#i wanted to add more questions to answer but this is already really long ;_; i will just wait for more asks... smiles cutely

[charliesinfern0]

multiple please!!!!!!!! key lime + lemon sorbet for seven, strawberry for ryoma, and coconut mango for korosensei :)

[switching it up this time not just focusing on ichi HAHA also wishing you good luck with your bloodwork charlie!!!!!!!! i really REALLY hate getting it done too, but you got this ^^!!!!!!! lots of fun things to do and think about after this obstacle!!!]

self ship ask game

yay thank you for the asks and for kind words!!!! im all good now! ^_^

strawberry: before getting together, how did your F/O realize they had a crush on you? How did they act around you once they realized they were head over heels?

Before Ryoma realized he had a crush on Reito, he always found himself just wanting to be near her. He subconsciously looked for her in the crowd whenever their classmates got together to discuss ideas about escaping the school, he found himself walking next to her whenever they were exploring, he always stood next to her during class trials... Her presence was calming, a bit of respite in this hectic killing game. She was always kind and understanding towards him, while also challenging some of his more pessimistic thoughts. She respected his boundaries, never pressuring him to talk about his past or interact with the other students if he didn't want to. It was only when he realized he wanted Reito to know more about him, he wanted her to talk to him, that he finally came to the realization that he had a crush on her.

After that, he found himself torn between wanting to distance himself from her or staying near her. He didn't want her to get involved with him, because he's a murderer, he's supposed to die. it would be a lost cause and she'd only get herself hurt. He also didn't even know if he could fully trust her. Considering she was the Ultimate Actor, she could just be putting on an act. Hell, she could even be the mastermind behind the killing game!

But... he didn't really believe that. He was just scared of hurting her, if he were to get killed. He didn't want her to experience that same feeling he had when he lost everything. even though he wanted to be close to her, he'd only distance himself a little bit. Reito had given him a sliver of hope, had helped him open his heart to his classmates... so he was going to hold on for as long as he could. And maybe, once all of this was over, he'd be able to be closer to her.

While he's crushing on her, it's not super obvious since he acts how he normally does, but you can see some cracks in demeanor. His cheeks get a little rosier when theyre together, and he's always stealing glances at her. He almost broke completely one time when they were exploring together with Shuichi, Maki, Kaito and Miu. The lights had gone out, and while Miu and Kaito were freaking out and Shuichi was trying to calm them down, Ryoma heard Reito say his name, "Ryoma?" and he felt her hand on his shoulder. She said, "Oh, there you are! Sorry, I got a little scared, I can barely see anything when it's dark." He was so flustered by her touch that he was almost glad that the lights were out so she couldn't see how red his face was (turns out it was Kokichi who turned out the lights as a prank lol)

lemon sorbet: does your F/O get jealous easily?

Saeyoung doesn't really get jealous easily, it's moreso that he's protective of MC whenever he sees that she's uncomfortable around someone that keeps trying to talk to her. He does also pout jokingly whenever he sees her cuddling with a plushie or being affectionate with their robot cat, and says that he wants cuddles and pets too (and of course MC obliges ^_^)

key lime: how would you describe your self-ship’s aesthetic?

cold late nights and starry skies, warm hugs and cold hands, a quiet corner in a crowded party and when you're ready you dance the night away, playing video games and sleeping in, soft whispers and loud laughter, kisses that taste like honey, cats, cats and cats :3

coconut mango: what mementos do you and your F/O treasure?

Korosensei likes taking pictures, and he treasures every single one with Usagi in them. Ones where she's supporting or joking around with their students, ones where she noticed him and posed or smiled for him, ones where she focused on her work and has that cute furrow in her brow when she concentrates, ones where it's just the two of them together enjoying each other's company... Usagi is a bit embarrassed at how many pictures he's taken of her, especially of the ones that she thinks arent very flattering, but she cant help but smile and tear up when Korosensei says she looks beautiful no matter what she's doing, and that he treasures every moment that he has with her.

He's also made a habit of pressing flowers and petals into a journal of his, ones that remind him of Usagi, like lavender, or the petals of the plum blossoms they and their students got to visit together. They didn't have much time left together, so he wanted to preserve as much as possible for Usagi to look back on and remember him by.

He writes little encouraging notes in her journals, he collects the little doodles she makes on her papers while she works, he's just a very sentimental guy!

[gay-dorito-dust]

Howdy again! I love your writing for the batfamily sm so here I am again!

The bat boys forgetting to kiss their s/o when they get home from patrol (it can be smthn else, just them getting home from somewhere) like this TikTok !!

If you see this I hope you have a lovely day! Thank you sm !!

Jason

You couldn’t help but pout when Jason passed you by with not even a little kiss to the cheek or your forehead.

Jason has never, ever missed an opportunity to kiss you when he came back from patrol as it would vary from what type of mood he’d come back in.

Soft, slow and passionate for the ones that went well.

Rough, hard and aggressive for the ones that didn’t go so well and had to involve getting his hands dirty.

So when he completely blanked you at the door, you were confused and slightly hurt at this as Jason was never one to forget to kiss, hug and or cuddle you, ever!

‘Excuse me mr Todd.’ You called as Jason looked up from his book. ‘You forgot something very, very important.’ You add but Jason only smiled as he sets aside the book, pulling back the covers as he pats his lap twice. ‘I didn’t forget, I just wanted us to get comfortable before I kiss you senseless.’ He admits as he watched you with an adoring look as you got close enough for him to pull you to him by the waist, your hands braced on his shoulders as you giggled.

‘Are you sure you didn’t forgot or are you trying to make up for the fact that you forgot to kiss me senseless at the door?’ You asked sarcastically, already knowing the answer as you felt Jason cup your face between his large hands, his lips mere inches away from your own as his breath fanned your face.

‘Can’t it be a bit of both?’ He jokes, ‘now how long should a kiss you for?’ He wonders aloud and you couldn’t help but make a suggestion. ‘Ten seconds to smack up for the ten minutes you’ve been here and haven’t kissed me yet.’ You really wanted that kiss and you’ll get it however you could if Jason was the one offering it up to you.

Jason hummed as he rested his forehead against yours, murmuring. ‘I’ll double it for you being a sweetheart and waiting for me when you didn’t have to.’ Before giving you a soft, tender kiss as his lips weaved between your own passionately as though kissing you was something Jason took immense pride in.

Which he did, very much so as he brought his hands back down to your waist, keeping you close as you moved your hands to cup his jaw, feeling it move under your touch as you hummed against his lips for the next couple of seconds before feeling the need to breath.

‘Did you enjoy my make up kiss chipmunk.’ Jason asked with a smirk but you could tell he was being genuine in his question. You loved this man and his soft heart that you couldn’t help but smother his face in kisses for the sake of showing him that you love him just as much as he loved you, making him chuckle wholeheartedly as he somehow tugged you even closer to him just to feel you pressed against him, reminding him that you were here with him and not a figment of his imagination as he drowned himself in your affection.

‘It was more than perfect my sweet boy.’ You said as you kissed both of his warm cheeks and cuddled yourself into his chest, wanting nothing then to be as close as you physically could to him.

Bruce

Noticed that you were pouting more than usual and would occasionally huff disgruntled from time to time, but it was enough for him to want to speak up about it.

‘Is there a reason you’re huffing my dear.’ He’d ask as you were both getting ready for bed.

‘You didn’t kiss me when you came back from patrol.’ You pouted even further as you suddenly felt a little childish about your grievances with him. Bruce couldn’t help but smile as he brought his hands up to your face and began caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

‘I didn’t?’ He asked but his eyes shone with a hint of mischief.

‘No you didn’t, you’ve left me with no kiss for the past thirty minutes.’ You replied as you melted further into his hands while trying to still be upset with him for not kissing you after a long night of patrol, sure it was a little selfish but it was your thing to convey that things were okay or going to be okay at least!

‘I apologise my dear,’ Bruce said as he tightened his grip on you, keeping you staring his chest as he kept an observant eye on you for your every reaction, ‘how could I ever make it up to you? Maybe this?’ He trails off a she lowers his head so it was in your neck as he trailed it with slow, gentle and lingering kisses that had you bringing a hand up to his hair, giving it a half hearted tug before caressing it as a apology of your own.

‘It’s a start.’ You hummed as you closed your eyes, ‘but I’d much rather have your lips on mine rather than on my neck.’ You added as you felt Bruce stop and lift his head from your neck, much to your dismay as you opened your eyes to see his face within inches away from yours.

‘I’d gladly kiss you anywhere your heart desires but if it’s your lips that you want me most, then who am I to refuse.’ Bruce purrs as he was about to close the distance between the two of you, only for the door to burst open as a little Dick and little Jason ran into yours and Bruce’s room.

‘What’s happened, are you both okay?’ You said as you pulled away from Bruce, looking between the two fidgeting boys.

‘Jason threw up.’ Dick said as he helped keep his brother upright.

‘Sorry.’ Jason said groggily, the poor boy looking deathly pale.

You and Bruce looked at each other knowingly, that kiss was going to have to wait as you both left to bed to tend to your precious boys.

Dick

You didn’t confront him about his blatant avoidance in kissing you when coming home from patrol until you were both tucked in bed, ready for sleep when you suddenly spoke in the silence.

‘How long have you been home for my sweet Dickie bird?’ You asked as you rested against his chest, tracing patterns into his skin.

‘Twenty minutes? Why?’ Dick asked, slightly confused why you were focusing on the duration of when he got home after patrol.

‘So for the past twenty minutes you didn’t realise that you didn’t kiss me like you usually do when coming home from patrol?’ You inquired as you saw Dick’s confused expression drop as the realisation settled in for him. ‘Starting to recall?’ You added sarcastically as you rested your chin on his chest, brows raised as you watched his expression become apologetic as he looked at you.

‘Aww has my cutie been waiting for me to realise my error and make up for my negligence of your needs and wants?’ Dick asked as he chuckled softly, finding it adorable that all you wanted before drifting off to sleep was a kiss from him, it warmed his heart to know that you thrived off of his affection like he did with yours. It was like a reminder that you loved each other and thought of one another constantly.

‘Yes, it was very rude of you to ignore me, even after I waited the entire night for you.’ You responded as though you were deeply disappointed, but you didn’t move away when Dick moved your head to kiss you on the lips, giving your bottom lip a playful bite as you groaned in response as you kept Dick against your lips by place your hand at the back of his head to get as many kisses as you could from your beautiful man.

‘Is my sweetheart satisfied now?’ Dick asks when he pulls away, ‘or did you want more kisses as compensation?’

You gave it some thought before looking at him, smiling slyly, ‘I think a few more kisses couldn’t hurt-‘ but it seemed as though dick was head of you as his lips were back on yours and your hand was back to tangle with his hair, keeping him close as Hayley feel asleep at the foot of your bed like the good pup she was.

Damian

Sees that your paying more attention to Titus then him, cuddling up to the Great Dane and talking to him as though he could respond and give you the much needed advice you needed.

‘What’re you doing treasure.’ He asked.

‘Did you hear that Titus? I sure didn’t.’ You said as you messed with Titus’s floppy ears as the dog remained calm and content with his current situation, that snd having your affection was a bonus for the doggo.

Damian groaned. ‘Is this because I didn’t kiss you once?’ You stopped playing with Titus’s ears but didn’t once look back to address him.

‘There’s a voice that I should be listening to but I don’t feel like doing so because apparently it’s childish and pathetic to want affection.’ You said aloud as you then got up from the floor and began to walk towards the bedroom with Titus on your heels along with your newest addition, Atticus, a golden retriever pup that Damian found out through Tim was about to be sent to a kill shelter.

‘I did not say that!’ Damian said as he followed after you, grabbing your arm in his grasp and pulling you so that you were face to face with him. ‘So stop being dramatic and let me make it up to you.’ He adds but you were stubborn to forgive him for his transgressions.

‘I don’t think I want that kiss now, you’ve wasted long enough to give it but haven’t so don’t bother-‘ before you could finished your sentence, Damian quickly kissed you on the lips before pulling away to shield his flustered expression behind his hand.

You blinked once, twice, three times before a massive smile graced across your face as you moved Damian’s hand to hold your own and intertwine your fingers as you dragged him to bed with you and the dogs.

‘You tricked me.’ Damian said as soon as he was in your shared bed, realising what had just happened within a short span of time, and the suspiciously quick change in emotions from you.

You merely shrug as you cuddle into his side. ‘Shouldn’t have forgotten to give me my kisses.’ You stated as though it was obvious and Damian couldn’t help but chuckle softly to himself at just how eager he was to make you happy, even giving you a kiss you claimed you were robbed of.

‘I shall keep that in mind for the future.’ Damian said as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head before falling asleep alongside you. He didn’t forget a single kiss in the future but he also did keep bringing in animals he found in dangerous situations.

[wonderjanga]

Billy and Bars

Now, as you probably know, most of the time Billy is ages 8 to maybe 15 (that’s what I’ve seen anyways) and of course, his Captain Marvel form looks like an adult. So, it wouldn’t be strange for an adult to ask another adult to go to a bar with them. Which is why Billy is caught in a dilemma. On one hand, he could just say no, but after a long mission where they’d all spent like two days on an alien planet under constant heavy fire from a cute and cuddly, yet surprisingly bloodthirsty race? It’d be weird not to accept. They might suspect him for being a kid! And boy, Billy does not want that. But on the other hand, he’s not of legal drinking age.

He ends up going with them anyways. Now, all the heroes are sat at a dingy bar in Central City, out of costume, of course. Though, some of them cough Bruce cough Diana cough Arthur cough and you can’t forget Billy, still in Marvel form. (He took a page out of Supe’s book and wore glasses. He’s also for some reason wearing Hawaiian print. (He didn’t have actual adult clothes and needed to borrow from a bargain bin))

Billy thankfully found a loophole for this whole mess. That’s right, this guys gonna be sipping virgin margaritas for the rest of the night. And, he try as many flavors as he wants because you wanna know the best part? Bruce is paying for everything! If Billy could jump in joy, he would. It didn’t matter that Hal was a little obnoxious when drunk off his mind. He’s dealt with worse and it’s not like it’s all that bad. He’s kinda funnier than usual this way. He gets the spend the rest of the day with people he considers friends, that’s all that really matters.

GL: “Dude, why do you keep ordering virgins?”

Crap. What does Billy say to that? Right off the bat, Billy ignores Solomon’s first, and quite frankly, wild lie to tell.

Marvel: “Hmm? Oh uh… I… like the way they taste…?”

He’s a bad liar.

Aquaman: *drinking beer* “Try again, bud.”

Okay… It looks like he might have to listen to Solomon after all. Gosh dang it.

Marvel: “Uhm… I kinda used to maybe sort of might’ve had an addiction and had to go to AA a long time ago.” *Sips drink*

He was always better at lying when the lie was already prepared.

*Whole table goes silent*

Marvel: “Uh… I’ve been sober for a while. Like…” ‘Twelve years, Billy,’ Solomon supplied in his head. “…Twelve years.”

*Table is still silent.*

Flash: *Interrupts silence by slamming hands on table* “Dude! You cannot keep dropping Marvel Lore Bombs™️ on us like this!” (Btw this is the same universe as the Marvel Compilations post. I didn’t mean to write it like it was the same universe but I might as well connect them cause why not)

Marvel: “Whaddya mean?”

Superman: “Well, Marvel…” *scratches back of head* “You kinda have this tendency to… Gosh, how do I put this?”

Martian Manhunter: “You drop obscure information about yourself at random times.”

Wonder Woman: “Then you just go about your day like you didn’t say it in the first place. For example Cap, you can’t just tell me that at some point you were an Amazonian, you were there for my birth, and then just walk off.”

GL: “Marvel, how old are you?”

Marvel: “Uuuuuuhhhhhhh….”

Batman: “You date back to having existed before Mesopotamia. I want to know the answer to that question Marvel.” *Bat-glares Billy while sipping from his drink.*

Bruce was definitely going to add the AA thing to his quite small folder on Marvel.

The night continues on with the other members of the JL grilling Billy for more information about himself, which Solomon helps with by either supplying him with lies, or with things previous champions did. By the time the night was over, Billy never wanted to go to a bar again. He unshazamed in an alley and went home to his little place. He bee-lined to his sleeping bag and just when he was about to fall asleep, something popped into his mind:

‘Why didn’t I just say I didn’t like the way it tastes?’ That thought kept him up for a couple more hours.

[aurorawritestoescape]

BAD BLOOD part 6

Pairing: step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller

Summary: a month after Joel exposed your relationship with Tommy, the Miller brothers pay you a visit and your feelings come to the surface.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, angst, step-cest, big age gap (reader is 22, Joel and Tommy are in their late and mid-40s), dark!Joel, soft!Tommy with darkish vibes, edging, mfm, unprotected DVP, f!oral, ass slapping(2), handjob, multiple orgasms, creampies, cum eating, degradation, praise kink, daddy kink, fingering, swearing. Joel can pick up reader. The pics are for the mood only. Reader has no specific physical descriptions.

Word count: 8,2k

A/n: this is the final part of the main story so I’m very emotional about it. I love these menaces. There’s going to be an epilogue and I’ll probably do some extra stories for them bc I can’t see myself letting them go🥹 dedicating this part to my everything @milla-frenchy ❤️ Thank you for being with me every step of the way! Your support, your help, your love for the characters (mainly Joel *coughs*slut) mean the world to me. Love you sm, baby!!💖🫂😘 big hug to @romanarose for answering my dorm-related questions!🫂 I’m grateful to everyone who’s read the series, liked, commented, rb-ed, sent asks about it. I’ve been overwhelmed with your love and I’m sending you some back💕Love you all!!❤️ Hope you’ll like this part! Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Part 5 || SERIES MASTERLIST II Tommy’s Visit MASTERLIST

“I’m off, babe!” your roommate Mel says when you meet her at the dorm on the way to your room. She’s carrying a big sports bag, ready to drive to her parents’ house for the weekend.

“Oh! Your dad’s here. He’s in our room,” she nods in the direction of your suit and adds with a playful smile, “he’s hot!”

You furrow your brows, blinking at her with confusion.

“Dad? But.. He lives in Europe.”

“Ehm…Maybe it’s your stepdad then? He said he was your daddy.”

‘Daddy’. Your jaw drops and your heart plummets into your stomach.

“You ok?” Mel places her hand on your shoulder, with a worried expression. “You look… shook.”

“No, I’m fine… just surprised.”

You wave her goodbye with a strained smile and your weak legs carry you to your dorm room.

Your mind is racing and every step seems to last an eternity. You can’t believe he’s here. A mixture of guilt, fear and excitement fills your chest. What are you going to tell him?

You haven’t talked to Tommy in more than a month, scared to face him, to admit that you had ruined his life because of your desire. You hoped that he realized that Joel was the real villain of the story but you couldn’t deny that all that mess had started with you. After that horrible day, your mom flooded your phone with hateful messages, calling you a slut, a whore and a homewrecker. You didn’t pick up her calls which were rare. Apparently she didn’t want to hear your voice, just like you didn’t want to hear hers. Indifference filled your heart. You had already hated her for years, your relationship ruined long before you slept with her husband.

And Tommy…You couldn’t bear to hear him breaking up whatever thing you two had so you just blocked him. His hate would be too much for you. You had never felt anything like that before and you wanted to save those moments together untainted by his resentment.

You did the same with Joel’s number. But you pressed ‘block caller’ only after you phoned him and cursed the fucker out. How did he dare to drop a nuclear bomb on your life like that? Deep in your heart you knew that he had overplayed you in your own game and your pride was hurt. What made matters worse was your sickening yet undeniable desire for the bastard.

When you come up to your room, you see that the door is slightly ajar. He really is here. After taking a deep breath, you step into the room and find Tommy, sitting on your bed, elbows planted on his knees, your exercise book in his hands. He’s wearing a black shirt with a white tank top underneath and a pair of dark jeans. Your pussy tingles just from a sight of him, his big body, soft curls, but you drive away these thoughts, trying to concentrate on the goal that you set on the way here - to get him back.

Your stepdad raises his eyes to you. Is it a trace of smile on his lips? What if he doesn’t hate you after all? A slither of hope gives you much needed courage and you take a few steps towards him.

“Hey. What are you doing here?”

Your voice is small and shaky and you hate it but it’s stupid to deny your overwhelming feelings for him.

Tommy gives you a little smile and throws your book back on your desk, next to your bed.

“I wanted to see you. We need to talk.”

“Yes, daddy,” you agree, biting your lip and batting your eyelashes at your stepdad.

“I didn’t think you’d call me that after blocking me.”

“I’m sorry, but… I was scared. I thought you hated me. But it’s not my fault. I had feelings for you and Joel used it. He ruined your life. I’d never do it.”

Tommy drops his head, rubbing his hands, and hums. You start seeing red as soon as your step uncle's name leaves your lips and your anger spills out.

“That fucker secretly took the photo and sent it to our fucking family chat?! Who the fuck does that? Is he insane?”

Tommy looks up at you and then his gaze slides to the side, somewhere behind you, before he says,

“You can ask him yourself, sweetheart.”

For a second time your heart jumps in your chest, when a pair of strong arms grabs you from behind and you sense a broad chest pressed tightly to your back. Startled, you are about to scream, but a huge hand claps over your mouth.

“Surprise, angel,” Joel gruffs in your ear while his arm squeezes your waist. You thrust and shake but all your attempts to break free are fruitless against his strength.

“Keep wriggling, baby, I love feeling your ass, grinding against my dick.”

He hums and pushes his hips into you. You sense his huge bulge and your pussy tingles when you remember what he can do with this cock. Joel’s scent envelops you just like his body and you gush. Yet your hatred for the man overpowers your desire and you keep thrashing in his steel embrace. Your nostrils flare, and searching for help, your pleading eyes dart to Tommy.

To your surprise your stepdad doesn’t rush to help you— he sits up straighter and spreads his thighs wider, while his darkening eyes are sliding up and down your bound body, powerless in Joel’s arms.

You whine, realizing that he’s enjoying it, the view is turning him on. You’re getting worked up as well, feeling yourself small and helpless, fully at the mercy of the two men.

Joel’s arm, wrapped over your arms and under your chest, pushes your breasts up and they almost spill out of your neckline. You can feel your step uncle’s breath on your cleavage, and he’s groaning, probably enjoying the view of your tits. A new surge of arousal makes you press your thighs together. Are they gonna fuck you in your dorm room like it’s some raunchy porn? You really hope so.

Not being able to hide your desire any longer, you make a loud moan, muffled by the hand covering your mouth, but it still electrifies the air in the room, and both men grunt.

As much as you love Joel’s strong back and huge bulge pressed against you, scorching anger rises from the pits of your stomach again, and you try to push him off yourself. Tommy’s watching your weak attempts for a few seconds before taking pity on you.

“Let her talk, Joel.”

The older brother puts his hand away and you exclaim, wriggling in Joel’s arms, trying to break free.

“Let go of me, perv!”

"You had this perv's cock in your mouth and your ass not so long ago," he reminds you, not easing his grip.

"I'm not fucking proud!"

"You should be, angel. You took it like a champ both times."

He emphasizes his words with a thrust of his hips and you growl, trying to hide your arousal.

“Daddy, what the fuck? Why’s he here? Why didn’t you tell him to fuck off?”

Joel tightens his python-like embrace and gruffs in your ear,

“Blood is thicker than water, angel. But you and your “mummy didn’t let me host a party and now Ima fuck her husband” will never understand that.”

“It’s not…you know nothing about me, you asshole.” Your voice strains as the rage suddenly mixes with deep sadness. Trying not to burst into tears you grit your teeth as you explain,

“She ruined my whole life, drove my dad away. She cheated on him and now he’s not even talking to me, just sends money for college. It’s all because of that slut.”

Tommy drops his head and you know that he's feeling sorry for you right now. Your pride pangs but a ray of hope dries your upcoming tears - he cares, he still cares about you.

Joel on the other hand is not sympathetic in the slightest, commenting with a chuckle, "Damn, angel, you're a textbook example of daddy issues.

Not saying we ain't happy, right, brother?" He looks at Tommy and adds, "it got our dicks wet."

You begin thrashing harder and exclaim, “Fuck you!”

“Yeah, you will.”

“Let go of her, Joel,” Tommy commands, steel in his voice, and to your surprise, Joel follows his brother's order immediately.

You hurry away from your step uncle and stand closer to Tommy.

Your eyes dart between the men, as you’re fixing your bunched up clothes, panting heavily after trying to get free.

Joel grabs your chair, plops down and places his booted foot on the edge of your desk with a thud.

You’re glaring at him, trying to convey all disgust and hatred for the man with your expression, but Tommy sighs and your gaze darts to him.

“Daddy,” you whisper, taking a shy step in his direction.

His eyes freeze your heart. He looks serious, too serious for your liking.

Tommy leans on his knees again and starts talking, eyes moving between you and Joel.

“Joel is an asshole, sweetheart, you’re right. But what’s new? I’ve known him all my life and I understand what he’s capable of. Yes, he ruined my marriage but to be honest…I’m glad.”

Your jaw drops as you’re staring at your stepdad, and he continues,

“Life with Jess was suffocating me. I thought I needed to settle down, to start a family but I was wrong. I was happy in Austin. And she…fuck,” he shakes his head with a sigh, “She’s a lot. You’re the best person to know it.”

His eyes set on you and you see a genuine regret and sadness in them. You want to reach for him, hug him, kiss him but he needs you to listen. So you listen.

“In an absolutely horrible way, yes, but Joel helped me to get out of it. I’m gonna lose a lot of money in the settlement but it’s just money.”

“Shoulda got a prenup like I told you,” Joel mumbles.

The longer Tommy speaks, the more you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“Wait! So now he’s your savior, huh? He manipulates you, Tommy! He says what you want to hear and then stabs you in the back!”

“Baby, the only thing I did behind your back is come in your ass,” Joel smirks and then points his thick finger at you, “And not you talking about fuckin’ loyalty! We had a deal but you weren’t gonna do shit with that recording! I saw your fuckin’ heart eyes. You’d never do it to your precious daddy so I had to do it my way. And it needed to be done!”

You narrow your eyes and clench your fists, barely holding yourself from hitting the man, as you exclaim,

“You sent the pic of me fucking my stepdad to my family group chat, you fucker! My nana’s there! She almost died after seeing that photo!

All you get from your step uncle is another bark of a laugh.

“Who gives a shit? She’s ancient.”

“You motherfuckin’…” you’re about to launch at the men but Tommy rushes up and steps between you and his older brother.

“Stop!” His hands are on your shoulders, his eyes kind and warm. “Calm down, sweetheart. Please.”

You take a deep breath and inch closer to him and Tommy doesn't push you away. He hugs you, pulling you closer to him, and rubs your back with his big hands. You immediately melt in his warm embrace with your cheek pressed to his chest, your arms wrapped around his waist. You bite your lip and squeeze your eyes shut, fighting back tears as a mix of strong emotions- hate, love, desire, rage, fills your heart and you take a deep breath, wishing to find comfort and peace in your stepdad's arms.

You open your eyes and see Joel watching you two, his gaze piercing, expression pensive. You’d give a lot to know what he’s thinking about at the moment. Probably scheming again.

You turn your face away from him and press your cheek to Tommy’s chest.

Suddenly he pulls away and looks down at you, head tilted.

“You hurt me, baby. I needed you, and you left. Even blocked my number.”

You swallow loudly, shifting on your feet, as fear is rising in your chest again. With your eyes downcast, you mumble, “I’m sorry.”

