#dig out my suitcase | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ceilidho · 6 months ago

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take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 18) tw: minor character death, injuries, and misogynistic language

masterlist

He’s far off still, the smoking gun held tight in his hand and aimed up at the sky. A warning shot.

At first, you don’t quite believe it. He appears like a mirage in the distance after wandering through the desert for days, on the brink of starvation. Like a trick of the eye. You squint against the light, sure that you’ve mistaken the familiar felt pinch front hat and the speckled Appaloosa he sits astride for someone else, a stranger come to save you instead of the man you’ve been desperately pining for since Graves stole you from your home.

But the longer you stare at the man coming towards you, the brim of his hat casting a shadow over his face save for the grim set of his mouth, the harder it is to deny that it really is John.

Your chest is fit to burst. Heart pumping wildly against your ribcage. The sight of him is revelatory—a burning bush, a stream of light through storm clouds, St Elmo’s fire. The euphoric high is almost overwhelming.

“Son of a bitch,” Graves hisses beneath his breath, hand reaching for the revolver on his belt.

John is quicker though, firing off another round, this time at the ground between them, alarming Graves enough to make his arm jerk away from his side. Even you yelp. The gunfire cuts your swell of adulation short, bringing you back flush to the surface of the real world again. Graves’ horse scrambles back a few steps, nearly rearing up before Graves gets control of him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, now—” Graves booms, right in your ear, so loud that you wince, curling into yourself.

The gelding chuffs at John’s approach, unsettled. Graves digs his spurs into the horse’s side when it takes a few nervous steps back, making it whinny in pain. You’d tell him off, but you’ve learned by now to hold your tongue around Graves. He only knows how to impose his authority through pain.

“Easy, alright—” Graves calls out, holding out the hand not tangled in the reins to show that it’s empty, the revolver still sheathed in its holster. “No one’s gonna do anything stupid.”

The horse John sits astride is the one he never dared to train you on. The one you know would buck you straight off if you tried to hoist yourself up on its saddle. He’s bigger than Buttercup, all muscle and broodsome aura like its owner, and he doesn’t take kindly to strangers.

When it breathes out, you imagine its breath should smell sulfuric. Fire and brimstone.

Closer to you now, you can see his eyes under the brim of his hat. He glowers at Graves, the same look you’ve seen only once before, staring through the window of the general store at the scowl carved into his face when he dragged a man across town, but intensified. Not so much as a glimmer of sympathy or understanding in his eyes. Just cold rage.

The lines in his face are deep from lack of sleep, dark troughs under his eyes. Shoulders stiff; every muscle of his tensed, poised to react. You wonder how long after Graves took you John realized and followed the two of you in pursuit.

“I’m gonna say this once and you best not try my patience: let the lady go.”

The sound of his voice rumbles through you, making the hair on your arms raise. Seldom have you heard him use that tone of voice, more man than sheriff.

Graves’ hand tightens on the reins, knuckles going white. You don’t have to look over your shoulder to know that he has the same obsequious look on his face as he did back in town, indignation relegated to his extremities. You can see it in the tensed muscle of his forearms.

“Now Sheriff, you may have the run of this county, but I’ve got the power of the law on my side. The state of New York has issued a warrant for this woman’s arrest.” Graves’ smarmy evocation to the legality of his actions rankles you. He acts like the whole situation is out of his control, that he takes no joy in your apprehension. Simply a matter of duty.

Not that it seems to make a difference. Even you could tell Graves that.

“I won’t ask again.” John’s voice is threaded with fury, angrier than you’ve ever heard him speak.

And true to his words, he doesn’t. The silence stretches between the two men, fraught with tension. Graves is a rigid line at your back.

He’s the first to break the silence; the first to give. “At least let me show you the warrant, Sheriff,” Graves implores. “I ain’t just some vagrant that’s come and taken the sheriff’s wife without cause—and I assure you, there is cause.”

John doesn’t say a word, blue eyes still severe. Colder than the waters of Cocytus.

Graves must take his silence as permission because he reaches a hand into his pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. He holds it out to John at first, perhaps expecting the man to come close enough to take it from his hand, but John doesn’t even glance at the hand offering him the arrest warrant, eyes still locked on Graves.

“See now, I’ll even read it out—” he says, clearing his throat and half turning the paper back to him. “‘Whereas it has been represented to Government that—’”

“Give the letter to my wife,” John cuts him off, gesturing towards the warrant in Graves’ hand with his gun. “She’ll deliver it to me once you’ve handed her over.”

The interruption stuns Graves into silence, the warrant still held in his outstretched arm. He must not be accustomed to men deferring to women instead of him, much less a criminal like you. Your stomach cramps with nerves. The blow to his ego worries you more than John getting his hands on the arrest warrant. His behavior up to this point has been predictable—violent, but unsurprising. You aren’t interested in finding out if losing his temper changes that.

John’s eyes flick to yours. The first time he’s really looked at you since arriving unannounced, just a quick glance over you to ensure that you’re well. He must not like what he sees because the skin around his eyes tightens.

The moment of inattention is all Graves needs, eyes trained on it like a hunting dog. John’s eyes barely twitch away to meet yours and Graves draws his gun, his aim wild when he shoots.

You don’t see what he hits, but the gunfire drives John’s horse into a panic, throwing its head back and rearing up onto its hind legs. Graves fires again and the ground between you explodes, dirt and debris erupting into the air. The horse roars, the sound deep and throaty.

Graves grabs you by the back of your dress, forcing your back to arch and shoulders to pull back, using you, for all intents and purposes, as a meat shield. You can hear John try to take control of his horse, but it’s near mindless with fear, braying and bucking when Graves fires again, white smoke billowing from the muzzle. Panic seizes you by the throat when John’s horse bucks him right off, bellowing a curse when his body slams to the ground.

A scream bursts from your throat, but Graves holds you in place before you can slide off the saddle, spitting a tense shut the fuck up into your ear before digging his heel into his horse’s flank and steering him around, beating a hasty retreat. His horse moves in a wide arc until his body is turned back in the direction that Graves was originally heading.

You struggle against him until the horse moves at a speed too dangerous to chance falling from its back. It covers ground fast, moving at a breakneck speed.

“Stop—let me down!” you scream, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. The howling wind carries your voice away.

The violent toing and froing makes it impossible to cast a backward glance and see if John is in pursuit. All of your senses narrow down to what’s in front of you; from the saddle horn digging into your stomach and the air whipping past your face to the feeling of Graves’ breath wafting over the back of your neck as he pants.

A booming crack fills the air and you scream, fear soaring to an unfathomable height.

Graves grunts and tenses behind you, his hands spasming around the reins and letting go involuntarily. Then you feel the body behind you slump to the side, his weight almost unbalancing you until he falls off the horse altogether, feet slipping out of the stirrups.

The blood in your ears masks the sound of his body hitting the ground. Your head whips around to follow the trajectory of Graves’ body, but a wave of vertigo slams into you, a head on collision that forces you to dig your fingers into the horse’s mane and turn your body back around.

The horse barely notices the body slipping off its back though, tunnel vision on the road ahead. Legs pumping furiously beneath it, kicking up clouds of dust and dirt. You’d have thought the horse would’ve slowed up with the sudden unburdening of the other person astride it, but if anything, it picks up speed.

You can’t calm down enough to catch your breath; it gallops ahead of you as well, your vision growing spotty with the short, jagged breaths you take in. Lungs collapsing under the weight of your chest. Eyes squinted against the piercing wind. Sunspots brighter than light itself.

Your instinct is to make yourself small; shield yourself from the impending pain. That inescapable reality rushes towards you as quickly as you race towards it. You’re going to fall. It’s almost certain. You whimper when a particularly rough stride makes you slip an inch to the right, your fingers gripping into the horse’s mane ever tighter, desperate to keep yourself astride.

Someone’s voice breaks through the noise and you open your eyes.

In your fearstruck state, you almost don’t recognize the man riding beside you and keeping pace until he says your name—your real name—and you snap back to yourself. No time to contemplate your name in his mouth though, no time for anything except keeping from slipping into total panic.

“Pull up on the reins!” John roars over the clamor of hooves.

You peel your face from the horse’s mane to meet his eyes. The parallel of a memory from long ago. It flashes before your eyes and you remember yourself. Numb hands fisted in the horse’s mane unclench.

“Pull up!” he shouts again, and this time you comprehend. It’s the same as the time before.

Summoning every ounce of courage in your bones, you tighten your thighs and belly to lift yourself up, gathering and bridging the reins in your manacled hands. Half halt, release, and half halt again.

“Good—now circle!” John’s voice booms in your ear and through your blood.

You flinch when you try to steer your horse into a wide, sweeping turn and he resists at first, but on your second try, he follows your pull, his strides gradually slowing, easing up. When your horse finally comes to a standstill, walking its last few strides before coming to a stop, you sit with that bubble of tension until it bursts. Under your thighs, you can feel your horse’s ribs expand and contract with its labored breath.

The world blurs for a moment. The adrenaline flooding your body dissipates more with every breath you take, but the crash is just as intense as the rise. You can feel the shakes that wrack your body in a way that your mind can’t quite yet take in, still outside of itself. The first thing you truly register is your husband suddenly at your side, coaxing you down from the horse, your handcuffed hands braced on his chest as he helps you down and then holding on to him when your knees nearly buckle under you.

“Thank Christ,” he growls, pulling you into his chest.

The smell of tobacco and cloves is woven into the fabric of his shirt and you breathe it in zealously because it’s his. The reassurance that your husband has you, that he’s with you now, and the bad is over, nearly bowls you over. Makes you shake all the harder.

When you finally pull your face away from John’s chest, he cups your cheek with a gunpowder dusted hand, tilting your head up so he can press his lips to your forehead. Your gaze flits up and you stare at him with bleary eyes, wondering what he sees when he looks at you. Messy hair and a fleeting breath that quivers out, breaks to pieces, illuminates the sky when you glance over his head and it’s so blue that you could swim in it.

John frowns when you accidentally roll your shoulder back and wince. “You’re hurt.”

There’s no use in lying when he'll find out the truth soon enough, so you just nod.

“His doing, was it?” he assumes more than asks, inspecting you closely now and noting all the fresh abrasions immediately visible to his eyes.

Most of your injuries are surface level, more than apparent to him after a quick perusal. A split lip and plenty of scrapes just beginning to scab. You’re too tired to recount the events of the day before though, so you just shrug. Then hiss, the pain so intense that your bones go cold for a split second.

His forehead pinches with his frown, ghosting his hand over your shoulder as if to hold it in place. “I’ll look at it later, okay, darlin’?”

Every inch of you aches. You wish it could just be over now and you could be back in your bed by sundown, but you know the way home will be just as long. No rest unless you want the journey to be twice as long. The exhaustion alone might have you keel over before night falls.

Then someone coughs and drags you back into the real world.

You follow the sound with your eyes until they land on its cause. The crumpled form of the bounty hunter that dragged you out of town lies a quarter mile back. It’s difficult to make out the state of him from so far away, but you can tell it isn’t pretty, mangled and bloody from the fall he took off the horse.

“Oh God…” you murmur, eyes widening when the man twitches against the grass.

John’s hand falls away from your cheek. His anger is so palpable that you can feel it fill him back up, blue eyes going steely and jaw tightening as he stares at the man that tried to take you from him.

“Stay here,” your husband growls, hand reaching down to draw his pistol again.

John leaves you by the horses some distance away as he makes his way over to Graves’ prone form. Blood seeps from a gunshot wound in his shoulder, saturating his shirt and wetting the dirt beneath him, and even from where you stand, you can see the odd angle of his ankle from where he hit the ground.

With no small amount of effort, Graves props himself up on his good arm, the other hanging limp against the ground. Even the sight makes you wince, bile churning in your stomach. He has to be in tremendous pain. Even John limps a little as he approaches the other man, hip likely sore from his own fall.

Against your better judgment, and your husband’s command, you take a step towards them. And then another.

You have no reason other than the sinking feeling in your belly. If it were you with the gun, things would be different, you think. You’d do it again, without a second thought. Anything to keep Graves from opening his mouth.

The gun in John’s hand makes clear his intentions in no uncertain terms. Out on the plains in the middle of nowhere, even taking pity on the man and bringing Graves to the nearest town might not be enough. It’s a rough world out there. Tougher still with a wounded shoulder and sprained ankle.

More to the matter, John’s face says it all, jaw clenched and lips drawn into a tight line.

“It doesn’t have to go this way, sheriff,” Graves wheezes when the other man draws close enough to hear.

“You know I haven’t got a choice now,” John says, gazing up at the sky for a moment before looking back down at the man on the ground. “Not after you laid a hand on my wife.”

Despite the distance, Graves’ voice carries when he speaks. “You think you know that bitch? You don’t know this woman from Eve. What makes you think she won’t butcher you like she did that man back east?”

So casually he says it that you almost miss it. And then you don’t. The words pour over you like a sudden rain and you are back in that room, dread so potent that it chars the flesh, leaving cratered, necrotic holes wherever it touches. The worst moment of your life.

And Graves says it like a sin of your own making, like it was something you wanted, not a moment in your life haunting you from beyond the grave.

Your heart stops when your husband looks over at you assessingly. The truth lours over the two of you now, out in the open at last. All those months of hiding it, squandered in a moment by an injured man’s words. All you can do is stare helplessly at the man outlined by the blue sky, the horizon forever etching him into your memory. It’s the first time since you stumbled into the sheriff’s office all those months ago that you haven’t wanted him to think that you weren’t the woman that was supposed to be his wife.

“Shoulda listened to me, sheriff,” Graves laughs, his voice pained and raspy. “That Jezebel needs to answer for what she did.”

You can see it in his eyes that he believes Graves. And why wouldn’t he? The man has committed no crime; spoken not a lie to this point.

John looks at you in such a strange way though. There’s no surprise there; just a glint in his eye meant only for you. A glint that says darlin’, this ain’t nothin’ new; you never could’ve fooled me.

He knew your name after all. And you wonder how long he’s known. If he found out sometime in those first days or somewhere down the line or if the arrest warrant fell across his desk in recent days and he knew it would come to this, someone hunting you down across state lines to bring you back. If he knew he’d always have to come after you and rescue you from the jaws of death.

Everything comes all at once, each moment flashing across your mind barely long enough to leave an impression. Everything is proven immaterial in seconds.

There’s so much between the two of you. History, obligation, duty. Tenderness shouldn’t even be the half of it, and yet it bears down twice as hard. It’s the only thing that matters when you look at him—not the thought of being dragged back east and forced to stand trial, not the injustice of being made to atone for protecting yourself against a worse fate, but the thought of being taken away from him, of never seeing him again.

You can feel that worry evaporate the longer you hold his gaze. There’s something intentional there, something he is saying without words.

These days, you do not think to tremble when his hands are on your lips. You tilt your head instead, wait for him to make his next move. Your trust, implicit, underlying everything. Knowing he’ll break the bread and feed you from his hands if need be.

Though you can’t unhinge your jaw enough to ask him to promise that he’ll keep you, his eyes say that it’s a foregone conclusion. How could he ever let you go? You’re everything he’s ever wanted, the only thing even duty could never take from him.

John looks back down at the man lying at his feet. “Couldn’t help runnin’ your mouth, now could you?”

Graves opens his mouth, but John doesn’t wait for a response. He pulls the trigger.

#ceil writing #cod x reader #price x reader #john price/reader #price/reader #john price x reader #john price x you #price x you

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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 year ago

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Whatever My Wife Wants

Summary: On your honeymoon, Javi decides to break out a new accessory you've never seen him wear before. Little does he know, that seeing him wear a chain for the first time is about to drive you wild.

Word Count: 4.5K

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also its your honeymoon so who am I to say), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, literally the biggest, fattest, ugliest breeding kink (I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not), marriage kink (?) creampie, cum play, kind of exhibitionism (like if you SQUINT), talks of starting a family, Javi LOVES his wife, Javi in a CHAIN, Javi on his honeymoon deserves its own warning, did I mention that Javi LOVES his wife?!

