his breathing picks up. He tugs harder on your hair as he gets closer to his release. The burn on your scalp feels so good when you’re deprived of oxygen.

“I-I’m…gonna…” He tries to properly warn you. “Don’t swallow. You’re not ready.”

He tries to pull your head off of him but you’re stubborn, sucking down even harder. You hate it when he tells you not to do something.

He curses out your name. “Fuck, I’m being serious, don’t—”

You flinch at the hot release that hits the back of your throat, and you sputter around his cock as the amount quickly overwhelms you. It leaks out the corners, dripping down his length and onto the sheets.

He wishes he can take a picture of your fucked out, tear-stained face. You look up, his cum still on your lips when you take your mouth off him. “That good?”

God, you’ll be the death of him.

A/N: hi i hope this wasnt awkward it's my first time publishing anything explicit fsdihodfs.

this was about to be a 15k word chapter with three acts: bedroom, gas station, first time— they all take place one after the other. the chapter wouldve been called "friends who run a marathon" bc it was just marathon sex lmao i wanted to convey that the two kind of fall into this hedonistic routine That is Actually Kind of Bad for them! still...15k words of you two fooling around like who wants to read that in one go (i did. i rlly did. i rlly didnt wanna split this chapter but it narratively makes sense fsdiohdfs)

i was starting to feel bad about how long it will take me to update if i stuck w the original plan so I decided to split the chapter into two and reserve the gas station and first time for chapter 9! next chapter we will go back to the main timeline. i dont want to write them too much in their teen years bc they are a lot crazier when theyre young adults, which is why i wanted to cram it all in one long chapter.

[fourmoony]

Hiii I hope your doing well !!! I was wondering If you could do james and reader (established relationship) where they are out together somewhere with new people and (like me) reader has a lovely thing called anxiety, I feel like he'd notice right away despite being the opposite. (I'm a sucker for james entirely i need some sweet encouragement from him) I don't know what it is but I tend to feel totally invisible and lonely in Public places, despite being with friends or ppl that i do know. For some reason ppl tend to acknowledge everyone else n leave me out, which I've struggled with for a very long time unfortunately !!

So if you can somehow incorporate that, for me and anyone else who's ever felt that way, that would be great :)) I'll leave it up to youu ♡♡ p.s. I'm obsessed with ur writing

thanks for requesting, angel! <3 1.6k f!reader modern!au

as someone with an overwhelming friend group, learning the difference between not being included and having friends who will just talk into the abyss and if you can keep up, cool, was key lmao

James' hand hasn't left your thigh since you sat down at the table, a sweet encouragement that you relish in. It's a grounding touch, encouraging squeezes here and there when you manage to involve yourself in the conversation. Even when your food had been served, James' touch didn't falter as he stabbed rather uncoordinatedly at his pasta with his left hand.

His thumb moves in small circles against the inside, a distracting touch only in that his hand is dangerously close to disappearing under your skirt. You worry someone will see, get the wrong idea, and that will just send you spiralling for weeks, the awkwardness heavy in your chest. You're an over-thinker, you analyse everything, every movement, every tick of someones jaw, the light of their eyes, the tone of their voice. It's a blessing and a curse, really, your ability to instantly sense change within someone.

You can't help but notice the way that the conversation has carried on without you. Sirius and Remus are bickering, a fire in their eyes that you know very well means they're enjoying it despite their exasperated stances. Further down the table, Lily, Mary, Dorcas, and Marlene are gossiping about someone they went to school with, yelling excited agreements about the person in question, the injustices they must have committed against the girls. Even Peter is louder than normal, caught in a heated debate with James about the upcoming Six-Nations game.

There's not a conversation happening that you feel equipped to join, nor one you've been outright included in. James has assured you multiple times, too many times, in your opinion, that his friends are just loud. You know this - knew this when you agreed to dinner. You love them all. They've always been kind, never cruel. But in the lulling moments, where you realise just how much of an outsider you are in comparison to a group of people who've known each other for over ten years. They grew up together, learned valuable lessons together, have memories that were key, intrinsic moments in their lives. They have a history that you're not a part of.

Sometimes, that feels impossible to compete with. Even when James reminds you that his friends aren't not talking to you, they're just... talking. They're the kind of people to talk to fill a silence, and if you're listening, great. James often calls it 'talking into the abyss'. None of his friends ever actually require a response when talking, they're the kind of people to just keep going until interrupted. Sometimes, even when interrupted.