“Are you really?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Are you willing to show us how sorry you are?” He sits back on the bed, manspreading, his gaze dark, intense.

“To you? Yes. But not to him!”

“Sweetheart.” His warning tone binds your pride and you stop fighting what you really want. What your pussy wants.

“Ok, daddy.”

A corner of Tommy’s mouth curves up a little and he says,

“Good girl. Take your clothes off.”

Joel groans and slightly shifts in his chair, making it squeak. You glance at him but your eyes return to Tommy.

You start discarding your clothes piece by piece, gaze locked with your stepdad and he drinks in every exposed part of your body. Your panties fall on the floor last and you step out of them.

Now you’re standing in your dorm room completely naked in a company of the two fully clothed older men. You’re already dripping, the wetness between your thighs is evident just to you for now but you desperately wish for them to discover it.

“We’ve talked enough about Joel. Let’s talk about you, babygirl.”

You feel your stomach twist, nervous about what he might say.

"Have you fucked anyone since you left?" Tommy asks, his expression serious.

"No."

Your stepdad's eyes are darting between yours, searching for any sign of you lying.

"Has anyone fucked you?"

You hate that he doesn't trust you but it's hard to blame him —he knows better than anyone how thirsty you're.

"No, daddy. I promise. I've... only been making myself come, thinking of you. All this time.”

You bite your lower lip and purr, "been imagining you fucking me. Your kisses. Your hands on me. Your cock in my mouth."

Tommy's chest expands and he squirms on the bed. You clasp your hands in front yourself and drop your head down, telling him the truth,

"I've missed you. Still miss you."

"Aww, how sweet," Joel mocks you with a laugh.

Tommy frowns at him and you shoot a fiery glance at the older brother for ruining the moment.

“What about your favourite uncle, angel? Have you fantasized about me?”

"No," you reply without hesitation through the gritted teeth.

"Don't lie," Tommy commands, his tone cold and demanding.

You avert your gaze from them both and look in front of yourself.

"Yes," you admit as your voice is barely audible,

"yes, I did."

Joel's smug grin is noticeable even from your peripheral vision.

"What was it about? Your fantasies?” Tommy asks.

"You both fucking my pussy."

"Damn, angel," Joel groans, palming himself.

“I know my pussy is off limits to Joel. I’m sorry for thinking about it, daddy.”

“It’s ok, sweetheart. You’re allowed to imagine whatever you want.”

You inch closer to Tommy and his eyes slide down from your face to your breasts and then to your wet pussy.

Your stepdad licks his lower lip and a memory of him making you come on his tongue in the darkness of your bedroom overflows the glass of your desire and you kneel slowly between his legs.

“Sweetheart,” Tommy breathes out in surprise but spreads his legs wider for you.

“She remembers well where she belongs,” Joel comments as you feel his hungry gaze on your naked back and ass.

You place your palms on Tommy’s jean-clad thighs and sit on your heels, batting your lashes, before you lower your head to his crotch. You press your cheek to his huge warm bulge and whisper, “let me suck your cock, daddy. I want to apologize.”

Tommy takes a sharp breath and Joel whistles. You feel cold air on your naked pussy and squeeze your thighs together to relieve the ache in your needy center.

Then you nuzzle the stiff lump under his jeans and rub your nose and cheek over it. It twitches against you and a moan escapes your lips. Tommy bucks his hips against your head but then his hand on your cheek stops you.

“We have something else in mind for you, babygirl. You can’t deny that you deserve a punishment, right?”

You drop your eyes in agreement and Tommy continues.

“Your step uncle promised you something that morning when we ehm… had breakfast together.”

You hear the squeak of your chair and then Joel’s heavy steps. The older brother stands next to you two and you lift your head to look at him.

He’s looming over your body, tall and broad and your pussy throbs harder as your eyes involuntarily slide down from his handsome smug face to his broad chest and then huge bulge.

“Get your ass on the bed so I could eat your slutty pussy.”

You scream internally, keeping a straight face, and ask,

“Are you that bad that it’s considered a punishment?”

Joel shifts his jaw and gruffs,

“Let’s hope I won’t bite your clit off, brat.”

You wince and Tommy curses under his breath. Then he pulls you up from your knees and gets up too. You’re standing between the two men, burning up with desire to be used and Tommy doesn’t help you to calm down, when he starts taking off his shirt, leaving only his white tank top on and exposing his thick muscular arms. When you glance back you notice Joel is doing the same, and you softly moan at the sight of his broad torso in a mesh top.

“Moaning like a whore already,” Joel mocks you, stepping up to you and pressing his body to your back and ass.

You gasp but don’t pull away. His hands on your hips slide up and down, until he brings one palm to your pussy and gives your mound a light slap.

“Joel,” you whimper as it sends a wave of arousal through your body.

“You’ve been a bad girl, sweetheart,” Tommy chides you, stepping in front of you.

“Worse than usual?” You purr, biting your lip.

With Joel’s at your back, Tommy presses his hips to yours, sandwiching you between the two brothers and your pussy cries for them so much that you feel your slick run down your inner thigh.

With Joel’s arms wrapped around your torso, Tommy locks eyes with you and you reach for his lips but he immediately pulls away, takes your hand and leads you to the bed.

He sits down, leaning his back on the headboard and pats the place between his legs.

“Get in here, babygirl.”

You want to sit on your knees but suddenly Joel roughly turns you around and pushes you to plop between Tommys legs.

Your stepdad pulls you to lean against his warm chest before Joel kneels on the floor.

“Oh wow, big bad Joel Miller on his knees for me? Not the first time though,” you gloat and Joel grinds his teeth and roughly pulls your hips to the edge of the bed. You gasp as your head slides down Tommy’s chest and your naked breasts jiggle. Joel’s thick fingers dig into your skin as he throws your legs over his shoulders, and your pussy blooms for him. His dark eyes get obsidian with lust, as he glides his palms up and down your thighs.

“Fuck, ya seeing it, Tommy? She wasn’t lying about not fucking. This pussy is desperate for cock. ‘m afraid I’m gonna choke on all this slick,” he comments, not tearing his eyes from your needy cunt.

“I’ll be ok with this outcome,” you grunt as your clit twitches with anticipation.

Joel looks up at you with a sneer and then leans down to your mound. You hold your breath, expecting him to finally start eating you out but his lips land on your inner thigh instead of your waiting cunt. He kisses your skin there and you squirm in Tommy’s arms as Joel’s facial hair tickles you. He gets lower, peppering kisses along your inner thigh, moving closer to your center and you buck your hips to meet him halfway and to finally shove your pussy in his face, but Joel places his big palm on your lower belly and pushes your back on the bed. You hear Tommy’s voice over your head,

“Don’t move, honey. Promise to be a good girl for us, ok?”

“Yes, daddy,” you breathe out and tilt your head up and to the side to look up at him. He’s giving you a warm smile, its effect spreads warmth deep in your belly, but soon it turns into a scorching fire, when Joel’s lips finally latch onto your aching pussy. You gasp and turn to him and the sight almost makes you come. Joel fucking Miller, your asshole step uncle, a mean, selfish, arrogant prick, is on his knees for you, feasting on your wet cunt, lips smacking, tongue gathering all the wetness between your folds.

Already feeling like you’re in heaven, you moan loudly, not caring who might hear and catch you getting a head from your step uncle, while your stepdad’s hands are kneading your breasts and twitching your hard nipples.

“You love it, sweetheart?” Tommy whispers in your ear, as you’re fluttering your eyes shut with pleasure, when Joel’s skillful tongue flicks your throbbing clit and then he sucks it into his mouth.

“Yes—yes—yes,” you chant, almost tasting the climax on your tongue. But a second away from the explosion, Joel parts from your puffy cunt and presses his wet lips to your inner thigh again, kissing and nibbling on it lightly.

“No, Joel, my pussy,” you desperately whine.

“What is it, angel?”

“Make me come, please.”

“Good start but you can do better,” he mumbles while he’s watching his fingers trace your sopping hole. It’s hot but not enough to push you over the precipice.

You grit your teeth but your pride is quickly drowning in the sticky pit of desire.

“Joel, please, please make me come on your tongue. Please, I need it,” you beg and his smile is triumphant and content.

“I’ll do anything for my little niece.”

His mouth returns to your pussy and he grabs your thighs tighter as his tongue swirls your clit around and then slides down to your leaking hole.

“Fuck,” you hear Tommy curse and you feel his stiff cock under your back, he must be so turned on by this.

The older brother starts fucking you with his hot muscle and your hand slithers down to rub your puffy clit but Tommy grabs your wrists and pulls your hands up to your chest, crosses them and keeps them there with his one strong hand.

“Daddy, I wanna come,” you beg the moment Joel’s mouth leaves your pussy again and again whenever you feel so close to ecstasy.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but bad girls don’t get to come so fast,” Tommy smirks and his fingers tighten around your wrists.

You feel tears well up in your eyes, your breaths heavy, belly and chest heaving and your whole body is vibrating in frustration.

“Joel,” you sob and your step uncle lifts his head, his lips, mustache and beard glistening with your juices.

“I’ll give the candy to you, slut. But only if you tell me why you love your uncle Joel so much.”

“What?”

“You heard me, baby.” Joel’s lips are so close but, at the same time so far from where you need him. You curse and whine, grinding your teeth while anger is taking over you again.

Joel hurries you by planting a feather light kiss on your clit and your whole body jerks from a bolt of pleasure but it quickly dissipates, leaving you desperately needing more.

So you cave in.

"You're hot, Joel."

"Yeah, I know. What else?" your step uncle mumbles, drawing a path from your pussy to your knee with his lips.

Tommy chuckles and you squirm in his embrace, annoyed and frustrated.

"You... you're a good fuck."

"Mmm... don't ya think 'great'?"

"Yes. You're a great fuck, Joel."

"You sound like a horny slut, angel," he grumbles, "Hot and a great fuck. Way to objectify your poor uncle. I need more."

His lips travel back down to your cunt and you raise your hips in search of his caress, but Joel pushes you down and Tommy's free arm wraps around your waist tightly.

“Keep still, sweetheart,” he orders and emotions take over your mind and burst out of your mouth.

“Wanna know what I feel? I fucking hate you, Joel. I see myself in you and I fucking hate that. Because it’s like I’m staring at my own future. Just like you I want someone so much that I grab onto them until I realize that they don’t need me. Not as much as I need them. So I lie and manipulate and make them love me. But sooner or later they will see the real me. See my tiny black heart and they will get disappointed and dump me. And I’ll lie and manipulate more to get them back. And it’s a fucking cycle. I’ll never be loved for who I am. Because who I am doesn’t deserve any love.”

Joel freezes with his face between your legs, his expression pensive and serious. If you didn’t know him you’d say you see a trace of sympathy and sadness in his eyes.

“That’s why I hate you, Joel. And you know what’s funny? It’s that I can’t get you out of my fucking mind.”

You want to puke at how vulnerable you’re feeling, baring your soul and body to him. You turn your pained face to your stepdad and say,

“I can’t stop thinking about both of you. Is it love? It’s hard to understand. I’ve never experienced anything like this. Tommy, you’re fucking perfect and I made you suffer and I hate what I did to your life.”

You burst into sobs and your stepdad grabs you by the arms and manhandles you to get on his lap. Joel gets up and sits on the bed.

Tommy’s holding you close, your cheek pressed to his naked chest, peeking out the tank top, that you’re soaking with your tears.

He’s rubbing your shoulder with his hand and softly says,

“I'm not perfect. I’m a piece of shit. I should’ve never done what I did to you. We shouldn’t have. And it’s my fault for getting you into this mess.”

You throw your hands around his neck and start crying harder, mumbling through sobs and whimpers,

“No, please— don’t say that you regret it— regret us—don’t leave me like everyone else, please, daddy.”

“I won’t, babygirl. I’m sorry for… for everything. I love you. I’ll be there for you. Always.”

His arms tighten around you and he kisses everywhere he can reach — your forehead,

your temple, your nose until you tilt your face up and he finds your lips. He’s gentle with you, and you kiss him back, smearing your tears over his face but none of you cares. You’re caressing each other, drowning in the comfort of the embrace and the kiss.

When you part from him you press your nose into the crease of his neck and breathe in his scent, nestling into his big body. While sobs still crawl up your throat from time to time, Tommy wipes the wetness off your face and covers your naked body with a bedspread.

For a few minutes it’s quiet in the room, and when you calm down, you turn your red eyes to Joel, surprised that he hadn’t said anything assholish yet.

You find him watching you with curiosity and now you’re sure. He’s upset too.

A strange feeling envelops you. You want to hug him, feel the warmth of his body and share yours with him. But it’s not your relationship, not the way you connect. So you narrow your eyes and croak,

“Do you know how creepy you look when you’re staring like this, perv?”

You give him a little smile and notice a corner of his mouth slightly rising too.

“You surprised me, angel. Jus’ one month without a cock and you go completely nuts. Crying and shit. Throwing ‘L-words’ around.”

Now you’re both smiling at each other.

“Fuck off.”

“Ok, she’s back,” he says and slaps your ass over the fabric. “Ya know, your tears are golden, angel. Any man will do whatever you want if you cry like that.”

“It was genuine, asshole,” you snap back but there’s no bite to it. You feel lighter, all the pent up frustration and pain left your body and were wiped away by your stepdad’s warm embrace and Joel’s quiet support.

The only emotion that’s still tormenting you is desire. You squirm in Tommy’s lap and the bedspread falls off your shoulder revealing your naked breasts.

“Do you want us to leave, sweetheart?” Tommy asks and his breath caresses your tits.

“No, no, please, I want— .”

“What do you want?”

“I want you. I want you both.”

You look at your stepdad and notice him and Joel exchange glances.

“I think I owe you something, baby,” Joel gruffs and you turn to him and the shine in his beard reminds you of his lips on your pussy. The thought sets your core ablaze and you turn back to Tommy.

“Daddy?” you purr and the man nods.

“But no playing around this time, Joel,” Tommy warns his brother with a serious tone.

‘Course. Hop on my face, cry baby, I ain’t kneeling again.”

He lies down next to Tommy, shoulder to shoulder, and you almost squeal with excitement, throwing the cover off. Tommy leans back on the bed and you tell Joel to scoot lower.

“Wanna play with daddy’s cock.”

“Jesus, angel, is there anything you can do without daddy’s cock?”

You don’t reply and plant your knees on either side of Joel’s head.

A rush of dominance goes through your body when you see your step uncle in this position.

“Finally I’m gonna shut you up,” you smirk and lower your hips slowly, eager for your pussy to meet his smug grin.

Yet Joel is not the one to give up control easily and his hands grab your thighs and he pulls you onto his face. Having teased you before, now he doesn’t play at all and starts passionately making out with your sopping cunt, drawing gasps and moans out of your mouth. With his mouth open wide he stimulates you with a perfect suction while his tongue swirls your throbbing clit around.

You are reduced to a whimpering mess in a matter of seconds and you go so high and so fast that you need to ground yourself.

“Daddy,” you call.

“I’m here, sweetheart.”

Tommy unzips his jeans, trying not to fall off the bed, and takes out his cock.

It’s throbbing, the head glistening with smeared pre cum, and you spit on your hand and wrap your fingers around it. You give his manhood a few pumps, and Tommy moans, but Joel gets your full attention, when his tongue prods your clenching hole and then pushes inside you as deep as it’ll go. He starts fucking you with it and you ride his face, rhythmically bumping your clit against his prominent nose.

“Daddy, I can’t,” you whine, failing to concentrate on two acts at once.

“Don’t worry, I got you,” Tommy mumbles and his hand wraps around yours and he starts moving them together up and down his stiff shaft. His head is resting against the headboard but his half-lidded eyes are sliding between your pussy, crying into Joel’s mouth, and the unity of your hands, pleasuring his cock.

Your other hand is clenching your step uncle’s hair and your tits bounce as you increase the pace of riding his face.

You almost there when Tommy pulls your hand off his cock, sits up and mumbles, kissing your palm and panting,

“Oughta stop— too good— wanna come in your pussy.”

“Delicious little cunt,” Joel growls and starts rubbing your clit with the flat of his tongue, up and down, up and down, and you cry out his name, as euphoria bursts in your core and spreads like wildfire all over your body. You’re sobbing with pleasure, trembling over your step uncle's face, dripping juices onto his lips and he drinks them, slurping and groaning.

When the climax subsides you move off Joel’s face and Tommy takes you in his arms. The men are still fully clothed, except for their exposed cocks. You look down Joel's body and realize that he has been stroking his huge hard manhood while eating you out and your core reignites.

Tommy searches for your eyes.

“Do you feel better, sweetie?”

You nod with a tired smile and in a moment your lips crash against his and you kiss while his hands are hungrily roaming your sweat-covered body, your fingers running through his curls.

Not parting from your lips, Tommy brings his hand to your pussy and your legs fly apart. You shift in his embrace, now your back flush against his chest, lips still glued to his, and you moan when he slowly inserts two fingers into your hole, avoiding your oversensitive clit.

You sense a movement and open your eyes to see your step uncle get up.

“Mmm, Joel stretched you well with his tongue,” Tommy murmurs against your mouth. “Your pussy probably can take two cocks now.”

You pull away and stare at him.

“Two cocks, daddy? Do you mean..?”

“Two fat dicks, angel.”

Your head darts to Joel while Tommy’s fingers are still massaging you from the inside and the older brother laughs, lighting a cigarette, standing next to the bed,

“We gonna stuff your needy cunt so full, your belly’ll look like ya 4 months pregnant.”

He takes a drag while his free hand is wrapped around his huge hard cock.

Their words are ringing in your ears- ‘two cocks, your pussy.”

Your head snaps back to Tommy as you plead, “Please-please-daddy-yes-I want it. My pussy can take it, please, please.”

Your brows are pulled together and big needy eyes are glossy with desire. Tommy smiles at you with adoration in his warm dark gaze.

“We can try, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, angel. Your cock hunger sometimes surprises even me. And I know what a giant slut you’re.”

You don’t tear your eyes off Tommy as he coos at you while his fingers are playing with your soaked cunt,

“We still should prepare you. You know we are big. Especially now.”

“Now?”

“Look at you, my beautiful girl. Our cocks are throbbing hard just because of you.”

He leans lower and his lips brush your ear.

“I barely hold myself from taking you right now.” His fingers are moving inside you, slowly at first but gradually increasing the speed.

“My cock demands your little pussy. I’m so close to just sticking it deep in your sweet cunt and using you, taking what I need from you.”

“Fuck, daddy,” you whisper, closing your eyes and spreading your thighs wider, offering yourself to his hand.

You feel him add two more fingers, four inside you now, and the stretch makes you whine but the dull pain adds to the pleasure.

“Yeah, good girl,” Tommy praises you and kisses your cheek, his hand still working tirelessly, preparing your hole for them and bringing you closer to another climax.

You turn your head and see Joel smoking and watching you getting fingered.

His obsidian eyes lock with yours and he winks at you.

“Lemme help you, brother. ‘m afraid to split her poor pussy in half with my dick.”

He bends down and you gasp when you see his meaty hand move to the place where Tommy’s fingers are already stretching you to the limit.

“Joel,” your scared mewl mixes with the squelching noises of your sopping cunt.

“He’s gonna be gentle,” Tommy commands his older brother, and Joel humms absentmindedly as his thick middle finger prods your entrance over Tommy’s digits.

“C’mon, angel, breathe for me. Yeah, good slut, relax your hungry cunt.”

You do as he says and soon you watch his finger disappear inside you, joining Tommy’s digits. With an open mouth you watch two brothers fuck your stretched hole. You grip their wrists, not to stop but to encourage them to keep going.

Tommy's voice is strained with lust when he groans,

“Shit, honey. Listen to her. She’s crying for more. My fingers are drenched.”

His words send you spiraling into the depth of arousal and when the heel of Joel’s hand hits your clit, you cry out. Your body is shaking, your nails scratching their wrists, your face twisting with euphoria.

“Yeah, jus’ like that, little slut. Happy pussy, happy dicks, yeah?”

You barely hear Joel, after two orgasms your brain is mush. Through the fog in your head you hear Tommy’s voice,

“You sure you still want it? Honey, yes or no?”

You nod because of course you do. The way they make you feel when you fuck is the best thing you’ve experienced in your life, the brightest, the richest pleasure. You feel needed, desired, like they will never leave you. Never will be able to exist without you.

“You need to say it, baby, c’mon,” Tommy coos, “Need to hear it.”

“Yes. Please, fuck me both. Fuck my tight pussy.”

“Ain’t so tight anymore, angel,” Joel laughs, “but it’ll snap back after we done with her.”

He gives you a reassuring slap on the thigh and you smile, too spent to talk.

The men get undressed and then manhandle you into straddling Tommy. You kiss him as soon as you’re close, moaning into his mouth as if tasting him is your basic need, one thing you can’t live without. You both seem to get lost in it until you hear Joel’s grumble.

“Quit it, lovebirds. Let’s get to fuckin’.” He’s next to the bed and you turn your head, ogling his gorgeous cock.

“Soon my dick and your sweet cunt will meet, angel. Let’s make their first time special, yeah?”

He tilts your head up with his fingers, bends down and kisses you passionately. You missed his taste, mixed with yours now, missed his lips, his scent, enveloping you. Your pussy aches for him as much as for Tommy and you might hate to admit it but your heart craves him too. His fire is as scolding as it is addictive and you want him to destroy you, in whatever way he wishes.

You wrap your arms around his thick neck and kiss him, really kiss him, like you’re surrendering yourself to him.

Suddenly he lifts you with his strong arms, throws your legs around his waist and starts devouring your mouth like an offering.

You feel his hot cock pulsating between your bodies and you mumble against his lips,

“Fuck me, Joel. Ruin me.”

With a growl he helps you to sit back on Tommy’s thighs.

Your stepdad’s eyes dart between yours as he cups your cheek, “ya making me jealous, sweetheart,” with a smirk he adds, “I love it.”

He’s not lying, judging by the way his hard cock is smearing precum over your belly, and you smile, taking it in your hand and lifting your hips.

Joel encourages you, his heavy hand on your shoulder,

“Yeah, like that, baby.”

Eyes locked with Tommy’s you sink on his shaft in one go and you both moan, joined at last, relishing this sensation.

“Fuck, you’re wet, babygirl. So warm.” You press your tits to his chest, nuzzling his neck and start moving on his length, up and down, slowly and steadily. His hands grab your ass and he kneads and spreads your asscheeks while his low moaning in your ear makes your head spin.

“Ahhh—That’s my good girl—sweet pussy—riding me so well—missed it—hnggg.”

Then he looks up at his brother and grunts,

“Fuck, let’s do it, Joel, gonna come soon.”

“Daddy was celibate just like you, angel. Savin’ his dick for his dear stepdaughter,” Joel chuckles, stepping on the bed and getting on his knees behind you with a grunt. “Miracle that he didn’t bust a nut yet.”

“Fuck off,” Tommy groans and adds, “hope we won’t break the bed,” he smiles at you but you couldn’t care less about it.

“Daddy, what should I do now?”

Instead of Tommy, Joel replies, “Lie forward and enjoy, baby. Your daddies gonna do all the work.”

Tommy nods with a reassuring smile and you lean on his chest, your eyes locked.

Tommy’s cock twitches inside you when you feel Joel’s hands grip your hips and his fat tip prod your already full pussy.

“Be careful, Joel,” Tommy says as his hand rubs your cheek and he stares into your widened eyes.

He moves his thumb to your lips and says, “Suck, my love.”

You feel butterflies in your belly, hearing the pet name, and take his thick finger between your lips and start sucking. It instantly calms you down.

At this moment Joel pushes his tip fully in and you whine around your stepdad's thumb.

“Shhh, the head’s the meatiest part, angel. Now it’ll slide in like a knife through butter.”

Surprisingly enough he’s not lying. The burning you felt before subsides and with his fingers digging into your hips, Joel parts your walls, inserting his whole cock into your slicked up pussy and bottoms out with a roar.

“Fuck me,” he growls and laughs, “My little niece has a perfect hole.”

He slaps your ass lightly and your pussy clamps around their fat cocks, making both of them groan.

“Oh my god, I’m so full,” your voice is shaky, endorphins already coursing through your body.

“Yes, sweetheart, you did it. Shit, it’s so tight inside you now. It feels amazing.” Tommy’s head falls back against the headboard as his eyes flutter shut.

You almost giggle at how great it feels, then take a deep breath and whine,

“Fuck me, please.”

“Damn, you don’t have to ask twice, baby,” Joel gruffs and pulls his cock out almost to the tip before rolling his hips back into you.

The sensation almost sends you over the precipice. You squeeze your eyes shut, your nails scratching Tommy’s chest, and he hisses and thrusts his hips up into you. You gasp when they both start moving and in a few moments the brothers find a perfect rhythm of fucking your stretched hole, their stiff cocks, sliding in and out of your channel, are drawing moans and whimpers out of your open lips.

While Joel is concentrating on balancing his weight on his knees and stuffing your hole, Tommy makes sure to kiss and lick every spot he can reach. His tongue swirls around your nipples, hands grab your flesh, teeth nip your skin. He paints your neck with hickeys, gently kissing the pain away, until his lips reach yours and he kisses you, while the two cocks are fucking you.

Joel interrupts your kiss when his hand wraps around your throat and he pulls you closer to him. Your back arches and you look up at his face, hovering over yours, as he growls,

“Here’s my sweet niece— our pretty fuck doll.”

He begins snapping his hips into you harder, faster sending his cock deeper and Tommy follows his suit, thrusting his member up into your pussy with the same rhythm.

“I told him ya a slut—ahhh, fuck— and look at ya,” he smirks, ruining your pussy, holding your neck tightly, “his good girl’s bouncing on two big dicks, pleading to be fucked like a whore she is.”

“Dreams do come true,” you mumble back with a hazy smile.

Suddenly Tommy’s fingers swirl around your clit and the sensation together with the filthy words, spilling out of Joel’s mouth, pushes you over the edge and you come, harder than ever, trembling between the men, squeezing their cocks with your pulsating pussy while tears of bliss stream down your cheeks.

With a groan Joel licks a tear off your face and pushes you on Tommy’s chest before immediately exploding into your core, spurting warm cum deep inside you.

While you’re still shaking with your orgasm, Tommy embraces your body tightly and begins coming too, pumping you full of his load. Both men are thrusting, the rhythm uneven and hectic, and you’re milking their cocks until their balls are empty. You feel bloated with the amount of cum they squirted into you and soon it starts leaking out around their cocks and sliding down your thighs.

Gradually your climax dissipates while the men are still inside you. The room gets filled with heavy breathing of the three of you. Joel’s manhood slides out of your pussy first and he tilts your head to him and plants a quick kiss on your lips.

“Keep ‘er plugged, brother,” Joel gruffs, getting up, plops in your chair and lights another cigarette. “Happily,” Tommy murmurs into your ear, before he starts peppering soft kisses along your neck. You giggle when his mustache is tickling you, and to make him stop, you press your lips to his and you make out while his softening manhood is still buried deep inside you, in the pool of their cum.

Joel doesn’t ruin this post-orgasmic moment between his younger brother and you, the room is quiet except for the sounds of lip smacking and him smoking. And you’re grateful to him.

When you finally part from each other, Tommy helps you to lie down next to him. The mess between your legs makes you whine and Tommy gets you some tissues and helps you to clean yourself.

Then you settle down next to him on the bed, your cheek on his shoulder and your leg thrown over his thigh.