A/N: shoutout to my sweet @honeyedmiller for this request after reblogging this MASTERPIECE from @enstatia. It's supposed to be a painting of Din, but it gave me such big Javi vibes, and I really haven't been the same since picturing the one and only Javier Peña in a chain (bc If i can't unsee it, you shouldn't be allowed to either) 😵‍💫 Also shoutout to Lucien Flores for singlehandedly ruining my life today with that new clip from the Uninvited (but also you can't tell me that this outfit is so Javi on the beach coded PHEW)

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

Javi had never been one for jewelry- well, that was until a few days ago when a new golden wedding band had made a home on his hand. Since you had slipped it on his finger, Javi couldn’t get enough of watching it glisten in the warm, tropical sunlight on your honeymoon, a reminder that filled his heart to the brim to know that he was yours forever.

Javi’s new wedding ring was the only jewelry that he had ever pictured himself wearing, until you had mentioned to him in passing while shopping for new clothes for your honeymoon how good he’d look with a chain to go with any of his outfits he had planned for the trip- considering there was no way Javi was going to have no less than 4 buttons undone on his shirt at any given time while basking in the tropical warmth of your honeymoon paradise.

Later on that week, he had dug around in his dresser to find a thin, golden chain necklace he had back from his time in college, that hadn’t seen the light of day in too many years to count. But, given your enthusiasm for the idea of him wearing something like it, Javi had decided to pack it with him in his suitcase to surprise when the time felt right.

Well, after being a few drinks deep at the pool bar from earlier, Javi’s slightly tipsy confidence had him feeling like now was the perfect time to try out his new accessory to see what you thought. Digging through his suitcase, he pulled out out the chain to go with the rest of his outfit for your dinner on the beach, clipping the necklace around his neck as he looked himself over in the mirror, quickly fixing his hair and adjusting his shirt, undoing one more button than probably necessary to show off his new look.

And while he could admit that he didn’t look half bad with it on, and figured you’d like the new surprise addition to his wardrobe, there’d be no way in hell he could have ever prepared himself for the viscerally awestruck reaction you’d have to the thin, gold chain dangling around his neck.

“I can practically feel you burning a hole through my chest, Hermosa.” Javi chuckled, raising an eyebrow at you as he took another bite of his food, giving you a playful smirk at the way you had been ogling at him ever since you had noticed the thin gold chain resting across his tanned skin as you began your walk through the hotel to head to dinner.

“Oh shut up, it’s not my fault you’re so hot. You’re making it very hard not to look, in my defense.” You sighed, trying to get yourself to focus on your food instead of staring at Javi for the rest of dinner, despite the fact that the only meal you had your eyes on was sitting across the table from you. “There’s already something about you being my husband that makes you somehow even hotter than you already were, and now with this?” You picked up your fork, gesturing to the chain dangling between the parted fabric of Javi’s shirt, “I think you may be trying to legitimately kill me.”

“Figured you’d like it. Didn’t think you’d like it this much.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip before taking another bite of food, his cheeks growing flushed and warm as he looked at you admiring him, wondering how in the hell he had gotten so goddamn lucky. “Thanks, Mrs. Peña.” He laughed, taking another bite of his food, shooting you a quick wink.

Mrs. Peña.

God, if that alone wasn’t enough to send you over the edge already, your new last name, combined with the incredibly attractive man you had gotten it from that you now got to call your husband? On top of that stupidly hot chain he had decided to throw on with his outfit? There was definitely something else you were hungry for other than the half cleared plate below you.

It was then that you couldn’t have been happier you had been seated at a table on the edge of the beachside boardwalk, tucked behind a few stray palm trees, secluded enough out of view that you had no problem reaching under the table to rest your hand on Javi’s knee, toying with the hem of his shorts before letting your fingers creep further and further up his thigh.

“Are you almost done with your food?” You asked, your voice sweet and sultry as your hand brushing against Javi’s crotch immediately caught his attention, making his eyes go wide as he sat up straight, setting down his knife and fork to look down in his lap. “Because if you are, I can think of something else I want for dessert when we go back to our room. Something I want really bad. You wanna feel how badly I want it?”

Javi swallowed hard as your fingers wrapped more firmly around his bulge, gently massaging his dick in your grasp, before grabbing his hand and guiding it to brush along the slit of your sundress and closer to your core, aching and dripping with arousal. Letting his fingers creep up the inside of your thighs and ghost over your folds, his eyes went even wider, jaw practically dropping open to feel that you were not only absolutely soaked, but also not wearing any underwear at all. Using every ounce of composure he had to keep from falling apart right then and there at the dinner table, letting out a deep sigh as he cursed under his breath.

“Jesus fucking Christ. Fuck, baby… Yeah, I can be done right now.” He groaned, nodding at your proposition before wrapping his hand around the meat of your thigh as he took a long inhale, staring you down with darkening eyes and a devilish grin across the table.

Never had you been more thankful that the resort you had picked to stay at was all inclusive, because if either of you had to wait a minute longer for a server to get your bill so you could get back up to your room, the probability of impending implosion would have been practically inevitable.

Firmly intertwining your fingers with his as you grabbed his hand, you were nearly dragging Javi through the hotel to the nearest bay of elevators, pleasantly shocked to find no one else waiting with you to travel up to their room, leaving the two of you alone to catch the next elevator back up to your floor.

Without a word, the second the elevator doors had closed, the two of you were on top of each other, a messy dance of tongue and teeth crashing together, Javi’s hands palming the meat of your ass over your dress while yours roamed over his chest, tracing the freckles of his tanned skin up to the golden chain dangling in the open buttons of his shirt, stopping to wrap the necklace around your finger, tugging Javi closer to you.

“Fuck, you look so good with this on, baby.” You moaned, your words hot against Javi’s skin as you nipped at his neck, chain still tangled in your grasp. “I can’t wait to fu-”

Barely aware of the fact that you had reached your floor, the ding of the elevator was enough to catch your attention and cut you off from completing the rest of your thought before the doors slid open, revealing a group of couples waiting for their ride down to the lobby. Frantically trying to play off the fact that if the elevator ride had gone any longer, you two definitely would have been seconds away from fucking in it, you gulped, giving Javi a nudge to his ribs to bring him back to reality, the two of you quickly trying to slide past the other guests without making a scene.

As the door closed behind you, you and Javi couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that you couldn’t seem to take an elevator trip alone without almost being caught making out like a pair of horny teenagers (which, to be fair, a pair of horny teenagers probably would have had more self control than the two of you being newlyweds on your honeymoon).

With your room only being a few doors down from the elevator, Javi began fumbling in the pocket of his shorts for his room key, working around the full hard on he already had under the fabric from how pent up he was. Quietly cursing under his breath until he found it, as soon as the card was swiping over the lock of the door, Javi was yanking you through into your room, instantly beginning to pull down the zipper to the back of your dress as you fumbled your way back to the bed.

Your dress fell to the floor in a crumpled pile before Javi was tossing you onto the mattress, shocked to see that you also hadn’t even bothered to put on a bra, revealing your glowing skin and obnoxious tanlines from your time spent out in the sun.

“Dirty fucking girl, not wearing anything underneath that dress for me. Fuck me, Hermosa. God, you’re so beautiful. So fucking perfect. My perfect wife.” Javi growled, dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed to part your legs, draping them over his shoulders as he admired the wet mess between your thighs, your slick already coating your folds, glistening in the dim light of your hotel room. “My perfect wife and her perfect fucking pussy already so wet for me.

Dragging his fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal as he ghosted over your throbbing clit, you let out a soft whimper in protest, sitting up on your elbows to look down at Javi, peppering kisses along the soft skin of your thighs.

“Javi, fuck- Baby, I wanted to go down on you. You look so good, I-I wanna taste you, Jav, p-please.” You moaned, your argument becoming less and less convincing as his kisses traveled to your center, nose brushing against your aching bundle of nerves before looking up at you with a lustful smirk, tightening his grip around your hips to hold you in place.

Javi shook his head as he laughed quietly to himself, watching you squirm and buck your hips towards his face, so desperately worked up and aching that the mess between your legs was really beginning to contradict your need to get Javi off before yourself.

“Cariño…” Javi tutted, almost mockingly, digging his fingertips deeper into the meat of your flesh, “You’re not going anywhere ‘till I get a taste. I can’t leave my poor wife all worked up like this, can I?”

Before you had a chance to respond, the flat of Javi’s tongue was dragging through your heat in a long, broad stroke, firmly pressing against your clit, looking up at you with a satisfied grin as you threw your head back in pleasure, a soft whimper escaping from your parted lips. As the last of his lick slid through your folds, you shuttered at the feeling of the metal of his chain ghosting over your cunt as it dangled from his neck, only to cry out as you could feel the other piece of jewelry he was wearing on his left ring finger sink deep into your entrance.

“Oh f-fuck-” You whimpered as another finger breached your tight hole, already sucking him in with your warm, wet walls while his digits curled, bumping against the sweet spot inside you that he knew made you crumble.

“That’s it, baby girl.” He cooed, thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt before diving back between your legs like a man starved, his tongue dancing in a swirling pattern of flicks and strokes between your folds as he lapped you up. You could feel yourself rolling your hips against his hand, whining at how thick and full he felt inside you, even more so now with the wedding band that had made its permanent home on his finger, taking every chance he could get to watch you cover the glistening gold ring in your arousal as yet another way to prove that you were his.

Javi could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his fingers as your bottom half squirmed against the sheets of the bed, the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten, tingling building at the base of your spine. Latching his lips around your clit, he began to suck at your sensitive nub, his hand thrusting faster and deeper into your cunt, feeling you slowly coming undone under his touch.

“Oh shit- fuck, fuck, Javi, I’m so close baby, oh fuck, fuck, I’m gonnaaahhhhhh-” Just like that, you were falling over the brink of collapse, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, pleasure flowing through every inch of your veins as you met your high, feeling the smirk of Javi’s smile pressed against your cunt as you soaked his face, his free hand wrapped around your hip, holding you in place for him.

“Fuck, I swear, I’ll never fucking get over that.” Javi mewled, pulling back enough to sit on his heels, admiring the wet and puffy mess your pussy had become, gently pulling his fingers out of your heat, looking down at the way your arousal coated his fingers, covering his wedding band. “Fucking soaked me, Hermosa. You like feeling my ring when I touch you like that, baby? Knowing I’m all yours forever?”

With your chest heaving in heavy breaths, you nodded frantically, blissed out look plastered across your face as you stared up at Javi, lust pooling in the dark brown of his eyes as he brought his soaked fingers to your mouth, tugging at your bottom lip as, opening your mouth for you to suck him clean, the warm and tangy taste of you still fresh on his skin.

“You taste so fucking sweet, baby. Mi esposa sabes muy dulce.” (My wife tastes so sweet) Javi cooed, gently tugging his fingers out of your mouth, standing up to lean over the bed, caging your body under his as his lips crashed against yours in a needy mess of longing and desperation.

You could feel how painfully hard he was through the fabric of his shorts, his bulge straining against the seams of his zipper as he rubbed against your thigh, laying on top of you with one arm propped up beside your head, the other gently cupping your face, thumb rubbing back and forth along your cheek as he kissed you with the tender intensity that set your insides ablaze with desire, longing, no, needing to feel him buried deep inside you as you screamed his name.

It really had been your intention to suck Javi off the moment you had gotten back to your room, to drop to your knees and worship the beautifully handsome man you now got to call your husband and turn him into the same type of moaning, whimpering mess that he had just made you, but with the ferocity of each kiss and the instinctual jerk of Javi’s hips, there was nothing you wanted more than to be filled by the sweet sting of his cock pounding into you, over and over.

“J-Javi, fuck- I need to feel you baby, please. Fuck, I wanna feel you so deep inside me.” You whispered, your teeth tugging at Javi’s earlobe as he peppered your jaw and neck with kisses, feeling the audible groan in his chest at your request, followed by a deep sigh as he tried to compose himself from the mess he was already becoming.

“Yeah? That’s what you want, sweet girl? Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets.” He rasped, a devilish grin spread between his cheeks as he sat back to pull his shirt over his head, followed by his shorts and boxers, leaving him in nothing but the gold chain still dangling around his neck as he reached down to stroke his cock, red and dripping with precum before leaning back down to line up with your entrance.

You could feel your breath hitch as his tip brushed through your folds, rubbing gently against your clit as he collected your arousal to coat his length, looking down to watch as his length sunk deep into your cunt, the both of you letting out ragged moans at the sensation.

Javi paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the sweet sting of his stretch as he filled you, his tip kissing your cervix while his hips met yours. The fullness made your brain go blank, completely at a loss for words as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you, pulling himself out enough to sink his whole length back into your cunt, each thrust making you whimper and moan, desperate for more.

“F-fuck, give me more, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your hand wrapping around his bicep, fingertips digging into his flexing muscles.

“Yeah? You want more, Hermosa?” Javi mewled, smirking to himself at the blissed out mess you were already becoming as the pace of his hips rutting into you began to quicken.

As each thrust became faster, the gold chain draped around his neck began to bounce against his chest, his body close enough to yours to feel the cool metal brush against your face with each snap of his hips into yours, the sight of his necklace dangling over you as you stared up at the furrowed and focused look painting his face. The image alone of him wearing that chain was enough to make you feel like you were going to cum on the spot, but as you lay caged beneath the weight of his broad body, feeling nothing but his warm skin and chain rub against you, you were nearly convinced it was going to be over for you right then and there.

Without even thinking, you lifted your head up off the bed just enough to grab the chain between your teeth, tugging him closer to you, the sudden yank making his eyes go wide in surprise as the two of you came nose to nose, foreheads brushing against each other before his lips were on yours again, entangling you in an all consuming kiss without faltering in his pace.

“Fuck, you look so good.” You moaned, your lips parting just enough from his to whisper your praises into his ear. “You look so hot with this fucking chain, Jesus Christ.”

Your comment had a low, breathy laugh escaping from his chest, shaking his head to himself almost in disbelief at how enthralled you were with him.

“Me? Baby girl, you have no idea.” He cooed, slowing his thrusts to sit back on his haunches, readjusting you to bring your knees pressed to your chest, leaning back down, running his hands along your body, up your arms until he had them above your head, pinned down to the bed in his grasp. “You know how many guys I’ve seen staring at you since we’ve been here? How many dirty fucking looks I’ve had to give them? Maybe this ring on your finger isn’t enough, mi amor.”

“W-what do you, fuck- what do mean?” You whimpered, the new position opening you up in a way that had you feeling every inch of Javi as he sank his cock even deeper into your cunt, splitting you open in the most delicious way possible, your brain barely working enough to let your words escape from your mouth.

“I mean,” Javi groaned, tightening his grip to hold you in place, his eyes growing darker with desire with another deep, long thrust into your heat, “That maybe, I need to fuck a baby into, Osita. Fuck a baby into my beautiful fucking wife, and let everyone see that you’re mine with our kid growing inside you.”

Javi’s words sent a shiver down your spine, the thought alone making you whimper- You and Javi both had undeniable cases of baby fever, and now that you were finally married and had agreed that your birth control wasn’t going to be a part of your packing list, the prospect that in 9 months from now, you could have a third member to your family? That was enough to have you close to finishing right then and there.

A gulp traveling down your throat before a long exhale, trying to find the words to respond to his proposition, your voice trembling in an anxious excitement.

“F-fuck- Oh my god, yes. Fuck a baby into me, Javi. Let me, oh shit- let me make you a daddy.”

“Jesus Fucking Christ…” Javi groaned, gritting his teeth, trying his best to maintain his own composure, taking a long exhale before his gaze met yours again, a fierce kind of determination and promise pooling in the deep chocolate brown of his eyes, leaning his body on top of yours, pushing your knees closer to your chest, opening you up to an even deeper angle as his mouth crashed into yours, beginning to pick up his pace once again as his hips snapped into yours. “That’s what you want, Hermosa? Fuck, I’ll give it to you, baby. Oh shit- Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets, remember? You want a baby? Fuck- I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you I’ll fuck a baby into you right now.”

You could feel the all too familiar tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine once again, Javi’s cock pounding perfectly into your g-spot over and over again, the hairs at the base of his length grinding against your throbbing clit, sending you to the brink of collapse with each thrust in and out of your cunt.

