#it's been so damn long i'm so sorry jesus

[dawnthefluffyduck]

New game interest unlocked

(crow in bottom right belongs to @patchwork-crow-writes)

[racew1nn3rs]

─ 𝘚𝘌𝘊𝘙𝘌𝘛𝘚, 𝘚𝘌𝘊𝘙𝘌𝘛𝘚 🫀

max verstappen x singer!fem reader // smau

⤷ summary: when max verstappen starts commenting on the posts of the beloved singer y/n l/n, fans are confused and less than enthusiastic at the new friendship. what they could never expect is just how long they've been 'friends'...

based on this request <3

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liked by sabrinacarpenter, maxverstappen1, and 46,908 others

tagged sabrinacarpenter

ynusername my new album is now officially out on all platforms! thank you so so much for all of the love and support, and special thanks to sab for her feature on the song <33 love u bb girl 🫦🫦 now that the album's out, tour next!!! see you all soon!

23,560 comments

user1 THE ALBUM OUT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL PEOPLE THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

user2 i cannot be normal about this i fear

user3 ik her back hurts from CARRYING the music industry on her back 😩

user4 hey so WHO TF IS SO AMERICAN ABOUT?? A LOVE SONG

user5 y/n writing a love song in god's year of 2024... wow

user6 y/n in the top 10 charts, fork found in kitchen

user7 sabrina and y/n are never beating the gf allegations

ynusername damn right we're not 😏

user7 HOLY SHIR HOKY SHIT HOKST SHUT

user8 y/n's in love and it's not with me, hanging myself as we speak

user9 the comment is gonna get reported but so real op

user8 can't a woman hang herself in peace 😣

user10 album's such a banger i had this shit bumpin at my grandmas funeral 🙏🏼 rest in piece nancy 🕊️💪🏻

user11 OH MY GOD???

user12 rest in piece nancy you would've loved make you mine 😔

ynusername oh my god please tell me your joking

user10 sorry queen the grind never stops

ynusername NO SHOT

maxverstappen1 great album! 👍🏼

user13 why does he text like my father 🧍🏻‍♀️

user14 brother eughh

user15 what da hell is a polar bear doin in arlington texas

ynusername thank you max!!!

user16 y/n l/n to redbull in 2025

user17 hellurrrrr who is this man in ur likes y/n

user18 f1 driver!!

user17 Y/N NO ATHELETES PLEAEJEWK 🫵

user18 tour content soon??? i'm sat

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user19 bro looks like he snuck onto earth, get his ass outta here

user20 grammy-award winner, vogue cover model, new york university graduate and Some Fucking Guy

user21 not y'all coming to her defense like the mighty morphin power rangers 💀💀 he's literally a world class athete and she writes pop music

user20 17.172.224.47

user21 IS THAT MY IP ADDRESS??

user20 melinda charleton

user22 IS THAT HIS MOTHER'S NAME!!?1?1!

user20 you want me to do you too???

user22 no we good 😃

user23 ruth bader ginsberg did not die for this

user24 now wtf does this have to do with babe ruth 🤨

user25 WHOOOOO 😧

user24 ... that wasn't right was it

user26 now let's be fr he does NAWT have a chance

user27 have u seen the marble-carved  goddesses these men pull, i fear he does 😔

user28 please no i feel ill

user29 TWO???? OH HELL NAW

user30 two might be pushing it, only one was confirmed

user31 jesus christ

user32 first taylor, now this

user33 yall, all he commented was great album 💀💀 yall are LEAPING to conclusions

user34 what can i say it's an art

user35 i do not see 👁️👄👁️

user36 no like 💀💀 im in your walls

user37 haha max verstappen!! right!!! (theres a sniper at ur location)

user38 omg ur so right 🤩 it is about him (i have a bomb strapped to my chest)

user39 i dont mean to sound stupid, idk who that man is, if i saw him on the streets i wouldnt know a thing 🥱

user40 this is so random too like what 😭

user41 the power of kindness won't work here, i have to throw him off a building

user42 i used to be a max verslsjjwwo lover 🤩 now im just a max verslsjjwwo hater 😔

user43 NURSE 🫵 SHE'S OUT AGAIN

user44 why would u put that into the universe 😧

user45 alright, lets get you to bed grandma

user46 mari stop being delusion and go touch grass 🧍🏻‍♀️

user47 ENOUGHHHH

user48 ain't no way in hell 😭

user49 ik ur feet hurt from all this jumping to conclusions babe

user50 lets leave the parkour to the athletes 😃

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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 54,789 others

ynusername italy thanks for letting me be inside you (; it was such a lovely show, expect me back asap!!!!

15,267 comments

user51 IT WAS SO GOOD I THNK I BLACKED OUT THE WHOLE TIME THO

user52 oh!

user51 oh so now this isn't a safe space

user53 LANDO AND MAX IN TGE LIKES??? NO NO NO NO

user54 ABORT ABORT ABORT

user55 y'all are doing too much 🙄 she's one of the top artists in the world, i think it's safe to say they might like her music

user56 the second picture 🧎🏻‍♀️do you need a stool cause i can kneel and be really quiet

user57 y/n fans be normal challenge (impossible!!!) (never done before)

user56 WOMP WOMP

maxverstappen1 wonderful show! 🙏🏼 you are so talented

ynusername ty max (: im glad you could come see me

user57 ain't NO WAYYYYYY

user59 THIS IS SIXKENJNG IM GONNA PUKE

sabrinacarpenter my gf looking sexy 🫦🫦🫦

ynusername only for u bbg 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

user60 BOOOO 🗣️ GET A ROOM

user61 do y'all need a third!!!!

user62 mamma mia pizza pasta mozzerella moment

user63 i just put u on a watchlist

user62 🧍🏻‍♀️

landonorris RAHHHHHH 🦅🫵🗣️‼️

ynusername RAHHH RAHHH RAHHH RISE POWER POWER 💪🏻‼️

user63 what the fuck

user64 OH GOD WHAT IF SHES DATING HIM????

ynusername brother eughhhh

landonorris WHAT THE FUCK????

user65 SINCE WHEN IS SHE FRIENDS WITH F1 DRIVERS HOW MANY CHAPTWRS DID I MISS

user66 apparently we all went into a universal coma while she was out galavanting cause idk how else this could've happened

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maxverstappen1 posted to his story!

(caption: beautiful show)

22,456 replies

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user67 someone save my girl bro, she don't know any better 😭

user68 it's like a little kid trying to touch the hot stove, LIKE STOP THAT!! DON'T DO THAT

user69 am i the only one who thinks they'd be cute together....

user70 YES!?!?

user71 there is literally no fucking way he bagged her

user72 losing y/n to european f1 driver would be the biggest american tragedy since 2001

user73 i had to read this shit twice, op what r u waffling abt 🫵😧

user74 can't even be nonchalant about this one bro, i'm chalanting hard asf

user75 we do not care

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liked by redbullracing, f1, and 78,567 others

tagged maxverstappen1

ynusername first time in monaco, safe to say i enjoyed myself! so happy to see you shine this time my love<3

25,788 comments

user76 oh. my. fucking. god

user77 THEYRE FUCKING DATING OH MYFODNSJ

user78 THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE HOLDING YOUR HAND THAT SHOULD BE MEEE MAKING YOU LAUGHHH 🎤

user79 i'm in mourning

sabrinacarpenter CHEATER 🫵

ynusername BABY IT'S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE, IT WAS JUST ONE TIME 😣😣😣 IT WAS A MISTAKE

maxverstappen1 we've been dating for 2 years??

sabrinacarpenter SHUT UP FAST & FURIOUS NO ONE ASKED YOU

user80 i'm sorry 😃 two Y EARS

user81 i feel like i just got dumped. y/n don't do this, the kids need you 😔

maxverstappen1 i got p1 for you, i love you 🫶🏼

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hope you all enjoyed! please let me know your thoughts and feel free to leave a request for me to write something for your fav <3

[zepskies]

Hey could I please request headcanons for how Dean would react to reader texting him "she's busy" as a joke, yk kind of like

Dean: Hey baby

Reader: She's busy

I really hope this makes sense and isn't so confusing 😭😭

Ooh I think I know what you mean. 😏

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader Word Count: 850

Imagine: Texting Dean when he's on a hunt.

Once again, Dean sighed while he waited on his brother.

They were stopped at a 7-Eleven gas station after a hunt, but Dean had long ago filled up Baby's tank. Sam was inside, grabbing a few snacks for the road tomorrow. Supposedly.

Dean fished out his phone from his pocket and texted him.

Hey, Driving Miss Daisy. You good in there?

A couple of minutes later, Sam responded.

Yeah, just getting a few things.

Dean rolled his eyes. Right.

For half an hour? What, you taking a shit or something?

Sam's response was testy, just as Dean predicted.

Dean, give me a minute. Jesus.

Dean sighed, with a roll of his eyes. He scrolled back into his texts and found your name. He was a couple of states over from Lebanon, but still within the same timezone. You should still be awake back at the bunker.

He decided he wanted to hear your voice, let you know that he and Sam were going to catch one more night of rest here at the motel before they made the long drive back home.

But...you didn't answer when he called.

Weird. You were typically a night owl, either watching something or plugging away at your laptop. He tried texting you instead.

Hey, baby. You up?

He eventually saw the three gray dots pop up. You were typing...

She's busy.

Dean frowned. What the hell?

Had you invited someone over? Like Jody or Donna?

But neither of them would've replied like that...so he texted back.

Stop messing around.

Dean tried calling you again, but it went directly to voicemail this time. In came another text from "you."

She'll call you back, dude.

Dean's jaw ticked with annoyance. And despite himself, unease began to creep in and churn his stomach.

What the fuck is this?

She's in the shower. I'll tell her to call you back, no worries.

All right. WHO is this?

Ooh, are you the boyfriend? Yikes lol.

A deep, slow breath made it through Dean's nose. He closed his eyes, counted to ten, reminded himself that he did, in fact, love you.

Then he responded.

Babe, if you don't call me in the next 30 seconds, there's gonna be hell to pay when I get home.

Dean checked his watch and actually counted. About ten seconds passed before his phone rang with an incoming call...from you. He answered.

"Promise?" came your teasing voice. When it ended on a giggle, Dean rolled his eyes and rested his head back on the seat. He blew out a frustrated breath.

"Oh, trust and believe. You're gonna fuckin' get it this time," he said, though his lips curved on a reluctant smirk. You full on laughed at him then.

"You make it too easy," you replied.

He knew this. It wasn't the first time you'd teased him, and he knew it wouldn't be the last.

Still, he couldn't help being a bit irritated this time.

"You know, how would you like it if I did that to you?" he asked. "Wouldn't be so fucking funny then, would it?"

"...Okay. You're right. I'm sorry, baby," came your more contrite voice. But he could still hear your smile. Could imagine the way you might soothe a hand along his arm, if you were here.

"How about I make it up to you?" you offered.

That worked a slow smirk onto his face. "Yeah? What did you have in mind?"

For the next few minutes, you purred into his ear about all the things you'd been thinking of while he was gone. Daydreaming about the talents of his hands, lips, and tongue.

In particular, you reminded him about a certain birthday wish that he still hadn't claimed from a couple weeks ago, when he and Sam got wind of this hunt.

Two weeks really was too damn long, in your opinion. (He agreed with you.)

Now with a half-straining bulge in his jeans, Dean licked his lips and tightened his hand on the leather wheel of the car.

"All right. Sounds like a plan to me, sweetheart," he said, deceptively breezy. As if you'd just told him you planned to make tacos for dinner.

"When are you getting home?" you asked.

He heard the tone of your voice, like black silk. It sent a tendril of heat down his spine, raising the hairs on his forearms.

"Tonight," Dean said. Deeper, a note of gravel in his words. "I'll see you tonight."

"Good." Once again, he heard the smile in your voice. "I love you."

He sighed, and raised a hand to card through his hair.

"Love you too...even though you play too fucking much," he muttered the latter bit.

Your laughter once again reached his ears, reluctantly making him smile.

He hung up with you just before Sam finally opened the passenger seat door and climbed in with two hefty grocery bags. Did he do a whole damn shopping spree in there?

...Whatever. Dean shook his head and started the car.

"Change of plan," he said. "We're heading home."

"What? Thought we were gonna catch a few hours of sleep. It's a long drive, Dean," Sam said, earning his brother's gaze.

"Yeah, well, you'll live," Dean snarked. A more devious grin spread across his face. "I've got a date."

And she's about to get punished.

The Impala's tires screeched as Dean pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

AN: Ha! This one was fun. 😘 Thanks for the prompt!

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[qveerthe0ry]

Your Ride, Best Trip

Summary: You sleep with your boyfriend Marcus for the first time Word Count: 9,001 Pairing: Marcus Pike x f! afab! reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, first time, vaginal fingering, oral (m! and f! receiving), unprotected PIV, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, so much fluff, so much kissing Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar as ALWAYS. Love you homies I'm kissing u both <3 A/N: I have nothing to say for myself this time

Marcus Pike is perfect. 

He’s your dream man. 

He’s sweet. He brings you flowers just because, and he’s remembered your go-to coffee order, and he never goes to bed without texting you goodnight.

He’s effortlessly kind. He offers to walk your dog for you when you aren’t feeling well enough to get out of bed, and he always does the dishes when you cook for him, and he makes sure his bathroom is stocked with all the personal products you use at your own place. 

He’s fucking handsome. His smile is straight and pearly white, and his big brown eyes warm you up, and the way his broad shoulders fill out those suits he wears to work never fails to make you weak in the knees. 

He’s so smart, and he’s so funny, and he’s all yours… finally. 

See, when he hadn’t so much as kissed you by your third date, you wigged out a bit. 

How could you not? He’d been so thoughtful and caring and all you wanted was to feel those pillowy, soft lips against your own. 

So you asked him what was up, and he told you.

Divorced. Broken engagement. A whole year of therapy to pinpoint what went wrong, what he could change, and how he could do better, how he could feel better. And then, he said, he found you— like fate— when he wasn’t even looking, when he least expected it. 

You had no problem taking it slow. You’re still convinced you’d wait forever for him, as perfect as he is.

After too many little dates to count, he told you he wanted to be your boyfriend, if you’d have him.

You told him you’d love for him to be your boyfriend, of course. You’d be crazy not too. 

And then he finally kissed you.

It was slow and hesitant, but it still made your heart race, made your stomach do flips. He cut it off before it could become anything more than chaste, and left your front door with a sheepish goodnight. 

You’ve kissed a lot since then. You never really enjoyed kissing that much, before. It always just seemed like a means to and end, a formality before moving on to other things. 

But now it’s one of your favorite ways to pass the time with him. Waiting for an Uber to take you downtown, finally getting to his place on Friday after a long work week, cuddling in bed together with an old movie playing.

You haven’t made out with anyone this much since high school. And you enjoy it, you do, but Jesus Christ, he’s been your boyfriend for three weeks now and you need him. 

It doesn’t help that he touches you like you’re the last person on earth. His hands are so big and they’re gentle and electric when they find the bit of skin just under the hem of your shirt. 

You think it’s going to happen, this time. Friday night takeout has long been abandoned in the living room. You’re in his bed, in his clothes, and his pinky is teasing at the waistband of his sweats that you’re wearing. 

