#god I want to talk so much about this i want to talk SO much about this!

[trashytracktales]

Heyy girliee, first of all I want to say that your writing is absolutely amazing. I’ve been reading your Lando fics for the past couple of days and “endings, beginnings” had me feeling butterflies in my stomach 🫢 I wanted to ask you if you could write something about lando and reader being friends but constantly having sexual tension building up between them. Maybe they flirt with each other but never think of it as something so serious and one night after a party they completely destroy each other. I fully trust you with this and how you’ll develop the story haha and don’t hold back. Thank youuu :*

Think twice | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you so much for the love on Endings, beginnings & I appreciate you for taking the time to share this. Hope you like it 🤍🎀

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𐙚 summary ──── What starts as a chill party, where they sit in their old habits, ends with new boundaries crossed and a heavy tension they can no longer ignore.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, descriptive language, swearing, mentions of alcohol and drinking, friends to lovers, bit of jealous!Lando, smut, slight teasing, praising, fingering & oral (sit on it), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex.

𐙚 word count ──── 4.8k

𐙚 date ──── Jan. 21, 2025

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THE TWO OF them are always standing next to each other, no matter the room they’re in. The context, just like the reason why this happens, is redundant. Plus, they don’t even do it on purpose; rather, they are unconsciously drawn to each other like two magnets.

The party has finally slowed to a lazy hum, the music just a tolerable background noise now. People linger in clusters around them, their voices a distant murmur blending with the faint bassline of a forgotten playlist. The living room is dim, lit mostly by the glow of a string of fairy lights drooping across the ceiling.

It was supposed to be a small gathering, but then a friend told a friend, and that friend told their friends. And now, it’s almost impossible to find a private spot to catch your breath without breathing someone else’s air.

Somehow, they did. They are tucked into the corner of a couch, their space a small bubble of comfort. Her legs are draped over his lap, bare skin warm against the fabric of his black jeans. He’s cradling her calf in one hand, his thumb absentmindedly stroking her skin.

Her fingers thread through his curls at the back of his head, twirling them lazily. It’s a casual gesture, but it sends a shiver through him every time she does it.

Their conversation shifted into easy gossiping about a mutual friend — someone they both think is trying a bit too hard with their Instagram posts.

“It’s fucking obvious he’s fishing for attention,” says Lando, sounding almost conspiratorial.

“I know, right? The cryptic ass captions, the mirror selfies. He thinks he’s smooth with it, too,” she replies, giggling at the thought.

Lando grins, his thumb still tracing circles on her leg. The banter feels safe, the kind of effortless connection they’ve always had. But underneath it, there’s a quiet tension that neither of them is ready to address. Because they are, maybe, a bit tipsy, or because none of them has ever had the courage to take it further, for some reason.

“Alright, I need to pee,” she announces suddenly, getting ready to stand.

But Lando tightens his grip on her legs, his lips twitching in a smirk. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do,” she insists, half-laughing, half-exasperated. “If I don’t go, I might pee on you.”

Lando shrugs, “Go ahead. Then I might discover a new kink,” he encourages her.

“New?” she laughs. “That implies you already have at least one.”

Lando winks at her without saying a word, the corners of his mouth curling into a mischievous smile.

She rolls her eyes, smiling back at his immature behavior. “My God. You’re actually the worst. Move.”

He doesn’t. Instead, Lando, just stares at her with an expression that’s visibly different. His usual playful gaze has shifted to something more intense, and she tells herself he’s just a little... intoxicated. Still, it makes her heart skip a beat, because he looks so adorable when his eyes focus on something so intently. And so hot, that it makes her almost forget why she wanted to get up in the first place.

“Lan, I’m not joking, I actually have to go,” she whispers, her voice softer now.

He exhales, loosening his grip but not before giving her leg a small, reluctant squeeze.

“Don’t get lost,” he says, the words carrying more weight than they should.

She shakes her head, slipping off the couch and disappearing into the hallway. Lando watches her go, his eyes trailing after her like he’s afraid she might actually not come back.

Which is ridiculous, because he should not care. There are lots of other girls that he can take home tonight if he wants to.

Want, being the keyword.

Leaning back against the couch, he sighs, running a hand through his hair. He’s always known she was the embodiment of the perfect girl for him — funny, kind, and loyal. But tonight, there’s something else in the air that makes his mind wander. The way she carries herself, her laugh, the way she makes everything around her seem brighter.

Lando realized long ago that he wants to he in her presence. The truth hit him like a punch in the gut. And he still feels that punch sometimes, especially when he sees her interacting with other people. Especially men.

He’s had thoughts about her before. Many thoughts. Wild fantasies he brushed off as nothing more than fleeting curiosity. And they’ve joked about it, too, their drunken ‘if we’re single at 35’ pact a favorite running gag. But tonight, it doesn’t feel like a joke — he might actually marry her if she keeps letting him invade her personal space like that. Except she wouldn’t have let Lando do that if she didn’t want him there.

He finds himself smiling at his own thoughts. But then, an unwanted stiffness claws his body.

She’s on the way back when a guy leaning against the wall near the bathroom is blocking her path. He’s tall, too close for Lando’s liking, and he is gesturing animatedly. She’s always too polite, smiling as she talks, but Lando notices the way she shifts her weight, edging away slightly.

Something close to jealousy ignites in his chest, but he manages to tame the feeling by looking away, and forcing himself to take a slow sip of his drink. She can handle herself, he knows that. But he’s also ready to step in, just in case he needs to. Most men don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and he’s aware of how insistent some of them can be.

When she finally returns, Lando’s mood has shifted drastically, and she notices it the second she looks at him.

“Hey, you good?” she asks, plopping back down and swinging her legs over his lap again.

“Yeah,” he says shortly, his hand resuming its absent stroking on her shin.

Her brows knit together. “Not you lying to me. Come on, Landinho, what’s with you?”

“Nothing,” he insists, but his tone is clipped, and his eyes won’t quite meet hers.

She punches his arm lightly, trying to break through whatever wall he’s just put up. “You sure?”

He looks at her then, and the vulnerability in his gaze takes her breath away. “Sure,” he says. But his hand tightens slightly on her leg, like he’s holding onto her in more ways than one.

Her heart clenches. Lando is her friend, the one person she can always count on, but in this moment, she feels the air between them growing in different direction. It’s not the first time, and it doesn’t make her uncomfortable, but it’s not easy for her to sit in it, either.

“You’re being weird,” she states, trying to lighten the mood, but her voice wavers.

“Yeah, sorry,” he mutters, forcing a small smile. “Just tired,” adds Lando, but there’s something he hides behind his eyes, something that makes her chest ache.

She studies his face, her teasing words dying on her lips. His eyes are heavy-lidded, the usual spark dulled by the late hour and maybe one drink too many. His movements are slow, lazy, his thumb still caressing her skin.

“I can see that,” she says gently, sliding her legs off his lap. “Up. Come with me?”

The sudden loss of contact pulls him out of his haze, “Where?” asks Lando, his voice faintly slurred with exhaustion.

“Do you trust me?” she replies with a knowing smile, standing up and extending a hand to him. “My god, Lando. My friend gave me keys to one of the rooms upstairs in case I wanted to crash.”

He hesitates, glancing at her outstretched hand before finally letting out a soft laugh and taking it.

They make their way upstairs, the faint thump of music growing quieter with each step. The room isn’t far, tucked at the end of a hallway. She unlocks the door, revealing a small but cozy space. The room is dimly lit, with a single bedside lamp casting a muted glow over the single bed that’s pressed against one wall, a small dresser, and an armchair in the corner.

Lando steps in behind her, the faint hum of the party fading as the door clicks shut. His gaze sweeps over the room, taking in the space. She lingers by the door for a moment, turning the key with a soft click, locking them in; the sound feels final, and heavier than it should.

Lando notices the bed immediately, his eyes narrowing briefly before he rubs the back of his neck, a gesture that betrays his unease. His voice is low and uncertain as he says, “You know what, I can crash on the couch downstairs. It’s fine.”

She tilts her head, her lips curving into a small smile as she watches him fidget. “You can,” she agrees, knowing that Lando has the superpower to fall asleep anywhere, no matter the place or how loud the background noise is. “Unfortunately, I locked the door,” she adds with fake concern in her voice.

Lando glances at her, his expression caught somewhere between playful and wary. “Yeah. You can unlock it, though.”

“But I won’t,” she replies, her smile softening, her words carrying an unspoken challenge that Lando catches immediately.

His lips part, and for a moment, he says nothing, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. Then, quietly, his voice dipping lower, he says, “Then don’t.”

His words linger between them, and she feels the weight of his gaze as it shifts to her. There’s no teasing in his expression now, no trace of the lighthearted Lando she’s used to.

She lets her arms fall to her side, her pulse quickening.

Lando’s chest rises and falls steadily, though there’s a tautness to his posture. His gaze darts back to the bed, then to her, and she swears she sees a flicker of something in his eyes — fear? Desire? Anticipation?

His jaw tightens, his eyes searching hers, and she feels the weight of everything left unsaid pressing down on them both. Every glance, every touch, every joke that lingered a second too long — it’s all there, bubbling to the surface.

The tension between them that has simmered for months, maybe even years, suddenly feels unbearable. Lando’s eyes meet hers once again, and the quiet resolve in her gaze breaks something inside him. And then, suddenly, a glance he catches from her it’s all it takes. The restraint he’s held onto for so long snaps like a rubber band stretched too far. Before he knows it, he’s closing the gap between them, his hands cupping her face as his lips crash against hers.

She responds instantly, her hands tangling in his curls as she pulls him closer. The kiss is all-consuming, months of buried feelings and unsaid words spilling out in a rush. It’s intoxicating, a heavy blend of alcohol and the faint sweetness of her cherry lip balm. His lips are soft, impossibly so, molding against hers like they were made to fit. The taste of him is dizzying, a perfect balance of warmth and want, and each movement of his mouth sends sparks of heat rippling through her.

It’s overwhelming, the way Lando kisses her — gentle, but with a growing intensity that leaves her breathless, her heart pounding as if it’s trying to match the rhythm of his. His fingers trail down to her neck, squeezing lightly and pulling her against him as they stumble backward toward the bed.

“Do you know how long—” he begins against her lips, his voice rough with need.

“Too long,” she cuts him off with another kiss while her fingers are rushing to tug at the hem of his shirt.

Lando groans as they tumble onto the bed. Their breaths are loud and uneven, filling the small space as their lips crash together again, need and desire fueling every movement. Her palm presses against the small of his back, coaxing him between her legs. He instinctively follows her guidance, his body lowering against hers until his forehead rests on hers. At that, Lando sighs, not with frustration but a soft exasperation that halts them both.

“Are we… okay?” he asks, half-amused and half-concerned. “We shouldn’t—we should not do this. Not like this.”

She doesn’t release him, her hands still on his sides, her legs loosely wrapped around him. “We are,” she assures him, her voice calm but insistent. “It’s just us, Lando.”

His brows furrow, his lips parting in disbelief. “I know. I just don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and—”

Her hands move to his face, cupping it firmly and forcing him to look directly at her. “Regret it?” the girl asks, her thumbs stroking his cheekbones. “Don’t be silly. You know this isn’t about tonight. I’ve wanted you for a while now. I know you do, too.”

His eyes flicker with something raw, and he swallows hard. “I do,” he agrees. “But. It’d be such a waste to mess it up.”

The weight of his confession settles over them, and he falls onto the mattress beside her. For a moment, they both stare up at the ceiling, their fingers brushing tentatively before intertwining. It’s quiet, save for the hum of the party faintly bleeding through the walls.

And then, “You’re such a good kisser, by the way,” she finally breaks the silence.

He lets out a chuckle, visibly affected. “You’re not making it any easier.”

“I’m already messed up because of you, Lan,” she confesses, turning onto her side, her fingers finding his arm and tracing slow patterns along its length. “I trust us. No matter the outcome.”

Her hand travels to his chest, her fingers brushing lightly over his collarbone before moving to his jaw. She traces the line of it, her touch light but electrifying. Finally, her thumb brushes over his bottom lip, her gaze following her movements so closely, as if she wants to devour him.

Their thoughts run wild, revisiting every stolen glance, the tension, the want — it’s always been there. Every moment brought them here.

And now?

“Do you, really?” asks Lando, his voice laced with curiosity.

She nods, her hands sliding down to rest over his, her fingers curling around his. “Completely. I trust us to figure it out as we go. Don’t you?”

He lets her words settle, a warmth spreading through his body. He does. But he still has to think twice before agreeing to something so drastic, especially when he is faced with something he wants so badly that it makes him burn with impatience.

Finally, Lando sighs, looking at her.

“It’s not a big deal, right?” she says with a quiet laugh, her voice tinged with both affection and relief. “We’ve always been good at just... being us.”

He smiles at that, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. “That’s true. We’re pretty fucking great at that.”

Lando’s breathing hitches as she guides his hand to her ass, pressing it against her curves with an undeniable confidence. His grip tightens instinctively, and she drapes a leg over his waist, pulling herself closer. Their eyes lock, her fingers tracing his features, as if committing every contour to memory. They’ve never been so close to each other, and the intimacy of the moment makes his heart race, while hers almost melts under the warmth of his body.

“You’re going to ruin me,” he admits matter-of-factly.

Her lips curl into a faint smile. “Hopefully,” she whispers, her hand traveling south, to work on unbuttoning his jeans.

Lando swallows hard, his gaze darkening as he grips her tighter. “If I fuck you tonight…” his voice drops, laced with a possessiveness that makes her shiver. “I won’t be able to let another guy come anywhere near you again.”

Her eyebrows arch in surprise, finally able to put the pieces together, understanding why Lando was acting so strange earlier.

“Are you jealous, Lando?” she teases, though there’s a flicker of curiosity in her tone.

Lando’s response is silent; instead, he leans in, his lips finding the soft curve of her neck. He sucks lightly, then harder, leaving a blooming hickey that makes her gasp.

When he pulls back, his voice is firm, “No, I just want people to stay away from what’s mine.”

Her breath catches, and before she can stop herself, the word escapes her lips in a near-whisper. “Yours.”

The corners of his mouth twitch, but he doesn’t say anything, letting the intensity in his gaze speak for him. She pushes at his chest, making him fall back against the mattress with a soft laugh, and crawls on top of him, her thighs straddling his hips.

Impatiently, her hands work on his shirt, pushing it up his chest. “Off,” she demands, tugging until he lifts his arms and lets her pull it over his head.

His hands waste no time, slipping under her skirt and pulling at the lace of her panties. “These,” he says quickly, his breath warm against her collarbone, “are in my way.”

With a sharp pull, he slides them down her thighs, and she shivers as the cool air kisses her damp skin. She leans down, burying her face in the crook of his neck to hide her embarrassment as he guides her hips forward, her bare core pressing against the warmth of his abs. The firm ridges of muscle beneath her send a jolt of pleasure through her body, and she lets out a soft moan.

Lando’s hand tightens on her hip, his thumb brushing over her skin. “Look at that,” he breathes heavily, “What got you so excited, hm?”

She whimpers at his words, the heat pooling in her cheeks as much as between her thighs. “Don’t—” she mumbles into his neck, her voice muffled and shy.

He chuckles softly, the vibration of it against her skin making her shudder. “No, that’s so hot,” he teases, moving her hips just slightly so she drags against him. His own breath catches, and his hips shift upward, pressing the hardness of his length against her thigh. “You feel what you’re doing to me? It’s mutual.”

She lifts her head, her eyes meeting his as she lets her fingers trail down his chest. Next, she adjusts herself as her hand slides lower, brushing against the waistband of his pants before she pushes them down just enough to free him. His cock springs free, and she bites her lip at the sight of it, her own arousal growing as she reaches out to wrap her hand around him.

Lando groans, his head falling back against the pillow. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice rough and full of longing.

As she leans down to press her lips to his chest, her tongue flicking over his nipple, a sound escapes him that’s somewhere between a gasp and a moan. She glances up again, amused. “Well,” she teases, her voice playful but sultry, “I think I just found your new kink.”

Lando lets out a weak chuckle, his hand tangling in her hair as he pulls her back up to kiss her. “Shut up,” he speaks over her lips, but the way his hips buck against her hand tells her she’s right. “Everything you do is my kink,” he whispers, the rawness in his voice making her heart race.

Her cheeks flush a deeper shade, and with a playful glint in her eye, her hand squeezes his cock lightly, eliciting a sharp inhale from him. “Sorry,” she giggles, feigning innocence, “I just wanted to make sure.”

He scoffs, shaking his head with a smirk before his hands cup her ass firmly, pressing her harder against him. His voice is rough and dripping with need as he almost begs, “Come sit on my face.”

The unexpected plea is leaving her breathless, painting her face in confusion. “What?” she stammers, her voice nearly swallowed by the thrum of arousal coursing through her.

“Yeah, you heard me,” Lando assures her, his tone insistent, his eyes ablaze with anticipation.

Without waiting for her to argue, he pushes her skirt up around her waist, revealing the soft skin of her thighs, and pulls her closer to his face. She hesitates for a moment, her nerves warring with her desire, but when his strong hands guide her gently and his lips press a teasing kiss against her inner thigh, she gives in. The first swipe of his tongue against her entrance makes her gasp, her hand flying to the wall to steady herself.

Lando groans as he tastes her, the sound vibrating against her core and sending shockwaves through her body. One arm wraps tightly around her thigh, anchoring her to him, while his free hand drifts down to his cock, stroking himself in tandem with the rhythm of his tongue. Her moans spill into the air, mixing with his as Lando’s mouth works her over like a man starved, warm and wet and utterly relentless.

“Lan,” she breathes, her voice shaky as the intensity builds. Her hips jerk against his mouth instinctively, and he responds by pulling her even closer, burying his face deeper between her legs.

His tongue flicks, swirls, and presses in all the right places, and she can barely keep herself upright. She has to press both of her palms on the wall, but even then it’s not enough to keep her grounded. Not when Lando laps at her clit, his fingers digging into her thighs to keep her still as her body begins to tremble.

“You taste so fucking good,” he informs her between strokes of his tongue, his words muffled but clear enough to make her toes curl.

As her breaths turn shallow and erratic, she feels the pressure coiling tightly in her abdomen. Lando senses it, too, and his grip tightens, his movements growing more fervent. “Wanna come for me?” he asks as impatient as she is.

Before she can even process his question, her climax crashes into her like a tidal wave, her thighs trembling around his head as her moans echo through the room. Lando doesn’t stop, his mouth and tongue coaxing her through every pulse and tremor until she’s gasping for air.

In one swift, effortless motion, he pulls her down onto the bed and flips her over, positioning himself above her. His lips are slick, his gaze heavy-lidded with lust as he pumps two fingers into her, the wet heat of her still clenching around him.

“That’s it,” he encourages, his thumb brushing against her sensitive clit as his fingers curl inside. “Let me feel you.”

Her body arches off the bed as another wave of pleasure crests over her, Lando’s name spilling from her lips in breathless cries. The sheer intensity of his touch and the quickness of it all leave her spinning, her mind barely able to keep up as he drives her over the edge once more.

By the time her breathing begins to steady, Lando leans down, his lips brushing hers in a lingering kiss, tasting her satisfaction on his tongue. He grins against her mouth, utterly smug but entirely captivated.

“See how fucking delicious you are?” he whispers, and she can only nod, still lost in the aftermath of him unraveling her completely.

Seeing the pleasure etched across her face, Lando can barely hold it together. His hands tremble slightly as he shoves his jeans and boxers down for good, freeing himself at last. His cock, heavy and flushed, rests against her thigh, the warmth of her skin giving him goosebumps. He breathes heavily, his chest rising and falling in sync with hers as he pauses for just a moment, meeting her gaze with a mix of vulnerability and pure lust.

“Are we really gonna do this?” asks Lando, his voice hiding too much desire under its raspy tone.

His eyes search hers, looking for any hint of doubt. Luckily, there is none. She just nods frantically, her hands sliding down his back to cup the firm muscles of his ass.

Her touch sends electricity through him, and she guides him where she needs him most, her body arching in anticipation. “I want you. Please.”

Without breaking eye contact, he sinks into her, and the world stops for both of them. His head falls forward, a low groan rumbling from his chest as he feels her warmth envelop him, her slick heat drawing him in effortlessly. Her body opens for him so easily, so perfectly, that it steals his breath. The tension that had coiled tightly in her frame melts away as her legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer.

Her arms encircle his shoulders, holding him tightly while she gasps Lando’s name. Her voice is music to his ears, and he presses his forehead against hers, the connection between them both overwhelming, yet grounding. Her fingers slide into his curls, playing with the strands at the nape of his neck as her hips shift instinctively, adjusting to his size.

“God, you feel…” he trails off, unable to find the words. Instead, he lets his body speak for him, drawing back before thrusting forward again. His movements are purposeful and powerful, each one making the bed creak slightly beneath them and pushing her up and down the sheets.

Her lips part with soft cries, her fingers tightening in his hair as her body meets each of his thrusts. “Lando,” she moans, her voice full of need and adoration, spurring him on. “Yes, that feels so good. Don’t stop.”

He catches her mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing her sounds as his hands wander over her body. His fingers hook under the hem of her t-shirt, and he tugs it upward, breaking the kiss momentarily to pull it over her head. The sight of her bare skin, flushed and glistening, takes his breath away. Her breasts are adorned with black lace, and the contrast against her skin ignites something primal in him.

“Stunning,” says Lando just as his hand drifts to her chest, brushing over the delicate fabric.

The way she arches into his touch, her nails scraping lightly against his shoulders, drives him wild. His thrusts deepen, his hips moving with purpose as the room fills with the sounds of their bodies meeting, her moans, and his ragged breaths.

“Fucking hell,” he rasps. His jaw clenches as he feels her tightening around him. “You’re killing me. So tight and—”

Before he can finish, she pulls him into a kiss. It’s shallow, their lips barely meeting as they breathe each other’s air. Her nails dig into his back, her legs trembling as she holds him as close as humanly possible.

“You’re so good, Lando,” she murmurs, her voice quivering, her praise like gasoline on his fire. “My favorite boy.”

Her words send him over the edge of control, his hips stuttering as he thrusts deep inside her, feeling her walls begin to flutter and clench around his cock. Her back arches, her head burying into the pillow as her orgasm crashes over her like a tidal wave. Again.

Her moans are unfiltered, and she clutches him like he’s her lifeline, while Lando stills inside her, groaning low and long as her body grips him so tightly that knocks the air out of his lungs. He presses his forehead against her chest, their breaths hurried as her aftershocks pulse around him so sweetly. Her nails scrape lightly down his back, grounding them both, continuing to whisper his name like a prayer.

It’s enough for Lando to surrender to his own orgasm, his body trembling as wave after wave of release takes him over. He stays buried inside her, unwilling to part just yet. The warm tightness around him makes him shudder, his hand gripping her thigh to anchor himself.