“Yes, oh my god- yes, I w-want it so bad. P-please, baby, fuck.” You whined, starting to stumble over your words as you could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his cock, the coil in your core tightening to the point of nearly snapping.

“Fuck- say it again. Tell me- mierda- tell me how badly you want it.” Javi moaned, his thrusts becoming slopier and more desperate as he could feel himself on the verge of chasing his own high, knowing all too well you were almost hitting yours.

“I want you to fill me up, Javi. Fuck, fuck, fuck- I want it so bad. I want you to knock me up and give me a baby, please, baby, oh my god- please.” You were all but panting at this point, your legs starting to tremble as your cunt clenched tighter and tighter around Javi’s cock, the overwhelming sensation of his fullness, promise of pregnancy, and that damn chain dangling in your face was enough to finally send you over the edge. “Fuck, Javi, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, I’m so close baby, I’m gonna, oh shit- I’m gonna cu-ahhhhhhh.”

Those were the last words you were able to muster before you were screaming out Javi’s name as you came, euphoria and ecstasy radiating through every inch of your body, your orgasm crashing through you with so much intensity you could have sworn you were seeing stars.

Watching you fall apart beneath him, soaking his cock in your arousal as you came had Javi only moments behind you, the rhythm of his hips beginning to stutter, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each others combined with your wanton moans and whimpers and curses under your breath making him begin to babble incoherently.

“That’s it, Osita. That’s my good girl. Fucking soak my cock, baby. Cum all over me before I, fuck me- fuck myself so deep in you it’ll fucking take. Holy fuck- Fuck, I’m gonna cum too. Gonna fucking fill you up. Give you all of me. Fuck, I’ll give you everyting, baby, mierda- everything you’ll ever wa-ahhhhhh”

With one last final thrust, Javi was spilling deep inside you, warm ropes of his spend coating your walls, milking himself of every single last drop before collapsing on top of you, the warmth and weight and of his body sinking on top of your chest as the two you sighed in sync, trying to catch your breath with long, labored huffs.

As Javi felt himself begin to soften, a groan rumbled low in his chest while he pulled out, feeling the mix of your spend dripping out your hole, coating the inside of your thighs in glistening juices. You let out an involuntary whimper at the loss of fullness inside you, your head falling back on the mattress in blissed out satisfaction, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to bring yourself back to reality after floating away in post-colotial bliss.

“Holy fuck…” You whispered to yourself, lifting your head back up to see Javi sitting back on his heels, admiring the mess of the two of you pooling between your legs.

“So fucking pretty, Hermosa.” He mewled, peppering kisses down the soft skin of your thighs, making his way back towards your core. Before you could even realize what was happening, Javi’s head was back between your legs, one broad stroke of his tongue collecting the tangy, salty mixture leaking out of your cunt and lapping it back into your entrance quickly replacing his mouth with his fingers to push the mixture of your spend even further into you.

Looking up at you, slick covering his mustache and smug grin spread between his cheeks, Javi curled his fingers just enough to make you yelp as he pressed against your g-spot, considering how worked up and overstimulated you already were.

“Gotta make sure I keep you full of me, baby. Can’t let anything go to waste.” Javi smirked, gently pulling out his fingers, resting his hands on your thighs, drawing soft circles on your skin with his thumbs.

You tried to sit back up, propping yourself on your elbows before Javi’s body was caging over you once again, slowly lowering himself down until your back was flat against the bed, cradling your jaw as guided you down with soft, slow kisses, feeling his chain brush against your chin he pulled away from your lips.

“You’re not going anywhere, Momma. My wife wants a baby? Then I’m doing everything I can to give her one. Whatever she wants.” Javi smirked, pressing a tender kiss onto your forehead as his hand caressed your face, brushing your skin just gently enough to tickle you, a little giggle escaping from your lips as your eyes met his sweet puppy dog ones.

“You’re ridiculous, you menace.” You laughed, playfully nudging Javi as he rolled over next to you on the side of the bed, wrapping his arm around you, tugging you to lay against his bare chest, your hand draping over his stomach before crawling up his chest, wrapping his gold chain around your fingers. “Hmmmm whatever your wife wants, huh?” You smirked, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.

“Whatever she wants, Hermosa.”

“Your wife wants you to never take this damn thing off again.”

Taglist:

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pboogerswbb · 8 days ago

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SO IT GOES - chapter 15

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual language and SMUT VERY FILTHY STRAP TOO OKAY BEWARNED Wordcount: 6,6K A/C: yeah so... we're back. this is so filthy. ALSO I DIDN'T PROOFREAD THIS. i love y'all go enjoy this you freaks

Before London

“Are you sure it’s okay I come?” I ask, smoothing over the all black dress, the satin feeling smooth underneath my fingertips. I watch in the reflection of the mirror as Paige fixes her loose curls over my shoulder. “Did you even ask Stewie?”

“Baby you’re my girlfriend. It’s fine,” she replies absentmindedly, lifting the white collar of her shirt to place the black tie around it. Girlfriend. The term still gave me goosebumps all over. That’s who I was. Paige Bueckers’ girlfriend. I had promised myself I wouldn’t be anyone’s girlfriend for a long time. But in the three weeks I had agreed to be one I had found it not to be as scary as my memory had tried to convince me. Nothing had changed really, we were still us. Still had to keep it a secret.

“Does she know?” I ask, pinning the loose strands of my bun down. Paige chews on her bottom lip, trying to do her tie, long fingers fumbling with it.

“Yeah, she said she’s gonna bring Marta,” the blonde says, having to undo her tie. “Don’t worry, she won’t say nothin’.”

“If you say so,” I sigh, cringing as I watch Paige struggle. “Oh dear heavens, let me.”

I turn and slap the girl’s hands off the tie. I could do it in seconds, but my hands linger as I tie it up for her, taking my time feeling the burn of her blue eyes on my skin. Paige’s hand wraps around my waist, sliding down to feel my ass through the fabric.

“We don’t gotta go tho, if you don’t wanna,” she murmurs in that voice that’s trying to convince me I want something I had never even thought of. Good thing I was smarter than her.

“Paige,” I warn, acting strict as if it didn’t please me how badly she wanted me. Holding the end of the tie, I slide my other hand up the knot, tightening it enough around her neck.

“Fine,” she groans, heavy lidded eyes staring down at me. “We wearing silver tonight?”

“That’s what I was thinking,” I murmur, folding the collar of the white button up down. We had begun a habit of wearing the same colour jewelry, gold some days, silver on others. It made us feel connected, even when we had to pretend to be worlds apart with the Wings.

I finally meet Paige’s blue eyes, a jolt running through me seeing the hunger which she stared at me with. The blonde grins that lopsided smile that charmed the nation. “You look sexy,” she murmurs, slapping my ass.

A wide smile forms on my plump lips, green eyes flickering between her eyes and lips. Just one kiss might lead to something more, as it so often did with me and her. But my body was dying for it. My one vice. Yanking the red tie, I pull the blonde in, closing the distance between our lips.

Our lips slide against one another in a sloppy exchange, the hunger amping up quickly. I keep tight hold of the tie, pulling her impossibly closer. Paige, thrilled by control I took and the pressure around her throat groans, exhaling heavily out of her nose.

“We need to go,” I murmur breathlessly. Paige nods but neither of us do anything to stop.

“I’m serious,” I mumble as the girl begins to kiss down my neck, nose inhaling my perfume as much as it could.

“Yea, yea me too,” she whispers, both her hands kneading my ass. “Just gimmie four minutes mama.”

Considering her offer, I tilt my head to the side letting Paige’s wonderful, soft lips kiss against it tenderly igniting a burn between my thighs. Maybe four minutes wouldn’t be so bad? No, it always led to more. Four minutes always turned into forever with her

“No,” I giggle, pushing the girl off. “Let me put my heels on. Let’s go.”

“Wait!” Paige stops me by my shoulders that were sparkling from the body highlighter I’d used. “I got you sumn.”

With that, the girl digs through her suitcase until she finds a large wrapped box, handing it over with both her hands. I grab it, gleaming. I had quickly figured out that Paige’s love language was definitely gift giving, her bringing me souvenirs from all sorts of places whenever she travelled alone, delivering me flowers and getting me jewelry for no other reason than “just because”.

“Open it.”

At her words I carefully unwrap the corners, neatly pulling the wrapper off. A box is revealed, a white text decorating the top spelling out Christian Louboutin Paris. My mouth drops, when I see the inside - the classic black heel with a bright red bottom. My heart stutters as I sit down on the end of the bed in awe, staring at the pair of shoes in my hands. She got me Louboutins. That’s not a three-weeks-in gift. No, that’s something more. It didn’t scare me like it might have a month ago. I knew if there was something Paige loved it was spoiling her loved ones.

“Oh darling,” I gasp, watching the blonde kneel in front of me and grab the shoes.

“May I?”

Nodding my flushed face, I watch Paige’s big hands wrap around the arch of my foot and slip the heel on, repeating it with each one. The blonde lifts my leg by my ankle, kissing it gently before placing it back down.

“Perfect fit,” she hums, satisfied. “You like em?”

“I love them Paige,” I gasp, standing back up with my girlfriend's help. “Thank you so much.”

She looks me up and down, shaking her head disbelief. “Can’t believe that’s all mine,” she murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss on my cheek.

“Oh she’s the exact same! Socks. Everywhere!”

I laugh, sipping on my red wine and nodding enthusiastically. “Yes! It can not be that difficult to take the socks and put them into the laundry basket!”

“They’re not even clean! Smelly and sweaty socks! Horrible!” Marta agrees, waving her glass around animatedly as she speaks.

“Yo, they’re not smelly!” Paige interrupts, shaking her head. “‘S not even that bad. Y’all are sock-shaming me.”

“I wouldn’t be sock-shaming you if they weren’t all over my beautiful living room,” I scoff.

“See, I got this one to stop and now I have toys all over my beautiful living room,” Marta chuckles, toying with the glass of wine between her fingertips. “You just have to train them well.”

“Ohhh,” I giggle. “So I have to train you,” I tell Paige, feeling her hand squeezing my thigh through the satin.

Paige wiggles her eyebrows, that familiar, stupid, charming grin on her face. “That’s kinda freaky.”

I narrow my eyes at her, fighting a smile. I knew that look. “Paige Madison!” I gasp. The grin falls off her face, an embarrassed redness spreading along her cheeks. Marta and Stewie both laugh. The night had been fun, conversation flowing easy between us and the couple. Me and Marta had obviously bonded quickly over our European backgrounds, finding humor in the habits of our American girls, such as their horrible table manners.

The restaurant was dimly lit, gentle jazz playing softly in the background. It was very fancy, definitely something Marta had picked out. The soft flame of the candle illuminates Paige’s tan skin in a warm light, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. She looked so effortlessly beautiful. I don’t think I had ever been so attracted to a person. Never in my past relationships I had looked at someone and physically felt butterflies - but whenever I looked at Paige I felt them fluttering away in my stomach. Every damn time.

“Forgive me,” Paige pleads, clutching at her chest dramatically.

“For a kiss,” I smile, already imagining how I’ll be pulling that tie later. Just not here. Not yet.

The blonde looks around, shaking her head subtly. “There’s a girl that been looking at me. I think she might know me.”

Exhaling, I look around too to indeed find a brown haired girl at a table, whispering around with her friends and staring at my girlfriend. A twitch of possessiveness grows inside me, wanting me to kiss her and claim her here and then. But I knew better, so I turn back to my salmon and eat it quietly.

“You still keeping it under wraps then?” Stewie asks, following the exchange closely.

“We don’t have a choice,” I respond. “Not unless I’m willing to lose my job. And if I lose my job I lose my visa, so.”

“What?” The older woman leans back, staring at me with furrowed eyes, her dark hair flowing past her shoulders. “Lose your job?”

“My boss doesn’t allow it, anyone dating the players.”

Marta scoffs. “Is that even allowed?”

I chuckle, shrugging. “Does it matter? She could just fire me for any reason and find a person to take over my position. I know how disposable I am.”

“No you’re not. Linda loves you,” Paige answers. “I think we should just tell her.”

This again. Frustration builds in my gut, making me clench my jaw. This was a very common conversation between me and the blonde. She simply didn’t understand the stakes - because it wasn’t she who would lose her job, it would be me. If this got out she’d still have her jersey, her sponsorships, her fame. Me? I’d lose everything.

“Definitely do not tell her if she’s said that,” Stewie disagrees.

“Yeah, guess you’re right.” Paige mumbles.

“Wait so you’re here on a work visa, no? What are you doing after the season?” Marta asks me, raising her brows. I exhale heavily, I had been trying not to think about it.

“Go home I guess, try to find a job here or get my position back for next season. It’s still a little uh�� undecided.”

Paige clears her throat uncomfortably, shifting on her seat. I could tell she didn’t want to think about it any more than I did.

“Damn, that sucks,” Stewie mumbles, putting down her fork. “If you need help looking I know some people, I can ask around.”

“Or you could just get married,” Marta jokes, looking through her purse.

Stewie’s gesture warms my heart. Truthfully, I had been trying to look for other jobs - no one wanted to hire the British girl and pay for the visa just to get a worker they could easily find in the States. But I am also far too proud to ever accept a favour like that, not unless I have something to offer in return.

“Oh shit,” Marta mumbles, scrolling on her phone. “Honey, we have to go. The sitter has a fever.”

“No way,” Stewie sighs, quickly downing the last bit of her wine. “We better get the check,” she mumbles, eyes flickering around for a waiter.

“Nahhh, you go. I got it,” Paige waves them off easily. Something about the confidence and practiced ease of the gesture forced me to squeeze my thighs together underneath the table. “Go home.”

“You sure?” Breanna asks, standing up and throwing her black denim jacket on. Paige nods assertively, while giving a shrill look to a man walking by, clearly checking me out. I feel her body press tighter against mine, like she wanted everyone to know she owned me.

“I think you have to go to that event alone tomorrow hun, I’ll have to stay with the kids,” Marta mumbles, fixing her hair absentmindedly.

“I guess so,” Stewie sighs, disappointed. Paige beside me gives me a look that I can’t read.

“We can babysit.”

Snapping my head, I turn to the blonde. “We can?”

“Why not?” She shrugs, “I’m great with kids. Trust.”

Of course she was. She was practically just another child herself.

“No, we couldn’t ask.” Stewie refuses. “Those two are a handful.”

I chuckle, nodding towards the blonde. “So is this one,” I joke, getting an offended scoff in response. “We would love to help. Really.”

Breanna and Marta eye each other for a moment, clearly having some sort of nonverbal discussion amongst themselves. It takes everything in me not to lean against Paige’s broad shoulder, I couldn’t wait to get home. Not for any lustful reason, genuinely what I craved most in the outside world was the gentle touches, the heavenly kisses or merely the way she brushed against me whenever I was near.

“Are you sure about this?” Marta asks, my eyes snapping from my girlfriend to the woman.

“Definitely,” Paige responds with a sureness that would convince anyone. I couldn’t help but admire the way she showed up for those who needed her without needing anything in return. It wasn’t just me, it was family, friends, community. She was always there. Maybe she wasn’t the best with words or communicating. Because she didn’t communicate through words but actions. Maybe that would make it all worth suffering over scattered socks.

New York City is warm on the July evening, but the slight breeze makes me carefully place my jacket over Izara’s shoulders as we wait for our car to arrive. The dark haired girl smiles bashfully but grabs hold of the fabric. The leather swallowed her, cocooning Izzie with warmth. The loose strands of her bun flow in the air, covering some of her face. I can’t help but reach over and brush them behind her ear - I couldn’t bear not to see her eyes. Those sharp, knowing, challenging eyes I had grown to look for everywhere I went.

“Thank you,” she hums, fluttering her long lashes at me. I nearly groan from how bad I want to kiss her, to taste her lips tinted red with wine. My insides twist at the sound of her smooth but low voice, a warmth like no other spreading over me.

“Do you remember that first time we shared a car months ago?” Izzie asks, the corners of her mouth lifted upwards.

“Yeah,” I grin, looking to the ground thinking about how I had probably never been so attracted to anyone in my entire life. “You were intimidating as hell.”

“I could tell you were scared of me,” she laughs, looking around the busy street for the car. “I thought you didn’t like me.”