Meanwhile Joel puts his jeans back on without zipping them up and rests in the chair.

Tommy and you don’t care about the clothes, both reveling in the afterglow. Your eyes are closing when suddenly Tommy asks,

“Do you have any plans for thanksgiving holidays?”

You blink a few times trying to understand the question and gather your thoughts.

“I…Mel invited me to spend them with her family… but I don’t know. Why?” You tilt your head up to look at him.

“I’m moving back to Austin. Gonna live with Joel for now until I find my own place. Maybe you can visit me there. Us.”

Your heart sings and stomach flutters with excitement when you hear his invitation.

“Sounds nice,” you murmur, barely keeping yourself from squealing. Then you look at Joel.

“Would you mind?”

His piercing eyes slide along your naked body, linger on your lips and then lock with yours.

“I wouldn’t. Always nice to have a good pussy in the house.”

You roll your eyes and Tommy shoots Joel a glare before talking to you again,

“What about Christmas?”

You try to hide a wide grin, biting your lower lip.

“You might meet someone by then, daddy. Get yourself a girlfriend,” you murmur, drawing hearts on his chest with your index finger.

“I won’t. I don’t need anyone else.”

He places his hand under your jaw and tilts your head up.

“You’re the only one I need, sweetheart.”

You’re searching for lies in his eyes or his words but don’t find any. Your throat tightens and tears sting your eyes but you blink them away and reach up to give him a kiss. You pour all your love into it, need and desire in every stroke of your lips and tongue.

A few minutes in heaven are interrupted by Joel’s gruff voice,

“Before you swallow each other whole, let’s go find a bar and get me a drink.”

You giggle against Tommy’s lips and turn to your step uncle.

“I know a good place.”

You try to get up but your legs are still weak from all the orgasms, your pussy sore from the double-cock-pounding, so you almost fall, but Tommy’s strong arms help you up.

The brothers smirk and exchange glances, visibly proud of what they’ve done to you, when you stagger to the wardrobe. You’re still leaking and the thought that their cum is going to seep out of your pussy for days, makes you smile.

“Wear something slutty for us, angel,” Joel orders, putting on his mesh top. Then you feel his bulge press to your naked ass as he whispers against your cheek, “And no panties. Wanna play with your messy cunt under the table.”

The vision painted by your mind sends a shiver through your body and your clit twitches.

“Ok, uncle,” you agree and he lightly slaps your ass.

“Good little slut.”

Already dressed, Tommy comes up to your two and you turn around to the men. Joel’s bulge pokes your hip and his sticky gaze slides up and down your body. Tommy places his hand on your asscheek and gives it a gentle squeeze, cooing at you with a warm smile,

“Our good girl.”

You bite your lip, batting your lashes at the men, and purr with a mischievous smile,

“We’re gonna have so much fun together.”

Thank you for reading!❤️ Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! l'd love to hear your thoughts🌺💕

Part 5 || SERIES MASTERLIST |I Tommy’s Visit MASTERLIST

Tag list for the series:@milla-frenchy @iamasaddie @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @nana90azevedo @mermaidgirl30 @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @obscurexsorrows @tammythr @ratoonstown @anama-cara @pedge-page @huskyfox5 @ashleyfilm @neverwheremoonchild @stevie75 @untamedheart81 @puduvallee @theoraekenslover @eloquentdreamer @ashhlsstuff @evolnoomym @pinkiec6-rubi @guelyury

Tommy tag @huskyfox5

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk

If you'd like to be tagged in the series or in anything else let me know!

[anthotneystark]

I wanna reach out and grab ya

(edit: now on ao3!)

In the aftermath, as the dust settles, the world shakes.

He expects it, but it still catches him off balance.

He leans against the ambulance, brushes off Nancy’s comment about him needing medical care. Jonathan gives him a look like he wants to call him out on it, but he lets it go. He’s not sure how long he’s been awake, but he knows that if either of them really pressed him, he’d fold like a paper bag.

You know, easily but with a decent amount of noise.

It’s all he can do to keep upright, using the cool metal door to help. The world doesn’t exactly feel steady, but he took a few hits to the head and he’s sure that’s not helping. There’s a ringing in his ears, his sides ache, his face burns, and he’s not altogether sure how long he’s been awake. He’s sure it’s been somewhere along the lines of too long. He’s not looking forward to going home, not when all he’s got waiting there is a cold, empty house. His parents won’t be back for a few more weeks.

Even if there’s a part of him, a big part if he can admit it, that desperately wants his mom to be there, he’s not going to call and ask for her. He’s supposed to be an adult now, he’s supposed to be growing up, he can’t call for her.

Even if it stings a little, watching other people reuniting with their families.

He loses track of time a little, and is only snapped out of it when he’s dragged into a hug. It’s tight, warm, and so gentle for how fierce it is. He reflexively hugs back before he puts it all together, before he recognizes that it’s Claudia Henderson. She’s saying something, but he can’t really hear it because he’s too busy trying to catch up on what exactly is happening. When she pulls back, she either repeats it or it’s a different question.

Robin answers before he can.

“Yeah, Steve’s gonna stay with me tonight.”

“I am?”

“Yeah, dingus, remember?”

“Right, yeah, I’m staying with her tonight.” Except. “How are we getting to your place? I lost my keys,” he adds.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, I’ll take you,” Claudia says. A godsend, really, always. He’s going to need to get new keys entirely given that his have probably been melted by the fire, but he can’t tell her that.

Robin sticks to his side as they go to the car, her hand slides into his and he holds on tight. He doesn’t let go until they’re in her house, after the quiet car ride where he almost dozed off a dozen times. Her parents are at work, both on the night shift at the moment, so it’s just them. Convenient, given that they’re probably going to wake up screaming at some point. She shoves him into the bathroom first and he uses her strawberry shampoo and doesn’t bother to even attempt anything resembling his usual process for cleaning up.

While she takes her turn, he pulls on the clothes she set out. A Hawkins Band tee shirt that’s a little tight and a pair of gym shorts that are probably bigger than his own. He’s almost dozing when she starts messing with his hair, helping to dry it without him even noticing she’d finished her shower. It’s more a nervous movement than anything, but it feels nice.

“We’re going to need to keep some of your clothes here, you know.”

“Why?”

“So you have something to wear, obviously.”

Obviously. Because he’s going to stay with her sometimes. He should have her clothes at his place too then, even if he’s perfectly willing to let her raid his closet. He likes the idea though, the plan to mesh themselves together already. He’s never had anyone in his life who’s made themselves at home in his heart this quickly.

He’s not sure when he drifts off, when she tugs him the rest of the way onto the bed, when she pulls the blanket up, only distantly feels the way she leans into him, the way he reflexively curls into her.

She feels like she’s always been here with him and he can’t figure out how he lived without her.

----------

Robin is perfect.

Not like, literally, and it’s not the same as when he’d say it about Nancy.

That’s the other thing that he figures out with her. He’s really not in love with Nancy. He’d said it, but it really sinks in later. It sinks in the first time they talk about romance, as he tries to give her flirting advice while she laughs at him and asks if he needs a new whiteboard.

They do mingle their closets too, as planned. She still steals his clothes, and he ends up wearing her tee shirts more than his own. She takes him thrifting and shows him all her secrets and he teaches her the art of negotiation in stores.

(She’s in awe when he talks down a sales clerk over a stain that he then magics away in the laundry room at his house.)

He shows her how he learned to cook and she helps him to get creative with new ideas. She demands the first bite every time, and he’s happy to share it.

Her parents welcome him though. Her mom teaches him more about first aid than he learned lifeguarding, and her dad teaches him more about cars in his spare time. He’d known some, but it’s nice, being taught instead of just figuring things out on his own through trial and error. It doesn’t take long for him to get fully intermingled in the Buckley family and it’s the most love he’s ever felt.

Somewhere between the whiteboard and that first night spent sharing a bed, they become SteveAndRobin. Somewhere between her mom finishing her shift and finding them curled up on the couch watching cartoons (because after being exposed to terrifying monsters and soldiers, cartoons are necessary) and her dad coming home to find all three of them wrapped up in it, he finds out he fits perfectly in this space.

Somewhere between the first family dinner and the start of the school year, he unofficially becomes a Buckley.

Sitting there in the hospital waiting room, collapsed into a chair because he’s never felt this exhausted, with Robin at one side and Dustin at the other, with Erica and Lucas whispering with Nancy, with Eddie and Max in surgery, he feels it all building up. All the feelings he’d tried to push down, the fear and panic and pain, bubbling up to the surface. He’s not really looking where his eyes are aimed, not even paying attention until Robin is forcing his heavy, aching limbs up and toward an empty room. She gives him a look as she leaves him on the bed and he’s not even confused about her leaving him there to go back to the waiting room because it’s better if she stays with Dustin anyway.

Except then the door is opening again, with a familiar and welcome sight stepping in.

And then it’s all too much.

Those emotions bubble over with a half-sobbed “Mom” and then arms are around him, holding him together as he splinters into a million pieces.

His mother smells like expensive perfume, floral and chemical and strong. But Betty Buckley smells like antiseptic and cinnamon and it’s the most comforting smell in the world right then.

She doesn’t question the grime or blood staining his clothes, doesn’t try to get him to tell her what happened, just holds him because he can’t break in front of the kids, can’t let them see how much he’s struggling right now. He needs this, is the thing. He hasn’t really broken down yet because he has to be the strong one, he has to be tough, even if it kills him, but she’s safe. She’s safe enough for him to let go.

She lets him get it all out, and still doesn’t ask anything. It doesn’t really matter, not at the moment, so she just brushes his hair off his forehead, uses a damp cloth to wipe away some of the dirt, helps him to pull on scrubs before halting that process to treat his back and arms and sides and neck. He’s gone a little numb, but she moves quick anyway. And then he’s on his back, an IV hooked into his hand, and she’s pressing a kiss to his forehead and telling him to rest.

So he does.

It’s not a conscious decision, more like he was just waiting for someone to tell him he could.

When he wakes, Robin is in the bed next to him. Dustin is on a rolling cot against the wall. He knows without knowing that Max is down the hall, Lucas and Erica are with her, and Nancy is probably bossing around everyone in that way she does that he can’t help respecting. He doesn’t stay awake long.

----------

He’s going stir crazy.

There’s a lot of mixed feelings. On one hand, he’s slept a lot. On the other, the town is a little broken. Robin and Dustin are volunteering, and he’ll join them when he can get out there, but Richard Buckley is under strict orders to keep him from making an escape. The plant has been temporarily shut down, and he’s a glass half-full kind of guy, but it’s really inconvenient for Steve’s desire to be out of the hospital.

He still loves him though, really.

He finally gets a window when Rich steps out for real food.

(It had been hilarious when he and Robin established their dads are both “Richard”, but while Steve’s dad thinks shortening it sounds ridiculous, Robin’s dad loves to give himself new short names at every opportunity. The week he wanted to go by Chard was a fun week.)

He goes for the door, playing nonchalant, and is dismayed to find someone sitting outside.

“He told me you’d try and escape,” the man says, not looking up from his newspaper.

“I’m not escaping,” he lies.

“Humor me.” The man looks over at him then and Steve has to bite back his surprise. “Huh. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say your last name isn’t Buckley.”

“It’s not.”

“Then why have I been hearing for months about Ritchie’s boy?”

“Technically I am that.”

“Not the right one though.”

“No, but that’s sematics.”

“You’re missing an ‘n’ there, son.” The correction is gentle, carrying the tone of someone who’s used to reminding someone else of little details. For some reason, it doesn’t sting like it did when other people corrected him.

“Right, yeah.”

“You had a bit of blood loss, I hear. Maybe you should lay back down again.”

“I can’t. There’s…people are out there and need help. Other people got hurt worse than me. I can’t just lay here and do nothing.”

“You’re not doing nothing, you’re recovering.”

“I’m fine.”

“Doesn’t sound like you are,” he half mumbles, and god, it’s so familiar it aches.

“I don’t know why you’re focused on keeping me in bed. You of all people should be fine with me going out there to help out.” There’s a beat of silence, where Steve thinks he maybe overstepped, getting just a sigh in return.

“Maybe. But I know damn well how important you are to a friend of mine and he asked for a favor. I’m not about to let him down.”

“Mr. Munson –”

“Wayne.”

“…Wayne. You should go back to Eddie. He needs you more.”

“He’s got a visitor already. I’m not hovering.”

“I think you’re hovering a bit here.”

“Well opinions are like assholes, son. Everyone’s got one.” It’s enough to startle a laugh out of him, as Wayne stands up and ushers him back into the room. He didn’t notice while he was standing there as the pain in his muscles, the itching of the scabs, the exhaustion in his bones, creeps back up on him. He protests, but doesn’t really fight as he’s nudged back into the too firm mattress.

“Get some more rest, kid. Long days are coming, take advantage while you can.”

----------

“I just don’t get it!”

“Is he still talking about this?”

Robin’s groan is the only answer he needs. Dustin, back on his usual arguments after saving the world again, is expanding his hobby. Now he’s not just bugging Steve and Robin about their love life (love lives?), he’s dragging others in on the argument too.

“Dusty-buns, you seem to be awful involved in this,” Eddie teases. “Maybe you have a crush on Robin.” She makes a face, throws a marshmallow at him, and Steve snorts as he cackles.

“No! I just don’t know why they won’t date! Eddie, back me up on this,” Dustin says. “They’re perfect for each other! They laugh at the same jokes, share clothes all the time, and don’t even argue, Steve, I’ve seen her wear your jeans before and you’ve worn her sweaters. They share food with each other, spend all their time together, and they share chapstick!”

“Hey, we don’t spend all our time together! Sometimes I wait for her to bike to my house.”

“Not helping, babe.”

“See!” Dustin is probably seconds from losing his marbles, and Steve really should put him out of his misery, but it’s too funny still.

“You’re missing some key information, boy-genius,” Eddie says.

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that they’re never going to date.”

“That’s what doesn’t make sense!”

“Robin, pass me our chapstick,” Steve says, just to make Dustin a little more insane.

“You had it last. Steven, did you lose our chapstick?”

“I definitely gave it back to you.”

“Here you go,” Eddie says, tossing the little tube to Steve with a grin. Dustin’s eyes dart between the three of them like he’s just gotten new information.

“Eddie. Are you…dating Robin?”

It’s Steve’s turn to groan, and he doesn’t need to look to see the face Robin is making.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson, Eddie is dating me!” Now he’s silent. And Steve is going to panic if he stays silent.

“Huh. That makes a lot of sense. You were weirdly jealous.”

“I was what? No I wasn’t!”

“You kind of were,” Robin adds.

“And it makes sense why you wouldn’t date Robin, who is literally perfect for you.”

“How many times do I have to tell you we’re just friends.”

“Yeah, and I could be literally perfect for him, pipsqueak,” Eddie says, grabbing one of Robin’s marshmallows to throw at him.

“You and Robin are still weirdly codependent, it has to be said,” Dustin insists, batting away Eddie’s attempts to ruffle his hair.

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you get psychically linked to each other. Get used to it, Henderson.”

“You’re what?!” Eddie and Dustin’s voices overlap, but they’re both drowned out by his and Robin’s laughter.

Their expressions alone are worth the lecture they’re going to get about keeping secrets.

[sparklingblu]

Eroverse

Pt.3 - Alpha & Omega

Yeji x Male Reader (ft. Kazuha)

Good news. None.   

Bad news. Where do you even start?   

The worst would be the fact that you can't feel your body. Your eyes seem to be the only functioning organ. To add insult to injury, your whole body is bare, and your clothes are nowhere to be found. You curse yourself for not grabbing your clothes before you get teleported back from that boxing ring. No use regretting it now. Even if you manage to move your limbs somehow, you are trapped in a bar restroom butt naked. Can this day get even worse?   

To be honest, you expect yourself to develop some kind of resistance to all those headaches and pain after passing out four times in a day. Seems like there's no improvement. You can just hope no one comes knocking at the door. That leads you to wonder, how long have you been gone? The first time you encounter Rei or what seems to be Rei, it takes almost an hour. But at least she obeys every command you give so it isn't much of a struggle. The second time, however, you have to wrestle with Eunbi first before you finally tame her, as the quest had said. You are certain more than an hour has flown by.    

Your phone chimes with a notification nearby. No doubt from the 'Ero' app. You desperately want to check it but there's not much you can do when your body feels like a lump of clay. So, you continue doing what you initially were, staring at the ceiling. Funny enough, seeing the ceiling has become a kind of relief after losing and gaining consciousness multiple times. At least, it reminds you that you are alive.  

Once again, you can't help but think of all the unanswered questions that have piled up even more after your encounter with Eunbi. The voice that consistently keeps praising you after you complete a quest, the idols that you have met who are not actually idols. You are pretty sure about that now. Are they replicas? clones? Then what does that make you? A test subject for some crazy experiment that involve fucking idol clones? As usual, no answer.  

If you look at it from the bright side, ignoring all the pain and confusion, you have used two idols for your release already. Getting to fuck one idol should be considered universally lucky. But two? You had to save a nation in your past life for that. Whether they are real or not, they still look exactly the same so it doesn't really make a difference. However, the downside shouldn't be ignored either. If you try to complete one more quest, fuck one more idol, you might not wake up again. With each jump, your body seems to weaken. It starts with headaches and soreness and now you are paralyzed. Not really a price worth paying. You are not perverted enough to trade your life for sex.  

Actually, you might have passed that point already. If you inevitably have to die, you want to go out with honor. Not as a naked corpse in a restroom. "Oh, how did he die?" "I don't know, probably from jerking off naked in the toilet" Yep. Not a good idea.   

A few minutes pass and you start considering screaming for help. You have to sacrifice every bit of dignity you have but at least you won't die. Thankfully, it doesn't happen. Blood starts to flow again in your fingers and soon, you are well aware of the cold floor on your skin.   

You sit up groggily, propping yourself against the toilet for support. Taking a few deep breaths, you picked up the phone. The screen is full of cracks, it covers almost every part of the notification on your lock screen but without a doubt, it's from the 'Ero' app.   

"Congrats on completing your second quest. Please wait patiently for the next one"  

Typical. Just congratulations. Not to mention you nearly got killed. Thank you very much.   

Then your eyes move to the upper corner of the screen displaying the time, 8:48. You can't be sure, but you are certain no more than a few minutes have passed since you passed out. How is it possible? Even without the time you spent laying paralyzed, it takes at least an hour to do everything you have done with Eunbi. No wonder no one comes looking for you.   

Maybe time flows differently in whatever places you get teleported to. Another mystery. Your head starts throbbing, a sign of an oncoming headache. God, can that app let you off for once? There's a silver lining though. Your clothes lie in a pile in a corner. You have to shut your mouth before you start screaming with joy.   

After changing hastily and washing your face, you exit the room. Russell and the rest of the crew are still at their table, their voices getting louder by the second. The effects of all the drinks they had had are evident on their red puffy faces. They don't even seem to notice your absence except Russell, who raises his hand at the sight of you.  

"Man, you have been gone pretty long, you ok?" he asks.  

"Yeah, I'm fine.."  

"You sure? You look like you just woke up"  

He's not wrong but no use making him worried.  

"Trust me. I'm ok. Just a bit tired, i guess"  

"Have you been working late again?"  

Gosh, this guy cares about you more than your mom. You take this as your chance to get out of here.  

"Yeah, got some articles to finish. I have been procrastinating on this one I have to send tomorrow. Mind if I leave early? I need to sleep early"  

"Of course. Don't work too hard, huh? You still have to write a best-seller remember?"  

You simply smile and leave, grabbing your coat. The cold breeze offers you some comfort to the headache that's becoming unbearable. You just want to lay down on the spot and fall asleep. You walk back to your room, trying not to pass out on the way. The night is still young, and the sound of traffic and the chatter of people follows you everywhere. Ordinary people enjoying their lives unlike you, who have become a different person in just a day. You were a writer, not a good one but still an average Joe. Now, you fuck idols with the help of an app. Anyone who hear it will suggest you talk to a therapist, and you won't blame them.   

And what is it that makes the app choose you? You have no special abilities other than the fact that you can mimic animal sounds and that's not even a real talent. Perhaps luck has finally found its way to your ever unfortunate life. But can it be called luck with how you become a step closer to death with each quest you take on. 

You are so busy debating with yourself you are completely oblivious to your surroundings. If only you have turned your head to an alley across the street, you would have seen a dark figure with sparkling eyes that follow every one of your movements. A predator lurking in the shadows. 

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎  

A week has passed. The 'Ero' app is silent as ever. 

You find yourself expecting a message for another quest despite promising yourself you won't let your perversion lead you to your demise. You should really start thinking with your brain rather than your dick. 

Three days after your last quest, you even try to enter the 'Ero' app out of curiosity. The app closes automatically. After a few more tries, you give up out of disappointment and shame. Shame for trying to enter the app even after knowing the risks. Shame for being a hopeless pervert. 

You should just stick to jerking off to fancams and pictures, at least that way you won't be playing with your life or getting beat up by an idol. That's what you have been doing since you got smitten by those kpop girls but after the quests you have done, it becomes tedious. You will still pump a load or two after seeing Karina's tits or Sohee's ass but it's nothing compared to Rei's blowjob or Eunbi's titjob. You have become addicted.  

Ironically, you even find yourself dreaming of the darkness, the mahogany room and the boxing ring. This is what Eve might have felt when she's told not to eat the forbidden fruit, you think. Because forbidden things are the most tempting.  

You still write but no longer out of pleasure, just to survive. And that reminds you, you should stop eating take outs and cook something yourself for once. Your room was a mess but now it's a whole trash pile. Plastic boxes and cups from all the take outs you order lie in a mountain at the sink. The trash car comes, you are just too lazy to throw it out. And if you don't do something about that stack of papers on the table, it's gonna touch the ceiling soon.  

In short, you have become a mess. Every time your phone chimes, you would check it in a heartbeat, expecting a text from the 'Ero' app. But of course, it isn't. The app has gone ghost quiet. You are desperately seeking to complete just one more quest. One more idol to fuck. 

You rarely go outside and ignore all the messages your friends and colleagues sent you. There's only one message you want to receive which never comes. 

After a week of living like a vampire, a realization hits you. One so obvious you feel like an idiot not thinking about it sooner. All the problems you are facing are rooted from one single thing, the 'Ero' app. If you delete it, your suffering might end. You can even pretend everything that happened was a dream. 

So, you get out of the bed which you have been laying on for hours and grab your phone on the table. The sudden burst of light in the dark room as the screen opens leaves you seeing black spots. It is nighttime but you haven't opened your curtains in a while, so it doesn't really make a difference.  

You swipe till you land on the 'Ero' app. That little black heart icon. You press on it and the uninstall option pops off. 'Finally' you think. 'It's gonna be over. No more crazy stuffs' though a small voice somewhere in your mind keep insisting. 'But what of the pleasure that rivals no other? What of the idols you will meet?' 'Fuck this' you answer. It's true you are a pervert, but you are not hopeless. You won't die so that you can fuck some clone of an idol.  

Determined, you raise your thumb and nearly press on the uninstall button until-  

Your phone chimes. A notification on the top of the screen.  

"New quest ready, ready for your next adventure chosen one?" 

God damn it. Just when you are determined, this app has to come and ruin it. All the walls you have put up about not being a hopeless pervert crumbles in milliseconds. You want this after all. You don't want the app gone. You are just mas that it won't give you a quest. Now what you have been begging for a week is right in front of your eyes. You have to make a choice. Yes or No? 

This quest can be your last. A punishment for letting your dick makes your decisions. You can ignore it. Delete the app and go on with your life as normal. But will your life ever be normal after deleting the app? Who can say you won't be wondering what the third quest would be and which idol you would meet? And worst of all, you will become ordinary again without the app. No more magic portals to creepy rooms.  

You don't want to be ordinary. You have tried your best to become something others aren't all your life. Now, the chance has been presented to you. Your own personal paradise. All yours. No one else's.  

So, you tap on the message, opening the app to the loading screen with the black heart. Even the sight of it gets excitement creeping up your legs already. Then you close your eyes immediately before they get torched by that blinding flash. After waiting for a minute just to be safe, you open your eyes again. A text box sits in the center of the screen, instructions to your next quest. Except that you can't read them. 

The words are fuzzy and blurred. Some even completely redacted by black lines. It is as though someone has made them unreadable on purpose. What the hell is going on? 

This can be another challenge, a harder quest. Even more difficult than trying to defeat an idol who nearly crashes you to pulp. A higher risk of death. A tinge of regret starts to overwhelm you but it's too late. 

The all-familiar darkness envelopes you once again. Then comes the icy cold spike that tears through your organs. Your vision fades and you crumple like paper. 

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎  

Your old friend accompanies your wake. Of course, it's the headache. Fortunately, it isn't as strong as before or maybe you have just been out of touch you forget the pain. Nevertheless, you are alive.  

You don't get to celebrate much though because the sight that greets you when you open your eyes sucks the joy right out of your heart. It isn't the ceiling this time. At least seeing the ceiling would have been a comfort. What you see is anything but comforting. 

To start, you are not in a room like you were the last two quests. You are surrounded by marble columns that support the circular dome on top. A temple like those in Greek times. A huge part of the building has crumbled, giving you a clear view of what lies ahead.  

Your heart leaps. Before your eyes lies what you can only describe as an apocalyptic city. Actually, an apocalyptic Greek city. Smoke billows from several temples writhed in flames. Most of the bronze and marble statues lining the sandy paths are missing a body part, some have been completely destroyed. A colosseum crumbles to dust right in front of your eyes though you have no idea what a Roman structure is doing in a Greek city. It would have been a beautiful place if it's not for the fact that it looks like a war zone.  

The temple you are in is not holding out really well either. From time to time, debris would fall from the ceiling, and you can only hope the roof won't collapse on top of you. You try to move and that's when you realize you have been tied up. Looking down, you find yourself bound to a chair with metal chains, your hands at the back. Your legs are no exception either. They have been tied up as well. 

This quest is starting to look hopeless already. It would be so easy for someone to gut you right now and you can do nothing but watch. You could call out for help except that there isn't a living being in sight. Even if someone does come, you can't be certain if they are friends or foes. 

You remember the surge of strength that has come to you when you were at the brink of death. It would be really really helpful if you could get that kind of help right now. Though you doubt that kind of chance will be given twice. 

"Oh, he can't help you this time" As if reading your thoughts, a voice rings out behind a column.  

The owner of the voice emerges. A figure with fiery red hair wearing a top of matching color. The black jeans accentuate her slender legs. Her ruby red eyes fixed on you with a steely gaze. Yeji, the leader of Itzy. 

"Ehm....Yeji?" Obviously, the idol before you is not the real Yeji. But you ask anyway. 

"In a sense" She replies. "But that won't matter anymore after I kill you" 

Just wonderful. Another idol who wants you dead.  

"I gotta praise you though. You are pretty strong compared to those before you" 

"Others? What are you talking about?" 

"Oh, do you think you are the only one chosen by the app, chosen one?" She strains the last part just to sound sarcastic.  

"Look, I don't even understand what's happening much less answer your questions. I don't even know why you want to kill me" 

"Oh, you very much do" She snaps back. "Rei? Eunbi? The things you did to them. You are lucky I let you live this long" 

"I was just doing what the app told me to" 

"Oh, yes. That stupid 'Ero' app. You love it so much you walked right into my trap" 

The realization hits you like a bucket of cold water. The quest that arrives right when the app is nearly deleted. The distorted letters.  