When he finally pulls out, he hesitates before pressing his knee between her legs, feeling the slick warmth of their combined arousal smearing against his skin. She squirms against him, her overstimulated body trembling, her hips shifting involuntarily as aftershocks ripple through her.

Lando watches her, his eyes dark with satisfaction, his voice husky as he whispers, “Forget 35. Let’s get married tomorrow.”

She exhales sharply, a laugh bubbling out of her. “I’m down,” she teases, her tone light but affectionate. “Let’s book the venue now.”

He looks at her, gaze softening, filled with something deeper as he reaches behind her and, with one measured motion, unclasps her bra. The suddenness of it catches her off guard, her eyes widening as he tosses it aside like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Before she can say a word, Lando leans over the side of the bed, fishing for his shirt. He finds it, holding it up, then tugging it over her head, the oversized fabric swallowing her frame.

“Perfect fit,” he says softly, his fingers brushing against her arms as he helps her adjust it. The gesture makes her chest tighten, her heart swelling with an ache she doesn’t fully understand yet.

After that, Lando slides back into his boxers and pulls the covers over both of them. The bed is small, forcing their bodies to press together in a tangle of limbs. It doesn’t feel awkward, though. It feels like a new home, safe and peaceful.

He rests his head on her chest, his breath warm and steady against her, while his hand absently caresses her through the fabric of his shirt, his fingers brushing over her nipple. Everything about the moment feels somehow so normal, like they’ve been this way forever.

The silence stretches on, so comforting, until she suddenly breaks it with a soft groan. “I have to pee again.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Thank you for reading!

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© trashy track tales, 2025

[mytherapyisreading14]

Drunk Confessions

Summary: You got drunk during a night out with your best friend and accidentally send your Professor a photo of you in lingerie. Now you try to avoid him, which is not really working.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Smut (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: alcohol consumption, dirty talk, dom!spencer, semi-public sex, hair pulling, thigh riding, spanking, fingering, praise kink, multiple orgasms, oral sex (kinda, he comes in her mouth)

Word Count: 4,6k

Author’s Note: My last posts got so many likes, I didn’t expect that at all, thank you sm!! <3

Your alarm goes off - 8:30am. You groan. Your head is pounding and the sun shining into your room is just way too bright. Your stomach turns and you close your eyes to escape the wave of nausea. You slowly sit up and search for your phone on the nightstand. It feels like your head is going to explode. You reach out and unlock the screen, turning your alarm off.

It's way too early. And you drunk way too much last night. It was a chaotic but nice yesterday, a night full of laughter, way too much alcohol and karaoke. Your best friend celebrated her birthday and you promised to go to your favorite bar with her. You have to smile when you think back to the night and start checking your messages. You see that she already texted you this morning to find out how you are doing.

How are you?

I have the worst headache after last night

It was fun though, wanna go again tonight?

Just kidding, I feel like I need a week to recover from this

You can’t help but laugh and answer her quickly. You are about to put your phone away to finally get ready when a new chat catches your eye. You freeze in shock. It’s your Professors name. The one you’ve been crushing on since you saw him for the very first time.

Back when you found out that you were getting a new professor, you didn't expect much, a lecture like any other with someone who was only concerned with reciting his material. But then he entered. He came through the door and for a moment it seemed as if time stood still. The room, which had just been immersed in the murmur of conversation, suddenly became silent.

He was tall - taller than you expected and his presence filled the room in a way that you couldn't put into words. He wore a simple but elegant suit that somehow effortlessly fit him perfectly. His hair was a little longer, curly and fell slightly over his forehead. And then he looked up. His big, brown eyes met yours and in a split second everything became clear to you. You immediately knew you wanted, needed, this man.

Now you stare at the chat in complete horror. He recently gave you his number for a project. That's how this whole texting thing could even happen. Your heart is pounding in your chest. Obviously you can't remember texting him. You were so drunk yesterday that you can't even remember how you got home.

You open the chat - and your heart stops for a moment. It wasn't just a message that you sent him. It was a photo. Of you, in lingerie. It’s one of your favorite sets, you got it a couple of weeks ago. "I wore this for you today, Professor. Do you like it?” You wrote in addition to the photo.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. You just stare at the screen, the picture of you that you should never, ever, ever have sent. And the worst part: He read it. But didn't reply. Confusion and panic spreads through you. You jump out of bed, your feet barely finding purchase on the floor, and your heart keeps racing. You try to think clearly, but your thoughts are a complete mess.

You reach for your phone again and frantically tap on the chat with your best friend, but you pause and call her instead. "Hello?" Her voice still sounds sleepy and hungover. “Oh my God, I need your help!" you gasp and immediately start telling her everything.

The line is silent, then you hear a short laugh. "Wait a minute... what? You did that?" You close your eyes and search for the right words. But before you can say anything, it hits you like a blow. You also have a lecture with him today.

"I’m not coming today," you tell her. “You can't just cancel!" she says immediately, and you hear her getting herself settled in her bed. Her voice sounds determined, but also worried. "You know how it is, our seminar today. We can't miss it. We said that celebrating wouldn't stop us," she says. "Celebrating isn't what would stop me either. Seeing him definitely is," you say and lean back with a groan.

You close your eyes and sink even deeper into the pillows. Your stomach clenches when you think about it. She’s right, You really have to go today. But the text, the picture that you sent him - what if he wants to talk to you about it? Or worse, he reports the whole thing?

"I can't just sit in front of him today and pretend that everything is normal. I sent him a picture of me in lingerie... I can't face him. It's just... it's just too much!" There is silence on the other end of the line for a moment. She still hasn't said anything, and you know she's thinking. Then you hear her take a deep breath.

“Okay, the thing with the picture, that's really... a little crazy. But hey, you can skip the lecture. Just disappear after the seminar and then hide in your apartment. Or you can go and hope that when you run into him, he'll do completely different things after you seeing this photo. I bet you looked hot, was it the new set you recently bought?” she asks and you can hear her grin even though you're on the phone.

Obviously she knows about your crush on your professor. You couldn’t stop talking about him after your first lecture and she took every opportunity to tease you about it. You look at your phone as if it were the only thing that could help you think clearly. Of course she's right. You have to go to your seminar. And you can really skip his lecture. Still, the idea that he might be thinking about it makes your heart beat faster and not just in excitement.

“You're right, I... okay, I'll come," You say after a short pause, but the thought of maybe running into him still makes you nervous. “You'll see, it won't be as bad as you think. You'll get through the seminar, it's only an hour. And then we'll be out and we can take our time for everything else. And you'll just avoid your favorite professor today," she continues to teases.

“Today? More like forever," you mutter and finally get up, even though the thought of getting out of bed still paralyzes you. “See you soon then. I'll shower and get dressed now, then I'll come. Let’s meet outside the building, okay?" you ask. "Sure!" she calls out happily. "See you soon and don’t forget to wear another fancy set for your professor today. Just in case you run into him,” she jokes.

After you hang up you put the phone on the pillow and stand there for a moment, your legs heavy, your head still about to explode. But then you take a deep breath. It'll be fine, you just have get through the seminar. With a sigh, you go into the bathroom and take painkillers first. Then you start getting ready.

You turn on the water and let it run hot. A short time later, you go into the shower. The hot steam envelops you and slowly your body feels a little alive again. The nausea subsides and the hangover becomes more bearable. After the shower, you get dressed in peace - black skirt, a comfy sweater and your favorite sneakers. You quickly walk through the apartment again to make sure you packed everything and when you leave the house, you somehow feel less like a wreck.

-

The smell of freshly served pasta is still in your nose as you say goodbye. You got lunch together after your seminar and it was nice to get a little break and talk about everything that happened. Now you are ready to leave but you still have to go to the library to get a book that you need for your upcoming assignment first.

“I still have to go to the library," you tell her, pulling your bag over your shoulder. “Are you coming with me?” you ask her. “I’m sorry, I have to pick up my sister now. But be careful, you don’t want to run into your favorite professor, or do you?” she teases again. “I’m not going to run into him. I’ll hurry up and leave immediately. I’ll call you later. See you tomorrow," you say and give her a quick wave before you set off.

-

The campus is full of students rushing through the halls, carrying their books around or sitting in groups and discussing. You slip into the library and head straight to the section where the book you need is. Unfortunately it’s at the top of the shelf and you realize that you probably won't be able to reach it. You jump up a few times, but the distance between you and the book just seems too big. You sigh. If only you were a little taller.

As you attempt the jump for the third time, you suddenly feel a presence building behind you. One that seems familiar. Your heart beats faster and a nervous tremor takes hold of you. You turn around and stare straight into Professor Reid's eyes. He is standing just inches away from you and you can hear the soft sound of his breathing.

The look he gives you is almost piercing - warm, but somehow also searching. He leans forward slightly without saying a word and effortlessly grabs the book with one hand. You avoid his gaze as he hands it to you. “Thank you," you murmur, trying to hide the slight nervous tremor in your voice. He nods and stands still for a moment.

"You weren't at my lecture today." You stare at the book in your hands and feel your stomach clench. This is not good. “I..." you take a deep breath. "I haven't been feeling so good. My head..." He waits, his eyes still fixed on you, and you get the feeling that he wants to hear more. You feel his gaze on you and when you finally raise your eyes to look into his eyes, there is a silent understanding, and for a moment you wonder if there’s more. “Sick, or...?" he asks calmly. You hesitate and bite your lip.

"I went out partying with my best friend yesterday, it was her birthday… we drank a little bit too much and... well, I'm not feeling so good today. That’s why I skipped." His expression remains neutral, but something in his gaze changes. You can hardly believe it, but it's almost as if he's interested. He frowns slightly. "I understand," he then says. "But it's not ideal to miss class, especially when important topics are involved."

You nod. “I know, Professor. I won’t happen again.” You just want to get out of this situation, and as you try to take a step back he stops you. "No, wait. I need to talk to you." You pause and turn back to him. "About what? I don’t really have the time -" you begin, pretending you don't have any idea what he wants to talk about, when he cuts you off.

"Doesn’t matter, it’s important. We'll sort it out in my office." His gaze is intense as he steps towards you. The thought of him asking you to come to his office makes your heart beat faster. The idea of ​​being alone in a room with him is tempting. "Okay," you say quietly, unable to prevent a nervous tingling from spreading in your chest. You follow him, even though your legs feel like they're made of jelly.

He leads the way, his steps calm and determined, and you can barely keep your eyes from lingering on his back. As soon as you reach the door to his office, he opens it and lets you enter first. You step in, your heart now beating loudly in your ears. The moment he closes the door behind you, you realize that it is more than just a conversation about the seminar.

The look he is giving you now is not the look of a professor. It is the look of a man who wants more than just academic discussions at this moment. And the thought that you’re alone with him in this room inevitably leaves you nervous and intrigued at the same time.

As the door closes behind you, you’re left breathless for a moment. His office is quiet, almost too quiet, compared to the crowded hallways outside. The room is sparsely decorated, except for the desk covered with stacks of paper and a few personal items. He is still standing at the table, his arms loosely folded in front of his chest and looks at you.

"Sit down," he says calmly, pointing to the chair on the opposite of the desk. You hesitate, then finally sit down, your heart pounding in your chest. The nervous energy inside you grows as you try to organize your thoughts. Before he can say anything else, you can’t hold it back any longer. The words come out of you hastily, almost in a rush, and you feel your body tense.

"The picture, it was a mistake! I didn't mean to... It wasn't meant for you. I was drunk, and it was stupid of me, really. I'm sorry." You look at the table, avoiding his gaze. But as you say the last words, you immediately notice how the atmosphere in the room changes. He remains silent for a moment, but then his body language shifts slightly - his gaze becomes more intense, the tension between you almost tangible.

"Hmm," he says after a pause, his voice deep and calm, "so the picture wasn't meant for me?" You flinch when you hear his question. What exactly does he want to hear? What does he want to know from you? You try to stay calm and answer hesitantly.

"It... it's none of your business." His expression hardens instantly. "It is," he says, and his voice sounds sharper, more determined now. "Because you sent it to me." Your heart beats faster as he continues. "I don't think it was an accident, even if you were drunk. You wanted to send it to me. And you did."

A cold shiver runs down your spine. You open your mouth, trying to say something, but you can't find a way to defend yourself. Instead, you just stay still, looking at your hands, which are resting nervously on your lap.

He laughs quietly, a mocking, almost challenging laugh. "So you're really sure it was an accident, huh?" He slowly leans forward, rests his hands on the table and looks straight into your eyes. The look in his eyes has changed, and something in his expression shows you that he is the one in control.

"Do you really think I haven't noticed how you look at me in class? How you keep watching my hands? How you press your thighs together when I approach you?" His words hit you and you freeze for a moment. Your cheeks burn hot, you feel your heart pounding uncontrollably, but you keep quiet. Everything inside you screams to defend yourself, but you stay silent because you know he’s right.

"I noticed from the beginning, angel," he continues, and a shiver runs down your spine. You can’t believe he just called you that. It turns you on immensely. "I know you didn't just do it because of the party and the alcohol. You also sent it to me because you wanted to." He leans further forward, his presence overwhelming, and you can't help but feel small even as you try to assert yourself.

You open your mouth to say something, but the words stick in your throat. What could you say? That he's wrong? That would be a lie. “You sent it to me," he repeats, his voice now almost like a command. "Because you wanted to show me. And I don't think it was an accident. You were drunk, yes, but you wanted me to see you like this."

Your body is paralyzed. It feels like the room has suddenly become smaller. You can hardly breathe. His words and his look have completely captured you in that moment. “I... uh," you begin, but the thought that he is in control, that he sees you like this at this moment, leaves you speechless and you’re unable form a proper sentence.

He remains silent, only his eyes continue to focus on you. "You have to understand that you can't just play with me like that." His gaze becomes more intense, and for a moment it seems as if he wants to say more but then he slowly stands up, walks around the table and stops right in front of you.

"I'll show you something," he says in a calm but unmistakable voice. "And you will understand why it wasn't just an accident." Your heart beats faster. His hand reaches for your chin, lifting it up and tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. Your breath hitches and you lean closer, craving his touch. “Get up and lock the door for me,” he says and pulls his hand away slowly.

You do as your told immediately and when you turn around, he is sitting on his chair with his legs spread. He looks so hot and you desperately clench your thighs together to relief the pressure between your legs. “Good girl. Come here,” he says and pats his thigh. You shiver in excitement and when he notices a grin spreads across his face.

You go over to him and when you stand in front of him, he pulls you down into his lap. He leans forward to whisper into your ear “That’s what you wanted, right? To be my good girl. That’s why you send me that picture. You wanted to end up here,” he says and places his hands on your hips. You press yourself closer against him and inhale his scent, he smells like cinnamon, peppermint and aftershave, it’s addictive.

However, you get interrupt by his hand reaching into your hair to pull your head back. You gasp in surprise and he leans closer to you, looking deep into your eyes again. “I asked you a question. I expect an answer,” he says and you can feel yourself getting even wetter. “Yes, that’s true. I - I always wanted that,” you manage to say and he releases your hair, satisfied with your response.

Then he leans forward and you finally feel his lips against yours. It’s even better than you always imagined and you start to grind against his leg, desperate to release the friction between your legs. But Spencer quickly stops you. “Did I allow you to move?” he asks and you shake your head.

He sighs in disappointment but before he can say anything you quickly answer him. “No, you didn’t,” you say and his grip on your hips looses a little. “That’s right. I didn’t. And you’re not allowed to move until I tell you to. You’re going to listen to me and do exactly what your told, do you understand?” he asks. “I understand.”

“See, it’s not that hard. You listen to me, you behave and you’ll get your reward. Now, do you want to ride my thigh?” he asks, his hand slowly sliding behind your back to your ass, squeezing it. “Yes, please. Can I?” you ask and he leans forward to kiss you again, his tongue exploring your mouth. When he pulls back you can see his eyes sparkling with lust. “So polite, I like that. Yes, you can,” he says and you finally go back to moving against his thigh.

It feels good, so good and when Spencer starts to slide one hand under your shirt to grab your breasts you press closer against him. You can feel that you soaked your underwear trough and wearing only a skirt, you can already see a small wet stain on his pants. His gaze follows yours and he chuckles. “Someone’s needy,” he says and you nod, leaning against his chest, grinding down more against him.

“Spen - Spencer, I’m going to come,” you whimper but he pulls you back by your hair again. “It’s Sir for you, angel,” he says and you correct yourself immediately. “Please Sir, can I come on your thigh now?” you breath out and he grabs your hips again, stopping you.

“No, not yet,” he simply says and you whine when he stands up and you lose contact. “But I thought - “ you start but he doesn’t let you finish. He turns you around and pushes you down onto his desk. “Doesn’t matter what you thought. I decided I’m not letting you come yet,” he says and flips over your skirt to expose your underwear to him.

“I see, another pair then the ones you wore yesterday. I’ve got to admit, I prefer the other ones, but you look pretty anyway, angel,” he says, sliding his hands over your thighs and your ass. “Last night when you send me that picture, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits and you can feel your whole body reacting to his words.

A wave of confidence flashes through you. “Did I keep you up last night, Sir? Did you have to stroke your cock while you looked at my picture? Thinking about all the ways you want to fuck me?” you ask him and turn your head slightly back to look at him with a smirk on your face. His eyes darken and he tightens his grip.

“Oh you have no idea, angel. I’m going to show you exactly what I was thinking about last night,” And suddenly you feel a harsh smack on your ass. He just spanked you. And you liked it. Your breath hitches and you bit down on your lip to keep quiet. You don’t want anyone to find out what’s going on in here.

His hand strokes the spot he just hit before going further down to pull at your panties. He takes them off and stuffs them into his pocket. You are convinced you’re not going to get them back. Then you feel his long, slender fingers sliding between your legs before he presses onto your clit. You gasp in surprise and try to press against him but his grip on your hips is firm, holding you still.

Then he pushes two fingers inside you. “So fucking wet.” His eyes wander over your body down to your legs hungrily, appreciating every curve and every spot. “I’ve never seen such a pretty pussy. And it’s all mine now. You’re all mine now,” he says. The way his fingers move and the way he stares at you intensely feels just way too good.

When his thumb goes back to your clit, rubbing it in slow circles, you can feel how your orgasm builds up inside of you and you can no longer hold back your moans. “Spencer - Sir, feels so good. Please,… I need more,” You clench around his fingers and he quickly puts a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. “Shh, be quiet, angel. As much as I would love to hear all these lovely sounds you make, I don’t want to get interrupted. Not now, when I finally have you, after all this time.”

His fingers curl inside you and keep hitting your g -spot. You clench around them, he notices and chuckles. “Can I - please,” you stutter. “Yes angel,” he says, already knowing what you’re asking for and you come around his fingers. You never had such an intense orgasm from foreplay before, but you don’t mind. It’s even better than you always imagined.

He wants to give you a moment to recover but you want more. You somehow manage to turn around, even though your legs feel like they are going to give in any second and push yourself up on his desk. He looks surprised and opens his mouth to say something but you interrupt him by pulling him closer by his tie.

You wrap your hands around his neck and rank your fingers through his soft, brown hair before kissing him. You moan into his mouth and he groans, sending a shiver down your spine. “Thank you, Sir. That was amazing,” you say with a smirk on your face when you pull back. “Now is the time to lose your pants and relax, I want to return the favor.”

“As much as I want to see you down on your knees with your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, we don’t have much time left. Office hour starts in less than 30 minutes. And I need to fuck you. So drop it and spread your legs for me. Now,” he demands and you obliged, sitting further back on his desk with your legs spread.

He takes a step back and starts to unzip his dress pants. When he takes out his cock your eyes widen. He is even bigger than you expected. “Are you on the pill?” he asks while he starts to pump his cock. “I am,” you say. “Good. I want to fuck your pussy and then, since you suggested sucking me off, come inside your mouth. I want you to taste me. You don’t swallow until I say so. Do you understand?” he asks, sliding his cock through your folds to tease you. “Yes Sir, I understand,” you whimper and he wastes no time and pushes inside you.

His first thrust already make your eyes roll back and you feel like you’re going to die from the intense pleasure. Your legs wrap around his waits and your hands are on his back, pressing him even more against your body. Everytime a whimper or a moan escapes your mouth his thrust become deeper, rougher and faster. You can feel him throb inside you and he keeps hitting your g- spot over and over again.

One of his hand is sneaking through your breast, squeezing it and toying with your nipple. You graze his back with your fingernails and make sure to leave marks on him. Your mind goes blank and you lose yourself in the pleasure completely. After a few more thrust you can feel the orgasm building up inside of you. “Close,” you breath out and he nods. “Me too. You can come on my cock now.”

You let go and your orgasm is even more intense than you expected. You moan his name so loud that he quickly covers your mouth with his hand again. He picks up his speed and a few thrusts later he pulls out of you to shove his cock into your mouth. You can feel his cum inside your mouth and taste him, just like he told you to. He watches you closely the whole time while he recovers from his own orgasm.

“Now swallow,” he says and you do. Then he pulls you forward with both of his hands to kiss you. The kiss is different this time, more gentle and caring, not just full of lust. When he pulls back you both smile. “I guess sending you this picture was not bad at all. And I was so worried.” He laughs. “I’m glad you send it, angel. Now I finally have you all to myself. It's a shame I couldn't take more time for you right now. There's a lot more I'd like to do with you,” he says with a mischievous smile on his face. “Why don’t you show me after your office hours, Sir?” you say with a smirk on your face. “Make sure to be here on time, angel.”

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 7

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: sexual content, mental abuse, toxic relationship, language Wordcount: 7.7K A/C: SHE'S BAACKKK!!! omg i missed you guys so much you don't even know! I AM BACK and i'm locked in and i finally got this chapter out for you, ty for being so so patient with me, i will have more time to write for everyone now!! ily guys and tysm for 1k followers, i have a little surprise to you to celebrate that soon :)) ILYM <33

italics are flashbacks

-

Before London

“You buckled up?”

“Yes,” I murmur, crossing my legs and looking out the window. It’s one of those days where it’s been grey and gloomy since the morning. The dark clouds billow in along the horizon, causing an unbearable humidity to fall over Dallas. The weather felt heavy, everyone hoping for a gentle May storm to bring some relief. I could feel sweat growing in my neck, the humidity causing my hair to turn unruly, impossible to manage, dark curls twisting every which way except the direction they were supposed to.

The heaviness was impossible to escape, even in Paige’s car - though I’m not exactly sure if it’s the weather or the tension between us having my stomach doing flips.

“Jesus…” The blonde mumbles to herself when a song by The Weeknd starts playing, nimble hands quickly skipping it.

Since our interrupted moment on my couch we hadn’t talked about it, neither of us wanting to be the first to bring it up. We left it at that, just a moment of weakness between us both, Paige avoiding my gaze whenever she could. The blonde, however, had been growing uncharacteristically more frustrated ever since. Whether because of what happened between us or the game tomorrow, I wasn’t sure.

“So… When’s your dad coming?” I ask carefully, knowing she has been irritated all day. Matter of fact Arike and Lou had warned me about it earlier.