I shake my head, laughing too at the memory of how I’d acted a fool. “Nah, I was just so attracted to you like, the minute I saw you.”

“Me too,” she admits, green eyes twinkling at me under the street lamps.

“Forreal?” I ask surprised. If this was true she hadn’t let it show. Or I had been too blind to notice.

“Yes Paige, forreal.”

I can’t help but chuckle at her use of the word, affection overwhelming me. “Look at you using my lingo.”

Izara rolls her eyes, pushing me away by my face. “Do not think for a second you’ll Americanize me.”

“You’re so cute just wanna eat you up,” I laugh easily, wrapping my hands around her waist from behind.

“Is that a promise?” She teases, swaying us back and forth.

“Always ma,” I lean over to say into her ear, fighting every cell in me to start kissing her. “I like you so bad, y’know that?” The words didn’t seem sufficient to really express how I felt, all of them too vapid to describe the stirring inside me. “So bad it makes me stupid.”

Izzie laughs, nodding knowingly. “I like you too baby,” she hums. “So much.”

Just then, our car finally pulls up, stopping right in front of us. I thank God for rewarding my patience, opening the door and slipping in after my beautiful girl who I liked, no adored, more than anything. That word doesn’t feel right either, too lackluster, too void of what I was feeling. I’m sure I’d find the right word someday.

“Okay so snacks are in the fridge. Feel free to eat anything you’d like. And I’lll have my ringer up if you need to call, oh also don’t worry about cleaning up-”

“Marta, baby,” Breanna chuckles, taking her wife’s hand. “I think they got it.”

“I promise, we’ll be okay,” Izzie smiles. “Go have fun, I’ll have my phone on me.”

Marta sighs, looking at us two before going up to the kids who are sitting on the couch, both watching Bluey.

��Mommy’s gonna be back soon okay? Be good to Paige and Zari. I love you,” she mumbles to each of them, kissing their foreheads before returning to the door. “Okay okay okay, we need to go now.”

“I’ll carry you out if I have to,” Stewie jokes, helping Marta put her coat on. “Alright, bye now. See you in a couple hours.”

“Bye y’all, have fun,” I wave, closing the door behind the couple. Carefully, I turn to Ruby and Theo expecting at the very least a few cries. But the pair sit happily on the couch, too invested in the cartoon.

“Hey my loves,” Izzie smiles to the two of them, crouching on the couch in front of the kids. “I got you some surprises.”

This catches Ruby’s attention, her eyes flickering to Izara’s bag as she digs through it and pulls out a few pots of playdough we had picked up this morning.

“Have you ever played with this?” She asks, waving the pots around. But Ruby ignores her.

“Why do you talk like that?” She asks, clearly confused. I burst into laughter, Izara trying to hide her amusement to not offend the little girl.

“Ohh, see, I have an accent,” she explains kindly. “I’m from England. It’s in Europe.”

“Did you fly here?” Ruby questions, scooting to the edge of the couch closer to Iz.

“I sure did,” she smiles. “On a plane.”

“I flied on the sky with a big plane,” the little girl explains.

“Wow, really?” Izzie asks enthusiastically. “Did you like it?”

The little girl thinks for a while. “I was scawed. Theo cried too much.”

Iz laughs, scooting closer to her carefully. “Aw, maybe he was nervous.”

“It was loud. I covered my ears. Like this,” Ruby demonstrates, covering her ears with her little hands. Me and Izara laugh at the girl, her hair in sweet little pigtails. “What’s that?” Her tiny hand points to the yellow pots in Izzie’s hands.

“Oh, this is playdough. Have you ever played with it before?”

“What’s playdoh?”

“Well how about we go to the table and look at it? Would you like to come with me?” Carefully, Izzie holds out her hand for the young girl. She goes back and forth, until in a moment of bravery, she grabs Izara’s finger, and begins to wobble over to the kitchen. I watch the two of them, my heart fluttering at the sight.

“Theooo, cmere bro,” I coo at the younger boy who smiles at me easily, holding up his little arms and letting me carry him over to the kitchen table where Izzie and Ruby are already molding the playdough.

“I make a tiara and put it on my head,” Ruby gleams, beginning to place the playdough all over her hair.

“Oh goodness,” Iz stops her just before disaster strikes, grabbing the dough from her hands. “How about we keep the playdough on the table, and make crowns out of something else?”

Ruby sighs dramatically - until her eyes light up. “Wait!” she gasps, taking off running. Her little feet quickly jog back with two plastic tiaras in her hands. “Now I’m a princess!” She giggles, placing one of them in her head. “You too!”

“For me?” Izzie smiles, taking the crown from the girl. Somehow the plastic tiara gently laid on her black hair makes her sparkle in a way I had never seen before.

“Yes! You’re a princess too!”

“Hey!” I gasp, letting Theo squeeze and mold the dough while sitting on my knee. “I’m not a princess?”

“Hmm,” Ruby thinks, eyeing me up and down. “You can be a cowboy. Or a dog.”

“Woof woof!” Theo cheers, clapping his hands together and getting the dough all over the floor.

Izzie laughs gently, molding a heart out of the red playdough and handing it to me. I almost melt. So I can’t help it when I grab a hold of her soft hand, kissing it gently.

“Are you two married?” Ruby asks without missing a beat. Me and my Izara chuckle, my skin turning hot.

“She wishes,” Iz teases, kicking me underneath the table. “We’re not. But we’re girlfriends.”

“Okay and do you have a baby?” The little girl continues. A redness spreads over Izara’s cheeks as I wiggle my brows at her. I don’t need to say anything. She knows exactly what’s on my mind.

“We don’t,” Iz says, her green eyes moving to the little girl, gasping when she finally realised Ruby had combined all the colours into one brown pile despite her long discussion with the little girl.

“Ruby, what are you doing?” She asks, covering her mouth with her hand.

“I make a rainbow!”

I scoff lightheartedly. “That’s not a rainbow, it’s brown.”

The little girl tilts her head, looking at the brown pile before beginning to laugh hysterically. “It’s a poop rainbow!”

Theo erupts into giggles, banging his hands on the table.

“You regretting it yet my love?” I chuckle, watching Paige wiping sweat off her forehead after taking turns spinning the two kids up in the air. Mind you, this had been going on for the past 20 minutes.

“Again, again!” Theo cheers, pulling on the blonde’s sweatpants.

“God help me,” Paige mumbles to me and herself, pulling her white t-shirt off over her head, leaving the girl in a black sports bra, sweat dripping down her veiny arms.

“More Paigey!” Ruby whines, jumping up and down.

“Okay my loves, I think Paigey needs a little break,” I say gently, handing Theo a toy dinosaur to redirect his energy. The little boy sits down, happily roaring to himself as he plays. But I can see the quiver in Ruby’s lower lip as disappointment takes over.

“Moreeee,” she sniffles and then erupts into tears, beginning to cry loudly.

Paige’s eyes widen in a panic. “I can go one more ti-”

But I stop her, shaking my head. Paige can’t just bend to the girl’s will because of some tears.

Getting down on Ruby’s level, I grab her tiny hands into mine, establishing eye contact.

“Ruby, hey Ruby, look at me,” I coo, my thumbs brushing against the soft skin. “You’re feeling really disappointed huh?”

The little girl nods, cheeks red and filled with tears. “Really wanted to spin,” she says in a shaky voice.

“I know darling,” I say empathetically. “You know what always helps me when I’m sad? Taking some deep breaths. Would you want to do some with me?”

Ruby nods sadly, beginning to follow my breathing pattern - inhaling through your nose, exhaling through your mouth. We do that until she stops tearing up, Paige’s ocean blue eyes eyeing us carefully.

“Would you like a hug Ruby?” I carefully ask. The little girl immediately wraps her short arms around me, squeezing tight. I can’t help but smile, holding her tight and lifting my eyes to find Paige staring, her eyes soft and gentle as she watches me take care of the girl.

“I got an idea Ruby,” she says, crouching down beside. “You wanna build a fort?”

“Wow! That’d be great huh?” I ask the girl who finally lets go of me, nodding excitedly. “I’ll go make a snack while you do that.”

In the kitchen I begin to cut slices out of apples behind the corner, listening to the muffled laughter and joy erupting from the living room. A wide smile spreads onto my face as I bite into an apple slice, butterflies filling my stomach at the sound of Paige playing with the children. In this moment I could burst with the affection I felt for her. There was something about seeing her with kids, the way she made them giggle effortlessly, the way her strong arms held them, protected them, took care of them. Something about it had me going weak in the knees.

I jump slightly, feeling a hand wrap around my waist from behind, the scent of sandalwood cocooning me.

“You’re amazing, y’know that?” Paige murmurs into my ear, her hot breath causing shivers to run up and down my spine. “You’re so good with em.”

I chuckle softly, letting out a shaky breath when the blonde’s soft lips brush against the crook of my neck. “You’re everything,” I reply, my voice turning vulnerable.

Paige’s strong hands spin me around by my waist, now eye to eye with her. She doesn’t say anything at first, just stares - like she’s trying to comprehend something. My breath hitches, chest tightening under her gaze. She looks at me with her pupils blown. chest rising and falling a little too fast, like her heart couldn’t keep quiet, soft cheeks flushed red. I wasn’t sure why or what it meant.

“Fuck I like you so much,” she murmurs, making me blush. I knew exactly how she felt. I felt it too, or at least I thought I did.

“PAIGEYY!” A loud scream erupts from the living room, followed by the tapping of little feet. “Hurry up! I wanna play Frozen and be Elsa in my fort!”

The little girl peaks around the corner, Paige instinctively taking a step back to create space between us.

“You can be Sven!” Ruby says, waving around a pair of toy reindeer antlers.

There’s a soreness pulsing through all my muscles when I kick off my shoes, placing them neatly in the corner of the hotel room and walking in. Paige follows behind me, her hoodie coming up and showcasing her lower stomach as she stretches her arms.

“I’m so beat,” she murmurs. I nod, beginning to undress eagerly to get into my favourite pyjamas - Paige’s shirt. I pull off my top and shorts, and I'm left to dig through the suitcase in my satin lingerie. Suddenly I feel the blonde’s hands on me, unbuckling my bra for me from behind, releasing my breasts from its hold as it falls off me.

“Paige,” I scold lightheartedly, but she doesn’t speak, her fingers slide around me and brush against my nipples making them grow hard. With a shaky exhale, I lean my head back against her shoulder, my hands holding the white button down I slept in while she kneads my breasts, perfectly fitting into the palms of her large hands. Those perfect fucking hands.

“Want you mama,” she whispers into my ear, kissing along it. I moan gently, giggling a little.

“I need to- ah- wash my face first darling,” I mumble. “Keep it in your pants just a little bit longer.”

Paige groans but let’s go, rubbing her jaw in frustration. “Just be quick.”

I hurry into the bathroom, my meticulous skincare routine impossible to make quick despite my girlfriend’s wishes. Finally, after 20 minutes or so I walk out to the low rumbling of Paige’s snores, finding her laid on her back in just a sports bra and boxers, arm thrown over her face. That’s mine.

I merely watch for a moment, taking her in, taking the day in. A warm feeling overwhelms me, and the urge to curl up next to the blonde grows bigger than ever before. Everybody wanted her, yet she was all mine, worshipping the ground I walked on. Little did she know I felt the exact same.

Tiptoeing around the room, I turn off the lights, crawling into bed beside her, covering both of us in the white cotton of the duvet. Before I fall asleep, I lean into her neck, smelling the sandalwood one more time before my eyelids grow too heavy to keep admiring her.

It can’t be more than ten in the morning when I feel wet, sloppy kisses being placed into the back of my neck, fingers pushing my hair to the side. I stir, still half asleep, nuzzling my face into the pillow as I lie on my stomach. A gentle touch running down my spine slowly, goosebumps spreading everywhere.

Another kiss, now on my shoulder as fingers reach under me to undo the two buttons I had been sensible to do last night. I stir again, my body subconsciously helping by allowing the white button up to be pulled off my body, leaving me in a light pink satin thong.

“Mmh,” I hum against the cotton, bringing my hand to rub the sleepiness off my eyes when there’s a gentle shush in my ear.

“Go back to sleep ma,” Paige coos. Another wet kiss on my ear this time, sending jolts to my core. “Just wanna eat your pussy.”

Oh. Suddenly I feel more awake, and even eager, my legs spreading without me even noticing. Paige does though, grinning proudly as she kisses between my shoulderblades, wet, hot, messy kisses leaving a glistening trail down my spine. My eyes maintain closed, my brain still partly asleep but my body’s alert, my back curving my ass into the air when Paige’s lips go lower and lower.

The weight of the blonde on the mattress shifts as she sits up to admire me, both her hands gently grabbing my ass and kneading, seeing the way my light pink thong covering my cunt is peeking out between my thighs, teasing her. I feel the air hitting my core as she grabs my ass more harshly, my back arching involuntarily joined by a desperate whine. How quickly I’d gone from being asleep to dying to have her.

“I know mama, I know,” she murmurs lovingly, fingertips stroking up and down my thighs, spreading them apart just slightly. “I’ma take care of you. Gonna make it all better.”

Her words comfort me only a little, but they don’t fix the aching, dripping sensation between my thighs. Finally, Paige’s fingertips dip underneath the band of my thongs as she pulls them down my thighs with a gasp.

“Damn you’re so wet,” she hisses, slowly spreading my legs the slightest bit. “You dream of me or sumn?”

I’m too dazed and gone to answer, my only response to lift my ass off the mattress enough to give Paige a good view.

“Relax,” she whispers and finally I feel her warm tongue lick along my slit, flat against my dripping pussy once, twice, three times.

“Oh,” I gasp, my fists gripping the white sheets underneath me. Paige moans at the taste of me, pulling back to fill her lungs with air before diving fully in.

Suddenly it’s like she’s everywhere, moving slow but with precise movements, making me feel her all over.

“Baby,” I whimper as Paige’s hands spread my lips apart, burying her face deep enough into my cunt so I feel her nose pressing inside me. “Shit.”

She’s moaning harder than I am, eyes rolled back as she pulls back to spit into my folds, just to dive right back in and slurp all of it up.

“Shit’s so wet huh?” Paige mumbles against my clit, sending vibrations everywhere. My eyes begin to water, the pillow muffling my moans.

Needing more, I prop myself up onto my knees so my ass is in the air. Easier access. Paige groans, pulling back to admire my wet, pulsing pussy - one of her favourite things to do. I swear sometimes she just lied between my legs looking at me.

“Fucking shit,” she cusses, spreading me apart to see the gushes of wetness dripping out of me with every throb, quickly bringing her tongue back to my cunt as to not waste a drop.

“Paige,” I whimper, legs trembling with need. I needed to cum. Bad. “Don’t stop.”

“Yes ma’am,” she replies without hesitation. Suddenly she’s back at it, her tongue swirling in my folds, circling my clit until she begins to lap me up the way only she knew how.

“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop,” I gasp. Paige nods against my pussy, the sounds of her slurping me up filthy. “Make me feel so good.”

“Shit…” Paige mumbles, “tell me again, please.”

“You make- ah shit, make me feel so good baby,” I moan, the throbbing becoming harder and harder to as I got closer.

She moans at my words, they only egg her on. It’s like she’s everywhere, gripping my thighs, slurping me up, taking my clit into her mouth and sucking on it gently. I can’t help it anymore.

“Baby I- I’m- I’m gonna-“ I gasp, my moaning turning uncontrollable as she eats me. A simple nod is enough to have me rolling off the edge, grasping the sheets and gasping for air as I cum.

The blonde praises me through it, her words a distant comfort as waves of ecstasy wash over me, my wetness covering her entire face.

Weakly, I roll onto my back. My chest heaves and my eyes remain closed, but Paige crawls up from between my legs and begins to kiss me. Tenderly, lovingly, with so much emotion it surprises me.

The taste of me is all over her face as my mouth wrap around her bottom lip, pulling on it gently. She grins in response, stroking my sides and arms to bring me down.

“Iz?” She asks. Her voice is uncharacteristically shaky and nervous which alerts me enough to open my eyes.

“Yes my darling?”

She meets my gaze with her blue eyes filled with lust.

“I bought it, thought we could try… y’know.”