The table is a loud cacophony of everyone interrupting each other and it has your palms slick and pulse beating in your neck.

The waiter has long since abandoned trying to get you all to close out, even as the dessert plates have been cleared and all that's left are the half-empty, warmed glasses of various alcohols that remain on the table. James must feel you shift in your seat, because he squeezes your thigh in acknowledgement, his eyes flicking away from Peter for half a second. When they land on you, his head turns, conversation long forgotten. Peter doesn't seem fussed, just turns to try and split up whatever row Sirius and Remus are pretending to have.

"All good?" James asks, eyes soft.

His brows are hooked in the middle where they're furrowed, body shifting to face you easier. You nod, lips rubbing against each other. You're scared to talk, scared to be betrayed by your own voice. You've held your own most of the night, you don't want James to forcibly enter you into a conversation. It's not fair on him to have to deal with you, like this.

You should know better, though. James only frowns. It doesn't suit him. Your boyfriend is bright like the summer sun, always smiling, always cheerful. He's the colour between yellow and bright, pure light. Frowning doesn't suit him. It hurts your heart.

His head dips, close to your ear, voice soft as he asks, "You wanna head home?"

"No," You shake your head, frown matching his, "No, Jamie. I'm okay."

His lips press to your cheek, soft and warm, and then he smiles. The heavy feeling in your chest eases a little, just looking at him. James often thinks he has to be proactive to help you in difficult social situations. You've never had the guts to tell him all he has to do is smile real nice at you and just a smidge of that grey cloud budges.

James groans, loud and obnoxious and makes a show of stretching. You avoid looking pointedly at the way his top pulls up his waist at the movement, heat swirling in your cheeks from the mere idea of his skin being on show. Conversations halt for the impending goodbye, and you swear you see relief on Remus' face at not having to be the first to bear the bad news marking the end of the night. He gives you a warm smile that you return, another smidge of that anxiety lifting.

"You off?" Sirius asks over his pint glass.

James nods, "Shattered, yeah."

There's a mixture of goodbye's to both you and James as you sling your coats on. James makes half-hearted plans to see everyone at some point over the next week, gives both of your cuts for dinner to Sirius in cash, squeezes your hand in delight when Lily declares that she'll text you tomorrow to see about coffee. There's a look in her eyes that says she hopes this time you'll accept. She's asked multiple times, sometimes through James, sometimes texting you, herself. She never seems put out when you politely give her some excuse or other, never asks questions as to why the idea jars you so much. You're glad, because you wouldn't have an answer as to why.

The air is cool against your flushed skin when James holds the door and ushers you outside. The sky has turned a dark, midnight blue and you silently wonder how long you actually spent inside the little restaurant. The door swings closed and James is at your side, hand immediately in yours and spreading a calm warmth all over you.

"They really love you, you know?" James speaks thoughtfully.

You should've known your boyfriend would want you to talk about it. You've never had anyone who cares enough, before. But you're trying. Same as he is.

"I love them too. You just," You sigh, shoes scuffing along the pavement as you walk towards James' flat, "You know how I get after too much social interaction."

Your boyfriend hums in acknowledgement, thumb rubbing a soothing pattern across the back of your hand. "I know, lovie. I just wanted to remind you."

"I'm sorry we had to leave."

James halts walking, tugging you back until you're facing him. A passer by mutters something under their breath at the two of you standing in the middle of the street. James doesn't pay them any mind, but your pulse thunders for a fraction of a second at the risk of conflict. James squeezes your hand, "You don't have to apologise. I'm happy you came, and I was ready to leave, anyway."

"You didn't say anything until you noticed I wasn't talking to anyone, though." You counter.

James is silent for a moment, trying to garner the words. Then, "I love when you involve yourself in conversations with my friends. It makes me happy to see you all together. But I'll never force you to do more than you're willing to. We were in there for three hours, love. Any normal person would be exhausted of them, by then."

You huff a laugh, turning to pick up a walking pace again. James follows, allowing the silence to overcome you both as you think of a response. He's so patient, always so patient and sacrificial. You wonder if he'll ever tire of that. The thought scares you.

"Is it too much, for you?" You ask, then clarify, "To feel like you're always keeping an eye on me, saving me from social situations just because I can't function normally."

James' immediate answer is No.

Simple. Plain. It's all the answer you need, but he goes on, anyway.