“Tonight, I’ll pick him up from the airport,” she mumbles and then groans, hitting the steering wheel like remembering something. “I was gonna clean before but I forgot.”

“Do you need help?”

“Nah.”

“Paige, I really don’t mind,” I insist, watching the hooper driving with practiced ease in her Nike sweats and a black t-shirt. “I kind of owe it to you since you took care of me…”

Paige’s blue eyes flicker from the road to me, back to the road, face turning red at the memory of us on the couch. Just as she’s about to answer, another song by The Weeknd begins to play.

“This fuckin’ playlist,” Paige groans, quickly skipping every song with any type of sexual implications. It was almost funny, really, the way she was behaving. She’s huffing, fumbling with her phone to change songs before throwing the device to me. “Just put on sumn Iz, please, I’m getting pissed off.”

“I can see that,” I chuckle, picking another list which seemingly is more chill. “Nervous about the game huh?”

“I dunno man,” she mumbles, rubbing her face and leaning back against the seat, jaw clenching. Truthfully, I felt just as frustrated, my mind spinning around how the girl felt on top of me. Everything she did felt so effortless, yet had me probably wetter than I had ever been in my life with such ease. The mere memory had been driving me mad, my own hand trying to relieve the ache between my thighs but with no such luck. Honestly the tension was driving me just as frustrated as Paige is. And God this stupid, overbearing heat, the way it had turned my skin sticky, making it hard to breathe. Paige rubs her own chest, as if feeling the exact same.

Even now, watching the blonde, her veiny hands on the wheel, arms glistening with sweat from the humidity, neck bobbing as she swallows heavily, blonde hair down and straight. all of it had that familiar ache grow between my legs again. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone this much.

I lick my lips and move my eyes to the road, beginning to feel flustered. The temptation of toying with the idea of going to bed with the blonde had been growing stronger and stronger, driving me up the wall. Maybe it was time for me to try on someone else. But I felt afraid, it had been years since I slept with anyone else but Jasper. Maybe this could be a good chance to see how it might make me feel? But then again Paige would need to understand that it has to be just sex. Nothing more. No attachment. 

Memories of her filthy words repeat in my head. I swear no one’s ever spoken to me like that before. No one had ever told me such dirty things. It was exhilarating, it had me soaked. 

The drive is quiet, Paige letting out frustrated huffs now and then and chewing on her lower lip.

“Will we still do the pregame interview for socials tomorrow?” I ask.

“Course,” she huffs with annoyance.

“Okay no reason to have an attitude with me now,” I answer, growing a little annoyed or perhaps frustrated too.

She pulls up to our building’s parking lot, exhaling loudly. “You right,” she mumbles and turns to me, face softening exponentially. Paige reaches over, taking both my hands into hers. It’s enough to make my stomach flip. “You right Iz, I’m sorry. Ion wanna be like that with you I just… It’s this damn heat and everything.”

Our eyes lock, and I consider leaning over the center console and kissing her. But I wasn’t brave enough. Not yet, at least.

“It’s okay Paige,” I hum. Slightly hesitantly, the blonde brings my hands up to her mouth and presses a soft kiss to both of them, eyes fluttering shut. I feel the familiar blush build on my cheeks as I watch her, jolts running through my body. No, I’m done being scared. I need her now.

“Can I come over to yours please?” I ask as politely as I can, though the look in my eyes lets Paige know exactly what’s on my mind. I swear I’ve never seen her nod so quickly, barely letting my words sink in. She clumsily climbs out of the car, practically running to my side to open the door and helping me out. The blonde’s steps are hurried, long strides making it hard for me to keep up as we climb to her floor, a slight grin on my face as I watch the eagerness in which she was moving with. 

Paige’s hands scramble with the lock, the key shaking a little in her hand as she finally opens the door, allowing me in first. My stomach starts to twist, and there’s a burn spreading around my upper thighs as I take off my heels, suddenly significantly shorter than the blonde girl following on my tail.

I hear the door close and turn around, chest heaving much like Paige’s is as I watch her blue eyes roaming my body, the black pencil skirt and the body hugging maroon short-sleeved top, her gaze landing on my face, mouth already agape and breaths growing heavy. 

For a moment we just breathe, our eyes locked on each other, taking the moment in. The tension, the pent up frustration, the need we have for each other, until the blonde snaps and pushes me into the wall which feels cold against my warm back. Paige’s hands land on my waste as our lips crash into a messy, sloppy, needy kiss. A type of kiss I had never had before. It leaves me breathless, my arms wrapping around her shoulders, long fingers wrapping into her hair and pulling the girl closer. She moves her lips off mine, beginning to trail to my neck, hands on my waist travelling downwards to my ass, groaning as she feels it under her grip. 

“W-wait,” I gasp breathlessly, legs already beginning to shake. 

“Mhm,” Paige hums against my skin, lips never quitting working on my neck. 

“I- fuck,” I whimper. “I just need you to know that this has to be just sex.”

Without even thinking I feel the blonde nod, lips sucking right below my ear. “Okay, whatever you want Iz.”

I pull her away from my neck by her hair, meeting her eyes. “I’m serious. Just sex.”

Paige’s eyelids are heavy, the normally bright blue of her eyes turning dark with lust as she gazes down at me. “Izara, I mean it. Whatever you want me to be I’mma be okay?”

When those words leave the blonde’s mouth I nearly crumble to the ground. I can’t wait for a second longer, the wetness pooling between my legs enough proof of that.

“Take me to bed,” I tell the younger girl, who picks me up with ease as my legs wrap around her torso. She kisses me hungrily, our tongues meeting in a battle for dominance which the blonde soon wins as she places me down on her bed softly, my skirt now hiked up halfway up my thighs.

For a moment Paige stands above me, eyes roaming my body as she shakes her head in disbelief. “You’re so beautiful,” she mumbles, then climbs on top of me, her right hand hiking my skirt all the way up, revealing my lacy red panties. When Paige notices, she lets out a groan, practically drooling but working hard to pace herself.

“Take this off,” I murmur, yanking on Paige’s t-shirt.

“Yes ma’am,” she replies, pulling it over her head and onto the floor. I watch the way her muscles in her abdomen clench and I can’t help but drag my fingernails along it as she sits up on top of me, straddling me while I lie flat against the soft blanket.

“Fuck,” she moans hoarsely, throwing her head back, her hands inching underneath my top.

“Would you like it off?” I ask, chest heaving.

“Yes. Please.”

I pull the top off, the blonde’s fingertips leaving tingles as they drag over my ribs. Somehow I don’t feel nervous, all my anxious thoughts left the second I felt Paige on me again.

“Goddamn…” The girl sighs, her hand dragging to my matching lace bra and palming my round breast, making me whimper. I pull her down by the chain on her neck, kissing her feverishly, my underwear growing wetter with every passing moment, mind spinning with need. As I let out a whine, Paige gets the hint, her right hand dragging down my body to my bare thigh and squeezing. 

My back arches off the bed, another whine spilling from my lips but quickly silenced by the blonde’s kiss, her fingers trailing up my inner thigh torturously slowly.

“Paige,” I cry out.

“Tell me what you want?” Paige asks, her voice gravelly in a way I haven’t heard before.

“You to touch me,” I whimper, my brows furrowing with need. “Please.”

“So polite ma,” she grins, beginning to kiss my neck, inching downwards my body to my breasts. “I’mma take good care of you baby, don’ worry.”

My legs spread wider in anticipation as her lips trail downwards along my stomach. I can feel my head spinning, unable to accept that this is real and actually happening. That I would finally find relief to the awful ache inside me.

Faint giggles take me out of the moment, snapping me back to reality. I must’ve imagined - no wait, I can definitely hear giggles. “Paige,” I say.

“Mhm,” she hums, kissing along my inner thighs now.

“You hear that?”

“Hear what,” she mumbles against my skin, nuzzling it, her eyes finally opening when I sit up.

“Listen,” I complain, pushing her off by her forehead to make her pay attention.

“I hear nothin, just lie down and re-”

It’s clear. The sound coming from the front door. Paige’s front door, someone fumbling with the key in the keyhole, turning it and-

“What the fuck?” Paige asks, abruptly getting off me and hurrying to the door of her bedroom, peeking into the corridor in her sports bra and sweats. I get up too, pulling my skirt down, wanting to cry with frustration.

-

There they are. By my doorstep. KK, Ice, Azzi, Jana and Ash, holding balloons and banners and other decorations, giggling amongst each other.

“I- wh- KK? Ice? A- how did y’all get in?” I ask, eyes flickering between the girls and Izara in the bedroom, pulling her skirt down and throwing her top on frantically. 

“Why aren’t you at practice?”

“It ended early,” I say, my voice rising uncharacteristically as I attempt to steady my breathing from what almost just happened. How close I was to getting what I had been craving for weeks. I loved these girls but, God could I kill them right now. “How the hell do y’all got a key to my place??”

“Oh it’s your dad’s,” Azzi giggles. “We were gonna surprise you, he’s downstairs.”

Oh so not only my girls but my dad was gonna arrive at the scene. With a girl in my bedroom. I glance at Iz, who’s fixing her hair in the mirror, but she looks completely fucked out. And I bet I do too. I had no idea how to explain myself out of this one.

“Wh-” I start

“Yeah why aren’t you hugging us and shit? You forget all about us?” KK huffs.

I rub my face, letting out a heavy exhale when Izzie walks out of the bedroom into the eyeline of the group of girls. All their eyes widen, and I can’t ignore the shared looks between them. Quick, Paige, say something.

“Uhh, guys this is Iz- I mean, Zari, she uh, was over to uh…” I scratch the back of my neck, KK already covering her mouth trying not to laugh.

“I just needed to borrow…” Izzie’s eyes scan the room. “Paige’s lamp! Mine broke, so. Couldn’t see to read my book.” Her face is bright red, the usual composure with which she presented herself completely gone. I almost groan at the excuse but realise that would just make the situation seem a million times worse.

“Yes! She was! Uh let me get it for you,” I mumble, about to walk into the bedroom to actually grab a lamp for the girl.

“No no! You say hi to your friends, I can do it myself!”

I wanna bury my face into my hands and go back into the bedroom and lock the door and never come out. All the girls are staring with amused faces, hands holding balloons and flyers and little decorations in preparation for my first game tomorrow, clearly suspicious of us two. Just when I think it can’t get worse, my dad - yes my dad - walks in.

“Why are you girls all- Oh hi, don’t you have practice?” He asks, holding a cake.

I rub the bridge of my nose, not sure whether to laugh or cry at this point.

“Got home early,” I sigh, too flustered to even enjoy the fact that my best friends and my dad were here to see me.

“This girl here is borrowing a lamp,” KK mumbles under her breath to my dad, trying to hold in her snickers. What a stupid excuse. I thought Izzie was supposed to be smart. Borrowing a lamp, what kinda excuse was that?

My dad’s eyes land on Izzie, flickering between me and her and the awkwardly large distance between us as if that might help us look less suspicious. Though based on the small grin on my dad’s face, I can tell it’s doing the exact opposite.

“I’m Bob, Paige’s dad,” my dad slides inside through the girls who are eyeing the situation with amused expressions, shaking hands with Iz like I wasn’t just between her legs ready to do something unimaginable.

“Hey, I’m Izara. I’m a friend of your daughter’s.”

“Izara huh?” He turns to me with a sly grin, something I’d inherited. “You haven’t mentioned an Izara?”

“She prefers Zari,” I correct, trying to avoid his eye. “She does media for the Wings.”

For a moment everyone’s quiet, multiple pairs of eyes staring at me, then Zari, then me again. The silence lingers, bordering on uncomfortable when to everyone’s relief KK speaks.

“Bro we don’t even get a hug or nothing?”

-

She’s there, sitting on my couch, in between Ice and Azzi and laughing that sweet giggle of hers. She looks comfortable, already gaining the approval of my friends with ease. We’re sitting in a circle around the coffee table eating pizza, easy conversation flowing between everyone. But all I could pay attention to was the brunette girl, how easily she fit in, how she had already charmed the hell out of my dad. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, the way her eyes sparkle when she laughs at my friends’ stupid jokes, or the coy smile on her perfect lips when my dad asks her a question. I needed her, badly, even more than before if possible. 

“Excuse me, I need some water,” Izara catches my eye and excuses herself to the kitchen. Without a word I get up, following on her trail like a puppy. I know everyone notices us leaving, but I don’t care. I wanted to take every second to be with her, to touch her, to have her to myself.

“Hey,” I mumble, leaning against the doorframe and watching as she looks through my cupboards for glasses.

“Hey,” she hums with a smile. I walk to the girl, pressing my front into her back as I reach for a glass in the cupboard above us.

“Oh, thank you,” Izzie says, her voice shaky as my hand lands on her waist. The girls’ voices are loud but distant, echoing around the sparsely furnished living room. So in a moment of weakness I allow my head to tilt down into the crook of Izara’s neck, inhaling the fruity, gentle jasmine scent of her perfume, nuzzling my nose against her goosebump forming skin. I feel her shift, the curve of her ass pressing against me as I allow my lips to press soft kisses onto her golden skin.

The dark haired girl lets out a shaky breath and the sound drives me wild, it taking every drop of my self discipline not to make everyone leave just so I could have my way with her, just to make her feel good. Izzie’s head tilts back, resting against my chest as I bite on her shoulder, my lips gliding and leaving sloppy kisses on her neck.

“Paige,” she whispers chuckling, clearly torn between asking me to stop and asking for more.

“You’re fucking killing me,” I murmur into her ear, my voice hoarse and trembling with need. 

The girl turns around, her green, emerald eyes wider than usual looking up at me as her hand moves onto my chest. I let my fingertips slide underneath the hem of her shirt, feeling the soft skin there. “We’ll have time. Later,” she comforts me softly, but it’s not enough.

I throw my head back in frustration and groan, like a child not getting their way.

“Izzie I’m so forreal, I need to have you before the game tomorrow or I’mma be so out of it.”

The girl giggles, shaking her head, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Come over in the morning?”

“I gotta leave at 10. Needa take my time with you.”

Izzie chuckles. “Okay, 8:30?”

“8:00,” I argue, though no amount of time would be enough.

“Do you need two hours?” The girl laughs but I shake my head, trying to stifle the grin on my face.

“Ion need more than five minutes ma, trust,” my words make Izzie’s cheeks turn a shade of red. “But need to take my time. Wanna do it just right.”

Izara might be poised and have a great poker face, but I can tell she needs it as bad as I do. It’s in the way her chest is heaving, the way her pupils are wide and the way her mouth is parted. So I lean in, my lips hovering over her ear.

“Gonna eat that pussy so good ma, gonna have you crying-”

“Yooo…”

I pull away urgently, helped by the fact that Izzie practically pushes me off her, both our heads turning to KK standing in the doorway, trying not to laugh.

“Uhh, I’mma be back,” she says turning around but I grab the shorter girl by the arm and pull her back in.

“Whatchu need?”

Izzie is blushing, trying to hide the smile growing onto her face by holding her hand over her mouth and staring at the wall.

“A tissue, I dropped some food,” KK says.

I gasp. “Bro not on the rug right?”

KK scoffs, grabbing the tissue from me. “Dallas changed you already ‘cause why you care about a rug more than me?”

-

Paige

Yo I’m so sorry I gotta head in early

That’s okay Paige, good luck. I’ll see you before the game, yeah?

I reread the texts on my screen that I never got an answer to. I’m not worried, she’s probably nervous. Or busy. But it’s so… unlike her. Paige was usually the one to message me back the moment I texted her. I was probably overthinking. I hated how I got when I liked someone. Not that I liked Paige. I wanted her badly. But there were no feelings involved and there surely could never be. I wasn’t even close to being ready.

Despite all that I could feel an uncomfortable twist somewhere deep in my stomach watching the way the blonde girl had left me on read. Like I always did when I began to get feelings. I was painfully aware of how scary it was, those feelings stirring within me again. I just had to keep them in control. I know how these things end. I know Paige seems amazing right now - unreal almost. But it was just an illusion. Soon she’d be bored of me, leaving me in tears, crying myself to sleep at 3am. That’s how it always ended up. I promised myself I’d never be that girl again.

-

“Jasper, please, could we just sit down and communicate?”

My voice is steady, gentle, like it had to be when he was in one of these moods. I sit on the couch, watching as he paces around me, trying not to blow up. I try to make myself small, breathe quiet, not look him in the eye, anything that might set him off. Once Jasper was set off there was nothing to do. I knew that better than anyone.

“Here we go again,” he groans, throwing his head back in frustration. A bitter, sarcastic laugh escapes his mouth.

“No, not like that, please. I swear I just want to talk-”

“No Izara you want to bitch about my drinking again. You’re behaving like a controlling bitch-”

There’s a pang of pain in my chest, the tears I’ve been swallowing making themselves known as my eyes grow wet.

“Please, Jasper, I’ve asked you before not to call me that,” I plead, my voice still soft but growing weaker.

The man rolls his eyes at the sight of me. “Wow, here we go again. Poor Zari, always perfect, always the victim.”

“I never said I was perfect, far from it! I’m just asking you to not call me a bitch,” I debate, my voice rising in response to feeling defensive.

“I didn’t even say you were a bitch! I said you’re behaving like one!” His voice is harsh, cutting through the air and ringing my ear painfully. Familiarly. This was a discussion we’d had about 15 times before. And it always went the same. I don’t even know why I was still trying. 

“God, you’re so manipulative, trying to put words into my mouth,” he murmurs under his breath. He’d said those words so many times part of me had started to think he might be right. Maybe I am manipulative. Maybe I need to just let him be. I’m being dramatic and his drinking wasn’t an issue. Jasper never physically hurt me or hit me. It could be so much worse. Words can only do so much.

I feel the tears spill over finally, dripping down my cheeks. As Jasper notices he lets out a laugh, shaking his head. “What, you’re crying now? Like you’re the victim here?”

“Jasper, please, I’m tired,” I cry, my voice shaky as I bury my face into my hands. “Can we just forget this and go to sleep? I’ve got that important meeting tomorrow.”

“Well probably should’ve thought of that before, huh? Before starting all this drama for nothing!”

“I just wished you wouldn’t have been so drunk tonight! I was having a hard day, I needed you with me!” I finally snap, yelling back. I never yell, but sometimes with Jasper it felt like it was the only way for him to hear me. Even though I always hated myself afterwards.

“So what? I’m a bad boyfriend? Worst boyfriend in the world?”

“No, that’s not what I said-”

“Fine, if I’m so bad I’ll leave,” Jasper simply says. walking to the entryway, grabbing his coat off the coat rack. Urgently, I get up and run after him, panic spreading all over me. He knew this triggered me. He did this every time he was about to “lose” one of our fights. Because it hurt me the most.

“Wait, wait wait wait,” I cry, my voice weak and trembling as I grab his arm. “Please no, don’t go, please, Jasper, please.”

He ignores me, pulling his arm out of my reach and looking for his keys.

“Jasper,” I sob, legs too shaky to hold me up anymore. I fall to my knees, trying not to throw up all over the man. “Jasper, please. I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m too hard on you. You’re so wonderful to me. I love you okay, I love you. I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me.”

The man finally turns, looking down at me and shaking his head as my wide eyes blink up at him. With a deep sigh, he puts down his keys and lifts me up from the ground.

“Are you done?” He asks, voice frustrated and tired.

I nod, tears still spilling from my eyes. “I’m sorry, please don’t go. Please.”

“I won’t Izara, but these fits of yours need to end,” Jasper says as his comforting, familiar arms wrap around me.

“You’re right, Jasper. It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

-

My cab finally pulls up to College Park Center, and I quickly slide in through the side door, making my way through the confusing corridors with practiced ease now. I wanted to find the blonde girl, just to make sure she was okay. Just to see her before the game. I check the gym, the weight room, the dining hall but see no sign of her. Finally, as a last resort, I knock on the door of the dressing room, shifting on my feet and smoothing over my black mini skirt and the red sweater hanging off my right shoulder nervously. At last the door opens, Lou peeking her head out with a smile.

“Oh hey.”

“Hey Lou, happy game day!” I greet her, trying to not make it obvious I was looking for someone. Like I was just casually there to wish the girls good luck.

“Thanks Zari, big day,” the girl smiles, looking at me expectantly.

“Oh, uh, is um, is-”

“Paige is here, you need her?” I don’t miss the grin on the brunette’s face, the knowing look she has in her eyes. Thought I had been hiding it better with Paige, apparently not.

“Yes, actually I do,” I chuckle awkwardly, clasping my hands in front of me, acrylics scratching against my skin. My heart races as I wait, my stomach turning at the idea of seeing her. Seeing Paige.

Soon the blonde girl arrives at the door, but the familiar wide smile isn't there. Her eyes look red, tired, the skin darker than usual underneath, mouth in a straight line. 

“Paige, are you okay?” I ask, taken back by her appearance.

She looks at me for a while, blue eyes landing on mine, big hand rubbing her jaw. “I’m alright.”

I can tell that she’s not. 

“Paige,” I repeat, looking at her challengingly. The blond sighs and shrugs and it’s then I notice the shaking of her hands. Uncontrollable, clearly visible. “Whoa, what’s going on darling?”

She looks back into the changing room before stepping out, shaky hand rubbing her eyes. I don’t miss the slight tremble of her lower lip, the way her blue eyes grow glossy.

“Whoa, hold on love,” I coo, grabbing a hold of her hand and pulling her into a new corridor, opening the door to the often empty media team office to find it desolate of people once more. “Come on.”

I close the door behind us and watch closely as the blonde plots herself down on the couch, chest heaving fast. 

“Paige, talk to me,” I comfort her, following behind and sitting next to her. As the blonde lifts her blue eyes off the floor, I see she’s tearing up avoiding my gaze.

“I’m so fucking scared Iz,” she admits, lower lip quivering. My heart fills with affection, and instinctively I wrap my arms around her broad, bare shoulders in her sports bra. 

“Of what?”

“Of screwing up, everyone got crazy expectations. Everyone gonna be watching,” Paige sighs, sniffling weakly. I had never seen her like this, in my head she wasn’t afraid of anything. Guess I was wrong.

“Paige,” I begin, pulling back and grabbing hold of her warm hands. “It’s a big moment, it’s okay to be nervous, to be scared even. But you’re not gonna fail. The only expectations that matter are the ones you put on yourself.”

“I don’t know, I love my girls y’know but fuck I don’t need em here today,” she sighs, wiping a tear from her left cheek. I let my thumb help her a little, brushing against her soft skin. 

“They wanted to surprise you, they love you very much, you know?”

“I know,” Paige murmurs, her thumbs rubbing the skin of my palms. “But I just needed to focus on myself today. I dunno, just feel really fucking overwhelmed.”

“Hey,” I stop her, chasing her gaze. The blonde’s blue eyes meet mine, finally softening. “You’re going to go out there, and you’re going to pretend it’s just you and your team at practice. No audience today, no one you know watching. Just you. And whether you get none of your shots in or all of them, it’s okay. And you get to try again. You’re just dipping your toes in okay? This isn't the defining moment of your career. It’s just one of many.”

