#another one to add to the “chris” collection

[onlyfourkiwis]

[fluentmoviequoter]

It's Your Life, But Let Me In

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!reader

Summary: You overhear Chris and Molly giving Street a hard time and ignoring his boundaries. When you encourage him to make his own decisions and remind him that you are with him, he realizes how different you are.

Warnings: spoilers for and dialogue from S.W.A.T. 4x7 "Under Fire", angst to fluff, Chris and Molly, love confession, kissing

Word Count: 3.8k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“Luca needs to get back from Germany,” you bemoan. “I’m starving.”

“There’s this crazy new thing called cooking for yourself. You should try it sometime,” Hondo replies with a smile.

“I have tried and it’s not the same.”

Hondo rolls his eyes and pats your shoulder as Lieutenant Lynch enters S.W.A.T. HQ.

“What are you doing here so early?” she asks you.

“Nothing better to do.”

“Wow. Thanks for that,” Hondo interjects. “I’m not going to let you visit Street anymore if you’re going to treat me like this.”

“You should blame yourself for sending Luca away. I’m irritable because I’m hungry.”

 ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

Across town, Street is facing a similar problem of being hungry in Luca’s absence. He’s taken a different approach: less complaining and more cooking for himself and Molly.

“Maybe not as tasty as Luca’s special breakfast burritos, but, uh, as long as he’s in Germany, it’s gonna have to do.” He sees the time and adds, “I’m running late. Would you mind plating these? I’ll be right back.”

“Plating?” Molly repeats. “Think maybe we need to stop binging those cooking shows.”

As she moves the food from the pan onto the prepared plates, three plates she notices but doesn’t stop to wonder why, Jim’s phone begins vibrating on the table.

“Babe, your phone!” Molly calls. When she doesn’t receive a reply, she looks at the caller ID: State Prison Lancaster. “I think it’s your mom!” she adds.

After two more vibrations, she answers and says, “Jim Street’s phone.”

“This is a collect call from state prison inmate Karen Street. Will you accept the charges?” an automated voice asks.

“Yes.” When the line connects, Molly begins, “Mrs. Street, my name is Molly. I’m Jim’s girlfriend.”

While Molly answers his phone, Street gathers his things and thinks of you. You’re supposed to stop by the station this morning to visit, and he’s planning to take you some food because he knows you miss Luca’s incredible meals as much as he does. Upon returning from the bedroom, he sees Molly on the phone and asks, “Is that my phone?”

“Yes,” Molly answers, covering the microphone. “Just a sec, Mrs. Street. Here’s Jim.”

Street takes the phone and ends the call before sliding it into his pocket. He returns to the kitchen and shakes his head at his mom’s antics.

“Jim, what are you doing?” Molly asks. “That was your mom.”

“Yeah, I know. Why would you answer that?” Street replies.

“What if it was an emergency? Which it was. She’s really sick. Says they’ve got her at the prison infirmary.”

“She’s fine.”

“She didn’t sound fine.”

“I promise you it’s just another one of her scams to suck me back into her life.”

“If you’d talked to her, we’d know for sure, wouldn’t we?”

“There’s a reason that I never mention my mother to you. I’m done with her. She’s out of my life. I don’t want her anywhere near me, and I definitely don’t want you anywhere near her. Believe me, it’s for your own good.”

Molly stands in her place, unable to see where Street is coming from. She doesn’t understand why he is so comfortable leaving his mother alone, especially when she calls to tell him she’s not doing well.

“You know,” Molly says after a moment, “I’m going to be late. I’ll grab breakfast at work.”

“Molly,” Street calls after her. “Just wait a second, Molly.”

He sighs as the door closes behind her and sets the empty pan to the side. Street has never been great at relationships, but after Molly ignores his reasons and wishes, he’s not sure she is the woman worth fighting for, anyway.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

“Good morning,” Deacon says as he looks over your shoulder.

You turn quickly and smile when you see Street walking toward you. He extends a covered bowl of food, and you gasp excitedly before thanking him. His close-lipped smile immediately clues you into the fact that something is wrong.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

“Yeah, I’m good. Enjoy the food.”

You nod and thank him again before he walks away with his team. After their morning meeting, you hope to spend a few more minutes with Street and get to the bottom of whatever bothers him. Years of friendship have brought you incredibly close to him, and you want him to know that you support him, no matter what he is going through. However, you also know that he is with Molly, so you respect that boundary, too. While you want to hug him, hold him tight, and promise that everything will be okay, that isn’t your place. Until he invites you in, you are happy being an onlooker in Street’s life.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

“You made breakfast,” Chris muses as she shakes her head. “Guess that means Molly stayed over.”

“How’s that going?” Deacon asks. “You planning to settle down sometime soon?”

Street inhales before he shrugs. “I guess we’ll see how it works out.”

“Hey,” Hondo calls as he gestures for Street to hang back and talk to him. Once the rest of the team is out of earshot, Hondo says, “I haven’t heard much about your personal life recently. Your mom’s not still giving you trouble, is she?”

While you look for Street to thank him for the delicious breakfast, you accidentally stumble upon him talking to Hondo about his mom. You stop in a nearby hallway, and prepare to turn around to let Street finish his conversation privately. He tells you a lot about his life, and though you don’t know how big that is for him, you think you probably already know what he’s going to say: he has everything under control, even if he doesn’t, because he has trouble asking for help.

“I got it all handled," Street answers as expected.

“That’s not an answer. Talk to me,” Hondo replies.

“She tried to call me this morning from prison. Molly answered, she didn’t know any better.”

On that note, you do turn and walk away. Molly is not your friend, Street is, so now that the conversation has shifted, you feel wrong about eavesdropping further.

“That doesn’t sound handled. Your mom still locked up?”

“Yeah. Violating parole should’ve been just a year, max, but she’s still there, so it can only mean she’s still screwing up.”

“You don’t talk to her?”

“No. I mean, I did, early on a couple times. But it’s always the same old BS with her… How she’s a victim, how the C.O.s or the other prisoners aren’t treating her right. Nothing’s ever her fault.”

“She’s still blaming you for being there?”

“Probably. She was never exactly the forgiving type.”

“All right, look, kid. I’ve always tried to have your back where your mom’s concerned. Now, we banged heads over it early on, but when it comes down to it, you got to do what’s in your heart.”

Street nods, but lately, what his heart wants goes against what everyone around him thinks is right.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

“C’mon,” Chris says, “I have to do the boring part of the job and I could use some company.”

You nod and follow her into the kitchen and dining area of S.W.A.T. HQ. Technically, you were supposed to leave a while ago, but you’re still worried about Street and want to stay close in case he needs a friend. Yes, his teammates are also his friends, but since you don’t work with him daily, it is easier for him to open up to you. Or, at least, that’s the reason as you see it.

Chris gives you a few directions so you can help her and make the project go twice as fast. You work side-by-side and talk about your plans for the weekend. Even though you aren’t on the team, Street’s teammates always make you feel like part of the family when you stop by.

“So, any big weekend plans to tell Street how you actually feel?” Chris asks.

Luckily, the door opens before you can reply.

“Oh, hey,” Street says when he enters. 

He smiles and asks what you’re still doing here, but you don’t get to answer before Molly walks in.

“Molly, what’s up?” Street asks.

You return your attention to your task, and you and Chris speed up to get out of the room as quickly as possible.

“I know you’re busy, but I called the prison to check on your mom.”

Once you hear that Molly crossed such a clear boundary, you freeze momentarily before growing desperate to escape this conversation.

“You did what?” Street demands.

“She wasn’t lying, Jim. I talked to a doctor, it’s something with her liver. They’re transferring her to a hospital for tests. It’s bad.”

“I told you, I want nothing to do with her. You know our history. Her- her drug abuse, alcohol, violence.”

“Every one of those things is consistent with her being abused,” Molly argues.

“Do not go making her a victim.”

You finish what you’re working on and look at Chris. She picks everything up and points hurriedly at the door. A tiny part of you wants to hear where this is going, but you and Street are too close to throw away your relationship over something he will tell you when he’s ready.

“Well, that was…” you begin as you walk into the hallway.

“It’s going to be a long day,” Chris sighs.

“Not what I was thinking,” you murmur.

You look back over your shoulder at the door and wish you could go in and encourage him to do whatever he wants, whatever he thinks is right. But Molly is in there, and you trust Street will always do the right thing no matter what she says.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

Street watches you leave and wants to follow you, but Molly continues arguing.

“Babe, your mom is a victim. I deal with women like your mother all the time, their lives destroyed by the trauma of being abused and never getting help. Twenty years ago, she needed treatment, and all she’s had is a life of black eyes and incarceration.”

“This is my fault for having her locked up again?” Street questions.

“No. But, Jim, this is the woman who gave birth to you.”

“And dragged me through hell every day since. She betrayed me, she lied to me, she stole from me, she almost cost me my career at S.W.A.T. I can’t believe you’re taking her side on this.”

“I’m not taking sides.”

“Don’t you think maybe you should be? You know what? I can’t do this right now. I’m at work, okay? I just…” Street turns and walks toward the door as he finishes, “Can’t do this.”

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You leave the station soon after Street returns from his conversation with Molly. You plan to visit again when he gets off and remind him that you’re here for him, but he is at work and has more important things to focus on than his mom, girlfriend, or you. There’s a brief moment where you consider calling Luca and asking him to talk to Street. You decide against it because Jim probably doesn’t need anyone else in his business right now.

When you arrive at the station, Deacon sees you in the parking lot and insists you go inside. He noticed Street’s off attitude, too, and thinks you're the cure.

“Are you sure?” you ask quietly.

“He needs a friend. That’s you.”

You nod and walk into HQ. Street isn’t around, so you sit beside the locker room and are soon unintentionally eavesdropping for the third time today.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

At the end of the shift, after a long day of saving firefighters and finding a shooter, Chris and Street are in the locker room and preparing to leave. Street wants to go home, maybe call you, and then enjoy some alone time without anyone asking him what he is going to do, or worse, tell him what he should do.

“You figured out how you’re gonna make it right to Molly yet?” Chris asks.

“How I’m gonna make it right? I’m not the one who needs to apologize," Street replies.

“We got out of there as fast as we could, but I heard enough to know, you… You’ve got some fences to mend.”

“You also heard how she totally went behind my back with my mom.”

“Her motive being, what? Compassion? Giving a crap about women who’ve had a messed-up life?”

You pull your phone from your pocket and press Street’s number. He doesn’t answer, and you frown before standing. You don’t want to hear more than you have to, so you walk to the parking lot and wait beside Street’s bike. He exits the building alone and is clearly in no mood to talk, but you must ensure he knows that Molly and Chris are wrong. They have no say in his personal life and are never willing to be there for him.

“Hi,” you greet. “I know you’ve had a crazy day and you’re ready to get home, but I need to say something first.”

“Let me guess,” he begins defensively. “You’re going to tell me that I should go see my mom or apologize to Molly. Why not make it better and say both?”

You fight down a smile at his response. At least he hasn’t lost his personality in the day he’s had.

“Actually,” you reply, “I was going to tell you that Chris and Molly overstepped. None of these decisions are theirs, and, in the end, it’s your choice. Because your life is the one being most affected. I just thought you could use a reminder that no one gets to make these calls for you. It’s your life, Street. I, for one, am with you no matter what you decide to do.”

“What if I make the wrong decision?” he whispers. Every trace of defensiveness is gone in his clear doubt about the choices he faces.

“Then you’ll find a way to learn from it. I don’t think there is a wrong decision here; unless, of course, it’s not yours.”

“I really don’t want to talk to my mom.”

“Then don’t. You know you and you know her, so you know what is best for you and your relationship with her. If that’s no relationship, that’s your choice.”

“I don’t know.”

“But you will,” you promise. “You’ll make the best decision for the right reasons. You choose for you, not for anyone else, okay?”

Street nods slowly, and you wish him goodnight before you turn toward your car. Suddenly, you remember he is facing one more decision and spin to face him.

“One more thing, Street. You didn’t do anything wrong, you just stood up for yourself, so don’t apologize unless you think you need to. Don’t let anyone that’s not in your relationship into your relationship.”

“Thank you,” he calls after you.

You don’t see Street’s smile return as you enter your car, but your statements help him more than you thought they would.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

When Street texts Molly and asks her to come over, he fully expects her to say no, so when she knocks on the door a few minutes later, he’s surprised.

“Thanks for coming,” he says as he invites her in. “I wasn’t sure you would after today.”

“I’m here, so…” Molly begins. She trails off and waits for Jim to do something.

There’s an apology somewhere inside Street, where he says he was a jerk and makes excuses for his actions. However, your words are fresh in his mind, and he decides not to apologize. As he looks at Molly and compares what she said and did today to your words and actions, Street realizes something.

Whenever he thinks of taking the next step with Molly or one of the guys asks where he sees the relationship going, he can’t get past this point. Hondo joked that it was his inner playboy, but Street sees now that the issue was never him or a fear of commitment. It was Molly the whole time. 

Since the beginning, Street knew that Molly wasn’t the right one, but he’s finally ready to admit it. Molly was never really there for him, never listened to him – still doesn’t, Street thinks – and she has never been respectful or careful of his boundaries. 

“You may be expecting an apology,” Street says, “but I don’t think I need to give you one. I asked you to leave it alone, and you didn’t. I know you mean well, Molly, but I can’t keep doing this if you’re just going to go behind my back and ignore everything I say.”

“She’s your mother!” Molly argues. “You still have time to fix things with her.”

“That’s just it, though. I’m- I’m not sure I want to. Listen, Molly, I know that you lost your mother, and how devastating that was for you, but it’s not the same situation for me.”

Street’s mind drifts to you. He remembers what you said earlier and realizes it has always been you. You are the only person in his life who has always been with him, listened to him, supported him, and respected his feelings. You respect him and his boundaries no matter what. Unlike Chris and Molly, you’ve never tried to decide for him or make him see your reasoning, but you’ve been there to talk or listen when he needs it.

“Molly, look. I love you; I do. But not in the way that you deserve to be loved, or that I need to love whoever I spend my life with,” Street explains. “You will always be special to me, but I have to make my own choices.”

Molly wipes a tear as she asks, “Like what?”

“When to go get the girl,” Street answers quietly.

Molly nods and rushes out of Street’s house. He sighs before he follows her.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

A loud knock pulls your attention from the book in your lap, and you set it to the side before you slowly walk to the door.

“It’s me,” Street says from the other side.

You release a breath and open the door. It’s late, and you’re confused about why Street is knocking on your door when he’s supposed to be with Molly, but you let him in anyway. When he stops beside your table and stares at the book you left on it, completely silent, you grow less confused and more concerned.

“Street,” you say. You lay your hand on his arm and ask, “You’ve been different today. What’s bothering you?”

“You,” he whispers. 

After you pull your hand away, shocked and heartbroken at his answer, he rushes to explain himself.

“No, listen,” he begs. “What you said earlier changed everything. You told me that it was my decision and that I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to, all that. But, when I was talking to Molly about how she doesn’t respect my decisions or my boundaries and tries to force her opinions about what I should do without knowing my reasons, I remembered you.”

You furrow your brows, and Street raises his hands to hold your shoulders.

“I appreciate you, so much. Not just for telling me what I deserve but for being that and so much more. You are the only person in my life that just lets me do what I need to do, and you’re by my side through all of it. Everything that you said I needed, I have in you. Thank you.”

“Of course. It’s your life, Street,” you reply. “But that doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.”

“You-“ Street begins again before trailing off. He doesn’t know how to express his feelings because he’s slowly realizing what he feels for you.

“Spit it out, Street,” you say with a smile. “I’m here to listen.”

Street shakes his head but lowers his voice to do as you say. “I loved Molly, but- but Molly didn’t just love me back. She tried to tell me how to love. And Chris- I don’t even know what Chris’s problem is; some days she wants to love and others she just wants to be loved, but never at the same time. It’s exhausting to deal with, but then she argues about what love looks like even though she can’t possibly know.”

You nod along, not sure what Street needs or wants to hear. Staying silent seems like the best option while he works through these thoughts. He’s saying the word love a lot, but never in the present tense or as an active feeling, you notice.

“But you… with you everything is shared. You love without expecting love in return, and you listen and remember. There has never been a moment with you where I felt pressured or ignored, and I love that about you.”

You smile and open your mouth to tell Street you’ll always be here for him, but he cuts you off.

“I love that about you,” he repeats. “I love you because you are everything I don’t deserve, but you make me feel deserved.”

After your eyes widen, you make a noise that sounds like a sob and a laugh. Street waits for you to say something, but you can’t beat the speech he just gave, so you raise your hands to his cheeks and nod. His eyes widen to match yours when a tear slides over the bump of your cheek as your smile returns.

“You said it’s my life, but I don’t have to do it alone, right?” Street murmurs as you step closer to him.

“Right.”

“Then, I think that I’d like to make you a bigger part of my life.”

You don’t hesitate to kiss him, and as he meets you in the middle, you think about how long you have wanted to be part of his life. Being near him was beautiful, but being by his side through everything will be an entirely new and perfect experience. You love Jim Street, and now that he loves you, too, you feel like a part of his life, not an accessory to it.

“I love you,” you say against his lips.

Street’s arms tighten around your waist, and he tilts his chin to kiss your forehead before standing.

“Did you break up with Molly before you came over here?” you whisper.

Street nods, and you bite your bottom lip before saying, “So, you’re giving me her position?”

“No,” Street promises with a laugh. “I’m giving you the position I should have given you a long time ago.”

You kiss Street quickly and laugh when he tries to follow you for more. “I promise to fill my position well, and to always listen to you, respect your boundaries…”

Street ducks his head, and his nose brushes against yours as he replies, “Maybe we could remove a few of our boundaries.”

He kisses you again, and you find that you like your new position in Jim Street’s life more than you ever anticipated.

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | April 22nd-May 5th 2024

I'm back!!! You get two weeks worth of fic since I went on vacation last week! :)

Complete

up down jump around by lecornergirl/ @clusterbuck (7x06: There Goes The Groom, Karaoke | 1,6K | Teen): Buck appears out of nowhere, crashing into the seat next to him and landing half on top of him. “We should go,” he says. Eddie frowns. “Go where? I thought you wanted to party?” Buck rolls his eyes, exaggerated in a way that tells him Buck is not on his first beer. “No, I mean, we should go next,” he says, and makes a sweeping gesture in the direction of the karaoke setup.

hold your breath and feel the tension by chromatophorica/ @chromatophorica (9-1-1/Lone Star Crossover, Getting Together | 17K | Teen): Following the arson attack at TK and Carlos' apartment, some of the 126 decide to visit LA for a while to unwind, hanging out with the 118 crew. Buck absolutely is not having feelings about the friendship between Marjan and Eddie. No matter what TK might think he knows.

Eddie's Housewife by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Getting Together | 2K | General): Eddie buys Buck an apron and dish gloves. Accidentally makes Buck his housewife. Realizes he's in love with Buck. All in that order.

know all the ways to appreciate your design (I'm a damn good lover) by extasiswings/ @extasiswings (Bachelor Party, Buck/Tommy, PWP | 3K | Explicit): He’s a beautiful man, don’t you think? Have you ever wondered what it would be like? Even a little bit? You have, haven’t you? Or: the one where Tommy is here for a good time, not a long time; Buck really likes it when he runs his mouth; and Eddie...well, Eddie doesn't have a clue

just another deathbed confession by actualalligator/ @actualalligator (Near Death Experience | 2K | Teen): Buck ends up buried when the floor gives out underneath him on a call. He calls 9-1-1 and demands to speak to Maddie.

Both Bermuda and Golden (Lost but Doing Just Fine) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (PWP, Threesome, BuckTommyEddie | 39K | Explicit): In which everyone has two hands and two holes and is keeping their options fluid. (Or: a collection of threesome fics.)

5. You Knew We'd End Up Here (Daddy Kink): Eddie was raised to say 'thank you' when someone gifts him nice things like ringside seats and helicopter rides. Buck likes honorifics and being good. And Tommy likes when men who look like Buck and Eddie do as he tells them. (Or: three scenes in the evolution of Buck, Eddie, and Tommy's relationship, all united by one particular word.) 6. But Mr. Pilot I Don't Have Any Money: Buck might not have the money to spare, but he's sure he can find a way to pay Tommy for a helicopter lesson... In completely unrelated news, Eddie has a key to Buck's apartment and a habit of dropping by.

yeehaw [revisited] by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (BuckTommy, PWP | 2K | Explicit): “Do you have a trampstamp?” Buck asks, looking at where the sunlight hits his skin perfectly, highlighting the faint, small, black text - too small for Buck to see exactly what it says from here. Tommy merely huffs a laugh into the crook of his neck, eyes still likely closed as he places a deep, languid, lazy kiss to the base of Buck’s jawline. “Mhm,” he hums. “I was wondering when you’d notice that,” he adds with another exhale of amusement.