"Everyone has their thing. Remus is a lot like you. Sirius brings him out of his shell, sure. It's why they're always bickering. But for years, Remus used to just... brood. Wouldn't talk, just observe. Maybe for different reasons, but it was the same thing. He's still here."

You smile. Remus has always been rather lovely to you, almost like he knew, somehow, that his friends can be overwhelming. That social settings can be overwhelming. "So it doesn't annoy you?"

You feel like a child asking for reassurance, but you know James will always give you it, no questions asked. And he means it, too.

"Never. You take part in as much as you want, I'll never be upset with you for saying you've had enough." He tells you, his flat appearing in the near distance.

"I think I'll go for coffee with Lils this week." You announce, feeling pleasantly calm with the admittance.

It doesn't send a spike of anxiety through you like it did when she first asked. Not when you know James won't be cross if you have to leave early, or call him from the bathroom for a get-out. If you become exhausted, if you don't want to be social anymore, it'll be okay. You're sure Lily will understand. You hope she will.

As much as an effort as James' friends have made with you, you feel it necessary to make some in return.

"She'll be over the moon, love." James says, pulling you closer to his side and pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

You smile at the affection, feeling the clouds lift as though James' personality singlehandedly batted them all away. The sun after a storm. You're grateful for it. For him.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

World's Greatest Dad

PAIRING | Husband!Dad!Chris Evans x Wife!Mom!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.1K

SUMMARY | With Chris being away for filming during long periods, parenting can be complicated by yourself. Luckily, your daily FaceTime calls help you through it all, though it is always most exciting when he finally comes home. This time, you and your twins have prepared a little package to welcome him home after another three months of being away from home, and Chris couldn't have wished for a better welcome home.

RATING | General (G)

WARNINGS/TAGS | RPF, established relationship

A/N | I want to thank @cevansbaby-dove for inspiring this absolute fluff bomb of a fic, as it was a very cute one to write! 🥰 It's been a while since I have written anything for this adorable goofball, and I can't wait to get back into the groove of writing more for him again! This is proofread by @ccbsrmsf1, for which I'm very grateful 💜

EVENTS Masterlist | @fluffbruary Fluffbruary '24 | Care package Masterlist | @ultimatechrisbingo | Free space

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Source

Main Masterlist | Chris Evans Masterlist

''We miss you, Daddy!" your twins River and Sage say in unison to your laptop screen while talking to Chris as you do the dishes after dinner. He's away to film Avengers: Endgame, and you can't help but outright stare at your husband occasionally. His longer, blonde hair and thick beard suit him, and you can't wait to run your fingers through them.

"I miss you too, Bubba's, but Daddy will be home tomorrow," he tells your daughters, and they let out an excited shriek, not wanting to wait any longer to see him again. And you wouldn't mind being able to cuddle up with your husband, either. After a few more minutes of the three of them catching up, you hear Chris asking for you, and the girls are on their way to their room to play.

"How's my favorite girl doing?" his head leaning on his hand as he looks at you with pure love and adoration, a small smile tugging on the corners of his lips as he listens to what you say. You're lucky to have Chris as your husband and will thank your lucky stars daily.

"I'm doing good; the girls behave like little angels now that you're away. They're very responsible, and they help well around the house," you tell him as you listen to them playing their game in their room. They're now ten years old and growing up way too fast for your liking, but you also wouldn't miss it for the world.

"How excited are they that I'm coming home tomorrow?" Chris asks, and you tell him all about most of the plans you have made with them. The two of them can sleep in your bed tonight, and tomorrow, they'll help prepare dinner as a welcome home gesture. However, you did not tell him you've been busy building a care package for him.

"I miss you, but I'm happy to have my Hubby home again tomorrow; it's getting lonely without you at night. And there's only so much cuddles I can have with Dodger before I miss his Daddy." He lifts his head at the mention of his name, making you giggle.

"I miss you too, Babygirl, but it'll be worth it. After this, I'll be home for a few months," he tells you, and you're already looking forward to it. After another 15 minutes of calling, it's time to go and finish your little care package before taking your daughters and Dodger for a walk and winding down for the night.

You're up bright and early the following day, preparing breakfast for your girls, yourself, and Dodger. This afternoon is when Chris will finally return home after three long months, and you have rarely been this excited to welcome him home.