Paige listens and takes every word in, processing as her eyes remain locked in mine. Finally her brows soften and she lets out a final, relieved breath. 

“My dad really liked you, talked about you all night after you left.”

“Really?” I grin, making the blonde nod with a smile. 

“My friends too, they wanna get to know you better,” Paige adds. I feel a slight panic in my chest for a moment, the fear of what Paige might’ve said to her friends about us. After all, we had agreed to be just friends despite everything. I hope she didn’t have the wrong idea that I might change my mind.

“Wish I had time to come see you this morning.”

I feel my cheeks heat up immediately. “Yeah?”

She nods, a small grin growing on her face. “Yeah, wouldn’t be feeling so tense.”

I chuckle as her hands let go of mine, landing on the back of my head and pulling me into a sweet, caring kiss that takes me by surprise. But I can’t bear to pull away, nor do I want to. So for a moment we kiss, our lips moving together sending jolts all over my body as the blonde’s hand lowers to my waist and pulls me closer to her. Without a thought my body obeys, skirt hiking up as she pulls me on top of her to straddle her.

Both of our breathing grows heavier as the kiss turns more urgent, Paige exhaling loud through her nose as her hand finds the soft skin of my bare upper thigh, grabbing it needily making me wince. I could feel my arousal pooling between my legs once more, the blonde’s hand sliding upwards until her thumb meets the sheer fabric of my panties, pressing against my clit. We both let out a quiet, desperate whimper, me from the contact, her from how wet I already was. 

This wasn’t sensible, anyone could walk in. Paige’s first ever game in the league would start in only a few hours and she had just been crying from feeling so overwhelmed. But both of us had forgotten, too consumed by the lust that had been eating us alive. I needed her. She needed me.

Paige pulls away from the kiss, long eyelashes blinking at me and pink lips slightly parted. She looked beautiful, like she was already completely out of it. 

“Need to feel you ma, please let me,” she whines, looking for any sign of approval on my face. “Need to feel this pussy around my fingers.”

No one had ever spoken in such a filthy way to me before. And it drove me crazy. The sheer dirtiness of the things Paige said, the way her voice turned hoarse and whiny, the way she really, truly behaved like she would die unless she got to fuck me. I had never experienced it before. Everything about it intoxicated me, my soaked panties prove of how much so.

“Paige, are you sure this is smart?” I ask, my voice weak and shaky.

“Ion care about smart, need to fuck you before my big game,” the blonde murmurs, beginning to kiss my neck, fingertips rubbing gentle circles on my clit against the fabric. “Please mama, need to make you cum, that’s all I want.”

I let out another whimper, her words winning me over.

“C’mon ma, can feel how wet you are for me. Lemme help baby, lemme take care of you.”

Finally I snap, desperately nodding. Without missing a beat, Paige’s fingers hook around the edge of my panties, pulling them to the side as I stay straddling her, feeling the cool air on my dripping cunt.

“This ain’t right. I gotta see that shit,” Paige murmurs and before I understand what she means, she’s pushing me back, my spine hitting the couch as she remains still, my thighs spread wide for her as she sits in between.

Paige’s blue eyes are nearly blown out black with lust as her gaze travels slowly from my flushed face, to my heaving chest, down my stomach, all the way to the panties slid to the side, finally landing on my core. I swear I have never seen the girl so dazed, like everything around her disappeared, her lips parting further, tongue darting out to lick them.

“Fuck,” she whispers, fingers spreading my lips apart to see my wetness glistening in the lighting of the office. To see my folds and the way I was already throbbing for her. I had never been looked at like that before, yet didn’t feel shy or unsure. Because I could tell Paige was in absolute awe.

“So fucking pretty, huh?” The blonde asks, finger carefully brushing up and down against my folds and clit, making my whole body shiver. She was barely touching me yet I couldn’t fight the whine spilling from my lips. This was so unlike me, spread out in overhead lighting in a room anyone could walk into at any moment with a girl I hadn’t even been out on a date with. But it was the last thing I cared about. I needed Paige Bueckers to fuck me now.

“Paige, fuck me,” I demand, my voice breathy and brows furrowed as I watch her.

A sly grin forms on her lips as she gathers wetness through my folds with ease, beginning to circle my clit lazily. The sound is obscene, caused by how slick I had grown for her in the past few minutes. I moan softly, covering my own mouth and letting my eyes fall closed.

“What do you need? Tell me baby,” Paige coos, but she knows. She can see the way my pussy is clenching around nothing, crying for her, begging to be filled. 

“Baby,” I whimper, bucking my hips but the blonde’s free hand brings me down by my thigh.

“Use your words ma.”

“Inside,” I whisper, cheeks growing redder at having to tell the girl with words what I needed from her.

“Yeah? You need my fingers inside your pussy?”

I nod, the words making my arousal grow even more.

“Please,” I add, hoping to hurry the blonde along.

Suddenly, Paige’s fingers slide downwards towards my entrance, circling before two of them begin to break into me, painfully slowly. A loud gasp threatens to spill from my lips but the blonde covers my mouth quickly, her fingers sliding into me all the way. 

It’s impossible to describe how good it feels, to feel her touch me like this. The stretch of her fingers making my body tense and relax simultaneously. I was in heaven, surely sex never felt like this before. Only with her.

“Oh fuck you’re so tight,” Paige hisses, beginning to curl her fingers against me. The sound of squelching quickly takes over, only joined with both our moans. My back arches desperately, and I feel myself writhing for more, for the blonde to move faster.

It’s in the moment I’m about to start begging for more, the familiar sound of a keycard being slid against the reader takes over. Someone’s about to open the door. Both of us panic, Paige pulling her fingers away and quickly getting up from the couch as I struggle to get off my back, pulling my skirt down eagerly right as Trey walks in.

“Oh hey!” He smiles widely, oblivious to the heavy breathing me and Paige are both trying to get under control. “Oh Paige! Whatchu doing here?”

“Uh,” she murmurs, fingers still glistening with me before she wipes them on her thigh. “We uh,”

“We were planning that pregame interview! Should we film it soon?” I quickly interrupt, noticing Paige’s flustered expression. The shake in my legs is obvious, so I lean against the wall next to me.

“Yeah yeah, the interview,” the blonde murmurs which makes Trey’s brown eyes light up.

“Well great! Why don’t you go change and we film after.”

Paige glances at me as I do her, both of us trying to ignore the tension in the room that the man seemed to not recognise.

“Uhh yeah, lemme go do that,” the taller girl mumbles and leaves, my heart pounding faster than ever from earlier. As she closes the door, Trey turns to me.

“By the way Zari, we shouldn’t let anyone back here that isn’t part of the team, okay? Linda would freak.”

“Oh,” I say, brushing my hand through my hair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Trey looks at me for a while, leaning back against the desk behind him.

“You know, it’s okay to be friends with players but I think it’s better to keep things at a professional distance. Don’t wanna be getting too close, you know what I mean?”

I can tell he’s digging for something, trying to get me to fess up. Instead I cross my arms over my chest and nod. “Agreed, shall we prepare the interview?”

-

“Okay, Paige, stand here.”

Trey is maneuvering the blonde around, trying to find the best lighting as I check my notes over and over, my mind still swirling with all the interrupted moments that are growing tiresome. Paige is fiddling with her hands, staring at anything but me feeling just as frustrated by the interruption.

“Ahh, got it. Zari, would you.”

“Yes,” I murmur and step next to the blonde, a slight awkward distance between us. Every cell in me was itching to get closer, to press into her. I was dying for her. But it wasn’t the time. I had to focus on work. It was just hard to look away from her. That’s it.

“Closer Zari,” Trey chuckles, reaching for my shoulder and pushing me closer to Paige. We exchange an awkward, slightly giddy smile and I can tell the girl is beginning to blush, our shoulders pressing together. The blonde gazes upwards towards the low ceilings of the corridor, trying to kill the smile growing on her face.

“Okay, we good?” Trey asks, and I let out a soft giggle. Paige looks at me and giggles too, confusing the man behind the camera. “Something wrong?”

“No, no, we’re good,” I giggle, looking to the floor. The blonde nods in agreement, licking her lips to stifle the grin.

“Whenever you’re ready ladies,” Trey says, pressing record.

I take a deep breath, turning my eyes to the blue ones beside me. The ones I could get lost in forever. But now wasn’t the time. Not the time Izara. Work.

“I am here with our dear rookie, Paige,” I smile, licking my lower lip and looking away from the blonde, her intense gaze becoming too much. “First game today, how are we feeling?”

Paige kisses her teeth and sighs. “Oh man,” she starts, blue eyes boring into the side of my face. “It feels surreal, I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life and now it’s finally here. Feelin’ really blessed and fortunate for sure. Playing my first against the Lynx just feels right, you know.”

I watch as her lips move, the way the edges of them curve when she speaks, barely registering the words coming out from how badly I needed her. 

“Favourite thing about Dallas so far?” I ask, crossing my arms and smiling up at the blonde. Her blue eyes are sparkling, a slight glimmer in them as she watches me with a smirk. As if the camera wasn’t filming every moment.

“Oh definitely the ribs,” Paige grins, suddenly interrupted by Arike standing at the other end of the corridor.

“Yooo, bro what?!” 

Me and Paige both begin to laugh, leaning into each other as we do. My hand instinctively graces her forearm as Trey pangs the camera to Arike.

“Alright, alright. And Arike,” Paige chuckles, making me scoff.

“Oy!” I shout, slapping her arm playfully.

“And you!” She grins, raising her hands in defeat. I can’t help the blush covering my face or the stupid smile stretching across.

“As I should be,” I joke, taking a deep breath and trying to remind myself of the planned questions and of Trey’s watchful eyes. It felt impossible under Paige’s gaze so intensely roaming my face, eye fucking me.

“You’ve got some friends and family in the audience tonight, who are you most excited to see you play tonight?”

The blonde looks at me for a meaningful moment, and I don’t miss what she wants to say. What she’s trying to express with her eyes. What she can’t admit in front of Trey.

“Uhh,” she blinks stupidly, finally breaking eye contact. “Probably my dad, yeah. But I’m excited to play for all the Wings fans too, needa impress them.”

“I’m sure you will,” I smile, my tone clearly flirty yet I don’t even recognise the fact. “Happy game day!!”

“Happy game day,” Paige echoes my words, wrapping an arm around my shoulder just as Trey puts the camera down. Yet the man keeps staring over at the two of us, studying every move, every exchanged look.

“Paige! Go change and let’s start warming up, c’mon!” Chris nods the blonde towards the lockers. I see her eyes turn to me once more, softening. 

“Wish me luck ma,” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me into a hug. I let her.

“Good luck Paige,” I mumble into her eyes, letting go and watching as she walks into the dressing room, leaving me alone with Trey. I could feel nerves bubbling in my stomach, heart beginning to pound in anticipation for the game. The man watches me for a while, deep in thought.

“Zari…. I gotta ask you something,” the man starts, his voice echoing in the corridor. He walks us to our office letting me know this wasn’t going to be a light subject, which made me nervous.

I sit on the desk, my legs hanging off as I cross them and watch the brunette pace around the room for a moment before turning to me. 

“Is there something going on with you and Paige?”

Fuck.

I think about lying, looking through my brain for any cover up story. There isn’t one. I was a horrible liar anyway. So I just sigh, looking down before nodding.

“Yeah, I didn’t mean for there to be but I like her. She likes me,” I admit, carefully looking at the man. “Look, it’s nothing though. Nothing serious, just fun.”

“For fucks sake Zari,” Trey sighs, rubbing his forehead.

“Excuse me?” I ask offended. Sure, it wasn’t great, but he was hugely overreacting.

Trey walks over to me and grabs a hold of my hands, stopping much too close to my liking.

“Zari, Linda is very… strict. You know this. But she does not allow anything like this, she must’ve told you? She gave me this big speech too when I came in.”

I blink at him, my lips parting a little. It wasn’t allowed. That’s it. That simple.

“Wh- no she never said,” I murmur. Trey nods, letting out a sigh.

“Zari you have to end it. You could get fired.”

My heart drops, mind starts spinning. I could get fired. Have to go back to the UK. Just like that. Fired. Just because I didn’t have the self-discipline to resist Paige.

“Trey, you’re not going to-”

He shakes his head. “No, of course not. Linda won’t know. But only if you end it now, okay? If she finds out I know I could get in trouble too.”

I look at the walls, covered in pictures of the entire Dallas Wings overtime, faces changing and some persisting year after year. I finally land on this year’s picture, on the blonde standing on the right side, smiling that familiar, wide, charming smile. It didn’t matter how much I liked her, how badly I needed her on me. None of it would matter if I got fired, if I got my visa revoked. I couldn’t do this dance we’d been playing the past month anymore. I had to end it.

-

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

[vifilms]

THEY CALL ME HOMEWRECKER

pairing. established!cait x reader ft. older!vi

content warning. eighteen+, some freaky toxic shit, caitlyn lowkey a bad girlfriend, reader a freak, and violet’s just there for a good time, ooc!vi mostly, strap!sex, threesome, jealousy, cheating, some good ‘ole drama, public!sex, slight voyeurism if you squint.

#thank u to my boo @sinstear for helping me facilitate this madness and giving me even more ideas for it. and for @shouyuus for always supporting my gay panicking. still crying about it. as always, eighteen+.

since the two of you were struggling financially, you’ve always stuck by caitlyn’s side. throughout all of her business endeavors, one finally stuck, the restaurant on avenue street, and god is it ever so booming. weeks of hectic hours turn into months of hardly seeing her due to her schedule always being on the flipside of hers.

all of it was so excruciating.

over the past few months, the cracks of your relationship fall over like a tsunami waves, crashing repeatedly into the shore. you try to talk about it with her — the two days out of the week when you actually see her — but she’s always too tired.

too this.

too that.

nothing you do is ever enough. it doesn’t matter if you set the mood just right, candles light with rose petals on the bed, buying a new lingerie set to attempt to peak your girlfriend’s interest.

“baby, it’s been months since we’ve had sex? do you just not want me anymore? caitlyn reassure you she does but makes no move to give you the relief you’re so desperately seeking. deadly kisses turn stale in your mouth, the bitterness of her stagnant need tastes like the dark chocolate on your tongue.

“just—“ caitlyn grunts as she gently shoves you off as her back turn away from you “not tonight.”

you’re so close to cry, to calling this relationship for what is, a colossal failure. deciding to cool down before offering her the proposition, the one you’ve been thinking about for a while now. no matter what you do, you love cait too much to call it quits. you have to fight for who you love, no matter the cost. this is the only choice you can make…right?

droplets kiss your skin, an oversized shirt hits your thighs as your feet pad away from the cool tile, the dampness of your hair touches the cotton as she looks at you, exhaustion written all over her gorgeous face.

“what if we opened this up? let someone…in.”

shyly, you mumble. and you expect some lewd response, anger, a finality to the end but you’re met with relief. “i think that’s a great idea, love.”

but caitlyn would live to regret those words. “just one night with someone else.”

the both of you agree.

all of it happened organically, that’s what you were her for. caitlyn was close and made sure not to hover. the stipulation being the two of you had to be attracted to whoever came home with the two of you. it’s when you spot her, checking you out from the other side of the bar.

“hi, cupcake.” her voice is sultry but her rasp velvet smooth.

“o-oh, u-um, hi—” you readjust shirt, the swell of your breasts threatening to spill from the tight top you’re wearing. she’s the hottest woman you’ve ever seen. soft lines on her face to resemble her age, but fuck, she’s so pretty.

powder-blue eyes resembling the sky as she checks you out from head to toe, unable to keep her eyes off of you. she can’t stop looking at you as you squirm underneath her blunt gaze.

“who’s the blue haired woman behind you? girlfriend? she looks like she wants to kill me for getting so close to you.” with a fierce sense of confidence running through her veins, she plays with the pretty silver chain hanging from your neck.

“she is my girlfriend but we have an understanding.” the nerves from your initial impression of her dissipate, as you step closer to her. “we’re on the hunt for someone to fuck our brains out, especially mine it’s been a little too long.”

"how long?"

the curoisty slips out before she can help herself, eyes falling back on your tits again again as you cross your arms over your chest, tongue running over your lips as the tattoo peeking out from her the underside of her neck.

“long enough.”

but caitlyn interjects, slithering her way as she immediately starts caressing the mystery woman’s forearm. it’s difficult to pretend there isn’t a sting in your chest when she so easily touches someone else without a second thought.

it isn’t fair, that’s all you’ve wanted, an ounce of her affection but it seems it just takes a certain kind of woman to get her going. on that doesn’t love her the way you do, one that’s hotter, sexier, and definitely has more experience than you.

caitlyn is all over her, all night. vi, as you’ve come to learn, is much older than you and cait, more successful than you could ever dream of, and she damn sure knows how to sweet talk. you can’t help but feel a little left out as you sip on your martini, courtesy of vi.

excusing yourself to freshen up, not that you believe either of them would notice, you wash your hands, splash some water on your cold face to calm yourself. it’s crystal clear, she always wanted to have sex, just never with you.

there she stands, proud and tall, with hope in her eyes like she’s found the missing piece of her puzzle. “so, she’s perfect, right? i mean we really hit it off. the both of us, right?”

you nod, “yeah, sounds perfect, cait.” but she’s too fucking horny too nice the clip to her name or the bitterness in your tone. she’ll have her fill and you’ll be stuck on the sidelines, again. she’ll do anything but acknowledge this relationship for the farce it is.

you should have known, all the signs right in front of you to see, and now it all it took a pink-haired goddess to show you the light. she’ll get her pussy wet for anyone who isn’t you.

“great! i’ll tell her. i’m so glad we decided to do this, love.”

love.

the irony of her burning affection nearly causes you to throw up.

still, you’re incessantly scrubbing at your hands, the skin feels raw, the top of your fingers wrinkling like prunes. the last thing you want to do is meet them out there. the gorgeously, very-fuckable stranger who your girlfriend can’t get enough of. you should have just done the right thing, put the relationship to bed along with the rest of your dignity. now you’d have to watch who you thought was the love of your life, get off right in front of you.

then she’s here. vi. with her beautiful face, her cologne that smells of vanilla and mahogany, her perfectly fit body, making you feel more insecure than you’ve ever been.

“you alright, princess? if you have second thoughts just say the word…”

“nope.”

with a violent urgency, you keep scrubbing the soap into your absolutely clean hands, bending over the counter slightly to rinse them when you feel her behind you, gripping at your hips. she reaches over to shut the water off, handing you a few paper towels to dry your hands.

what the fuck is she playing at? why isn’t she sucking caitlyn’s face off?

“i have something else in mind—” vi leans over as her hot breath kisses your ear, “and it has to do with this pretty, little skirt on the floor.”

“oh, vi, we should really go and meet caitlyn, she—” but you can’t talk, not when she starts stroking the silky skin of your thigh, pushing the hem of your skirt up just a hair.

“you sure about that?” vi crawls her playful hand underneath the hem, playing with the panties covering your cunt, teasing your slit through the delicate lace. “i had my eyes set on something i want to try first.”

“o-oh…kay, well, it’s really not the best idea. please, can we—"

“so you really want to princess? something tells me, you’re dying to have this pussy eaten, fucked….stretched. i have a perfect hot pink cock for you to get fucked with, a mouth to please you, and a good set of fingers for you to bounce on.”

before you realize what’s she’s doing, her heavenly hands dip inside your panties, splitting your folds like the red sea; as god intended. she groans in your ear when she not only feels, but hears how soaked you’ve become, hot breath setting your body aflame.

“how does that sound, princess? want me to take care of you?” you grind against her pelvis, back arching into her as she slips a lone finger inside you. you moan so high, it nearly sounds like a scream.

“mmm, shit, ahhh, that’s—”

becoming very aware of the public setting, anyone could walk in the door at any given moment, you try to refute but you’re struggling to find the words, as she curls her finger inside you, establishing a steady pace.

“what? don’t think of caitlyn now. she certainly didn’t care before, did she? let me guess…she left you and your vibrator to your own device, pressing on that pretty clit of yours, hoping she’d jump in but she couldn’t.

“she couldn’t do what needs to be done—” vi bites and sucks at your neck, you crane your body towards her in submission, giving the older woman all the access she needs to tear you apart. “but i can give you whatever you fucking want, princess.”

it doesn’t take anything else before you’re attacking the older woman with your lips, her tongue invades your mouth as she surges for dominance, gripping your plump cheeks through the small amount of fabric covering them.

immediately intertwining your finger through her hair as you tug on her roots, as your skirt rides up against almost rising completely as vi pushes you through the first open stall she sees. not giving one flying fuck who hears her.

“needed you first, you know that? couldn’t help myself as soon as i saw you. god, just you wait until tonight.”

you shake your head as she pushes the your skirt to your hip bones, ripping your panties off with one single rip!

“tonight?”

“yes, pretty girl, tonight. m’gonna make her watch while i fuck you on my cock.”

pressing her knee with force in-between your legs, an animalistic moan tumbles out before you could even stop yourself.

“c’mon, ride my thigh, sweet girl. that’s what you want, hm?”

vi’s strength centers you in like gravity, allowing you to slide further up her trousers, your folds fluttering against the friction, allowing the crease of her perfectly-ironed slacks to push against your soaking pussy.

“god, fuck her for not wanting to fuck you. i’ll fuck you all night if you let me.” vi grunts as she watches your body writhe, tits bouncing as chase your high.

“fuuuckkkkk,” you hiccup, so close as she pushes a thumb in your mouth, effectively shutting your mouth for a moment as you suck on the digit. swirling your tongue around her finger, pretending she’s fucking you with a strap instead.

“such a good girl for me.” pulling off with a delectable pop, she presses against your clit, blissful patterns being traced on your bundle of nerves and just with a few strokes you’re done for. falling fast and hard.

“vi, vi, oh fuck, baby, viiii—” a drawl of her name as she abuses the bundle of nerves, the ache for her full attention and freely does vi give it.

you fall into her chest, whimpering as her incessant need to play with your clit does nothing to help you calm down — all she does is rile you up.

fuck, caitlyn.

not a day in your life had you thought of being interested in someone so much older than you, but god you’d never come apart like that. not so quickly and not ever quite as hard. she knew what you liked without uttering a word.

the swipe of her thumb felt like a stroke of god, as if she was one, giving into your mundane pleasure, helping you close in on what seemed like an impossible finish.

this wasn’t part of the deal. shit, you’re so fucked.

“turn around.” you obey.

a pathetic servant willing to get it’s pay.

she slaps your ass once more, a whimper tumbles and vi eats up every second of it.

“how bad do you want my cock, baby?”

“so bad, please.”

“good. you’ll show me…in front of her.”

—

“just like that princess, fuck, you’re so goddamn pretty.”

violet’s hands steady your hips as you ride cait’s cock, the strap stretching you out to the heavens, vi guides you in perfect rhythm. you know you should feel bad, but you can’t stop staring at vi, her perfect eyes gleaming as you moan out her name.

not cait, vi.