🔥 If You Said I Do I Would Too by giselleslash/ @gigi-gigi (Fake Marriage | 5K | General): Eddie starts telling people Buck’s his husband to get out of annoying flirting situations on calls. Buck starts to like it a little too much.

this could be the year for the real thing by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Coda, 7x06: There Goes The Groom | 1,7K | Teen): His face is still a smear of soot, and Chris giggles. “Buck. Your face.” Buck frowns in confusion and Eddie steps over to him, hand already reaching to wipe the soot off his face, just like he has a hundred times at work. Except Tommy’s already there, licking his thumb and rubbing firmly at Buck’s chin, a gesture so familiar to Eddie that watching it happen separate from him feels like getting punched in the throat. or, eddie thinks about his best friend at a hospital wedding

tell me all the things that i wanna hear by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (7x06: There Goes The Groom | 1,3K | Teen): Or: Eddie realizes something at the bachelor party, but he doesn't remember until later.

take a chance (lay all your love on me) by bptlmevyemtc (Not Actually Unrequited Love | 35K | General): “You’re in love with me?” Buck asks, like a laggy computer system that just finished booting up. “Er. Yes?” Eddie says. “I thought we established that.” Buck nods, once, glacially slow, and Eddie sees when the synapses of his brain snap into place. “... But I’m straight?” the one where it takes eddie a while to get over buck, and it takes buck even longer to figure out he doesn't want him to

🔥 the ravi fic by archerincombat (Ravi POV, S4 | 15K | Teen): “Hey,” Ravi says. “Scale of 1 to 10, how bad would it be if I assumed Eddie Diaz’s girlfriend was his wife in front of him?” Lee groans. “Did you do it in front of Buckley?” “Yeah?”  “A hundred,” she replies, turning the other direction before Ravi can demand to know why. At three in the morning, it hits him. He bolts upright in his cot. Oh my god, he thinks. Buck and Eddie are divorced, and everyone forgot to tell me.

tried and true blue by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (There Was Only One Bed | 4K | Teen): or, sharing a bed with your best friend is fine, usually, except for when your best friend is the particular combination of tipsy and stoned at his sister’s wedding that transforms him into 200 pounds of cuddlebug

🔥 does he love you better than i can? by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Post-7x05: You Don't Know Me, BuckTommy, Tommy POV | 10K | Teen): Nothing has ever happened between us, Evan had insisted. You have absolutely nothing to worry about, Eddie had told him unequivocally. There’s no reason he shouldn’t take them both at their word, Tommy thinks, decisively. or, buck and eddie insist that there's nothing going on between them. tommy wants to believe them. he really, really does.

put my heart inside your palms by markofalover/ @markofalover (Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Buck’s speaking again, telling him, “Go dry your hair, baby.” And like, he’s stuck in his daydream. Completely crazy about it. So it’s not exactly his fault that he doesn’t register what Buck said until he’s in the bathroom again. He straightens his shoulders out and looks at his reflection like maybe he’s actually lost it, but, no, those were real words coming from Buck, who is also real, so— ...or, how an accidental pet name, a thoughtful dinner, and a shared shirt makes them get their shit together.

written all over your face by bucksclipboard/ @excuseme-greentea (BuckTommy | 2,5K | Teen): A completely smitten Buck decides he wants to keep Tommy all to himself for just a while longer. When an accidental goodbye kiss exposes their new relationship, the 118 wants to be respectful – but when has that ever worked? or: buck and tommy try to keep their relationship a secret and fail adorably

with a smile and some hope by iriswests/ @fcntasmas (Established Buddie | 6K | Mature): or; five times buck wakes up before eddie, and one time eddie wakes up before buck

🔥 as easy as defusing a bomb by iriswests/ @fcntasmas (Sexuality Crisis, S5 | 7K | Mature): or; buck moves in with eddie while taylor finds a new place, and prompts what feels like puberty 2.0 for eddie diaz.

Kiss Me Once Cause You Know I Had A Long Night by I_still_dont_understand_13 / @sherlockcrossing (Prompt collection | 31/? | 20K | Teen): 100 kiss prompts.

Chapter 30. 70. what if i told you none of it was accidental: An accidental kiss that confuses you both, but only a moment passes before you crash your lips back against each other's Chapter 31. 72. Accidentally bumping noses 

waiting for this moment to be free by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (Getting Together | <1K | General): Eddie opens his eyes to the dim flickering light of the TV, turned down low but not quite muted on one of those Ninja Warrior things that Buck loves. He's tilted sideways, cheek pillowed against the outside of Buck's arm, and he's apparently been drooling a little, which would be more embarrassing if it were the first or even the twentieth time it's happened. Or: Eddie, and Buck, and another couch.

you'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Established Buddie, Amnesia | 1,7K | Teen): Eddie is pretty sure the only person he's ever been genuinely attracted to, is Shannon. So, he is very confused when he wakes up in a hospital bed with temporary amnesia and the inability to look away from the pretty, hot guy in a firefighter uniform. And then, procedes to have the second gay panic of his life... because of the same person.

This Old Love Has Me Bound by allyasavedtheday/ @littlespoonevan (Post-7x04: Buck Bothered and Bewildered, BuckTommy, Pre-Buddie | 9K | Teen): In an attempt to better understand his newfound bisexuality, Buck tries to figure out if he ever missed any signs with guys before. The universe keeps interrupting every time he's about to think about Eddie.

all I want (your eyes on mine) by bigfootsmom/ @bigfootsmom (PWP, BuckTommyEddie | 10K | Explicit): Buck is lying there, Eddie instantly recognizes the head of honey blond curls resting on the arm of the couch. But the head of short brown curls between Buck’s shaking thighs takes a second longer to place. But then they look up, blue eyes going comically wide as they lock onto Eddie. Tommy Kinard is on Buck’s couch. He’s on Buck’s couch between Buck’s thighs with his lips wrapped around Buck’s cock. ~ The one where Eddie yearns, Buck pines, and Tommy just wants to have a good time.

of want and need by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (PWP | 2K | Explicit): Buck and Eddie fuck for the first time. That's it, that's the fic. (sequel to slowly getting sober from the taste of your skin)

WIP

🔥 change the prophecy by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Alternate Timeline, Curse/Magic | 7/11 | 17K | Mature): Buck has never felt secure in any of his relationships; he’s been searching for someone to see him the way he feels he’s meant to be seen, but after things start going downhill with Tommy, he thinks that person might just not exist. Eddie cannot figure out what’s wrong with him when it becomes clear things with Marisol aren’t going to work out. But what if they’re both forgetting something?

🔥 Any Other Way by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, S2 | 10/18 | 53K | Mature): In a switcheroo alternate universe, Buck spends young adulthood in the military, while Eddie, who has no idea Christopher exists, spends his twenties messing around, finally enjoying freedom away from his family’s expectations. When they both end up in Los Angeles, at the 118, some things are different, and others will be the same in any universe.

🔥 Steal My Sunshine by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Altered Memories | 4/9 | 15K | Mature): Memories hazy and unreliable, Eddie Diaz wakes up every morning in a house at the end of a cul de sac, goes to his office job at a petroleum engineering company, and comes home to his wife and son. But something is missing, and the more Eddie begins to put the pieces together, the stranger the predicament he finds himself in. 

some things fall when they're meant to fall by sibylsleaves/ @sibylsleaves (Post S7E5 | 2/4 | 11K | Teen): or, Buck tells Eddie some news. Eddie has a realization and breaks up with his girlfriend. Not necessarily in that order.

🔥 stuck now so long, we just got the start wrong by Daffi_990_ao3/ @daffi-990 (Canon Divergent, Different First Meeting | 3/10 | 24K | Not Rated): Probational Firefighters Evan “Buck” Buckley and Eddie Diaz meet on a call which ends with them at odds with each other. As the months roll by, they keep running into each other on the job, much to Eddie’s dismay and Buck’s delight. Can they put aside their first opinions and misunderstandings and allow the seeds of friendship, and possibly something more, to take root?

🔥 Cowboy With a One Track Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergence, Not A Firefighter Buck | 3/4 | 16K | Mature): Spin-off Sequel to Evan Buckley & the Coma-Verse of Madness - Chapter 7 (Land): Grieving and tortured, Evan Buckley has been living alone in Montana in a remote cabin for nearly a decade. After an incident that leaves him missing six months of his life, and suddenly in connection with a group of strangers from Los Angeles, Evan must decide whether to remain in his self-imposed exile, or take a chance at life again.

🔥 for all the haunts and homes of men by euadnes/ @kananjarus (Canon Divergent, Post-Apocalyptic, Station Eleven Crossover | WIP | 14/? | 126K | Mature | Warning: Violence): The year by the old calendar is 2025. Home is gone. Home is a failed rescue mission and an echo of a memory. Home is a lost boy living in a wooden house by the sea. But first, there was a promise. Christopher, when it's safe, I'll take you back to your father. Buck had all but given up on keeping it after the world had died and everyone in it. But just as some oaths refuse to be forgotten, so the same can be said about the endurance of love.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briar / @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, S7 Spec | 126/? | 393K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

Podfics

🔥 Leave The Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by Mad_Lori/ @madlori // fic by @hmslusitania (Post-S5, Missing Presumed Dead, Amnesia | 4.5-5h | Mature): An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is... missing presumed. While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home.

[podfic] Chimney's Guide to Dating a Buckley by Howard Han by Matriaya (Getting Buddie Together | 3-3.5h | Not Rated): And how stupid is it that reading 10 chapters of a guide to dating a Buckley by his coworker is how Eddie finally got his shit together and asked Buck out for a date? But, Eddie’s happy and so is Buck, so Chim might have had a point.

[podfic] Karen's Guide to Dating and Marrying a Firefighter with a Kid by Matriaya for KatieWrites (Getting Buddie Together, Karen POV sorta? | 1-1.5h | Not Rated): OR Buck's in love with his best friend and doesn't know how to figure out if Eddie shares his feelings.

[lustfulslxt]

Polaroid - Chris Sturniolo

summary : you and chris have been sneaking around for quite some time, and he takes pictures of you for his collection.

warnings : dirty and sexy sexxx

—

The flash blinds me, but I still see his pink lips curve into a smirk as the camera starts printing. We've built a small pile of polaroids already, and he adds the latest to the growing collection.

Chris and I have been fucking around with each other for a few months. It's been something we've kept between just the two of us, and we didn't really plan on telling anyone. We'd both sneak around whenever we could, stealing quick kisses and touches, every single chance we could.

We weren't exactly sure where we were going with it. At first, it was just sex. But, over time, we both cut off basically anyone that we were even just a little more than friends with. If I'm being honest, I could see myself with him, romantically. But I definitely enjoy what we have, so we'll see how things go.

"Crawl to me." He demands, his voice husky.

I follow his order, slowly crawling on all fours in his direction. Another flash, then the camera is printing once again.

"This one is gonna be so fucking good." He says while shaking the small sheet of plastic in hopes it develops faster.

As the picture comes into focus, he's groaning at the site. He sets the camera aside and places his hand around my neck, softly pulling me up to my knees so that I'm eye to eye with him.

"I'm going to destroy you." He whispers, his lips brushing against mine.

Before I can respond, he's ripping the playboy mask off of my face and slamming his lips on mine. We met in a heated kiss, one of his hands still on my neck while the other travels down to squeeze my ass. My hands run up his bare torso, linking around his neck while I play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Our tongues battled for dominance, and our teeth clashed together, both of us desperate for each other. Our actions were frantic and needy.

"You look so good, baby." He mutters into my mouth as he pulled away for a moment to catch his breath.

"I'd look even better with you inside me." I sigh, the wetness pooling between my legs at the mere thought.

He let out a loud groan, his dick twitching. He roughly tilts my head to the side and drags his mouth along my neck. His tongue and lips worked perfectly on my sensitive skin, leaving a trail of saliva in his wake. As he was doing that, he also reached behind me and undid the lingerie top I was wearing, discarding it to the side.

His mouth continued going lower, now peppering wet kisses around my chest and in the valley of my boobs. He was paying attention to every detail, noting how my skin was littered with goosebumps every time he touched it. He couldn't get enough of the way I reacted to him.

He pushed me down to the bed, crawling on top of me and grinding against me. I could feel his bulge putting pressure against my needy core, causing me to softly moan.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, ma.” He grins into my skin, his soft lips gliding over me perfectly.

I felt my breath hitch in anticipation as his hands pulled down the bottoms to my lingerie set, sliding them off my feet. Almost immediately, his hand is between my legs, pressing against my heat. A few whimpers left my mouth as I bucked my hips into his hand to create more friction.

A smirk pulled to his lips while he watched me writhe beneath him. I wanted him so bad, and he was reading me like a book. His fingers ran up and down my folds, slick with my fluids. His soft touch was driving me insane, the feeling of his warm fingers prodding at me in a teasing manner.

“Please touch me.” I whine.

Without another thought, his finger is entering me. I let out a breath, finally having something, even though I wanted more. He started pumping his finger in and out of me, swiftly adding another one between thrusts. I was damn near convulsing around him as moans left my mouth.

He suddenly pulled away, leaving me whimpering at the sudden loss of contact. Moments later, his hand was replaced with his mouth. He began lapping at my clit, moving his tongue in long strides from my throbbing bundle of nerves to my entrance.

My hands were entangled in his hair, tugging every time a wave of pleasure washed over me. He was always so good at everything he did, he made me feel on fire. He buried his face in my pussy, devouring every piece of me.

Moans were falling from my lips left and right, I was unable to speak coherent sentences. Just as I was about to cum, he pulled away with another smirk plastered across his face, leaving me a whining mess.

“Chris..” I breathed out, desperate for him.

“I know, baby.” He grinned, leaning up to my face.

After intently staring at me for a moment, he smashed his lips onto mine. I could taste myself on his tongue as he worked it in my mouth. He briefly pulled away to remove his boxers, leaving him naked, before kissing me again. His dick was pressing into my dripping core, causing us to both shutter.

"Turn over, ma." He says, flipping me onto my stomach.

He placed his hands on my hips, slightly pulling me up, indicating he wants me on all fours. I complied without hesitation, eager to feel him. His hand trailed up my bare back and pushed down on my neck, stuffing my face in the sheets.

His hands continued to roam all over my curves, squeezing and massaging so tenderly. I feel him place his hard dick on my ass as he leant over me, grabbing the polaroid camera that was beside me.

"You're so wet for me, baby." He groans, sliding himself back and forth between my slit.

"Mhm, you make me f-feel good." I moaned out, loving the feeling he was giving me.

As his dick was sitting at the top of my ass, a flash plays out across the room. I could hear the picture printing before it was tossed next to me. Once it finished developing, I could see his point of view, and it looked so hot.

Without warning, he sinks his dick into me. I gasped, pushing myself back into him. Once he bottomed out, another flash lit the room up. Before it even finishes printing, the camera is tossed next to me and he's fucking into me so deliciously.

"Fuck daddy, s-so good." I moan out, clenching around him.

His pace picked up, and he was thrusting faster and harder. The sound of our moans and skin slapping sounded throughout the room. His hands were going back and forth from holding my waist steady, to massaging my ass. My hands fisted the sheets as he continued to pound into me so perfectly.

"Holy fuck, I love the way you feel around my cock." He groans out, hitting deeper.

I couldn't help the loud moans that fell from my parted lips. He was fucking me so good; my eyes were literally rolling to the back of my head.

"You're taking me so well, mama." He moans, his hand springing across my ass with a loud smack.

A whimper that turned into a moan escaped my lips, pleasure coursing through me. I could feel my orgasm building in my stomach, begging for release. Chris' hand reached forward and wrapped around my hair, tugging me back as he continued to relentlessly thrust into me.

It was enough to push me to my limits, as I was now clenching around him with a loud moan. My legs quivered as I let go, cumming all over his dick.

"Mhm, yes daddy." I moan out, meeting his thrusts.

I feel him spasm behind me, then he's emptying his hot load into me, with his own loud moan escaping from his mouth. He slows his thrusts, still fucking his nut into me. My legs give out and I collapse to the bed in pure bliss, Chris falling onto the bed next to me.

Almost immediately, he's got the polaroids in his hand as he looked through them. As he admired me in the pictures, I admired him right next to me. His chest was heaving with every breath, his cheeks were flushed, and he looked so pretty and fucked out. I've never seen someone more perfect than him.

"I hope you know this one is going in my wallet." He smirks, flashing me the photo.

It was the one of me crawling towards him. I can't lie, it did look hot. I nodded with a grin on my face before placing my lips on his in a slow and gentle kiss, which he reciprocated with ease.

I never wanted to give this up.

Fast forward a few weeks, I was hanging out with all of the triplets. We were chilling on the sofa, the boys' debating what they wanted to get to eat.

"Oh! I have a Taco Bell gift card in my wallet! We should use that." Chris offers.

"Great idea! I'll go get it." Matt states, before running off to grab Chris' wallet.

It didn't hit us at first, until we suddenly shared a panic look at the same time Matt's voice rang throughout the house.

"CHRIS! WHO THE FUCK IS THIS?!"

He came running back into the living room, the polaroid in his hand. He held it up expectantly, waving it in Chris' face.

"Uh- I don't know. It came as merch with some clothes I bought." He lies, his eyes frantically looking between me and his brother.

Luckily, Matt didn't catch onto anything as his eyes were looking back at the picture in his hands. A smirk pulled to his lips, and he titled his head.

"Can I have this? It's hot as fuck."

Immediately, Chris rose from his seat and snatched it from Matt's hands, "Okay, buddy. You're done."

We shared another look, and I could feel my face flush at the thought of his brothers finding out about our dirty little secret, especially from a sexy polaroid.

--

a/n : ughh, i feel like i haven't written in ages. i'm slacking sooo bad! not proofread as per usual. anywaysss, hope this feeds y'all <3 send in more requests!

[flowerxbunnie]

Hola! Soy Dora! —

okay wait no for real tho.. can you pretty please write a nasty lil big bad b bernard matty boy fic? like where he’s big daddy dom and he’s got an unspoken relationship with y/n? like they’ve not spoken the words, but they belong togetherrr 🎶 okay but for real.. that, and they have a night together where they’re just drinking and vibing with one another (just them) and it takes a turn 😈 and he’s being like all controlling and makes her ride his thigh while he touches himself to the sight, and then and then and then just rails her into oblivion? loooadddds of filthy speak because i am a slut for that right there! pretty please with a cherry on top? 🍒

Carnal

Matt x Fem reader

Warnings: pure FILTHY smut. Dom!Matt, daddy kink, deg/praise, thigh riding etc :)

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH SMUT OR ARE A MINOR

I throw back the last sip of my drink and hand my cup to Matt, the alcohol tasting like candy but burning just the same going down. I take the gummy worm off the rim and suck the sugar off, Matt’s eyes watching my every move closely. My skin is warm and my veins are filled with a buzzing feeling. He stacks the plastic cup on top of the others we’ve collected on the coffee table throughout the night, a chuckle escaping his lips as he counts them in his head.

“Damn, we gotta slow down soon.” He shakes his head slightly. “I’d like to not have a migraine tomorrow.”

“I’m feeling good, don’t know about you Matty boyyy..” I draw out, sitting back on the couch.

He sits back along with me and throws his arm over the back of the couch, turning his body slightly to face me. He has a half full cup in his other hand, his finger circling the rim slowly.

“Oh, I’m feeling good.” he smirks, bringing the cup to his lips and sipping as his eyes stay locked onto mine.

I can feel the slow and steady beat of the bass in my chest, his playlist playing quietly on the speaker on the table. We spend a while scrolling through my liked TikToks, cuddling and laughing together.

I find myself spending most of my Saturdays here in his living room, drinking and talking all night while Nick and Chris are away. My relationship with him is complicated. We’re definitely more than friends, but also less than lovers. I think we both have a problem with labels, feeling far more comfortable leaving things unspoken. I can’t help the thoughts that live in the back of my mind, like an itch I can’t scratch. A worry that maybe I’m not the only one he spends nights like this with. I know he’s my one and only, I can’t even fathom another man making me feel the way Matt does. Whether I’m in his car cracking up at his road rage or in his bed with the headboard thumping against the wall, I’m always filled with insane butterflies for this man.

But even though I’m sure of my feelings, he’s never outright spoken his. We’ve never had the conversation of if we want to date around or keep this situationship we have going on between us two. I feel selfish for wanting him all to myself, but he makes it hard not to.