Seeing that it's a beautiful day outside, you decided to wear a bright pink sundress after laying out matching ones for your daughters. Chris has told you countless times how much he adores it when all his beautiful girls match, and you're looking forward to his reaction. Soon, the girls will be dressed and ready for breakfast, too, and now, all you three can do is wait.

When Chris is only five minutes away, he texts you so that you can expect him at any moment now. Over the years, you have made the tradition with your twins and Dodger to wait on the porch swing to welcome him home, and that's precisely what you do. River is on your left, Sage is on your right, and Dodger is lying patiently by your feet.

Luckily for you, there's no need to wait long because the car that drove Chris home turns the corner in less than a few minutes, and your twins jump from the porch swing while waving and jumping up and down.

"Daddy's home, Mommy! Daddy's home!" they say in unison, and as soon as Chris gets out of the car, he runs towards all of you while kneeling to capture his little girls in the biggest hug they have ever had.

"I'm so happy to be home again with my favorite girls! I missed you so much," he tells them as he gives both of them a big kiss before giving some love to Dodger, all while the driver patiently takes Chris' luggage out of the car's trunk. Dodger wags his tail happily as he accepts all the love from Chris, and then it's finally your turn.

"C'mere Gorgeous," your husband tells you as you wrap your arms around one another, pulling the other person as close as possible. You take your time inhaling his signature scent and let the happiness take over, peppering his face in kisses and saying countless 'I love you's.

After one last big kiss on his lips, it's time to go inside, and that's when Chris notices all three of you are matching today. You have gone all out for him, from the dress and shoes to the hair, and he can't get enough of it. He doesn't get too much time to think about that, though, because as soon as he's inside, he's greeted by the large care package you have made with the twins.

"Welcome home!" River and Sage say in unison as Chris walks into your house, the sunlight brightening the room beautifully.

"Thank you so much, my little monkeys; I'm so happy to be home for the next few months," he tells them as he walks over to what's on the kitchen table.

On the table is a large basket with some of his favorite as well as new books, some items to use in the bathroom like bath bombs and scented shower gels, some items for you and Chris to use in the bedroom such as a new massage oil, and something hidden in a sleek black box, and lastly, a big mug with the text ''World's Greatest Dad" made and decorated by both girls and it's filled with some of his favorite snacks too.

Before he thanks you, he first turns his attention to the girls.

"I may be the world's greatest dad, but I want you two to know you are the world's greatest princesses. Daddy's very lucky to have you two as his beautiful daughters," he says before hugging and kissing them again and sending them off to their room to play.

"Now, I believe it's time to say thank you to my beautiful wife," he says in a deep voice, and you can already feel the goosebumps forming on your neck. You pull him in for a kiss, which he happily reciprocates, pouring into it all the love that you two had to miss out on in the last few months.

"I love you, Babygirl, and thank you for being the best woman and most amazing wife I could ever wish for." With those words, it's time to officially unwrap his care package and settle for the next few months.

Surely, it may suck when he's gone, but the reunion when he's back is always more than worth it. Every. Single. Time.

[soobnny]

voicemails kim sunoo leaves when he’s on tour — fluff, established relationship, little bit of angst

heeseung | jay | jake | sunghoon | SUNOO | jungwon | ni-ki

one. i’m sharing a room with sunghoon please wish me luck. we had to do this drawing game to decide, and you know i’m shit at that! oh my god, please send me your well wishes. pray i can still make it back to you by the end of this tour.

two. we’re going sightseeing today. i’ll send you some pictures. i love you. take care today, angel.

three. don’t give up okay? you have a purpose much greater than this world. fighting! i love you!

four. hi, angel. news might come out soon that i’m not feeling very well. don’t worry about it! i’m fine! i just felt the need to reassure you. i know i’d want to be reassured if i heard you weren’t feeling well.

five. i’m doing my skincare routine right now and i just felt the need to send you a message so i’m just gonna talk about what i’m doing. i got this new moisturizer, ah, i got one for you too. and a few face masks. i can’t wait to try them on with you and scold you for doing it wrong. you always do it wrong. (silence) it feels a little lonely doing this alone. i miss you.

six. the boys were talking about the perilla leaves debate, and it got me thinking. if you were ever in that situation, where someone asked you to help them separate their perilla leaves, just—don’t do it in front of me, okay?.. actually, wait, nevermind. just don’t do it. you’re my partner. tell them to get their own.

seven. i’m in paris today, angel. je t'aime!

eight. okay, okay, i learned something new today. don’t worry, i’m not gonna start imitating animals. i’m not sunghoon! okay, here i go. ikaw ang ilaw ng aking buhay. you translate it for yourself, i’m not telling you.

nine. it’s so cold here. i miss my personal heater. i mean, i miss you! of course you’re more than a personal heater.

ten. people call me the sun but i don’t think i can shine this bright if it wasn’t for you.