Oh I immediately know. I gulp. The strap had been left untouched waiting for the right moment. Maybe this was it?

Paige, too nervous to wait for me to speak, begins to kiss my neck, her breathing irregular and ragged.

“I just wanna feel you,” she murmurs, trailing downwards with wet kisses. She sucks on my collarbone, surely leaving a red mark. “Please.”

Paige’s big hands come to my full breasts, kneading gently. My hands finds its way into her hair, guiding her mouth to my nipple in a moment of desperation.

“Ahh,” I moan softly, Paige’s soft lips sucking my nipple and breast, making my back arch in response. I swear something about her mouth on my tits had me almost cumming sometimes.

“Please, just wanna be inside you ma,” she whimpers. Looking down I see her eyes watering as she her eyes roll into her head, so desperate and hungry I nearly had her in tears. “Please mommy.”

I gasp at her words, an immediate jolt rushing back to my core, still throbbing and sensitive. Paige keeps sucking on my nipples, her tongue circling them. I don’t think she realised what she said.

“Okay, okay baby.”

What I hadn’t considered was how wild just seeing the strap on Paige would have me, the silicone resting on her with her veiny hand stroking it like it was an extension of her. It might as well have been, the color matching Paige’s skin tone perfectly.

“Fuck,” she’s already panting as she climbs into the bed, eyes locked on her hand wrapped around the length.

My breathing is shaky too, a nearly painful feeling of emptiness inside me making me whiny.

“Baby,” I whisper to get the blonde’s attention.

“Yeah?”

When her blue eyes meet mine, I finally spread my legs apart, watching her gaze trail down to my core.

“Shit, okay, yeah,” Paige mumbles flustered, settling herself between my legs. She’s trembling, a bead of sweat dripping down her neck.

I gasp, feeling the silicone press gently against my slit. Paige gasps too, eyes locked onto where our bodies met as she taps the strap against my clit. I moan, brows furrowed. Fuck this. I couldn’t wait any more. The emptiness was too painful.

I reach down, taking charge and grabbing the silicone, guiding it against my folds until it’s glistening with wetness. Paige’s jaw falls slack, her eyes growing even heavier than before. Even more so when I finally guide the tip to my entrance, my leg wrapping around her waist to slip its length inside me.

“Oh sh-“ I gasp, immediately throwing my head back when I feel the intrusion. She’s big, of course she is, enough to make my legs tremble as I get overwhelmed.

“Holy fuck,” Paige hisses, watching closely as her strap - no her dick - stretches me open. “Izzie.”

“P-Paige,” I cry out.

“I’m here baby,” she whimpers, bringing her thumb to my lips and brushing it against mine as I adjust to her.

“S-So big,” I murmur, hissing as Paige slowly pushes deeper inside.

“Ah, fuck,” she cusses. “But you take it so well baby, take my dick so well.”

I moan at her words. “Baby, please.”

Nodding, mouth ajar, Paige begins to roll her hips, the strap slipping in and out of me. The stretch borders on overwhelming, a gasp spilling from my lips every time she thrusts her hips into mine.

“Fuck, look at that,” Paige hisses, eyes flickering between my chest, bouncing as she fucks me, and where her strap is digging into me, my pussy gushing and stretching around it. “Goddamn.”

She begins to go faster, my hands reaching up for her shoulders and pulling her down. We meet in a breathy kiss, both taking turns to moan into each other’s mouths. The sound of skin slapping fills the hotel room, my pussy loud as hell around her length.

“Baby, fuck,” I moan louder than before, and Paige takes it as a sign to reach down and rub sloppy circles on my clit. As she does, a gush of wetness bursts out of me, covering her thighs and dampening the sheets.

“Oh sh- Does my dick feel good? Deep inside that pussy?

I nod, my eyes rolling back. “Feel so good. I love your dick.”

“Shit,” she cusses. “W-want me to cum inside you?”

I nod again, in a complete haze, too drunk off her to think. “Please, need you to. Want you to put a baby in me.”

Paige’s head lulls back and forth, a loud moan leaving her lips. “Don’t worry, I’ma put a baby in you. Gonna get you pregnant.”

“Let me give you a baby,” I moan back. She’s pounding into me now, and as I open my eyes I find her eyes rolling back, jaw slack and brows furrowed.

“Holy- Shit, baby, I’ma put a baby in you. Take me so well. So deep in you- shit, in your guts.”

She’s rambling, the way she did whenever she got close. Wait? She’s close? Without being touched?

It only gets me wetter, my nails digging into her skin and leaving red marks all over.

“Are you close?” I ask in a shock, moaning as she thrusts into me hard. Our noses nuzzle against each other with each pump, her lips hovering over mine as we whimper into each other’s mouths.

“C-can’t help it, swear I can feel it,” she mumbles. “Swear I can feel this pussy, ma, so fucking wet and tight. Sh- she’s so perfect.”

“Paige, baby,” I cry out, looking at her scrunched up face as the knot in my abdomen tightens and tightens. “Baby, I’m close.”

“M-me too, lemme cum inside you, please, feel so good, I love you, I’ma cum,” Paige rambles, but I barely hear her, as my pussy grips around her dick, the knot finally snapping as she slams her hips into mine, cumming with me. Curses as moans fill the room as the thrusts turn sloppy and slower, both of us riding out our highs. But I only hear one thing. Paige’s voice saying I love you, ringing in my ears painfully.'

taglist: @wbbgetsmewetter @thaatdigitaldiary @pb524830 @bueckersfive @lupinqs @sierrale8ne @d3arapril @lovegalor333 @avvwritesstufff @rosemariiaa @bueckers22 @taylynbueckers44 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @rizzlerbuckets @wosolipa @bridgetloveswomen @paiges-1vur @slut4uconnwbb @xxloveralways14 @bueckersbitch @janaelalfysblunt @omg-imtumbling @angryflowerwitch @ohbueckers @ohmybueckers@potatobears-world @st4yyyy @wnbawag @maryjanewatsons @naeswrrldd @she-is-my-unrequited-love34 @paige05bby @paigebaby5

#so it goes #lilas writing yaps #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x reader #wnba x reader #wnba x oc #paige bueckers fanfic #paige bueckers fic #wlw smut

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moon-ttokki-x · 21 days ago

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not your doll - (bf!bang chan x reader)

pairing: bf!bang chan x reader

summary: chan comes home upset from the latin american leg of the dominate tour.

genre: reverse comfort, idol!au, angsty, mentions of exhaustion, lots of crying, skz deserve better. reader comforts channie, mentions of delusion, mentions of eating and drinking

a/n: yall who think what happened in brazil is funny, or think it was 'just a joke' or 'fans showing support' get tf off my blog. i don't wanna see or talk to anyone who thinks what happened was okay. leave skz alone, leave chris alone. that man is not your punching bag, he's not responsible for fixing all your fucking problems, keeping everyone happy, or in charge of anyone's but his own happiness. that shit you gotta do yourself. this is so fucking disappointing, i'm ashamed to call myself a stay at the moment. let chris live his damn life and let the kids do the same. fuck yall 'stays'. if you were a real stay you wouldn't be doing this shit.

i stand with skz.

skz masterlist | skz prompt list

"Love?" You call softly, peeking around the bedroom door frame. "Did you wanna come and eat something?"

All you get in response is a muffled 'no' and the sound of shuffling as Chan shifts slightly on the bed. The warm lamplight from the bedside tables spill across his back, highlighting the skin in a rosy, haloed glow.

You sigh and pad over to him softly, sitting on the bed. "I know you might not feel like it, but you need some good food after all that travelling."

Chan shakes his head again, further mussing his unbrushed hair. The curls are squashed and fluffy from him burrowing his head into the pillows, but he doesn't seem to care. Not once has he lifted his head to take a breath of air, and you sigh and push his head gently to the side to do it for him.

He turns his head away, facing the opposite direction; you can hear the shudder from his lungs as he gulps in the fresh coldness of the air; you'd set the thermostat colder, just as he likes it, but he hadn't seemed to take any notice.

You sigh again, running a gentle hand down the soft, albeit slightly dry skin of his back. His duffel bag and suitcase is still in the corner of the room, the zip on his bag half undone as if he'd had the intention of unpacking, but he hasn't.

You'd left him to sort himself out and shower before coming to eat, but it seemed he'd just stripped himself of his outfit and tossed himself on the bed.

Couldn't say you blamed him.

Chan speaks then, low and muffled from the pillow. "I need to go to the company."

"It hasn't even been twenty minutes since you've been home, love," you chide him gently. "Just rest., hmm? All of that can come tomorrow. It doesn't look like you can even move right now..."

Chan groans and burrows his head further into the pillows; you take a soft fistful of his hair and tug it lightly, guiding his head to the side. Your heart lurches.

Chan is crying.

His makeup is smudged; you immediately rest your hands on his shoulders. They're tense as rocks. A black streak of eyeshadow has smeared itself across the white pillowcase, as well as some of his concealer; he doesn't seem to care, and neither do you.

"Channie, my love," you say as gently as you can. You can't hide the worry on your face. "What's wrong?"

That's a useless question. You know exactly what's wrong.

He sits up suddenly, as if to get up, but he collapses on his knees, digging them into the soft sheets. He throws his hands out.

"It's not fair," he cries desperately. "I do everything I can to make things work, and then it all just gets thrown to the side... I can't even open my mouth anymore without my words being twisted..."

You sit there, eyes wide and bewildered, watching this outburst. It's so oddly unlike him to do this, but you know exactly what he's talking about.

"I- The kids, too, they have to deal with all of this, I couldn't wait for us to leave because of what happened at the hotel... They were taking videos of us, videos of one of the kids just standing outside on the balcony, minding his own business, and I couldn't sleep all night because of them chanting, I just-" He hiccups, a tear spilling from each eye like a shattered crystal.

"I just want it all to go right, but it doesn't, and no matter what I do it's not enough," he keels over then, and you pull him into your lap. He lets his lower half kneel over the bed, his face buried in your thighs.

Your vision starts to blur, and a tear drops into his hair, but neither of you take notice. "Channie..."

"I chose this life, Y/n, I chose all of this, I thought I could handle it but I'm not so sure anymore. I want to be happy, and perform without worrying about all of this, I want everyone to just leave me alone..." He's crying freely now, hands gripping your hips as his back shakes, and it's all you can do not to start crying yourself.

That sadness is quickly taken over by a wave of disapproval and anger, anger at the people who dare treat your lover like this, treat his group like performing monkeys at a circus, to be poked and prodded at.

How dare they.

It's not fair. He's right. And you know you can't fix it, make it all better, kiss it healed like you have so many times before. And it's that feeling of helplessness, that overwhelming powerlessness, that makes you lean down and whisper fiercely in Chan's ear.

"Listen to me," you whisper. "It doesn't matter who did it, it doesn't matter if they thought it was right. I can't sit here and tell you I can fix it, because I can't, and neither can you, because it's not your problem, it will never be your problem. You are not their toy. Channie, my love, all you need to do is keep going. That's it, without looking back.

"Forget about those people who pretend to be Stays, who are nothing more than obsessed delusional idiots. I know it's hard. They are so completely and utterly lost in their own worlds, and you can't tie yourself into knots to fix them, because it's impossible.

"I know it hurts, love, and I know it's frustrating, especially for the kids too. None of you deserve to be treated like that, like you have to be filmed and screamed at and all of those other things-"

"But if I don't let them, then they all start hating me," his eyes are teary, utterly exhausted with emotion.

"Chris, you are not a doll," you say firmly, cupping his face. "You are not responsible for everyone's happiness. You are responsible for your own joy. So are the kids. I know you feel like you have to take the weight of the world on your shoulders, but it doesn't mean that you have to take everyone's bullshit alongside it too...

"You are a musician, an artist, not a miracle worker or some sort of magician that can take everyone's troubles away or perform to everyone's unrealistic standards. And as for those idiots who stalked you outside your hotel, JYP is taking measures to deal with it. And he says it's fine if you want to take a break for a while."

"I don't want to," he says quietly, inhaling your scent as you lean down to kiss the crown of his head. "I just wanted to be home with you, and I am."

"Love..."

"Please," he says, quieter. His tears have slowed. "I don't wanna talk about this anymore. It makes me angry, and being angry is exhausting. I'm already exhausted."

You sigh and crack a tiny smile, tapping his cheek lightly. Already you can see his resilience taking effect. Nothing keeps him down for long, your Chan.

"I'll let it go if you promise to come and eat something," you say. "Otherwise, I'm gonna call the kids to spend the night here and they'll eat all of the food I made for you-"

"Okay, okay," he groans, heaving himself upright. "I'm coming. Please don't call them, I've lost enough sleep trying to keep them all in line."

You laugh and kiss him. His lips are slightly chapped, and you tsk softly into the kiss as he stands up, taking you with him.

"Y/n," he murmurs, burning hands slipping to your waist.

"Thought you were too tired," you giggle.

He doesn't respond, instead tugging you closer. You reluctantly pull back and poke his side, making him gasp.

He pulls back too, fighting a sheepish look as you stare pointedly at the bathroom door. "Go shower, then come eat. Now."

He rolls his eyes and steals another kiss to your cheek as he heads towards the bathroom. "Fine."

Chuckling, you make your way to the door, heading to the kitchen. Your feet slow at the door threshold, and you turn to look back at Chan as he busies himself with pulling out a fresh set of clothes from his drawers. Even exhausted and upset, he's still beautiful. Your heart sinks a little as you watch the tear tracks on his face glisten under the lamplight, but you don't bring it up. Instead-

"Channie," you say softly.

He looks up, a black hoodie in one hand.

Your voice is gentle, almost hesitant. "It'll be okay, you know that, right?"

He nods quietly, solemn as you've ever seen him. "I know."

You feel your lips curving into a soft but sad smile. "I love you."

He blinks. "I love you more."

"That's not possible," you say teasingly as you turn and head towards the kitchen.

His laugh echoes through the house.

a/n: none bc i'm fucking pissed.

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suncoved · 10 months ago

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SALTWATER BLUES ! 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂ𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ

CHAPTER ONE — ENDLESS INTERACTIONS!

pairing; childhoodbestfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: You return to the outer banks after moving away with your mother at 13, leaving your best friend Rafe, alone and confused with no way out. Now you're back, 6 years later.. and it's an absolute shit show.

series masterlist !

Rafe threw his head back as he snorted his first line of the night, the rush quickly making its way to his brain as his body relaxed. He sniffed more from the intrusion, scanning his eyes over the crowd of people at the party on a normal night in the outer banks.

"My boy knows how to party!" Topper enthusiastically claimed, walking up to Rafe who was sat around the glass table on the balcony.

"Shut up topper" He grumbled in reply, glancing over at the girl following behind his blonde friend. "Rafe, this is Marley. Said she wanted to get to know you"

The girl batted her eyelashes at Rafe, her legs glistening in her very short skirt. "not happening" Rafe replied, preparing the next round of his supply as he waved his hand at the pair in front of him to go away.

"Well, the king has spoken. Sorry Marls, he's been a bit grumpy for well.. always."

Rafe rolled his eyes at Topper's words, not even bothering to watch as the girl walked away begrudgingly.

"When are you gonna move on man, I mean we all loved her but.. she's not coming back." Topper sighed, sitting on the chair next to Rafe. "Shut the fuck up, you don't know the first thing about me and her. " He snapped back, his blood boiling at the mention of you, as it always did.

He was so angry.

So angry that you had left him without a goodbye. So angry that he couldn't hold your hand or cuddle you. So angry he couldn't just have you back.

But what made him the most angry, was that it wasn't angry at all.

He could never be angry at you. All he wanted was you back in his arms, but he knew that was never happening.

And he was yet to make peace with that fact.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

"I've missed you so much!" Kie squealed as she ran into your arms, pushing you back as you giggled and hugged her. "I've missed you too Kie. It's been too long," you replied solemnly, pulling back to look at her face for the first time in years.

"Outerbanks hasn't been the same without you" Kiara replied, squeezing you extra tight as she pulled back. You just smiled in response, taking a deep breath of the fresh Obx air you didn't know you missed so much.

"Well c'mon, we have swimming to do." You giggled, pulling off your shirt and shorts to reveal your bikini underneath, feeling the soft sand between your toes.