“You good, baby?” He asks in his raspy voice, the nickname flowing off his tongue like honey and making my heart flutter. “You seem a little zoned out tonight.”

“I’m fine,” I lie, sitting up to grab another prefilled cup off the coffee table. “Just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” He asks and brings his hand to the small of my back, his warm fingertips brushing beneath the hem of my shirt and sending shivers up my spine.

I just shake my head and give him a smile before throwing back a big gulp of my drink, melting against his touch as his hand inches higher up my spine. His rough fingertips run up and down slowly, my tense muscles going soft as he adds pressure.

“You know that’s not an answer, Y/n. Come on, talk to me.” He speaks sweetly as he sits his cup down.

His hand wraps around my waist and pulls me back down next to him on the couch, hooking his hand around my legs and bringing them up onto his lap. The look in his eyes is serious, even through the glaze the alcohol has brought on.

“I don’t know Matt,” I play with my fingers like I always do when I’m nervous. “I’m just having weird feelings tonight.”

His eyes soften like he already knows what I’m going to say. “Tell me, love.”

I sigh and let my back fall into the soft cushions. “I’m just scared.” I start, watching as the look on his face stays the same, unwavering. “I’m scared for the day you find someone else who you’re ready to make things official with. I’m scared that I’m not the only one you fix gummy worm drinks for.”

He chuckles and my heart drops, my suspicions feeling all the more real as he breaks out into a fit of laughter. His hand leaves my legs and comes up to rub his eyes, his head shaking from side to side. “That’s what you’re all worked up about?” He asks through giggles.

I nod and feel the tears threatening to spill over, my drunk emotions amplified insanely. He doesn’t even notice, he just keeps laughing and brings his hand to his chest as it heaves.

“I don’t see how it’s funny..” I speak softly, my voice cracking at the end, my cheeks heating up as my weakness becomes obvious.

He immediately stops laughing, his head snapping back to me and his eyes softening. He brings a hand to my cheek and moves his thumb back and forth, his eyes flicking back and forth between both of mine.

“Baby, I thought it was obvious.” He tilts his head slightly, his eyes scanning my face slowly.

“Do I need to call an Uber?” I croak, still sure that he’s about to tell me I’m dumb for thinking too deeply about the way he felt for me.

“What?” He says shocked, his eyes wide and his hand halting its movements on my face.

It’s like the realization flashes in his brain, he closes his eyes and sucks in a breath. He doesn’t say anything, just brings his hand back to my leg and traces it up to my thigh and gives it a squeeze. My body is reacting in a way I don’t know if I like, blood rushing to my heat between my legs despite the hurt I’m feeling.

But like Matt always does, he makes it all better. “You’re all I need, Y/n. All I want.” His hand trails higher, gripping and squeezing my skin along the way. “You know I’m not good at speaking my mind.”

My breath hitches as his fingers trace around the bottom of my shorts leaving a burning trail in their wake.

“But trust me,” he starts, his fingers dipping ever so slightly beneath the fabric, “I know that you’re it for me. Now stop worrying so much.”

His hand trails back down my leg, my thighs instinctively pressing together wishing for the friction I never got. He leans over and grabs my cup, handing it to me and sipping on his own. “Let’s finish these, hm?”

I grab the cup and down it quickly, squeezing my eyes shut at the burn. He chuckles and tilts his head back, his jawline sharp and defined in the ambient light of the lamps and candles. He sucks his teeth as he grabs my cup and stacks it into his, discarding them along with the rest.

“Take your shorts off.”

I’m taken aback, the conversation feels so unfinished but my head is swimming with thoughts of how his body would feel against my own. I still oblige, hooking my fingers into my waistband and slipping them down my legs, tossing them onto the coffee table. He gives me a slight smirk and grips onto my left ankle, lowering my foot onto the floor. He turns his body to fully face me and brings my right leg to the other side of him. My thighs open and my clothed core is exposed to him.

“You wore my favorite pair.” He coos, his thumb coming up to ghost over the fabric.

The smallest whimper leaves my mouth, my pussy aching for his touch. He moves up slowly, almost as if he’s memorizing the pattern in the lace, his thumb running up to the hemline and resting against my lower abdomen.

“Did you do that on purpose?” He questions, hooking his index finger into the elastic and pulling. “Did you know it would make daddy get all worked up?” He lets go and it snaps against me, a pulsing sting etched into my skin.

“N-no, not on purpose,” I lie, my heart speeding up at the dirty name. I knew damn well what I was getting myself into when I grabbed them out of my drawer.

“I don’t like when you lie, baby.” He moves his hand to my hip and gives it a squeeze. “Tell daddy the truth.” He begins slowly pulling my panties down, stopping when I don’t speak right away.

“I’m s-sorry daddy. I like the way you get so turned on when you see them.” I breathe out, a satisfied hum coming from my throat as he resumes pulling them down.

“That’s better.” He helps me maneuver out of them, bringing them to his face and placing a kiss against the fabric. “I think I’ll keep em’.” He smiles smugly as he slips them into his pocket.

He runs his hands up both of my thighs, his eyes raking up along with his movements. He brings his thumbs against my folds and spreads them open, his eyes darkening as he takes in the sight of my arousal.

“So wet already, baby.” His thumb rubs against my swollen clit once, my pussy clenching in response and a whine falling past my lips.

He bites his lip as he does it again, watching intently almost as if experimenting and seeing if he’ll get the same reaction. He does- my pussy clenches and tightens around nothing and my tender bud begins throbbing. He looks up at me with lust filled eyes.

“I love seeing your pussy beg for me. I’m barely doing anything and you’re already clenching up.”

He presses his thumb down suddenly with increased pressure but holds it still. I arch up and whine out, my heat aching for anything more than what he’s giving me. His free hand roams up my stomach and underneath my shirt, finding my bare breast and toying with my nipple. His thumb remains stagnant and still on my aching clit.

“P-please daddy. Please… more.” I whimper and rock my hips against his touch, moaning as I finally feel relief.

He pulls both hands away quickly, a disappointment filling his expression as he narrows his eyes.

“W-why? I need more.” I pout and reach out for his hands, only for them to be pulled away roughly.

“You wanna get off so bad, huh?” He sits back against the couch. “Do it yourself.”

I suck in a breath, taken aback at his harsh tone. I swallow thickly and bring my own hand down slowly to my heat, shaking slightly as he watches me intently. I begin rubbing slow circles onto my clit, speeding up because my body doesn’t react the same underneath my own touch. I bring my bottom lip between my teeth and close my eyes, trying to imagine it’s Matt’s fingers instead of mine, speeding up and bucking my hips up, desperate for any sort of relief. I keep going and even add a finger, curling it up inside my walls and hoping I’ll feel the euphoria soon.

But I don’t. I let my head fall back in frustration, removing my hands and giving up. I hear him laughing, taking enjoyment out of my struggle.

“Can’t get off without daddy, can you?” I look up as he begins unbuttoning his jeans, a visible bulge straining against the denim.

He pulls them down and keeps his boxers on, his erection still confined beneath the black fabric. He adjusts in his seat, leaning back and opening his legs wider.

“Come on baby. Use my thigh.” He pats his leg and motions his head for me to come over.

I sit up and try to control my shaky breath. Matt’s always been the dominant one, but it’s like something else has taken over, an almost devilish look in his eyes. I position myself onto him, my legs straddled around his right thigh and my pussy hovering above his skin. His hands run up to the hem of my shirt, pushing it up and pulling it over my head. His eyes become half lidded as he drinks in the sight of my exposed chest.

“What are you waiting for, princess? You were so eager a minute ago.” He rasps, his hands settling on my hips and lowering me down to make contact with his leg.

I suck in a breath at the sensation. My mind is buzzing from the alcohol and the arousal, I feel like I’m floating until I focus on the throbbing between my legs. I slowly rock back and forth once, my clit rubbing against his thigh with no resistance, my own arousal lubricating it perfectly. I swear I can see his cock jump beneath his boxers.

I let down all of the weight I’ve been subconsciously holding up off of him, the pressure sending a shockwave through my body as I begin grinding against him. I let out whimpers and moans as I circle my hips, crying out when he lifts his leg higher up to press against me.

“Such a naughty girl getting yourself off on my leg. So desperate that you’ll grind on anything I give you, hm?” He speaks lowly, bringing his arms up behind his head and watching my every move.

I bring my hands down to his chest and run them down until they settle on his abdomen to give myself some stability. My muscles are starting to tire but I keep going, rubbing and grinding against his thigh as my stomach begins to twist into knots. It’s like he knows I’m close to giving up, close to stalling. He begins to bounce his leg over and over, vibrations shooting through my body as his heel comes into contact with the floor roughly.

“F-feels so good, daddy..” I whine out, digging my nails into his shirt and twisting it, needing to do anything to release some of the pleasure flowing through my veins.

His eyes are glossy and dark as his hand comes into contact with his erection, palming it and tightening his grip repeatedly. I watch in awe as his veiny, slender hands work against himself. He pulls his boxers down just enough for his cock to spring up, groaning as he pumps himself. His tip is dripping with precum, swollen and pink with need. He swipes his thumb over his slit to gather it and brings it up to my mouth, rubbing the juice onto my tongue as he presses it into my mouth.

I gain a sudden burst of energy and arousal and begin grinding down against him with everything I can, inching myself closer and closer to release as I watch him jerk his cock underneath me. His free hand reaches up and grasps onto my breast, his large hand encompassing the tissue completely as he kneads the skin. His palm rubs against my taut nipple, sending waves of pleasure shooting through me.

“Come on baby, make a mess on daddy’s thigh,” he encourages, “I won’t get mad as long as you help me clean it up.”

I cry out in pleasure as the knots in my abdomen wind so tightly they snap, the pressure releasing and my thighs shaking as I come apart on his leg. I grind down and my pussy clenches and throbs as my juices leak out onto his skin, his thigh now slick with my release.

“Good girl, that’s it. Such a good job.” He coos and praises, bringing his hand up and stroking my hair as I catch my breath. “Don’t get too comfortable. You’ve got a big mess to clean up.” He motions to the spot where we connect, a sheen of liquid across his skin.

He pushes my shoulders down to encourage me to my knees, and I oblige. I look up at him through my lashes, hesitantly licking a stripe across his leg and tasting myself on him. His hand grips around his cock again, pumping slowly as I kitten lick his thigh.

“Doing such a good job.” he croaks, a moan sneaking it way out.

I continue cleaning up my mess, lapping up all the evidence I had left behind. His motions around his dick become quicker as I pull back for a moment, a string of my arousal shining in the light between my tongue and the skin of his thigh.

His hand stops pumping and comes to lace into my hair, pulling me upwards. I lick up his leg, sitting higher on my knees and trace my tongue up to his base, flattening it all the way to his tip. I take it into my mouth just enough to wrap around his head, sucking lightly and batting my eyes.

“Hmm, don’t even have to be told what to do. Daddy’s precious girl.” He says sweetly while caressing my cheek.

I hum around him and feel my cheeks heat up at the praise. I slowly take more and more of him into my mouth, his droopy eyes watching as I gag at the feeling of his head touching the back of my throat. He smiles in satisfaction, bucking his hips up to elicit the same response once more. My mouth fills with saliva and it drips out and down his length, providing the perfect lubrication for my hand to grip around what I can’t fit into my mouth. I twist my hand around him and his head falls back in pleasure. I bob my head up and down, taking his cock in and out of my mouth as groans fill the room around us.

His cheeks are rosy and his forehead slick with sweat, half from the alcohol warming his body and half from his arousal. He grabs onto his shirt and pulls it over his head, the muscles in his arms and chest flexing deliciously. He wipes the fabric against his forehead before he tosses it to the side, his eyes fixing back onto me with blown pupils.

Both of his hands come down to grip onto my jaw before he disconnects my mouth from his cock, pulling me up with a popping sound. “You’re gonna have to bend over for daddy. Need to feel that tight pussy around me.” His voice is low and commanding, almost rumbling through my chest.

He pulls his boxers the rest of the way down before he grabs my hands, pulling me to my feet as he stands up himself. He turns me around and guides me towards the arm of the couch, pushing me down until my chest is pressed into it.

“Arch up for me,” he instructs, his hands grasping my hips as he helps me get into position for him. “So good at listening to instructions.”

He keeps one hand on my hip to keep me in place as he lines himself up with my entrance, dipping in and out teasingly.

“P-please daddy, I need it.” I speak up, wiggling my ass back and forth in hopes he’ll be convinced.

“Need what, baby?” He taunts, running his tip through my dripping folds until he brushes against my throbbing clit.

“Need… n-need your cock inside of me.”

“Those are such naughty words to be coming out of your sweet little lips..” he chastises and pushes only his head into me. “Tell me more.”

My breath hitches as he gives me another inch, slowly pulling out once again. “F-fuck I… I wanna feel your hands all over me while you fuck me, daddy.”

His hands rub from my ass up to my back leaving a trail of warmth and goosebumps. “Like this? You like when daddy grabs all over you?” He questions, bringing his hands to my hair and making a makeshift ponytail.

I nod and bite my lip to contain my noises as he pulls my head back roughly, bringing his other hand down to smack my ass and rub out the sting. He pushes halfway in and stalls, but I can feel his cock throbbing between my walls.

“You want daddy all you yourself, hm?” He whispers as he releases his grip on my hair and moves his hands down my sides, tracing along my curves before settling on my ass.

“YES! … Y-yes, daddy, please. Wanna be all yours.” I squeal as he bottoms out, his tip brushing against my g-spot.

He starts pumping in and out, his hips slamming against my ass with the depth of his strokes. I reach around desperately, looking for anything I can grip onto. His hands reach down and grab mine, crossing them behind my back and gripping my wrists together with one hand. His other hand squeezes and massages my ass, smacking every now and again to give me small stings of delicious pain.

His thrusts are calculated and controlled as he pounds into me. Our pants fill the air as we inch closer to our climax together, his free hand roaming my body. It’s all slippery and sloppy and animalistic. Lewd, wet sounds echoing into the room and low grumbles escaping his throat.

I feel his dick stiffen to get impossibly hard, twitching and jerking inside of my heat. “F-fuck. Help me out baby.” He croaks as his strokes start to become sloppy.

He releases his grip on my wrist and grabs my hips as I begin meeting his thrusts halfway, throwing my body back against him. My name falls out of his lips over and over in a whisper as his fingers dig into my skin.

“S-so close..” I whine, my head swimming and my stomach clenched.

“Shh.. it’s okay baby. Give it to daddy.” He encourages.

That’s all it takes for me to unravel, my pussy throbbing around him as cries of pleasure sound into the room. He releases alongside me, his warm load spurting into me and filling me up as he continues fucking into me. We continue until we can’t anymore, and he pulls out with a wince.

He pulls my aching body up and spins me around, wrapping his arms around me and placing my head against him. His heart pounds against his chest, so hard I can almost feel it thumping against my ear. Our bodies are sticky and exhausted, but nothing is uncomfortable.

He places a kiss onto my hair, his hot breath fanning down over my shoulders. “Did that tell you what you needed to know?”

I only nod, unable to form words. He pulls back and hooks a finger under my chin to bring my gaze to meet his own. He looks at me intently and comes in to place a lingering, passionate kiss against my lips. When we disconnect he places his forehead against mine and whispers sweet nothings, his soft skin brushing against my still-swollen lips.

He gives me one more kiss. “Let’s go get cleaned up.”

tag list: @lustfulslxt @whotfisade @soursturniolo @recklesssturniolo @lxvlysworld @chrisolivia4l @kiarastromboli @mattnchrisworld @cupidsword @kvtie444 @xplrfear @knowingnothingnoel @karlybbx @chrisfavoritepepsi @mwah0mwah @starsturniolo

[vanteguccir]

https://www.tumblr.com/vanteguccir/756384783004762112/httpswwwtumblrcomvanteguccir7563805398046965

he would love watching edits of you especially if it’s one of your characters in a movie or tv show (especially if it’s a sexual scene on the show/movie) and he would love watching edits of your concerts

SO TRUE ‼️‼️‼️

Chris would for sure spend hours on end watching all the edits your fans made about you and your roles/concerts to a point where his fyp is only you!! He would add all of them in different collections he created on his tiktok, each one of them dedicated to one of your characters, concerts, and just you, yourself!!

Don't even let me start about how he would FOR SURE like and repost ALL of them and even comment on some something cheesy, like "that's my girl right there", "she's a superheroe irl too", "I loved that concert", etc, which would make his and your fans go CRAZY, your ship name would for sure be on the trending topics on Twitter 😭

And the sexy edits? It doesn't matter if it's with one of your co-stars because you always made it very clear to him that you are his and his only, which made him feel super confident, and watching those sexy edits from a role you played makes him feel so hot and turned on. He actually save some of them on a different collection to watch when you're filming in another city/country and not there to satisfy him 🤭🤭🤭

[eroticsturn]

Night Out - C.S

warnings: dom chris, use of ma, nsfw, & public sex

chris has been getting fed up with you lately. all you’ve been doing is being bitchy towards him throughout the whole day as you’ve been treating everyone, including nick and matt, with respect and love. chris has tried communicating with you and apologizing for things he hadn’t done. it all got to the point where chris finally snapped and took matters into his own hands.

“babe, are you ready?”, chris knocks gently on their bedroom door, waiting for a response. after a few seconds of no response, he knocks again but a bit rougher. “y/n, are you ready?”, his voice was a tad more louder and aggressive than usual.

the door opens slightly, giving chris a signal to go in. he walks through the door, sighing in disbelief. “are you serious, y/n?“, his eyes glare right at you through your vanity mirror as you continue to finish up your makeup. “what?”, was all you managed to say before he gave you the stupidest look ever.

“what do you mean ‘what’ ?! you’ve been up here for an hour and a half. the fuck have you been doing during all that time if you aren’t even ready?!”, chris stands behind you, ruffling his hair in frustration while waiting for an explanation.

“i was showering and washing my hair. just doing those two things takes me an hour, you should know this by now”, your attitude frustrates him even more, now getting him to close his eyes and take deep breaths. “babe.. you had all day. all day to wash your hair and shower.. why did you choose to do that two hours before our reservation. we have only 30 more minutes and you aren’t even ready.”

chris tried keeping his voice as soft and collected as possible, not wanting to make the situation worse than it shouldn’t be. you rolled your eyes, now getting up from your seat as you walked right past him. you sway your hips in a certain way, earning a low groan from him in return. “baby.. what are you doing now?..” chris voice was quiet but loud enough for you to hear.

“dressing up, what else does it look like?” you kept your same nasty attitude, smirking to yourself knowing everything you were doing was frustrating him even more than usual. you rolled your shoulders back slowly, letting your robe slide off, revealing your smooth half-naked body. chris bites his bottom lip, looking away as he tries to hold back his temptations to go near you.

mumbles were being heard from chris along with quiet groans as his eyes moved right back to your body. you reached for your black dress, looking back slightly, amused with his reaction. unaware of chris walking behind you, you bent over, reaching for your black heels. you felt two cold hands grip your waist tightly, causing you to gasp from the cold feeling. you tried standing back up but were forcefully pushed back down.

“chris! what are you doing?! i need to get dressed!”, you kept trying to stand back up but chris just kept forcing you back down. “oh now you want to get dressed? too bad”, with his free hand, he slid your underwear down, spreading your legs enough to still keep you standing. with that same hand, he took two of his fingers, now rubbing them onto your soaked clit, causing you to moan in response.

“look at that, you’re already soaked and i didn’t get to even do much yet”, he pushed a finger in, not giving you time to adjust it as he pushed the second one a few seconds later. you whine as he continues to push his fingers deeper. he soon adds another finger which makes you gasp at the feeling of your core being stretched out. he slowly pushes them in and out, teasing you as much as he possibly could.

“chris, please go faster” you whine out impatiently and push your hips back to please your desires. “you haven’t been a good girl ma. why should i give you what you want?” he says as he slowly pulls his fingers out from you, you hiss at the missed contact. he backs up and straightens you out walks over to your bed, and lays against the headboard while pulling out his phone.

you were baffled by his actions but tried not to let it affect you since you guys were going out soon anyway. suddenly nick knocks on the door to let you guys know that it’s time to leave. you add your finishing touches and walk to the van. chris then announces that he wants to sit in the back with you. luckily his brothers don’t question it, as soon as the car starts moving chris puts his hand on your thigh. you try to ignore it as much as you possibly can until he slides his hand closer to your heat. you quietly gasp and immediately glare at him. he just stares at his phone while he slides his fingers under your dress.

he moves your panties to the side and lightly brush his fingers against your clit. at this point, you’re dripping needing more for him. you bite your lip and grip his knee tightly, desperate for more. you rock your hips forward a bit in hopes that his finger slides in. he harshly pushes his finger in and starts at an agonizingly slow pace. nick then snaps you out of your trance, “y/n? did you hear me?”. “hm? i’m sorry, i was zoned out” you say trying to keep your composure. you didn’t want to make it obvious that his brother had his fingers all up in you. nick continues what he is saying, chris then adds another finger and speeds up his actions. leaving you to gasp loudly, both nick and matt snap their heads up at you with concerned looks in their faces.