His tongue in your mouth is making you dizzy, and there’s no more blood in your brain with all of it rushing between your legs. You whimper, and you arch against him, and you want him so bad but you can’t say it. You’d feel bad, making him rush when he’s made it clear he wants to take things slow. 

When his lips leave yours, you open your eyes, and find his pupils obstructing all the deep, dark brown you adore. 

You have to squeeze your thighs together for a miniscule amount of relief. He notices. Of course he does. Damn that Quantico training. 

“Sweetheart—”

His eyes flicker down to your lips. You’re sure they look obscene, red and slick from nearly an hour of him sucking and nibbling on them. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

You don’t know why you say it, but you are sorry. You feel so bad for wanting him like this, desperate and aching in his bed, over eager. 

“Don’t be,” he shakes his head and gives you a reluctant smile, a smile that tells you you’re going to fall asleep extremely sexually frustrated. 

But it’s fine. He’s so worth it. 

You give him a soft smile back, and lean in to peck his lips. But he pulls away with his brow furrowed. 

“What do you want?” 

His voice is gentle when he asks. So is his hand on your back, under his shirt you’ve claimed. But it doesn’t stop that fight or flight response from kicking in. 

“Nothing! Nothing, Marcus, I’m okay— I’m great. Just wanna cuddle.” 

But the creases in his forehead don’t smooth out, and his hand ceases the soothing circles across your spine. 

“You’re lying.” 

You sigh and close your eyes. 

“I’m not lying, I’m just— I don’t want to push you to move too fast.” 

You expect him to be angry. But when you open your eyes again, his own have taken on that puppy-like quality you usually love. Right now, it just makes you feel guilty. 

“I’ve been lying, too,” Marcus whispers. 

It’s your turn to scrunch your face up. Your blood runs cold, waiting for him to elaborate. A million scenarios run through your head at lighting speed— all worse and worse until your breathing picks up and you beg him with your eyes to just get on with it—

“I have a small dick.” 

His face is so flushed. He can’t meet your gaze.

He’s staring at the bedsheets between you, and you’re both just silent for a long, awkward moment. 

“I mean— the divorce and all that, it’s all true. And I did want to keep from moving too fast. But— the last few weeks I guess I’ve just been… stalling?” 

He finally looks up from the threads to gauge your reaction. 

“Marcus…”

“I get it, okay? If you wanna go. I know I lied, and you didn’t sign up for—“

“Marcus.”

You watch his shoulders raise and his mouth snap shut, and he looks terrified.

“I don’t want to leave. You didn’t lie. It’s just— you really think that would bother me?” 

He lets out a big breath, and the tension in his body eases up a little. 

“I don’t know. Most people were… bothered. I guess,” he shrugs. 

You cradle his jaw in your hand, let the day-old stubble tickle the pad of your thumb as you think about how to best navigate this conversation. 

Because saying ‘I don’t care’ seems too dismissive. But you don’t. You couldn’t possibly care less about what’s in his pants, when everything else about him has made you fall so, so deep already. But you don’t want to make it sound like it’s something you have to even bargain with, like the pros outweigh the cons, like it even is a con. Because it’s not. 

“I’m not bothered,” you finally tell him. 

He still doesn’t meet your eyes, in fact, he rolls his. 

“You don’t have to lie to me. It’s okay, I’ve heard it all. I know I’ve lead you on—”

“Jesus,” you cut him off, “what did— who made you feel this way?” 

He finally looks at you. His eyes are wide and he looks vulnerable and hesitant. You swipe away some hair that’s fallen flat across his scrunched forehead. 

“Everyone?” 

You sigh his name, and you’re tentative when you lean forward to kiss him, softly, when he lets you. 

He looks less terrified when you pull back. You try to smile, but this whole interaction has left such a bad taste in your mouth that it feels more like a grimace when your lips turn up. 

“That’s— Fucking awful, to be frank. Pardon my French.”

He chuckles, but his gaze falls away from your face again. His sheets are not that interesting to look at. 

“Really, Marcus. I mean— maybe if someone’s just looking for a hookup, then I get it. You want something specific, whatever. But why would you ever think you were leading me on?

All you’ve done is be sweet to me, and shown interest in me, and taken care of me. Unless you’re like, secretly an ax murderer, or committing some kind of major tax fraud, you haven’t led me on at all.”

He’s still not looking at you. Why won’t he look at you, and believe you? 

“I don’t want to sound dismissive. I understand you’re insecure about it. I’m insecure about some things too. I don’t want to invalidate that. But I need you to know that the last thing I care about is how big your dick is.” 

There. He’s looking at you. He looks a little mortified, but he’s finally meeting your gaze. 

“Really?”

You scoff. 

“Really really.”

A reluctant smile tugs on the corner of his pretty mouth. 

“Why?”

“Because— now, don’t go getting a big head about this— you’re perfect. Like, everything about you. You’re sweet and you make me laugh and you’re gorgeous.”

His face flushes, but he lets you continue.

“And I’m in this, with you. I want this to go somewhere. And I think we’re super compatible.”

“Me too,” he whispers.

“Good, so… we’re on the same page then.”

You watch him lick his lips, and his hand that’s been loosely draped over your waist finally starts back up, drawing little circles across the base of your spine. 

“And… There’s other reasons,” you mumble, voice low with a hint of mischief.

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah… For one, your hands.”

“My hands?”

He emphasizes his question with a squeeze of your hip, and you giggle at the way it tickles, and also with a bit of embarrassment. 

“Yeah… They’re uh… big. I look at them a lot. Honestly surprised you haven’t noticed.”

He huffs, lets his big hand travel further up the shirt on your back. 

“Your nails are always trimmed, and— your fingers are long and thick. I’ve thought about them a lot.”

He breathes your name, and now you realize you’re the one avoiding eye contact. When you look back, his pupils are all blown out again, and it spurs you on.

“And I love to give head.”

“Jesus.”

“And the bigger it is, the quicker I get tired. I could stay down there all night, if my jaw didn’t get sore.” 

“Sweetheart—”

“Really, it’s one of my favorite things, making someone fall apart under my mouth. But I hate gagging and choking my way through it. It’s tedious.”

He says your name again, this time with a warning tone. 

You bite your lip to keep anything from tumbling from your mouth unwarranted. 

“You’re not lying.”

His eyes dart back and forth across your face, and you shake your head in lieu of opening your mouth again. 

“Fuck.”

It’s the first time Marcus has cursed in front of you. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and your clit throbs. 

“I’ve thought about you so much. Your lips, you have to know, right? How plump and full they are… I think about them at night, when I’m touching myself.” 

That’s convincing enough, apparently. Before you can embarrass yourself any further with your confessions, he surges forward to press those plush lips against yours and groans into your mouth. 

His hand flattens against your back and pulls, manhandling you closer to him. Your fingers find his silky hair and tangle in the strands, holding on for dear life at this shift between the two of you. 

You can’t muster up an ounce of shame. Finally, you have Marcus where you want him, pressed against you. You hike a leg over one of his, getting it between your thighs for even the smallest amount of friction. 

You feel him gasp, chest inflating to press even closer against yours. It’s a rush, finally getting this after waiting so long. 

Your hands scramble to get under his white t-shirt. His skin is hot, even against your sweaty palms. There’s so much to feel, the slight swell of his stomach, and the muscle of his flank, the soft but firm pecs. 

You whine when he pulls away from your lips. He shushes you gently, and you open your eyes to watch his slick lips and his hooded eyes and flushed face disappear briefly, just quick enough to shed his shirt. 

Smooth, is the first thing that comes to mind. His tan skin has no hair above his belly button, just the errant freckle here and there. His nipples are peaked, and you reach out to press your thumb against one before your mind catches up to the action, before you realize you’re gawking. 

But when your hand stutters against his skin and you look up at him, he’s smirking, amused and turned on. You falter a bit, mouth open while you search for something to say, some sort of excuse as to why you’re devouring him like you’re starved. 

He saves you though, with his low, grumbled voice. 

“I think about you, too. All the time.” 

You dig your nails into his soft skin at his admission, scraping against his chest. 

“You know that? You think I haven’t had you a million different ways in my head?” 

Your heart stops beating, and you stop breathing, and the heat between your legs only gets heavier and wetter. 

“You want me to show you, sweetheart?”

Your heartbeat comes back as a rush in your ears, and you squeeze the meat of his pec as you nod. 

He kisses you again, licks at your lips until you suck his tongue into your mouth, and now it’s just filthy. No more pretense, it’s been months of pretense, and neither of you have any more patience. 

His fingers seek out your own nipple, a tight bud protruding through cloth, and he rolls it between his fingers gently over the material of his shirt. 

“You come over and wear my clothes like this, and you think you don’t drive me crazy?” 

The words are grumbled into your mouth, against your cheek, then your jaw and your neck as he seeks out more of you to kiss. 

“I don’t wash them when you leave. I wear them and I smell you all day and it makes me feel insane.”

You mewl at his admission. Everything he says now is so fucking raw, now that you’ve broken down his walls. He shushes you again, grabs the hem of his shirt to help you pull it over your head. 

He curses when he sees you. It’s the first time. You’ve both been toeing this line of modesty, and maybe you’d be more nervous if you weren’t careening toward the pleasure he’s promised you. 

He coaxes you to lie on your back beside him, and his mouth works a slow trail down the side of your neck, nipping and suckling until he finally gets your nipple in his mouth. You arch into it, encouraging him with a hand tangled in his thick hair. You feel his groan reverberating around your rib cage when you scrape your nails back and forth across his scalp. You need him, like nothing you’ve ever craved before. 

“Marcus—”

“I know, I know.”

His syrupy voice isn’t as soothing as his lips, though, when he cranes his neck back up to kiss you again. He nips there, a sneaky distraction from the way his fingers trail down to circle your navel, and then even farther, teasing the hem of his sweatpants you’re wearing. His featherlight touch makes you jolt when it finally registers, your stomach jumping under his fingers. 

“Can I?”

You’re nodding against his lips, into the kiss, and then whining when his hand breaches the waistband. Those thick, long fingers flutter across your mound. Your breath catches on every wiggle. But when his fingers splay out, half on one side of your slit and half on the other, teasing your lips, you exhale hard and press up into his touch. 

“Oh, are you that sensitive?”

His voice is half-teasing, half-shocked, as he mumbles into the tingling skin of your neck. 

“It’s just you.” 

And it’s true. There’s no ego-stroking here. You’ve waited too long to get this and now you’re fiending, any touch is a relief. 

And he’s huffing into that skin under your ear, like you’re playing it up too much, but he bites down on the skin anyway and groans. 

“So sweet, huh?”

You make a disgruntled noise but there’s not enough blood in your brain to get your point across. Instead, you wrap your hand around his meaty forearm and force his fingers lower, where you know your underwear is a soaking, sticky mess. 

He curses and pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. You’re certain you know what he sees, blown out pupils and sweat-slick forehead and bitten, shiny lips. 

“That’s all for me?” 

There’s a sly smile tugging at one side of his mouth, just barely there, but you see it in the way one dimple grows more than the other. You nod in answer, scrape your nails up the hair on his arm and watch him shudder.

But he retreats from between your legs, and chuckles when you squeeze his forearm tighter in protest. The sound makes you shiver, all low and gruff and teasing. But he softens the blow with another one of his kisses, heated and sloppy and needy. His hands, always so gentle and careful and big, find the creases between your hips and thighs. It makes you arch up into the touch and whimper again, and you wonder briefly if you’ll ever not be desperate for him again. 

He watches your face twist up when he pulls away from you, watches the way your breasts move with every heave of your lungs. His dark eyes travel lower, where his thumbs sear circles into your hips, and his tongue swipes across his lower lip. 

“Can I take these off, sweetheart?” 

The tenderness in his voice fills you with a completely different warmth, white hot flames simmering into a blaze of feelings you aren’t sure you’ve ever truly experienced before. You let it consume you. 

“Yes, please.”

He hums a satisfied little noise as his fingers hook under the waistband. He takes his time, making sure to catch your underwear as well. It’s a sight, his huge hands working your only remaining cover down, down, until you’re bare to him and he’s gently cradling each of your calves to fully remove the last of your clothes. 

Those hands work their way back up, attentive, memorizing the valleys and peaks of your flesh, the nuances of your skin, the way it bends over your joints. Before you know it, he’s propped himself up beside you once again, one arm supporting his weight so his other hand can work its way between your thighs. 

You drag your eyes away from his fingers to look at him, only to find him focused on your face. 

It’s a few long moments before either of you move or speak or breathe. It’s you who breaks the spell, only because you know you’re at the very edge of control. 

“You sure you’re ready?”

You reach up to cradle his neck in your hand. It’s hot to the touch, and so are his ears, the tips of them burning a cute pink where your thumb grazes them. His eyes get softer and crinkle even more around the edges.

“I’m positive… can’t believe I psyched myself out for so long.”

He huffs and shakes his head at himself. You’re ready to kiss that apprehension away again, but his hand on your thigh pulls, as gentle as everything else he’s done, to spread yourself open for him. 

The cool air makes your breath catch in your throat. Or maybe it’s the anticipation. So close to what you’ve thought about every single night for weeks. Months– since the day you first met, if you’re being honest. 

He keeps his eyes on you, and you hold his gaze even though it burns. But only until his fingers brush you. Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling, mouth open wide in shock at how electric just one simple touch feels. 

His finger glides so easily around your opening, and you hear him gasp as he explores all the slick.

“You’re soaked.” 

His voice is thick with awe, as another finger joins in on the fun, gathering up your arousal. But they don’t breach, and you feel like he’s teasing, readying a whine in protest. 

The noise gets stuck in your throat when they trail up, gliding through your swollen folds. They find your clit, full and begging for attention, and circle with hardly any pressure. 

Oh, he’s fucking good at this. 

There’s no apprehension in his movements. It’s like he’s read a fucking manual on how to press all your buttons. The light, slick touches are building up that heat in your gut quicker than you can ever remember with anyone else. 

You’re stunned silent, eyes pinched shut and your head tilted back into the mattress, digging in for even an ounce of grounding. 

“That feel good, sweetheart?”

Your vocal chords come back to life, finally, as you whimper from the gentle drag of his fingers. 

“You have no idea.”

He chuckles, and you open your eyes to see his own still trained on your face. 

“I think I do,” he mumbles.

He shifts, presses his hips into you, and the hard line of him digs into your side. 

You clench around nothing, and your clit pulses under the pads of his fingers. He curses and responds to the needy little bud, applying more pressure and speeding up those little circles. 

All the while he grinds his hips into you, soft little movements that sync up with his hand, and you want him so bad. You’re losing patience by the second, the only thing keeping you from pouncing is the way his fingers work you over so perfectly it’s like you’re touching yourself. 

You’re not, though, and that becomes perfectly clear when one thick, long finger presses lower and slips into you. It slides so easily, despite how much girth it has on one of your own. You both make stuttered noises at the feeling, and Marcus’ lips capture your own to let them mingle together. 

Your hips egg him on, lifting and shifting, but he is teasing now. It’s a slow drag in and out, his finger pin straight, and if he hadn’t been so diligent this entire time you’d think he didn’t know what he was doing. 

But you whine, a soft plea of his name into his mouth, and he obliges. That thick finger crooks up, just as the heel of his hand flattens against your clit, and stars bloom behind your eyelids. 