[actual-changeling]

sometimes he just wants to ask, are we going somewhere with this?

their life is one endless game of chess, a dance to a waltz that will never stop playing, and no matter what they do, it is always infinite. unless the universe goes up in flames or collapses under the pressure of its own weight, they will never run out of wine to drink or conversations to have.

crowley loved it, at first, the reliability of knowing that even if a century or more passed, they'd be able to fall right back into wherever they'd left off—the comforting stability of a house built to last.

crowley loved him first, too, at least he thinks he was the first with both eyes open and wanting, with his hands aching, searching for aziraphale's to hold. he was almost comfortably drowning in his longing, as long as he got to orbit around him undisturbed, allowed to watch his lips wrap around forkfuls of cake and tempt him to one more drink, angel, c'mon.

patience, he told himself over and over again, have patience, and maybe that would have been enough if aziraphale had been moving on his own at all. one tentative step forward, ten hurried ones back, and three lonely decades to follow, denial carved into every rejected invitation, every shouldn't and couldn't and oh, i can't possibly—and crowley got the hint, of course he did.

he was fine with it for a while. longer than he should have been, in retrospect.

in 1941, the word 'finally' lingered behind tightly closed lips, irritated, excited, and when he was forced to swallow it down without letting any of it bleed through, what had been bearable before became a maelstrom of misery and apathy.

you go too fast for me, crowley, and fuck it all. if he had been less in love with him, he'd have asked him back in 1967 with the thermos in his hands, relief so, so close one way or another. fingers around his wrist to hold him back, his mouth opening and spitting every late-night thought and day-time promise into his face. instead, he did what he always does.

he watched him leave.

you're not moving at all, he whispered to the bentley in the remaining silence that thickened cold and damp like fog, and he knew even then that there would come a day when aziraphale would turn around and start walking away from him.

were we going somewhere with this, angel? 

maybe they were. they both know they were; in open admittance or denial, it didn't matter, it never had, but he finally had an answer to his question.

we could have been, they almost did—and then they stopped.

[water-loos]

All American Bitch !

“I’ve got sun in my motherfucking pocket, best believe”

player!steve harrington x fem!reader

series masterlist ; next chapter

cw: college au, alcohol consumption, tipsy sexual acts, smut implied (fade to black), angst, swearing, steve’s a dick

wc: 3.5k

a/n: this is a very shitty first installment but i promise it’ll make sense eventually

You didn’t plan on going to any Halloween parties. You never did. You thought the holiday was stupid, and just an excuse to drop way too much money on multiple costumes that only covered about a third of your body.

But that little lacy white slip dress that you found in the racks of a thrift store last weekend fit you too perfectly.

And the angel wings that you used for a photo shoot in May had been sitting lonely in your closet for far too long.

And you did consider Romeo + Juliet to be your favorite movie of all time.

That’s how you found yourself climbing the steps of a brownstone just north of Chicago, your hair tied back into a pretty half-up-half-down hairdo. Your makeup was flawless, even with your pink cheeks due to the biting wind and the plethora of shots that your friends had fed you before the train ride up from the city. The party itself was pretty packed just inside the door, with a box TV playing Scream as people mingled right in front of the screen. You pushed your way through the mass of people into the dining room, where a pair of plastic tables with holes sawed in them for cups were manned by tens of people in various costumes.

You craned your neck to look for a way to the kitchen, which was down a long hallway that was probably the only open portion of the house. Your friend Alexandra trailed behind you, eyeing the pong table as you attempted to drag her with you.

“Do you just want me to get you a drink?” You sighed as she nearly got caught in the crowd once more. “You don’t have to come with if you don’t want to.”

“Can I stay? That guy in the Risky Business costume seems a little lonely at the table if you know what I mean,” She winked, squeezing your hand. You rolled your eyes and squeezed back, letting her go. She kissed your cheek joyfully before bouncing over to him, her fairy wings sparkling almost as much as the tinsel in her hair.