“s-sorry, i’m just having cramps” you mutter out, chris tries to hide his smirk from showing. he immediately pulls his fingers out once he realizes that they’ve arrived at the restaurant. you’re slightly annoyed with the fact that he just left you all horny. you needed him so badly and you could tell that he needed you just as badly as you needed him. you all make your way to the table and sit down, you and chris are sitting across from nick and matt. chris then looks down at his phone and starts typing. you pay no mind to sit until you feel your phone vibrate, you look down at all and see a text from chris saying to go to the bathroom. you excuse yourself and make your way to the bathroom.

a couple of minutes pass by and chris knocks on the door, you open it and he pushes you back quickly. just to make sure no one saw you both in there. “we’re gonna have to make this quick ma. i told them you’re not feeling well.” he whispers as he pushes your hair away from your face. he instantly showers your neck with kisses. he starts to suck and lick the spot under your ear which results in you whining and pushing up against him. he groans as his bulge is starting to show. he moves his lips up to kiss you on the lips.

which quickly turns into a makeout session, your tounges fighting for dominance. he lowers his hands to grip your ass, and you gasp at the feeling. you both pull away and he looks at you with lust in his eyes. you get turned on just by seeing this look on his face. he turns you around and bends you over the sink pulling your dress up. “i want you to watch me fuck you like the good slut you are. got it?” he pants while looking at your dripping core. “chris please hurry! we don’t have that much time” you whine while staring at him through the mirror. he pulls his pants down and pushes you forward a bit.

he thrusts hard into you without giving you time to adjust to his length. “oh fuckkk” he groans while throwing his head back. he’s thrusting at an unbearable speed. “mmm chris go faster” you say while trying to keep quiet. “you’re so fucking tight ma. i’m about to cum just by the pretty noises you make. you’re such a good girl” he praises. he has one hand on your hip holding you up and the other on your clit rubbing quickly to get you closer to your climax. “oh my god! chris don’t stop” you say while your head falls onto the sink in front of you. he grips your hair and pulls you back up to look at yourself in the mirror again, “keep your head up and stay quiet” he mumbles.

you try to keep yourself quiet, but you just can’t. he picked you up by one hand and pulled you closer to his chest. your backs are now touching and he removes his hand from your clit to cover your mouth. “baby, you need to be quiet. you don’t everyone to hear how much of a slut you are for me. do you?” he whispers in your ear. all you can do is moan against his hand. barely can form any sentences. you start to clench against his dick letting him know that you were close. “let it out baby, im right here. give it to me.” right on queue you cum.

he thrusts a few times before he pumps his cum all in your insides. “fuck baby, you did so good for me” he groans. he thrusts up a couple more times to ride out his high. which makes you whine at the feeling of being overstimulated. he moves his hand from your mouth and slowly pulls his dick out. the cum leaking down your legs, he pushes it back in your core. he turns you around and pushes you back to the sink. he then reaches over to grab some paper towels, he cleans the mess you both made on your legs. he softly pulls your dress back down and kisses you on your forehead, “you okay ma?” he states while brushing some hair out of your face. “mhm, just tired” you say softly.

he interlocks your fingers with his and you both make your way back to the table. to your surprise, his parents are also there. “y/n! are you okay sweetheart? nick told us you weren’t feeling well” their mom states with concern in her voice. chris answers before you can “i think we’re just going to take an uber home. she’s still not feeling well”. everyone looks at you with concerned looks on their faces and say their goodbyes. you and chris walk away from the table and wait outside for the uber. “do you want me to run you a bath once we get home baby?” he states while looking at you. “could we cuddle after?” you say, he smiles and says of course.

- M

[light-yaers]

Take Care: Chapter Two

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes. 

A/N: I couldn’t wait. I wanted to get the ball rolling more before I slowed down, so here’s the second chapter for you all! Mwah

Word count: 7k+

Chapter Two

Well, Chris. That was certainly a disappointing start to the season for Richmond.

Indeed, Arlo. Arsenal were all over them. It seems that new coach Ted Lasso’s tactics aren’t cutting it just yet.

I think that’s probably unsurprising, especially from him being a NFL coach in the States before this. Have Richmond bitten off more than they can chew, do you think, Chris?

I don’t know, Arlo. But without Jamie Tartt the team wouldn’t have clinched even one goal, so I hope Lasso knows to utilise the young striker a lot more.

Very right, Chris.

I’m always right, Arlo.

That’s debatable, Chris. Remember the prediction of 2004?

We don’t talk about the prediction of 2004, Arlo. I told you that in confidence.

Defeat settled around the stadium. As far as first ever football games went, yours had gone to shit. The guys had played to oblivion, but Arsenal had been better. You sat in the box next to Keeley, feeling the commiserations from the home crowd. They would go home in a sulk, for sure, and you didn’t blame them. You were feeling it yourself, even, despite all that you didn’t know about the sport.

You and Keeley left the owner’s box together, heading down the stairs. You went to take a left, heading for the car park, when Keeley stopped you gently. “What, going home already?”

“Is that not a normal thing to do after a game is over?” you asked.

Keeley snorted. “Not today. It’s Sam’s birthday, you wally. I’m driving Jamie home, too. So come on! Don’t be another debbie-downer from the crowd.”

You followed her down another set of stairs, headed for the locker room. As you approached, you could hear Coach Lasso. He blasted an optimistic pep talk to his guys, but if you’d been sitting in that room after a 3-1 loss, you wouldn’t want to hear it personally.

Keeley turned the corner first, as you whispered behind her not to interrupt. She rolled her eyes at you, entering the locker room and leaving you outside. You let out an annoyed sigh, bobbing on the spot with anxiety, before you finally plucked up the courage to show yourself.

“Hard luck, boys,” Keeley said first, going to sit upon Jamie’s lap.

You emerged in the doorway, arms crossed. To your surprise, the sunken faces of a few players perked up at your arrival. Isaac sat up straighter when he saw you, as did Sam. They both sent you small smiles through their frowns of defeat.

“Well, hey!” Ted said. “Good of you to join us.” He gently squeezed your shoulder, showing you it was okay to come in.

You sent a look of sympathy around the room as you entered, before your gaze fell upon that of a dishevelled Roy Kent. “Sorry about the loss, guys,” you said, not knowing what else to add.

“It’s a shame,” Sam began. “This was your first football match, was it not?”

A collective groan went around the room, only making you feel worse. You raised your hands defensively, widening your eyes. “No, no, don’t feel bad!” you let out, panicking. “Listen, it’s taken me my whole life to watch a football game, alright? And despite the outcome of this one, I wouldn’t change it for the world.” Your gaze skimmed Roy’s again, and you pooled all your genuine feelings within that one look. He sighed heavily, but some tension was relieved from his shoulders.

“Well said,” Ted spoke up. “I know this isn’t the outcome we all wanted, but we take it in our stride, and we move on. Besides, we have a cake to eat for Sam’s birthday here!” he exclaimed. Isaac clapped Sam on the back, and a few smiles trickled around the locker room. “So, grab a slice, get some sugar back in your systems, and let’s do better next time.”

You stayed with the guys in celebration, as Coach Beard pumped some tunes into the locker room. Jamie was the only one who stayed visibly pissed off. Keeley jumped off his lap as he grabbed his bag, leaving the room with her on his tail closely.

You watched them leave, but couldn’t stay on them for long. Ted shoved a plate of cake into your hands, taking you by surprise. The guys milled around too, coming up to ask about the match and what you made of it. You hated to admit it, but this was nice. This was the first time you felt properly involved with the team, despite Isaac’s birthday the week before. That hadn’t felt as familiar, but this did. These were people you knew now, in all their boyish glory.

You sat down in the middle of the room, on the central island. You listened to Colin’s jokes, and Richard’s stories from back home in France. Sam opened a few stray presents that had appeared in his cubby over the course of the day. What had you constantly turning your head, however, was Roy Kent.

He sat by his cubby, sorting through his things silently, a plate of cake untouched by his side. You had the urge to go and sit next to him, but you didn’t know the reason for it. There was a huge sense of respect for Roy within the walls of this stadium, but when it came to socialising, Roy usually sat out. You set down your own slice of cake, standing up abruptly in the middle of a story by Bumbercatch. You headed for Roy, and sat down next to him before he could protest. You crossed your legs and leaned back into the cubby next to him, crossing your arms comfortably. Roy stopped sorting his things, just to look at you for a moment, before he continued.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“No,” you said, leaving it vague. “Was just wondering why you had an aversion to your teammates being social, is all.”

Roy rolled his eyes and let out a sound between a groan and a growl. It was like a mid-ground. “I don’t have a fucking– aversion– to social events with the team.”

You shrugged. “Okay.”

Roy froze. “I don’t.”

You shrugged again, more aggressively. “I agreed with you.”

“Yeah, but you’re fucking lying. You think I avoid them.”

“I don’t think you do. You do avoid them.”

“Oh,” he looked at you like he’d just stood in dogshit. “Just– fuck off– with your assumptions, and your–” he waved his hand in front of his face, then in front of yours. “Your fucking face.”

You scoffed. “My face?”

“You always look like you know something about me,” he said. “It creeps me the fuck out.”

You raised your hands defensively. “Sorry,” you said. “I can’t help the way my face looks, unfortunately.”

Roy dropped his gaze to the floor. “You know that’s also not what I fucking meant.”

“Was it?” you said, but by this point you were fully fucking with him. You found it enjoyable, especially since you’d squashed your beef, to play with him more. He nibbled on every joke, every dig, that it was impossible to stop making them.

“I– fucking hell–” Roy looked back at you, and you let out a proper laugh.

“I’m fucking with you, Roy. Jesus, don’t worry,” you said, gently resting your hand upon his thigh without thinking. You only noticed when he stopped to look down at your knuckles; that’s when you realised his bare skin was practically burning a hole through your palm.

You took your hand off him, placing it in your lap quickly. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll leave you be,” you said, genuinely, before you stood. “I know it’s shit, by the way. Losing,” you said, with your back turned to him, before you twisted yourself to peer down at him. “But I meant it. I wouldn’t change this being my first football match for the world.”

Roy took in your words, letting out a soft sigh through his nose. He nodded. “Thank you,” he let out softly. You smiled at him, before you finally left him alone.

Days became more routine. You’d walk to work, grab a coffee on the way, say hello to the boys upon your arrival, before settling into your office. When you weren’t working on articles or website updates, you were looking up football facts, or writing your own novel. Your days at the Dogtrack had become something you were fond of, especially now that you weren’t strangers with anyone there anymore.

Sometimes, Sam would pop his head around the door of your office, and you’d have a catch up about books. You’d been recommending reads to one another for a few weeks now, each of you bringing in books from your own personal libraries for the other to read. It was like a mini book-club of sorts. That, and you just enjoyed the company of Sam Obisanya. He was younger than you, but felt wise beyond his years. You think you latched onto one another from how foreign everything felt– he was in a completely new country, while you were in an utterly new industry. Both of you felt like fishes out of water, sometimes.

You’d become closer with Ted, too, for that very same reason. Between you, your combined knowledge of football was practically comical. God forbid anyone asked either of you to explain the off-side rule, or a handball violation. Beard was an enigma of a man, and someone you didn’t mean to avoid, but just ended up doing. But, with more matches being played and lost, team morale was at an all time fucking low. You could sense it every time you entered the locker room after a long day of training, or decided to join the guys after their Saturday match days. You could never do what they did– all that losing would kill you off before you’d even make it to a win. That was why you took it upon yourself to try and cheer them up in the ways that you could.

You didn’t pity them or stroke their egos. You sat with them, and you listened. Sure, you had no fucking clue what they were saying when they mentioned 4-4-2 layouts, or a football kicking manoeuvre, but still you listened. Sometimes, that was all they needed. It seemed to be helping, and you didn’t mind spending more time with the guys when they simply needed it.

That’s what led you to join them after training one Tuesday, but morale was certainly higher than you’d been expecting. You entered the locker room with a smile, giving Colin a high five upon your arrival. Sam and four others were talking enthusiastically in the corner, and you perked your brow.

“What are they talking about, Colin?” you asked, as Colin pulled on one of his trainers.

“The charity ball. They’re talking about their plus ones, I think.”

“A charity ball?” you asked, peering down at him.

“You don’t know about the ball?” Colin asked back, and you shook your head. He stood abruptly then, clapping the boys to attention. “Guys! This one doesn’t know about the charity ball!”

His alert led the guys to erupt in several different conversations. It was far too much for you to take in, so you raised your hands and let out a chuckle. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, one at a fucking time.”

The room dulled to a stable level. Sam took the lead. “The charity ball is Richmond’s event of the season. Celebrities, cameras, lights, a special performance from a musical artist, all for charity.”

“Musical artist?” you said.

“This year it’s Robbie Williams!” Colin exclaimed, prompting the room to go back to roaring.

You looked to your right and hit Roy’s wandering gaze. He winced at the volume in the room, before he inhaled deeply. “Hey!” he yelled suddenly, shutting the guys down. “I can’t hear myself not think. Also, I fucking hate Robbie Williams.”

“Are you going this year, Roy?” Colin asked.

“‘Course, I’m going. There’s booze, isn’t there?” he said, and all of the guys nodded in agreement.

“We’re just talking about our plus ones,” Sam spoke to you again. “Richard just landed himself a Victoria Secret model.”

“Fucking hell,” you let out, suddenly feeling the smallest bit insecure. It was like you forgot the guys were big name footballers, and when you were reminded of that fact it hit you like a suckerpunch, sometimes. “Good on you, Richard.”

Richard nodded, sat on the bench by his cubby. “She has a kind heart. And, she is smoking hot.”

You smiled awkwardly. “Brilliant,” you muttered.

“Are you not coming?” Sam asked, strolling towards you. “You are part of Richmond now, are you not?”

“Well, considering I didn’t know about it until now, I guess Rebecca hasn’t factored me in. When is it?”

“On Friday,” Colin said.

You winced. “Yeah. I’ve definitely been left off this guestlist.”

Almost immediately, the boys started groaning. They slapped their hands on their thighs and stood up with annoyance. They wanted you to come, and it made your heart warm, definitely, but there was probably nothing you could do.

“I think we all have plus ones now, sadly,” Sam said. He placed his hand over his heart. “Otherwise, I would have taken you as my date in a heartbeat.”

“No, no, I would’ve, bruv.” Isaac chimed in. As if on cue, all of the boys went around the room and reassured you that they would have taken you.

You inhaled deeply and smiled so genuinely that you had to tell yourself to stop. They did this to you often, made you feel special, and welcome, and all of the things that you thought you wouldn’t feel on your placement here. They were kind.

You raised your hands again, trying to calm them down. “Guys, guys! Thank you, all of you. I appreciate you all saying you’d bring me, but it’s fine. I’m grateful for the gesture, anyway.” They nodded at you, all smiling their winning grins, before they went back to packing their bags. “Well, I’ll be off then. See you all tomorrow!” you announced.

“Wait a fucking minute,” Roy said, and the room dropped to silence once more. You halted immediately, turning back to meet his eye. “I don’t have a plus one.”

In the corner of your eye, Sam’s eyes widened. Isaac’s jaw dropped open. Colin’s eyes darted between you and Roy like a tennis match.

You held onto the strap of your tote bag tightly, until your knuckles turned white. “Oh.” You tried to say it nonchalantly, but it came out statically, timidly. You hated the sound you just made so bad that it was a miracle you didn’t melt from your own embarrassment.

“So?” Roy asked.

“So…?” you repeated awkwardly.

“Do you want to be my fucking date or what?” he let out. “They’re right. You’re part of this club. You should get to join us.”

You looked around the room for approval, but it was then that you realised, if he’d only asked you in a different setting, you wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes. It was the pressure of all the guys around you that made it all the more worse. You knew Roy meant it as a kind gesture, not as anything more, but it was still easy for your heart to start pulsing harder beneath your ribcage.

You smiled bashfully, trying to play it off as nothing more. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Great,” Roy boomed, picking up his gym bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “I’ll pick you up.” He stepped towards you, headed for the door.

You scoffed. “You don’t have to do that. I can meet you there, or something.”

Roy peered down at you sternly. “I’ll pick you up,” he repeated.

“Okay,” you said timidly, giving in fast.

Roy left without another word, leaving you in the locker room. The guys stood around you with gobsmacked expressions, but one glance at them unlocked them from being statues. They went back to their prior conversations, with an underlying hubbub of gossip about what they’d just witnessed.

You left the stadium with two thoughts littering your mind. One, you had no idea what to fucking wear, and two– Roy fucking Kent had just asked you to be his date to the Richmond charity ball.

On the walk home, you called Keeley.

She picked up fast. “Hey babes, you okay?”

“Hey. Yeah, I’m okay. I do have a favour to ask of you, though,” you said.

“Okay, fire away!”

“I need an outfit for the Richmond charity ball,” you announced.

“I was wondering if you were coming! Leaving it pretty close, though, babe.”

“Yeah, well.” You sighed, knowing that Keeley would take the news the wrong way, but still you persisted. “I wasn’t invited explicitly, but Roy just asked me to come as his plus one.”

Keeley squealed like a crying baby. You held your phone away from your face, wincing in pain, until her shrill screams stopped. “Are you finished?” you asked.

“What the actual fuck!” she exclaimed. “This is just like that trope that everyone loves on Twitter.” She clicked her fingers impatiently, trying to remember. “Enemies to lovers!”

You scoffed immediately. “Please, Keeley, you’re making me feel a bit ill. It’s nothing like that. And besides…” You fiddled with your fingernails. “Roy and I would definitely be enemies to friends to lovers, first,” you added quickly. Keeley squealed again, and you winced once more. “Okay, okay!” you yelled. “Back on track. I need an outfit, and I desperately need your help.”

“Lunch break, tomorrow. I’ll pick you up,” she said, and you couldn’t help but smile. “This one’s on me, too, babes. I know MA students aren’t exactly dripping in gold.”

You sighed, but you couldn’t help the warm pang that raced through your chest. You really had some great people around you. A month into this placement and it had already exceeded your expectations. Even Rebecca had started warming to you, of all people.

“Thanks, Keeley,” you said genuinely. You could practically feel her golden smile radiating through the phone.

You worked non-stop the next morning, too anxious to stop for even a second. Right before lunch, Rebecca made an unexpected visit to your office. You were mid sip of a cup of tea, and almost choked on it when she knocked on your door and popped her head around the frame.

“Oh, sorry, have I caught you at a bad time?” she said, and you forced yourself to swallow.

You shook your head quickly, panicking. “No,” you croaked, then cleared your throat. “No,” you said, normally. “What can I do for you, Rebecca?”

“Well, I assume you read Trent Crimm’s article about Ted in the Independent,” she said, stepping inside and sitting opposite you. She crossed her legs, and for a moment you were mesmerised at how long her legs actually were.

“Yes, yes I did,” you said, looking at her face, finally. “It was a great article, one that showed off Ted’s true colours, I felt.”

Rebecca’s face flattened slightly. “Yes. Brilliant, wasn’t it. Anyway– I was wondering if you could write something about me.”

You froze, overcome by the overexcited beat of your heart. “Oh?” you managed to get out.

“Nothing major,” Rebecca said, waving at you with reassurance. “Just something for the website, nothing for the tabloids, you know. We all know what they write about me, already.” She fiddled with her perfectly done manicure as she spoke, before she cleared her throat and looked back up at you. “I just thought it might be a nice idea, since my name has been in every paper for months now, having something to do with the club instead of my failed marriage, is all.”

You sighed at her warmly, relaxing finally. “I’d love to write something for you, Rebecca,” you said with a smile. “Though, I’m not really an article writer, just as a warning. More fiction, more novels.”

“I thought your player profiles on the website were incredibly well written,” she said plainly.

Your eyes widened, and she mimicked you, but with a smile on her face all the same. “Oh, thank you,” you let out. “I’ll do it, then!” you agreed.

Rebecca smiled. “Fantastic!” She matched your energy. You shared a few peaceful moments together, which you latched onto after her aversion to you in the very beginning, but you were cut off when you looked at the time.

“Oh, fuck,” you muttered, grabbing your bag quicky. “Sorry, Rebecca. I actually have lunch plans for once.”