“love—” caitlyn’s voice is drown outed when vi is looking at you the way she’s does, the way you’ve been begging your girlfriend too but she only does when there’s someone else giving you what you’ve been desperately craving.

“how does it feel, cupcake?” vi whispers in your ear, “does it feel good when you fuck yourself on her cock?”

without warning, vi slaps your ass as you jolt forward, the silicone cock slipping deeper within you, kissing your cervix as vi keeps her hand on your lower back, guiding your movements.

“f-feels really good, vi.”

vi kisses down your neck, biting at the skin before she presses her scarred lip against your ear.

“i know it does, princess. been wanting this for months, huh? don’t worry about a thing. i’ll take care of you.”

vi smirks as she sees caitlyn stirring with fury, bold pair of blues ignite under the fire of someone else seeing what is so rightfully hers. she hates this, knowing someone else is talking you through it, touching your skin, soft lips kissing the ample skin of your neck.

truthfully, she’s never been a jealous person. as the rises at the break of dawn and sets in the cool evening, caitlyn truly believed she’s the one for you — no one else could dare compete.

it’s caitlyn and you.

but suddenly it doesn’t feel like the two of you against the world.

it’s vi and you, the anxiety bubbling in her stomach feels catastrophic, so she fucks into you, making you squirm with need. but still, you’re so entangled in vi, you don’t even notice her.

the night hadn’t started the way caitlyn planned — or wanted — but she lapped at your cunt as vi instructed her to do so. she’d been vying for an ounce of her attention. truthfully, she’d settle for either one of you, but the two seem to enthralled with one another to even notice her existence.

but fuck, you’re her girlfriend. only hers.

but when you’re close, you ask vi for permission to come. it’s vi’s whose name you scream out when you start falling apart on caitlyn’s cock. it’s vi rubbing your clit, whispering sweet nothing in your ear as you see stars, it’s vi who pulls you into her lap as you cling onto her for dear life, as if caitlyn’s touch feels poisonous.

nothing makes sense.

when caitlyn thinks for a moment, she’ll get an ounce of attention, vi handcuffs her to the chair across the bed.

“what are you doing?” dark blue eyebrows furrow as her, eye squinting harshly.

“you’ll get your turn, be patient.” vi scolds, but she has no intention on following through on her promise. this is to make a mockery her, to show her exactly what’s she been missing.

in the full nude, she walks over to the night stand, grabbing the harness, and makes sure everything is just right for you — the hot pink dildo protrudes, just as she promised. the pink bush she’s sporting matches deliciously as her happy trail follows up her lower abdomen.

caitlyn wants to curse at the wind when you immediately fall in obedience, commands fly off vi’s tongue and you adhere to her wishes. the first has your mouth wrapping around her pink cock, she gently thrusts, lubricating the plastic with your tongue. your hands twisting vi’s pierced nipples, playing with the silver barbell, taking pride and joy when her breath hitches.

“lay on your back for me, yeah?” vi doesn’t waste another beat.

with reckless intent, she slides in, every inch of her saturated in your warmth. you waste no time, fingers woven through her hair like a thread through embroidery. her pink hair becomes nothing more than a leash for you tug on, each powerful thrust to much, too soon — but you also are too terrified to let go.

"take it, princess. just like that—" violet pushes deep, clinging to her broad back, scratches made in tandem when she delivers a brutal pace. "tell her how much you love my cock."

there she sits, jaw slack, mouth open so wide she could catch flies.

vi can't tell if you she's crying and part of her almost feels bed until desperate pleas of her name fall from sanctioned lips. violet smirks as she looks back at caitlyn, waiting for the inevitable moment of her crumble.

there's only so much one girl could take and violet knew she had to be hitting her limit. soft please of, babygirl, falls on ears that only hears vi's instruction. deviously, violet smirks as she watches caitlyn realizes exactly what as going on.

but it's too late.

you're already far out her grip as your grip onto violet for dear life as you come apart on her cock, moaning louder than caitlyn's ever heard.

you're never loud, even when the two of you did have sex, it's always been quiet.

sweet. soft.

nothing about this is tender as your squirt all over her bed sheet, effectively sending violet over the edge from watching you come, fucking you harder as you moan into her neck, sharp teeth sinking into her collarbones.

to sink the final dagger in her heart, you initate violet's lips locking in yours, a smashing of desire reaches it's fateful end. caitlyn watches as you lose yourself in someone else, someone older, wiser — her stomach churns as she desperately tries to break free of the restraints.

she's been made a fool of, a mere mockery just for wanting to try something you suggested. but the jealousy falls around her, she's not strong enough to watch you enjoy getting your brains fucked by someone who has everything.

for the first time in her life, she feels you slipping through her fingers.

"would you stop touching her? this is over. we're done with you, vi. she's my girlfriend, get off her." bitterly, caitlyn sneers.

"oh, she does?"

with a roll of her strong hips, vi thrusts deep into your pussy, you clench around her, arching your back as you cry out for your lover's touch.

"well, i hate to be the barrier of bad news, but she's not done which means neither am i. so, enjoy the show, cait. you sure have paid a pretty penny for it."

[sugarwarachan]

i go back to read ur touchstarved!shigaraki probably three times a day and im being deadass 😭😭😭 if u ever think of more…….. i’d love 😁😁

nonnie you’re in luck because I think about him all day long he literally makes me ill 😭 more touchstarved!shiggy here

touchstarved!shigaraki who has no sexual experience whatsoever but is the walking talking textbook definition of sexual frustration

touchstarved!shigaraki who starts fantasizing about you to the point that it interferes with his daily life—he starts dropping the ball on LOV plans, becomes even more disengaged and irritable during meetings

touchstarved!shigaraki who finally caves and searches for porn (inexpertly), not really caring for the content so much as the fact that the person must look like you

touchstarved!shigaraki who starts researching sex toys that mimic your tight little hole (disgusting pervert god I want him), desperate in a way he’s never been in his entire life

touchstarved!shigaraki who can’t stop thinking about how you’d feel, how’d you sound, how your sweet little pussy clench around nothing above his face, desperate for his cock to fill you up nice and tight

touchstarved!shigaraki who’s making himself cum at least twice a day just to be able to fucking function

[actinidiafruit]

Okay so i just recently watched the lighthouse again and a lot of things are becoming more clear to me.

Contains spoilers so uh, if you haven't watched (pls do), then don't read.

There's so many things to talk about and this post will probably come across as a crazy man's ramblings, but so be it.

Tom's role is interesting to say the least. Like, at first you kinda just think that he's being a dick for the sake of being a dick and he's just doing that classic old man shit. But then you get these little glimpses.

This is just my interpretation, but the way he mentions how his former second went crazy and was hallucinating mermaids and shit. It kinds plants the seeds into (for the sake of clarity I'll just call him Winslow) Winslow's head. And during their sober run together (before the bird + storm incidents), they're acting relatively normal. Of course Tom gives Winslow a hard time, but that's just him being Tom. Abusing his power as the elder a bit. But the way he morphs in the later half of the movie (especially now that they're both abusing alcohol). You see his intentions more clearly. The way he gaslights Winslow, tries to turn things on him, the way he wrote bad things about him in the log book(?). He's a mean old guy. But why? I still can't figure out why he's done this. Why he killed his former second (which he totally did, even if he didn't spill his beans about it). Is he protective of the light? Is that it? God knows.

And te way the mermaid is presented is... it makes you think. In my first two watches, I didn't understand why or why. But I think now it's a symbol for Winslow's sexuality (at least in some scenes). The way he'd use the charm in the shed. The way he had that hallucination on the rocks. The time he caught Tom having a private moment in the lighthouse and then hallucinated tentacles. Towards the end, when he's beating Tom on the floor and Winslow hallucinates him turning into some sort of sea king type creature.

Of course something must've happened between the two. That one scene where they're drunkenly holding each other, swaying, then go to kiss before breaking out into a fight. The whole master/dog thing. There's a lot of Winslow reflected in Tom. And of course he'd eventually spill his beans, want to be intimate, etc. They've been alone together for god knows how long. It's a very human thing to want to reach out and connect.

It's just so indicative of the human condition and the way that we connect. I feel like I need to watch this movie another 20 times before I fully get it, but my eyes were opened to quite a bit.

And the scene where Winslow looks into the light and laughs/screams. It gives me this sense of triumph (he finally got to see the Forbidden thing!) but also bittersweet. The laughter is triump, the bittersweet screaming is Winslow coming to grips with the fact that it's just a light. There was no point to why Tom guarded it like he did. It's like Winslow finally realises that he let himself be led to madness by some old, lying idiot and can't help but scream at his foolishness. The pointlessness of it all. And maybe that's why he lets himself fall down the stairs and ultimately die. His sins cannot be undone (done-bun can't be undone), so therefore he rots, being eaten by the very things that kickstarted his whole downfall.

Finally, just ugh. The cinematography. The unreliable narrator aspect. The way it's so open ended to interpretation. This movie has so much to give, I just wish my friends liked it even a little lol.

updated this list btw

RULES:

at least one of the pair MUST be over 50

20 year MINIMUM age gap OR they BOTH have to be over 50

has to be conceivably reciprocal (s.exually, no necessarily romantically)

[linddzz]

Sat here and combed through all your jayvik analysis posts giggling and kicking my feet but PLEASE tell me more about the whole dom/sub thing, especially the whole “they have absolutely not discussed that this is the dynamic, it just happens and neither of them acknowledge it” because that is genuinely so interesting. Like I could already tell Viktor had hella ‘quiet calm collected dom’ vibes especially compared to jayce’s ‘excited protective puppy who would FOLD at being called a good boy’ energy…

But the whole bit on the bridge where Viktor smacks his hand away without even looking? And Jayce EARNS BACK TOUCHING PRIVELEGES? Fucking scrumptious please tell me more.

god i need to get to writing my fic bc I feel like "talk more about it" would be solved just by me dropping the link This ended up being TOO LONG so I split it between me going feral about that bridge scene and then me going feral at other moments of nonverbal communication that I use to feed my Dom/sub "oh you two are just LIKE THAT" interpretation. So. here's part one

That bridge scene tho...im so normal about it

hhhggg god that bridge scene is one that I rotate in my brain so much because it is such a small moment that makes so much of their dynamic click. For me, specifically, it clicks the "submissive like a guard dog is submissive" dynamic, where Jayce is, on a surface level, the stronger and more forceful of the two while Viktor is the one actually holding the leash (until he's too tired to because he's dying, and I only half joke when I say that their issues at the end of season 1 are because Jayce is suddenly the equivalent of a dog holding it's own leash and getting stressed out about it.

Jayce's touching before the bridge come across as pretty overbearing honestly. He's holding his hand out to keep Viktor from speaking out...

Heck, while the still screenshot doesn't show it too well, Jayce slings an arm around Viktor with enough force that it knocks Viktor off balance for a second and shoves him forward a little.

Viktor got dragged to the hexgate when Jayce is looking into shipping discrepancies happening there, even though it obviously doesn't involve him and he does NOT want to be there.

(In hindsight this is a hilarious bit of showing that it did not occur to either of them that there's no goddamn reason for Viktor to be here. This is council business, Jayce outright says "I'm a councilor now Viktor" which does not answer why tf Viktor needs to be there. these twits just handle all problems as a unit lmao. The tragic flip is that this is could then be a breaking moment when Viktor goes back to the lab, realizing that him and Jayce are not, in actuality, a single unit anymore. because Jayce got a second job that is not Lab With Viktor oh my god you codependent dweebs)

Up until that point it would be really easy to see Jayce as being presumptive and unintentionally overpowering Viktor in personality. Heck, it's what I thought the dynamic was as I was watching Season 1, though even as I thought that it seemed somehow...not quite correct.

And then the bridge scene.

Even before the hand-smack, there's a flip on the reading up to this point that Jayce has been accidentally bowling over Viktor by force of personality/physicality. Jayce comes in hot, upset, angrily standing over Viktor and chewing him out, and Viktor is just like "....and??"

Viktor is calm if baffled and annoyed at Jayce's frustration (also; Viktor just rolling his eyes and shaking his head at the actual riot happening a few yards away? hilarious. i love him.) His almost nonchalantly confused tone when he asks "what difference does that make?" always gets me. the entire back and forth says, to me anyway, that Jayce may be more brash and socially competent, but he's not overpowering Viktor at all, actually.

Viktor is going to do whatever the fuck Viktor wants.

This is immediately made clear by the much beloved hand smack. Viktor doesn't even look up, and his smack shows that he is perfectly capable of setting a hard boundary on Jayce's touching, and that Jayce will IMMEDIATELY fold and apologize when that boundary is set. That smack makes it suddenly clear that when Jayce goes for the shoulder touch right after apologizing, Viktor consciously allows it.

idk WHY but I also love this little tiniest moment when Jayce is going for the second touch. Viktor glances back as Jayce approaches him (looking like a cat with its ears pinned back lmao), then looks away as he accepts the second touch and they move on. It's such a tiny detail of showing Viktor, who is still pretty pissed at Jayce, seeing the touch as it comes in and then deciding to let it happen. im rotating them in my mind. please send help

In my framing of them being a guard dog/handler dynamic, the bridge scene is us seeing a moment of the leash getting a sudden sharp tug to bring the guard dog to heel. It resets all the earlier instances as being ones that Viktor allows to happen, because he doesn't see a need to correct it.

fuck man this doesn't even get into the bridge scene as a major crack between them as the moment Viktor loses his trust that Jayce will understand his decision. i am unwell

[d3v1ls4dvocat3]

Doomed

James “Bucky” Barnes x Fem! Reader Smut

Summary: When Bucky notices the new neighbor, he can’t seem to get her out of his head! Whatever will he do?

W.C: 1600

Tags: Smut!, pervert! Bucky, panty thief! bucky, guilty bucky?, mentions of lingerie, AFAB! Reader, age gap but it’s not specified, male masturbation, breast fixation, nipple fixation, p in v? kinda? it doesn’t actually happen, Bucky POV, mentions of steve, mentions of war and Buck being the Winter Solider

MDNI!! Let me know if I missed anything!!

He remembers the exact day you moved into the apartment across the hall.

It was only a few days before the new year. Everyone on the floor had seemingly left to be with family, not that he bothered to keep track of his neighbors whereabouts, but he had noticed the overall lack of people when he made the unfortunate trip out of his apartment to see his therapist every other day.

That made your appearance even more noticeable.

Bucky liked to keep track of everyone he saw day-to-day anyway, it helped calm his nerves (rather he told himself it calmed his nerves) and luckily enough for him, you didn’t want to stop and introduce yourself.

Over the next few weeks, he only saw you a handful of times. You both never said anything, barely even looked at each other. It was nice.

Of course, nothing lasts forever. His therapist was sure to tell him that, much to his distain. Strangely enough, it was on one of his trips coming back from another session with Dr. Raynor that he found you cursing to yourself standing outside your apartment.

A part of him wanted to just walk by, and avoid the headache altogether. But he could hear a quiet voice in his mind that sounded a lot like Steve telling him to man up and help a poor lady in need. He sighed mentally and cleared his throat to grab your attention.

You looked up with slight shock and embarrassment. “Oh.. uhm, I’m not in your way am I?” You asked.

He frowned. “No, sorry. You look like you’re having some trouble there?”

Your eyes seemed to light up. “Is it that obvious?”

Bucky chuckled lightly and stepped closer to you, offering a hand of assistance. You gladly handed him your key.

“This building is old. These keys get stuck all the time. You’ve gotta know how to turn it to get it to unlock,” Bucky said as he fidgeted with your lock.

You watched him with unwavering eyes. Unknowingly to you, he was watching you out of the corner of his eye. This was the first time he’d really gotten a good look at your face. You were young, way younger than anyone he’d talked to recently. Most likely a college student. You held yourself with confidence but not in a way that made you seem cocky. You just had a sense of determination he hadn’t seen in a long time.

It was refreshing. Reminded him of sunlight.

He immediately frowned at that thought and focused his attention on your lock. Within a moment a quiet ‘click’ sounded through the small hallway. Your face lit up with a smile so bright he almost had to look away.

“Oh my god, thank you! I seriously thought I was fucked there,” You exclaimed.

He nodded and stepped back. “No problem. You can come get me if it does it again. I’m pretty much always home.”

You smiled again, gentler this time. “I will. Seriously, thank you. I really appreciate it.”

He watched you escape into the comfort of your home. He smiled, unbeknownst to himself and turned to his own apartment.

Cute.

_____

The next time he saw you was only a few weeks later.

Since the door fiasco, Bucky couldn’t get you out of his head. He wasn’t sure why, but something about you was like a breath of fresh air. He felt almost addicted to it, to how he felt at that moment.

So when he opened the door to the laundry room he was understandably surprised to see you. He was also even more surprised to see you in nothing but pajama pants and a very very small tank top.

And no bra.

He was going to turn around. Laundry could wait. Just as soon as his hand hit the door knob, he heard an intake of breath.

“It’s you!”

He sighed.

Bucky turned back around and smiled. “It’s me.”

You were smiling that same damn smile. He felt weak in his knees.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” You said happily.

He nodded. “I don’t get out much.”

You hummed in understanding. “I get that. I’m still getting used to the city myself.”

It was quiet for only a moment, before you noticed Bucky’s small basket of laundry. You quietly moved over and motioned to the washing machine.

“I’m almost done with the dryer,” You said. Bucky muttered a quiet ‘thanks’ and began throwing his clothes into the washer. Once he was finished you both sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“I don’t think I ever got your name…?”

Bucky himself was surprised at the question that came from his mouth. You also seemed surprised for a second before grinning.

As you said your name, he watched your lips form the word. Your name fit you, he thought. He whispered it to himself, trying to commit it to memory. Although, he was sure just like everything else about you, he wouldn’t forget it.

“James,” He said in return.

“Nice to officially meet you, James,” You practically purred. He felt his knees go weak again. He feared that might be a common occurrence around you.

As the silence fell over you again, Bucky began to struggle with his most recent thoughts. He questioned why he was acting like a teenager with a crush again?

Bucky had been through more than twenty men combined. He’d done things so horrible he couldn’t even speak about it. He’d seen things that would make anyone want to commit suicide. So why, out of all things, was a girl making him feel so weak?

He quietly looked over at you again. He traced the outline of your figure. Your hair down to your eyelashes. His eyes moved to your lips, plump and wet from where you’d licked them while talking.

He continued trailing down until his eyes stopped on your breasts. He felt guilt wash over him immediately at the practically sinful sight before him. He could perfectly make out your tits. The cold air in the room had made your nipples perk up just enough to poke through the already thin tank top.

Bucky glanced away quickly as the buzzer from the dryer sounded. He turned slightly to hide his tightening pants. You bent over to grab your clothes and he practically called out to god to strike him dead right there before he made a fool of himself.

It felt like years before you were up again and leaving the room. Before you closed the door, you waved bye to him. Bucky had to force every once of what he’d learned as an assassin just to seem normal enough to wave back.

Once the door closed behind you, he groaned and put his face in his hands. He tried to calm his breathing, using some of the techniques Dr. Raynor had taught him in one of their very first sessions. It was probably close to ten minutes before he felt okay enough to remove his hands from his face.

Bucky needed to calm down. You were just a girl. There was absolutely no reason to be feeling like this.

He repeated that to himself as he took his clothes out of the washing machine. As he went to throw them into the dryer, a small bright red thing caught his eye.

He grabbed it before he could even process what it was. He held up the laced piece of clothing he wasn’t sure would cover anything and knew he was doomed.

“Fucking dirty girl…”

_________

He was a pervert.

He knew he was a pervert. He felt guilty and ashamed and terrible.

However,

The thought of you wearing nothing but those red laced panties and a matching bra had been plaguing Buck’s mind. He couldn’t stop. He’d tried. He’d done everything he could think of.

He’d taken a cold shower.

He’d gone for a run.

He even tried to watch some of the movies that Steve had written down in his journal of things he “absolutely needs to watch and listen to” or whatever the blond had said.

Nothing could get that image out of his head.

It was three in the morning when he was fed up and aching and he needed release. He hadn’t meant to grab them. He was simply caught up in the moment. His hand stroking up and down his cock. He moaned and stroked faster.

Once the soft fabric touched his tip, he had to stop himself from instantly cumming.

“Oh fuck…” He moaned. Bucky wrapped the thong tightly around his hand. In his mind, he imagined your hips rubbing up and down his hard on. Teasing him in every way you knew would rile him up.

“Something wrong, Barnes?”

He groaned. He was fucking up into his fist now. He imagined flipping you over, grabbing your hands with his metal one and using his other one to squeeze your breasts.

He imagined kissing down your stomach until he got to those red panties and slowly, sensually kissing down them until you were begging to feel him. Begging him to touch you.

“Say my fucking name, doll,” He moaned.

He imagined your hands wrapped around his back and he mercilessly pounded into you. He imagined your soft lips wrapped around his full length, with your bright eyes filled with tears as you looked up at him.

He cursed.

“Nice to officially meet you, James.”

Suddenly he was cumming into his fist. He continued to stroke his cock until he was spent. As he calmed down, he looked down to see the mess he’d made with your undergarments.

“Fuck.”

He was seriously doomed.

[little-wicked10]

Wanna Bet?🌹

Summary: After inviting her to be his date to some dinner, she finds out about the cruel and sleazy bet between Soldier Boy and his sidekick.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, cursing, dirty talk, body insecurities, self-doubt, Gunpowder and Black Noir being dicks, use of the word ‘fat’, body worship, mirror sex, overstimulation, creampie

Notes: I read this headcannon by @zepskies that really hit me in the feels. I deal with body insecurities, and I was inspired to write this for anyone that’s ever felt insecure or ashamed of their body🩷 Plus, Soldier Boy gives off the vibe that he’d like a thick girl😈 Prepare to cry and be horny (it’s a confusing feeling).

//

The reflection she saw in the mirror she didn’t like. It was too easy to pick apart every aspect of her body that she found undesirable: her stomach wasn’t flat, love handles, stretch marks on her thighs, arms kinda flabby, and her ass was too big. Don’t even get her started on her breasts. At least, that’s how she saw herself, a collection of undesirable, unattractive features. While some would refer to her as curvy, she knew that was a nice way of saying she wasn’t thin.

Fat to be exact.

Despite all the things she thought was wrong about her, Soldier Boy apparently didn’t. It was hard not to be intimidated by the supe when he approached her with that confident swagger, sitting on the edge of her desk. She blushed when he flashed a charming smile and began complimenting her.

“So listen, I need a date for this bullshit dinner in Payback’s honor,” his tone was playful, “I came around to ask if you’d be my arm candy for the night.”

Her eyes widened in shock, “Y-You want me to go? With you?”

“Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to, sweetheart,” he chuckled, “What do ya say? Wanna spend a night with America’s Hero?”