As soon as she bounded away, you turned on your heel to the hallway, pushing past a few couples that were making out against the wall to get into the tiny kitchen. The keg took up a decent amount of space in the corner, a stack of red solo cups perched on the windowsill next to it. The thought of putting beer anywhere near your body was enough to make you gag, so you pivoted to the corner, where a punch bowl, a bottle of Captain Morgan, and some more solo cups lay, glittery green liquid splashed everywhere.

Beer, or mystery punch.

Great.

You opted for a heavy pour of the white rum and two ladles of the green punch before you pushed your way back into the hallway, but took a sharp right toward the staircase and the basement, where the dance floor must have been.

That’s where you saw him.

Steve Harrington, hair perfectly coiffed and cheetah print vest hanging open over his too-tight white tee. You knew who he was— he was notorious across most of the Chicago colleges and universities, known for his looks and his kilowatt smile. You shared a few classes and tended to think he was an egotistical douchebag who didn’t know what he was talking about half the time.

But god did his arms look good enough to bite in that shirt.

One big gulp of the drink in your hand was enough to push you toward him, chin held high in the air as you sauntered in his direction, catching him just as the girl he was talking to walked off in search of another drink.

“Ferris Bueller,” You said, voice dipped in faux sugar. “How fitting, Harrington.”

“Juliet,” He immediately smiled down at you, his shoulder falling to rest on the wall beside the two of you. “To what do I owe the absolute pleasure of seeing you? I thought you weren’t really into Halloween.”

“I’m not normally,” You nodded, maintaining eye contact over your cup as you turned to let your back rest on the wall. “But this costume was just too cute to leave hanging in my closet, don’t you think?”

You watched with a smug smile as his eyes raked down your body, slowly taking you in. You could see his gaze catch on the body glitter you had applied along your chest and shoulders, a warm blush spreading across your cheeks as he hummed his approval. “Definitely. It’s a shame, though.”

You watched as he flicked your left wing, caging you against the wall. Unfazed, you looked up at him with doe eyes, lashes fluttering. “What’s a shame, Stevie?”

You watched his front crumble, a rosy blush spreading over his freckled cheeks. He was put under your spell way too easily, and you could almost feel his ego bruising as he gathered himself from the momentary pause. “It’s a shame that it’d look about ten times better on my bedroom floor.”

You were moving a little fast, but your impulse control was left back in your apartment, miles away. It’s almost like your body was moving quicker than your brain was. Your hand smoothed up the front of his vest, adjusting it against his tee. “D’you think about my clothes on your floor often, Stevie? I’m flattered.”

“More than you know, sweetheart,” He huffed, standing up straight and taking your free hand in his. “Let’s find somewhere more private, yeah?”

“You’re so cute when you’re eager,” You pouted, pounding back the rest of your drink, gracefully putting the cup down on the ground beside you. “You’ve gotta dance with me first, Harrington.”

You kept your fingers intertwined as you pulled him down the stairs and toward the dance floor, which was packed wall to wall with dancing people, with colorful strobe lights flashing across the room. You watched the boy chug the last of his beer and toss the crushed cup behind him, his body not far behind yours as you made your way to the center of the floor. The electric beat of a techno song that you couldn’t name bleated around you as you began to sway back and forth, eyes on the boy who had followed you. He looked downright delectable in this lighting— his skin almost glistened under the lights, his hair slightly tousled, and his chest heaving as he watched you.

You two didn’t last long on the dance floor.

Only two or three songs passed before you were tugged down the back hallway of the basement and pressed against the door of the hidden bathroom in the corner. Steve wasted almost no time in connecting your lips, the lingering taste of beer bitter on his tongue as it danced with your own. Your hands wandered across his shoulders and up to the curled ends at the back of his hair, tugging gently as he moaned softly into this kiss. His hands held one of your legs up around his hip while the other pushed at your lower back, leaving very little space between the two of you. Your head lolled against the wood behind you as his kisses trailed down your exposed neck, nipping soon-to-be lavender bruises down across the glittery skin.

“You know,” He huffed into your neck, gripping the soft skin of your hip. “Been waiting for you since you destroyed me in our debate project.”

“Oh I know, baby,” You breathed out a laugh as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot behind your ear. “D’you get off to that? Being shown up in front of everyone?”

He bit down harder then, enticing a squeal out of you. “Only when it’s you.”

You try not to scoff as he pulls back, watching your face. It’s evident that you don’t believe him, but he doesn’t say anything about it. “Oh really?”

“Really.”