Rebecca followed you in standing. “Oh? A date?”

You scoffed. “No, no. Keeley is taking me shopping before the charity ball.”

“Oh, fuck!” Rebecca exclaimed abruptly, making you jump. “I didn’t invite you, did I? Oh, fucking hell, I’m so sorry, darling.”

“It’s okay!” you reassured her, as the two of you left your office. “Roy’s taking me as his plus one, so it’s no trouble anyway.”

Rebecca stopped in the hallway. “Roy’s taking you as his plus one?”

You stared at her bluntly, overly annoyed about the reaction that that simple sentence had garnered over the past few days. You fucking wished Roy had asked you in private, for fucks sake.

“Yes,” you said plainly, annoyed.

Rebecca was taken aback by your bluntness. “Oh. Well, how lovely,” she said.

“I desperately need an outfit, and Keeley is my only hope,” you continued, heading up the stairs to the second floor together.

“Oh, well, now that you’ve said it actually, could I join you?” Rebecca asked. You flicked your gaze onto her, noting the soft way her brows were furrowed in question. You weren’t used to her being so adamant to actually hang out with you, but you weren’t about to exclude her.

“Of course!” you said. “I’m meeting Keeley in the car park, I’ll tell her to wait for you.”

Rebecca nodded in thanks, as the two of you parted ways on the final step. You headed towards the car park to the right, while she sped in her heels to the left, all the way down the corridor and up the stairs, to grab her bag from her office.

Your lunch break turned into a lunch day, but Rebecca didn’t seem to give a shit. The three of you went into several different fashion establishments, none of which you’d fucking heard of. Keeley asked you what you wanted, and what ‘vibe’ fit you, but you had no fucking clue. You’d been in the football world for a month, and you’d already had to branch out and act like someone from a much higher tax bracket. It was exhausting.

As you changed in a dressing room for the thousandth time, Keeley and Rebecca poured all of you a glass of complimentary champagne. You struggled with the straps of this latest number– some sci-fi looking dress where you looked more like a Dalek than a princess.

“How are you getting on in there?” Rebecca yelled from behind the curtain.

“I’m–” You struggled to zip yourself up, feeling like nothing but a sack of tomatoes under some tarp than someone remotely attractive. “I’m… trying. But, this one doesn’t feel like it’s for me!” you yelled back.

“Hmm.” Keeley hummed, standing up and downing her drink. She placed the glass down and headed towards a new rack, full of black jumpsuits. “What’s Roy’s favourite colour?”

“Black!” you and Rebecca yelled simultaneously. “But, we’re not matching or anything,” you added. “He just got me an invite to the ball itself, it’s not a date situation.”

“Isn’t he picking you up?” Rebecca asked.

You shoved your head out of the dressing room, flustered. “That was his idea. It wasn’t up to me.”

“So, maybe he thinks it’s a date, but you don’t,” Rebecca suggested.

You let out a frustrated huff. “God, can we just– not– talk about Roy for once? It’s been constant today, ever since he announced it in the locker room. It’s deeply annoying.”

Keeley grabbed a jumpsuit off the rack, bringing it over to the dressing room. “I don’t know, babe. Seems to me like you’re the one who’s pissed about it all. It’s just a bit fun, ain’t it?”

“Exactly!” you yelled, sticking your hand out to grab the garment from her. “Which is why I hate how much everyone is overreacting about it.”

“Who’s overreacting about it?” Keeley asked.

You stuck your head out of the curtain again, red in the face. “You squealed at me down the phone, Keeley! And Rebecca, you yelled in the hallway! I called my mother last night and she started crying when I told her.”

Rebecca and Keeley winced at you. “Sorry,” Keeley said.

“Apologies,” Rebecca added. “It’s just that, well, I don’t think anyone ever expects Roy to actually be a gentleman.”

You slipped on the jumpsuit that Keeley handed you, and looked at yourself in the mirror afterwards. To your surprise, it was good. It reminded you of the jumpsuit from Fleabag, a bit of cleavage shown off, just to make it sweet.

“I don’t get that,” you started, ruffling up your hair into something semi-presentable. “Roy is a bit of a gentleman. He went to my lecturer and explained that he’d been an arsehole, and ultimately got me the grade I deserved. He drove me home a few weeks ago, too. And, yeah, he gave up his plus one spot for me which was… sort of sweet, I suppose” You twisted yourself in the mirror, happy with the reflection you saw.

You pulled open the curtain and stepped out of the dressing room. “So, yeah, I’d say he is a gentleman.” You turned to Keeley and Rebecca, and both of them were frozen to their spots. You were taken aback by their wide-eyed and open mouthed expressions. “What… is it too much?” you asked, peering down at your body.

“It’s perfect,” Rebecca said, in awe of you.

“I think Roy fancies you,” Keeley said, biting at her fake nails.

You let out a colossal sigh, turning around to look at yourself in the mirror again. You couldn’t be bothered to keep looking, not when you felt great in something you’d tried on, finally. You had Rebecca’s seal of approval, too, which was absolutely good enough for you.

“This is the one,” you said, turning to the retail worker. “I’ll take it.”

By Friday, things had settled down. If it weren’t for your stern glares at the guys when they teased you, then they would have only continued, but you made yourself clear. You didn’t want to be hassled about this, and you definitely knew that Roy wouldn’t want it, either. You suspected he was already regretting his choice to bring you along with him.

Despite your clear annoyance over the past few days, the atmosphere at the Dogtrack was nothing but great. Training had gone well, with Ted and Beard finally making progress with the team. Rebecca had eased up even more, actually inviting you to join her for lunch the day after she helped you pick your ball attire. On Thursday, you played Cluedo with Higgins, and on Friday, you walked in on the coaches during one of their… special meetings.

You were alerted to them from the abrupt barking, but the noises were unmistakably coming from humans instead of dogs. Hearing the noise all the way from your office, you made your way down the corridor to the locker room. You kept close to the wall as you entered, knowing that Ted and Beard were in the manager’s office, but they weren’t alone. Higgins and Nate were with them, too, and it seemed that all of them had contributed towards the various barks.

“Well, gentlemen, it seems all of us have our wits about us this time around,” Ted announced, in his classic southern drawl.

“Ah, ah, ah, wait,” Higgins added. “I know we formed this group for the balance of men having each other’s backs emotionally, but does that stop us from expanding?”

“Expanding?” Nate asked.

“Further afield,” Higgins said. “You know, like gossiping.”

Ted and Beard gasped. “Well, Higgins, that might just stir a pot that doesn’t need stirring. The kind that your mom stands over the stove with for hours, you know? And as soon as she takes a break, and tells you not to touch it, what do you do? You touch it. And whatever custard or queso or sauce she’s making curdles.”

Higgins deflated a little. “I guess you’re right.”

There was a moment of silence, before Ted perked up again. “But, just because of the unhelped curiosity of man, what was it that you wanted to expand upon?”

You leaned against the wall outside, right next to the manager’s door. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t stop listening. It was infectious and impossible not to want more. Slowly, you leaned even closer.

Higgins cleared his throat. “There is a rumour circulating these halls…” You held your breath, wondering what tea was about to be spilled. “Roy Kent’s plus one for the charity ball has been filled.”

Ted, Beard and Nate all gasped. All semblance of cool that you had turned red immediately.

Without hesitation, you stomped your boots upon the ground like a spoiled child. “Fucks sake!” you yelled suddenly, before you quickly revealed yourself in the manager’s office doorway. The men inside looked immediately shaken, clutching onto their hearts like they were scared they’d jump out of their chests. You huffed from frustration. “It’s not a big deal!”

“Oh, hey!” Ted exclaimed, taking his hand away from his heart. “God, you gave us one heck of a fright.”

“Are you Roy’s plus one?” Higgins returned to the conversation at hand.

You leaned against the doorway, defeated. “Yes. And at this point, I wish I fucking wasn’t.”

“Hey now,” Ted said gently. “Is this what this rumour is, huh? That you’re Roy’s date to the charity ball?”

You shrugged. “It’s been constant this week. I’m surprised you all didn’t hear about it sooner, to be honest.”

“I did,” Beard chimed in. All eyes in the room fell on him, but he didn’t elaborate.

“Great,” you said plainly, before you turned back to the others. “It’s not like it’s a huge thing, or something so out there that it should be discussed. I feel like everyone’s been, I don’t know, whispering about it over the past few days. Keeley squealed at me. Rebecca yelled in my face. My own mother cried.”

All the men in the room winced in unison.

“Can I be completely honest with you all?” you asked suddenly, and as if on cue all the guys stood up straight. Immediately, they started making barking noises and whimpering like dogs, as if they were a gaggle of drama students. “Jesus fucking Christ,” you muttered in response.

“This is a safe space. Speak your mind as much as you wish,” Ted explained.

“Well,” you started, letting out a stress filled sigh. “First of all, he asked me in front of the entire locker room. From the get-go it’s been made out to be a bigger thing than it needed to be, you know? And after that, everyone started acting like it was huge! Like it was so out there that Roy fucking Kent asked the bloody social placement, of all people, to go with him to the charity ball. Rebecca said that it’s because no one expects Roy to be a gentleman, but I know he is one, so that doesn’t exactly make sense to me.”

“So, what you’re saying is, it makes it seem like it’s a huge deal because it’s you and him, instead of just him?” Nate offered.

You widened your eyes at him, nodding in agreement. “Exactly that. It just… makes me feel a bit shit. Like I wasn’t an option that anyone would expect him to pick. Which is fucking stupid because, God, it’s really not a big deal.”

“It’s been blown out of proportion, you mean?” Higgins asked.

You nodded again. “Massively.”

“And that’s frustrating you because it makes you feel judged?” Ted joined in.

You nodded again. “Yep.”

The room fell silent for a moment. It was almost suffocating, alongside the stares of four pairs of eyes landing on you all at once. You felt like a child, it was true, but you couldn’t deny how much this entire ordeal had got to you. You wished people would leave it, wished they’d stop fucking talking about it like it was some huge revelation.

Beard cleared his throat. “You need to fucking own it.”

You snapped your stare onto him instantly. “Excuse me?”

“Own it!” he exclaimed again. “If this is really bothering you, don’t let people know that you care. Stomping your feet about it and getting flustered will only perpetuate their reactions.”

“Are you really saying that my mother crying to me is my fault?”

Ted took the reins. “Not that.” He shook his head. “That’s all on her.”

“When you show up tonight next to Roy, act like you belong there,” Beard continued, leaning forward in his chair to look at you fully. “Because you do belong. You’re part of this club, and the guys all wanted you at the ball in the first place. Don’t let them rattle you.”

You furrowed your brows at him. “How do you know all this?”

Beard leaned back, propping his legs up on the desk casually. “I was in here when Roy asked you to be his date.”

“Ahaaa, so it is a date,” Higgins said, but was promptly shut down by all sets of eyes glaring at him to oblivion. “Sorry. Gossiping is an addiction that I cannot seem to shake, no matter how hard I try.”

“So, I should own it?” You kept the conversation on track. Beard, Ted and Nate all nodded in agreement. “Okay, yeah. You’re right. Fuck it all, right? I’m part of this team, and I deserve Roy Kent’s plus one the same as anyone else.”

“That’s it!” Ted exclaimed, before turning to the rest of the guys. “Well, that was another successful visitor pass discussion. Diamond Dogs, out!” The four of them all went back to barking like dogs, only made worse by Ted and Nate sticking out their tongues, as if they were lapping up water.

“Okay, I’m leaving,” you said quickly, immediately turning on your heels to get the fuck out of there.

As you walked back to your office, you took their advice on board. Was it really that simple, just to own it? Act like you belonged, act like it was just another normal fucking day at AFC Richmond? You sighed when you reached your door, knocking your knuckles against the wood of the door frame. It was sturdy, same as the rest of the stadium walls and floors, and you would be, too.

You wouldn’t let this ball phase you, wouldn’t freak out about the guys’ reactions, about Keeley and Rebecca’s, and certainly not your fucking mother’s. You’d be hard as nails when you got into Roy Kent’s Jeep, as the two of you pulled up to the venue. You’d smile for the cameras, be comfortable on Roy’s arm as you walked in, and have a brilliant fucking night.

Nothing would go wrong. Nothing.

Roy pulled up outside your door and honked his horn once, twice, three times. He figured that would be enough to get your attention. He fiddled with his tie as he sat behind the wheel, tapping his car's leather interior as he waited for you to open your front door and jump into the passenger seat next to him.

Little did he know, but you’d made the unwise decision to Google the Richmond charity ball while you were getting ready, only to see the prestigious guestlist. It was celebrities galore, millionaires, billionaires, but no MA students who’d been shoved into the club as a last resort. You took back everything you’d said about feeling bad about being Roy’s plus one– you weren’t one of these people, and that was fucking adament by the hoards of paparazzi, and thousands of pounds donated.

Roy honked his horn again, and you flinched on the floor of your bathroom. You leaned against the door, trying and failing to calm down the anxiety that raced within your bones. Roy honked again, and you found yourself groaning. “I can hear you, Roy!” you yelled, knowing that he couldn’t hear you back. “Fucks sake.” You fumbled as you grabbed your phone from beside the sink.

You unlocked it and went to texts, putting in Roy’s name at the top. Your eyes skimmed the last message you sent– the one about your assignment. You still had no idea if he had you blocked, or if other circumstances had kept him away from his phone at that time, but that didn’t stop you from texting him now.

Having a fucking nervy-b. Two minutes.

Roy’s phone pinged suddenly, and he shuffled it out of his inside jacket pocket. It was an unsaved number, but he knew it was you as soon as he opened the message up. Not just from the timings, but from the previous message that he didn’t recall getting at all.

This was for my degree, my first assignment is due on Sunday. It’ll be incomplete without you.

Roy’s eyes widened. “Fuuuuuuck,” he let out coarsely. He reread both messages, over and over again, before he made the decision to kill his engine.

He jumped out of his Jeep, slamming the driver’s side door shut behind him. He hopped onto the pavement and climbed the steps to your front door. He didn’t hesitate knocking with his knuckles, loudly. The banging reverberated throughout your ground floor flat, startling you as you sat in the bathroom. When the banging didn’t stop, you let out another frustrated groan. You had no choice but to let him in, and get over this small mishap that had got you so inside your own head.

You shuffled your way to your front door and clicked the intercom that came with it. “Can I help you?”

“What the fuck is a nervy-b?” Roy replied through the static.

You bonked your head down against your front door, hating yourself for ever writing a message without thinking. “I’m– it’s–” you stuttered, but there was no good way to say it. “Just come in. I’ll be ready soon.” You buzzed him in, and Roy entered through the main door into your building. From there, you unlatched the lock on your front door and kicked it open for him, before retreating to the comfort of your kitchen.

Roy closed the door behind him, breathing in deeply as he took in his surroundings. Your flat was dainty, but oddly comforting. It reminded him of the flat he had when he first joined Chelsea, all those years before. Albeit, yours was certainly cleaner and tidier, but it still left him with a fond feeling. He stepped further inside, catching a glimpse of you in the kitchen to the right.

“Hey,” he let out, crossing the threshold to approach you. “You alright?” he asked.

You leaned against the counter top, shoulders high and tense, with your back turned to him. “I’m good.” You lied.

Roy arched his brow at you. “I’m not quite sure I believe you.”

“It’s fine!” you exclaimed, before you finally turned to him. “Beard said to own it, so that’s exactly what I’m going to fucking do. None of it fucking matters anyway!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Roy took a step closer.

“This! I mean, I’m not a celebrity, I know fuck all about football, and had to get Keeley to help me pick out this fucking outfit, but I’m still going to own it.” You wondered, if you kept lying to yourself, would it finally stick? “Right?” you asked Roy.

He raised his hands slowly, gently. “I finally understand the meaning of nervy-b,” he said lowly.

You furrowed your brows at him in gentle pleading, before you dropped your head into your hands. “I fucking hate Google,” you said, your voice muffled through your fingers.

Roy took a moment to regard you, finally understanding what it was that was getting to you. He could understand why. As a professional footballer himself, a showboater, a performer, he hated being in the public eye when he didn’t have to be. He preferred to be left alone, staying far away from PR deals and interviews. He could relate to what you were feeling, despite all the years he’d had to get used to it.

Slowly, he stepped towards you. He brought his hands forward and grabbed your wrists gently, pulling them away from your face. When you peered up at him, it was like a chunk of his lung fell into the depths of his stomach. You were terrified, and Roy had no fucking clue how to make it better.

“If Beard said to own it, then own it,” Roy said gently. “If it makes you feel any better, I fucking hate events like this.”

You sniffed. “You do?”

Roy nodded. “But, it’s a necessary part of the job. By now, though, paparazzi know that I don’t give a fuck about them. They piss me off, so I know how it feels.” His eyes flicked over your face, trying to seek out the right words to say. “About the celebrities, though. Well, I’m a fucking celebrity, aren’t I?”

You scoffed abruptly, taking yourself and Roy by surprise. “Sorry,” you said quickly.

“See? It’s funny when I say it, right? Because we work together, and you thought I was the fcuking caretaker last month.”

“I’m still sorry about that,” you whispered.

“This is what I mean. The word celebrity makes it all the more scary and shit,” Roy continued. “You know all the guys at the club, and they fucking worship you. It’s a bit fucking weird sometimes.”

You laughed properly then, as Roy’s words started to sink into your skull. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” you said, breathing in deeply, and exhaling slowly.

Roy removed his grasp from you and took a step back. “Fucking own it.” He settled on, giving you a once over with his dark eyes.

You let out a shaky breath, expelling as much of your anxiety from your body as you possibly could. You stood up straight, shaking out your limbs. “Okay,” you muttered to yourself, before you headed off towards the bathroom, again.

You worked fast, calmly, to clean yourself up. Roy let himself out and leaned against the hood of his car, the same way you had in the car park a few weeks prior. When you walked out of your flat, shutting the door behind you, you were like a completely different person. No longer were the nerves and anxiety eating you alive. You’d been replaced by someone that knew her worth, someone who stood up tall and proud in her pair of platforms. Someone who, certainly, was going to get cold by the evening, but didn’t factor in a jacket of any kind when picking out this fucking outfit, so she had nothing.

Roy tugged open the passenger side door for you. You muttered a thank you at him, before you both got comfortable in his Jeep. Roy stuck the keys in the ignition, but turned to you before he switched on the engine.

“Ready?” he asked, just double checking.

You nodded. “Let’s fucking get this over with.”

“That’s the fucking spirit.” Roy started the engine, and you were off.

Tag list: @atjamesbbarnes​ @20th-centu-fairy-girl​ @royalestrellas​ @weakmoony-stuff​ @ironmanmagnetfridge​ @lemonpiegurll​ @hellomagicalsouls​ @her-fandom-sanctum

CHAPTER THREE

[glitterwordsdarkthoughts]

Chris had been acting weird all day. The two of you were supposed to get lunch, but he'd changed plans at the last minute and requested that you meet him at the studio instead. "I want your opinion on a song."

It's odd because you're not musically inclined - he knows this. Still, you settle into the desk chair he steers you into, ready to listen earnestly. "I kind of - um, wrote it about you. or with you in mind?"

It may take longer than it should to realize that the song playing is a love song. The song about you that he wrote while thinking about you is a love song. It shocks you a little, makes you sit up straighter, carefully taking in every word. "Play it again."

He does hands shaking. You could listen to his confession forever, but you're afraid he'll shake right out of his skin from nerves if you make him play it a third time without saying anything. "I love it," you admit, "I love you too."

He deflates in his chair. "You couldn't have said that the first time you listened to it," he whines, relieved.

You grin, "Play it for me again."

"You really like it that much?"

"Yeah, I do." And you don't just mean the song.

You were a little confused by the things Minho kept presenting you with. At first, you thought nothing of it. Snacks every now and then - normal. The coffee you love - very sweet of him. Stickers after you complimented the one on his phone case, a keychain, a cute stress ball: it isn't until the items become a collection of things that you question it.

You want it to mean something, something crazy like he likes you. But you're terrified it doesn't mean anything at all. You've convinced yourself that he's just being kind. You don't want to mention it and never receive another thoughtful gift from him. Each item brings you so much joy. Curiosity is eating you alive, though.

"I really appreciate everything you give me, but why?" You ask, fiddling with the newest gift, a cute cat plush.

He looks startled, like a deer in the headlights.

Chan chuckles from behind you, "It's because he likes you!"

Minho looks horrified, hissing, "Shut up! I'll kill you." Then to you, "I can stop if it's making you uncomfortable."

"No!" You startle; that's the last thing you want. Calmer, you add, "I really enjoy it because it's you, and I like you, too."