You groan, and he laps it up before his lips leave yours. 

“That’s it. This what you needed?”

A pathetic whimper comes out in response as you nod your head. His finger presses harder into that perfect spot, and his palm slides over your wet clit. You’re clenching around him, savoring the feeling of being filled by him, working your hips down and back to meet his motions. It grows and grows, that feeling in your gut, so close that you can’t be bothered to worry about what needy noises you’re making.

He mutters another frantic curse, and his hips jump to press his cock into you harder. 

“I gotta taste you, sweetheart. Can I? Will you let me?” 

You nod so fast you’re surprised your head doesn’t detach from your neck. He soothes that frenzied part of your brain with another kiss, slips his finger out of you, and moves to get between your legs. 

You thread your fingers through his hair to keep him still, even if it’s just for a moment. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and the drag of his sweatpants across your sensitive center makes you arch up into him for more, to seek out more friction. 

He just huffs a laugh against your lips and angles his hips away, denying you the simple pleasure of grinding against the tent in his pants. 

“Not yet. Let me take my time with you. You’ve waited so long, right? I’ll make it up to you, you just gotta let me.” 

You huff. 

You should’ve known Marcus would be just as much of an infuriating tease in the bedroom as he is outside of it. The trivia dates and the cocky smirk he always sported when he won, the little bets he’d make on how a movie’s plot was going to twist, the refusal to ever let you pay for dinner— it’s all adding up now, and you can’t believe you didn’t expect it. 

Marcus Pike is a smug little prick underneath the humble, sheepish grins, and it’s hot and it’s yours. 

“Put your money where your mouth is,” you breathe. 

He chuckles and trails said mouth down the length of your naked body. You watch his plump lips explore your skin and leave wet patches littered in their wake, shiny little stakes claiming you. His five o’clock shadow is just long enough to abrade your skin a bit, delightful little pricks that make your muscles jump involuntarily.

He makes it to your mound before looking up at you. His brown eyes are mostly obstructed by his pupils, but they shine all glassy in the dim lamplight of his bedroom. His shitty grin has faded and he looks determined, and it steals the breath from your lungs. 

He teases some more, of course he does. His lips peck and tickle the creases of your thighs, the skin of your outer lips, and the very tip of your hood before you finally see his pink tongue slip out. 

All of a sudden you can’t watch, can only let your head fall back and close your eyes and drown in the anticipation. 

The pointed tip of his tongue just barely grazes you, tracing a razor-thin line from your dripping hole all the way to your mound. It tickles, and your breath comes in faster as he does it again, and again, and again. 

Just before you can beg for more, he flattens his tongue and drags it up your slit. He laps at your folds, slow and calculated, and the satisfied noises tumble out of you as you feel his taste buds glide against you. 

All you can think to do is find his hair and use it to hang on. Your legs spread wider, and he takes the encouragement. His tongue finds your clit, so swollen and sensitive with need by now. He circles it, then wiggles his tongue back and forth, playing with it, playing with you. He shakes his head from side to side to give you more, presses even more firmly, and the heavy feeling in your gut tightens tenfold. 

Your hips start to move on their own, rocking up into his face, helping his motions along. He groans with it, muffled and wet between your legs. 

A delirious thought gets stuck in your horny brain. You don’t know how you’ll ever let him leave this spot between your legs now that you’ve finally got him here. It’s so wet and warm and incredible, and your nails dig into his scalp to drive the point home, to try and lock him here forever. 

His voice snaps you from your reverent thoughts, thick and deep. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. You taste so good, looks so fucking pretty.” 

You brave a glance down at him, his red soaked mouth and his dark eyes that are boring holes into your pussy. One of his hands releases its grip on your thigh to glide across the dripping mess of your center. He toys with you, spreading you open with splayed fingers, watching the way your folds bend to his whim. With it exposed and protruding and aching for his touch, he leans down to wrap his plush lips around your clit and suckle. Curses fly from your lips at the concentrated attention, and it’s so so so fucking good you’re sure you’re going combust. 

His hand slips lower, and his mouth doesn’t stop, and you’re dangerously close to tipping over the edge. And then two thick fingers slip easily into you, immediately seeking out that spot inside you and tapping there. 

It’s blinding pressure overwhelming the two places you need him most. He drums up a rhythm that would remind you of a dance, maybe, if your brain were cognitive enough to form a coherent thought. Down with his head, engulfing your clit, and up with his fingers, squeezing that spongy spot inside you. Over and over, he works you with soft grunts against your cunt until your fingers lock up in his hair and your hips start to shake. 

“Please don’t stop,” you pant, “I’m so close.” 

To his credit, and this is more than you can say for the majority of men you’ve been with, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down, nor does he speed up. He keeps at you exactly how you need it, moaning strung-out little noises into your center until you’re dropping. 

All the wind is knocked out of you. Your hips jolt into his face and he takes it in stride, lapping at your clit when the seal of his lips is broken from your erratic movements. You tremble through it, clench around his fingers, and squeeze his head between your thighs as you ride it out on his tongue. 

As the shivers roll through you, Marcus’ fingers slow, and though he can’t remove his tongue from you because of how your legs have him in a headlock, he stills his tongue so you can take the last bit of what you need from him. 

His breathing is just as heavy as yours, wheezing out moans and muffled words of encouragement. When you feel yourself slipping down from your peak, you let go of the death grip on his hair, and open your legs, and grant yourself a few deep breaths before you dare to look down at him. 

He carefully, cautiously pulls his fingers out of you. A comforting ‘shhh’ is cooed into the sweaty skin of your thigh when you make a strangled sound. Both of his hands splay out on either hip, a light and grounding touch accompanied by the kisses he’s dropping all over the skin he can reach. 

Finally, you grant yourself a peek down at him. The first thing you notice is how his broad shoulders are, heaving with baited breath. Then, his normally pristine hair, sticking out every which way and then some from your frantic fingers. 

His face is red, you guess from exertion. Or maybe you really did restrict some blood flow. Christ. That’s what he gets, being so goddamn good at that. 

And then his lips. His lips. Those lips that up until now you’ve only ever kissed or dreamed of. They’re even more plump, swollen and slick with you, shining just like his chin is. 

You don’t know what to say. You know you want to kiss him. Funny, considering that’s how all this started, but you’re dying to see what you taste like on him. 

Luckily, he breaks the silence, after licking those delectable lips and clearing his throat. 

“So… How’d it compare?” 

Your face contorts on its own, surprised at the sudden and intrusive question. 

“Pardon?”

But then he laughs, pressing those wet dimples into your heated skin to hide them. 

“To all those thoughts you told me about. How’d I do?” 

You laugh too then, a weary huff of breath as you sit up. 

“Don’t go fishing for compliments,” you tease, though there’s not much heat behind it with how out of breath you still are. 

He goes to respond, but you get a hand in his hair again and coax him up. You meet him halfway, swallowing his surprised noise when you finally get those pillowy lips against yours and lick at them, his tongue, his teeth, until you aren’t sure what taste is you and what is him. Until you realize you’re flat on your back again as he hovers over you, still between your thighs. 

You both hum when the kiss breaks, and you rest your forehead against his, nuzzle his nose and sigh at the floaty feeling in your limbs. 

“Better,” you whisper. 

You feel his grin bump into your own. You nip at it, playful and languid as you finally begin to get some of your bearings back. 

And then you’re shocked back into the realization that there’s all this smooth skin right in front of you, this hunk of a man hovering above, the one who just melted your brain into a fuzzy little mold of itself. You grab his hips as he licks into your mouth and scrape your nails up his flanks, unhurried, while the touch makes him shiver. 

You feel out the strength in his pecs, those broad shoulders you often daydream about, and then you push. Catching him off guard, he gasps as he loses his balance and tumbles to the side, and then laughs when you press him into the mattress and straddle his hips. 

You laugh along with him, but it slowly tapers off as his hands find your naked skin— your stomach and hips and back and then your ass, where it hovers just above that bulge in his sweatpants. 

He’s looking up at you with what you can only describe as horny apprehension. 

His eyelids droop over his dilated pupils, but his brow is all pinched up in the middle. His mouth hangs open, like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. 

So you kiss him, soft and gentle, as gentle as he’s been with you all night. His sigh washes heat across your cheeks, and you feel him relax under you just a little. 

But then you shift in his grasp, lower your ass, and press your soaking center to his crotch. You whimper at the feeling of his sweatpants dragging across your sensitive, wet cunt. He moans and bites at your bottom lip maybe a little too hard. 

But it’s okay. He pulls away and pants your name and you settle there, your weight pressed down on his cock. Your lips find that smooth patch in his stubble, biting that chiseled jaw, licking down the curve of his neck, his shoulder, up to his ear. You delight in every goosebump you draw, and breathe in his scent before you speak up. 

“Will you let me suck it?” 

All his breath rushes out in a big gust. His fingertips dig into your naked sides, and he nods. 

“Please.” 

It’s a barely-there whisper. You pull away from that silky soft skin where his pulse is hammering to check his reaction. 

He’s begging with his eyes. It makes you smirk, sitting up straighter, trailing your fingers down the front of his body until you reach the drawstring of his sweatpants. 

You’re still sitting on his groin, though. You give a little playful wiggle, and his hips rock up to grind harder. But you don’t want to tease any more. Every moment spent teasing him, you’re also denying yourself, and you’ve been patient for long enough. 

So you shift down the bed, nestled between his legs, and get to work on the tie of his pants. Every time your fingertips brush the hair below his belly button, he sucks in a breath. You finally get the thing untied, and look up one last time for permission before you start to drag the material down, grabbing his boxers as you go. 

Your eyes stay trained on his face instead of staring at his crotch, especially as he wiggles a bit and lifts his legs to remove his pants. You don’t want to stare, and you also don’t want to not look, you don’t want him to be uncomfortable at all with you. 

You want it to be perfect. You want to make him feel the way he makes you feel. 

He nods his head, and you cease averting your eyes to trail down his body, the bushy happy trail and the neatly trimmed hair above his cock and his cock. 

His little cock. 

It is, indeed, on the smaller side. Probably one of the smallest you’ve seen in real life. Three and half or four inches long, if you had to guess. 

And it’s so pretty, cut and on the thicker side, the slightest upward curve that makes your pussy tighten around nothing. 

You dive right in, press your nose to all the hair while you kiss at the base of him, humming when his cock twitches against the side of your face. He smells so good and clean, like always, but down here there’s even more of that Marcus smell that always lingers beneath his soap and cologne, salty and warm.

When you drag your eyes up to him, his head’s thrown back against the pillows, not looking at you. You want him to look, you want him to see how much you’re going to enjoy this. 

You’ll make him look, one way or another. 

For now, you just lathe your tongue up the underside of him, then back down to tickle his balls, all the while enjoying how his prick jerks under the attention. 

He’s making little noises, mostly puffs of breath and gasps, and his hands twist up in the sheets beside you. You grab one of them, slow and steady, and lead it to the back of your head. 

And then, you finally get your lips wrapped around the head of his dick, and you slowly sink down until he’s entirely in your mouth. 

It’s not until your nose presses against the flatness above his cock do you hear him release a strangled groan. That’s when you look back up at him and find him staring down, mouth agape, locked on your mouthful of him. 

You pull back up, wiggling your tongue as you go, memorizing the ridges and hairs and veins. Your eyes are locked on his, and his are locked on your lips, so you try to give him a show. 

You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, nod your head up and down to let his cockhead tickle your tastebuds. A gruff noise leaves him, hearty and hoarse, and you want to smile but you’re not in a position to. 

Instead, you flick your tongue against that little band of tissue just under his slit, and his hips stutter as his grip on the back of your head tightens. 

“Fuck, sweetheart.”

Now you do smile, your lips upturned against the head of his cock, and it jerks against your mouth while you kiss it, until you envelop it once more. 

You hum around him, at the weighted feeling of him occupying your mouth, how smooth it feels against your tongue and how nice it is to take him all the way in and not gag or choke or drool. 

It makes your cunt ache, makes you crave him even more, makes you want to be full of him everywhere. 

You reach a hand down to touch yourself. You’re still dripping, can feel it all slipping from your entrance and cooling your skin in the air conditioning. You’ve had just enough time to recover from the mess Marcus made of you. You’re sensitive but not too sensitive, when you trace your clit with your fingertips and moan around the mouthful of cock. 

“Oh fuck, are you touching yourself?”

Your eyes flicker open and look up to him. He’s clenching his jaw, grinding his teeth as his nostrils flare. You hum and nod your head to answer, his cock slipping back and forth through the ring of your lips. He whimpers, and his head tips back against the mattress again, and it makes you speed up the efforts on both him and yourself. 

He curses, soft little chants, kneading the back of your neck in his big hand as you suck him in over and over. You close your eyes and lose yourself in it for a bit, the way he slips so easily in and out, the way his hips move just a little, like he’s trying not to but he can’t help it. The sounds, his grunts and your sloppy mouth and your fingers working over your slick folds. 

He says your name. 

You hum, use your free hand to play with the fuzzy skin of his balls. 

He says your name again, and this time it’s urgent, almost panicked. 

“Sweetheart, stop, please.”

You do, immediately. You open your mouth wide and let him fall from your lips and unhand him while you look at his exerted face. 

“Are you okay?”

He huffs, and his cock bobs beside your face. 

“I’m so okay. I just— did you want me to…? It’s okay if you don’t, I just didn’t want it to be over—”

“Marcus.” 

His heated babbling stops as he clamps his mouth shut. His broad shoulders lift and drop with his heading breath.

“Do you want to fuck me?” 

You smooth your hands across the scattered hair on his thighs when you ask. His prick twitches again at your question. 

“I— Yeah. Yes. I do.”

He looks almost guilty about it, with his wide eyes and the bashful expression spreading across his face. 

“I want you to fuck me so bad,” you tell him, “I’ve wanted it for way too long.”

His breath leaves him in a shuddery exhale, something like relief or awe. 

“Yeah? You still want it?” 

His hand skates from the back of your neck to your jaw, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek. 

“Please, Marcus. Give it to me.” 

You turn your head to kiss his thumb, a sloppy little peck before you take it into your mouth. You smile around it when he groans, and bite it before it slips away. 

“Can you get on the edge of the bed for me?” 

You can, but not without throwing a cheeky ‘yes sir’ his way. You’re not sure if the noise he makes is from arousal or a lack of  amusement, but there will be plenty of time to explore that later. 

For now, you do as he says. You scoot so your ass is just about to fall off the side of his bed. The wooden bed frame is the perfect height to rest your heels on, and as Marcus slips a pillow under your head, you’re as comfortable as ever.

The mattress dips when he gets up to stand in front of you. The lamplight from the nightstand is really doing things for him. The slight sheen of sweat on his chest glistens, as does the wetness at his temples where his hair is starting to curl up. All those lean muscles have never been more apparent than they are now, the golden glow creating beautiful shadows across his naked body. 

He’s so hot. 

It doesn’t help that his big, warm hands snake up your bare thighs as he gets between them. His small dick stands at attention, pointing toward the ceiling, and you feel your pussy spasm with anticipation. 

“Please,” you whisper. 

He nods, steps closer as you spread your legs wider and wiggle even further off the bed. 

“Perfect, sweetheart.”

He leans over you with one hand on the bed to brace himself. The other is wrapped firmly around the base of his cock, and he looks down to watch it as he glides it through your slit. 