You hum, tilting your head back up for another kiss as your hand trailed across the sliver of skin that peeked out between his white tee and his dark blue jeans. “You promise?”

His throat bobbed and his cheeks grew pink as he watched your hand dip lower and lower, fingertips ghosting over the obvious bulge in his pants. “Promise. On my life, sweetheart.”

You’d never seen Steve Harrington a nervous mess before, but you decided right then and there that it was your favorite version of him. It was easy to nudge him a little further into the room so his hips hit the counter of the vanity, and even easier to drop to your knees in front of him. He sighed at the sight of you, with big doe eyes and angel wings, staring up at him with your best innocent look.

“This okay?” You whispered, hands placed on the front of his thighs, waiting for his verbal confirmation. You watched as his chest heaved, and he nodded, but you shook your head. “Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear,” A hand, big against your face, came to cradle your cheek, his eyes dilated as he stared down at you. “Are you sure? You don’t have to…”

“I wouldn’t be on my knees if I didn’t want to, Stevie,” You snorted, one hand reaching up to pop the button of his jeans and slowly pull down the zipper. “Pinky swear.”

———————

You started seeing Steve around a lot more after that weekend. By mid-January, he suddenly had more friends in your apartment complex, he sat right beside you in all three of the classes you shared this semester, and he had taken it upon himself to walk you back to your apartment or the student center after every single one. Alexandra started to call him your shadow, and she had even started keeping a six-pack of Miller High Life’s in the fridge for him, just so he’d have something to drink and every pregame party your friends threw.

He spent most nights in your bedroom, actually.

He snuck in as soon as you heard Alex close her bedroom door and put on her LED lights, and he knew the code to get into your building by heart. He knew that your door squeaked, and he mastered exactly how to open it to make the least amount of noise. Most of the time he found you in bed, glasses and an oversized hoodie on, scrolling on your phone as you waited for him. Some nights, he’d crawl in beside you and ask you about your day, maybe he’d joke with you about how stupid your teacher was, or how he thought you did great on a presentation, and others he’d waste almost no time in pulling your phone from your hand and pinning you to your mattress.

Tonight had been the latter.

Most of the time it made you feel like shit when there was barely any greeting, even if he tried to make it up to you by taking you for a drive in his car. “Taking you for a drive” consisted of buying you a milkshake, asking you all of your deepest secrets, and then eating you out in the backseat of that goddamn maroon BMW. But, after months of the same thing, you felt like a milkshake was better than nothing.

You laid across the backseat, warm and almost cuddling into the hoodie you had stolen from him last week, and nothing covering your legs besides the panties he had so gently put back on your body. God forbid you made a mess of his leather seats. He was sitting on the end, hands tracing your face as you tried to steady your breathing and recover.

“Y’know, we should go to the library to study for that quiz this week,” He said, voice gravelly. “I’m a little worried with how little she’s preparing us.”

“Ooh, a location change,” You hummed, sarcasm whispering in your tone. “I‘ll go. When do you want to?”

His hand stilled. “What do you mean?”

Your chest tightened. “It’s a joke, Stevie. We just haven’t been to the library together before.”

He let his head lean back on his headrest, his face stilling. “You know that I don’t mean anything bad by that, right?”

“What, that we don’t really go anywhere together?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Oh, I don’t care,” You shrugged, lying through your teeth. “I like what we do together now. It’s like a nightly routine. Helps me sleep better.”

He chuckled and started to trace around your hairline again. “Really?”

“Yeah. Having my own personal radiator in my freezing apartment is heaven.”

He snorted, softly whacking your shoulder. “I’m not that hot.”

“Half of the student body would disagree with you.”

“Oh, come on. That’s not true.”

“Steve. Lying is not going to get you anywhere,” You sat up, scooting closer to face him. “I think you might want to look in a mirror. Besides, everyone knowing you’re hot doesn’t really bother me.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Why would it?”

You stop, taken aback. “I mean, I’m the one whose bed you’re in almost every night. Everyone else who drools over you doesn’t get that honor.”

Steve goes rigid, and you can tell something’s bothering him. You can tell by the way he refuses to make eye contact with you that whatever he’s thinking is not going to be very nice to you.

It’s silent for a moment.

“Just say it.”

“What?”

You reach onto the floor in front of you and slide on the sweatpants you had been wearing. You set your jaw and dare to look in his direction. “Say the thing you’re thinking about. Even if it’s going to make me upset. I’d rather you be upfront than sit here in silence, Steve.”