"I want you to stay," Changbin murmurs against the bare skin of your shoulder.

Your skin is tacky with sweat, and your brain is a little foggy from your last orgasm still. "What?"

His arm tightens around your waist like he's afraid you'll disappear. "I want you to stay."

"Like for now or?" You question because you desperately need clarification, your heart beating wildly.

"Forever."

You roll over abruptly, fighting against his firm hold to face him. "Say that to my face."

"I want you to stay with me forever. I love you, and I can't stand to watch you walk away anymore."

You don't know if you're more relieved at finally hearing those words or pissed that it took so long.

"Can I look?" You gesture toward the sketchbook on the table, and Hyunjin agrees, distracted. Usually, you'd work on your own project while he worked on his. Still, you just can't find the motivation to be productive today. If you don't distract yourself with something, it's only a matter of time before he catches you staring.

It isn't until after you start turning pages that he remembers what's in that particular book. The damage is already done, though; before he can resend the agreement, your wide eyes are already taking in page after page of you. The whole book is a character study of you.

"Wow, a little obsessed, aren't you," you try to joke, but it doesn't land. You don't know what else to say, hating the sudden tension.

"I am," he admits after a beat of silence, "you're sort of amazing."

"Sort of?"

He glares, "Stop fishing for compliments."

"But I love getting compliments from you."

"Why?"

Feeling brave, you drop the playful jesting. "Because I'm kind of in love with you."

Jisung's lying on the couch, phone held above his face. "You're cute," you declare, just to watch how his cheeks color.

"Don't tease me," he grumbles, turning to pout at you.

"It's not teasing if it's true."

He rolls his eyes, focusing back on his phone. You've liked him for a while, always complimenting him, and his blushing and stuttering are rewarding, but you'd really like to know how he feels about you. Seungmin had said Jisung's an idiot, and you would have to spell it out for him.

"I like you! Like a want to date you - like you."

The phone drops onto Jisung's face. "Ow! Wait. Really?" He questions, turning so fast he nearly rolls off the couch.

"Yeah."

He beams, "I like you too."

You blurt out, "I like you!" It's a poor excuse for a confession, and immediately, you regret the words. You stuff the cookie Felix made into your mouth, so you can't speak anymore. Clearly, you shouldn't be allowed to talk.

He laughs, his smile lighting up his entire face; it distracts you from your embarrassment. "That's good because I've been trying to seduce you with baked goods for a while."

The sound of your surprise is muffled by the cookie in your mouth.

"Please, don't choke. I won't be able to kiss you if you do."

At the admission, you do choke, struggling to swallow and coughing to clear your windpipe once you do. "Not helpful," you complain.

He giggles more, enjoying your reaction, and is relieved that you are both on the same page.

"I wish you'd look at me like that," you mutter, wistful; maybe you've had too much to drink.

"Like what?" Seungmin questions.

"Like you want me."

"You're drunk," he points out. The words sting like the worst rejection. This isn't the first time you've told him you liked him, hinting at your desire. It's also not the first time that he's brushed you off.

"Not so drunk that I don't know what I want." You stand abruptly, having to use that table to steady yourself.

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

He sighs heavily before following you outside. He pulls you to a halt on the sidewalk. "Are you serious?"

You stare, confused and hurt.

"Do you really like me?"

Huffing, you demand, "Haven't I told enough times?"

"Just once more - I'll take you seriously this time."

There's something earnest about the way he says it that makes you swallow your pride. "I like you, you asshole."

"I like you too."

"I'm sick of going on blind dates," you complain over coffee with Jeongin.

"Then why do you keep going on them."

You stare him down momentarily, weighing the pros and cons of honesty. The silence stretches so long it pulls him from his phone. You decide to be honest; lying to yourself and going on stupid dates hasn't lessened your crush on him. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, or some shit like that. "Because I can't go on a date with you."

"Why can't you?"

You gape at him. There's a list of reasons, starting with him being your friend and not liking you romantically, but this is the day for taking chances apparently because instead of answering, you ask, "Will you go on a date with me?"

He smiles, "I'd love to."

The easy agreement leaves you a little baffled and angry at yourself; if only you'd known it would be that simple.

[lilasturns]

TOXIC.

in which their relationship is too toxic to let go of.

warnings: toxicdom!chris, SMUT. slight daddy kink if u squint, use of ma/mama

"Not anymore, Chris!" You hollered in his face, your finger pointing right at his nose. "It's over!"

"Try and find someone better than me," He starts, "you think anyone else can fuck you better than me? Get you off, please you, treat you, better than me?"

You stayed silent as he took a few steps closer to you, glaring down at you with his sharp blue eyes. He placed a finger under your chin, lifting your head up to look straight at him.

You bit your lip, your legs weakening as you felt a familiar heat pooling between your legs. You hated that no matter what he did, he still had this effect on you. Even in your worst moments, he could still make you fold, make you vulnerable in your moments of anger.

"What, ma?" He taunted, "cat got your tongue?" He snaked his right arm around your waist, pulling your body closer to his, pressing you right up against his hard-on, eliciting your body to shiver against his.

He dipped his head down, slowly and softly colliding his lips against yours. His lips felt all too familiar, as if they were made for you. His tongue glided against your lips, begging to explore your mouth.

You let his tongue into your mouth as your hands traveled up his arm and across his back, letting yourself sink into him although you were just mad at him a few moments ago.

His lips trailed down to your neck, your cheeks burning as he left delicate kisses across your neck. You whimpered, lightly squeezed your thighs together as he ran his hands down to your ass.

"Come on, mama," He spoke softly, "let me show you how sorry I am." You whimpered in response, nodding your head desperately, the heat between your legs becoming overpowering.

"Use your words." He demanded, running a finger over your jawline.

"P-please." You shivered, your breath lightly quivering. "Show me how sorry you are."

He sat on your bed, quickly dragging you on top of him, your legs wrapping around his waist. He hungrily pressed his lips against yours, groans leaving his mouth as you grinded down on top of him while his hands held your hips.

"Chris.." you whine, still grinding down on his cock.

"What is it, baby?" He sneered, his hand trailing to the inside of your thigh.

"Touch me." You reply, looking at him with begging eyes. You get off of his lap, laying down on your bed with your knees bent. He climbs in between your legs, rubbing you through your shorts.

You pull your shorts off, wanting more. He rubs finger down to your folds, causing you to buck your hips up into his finger. He runs his finger up and down, collecting some of your wetness through your panties.

"You're soaked, baby," He smirks, "you need me real bad, don't you?"

"Please, Daddy." You respond, arching your back, trying to get him to touch you more. He grunts at the name, slowly taking off your panties, teasing you, and if it's somehow possible, you feel the tension between your legs rising.

"Such a pretty pussy. All for me, right?" He asks, teasing your entrance with his middle finger.

You whimper in response as he slips his finger inside you, a moan leaving your mouth as he pumped his one finger in and out of you at a steady pace.

He leans over you, hovering over your lips as he adds another finger inside you, causing your breath to hitch. Your eyes close shut, your mouth dropped open.

As he picks up the pace with his fingers, you buck your hips up into him, wrapping your body around his shoulder, pulling yourself over his shoulder as you feel the pit in your stomach start to grow.

"I'm gonna- fuck." You feel your high approaching as you start to grind against Chris' fingers. You clench around his fingers, provoking him to pull his fingers out of you, making you release a loud whine.

"You're coming on my cock, not my fingers." He leans over you to kiss you again, locking his lips in with yours, his hands traveling up your shirt. He pulls it off over you in a swift motion, while your hands play with the band of his pyjama pants.

You slowly pull off his pants, palming his boner through his boxers. He groans, pulling away from the kiss and slipping off his boxers.

"Fuck, I can't take it anymore." He mumbles to himself as you bend your legs, spreading them wide.

He positions himself in between your legs, waiting no time to slam his cock into you swiftly. He didn't let you adjust, causing your jaw to drop as you let out a deep moan.

Your stomach was twisting with pleasure and your hands scratched down Chris' back while your wrapped your legs around his waist.

"Fuck!" He moaned, thrusting in and out of you rapidly. "You're fucking made for me, ma."

You moaned in response, pulling him in by wrapping your arm around his body so he could lay his chest against yours.

"Tell me your mine." He whispers in your ear, leaving light and delicate kisses below your ear and down the side of your neck.

"I'm yours, d-daddy." You spoke out, unable to keep back your whimpers as you could feel the knot in your stomach forming.

The bedframe was hitting against the wall as every thrust became more and more forceful, and you could feel yourself clenching around Chris' cock, causing him to let out more and more groans.

"I-I'm gonna come." You panted out, as you felt your high quickly approaching, Chris' right thumb comes down to your clit, rubbing it in circles with a hasty speed to help you ride out your high.

"Come on, baby." He encouraged, "let it out."

You release all over his cock with a loud groan, your legs loosening around his waist, and your eyes blink shut and you let out a sigh.

You can tell he came when he lets out a loud groan and his thrusts slightly slow down and come to a complete stop. He pulls his dick out of you and lays down on your bed beside you, panting.

You open your eyes and turn over to look at him, propping up your elbow to rest your head in your hand.

"Still over?" He teases, glancing his head over at you.

"No." You state, getting up and pulling your panties back on, walking over to your bathroom.

"Hey!" Chris called out, sitting up in your bed as he watched you walk over to your bathroom, his arms behind him in order to hold his body up. "What if I wanted round two?"

[onlyfourkiwis]

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

Between the Shadow and the Soul║ ⒸⓄⓁⓁⒺⒸⓉⒾⓄⓃⓈ

| Between the Shadow and the Soul | part of the A Savage Place collection ║ series masterlist ║ main masterlist ║

| PAIRING(s): sub!Joel Miller x dom!fem!OC | RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 6.4k | CONTENT: exploration of power dynamics, submissive and domination practices, dirty talk, rewards and punishments, pegging (YAY!), some degradation type kink stuff idk, one moment of mommy kink I guess, Joel loves to throw himself a pity party & dom!fem!OC has no interest in letting that fester

| SYNOPSIS: Pegging, but make it therapeutic. And maybe a little romantic?

“It’s right back here,” Chris calls over his shoulder to you. He waves his arm in a wide arc without glancing back, motioning you to the storage area of his shop. 

You follow with barely contained excitement at what awaits.

“Here’s the loot,” he chortles. He reveals the items in question with an abrupt yank on a heavy blanket shrouding it. He gestures broadly at several dingy looking boxes that were hidden beneath.

You peer into the closest one that’s open and can’t help but gasp at the glorious sight before you: a variety of sex toys and intimacy products still in their original packaging. No sun bleaching. No molding. No wear and tear. Almost perfect condition.

“How?!” you practically shriek. “In the back stockroom of some toy shop. Shopping center next to a mall,” Chris readily explains with a shared enthusiasm. “Must’ve been in the middle of unpacking a new shipment or something because most of it was in the box still, like you see it here.”

“But they’re in such good condition!” you marvel.

“Yeah, the stuff closer to the front that wasn’t picked over already was damaged by sunlight or whatever else, but this treasure trove right here was tucked away near the back. Still got some sun and air, but not enough to damage them. I told Alex I officially believe in miracles now,” he snorts.

“Yeah, no kidding!” you laugh with effusive mirth. “I can’t believe this. Seriously. You know how long I’ve been looking for this kind of stuff?!”

“Probably about as long as I have,” he titters gleefully.

“Hey, you have the real thing at home, and I know Alex is hung like a horse based on how he carries himself,” you point out with feigned indignation.

“Yeah yeah, but it’s still fun to have toys!” he retorts with a wistful edge to his voice.

You couldn’t argue with him on that account. You thank the heavens above that Chris and Alex have a soft spot for you after you helped them link up. Alex routinely oversaw more of the specialized patrol missions, and you’d known it in your bones the moment you met Chris that the two of them would hit it off. When you and Alex set out on a 3 day scouting trip all those moons ago, you’d convinced him by the end of it to strike up a conversation with Chris just to “see where things went.” Of course they didn’t even make it through their first outing to get drinks together before they were infatuated with one another.

“And the real thing I have at home was just about as excited as you and me are,” he adds. “Has his eye on a few things, but don’t worry, though. I already old him it was only right that you get first pick.”

You waste no time rummaging through the goods. You snatch up several items you know will serve you well. When your hand hesitates over the packaging of a strap-on harness, Chris lifts a curious brow. You grin and roll your eyes at his silent probing.

“Dare I ask who the special lady is?” he questions in a sing-song voice.

When you purse your lips into a poorly contained smirk, his eyebrows lift into his hairline. “Oh, a special man?”

He eyes the strap harness before looking back at you with a wicked grin. “Okay, I’m not gonna ask about it today, but you WILL be spilling all the details at some point.”

You giggle and agree you’ll eventually share some of the particulars about your “mystery man.” After going through each and every box, you set out with a hefty bag of goods, satisfied with your haul and all the possibilities it facilitated. You could hardly wait to get into all of it and surprise Joel with a few things. You thankfully didn’t have to wait long for an opportunity as it was only a few days later that he was able to meet up at your house.

It had been almost two weeks since you’d been able to spend time together outside of patrols. His mood had shifted into something closer to his previously staunch antagonism, and you weren’t sure if he was dealing with something privately or if he was just sulking over your stringent expectations of his behavior when you were apart. If it was the latter, not being allowed to get yourself off for a little while certainly didn’t warrant such a surly disposition.

Something felt off, though. It wasn’t just the bitter, grouchy temperament that you’d come to know and dismantle over the months you’d been seeing each other. No, there was something else bubbling under the surface. Something more than sexual frustration, although you’re sure that didn’t help.

His sullen knock at the door was the first reminder of the semi-detached doldrum he’d taken to lately. You beckoned him inside and gave several languid kisses along the column of his neck the moment the door closed. Instead of meeting your physical advances, his hands gently wrapped around the span of your back and cupped you closer to him. When he released a ragged sigh, you knew it was going to be one of those times where he needed a little extra tenderness.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Joel drawls in a lazy hum.

“Hey, baby. What’s going on?” You push a few of the graying, curly strands from his forehead, taking the occasion to search his face for any indication of what had him so squarely in the clutches of unrest.

“Just havin’ a time right now with Ellie, is all,” he mumbles after a moment. His eyes focus on your shoulder and collarbones - anywhere but meeting your gaze - but there was a faraway look in them. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask carefully. The topic of Ellie always had the potential to be a sensitive one for Joel, and you had your suspicions for the past couple of weeks that there was some sort of unresolved issue between the two of them.

Joel shook his head gently. “Nah. Not ready.”

You nod and immediately back off the topic. Joel needed a safe place to run to, and you didn’t want to be another thing he was running from.

“Let’s get you cleaned up so I can take care of you today, okay? How does that sound?” you offer in a sultry, low voice.

“Sounds perfect, honey,” he agrees, his shoulders slumping at the pacifying reassurance you always provided.

You help him out of his jacket and boots before guiding him to the bathroom. You turn the shower on and strip him down while it warms up. The growing heat of the water begins to plume into a fog of cloudy steam inside the bathroom.

“Go on and sit,” you shoo him into the shower. You strip yourself and join him. Even with his large frame and broad shoulders, Joel looks so small in this moment, sitting wide legged on the built in shower bench with his head leaning against the wall behind him. You can see just how tired he looks when you’re eye to eye like this.

He appraises your naked body with a wanton, gluttonous fixation. His cock twitches in response to the gains yielded by his unabashed ogling. His hand edges towards where he’s already half-hard, but he doesn’t touch himself yet. Not without your permission.

You take your time angling the showerhead so the outpour of water cascades over his crown and downward between the stretch of sore muscles of his shoulder blades and back. His eyes close with a satisfied groan at the feeling of the heat over his tired, aching body.

You divert some of the water with your hands to douse his upper body. You grab the shampoo off to the side and spurt a small puddle of the rosemary and lavender scented liquid into the cup of your palm.

“You been a good boy?” you gently ease into some teasing. You rub the shampoo between your hands.

“Haven’t got off in over a fuckin’ week, if that’s what you’re askin’,” he snips impatiently.

You balk at his impolite tone. “Well don’t ruin all that now with such a bad attitude,” you chide.

He sighs and drops his shoulders. “Sorry,” he mutters, looking away and grasping his hands together in his lap before looking back up at you with a chastised, contrite expression. He extends a tentative reach and curves his hands around your waist in a meek bid for forgiveness.

“I’ll accept your apology, but don’t test my patience,” you warn.

You lather up the shampoo in his hair and work it over in kneading circles. His brows knit together. His eyes peacefully drift shut. You scratch at the base of his scalp, just where he likes. He lets out a low groan of relief.

“I know you’ve been having a hard time lately, Joel. That’s what I’m here for. I’m here to take care of you, give you what you need. So are you going to be a nice boy for mommy today and let me give you what you need?”

His eyes remain closed as you rinse the suds from his hair.

“Yes, ma’am,” he promises.

“That’s what I like to hear, sweet boy.”

You work up a soapy foam and wash him top to bottom. His cock is soft again by the time you make it down his legs, but there’ll be time for that later. Right now you need to get Joel into a clearer headspace, one with a less turbulent response pattern. You take extra care to wash his feet, knowing he doesn’t ever take the time to really look after them as well as he should. He moans at the kneading motions you rub along the arch of his feet.

“God that feel so fuckin’ good,” he murmurs.

You spend a few extra minutes massaging his knees, never able to forget the day that raider had knocked him down and added even more strain to his already bad joints. When you finally finish working over his muscles and washing him up, you direct the water back and forth to rinse any remaining residue.

Once the final specs of soap have been cleared away with the rush of hot water, you massage his temples and jaw where he endlessly overtaxed the muscles with incessant clenching and grinding - a longstanding bad habit that had made a return as of late. 

He sighs and leans into your palliative hold, letting the hot water wash over his back. His arms circle your middle and hug you closer to him. Sometimes it was sloppy messes, wet kisses, and blood surging between thighs from the moment he came through your door. Other times, like today, it was something more intimate, a give and take. 

He’d nestle himself right into the crag of reprieve and sanctuary you’d cleft into for him. You let him stay there for as long as he wanted, whenever he wanted. It felt good to be needed. It felt gratifying and substantial to guide something broken through the thick of it all and into someplace less fraught with the realities of life. You, too, could escape there right alongside him, swept up in the creation and execution of taking someone into yourself to safeguard and mold into a dulcified, amenable thing.

You cut the water off and wrap a soft towel around Joel’s shoulders. You help him towel dry his hair and upper body before exiting the shower and hug a towel over yourself. Joel drapes another clean towel around his waist and heads for the bedroom. You smile to yourself at the familiar routine that’s already been established between the two of you. As expected, he’s lying over the towels, spread across your bed, as he waits for you to join him.

You grab a clean, oversized t-shirt and pull it on to stave off the chill in the air. You grab the container of lotion from your dresser and head for the bed. Joel watches you with a soft fondness as you climb onto it and straddle him. You take a dab of lotion and rub it into his cheeks and nose.

“Still don’t see why I gotta get this stuff every time I shower over here,” he objects gruffly.

“Because you don’t ever lotion, Joel. Seriously, the only time you ever take care of your skin is when somebody else is forcing you to,” you huff in a laugh. “You’re sexy and all that, but nobody can pull off lizard skin. Not even you.”

He belly laughs at that and runs his palms over your bare thighs as you sit atop him. It’s nice to hear him laugh. You feel proud that you’ve already gotten him this relaxed.

“Besides, I know it feels good to finally get some moisture on this goddamn sandpaper you call skin. It just about drinks up every drop of lotion I’ve got every time I do this,” you point out.

“Mmmm, yeah. Does feel nice,” he admits with a sheepish, lazy grin.

You smile back at him and shake your head. “Silly boy. Already told you that’s what I’m here to do. To make you feel good if you’ve behaved yourself.”

“And, uh… today, do I…” he trails off.

You realize he thinks showering and some light pampering is all he’s getting rewarded with today.

“I mean, I just… you know, after a whole week - OVER a week, actually - of not havin’ any ‘stress relief’, especially when I really coulda used some,” he emphasizes.

“You’re the one that canceled last week,” you remind him pointedly.

“I know, I know. Didn’t want to. Somethin’ with Ellie came up, and … anyway, I didn’t cancel because I wanted to. God knows I’ve been goin’ outta my fuckin’ mind tryna follow your fuckin’ rules,” he gripes.

“Joel Miller, are you pouting because you couldn’t jerk yourself off for a few days?” you taunt.

Joel huffs loudly but doesn’t respond further.

“I asked you a question,” you caution.