You couldn't wait for her as she shimmed out of her clothes, looking at her and smiling before running to the water.

You had only been back in the Obx for a matter of hours, digging through your suitcase to find the first bathing suit you could see before running out of your house.

The feeling of the fresh, clear, water on your skin as you dived under waves was unmatched to anything you had felt before. Like before this, you had never even lived before.

All the worries and panic about coming back home dissipating the second you touched the sea.

You don't know how long you were swimming, but the second you came back to consciousness the sun was setting over the horizon.

As you swam back to the shore, you heard a bustle on the sand in front of you. You narrowed your eyes at the commotion, your feet finding their way to the sand below you as you walked out of the water.

Having only spent about 6 hours back in the Outerbanks, you hadn't yet become acquainted with the nightlife of the teenagers of Kildare.

You heard your name being yelled behind you as you walked up the beach to your towel and clothes, turning around to see Kiara now fully dry and fully dressed.

"Oh my god, you were swimming that whole time? I thought you went home!" Kie gasped as you noticed a red solo cup in her hand.

"I always lose track of time out there. What's all this?" you questioned, looking around at the crowds of teenagers and music pumping in your ears at the once peaceful boneyard.

"Kegger, Wait! C'mon, The boys will be so happy your back!" She enthusiastically replied, pulling you towards the crowds while you were still drying off with your towel.

"Wait Kie!" you gasped, much preferring that she gave you the chance to put on some clothes first.

"Guys! Look whose back" Kiara exclaimed, pulling you out from behind her to see the trio of troublemaking pouges from your childhood.

"Hey, no way! The kook princess is back in town" JJ gasped, pulling you in for a hug as you smiled. "Hey J"

You were never that close with the Pouges, because well you were never in the same circle as them. Though, Pope's dad Heyward knew your father from childhood and was at your house from time to time.

After exchanging hugs with the rest of the boys, they soon went into a conversation about god knows what, letting you have the opportunity to slip away unnoticed.

You sighed to yourself as you walked down the beach, attempting to escape the commotion of the Kegger. It wasn't dark yet, so you found yourself sitting in the soft sand, staring at the waves in peace.

You were yet to see or hear of the Cameron boy you had been thinking about your whole life.

Wondering what he had been up to for the last 6 years of your life. Was he in college? What did he look like now? Was he tall, handsome?

You had endless amounts of questions, but you were still undecided if you actually wanted them to be answered.

You brought your legs into your chest as you wrapped your arms around yourself, letting your head rest on your arms as you stared into the horizon.

You looked behind you as you heard voices, watching a girl climb onto a red buoy that had washed up on the shore. You squinted your eyes as you saw a familiar boy lend her a hand to get down.

Topper.

As Sarah looked over the shore from her view, she noticed you sat alone. And i mean, you're someone people never forget, and along with the fact she hadn't stopped hearing about you from her older brother since she could remember.

You hear your name from behind you as you turn, seeing Sarah run up to you with Topper following cluelessly behind.

"Hey Sarah" You sigh, trying to be as enthusiastic as possible but you can't help but crave silence right now.

"What're doing back here, I thought I'd never see you again" She exclaims, leaning down to hug you. "Can't get rid of me that quick"

"Hey Topper" You spoke, watching as he nervously peered at you behind Sarah.

As much as you loved Sarah, you guys were never close. Sure you could have a good conversation with her occasionally, but you were always closer to Topper, because well, where you went, Rafe went.

You watched as someone called Sarah's name, making her turn around and walk towards the voice. Leaving you and Topper alone on the shore.

Instead of following her, he took a seat next to you on the sand.

"We've missed you a lot y'know" He sighed, shuffling closer to you as you turned to him "He's not doing good, at all. He needs you"

You felt a tear making its way down your cheek at the mention of Rafe, turning away quickly to wipe it off your face. "See him soon alright, please"

With his last statement, he got up and left you to your thoughts.

When your mom decided to whisk you away back to the mainland, you didn't only lose your father and all you knew, but the love of your life as well.

You and Rafe were inseparable, and you had always wondered what your life would be like if you never had left.

You looked over the crowd at Kie, who was having fun and laughing with her friends. Deciding against having the whole 'I'm going home now' conversation where you knew she was going to try to get you to stay, you walked the length of the beach back to your house.

You didn't even know how you would go about seeing Rafe again. Were you gonna show up to his house and offer milk and cookies, or hide from him for the rest of your life until you could have plastic surgery to change your face so he couldn't recognise you?

Probably the latter.

You held your shoes in your hands as you walked up the staircase to your room, your dad nowhere in sight, and the house as quiet as it was in your childhood.

You sighed as you flicked the light on in your room, the sky outside now pitch black.

You immediately start pulling off your shirt and shorts which were over your bikini. The mixture of the sand and the still-damp swimsuit making you squirm.

You look over to your balcony and realise your curtains are still open, making the wise decision that you should probably shut them before completely stripping, you walk over to the window.

You reach to each side of the fabric, beginning to pull them into each other before your eyes are cast to the light in front of you from outside.

You look over to the bedroom opposite yours out the window, clothes strewn across the floor, the bed unmade... Oh! and your childhood best friend staring right at you in utter shock.

Shoot, there goes your master plan.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe outer banks #outerbanks imagine #outerbanks

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cheralith · 10 months ago

Text

wish you well — 「 celebrity!gojo x manager!reader (drabble & headcanons 」

synopsis ; after being one of the nation's most well-loved celebrity's manager for nine years, it's time to call it quits. said celebrity, however, doesn't take it too well.

content tags/warnings ; gn!reader, no pronouns for reader used, mild angst, some parts not edited/not beta read

contains ; celebrity!au, a-list actor!gojo satoru, manager!reader, no powers au

notes ; plot inspired by "what's wrong with secretary kim" after my nth rewatch haha

now playing ; i wish you love - nancy wilson

Everyone goes to lean forward in their seats, gripping the edge of it as the music that’s singing from the movie theatre’s speakers suddenly stops, letting the sound effects of rain pebble through instead. The screen displays a running, drenched man in the rain of a lonesome road in the middle of the countryside, his crystal blue eyes hazy with a brim of tears balancing in them as he huffs and puffs, the exhaustion within him visible. The camera cuts to a woman seated safely under a bus stop as the rain pours down with the same view of a descending countryside town still blurred in the distance. She grips the handle of her suitcase as her head goes to gaze solemnly at her shoes.

A bus goes to a screeching halt, only the tender wheel of it visible as the woman’s gaze is still stuck on the floor before she looks up to see the bus doors opening before her. The running man appears before the screen, desperation clear on his face before the camera slowly turns towards the bus stop the formerly-sitting woman is now standing under.

“Loretta! Don’t you dare get on that bus!” the man yells out, earning the woman’s attention.

The woman widens her pale green eyes at the sight of him breaking out into a sprint. She swallows a nervous gulp, too frozen to move from her spot until the man enters under the shelter of the bus stop. His chest engraved with the lining of visible muscles are evident through his pale blue button-down that’s slicked with water and the sight earns a couple of lip bites from women in the theatre.

The woman stammers, “Y-you know I need to do this…”

“No you don’t,” the man mutters, the camera panning to show his eyes holding desperation and a slight flicker of anger. “Your father wants you to do this, but I know you. I know you don’t want to.”

“But it’s my duty, Vincent—”

“Don’t give me that ‘duty’ shit!” The man shakes his head, letting droplets of water fling all over. “Loretta, please… just stay here with me,” he pleads, holding her face in his hands and forcing the woman to look up at him as his thumbs wipe away her tears that grab onto mascara. “We can stay here… get a house together… build a family… die old together like you said we would. You’re not gonna break your promise, are you?”

“Vincent, that was when we were six!” the woman exclaims sadly, “Don’t tell me you’re still hanging onto that.”

“I’m not hanging onto that promise,” he whispers, pulling her face closer to his.

The instrumental of a music track begins to play softly in the background, obvious tension rising to the surface in the theatre as the scene continues. A couple of hands shovel into large popcorn buckets and without thinking, shove the popcorn into their salivating mouths. Nails dig into the palms of hands as some chew on them out of anticipation. Eyes wide and unblinking, they give their full attention to the screen.

“Say the line…” whispers one person.

The man tenderly kisses her in a short, but passionate kiss, letting her release from him with a dreamy sigh.

“I’m holding on to you,” he murmurs ever so softly.

Compared to the quietness of the man on the screen, the theatre goes absolutely crazy. Shouts and cheers ring through the air as numerous rounds of applause go to harmonize with them.

The scene in the movie finalizes with Loretta finally swallowing her pride and nodding to Vincent’s agreement, sealing the movie with a kiss that lasts until the screen slowly fades to black.

“Annnd… that’s a wrap,” the director of the movie jokes as he stands up from his seat. He earns a few laughs from the cast and the crew of the movie. The theatre begins to light up once more and gives a clear view of everyone, including the section that holds the main cast up near the back. “I’d like to give one last thank you to Satoru Gojo and Yuki Tsukumo one last time for giving an amazing performance and dedicating their time for the past year and a half. Thank you both ever so dearly.”

Satoru Gojo, also known as Vincent, goes to stand up with his co-star, also known as Loretta, and they give a synchronized bow to the people in the theatre as the premier for his latest movie finally draws the curtains from behind the audience. “Thank you for directing another outstanding movie. I truly do look forward to working with you again in the future,” he gives another dazzling smile as he and Yuki elegantly walk down the stairs together. They say their final goodbyes as co-stars and depart to opposite sides of the theatre where they’re greeted with their teams.

You go to hand him his coat you’ve been hanging on to for the past ninety minutes, the scent of cologne finally fading after a suffocating hour and a half. Glancing at the director who heartily laughs with some of the editors of the movie, you let out a light chuckle.

“Hm? What’s so funny?” Satoru inquires as he shoves on his coat.

“You’re such a liar,” you say, shrugging as you and him exit the movie’s premiere together, some of the actor’s team following shortly after, conversing with another about how spectacular the movie was. “You’d rather throw yourself off a cliff than work with that guy again.”

Without looking at you, Satoru grins ahead. “You know me so well.”

Ijichi, the chauffeur, is waiting patiently outside the venue despite the winter cold. When he sights the many delighted smiles and laughter, he asks, “I take it the premiere went well?”

“Very,” you nod, getting into the car to enjoy its warmth.

The car ride is nothing out of the usual, just quiet jazz playing in the background and the city lights glimmer from above.

“Oh, what’s the agenda for tomorrow by the way?” Satoru asks, his gaze turning from the window to you, who still is focused on the tablet that checks off today’s draining tasks for the celebrity.

Photoshoot for Ray Ban… done. Look over next month’s plans for Season Two of Jujutsu Kaisen… done. Suit fitting for movie premiere… done. Movie premiere… done!

“(Y/N)~” Satoru calls again but dragging the last syllable of your name and snapping his fingers in front of you to capture your attention. He chuckles when you jolt in your seat.

“Sorry,” you mutter before swiping to tomorrow’s agenda. “Alright, nothing too big. You just gotta sign that contract that you’ll be the spokesperson for Chaumet, then right after, you have an Elle interview regarding the movie. Then, you’ll have a final dinner with the entire cast and that’s it for the week.”

Satoru nods in approval and obviously ready to take on tomorrow’s attacks. Only three things? He can handle that with ease. If anything, it’s been less of a load to bring on from the recent events that had been happening as of lately. His feet could really use a break from walking over so many red carpets.

The road begins to lead down a familiar path as you realize you pass the local family diner, your apartment’s entrance shortly coming to view. Ijichi slows to a stop and unlocks the door, letting you out. Before Satoru can say goodbye to his beloved manager, however, you stop the window from rolling up and lean down into the car again.

“Oh, I forgot to say this earlier, but,” you pause, making sure his attention is all on you for this short, but possibly life-alternating moment. “You’re also meeting your new manager tomorrow, too. She’s really sweet and—”

Time freezes for a moment.

“Wait a minute,” Satoru furrows his brows and faces his body completely towards you, his countenance pulling the curtains to reveal a confused, serious expression that rarely appears on his face. “New manager…? What do you mean?”

The question comes out more as a demand. Breath hitching for a short moment, you release it and smile gently with the corners not letting your eyes curve. You had been anticipating this moment for the longest time now—around half a year of decision making and weighing the pros and cons, then three months deciding when the right time to break the news would be. But at this time, you’ve ran out of time and you’ve ultimately decided to push it towards the day before the deadline, something you almost never do. A little solemnly, you sigh out softly and finally declare the groundbreaking news to the A-list celebrity, your head still high.

“I’ll be quitting as your manager, soon.”

Actor!Gojo, who doesn't get a good night sleep after that abrupt statement, in which you barely gave him time to try and ask why on earth you're giving up the job that many people would kill for, only leaving him with a small wave and a subtle "goodnight." Your voice replayed in his head the entire night, the sentence resembling nails on a chalkboard the more he repeated it to himself—"I'll be quitting as your manager, soon."

Actor!Gojo, who thinks you have the nerve to put on a smile and greet him good morning the following sunrise as if nothing happened, as if you weren't breaking a bond of nearly nine years with him. Your words for today’s plans go in and out of his ears as Satoru wearily examines your appearance and movements in the kitchen that he almost never uses as he rounds up his thoughts that poisoned his head ever since you said that all-too-bold statement last night that shifted his entire world in the matter of seconds.

Actor!Gojo, who cuts you off mid-sentence, asking you sharply why you're quitting as his manager out of the blue, his usually-playful baby blue hues piercing right into you. He notices your smile faltering a bit, but never completely dissipating, though it comes severely close to doing so when you tell him why.

Actor!Gojo, who listens much too intently for his liking when he hears you out, a feat he rarely does. "The past nine years have been wonderful, don't get me wrong," you murmur as you slather on a sugary marmalade on his toast. "But I don't think I'm really getting much out of life just being someone's manager."

Actor!Gojo, who pretends as if those last two words don't sting his chest. Someone's manager... as if he's not one of the most worshipped and celebrated A-list actors in the industry right now. But he supposes that's why he stuck by you, since you understood that he, too, was just a regular human being at the end of the day like the rest of humanity, even with his godlike good looks.

Actor!Gojo, whose mouth runs dry when you continue. "I don't want to be the side character to someone's story. I deserve to live fully too." you finish, pushing Gojo's plate of breakfast towards him before snacking on the leftovers. You stare at him, awaiting his response. You understand that despite you thinking over such a big decision for a few months, that it was better to rip off the bandaid and avoid any further complications by quitting unexpectedly, even though you knew Gojo better than anyone.

Actor!Gojo, who attempts to understand where you're coming from. Yes, he can get that maybe this life wasn't the most exciting, but then again, what other jobs out there are? At least with this one, you're guaranteed good—dare he say, great—pay and stability, along with experiencing second-hand what it's like to see all the glitz and glamour most of the population fiend for. It's thanks to him that you've been draped in designer clothes for premiers, that you've tried Michelin delicacies, that you've travelled the world. So... why ditch all of that for a more simple life? Aren't you content?

Actor!Gojo, whose mind flashes back to the moment where you stared a little too longingly at a lovesick couple in the window of a coffee shop, or when your eyes lingered on the engagement rings in a shop window that one day he had to get a suit tailored. He suddenly remembers the one dress rehearsal where he witnessed an extra asking for your number before you declined politely. He had asked you jokingly that you were blind to reject such a handsome guy (second to him, of course), only for you to reply you smiled gently at him and said you had no time to date.

Actor!Gojo, who suddenly blurts out without any restraint, and with a little more edge than expected, "What? D'you want to get married or something?"

Actor!Gojo, who regrets the sentence as soon as it escapes his lips. He swallows thickly and attempts to organize the right words for a proper apology. You stare blankly at him for a moment, and before Gojo can say anything, you nod. "Yeah. It's been a dream of mine to, actually..."

Actor!Gojo, who thinks his coffee tastes much bitter than usual, silently nods after a moment of awkward silence. You open your mouth first to try and cut it through, but he beats you to it. "I'm sure I could re-arrange some stuff in the schedule so you can get out there and meet someone. There's no need to quit." He ignores the weird pang in his chest the moment he says "someone."