“Are you ready?”

You nod and hum your affirmative. He takes the go-ahead and his cockhead slides across your clit, down, so slowly, until it catches on the rim of your hole and you both gasp at the feeling. 

You look down to watch too, lifting up on your elbows to see the moment your pussy lets him sink inside, fluttering around him, engulfing his prick one inch at a time. 

You knew it. You fucking knew his cock was perfect but still you’re shocked at the way the curve makes him drag across your upper wall. And when his hips are flush with yours, all that pressure is concentrated at that bundle of nerve endings inside of you, and you’re going to lose your mind if he doesn’t move.

“Oh fuck.”

You let yourself flop back in the bed, but reach for his hand that’s supporting his weight. Your nails scrabble for purchase against the skin of his wrist as you curse again, your walls contracting around him as you tense. 

“Fuck, Marcus, please.”

You’re so far past caring about how desperate you sound. You need him, the textbook definition of it; it’s an absolute necessity that he fucks you. 

He curses, and you realize you’ve closed your eyes. When you open them, his jaw is hanging and he’s looking at you, your face, like it’s something he’s never seen before. Like he’s shocked you’re here in front of him. 

But his hips are still, and you’re helpless to the way your own cant up to urge him, and finally he’s pulling back out. The slow drag against the most tender spot inside you rips a noise from your throat, involuntary. He pulls almost all the way out, until the head of his dick is kissing your opening and you can feel how he stretches the tight ring of muscles. 

And then in again, almost as slowly, and you’re already out of breath. The feeling steals all the wind from your lungs. It’s setting you on fire, perfect friction against just the right spot, the one that’s still tender and alight from your previous orgasm. 

“It’s so fucking good,” you manage to choke out. 

Marcus moans above you, and his hips snap into you, and his free hand finds your waist so he can dig his nails into your flesh. 

“It is, fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking good.”

A bead of sweat drips from his nose and lands on your belly, and that seems to make you snap out of it. 

“Fuck me. Fuck me hard, please, make me come.”

You watch his mouth quirk up into a pretty smirk, dimples on full display. 

“Yes ma’am.”

Your giggles only last for a moment, dissolving into a high whine when he slides out of you and back in, a harsh thrust of his hips that doesn’t let up. 

He fucks you. You try to watch; it’s too hot not to. His biceps flex respectively, one with his effort to hold himself above you, and the other where he holds you in place by your waist. 

His neck, the one vein there that’s protruding as he bares his teeth. The way his chest is rapidly rising and falling as he drives into you. His big brown eyes, even darker now as he succumbs to the feeling of you. 

But you just can’t keep your eyes open for long. It feels too good, you’re too close to the edge. Your insides are so tender and alight from the first time you came. Every single thrust inside you is taking you apart and building your second so quickly. Your eyelids droop closed and there’s already stars blooming behind them. 

His little noises are louder, like this. Grunts and gasps and moans, falling over you, all for you. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you warn him.

Your back arches to encourage his pace. His skin slaps into yours faster as he groans.

“Thank god, me too. What do you need, sweetheart?” 

Without a verbal answer to his strained question, you slip your hand down to press against your throbbing clit. 

“Shit, yeah, play with your pussy for me. I wanna— fuck— let me see you come. Looks so gorgeous.”

His voice is thick in his throat, and you work your fingers over yourself faster. You’re clenching wildly around him, you can’t help it. Every thrust in sets your nerves on fire, almost too much, but not quite. His grunts are turning into growls, uninhibited and primal. You feel the mattress shift and open your eyes to find him standing up straight. 

Both hands grab your hips now, and that little angle change makes him grind even harder into your g-spot, and you’re tumbling over the edge. It’s been building under the surface for so long that when it hits, it’s blinding. There’s static in your toes that washes over you, up, up, dragging a fiery heat with it that consumes your center and makes your head fuzzy. 

There’s screaming. 

You’re screaming. Your eyes are clenched so tight, as are your fingers, all your joints, your pussy, around Marcus as he fucks you through it with sloppy thrusts. 

“That’s it, oh my god, sweetheart, you— fuck. I’m gonna come, I’m— where?”

“In me.”

Your throat is scratchy when you answer, and you don’t have any time to elaborate on why that’s not a bad idea. You’re still coming, wave after wave of warmth rolling across your body, and you’re vaguely aware of how wet everything is, the sound of him fucking you even more obscene. 

His shout doesn’t quite rival yours, but you feel it when he empties inside of you. His cock jerks and and twitches, wringing out every little bit of pleasure from you, and you think you’re still coming, the pinpricks of pleasure are still too intense to be aftershocks. 

He stays pressed as deep as he can be as his stomach convulses and his thighs shake, just like yours do where they’ve somehow wrapped around him. Your eyes open again, and the lamplight is so bright now, his breathing is so loud. He grunts and pulls out a bit, then presses back in, and again, until it falters and his whole body slumps. 

His top half collapses onto you, his little breaths huff and tickle the tingling skin of your belly. Your own breath comes out in a weak moan, and it takes all the strength you can muster just to run your fingers through his sweaty hair. 

“Jesus,” he says.

Your name cascading off his lips in such a strung out voice that it makes you clench around him again. 

“Huh?” 

God, how are you ever going to move again? 

“You uh… Is that a common occurrence?”

Christ, why is he using such big words? 

“What are you talking about?” 

He clears his throat. 

“You like— You squirted?”

You laugh, one delirious huff. It makes his head rock on your jiggling belly. 

“I what?”

You gather the will to look down at him. His mouth is open, surprised and amused, and his eyes are shiny and bright. 

“Yeah, like, a lot.”

He’s still inside you but softening, and his own chuckles make him slip out. 

You lift up on your elbows as he stands up straight and the evidence is clear. The hair above his dick and high on his thighs is all dark and soaked. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

The sheets on the edge of the bed are absolutely ruined, and you pray he’s one of those men that has a mattress protector. You’re more than a little mortified, and the way he’s staring at you, silent, is beginning to make you squirmy.

“What?” 

“Why do you seem so surprised?”

His fingertips are feather-light across your thighs, and you shiver. 

“I’ve never actually… done that? I would have warned you.”

He makes a pained sound, and those fingertips turn into a tight grip just above your knees. 

He doesn’t speak up. Instead, he lies on the bed beside you. He holds himself by his elbow, but that hand strokes your scalp while the other traces up and down your thigh, your hips, your breasts, anything he can reach. You avoid the topic at hand to relax into it, and you think you’re finally coming down as that boneless feeling washes over you. 

You’re vaguely aware of his cum dripping out of you, but the sheets are a lost cause anyway. You just watch his lax face, the way the wrinkles in his brow are all smoothed out, the way his eyes follow the patterns he’s drawing on your body. 

He catches you staring. His gaze meets yours and he smiles and it’s sunny. It warms you through, despite all the sweat that’s cooling on your body. 

“Hi,” he whispers. 

You giggle, and he does too. He tries to hold it in by biting his lip, but it’s no use. You will your exhausted bones to shift and face him, and he presses his lips to yours and they meld together.

It’s languid, unhurried, just reacquainting after too long apart. It feels a little goofy, with how you’re both smiling so wide, but it calms you into settling down after such a high. 

Both of your breathing seems even, when you part. 

“That was—”

“It’s never—”

You both chuckle. 

“Ladies first.”

You feel shy now. You can’t imagine why, but a fluttery feeling overtakes your stomach. 

“I was just gonna say… That was better than all those times I imagined it.”

You didn’t think it was possible, but his smile grows even wider. His eyes flicker from yours to the sheets between you, and you think maybe he feels as bashful as you do. 

“It’s never been that good.”

A sigh escapes him when he speaks, and his nervous gaze lands on you when his face falls into something more earnest. 

It takes your breath away. Because it’s never been that good for you either, and isn’t that such a perfect coincidence?

You tug him to you by the back of his neck, eat up the surprised little sound he makes against your mouth. 

“When can we go again?”

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU pt 2

Kara blinks, suddenly dumbstruck. Esme's t-shirt didn't do the woman justice. Her eyes catch briefly on a sharp jawline before being captivated by warm green eyes.

"Uhm, sorry, I-- I didn't mean..." Kara struggles with her words in a way she hasn't in years. "Are you--?"

"Yup," Lena confirms with a drawl, but her smile doesn't leave her lips. "Do I need to call security?"

"What? No! No, of course not, I didn't mean to barge-- I swear I wasn't looking for you."

Lena accepts the blithering answer at face value. "Good. It would be to have you thrown out before the show."

Sure enough, underneath her gray zip up hoodie Kara spies a flash of a silver bedazzled dress.

"I mean. For the record, you should." As soon as she says it, Kara picks up steam, suddenly angry on the artist's behalf. "I shouldn't have been able to get anywhere close to you---"

"It's okay," Lena assures her. "You don't look the type to be looking for an autograph."

Kara huffs, but finds a small smile creeping over her face. "No," she confirms. "I got lost."

One of Lena's eyebrows lifts.

"Well, first I got locked in the stairwell. Which is against code, by the way. And *then* I got lost."

Lena smirks, picking up her phone and typing out a short message. "Security," she explains.

"Oh."

"They'll be able to help you find your way better than I can."

Relief floods Kara, and then a thrill of excitement when Lena's smile broadens to a grin.

"You here with someone?"

Kara nods. "My goddaughter, Esme. She, uh.... she loves you. Rather a lot, actually."

"Tell her hi for me."

"I will-- oh! Shit, you've got a signal down here!" Kara fumbles her phone and her ticket, and in her rush to fire off a note to Esme promising to be there soon, doesn't notice when the ticket slips from her palm.

"Sorry," Kara rambles. "Damn. She's probably eaten all the nachos by now."

At that, Lena laughs, just as a hulking figure appears in the doorway behind Kara. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Hi Ryan," Lena greets, voice still full of mirth. "Miss, uh..."

"Danvers. Kara Danvers," Kara blurts.

"Miss Kara Danvers here got a little turned around. Would you mind showing her to where she needs to go?"

"Of course, ma'am."

Lena nods approvingly. When her gaze returns to Kara, Kara can't help but notice the brief glance that flicks over her, and the consequent blush that blooms in the younger woman's cheeks.

"I've got fifteen until places," Lena tells her. Her voice is smooth and low, velvet in the cinderblock room. "I'm sorry we can't chat more, but I'm sure Esme is worried about you."

Kara nods, swallowing. "Right. Um... thank you."

"My pleasure." Lena's crinkle at the corners. "Lovely to meet you."

"You too," Kara issues, turning to follow Ryan out the door and into the hall. It's not until the door shuts behind them that Kara realizes how hard her heart is thumping, or the tremble in her fingers.

"Jesus," she mutters, giving her hand a shake.

"Which level, Miss Danvers?"

"Second mezzanine, restrooms near the food vendors."

Ryan escorts her until Kara spots Esme, at which point he departs with her thanks. Esme dashes towards her, eyes wide. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Kara promises, giving her a hug. "Just got turned around. Sorry for taking so long."

"Come on!" Esme urges, already moving on from the subject. "We've got to get to our seats!"

Kara trails closely behind her goddaughter as they move towards the stands, but her thoughts remain with the raven haired woman two flights below.

Maybe tonight would be special after all.

[megxplryxb]

For you, I would ruin myself

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey stranger, long time no see."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Poor guys been like a lost puppy without you. Honestly, its getting embarrassing. I’m clearly not enough for him.” You sigh sarcastically as Steve shakes his head.

“I highly doubt that honey.” He replies truthfully, voice in the back of his mind screaming that you’d be enough for him. That you’ve always been enough for him.

You look away from him, placing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, hoping he hasn't caught the slight tint of pink creeping onto your cheeks with his tiny compliment.

“Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you but he’s playing with the band at the Hideout tonight.” You shrug, tugging on your bottom lip.

“That’s cool, I totally should have checked first anyway. I’ll catch him another time.” Steve replies, playing with his car keys.

“Y’know, Eddie’s not the only one who likes beer or do you just not want to hang out with me?” You smile, raising a brow and god he knows he’s in trouble. He knows he should shake his head, make up some excuse and run for the hills but he can’t. Not when you’re looking at him like that, like you want him to stay and fuck he really wants to.

“Of course I want to hang out with you, I just don’t want to be imposing.” He explains as you scoff.

“Imposing? Please, I could really do with a break, I’ve been cleaning this place all day for Wayne before he gets back into town tomorrow. Eddie’s a total pig, I swear he’s lucky he’s cute.” You laugh but Steve doesn’t really laugh with you. He hates that you think Eddie is cute, hates the way you say his name. Hates that he has no right to feel so jealous but he can’t help it. Because it was Steve’s own fucking fault for not telling you how he felt months ago, when he had a real chance to make you his before Eddie went and beat him to it.

“So, are you coming in or?” You ask, eyes wide as you start walking back towards the trailer.

This was Steve’s chance to run, to get into his car and go home like he’d originally planned to do. Why hadn’t he just done that in the first place? Why did he think coming to Eddie’s was such a good idea and how the fuck had he ended up alone with you? Robin would fucking kill him if she could see him now. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be here. You should have been working in the Hideout like you did every Friday night since you left Family Video and him behind all those months ago.

“Steve?” You call again when you don’t hear his footsteps following you.

“Huh? Oh, yeah sorry, I’ll just grab the beers.” He finally answers, smiling at you as you nod happily, heading back inside.

Steve curses at himself, knowing he couldn’t leave now, it’d be too obvious. You were his friend just as much as Eddie, the only problem was, he didn’t want Eddie like he wanted you.

When he finally joined you inside, you were rummaging through a drawer to find a bottle opener that Wayne kept in there for safe keeping. Steve tries to look anywhere but at you as his body stood stiff in the doorway while you made your way towards the couch, plonking your tired body down. He could tell you’d been cleaning all day, the trailer unrecognisable from the usual mess Eddie had it in. Fresh hoover lines apparent on the spotless carpet, laundry washed and folded, pillows puffed, trash emptied and the countertops cleared and wiped down. There was even a scent of lavender in the air, compared to the usual smell of motor oil and cigarettes.

“You can sit down you know?” You smirk as Steve smiles, shaking his head.

"Sorry, I was just momentarily distracted by the fact that I could actually see the floor in here for once.” He jokes, placing the alcohol on the side table as you giggle, feeling him slump down beside you, letting out a heavy breath.

“Hi.” Steve smiles, turning his head towards you, resting his eyes on your porcelain face. It’s unfair how good you look right now, so effortlessly beautiful with your hair up and no make up on. Christ, you could be on the cover of any magazine, he thinks to himself.

“Hi.” You smile back, nudging your knee with his playfully and Steve’s thankful you can’t hear how fast his heart is beating just from the slightest bit of contact.

“Beer?” He offers, ripping open the box to grab two bottles.

“Thought you’d never ask, Harrington.” You tease, taking one from his hand, passing him the bottle opener.

“Cheers.” He grins nervously, clinking his drink with yours before he takes a large swig.

Forty minutes pass and you're both already on your second drink, catching up and talking as if no time at all had gone by. It had always been that way between you both, effortless and easy and Steve knew it was dangerous territory. He so quickly forgot all of the reasons why he shouldn't be here with you right now when your leg was brushing against his own, your head thrown back in a fit of laughter as he recalled an embarrassing story about Keith from the previous week and Christ, he had missed your infectious laugh.