He breathes out a weighted puff of air and nervously readjusts his body. “Look, it’s not- I’m not pouting. I just.. I missed bein’ with you, I guess. Needed you, like this,” he admits quietly.

You heave a half-exasperated sigh. It was hard to stay annoyed with him when he got like this. He sometimes put forth a weak effort to regain some of the control in your dynamic, but you could understood how hard it was for someone like Joel to give up control in the first place. If it wasn’t working for him anymore, you might’ve relented, but deep down you both knew he needed the reinforcement and structure you gave him. What you had worked for both of you, even if Joel sometimes tried to self-sabotage.

 “I missed you, too, baby,” you yield. You rub lotion into the rest of his body and watch the rise and fall of his chest start to slow. After a few moments of comfortable silence, Joel shifts again under your touch.

“I guess I just–I dunno. I didn’t know what to expect comin’ over today. Never canceled on you before. Didn’t know if it was gonna be some punishment or somethin’ for it. Didn’t know if I’d done good enough to get rewarded,” he explains stiffly, nervously.

“You know if you follow my rules and obey me, you get rewarded. Why would that change?” you contend.

“I dunno,” he blows out in an exaggerated exhale, staring up at the ceiling. “I guess I just feel like I don’t know much of anythin’ anymore.”

Before Joel could slump any further into his own pity party, you decide to give him the swift kick to the ass you had to dole out every now and then to get him back on track. You lift away from straddling him and place both knees on one side next to his hip. You lean forward, one arm firmly planted beside his head.

“Well then let’s clear it up, Joel,” you hiss. His eyes light up excitedly at your change in tone.

“This–” you grit out, roughly grabbing his soft dick “–belongs to me.”

You slowly stroke him a few times, enjoying the way blood starts rushing to his cock and hardening under your touch. All too avid and supplicant at your directive.

“And you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about what happens to it because that’s for me to decide. Are we clear?” you press.

He lets out a choked moan and nods.

“SAY IT.”

“It’s all yours, sweetheart,” he grinds out with effort.

“What’s mine, Joel?” you push.

“My dick. It’s yours. All yours,” he grits out when your strokes get firmer and faster. Beads of precome start to trickle freely from his swollen tip.

“Mmmmm, that’s right. Glad we could clear that up,” you chuckle humorlessly. Your hand drops lower beneath his balls, garnering a hitched breath and exhilarated stare from Joel. 

“And this little hole is mine, too,” you murmur. You swirl the pad of your middle finger over his asshole and smile when you feel it pucker inward.

Joel swallows harshly and nods in agreement. “S’yours, baby.”

You hum with delight and agreement. “Good boy.”

Joel’s cock jumps at the simple plaudit, and you’re relieved that he’s finally veering away from feeling sorry for himself. “I just love when you obey me, Joel. It means I get to take such good care of you. Give you just what you need.”

You slide off the bed and saunter lazily to your closet where all your new goodies are tucked away. You bring out the opaque plastic container you’d housed them all in after sterilizing and cleaning everything.

“What’s all that?” Joel asks, almost breathless with anticipation.

“Just a few things I picked up,” you respond coyly. “Couldn’t pass them up once I realized I could find new ways to use you.”

Joel emits a needy groan at the possessive and maddeningly vague language around what was going to happen to him at your hand today.

“I’m going to sort through a few things here, and when I turn back around you’d better be on your belly with some pillows beneath you. I want your ass UP and waiting for me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Joel agrees in a rush. You smile to yourself when you hear his hurried repositioning. You take your time pushing things around the container, tacking a few moments onto the process just to draw out the intoxicating thrill of anticipation.

When you turn and see him splayed out for you just as you commanded, you have to stop yourself from reaching between your legs.

“You’re such a good listener when you’re weak, honey,” you needle. “Haven’t gotten off in over a week, right? So fucking pussy drunk you’ll do whatever I say, just so you can come, huh? Pretty fucking pathetic.”

“Fuck,” Joel hisses under his breath. His cock is rock hard and pressing straight down between his thighs against the pillow. He grinds it pitifully against the pillows propping him up, searching for any sort of relief.

“I’m goin’ outta my fuckin’ mind,” he grates through his teeth. He really does sound pained.

“If you don’t stop complaining, I will find something to shut you up,” you warn him flatly.

“Just fuckin’ need you, baby, please,” he grumbles with a touch more humility.

“Where do you need me, Joel?” you tease.

“Anywhere,” he groans desperately.

You crouch down behind him and run an admiring pass of your hands over his backside. You spread them apart and shoot a hot ball of spit onto the opening in between. Joel jumps and moans at the sensation, and you give him no time to process it further before sliding the flat of your tongue against the glistening wet you spit onto him.

He bucks his hips into the pillows beneath him and lets out a loud, strained moan. He already sounds completely wrecked. You lap gently, delving your tongue inside of his opening every few passes, and settle into a slow rhythm until he relaxes beneath you. You only break away to grab at Joel’s mouth and command for him to spit into your hand. He gives you everything he can gather and makes a mess of your palm. You work the slippery wet over your fingers until they’re coated.

You gently cup and massage his balls while you advance your index finger inch by delicate inch into his taut ring of muscle. You laugh quietly under your breath as you watch your digit get practically swallowed into him without any effort from you.

“Such a needy little hole,” you mock. “Didn’t realize it craved my attention this bad.”

Joel groans and shifts his hips higher for easier access.

“Talk to me, baby. I wanna know how it feels.”

“Mmm, s’g-good. Like it. You make me feel–hnn–so good,” he answers in a stilted gasp.

When you pull out just enough for your fingertip to be all that’s still inside him, Joel’s hips cant backwards towards you, chasing the fill of you. He mumbles something quietly that you don’t catch.

“Speak up,” you reprimand, laying a harsh swat to the flesh of his backside. He jerks forward and moans before repeating himself.

“Fuck – just, maybe could you … just – more?” he asks in a hushed tone.

You exhale a laugh through your nose and spit on your index and middle fingers before gliding them inside. Joel tenses slightly at the added girth, and you rub encouraging circles against the back of his thigh with your free hand.

“You look so good opening up for me like this, baby,” you coo. “I wish you could see yourself spreading around my fingers. So fucking tight, but you’re taking them so well.”

“How can I–” he grunts, cutting himself off as he tries to relax into the intrusion.

“Just breathe through it and know it makes me happy when you take my fingers like this. So proud of you when you open up for me like this.”

It takes a few minutes, but eventually Joel is taking the gentle push and pull of two fingers without any resistance. He’d only ever taken one before today, and you needed to get him more worked up if you wanted to do what you had in mind.

“God that feels fuckin’ weird but so damn good at the same time,” he huffs. 

You can’t help but smile at the hint of confusion in his voice, the mystery of the pleasure his own body holds. The pillow beneath him is smeared with dribbles of precome, and you need to back off for a moment before he comes everywhere. He makes a noise of dissent when you slide your fingers all the way out.

“As much as I love that needy little hole of yours, mine comes first,” you remind him. You wipe your hands and between his thighs with one of the towels from the shower and make your way over to the box of goodies. Joel turns on his side to watch what you have planned for him. You take out the mid sized dildo to gauge his reaction, which turns out to be an almost comical look of panic.

“Don’t get too excited, baby boy. You haven’t earned this one yet,” you tut.

You pull out a bottle of lube that was revived once a little water was added to it and squirt a small amount onto the tip. It wasn’t as big as Joel - and therefore wouldn’t be as satisfying -  but it would do for now in taking care of the throbbing feeling between your legs as well as getting Joel even more worked up and accepting of anything you gave him.

You pull your shirt up and over your head, tossing it carelessly on the floor, as you head over to the bed once more. You kick the pillows to the side and lay on your back beside Joel. He eagerly scoots closer to you and runs his hands up and down the expanse of your body.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful. So fuckin' perfect,” he breathes.

You’ll never get over the earnest admiration in his voice when he compliments you during these quiet, shared moments. The gratitude and reverence in the lilt of his extolling makes your chest feel warm and light.

“Can I help you feel good, too?” he pleads with big eyes.

“Only because you’ve been so good for me.”

He breathes a smile and watches as you slowly insert the toy into your aching core. You sigh at the small but welcomed stretch, working it in and out with a steady rhythm. Joel’s mouth is on your hardened nipples, your neck, your earlobes, your ribcage, your clit. Anywhere and everywhere he can worship you with his mouth. It isn’t long before you’re clenching repeatedly onto the toy. Joel releases the suction of his mouth against your clit to watch the spasm of your muscles.

“God, I could watch that all fuckin’ day,” he muses, staring intently at your pussy as your orgasm starts to ebb away.

You pull the toy out and let him admire the glistening mixture of lube and your slick. You sit up slowly, with Joel mimicking the movement, and offer it to him. “Clean it.”

He quirks an eyebrow and reaches for it, presumably to take it to the bathroom to rinse it off. You grin at his misunderstanding. “With your mouth.”

Joel’s eyes narrow at you for a moment. “You really want me gaggin’ on that stupid thing and pukin’ all over your bed?” he scoffs. 

“Never said that, but if that’s what I wanted then that’s exactly what you’d be doing,” you snip sternly.

Joel’s brow pinches together in a fluid movement before returning to something more neutral. He remains silent, but you notice the way his breath has picked up with the lift and sink of his chest. It was no secret to you that Joel got off on the idea of you commanding every idea, movement, and action of his, yet somehow he still managed to be surprised sometimes by his eagerness to be dominated and subjugated by someone he trusted and knew would never actively seek to harm him.

“On your knees,” you bite. He groans but positions himself as you instructed. You stand on the bed in front of him and hold the toy between your legs, right at his eye level. “Open your mouth and lick this cock clean.”

Joel considers the toy for a moment, a flush of heat gracing his cheeks, before looking back up at you.

“Tongue out, baby boy. Don’t get shy on me now,” you taunt.

He closes his eyes and sticks a sliver of tongue out. He starts grazing a small area near the base but doesn’t seem all that enthusiastic about it.

“You keep your eyes open and on me when you’re licking my cock clean,” you snap with a forceful grab to his hair.

Joel growls at the sudden pull on his scalp but keeps his eyes opened and trained on you.

“Stick it out, wide and flat,” you instruct. Joel complies, jutting his tongue all the way out and wide open for you. “Good boy.” You thrust the toy slowly against the flat of his tongue with a rolling motion of your hips as you use his mouth to clean it. You grow impatient with the task before it’s even halfway cleaned.

“That’s good enough. I’m ready to take that little hole of yours again,” you drawl.

You ignore Joel’s excited breathing as you exchange the toy for the smaller, curved one you made sure wouldn’t be too small to fit the strap harness. It wasn’t what you wanted to see shoving in and out of Joel’s asshole, but you had to start somewhere.

“On your belly, just like before,” you call over your shoulder.

You hear the rustling of Joel positioning himself, eager to please and eager to see what you’re gifting him with next. In the months you’d been exploring this dynamic together, you’d found that Joel liked a constant barrage of unknowns you’d throw at him, only to safely guide him to the other side of it where he’d be trying to catch his breath after being catapulted into yet another overwhelming, blissful climax. There was a thrill to it now for him, one that he hadn’t embraced at first. You can only hope he doesn’t fight you too hard on this one.

You quickly fasten the harness around your waist and legs and attach the small, curved dildo to it. You grab the bottle of lube to take with you back to bed. You spread Joel apart and dribble a cold stream of it onto him, letting it slither down to his hole that’s begging to be filled with you. Your index and middle fingers slide in without resistance. He was so worked up from everything that he was just about ready to take what you had for him.

“Roll over.”

Joel obeys, and you watch with stifled delight as he takes in your get up. His eyes snap up to yours with uncertainty.

“Knees up.��

Joel slowly draws his heels onto the edge of the bed and removes one of the pillows underneath his hips. When you stroke some lube up and down the small toy, something seems to snap in him. He huffs a sigh and drops an arm over his face.

“Joel, you need to use your words if this is something you don’t want,” you assert slowly and firmly. “You know how this works by now. You can’t expect me to know every little thought you have. If you want this to stop, it stops, but you have to tell me.”

“I know that. It’s not that. I trust you, I do–” he sighs, lifting his arm from his face and resting it above his head, “–I’ve just never done this shit before, alright? I’m tryna enjoy it, but that’s kinda hard to do when I’m wonderin’ if I’m gonna be shittin’ weird for the next week or somethin’.”

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. You wanted to tell him you’ve taken much bigger without any life-altering results, but you know it would only get the conversation incredibly off course.

“Have I ever hurt you, Joel?” you level at him.

He lets out a deep breath after a moment. “No.”

“Do you think I’d take advantage of this thing we’ve got?”

He shakes his head thoughtfully. “No.”

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you’re not referring to me correctly because I know you’re distracted, okay? But you need to trust me if this is going to work. So, you need to decide if you trust me to make you feel good and to take care of you how you need.”

Joel locks eyes with you and nods. “Okay. I trust you.”

“Good. Now put your fucking knees up and say thank you.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you,” Joel obliges.

You grab the base of the toy and guide the tip of it right to his rim. You slowly push inside, studying Joel’s face for any sign of pain. 

“You’re opening up so good for me,” you praise as your gaze settles onto the toy already halfway inside.

“PLEASE CAN I FUCKIN’ TOUCH MY DICK,” Joel chokes out in a gasp.

“Go ahead, baby,” you answer calmly.

Joel grabs his rigid length and strokes himself vigorously. His eyes roll to the back of his head when you push the toy inside him all the way to the hilt. When you draw back out, a broken moan catches in his throat. You watch the pace of his hand up and down his length and mimic the same rhythm. It’s not long before he realizes you’re matching his movements, and his brow tightens and releases with the realization and acceptance of this novel pleasure. 

“There you go. Just how you like it,” you coax softly. You smile as his eagerness intensifies. You love to watch him catch onto things, make these small discoveries about himself. This is a bigger leap than you’ve taken before - and maybe he still needs to be in control somewhat - but that spark of hunger you’ve ignited in him will only grow. You know one day soon he’ll be begging for you to fill him up with the biggest toy you’ve got while he’s on all fours.

You lean down for a moment to give him a slow, gentle kiss. You pull back slightly, rubbing your nose against his for a moment.

“Joel, what happens here - between us - it’s safe. So you can say what you’re dying to say. I see it all over your face how much you want to.”

You pull up and resume the steady thrusting motion from before. Joel’s hands grip the sheets in hard fists by his sides.

“You can say it, Joel. Tell me how much you love getting your tight, needy hole fucked by my cock,” you urge.

“Hrrmmpphh-fuck!–yesss–hnnffff,” he pants. Sweat is gathering in glimmering beads along his hairline and forehead.

“You’ve got such a greedy little hole for me to fuck, don’t you?”

“Gahh–AGH—YES,” he croaks. He’s starting to writhe underneath you. You wrap your hands over his hip bones and thrust harder.

“You know I wanna hear you say it, baby.”

“I–GOD, fuck yes–please,” Joel pants. “I fuckin’ have a — god dammit, such a - have such a greedy little hole I want you to fuck.”

“Yeah, you do, huh?” you chuckle. “I love watching how well you take it. You take my cock so well, Joel. You were just made for me to use.”

“Feels so fuckin’ good, honey,” he moans as you pick up the pace.

The muscles in his stomach begin to tense up, and you watch as it dawns on Joel that he’s coming. His mouth stretches open to a silent scream as his hands fly over top of yours, squeezing and grabbing for something to keep hold of him.

“Oh, fuck yeah. There we go,” you laud as you watch heavy beads of semi-clear white spend dribble from his angry, red tip. 

You fuck him through it, tilting his hips up when they drop so you can keep nudging against his prostate. When you pull out of him, he’s still coming down from what you can only assume is his first prostate orgasm. Just in case he could ever forget how good you make him feel, you want to add on one final novelty.

“Hands and knees,” you instruct coolly.

“I-I can’t,” Joel exhales heavily.

“Hands and knees or it’s two weeks without coming.”

As expected, Joel complies to avoid the punishment. You squirt more lube onto the toy and settle on your back beneath him, once again moving the pillows out of the way with a quick kick. Before you can give him his next instruction, Joel’s mouth is on yours with a heavy, impassioned kiss.

He groans into your mouth, sucking and licking into it as if the oxygen from your lungs is all the air that he has in order to breathe. The intensity and undeniable intimacy of it catches you off guard, and you quickly fall into the movements of his tongue against yours.

Joel pulls away, breathing fast and heavy, with a look of complete deference. “Tell me what you want me to do, baby. Anything. Anything for you. Just tell me, and I’ll do it.”

“Sit on my cock,” you pant, out of breath from the kiss.

Joel clumsily lines himself up with the toy and sinks onto it with a heavy groan.

“Fuck yourself with my cock, and you can come all over these pretty tits,” you goad.

Joel starts jerking himself and grabbing at your breasts. You caress and stroke his balls. He awkwardly rolls his hips until he finds something that works for him, settling on a slow, deep grind. His face quickly contorts to one of imminent release.

“Such a good fucking boy for me today, Joel. So good for me. You wanna come all over my tits, baby? Make me all messy with your come? Give me something to taste?” you ask in a sickly sweet voice.

“FUCK, yeah–yes, baby, fuck yeah I do, so fuckin’ bad,” he rasps.

You take a free hand to pinch one of his nipples, and he jerks forward with a moan. You watch the small space where he lifts himself from the toy as he grinds against it.

“Keep going. Taking my cock so good. You look so perfect spreading open for me like that,” you spur him on.

You keep a steady, massaging motion on his balls as you open your mouth wide for him. You make a playful, teasing moaning noise beneath him, wordlessly begging for him to come all over you.

Joel’s hips stutter with a hitched whimper as hot white ropes start to erupt all over your chest and face. He falters forward, catching himself with his free hand against the mattress at the last moment.

“FUCK! Got my fuckin’–christ almi–FUCK,” he groans as the last bit of his spend lands with a soft splat onto your belly.

He lifts himself off the toy and slumps into a heap halfway over your body. He doesn’t seem to notice or care about the feeling of his come spreading against his skin where his weight bears into you. He slowly catches his breath and opens his eyes to meet yours. You wait, watching him with a satisfied smile. His face is relaxed and open. The grooves and lines of stress and upset are no longer as prominent as they’d been when he first arrived.

He drags a thumb through a half-crusted glob of his spend drying against your cheek and brings it to your lips. You open your mouth and suck on it. He scrapes and feeds you the rest of his release from your neck and face. You smile contentedly at the look of sleepy wonder he has for you.

“Don’t know what I did before you,” he muses in a soft hush.

You lean in with a gentle kiss, letting him taste himself on your tongue for a moment, and pull back. “You know we have to get a shower again, right?”

He shuts his eyes and grumbles. “You’re gonna make me use lotion again, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” you laugh as you pull him into a tight embrace.

This is not the last of Joel getting pegged, so please don't fret. Just wanted to explore the *~first time~* for him. Please trust I have every intention of this man getting his cheeks clapped hahaha.

Title is from Pablo Neruda:

I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,    or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:    I love you as one loves certain obscure things,    secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

catch ya later, ♥Puddles♥

tagging if you requested pegging or if I feel that you are spiritually aligned with Joel Miller getting pegged:

@beelzebeth87 @lvl-2005 @wannab-urs @for-a-longlongtime @toxicanonymity @walkintotheriveranddisappear @munchieforpedropascal @danaispunk @cinnamonpolvera @jupiter-soups @roguedjarin @rav3n-pascal22 @someotherasshole @forestfaeriequeen @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @atticrissfinch

[eddiebabygirldiaz]

WIP Wednesday

tagged by @forthewolves @shitouttabuck @jeeyuns @rewritetheending @disasterbuckdiaz @wikiangela @try-set-me-on-fire @wh0re-behavi0r @jesuisici33 @sibylsleaves @eowon

thank you beloveds! <3

been focusing mostly on the calls fic and desperately trying to claw myself out of the scene set during the lightning strike so have some of that

Eddie wraps an arm around his knees, tugging them closer to his chest. Something about being curled up like this makes him feel better, giving him the illusion of being able to protect himself and all of the mess he carries inside.

His hand falls across his knee, right where there is the tiniest hole in the fabric, an seemingly inconsequential and unnoticeable tear where the threads are worn and tired. He brushes his fingers across it, shivering when he doesn’t feel anything, so numb from the weight of three day old rain and unending terror and three minutes and seventeen seconds worth of death, both his and Buck’s.

“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” he says mournfully while picking at the tear in his jeans. “I just–I want to talk to you. I want to say so many things but I don’t know the words and the one person that I can go to who can help me figure it all out is you. And you’re–you’re not here. Not really.”

The words taste like a lie.