"It's you" You say. "You are the one who set up this quest" 

"Correct" Her voice is dripping with glee. "Aren't I clever?" 

"Ok, Yeji....or whatever. If you let me go, I promise I won't-" 

"Oh, shut up. You will follow where your dick leads you" 

She's not wrong. Still, it sort of hurts. 

"There's nothing you will get out of killing me" You try the other route. 

"Oh, there's a lot I can get out of killing you" Yeji muses, walking closer. "And I will start by destroying the thing that have been distracting my kind" 

You don't know what she means but you don't need to wonder for long because with the flick of her wrist, your shorts come off. Look, you know some guys are really into the bondage stuff when the girl ties you up and all, but it isn't much fun when your partner is trying to kill you. But there's a bigger threat than getting killed right now. 

"Wait, you don't mean my-"  

"Dick? Yes. If it's gone, you can no longer bother us, right?" 

"You can't do that! It's illegal" 

"Look around you. You are no longer on earth" 

You are making empty threats, and you know it too well. But you don't want your bloodline to end with you. 

"Look, maybe we can make a deal or something" 

"Too late" Yeji unfolds her palm and a gladius, a roman sword, manifests out of thin air. She's definitely not human. 

You tilt your head in panic as the point hovers over your throat.  

"I should have just killed you but where's the fun in that?" 

Your breath hitches. You don't trust yourself to talk without blabbering out more pleas that will make Yeji even madder. And even worse, your dick is rock hard because of the adrenaline.  

"Bye bye" She raises the sword and brings it down on your springing mamba. You close your eyes. bracing yourself for the pain. But it never comes because a voice cuts through the tense atmosphere.  

"Wait!" Another female voice and running footsteps. You open your eyes. 

Behind Yeji is Kazuha, the japanese member of Le Sserafim. Her pink satin dresses look out of place among the ruins of the city, like a runaway bride.  

"Kazuha?" Yeji lowers the gladius. "Oh, let me guess. He sent you" 

"You need to stop this. Killing him won't stop our problems" 

"You don't know that for sure. One less candidate means less chance for the mark to emerge" 

"What mark?" instantly, you regret not keeping your mouth shut. They want to cut your dick off for christ's sake. 

"The mark of-" Kazuha starts to answer but Yeji cuts her off.  

"Shut up" Yeji snaps. "He's going to die anyway" 

"Stop this, Yeji. He's going to be so mad if he finds out" 

"So what? He has been a dick all those times. You still take orders from him?" 

"He can be crazy sometimes but it's our job to serve him" 

"Bullshit. You are just too scared to disobey" 

"Yeji, please" 

Kazuha's words have no effect. Yeji closes in on you again and raises her gladius. This time there's no escape for you.  

Then the strangest thing happens. A burst of energy erupts from your core, spreading to every cell in your body. All the fatigue and panic are gone. It's like being dipped in water when you are high. You feel pumped, ready to do anything. More specifically, ready to fuck anyone because the lust inside you has never been so strong. 

"It can't be..." Yeji backs away, dropping her gladius. Her face that of pure horror. 

You look down and nearly scream yourself. On your pelvis is an upside-down pentagram, like those used in cult rituals and its glowing red hot though you don't feel any pain. Further down is an even stranger sight. Your dick is literally glowing. Upon taking a closer look, you realize it’s surrounded by a golden aura like it's something powerful. All the chains binding you shatter to pieces, and you rise.  

"The mark" Kazuha mutters dreamily. "It's real" 

"No!" Yeji screams, falling down. "It's a myth. How could it be-" She picks up her gladius and instantly charges. You back away but there isn't a need. Because Yeji got thrown away as though hit by an invisible force. 

She crouches on the floor, panting. "This is madness" 

Kazuha just stands there frozen. Hey eyes fixed on your glowing cock. 

But you only have a single objective in your mind. Ruin Yeji. Use her. Punish her. She is nothing but an easy prey.  

"Stay away" Yeji shouts. In the end, the hunter has become the hunted. 

You close in, grabbing her wrists and pulling her up. Then you slam her onto a column. You don't intend to hurt her though. She's in for something much worse.  

"I will kill you" She mutters but the panic is clear as day in the way her words stutter. Grabbing her waist, you trace your lips across the pulsing veins of her neck all the way to her jaw. Then a bite on her earlobe. Yeji squirms. 

"Still want to kill me?" The question is left unanswered as Yeji's lips part to give way to your tongue, which invades into her oral opening. Yeji's pupils widen when her own tongue got tickled by the foreign one. Her screams come out muffled. Yeji tries to pull away but the grip of your lips on hers is stronger than ever.  

All the while, your hands make their way down to her waist belt, enjoying the feeling of her firm skin. Sliding down further, you slip into her jeans, squeezing that tone ass of hers.  

The writhing of her body is cut short when you slid a finger into her tight asshole, which makes her limp like a rug doll. At first, it's hard to move much with how hard her hole grips you but after a few pumps, it starts to oblige, allowing swifter movements.  

As you finger her asshole, you don't stop the mouth action either. You can no longer tell whose mouth is moister as your saliva got mixed from how long you have been tasting her. All that matters is you keep her mouth shut. The strands of red hair fall over, obscuring your vision partly but you press on, taking in her taste each and every second. Your dick is pressed flat against her tummy in this position and it's getting you even more riled up. You can take care of it later. 

With your unoccupied hand, you squeeze her soft cheeks, which fold like rubber under your touch. The pace of your finger that keeps fucking her asshole remains unwavering. In fact, its pounding her now the same way your cock would. At the same time, you are tongue fucking her. Both of her holes are stuffed and there's nothing she can do about it except produces more degraded sounds. 

Yeji's legs start to shake, inevitably nearing her peak whether she likes it or not. Saliva drips from the corner of her lips and a strand of the remnants connect your lips as your tongue exits her mouth. You are not letting her off. You just want to hear her moan. 

"I...will kill you..." Her voice comes out husky, so it sounds more like an empty promise than a threat. 

"Just shut up and cum bitch" Your thrusts become forceful. Perhaps you are hurting her but Yeji's moaning too much to care. Unable to resist the sight of her skin, you bite down on her neck, pitching up her voice.  

Finally, Yeji breaks. In a frenzy of pain and bliss, she lets out a carnal groan which rings out through the temple. Juice gush out from her pussy when your finger thrust in one last time. Each time her body convulses, she lets out a moan, each one louder than the last. She is still trembling nonstop even after you pull out, her jeans stained with her own bodily fluid. 

"Did you just come from getting your asshole fingered?" You ask. Yeji can only pant as she props against a column not to tremble from her legs that are on the verge of giving out. 

From the corner of your eyes, you can see Kazuha, her arms folded, watching the whole thing without a single word. She seems to be on your side for now. 

"Tired already?" You ask Yeji. "It's just starting" 

The mark on your pelvis glows brighter, the red rays casting a translucent glow on Yeji. With an iron grip on her shoulders, you turn her around, allowing you the view of her round ass in tight jeans. The stain on her crotch area makes the scene even more lewd. 

"Admit it, Yeji. All this time you have been a slut. My cock is all it takes to wipe that bitchy look off your face" Your cock presses against her clothed ass. 

"I swear I will kill-" 

You pull down her jeans just enough to expose her round butt, stealing the air right out of her lungs. Your palm connects with her supple flesh in a harsh spank, leaving a handprint in red. You deliver a strike for each word that leaves her mouth. It goes like this. 

"I-" 

Spank 

"will-" 

Spank 

"kill-" 

Spank 

"you-" 

The white canvas of her skin is now streaked with scarlet stripes. And you intend to keep it that way because the way her ass jiggle with each spank is too hypnotic to get tired of. The cherry on the top is how she keeps protesting even through the stinging pain. But you are gonna change it real soon. 

With one last strike, you pull back, admiring your handiwork on her ass, which is now the same fiery shade as her hair and tops. Yeji mutters another curse through shallow breath. This bitch is still as cocky as ever. 

Pulling her hair to tilt her head, you whisper into her ear. "Still resisitng, hmm? Should we move on to your next punishment?" Yeji's eyes blaze with fury. "Bastard"  

"So, we are doing it the rough way" You hold her throat in a tight grip with your other hand, restricting any more words from coming out of her vocal cords.  

You rest your rock hard cock between her cheeks, the glow it radiates merging with her reddened buttocks. "I'm gonna fuck your brains out now. And then I wanna know if you still want me dead"  

Yeji can do nothing as you enter her moist slit with one forceful thrust that ripples her cheeks. You don't know if she's a virgin or not but the way her walls hug you tight is giving you ideas. Nevertheless, you push on, breaking through the barriers of her fold with each thrust. It doesn't take much time for you to pound her freely with how wet she already is from earlier. 

Soon, you are hammering her cunt without a care in the world, solely focused on using her as your vessel for pleasure. You will take anything her body can offer and that will be her punishment, to become nothing but your cumdump. Resentment and triumph take over your movements and each thrust leaves her even more breathless despite being choked. 

You loosen your grip on her neck just enough for her to make audible sounds. "Still hate me?" You ask as you pull back all the way and thrust into her slit with all your force. She tenses, her back arched. She answers your question with animalistic sounds only a whore would make. 

"Hmm, you still got a lot to learn" You slip your hands under her top, reaching for her mounds. Yeji's tits aren't qualified to be called huge, but they are still big enough to fill your palm as you knead them. When you twirl her rosy nipples between your index and thumb, she mewls like an animal in heat which is only natural with the way she's getting bred. 

You slow down your thrusts, moving in and out slowly to enjoy the full feeling of her slick velvety walls that trace every inch you fill her up with. Somewhere far away, another building collapsed with a sickening crunching sound. A wave of hot air grazes your skin. But they can do nothing to disturb you from claiming Yeji's cunt thoroughly.  

Her walls start to contrast around you, the sign of an oncoming climax. You thrust with inhuman speed, empowered by the mark, as Yeji had called it. Jolts of energy course through your veins at every moment and you are surprised to find that you are not even sweating, much less tired. You can breed Yeji all day if she isn't already worn out and used up. 

Yeji's eyes roll up, her tongue hanging out in the perfect replication of the ahaego faces you see so often in certain animes. Another flood of her nectar pours out, coating your shaft. You keep fucking through her orgasm, chasing your own high. Yeji's body twists and bends but you keep her in position by wrapping your arms around her waist.  

The friction over her slick walls becomes unbearable and soon you are pumping jets after jets of your fertile seeds into her womb, all the way to the hilt. If Yeji sounds animalistic before, now she's no different from an animal. Guttural sounds betray her lips as she gets filled up to the depths she never knows existed before. When your orgasm subsides, she becomes motionless, her hoarse breaths the only sign of life. 

You pull out and cum drips out of her hole which is clenching onto air as if it needs something stuffed inside. Her punishment is a success. Yeji's got destroyed by the very thing that she wanted to destroy. As you stand there, grinning with victory, the adrenaline starts to drain out of your body. Your legs become sore, and the fucking headache is starting again. The mark on your pelvis dims and fades along with the glow of your spent rod.  

"We need to leave" You are so caught up in the joy of dominating Yeji, you forget Kazuha exists. She's still at her old spot, watching you with interest and a slither of worry. You quickly pull up your shorts though there's no point being shy now. She has seen everything. 

"Leave where?" You ask. "My quest is completed right? I will just pass out and go back" 

"It's not happening this time. He wants to meet you" 

"He?" 

"Look, we don't have much time. He will explain everything to you. I promise" 

"But-" 

The temple rumbles. More debris and dust fall from above.  

"Alright. Good idea" You and Kazuha make it outside just in time before the whole temple collapses. The sound of explosions and crumbling buildings ring out all around you. The air burns your lungs with each breath. 

"Ok, hold my hand" Kazuha says and you oblige. There's no point arguing when you are in the middle of an apocalypse. As Kazuha closes her eyes, a gleaming orb surrounds both of you and you spiral down into a tunnel of light. 

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

(Have been procrastinating on this. Anyway, enjoy~)

[heartmix]

Unwritten Rule - Joe Burrow

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Taylor!reader

Word Count: 3k+

Warning: coach's little sister trope, talks of hazing

A/N: originally a nick bosa fic but he's a trump supporter so no thanks. also got tired of editing this after so long.

Masterlist / NFL Masterlist

It was an unwritten rule not to date any of the coaches' family members. Especially the head coach's little sister. That was the first rule that the veterans in the locker room told him on the first day of camp. Joe was quite confused about why that was the first unwritten rule that his teammates would tell him. Did she work for the organization? How often would she be around? All of these questions and more ran through the quarterback's mind. 

His questions were answered when the second week of camp came around. He saw you there with the coach and sporting a camera in your hands. You're the one that makes everyone look good in the public eye.

"Remember the rule, Burrow." Tyler Boyd said, snapping the rookie out of his trance as they headed to the practice field.

To everyone else, it seemed like he was avoiding you by not interacting with the media which was a good look to his teammates, but he wasn't exactly doing that. He tried to stand out more not only for the coaches, but to be caught on camera by you so hopefully, he would get more attention and a small chance you'd approach him so he didn't have to. No one batted an eye to what he was doing, figuring he was that rookie who wanted to show off like most do. 

His plan seemed to work because he got talked about more thanks to the coaches and your footage which tends to be covered a lot in the media. What shocked him about his plan was that you came up to talk to him, he couldn't believe it worked out.

"Hey, LSU, wait up!" She called out to him as he went for a bathroom break inside the facility where no one was except for a janitor in the halls.

"Oh um hey." He said not really knowing how he should talk to the girl, he didn't want to say the wrong thing and scare her off.

"I just wanted to say that you are one of the best rookies this team has had in a while. Frankly, they really need your talent." She said, making the football player smile and blush at her praises.

"Oh, thanks."

"I forgot to introduce myself, I'm Y/n Taylor," She said holding out her hand to shake which he gladly did.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Joe." He said introducing himself.

"Likewise. I also wanted to ask you if you want your training camp content. I usually send you the folder and every week I add to it. Some players like to keep their training camp content, most of the time it's the rookies since it's their first year." She said motioning to her camera.

"Yeah, sure that'll be great."

"Okay, do you have a way I can contact you? A phone number or email? I usually have your guy's email on my record already, but they haven't given it to me yet. I know they are a bit preoccupied with the hype you bring to the season." At this Joe couldn't stop the blushing that was making its way onto his cheeks. He hoped she took it from the heat of the summer training.

"I like messaging better. I have PTSD from emails from college." Joe said, making her chuckle. He could get used to hearing that sound.

"Tell me about it. Although I don't think I escaped the emails with this job." She said before taking his number down on her phone before bidding farewell and walking back to the field. 

It wasn't that long for the photographer to text him about the content like she promised. In fact, the first time she contacted him was the night that she obtained his number much to the rookie's surprise. Joe figured he made the best decision to give the girl his number. He didn't expect them to talk as often as they did. It started off with a simple question about how he wanted his training camp content to be compiled then in lead up to giving him pointers on his work, she was a Taylor after all. 

It got to the point where he didn't realize them hanging out in person was a normal thing. No way did they hang out at the facility where the Bengals organization could see, heaven forbid he broke the rule. If they did talk it seemed professional and limited like she did with other players.

"I wish I could give you tequila for your nerves." She said, handing him an orange juice before sitting on his couch. It was another one of their weekly hangouts. Today was the day before the first game of the season and nerves were high.

"Tequila does the opposite." He chuckled taking a sip from his drink.

"So what, good old-fashioned beer does it? Oh, or are you a classic man with neat bourbon?" He shrugged not knowing the answer. Sure he drank both seeing as his college days were just months ago.

"I guess just beer does it."

"Well just think of it this way, if you're nervous it means you care. With it being normal for something as big as this, don't let it consume you."

"Well, I wouldn't be so nervous if I didn't have all the media looking at me." He said with a smirk side-eyeing her playfully watching the smile spread onto his face.

"Oh, so it's me making you look good through a lens is why you're getting the media coverage and not because you are a first-round draft pick? Okay, then Burrow." You shook your head while he chuckled. After all this time he will never get used to her compliments. 

More nights like that tend to happen as days go by. Even on some practice days when one didn't feel like driving that day, they would catch a ride with each other. It was a miracle no one suspected a thing. The younger Taylor knew about the unwritten rule which she thought it was stupid of her brother to start it. Even though they weren't dating it could come across like they were so she "followed" the rule for Joe. She knew how badly the rookies could get hazed from the older ones, she didn't want that for him.

A few weeks went by, a few weeks with them "sneaking around". Everything they were doing was borderline relationship territory. That got the quarterback to think why weren't they dating. They have been following the rule like they were and he for sure liked her so why don't they give it a shot?

"You want to go to a very public place well into the season with me?" She raised an eyebrow at the man who picked her up from her place as they began driving around. Although Cincinnati wasn't Hollywood, there would still be people out during the night and more importantly, Joe would be the center of attention if he was spotted.

 "Oh come on, I want to have like a nice night out with you, we don't got work and you can even sleep over at mines' after." He pleaded making the girl smile.

"Sounds like a date Burrow." 

"You wouldn't mind?" He questioned making her chuckle at his seemingly nervous tone opposite to his confidence just a second ago. This seemed to be the trend of him getting surprised when his plan would work.

"Only if you asked properly."

He quickly pulled into a nearby supermarket making her raise an eyebrow at the random location. Before she could unbuckle he told her to wait and he'll be right back, only growing her suspicions. After about 5 minutes he came in the car with red roses making her laugh at the gesture. He knew that he had her swoon already.

"What do you say about going out with me on a date?" He asked handing her the flowers.

"Oh, you know how to get my heart beating don't you." She grabbed the flowers smelling it before admiring them.

"So is that a yes?" He asked with a smile even though he knew the answer, he wanted it to come out of her mouth so he could hear it and savor the moment.

"Yes, going out on a date is exactly what I have been hoping for." 

With it being night time the paparazzi weren't really scattered, they were in places like the clubs or any news about a place they heard about a celebrity being. So there was a low chance of being caught by them. Although they weren't in the clear because of the possibility of fans, there didn't seem to be much out and in a talking mood that night. They settled on a Korean BBQ place that wasn't as busy then going to the movies afterward. Before they knew it the night date came and went with the night ending up back at his place stuffed and tired. 

"You are not too bad with planning a date," she said pulling him onto the couch with her as she snuggled into his side while he wrapped his arm around the back of the couch. 

"I'm glad you like our official date." He said smiling down at the girl. 

"We should make this a regular thing." the girl said absentmindedly. This was one of the most chill dates she's ever had. 

"Dating?" He asked with a raised eyebrow totally confused as to what you were referring to. 

"You actually want to date me? Like you want to deal with me?" She asked now fully looking up at him with shock in her eyes. It was one thing to go out on dates and it was another to be dating. 

"Baby, you are amazing who wouldn't want to be with you? I'd be lucky if I got to call you mine."

"Then why don't you."

"Do you want to be mine, baby?" He asked with a half-smirk half-smile already knowing the answer but still being giddy that it was actually happening. Everything involving her surprised Joe.

"Hmmh I'd love to rookie."

After that moment the rookie could not have been more excited. It was very evident in everything he did. He smiled more, he was more cheery with his teammates, and most of all he played better. Many of his teammates found it strange while the coaches let it go, if he was playing better and he seemed happier it was good for them. It did make it hard for them not to interact too long with each other at practices or games, but no one found out which was good. Well, it was good until they did get spotted.

"Aye Burrow come over here for a second." He heard the voice of Boyd say in a tone he did not like. He was hesitant but went over there as asked.

"What's up?" 

"Why did you have to break the rule?"

"Which rule?" He questioned even though he had a feeling of what they were talking about.

"Oh come on don't play stupid. We saw you kiss her after doing a handshake before you guys parted ways when you went to 'check' something." The vet said making him mentally sigh.

The rookie stood there speechless. What was he supposed to say? What could he say? He was not ready and didn't prepare for a conversation in case they got caught. He was naive to think they weren't going to get caught. Honestly, he did not want to walk on eggshells with his wording so he decided to stay quiet seeing that it was the best option or the only option.

"We told you not to break it. It's a bad idea to be with her." Sam said shaking his head at the rookie while everyone made a sound of agreement.

"Wait why? You didn't tell me all of that." He now said getting defensive over her. Why would they say this type of shit? What was so bad about her? The fact that her brother is the head coach is not the worst thing in the world.

"You thinking banging the coach's sister is a good idea? You must be out of your damn mind. That shit doesn't look good."

"Yeah, whatever." He said to the small group that seemed to really care about this topic before walking away to get ready for the game.

While heading out in not the best mood that didn't stop him from playing like he normally did. What took him out of that mood was seeing her with her camera on the sidelines. They never spoke a single sentence while on the sideline of a game, although today she sensed something was different. She went around taking pictures of the team till she reached him.

"Hey, you gonna drop that frown?" She said as she took his picture of him from the side.

"I will now that you are here." He said honestly as any bad thoughts left his mind once he heard your voice.

"I just want to tell you that you are amazing. Make some plays for my lens huh," she said holding up her camera and making him chuckle.

"Yeah sure, I'll do it for your camera." He said while you playfully shook your head walking away. 

That was all he needed to put on an amazing performance like he has been doing week after week. Did he care that he broke the rule? Not really, I mean why would he? He has been the happiest he has ever been and he's also been playing the best he's ever played. If she is making him a better person and a better player he would choose her any day.

"Can I tell you something?" He said as they walked hand in hand on the way up to his apartment. 

"Anything." 

"You are my good luck charm, do you know that?" The football player said looking down at her, giving her hand a squeeze saying he meant it. 

"I did not know that, but now that I think about it you have been playing better." She said mimicking his smile and squeezed his hand back. 

"And I'm happier." He added bending down for a kiss before the doors to the elevator opened. 

"Well so am I." She smiled back after the kiss. 

"Another thing is that some of the guys found out." He quickly let out once they entered the door to his apartment. 

"Really? Is that why you were upset today? They giving you shit?" she asked concerned for him, not that he can't take it, as she stated it was a stupid rule. 

"Yeah, and they said I shouldn't be with you and shit. But I really don't care about what they think. Once I saw you everything left my mind and at that moment I realized that no one is going to make me change the way I feel about you." He said making the younger girl stare at him in awe.

"Holy shit I love you." She blurted out making them both laugh.

"Oh come on, I said some sappy ass shit for once and you ruin it." He joked which she chuckled at. 

"To be fair I thought I said it only in my mind."

"Well, I love you too." He said leaning in for a kiss which she gladly gave him. 

After that, it seemed like they could care less if they got caught, of course, the older Taylor didn't know yet which is why they were still a bit wary of their surroundings when they were at work. The team wasn't totally on board with the relationship after hearing the unwritten rule for years, but it wasn't their relationship to get into, that and the fact that the lady with the camera knew what they said which was scary whenever they were near her. 

The week before the playoffs. The team's spot was already secured which is why the nerves were really low this game, a chill game if you will. It was an alright day to be holding that camera. She knew that they weren't going to get as amazing plays, so she stuck to pictures only for the game. Although she promised to film some of the plays where Joe was on the field, boy was she glad she did. After an amazing save from almost being sacked, he saw an opening and ran it in for a 35-yard touchdown. After doing a quick show-off celebration moment he saw that his girl was recording and decided to run in her direction and picked her up spinning around forgetting that thousands if not millions were watching, one of those was his coach.

"Woah big guy, a touchdown!" She said after he put her down but still held her by the hips.

"My good luck charm, thank you." He said smiling down at her before taking off his helmet.

"Babe I didn't do anything."

"You seem to be doing a whole lot." The voice of the one and only Zac Taylor said making the two scared. 

"Kyle.." She went on in a warning tone but got cut off by him.

"So are you the reason my rookie has been playing better?" He questioned which confused both of them.

"Yeah, I guess so." She answered hesitantly looking at Joe with a raised eyebrow. Any moment she was waiting for them to get chewed out. 

"Are you the reason for her being happier?" Coach now turned to his player asking him. 

"I believe so," he answered scared of what was to come next.

"I'm glad we all benefit. Don't make that celebration an every-game thing, maybe a once-a-month thing." He said ruffing the younger Taylor's hair and smiling at them before walking away.

"Holy shit you had to tell him like that huh." She smacked his chest, well his padding.

Shyly and with a blush he said, "Sorry it was in the moment."

"I didn't say I didn't like it. Tomorrow's date night, you can pick wherever you want. Now go back over there otherwise we'll get in trouble." She said pointing to the bench where the rest of the offensive line was sitting. Half of them with shocked faces the coach didn't do anything and the other half with smirks, proud of their boy.

"Can I get a kiss?" He said with a smirk making her roll her eyes.

"Quick one." She responded as he leaned down for a small peck before he started to walk away.

"Hey, rookie. Picture?" She called out waving her camera making him laugh. She got the camera up in time for his laugh and a wink that he threw her way. She was definitely his good luck charm.

[bleedingoptimism]

As Steve walks into the grocery store he pulls his sunglasses off, only to put them back on again immediately. The lights of the store make the back of his eyes sting. Hungover from a bad headache, not that people here would care why. Whatever, is not like everyone already doesn’t think he’s an asshole. He doesn’t need to perform for anyone anymore.

A guy, singing to himself down one of the aisles peaks his attention, he’s tall and has long black hair and Steve belatedly remembers that he’s Jon’s friend from California.

“Argyle?” he asks, more to himself than to him, but Argyle turns and smiles at him as if they are old friends. He approaches and grabs his shoulder, shaking him a little.

“Oh! Hi Stevie!” 

The confidence and attitude he carries himself with make Steve smile for some reason. It’s like he’s very sure of himself but in a nice way, not in a douchey way, like his high school buddies were. Although hearing someone call him “Stevie” reminds him of Tommy and a very different time and he can’t help but shrink inwards a little, “Oh no please, just Steve,” he says with an apologetic smile, pulling his sunglasses off again and placing them on his head. And because he doesn’t want Argyle to think he’s the douchebag, he explains further, “‘Stevie’ brings back bad memories,”

Argyle leans his head to the side with a pout but then smiles and squeezes Steve’s shoulder, “Dude, it’s fine, we can just make new ones, man! Better ones.”

Steve’s first reaction is to scoff. As if it were that easy… but then he thinks, hell, maybe it is.  Maybe it is and it makes him smile. Argyle is way too outgoing for it to be comfortable for other people, it’s kind of ridiculous. For a second, he wonders if Jonathan found it jarring when he first met him. But Steve finds it refreshing. He shakes his head and smiles,

“So what were you looking for? Maybe I can help?” he offers.

Argyle turns in a circle, letting go of Steve’s shoulder and opening his arms wide, like he’s presenting the store to Steve, “See man, I'm mentally preparing myself for the munchies. I kind of wanted to make a pizza but like sweet? You get me?”

“Like a pie?” Steve chuckles.

“That! Sounds delicious, dude! But I don’t know how to make a pie,” Argyle laments, and Steve has no idea what possesses him to say,

“I do. You want help?” 

Argyle stills his whole body and then shakes it before he starts snapping his fingers rapidly, startling Steve.

“Ok! Ok ok ok ok ok! Are you busy right now, man?”

“Just need to buy my groceries…” Steve says unable to keep the bewilderment off his expression.

“I’ll help you with that, we’ll buy things for the pie and then you invite me over, how’s that my dude?” Argyle says, no preambles, “I have a doobie and a lot of questions about all the shit that went down” he adds moving his eyebrows up and down quickly.