He had missed everything about you.

He couldn't remember the last time you two had been alone together, it had to have been a couple of months at least and it felt nice that he had you all to himself for a little while without any distractions. Some of his favourite times had been your shifts together at Family Video, making each other laugh non stop, discussing the latest gossip of the town while stacking the shelves, taste testing the new candy when Keith left early like he always did and making up little games to play on nights where the hours just seemed to drag. You brightened up the store every time you walked in, made work fun and bearable and he looked forward to any shift that he got to spend with you.

That was until you went and left of course.

Steve had been utterly devastated the day Robin told him you'd given your two weeks to Keith, confused as to why you hadn't told him yourself and a little hurt that he was the last to know. He remembers Eddie coming to pick you up on your last day, a shit eating grin on his face now that you were going to work at the Hideout, meaning he'd get to see his new girlfriend way more while Steve got to see you much less. He had to clench his fists as he watched you walk out the door with Eddie, forcing a smile as you looked over your shoulder, giving him one last look before waving goodbye with tears in your eyes. He wanted so badly for you to change your mind, wanted to beg you to reconsider but Robin reminded him that it was for the best, hoping it would give Steve the time he needed to get over you.

“Y’know I was really starting to worry about you, was even thinking about setting up a search party.” You giggle, taking Steve away from him thoughts as he rolls his eyes playfully.

“I’m flattered you were so concerned about me.”

“I’m serious! I kept asking Dustin about you but he said he hadn’t seen you much either.”

“Well if you hadn’t left Family Video to go work with your boyfriend, you’d still see me everyday.” Steve responds in a tone that’s half teasing/half bitter and he winces seeing how taken aback you are by his comment

“Eddie’s not the reason I left, Steve.” You reply, pressing the bottle to your lips. If only he knew the real reason.

“Oh come on, why else would you leave? I can’t imagine it was for the scenic views or massive wage increase.” He scoffs sarcastically as you avoid his gaze.

“It was just time for me to move on.” You shrug, tugging on your bottom lip, wishing he would drop this topic.

“What do you mean? I thought you liked working at the Video store?” He quizzes, confused by your answer.

“I did, I loved it there but I just needed a change.”

“But that doesn’t make any—”

“Steve, can we please drop it?” You beg, your lips turning downward in a frown as you fidget with the hem of your boyfriends t-shirt.

“Yeah—yeah sure, sorry. I didn’t mean to be an asshole about it, it’s just that…I miss you. I mean, we miss you, Robin and I.” He swallows hard as you smile at him, your cheeks turning hot at his words.

“I miss you too, Steve. Both of you.” You reveal before a silence falls over the room for a moment.

"Are you hungry? You wanna order a pizza or I’m pretty sure there’s potato chips in the cupboard if you want some? You ask, finally easing the tension between you.

"I'm good. I had dinner in Enzo's a while ago.” Steve mumbles.

"Ah, I thought you were a little too dressed up just to come here and get drunk with Eddie. Were you on a date or something?" You question, raising your brows suspiciously at him, trying to ignore the knot forming in your stomach.

"Third one this month." He sighs, taking another sip of beer, completely missing the subtle hint of jealousy that flashes across your face momentarily.

"Wow, three dates huh? You must really like her." You force a smile, taking a drink from your own bottle as he huffs and shakes his head.

"Oh, it wasn't with the same girl. I meant three different dates, all equally terrible though." Steve confesses, a heavy sigh escaping his lips and you hate the relief you feel when you hear him say it.

"You really have been busy, no wonder we haven’t seen you lately." You say sarcastically as Steve remains silent, trying to hold himself back from saying everything he wanted to. He wants to tell you the reason you haven’t seen him is because he’s terrified of his feelings for you. That the reason he's going on so many dates is so he can try and move on from you. He wants to tell you that he’s terrified of ruining his friendships because he can’t stop thinking about you, that he can't stand seeing you with Eddie, because every time he sees his friend kiss you, he wants to punch his lights out, ‘cause you're supposed to be his girl. But he's too fucking late. He missed his chance with you and it's something he's going to have to live with for the rest of his life.

“So, what was so terrible about them?" You ask, turning to face him as he sits back trying to think of how best to answer that question. The only real answer he has to give is that they weren't you and nothing after that really mattered. He plays with the paper wrapped around his bottle, tearing it off bit by bit as you burn a hole through his head, waiting for a response. He's too afraid to look at you, terrified that if he does, it'll give him away and you'll figure it out for yourself, that he's completely and utterly head over heels in love with you.

"I uh, I guess none of them were really for me." He shrugs, keeping his eyes on the carpet below as you gaze at your friend sympathetically, knowing that feeling all too well.

"I'm sure you'll know the one when she comes along, Steve." You reassure, placing your hand on his knee as he lets out a dry laugh.

"I did." He mutters, taking the last sip from the bottle as you stare at him.

"What do you mean you did?" You question, tilting your head as his eyes widen in panic. Shit. He didn't mean for you to hear that, didn't mean to say it out loud. Had the two beers already gone to his fucking head?

"I– I just meant..." He pauses for a moment to look at you, really look at you as he thinks about what to say next. How does he get himself out of this? Should he just tell you the truth? Was now the right time to say it? Was being here alone with you a sign that he should just come out and tell you how he feels? Was it worth taking that risk?

"You're talking about Nancy, right?" You frown, releasing a heavy sigh as he contemplates how to respond. His stomach is sick that you think he still cares for Nancy in that way, he hasn't given her a second thought since you came along and took his breath away but maybe it was better for you to think that instead of him ruining his friendship with you, instead of ruining his friendship with Eddie. Because after all, he'd rather have you in his life as a friend than not have you in it at all. That would truly kill him.

"Yeah, I...I'm talking about Nancy." He lies and your heart sinks all over again.

Of course he's talking about Nancy. Robin had told you all about the girl Steve had been in love with for years during your first shift alone with her at Family Video. How she was the only girl he'd ever loved, how he'd changed his ways for her in High School and how he still wanted a whole brood of mini Harrington's with her even though she’d broken his heart. When you eventually did meet Nancy though, you fully understood what he saw in her. She was beautiful, smart and perfect, everything a guy like Steve Harrington could ever want.

Everything you felt you weren’t.

“Steve, if it’s Nancy you really want, maybe it’s time to just be honest with her?” You suggest, trying to stop yourself from falling to pieces in front of him.

Steve finally lifts his head to lock eyes with yours, your words starting to replay in his mind “maybe it’s time to just be honest with her.”

“How can I tell her how I feel when she’s with somebody else?” He asks, his stomach in knots, his insides twisting as he watches you chew on your bottom lip.

“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel the same way about you, maybe she’s just really good at hiding it.” You shrug defeated, as he tries to read your face for an answer to a question that’s kept him up late at night. Could it be possible that you have feelings for him too? That you’ve been just as good at hiding them as he has? Maybe even better?

“You…you think she could feel the same way about me?” He asks, finally sitting up, turning towards you fully.

“I guess there’s really only one way to find out.” You reply, forcing a smile, hoping you don’t look too devastated as you stand up to collect the empty bottles from the coffee table. Needing to remove yourself from this conversation fast.

Just as you reach out to grab the first one, you feel Steve’s warm hand softly wrap around yours, holding you in place as he stares at you petrified.

“Steve, what—”

“It’s not Nancy.” He interrupts, a total look of despair on his face as he takes a deep breath. You’re eyeing him in utter confusion as you take a seat beside him again.

“What do you mean it’s not Nancy? I don’t under—”

“I’m in love with you.” He finally confesses, the words falling from his mouth too fast for him to catch, to hold back and bury deep beneath the surface again and for the first time in months he feels like he can finally breathe again. Unfortunately for Steve, the relief only lasts a couple of seconds as panic sets in and he realises that he's just confessed to loving his best friend's girlfriend.

He’s too afraid to look at your face, terrified of what your reaction will be, so instead, he keeps his eyes glued to the floor, ashamed of himself for putting you in this predicament. He's completely fucked everything up.

“I'm sorry, please don't hate me. The last thing I intended to do tonight was tell you that I love you. Fuck, I didn't even think you'd be here, you weren't supposed to be here! I've just been trying to stay away from you hoping that these stupid feelings would just go away you know? But it's been so hard and I missed you and then I show up here looking for Eddie but then I see you after so long and I just couldn't keep it in any longer, it's been killing me for months." Steve rambles, placing his hands over his face as you sit frozen in silence.

"I think it's probably for the best if I go." He says, standing up to leave you alone, grabbing his keys from the countertop.

"So you just drop a bomb on me like that and think you just get to walk away?" You say, finally finding your voice, rising to your feet.

"I just thought maybe you'd want some space or maybe you'd never want to see me again." Steve shrugs. noticing the utter shock on your face.

"We live in Hawkins Steve, we have the same friends. I don't think never seeing each other again is a realistic option." You state, trying to take everything in. Steve lets out a sigh of relief, happy you haven't immediately jumped to cutting him out of your life yet.

"You said it's been killing you for months, how long is that exactly?" You question, suddenly finding it very hard to breathe. It's an easy answer for Steve as he knows the very moment he fell in love with you.

“Do you remember the day that really nice old man came into the store looking for a copy of Casablanca?" He asks as you nod your head, recalling it instantly. It's something you'd never forget.

The man had come in on an unusually rainy day in the hopes of renting the movie he and his wife had watched together every year on the day of their wedding anniversary. He told you both of his wife's recent passing after a lengthy battle with an illness and how he had decided to bury their copy of the movie with her, so she could still watch it with him wherever she was.

"You took him for coffee on your lunch break that day knowing he was all alone while I looked for the movie in the back. You let him cry and talk about his wife even though you didn't know her. You gave him the time of day that no one else would have and when I found the movie, you told him to keep it and you took a twenty from your own purse to cover the cost. You told him you hoped one day you'd know a love like theirs and I remember thinking... fuck I'm so in love with that girl." Steve smiles, eyes glassy as you too have to wipe away the tears that had fallen down your cheeks.

"He still comes in you know? Asks about you all the time, wonders if I ever made a move. Called me a dumbass when I told him I missed my chance." He jokes, trying to make you smile but somehow the whole thing makes you angry.

"If you felt that way about me then, why didn't you tell me? That was months before I was even with Eddie, Steve!" You challenge, folding your arms as Steve runs a hand through his hair.

"I don't know, the timing just never seemed to be right."

"Oh please, we only worked together almost every day for over a year, we hung out almost every single night." You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"Well yeah but we were never really alone together. There was always someone else around, Keith, Robin, the kids, Eddie..."

"Come on Steve, those are bullshit excuses and you know it!" You argue as he shakes his head.

"It's not like it matters anyway, I mean, it's not like you felt the same way or anything!" He fights back as you stand silent, hand over your mouth, eyes on the floor.

That's when the penny finally drops for Steve.

"Shit, you did feel the same didn't you? You had feelings for me?" He questions softly as you wrap your arms around yourself, nodding a yes. He's been so blind, so stupid. How didn't he see this? How did you hide it so well?

"It's hardly that shocking, is it? I mean you're Steve Harrington, girls have been falling in love with you your whole life." You joke as Steve remains silent. "I didn't want to like you. Christ, when I started working at Family Video I expected to hate you but you weren't what I thought you'd be. You were funny and kind and caring and god, I saw how those kids worshipped you. It was only a matter of time really." You admitted. " There were times that I thought, 'maybe he likes me too' you know? But then Robin told me all about Nancy, how much you loved her, how you'd changed for her and I thought it was game over for me. She was just so perfect, I mean, how could I ever compete with someone like her?"

"There would never have been a contest, it would have been you every single time." Steve whispers, wanting to reach out for you.

"That's why you left Family Video isn't it? Cause you thought I still loved Nancy?" He asks as you nod again.

"I had to try to get over you."

"Did it work?"

"It doesn't matter Steve." You brush off the question, trying to walk away but he catches your hand gently.

"It matters to me."

"I'm with Eddie now. How I feel about you isn't going to change that." You state as Steve heavily accepts your words, however crushing they might be. He would always respect your decision, caring too much about you and Eddie to deliberately ruin your relationship.

"But if you weren't, and I had asked you out back then, would we be together now?" He asks, wiping the tears from your face. You already know the answer in your heart and you know Steve does too.

"Yeah, I think we would be. I know we would be." You assert as a single tear falls down his cheek. "But I can't do that to Eddie, I can't leave him."

"And I would never ask you to, honey. Fuck, I really messed this up." He sniffs as you shake your head. "We both did, Steve." You cry as he holds you close for several minutes.

"I better get going, I'm sure Munson will be home soon." He sighs, reluctantly letting you go, wishing he could keep you in his arms forever. He once again grabs his keys and heads for the front door as you follow close behind.

"Steve?"

"Hmm?"

"I do by the way, I do still love–" He cuts you off, pressing his lips lightly to yours for a brief moment before pulling away when he feels you kiss back, knowing if he'd waited a second longer, Eddie would arrive home to his best friend making love to his girlfriend.

"Please don't say it." Steve begs closing his eyes. "I'm trying to do the right thing here and walk away, if I hear you say that, I don't think I'll be able to leave without you." He whispers as you cup his face.

"Then you better go now because if you kiss me again, I don't think i'll have the strength to stop myself from going with you." You cry as he nods, exiting the trailer, walking back to his car, giving you one last look as he opens the BMW door. He smiles at you through glassy eyes, both of your hearts breaking as you wonder what could have been. Where does your friendship go from here? How are you supposed to forget about this night? How do you pretend that you aren't utterly and completely in love with each other?

"Goodnight honey."

"Goodnight Steve."

[annwrites]

how the hell are we going to get through this, baby?

— pairing: gale cleven x wife!reader x john egan

— type: one-shot (for the moment being, at least)

— summary: you, gale, & john are in a polygamous marriage & you share one last dance with them before they're shipped off to war.

— word count: 2,251

John takes a sip of his beer, then looks at you, or, rather, the back of your head. Your beautiful head of hair, soft and loose. He dreads the idea of tonight being the last time he'll ever touch it—you. His girl, his sweetheart, his wife, his goddamn everything since you were five-years-old, and he and Gale six.

He smiles when you throw your head back, laughing at whatever joke your friend, Marie, has just told you.

"How the hell are we supposed to leave her here all alone like this?" John asks.

Gale turns his head in your direction, leaning back against the bar, forearms braced on either side of him. "We don't have another choice."

John shakes his head. "She's going to fall apart when we leave. She won't be able to properly look after herself once we—"

Gale interrupts him, his head turning in his direction. "She's not some China doll, John."

"She's fragile. And too damn gentle. Since we were kids, there's barely been a day where she's had to live without us. The hell do you think she'll do if one of us—or even worse, both of us—come home to her in a casket?"

A muscle in Gale's jaw feathers, and he takes another drink of his beer. "It's why I married her, John. To make sure she got my pension incase—"

"Some monthly check isn't going to fucking hold her at night, or—"

Gale turns himself back around, not wanting the entire room to witness the argument that's about to erupt between the two of them.

One last good night, that's all he'd asked for. And yet, John's stubborn ass can never be bothered to just go along with things.

"What the hell would you have me do, Bucky?"

John turns back around to the bar as well, resting his forearms atop it. "We should've never enlisted."