Eddie picks and picks at the tear until he can fit his finger through, hooking it around the material roughly. He thinks about Chris asking if Buck could hear him. He thinks about being unable to answer because he truly had no idea and couldn’t offer his son something that wasn’t undeniably true. He thinks about wanting Buck to hear every word Chris says. He thinks about being unable to believe they can reach Buck now.

Tears sting and pluck at his eyes, demanding to be felt and released. He lets a few fall, more tracks across his face to add to the collection. He turns his face toward the phone in his hand, allowing himself to imagine that it’s not glass and metal but Buck’s warm, soft palm.

“I want you to talk to me,” Eddie whispers like a confession. “I want you to talk to me even though I can’t bear to go in that room and talk to you. I should be able to. Chris did. He’s so brave, Buck. I know he is scared and hurting, but he was able to stand next to you and look at you and touch you and tell you to come back. And I–” can’t, I can’t, I’m not good enough, I want to tell you everything, I don’t want to tell you anything at all because if I keep it then that means there will be another chance for me to tell you.

tagging @elvensorceress @spaceprincessem @lemonzestywrites @anxieteandbiscuits @diazass @bucks118 @housewifebuck @lover-of-mine @butchdiaz @911onabc @arthursdent @bekkachaos @messyhairdiaz @gayedmundodiaz @folk-fae @giddyupbuck @hippolotamus @shortsighted-owl @spotsandsocks @bvckandeddie @fiona-fififi @devirnis @loserdiaz @monsterrae1 @buddierights @rogerzsteven @prettyboybuckley @paranoidbean and anyone else who wants to do it!

[bloombubs]

Adrian Chase x reader dating headcanons where reader had worked alongside Harcourt and John for years and was forced to relocate with them to since they also helped Task Force X defeat with Harcourt and John. Maybe here, reader has done gymnastics for years and incorporated their gymnastics skills into their fighting styles. And maybe they are pretty shy in the beginning, often times clinging to John or Harcourt (which they don’t mind) but once reader gets used to the new recruits (Adrian, peacemaker, Leona), they’re pretty energetic and bubbly and also an idiot

I'm going to apologize now and say I definitely did not hit the head of the nail with this one.

notes: ....idek. mentions sexual themes. 1kish words. thank you for being the first request <3

In the midst of the team's activities and occasional chaos, Adrian always noticed you. Your silence amidst the noise intrigued him, and he saw it as a challenge to get to know you. But you clung around Economos and Harcourt in the beginning.

Despite his boisterous nature, Adrian made a concerted effort to get to know you. He sensed a potential for humor and snark beneath the surface and was determined to uncover it. He had a gut feeling that you were full of funny comments, snarky replies. He always noted how you bit your lip, rolled your eyes, and shook your head. Some ideas caused your eyes to widen, whether it sounded exciting or completely stupid.

Not content with simply observing you, Adrian took his curiosity to Harcourt and Economos. His relentless questions about you, ranging from your music preferences to your quirks, often left them a little annoyed but entertained.

“So, do they like Taylor Swift?” “I don’t know, Vig, you ask them.”

“Do you think they’d go out to the bar?” “Are you going to ask them out on a date?” “What? No, what makes you say that?”

Adrian made it a habit to sit beside you whenever the opportunity presented itself. Whether it was during briefings, downtime, or meals, car rides, he strategically positioned himself next to you, ready to engage in conversation.

Your reactions became his focal point. Adrian would glance at you whenever something noteworthy happened, waiting for your response. Majority of the time when he spoke, it was directed at you–hoping to get a reaction.

Adrian’s jaw visibility hit the floor when he saw your style of fighting. You’re so flexible, so grateful on your feet. He didn’t know you were a gymnast, but it was a lovely surprise. You felt more confident in showing your ability, mostly prepping yourself with Chris would make a lewd comment about your flexibility and how it piqued his interest. It definitely piqued Adrian’s.

Adrian compared you to being the next version of Nightwing, which was far from the truth, but you found it flattering either way. “You’re no match for Judomaster,” “He knocked me out with the first punch, Vig.” “…Maybe it was a fair fight.”

Maybe it was the first time in the car that he saw you singing along to the song, nodding your head and smiling at everyone. Eagly perched in your lap once, you were petrified. Adrian saw the sight endearing and wholesome–a photo for him to take to add to the collection of his best friends.

He added you on Facebook randomly at three AM.

Eventually, he did invite you out to the bar. As well as the others because he was a bit nervous himself to be on a date with someone like you–he thinks you're the coolest, sweetest, talented, badass person he had ever met.

On this date, everyone took a hint and left you two alone, Harcourt and Economos giving you a look before they left.

The two talked about everything and anything–once you fully peeled back from your shell–with a few drinks to help–Adrian just couldn’t get you off his mind.

Somehow it spiraled to the two of you doing drunk karaoke.

He definitely didn’t drink as much to make sure you got back to where you were staying–he even took you for a ride in his Vigilante mobile.

The night finished and he asked for another date, but just him and you this time right off the bat. You agreed and kissed him on the cheek before ending the night.

Adrian definitely texted Chris all about it. You definitely texted Harcourt all about it as well.

Everyone just knew the two would wind up together at this point.

Leota and Chris placed a bet when Adrian would ask you out.

Chris said he would would be too chickened to ask you out.

Leota was convinced that he would wait at least two months–in the similar fate that Adrian just needed to build courage to ask you to be his significant other.

False.

Adrian never formally asked you to be his significant other. After a couple of months filled with constant dates, sleepovers, and quickies in the Vigilante mobile, both of you assumed exclusivity without the need for explicit conversations.

You would always support his decision on any choice of weapon. But you adamantly believed that Economos had the right to use a chainsaw, passionately advocating for his moment to shine.

Seeing you in action became one of Adrian's biggest turn-ons. Whether in a protective or provocative way, his eyes were always glued to you in the field, often causing distractions as he couldn't help but admire your skills.

One day you both come into the headquarters, covered in hickies. No one was surprised, but god they had a field trip making fun of you two.

The classic, did a vacuum cleaner suck on your neck?

Adrian would just claim that he was testing the limit of what his body could handle–turns out, he can endure a lot.

Chris just made a remark that you were claiming dominance over someone that never needed it in the first place.

But you two are safe, nothing could ever top seeing Leota’s wife’s nudes–unless Adrian would accidentally leak the homemade videos the two of you on a whim decided to make.

After missions, you two would watch whatever movie Adrian wanted to see, have a small dinner, hear him ramble about anything and everything.

He tries teaching you DND.

You scared Harcourt, Adebayo, and Economos once when they were needing to have an emergency meeting and you weren’t sleeping in your bed–but you were over at Adrian’s.

Chris would definitely try to convince Adrian for a threesome. A man’s gotta try.

Adrian would refuse to let you get hurt on the field and he would be damned if anyone was trying to harm you. He would not let you do anything alone–which didn’t necessarily mean you had to be paired with him, but you wouldn’t be alone.

[lex-the-flex]

Lovers From The Past

DI! Leon S. Kennedy x reader

Summary: After an unexpected all-nighter in San Francisco, who knew Alcatraz could bring a pair of old lovers from the past?

Word Count:

Warning(s): MEGA FLUFF, slight angst, mentions of injuries, just two idiots in love, the reader awakening a coffee addiction in Leon, and basically the first coffee date all over again.

A/N: It's about time that I give Death Island Leon some love! This movie has been on my mind for the past couple of days and I really need to do a rewatch. Inspired by Mareux's song with the same name. Feedback is appreciated and enjoy!

Cracking open the doors of that damned prison, the bright morning sunrise brought a surprising wave of colors as a new day was approaching with ease. Joining the group on the entry stairs, a collective sigh fills the air. Quietly soaking in the sun's warmth, the exposing sound of peaceful waves and seagulls squawking makes the event of last night feel like a weird dream. 

Opening your eyes, you let out another large exhale, and you can feel Claire’s reassuring hand in your shoulder. 

“You feeling okay?” She asks with a smile. 

“Yeah, never better. The sun feels so good.” You reply. 

Stretching your arms above your head, you hum in delight at the sun, causing Leon to glance in your direction. His blue orbs observe the fresh set of bruises forming around the nape of your neck and elbows from Maria’s furious retaliations. Crossing his arms against his bulletproof vest, Leon leans his head back. 

“Well, I know what I’m going to take away from this experience.” He announces. 

“What’s that?” Rebecca asks, sitting up. 

“Prison tours suck.” Leon replies, earning a collected chuckle from the group. 

“So do giant shark monsters.” Claire adds, nudging Rebecca’s shoulder. 

“And deadly assassins who really know how to punch.” You say, gently stretching your neck. 

Chris carefully pats your back, silently letting you know that you did well against Maria. Even though he wasn’t there, he could feel that both you and Leon did what was right. The two of you knew what you had to do in the end. 

“Yeah. But we sure did kick some ass, didn’t we?”Jill asks, turning to face you and the rest of the group. 

“We sure did. All of us.” Chris responds. 

Suddenly, the arrival of a trio of helicopters come into view, ready to pick up the team. Bouncing off the stairs, you make your way to Leon, who wraps his arm around you. 

“How’re you holding up, Y/N? Is there anything I can do?” Leon asks. 

Smirking, you wrap your left arm around Leon’s vest, joining your strong tandem together. 

“Ask me after I’ve had a shower. And more than five hours of sleep.” You reply, rolling your right arm. 

Feeling your body start to ache, you were definitely ready for some hot food and a long shower. Hell, everyone was. 

“So, when and where?” Leon teases, smiling widely. 

“Oh no, not this time, Kennedy. Not on your life.” You reply, playfully shoving him away. 

*****

Flying over the bustling city of San Francisco, the helicopters manage to take the crew to the B.S.A.A. safehouse where you and the group debrief on the mission, and report the successful results to Hunnigan and your other operatives. 

Towards the end of the afternoon, you could barely keep your eyes open, even to the point where you started to fall asleep while leaning against the kitchenette counter. Struggling to keep yourself up, Chris noticed your tired state, and gently shook you awake. 

“Hey Y/N, what do you say we call it a day? You could use some rest.” He says. 

“We all could use some rest. I’ve had my fill of paperwork for the next two weeks.” Rebecca announces, standing from the shared break table. 

“Sounds like a deal. We’ve definitely deserved a break after everything.” Claire replies. 

***** 

Courtesy of the B.S.A.A., you had the pleasure of walking into one of the most exquisite hotels you had ever seen in your life. The Fairmont Hotel greeted you with open arms consisting of large rooms, fresh linens, clean clothes, and room service was at your beck and call. 

Silently standing in the main lobby, the only thing that mattered was taking a nice hot shower, taking some much needed painkillers, and finally having a solid uninterrupted night’s sleep. And nothing sounded better. Walking out of the elevator with Leon, the two of you noticed that your rooms were right next to each other, but that didn’t bother you. Chris made sure it was for safety reasons and you didn’t make a fuss about it. 

“I’m right next to you if you need anything, okay? Let me have your ice bucket. The machine is right down the hall.” Leon advised. 

Slowly nodding at his words, he carefully patted you on the shoulder then handed over a paper bag filled with water bottles, an extra room key, and a small med kit. Giving Leon a very tired thumbs up, you swiped the key card into the door before heading inside to retrieve the ice bucket. 

After checking into your room, the very first thing you did was play some of your favorite jazz from the TV. Placing the water bottles in the mini fridge, you downed an aspirin along with some of the fruit from the bowl in the entryway. Making your way to the lavish marble tiled bathroom, you turned on the shower, before answering the door where Leon gave you the ice bucket and one last goodnight whilst he retired for the night.

Locking the door behind you, you placed the bucket on the desk, removing your boots in the process. Returning to the bathroom, you practically ripped the dirty clothes from your exhausted form. Stepping into the shower, you let the hot water cascade over you, and everything was alright with the world. You made sure to rid yourself of all the dirt, sweat, and dried blood from your body and replaced the mess with some wonderful jasmine scented soap. 

Once your shower was over, you felt as if you could sleep in the cotton towel, but you couldn’t. That double bed was calling your name and you felt its grasp pulling you closer. Walking over to the desk, you unzipped a complimentary bag that Chris gave the group, causing you to gasp in delight. Fresh clothes were filled to the brim of the duffle bag and you thanked your friend with a smile. Sinking into bed never felt so good with a set of cozy pajamas at your side. The moment you closed your eyes, you let the comforter envelop you with its embrace, and you remained that way for twelve hours.

*****

The scent of hot coffee littered the small shop in the lobby. Tugging at the hem of your sweater, you checked the news on your phone from the previous few days, seeing that Alcatraz was closed for the next few weeks, and that all ticket reservations are to be refunded. Hearing your name being called, you grabbed your order, and headed back into the lobby where Leon joined you. 

“Hey, stranger. Sleep well?” He asked. 

“Oh my God, better than ever. I think I slept for twelve hours straight.” You reply, walking to the elevators. 

“Good, we needed it. I think the others are still asleep.” Leon replied, pushing the button. 

“I don’t blame them. Sleep is its own reward.” You tease, nudging Leon’s shoulder. 

“You got that right. If you’re not too busy, Y/N, I want to give you something. If it’s alright with you.” Leon says, leading the way back to the rooms. 

“Yeah sure. Sounds good.” You reply before following Leon down the hall. 

***** 

“Mm, that’s good!” Leon boasts, taking another sip of your coffee. 

“I told you! I never understood why you stopped drinking coffee. It soothes the soul.” You explain. 

Sitting in the desk chair, Leon sets a few bags next to you on the mahogany table. Unwrapping at least three different boxes, he awkwardly holds a trio of multiple concealers, and even takes out a tube of body foundation. 

“I– I wasn’t sure which one to get. The employee who helped me only had to go off of pictures of you. So I’m not entirely sure which one will match.” Leon says, with his embarrassment taking over. 

“You bought all of this for me? Oh Leon, you didn’t have to.” You reply, nearly standing from the chair. 

Motioning you to sit back down, Leon sets the bottles back on the desk, and folds his hands together. 

“I wanted to, Y/N. I had to do something after seeing what Maria did to you. So can you please let me have this? Just this once?” He asks, leaning on the desk. 

Nodding, you let him. Sliding off your sweater, Leon’s eyes nearly well with tears at the sight of all the multicolored bruises and cuts on your skin that Maria left you with. Taking Leon’s hand in yours, you calmly rub his knuckles. 

“It’s okay, Leon. I’m right here.” You say. 

Swallowing his emotions, he asks you to stand in the natural light from the window. Opening the curtains a bit more, your white tank top almost blinds you, but Leon is one step ahead. Dimming the room’s lights, the afternoon sunlight beams into the room and your eyes start to adjust. 

Listening to your instructions, Leon carefully preps your elbow applying concealer along your bruises. Watching Leon’s visible concentration form, you couldn’t help but laugh at him focusing. 

“What?” He asks, looking up at you. 

“Nothing, it’s just… You realize this is why we broke up right? We can’t keep doing this forever.” You say, glancing up at him. 

“I know, but it’s the life we chose.” Leon replies, giving you his full attention. 

Hesitantly running his fingers along the bottom of your jaw, your lips part at the feeling, and a gasp escapes your mouth. Leaning in closer, Leon hovers his pink lips above yours and you don’t even try to stop him. Pressing his lips to yours, Leon places his hands around your hips, and lifts you out of the chair and onto the desk. 

Wrapping your arms around him, his kisses become more heated and passionate as he wants more. Ridding himself of his jacket, he supports your embrace by pulling you closer. A growl begins to form in his chest just as Leon moves his lips underneath your jaw and the sound of your frantic breathing. Moving to stand in between your legs, you run your fingers through his dark hair while he makes his way down to your collarbones. 

Silently groaning in pain at your injured skin, Leon immediately stops and raises himself back to you. 

“You alright?” He asks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Yeah, never better.” You reply with a smile. 

re taglist ~

@dreamliners

@iraot

@beautifuljellyfishqueen

@balach-cadalach

@fetaneecole

@odaschopsticks

@tiredsurvivoronmain

@thecodeisveronica

@andyacklesspn

@kanzukikarin

@cloudybakery

@swimninhoney

@ashiemochi

@kennedysharper

@highball66

@onewinged-sephiroth

@scariusaquarius

@cilantro422

@shions-new-blog-of-stuff

@acupnoodle

@rpd-rookie

@oreo-leon

@xxresi-rotxx

@ashrillvenheim

@knifefightandchill

@tradgothprompto

@the-resident-vampire

@brittlecakes92

@mnjxs

@rebidemp-ebil

@chirikalovesjill

@paleepeaches

@dargoww

@leonwifey 

@arzublogworld

@ec1ips3

@dreamingchocochan

@mothxmoon

@josieinwonderland

@winksasleeplesseye

@jl-micasea-fics

@thatgoblin

@decath3ct

@notrattus

@leonsbaby

@kennedyalike

@okami-117

@rebidemp-ebil

@youralli

@mandalhoerian

@biohazzrds

@xplore-the-unknwn

@blossom-of-feathers

[mwahsturns]

ꨄ︎ welcome to my blog !! <33 ꨄ︎

hiii welcome to my blogg!! I wanted to share some stuff about me and tell you guys what you should expect from my page. My page is all about fun, love, jokes and everyone supporting one another!, don’t be shy to message or leave a message in my inbox I love making new friends on here, With all that being said I hope you stick around!.

* *:･ﾟ✧💒*:･ﾟ✧

୨୧ my writing !! <33 ୨୧

☆ ࣪ I’ll be writing smut, fluff angst, Snapchat povs, instagram povs and text message povs.

☆ ࣪ i don't practically care abt minors because I’m not your mom but ill put some warnings, I don’t really recommend minors on here cause you know protect The kids but you’ll do how you wish.

☆ ࣪ im poc reader friendly, I’ll write for black!reader or latina!reader i personally don’t care one because I am Latina😭 and two because I want my page to be inclusive.

☆ ࣪ if i don't post often it's mostly cause i have bad writers block, but I’ll try to post consistently!.

☆ ࣪ if you want to be on my taglist you can send a message to my inbox and I’ll add you <3.

᧔♡᧓ Masterlist !! ᧔♡᧓

— # 𝐊𝐄𝐘 !!!

⚜️ — smut

⭐️— fluff

🩹— angst

🪩 — my favs

🩰 — other!

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ Matt sturniolo ౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

Love letters (Cᴏᴍɪɴɢ sᴏᴏɴ..) ⚜️⭐️

Date night (Cᴏᴍɪɴɢ sᴏᴏɴ..) ⚜️⭐️

Birthday girl (Cᴏᴍɪɴɢ sᴏᴏɴ..) ⚜️⭐️🪩

Feels right⚜️

Film it ⚜️⭐️

———————————————————

Sᴇʀɪᴇs💗

First choice ⚜️ ⭐️ 🩹 🩰

Part one ⭐️

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ Chris sturniolo ౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

Shut up and kiss me (Cᴏᴍɪɴɢ sᴏᴏɴ..) ⚜️⭐️ 🩹

I love you.. (Cᴏᴍɪɴɢ sᴏᴏɴ..) ⭐️

Teach me (Cᴏᴍɪɴɢ sᴏᴏɴ..) ⚜️⭐️ 🩹

———————————————————

Sᴇʀɪᴇs 💗

Hockey boy (Cᴏᴍɪɴɢ sᴏᴏɴ..) ⭐️⚜️ 🩹 🩰

———————————————————

*:･ﾟ✧GUIDELINES *:･ﾟ✧

౨ৎ I will only write threesomes if requested more than once by multiple people, only rule for requests is please don't spam I’ll try to respond to you when I can.

౨ৎ I will write kinks here and there if requested but please no weird kinks.

ꨄ︎ Get to know me <3 ꨄ︎

So I’m May if you didn’t know, and I love reading! , Like a lot I own a lot of books. I love love love poetry , like I love reading and writing poetry. And I’ve always wanted to write poetry. I absolutely adore writing , I’m huge on writing like stories , love letters , my thoughts. literally anything.

I joined the fandom in 2022 but didn’t start writing for them until now. My music taste is literally everywhere like I love music. My favorite color is pink and I’ve been writing since I was 12. I’m a Matt and Chris girl because I literally can’t choose to save my life lmaoo.

Omg I love to collect vintage stuff so much and put me in a thrift shop I’ll literally lose it I love thrift shopping. I love painting so much oh and I literally love going to bookstores. I play guitar and piano I’ve always been extremely musically inclined. I love sunsets and I adore being in nature and having cute little picnics.

But that’s all I hope you guys enjoy my blog, i try to post a fic soon I have a lot I’m working on and I hope you all have an amazing day or night I love you all so much stay hot bbys 🤍🖇️🧸🎧