Of course, she said yes. She’d have been an idiot not to. It wasn’t until she was by herself did she realize what she agreed to, and her stomach fluttered with anxiety and excitement. She was about to go on a date with Soldier Boy. THE Soldier Boy. The supe that has his pick of any woman asked her to be his date. She recognizes he probably asked out of convenience. She was the one female employee he hadn’t tried to or succeeded in sleeping with.

He wouldn’t want to sleep with her anyway. Why would he? Rumors around the tower were he had playmates and supermodels on speed dial, so why would he want to sleep with her? She was just a plain office employee that blended into the background.

A knock interrupted her reeling thoughts. Opening the door, a young man from Vought stood balancing a clothes bag and a couple of boxes in his arms. She let him in and watched as he set the items out on her kitchen counter. She thanked him as she handed him a decent tip. The poor kid probably wasn’t making enough to run errands for a bunch of supes.

Delicately, her fingers began to inspect the items before noticing a note attached to one of the boxes:

‘Pick you up at 7. Wear this for me, doll - SB’

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach seeing his handwriting. She quickly unzipped the bag to reveal a beautiful black silk dress, “Holy shit.” The boxes contained a pair of strappy black heels and glittering diamond jewelry. If she wasn’t in disbelief before, she definitely was now.

Looking up at the clock, she shifted gears and began to get ready. She was meticulous in her routine: shaving and moisturizing until she felt soft and smooth, redoing her makeup to perfection, taking extra care with every strand of hair curled. She hadn’t felt this giddy and nervous in a long time. God knew the last time she put this much effort into her self-care. While her insecurities still rested heavily in her thoughts, a little bubble of hope settled in her chest. Maybe he would find her attractive enough to sleep with.

It should have been more upsetting that she could potentially be another notch on his belt, but the way he looked at her made her feel so….beautiful, attractive, sexy even.

She didn’t stare at her reflection too long, simply glancing to make sure everything was together and perfect. She felt so beautiful and studying herself would only ruin that feeling. Suddenly, there was another knock at her door. Looking at the clock, nerves chewed on her stomach realizing he had arrived right on time.

She stepped towards the door and, with trembling hands, opened it. Leaning against the door frame, looking like the Marlboro man himself, was Soldier Boy. His eyes blatantly roamed over her head to toe, “Christ on a cross! Aren’t you delicious.”

She nearly melted into a puddle, “T-Thank you. You have great taste.”

He smirked before producing a rose from behind his back, “I know what looks good on a woman’s body. Usually, it’s me.”

He chuckled when her whole face broke out in a deep blush before taking the flower from him. “C’mon, sexy. Got a limo and champagne on ice waiting for us downstairs,” he smirked as he held out his arm to her that she quickly accepted.

//

All eyes fell on Soldier Boy and his date the second they entered the room. They all wanted to know who the supe had decided to bring. He encouraged her to feel up his muscles with a mischievous grin as they moved about the party. She was quiet as she walked with him, observing the charismatic way he interacted with everyone that approached. People were just captivated by him. It was too easy to get caught up in his charming smile and hearty laugh.

Her back stiffened when she noticed they were getting closer to Payback, one of the more nerve wracking tables to be a guest at. He must have felt her tense because he chuckled, “Don’t be so uptight, baby. You’re rollin’ with Soldier Boy. Have some fun.” She looked up at his forest green eyes, biting her lip and nodding with a smile. He suddenly stopped a waiter with a tray of champagne flutes, taking one for himself and urging her to do the same.

He gently clinked their glasses together before downing the liquor in one go. He groaned in satisfaction which sent her imagination running wild. God, was that man a walking sex dream. They finally stood around Payback’s table. The team members didn’t seem too friendly with one another. It was more like they tolerated each other, but that wasn’t new.

Soldier Boy released her arm to pull out a chair. She mumbled a shy thank you before sitting down. Glancing around the table, she noticed Gunpowder and Black Noir whispering to themselves before laughing. Doubt crept into her mind, body nearly closing in on itself, when a large hand rested against her lower back. Eyes darted over to see Soldier Boy smirking at her. Her stomach fluttered again, skin breaking out in goosebumps from the warmth of his palm. The look on his face gave away the fact he loved seeing her so flustered.

//

It was nearing the end of the night when he excused himself, “Don’t go anywhere, gorgeous. Gotta talk with the big wigs before we get outta here.” Her cheeks pinked, and she nodded, watching him disappear into the crowd of people. A content sigh leaves her lips, fingers admiring the rose he’d given her. She was having a great time, which she hadn’t expected. She assumed she’d be ignored the second they arrived, but Ben (which he insisted she call him) had been nothing but a charming date. Flirting and little touches that had her heart racing and heat pooling between her legs. It was like he knew the effect he had on her.

“Can’t believe I owe that son of a bitch a $100.”

“I told you it was a bad idea.”

Gunpowder and Black Noir’s voices caught her attention. She looked around and found them just a few steps away from the table near the bar. They either didn’t know or didn’t care how loud they were as they continued their conversation. Whatever they were talking about, Gunpowder was pissed off.

“You know better than to make bets with that asshole,” Noir chastised, “You lost $500 betting he couldn’t convince Farah Fawcett and Cindy Crawford to a threesome.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Looks like he’s actually gonna go for it,” Gunpowder groaned, “I thought he’d be too shallow to sleep with her fat ass.”

There it was, her worst fear. She felt like cold water had been dumped on her, jolting her awake from whatever dream she’d been in. This whole thing had been a bet? Her throat constricted and tears began to burn in her eyes, stomach twisting till she felt nauseas. She felt so pathetic and stupid. How could she have been so blind? It was all just a fucked up game, and she played right into it.

She stood and quickly made her way to the nearest bathroom. Her vision blurred causing her to bump a few people on her way out. They scowled and complained, but she didn’t notice. Once hidden away, tears began to trickle down her cheeks. Of course this had been a cruel joke. Somebody like Ben wouldn’t have given her a second glance if it he wasn’t getting something out of it. She leaned against the sink, wiping her cheeks and refusing to look up in the mirror. She could scrutinize herself and all her flaws later. Right now, she just wanted to disappear.

She took a moment to collect herself before exiting the bathroom. Quietly sniffling as she walked down the hall, she held herself for comfort or else she’d fall apart.

“Hey! There ya are!”

Her heart stopped beating hearing his heavy boots approach her. This couldn’t be happening.

“Thought you ditched me. You weren’t tryin’ to run out on me, were ya, sweetheart?” he teased.

She tried to pick up her pace and keep her head down, praying he’d take the hint to leave her alone, but he easily stopped her by stepping in her path. His original words were stuck on his tongue when he noticed her distress, big tears welling in her eyes, “Hey, what’s goin’ on? What happened?”

She sniffled, a sour taste forming in her mouth, “I-I appreciate the…date, but I think it’s better if I go.”

He blocked her attempt to step around him, “Whoa, whoa, hold on. Why are ya cryin?”

Anger bubbled up in her chest at his false ignorance, “Tell Gunpowder you owe him $100.” The statement stunned him, mouth hanging ajar in shock trying to think of what to say. “Next time you make a bet like that, make sure your fucking sidekick isn’t in earshot of your ‘date’,” she clenched her teeth to keep her voice from trembling.

She once again went to step around him, but his hand wrapping around her upper arm and swung her around to face him, “Wait, c’mon. Lemme explain, doll.”

She tried to pry her arm from his hold, but he was obviously too strong, “Let me go.”

“Just listen, will ya?“ he could hear her breathing become more shaky, heart rate picking up.

“I’m not listening to anything you have to say!” she choked, struggling to escape his hold, “You tricked me into thinking you actually wanted to go out with me. That you might have thought I was…attractive.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Ben asked astonished, “You’re sexy as hell!”

“Oh, spare me! Spare me the curvy comments or whatever bullshit you come up with! I’m just some fat ass you got paid to try and fuck, but it’s not happening!” the tears came full force now, insecurities exposed like an open would, “I’m so fucking stupid for thinking Soldier Boy would genuinely find me attractive at all.”

Suddenly, she was pushed up against the nearest wall, his growl rumbling down the empty corridor. Both his hands had her shoulders pinned, their chests only inches apart. “You gonna listen, or keep bitchin’?” the look in his eyes was dark. She was frozen in place at the show of strength and aggression. She didn’t wanna listen, but what choice did she have?

“Yeah, I made the bet. Made it so limp dick motherfuckers like Noir couldn’t get to your sexy ass before me,” he rasped.

“Don’t fuck with me,” she argued, “Nobody thinks I’m sexy.”

“Says who?” he quipped.

Her eyes cast down to the eagle on his chest, “Everyone.”

“Oh really? Everyone?” Ben suddenly took her hand and pushed it against the front of his pants. He chuckled and smirked at her wide eyes and small gasp, “Might wanna tell my dick that, honey. He clearly didn’t get the memo.”

He could hear her heart race soar, blood pumping faster to pink her cheeks and roar in her own ears. She looked at him in disbelief. “This sexy body of yours has been drivin’ me nuts!” he groaned, “You know how hard it was not to bend you over that table, lift that lil’ dress up, and fuck you raw? Fuck you like a woman should be fucked?”

Her breathing had turned to desperate pants the more he spoke.

“I’m a greedy motherfucker, baby. When I want something, I get it. Right now, I wanna touch every part of ya that you don’t like and tell ya why it’s my favorite,” his lips pressed against her ear, trailing down her neck, “I know what looks good on a woman’s body. Yours would look better naked and under mine.”

//

“B-Ben…please,” she gasped, clutching the sheets between her fingers.

His reply was the obscene sound of him slurping at her overstimulated pussy. The man had been making out with her weeping center for what felt like hours. The orgasms were beginning to melt together making her brain turn to mush. Ben planned to worship her body head to toe. He stood her in front of a mirror and told her to point out all the things she thought he wouldn’t like.

When she tried to look away from her reflection, he gently wrapped a hand around her jaw and made her look, “Nuh uh. Do as you’re told.”

He saw her eyes glance down, “M-My thighs. They h-have s-stretch marks. They’re t-too big.”

Ben was quick to spread her out on his giant Alaskan king bed to leave his mark on her plush thighs. He could have stayed down there for a few more hours if his cock wasn’t aching to be inside her. It was when he pulled away to let her catch her breath did she notice the ceiling was actually a mirror. A surprised gasp passed her kiss swollen lips seeing Ben’s back muscles flex between her spread legs. Her body felt too heavy to move, so she closed her eyes.

“No,” his voice was stern, “That mirror’s there for a reason, baby. Look at yourself, or I’ll stop.”

A pathetic whine came from her throat that was unrecognizable before she opened her eyes. She watched as he traveled up her body, his broader one obscuring the view of herself. She cried out when he harshly sucked and bit at her breasts. Her hands locked into his hair as she arched into his mouth. Ben made sure to kiss every stretch mark he found before leaving a deep bruise in the shape of his mouth and teeth. He pulled off of her with a pop before switching their position.

Before she knew it, she was laid on top of him, legs resting on either side of his to keep her spread out. She could see in the reflection his dick hard and leaking, twitching when he rutted his hips up to coat it in her slick. Ben wrapped an arm around her under her breasts to keep her in place as his free hand lined his tip up with her entrance. The way he was manhandling her had her lust skyrocketing. She never thought a man would be able to dominate her like that until now.

“Fuck! You’re beautiful,” he growled in her ear as his tip finally slipped inside.

She moaned and tried to move her hips down to sink more of him inside. The arm around her torso held her still, “Patient, sweetheart. Just keep watching.”

Their eyes met in the mirror, the green in his had turned black with desire. Ben nibbled her earlobe and neck as he sunk himself deeper inside until his tip kissed the back of her cervix. A mix between a strangled cry and whimper came out of her mouth as he stretched her out. She struggled not to let her eyes roll back into her head as he began to move. Unable to control himself, Ben started fucking her with purpose. Deep, hard thrusts nearly knocked the breath from her lungs. He watched as her eyes moved between his flexing arm around her and where his dick disappeared inside her.

“See? Look how pretty you are, baby? These pretty tits,” his hands suddenly cupping both of them in his hands, squeezing harshly, “This soft body. Those thick thighs. All of it. All of you gets me so fucking hard.”

She moaned, unable to look away from their reflection now. She was mesmerized by his words and the way his length brushed against that sensitive spot inside her. Every time he hit it, she saw stars. Ben attacked it like it was his mission. Desperate babbling rolled off her tongue as he fucked her with intense purpose. Her brain had officially shut off, too drunk on lust to give a damn about something like insecurities.

His groan vibrated against her back when her walls started clenching down on him, “Cum for me, beautiful. Ya gonna watch? I know I am.”

The band tightened, and tightened, and tightened, so close to the end but not quite there. She cried out in desperate frustration catching Ben’s attention. His right hand left her breast and trailed down her plush stomach until he reached her clit. He circled the little wet pearl with his middle finger in time with his thrusts. She screamed at the overstimulation and came, squirting all over their thighs and the mattress. Ben kept going, drawing out the electricity coursing through her until her hips started jerking away from his hand.

“One more,” he ordered.

“C-C…can’t!” she babbled.

“Oh you’re gonna, baby. I’m ruinin’ this pussy if it’s the last thing I do,” he growled.

He snapped his hips hard, slamming into that gummy spot and making her squirt again. She tried to scream but nothing came out. Her eyes finally looked away to roll into her head, tremors wracking her body as she fell apart. Ben shoved himself as deep as he could when he came. “Fuck!” he moaned as he kept rutting into her until he was completely spent.

She felt like she was floating, barely able to string together a conscious thought. Her body buzzed in the aftershocks of the incredible orgasms he’s wracked her body with. He carefully shifted them to lay on their sides, spooning her and not daring to pull out. He smirked at her trembling body in his arms. “Just relax,” he kissed her temple before glancing up at the mirror, “Good girl. Told you I’d look good on you.”

[strawberrymoosetracks]

I read this as if it were in the modern day, and that the aforementioned God of War has taken on the modern form of someone who would be consitered the most powerful soldier, or the epitome of modern war. To me, the epitome of modern war is just a relatively fit guy who sits in a room with a PC. Heres my take on it, I didn't put much effort into this so sorry if it sucks :)

I've got to hand it to humans, they are great at making things efficient. Their innovation is beyond any other species I've encountered. One of their favorite things to make more efficient is war. Back in the old days, they trained young men, put them in armor, gave them a sword, and marched them thousands of miles for a fight against other young men who were similarly armed.

They started including horses, which sped up the transportation process. Then they came up with guns. A marvelous invention really. It made war much quicker, but it also forced armor to get better. As much as I liked the shiny armors, it was always too loud. It was nearly impossible to sneak anywhere, and seeing was a nightmare.

Nowadays, the most powerful warmonger is a guy at a desk. One may think that is crazy, but in all fairness, that guy has the ability to shoot a thousand suns at whoever they want to. I've had this job for eighty years, under three seperate faces.

I love efficiency...but the God of War gets bored when the people capeable of war are too scared to fight eachother. The Cold War ranks the lowest out of all the fun wars. Sooo, I look for fun in other ways. I started in the eighties when I could find someone who wasn't an anti-war hippie, but wasn't a complete jerk. That was when I realised my love language. I love physical touch. It's like my kryptonite. Maybe it's that it's been years since any soldier was willing to hug, especially in high war time. I had forgotten how great it felt to hug.

And now we get to the modern day, I have a girlfriend. She's super sweet, but sometimes she has some...interesting ideas. We get into conversations and find out that she has the strangest ideas. We go to the bar with friends and get into conversations about the romans, and as someone who was there, I have to set them straight. They always brush me off, saying that it can't be true. Maybe in my next iteration I can become a historian and set these lies straight. Anyways, we were at a bar with some other soldiers, and we were talking about Ares. That used to be my name, but I have been though too many lives since then.

"You think you can buy the loyalty of the God of War with something as small as affection? Don't be stupid." Leah said, taking a sip of her drink.

As the others seemed to agree, I just had to intervine. "As the aforementioned God of War, she's wrong you can absolutely do that. I'm basically a cat; pat my head and l'l be your loyal servant for... five minutes, give or take?"

The group was completely silent. They all stared at me, trying to work though it. Leah started laughing, "You're funny, Levi. You don't even get in real combat. Like come on." She slowly stoped laughing as my face continued to be serious. "You're not joking? You really think you're the God of War?"

"I don't think, I know." I said, staring into their blank faces, "Ok watch." I looked around the bar and eyed two guys who were friends. I pointed at them, and they immediately became enraged. They yelled at eachother, mostly nonsense. There was no real greivance, just some pent up anger I was using. One was about to swing when they suddenly stopped, sitting down and continued to talk as normal. I turned back to my drink and took a small sip.

I took a deep breath in and out, my shoulders dramatically rising and falling. It had been centuries since I told anyone I was the God of War. Since the romans went out, people stopped believing in pantheon gods. I would have shown the middevial europe my real self, but I had inconveniently been turned into a woman at that time. Calling myself a God was an easy way to get burnt at the stake, and getting out of that was too much work.

"No way..." My girlfriend muttered, staring at me.

I slowly turned to her, "Well, do I give loyalty for head pats?" She nodded slowly, her mouth agape.

My buddy next to her slowly leaned over and patted me on the head, "Please don't kill me."

I smirked, "Wasn't planning on it." I drank the rest of my drink and set it down, not really knowing how to start back up the conversation. It just became dead silent, everyone grapling with my revealed identity. Well I just ruined the night with this again, teaches me to never reveal myself with my close friends. So many centuries into this, and I apparently still have many things to learn.

—"You think you can buy the loyalty of the God of War with something as fickle as affection? Don't be foolish." —"As the aforementioned God of War, she's wrong. You can absolutely do that. I'm basically a cat; pat my head and I'll be your loyal servant for… five minutes, give or take?"

[ikeuki]

four-letter word / 니키

( pairing ) nishimura riki x fem!reader ✶ highschool au, one-sided enemies to ??? ; fluff/crack, cursing — ( wordcount ) ?

ᯓ★ ikueki’s note. based off of tom’s monologue in ‘500 days of summer’ when talking about “hating” summer! this fic is from my old stranger things acc: @scwheeler (IT IS MY OLD ACC / MY WRITING) it was for mike wheeler originally…!

synopsis. riki can’t figure out his feelings towards you; he thinks he hates you but is it really hatred if he can’t get you out of his mind?

nishimura riki hates you.

he stared from across the classroom, watching you with crossed legs and back straight. you tapped your number two pencil on the wooden desk repeatedly, making a quiet yet annoying sound. it bothered him so much, only adding to the mental list of things he hated about you.

rather than staring now he was glaring. but he sat behind you and a couple rows over which meant you didn’t even notice. continuing to annoy him without a single thought.

he pressed down his pencil into his notebook until the lead snapped, making him also snap out of this trance. he looked down at his empty paper with a dark lead circle in the middle. he ripped out the sheet and crumpled it up, debating whether to throw it at your head or into the trash can.

he probably had a better chance shooting it at your head than landing it in the trash can according to his sports record but he refrained because your hair looked nice neat.

riki wasn’t suddenly choosing to be sympathetic or anything but he wasn’t a complete asshole.

or he thought of himself not to be. it must’ve taken you all morning for those bouncy curls and he knows how mad his sisters get when riki occupies the bathroom for more than thirty minutes before school. so he kept the crumpled paper and shoved it in his backpack, agreeing he’d either throw it to your head another day or throwing it away at the end of class.

“mr. nishimura—! i asked you a question, what is the answer to the question on the board?” the teacher asked in a stern tone, hands on his hips and trying to get riki’s unbothered attention.

riki quickly looked away from you, hoping you didn’t see him staring straight at the back of your head. you turned around from your seat to look at him as did the rest of the class.

he was out of it—a little preoccupied with thinking about something else, more of someone else.

his paper was blank. other than the crumpled up one he just shoved in his backpack. did he have notes on that page?before he could mutter an excuse or guess and pray to the gods he was right, a hand rose up in front of him.

it was yours…?

your arm popped up and attracted the teachers attention. “yes, ms. y/l/n?” he asked, now trailing his burning eyes away from riki and softening them towards you. unbelievable.

“if riki can’t answer it, i’d gladly do it myself,” you replied softly.

you didn’t speak in a sarcastic or rude manner. riki almost wished you did so then he would have a reason to hate you. but your tone was sincere like you wanted to help him.

“sure that would be great, go ahead,” the teacher proceeded and let you come up to the board. you took your notebook with you, it was covered in bright stickers and shiny gems matching your appearance.

riki watched as you sat up from your desk, the school uniform clinging to your body to fit your slight curves. he could’ve sworn the uniform’s skirt was shorter than you had on.

wait what—! why was he looking at your body or your uniform, nevertheless your existence…!

you picked up the small white chalk and wrote down your answer, copying your equation from your notebook. the class watched but riki observed. he thought about how you saved his ass from getting yelled at the teacher. why? after finishing the equation, you went to return to your seat. but before sitting down, your eyes met riki’s, flashing a quick smile.

in the brief moment, riki looked at you stunned. you didn’t wait for his reaction though and turned back to the teacher’s lecture. he shook his head, whatever. he hated you.

——

i hate her crooked teeth.

——

if he hates you so much, why was he up at three in the morning still thinking about your stupid smile. your pearly white teeth almost blinding him in the middle of math class.

his eyebrows knitted together and his eyes pierced through the ceiling of his bedroom. what was your problem? you didn’t do this to any other person in the school? you left everyone else alone—his classmates, his friends, his enemies—so why did you chose him? was this a punishment?

riki groaned and flipped to his side to face his bedside table, looking at the alarm clock reading 4:27 now. he spent almost four hours just thinking about you and it infuriated him. he liked girls before, girls in his class, girls on the tv, girls in his favorite movies. but he never stayed up thinking about him until this late hour.

also, he liked those girls! they were pretty and hot! he didn’t find you attractive or anything, so what made you so different?

was it your smile? it wasn’t even that nice! he’s seen better smiles in the newspaper and he could say his mom has a better one. yet you were the only thing on his mind and riki couldn’t stand the feeling.

he turned left and right, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep but it was no help. by the time, his eyelids were finally about to shut, they were disturbed by the bright light of the sun coming up. he hated you so much.

——

i hate her 1960’s haircut.