“What about Jon?” Steve can’t help but ask.

“Ah man, Jonny is with Nancy right now. Those two love birds had a lot to talk about, so I figured I’d make myself scarce.” Argyle answers, nodding apprehensively at his own statement.

Steve finds himself nodding along before saying, “Yeah, okay. Let’s do it!”

“Hell yeah, Stevie!” Argyle exclaims throwing his arms up and this time, Steve doesn’t cringe at the nickname.

After that, Argyle follows Steve through the store, helping him put things in the cart, making a few comments about differences in products or prices from California, but mostly staying out of the way and humming to himself. Steve asks him what he wants the pie to be (strawberries and chocolate) so he gets the ingredients for that too and then they are off.

When they get to his place, Steve tells him to get comfortable while he puts stuff away but Argyle helps him out before sitting on a tall stool in the kitchen and watching as Steve gets all the ingredients for the pie laid out.

“You know dude, you’re kind of exactly how I imagined you’d be,” Argyle tells him, gifting him another one of his smiles. 

“Really?” Steve asks surprised.

“Jon told me all about you, man,” he answers nodding. 

Steve raises an eyebrow at that, “And you still want to hang out with me?” he asks, half judgy, half defensive.

“Of course! Because you know what I got from it, dog?” Argyle asks and Steve just stares at him, afraid to know the answer.

“That you are a good person, Stevie! So you got off to a rocky start dude, so what? I think that makes you all the more interesting.”

Steve purses his lips in an attempt not to smile and raises an eyebrow.

“You went to hell and beyond for someone you didn’t even like! You’ve paid your dues and a half for whatever shit you did when you were younger and it could’ve made you bitter or closed off, man! But it didn’t. Not even the tiniest little bit. You barely know me and you invited me over and offered to bake pie for me, dude!” 

Steve chuckles and shakes his head, “You got all that from what Jon told you? Also you invited yourself over,” he jokes. 

Argyle laughs and then just shrugs, choosing to ignore Steve’s question about Jon.

He lets it go, and Argyle lights up the joint while he starts making the pie. After they both get a few hits, Argyle starts asking him about everything. ‘Start from the beginning’ he says.

Steve starts off a little stiff but gets looser with the weed and Argyle's presence and ends up telling him practically everything. Argyle asks a few questions every once in a while, sometimes about the process of making the pie. Sometimes some really intense shit like ‘and how did that make you feel?’, ‘did you think you were going to die?’ ‘were you scared?’.

Steve answers everything honestly, and it feels incredibly cathartic. His favorite questions are the ones about the pie though, and he smiles the biggest when Argyle says next time he’ll make one for him.

In turn, Steve asks him how he met Jon and chuckles when Argyle confirms his thoughts and tells him Jon didn’t like Argyle one bit at first.

“He said I was too happy. He didn’t trust it. Dude couldn’t trust anyone that hadn’t gone through some kind of shit in their lives” Argyle laughs, “But I can thaw even the coldest of hearts, man! As we got to know each other, he realized that I did have my own shit going on, but that happiness was a choice for me. Is who I had chosen to be.”

They talk about that too, how it wasn’t an easy choice. How some days it’s harder than others, to keep at it. How all the Upside Down shit affected him too.

By the time the pie is done and the joint is gone, Steve feels incredibly close to Argyle. Like they’ve been friends forever. 

“So that’s pretty much it,” he says with a sigh after finishing a rant about why he doesn’t keep in touch with his high school buddies because Argyle had asked about them.

“Dude, you’ve been through so much,” he says solemnly.

“Yeah, you know that’s…. Life…” Steve says, shrugging. He doesn't know exactly what to say, suddenly feeling very awkward at being seen.

“Nah, Stevie. Me being kicked out of my house as soon as I was old enough to get a job ‘cause my parents couldn’t afford to keep feeding me and my younger siblings…. That’s life.” Argyle says seriously and quickly dismisses Steve's worried face adding, “It’s ok dude, they were great parents, they raised me well and I still go visit every other weekend” And then sighs and looks sternly at Steve again,

“Like I said, that’s life. What you’ve been through? Was hell”

“The kids had it worse- Ell-” Steve starts but Argyle interrupts him.

“That doesn’t erase what you've been through, Steve. It doesn’t make it less of a nightmare, man.” Steve just looks at Argyle as what he’s saying sinks in. 

“And you got through it, dude. You came out the other side even a better person than when it started and like- you saved lives! You saved my best friend's life and like- like- you should be proud of yourself Stevie. I’m proud of you, man” he finishes with a carefree smile. As if he hadn’t just rocked the ground Steve was standing on. And he doesn't know if it’s the weed, or Argyle’s words, or both but Steve closes the distance between them and hugs him.

“Oh, hey! Hugs! I love hugs!” Argyle laughs, and hugs him back, taking it all in stride.

“Sorry,” Steve sniffles embarrassed, “I didn’t know I needed to hear that till you said it,” he croaks.

“Nah, it’s good. I got you” Argyle responds, patting his back lightly.

The hug is wonderful, friendly, warm, and just the right length but when he’s stepping away from Argyle, he hears a wary sound from the kitchen door.

“Uhm…hi” 

It’s Eddie. Pocker-faced and cautious and Steve knows him well enough to know he’s freaking out inside.

“Oh, hi! Eddie! Good to see you, dude!” Argyle says good naturally and completely out of the loop. Steve smiles at him too and rubs his eyes with the back of his hand to dry them off a bit.

Whatever Eddie was thinking goes out the window when he looks closely at Steve and walks towards him, leaning closer to look him in the eye, “You okay?” he asks concerned.

Steve nods and Argyle clears his throat, “I’m going to… set the table for three,” he says, so maybe, not as out of the loop as Steve first thought.

Eddie completely ignores Argyle and grabs Steve’s face, his thumb caressing the underside of his eye, “You really ok?” he asks again and Steve chuckles,

“Yeah,” he answers with a smile.

Eddie hums and then looks back towards where Argyle is opening and closing cabinets in the dining room, looking for plates, “So… Should I be jealous?” he asks and Steve snorts amused, 

“Of course not,” he says.

“You sure? ‘Cause maybe your type wasn’t curls and big eyes, maybe it was long hair and weed all along,” Eddie presses and Steve can tell he’s trying to make a joke out of it but is actually asking for real and Steve gets frankly, really annoyed.

“You know what? Maybe you should be jealous. Argy would never accuse me like that,” Inwardly he cringes at the nickname but it gets the point across. Eddie’s face falls and he looks devastated and terrified for a second before Steve smirks bitchily at him and then Eddie is frowning.

“Asshole” he murmurs, despite still holding Steve’s face as if it were precious and fragile.

Steve steps closer, placing his hands on Eddie’s waist, “You started it” he says as an apology. Kind of.

Eddie huffs and moves his hands to Steve shoulder’s, one thumb pressed to his pulse, “I regret it” 

Steve hums, “Just for the record? A little possessiveness is kind of hot,” he says and pecks the tip of Eddie’s nose, “You questioning my feelings for you? Is not.” and then flicks it.

“Dully noted,” Eddie nods.

Steve looks him in the eye as he leans closer, kisses him fully in the mouth firmly, eyes open the whole time, and then whispers “Good boy,” before he steps away.

He smirks again seeing the full-body effect his little stunt has on Eddie. The way his eyelids fall, his mouth opens, the goosebumps on his arm hair, and the shiver that runs through his spine. He takes a moment to take it all in before he smiles, less predatory and more friendly. Eddie smiles back, and shakes his head amused, like he can't believe Steve is real. He does that a lot.

Steve then takes Eddie’s hand on his own and kisses his knuckles before moving past him and dragging him to the dining room with him, 

“Now c’mon. Let’s go eat pie with my new friend”

e͟n͟d͟

a coffee? a doobie? ☕🥐💕

[luveline]

Can we pls get more shy reader who’s new to the team and Spencer who just got out of prison?(I just read the other one and loved it)

(P.s love all of your work 🤍)

Why is Spencer murmuring? 

“It's more complicated than anger-excitation. Everybody assumes anger-excitation but it's never that simple.” Is he talking to himself? “Our UnSub has a unique signature, so that's what we should be focusing on, but…” He opens the folder of crime scene photos, frowning hard. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, hand reaching for him of its own accord. You stop yourself before making contact. 

“I'm waiting for you to finish.” 

“Me?” Your eyebrows hike. 

“You're learning. You know the answer already.” His frown softens but doesn't leave, prompting a weird, hard-to-ignore pattering in your chest. “This is how we do it. We speak out loud and build off of each other's interpretations.” 

He's more intimidating than he realises, perhaps. You flounder to think of what he'd said and how you'd move forward. It feels like a long lapse in conversation as you mull it over, your features tilting into their own unhappy frown. 

You begin. “Most UnSubs have a signature by mistake. They mess up, or their emotions run too hot, but this one physically cannot be accidental. He's clearly sociopathic, or narcissistic, but if that's the case and we focus on the signature, then that's what he wants,” —Spencer nods encouragingly, blood rushes past your ears— “it's a red herring.” 

He lights up, his voice almost velveteen as he agrees, “It's a red herring.” It twists your guts, has you biting back a smile even as pleased heat rushes to your face and neck. 

“So we focus on the things he can't control,” you suggest. 

Spencer must see it, hear the question, the need for his approval. “Good job, Y/N,” he says, your name said with enough warmth to make it feel like a brand new word. “Really good.” 

You can't keep eye contact. It's too much. You hide your unsteady hands in the mass of papers stationed between your two thighs, wondering if he can feel your jittering in the threadbare couch beneath you both. 

“What, you don't think you're doing well?” he asks gently. 

“It's not that.” 

“Oh. I see. You like praise.” Your lips part though you can't summon words. He continues on, “It won't be hard to attract, considering how quick you are. I'd say you were a natural if I didn't know how hard you worked to get here.” His upper arm brushes yours as he sets the closed crime photos aside. “Let's do it, then.” 

“Um–” You're practically blind for a second. “Do what?” 

“Find his mistake.” 

You shake yourself. You have to get back to work.

It would be much easier to do so if he wasn't sitting beside you talking under his breath, smiling every time he catches you looking at him, completely at ease in your company. 

You think you might be getting away with it until you aren't. He says your name, voice fried with the very beginnings of a chiding. 

“What?” you ask. 

“Find the mistake.” His lips twitch. He's almost melodic as he adds, “I know you can do it.” 

He's torturing you. 

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 23/10✨

I'm LIVE on my TWITCH page drawing Spicynoodle! Come and say hi!

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: Ok so your Bio parent AU (loving it so much by the way) takes place after season 5 right? I thought it would be cool if you touched on Monkey Kings issues with Mk using the circuit on him. I eat that stuff up. if its already going in a different direction then that's ok, just a suggestion.

Aww in the end I don't think I can fit this in the story. It's absolutely an amazing idea, and I had thought of adding it for so long, but in the end the final part of the story will go differently.

Anonimo ha chiesto: How do Wukong and Macaque react that they have two grandchildren?? (Kai and Nya)

Will probably die of emotions. The fact that that's both their son's son/daughter, and that's their nephew/niece. It would blow them away. I'll never have children, but they completely change your prespective.

@shadowpeachera ha chiesto: AGHHHHHH XIAOTIANS WEAPON IS SOOO COOOOLLL AND THE WAY YOUR SHOWED HIM MAKING IT AGHHHHHH SO GOOD HOW LONG DID IT TAKE YOU TO COME UP WITH THE DESIGN? THE COLOURS? THE EVERYTHING UGHH I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS COMIC AGHHH

I think I did a couple of sketches before the final design, but I went on pinterest quite a lot before to see some variations of magical staff

@beanspassin ha chiesto: Do you think Macaque and Wukong will ever find out about each other secretly checking the other out? Cause let’s face it, Wukong will get a MASSIVE ego boost when he finds out Macaque was staring at him. 🤭

I think Macaque can HEAR when Wukong is checking him out. Wukong probably would negate the fact that he's checking him out, bc my boy is just a mess of emotion

@tessthe-cheesecake ha chiesto: Hello! I just wanted to say I really love your Shadowpeach Bio Parent AU I just have two questions, one: how is MK handling four ears? I assume he doesn't like crowded places (if yes then me too bud me too) ok second question would MK ever go back to being Wukong's successor but in his own way instead? :)

I think MK doesn't want to be a successor bc he doesn't want to be the next Monkey King, but he still wants to be the Monkie Kid. Also, I think he might be starting to feel himself a little more like an heir then a successor

@minli-daughter-of-wukong ha chiesto: So, would you have changed MK’s weapon if you thought a staff wasn’t really his style anymore? Also how did you come up with the idea for the sunset staff and can you give tips on how to find the right kind of weapon you’d choose for a character? So this is so long lol

I aint real good with weapon/characters. This was my first time matching a weapon to a character to be honest. I wanted to create something that was similar to both Wukong's and Macaque's staff, but at the same time being something new. With a new color palette that could represent the kind of hero MK wants to be

@cavern-of-shenanigans ha chiesto: Ok ok ok this is kind of silly but MKs new staff kind of reminds me of a twirling baton So combined with Macaques showmanship and the scarf bit MK tied on, they could play around with it and do a joint shadow play/ribbon dance performance! Maybe add him into the hero warrior story? Nice mother son bonding activity because its cute

HA! true! they are performance duo!

@ashmeertheimp ha chiesto: Hi love your fan art, story,and art style! What if piggsy and Tang went on a long trip and lives in flower fruit Mountain

I don't think freenoodle could survive living so close to shadowpeach

@italian-wizarding-world ha chiesto: Duuude i love, Love, LOVE!!! your art, and your Mk, Wu and Mama it's just too sweet, just two question: 1 Why sunset and not dawn? is it because usually sunset are more impresive? or maybe the staff has two "forms" depending on him using more his shadow powers and if so can he change between them? 2 We need red son reaction to Mk essentially magical girl transformation even if it's just a sparkling staff, because i think it would be epic/hilarious. We need more moment about them and Mei lookin at how dumb both are

I liked sunset because in a way MK started more with Sun powers and he is now discovering more his Macaque side of powers, so he's approaching a little bit the shadows (so his journey was from day to slowly twilight)

Anonimo ha chiesto: Have you ever thought about drawing an adult MK? I love your drawing style, and I wanted to see what an adult MK would look like, as well as Mei and Red Son. Você já pensou em desenhar um MK adulto? Eu amo seu estilo de desenho, e eu queria ver como seria um MK adulto, assim como Mei e Red Son.(I'm Brazilian by the way and I love reading your Au)

Maybe in the future....?

Anonimo ha chiesto: I REALLY REALLY REALLY LOVE NO ..I ADORE YOUR DRAWINGS MAN!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ EVERY DAY I REREAD THE WHOLE LMK COMICS OF YOURS..!!!!!!❤️❤️ And hey l have a quition!!! What if mk interrupted wukong while his meditation and like wukong thinks he's in the past what is he gonna do when he see mac!?🌝❤️ Probably we will see a lot of hugs and kisses?🥹

Can you imagine since they are so cuddly even if they aren't together yet again in the AU, that because of this Macaque for a good moment DOESN'T notice the difference?

Anonimo ha chiesto: Can we get a character sheet for chiyou?

nope sorry, but he will come back no worry

Anonimo ha chiesto: Who else wants to see Pigsy and Tang show Monkey King and Macaque pictures of MK growing up?

Aww I think Wukong and Macaque would die from cuteness but at the same time feel a great remorse that they weren't there for their child when he was little. They are glad freenoodle was with them, but still, It's a big chunk of his life that they missed.

@itz-izzyart ha chiesto: So with the noise canceling headphones, does mk wear them so he (hopefully) doesn’t start hearing the past again or is it just something he wears to help him sleep at night?

Both. It helps him muffle the noise.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Would Wukong get ptsd if MK somehow got a circlet himself ?

He would probably loose all his immortalities rather than let MK have a circlet.

@loseranddummy ha chiesto: I have a ≈question≈ is Peng gonna be in your lmk bio parent comic by chance?

mmmm nope, sorry

@oddogoblino ha chiesto: Beeeeeg monke armmssss...meant for hug jail...

yessss..... and cudlleeeeeee...

Anonimo ha chiesto: :D was macaque grooming mk while they were waiting for the weapon to be forged

yup!

Anonimo ha chiesto: HI! Hope you're well and staying hydrated. Would we/could we see more Lilo and Stitch refs for your ShadowPeach bio parents au? I saw the last one and couldn't stop laughing. 😆 Maybe a beach scene or something?

I'll have to see the movie again and I'll see if new idea come in my mind

Anonimo ha chiesto: Have you ever thought about that because Macaque was gone from the living world for so long he doesn't know how use modern technology. Like Wukong's phone will go off when he isn't there and Macaque can't figure out how to get the stupid thing to be quiet

They are both gay boomers, your honor

Anonimo ha chiesto: In your shadowpeach au who is a morning person and who is a night owl Macaque or Wukong?

none of them. Wukong sleeps like 12 hours and Macaque like 5. (but now he's sleeping more thanks to Wukong but still wakes up earlier than Wukong)

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + fourteen

authors note: swear this was the chapter that never fucking ended. it's essentially part one because even with how long it is, i still have a lot to cover. 😩

anywayssss, some foreshadowing, a ton of fluff, and some long awaited moments below.

if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: fluff, angst, smut

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist

words: 15k (sorrows, sorrows, prayers)

“Did they hurt?” The question is asked while sitting on top of Roman’s lap, the default seat for her, it seems, whenever she’s in his presence. Her fingers ghost over his inked skin, slightly fascinated by the intricacies of the design. Tribal. A nod to his heritage and his story.

Like most, if not all things with Solana, he answers truthfully. “Not really, but I have a high pain tolerance, so it’s hard to say.” For some reason, that makes her frown a bit. Was that a natural inherited thing or some level of tolerance built up from years of said pain? “Do you want any?”

She nods, tracing one of the patterns with her finger. “In Mexican culture, Hummingbirds represent many things. Strength. Love. But, the thing my mom always focused on and stressed to me is they’re also messengers from the spirits in heaven. That…they remind us of lost loved ones.” Her shoulders lift a little. Small, sad smile on her face. “Sometimes, I think I’d like to get one tattooed on me. Like…like a tribute to her, but then I think about the needle and don’t know if that could trigger me somehow.”

It could trigger from a couple different angles, but namely her trauma with knives as well as her history of self-harming. But, Solana is certain Roman already recognizes this, thus her not going into specifics. “I don’t know. I’ll….I’ll think about it some more.”

Roman nods, offering, “if you decide to get it, I’ll go with you.” 

It’s a thoughtful gesture, not entirely surprising. Solana is starting to recognize there’s very little the man underneath her wouldn’t do for her. 

Appreciatively kissing his cheek, she murmurs, “thank you.” Biting on her lip, she foolishly tries to see if she can get something else out of him. “Speaking of going….”

Roman chuckles. “I’m not telling you.” He rolls his eyes as she pouts almost, his thumb going to her cheek, the cut almost entirely healed. “You’ll find out in a couple hours.”

It’s been almost a week since the gala, and the temperature has settled tremendously. Roman still doesn’t like thinking about it, thinking about how he lost his fucking shit but mostly at the fact that Solana was attacked. 

He’s about to start having someone with her at all times. Even in the bathroom. 

Roman has also noticed there seems to be some conflicted emotions on Solana’s end regarding what happened in the bathroom. Namely because she caught wind of Wes injuries, injuries that are truly tame compared to what Roman would have done and will do once he gets his hands on that son of a bitch.

But, he is him, and Solana is her. They are very different people. She is gentle where he is hard, so while there is still that adrenaline and proudness she was experiencing at defending herself as well as she did, he can see it’s something that’s bothering her.

He’s tried to bring it up, but she shuts down, so he’s left it alone out of respect.

But, with her birthday being tomorrow and them leaving in a couple hours for their trip, he’s hopeful getting away will be good for her. For them. 

She then asks a bit of a silly question considering who she’s talking to. Roman plans for every little thing, from the most major detail to the thing that most likely won’t happen but still serves as something that needs to be accounted for. “Is….is it at least domestic? I don’t have a passport.” 

“Yes, you do.” He opens the first drawer of his desk, pulling out a small Louis Vuitton passport cover and hands it to her.

Solana looks down with a gasp seeing that she, in fact, has a passport. A brand new, unstamped passport. “How did you—”

An easy answer. “I’m a billionaire, Solana. There’s nothing I can’t buy or make happen.”

It makes sense, but it doesn’t do much to chip away the tremendous amount of guilt and how bad she feels in learning that Roman’s birthday was back in May, and no one said or did a thing about it or acknowledged it.

She can still feel her stomach dropping when she asked a few days about when his is, and he calmly informed that it had already passed. That hurt. Truly. To know what should be a special occasion was essentially treated as any other day.

His explanation made sense. He expressed not liking to acknowledge his birthday because of what happened when he was 10. She can understand that. She does understand that, but it doesn’t make her feel any less sad at the fact that she didn’t even know it was her husband’s freaking birthday. 

Solana expresses said concern. “But…it’s….it’s not fair we’re doing all this for my birthday, and I didn't even know yours—”

“Hey—” He interrupts her, his hands cupping her face. “Don’t do that.” He pushes back some of her hair. “My story is my story. Not yours.” She opens her mouth clearly to protest or counter when his eyes take on a mischievous glint. “Besides, seeing you half naked most of the day for a week? Might as well be my fucking birthday.”

Solana rolls her eyes. He has a way of making her feel better in the most interesting and often raunchy sort of way. Blushing and smiling at his suggestive comment, she shrugs, admitting, “there are more bathing suits in my suitcase than clothes.”

“Good. The less clothes you have on, the better.” Her cheeks must be a red mess. Roman taps on her hip, gesturing for her to stand up. He also stands and takes her hand in his. “Come here. There’s something I want to show you.”

Solana looks down at her outfit which is most definitely nothing appropriate enough to leave the house in. “Are we leaving the house or—”

“No.” His answer is simple and to the point that she doesn’t really press him for more information as he guides her through the house. A frown does fall on her face, however, when she sees he’s taken her down the hall where he’d said construction was previously taking place.

It’s only then she finally asks, “what—”

“Close your eyes.”

Solana makes a face. “Roman, what are you—”

He steps towards her, pushing back her hair. “You know I don’t like repeating myself.” If she was anyone else, Solana is certain his tone would be much different. A lot darker, harsher. But, it’s not. Just….strangely calm. 

Blowing out a breath, she relents, realizing there’s not really an option for anything else. “Okay.” Shutting her eyes, she allows him to continue to guide her, stopping for a moment as she hears a door open. He directs her to walk through said opened door followed by a light switch, the presence of that light shining against her closed eyes. 

Solana feels him shift behind her, his arms snaking around her, mouth dipping to her ear. “Open em’.”

Solana doesn't need to be told twice, and as soon as they’re open, a gasp leaves her mouth. Naturally, she walks away from him, deeper into the room that has an open floor plan, walls almost entirely lined with white, empty shelves. Bookshelves. Against the walls and the cutout part of the room. Not to be confused with the other nook that’s occupied by seating, pillows, and anything else someone would need if indulging in reading or writing.

Walking further into the space, she sees another area clearly curated for another purpose. Art. A table to create on, two easels, countless art supplies all perfectly situated near the bay window that allows for natural sunlight. 

The perfect place to create. 

Taken completely back by the surprise of it all, Solana turns to Roman, stammering to ask, “is–is this for me?”

“You know it’s damn sure not for me.” He steps toward her again, gently pulling her against him. “You were outgrowing that space. And your journals are personal. They shouldn’t be kept at work.” His thumb brushes across her bottom lip. “They should be here. This is your home now.”

“Roman….” She looks around again, tears growing in her eyes. 

He continues to explain. “It would have been ready sooner, but when I found out you like art, I had them add that.” He gestures to the corner that has to be any artist's dream. “I’m not smart about a lot of that shit, so just let me know anything else you ne—”

He’s silenced by Solana practically jumping him, angling her body to face him as she wraps her arms around his neck. A hug, deep and sentimental. It takes him off guard for a second, Roman unused to such….affection.

But, the discomfort settles into something that almost feels natural. His hand on the small of her back as he chuckles. “I’m gonna take it that you like it then.” It’s not necessarily a question as much as an assessment. 

She gives a watery chuckle, pulling back and nodding. “I love it.” Her voice breaks. “No…..no one’s ever done anything like this for me before.” It goes without saying this doesn't include her mom, who Roman is almost certain did more for her than anyone ever could. Especially when she needed it the most.

Doesn’t mean he can’t do his part though. 

She swallows, whispering as he wipes away her tears. “Thank you.” 

“What I tell you about that, huh?” He ghosts his lips over hers, reminding yet again. “You never have to thank me for anything.” Roman kisses her forehead, seeing how her eyes shut from feeling content and partially overwhelmed. It brings a small smile to his face. “Happy birthday, Solana….”

________

“Oh my god….”

Roman doesn’t have to be looking up to know what’s caught Solana’s attention. It’s obvious by the way the SUV has come to a stop, shifting into park as they’ve clearly reached their destination.

And she’s clearly looking up at said destination. Well, the conduit to help them travel to said destination.

When he finishes sending out an email, one of the last before he goes into somewhat work blackout—because he never be fully disconnected—he looks up to see Solana still staring out the window. 

“Is that….is that a private jet?”

Smirking, Roman slides his phone in his bag and removes his seatbelt. “You really think I fly commercial?”

It’s not intended to come across as rude, and it isn't judging by her small smile. “They’re bigger than I imagined….”

“Mine is.” Double entendre, if he really wanted to make her blush, but he keeps it PG. For now. “I’m tall. Need the leg room.”

Roman exits the SUV at the same time the driver opens the door for Solana to do the same. He easily circles back around to her just in time for her to sling her small backpack on her shoulder and adjust her ball cap. In sneakers without any sort of height boost, she looks even tinier than she already is, especially compared to his massive build. 

Taking her hand, Roman asks, “you ready?”

She nods as he leads them over to the descended stairs where the pilot and two flight attendants stand outside, greeting them. The older man, Bob, he thinks, lifts his hat and nods respectfully in their direction.

“Mr. Reigns. Mrs. Reigns. Everything is just as you requested.”

Roman only gives a nod to acknowledge things being exactly as they should. His way.

He motions for Solana to walk up ahead of him, mainly so he can enjoy the view of her ass in the tight ass outfit she has on but also out of manners.

Manners he only seems to be able to find in her presence. 

She loiters a bit near the entrance, moving aide for him to also fully enter but still stands almost frozen, clearly taken back by the interior. 

“This is….”

“The best,” he finishes for her, tossing his bag on the closest beige sofa that lines both sides of the jet. Roman moves over to her, hand palming her ass as he dips his head to whisper in her ear. “I don’t accept anything less.”

She giggles against him, the sound hands down one of the best songs on the soundtrack when they’re interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

Momentarily considering murder for probably the fifth time today, Roman turns to see Paul standing at the bottom of the steps. Roman literally forgot this man was in the SUV behind them, coming to see them off.

Paul lifts his hand to shield his eyes from the sun, asking with all of the unease. “A word, please, my Tribal Chief?”

The automatic answer would be no if not for Solana turning around and placing her hand on his chest. A frequent gesture he never gets tired of. Any touch from her is always welcomed.

Her smile dips a bit as she asks with the same level of unease shared by Paul, “is—is it okay if I look around?”

Her question makes him scowl. Her asking him permission to do anything feels uncomfortable as fuck. “You don’t have to ask my permission for shit. Anything that’s mine is yours.”