Gale's long fuse suddenly grows a great deal shorter then. "It's not like it was some spur-of-the-moment decision. We talked about it, all three of us. We decided it was the right thing to do. She gave us her blessing."

John lets out a chuckle with no humor behind it. "Because you think she'd ever tell you no?"

Gale leans in toward him then. "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Everything she does is in hopes of pleasing you. And you have her wrapped right around your finger, don't you? That's why it's your ring that she's wearing." His tone has turned resentful.

"She's wearing yours, too. I'm sorry that polygamy isn't legal in the US. Why are you making everything my fault?"

He wasn't going to admit it out loud, but it hurt. His best friend, a man he shared a home, a life, a marriage, and a woman with treating him so lowly. And on their last night here—at home—at that. You were one half of him, John the other. But this disdain—believing you have a favorite between the two of them—wasn't a new development.

Finally, John sighs, softening. "I'm sorry. I'm just scared shitless. For both of us... For her."

They're both quiet for a moment, then John speaks again. "We should've tried to get her pregnant, and not stopped until she was."

Gale lets out a low swear. "You think that'd really help her? We get her pregnant so she can go through nine months of maternity all alone, neither of us there to hold her hand, or take care of her. And what if something happened? What if she miscarried, or—"

"Jesus Christ, why do you have to jump to the worst possible conclusion? She's too damn maternal not to be a mother, Gale."

"I'm not saying she isn't. But now isn't the right time. If you think losing one of us would tear her apart, losing a baby—our baby—would kill her."

John goes silent then. Before he glances back to you. "I just wanted to leave her with something. Some part of us to get her through this so she wouldn't be all alone."

Gale places his hand firmly on his best friend's shoulder. "She won't be alone. She has our folks."

He briefly wonders if this is really about leaving you with some part of them, or John leaving a piece of himself in the world if he doesn't live through this war.

He doesn't dare ask.

Finally, John stands, draining the last drops of his beer before walking over to his new bride.

Their bride.

You and Marie both look up at him as he comes to stand in front of you. "What's a guy got to do to get a pretty girl to dance with him around here, huh?"

You beam at him and it makes his heart jump.

"You just have to ask."

He pretends to balk. "That's it?"

You continue looking up at him, cheeks flushed, doe-eyes full of love and adoration.

He bends forward then, toward you, as he extends his right hand. "Well, then, miss, would you do the honor of giving this soldier one last dance?"

Marie sits by, watching with idle curiosity at your exchange.

You place your delicate hand in his own—your right one, which wears his ring—before standing.

John leads you over, into the middle of the room and spins you out before pulling you in close to him, until your chests are touching.

He places his right hand firmly against the small of your back as your left comes to rest upon his shoulder. He holds your other at chest-level as you begin to dance.

John presses his right cheek against your hair, closing his eyes for a moment. "How the hell are we going to get through this, baby?"

Tears sting your eyes, but you force it down. You won't cry. Not tonight. Not here, at least. You want this evening to be perfect.

You pull back far enough to look him in the eyes, running your fingers through his hair. "I wish I knew the answer."

You glance behind him, at Gale, who's watching you both with a small smile on his face.

You then continue. "This—all of it—both of you going off to war, having no idea how long that will be, what it will be like, all of us being apart for more than a couple of days for the first time in well over a decade... Not knowing...not knowing what the future holds..."

You trail off and have to take a moment to calm yourself before you turn into a shaking, sobbing mess.

John simply presses a firm kiss to your forehead, allowing you a moment to breathe.

Your eyes meet again and he picks up where you left off, looking down at you, his eyes full of surety. "We're going to get through this, sweetheart. We're going to get through this war, come back home to you, and then our lives together truly begin."

You desperately wish you had his optimism. In truth, you hope desperately that he's right, but more and more lately, you were doing your utmost to make yourself understand that their mutual survival...it may not come to pass. And that thought makes you feel sick.

If you lost both of them, you wouldn't bother trying to go on another day. They'd both made you swear and swear that you wouldn't even consider such a thing. And you had lied magnificently. Told each of them exactly what they wanted to hear. But you knew the truth of it in your heart.

John has his lips pressed to yours, kissing you long and deep, when a relaxed baritone voice interrupts you.

"Mind if I cut in?"

John finishes your kiss slowly, gently, before looking at Gale, who stands but a few inches from the two of you, hands in his pockets, looking at the two of you with so much love and warmth.

John chuckles, eye sparkling. "Trying to steal my girl, Cleven?"

Gale shrugs, a sly grin coming across his face. "Every chance I get, Egan."

John presses one last quick kiss to your hair, before stepping aside, whispering something into Gale's ear, which causes him to laugh out loud, then head back up to the bar.

Once Gale has taken John's place, you look up to him, an amused look on your face. "What was that about?"

Gale shakes his head, looking back at the man in question, a toothy grin on his face. "Nothin', darlin'."

He looks down at you, then.

"Was it about me?" You ask with a raised brow.

He chuckles. "Wouldn't you like to know."

You 'accidentally' step on one of his feet, causing him only to smirk down at you.

You bat your eyes at him. "Oops."

He gives a small nod of his head. "Starting to think that John's pickin' on you for all those years when we were kids is starting to rub off."

You grin, shaking your head.

He then leans in toward you to claim a kiss.

You try to sear the feeling of his lips against your into your memory. How slowly and passionately he kisses you, the taste of him, how he flicks the tip of his tongue against your lips, asking for entry, which you quickly give him.

When he pulls away, your cheeks are flushed and lips swollen. You lie your cheek against his chest and he rests his chin atop your head.

You still when you notice two officers at the front of the room, looking at the two of you, chatting with each other, shocked and confused looks on their faces.

You look up at Gale and he reaches down, brushing a loose strand from your face.

"Those men are staring at us."

He shrugs, not even bothering with asking 'whom', before he replies "let 'em watch".

"You might be serving alongside them."

He gives you another kiss. "And?"

You sigh. "You know your fellow soldiers are going to talk about their girls, then ask about yours. About John's. What're you going to tell them?"

He's looking at you with mild amusement, like you should somehow already know the answer. "The truth, I guess."

You're surprised by his answer.

The two of them seemed to stop caring a long time ago about what others do, or even might think about them. You still find it difficult to at times. You want to reach the same level of surety about your marriage—it still feels so strange to even think about it as that now—that they both have.

"Oh."

He cups your cheek in his palm. "The only two people whose opinions I care about are yours and John's. Nobody else gets to have one, not when it comes to us." He brushes the pad of his thumb along your lower lip. "Alright?"

You nod.

He kisses you once more before you lie your head back against his chest, this time facing in John's direction.

"Promise me you'll both take care of each other. That you won't let any stupid fights or squabbles get between you."

He replies almost instantly. "With our lives, honey. You know that. Won't be time for fighting each other when we'll have enemies on all sides that we'll be doing that with."

You nod. "Are you scared?"

He's silent for a moment, and that silence alone gives you your answer.

"Think I'd be stupid not to be. I know a lot of these boys are hoping to go off to Europe and become heroes, not wanting to acknowledge that they may not make it back in one piece, if at all. I'm just trying to keep my head out of the clouds and my expectations reasonable."

He begins rubbing one of his palms soothingly against your back.

"And John?"

"We haven't spoken much about it."

Because they're both scared, you think. They both put up such brave faces in front of you—for you—but you can read each of them like the back of your hand.

You suddenly feel a second body pressing itself against your back, strong arms wrapping around you, and your eyes flutter closed as you smile softly, happily, as the two of them hold you between them.

You will this night to last—both your husbands holding you, loving you, making you feel utterly safe and secure—because the thought of coming back home to an empty house tomorrow once they've both gone...

You squeeze your eyes more tightly shut, fighting back tears.

You're grateful they'll have each other, but who will you have to lean on? Who will hold you when you wake up in a cold sweat, crying and trembling as you fear the worst? Who will reassure you, as you sit on the front porch, or by the window, waiting for the post—for any word from them—that everything is okay? That they are?

What will you have left if, when they return home, it's with flags draped over coffins?

"I love you," John whispers, breaking you from fearful thoughts of the absolute worst.

Gale leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "We both do."

You don't see as their eyes meet, John's jaw flexing as he attempts to conserve his tears for when you won't be witness to them and Gale giving him a reassuring nod, telling him that it's okay to feel whatever he's feeling.

"I love you, too. Both of you. Just...come back to me."

"We will," they both reply in unison.

You all three pray for it to be true.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Do you think the kidnapping was the last straw for age gap!reader and that’s why she decided to become a housewife??

Not quite.

When you did faint, for real instead of pretending, Clark is not surprised. Your heart had started racing again and you were trying very hard to stay composed and sweet.

He was just glad he was there to catch you and keep you from cracking your head on the pavement when the rookie cop closest to you was too busy being start struck to realize you were about to collapse. EMT's were called and you were taken by ambulance to the nearest hospital.

He only hoped Bruce had a plan. And a damn good one. Because, as he looked at the sad little cell the would be kidnapper planned to keep you in his stomach turned. If it hadn't been for the tracker to put in your sneaker, they might never have been able to find you.

__________________

"Sweetheart," Bruce said, rushing into the room, "My god, I'm so sorry! I came as soon as I got your call."

The nurse taking your vitals again glanced up and sighed internally. She'd HAVE to tell the desk to pay attention. Your Agent, some co stars, managers- jesus a parade of people had traipsed through this room. Even a particularly intrepid tabloid journalist. But- At least this was one visitor that you didn't seem to mind.

"I'm okay, I think," you tell him. "I- nothing really had time to happen. I just have some bruises and a concussion."

"Do you need anything?" he asked, crossing the floor, smiling briefly at the nurse before kissing your forehead. "Are they keeping you or-"

"The doctor is just waiting on some x-rays," the nurse told you when you looked at her questioningly. "Once we have all our tests back you should be good to go."

"Thank you, Nancy," you tell her, "Could I have some more water when you get a second?"

"Absolutely," she answered. Mollified somewhat when Bruce set himself to fussing over you in that endearing, clueless way that men had. Uselessly fluffing pillows and petting your hair.

"What were they x-raying?" Bruce asked, perching on the end of your bed. Between you and the door.

"My abdomen. I had stomach pain and they wanted to make sure I wasn't bleeding or something- I don't know if it was a knee of a foot but-"

"I should have hit him harder," Bruce growled.

"Bruce-"

"I'm taking you back to Gotham tonight," he murmured. "And Alfred is working on your security as we speak."

You blink for a second and bite your lip, "I have work and contracts-"

"Not to stay," Bruce hummed. "But I pointed out that you would need a couple days of rest to recover. And pointed out that making you work would be "a bad look" once the story broke. They agreed. And decided to shoot things you weren't in for a couple days."

You look at him confused and Bruce smiles a little, "I'm having the security revamped in your Apartment while you're with me. And being a little selfish- I missed you."

"Brucie, you don't have to do all that."

"I do though," he murmured. "It scared me, that phone call. And I don't like being scared."

_______________________

That night, in his bed. Finally feeling safe enough to let go, you let Bruce take you. It was tender and sweet- even while both of you were desperate.

Cleaving to each other for comfort. Craving the sense of belonging that you felt joined together. No secrets, no lies, only met desires and realized longings.

Bruce smudged soft kisses on every bruise and nuzzled every sore spot. Lavishing attention on your sore stomach. Careful to read your body language. If you pulled away, he would stop. But you clung onto him. Worldless pleading. Telling him. Don't leave me.

"I'm here, Princess," he breathed. "are you okay?"

You nod and lean up to kiss him, "How do you do it?"

"Do what, beautiful?" he hummed, sliding his cock along your entrance before sliding inside you.

"Make me feel so safe, all the time."

"Is that how you feel now, sweet girl?" he hummed, "Safe? Loved?"

You nod, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer to you.

He smiled and rubbed his nose against yours as he bracketed himself above you, "Marry me?" he blurted, "Let me make you feel that way forever."

"You- Bruce- I-"

"I mean it," he breathed. "Marry me? Let me keep you safe, Sweetheart. Make me the happiest I've ever been?"

"How could I say no to that?" you ask, stroking his cheek as you kissed him.

[bambi-slxt]

Could you write something with Matt or Chris (or both!) and a chubby/not petite reader? I don't see a lot of those and would really appreciate it!

Doesn't have to be smut, it can be more in the style of your non-binary post or love languages. Thank you!

oh honey. of course i can.

chubby!reader:

✨a concept✨

a/n: i'm not petite and i never have been. this post is not intended to cause body dysmorphia to those who are, but rather promote and uplift those who have more fat on them than what's normally represented in the fanfiction space. i hope you enjoy this one anon!

doing their makeup at a sleep over -

chris: "yeah, come on, sit on my lap. no, seriously. i don't mind. come here, mamas." *kisses* "there we go. now put this shit on my face before i change my mind."

matt: "you were saying something about hooded lids? yeah, i don't think i have those. what do you mean people have different eyelid shapes. what the fuck. you have to look up different- jesus christ i'm glad i don't fuck with this stuff."

watching a scary movie -

chris: "i never shoulda' agreed to this. what spell do you have me under? i hate you. no like actually." *holding your hand for dear life and also shaking like a chihuahua*

matt: "-genuinely fucking terrifying. what? why do I have to be the one who tells you when it's over? i don't wanna look either!" *long-suffering sigh*

swimming -

chris: "i don't want you to look like a model, i want you to look like you. you look real, and you feel real...when i look at my girl all i see is how beautiful you are. no, i'm being serious. especially wearin' the stuff i bought you."

matt: "it's just us, darlin'. i've seen all of you before. i know what you look like, and i love you because of it. get in the water so we can play mermaids."

clothes shopping -

chris: "what the Actual Fuck are these designs. this is the plus size section? what a waste of space? i'll make you better clothes. yeah, i'm serious. you like my brand better anyway. jesus christ, i'm sorry."

matt: "...is this really what you want to wear? no? okay so let's leave. yeah, this isn't your style at all. i don't care, i'll shop with you all fucking week if that's what it takes. you're not gonna settle on this shit if it's not what you want."

going to the gym -

chris: "come on, you got it. i know it hurts but you're almost done, come on. don't you dare stop, there we go...there we go, you're good, you're good, get some water...that was a new PR baby, i'm so fucking proud of you. hell yeah, you did so good...damn i don't even think i can get that...fuck you..."

matt: "why the fuck would we go to the gym when the bed is right there? absolutely not. we can work out in my bed-"

streaming together -

chris: "no we're playing fortnite, get on here. i don't care. we've played fallout all week i wanna play duos, pleasepleaseplease-thankssss. yeah we can hop on stream. nah, they love you. trust. you wanna get ready first? i think you look great, but it's up to you, mamas. i want you to be confident, you know that."

matt: "if they have something to say i'll just rip 'em a new one and kiss you on stream. yeah. no i'm dead serious. there's my girl. come on, let's play."

boyfriend hoodies -

chris: "course it fits. i got bigger ones for me so you could steal them. you're such a thief. i love you. what? i didn't say anything..."

matt: "i'm gonna freeze. no no, take it, take my only source of warmth. i'm not bitter. come here lemme cuddle you i'm fucking cold."

a/n: hope you like this nonnie!

request to be on the taglist under this post right here, make sure your mentions are on!

tags: @selenascorner @pinksturniolo @malirosee @st7rnioioss @nonat-111 @cindylcuwho @evie-sturns @h3arts4harry @fanficsbymia @dazednmatthews @sturniolo-rat @mattsmad @sturniolo04 @bellasturn @blahbel668 @yomamaslays4lyfe @stasiesturn @pleasantlycrazyworld @ariqolyx @wh0resstuff @krissy4gov @coochiedestroyer1 @madisturn @mattspolitank @sturnsxplr-25 @xtravrgnoliveoil @raysmayhem-72 @sturnpooks @certifiedstarrr @melanch0lybby @freshloveforthefit @xoxo4chrisss @stunza @meerkatzthings  @zivall @sturniolopepsi @that1fangirll @wh0schl0 @sharksworldd @mattscoquette @chrisslutx @sturnzsblog @sturniologals @quaxkingshs @certifiedstarrr @sarosfilms @mattsfavbigtitties @slutforsturniolos 

[ohisms]

↪     𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 , 𝑰'𝑴 𝑨 𝑭𝑬𝑾 - ᶰᵒ ᶠᵃᵐᶤˡʸ ˒ ᵗᵒᵒ . 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑎𝑚 𝑖 ?    (  a  series  of  sentence  starters  from  season  1  of  “ orphan black ” .   adjust  phrasing  as  necessary . will be updated !  )

i wanna see [ name ] .

well , that's not fair , is it ?!

oh my god , you look like crap .

i didn't miss your birthday , did i ?

something really weird just happened at the train station .

what the hell is wrong with you ?

listen to me , [ name ] , i'm only gonna ask you this once .

oh , i'm fine by the way , thank you .

get in the car .

when you don't give a damn , i get pissed .

you'd better be ready . are you ready ?

you're sure as hell overdressed . what , were you out all night or something ?

this shit is as hard as it gets . but you've gotta stop making it worse .

i panicked , what do you want me to say ?

i'm kidding . where's your wit gone ?

you don't have to babysit me , dipshit .

i know this thing's got you all twisted up , but try to forgive yourself .