——

the next day at school, riki slung his backpack over his shoulder and waited at his friend’s locker. he agreed to meet heeseung before soccer practice afterschool and it wasn’t the first time the older boy was running late. riki didn’t mind all that much. if anything it meant an excuse to be late for practice, especially since heeseung was the coach’s nephew.

the only unfortunate thing about going to his locker was that yours was right next to it.

he managed to avoid bumping into you almost everyday. weirdly enough he tracked down your exact schedule with classes, meet up with friends, and when you needed your mid day snacks to get through the day.

heeseung commented on it one time, saying his uncalled “hatred” for you seemed more and more like a crush instead. riki almost blow a fuse right then and there in the middle of the soccer field. heeseung hasn’t mentioned it ever since.

unlucky for riki, you were quite an unpredictable person. most of the time you were walking with your usual friends, stopping by your locker to get your bio and calc textbooks. but on the rare occasions you were alone, you spent the entire passing period leaning against the metal wall texting away on your little phone.

this forced riki to hide behind the corner, peering over from time to time like a creep to wait for you to leave. he was even late once or twice just going to his locker at you finally left when the bell rang.

when his teacher asked why his eyes slowly trailed to you, who stared back at him innocently. unknown that you were the reason why he was late and got detention, for the fourth time now.

he could only shut up and take the yellow slip from his teacher. sliding into his desk in the back and staring out into the window in annoyance. why did he need to avoid you?

today was worse. worse than riki could ever imagine. he headed for his locker after fifth period and watched as you walked down the hall to your cheer practice as you always did afterschool. again, a little weird how much riki knew about you. anyways. he hurried to his locker and put in the code, opening it quickly. he grabbed a couple of his textbooks needed for homework and his soccer bag.

as soon as he closed the locker door, he almost had a heart attack. you were standing right there with you back facing him looking into a small magnetic mirror attached to the door of your locker.

you were applying another layer of strawberry chapstick, the one you carried everywhere and put on during first period, third period, and right after lunch by your locker.

so he was definitely surprised to see you standing right in front of him, puckering your lips and looking into the mirror. completely oblivious of riki standing behind you with a shocked expression saying ‘what the fuck!’ you didn’t even notice him staring at you for a full on five minutes.

riki would never admit it but you weren’t such an eye sore as he tried to convince himself all last night.

you were actually nice to look at. well-rounded and cute features that complimented your face. your hair was right in front of his face, the fruity fresh scents of strawberry and peach shampoo filling up his senses. without him even knowing, riki’s frown turned into a small smile.

your perfectly formed curls with a white headband, all sitting nicely on your shoulders made you look like a character from a 60’s cartoon. they moved side to side as you checked yourself out in the mirror, putting riki into a trance. but he snapped out of it as you put the cap back on of your chapstick, signaling him to return to his main goal: get to practice on-time.

he kept his eyes forward and tried to play it cool. walking down the hall, he just prayed you didn’t catch him ogling you for the past ten minutes.

unfortunately, by the time he got to the field, the coach had already started warm-ups and without the excuse of heeseung’s presence, riki only earned the team four extra laps to run. which no one was happy to do. god—how much he hated you right now.

——

i hate her knobby knees.

——

heeseung informed riki that the whole soccer team was required to attend the school’s pep rally as a part of the athletics committee. wanting to spend his friday night off doing better things (aka playing video games in heeseung’s basement until four a.m.), he continuously urged his friend to sneak out.

“what if we just slip out during the principal’s speech?” riki suggested to an unamused heeseung who already accepted his fate.

“if we get caught—our asses are DONE FOR. my uncle’s gonna kill us and definitely tell my mom.” heeseung seemed dead serious about refusing riki’s request, leaving the younger boy to only sit on the bleachers and wait for the soccer team to be announced.

after what felt like hours of speeches and addresses by the principal, teachers, and staff, a bunch of school-color, short uniforms filled the gym. it was the school’s cheerleaders, girls and boys all wearing color coordinated uniforms with scarily happy smiles plastered on their faces.

a single face stood out to riki. one that’s been distracting him in class, keeping him up at night, and keeping him in the hallways. his eyes immediately fell upon you, disregarding the other twenty girls and guys wearing the same outfit. you were the only one that caught his eye and he couldn’t tell why. was it cause of the locker interaction earlier today?

you were skipping in with a cute grin on your face, those stupid pearly whites blinding riki once again. you had pom pom in your hands, waving your arms in the air and saying hi to the crowd.

you didn’t spare riki a glance even once, unintentionally of course—how could you see him in a sea of hundreds of students! but he didn’t mind. at least it meant he could stare at you the entire time the cheerleaders introduction was happening.

what surprised riki was that you walked to the center as everyone got into formation. you were center stage. your smile was warm and lit up an entire room, the entire crowd beginning to feed into every word you said. when you said “go—!” they said “—team!”

then music suddenly started to play and the cheerleaders started a routine. one that you guys probably practiced a million times before. riki could see the nervousness in your face, hiding behind that smile you held so proudly.

he noticed your knees, you had skin tone band-aids all over them. underneath were obviously bruises, cuts, maybe even scars. people might’ve thought they were ugly but riki couldn’t help looking at them.

not like he was a sadist or anything but the bruises made you look more real. like you weren’t just another carbon copy of these cheerleaders who had perfect lives and appearances like the girls surrounding you.

you were different. something about you gave riki a hint that there was more to you than being a shallow popular girl.

you wouldn’t make fun of the so-called losers with the jocks behind the science building during lunch, their cheerleadering girlfriends joining in just because they can. or disregard the entire meaning of attending school to just dance in a tight outfit and fluffy pom poms in front of the entire school.

no, you were nowhere near those areas during lunch, riki saw you spending the time in the classroom, taking a nap to catch some extra z’s before the last two classes of the day or listening to music and researching choreography for the cheerleaders. in class, you always participated. you paid attention and studied, even helping the other struggling students in your free time.

maybe it was the way you helped him yesterday morning, answering his question and cutting off the teacher’s potential wrath. or you simply smiling at him the moment after.

either way, he found himself clapping for you after you finished your dance, enjoying your performance and rather disappointed to find it so short. heeseung was confused, wasn’t riki just giving suggestions on how to sneak out of here five minutes ago? now he was smiling and clapping like his own girlfriend was out there dancing in front of the crowd?

why did you make riki feel this weird? this good feeling he had whenever he saw you? he had to force himself to hate you to avoid his true feelings from spilling out.

and then, riki realized what the indescribable feeling—that takes over him as a whole every moment he lays his eyes on you—really was. he didn’t hate you.

he hated how you made him feel.

[starboye]

johnny and ghost who are missionaries for their local church (basically someone who spreads the gospel and try to make people turn toward god) and they get sent to your house, aka the local femboy who flaunts their as like there's no tomorrow

getting a knock on your door and answering it to see to guys dressed in some slick pants and vests "high sir would you like to talk about our lord and savior jesus christ" and as much as you wanted to say no you couldn't just shut the door on the fine looking men

letting them in they saw the outfit you were in, a skirt with a crop top and some thigh high socks, but they couldn't get distracted by the sinful ways of the world so they pushed through and sat in the living room and started going on and on about how turning to god will do you some good from going to hell for eternity

"oh my god- sorry i mean gosh i should really read more into this let me go get some paper to write this down" you fake a genuine reaction and turn to get some paper but uh oh you "accidentally' split some water on the couch "oh my im such a clutz" you turn to wipe up the mess, perfectly bent over to show the men a perfect view of your lacy underwear you have on, they're such a pretty pink color aren't they?

and in seconds they have a hard on in their slacks and are trying to hide it with the bibles they have, lord forgive them, once you go get the paper you fake write down some notes as they continue talking, stumbling over some words until they finally finish "well i feel like i should give you my number just in case i have any questions right" you looked at them with the most seductive look, your bottom lip tucked in between your teeth

"yeah f-for sure" the one with the mohawk says and you write down your number, making sure to mark it with a little kiss just to make sure they remember you "you'll remember me right" you say sliding the note into the blonde hair guys hand "yes sir" they both look at you dumb founded as the stand up and inch their way to the door careful not to show their boner to you

"have a good day now boys" you say closing the door and now their struggling to think of what to do with the aching in their pants but trust they will defiently be calling you later tonight or better yet showing up at the door

[xxepherr]

.ೃ࿐JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY | FC43

summary — in which franco’s just been thrown into the glamorous world of formula 1, and as his slightly jealous partner, you don’t take all the people flirting with him too lightly

pairings — franco colapinto x princess!reader (established relationship)

pronouns — none explicitly, fem presenting

word count — 2090

note — i have another princess! reader thats been in the drafts for like two months but this one lowkey wins

YOU WEREN’T NECESSARILY THE jealous type. there were sprinkles of it growing up: jealous of those who had a normal life, jealous of the other kids who got to do whatever they wanted, and jealous of how no one seemed to want to hang out with you because you couldn’t really bring much to the table. 

you had a good life and a good upbringing, but you never really understood any of it until you were midway through your teenage years. that’s when the weight of being in a royal family hit. but even then, and still now, why did it matter so much when your older brother was the crown prince anyway? and how his eventual children would be in line for the throne before you? 

you weren’t jealous of that at least, despite only having turned twenty-one this year, you didn’t want the throne at all. you wanted to go do things, see things, not have more responsibilities held over your head. that was the life your brother wanted, a life he was already accepting; it certainly wasn’t for you.

meeting franco colapinto for the first time at thirteen was probably the reason your whole trajectory changed. he was so carefree, happy, free to do as he pleased — you couldn't do that. you couldn’t remember why you had ended up at some karting championship in copenhagen now, but you were glad you did. you met him there, talked to him there, and he embarrassed himself with not knowing how to greet you there. you’d giggled, telling him he didn’t actually have to greet you with a bow like how they do it in the movies, and that was that.

you’d met him again at fifteen, and he hadn’t exactly learnt from his past mistakes . . . not that you minded. uttering a “i did some research” with a cheeky wink and a kiss to the back of your hand, your face had flushed a pink so bright that it had your mother thinking you’d come down with a sudden fever. it was sweet, he’d slipped you his email on a small tear-off bit of paper that he had prepared ahead of time, and you’d replied with the number that directed to the landline beside your bedside table. six months later, you were dating. 

YOU considered that maybe there was a little bit of jealousy bubbling up in your stomach when franco got his seat in formula one. you were so excited that he had finally achieved his dream that you’d turned the cottage you lived in together into a mini celebration: you made breakfast with a side of wine, then hopped on a plane to buenos aires so that he could go see his family about it. 

the one thing you had not expected was just how much he would be loved in the sport . . . by teenage girls. and girls your age. and journalists. and literally anyone who thought he was attractive. he had personality and was so much fun to talk to, but oh my god you did not think that the whole of the internet would start livetweeting about how they wanted to fuck him. 

in all fairness, they didn’t know about the two of you. it was fairly easy to hide when they had such a secluded cottage on royal grounds. your relationship was coming into its seventh year soon, you’d gotten engaged in january, and somehow it was still a secret with how much you two were public figures. 

it had been a few races too many now, and if anything, it had only gotten worse. maybe you were jealous because you hadn’t seen franco since he left for singapore, and the mexican grand prix had just ended. the only thing stopping you from going to instagram and posting a shit ton of photos and videos of you and franco together was the fact that you had just landed in brazil to see him now that you weren’t busy. 

you’d gotten good at the whole lowkey thing after years laying low as a royal trying to go out on dates with franco. all you had to do was toss on one of franco’s hoodies, pull the hood up over your head, and make sure you walked inconspicuously on your own. the bodyguards you had to have with you all dressed super casually also and trailed behind and in front a reasonable distance away until you were outside the airport and loading your bags into the back of a range rover. 

you dropped the hood the second you hopped into the backseat of the car, immediately launching yourself at your fiancé before the door was shut. franco laughed as he peppered delicate kisses across your face, each one more frantic than the last like you would disappear if he were to let go. you vaguely heard the door shut with thanks to the bodyguard walking around to the front seat of the car, and you made a mental note to thank him the moment you were all caught up with franco. “i missed you,” his tone was heavily accented in that voice that you loved so much, that voice that sounded so much better in person than it did in terrible quality over the phone.

“missed you more,” you mumbled softly, breathing in the subtle note of vanilla from his soap underneath the familiar cologne he always wore. you knew that the sooner you fastened your seatbelt, the faster you’d be driven to the hotel, so you hastily clipped it across you and snuggled back into franco’s side. “we are having words when we get out of this car,” you mumbled.

franco’s eyebrows furrowed, “we are?” he asked, and he felt you nod against his side. “right, we are.”

IT WAS NICE TO feel normal again. being with franco equalled feeling like you were a completely other person. you kept him separate and would be until you were married — he obviously didn’t accompany you to family events or royal appearances because you’d worked a deal out with your parents years ago to keep things private just until you were absolutely sure you were spending your life with him. his first public appearance would be your january wedding under glittering snowflakes. 

you were ready to break normal. the feeling had been crawling under your skin for months now, ever since he was called overnight out to italy and kickstarted his new career in being an international heartthrob who everyone was convinced was a playboy bachelor. he was nothing of the sort when he was currently cuddling into your side in his hotel room, half-asleep and trailing his fingertips up and down your thigh. 

“i don’t like seeing what people say about you online, you know,” you dared to finally bring up, months of jealousy trying to break free in your tone. franco could hear remnants of it clear as day, even in his tired state. “i can’t even say anything.”

he knew you weren’t dependent on your phone, it was only ever when he was away that you constantly had it on you to call, text and check F1 updates on twitter. at this point, the whole reason you had a phone was for him. of course you were in tune with what people were saying about him online. did you enjoy watching the tiktok edits people made? yes. that did not help your case in the slightest, though. “aw, baby,” he hummed, “what would you say?”

“that you’re my fiancé,” the label was still so new, so warm across your tongue. franco’s smile was immediate at the sound of it. “not theirs.”

“aw,” he cooed, “is someone a little jealous?” you groaned instantly, moving to push away from him. franco quickly sprung like some kind of trap, suddenly so awake as he wrapped his strong arms around you to hold you in place. “you are!” he laughed. “you are jealous!”

“. . . maybe,” you admitted, caving a little quicker than you liked. “it is hard not to be, no? look at all the attention you get from everyone else while i sit at home and have to watch.”

it had always been a difficult situation, he experienced the same jealousy on occasion, too. whenever you’d go to events with your family and were greeted by other nobles close in age to you or you were overly polite at fundraisers and celebrations, he saw it all when he turned on the tv or simply went online. it was so simple: your relationship wasn’t public – really, it was your own collective fault.

“we won’t have to deal with this for much longer,” he mumbled, and you felt each exhale brush through your hair; a soothing lullaby for you only. “january isn’t too far—”

“i don’t want to wait,” the words tumbled from your lips before you could even think about them. “i know we talked about it . . . but what if we just— just, i don’t know,” you stuttered uncharacteristically, shyly. you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this way. “i don’t know.”

“you do,” franco kept his voice low, a gentle murmur that had you melting into his embrace impossibly further. “talk to me.”

your mouth fell open and then closed, then did it once more. you supposed it couldn’t be anymore embarrassing than that one time you had to admit that you liked him in front of four middle-aged bodyguards in a playground. that had been bad. this should be nothing. “i don’t want to hide anymore.�� franco remained silent. “i want to hold your hand like . . . like how lily and alex get to,” it was the first example to come to mind, having seen them through lily’s account on instagram last grand prix. “but,” you quickly added, “if you don’t want to—”

“of course i want to,” franco chuckled to himself, “i wanted the privacy for you more than i wanted it for me.” he admitted it in a way that you knew wasn’t meant to make you feel guilty, but you couldn’t really help but feel your heart sink a little in your chest. 

franco could feel the sudden drop, your souls intertwined long ago. “. . . that sounded terrible, i know,” he poked his fingers into your side, pulling gasped giggles from you. “but you’re technically more famous than i am,” there was subtle tease in his tone among the seriousness, “i wanted what was best for you, you know that.”

“mhm,” you hummed in thought, tapping your fingers against his. “i just don’t think i can wait anymore. i want to watch you in person, especially while you are at williams now. i don’t want to miss it.” you were his second biggest fan behind his family, and who knows when he would get the chance to drive a formula one car again? if you missed this now, you’d never forgive yourself for it. 

“okay,” he nodded, very chill about the whole thing. it wasn’t surprising, you knew he didn’t mind in the slightest. exposing your relationship just meant that he got to show you off to the world as if he were the luckiest man alive. showing you off to his close friends and family wasn’t enough anymore, and here you were giving him the chance. “how do you want to do this?”

the one thing you sadly couldn’t do was just show up with him when he was at the track. you sadly had to have at least two people with you for protection as your parents wished, and so more arrangements would have to be made and it would be a whole bigger deal than it should be. 

“hm . . .” you thought, trailing off as your hand slowly inched towards where your phone was sitting on the bedside table. “i have an idea.”

“can you do it later?” franco asked with a tired smile, sitting up to pull the blankets over the two of you and settling his neck to rest against your neck. “i want your attention now.”

“mhm, my love,” you turned your head to press a gentle kiss to the top of his head, his soft curls tickling your lips. “get some sleep, i love you.”

“i love you more,” his voice reverberated against your skin, rumbling through into your chest. “so, so much more . . .” he trailed off into slow breathing, falling into an instantaneous sleep — the sleep he only managed to get when you were tucked safely into his side.

princessofdenmark: can u guys pls stop hitting on my fiancé now

[ar-ghilas-vir-banal]

I agree with all of this. I was literally thinking last night: “why is ROOK leading?” But I think I know why, kinda? At least this is the slapped together theory I’ve got at present.

All these people are super powerful and/or skilled. You’re competent. Sorta. You’re not the best and you’re not the worst; your backstory is always one of “you did the right thing but everyone is mad at you for it, so you’re not with your original group. Right now.”

These powerful, skilled people are also embroiled in their own messes SO HARD that they don’t know what to do or can’t even get out.

Your job as Rook is to focus these other people together into a team. I think this is supposed to reflect how Mythal was the one who basically held the Evanuris in check, or at least she attempted to. She was known as the mother. The nurturer. And what else do you do as Rook except nurture these people. I legitimately feel mother vibes with Taash when I talk to them.

Equally, I feel like you’re the Spirit of Wisdom for each of your companions. They hang on your words. For HUGE decisions about their lives. They come to you for advice. They let you into their lives. You’re not one of them but you may as well be. You’re important to them.

Your role can vacillate between a Mythal archetype or a Solas (Wisdom) one for much of the game. Even to Solas. Even to the Inquisitor. Your advice guides each of these people. While for the world it might not be a huge thing, it is for them. If you’d encouraged Harding to go with her anger, she’d have survived, but think of the long run.

You can convince Emmrich to save Manfred, or become a lich. Which he says he wants. Yet he grieves his little friend horribly in private, and doesn’t come accept death as a natural part of life as a lich. Death, which he’s supposed to have understood. Also… who’s to say the lich’s stay benevolent???

And then for Solas himself, you can cast him into an oblivion of turmoil forever. Or you can MEND HIS WOUNDS and help him heal not only your world but the Fade. If that’s not the ultimate nurturing gesture, idk what is. The fact you can also turn Solas’ betrayal of you, as Mythal can, into an opportunity to redeem him… that’s pretty impressive. You make all of this happen.

Anyhow. I think that’s what they were shooting for? Is it well executed… ehhh. Sometimes. Maybe. It’s really up to the individual. But ultimately you’re not the radiant hero. You’re the person who kept it all GOING. You’re the person upon whom all the “gods” depended. And if that’s why Varric chose Room, then he chose well.

What’s really jumping out at me on my second playthrough is that the writers of the first three games understood that your character was the main character. The Veilguard writers clearly thought that the main characters were their characters, the companions.

Every scene is about setting the companions up as cool or competent or sympathetic. Often, this is done at Rook’s expense. The companions get all the witty one-liners; Rook’s attempts at humor not only frequently fall flat, but are frequently called out for falling flat (even when they’re completely automatic and the player has no say in them).

The companions have all the knowledge and skills; Rook just brought them all together and gives them all pep talks so they can focus. I’m trying to edit out all of the comments where Rook is like “Um… what????” from my videos, and let me tell you, it takes WORK. There are A LOT of them. I can count on one hand the number of times when the Inquisitor or Hawke comes across as dumb, but it seems to be a built-in, unavoidable part of Rook’s character. I have not selected a single “purple” option in all of Act 1, and Rook is still coming across as the kid who tries to be the class clown to cover for the fact that he’s always confused. Rook’s role in most scenes is to say “Uhhh… what?” so that the companions look smart.

Rook is always the one offering sympathy and never the one getting it. No one actually comes to comfort you after Varric’s death. No one asks you how you’re feeling about having to lead the team now that Varric is gone. No one tries to reassure you or give you advice for dealing with the trickster god haunting your dreams. We’re told that Neve could keep Solas out of your head, but she never actually offers to do this for you. No one comforts a Shadow Dragon Rook when Minrathous is destroyed or a Grey Warden Rook when Weisshaupt is destroyed. Rook’s problems don’t matter. Only the problems of main characters matter.

Rook is a secondary character in their own story.

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | January 6th-19th 2025

I hope everyone had a good start of the year! You're getting two weeks of fics because ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Enjoy!

Complete

Buck Naked by disasterbuck/ @disasterbuck (Getting Together | <1K | Teen): Buck turned, slicking his wet hair back, and then yelped and covered himself comically with his hands when he saw Eddie standing there. "Eddie!" he exclaimed, his face turning red. "I'm naked!" "Obviously," Eddie replied. - Eddie finds it difficult to talk about his feelings because it always leaves him far too vulnerable and exposed. So, when he finally decides it's time to tell Buck how he feels, he has a plan to get them both on equal footing.

Wish you'd ask me (If I wanna be your baby) by paleredheadinascifi (Getting Together | 2K | Teen): “So, uh, you come here often?” “Do I come here often?” Buck repeats slowly. He does come here often. As does Eddie. They both come here all the time, at the same time, together. Or, why ask someone out on a date when you can just take them on one without their knowledge? Sounds flawless to Eddie.

the long way back by jaekyu (PWP, Post-S8 AU | 6K | Explicit): Eddie and Buck get trapped in a closet. There's a joke in here somewhere.

I want you so (god must be the greatest comedian I know) by paleredheadinascifi (Post-S8A, Eddie Moves to Texas | 6K | Teen): But that’s Eddie. You knew all that. You knew we’d find him sitting alone, in his rented, unfurnished house in El Paso, Texas — equally 7 and 700 miles away from the only places he’d ever call home, the only people he’d ever call family. You probably also knew, because you’re more observant than Eddie, and I mentioned it at the start, that Eddie Diaz was in the middle of a sexuality crisis that he swears came out of nowhere. We’re gonna let him have it, because he’s going through a lot right now. Eddie is learning, as many do, that there are five stages of the sexuality crisis. When we find him sitting alone in his sad unfurnished house, he’s freshly greeting stage one.

I'll be His and He'll be Mine by xylodemon/ @xylodemon (Post-S8 Future Fic, Friends to Fiancés | 6K | Explicit) "And now, in as much as you, Evan Buckley and Edmundo Diaz, have given and pledged your love and faithfulness, each to the other, and have declared the same by joining hands, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the State of California as Deputy Marriage Commissioner, I now pronounce you spouses for life." "You're crying." "You're crying." Christopher sighs under his breath. "You're both crying."

Do I Get To Have This? by EiraLloyd (Post-Poker Game Date, Getting Together | 6K | Teen): Their missing clothes and the fact that Eddie was currently using him as a human pillow were the only evidence that Buck's memories of the night before were real. Wildly, his first thought after replaying everything in his head was, This is not good one-night stand etiquette. I should’ve left already. “You’re thinking too loud,” Eddie mumbled, breath ghosting over Buck’s collarbone in a way that reminded him a lot of dim lights and couches and I’ve wanted to do this all night. (Alternatively, Buck and Eddie hook up after the poker game in 6x13, and Buck has a hard time believing it when he wakes up the next morning.)