Actor!Gojo, who frowns when you shake your head. You explain it would still be hard, as he'd remain your first priority despite it all. You mention that you've already submitted your resignation letter to his agency three weeks ago and that it's been processed, that it'll be your last two weeks as you being his manager and that you'll be saying goodbye to what had been nearly a decade of companionship with the celebrity.

Actor!Gojo, who flinches as the doorbell rings and watches miserably as you fetch the person at the door. She's a young girl, around the age when you first started as his manager, with choppy bangs and long blue hair, along with a bright and ready smile. You introduce her as his to-be manager, but Gojo can't shake off the thought of being greeted by her face in the morning and seeing her face as the last thing he sees before he goes to sleep instead of yours.

Actor!Gojo, who thinks this week is going much too fast for his liking. Despite essentially begging for the director of his latest TV show to give him some extra scenes to shoot, he was excused early with the rest of the crew after all the required scenes were shot nicely. Somehow, the brand deal commercial and meeting flew by much faster than usual, too. But despite it all, Gojo couldn't help his eyes constantly flickering to your figure whenever you were in his field of vision, even receiving multiple warnings from the director from the commercial to stop getting distracted.

Actor!Gojo, who finds his gaze lingering on a rather old picture of you and him, along with some blurry figures in the background. Nine years younger, both of you, with outdated fashion and makeup. He remembers you were just shy of being his manager for four months, when he was still trying to break out of the shell of being a nepotism baby and attempting to create a name for himself. Gojo prided himself on his independence, but he'd be fooling himself if he didn't give a hefty amount of credit of his success to you. After all, you were the one that was in charge of his many brand deals and were the one that landed him roles that granted him film awards.

Actor!Gojo, who can't find the right words to say during the drives home, hating how the air is always thick whenever you were alone with him. He doesn't think he can get used to not pulling up to your apartment when the night comes to an end before going to his, despite your affirmations that him and Miwa would get along great. He murmurs a good night to you, not facing you despite watching your reflection intently in the window, but before you wish him a good evening, you say something that forces him to face you.

"I have... a dinner reservation with someone at 6:30 p.m., so I'll be leaving early tomorrow."

Gojo blinks. "Is that implying you have a date?"

"I..." you swallow anticipatingly. "I suppose you could say that."

Actor!Gojo, who feels the familiar pang of his chest as the thought of someone else sharing a dinner with you, something you've been doing with him since the very beginning of his career. He can't even imagine a person, only some sort of foggy figure sitting across from you, sharing a shabby meal. He can tell you're waiting a response from him before you head into your apartment, and he wryly says, "That's great... Hope you have a good time or whatever..." before commanding the driver to drive off, not even waiting for another word from you.

Actor!Gojo, who drums his fingers with great boredom against the door's handle, fighting off the nuisance that was the city's insane traffic this evening. When he gazes out the window to find some other distraction other than his phone, however, he instantly finds himself drawn to a familiar figure being seated at the window a few stories up in the restaurant his car was stuck in front of. You're up there, dressed regally for another, giggling with them at something they said (something stupid, Gojo thinks to himself). Teeth grit against themselves when they feed you a small portion of their food with their fork, the indirect kiss making his eyes narrow.

Actor!Gojo, whose spontaneous anger suddenly dispels when he repeats your words from earlier that week.

"What? D'you want to get married or something?"

"Yeah. It's been a dream of mine to, actually..."

Gojo suddenly pauses and goes still for a while, thinking over something incredulous. He blinks repeatedly, before a grin etches on his face as his plan settles into his consciousness. Gojo may not give you anything you desire if you're just his mere manager...

... but if he were your husband, then that meant your dream would be fulfilled and you could stay at his side for what was essentially the rest of his life and give you anything you wanted. He'd never have to fret about you leaving his life ever again.

Satoru Gojo, you absolute Einstein... he compliments himself proudly in his mind. Letting out a confident huff as the car begins to drive on, he tells the driver to head on over to the nearest jewelry store before heading home.

a/n: hi sorry it's been a while! i was finishing up a semester at uni, so forgive my absence with this little weird hybrid ficlet of mine featuring the one and only

i hope you enjoyed and thank you for taking time out of your day to enjoy my writing! likes/comments/reblogs are always noticed and are always appreciated (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ !!!

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojou satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo smut #jjk fluff #jjk angst #geto suguru x reader #nanami x reader #drabbles #headcanons #jjk fanfic

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lovelytsunoda · 4 months ago

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domesticated | oscar piastri

summary: yn comes back from a business trip to find her boyfriend doing the laundry. naturally, it’s this smidge of domesticity that makes her want to jump his bones

pairing: oscar piastri x girlfriend!reader

warnings: 18+, sex in a laundry room (and up against a laundry machine), men that pull their weight around the household are sexy as fuck!

the house was quiet when she came home. almost too quiet.

she left her tumi suitcase by the door, taking off her shoes and blazer before making her way through the foyer.

"oscar?" she called. "babe, i'm back. my flight landed early!"

she and oscar hadn't been living together for long, maybe six months at the absolute maximum. her five-day business trip to the other side of the country had been the longest that the young lovers had spent apart since they had moved in together.

the living room was empty, despite the flat screen tv playing a cricket match to the empty space. there was a mug of tea on the end table, half full and still warm.

"osc?" she called again, drumming her fingers against the wall. where could her boyfriend possibly be?

she could hear vibrations coming from deeper inside the house, a loud rattling, more like. she followed the noise to the laundry room, where she found oscar sitting on the tiled floor, surrounded by piles of laundry, the washing machine rattling away behind him. he had his headphones in, head bopping to whatever it was that he found helped him focus.

she knocked loudly on the door, heart jumping when he looked up at her with nothing but pure love in his eyes.

"hey, baby!" he said excitedly, stumbling over a pile of t-shirts on the ground. "you're back!"

he kissed her softly, hands coming to rest at her waist. "how was the conference?"

"a waste of time." she hummed, pulling him in closer. "what i really want to talk about is your laundry skills."

"oh yeah?" oscar grinned, nodding towards the piles on the floor. "i live here too, i should pull my weight. my race suits are dry clean only, but everything else can go in the machine. i've developed a system."

she raised an eyebrow, but couldn't deny how sexy it was that oscar wasn't afraid of a little bit of housework. "you have, have you?"

"yeah, do you want me to explain it?"

"actually, i would much rather you fuck me against the washing machine."

and who was oscar to disagree?

that's how she found herself pushed up against a running laundry machine, naked from the waist down. her legs were wrapped tightly around oscar's lower half, his sweatpants lying forgotten ono the floor and he kissed up her neck, teasing her entrance with the tip of his throbbing cock.

"christ, babe. you're this wet already?"

"missed you." she hummed, kissing him gently. "that's all."

"well, we can't have that, can we?"

he slid inside with one swift movement, filling her to the brim. he muttered a curse, face buried in her neck as he got settled. all he could feel was her: her warmth, the smoothness of her thighs as she drew him closer, the softness of the skin on her neck, the beating of her heart.

she was everything he could have ever wanted and more.

"fuck me, oscar. please."

keeping in time with the rhythmic churning of the washing machine behind her, oscar's thrusts started out slow but firm, testing the waters. her gentle moans and whimpers were music to his ears, and he bit back a few grunts of his own as he slipped in and out of her warm and welcoming pussy.

"oh, yes. right there, baby. fuck, you fill me so well." she moaned, head thrown back as she rolled her hips in time with oscar's movements.

"that's right, darling. keep taking my cock like a fucking champ."

"faster, oscar." she whimpered, nails digging into his shoulders. "faster."

he kissed her hurriedly, delivering a few more teasing and languid thrusts of his cock before pulling out and slamming back inside. the scream of pleasure she let out was positively delightful, followed by desperate pleas of 'more' and 'kiss me'.

which, of course, oscar was all too happy to oblige.

her body was curled around his, her aching nipples pressing against her lacy bra and showing through the flimsy white dress shirt she was wearing. oscar was transfixed by the sight as her breasts bounced with the effort of his thrusts, pushing her against the machine with each feral pound.

"yes, baby." he grunted. "just let me take care of you." one hand gently tugged at her hair, the other braced on the countertop. the sounds of his balls hitting her skin was almost as loud as the noise the washing machine was making,

"fuck, oscar, i'm so close! wanna come on your thick cock." she pleaded, marking the skin underneath the collar of his white shirt. a shirt that was now completely soaked through with sweat.

"yeah? are you that pent up, baby? you were only gone for five days. you know i'm coming with you next time, right? i mean, my hand can only do so much. it doesn't cuddle with me, or kiss me softly, or smell like fresh vanilla-"

"oscar!" she squealed as he thrusted hard enough to send her body shotting upwards towards the bottom of the hanging cabinet. her fingers scrabbled for purchase, limply clinging to the door handle.

"right, okay." oscar grunted. "i've got you, sweet girl. come on, give it to me. give it to me, angel."

she came with a cry, her body curling around his. this was always the part where she felt the most emotional, and the most vulnerable. oscar pulled her close, running his hands up and down his arms while he tried to gently thrust through it.

“atta girl. you’re so good, baby. I love you so much.”

“you didn’t finish.” she whispered softly, licking her lips.

oscar grinned. “baby, I’ve got gas left in the tank like you wouldn’t believe. what do you say we go to the bedroom and you let me show you just how much I missed you?”

#smutmas (tasia's version)#oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #formula one smut #f1 imagine #f1 smut #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 smut #Spotify

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zegrasdrysdale · 6 months ago

Text

[ honeymoon avenue ] n. hischier

day 6 of kinktober (breeding kink w/ nico hischier)

paring : Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary : Nico and his new wife celebrate the first night of their honeymoon

warning(s) : smut ! breeding kink, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk

author’s note : better late than never ig

kinktober schedule

༺──────────────༻

It takes everything in her to not jump her new husband the moment they open the door to their suite at the hotel they're staying at for their week-long stay in Cancun while on their honeymoon. Nico tosses their suitcases and carry-ons into the room before he turns toward her.

Without warning, Nico leans down and picks her up bridal style. She gasps and wraps her arms around his neck. "Nico!" she giggles as he crosses the threshold into their suite. "That was not necessary."

"I just want to make sure my new wife gets the whole experience," he tells her as he sets her back down on her feet while a huge grin forms on her lips. She doesn't drop her arms though. She plays with the hair she can reach on the back of his neck.

Nico kicks the door shut behind him without his eyes leaving her. He studies her face like it'll be the last time he'll ever look at her. "You can take a picture," she teases. "It'll last longer."

"Just trying to get used to seeing you as my wife," Nico replies with a small smile. "Because you're my wife now. You wore white and I put a second ring on that finger. Said 'I do' in front of our family and friends then kissed you. We did the whole thing, and now you're my wife."

She giggles at Nico's words. "You're such a sap," she tells him.

"Mhm," he hums. His hands slide around her waist and he dips his head down so his forehead rests on hers. "All for you so you better not go telling my teammates because I'll never hear the end of it."

"I think they figured it out by the way you looked at me and danced with me when 'Little Things' was playing for our first dance," she tells him. Nico rolls his eyes with a smile. "Just preparing you for when we get back to Jersey and your teammates start messing with you."

He shifts his head to try and kiss her, but she holds him back for a second. "What?" he asks.

"I just want to shower off the travel," she explains. "I smell like plane and I don't exactly want to start our night wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. I have something I packed especially for tonight that I wanna show you."

Nico smiles and nods. "I'll let you take your shower then," he tells her. "But after, I am not responsible for what happens when you come out of that shower. If you come out of the shower in some sort of clothing then I'll be buying you new whatever because I will get my hands on you as soon as you walk out of that bathroom. Full disclosure."

She laughs and grabs her carry-on that contains Nico's surprise. He sheds his jacket as she heads into the bathroom to wash and shave her body. She ties her hair up into a bun so she doesn’t have to wash then blow dry it and postpone their night even more. She quickly makes sure the water is at a comfortable temperature before getting in.

If she's going to do anything, it's make sure she looks good and feels soft for the first night of her honeymoon. She shaves every necessary part of her body and washes every crevice as quick as she can.

She made sure to get a lot of sleep on the plane from Switzerland to prepare for the night because she will not be getting any sleep tonight. Nico can, and will, go all night if she let him. He really does have the stamina of a hockey player, and she thinks she’ll let him go as long as he can.

Once the water gets cold, she gets out. She towel dries her entire body and lets her hair loose. She digs through the bag to pull out Nico's surprise.

It's a white, silky nightgown that falls just below her ass with thin straps on her shoulder. There's a lace trim on the plunging v-neck that matches the lacy white panties she pulls on underneath the nightgown. She puts on some mascara before she leaves the small room and goes back out into the main room.

Nico sits on the bed scrolling on his phone when she makes her way back into the room. She clears her throat to get his attention. He looks up and his eyes widen immediately. She gnaws on her bottom lip and takes short steps toward her new husband.

"You like it?" she asks as she does a little twirl to give Nico a full view of the set.

"It'll look better on the floor," he tells her. His comment earns a little smile from her.

She reaches the bed and crawls up to meet Nico. She climbs onto his lap and straddles his thighs. Her lips ghost the swell of his ear when she says, "Then take it off."

His hands slowly slide up the back of the nightgown. She feels goosebumps rise behind his fingers while she cups Nico's jaw. They share a quick eskimo kiss when she leans back a bit and meets his eyes. Then Nico surges forward to capture her lips in a deep kiss. She hums before she returns the kiss with the same passion.

Before she realizes she does it, she ruts her hips against his. Nico lets out a soft groan and grasps her waist. She keeps a slow pace at first before she gets needy and quickens her pace a bit.

Nico pushes the silky fabric over her head. She puts her arms above her head and breaks the kiss so he can pull it off. The nightgown hits the floor with a soft thud and Nico's lips are on her chest. She runs her fingers through his hair and hums. He's always been a tit kind of guy, and he loves hers. He pays some extra attention to them and she can’t help but smile as his tongue swirls around one nipple while he uses his fingers to play with the other. She can’t help but hum at the sensation.

She reaches down and slides her hands up the t-shirt he has on. Her fingers trace his toned stomach for a second before she starts to push the cotton fabric over his head. Nico pulls away from her breasts for a second to get the shirt over his head.

Her hips rut against his again and Nico grins at her. “So needy for me, liebling,” he mumbles.

“Always,” she tells him. “I always need you, Neeks. Now more than ever because it’s hot that I get to call you my husband and I have your last name.”

Nico tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and she leans onto his touch. “It’s hot that you have my last name,” he replies. “So hot. Makes me wanna fuck you full of my babies so they can also have my last name.”

They’ve talked about having kids, but they both wanted to wait until after they were married. Well, now they’re married and the idea of Nico giving her babies sounds like the best idea in the world.

“Fuck me full of your babies, Nico,” she tells him. “Fill me up and fuck me.” She drags a finger over his cheekbones and jaw.

“That what you want, liebling?” Nico asks as his fingers slip into her already ruined panties. “Want me to fill you up with my babies and stay inside you so my come keeps you filled?“

She hums at his words, which shoot straight to her core. “Please,” she sighs. “Please, Nico.”

He starts to pull off the lace she’s wearing and she gets on her knees so he can get it off of her. She kneels between his knees so she can pull off his jeans and boxers. His hard dick springs free and stands against his stomach.

This would be the time that one of them would reach for a condom, but instead Nico flips them over so he’s hovering over her and lines himself up with her entrance. She lets her knees fall to the side so Nico has full access to her.

He slowly pushes into her and she welcomes the familiar stretch. She gnaws on her bottom lip and stares up at her husband. Nico’s hair is on the longer side so it falls into his face. She pushes it back with her fingers and holds it in place. He kisses her wrist as he bottoms out inside her.

Nico lets her adjust for a second before he slowly starts to roll his hips. She lets out soft sighs and hums as he moves. He keeps a steady pace, and it drives her crazy with how slow he moves.

“Nico,” she whines. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

“We have all night, baby,” he reminds her. “Gonna take my time with you right now.”

Yeah, she’s not getting a wink of sleep tonight.