[ name ] , open the goddamn door !

yeah , the last thing i am is special .

[ name ] , where have you been ?

where have i been ? uh .. long story .

oh , jesus , are you alright ?

you have a few words , [ name ] ? anything you want to express ?

plead your mercy & your pity .

love is imperfection itself .

say it . go ahead , say it's my fault .

who the hell are you ?

of course not . you think we'd let that happen ?

i'm at home , you've got it all wrong .

you know what ? don't . i'm going to ignore that .

i'm worried you're losing the plot again .

sorry , i've got ... i've got a lot of work to do .

i mean , what am i supposed to do ?

you don't have to take this on .

i can't keep waking up every night , checking your breathing , worried you're mixing your meds , booze ... god knows what else .

i knew it was too good to be true .

why would you help such a stupid plan ?

i'm not going to play [ name ] in the middle .

i'm not dirty , i just freaked out .

if there is another version of this story ...

walk me through it again . so i know you won't crack under questioning .

you're making me nervous .

finally ! where have you been ?

who am i speaking to ?

how did you find me ?

idiot . do you even know who you're talking to ?

i don't care who you are .

nope , that is not my responsibility .

go , & wait for a call .

what i'm trying to do is move on .

we have known each other for awhile now , [ name ] .

i nailed it , man . every detail .

come on , [ name ] , give me a little love here !

you know , my skin just breaks out every time i leave downtown .

whoa , hey , [ name ] - you always do this to me !

i don't do backup , i don't even know what backup is !

i got stuck , i was running from my own shit .

i'm not giving you shit 'til you give me some answers .

don't ! do not shoot me , please !

seriously , it's life or death .

am i going insane ?

[annafoxxx7]

Oops...

[Josh Futturman x Female Reader]

POV: You and Josh are bffs, but a seemingly normal visit to his house takes an unexpected turn...

Warnings: Masturbation, pnv, mommy kink (????), idk just like pure smut (plus Josh being a needy, whimpering bottom 😜) ((sorry guys I had writers block so this is like the worst thing I’ve ever written))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Josh have been friends for years. Your houses are next door to each other so you hang out every day. One of you will walk over to the others house after school and spend the rest of the evening there. Even on weekends you'd hang out all day. So your decision to walk over this one Saturday wasn't out of the ordinary.

You show up to his house and let yourself in with the copy of his key that he gave you. You call out his name, only he doesn't respond. He was supposed to be home alone all day. Suddenly, you hear a strange noise coming from his room.

He must be playing a video game or something. You whisper to yourself, walking towards his bedroom

As you lean into his room you see that his eyes are closed. His hand is moving fast, his pants are at his ankles.

“Fuck... y/n-” He moaned.

You froze. Was he thinking about... you????

Holy fuck. Shit... SHIT!

You start to back out of the doorway and try not to make any noise, but end up bumping into the door. He looks up at you in shock.

“Y/n… Jesus… I thought you had plans today what are you doing here… God damn… Did you have to barge in here like this?” Josh grumbles, covering himself.

"Well... I had my key copy and I just thought I'd come say hi. I'm so sorry I-"

"Let me know next time don't just-"

Just say it just say it just say it

"Do you want me to help you? You know... finish?"

Josh’s jaw dropped. “You… Are you for real?”

You had been friends for so long, but there had always been something there. Some kind of unspoken tension pulling you together.

"Yeah... if you want"

He swallowed his pride. “I mean… yeah- yes, please.”

You walk over to him pulling off your jeans and leaving them on the floor, your shirt is next. You straddle him on his chair and he quickly removes your bra, massaging your bare breasts. He kisses your chest and neck. He keeps looking up into your eyes, like he's pleading without saying a word.

The only thing separating your heat from him is the thin layer of your underwear. You grind on his lap, making him moan.

"Please... fuck. Just let me... inside," he whimpers.

"Ok, ok."

You take off your underwear throwing them on the floor and slowly lower yourself down onto his throbbing cock. You both moan as he sinks into you. He begins to thrust into you helplessly, hitting your g-spot with ease. Your clit rubbing against his pelvis as you ride him. It doesn't take long before he's a whimpering mess underneath you.

"Fuck... mommy. Please-"

Woah. You had been called mommy before a few times but this was different. Hearing him say it so helplessly felt different. It felt great. HE felt great. Who would have thought Josh of all people would make you feel so good?

"You're doing so good, baby, keep going. Almost there."

He pushes into you with ease, your bodies fitting together like a puzzle. His big dick pushing up into your cervix as he grabs your waist to keep you steady.

He whimpers and moans, so close to finishing. All it takes a few more sloppy thrusts to put you both over the edge. You clench around him and he twitches inside of you. His cum spilling out of you as you ride out your climaxes.

Breathlessly, Josh says, "Shit... well that was unexpected. I guess now we have to have a whole 'what are we' talk and try not to ruin our friendship and stuff so you know, thanks for that."

You smirk at him. "Oops"

[kayhi808]

Neighbors - Alpine

Masterlist

Bucky hates that you walk home alone after your set at the Flatiron Room, so he's been meeting you after work so you both can grab dinner & head home together. Arriving a little early, Bucky turns down the side alley, making his way to the employee entrance/exit. There's more trash than normal in the alley. Shaking his head, he nudges some of the crates & boxes to the side with his foot.

The last box he shoves emits a high pitch "meow" and Bucky freezes. No. He doesn't see any movement from the box, maybe he imagined it. He goes to lean up against the wall opposite the door. The door opens, but it not you. Your co-workers walk down the alley and as they pass the box, he hears another loud "meow".

Walking over to the box he lifts one of the top flaps and there's a kitten. "Damn it." Bucky squats down & there a dirty white cat meowing. "Hey, buddy." The kitten stretches up the side of the box, meowing. "It's ok. I got you." He reaches in to take the kitten out & it start to shriek & hiss. "Whoa! Hold on." He takes away his hand not wanting to scare the ball of fluff. This gets repeated twice. "Look, you're going to need to cooperate here."

"What are you doing??" You walk out to see your boyfriend hunched over a dirty box in the alley.

"Oh, hey Doll!" Frowning, he stands and gives you a quick kiss. He points to the box. "I got me a pet."

"Oh, Bucky!"

"His name is Alpine...Al." The tiny kitten meows pitifully so you try to pick him up and he immediately goes into hiss-mode. "Jesus."

"I know! It's like, 'you want to get out or not?". You remove the scarf from around your neck and hand it to Bucky. "Use this."

Bucky drops your scarf over the kitten & takes it out of the box. He's making so much noise. "Shhhh. You're safe, Al. I got you." After Bucky's coo-ing, the kitten is still screaming. "I'm saving you, dummy."

You hit Bucky's arm, "Don't call him a dummy! He's just scared." You pout and try to uncover his head, so he can at least see what's going on. Once his head is free from the scarf, he quiets & gives you both a silent meow that melts your heart. You go to scratch his head & he wiggles and hisses. Bucky laughs as you jerk your hand back. "See, dummy." And yet Bucky still brings him closer to his chest, to try & keep him warm.

******

The kitten stayed silent on the walk home as long as you both didn't touch it. Dirty little face taking in all the sights of the big city while nestled up against Bucky's chest.

You make a quick stop at the corner store to see if they got anything for kittens, which wasn't much. You got cat litter but all they had was adult cat food. It's better than nothing. Bucky can go shopping tomorrow.

Letting yourselves into Bucky's apartment, "He's probably starving."

"I got some chicken in the fridge." You head towards the kitchen to dice up some leftover rotisserie chicken. You heat that up and go to find Bucky.

He's in the living room setting up a box for his new friend. "We got a problem."

"What's wrong!?"

He lifts Alpine up to show you despite the angry hissing. "Al is a girl!"

You laugh, "That's not a problem."

Putting her down so she can investigate the chicken. "I already thought of him...her as a boy. He's my buddy."

"Well...she can still be your buddy. What? Do you want to get rid of her now?"

"No!!"

"Okay then."

You both sit on the floor and watch her gobble up her food. Bucky is able to pet her head because she's so distracted by her food. She can't bother with hissing. Once Alpine is done eating Bucky gives her a bath which didn't go at all well. You're in the kitchen putting sandwiches together for dinner but you hear her high pitch meowing. Bucky's cajoling only makes her scream louder.

He finally brings her out, "She was filthy." He puts Alpine on the floor and she is pristine white.

"She's so cute! Look at your daughter." He sits down with you to eat as he lets Alpine explore.

"Sorry about tonight."

"Don't be! I can't believe how cute she is. She was so dirty." You watch her wander around the living room like she owns the place.

"Am I doing the right thing in keeping her?" Bucky's eyes follow her around the room and you know he's a goner. No way is he giving up this kitten.

"Was she better off in the alley?"

"I could drop her off at the animal shelter tomorrow. I'm sure a family would adopt her." You already see the pain in his eyes just thinking of giving her up. At that moment Alpine walk up to Bucky's feet and taps it with her paw and meows at him. "Hey Al, what's up? She meows again & when he just smiles at her, she starts making biscuits to his socks. You both look at each other with silent gasps.

"She's not going anywhere," you laugh.

Alpine gives a big yawn and a last meow, before Bucky reaches down to pick her up. Not a hiss or a scream is heard. He cradles the kitten in the crook of his arm and she starts to purr and falls asleep.

"I'm going to head home. I'll let you bond with your baby," you tease, dropping a kiss to his lips, "Congratulations, Nerd. I'll see you tomorrow."

Laughs, "G'night, Doll."

"Sleep tight, Alpine," you give her a couple scratches before you head next door.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Whatever the future may hold

Written for the May pop-up challenge of the @steddieholidaydrabbles

Prompt: Graduation

Rated: M

Tags: Omegaverse; omega!Eddie; alpha!Steve; pregnancy; mentions of sex

Notes: Set in the same universe as Whatever you want it to be

Eddie turns the square cap in his hands, feeling utterly and supremely sorry for himself. He's been imagining this day for so long. Snatching that diploma from Higgins's unwilling hands and prancing off that stage into a brighter, better future.

Only now, that future fills him with nothing but dread.

He groans, burying his face in his arms.

It was all going so well.

A while ago, when Carver and his possee found out about his little omegan secret, he thought his life was over.

Except Steve Harrington swooped in like a white, baseball bat wielding knight and saved him, and took him home, and cared for him. Knotted him near damn stupid, too, not that Eddie is complaining.

They've since commenced what must be the weirdest courtship in the history of courtship - stolen glances and subtle gifts and furtive dates at Steve's house or Eddie’s trailer. Eddie has kept his secret safe, and Steve is its biggest protector.

It's perfect. Everything Eddie never knew he wanted.

So of course it couldn't last.

“Eddie?”

Shit!

He must've been so far gone in his head he didn't hear the trailer door open, didn't catch the scent wafting into his bedroom. Pine needles and moss and sunlight.

“Stevie,” he croaks, and his stomach twists.

Footsteps approach. The doorknob rattles once, twice, before Steve realizes it's locked. His scent turns worried. Steve's worried about him. Eddie’s needy hindbrain whines at the thought.

“Eds, lemme in. Please?”

Eddie is unlocking the door before he even realizes he’s moved. Quickly, dread clawing at his guts, he retreats back onto his bed.

“Hey,” Steve ducks around the gown dangling from its hanger by the door. “Wayne called, said you wouldn’t come out of your room? Ceremony’s about to start, what are you- Eddie? What’s wrong?”

Because he has just spotted Eddie, back against the wall, arms wrapped around hunched knees, trembling hand still clasping the cap. Steve is in front of him in an instant, mattress dipping under his weight. His hands cup Eddie’s face, tilting his head up, and Eddie knows he should pull away, he really should. Still, he’s helpless to do anything but let himself sink into Steve’s comforting touch and scent.

“What’s going on?” Steve’s voice is a barely restrained growl. “Carver try shit again? You know you don’t have to worry-”

Eddie shakes his head. His stomach feels like it’s trying to crawl its way out of his throat. “It’s not Carver.”

Steve’s brow furrows.

“But then, what- … Are you sick?” He leans in, nosing the hollow of Eddie’s neck. “Your scent’s a bit off. Should I call a doctor, or-”

“Will you fucking leave it?” Eddie slaps Steve's hands away. The cap hits the mattress with a soft thud. “I'm not sick! Jesus!”

Steve's eyes are full of hurt confusion and worry. It makes Eddie want to laugh and cry and scream all at once.

“But I don't-” Steve stammers. “Why won't you-”

“Because I'm pregnant, okay?”

Steve's words screech to a halt. His eyes grow large, mouth forming a dumb little oh shape. It would be funny, Eddie thinks hysterically, if there was anything remotely funny about this entire clusterfuck of a situation.

“Wha-” Steve starts to say. Shuts his mouth. Opens it again. “I mean how- … I mean … are you sure?”

Like a line from some cliché soap opera. Eddie laughs weakly.

“Been puking my guts out all week. Took five tests, all positive. I'm pretty fucking sure, big boy.”

Silence seeps into the room. For a moment, Eddie thinks Steve's going to continue right on with the soap opera shit and ask when it happened. If it’s his. But Steve knows Eddie has never been with anyone else. Knows they've always been careful - except for that very first time.

Eddie screws his eyes shut and waits.

“Wow,” Steve breathes after an eternity. “That’s … that’s unbelievable.”