“We’re not together.”

“I know.”

“Then don’t talk about us like we are.”

Your chest squeezes.

“I don’t.”

“You literally just did.”

“Saying you’re in my bed every night doesn’t mean shit, Steve,” You scoff, grabbing the Converse you had haphazardly shoved on your feet on the way out and pulling them on. “I was just stating the truth. You’re the one who texts me for our nightly booty call, remember?”

“And you always answer. C’mon, sweetheart,” He almost whines, reaching over to turn you back toward him. “You’re not a booty call. You never have been.”

“Then what am I, Steve? Your friend?” You bite back, pulling your arm from his gentle grasp.

“No. You’re not just a friend, you know that,” He says, watching mournfully as you open the back door and step out of the car. Your cheeks are still warm from the orgasm he’d pulled from you almost twenty minutes ago.

“Yeah, I’m your fuck buddy who’s at your every beck and call. I know what I am, Steve,” You scoff and close the door behind you as he quickly pops out of the opposite side. Your hand pulls on the passenger side, opening it, but still addressing him over the car. “I’m not fucking stupid, in case you’ve already forgotten.”

“When you say it like that it sounds bad.”

“Steve, you literally have done nothing tonight but walk into my room, fuck me, buy me a consolation milkshake, and then fuck me again in your car. You don’t even know anything about me,” You snap, hand white-knuckle gripping the door. “What’s my favorite color? What’s my favorite food? The cat that curls at your feet every night, what’s her name?”

He didn’t answer. Just looked down at his feet.

“That’s what I fucking thought,” You say lowly and duck into the car, almost slamming the door behind you. He follows after a few moments, getting into the car slowly and quietly. “Take me home. Please.”

“Babe—“

“Don’t.”

He doesn’t argue as he starts the car and pulls out of the heavily wooded parking lot that you always went to. The drive was only fifteen minutes, but it was spent in excruciating silence as you quietly picked at the clear compartment of your wallet, attempting to remove your ID in order to get the Polaroid that lived behind it out. It was a sweet picture of you and Steve at your birthday party back in November, where you had been wearing matching sunglasses and had been looking at each other and laughing. It was your favorite picture ever taken, and he had said it was his too.

Once you pulled up to your apartment, you were quick to open the door and stand outside of the doorway. You dropped the Polaroid onto the seat and reached to grab the edge of his hoodie.

You were done.

You pulled off the yellow hoodie, his cologne dripping from the threads as you dropped it on the seat. You were freezing in the flimsy tank you had been wearing underneath, but you tried not to let it bother you as you slammed the door and finally walked away.

You didn’t hear him call after you, even as you slowly punched in the code. He had driven off before you stepped through the threshold.

You were crying by the time you made it into your actual apartment, the door still unlocked from earlier. You locked the door for the first time in months and practically stomped into your room, the door squeaking loudly behind you as you shut it. It was easy to flop into bed, and even easier to sob harder when you smelled him all over your comforter.

You wallowed for all of five minutes before Alex came in, teary-eyed from sleep, but with a knowing look on her face.

“Did you finally end it?”

You sniffled.

“Aw, babe,” She tutted and laid beside you in bed, reaching over to rub your shoulder. “It’ll be okay. He’s just a man.”

“I just don’t get how all of this time means nothing to him. Nothing! He’s here almost every night and he can’t even tell me what I am to him.”

“It’s just what he does. He’s known for being a whore, and that’s exactly what he is— a whore.”

“A whore who’s been leading me on for almost three months,” You replied pathetically, putting your hands over your face as you cried harder. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re literally the smartest, kindest, and most fun person I know. The fact that he can’t see that has nothing to do with you— it has to do with the fact that he’s just not a good person,” Alex defended, climbing off the bed to pull you to your feet. “You’re a great person, and everyone you’ve ever met loves you. You’re gorgeous, fun, and hilarious. He’s going to come crawling back on his hands and fucking knees, babe.”

You sadly smile at her, and wipe the tears from your face. “Thank you, Alex. I don’t think you’re right about the last part, but I’ll try to believe you about the rest.”

“We’ll make him regret he ever treated you like this. I promise.”

You and she linked pinkies, kissing the other end of your hands as you did so.

“I’ll make sure he regrets it. He deserves to feel just as shitty as I do right now.”

“Damn straight!”