His answer seems to ease her anxiety at least as she nods, kisses his cheek and starts to explore the rest of the jet. Roman’s eyes linger on her a bit before he switches his attention to his annoying ass head council.

Stomping down the steps with all of the agitation, he barks, “talk.”

Paul clears his throat, and Roman’s already regretting his decision to choose his Wise Man over his fine ass wife.

“Sir, I—I understand you wanting to take the girl—”

“Solana,” Roman corrects one time only. Because that was Paul’s one time referring to Solana as anything other than her name or his wife. “Her name is Solana.”

Paul swallows. “Of course.” He’s a quick learner, smartly running it back for a second, correct time. “I understand you wanting to take Solana away for her birthday, but is the timing really great? There’s so much work—”

“There’s always work to do, Wise Man. That’s why I delegated the appropriate tasks to cover the appropriate work while I’m gone.” It was a bit trickier than that as delegation has never been a preference for Roman. His ultimate preference is to always handle shit on his own. And truth be told, he made sure to sign off, approve, create, and orchestrate any major moves that needed to be done before leaving. The remaining tasks were split among Jimmy, Jey, and Rikishi. And he has no doubt they’ll be on top of it. Because as always, when it comes to business, the twins never miss. It’s just any other time they’re bumbling idiots who give Roman migraines from time to time. 

“Of course. Always so conscientious, my Tribal Chief.” Paul’s smile makes Roman want to turn and walk away yet again for the second time in two minutes. Granted, that’s his usual disposition when interacting with anyone other than his wife. “I just—for you to be out of the country for almost a week. Well, it’s just—”

“Wise Man.”

Paul’s eyes light up, and it has nothing to do with the sun that’s shining in his direction. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“How long have I been the Tribal Chief?”

The answer is almost instantaneous, a small smile falling on Paul’s pudgy face. “Since you were eighteen-years-old.”

“How old am I now?”

“My Tribal Chief turned 39 on May 25th of this year.”

“And in all that time, how many vacations have I taken?”

There’s brief hesitation, eyes traveling for a brief second, searching for the answer. “N–none, my Tribal Chief.”

“Exactly.” Roman lifts his shades and sets them atop his head. “So, if I want to take a couple fucking days off to help my wife celebrate her birthday, then that’s what I’m gonna fucking do, and I don’t have to answer to a damn person about it. Because I feel like you’re questioning me, Wise Man, and I don’t get questioned. Is that understood?”

Paul’s fat cheeks are painted an ugly shade of red as he stammers out, “y–yes, my Tribal Chief.”

Semi pleased with the acquiescence, Roman turns around and calls out coldly, “only contact me for emergencies.”

Roman is almost certain Paul will be too scared shitless to risk his wrath with an outreach that’s only subjectively considered an emergency vs Roman’s definition. He’ll probably task Rikishi or the twins with the task. 

Roman would prefer their old man over them. Less antics and constant triggers for his anger.

The head of the table finds his wife still in the main section of the jet, sitting down on the sofa, legs pulled up under her, phone in hand. Hearing his return, she smiles, sharing, “I was just texting Naomi to make sure she grabbed Dulce’s favorite toy.”

Roman chuckles and walks over, joining her on the sofa. “The dog has a favorite toy?”

Smiling, she explains, “it’s the one she plays with the most. Her avocado.” Solana angles her body so she’s facing him more versus the other sofa that lines the other side of the plane. “Do—do you think she’ll be okay? We’ve never left her before.”

To be fair, Roman briefly thought about that. She’s so fucking little and still a puppy, so leaving her could be risky. But, he also knows that damn thing seems to always be hopping on Naomi and Bayley’s lap, so she should be fine.

“She’ll probably sleep the majority of the time we’re gone.”

Solana rolls her pretty eyes, her mouth curving into a small smile. “I’m serious, Roman.”

“So am I.” He sighs and brings his arm around her, pulling her into his side. “She’ll be fine, Solana. It’s not like we left her with Jey and psycho ass Nicki with their bad ass kids.”

Forever the saint, she pouts and lightly scolds him. “That’s not nice. I’m sure they’re not bad.”

“You ain’t met them yet,” Roman scoffs. “Why you think Jey always at our place?”

Smiling cheekily, she gently points out, “you said it’s because I keep feeding them.”

“That too.” Roman trails his finger up and down her upper forearm, her soft skin a contrast to his coarse fingertips. Her perfume, something sweet, vanilla, and gourmand doesn’t help him keep focus on the conversation nor the fact that she’s so close to him, their bodies touching him. His desire for physical contact, of any kind, with her has been heightened a bit in recent days. “That’s why you don’t feed fucking strays. Cause they keep coming back.”

Solana peers up at him, giggling, “you’re so mean to them sometimes.” Shifting her position so that her legs are laid out the opposite side of Roman, her back pressed against his side. His big arm is over her chest, her hands on his forearm. “I think….I think you like them more than you let on.”

“Really?” 

She nods, further explaining. “I don’t….I don’t think you would let them be as close to you as they are if you didn’t.”

Perceptive. Roman pegged that about Solana a while ago, when they first started writing, her previous preferred form of communication. She’s not entirely wrong. As fucking crazy Jimmy and Jey drive Roman, they’ve also been the two best and really only examples of friendships he has. Not to mention they’re family. 

“They’re….tolerable.”

She looks up at him, asking almost nervously, “and what am I?”

Such a good question that’s both simple and complicated. The easy answer is his wife. That’s just fact. Law. But the complex answer, the complex answer is that she’s so much more than that. That she’s become so much more than that. Where Roman finds himself craving her presence. A rarity for someone who typically avoids and shies away from social interactions like the plague.

Dipping his head to kiss her forehead, he answers in a low, steady voice, “my Lo’u Au.”

Her eyes flutter shut a bit as she murmurs, “it’s not fair you say things to me you know I can’t understand.” Roman watches her once again move around, this time sliding one leg over so that she’s sitting on his lap, straddling him. He doesn’t hesitate in moving his hands to the bottom of her ass, lifting her so she’s closer to him, her breast nearly touching his chest. Solana tilts her head to the side, whispering, “Yo siento muy bien contigo.”

Having her like this, so close against him, it doesn’t help that resolve, doesn’t do shit about the fact that his dick stiffens whenever she touches him. Like she is now. His eyes dip to her lips, so soft and full. “And what does that mean?”

Solana also seems to be on the same wavelength, her eyes also dropping to his mouth as she whispers with a small smile. “I’ll tell you when you tell me.”

Eyes shutting, Roman groans and tugs her even closer, her arms around his neck. “God, you drive me fuckin’ crazy.” Roman kisses her. Kisses her with all of the intensity and desire and borderline need he harbors for this woman.

And then she moans. She fucking moans in his mouth. His dick nearly fucking jerks as he stands up with her in his arms, Solana gasping and breaking the kiss to look around. “Roman….”

He needs to have his mouth on her, lips kissing the underline of her jaw as he brings them to the back of the jet, to the bed. He’s careful in how he lays her down, mindful of how she tugs on his shirt, pulling him on top of her and resuming their passionate kiss. 

Roman’s hands roam her body, but he pays extra attention to her breast, so big and soft, pillow soft under his hand as he kneads them, mindful of the way her nipples continue to harden under his touch.

“Roman….” Solana is breathing heavily, once again breaking their kiss, something he would otherwise be objected to if not for the two tiny words that leave her mouth. “Touch me.” 

His eyes widen a bit as he asks, almost unsure he heard her right. “What?”

Mouth parted, she licks her lips and again reiterates her previous request. “I—I want you to touch me.”

If not for not wanting to insult her intelligence, he’d remind her he is. He's touching her everywhere she’s previously admitted him access to. But, Roman would never do that nor is he stupid. He knows exactly what she’s referring to. And there’s suddenly a part of him that feels bad, wonders if she somehow thought that was the reason for him taking them to the bed. It wasn’t that. He just wanted privacy, wanted to give her that privacy. 

“Solana, I wasn’t—”

“Roman,” she says his name again, firmer, more committed almost to her request. “I trust you.” Three words. Three little words that pack such a heavy, emotional punch. “You’re…you’re going to have to when we finally…” She trails off, shaking her head. “Pl—please.” 

He shuts his eyes, jaw clenching. That one word alone coming from her is such a dangerous thing. Dangerous because it's incapable to say no to.

But, he doesn’t necessarily have to because her hand is on his, slowly moving it down from her breast, traveling down the span of her stomach and the top of her black pants. But instead of remaining there, Solana guides it under her waistband, her tour stopping when the palm of his hand presses softly on her mons pubis, still protected under the cotton of her underwear. Her eyes shut at this contact, but it’s when his fingers flitter near the space between her legs that she gasps.

His eyes snap to hers as he’s quick to ask, “do you want me to stop?”

And she’s immediately shaking her head ‘no,’ explain, “I’m just—not used to it.” She’s already so sensitive to his touch. Roman can’t even imagine what this level of sensitivity is going to look like when they go all the way. “It’s okay.” She’s again reassuring him, even spreading her thighs a bit, giving him better access.

Roman is hard as a fucking rock, but he taps into expert level self-control as he moves his other hand to her waistband, giving a slight tug. “Can I?”

She answers in a soft voice. “Yes.”

Solana lifts her hips as he slides her black pants down her shapely legs, his mouth practically watering to see and have so much of her soft skin exposed to him. He moves his hand to caress the skin of her inner thighs. She sighs, content, and this serves as more motivation to continue his efforts in following through on her task. 

Again, he’s making sure to catch her gaze. “Do….”

And once again, she partially takes him by surprise as she closes her eyes and instead of giving him the approval to remove the only remaining article of clothing keeping her covered from him, Solana takes her fingers to her underwear and pushes down, lifting her hips slightly until they're hooked around her ankles and kicked onto the floor.

Mouth previously watering, Roman feels a sudden, intense amount of dehydration. She’s completely bare and exposed to him, her cunt so smooth and pretty, lips glistening already just from their makeout.

If not for her trauma, he’d have already had this woman more times than he could count.

But, he’d especially already had her in his mouth. Licking his lips, he does his best to keep composure, maintaining the maturity of a grown ass man vs a horny ass teenage boy whose balls haven’t even dropped.

Once more, he asks, “are you sure?”

It might be overkill to some, but one thing’s for certain, he would never go this far without gaining her consent every step of the way. 

She answers, “yes.” 

Roman nods, starting his hand at the top of her belly, gradually teasing it downward until he’s touching her, long fingers gently caressing her lips, the tips of his fingers gathering some of her essence. “How you already this wet for me?”

It’s more rhetorical than anything, but it’s partially fueled with how her stomach caves in a bit just at that initial touch. Her being so responsive to just his hands does wonders for his ego but also fuels his burning to just make her feel good.

Roman uses long, slow strokes along the areas of her vulva, never taking his eyes off her face, mouth dropping open, eyes slamming shut and head craning back. Pleasure. She feels pleasure. That’s what he wants to see. All he wants to see.

There’s not an ounce of discomfort in sight.

“Roman…” Her moaning his name might be his new favorite song. So needy and wanton. It’s got his erection fighting for its life in his boxers. “Shit….”

He smirks a bit. “Must be good if I got you cussing, baby.” It’s evident in the way she becomes swollen underneath his expert touch, eventually exposing her clit. And it’s then that he brings his thumb to her clit, pressing softly, satisfied when she arches against the bed. “That’s it….”

Such light touches, not a finger entered into her yet, and she’s already so wet. Largely due to sexual deprivation and being touch starved. Of that, he’s certain. To be almost thirty and have never been touched as such as a woman seems almost criminal. He wants to give it to her though. Give her that experience. Give her all of the experiences. 

He works his thumb around her swollen clitoris, small circles, her growing wetness all the lube and slip he needs to work her good, in the way she deserves, in only how he can have her.

“Oh my god…” She’s starting to squirm against the bed, and he fucking loves it. Loves seeing how worked up he can get her. It makes the anticipation of actually being inside of her that much better. He plays around with different touches, different techniques, studying closely what seems to evoke the strongest physical reaction. A sort of a game, a way for him to learn her body, to learn what she likes. But also, for her to learn what she likes.

“You okay?” He checks in with her, seeing her nod ‘yes’ almost frantically. If not for the fact he can see speech is a bit difficult right now, he’d press her on actual words. But, he can extend some grace. “So fucking wet….” She’s a wet, soaking mess, pussy soaking his fingers, her thighs, and the bed under her. Not that he gives a flying fuck. Seeing her like this is better than he could have imagined, just a taste of what it’ll be like to be inside of her. 

But, it’s when he teases a finger near her opening, so wet and sticky that he clenches his jaw. Just that slight probing, and he can already tell how tight she is, can imagine that tightness gripping the mess out of his dick.

Roman carefully enters one finger and observes the way she tenses, whimpers, the way her cunt clenches against him. “Relax….” He coaxes her, talks her through it, allows her to adjust to the unfamiliar stretch while his thumb continues to play with her clit, never once stopping her pleasure train. 

And when she’s adjusted, he enters another finger, stopping there, not wanting to push her too far, recognizing how big this is for her. But when she shifts again, almost rocking against his fingers, Roman responds to her, moving in sync, staying along with her song and dance. He works with her, making the hitherto motion while his other fingers continue to rub and caress her into that higher room, that place of ecstasy. 

Roman can see it coming, can see her coming, see the way she starts to grip the sheets, the biting of her bottom lip.

“I’m—I’m—”

“Ride it out, baby. Let me see how pretty you look when you come on my hand.” His words of affirmation seem to take her over the edge, damn near her entire upper half arching off the bed, her body writing as she gives into the bliss, staying on that train to euphoria. 

Roman keeps his fingers inside of her just long enough to feel that fucking amazing sensation of making her come yet again, and he can’t help himself as he brings his soaked fingers to his mouth, tasting and licking off every bit of her. His eyes shut at her taste, just as fucking sweet as he imagined. 

God, he can’t wait to have this woman. 

Coming to, Solana sits up on her elbows a bit, looking down, becoming aware of just how messy things got. And she seems a bit embarrassed, offering what’s surely the start of an unnecessary apology. “I–oh my—I didn’t.”

Roman says nothing, just gets up and moves to the bathroom, grabbing a towel off the rack and bringing it to her. He’d clean her up himself, but he doesn’t necessarily trust himself to not try for take two.

Letting her handle it is the safest route, but he can work to dissuade any thought or feeling she might have that makes her think she did anything wrong.

“I’ll buy a new fucking mattress every damn day if it means I get to make you come like that.” 

Solana has cleaned herself and the bed as best she can as she reaches to slide her underwear back on. Roman has to push away his disappointment. She has such a pretty pussy. 

Her cheeks are red, partially because of what just occurred but also her naturally shy personality. “You’re really good at that.”

“I’m good at a lot of things, Solana.” He has every intention on eventually showing her just what those remaining things are, but time and place. 

He’ll be as patient with her as she needs. 

After Solana is all cleaned up, returned to a semi state of being adequately dressed, they fall into a sense of normalcy where she lays in bed, reading and writing a bit while he finishes up some work tasks on his laptop right beside her before she drifts off into a sleep that lasts longer than he was expecting.

He’s tempted to wake her when they start to descend, partially wanting her to look out the window at the clear, blue waters that he can admit are impressive looking. But, he decides against it, waiting until they’ve landed and are ready to exit the jet.

Gently shaking her shoulder, he stirs her, “Solana, wake up.” She does so relatively easily, pretty brown eyes blinking a little in confusion as he explains. “We made it.”

Those three words help bring her to a full state of consciousness. He smiles a bit seeing how she moves quicker than what’s probably necessary to get out of the bed and slide her shoes on, looking back at him and reaching for his hand.

Roman closes his laptop and does the same, taking her hand, guiding her out the jet. They’re both instantly met with an intense heat and radiating sun shining in their direction. They’re also met with the staff and security he made sure to have lined up and ready to go upon their arrival.  He walks out first, watching and taking her hand again as she follows him, face turned up in expected confusion. 

But, before she can ask anything, one of the men offers what may be a genuine smile. Not that Roman cares about that.

He flicks his gaze between the two of them. “Welcome to Isla Mujeres, Mr. and Mrs. Reigns….”

A loud gasp next to him is unsurprising, Solana almost spinning to look around, trying to process that she’s really standing on Mexican soil.

She eventually turns to him, eyes wide and then softening into something so warm and appreciative. “Roman…”

“It’s the only way I could get you to myself and away from my annoying ass cousins—” Once again, Roman is cut off by Solana throwing her body against his for a hug that results in him easily picking her up, her legs around his waist.. Similar to the embrace at the home library one. Emotional. Grateful. Happy.

She’s laughing a bit, even with tears burning her vision. “Thank you.”

Roman doesn’t correct her this time, just murmurs a ‘you’re welcome’ and kisses her temple. He  lets her back down, hand moving to her ass. “You’re gonna have to translate while we’re here though.”

Solana shakes her head. Such a small thing in exchange for such a major act of kindness. “That’s fine.” She holds onto his arm as the staff move to take their bags from the jet while security directs them to the SUV.

Solana is looking out the window almost the entire ride, captivated by the scenery, the landscape, the beauty of it all while he’s just focused on the beauty sitting right beside him.

She asks the driver something in Spanish, the answer putting an even bigger smile on her face. She turns to him, asking, “how long are we here for?”

“A week,” Roman answers, noticing the way her eyes light up even more. “Still think we shouldn’t have come?”

She rolls her eyes and playfully shoves her body against his, grabbing his arm and laying her head against his shoulder. “I just….I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“You could never inconvenience me. I do what I want. You know this.” His lips linger near her hairline. “And I wanted to do this for you.”

“Well, I’m appreciative. So much. You….you don’t know how much this means to me.” 

He thinks he has an idea. 

The ride from the airport to the house is approximately twenty minutes, and just like the moment Solana stepped foot off the jet, she’s got that same look of marvel painted all over her pretty place at the property.

Roman, meanwhile, is just satisfied the pictures didn’t lie. If anything, they didn’t do it justice. 

She’s almost like a child on Christmas as she asks with excitement, “is this where we’re staying?” Before he can answer, she’s indirectly apologizing. “Roman, you didn’t have to spend so much money on this place. We’re only going to be here a week. We could have just—”

“I’m rich, Solana. I only do ownership.”

Her jaw drops again. “You bought this?” He nods. She scoffs, looking around, trying to process the fact that she’s technically standing on her property. “So….so we could come back?” 

“I don’t know how often I could come with you, but you’re welcome to come and go as you please.” It goes without saying she’d have hefty security detail as well as either Bayley or Naomi attending, but beyond that, Roman could never see himself denying her this. Denying her the opportunity to connect more with her maternal side since the paternal side has only ever caused her nothing but heartache.

Here, there’s a chance to rewrite the chapter. 

She walks over to him, holding onto his forearm, asking almost tentatively. “Can I look around the house?”

“How about we do this instead?” She looks genuinely curious as he explains. “If it’s regarding your safety, you ask. If not, you just do it.” Roman’s unsurprised by her unsure expression. “I don’t get to decide how you live your life. That’s all you.”

“Unless it could present a safety risk?”

“Exactly. Cause in that case, the answer is probably no.” A part of him dislikes having a caveat, but in the world they live in, with him being who he is, he can’t take any risks. He won’t take any risks. Not when it comes to her.

Ever.

Solana nods as if she understands better now. She slides her hand down, taking his with hers as she lightly tugs on his arm. “Come with me.”

It’s an easy request. There’s not much she could ask he’d say no to. If anything. 

Solana is just as amazed by the inside of the house as the outside, especially the kitchen, the first thing she gravitates to. Naturally.

“We have to go shopping,” she shares. “So I can cook.”

“Solana, you’re not cooking while we’re here.” She frowns, a pout almost on her pretty face. “We’re celebrating your birthday. The fuck I look like you making you cook on something that’s supposed to be for you? I hired a chef for us.”

Her frown softens a bit as she lays her hand on his chest. “You’re not making me do anything. I—I like cooking. You know this.”

“I know you do, but I want you to relax and enjoy yourself while we’re here.” His hands move down to her ass. “Starting with the pool in the back.”

A small smile grows on her face. “There’s a pool?”

He nods, imagining that sexy body of hers clad in one of those skimpy two pieces he told Bayley and Naomi to make sure she purchased plenty of. “I told you. Half naked, baby.” She giggles as he squeezes her ass and lightly pushes on his chest, separating them.

“Where’s our bedroom?”

He has to think about it for a minute. “Down the hall. Should be the first or second room on the right.” Again, she grabs his hand, guiding them based upon his directions. Directions that prove correct, Solana once again taken back by the luxury of it all. The room is damn near bigger than some apartments and provides direct access to the back of the house which houses the pool and hot tub.

“This is all so beautiful…..”

“Hmmm.”

Solana briefly turns from looking out the door when two of the guards bring her and Roman’s luggage into the room. She thanks them, while Roman just seems to glare at them to get them to leave immediately, which they do.

Once alone, she turns to Roman, “can we—” He doesn’t even have to correct her. She does it all on her own. “I—I want to go see the beach.”

He smirks. Assertiveness looks damn good on her. “Then let’s go to the beach.”

________

Roman is both surprised and unsurprised when Solana walks out the bathroom, a cover up partially preventing him from seeing whatever bathing suit she picked. And his disappointment must show as she murmurs, “I’ll take it off when we get there.”

Feeling like it’ll help her feel a bit better, less self-conscious, he informs, “it’ll just be us. I had the beach….cleared, if you will.”

Obviously confused, she wonders aloud, “how….how do you clear a beach?” Solana gasps, lowering her voice as she asks in an almost scared tone. “Did you….did you kill anyone?”

“Not today. Not yet, at least.” The way her eyes widen a bit makes him chuckle. “I’m Roman Reigns, Solana.” He walks past her, adding with all of the arrogance that he can without a doubt back up, “I always get what I want.”

Solana says nothing. Not that she needs to say anything. However, she notices then what Roman was messing with on the bed before she walked out the bathroom. “What is this?” She walks over, reaching for but not touching the camera. “You bought a camera?”

“I’ve had that for years.”

Curious, she less asks and more makes a simple statement, sharing, “I didn’t know you were into photography.”

He shrugs, almost indifferent. Dismissive. “It’s an interest. Haven’t really done much of it in a while.”

“You should,” she encourages. Solana would love to see and support him embrace a side of him that isn’t so deeply embedded in his work that seems never ending. “Especially while we’re here. It’s all so beautiful…”

“I could photograph you and get the same result.”

She smiles, looking away while admitting, “I—I don’t really like having my picture taken.”

“Too bad.” She looks back at him, Roman explaining. “That’s also an insecurity thing. I told you. I’m not letting you feed your insecurities.”

A part of her is grateful for that, grateful for him. Appreciative that he always seems to remind her of these things that she still struggles to notice or believe about herself from time to time. Like the fact that she is beautiful.

“Okay,” she relents, partially knowing it’s not like Roman will give in anyway. “But…but you can’t show them to anyone.”

“Solana, I don’t like sharing you with anyone as it is. You really think I’m trying to share some pictures?” It’s a fair, valid point. “No, I won’t show them to anyone.”

Pleased with the acknowledgement, the two finish getting ready and are out the door in less than 20 minutes. Given the fact that the property is more or less on the water, they opt, more Solana, asks to walk versus driving. Roman isn’t opposed. The beach is cleared, security is roaming the property, not to mention it’s a beautiful day.

Plus, he enjoys intentionally lagging a bit behind to enjoy the jiggle of her ass as she walks ahead of him.

Truly a win-win for all.

The minute she steps foot onto the sand, enters onto the actual beach, there’s a bit of a shift. Nothing negative. The complete opposite. Roman can sense her emotion growing, the reality of finally being in her mom’s home country truly settling in. 

He’s partially surprised by just how quickly she moves to the actual water, standing in the space where sand and ocean meet.

“My mom was right….” His gaze falls on her. “It’s so beautiful.” She steps forward a bit more, wind pushing the water closer as it grazes her feet. “I want to go in.” Another slight surprise, but not entirely. A part of the reason he’s been having her get in the pool was for this very moment, to lessen and minimize her fear so she could truly embrace this experience for all it can offer.

He nods but gestures to the camera bag. “Pictures first.”

She scowls a bit, and he chuckles, pulling the camera out. “Roman…”

“Non-negotiable, baby.” And she knows this, knows he’s not letting up when it comes to building her self-esteem and demolishing her body insecurity.

“Okay….” It feels a bit strange at first, posing as Roman snaps photos of her. She’s more than certain the first set of photos look just as awkward as she feels. But as time passes and with his encouragement and slight guidance, the awkwardness melts into something similar to relaxation. Her smile is a natural thing vs the result of being told to smile. 

And even when he tells her to remove the cover up, there’s some level of apprehension about being photographed in her bathing suit, but there’s also a level of confidence and reassurance that it’s literally just the two of them.

Roman has her damn near posing like it’s a real photoshoot, and when all is said and done, she’s tugging on his arm as he puts the camera away. “Come with me.”

Solana is both surprised and thankful when he doesn’t push back on her request, doesn’t deny it. There’s an obvious level of disinterest, but it’s nothing compared to his desire to make her happy. 

And in the beautiful ocean water that brushes past in little ripples and slight waves against her shoulder, holding onto her strong, handsome husband who seems to look at her like she set all the stars in the sky, she feels just that:

Happy

________

Solana is unsure just how long they spend at the beach. Long enough that by the time they return to the house, the chef he hired for them, an older, kind woman named Maria, has dinner just about ready to serve. And it’s exactly when they finish showering and cleaning up, the plate of delicious food is laid on the table, ready to devour.

It’s a bit of a different yet pleasant experience being able to have dinner with her husband. More often than not, he has to take it in his office due to his volume of work. So having him across from her, being able to talk with him while they indulge in Pozole is a kind of happiness she could get used to. 

But, it’s later that evening when they lay in the bed, Solana’s body sprawled on top of his much bigger one, Roman’s hand under her pajama shirt rubbing her skin, that something comes over her. A desire to unload something that’s been oscillating in the back of her head, no matter how many times she tries to push it away.

“I feel bad.” 

He doesn’t look down, just asks her calmly, “about?”

Solana licks her lips. “I didn’t mean to hurt him that badly.”

Roman had a feeling that’s what she was referring to, but he didn’t want it to be true. “Solana—”

“I know. I know I defended myself, but….” She tries to word it as best she can, though she also knows there’s little to no way Roman will abandon his ardent belief that Wes got exactly what he deserved. “I keep thinking about my mom and how….she always reminded me that at the end of the day, Wes is my brother, and a lot of his behavior was because of my dad.”

Roman does his best to keep his voice leveled, to keep out the unsettled anger he holds and will always hold against her piece of shit sibling. He doesn’t want her to think any level of that anger is directed toward her. “You were kids then, Solana. Sure, Xavier probably said and influenced a lot of things, but your brother isn’t a child anymore. He’s a grown man. There’s no excuse for the things he’s said and done to you.”

None whatso–fucking—ever.

And Solana knows that, hence her expressing agreement. “I know you’re right.” Her voice drops a bit, paving way for more vulnerability. “I just….I was so angry that night, and…and I’m not an angry person. I—I don’t like that.” Before he can continue his work to take away her unrequited feelings, she asks almost over a whisper, “what does it feel like to kill someone?”

Her question takes him back a bit, but he knows why she’s asking, where it’s coming from.