Eddie furrows his brow. Steve’s voice is brimming with incredulity, but also with something else. Something that, if Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d put close to … happiness? Hesitantly, he peeps one eye open.

He’s just in time to see Steve launch himself at him, and then he’s enveloped in a bone-crushing hug. Steve’s scent crests over him, heady and familiar.

“W-wait,” Eddie manages to mumble against the rapid staccato of Steve’s heartbeat. “You’re not mad?”

“Mad?” Steve pulls back just enough to look at him. His smile is so wide, Eddie’s afraid his face might be too small for it. “Why would I be mad? You know I want kids, loads of them!”

“Well yeah,” Eddie stammers. The room is spinning and all he can see is Steve’s smile. “But-”

“And you know I can’t imagine a better person to have them with than you.”

“Well …” Eddie can practically feel himself flush. “I guess.”

Steve leans in to kiss his forehead. “Then why are you so upset, dumbass?”

“Well, I dunno,” Eddie blurts, unable to keep the sarcastic undertone at bay. “Maybe cause I’m barely out of school? Or because we’re not even mated? Because your parents will go absolutely fucking-”

“Fuck my parents,” Steve declares. “This is about you and me. We’ll figure it out one step at a time. First, and most importantly: Do you want to have this kid with me?”

One large hand finds Eddie’s stomach, splaying itself over it, warm and safe. Eddie feels how something inside of him goes soft.

“Yes,” he whispers. “Yes, I’d love that.”

“Brilliant,” Steve beams, and kisses him. Eddie melts into it, but just as he’s about to lose himself in that summer forest scent, Steve pulls away. Eddie frowns as something is placed on his head - the stupid cap.

“And second,” Steve winks, giving his stomach one last gentle pat, “You gotta put on that gown and let me drive you to school. The two of you need to walk in half an hour.”

Poor Steve brought beer for the celebration. He'll need to drink it all by himself, whelp.

They're baaack, and they're having a baby!!! I said I'd write more of these two sooner rather than later, didn't I?

[chaotic-mystery]

Needy Baby | Joel Miller

Dbf! Joel Miller x f!reader

✰ 18+ ✰ MDNI ✰

To set the mood, here’s some songs:

❦ unholy - hey violet

❦tonight you are mine - the technicolors

❦ the summoning - sleep token

❦ the undertaker (don’t shoot the messenger version) - Puscifer

CW: oral (f receiving), swearing, age gap implied, talking you through it

“Did you find it, baby?” Joel asks as he pushes the door to your dads garage open.

A sigh leaves your lips with frustration, slamming a drawer to the tool box shut.

“No, Joel I didn’t and I don’t know why he sent me out here to find it when both of your asses could’ve found it faster.”

He leaves a few kisses against the back of your head as you’re searching another drawer, his hands giving your hips a soft squeeze.

“It’s okay, I'll look for it darlin’. Lose the attitude will ya?”

Your back was cold once again, missing his body heat immediately as he started looking on the other side of the garage.

“I'm sorry, I'm just frustrated. You look so good in that shirt, I haven’t seen you in a few days, and I can’t touch you or anything while you’re in the house with my dad. It’s driving me insane, I can hardly be around you in there.”

Your words sound so silly as they leave your lips, but it was the truth. He only responded with a light chuckle and that only made you feel even more stupid for saying what you did.

“Look it’s fine I’ll just go inside and tell him i didn’t fin-” you were turning around just as he pinned you in against the tool box, his lips crashing onto yours.

“You aren’t going anywhere until I take care of you, pretty girl. Why didn’t you just say you needed me?” He knelt down in front of you, dragging your jean shorts with him. 

“How long have you been this soaked for me baby doll?” he asks as he nips at your wet panties, tugging the fabric between his lips.

His hands come up to caress your ass, spanking it roughly as he groans into your clothed clit. “Since I heard your truck pull in the drive way and I instantly thought about you fucking me. Joel please don’t tease I’ve missed you a lot” breathlessly you say, getting more and more frustrated.

Cold metal touched your hip as you heard fabric being cut, and before you knew it your panties were gone. You looked down, his eyes locked with yours as he licked your sensitive clit slowly. Tossing your head back against the tool box, he shoved himself further into you. His fingers glided up and down your slick folds, a wet clicking sound filling your ears before he shoves a finger inside you.

“God damn you’re so needy for me aren’t you, angel. Listen to that pretty pussy just purring for me.”

Your moans were getting louder, your hands gripping his hair as you rock against his face.

“Joel, jesus christ you’re so fucking good to me. Keep going baby”

Palming your breasts with your free hand, you could feel you were close. You loved cumming on his face, seeing his beard glisten with your juices. His finger curled inside of you pumping faster as his tongue circled around your clit harder.

“Come for me baby doll, come all over my face. You’re such a needy girl when you don’t see me for a while. Show me who this pussy belongs to.”

 It felt like the world was ending all around you as you came hard. So hard that you couldn’t make a sound for the first few seconds of coming undone. Your body jolted forward, riding your high on his face. The vibrations from his moans kept you riding until you finally had enough and slowed to a stop. He stood up and kissed you roughly and your tongues shared your sweet juices he lapped up. Cupping your face gently, he pulled back and kissed your forehead.

“C'mon baby, put ya shorts back on, we’ve been out here long enough. Besides, I already found what we needed as soon as I walked in.”

He winked at you and bent down to grab your shorts off the floor. As you both collected yourself and walked back to the house, you let him go first so he could tell your dad another famous Joel lie.

“She walked right in front of it, man. I wanted to see how long it would take for her to see it” he joked with your dad and the three of you laughed, and suddenly you noticed your panties were sticking out of his back pocket.

Sneakily trying to hide the trophy he decided to keep, you asked your dad to grab you a water bottle from the fridge. The door was open long enough to shield your dads eyes, for you to push the cut fabric down in his pocket, and give him a squeeze on his ass. 

[retrotrait]

Ep 7 Previously

Katherine: I can't believe this towns best burgers are in a bowling alley

Jacob: You agree though, right? exceptional burger

Katherine: I'll rate it a 7 out of 10, you really need to go outside town more often

Jacob: Damn Katie, 7? you're still a hard nut to crack

Katherine: Hey! I just have standards and a 10-point burgers is hard to find

Jacob: Yeah, you really haven't changed. How long has it been? Jesus, I think almost 20 years

Katherine: Just you saying that makes me feel old

Jacob: Well, you look the same as when we were in UNI together

Katherine: Stop trying to be charming

Jacob: You make it really hard not to be

[Katherine becomes contemplative]

Jacob: sorry sorry, I don't know what I was thinking when I said that

Katherine: It's okay, I just think I forgot what it felt like to be flirted with

Jacob: How are you doing?

Katherine: Somedays are good, other's I just want to crawl under my bedsheets and never come out again

Jacob: I'm glad you're here Katie, it was a real surprise seeing you, I had no idea

Katherine: Oh gosh, me either! when I saw you it brought back so many memories

Jacob: Hopefully the good ones, I think I was a good boyfriend?

Katherine: You were my best boyfriend...well aside from Rick obviously but with you it was the hardest

Jacob: What? Why?

Katherine: Because half the girls in the school wanted you! Come on, you know this

Jacob: I only really had eyes for one girl

[Katherine smiles]

[phone buzzing]

Katherine: Sorry, that must be my daughter, one sec

[couple of minutes pass by]

Jacob: everything okay?

Katherine: Yeah, I didn't realize how late it got. You mind taking me back to my car?

Jacob: Of course

[motorcycle engine approaching]

Katherine: Thanks again for tonight

Jacob: Yeah, anytime, I had fun

[both say goodnight]

[reyadawn]

Foolish Games - Part 2

*image not mine, credit goes to owner*

Summary: Reader is a reporter who has been tracking Noah Sebastian, crime Lord and lead singer of Bad Omens. After getting kidnapped during a shoot out at the Red Door, she gets more than she bargained for and is sucked into the life of crime...and where falling in love can be even more dangerous.

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x OFC

Warnings: 🔞+, blood, violence, smut (kissing, hair pulling, unprotected sex, creampie)

Word Count: 🤷‍♀️😅 (it's a long chapter so buckle up)

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18

Enjoy! 😉❤️

Part 1 can be found HERE

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Noah slowly pulled his cock from my still overly stimulated pussy, our mixed juices sliding down my ass to soak the sheets below us. I was out of breath, chest heaving as I watched him slide back one of his closet doors and it took me by surprise a little that both of them were covered ceiling to floor with mirrors.

I watched as he yanked a solid black t-shirt and black joggers from hangers and quietly got dressed. I moved to cover my body with the sheet, sitting up to reach for a half empty bottle of water on the nightstand and stopped mid-reach when Noah shoved a revolver in the back waistband of his joggers.

He rounded on me, coming over to kneel in front of me as he placed both hands on the side of my face. Even in the dark, his eyes glittered with worry and determination.

"Stay here, pretty girl. No matter what you hear, stay here. This is one instance where you cannot and will not be glued to my side. I can't protect you if you don't follow my instruction, do you understand me? Do. Not. Move. From. Here", he said, voice hard.

"I can use a gun, Noah. I'm not incapacitated", I argued. Noah's grip on my head tightened slightly before steeling me with a look so irritated I would have laughed under different circumstances.

Another singular knock.

Noah released me to go to the bedroom door before quietly slipping out. I let loose the air from my lungs I didn't realize I was holding and scrambled to put my clothes back on, fishing my cell phone from the inside pocket of my blazer. I dialed my sister's number, ignoring the slew of missed calls and text messages, and it barely even rang before she picked up.

"WHERE IN THE FUCK ARE YOU?! ARE YOU OK?! WE'VE BEEN WORRIED FUCKING SICK! WHAT HAPPENED?!", Aubrey screamed, as I held the phone away, flinching.

"Aubs, calm down before you hyperventilate and have a stroke. Are they ok?", I half-whispered, referring to Bay and Tan.

"Yes, you dumb bitch, they're fine. A man named Jolly got them out of the lounge when bullets started flying and they came here to lay low but Jolly got grazed in the leg. Bay and Tan are trying thier best to patch him up. What the fuck happened, sis?", Aubrey explained, voice laced with worry.

"I went to Red Door to have a drink after work not knowing Bad Omens were there. Jolly manhandled me--", I began when I heard Bay and Tan laughing in the background. I shot the phone a scowl. "Look you damn hyena's".

"Sorry, bestie", Tan said, voice dripping with laughter.

"Wait, Bad Omens? I know you've been trying to interview Noah for months now but what were they doing there?", Aubrey asked.

"Apparently, they own the lounge. Not only that, thier headquarters is located directly beneath it and Noah knew I was a reporter for the Marquis. When the lounge started taking fire, he dragged me outside, shoved me into a limo with a couple other guys and drove to this house in the middle of the fucking woods but it wasn't a long drive so I'm guessing we're right outside of town", I explained, keeping my voice at a whisper as I rummaged around in Noah's closet until I located a 9mm under a stack of neatly folded clothes on a shelf.

"Headquarters as in mafia headquarters? That's just perfect. Singers by day, cartel by night. Jesus fucking Christ, sis", Aubrey growled. "Stay safe. According to Jolly just now, men are inside the house. Stay low and be smart. If I find out you took a bullet, I'm kicking your ass off this planet". I ended the call and walked to the window to peek out of the cracked curtain but not moving it.

There were two mid-sized Sedans in the driveway next to the limo. At most, that's eight men. Eight against three unless Noah or Nick called for backup. Obviously, the odds were absolute shit. Taking a deep breath I quietly made my way out of the bedroom, stepping into the hallway. Everything was dark...and quiet. Until it wasn't. I took one step and all hell broke loose from downstairs.

The sounds of gunfire piercing the air was damn near deafening as flashes of light illuminated the dark house. It gave me the temporary light I needed to crouch my way to the landing at the top of the stairs, coming face to face with who I could only assume was this Marcus guys' henchman. Raising the 9mm, I fired a single shot into the man's chest, blood spraying from the wound. He fell backwards, head over feet down the stairs.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!", Noah shouted from below. Ignoring how pissed I knew he was, I continued down the stairs, staying low and out of sight. Coming to the entrance of the kitchen, I quickly looked around before entering, hiding behind the island. I heard foot steps and I slowly peeked around the island enough to see another man in a suit enter on the other side.

CRACK!

I fired another shot, this one taking up residence in the man's belly, blood immediately dripping and spraying to pool on the floor as he hit the ground, unmoving. A hand suddenly latched onto my arm, hauling me to my feet, dragging me down a hallway before I was shoved into a room, the door slamming behind me.

I had no time to respond to Noah before his hands were in my hair, lips crashing to mine in a battle of teeth and tongues. I could smell the metallic scent of blood on him, praying to God he wasn't hurt.

There were no words spoken as Noah grabbed my leggings, yanking them down my legs and over my feet. He tapped my thigh once and I jumped, locking my legs and thighs around his waist. Reaching between us, he swipped the head of his cock through my soaked folds before shoving himself inside me to the hilt in one fluid motion. I cried out at the feeling of being stretched and full, my head hitting the wall, as Noah's lips rained open mouthed kisses down my neck.

"You fucking disobeyed me, pretty girl. Next chance I get, I'm tanning your goddamn hide", Noah snarled, crashing his lips to mine again. I tightened my thighs around his narrow waist, my arms wrapping around his muscular shoulders as he relentlessly pistoned his cock in and out of my dripping pussy. My orgasm was just within reach as Noah snaked a hand between us, rubbing circles over my swollen clit and the dam burst. Throwing my head back, I screamed as my walls suddenly clamped down on Noah's cock, coating him in my release as it dripped down his balls. Noah grunted into my neck as he stilled himself deep within my body to empty rope after thick rope of hot come.

Coming down from my high, I disentagled myself from his hold to slip my leggings back on over my legs. Noah straightened his own clothes before raking a hand through his hair and giving me a pointed look while reaching to his ear.

"Status report, Nicholas. What do we got?", Noah snapped, reaching a hand out to me which I gladly took and letting him pull me to his chest. He, too, was catching his breath.

"We got'em all, boss. Five in total but it's fucking messy. We need Bryan and Davis on clean up. It's going to take several days, maybe a week or two at most to make sure this house is spotless. You're talking black lights, forensic dust, anything and everything brought in to help cover our tracks. Not to mention the show starts in a few hours", Nicholas replied, voice coming through Noah's earpiece that he held in his palm.

I sighed, looking up at Noah who simply responded by kissing my temple.

"Nice work, Nicholas. See that it's done. Call Jolly, make sure he's ok", Noah replied.

"You got it, boss", Nicholas replied. Noah turned to me then before leaning down, giving me a slow kiss.

"Let's go, pretty girl".

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@concreteemo @concreteangel92 @bluestdai @collidewiththesavannah @artificialstardust @amagentarose8 @amourtoken @alloraiona @bloodylullaby @darling-millicent-aubrey @doomhands-jr @dsireland86 @exitwoundsx @fadingintothegrey @iamamatus @iluvmewwwww75 @kaliforniahigh @lma1986 @lilhobgobbler @lolitasangel @lovexsleepyhead @like-a-omen @livingdeceasedgirl @philomenie @sorrowsofsilence @sacredthefran @thatchickwiththecamera @tikosblogg @thisbicc @yarasdead ❤️❤️