She tries to match Nico’s pace but he grasps her waist so she stops. He leans down and kisses the sweet spot right under her ear. “You’ll get what you want, liebling,” he mumbles. “Gonna fill that pretty pussy and fuck you til you’re full of my babies. You’d look so good with a swollen belly, baby.”

Her entire body shudders at his words. “Nico,” she sighs. “Please. Please, please.”

He grins and captures her begging lips in a deep kiss. He quickens his pace again but continues to move deeply into her. The bed creaks gently as his pace gets a little bit faster.

Her fingers curl in his hair and doesn’t let him get too far. She pulls him down so their chests are pressed together. Nico deepens the kiss and hooks one of her legs around his elbow so he can move even deeper into her.

“Oh, fuck!” she cries out against his lips. “Nico. Neeks.”

Nico smiles into the kiss that follows. “You can’t wait to be filled with my babies,” he mumbles between kisses. “You want to carry my kids, don’t you?”

“I do,” she says for the second time in 24 hours. “Fuck, Nico.”

He lifts himself up so he can move quickly.

Signs of a pending orgasm show themselves soon after. Her legs begin to shake and a knot forms in the pit of her stomach. Both of their breathing becomes labored as they both chase after their respective climaxes.

She ruts her hips against his, slowly working her way up to match his pace.

The room is filled with the sounds that pass their lips and the sound of the bed hitting the wall behind their heads.

Nico slows his pace but continues to move deep inside her. He hits her sweet spot and cries out, "Fuck! Nico. Oh my God. Don't stop."

"Wouldn't dream of it, liebling," Nico pants. "Come for me. I wanna feel you make a mess on my cock."

He keeps his pace and it's not long after when she clenches around his dick. Nico's name falls from her lips as her entire body shakes as she comes. Her vision whitens for a split second.

Despite being half out of it, she feels Nico fuck her through her orgasm. She feels when he comes deep inside her and she hums at the feeling. Nico slows down and his pace gets erratic as he comes down from his own orgasm.

She lays in bed while Nico goes to get a cloth to clean her up. She can't feel her legs, and finds just enough strength to lift her head up. She looks down between her legs to see Nico's come dripping out of her. The sight is nearly enough to rile her up again so she puts her head back down and lets out a soft sigh.

Nico gently cleans her up when he gets back with a cloth. She winces when he touches her already sensitive clit. "You okay?" Nico asks.

"Mhm," she hums. "Give me a second. That was definitely a nice way to start our honeymoon."

"There's a lot more where that came from."

"Oh, I'm aware," she giggles.

༺──────────────༻

MAIN HOCKEY

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taglist : @mommahughes19-23 @ceces-obsessions @pucks-goals-penalties @justwanderingbutneverlost @alwaysclassyeagle @Zegrashughes @unicorns3993 @herbouquetbasement @scoupsdetyong @iclyj @loveforaugust @estapa94 @flysdaleflyby @lunaloves9 @beez-86 @h0e4fictionalme-n @orphicdreamers-wp @goalsongspinkthongs @hischierswhore @hughescanucks @dasiysthings @dancerbailey3 @mossybooksandlavender @auriesphantom @marie7366 @jahmya17 @georgii-is-happi @hughesmedicine @fearfam69691 @katie-the-bookworm @Albertdancer @haechanslovey @this-ass-is-eikonic @themotogirl @Onblubayou @paigehughes28 @carlyhughes043 @bunbunbl0gs @loveyatopluto

#hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #hockey smut #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #nhl smut #nico hischier #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier fanfiction #nico hischier fic #nico hischier smut #👻 malia’s kinktober

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holyblonded · 2 months ago

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lost and found | stargirl

pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader, barcelona femeni x teen!teader

summary: you get lost in the city of london, causing the team to panic

warnings: light angst i would say

notes: decision day is slowly approaching and i still haven’t figured out where i am going 💔

“You have your toothbrush?”

“Yes, Olga.”

“Your Switch?”

“Yes, Olga.”

“Did you pack your gum? I know you only like that specific brand.”

“In my front pocket, Ol.”

“And what about—”

“Ay!” Alexia’s voice cut through the rapid-fire questions as she appeared at the top of the stairs, suitcase rolling behind her. “The game is in England, not Australia.”

Olga shot her a glare. “I’m just making sure she has everything.”

“You’re acting like she’s going off to war,” Alexia huffed, joining the two of you at the door. “We’ll be back in three days. And you’ve asked her about her toothbrush three times already.”

��I just don’t want her to forget anything,” Olga argued, crossing her arms. “She always forgets something.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Alexia beat you to it. “She’s not a child, Olga. She’s sixteen now, not five.”

“Exactly! Sixteen! Still a kid.”

“I’m right here, you know,” you cut in, hands on your hips. “I can pack my own suitcase.”

Both women looked at you, then at each other, then back at you. “No, you can’t,” they said in unison.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not that forgetful.”

Olga raised an eyebrow. “Really? Last time you forgot your phone charger.”

“And your cleats,” Alexia added. “You had to borrow Lucy’s, and they were two sizes too big.”

Your cheeks flushed. “That was one time.”

Olga folded her arms, giving you a pointed look. “You also forgot your passport for the Madrid trip.”

“That was… also one time.”

Alexia snorted, shaking her head. “You nearly gave the whole team a heart attack when we realized at the airport.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Okay, fine. Maybe I forget a few things.”

“A few?” Olga scoffed. “You’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached to your body.”

Alexia laughed, reaching out to ruffle your hair. “Don’t be too hard on her. She’s just excited.”

You swatted her hand away, scowling. “I’m not a kid.”

“No,” Olga agreed, grabbing your suitcase and giving it a once-over. “You’re a teenager who needs to be reminded to pack her gum.”

You looked at her, exasperated. “I packed it! It’s in my front pocket. How many times do I have to say it?”

Olga narrowed her eyes, clearly not believing you. She unzipped the front pocket of your backpack, digging around before pulling out the pack of gum triumphantly. “Okay, good. You’re off the hook for this one.”

Alexia laughed, shaking her head. “Olga, you’re acting like she’s going off to college, not an away game.”

“Someone has to be responsible,” Olga defended. “Especially since you’re the one who taught her how to pack last minute.”

You grinned. “Yeah, Ale, you did teach me that.”

Alexia rolled her eyes, feigning offense. “I taught you how to pack efficiently, not forget half your things.”

“Sure, sure.” You gave her a cheeky grin. “Whatever you say, ‘last-minute queen.’”

Olga looked between you two, hands on her hips. “Great. Now there are two of you.”

You and Alexia shared a look before bursting into laughter.

Olga sighed, shaking her head. “Unbelievable. I’m surrounded by chaos.”

“Aw, come on, Ol,” you teased, nudging her arm. “You love us.”

She huffed, but her eyes softened. “Unfortunately, I do. Now, let’s get going before you two make us late.”

You grabbed your bag, giving her a playful salute. “Yes, ma’am!”

Alexia laughed, grabbing her suitcase. “Come on, chaos queen. Let’s go win a game.”

The three of you headed out the door, Olga grumbling about being stuck with the most forgetful people on the planet while you and Alexia shared a conspiratorial grin.

The plane had barely taken off, and you were already on your third lap around the cabin. There was just something about private planes that filled you with an uncontrollable burst of energy. Maybe it was the excitement of the upcoming game. Maybe it was the sugary snacks you’d snuck on board. Either way, you were bouncing off the walls, much to the team’s dismay.

“Estrella, sit down!” Patri shouted as you zoomed past her, nearly knocking over her water bottle.

“Can’t catch me!” you yelled back, leaping over Aitana’s outstretched legs as she tried to trip you.

Pina watched you with wide eyes, probably fearing for her life. “She’s going to bring the plane down,” she muttered to Marta, who just shook her head in resignation.

“You’d think she’s never been on a plane before,” Marta sighed, crossing her arms. “Does she have an off switch?”

“Apparently not,” Patri answered, dodging you again as you sped by, this time with a bag of chips in hand. “Estrella, those aren’t even yours!”

“Finders keepers!” you shouted, shoving another handful into your mouth as you took another lap.

Alexia’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. “Estrelleta. Sit. Down. Now.”

You skidded to a halt, nearly crashing into the seat in front of you. Turning around slowly, you met Alexia’s fierce glare. Her arms were crossed, her jaw set. She looked like she was about to lecture you into next week.

“Uh… just stretching my legs?” you tried, giving her your best innocent smile.

“Sit. Here.” She pointed to the empty seat next to her, leaving no room for argument.

You swallowed, trudging over to her like a scolded puppy. She waited until you were buckled in before giving you a look that made you shrink an inch. “You’re grounded for the rest of this flight,” she said firmly. “No more running. No more stealing snacks. And no more bothering the team.”

You opened your mouth to argue but were silenced by her raised eyebrow. “Yes, Ale,” you mumbled, slumping into your seat.

The plane hit a pocket of turbulence, jerking violently. You barely moved, used to the occasional bumps. But Alexia… she went rigid. Her hands gripped the armrests so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her face lost all color, and she looked straight ahead, eyes wide and unblinking.

You blinked at her. “Uh… Ale?”

She didn’t respond. Her breathing quickened, and she looked like she was about to pass out. The plane dipped again, and she grabbed your arm, fingers digging into your skin. Hard.

You yelped. “Ale! You’re crushing me!”

Her grip tightened. “We’re going to die,” she whispered, her voice shaking.

Your eyes widened. “What? No, we’re not! It’s just a little turbulence!”

“We’re going to crash. I knew it. I knew we should’ve taken the bus.”

“Ale, we’re over the ocean.”

She didn’t seem to hear you, her panic in full force now. Her nails dug into your arm as the plane shuddered again. You tried to pry her fingers off, but she was holding on with the strength of a hundred angry lions.

You looked around, desperate for help. Across the aisle, Lucy was watching, a smirk playing on her lips. You locked eyes with her, mouthing, Help me!

Lucy’s smirk widened. She leaned back in her seat, closed her eyes, and pretended to sleep.

Your jaw dropped at the betrayal.

You tried again to wriggle out of Alexia’s death grip, but she was unmovable, her eyes fixed on the seat in front of her like she was facing down her worst nightmare. “Ale, seriously, you’re cutting off my circulation!”

“If I die, you’re grounded forever,” she mumbled, voice trembling.

You groaned, slumping back in your seat. “If I survive this, you owe me so many snacks.”

Another bump, and Alexia’s grip tightened even more. You bit back a scream, deciding right then and there that you would never, ever run around on a plane again…. at least not when Alexia was onboard.

You walk with the team through the unfamiliar city streets, taking in the crisp air and the buzz of the city as you fall into step beside Aitana. Your hands are stuffed into your pockets, your head on a swivel as you soak in the sights. It’s a routine walk before the big Champions League match, meant to loosen up your muscles and calm any nerves.

The air is charged with anticipation, and you can’t help the bounce in your step.

Aitana’s talking about something, probably the opponent’s midfield setup or a funny meme she saw, but you’re barely listening. Something’s caught your eye. You slow your pace, the rest of the group moving ahead as you stop in front of a shop window.

Your heart skips a beat. Plushies. The cutest plushies you’ve ever seen. A row of them, perfectly lined up behind the glass, big eyes sparkling and tiny paws outstretched. There are kittens, puppies, even a little fox that looks just like the one you used to carry around as a kid.

You press your face against the glass, eyes wide. You need them. All of them.

You look over your shoulder. The team is a few paces ahead, their laughter echoing down the street.

Without a second thought, you slip into the store, the bell above the door chiming as you enter. You’re immediately overwhelmed by the sheer amount of cuteness in the small shop. Shelves upon shelves of plushies, each one more adorable than the last.

Meanwhile, Alexia’s heart is racing. She glances over her shoulder, expecting to see you trailing behind Aitana, your usual spot during these walks. But you’re not there. Her chest tightens.

“Has anyone seen Estrella?” she asks, voice sharp. Her eyes scan the group, counting heads. You’re not there.

Aitana turns, a frown forming. “She was right behind me…” Her voice trails off, eyes widening. “Oh no.”

Panic sets in fast. Irene’s head whips around, searching the street. Marta’s already jogging back the way they came, eyes darting from alleyways to storefronts.

“Estrelleta!” Alexia shouts, her voice echoing down the street. She doesn’t care about the stares from strangers or the worried looks from her teammates. Her chest is tight, her stomach churning. You’re gone.

Irene puts a hand on her shoulder, squeezing tightly. “We’ll find her. She couldn’t have gone far.”

“She’s sixteen,” Alexia hisses, her voice cracking. “In a city she doesn’t know. Alone.”

The rest of the team is buzzing with nervous energy, faces pale and eyes wide. They’ve all seen you sneak off before, but never like this. Never without telling someone where you’re going.

“She was here just a minute ago,” Patri says, voice trembling. “I should’ve been paying attention.”

“We all should’ve,” Marta snaps, more at herself than anyone else. “Where the hell did she go?”

Alexia’s head is spinning. Images flash through her mind, dark alleys, strangers with bad intentions, you calling out for help and no one hearing you. Her heart races, her hands shaking as she digs out her phone. She tries calling you, but it goes straight to voicemail.

“Damn it!” She curses, panic twisting her gut. “Where are you?”

“We should split up,” Keira suggests, her voice urgent. “Cover more ground.”

“Agreed,” Irene says. “Alexia, you and Lucy check that way. We’ll go down the other street.”

Alexia’s moving before she can even think, Lucy at her side as they jog down the sidewalk, eyes scanning every corner, every doorway. She can feel her pulse in her throat, panic clawing at her insides. If something happened to you…

She shakes her head. She can’t think like that. You’re strong. Smart. But you’re also sixteen, and impulsive, and sometimes you don’t think things through.

Her chest tightens again. You’re also hers to protect.

“Estrella!” she shouts again, her voice breaking. “Where are you?”

Lucy grabs her arm, forcing her to stop. “Alexia, breathe. We’ll find her.”

Alexia presses her hands to her face, fighting back the tears threatening to spill over. She can’t fall apart. Not now. Not when you need her. Then, she hears it.

“Oi! Where’d you guys go?”

Her head snaps up. You’re standing on the corner, arms full of plushies, eyes wide in confusion.

Alexia’s legs nearly give out in relief. She rushes toward you, eyes blazing. “Where the hell were you?”

You blink, looking down at the armful of stuffed animals. “Uh… I saw these and…”

“You saw plushies?” Her voice is shaking, fury and relief battling for dominance. “You saw plushies and decided to leave without telling anyone?”

Your face falls. “I was gonna catch up—”

“Do you have any idea how worried I was?” Her voice cracks, and you realize just how shaken she is.

Your heart sinks. “I’m sorry, Alexia. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She exhales, her shoulders slumping. She pulls you into a tight hug, nearly crushing the plushies between you. “Don’t ever do that again,” she whispers, voice thick with emotion. “Don’t you dare scare me like that again.”

You nod against her shoulder, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I won’t. I promise.”

Irene, Marta, and the rest of the team catch up, relief washing over their faces as they see you safe and sound. Aitana looks at the plushies and bursts out laughing. “Seriously? That’s what you were doing?”

You sheepishly hold up the fox. “He looked lonely.”

Pina snorts. “You’re unbelievable.”

Alexia pulls back, wiping her eyes before anyone can see. “You’re grounded.”

Your eyes widen. “What? Why?”

“For making me worry,” she snaps, but there’s no real anger behind it. Just pure relief. “And for sneaking off like that.”

You open your mouth to protest, but her fierce glare shuts you up. “After the match, you’re grounded. No arguments.”

You sigh, but a small smile tugs at your lips. “Fine. But can I at least keep the plushies?”

Alexia looks at the fox, then at your pleading face, and finally relents. “Fine. But they’re staying in the hotel room. Got it?”

“Got it.”

She pulls you in for another hug, holding you tightly. “Don’t ever scare me like that again,” she whispers.

You nod, hugging her back. “I won’t. I promise.”

As the team gathers around you, all joking and teasing, you realize just how loved you are. And as Alexia keeps you close for the rest of the walk, you understand just how much you mean to her.

#barca femeni x teen!reader #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barca x reader #barca femeni #barcelona femeni x teen!reader #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas x teen!reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso x platonic!reader #woso x teen!reader #woso x reader #woso community #woso #⋆｡˚ stargirl

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