“Solana—”

She sits up, looking down at him, eyes watering. “If he dies….”

He brings his hand to her cheek, comforting her, “he won’t. That bastard isn’t allowed to die. Not unless it’s by my hand.”

Roman has ensured Wes has the best medical care money can provide solely for the fact that while his beating was well-deserved, it’s paltry compared to all of the ways Roman wants to make that bastard suffer before he encounters the fiery gates of hell. 

Xavier as well.

She shakes her head, sniffling, “I don’t—I can’t live with knowing I took someone’s life. I—” Her voice cracks. “I just can’t.”

“You won’t,” he vows. Anyone who would ever need to cease to exist because they’ve wronged her in some way, he would handle. He will handle. Because he agrees. Solana is a pure soul. Despite all of the evil surrounding and done to her, she’s retained her kind heart and gentle spirit. Killing someone, taking another life, destroys that, forever pollutes the soul in a way that’s irreversible. 

Roman would die before he let that happen to her.

But the topic of this conversation, it brings something else up for Solana. Something that literally shatters her spirit to think about, let alone verbalize aloud. But, she has to tell him, can’t keep it to herself any longer. It’s not fair to him with how good he’s been to her. 

She loves him too much to continue to lie to him.

“Roman…” Her throat suddenly feels so dry, stomach weighed down by a slate of concrete. “There’s something I—”

“Shhhh.” He sits up, bringing his other hand to her cheek, fully cupping her face. “Tomorrow is your birthday, Solana. You don’t need to be this upset.” He again brushes away her tears, gently adding, “I don’t like seeing you upset.”

Her eyes shut. He has no idea the increased emotion is for an entirely different reason. “But—”

Roman seems keen on not allowing the conversation to continue, solely because he dislikes how troubled she’s getting. Sees it as unfair. “It’s gonna be fine.” He then asks, “you trust me, don’t you?” She nods softly. That’s given at this point. There’s no one she trusts more than Roman Reigns. “Then trust I’ve got this.”

Her eyes shut, as she tries to listen and marinate on his words. Her husband is adept at remaining calm and being prepared for any and everything. She…she has to trust that for right now. Trust him. 

Has to table this conversation. For now.

Roman guides her to lay back down on his chest, Solana snuggling against him. “I’ve got you, Sol.” Her heart nearly bursts at that, at the nickname she hasn’t been called in years. The name her mother often referred to her as. Her eyes shut, stomach settling, emotions subsiding in the way only Roman seems capable of orchestrating. “Always.”

________

The first thing Solana notices when she wakes up the next morning is the noticeable empty space besides her. The space where Roman should be sleeping, his muscular arm around her body, holding her against him. 

Instead, she awakes on her back, alone, with no Roman in sight.

She frowns for a few seconds, sitting up in the bed and rubbing her eyes. The sadness shifts away just as soon as it appeared. Solana knows he must either be in the gym or doing something for work. There’s very little concern that he’s ventured far.

It’s why she grabs her phone off the nightstand only to find a plethora of birthday texts and an attached photo of Dulce in the group chat with her, Naomi, Bayley, Jimmy, and Jey.

Bayley: Happy birthday, friend! Roman’s ass better be treating you like the queen you are! 💙 Love you so much and can’t wait until you get back so we can fuck up some more trucks together! 😜

Naomi: What Bayley said! Happy freaking birthday, Solana! Even if you wanted to, you ain’t getting rid of us. Sisters for life! 💚

Jey: Happy birthday, lil sis! Make sure you take lots of pics of Free Willy over there!

Jimmy: Man, you dumb asf. They supposed to look at dolphins! Not sharks! Free Willy was a shark!

Jimmy: Happy birthday, sis!

Naomi: Solana, you can feel absolutely feel free to mute this chat until you return. 😐

Bayley: Or forever.

There’s a myriad of emotions coursing through her. So much happiness. Bayley. Naomi. Jimmy. Jey. A family. They’ve become her family. 

It brings tears to her eyes and keeps her in bed a couple minutes longer as she basks in the kind words and love.

It also keys her into just what Roman has planned for her big day. That brings on an additional layer of emotionality. He’s so so good to her.

Solana: Thank you, guys. You all have no idea what you mean to me. 🥺♥️

Placing her phone on the nightstand, she finally climbs out of bed and into the bathroom to pee, brush her teeth, and wash her face. She decides against placing the robe over her pajamas. An unnecessary thing considering Roman’s seen just about all of her at this point.

It'll make telling or asking him the realization she’s come to just a tad bit easier.

Out the bathroom and down the steps, sure enough, she finds him, burly body plopped down on one of the chairs in the kitchen, Maria working away to prepare what’s probably a more than necessary, grand breakfast.

Roman’s hearing and peripheral vision is expert level, because she’s barely in the kitchen when he lifts his gaze from the open laptop in front of him and sets his sights on her. One finger beckons her in his direction. An unnecessary thing considering that’s exactly where she was already headed.

Solana is easily guided onto his lap, Roman taking index finger under her chin for a kiss that’s so soft compared to his typically rough demeanor. She smiles. “Good morning….”

He chuckles. “Morning.” His hand moves to her cheek, “happy birthday.”

Heart filled, she lays her head against his shoulder, intentionally not looking at the computer in the event it’s private but still asks. “What are you doing?”

He instead motions for her to do just that. “Look.”

She does, and instantly she’s burying her face back into him. “Roman, I hate looking at pictures of myself.” Because that’s what’s on his screen, one of the photos he took of them at the beach yesterday. 

“Too bad, cause that might be one of my new favorite things.” She smiles yet again, a given whenever she’s around him. Solana also finds herself forcing her attention back to the screen, reaching to click through the photos, most of her, which is uncomfortable but still bearable. However, her attention is mostly drawn to the ones not of her, of the beach and nature and scenery that he took. 

“These are so good.” She finds herself complimenting him, because it’s true. Added to the long list of things Roman is exceptionally good at is photography. She teases him a little. “You should photograph more.”

He scoffs, an almost bitter tone to his voice. Not directed at her, of course. “When?”

She shrugs. “I—I don’t know, but we can figure it out. If…if you like to do it, then you should do it.” And just like that, she’s determined to help him figure out just that. It’s the least she can do for him.

Truly.

Noticing Maria multitasking, Solana calls out and asks, “Maria, do you need any help?”

The older woman gasps dramatically and waves away the offer as if it was an insult. “Nonsense, child. It is your birthday. You must rest and let that handsome husband of yours treat you.”

Solana laughs a bit. 

Roman asks, “what did she say?”

“I asked her if she needs any help, and she basically told me I don’t get to do any of that cause it’s my birthday.”

“Damn straight,’ Solana giggles as he moves his hand to her hip. “We’ll leave after breakfast.”

Being honest, she dances her fingers up his arm, teasing almost, “I know where we’re going….” 

Roman gives her one of those infamous smirks which quickly drops when he realizes something. “Which one was it? Dumb or Dumber?”

Giggling, she hands him her phone, opening the group chat and showing him the messages.

His eyes rake over the words, and Solana has to bite back her laugh at the absolute irritated expression painted on his handsome face when he’s done. “Even hundred fucking miles away, they ruin shit.”

She kisses his cheek, wanting to calm him down. “It’s okay.” Solana suddenly asks. “Are you gonna do it with me?”

He gives her a look. “That’s for you, Sol. Not me.”

She pouts a little, gently reminding him, “but…it can be for the both of us.”

“Swimming with Dolphins screams you. Not me.” He adds on with an almost scowl and shake of his head. “I’m too old for that shit.” Curious, he switches the topic a bit, asking, “does our age difference bother you?”

“I never really thought of it,” she answers, honestly. Roman being older than her truly has never been anything she’s considered to be an issue. At the beginning of this whole arrangement, she had a slate of other much more relevant reasons to be cautious and wary. All of those reasons almost making her laugh a bit because they’re so far away from the truth. “So, no.” She shrugs, adding. “I—I never really had good luck with guys my age anyway.” Or, at all, really. “Besides….” She chews on her bottom lip, coyly starting off a leading sentence, “there’s nothing about you that bothers me….except—”

Roman is every bit as eager as he looks for the rest. “Except?”

She bats her eyelashes, almost intentionally trying to butter him up. “If you could be a little nicer to your cousins….”

“Baby, how many times do we have to have this conversation?” He once again reiterates what, in his mind, should be painfully obvious. “I’m not a nice person.”

“But you are,” she stresses, fingers moving through his beard. “You are to me.”

“It’s different with you, Solana.” He’s not necessarily in the space to explain just how it’s different, but it is. She’s in a category all on her own. “Look….do my cousins piss me off at least 8 times a day? Yes. Do I have thoughts of homicide regarding them at least once a day? Sure. But….” He blows out a breath. “We’ve been friends since we were little kids. They’re family. I would die for them just as quickly as I know they would die for me.”

While she understands his point and is grateful for his level of openness and vulnerability, Roman and death in the same sentence brings out an almost physical reaction on her part.

That’s not even something she can tolerate thinking about.

She would lose her fucking mind if something were to ever happen to him. 

Solana is desperate to change the subject, needing something, literally anything, other than Roman dying to think about. “I….I know what I want you to give me for my birthday.”

His brow lifts as he asks with a bit of attitude. “You planning on telling me, considering it’s here?”

She smiles softly, finger trailing down his face. “Later….” Solana climbs off his lap, rubbing her stomach. “Right now, I just want to eat breakfast with my husband.”

________

It’s called Dolphin Discovery. The activity Roman has planned for the morning of her birthday, and it consists of exactly what the title implies as well as what Jimmy and Jey unintentionally spoiled for her.

Not that that’s a big deal, per se.

It doesn’t dim her excitement. The way her smile is painted on her face at the private event Roman arranged for just them, the only other people are the staff and instructors who guide the event. 

Solana is even able to convince Roman to join her for a short period of time in the water, granted he looks irritated and uninterested the entire time. Still, she knows his focus and priority is just making sure she has a nice time.

And she does. 

It’s full of smiles and laughter. 

Just as the rest of the day as Solana asks to go to the beach after, fully enamored with the crystal clear water and beauty that is the island of las mujeres. Of course, this comes with the almost stipulation from Roman that he has to photograph her again.

She’s less uncomfortable this time around, posing for his photos without as much reservation. The decreased inhibitions largely due to her overall happiness. Solana hasn’t felt so great, so in love with life for a very long time.

If ever. 

But, she’s even more touched when Roman guides them back to the beach later that evening what’s a private dinner for just the two of them.

“Roman….” She can’t help to take in the beautiful set up as he pulls out the seat for her. “This is so beautiful….”

He takes her in as he sits opposite of her, the way her dress hugs her so beautifully, the soft set of her eyes as she continues to marvel, smiling so genuinely at the setup. “Very…”

She brings her attention back onto him, reminding, “Roman, you really….you really didn’t have to do all of this. I would have been just as happy back home with you.”

“That’s too boring.” He dismisses, reaching across the table for her hand. “Too close to people. I wanted you to myself.”

She smiles, teasing him a bit. “Is that why it’s just been mostly you and me so far?”

“Damn straight.” 

She giggles, head tilted as she turns his hand over, tracing the lines of his palm. “Me haces muy feliz….”

His eyes squint with intrigue. “You’re really going to make me learn Spanish, aren’t you?”

“No,” she answers softly, focused on her gesture with his hand. “I’m…I’m not saying anything you don’t already know.”

“Which is?” 

Her eyes lift to his, locking intensely. “How much I care about you.” 

How much I love you.

That part…..that he doesn’t know. Or maybe he does. Solana knows she wears her heart on her sleeve to a certain extent. Knows how perceptive her husband is. But, if he has noticed, he hasn’t said anything. And she’s partially grateful for that, because acknowledging her love for him, internally anyway, is something that she’s okay with. Something she doesn’t really question.

She can’t say the same for him.

Love and Roman have a complicated history she can’t even begin to truly understand. It may not be something he feels capable of anymore, not after the kind of loss he experienced. And she can understand that. She’s okay with that. Because the way he treats her, the way he makes her feel, the happiness he brings her….it’s more than enough.

It’s all she needs.

The dinner itself is just as wonderful as any other meal they’ve had the past two days, but what Solana mostly enjoys is the conversation. Being able to talk to and with Roman has easily become one of her favorite things. Their conversation never goes stale, and even when she worries she’s annoying him, he keeps it going.

He truly is becoming one of her best friends. Not in the same way Naomi and Bayley have. Something different, something deeper almost. Still as appreciated. 

And it’s when the dinner comes to a close, Solana is once again taken back by Roman’s nearly limitless generosity when he gifts her a set of bracelets, Louis Vuitton, Cartier, and other luxury brands she’s certain the combination of cost equalling what some people pay for homes let alone jewelry. 

The depth of his kindness toward her will never cease to amaze her.

Back at the house, she has a bit of a hard time getting him to use the shower in the master bedroom vs using the one down the hall. She comes up with a weak excuse regarding shower design preference, and while she’s certain he doesn’t believe her one bit, he lets it go.

And Solana is utterly grateful, because she needs to be completely separated in order to prepare for the thing she’s wanted and thought about since last night, since she decided it’s truly what she wants.

Everything he’s done thus far has been more than thoughtful, but this….this is something on an entirely different level. 

She’s just stepped out the shower and wrapped the towel around her body when a random thought about what tonight could and most likely will entail flashes in her mind. 

Solana closes her eyes and tries to ignore the aching between her legs, even if she knows it’s a fruitless effort. 

Roman has been an absolute saint, patient beyond belief with her and this gradual process of working up to being intimate. Always checking in with her every step of the way.

But…..but lately, she finds herself….thinking about him in….different ways. Wondering what it would be like to finally go all the way. To be with him fully in that way.

Ways she previously couldn’t allow herself to think about. Too hindered by the memories of her trauma. 

Yet with him, it’s something unlike what she’s used to. Her chest doesn’t feel like it’s about to explode, and she doesn’t find herself panicking, needing to push him away from her, to not have any hands on her because they all feel the same, the same as her rapists.

With Roman…..that’s not her story. It’s just him she sees, feels, wants.

By the time she’s done with her shower, Solana has to reach across the bathroom counter to wipe her hand across the fogged mirror. She hits the switch for the vent and digs through her toiletries bag for the essentials and gets into her routine, focusing way too much on what she’s doing to avoid the thought sitting impatiently in the back of her head.

But, it’s when she’s reached the end of her routine and goes to grab her bra and panties she had sitting on the counter, that she pauses.

Scared.

Solana realizes that’s one of the dominant emotions she’s struggling with. She’s scared to go for what she wants. It’s a tale as old as time. Fear is always the thing that holds us back the most, that keeps us from reaching goals, attaining desires, being freed.

For so long, she believed that she was damaged. That the trauma of her past made it impossible for her to ever have a healthy sexual relationship with another person. But Roman has changed that. He’s changed her life in so many ways, and now, she is presented with the chance and opportunity to take back her power, to reclaim her sexuality.  

And now….she’s ready to do just that. 

Solana slowly retracts her hand and instead slides her pink, silk gown over her head, ignoring the almost strange feeling of having nothing underneath her dress. Solana keeps staring at her reflection, mentally going over everything: floss, mouthwash, deodorant, lotion, perfume on all of her pulse points. 

When she realizes that she’s only stalling, she forces herself to leave the bathroom. Solana makes her way down the hall and into the master. She’s relieved to see he’s still in the bathroom and decides to sit and wait on the edge of the bed. Similar to how her nerves are on edge. In the bathroom, the pep talk was more motivating and inspiring. Now, in this space, her anxiety is doing those damn flips again. 

“Solana?” Her head lifts and she stands up. Roman is standing near the bathroom door, shirtless, gray sweats hanging dangerously low, his hair down. Solana watches his gaze darken, slowly taking in her immodest state, focusing on the clear outline of her nipples pressing against the thin material. “What are you—”

She says nothing and instead grabs his hand, leading him to the bed. She switches their positions and guides him to sit on the end of the bed as she straddles him, her legs on either side of him. Solana refuses to think about the possible exposure from this position and instead focuses on him.

“I want you,” is all she says, quiet but sure. “I want you for my birthday.”

His face reads a mixture of emotions, primarily confusion. 

And lust.

“Solana….” He seems to want to move his hands to her waist but hesitates. “I didn’t….that’s not why I brought you here. I would never pressure you—”

“I know,” she interrupts, softly. “You’ve always let me set the pace, so….so let me set it now.” She brings her hands to his face, looking him dead in the eye as she repeats, “What I want for my birthday….is you.” A fleeting thought creeps across her mind when she adds, “unless….unless you don’t want me th—”

Roman switches their positions so quickly that she can barely process what’s happening until she’s flat on her back with him hovering above her. His eyes are fluttering as he works to settle himself, breathing out, “I’ve always wanted you, baby. Just needed you to tell me when.”

She licks her lips and lightly glides her fingers over his abs. He’s so firm. “And now?”

“Now?” Roman moves his hand to her knees, slowly prying them apart. She breathes in as he starts to move his fingers up the inside of her legs. “After tonight, ain’t nobody else gon’ have you like this,” his thumb brushes over her inner thigh and she grabs his bicep. “Feel you like this,” Solana’s head goes back into the bed when he glosses his fingers over her apex. “Or taste you like this but me.” Their gazes lock. “Understood? You’re mine.”

His tone is commanding and authoritative. She can mumble a quiet ‘yes’ in agreement when his head drops between the crook of her neck, his hair fanning her face, pulling his hand from between her legs. “Promise me you’ll tell me if we need to stop.” 

She gently caresses the back of his neck, reassuring him. “Roman, I’m fin—”

“Solana,” he interrupts. There’s no denying or questioning of the seriousness in his tone of voice. “Promise me.”

She nods and rakes her fingers over his scalp. “I promise.”

Roman is visibly pleased by this, eyes raking over her body. “Good.” He lowers his lips to hers, hands moving to explore her body. “So fucking pretty….”

The light kiss easily progresses into something more intense, something deeper, something that has her feeling so flustered and warm all over. His pants are quickly discarded, leaving him in boxers only. Roman continues to massage and knead her breast, along with the palming of her ass yet still makes active efforts to receive consent, always checking her comfort levels.

Initiating this is major.

Her lips are nice and swollen when he starts kissing around her face before grabbing her hand and turning it over. Two long fingers press against her wrist. 

He doesn’t say anything for a good minute, prompting her to ask, “what are you—”

“Do you trust me?” 

There’s not a second of hesitation or delay. “Of course.” 

“I need to relax you more.” With his free hand, his thumb flicks over her nipple as he explains, just as tender as every other thing he’s done to maintain her comfort. “You’re still tensing a bit under me, and the more tense you are, the more it’s going to hurt, and I don’t want to hurt you…”

Swallowing, she replies back in the same soft tone. “You could never hurt me, Roman.” His eyes flash with something almost soft. Like affection. Like something deeper. “But…I understand. What…what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t want you to do anything. Tonight is about you.” Her eyes flutter shut as he brings his mouth back to her neck, speaking against her soft skin. “Just want you to let me take care of you…” And it’s as he continues to travel down her body, tugging at her dress as much as he can to press a trail of kisses between the valley of her breast, and halting near her covered belly button that she understands what he’s asking her.

And suddenly her cheeks are on fire. Solana isn’t entirely naive. She knows that plenty of people engage in oral sex, but she’s also heard a lot of men prefer not to. Prefer to receive rather than give. “I…..you….you don’t have to—”

“Solana, I’ve wanted to taste you since the first day I met you.” His words, dark and dripping with need make her bite down on her bottom lip as his finger trails along her inner thigh. “Will you let me?”

She’s insecure and a shade of unsure for reasons entirely unrelated to her trauma. Maybe there’s some influence there, but it’s primarily the intimacy of it all. But, she then realizes he’s eventually going to be inside of her before the night ends, so his mouth being on her most intimate area….isn’t really a major difference.

Swallowing, she answers, voice catching for a second with a need she didn’t recognize until this moment. “Y–yes.”

His eyes light with desire, but he doesn’t miss a beat in reminding her yet again that she’s fully in control tonight. “Tell me to stop and we stop. I don’t care what’s happening. All I care about is you. Alright?” 

Solana nods. “O–okay.”

Roman kisses her stomach and wastes no time in helping her remove her dress, leaving her fully exposed to him, physically and emotionally. Slowly, he pries her thighs apart, seeing how she bites on her bottom lip when he teases a finger against her. 

“Still so sensitive…..” There’s a level of intrigue there, Solana watching Roman push his hair back, his tongue exiting his mouth and wetting his lips. “You’ll get used to me.”

She’s not sure she could ever get used to a man like Roman, and the minute his tongue flattens against her there, she’s almost certain she’ll never get used to that.

“Oh my god.”

He looks up at her, Solana suppressing a moan at the sight of his big body between the space of her thighs, mouth curved into a wry smile. “I barely touched you, baby….”

That doesn’t stop the fire coursing through her body.

“You want me to stop?” A frantic shaking of her head to signify a hell no is all he needs. He’ll settle for no verbal acknowledgement this time. “Good.” Salona gasps as he hooks the back of her knees over his big shoulders. “Now lay back and let me take care of you...”

It seems like all Roman has done is take care of her, but this is a new level of care, one that has her scratching and gripping helplessly at the sheets as he licks at her one, two, three times before his tongue darts around and plays with her in a way that makes her stomach tangled and twisted.

Solana whimpers when he starts sucking on her clit. “Fuck being inside you, just let me stay with this sweet pussy in my mouth.”

For a second, she considers it, because the way he laps and sucks on her has her brain practically fried trying to comprehend how just his tongue alone can have her nearly worming off the bed.

His big, strong hands grip her thighs, holding her in place as he never once lifts his head for air.

“Roman…..”

“You taste better than I imagined.” She swears she feels him kiss her slick folds. “Gonna have you sit on my face the next time….”

The terror at that thought is short lived and stomped upon by his hands traveling up her body, gripping her breast, squeezing just enough to make her moan yet again, head pressed back into the pillow. 

His name slips out her mouth for what feels like the 20th time as she moves her hands on top of his, stomach arching, pussy pressing further against his mouth. He makes a sound down there, but sound isn’t the focus when all of her most sensitive nerve endings are being so beautifully catered to.

But then it becomes too much, Roman switching to a lethal combination that includes sucking on her clit while two fingers enter inside her. It has her nearly jumping off the bed, unintentionally inching away from him.

Roman hums against her lifting up only to warn, “stop running from me, baby.” He’s playing with the mess she’s made, essence practically dripping from his beard. “This pussy is too good to not indulge myself.”

And before she can protest, can try to find some words to string together, he’s back in between her legs, and Solana finds her hands moving to the top of his hand. She can’t tell if she wants to just shove him away or shove him closer. 

A strange yet wonderful dichotomy. 

There’s no telling how long he’s down there, feasting so eagerly on her like he’s been waiting on this. Like, he’s been yearning for this. The same way Solana is starting to realize she too unintentionally wanted this. Wanted to know what it could and does feel like to be intimate, to have those normal, sexual needs met. It was just all hidden and obscured behind a dense wall of trauma the same man bringing her to heaven has helped her dismantle. 

She owes him so much.

Especially for the way he gives her an orgasm that has her wanting to scream his name loud enough for anyone within 100 miles to hear. That just might have been the case too if she didn’t press her lips together as she rode out her orgasm, Roman still remaining between her thighs as he helps her through it, letting her ride out her pleasure still against his greedy mouth.

He seems so hungry for her. 

When he finally makes his way up, presses his lips against her, Solana moans at the taste of herself on his mouth. He smirks against her lips.

“I told you I’m good at a lot of things..”

She smiles, her eyes blinking. “Roman, I—I’m ready.”

He doesn’t look surprised, but he does look hesitant. “Solana….”

“This is what I want. I—I want to be with you….fully.” Even as the words leave her mouth, the aftershock of her orgasm still trying to subside, she’s nervous. She’s nervous because there will always be that small voice in the back of her head telling her she shouldn't, that she can’t, that sex has been forever ruined for her. 

But, it’s almost as if just looking at Roman, at feeling his desire and care for her, it snuffs those voices out, locks them in a closet with a key that he’ll make sure is never found. “I—I want you inside me.”

And there’s something either about that or the way she words it that seems to trigger the okay switch for him. He gently traces the outline of her lips. “We’ll take it slow.” 

She nods as he brings his fingers to her wrist again. Her pulse. She realizes he’s checking for her pulse, trying to gauge her heart rate, assessing for any spiked anxiety. 

“You’re relaxed, but…it still might hurt at first.”

“I know,” she murmurs, heat rising to her cheeks as she explains so simply yet accurately. “It’s…it’s because you’re big.”

Roman smiles, and that alone chips away a chunk of her anxiety. His smile is so beautiful.

It’s not missed upon her, however, that he doesn’t deny it. Not that he can. She’s heard enough, felt enough, even seen enough to some extent to know that he is very much an overall big man. And yet there’s not a damn thing about him that she finds intimidating, that she’s scared of.

His strength doesn’t scare her. Not anymore.

Just makes her feel safe. 

Solana feels him shift atop her, but she doesn’t remove her gaze from the vaulted ceiling above them. He’s most likely removing his boxers, the only piece of clothing separating that part of him from that part of her. 

She tries to lower her eyes down between their heated bodies, partially wanting to see him for herself, to see what’s about to enter her when Roman brings his hand under her chin, forcing her gaze back onto him. “It’s just you and me….okay?”

Her eyes flutter closed for a second as she nods, opening and breathing back, “you and me…”

Roman lowers his mouth back onto hers, taking her for a slow sensual kiss that’s timed perfectly with the exact moment the thick tip of his dick gradually descends into her tight, wet opening. Solana gasps into his mouth, taken back by the stretch of him, a slight burning sensation that’s eased by the way he kisses her jawline, asking if she wants him to stop.

The answer is easy. 

“N–no. I’m fine.” She murmurs, grabbing him by his face and kissing him again, utilizing the talent of his mouth on hers to blur away the borderline discomfort of his initial entry. Roman is certainly well endowed and an initial level of pain is to be expected, both from his size and her experience. But, she needs his kisses to keep her from gravitating to that other painful experience, to keep her from getting triggered.

And something tells her that he knows as much without her needing to say anything. He’s consistent and dedicated in keeping his mouth on hers, his tongue raking across her bottom lip before he enters in yet another part of her. She does her best to keep up with him, to match his passion, but deep pants often break their rhythm as he continues to sink into her. He feels so deep, and he’s not even all the way in.

And when she’s moaning and groaning at the newfound stretch of him, his voice is in her ear apologizing, asking again if she wants him to stop. The answer is the same as before. Just worded differently.

“I want all of you.” 

The good. The bad. It doesn’t matter. She just wants him.

Roman is the one to groan this time, resting his forehead against hers, “fuck, you’re so tight.”

Once finally and fully seated in her, Solana is grateful that he gives her a second to breathe, to adjust to this new sensation. Still uncomfortable, the fullness in such a sensitive area, but also comforted by Roman, by his constant attempts to assess her comfort levels. It’s why after a few minutes she glides her hands up his arms and encourages him to continue. “M–move.”

He’s studying her, like he’s done at every point throughout this process. “Are you sure?”

She nods and quickly remembers his one rule. “Yes.”

Though her eyes are closed, Solana can feel Roman’s gaze burning into her as he shifts his hips, the thickness of him slowly sliding out of her, lessening that fullness only to slowly re-enter, bringing it right back. He keeps this pace, slow and gradual, working her as gently as he can, never not watching for any sign of distress. 