Hopelessly Devoted To You by scarmaddiewrites (Friends to Fiancés | 7K | Teen): “Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. He felt his heart lurch in his chest, and he didn’t know why. He had no idea what he was planning to say—Good morning, maybe, or How was your night? Something normal, something casual. But when Buck looked up at him, that grin growing impossibly wider, his blue eyes sparkling like the ocean, Eddie blurted out something entirely unexpected.” Or Eddie goes from 0-100 real quick

can't hide from you by EiraLloyd (Post-S6E12: Recovery, Getting Together | 7K | Teen): Eddie keeps smiling at his phone like a lovesick fool whenever a certain person messages him. Hen, Chimney, Pepa, and Christopher all want to know when Eddie started dating again and who his new girlfriend is. (Or, three times someone wrongly assumes Eddie is texting a girlfriend when it’s just Buck, and one time someone rightly assumes Eddie is texting a boyfriend (and it’s Buck).)

the phone keeps ringing by EiraLloyd (Post-S7 AU, BuckTommy Break-Up, Buddie Getting Together | 7K | Teen): “Took you long enough,” she says in an icy tone. Her name tag reads Dot. “Do you usually make your boyfriend wait for you overnight?” “I’m not his boyfriend,” he says, voice equally icy. “I’m the guy who drove five hours to pick him up when the boyfriend—” ditched him. He manages to swallow back the words, not wanting to air Buck’s business to a stranger, but he can’t help but think, If I were Buck’s boyfriend, this wouldn’t have happened at all. (Or, after a date with Tommy goes wrong, Buck ends up stranded in Las Vegas without a way home. Eddie makes the drive in the middle of the night because there's never really been another option.)

I Know They’ll Be Coming To Find Me Soon by scarmaddiewrites (Post-S8A Spec, Kidnapping | 10K | Teen): The day Buck is supposed to drop Eddie off at the airport, he’s doesn’t show, and Eddie takes that as a sign that their friendship was over. That just doesn’t end up being the case. Or The Buck gets kidnapped season 8b speculation fic

Love Me Most by EiraLloyd (Post-S7E5: You Don't Know Me | 11K | Teen): Or, Eddie’s not impressed that Buck and Tommy’s first date was supposed to be dinner and a movie. He thinks he can come up with something more creative, and he takes Buck on a date to prove his point. It’s a fake date, obviously. It’s not like he’s in love with Buck or anything.

🔥 Next to your heartbeat, where I should be by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Post-S8E8: Wannabes, Sexting | 11K | Explicit): Eddie’s not a complete idiot. He knows this isn’t normal. He stands in front of a mirror in his underwear, the tightest pair he owns, and he poses for a picture at an angle he’s learned flatters his ass and the curve of his thigh, to send to his best friend. He knows this isn’t what most best friends do. He also knows most straight guys don’t spend extensive amounts of time staring at men’s thirst trap accounts, or thinking about how their best friends look half-naked, but… That’s not what Eddie is focusing on right now. He’s just focusing on feeling good, following the path that sparkles with joy, and refusing to overthink it. If happiness is Buck sending a meme of a guy with a nosebleed back to his shirtless selfie, then that’s what happiness is. Eddie has spent too long denying himself to let this be what stops his journey towards loving himself. It doesn’t need to make sense. It just needs to be positive. It’s not like he’s breaking any commandments, as Father Brian would say.

🔥 Kept On Swimming by EiraLloyd (Time Loop, Tsunami | 12K | Mature): He just needs someone to know that he tried. He needs someone to acknowledge that—that he did everything he could, and—and he tried. He might’ve failed, but he tried. He tried, he tried, he tried, he tried— Eddie swallows and asks, “How many times?” Buck stares. He lived through it once; that’s normal. He lived through it twice; maybe a déjà-vu or a hallucination of some kind or even a premonition. But three times— It has to be a time loop. Surely. (Or, Buck is trapped in a time loop on the day the Santa Monica Pier is hit by a tsunami. He makes it count.)

🔥 the forms of things unknown by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (Sex Pollen, PWP | 13K | Explicit): Buck's mind goes blank: suddenly and perfectly blank like a briskly shaken Etch A Sketch, the tracks of his thoughts swept clean. Eddie's mouth is on his. Eddie's nose bumps his nose, and his stubble rasps, and Eddie is kissing him. And this is probably a bad idea. The thought surfaces briefly. This is probably a bad idea. They don't do this. They haven't talked about this. Until thirty seconds ago, he was perfectly certain that Eddie was straight.

The Elephant in the Room Never Forgets by exvichan (Post-S8A AU, Camping Trip, Getting Together | 19K | Teen): Secrets are spilled and truths brought to light when the 118 and their partners go on a camping trip. Oh, and there’s malaphors. Lots of malaphors.

🔥 the sweetest apparition by hyruling/ @hyruling (Post-S8E8: Wannabes, Eddie Moves to Texas | 20K | Explicit): Buck glances over his shoulder and smiles. “Sorry, lost in thought.” “I would be too looking at a man that handsome,” she says with a glance at his phone as they move up. “Your partner?” Buck feels his cheeks heat. What the hell – Eddie isn’t here to hear him, probably wouldn’t care anyway. It’s easier than explaining the truth to this stranger. “Yeah.” “And he sent you to do all the Christmas shopping alone?” she teases with a grin. “Oh, no he’s, uh – he’s gone.” --- Or: Eddie moves to Texas. Buck keeps accidentally telling people Eddie's dead. It goes about as well as you'd expect.

waiting for it (that green light) by pinkdoughnut (Drinking Games, Getting Together | 26K | General): “You don’t need to explain yourself,” Buck assured him, wishing more than ever that he could crawl out of his own skin. “I didn’t mean to push. I was just going along with the game—” “No, it just wasn’t meant to be like this,” Eddie groaned out finally. Buck sucked in a sharp breath, freezing in his step. “Like this?” Buck repeated carefully as he tilted his head slightly. “What… what does that mean?” - Or, Buck and Eddie finally realize they can’t keep pretending during a game of True American.

🔥 Finding Mr Christmas by JJK/@trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Canon Divergent, Reality TV, Christmas | 63K | Teen): "Welcome to Finding Mr Christmas! You’re all here chasing the same dream, to star in a Hallmark Christmas movie, and over the next few weeks we’re going to be putting you through your paces to see which of you has the most star quality and that ‘it’ factor that makes you shine above the rest." 🎄🎄🎄 An AU where Buck and Eddie meet as contestants on Hallmark's Finding Mr Christmas competition (and fall for each other).

WIP

🔥 there is no road by littleghost/ @ghostlandtoo (Post-S8A, Eddie moves to Texas | 4/6 | 58K | Explicit): Years ago, almost a full decade, Shannon had asked him to move and Eddie refused because he was trying to build a life for himself again. Eddie knows if he asks Buck, he’ll get that same refusal. Worse, Buck could say yes and Eddie would be uprooting Buck from the very life he built for himself. He doesn’t ask, and Buck doesn’t offer, and they pack up Eddie Diaz’s life in Los Angeles into cardboard boxes. Or: Eddie moves to Texas. Buck buys his house. There’s a love story somewhere in here.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, Divergent Post-S6 | 143/145 | 463K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

🔥 Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 11/? | 69K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

🔥 Firelight by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Post-S7, Monster Eddie, HOH Buck | 8/10 | 47K | Explicit): When, in the worst of missing Christopher, Eddie suddenly finds himself having literally turned into a monster, Buck - who is also dealing with a newfound hearing loss diagnosis - is willing to do anything to protect him. Even from himself. OR: Eddie is a creature from Swedish folklore, feat. HOH!Buck

[Podfic] What's love got to do with it? by Pretzel26 // fic by ColorMeParanoid/ @color-me-paranoid (Platonic Boyfriends to Lovers | 2/30 | 10-20min | Mature): "Hear me out," Buck said. "Clearly, both of us are sick of dating other people. And we're a good fit, in pretty much every way that matters. So what if we're not in love? We don't need to be in love to be happy together." Eddie frowned. "So basically, we'd be boyfriends, without benefits?" "Yes!" Buck snapped his fingers. "Like platonic boyfriends! We'd get all the benefits of a relationship and none of the heartbreak." And maybe Eddie had finally lost his mind, or maybe it was from all the alcohol clouding his judgment, but the idea of it didn't sound half as crazy as it should have. *** After Buck’s and Eddie’s dates both end with disasters – proving once again that maybe dating just wasn’t meant for them – they decide to simply settle for each other. If there was one person in the world they'd ever trust with their hearts, it was each other. And who was a better person to date other than your very own best friend?

Podfic

[podfic] Starlight by half_bakedboy/ @half-bakedboy (Post-S7, Gewtting Together | 20-30min | General): On a rare, starry summer night, Buck and Eddie discuss what ifs and make decisions about their future.

🔥 [Podfic] rainbows have nothing to hide by slipofthetongue/ @burnthatbridge for hattalove/ @hattalove (Getting Together | 20-30 min | Teen): how is eddie diaz like kermit the frog? let buck and christopher count the ways. (Part 1 of the kermit verse)

🔥 [Podfic] Before the Night Fades by slipofthetongue/ @burnthatbridge // fic by MilenaDaniels/ @milenadaniels (Post-S4E14: Survivors, Outsider POV | 45-60 min | Teen): “I have a bottle of champagne, four champagne flutes, one engagement ring to go into one of those champagne flutes, and a note to deliver it all to table 34 with dessert,” Tomas explains, wide-eyed, throwing his hand back to the prep station where said champagne is waiting on ice next to four flutes and a small ring box. “Okay?” “Okay so there’s two men and two women and I have no idea who’s getting proposed to. I’m not even 100% on who came with who." --- Or, EddieAna and BuckTaylor double date and it ruins everyone's night.

[Podfic] We're In This Together Now by fleurdebeton // fic by kristen999/ @thekristen999 (Major Character Injury | 20-30min | Not Rated): It was like walking into the world’s more confusing chemistry lab. There were long tables crowded with glassware, cookware, funnels, propane tanks, and tubing. Industrial sized glass bottles filled with various liquids were haphazardly scattered across the room. Eddie stared while Buck cautiously walked around one of the tables. They were inside a freaking meth lab. No, they were inside a ticking time bomb. Any of the bottles or barrels could contain any number of risks. Solvents, metals, bases, acids… “Looks like someone’s seen too many episodes of Breaking Bad,” Buck whispered.

[podfic] Starlight by half_bakedboy/ @half-bakedboy // fic by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Post-S7,Getting Together | 20-30min | General): On a rare, starry summer night, Buck and Eddie discuss what ifs and make decisions about their future.

🔥 [Podfic] Breathe by slipofthetongue/ @burnthatbridge // fic by kitkatpancakestack/ @kitkatpancakestack (Different First Meeting AU | 3-3.5h | Mature): After Eddie Diaz has a breakdown in the middle of a grocery store, he's forced to face the fact that he might not be dealing with his PTSD as well as he thought. At the urging of his aunt, he leaves to spend the summer in a small California beach town, where he meets a bright-eyed, blond-haired surf instructor who reminds him what it feels like to be alive.

Re-Read

🔥 [Podfic] rainbows have nothing to hide by slipofthetongue/ @burnthatbridge for hattalove/ @hattalove (Getting Together | 20-30 min | Teen): how is eddie diaz like kermit the frog? let buck and christopher count the ways. (Part 1 of the kermit verse)

🔥 [Podfic] Before the Night Fades by slipofthetongue/ @burnthatbridge // fic by MilenaDaniels/ @milenadaniels (Post-S4E14: Survivors, Outsider POV | 45-60 min | Teen): “I have a bottle of champagne, four champagne flutes, one engagement ring to go into one of those champagne flutes, and a note to deliver it all to table 34 with dessert,” Tomas explains, wide-eyed, throwing his hand back to the prep station where said champagne is waiting on ice next to four flutes and a small ring box. “Okay?” “Okay so there’s two men and two women and I have no idea who’s getting proposed to. I’m not even 100% on who came with who." --- Or, EddieAna and BuckTaylor double date and it ruins everyone's night.

[heestoleurgirl]

park jay 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ in which your boyfriend finally returns from tour, you missed him so much (non-idol au)

genre: fluff pairing: rockstar bf!jay x fem!reader wc: 2.2k

consider this my proposal to @s1rawb3rry <3

masterlist 𖤐.ᐟ

You haven’t felt this excited in a while. Today was the day Jay would be coming home, you’d missed him so much and you were practically buzzing with nerves ever since you woke up. Of course, the two of you had texted every day while he was on tour, but it was never quite the same as seeing him in person. The photos of him made you smile while simultaneously causing your heart to ache slightly. 

You knew he’d be really exhausted so you took it upon yourself to spoil him today. The house was cleaned spotless, the old, dead flowers in the kitchen were replaced with fresh ones. To top it all off, you’d spent the majority of the day in the kitchen, cooking his favourite food. His meals hadn’t been the best while he was away, since his schedule was so tight and he didn’t have access to a proper kitchen for the most part.

All you had to do now was wait, which sounded easy enough in theory. It wasn’t that simple, especially when every minute felt like a painfully long hour. How could you have survived a month if you couldn’t even wait a few minutes? You tried to busy yourself with whatever useless task you came up with, like wiping the counter for the third time that day.

The faint click of the doorknob being turned grabbed your attention immediately, your body was instantly flooded with adrenaline. The damp cloth in your hand was discarded in the blink of an eye as you rushed to the front door. There he was, closing the door behind him with some difficulty since he had a few bags in his hands. You smiled so wide your cheeks hurt, and hurried to help him with his baggage.

જ⁀➴ more under the cut!

You didn’t care to be very gentle, practically taking the stuff from his hands and throwing them aside. Jay’s face lit up when he realized you were right there, it still felt a bit surreal to finally be with you again. Apart from his guitar case, all his things were carelessly shoved aside in an instant. He didn’t bother to take his leather jacket off, he opened his arms for you right away.

“Jay!” you exclaimed as you jumped into his arms, throwing yours around his neck and hugging him so tightly. His familiar scent filled your nose, which made your heart swell with affection even more if that was possible.

“I missed you so much baby.” Jay eagerly returned the hug, pulling you flush against his chest while his hands rested on your lower back. His exhaustion felt insignificant right now.

“I’m never letting you leave again.” You joked, giggling when he squeezed your waist in response.

“Nah, next time you’re coming with me. I need my biggest fan to support me in person.”

God, you’d missed his voice so much. It sounded even better when he wasn’t talking through the phone. The thought of joining him on tours sounded like a dream come true, you weren’t sure you’d be able to survive another month (or more) without him. 

You reluctantly pulled away, not taking your eyes off his handsome face that you missed so much. He smiled at you softly, similarly admiring your sparkly eyes and enjoying the way your hand moved to cup the side of his face with endless care. 

You stood on your tiptoes to be able to kiss him properly. Jay leaned down to meet your lips, kissing you with a deep sense of need and love. He missed your lips against his, the kiss made his mind go blank. Your heart beat faster at the contact you’d been daydreaming about for so long. Your lips moved together in a languid way, both of you savouring the feeling of each other. Though you wanted to hold onto him and kiss him for the rest of the night, you knew he was probably tired and hungry. So after a few minutes, you unwillingly detached your pink lips from his soft ones. 

“I made dinner, come on.” You grabbed his hand and made your way to the kitchen, where everything was already prepared neatly.

“Wow, darling… you didn’t have to.” He was astonished with your effort, and seeing that you did all this just for him made him feel like he was falling in love with you again. His dazed state was cut short as he felt you ushering him to sit down. The smile never left his face, you were so endearing when you were taking care of him like this. 

“Don’t say dumb things, of course I had to. You need to eat properly, especially after being so busy and overworked.” You took a seat next to him, wanting to be as close as possible because even his presence was incredibly soothing.

There was no point in arguing with you and Jay was well aware of that. Not that he didn’t like you looking after him, it was just an urge for him to make sure you never had to break a sweat for anything. He loved spoiling you too much.

“Thank you.” 

You smiled in response before the room fell into comfortable silence as you both started eating together. Jay was so glad to finally have a proper meal, especially his favourite food made by his favourite person.

“Love, this is so good. You’re an amazing cook.” He hummed, closing his eyes as he savoured the taste.

“Really? I tried a new recipe.” You responded while stabbing at the meat with your fork. “How was your trip home?”

Jay thought for a moment before telling you about his day. You listened intently, feeling happy that he was right next to you. You paid attention to his every word, but also took it as an opportunity to adore him at the same time. Even if it was something simple like having dinner with him and talking about each other’s day, the moment felt really special to you. That’s probably why you were grinning like an idiot.

“What-?” Jay raised an eyebrow in slight confusion as he met your eyes.

“Nothing, I just missed you so much” You shook your head and laughed, standing up to take your empty plates to the sink. He followed after you with the leftovers, grabbing some empty containers while you washed the dishes. 

“Wanna take a shower?” You tensed for a moment, caught off guard by his arms snaking around your waist as he hugged you from behind. His tall frame enveloped yours completely, blocking some of the light from the ceiling lamps.

“Sure, give me a second.”

“I feel sweaty and disgusting, you deserve a clean boyfriend.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes at his comment, sweat was not something that bothered you much, even more so when you had been deprived of him for too long. It was safe to say your relationship was past the point where either of you would be embarrassed about such insignificant and normal things. Once you were done with the dishes and dried your hands, Jay spun you around and placed a brief kiss on your lips. He chuckled at the evident disappointment on your face when he pulled away, even though he felt the same way.

The floorboards creaked faintly as you both made your way upstairs, grabbing some shower essentials from the bedroom. His hand was holding yours, pulling you along with him while you talked about random things.

The door closed behind you and you started taking your clothes off, unaware of his appreciative gaze watching you strip. If he wasn't so tired right now, he would definitely have other plans than just showering together with you. You suddenly caught him staring and playfully narrowed your eyes, to which he merely grinned before undressing too.

Jay followed as you stepped into the shower and turned it on. The warm water felt so good against your skin, it was soothing and comfortable. Not even a moment later he was already pulling you against his body again. The hug felt so much more intimate when you were both naked, like there was nothing separating the two of you from each other. Your head was resting against his chest, your eyes closed as you felt his hands caress your sides oh so gently.

The humid air only served to relax you both even more. All you wanted was this moment to last forever, just you and him with no distractions or obligations.

"I love you, my darling." He broke the silence and kissed the top of your head affectionately.

You swore your heart was going to burst with the amount of love you had for this man. "I love you too." You tilted your head to look up at him, letting him see the raw sincerity in your eyes.

He smiled back at you soflty and moved to grab the shower gel. Your gaze followed him curiously, watching as he wet the loofah and faced you.

"turn around." The gentleness in his tone gave you goosebumps, you obeyed silently without question.

Jay began rubbing your neck, shoulders and back, cleaning your body like it was the most precious thing in his world. It felt nothing short of amazing as your boyfriend cared for you so willingly, helping you with something you could've done yourself too.

When he was done, he turned you around and repeated his actions again. No part of your body was left untouched by his loving hands. All you could do was stand there and wonder how on earth you managed to get the most amazing guy on the entire planet.

Jay reached for the shower head and angled it, letting the water wash off all the soap from your skin. Once he was done, you kissed his cheek and took the loofah from his hand, indicating that it was your turn to return the favour. His hands were placed on your hips lazily as you started massaging the soap into his skin.

In moments like these you were always reminded of how deep the relationship between you two was. You knew in your heart that if it wasn't going to be him standing at the altar, then nonody would. He was perfect for you, and you were perfect for him too.

You didn't talk much as you finished the shower, but both of your actions spoke more than words could. You'd done enough talking during his time away, now you just wanted to enjoy his presence and touch.

He brushed his teeth next to you, his eyes always darting to see your face through the mirror, as if he was still in disbelief that you were real. You occasionally bumped your hips against him, to which he responded with a kiss on your face.

Jay groaned in satisfaction when he finally pulled his pajamas on, the pent up exhaustion was finally catching up to him. You wore his shirt to sleep (obviously), it had lost its smell already but that didn't matter anymore when Jay was finally going to be next to you.

He didn't waste much time and climbed into bed, opening his arms for you impatiently. "Come here baby."

You smiled widely, ignoring the way your cheeks were starting to hurt from the constant grinning. The bed dipped with your added weight, you eagerly climbed into his arms and let out a satisfied sigh. His fingers brushed through your hair gently, his body was aching with the need for sleep. You rested your face against the fabric of his shirt and tangled your legs with his in hopes of being as close as possible.

"I'm so glad you're here again, I missed you so much." Even though you already told him that, it didn't feel enough. The words couldn't convey how much you'd truly missed him.

"Me too sweetheart. Me too." He mumbled against your hair. "I'm going to make it up to you I promise. For the next few weeks you won't spend a single second without me."

You smiled at the thought and nodded, your plans were very similar. You weren't going to let him go for the foreseeable future. "Deal."

His other hand found your chin and carefully tilted it upward so he could see your face. You took this as an opportunity to say something you wanted to say for a while now, "I'm so proud of you, Jay. You always work so hard and still take care of me."

His lips curved into a smile, his eyes were shining with adoration. "Of course, I'll always make time for you. My life would be so much worse without you in it. You're my gorgeous girl and I just want to spoil you for the rest of my life."

If he wanted to say more, it was cut short by your lips pressing against his. He returned it happily, pulling you closer against him by your waist. Nothing felt better than his sweet, loving kisses. After a few minutes, he pulled away and brushed a strand of your hair aside. "We should get some sleep, you're going to need your energy for tomorrow."

"For what?" You hummed curiously, studying his face for a hint.

"I'm going to show you just how much I missed you and that pretty little body of yours." He grinned, his voice carried a hint of suggestiveness which made your heart beat faster in anticipation.

"Well then, you too" You replied simply and pecked his lips one last time. "Goodnight babe."

"Goodnight love."

tags: @vivimura @who-tf-soddhi @laurradoesloveu @p1hbrook @hoonielvv @nodoubtily @enhamonsterghoul @heebambilee @en-chantedtomeetyou @hsbae @jellyluv4eva @vivissection @beigerin @jwywife @elairah @heekilrvs @jayjw16enxp @lakoya @ijustreallylike2read @annovaz @strawberrynull @abbyeey @celestiai0 @enhalxvr @llearlert @raizennloll @rizzmura @sabriochee @sol3chu @fluveriiez @kitty-won07 @sucrosxi @kukkurookkoo @mimisxs @darquette @hhyvsstuff @lovelydeliciousfestival @luciathcv @bigwforjay @pshfan0812 @lov4hoon @jaerisdiction @kireiinahana @abzyissupersleepy @madslove-enhypen @b3tt7boop @dodot04lover @ki2rins @sugarikiz (mwah) ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