And it’s at some point that burning sensation washes away into something unfamiliar but desirable. It morphs into a form of pleasure that has her head slipping back against the pillow, her stomach starting to cave under his expert thrusts. His name falls out her mouth in the form of a breathy moan. “Roman….”

“Does that feel good?” She cries out as he kisses her shoulder, hand kneading her breast. “Tell me what feels good.”

The answer is easy, “everything.” And she means it, there’s not a trace of pain she can identify as she moves her hands up his muscular back as he switches up his pace, quicker but deeper thrusts that have her nails digging into his taut skin. “Oh….”

His head drops down in the crook of his neck. “God, you feel fucking amazing.” His hands drop to her hips, pulling her up to meet him thrust for thrust. “Could stay inside of you like this for hours….”

Solana chews down on her bottom lip, back arching as he adjusts his hips, reaching her even deeper, hitting another sensitive spot that has her eyes watering. “Roman.”

“That’s it. Say my name, baby.” And she does, again and again, his name a song on her lips that’s sweet music he wants to keep on repeat for the rest of his life. “You don’t know what you do to me, Solana.”

Whatever it is can’t be as good as he’s making her feel. Solana could scream from the absolute rapture he’s bringing her body, elevating her to places unseen and almost too good to be real. 

“Te quiero mucho.”

He has no idea what she just said, but he has no doubt it’s an expression of bliss, and it only encourages him to dive deeper, to rut into her a little harder. Her pleasure is the roof, but that’s a limitation. He doesn’t do limitations.

He wants to never stop hearing his name leave her mouth, breathy and wanton. She’s a mess underneath him, wet ass pussy gushy, gripping the shit out of him like he’s never experienced. It actually takes a bit of effort on his his part to not come before she does, a arduous task considering she’s never looked more fucking beautiful being underneath him like this, every little facial expression making his dick pulse inside of her.

Roman has always heard people say sex is even better when it’s someone you actually care about. He never believed that shit. He never believed that shit until now. Because he’s never felt something, never felt someone, as good as what Solana feels right now.

If not for her trauma, wouldn’t nobody be getting any sleep tonight. He’d stay in this pussy, have it in his mouth, have it in any and all ways until the wee hours of the morning. Sleep be damned.

But, this isn’t about him. It’s about her. It’s all about her, and he’ll do whatever she wants, whatever she needs. Even if selfishly, he’s working to prolong her climax just as much for his pleasure as hers.

He doesn’t ever want to pull out.

And maybe it’s also the fact that he’s never been with anyone else raw. Never had that skin to skin experience, feeling slick pussy directly against his hardened dick.

Possibly.

Regardless, after tonight, if it’s not Solana, he doesn’t want it.

Her pussy is premier and just for him.

But, it’s when he takes a brief pause, to switch their positions, situating her on top of him, he sees the nervousness wreck her beautiful face.

“Roman. I—I don’t—I don’t know how–” And it’s as she protests, as she tries to explain to him she doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to please him like that, Roman brings his hands to her hips, tugging her forward just enough for her mouth to drop open from the friction, from the way he presses into her, hitting yet another spot that has her eyes nearly watering all over again. “Oh my….”

His eyes are blazed with desire and yearning as he encourages her. “That’s it…..” Her eyes shut, the sound of him asking, “are you okay?” an almost distant thing, an almost inconceivable question. Everything about everything he’s done to and for her has felt more than okay. It’s felt heavenly. 

The same way her hands naturally plant against his chest, less of him directing her movements and more of her riding him from her own volition.

The tips given to her by Bayley and Naomi just weeks prior return to the forefront of her mind, and Solana finds herself moving her hips, grinding on top of him as if she was spelling her name. 

And almost instantly, Roman’s eyes are shutting too as he sings all of her praises, “fuck, just like that baby.”

She moves against him, riding him with a growing intensity that’s only matched by the level of desire on both of their ends. It feels fucking ethereal.

And when he can sense the pending fatigue in her body, Roman sits up, hands moving down her smooth back to her hips and guides her body against him, hitting her spot even deeper, Solana’s cries of pleasure a continuing symphony of bliss.

“You feel me, baby? Feel me in you like this?” Her head drops against his shoulder as she holds onto him, their bare, slick chests pressed against each other.

She whimpers against him, “god, yes.”

“I told you I would make you feel good, didn’t I, sweetheart?” She nods frantically only to cry out yet again when he glides his hand down and peppers his thumb over her swollen clit. “Gonna take care of you every single time. I don’t care how or where. You want it, imma give it to you.”

His voice takes on a darker tone, reminiscent of his reputation, a testament of the depth of his feelings for her. “I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you from me.” She gasps against him, yet another wave of pleasure shooting through her core. “Burn this whole fuckin’ world down….”

There’s something about his words, about his dedication to her, to keeping her safe. To keeping her with him. She lifts her head and brings her hands to his cheeks, making him lock gazes with her. “No one could ever take me from you.”

Roman just looks at her. 

Something happens. A shift. A move. A disturbance of some sort. It’s as if something snaps in half the minute his eyes lock onto hers. He doesn’t move, and neither does she. No one says anything. It almost feels like no one is breathing. Her gaze on him is just as his is on hers. Deep. There’s something happening at the soul level. A tying of some sort. A connection. 

A bond. 

Unbreakable. Unshakable.

Eternal. 

And it’s with an almost unheard non-existent level of vulnerability that Roman practically whispers against the slick skin of her shoulder, pressing a soft kiss. “I need you, Solana.” 

Her eyes water. The connection. The emotion. The love of it all. She doesn't know if he’s feeling the last one, but she certainly is, and it’s the best feeling in the world. “You’ll always have me.” She moans, whimpering as he starts moving her again, nudges that spot yet again. “Te amo con toda mi alma, Roman."

This man now has her: mind, body, and soul.

Her better half.

Her missing piece 

It aids in the build up, her fingers squeezing against his muscular shoulders. “I’m—I’m gonna—“

“I know,” his voice is strained, his body tensing up underneath her. Solana knows he’s not far behind. He quickly switches their positions, wanting her underneath him, spreading her thighs further to maximize the full pleasure of this final ride. 

Hand to his chin, she forces his gaze on her, reminding him with a hint of vulnerability. “You and me.” Her release is almost immediate, a fountain of tightness and pressure that’s both wonderful and all encompassing, forcing her to lay her head against his shoulder, holding onto him as she rides out her climax.

And it’s not even minutes later that his release finds him just as strong, just as heavy, just as fucking shattering.

Roman lets go, big body jerking above her as he releases inside of her, the mixture of their togetherness creating an absolute mess that coats almost all of their lower halves. But, she doesn’t care, just continues to hold onto him as he empties until there’s nothing left. 

Solana groans quietly as he pulls out of her, the absence of him creating a strange, unfamiliar void that’s moderately eased as he plops down on his back next to her, immediately pulling her onto his chest.

This settles her almost instantaneously. 

He kisses the top of her head, gently rubbing her back. “Did I—did I hurt you?”

She smiles against him. The answer to that question has and will always be the same. “No. Never.” Tears burning her eyes, she murmurs into his skin. “You set me free.”

Because, he did. Because after tonight, there’s no turning back. There’s no block or wall of trauma that can stop her from experiencing this. From truly being able to say that while her assault fractured her, it damn sure didn’t break her. 

Roman’s deep voice above her offers a low, gentle rebuttal. “You did that, Sol.” And as if emotions weren’t high enough as it is, he has to send her nearly overboard with his next simple but powerful statement. “you said yes.”

Eyes closing, she has to sit on it, has to rest in it, has to feel it. With all the emotion, she reaffirms it, reclaims her voice, her autonomy, yet another piece of her life. “I said yes…..”

----------

translations:

“Te quiero mucho.” = "I love you so much."

"Lo’u Au" = Someone who is your absolute favorite

"Me haces muy feliz" = "You make me very happy."

"Te amo con toda mi alma, Roman" = "I love you with all my soul, Roman."

"Yo siento muy bien contigo" = "I feel happy with you."

[fluentmoviequoter]

A Home to Thrive In

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!neighbor!reader

Summary: You still live next door to Tim Bradford's mother, and when he visits for the first time in years, you have to decide if you're willing to let go of the idea of him you fell in love with.

Warnings: spoilers/rewrite for 4x09 "Breakdown", angst, arguments, discussion of past abuse, r is Tim's childhood friend, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 3.5k+ words

A/N: It's late. This may be terrible. I will reassess tomorrow.

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

“Have you talked to Mom recently?” Genny asks. When Tim doesn’t answer, she sighs and murmurs, “Don’t know why I thought you would.”

“Isn’t it bad enough that you’re dragging me back into the Tom Bradford-centric world I’ve been trying to outrun since we were kids? Now you want me to tell Mom about everything that’s happened,” Tim argues. “I’m already working on a murder case that Dad hid for decades. I don’t need more family drama right now, Genny."

“She worries about you, Tim. Just wants to be part of your life again.”

Tim's phone rings, a saving grace, and he excuses himself as he pushes his chair away from the table and leaves his sister.

“Tim,” Lucy greets. “I brought Monica Ochoa back in.”

“The woman who was killed by the gun I found in my dad’s house. Why?”

“Because I knew there was more to her story. You- you couldn’t see past the version that you wanted to see.”

“What’d she say?”

“Your dad… Tim, Monica confessed.”

Tim hangs up on Lucy, walks directly past his sister while ignoring her questions, and gets in his truck to visit his dad. To see if he’ll tell the truth when he has no other choice or if he’s really the terrible man Tim thinks he is.

“You didn’t kill Frank,” Tim states.

Tom sighs before he counters, “Sure I did. Now, come on. Cuff me. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Monica confessed.”

“Leave her out of this.”

“Frank was beating her. She fought back. She shot him. She was terrified, so she ran to you. You came up with the burglary story, helped her stage the house, then you hid the gun in case the cops got too close, and you needed to frame someone else.”

“He was brutal, abusive,” Tom explains. “She deserves a medal for what she did.”

“He was abusive?” Tim repeats.

“What? You think I’m like him? I was nothing like Frank. I taught you what you needed to know, son. You’re a man now because of me.”

“No. I’m who I am in spite of you,” Tim replies. His dad doesn’t speak, and Tim nods as he adds, “Goodbye, Dad. I hope it hurts.”

In the hallway outside his dad’s room, Tim pulls his phone from his pocket and calls Grey.

“Bradford,” Wade greets as the call connects.

“I need to take some personal time,” Tim says instead of a salutation.

“Lord knows you’ve stashed up enough of it. Where are you going?”

“To see someone I should’ve visited a long time ago.”

“You did the right thing, Tim. Take your time and know we’re here for you when you get back.”

Tim ends the call, then texts his sister that he’s taking her advice. He hasn’t been home to his mom’s house in years, and he needs her, needs space from his family and his station, and needs to work through the events of the week on his own. Though he isn’t sure if he’s welcome or if his mother's new home will feel the same as it did fifteen years ago, Tim gets in his truck and drives toward the last place he felt at home.

Your evening walk is refreshing, and the sunset helps you focus on the beauty of the day as you wind down.

“Sweetheart!” your neighbor calls, waving from her porch.

“Mrs. Bradford,” you greet with a smile as you step onto her walkway. “How are you today?”

“Good, good. Talked to Genny earlier, she’s visiting Tim.”

You smile and nod, unwilling to touch the sensitive subject of Tim. Growing up with him, you saw the worst parts of his childhood, home life, and father, but that never added up to you. He ran away from his mother, from love and home just to outrun bad memories. A task you know to be impossible.

“How was your book?” you ask, moving away from Mrs. Bradford’s stressful family life. “Did you finish it last night?”

“I did. You were right, the twist at the end was a shock. I thought the vigilante did it!”

“Interesting,” you muse. “I was torn between him and the builder.”

Mrs. Bradford hums before her oven beeps.

“You take care of that,” you say as you wrap your arms over her shoulders in a quick hug. “We’ll talk about the book and start the sequel on Saturday?”

“Count on it. Have a good night!”

“You too!”

Headlights reflect off your front door as you push it open, but you don’t bother to turn around and see who it is. Two of your neighbors get home around this time, and there aren’t many visitors or tourists in your area. So, when you’re closing the curtains and notice an unfamiliar truck in Mrs. Bradford’s driveway, you decide to watch and ensure everything is okay.

“Tim!” Mrs. Bradford calls excitedly as the driver’s door opens. She rushes out and pulls him into a hug, and from the way he grips her and buries his face against her shoulder like he’s eight again, you know that this isn’t just a sorry I stopped calling, Mom visit. Something happened and that’s the only reason he’s home.

“Welcome home, Tim,” you whisper before you pull the curtains together and put the distance you’re used to back between you and Tim.

You kneel by your front door to tie your shoes. Then you untie them and loop the laces differently. Knowing that Tim Bradford is next door makes you hesitate to go outside. Yet, you don’t want to let him impact your life more than he already has. It wouldn’t be surprising to learn that his mother already told him about your downward spiral, how you fell apart when he left without so much as a word. As a kid, you fell in love with Tim Bradford, and you stayed in love with the idea of him in high school. Then, when he disappeared without a word or trace, and you only found out that he was a cop for the LAPD through his sister, you decided that the idea of him was as good as you would ever get.

“You can do this,” you tell yourself as you stand and lay your hand on the doorknob. “It’s just the man who has occupied your every thought for years. Just walk by.”

The magnitude of your mistake hits you in full force when you’re nearly past Mrs. Bradford’s fence. Tim says your name and your heart clenches at the realization that you remembered his voice so well. Years of hearing it in your dreams will preserve your memory like that.

“Tim,” you reply, swallowing as you face him. “I didn’t know you were coming home.”

“It wasn’t exactly the plan. Genny showed up and everything just kind of blew up in my face.”

Kind of like what you put me through, you think. Rather than saying it, you nod sympathetically.

“Did my mom… did she tell you about my dad?”

“Tim, your mom tells me a lot. But no one close to your mom has brought him up in years.”

“Wish my sister had gotten that message,” Tim scoffs.

“I hope you enjoy the time with your mom,” you interrupt. “But I’ve got to get going.”

“Right,” Tim agrees. “I’ll see you around.”

You nod but feel your chest tighten as you hope he’s wrong. Losing Tim Bradford again is not an option, so you refuse to let him closer than he needs to be.

“I didn’t know she moved with you, still lived next door,” Tim muses as his mother ushers him inside for breakfast.

“You don’t know much,” she points out, not unkindly but not untrue. “She knows more than you. I’ve told her everything Genny passed along. You were so close as kids.”

“Yeah,” Tim agrees before he trails off. He remembers being friends, but not the kind of friends that would ask about each other. “I don’t think she wants to talk to me.”

“Well, you can hardly blame her.”

“What does that mean?”

Tim’s mother looks at him and presses her lips together. He has her eyes, but he doesn’t have her understanding or the intuition about people she tried to instill in him when his father wasn’t trying to teach him to be a man.

“If you can’t see it, Tim, it’s too late to explain it. She’s coming over for lunch and our duet book club tomorrow. You have thirty hours to read the book if you want to participate.”

“Thank you for letting me come home, Mom.”

She lays her hand on Tim’s shoulder and promises, “You’re always welcome here, Timothy.”

You knock on Mrs. Bradford’s door while Tim’s truck is gone. With one of her signature ceramic loaf pans in your hands, filled with your favorite cookies, you wait for the door to open to return her dish and offer some goodies.

“Sorry to…” you begin as the door opens. “Oh, Tim. Sorry, your truck was gone so I assumed your mom would be here.”

“She borrowed my truck to do something that she refused to have help for. Come on in.”

Tim opens the door for you, and for reasons beyond your comprehension, you accept his invitation and walk inside. After you set the pan on the counter, you turn around to leave, but Tim is leaning against the table and watching you.

“Enjoying your time off?” you question, wringing your fingers together behind your back.

“I am. Especially after the last case I worked on,” Tim answers. “My mom hasn’t told me much about you.”

You hum and look at your feet as you reply, “Not much to tell.”

“She seems to tell you a lot.”

“Look, Tim, I’m just trying to respect your boundaries. She told me that your dad was involved in something, a murder, but it’s not my business.”

“Frank Ochoa,” Tim interjects.

You furrow your brows as you ask, “Monica’s husband? But that was a robbery.”

Tim tilts his head to the side as he says, “My dad admitted to killing him. He was protecting Monica.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and nod.

“But you knew that, didn’t you?”

“What?”

Tim stands from the table, his crossed arms falling to his sides. “You knew something and didn’t tell anybody, didn’t you?”

“Tim, I-“

“Look, I’ve been lied to by too many people this week. You still have the same tell you did in elementary school. What did you know?”

You clench your jaw and step to the right to go around Tim, but he moves to block you, and rather than running into his chest, you retreat further into Mrs. Bradford’s kitchen.

“This case – the people there – have been lied to, we’ve been wrong, there’s been no justice for decades. And you’ve known something the whole time? How can you live with that?”

“How can I live with it?” you repeat incredulously. “How was I – a child, Tim – supposed to go to the police and tell them that I saw Frank beating Monica over and over? They wouldn’t have believed me!”

“You didn’t try!”

“Yes, I did!” you yell. Wiping the single tear that managed to escape in your memories of the only time you tried to help your neighbors, you lose some of your fight.

“Doesn’t seem like you tried very hard,” Tim adds under his breath.

You laugh once and shake your head. “I told the police your dad was beating you, Tim. You know what happened? They came and asked him about it. He denied everything. After they left, he took you out into the backyard and demanded to know who you told. So, see if you can wrap your cop brain about why I was scared to tell on someone else.”

“I didn’t know you-“

“You didn’t know anything, Tim.”

Tim scoffs and argues, “Oh and you know so much about who I am now because of what my sister tells my mom?”

“At least I talk to your mom, Tim,” you snap. Immediately, you regret it. “I’m sorry,” you offer.

“I couldn’t,” Tim defends.

“Did you try?”

Tim’s truck rumbles as his mother returns from the store, and you hold Tim’s stare until the engine shuts off.

“Can I leave now, or do you want to blame me for something else?”

Tim steps back and opens his mouth, but you storm past him before he can say anything else. You return to your house after you hug Mrs. Bradford and tell her about the cookies. The idea of Tim Bradford that you’ve clung to since childhood is growing fuzzy around the edges, and alone in your house, you cry over what he told you today, the mistakes you made, and the loss of the Tim you were born to love.

Someone knocks on your door the following morning, and you stare at it rather than walking toward it.

“Sweetheart, it’s me,” Mrs. Bradford calls.

With a sigh, you stand and invite her in, not caring if she notices your teary eyes or unusual attitude.

“I thought you might want someone to talk to. Somewhere away from my son,” she explains as she leads you to your dining table. “So, I brought food and company. Choose what you want.”

“It’s not just Tim,” you explain. “I mean… he was right, but it’s different.”

“Different than when you fell in love with him?” she guesses.

You look up at her, wide-eyed at her question. She smiles and gestures for you to continue.

“I’ve been dreaming about him coming back, thinking that we could pick up where we left off, but he’s nothing like what I remember.”

“Time will do that,” she soothes, taking your hand over the table.

“It didn’t do it to me.”

“Sweetheart… you didn’t let it. I love you, you know that, but you cling so tightly to the past, to the familiar, that you haven’t allowed yourself to adapt to the beauty of the growth and changes around you. Haven’t even let yourself show the woman you’ve become.”

You lick your lips before sniffling and asking, “What if I don’t like it?”

“But what if you thrive in it?”

Wiping the back of your free hand across your face, you clear your tears and nod. You know that Mrs. Bradford is right, but you also know that there will be pain in the beauty when you choose to move forward.

“Does he hate me?” you whisper.

“Timothy? I don’t think he could ever hate you.”

“He can sure blame me for a lot, though,” you point out with a wet laugh.

“Beating himself up over that at the moment, if you’re wondering. And, when you’re ready to talk to him, maybe you should try getting to know who he is today.”

You nod and pull a homemade candy from her special-made meal. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, are we going to keep crying over silly boys or try to solve a murder mystery on a pioneer plantation?”

Dressed in your favorite outfit, you shift from foot to foot on Mrs. Bradford’s porch as you try to get your courage up. Just as you lift your hand to knock, a throat clears behind you. You spin around quickly, then release a breath and press your hand over your racing heart.

“You could have told me you were back there sooner,” you point out softly.

“I wanted to see where this was going,” Tim answers, closing his tailgate. “Listen, about the other day-“

You raise your hand to silence Tim and shake your hand. “I came over here to talk to you. About more than that. Do you maybe want to go somewhere to do that?”

Tim nods and opens the passenger door of his truck, offering his hand as he helps you in without a word. The drive to the local high school football field is quick but silent, and when you exit the truck and join Tim on the tailgate to watch the sunset, you take a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that with your dad, the house, Frank, all that,” you begin. “But I’m sorrier that I didn’t do more back then.”

Tim nods and says, “You were right. They wouldn’t have listened, or it would’ve spooked my dad and made everything worse.”

“I guess we’ll never know.” You look at Tim’s profile and ask, “Are you okay?”

“No,” he admits without hesitation. “My dad was protecting Monica. He never did anything to protect us, but his mistress – broke half a dozen laws for her.”

“I knew that, too,” you whisper. “My mom made me stop sitting by the door after that year, which was probably a good thing. Uhm, are they going to prosecute your dad?”

“No. Not on his death bad. But it doesn’t matter. He’ll get judged soon enough.”

You nod, your eyes still on Tim rather than the pink sunset before you. His eyes have teared up, and everything inside of you begs for you to just let go.

“Tim, you’re nothing like him. You know that, right?”

Tim nods a tiny movement that breaks your heart. This isn’t the Tim you remember, not the Tim from elementary school or the one who was punished for your ill-conceived attempt to help. Most importantly, you realize, this isn’t the Tim you’ve dreamed of loving. Tim Bradford, the man before you, is who you can love, want to love, and desperately, wholly, devastatingly need to love.

With a deep breath, you release everything you’ve been holding onto. Your grip on your dreams, on your memory of Tim and what you thought you wanted, and the moment that trapped you in your position of being terrified to do the wrong thing in your efforts to do good weakens, and you feel like a flower in bloom. Everything seems new, the possibilities are endless, and you’re a new person who isn’t afraid to do right, even when it terrifies you and carries the potential to break your heart.

“Tim,” you whisper.

He turns toward you, drawn by the tone in your voice, and blinks past his tears. You shift on his tailgate and raise your arms toward his shoulders. Tim leans forward and meets you halfway, pulling you into his lap as you collapse into a hug that heals the broken edges of who you are. With Tim’s arms against your back and waist, you feel more at home than ever, and he feels the same. His mother’s house was never the home he was returning to, but a pursuit for this feeling, right in your arms.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur against his shoulder.

He shakes his head, tightening his grip on you, and this version of you - unafraid, complete in Tim Bradford’s arms - is ready to thrive. You won’t heal overnight; neither of you will, but it’s a start.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and Tim laughs against your neck before he pulls back gently to retrieve his phone from his pocket.

“My mom,” he tells you. “If you haven’t kissed her yet, what are you waiting for? Another set of wrinkles?”

You fail to stop the laugh that escapes at Mrs. Bradford’s bluntness. Then, you realize how glad you are that he’s reading her text messages.

“Well?” you ask. “Should we kiss or wait for more wrinkles?”

Tim pushes a stray hair out of your face and promises, “None of it was your fault.”

You nod and thank him, then brush your thumbs against his cheeks. “Last time we were on a field together, it was raining. I also wanted you to kiss me then.”

“You never told me.”

“How was I supposed to tell you that, Tim?” you ask. “I… I was caught up in an idea of who we could be, and I was scared to ruin it by doing something new.”

“And now?”

Rather than asking for what you want, you take it as you lean forward and kiss Tim. One of his hands moves to the back of your neck, and the first raindrop feels suspiciously like a teardrop as it runs down your face and onto Tim’s. You laugh as you run toward the truck doors, thunder rumbling as a storm approaches from the west. In the truck with Tim, you find yourself face-to-face with a better version of the dream life you craved in Tim’s absence.

Bonus:

“Get inside, it’s going to start raining again!” Mrs. Bradford calls from the kitchen when she hears the door open. “Don’t need you catching a cold on your time off, Timothy.”

You press your lips together and smile at Tim, who is drenched after offering you his jacket to hold over your head in a poor attempt to stay somewhat dry.

“She’s going to mother you, too,” he points out.

“Hey, I’m used to it,” you reply. “Like it, even.”

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Bradford murmurs as she appears in the doorway. “Go get dried off and change, Tim.”

After he disappears into his room, Mrs. Bradford offers you a towel and a change of clothes. She smiles as she leans in and says, “Flowers that thrive need plenty of rain to grow, you know.”

[enteroctopusdarkysilis]

✨More Clones Brickheadz !✨

Since I acquired the Small Cody (40675), I found that there was an untapped mine. Why would they only make one ? Well. I don't have an answer to that, but I decided to take matters into my own one; so behold : 11 more. I went mostly for commanders here, but then I went a bit astray and so I added some captains to the mix.

In order, row by row :

Tukk (Not cannon but the colours are so beautiful)/Vaungh (died too soon-)/Rex (obviously)/Fordo (I did Rex, so I had to)

Gree/Doom/Thorn/Neyo

Bly/Cody/Fox/Wolffe

It was a really fun project, and I hope to do more of them in the future - maybe even phase 1s, some day~); supposedly not commanders because I did most of them (except Bacara, I know...The helmet was too tough).

And because I really like challenges, if you want to see another clone turned into one of these (Be it cannon or one of your ocs) feel free to send requests in my aksbox !)

Anyway this post is already far too long for anyone's dashboard, so closeups and details will be under the cut !

Let's start with the easy ones : Cody, Doom, Fox, Thorn

Obviously, Cody was easy, I just rebuilt the original one virtually - Nothing too hard. The printed pieces here are not the right ones, because Cody's are not available on STUDio yet, but the storm trooper ones were relatively similar, so I used these for most of these models. Of course, it means I'm lacking the sun bands, and a few other distinctive elements, but it works well enough for now.

Now, Doom is essentially a colour variation (minus a few antennas). I also used an old space piece, which has this big yellow arrow printed on it. I's not exactly what Doom has, but I feel like it's close enough for a first attempt.

Then, Fox is relatively similar to Doom, but with two DC-17s. I also moved the printed torso brick up to get that red line he has.

Thorn works in a similar way to Cody too, except I removed both accessories on the side of the helmet. I also added this tile with diagonal lines to figure the wings he has. One day I'll slap some real wings on there, but I haven't found the right image yet. I also gave him a Z-6, obviously. I really like it, so I might actually make that one physically, because the way it's build (with old binocular pieces) is pretty nice; although I doubt the pieces are available in black.

Moving on to two captains : Vaughn and Tukk !

Admittedly, not really that different either, except for one thing : I learnt to do custom prints now ! Yay ! Well, these are really basic : the blue line for Vaughn, and some trapezoids for Tukk's helmet (which are, indeed, not visible here - shame, I spent so long making these fit). The Ahsoka pattern was already in STUDio (because Ahsoka already has her own brickheadz, which I'll get my hands on someday~)

I must also add that having some cyan in this whole thing added some much needed colours in here, I'm grateful some people give their clones amazing colours (If somehow someone doesn't know who Tukk is, well just check High Ground Animation. Right now. It's really cool, trust me). Anyway.

As for design changes, I modified the faces slightly by adding 1x1 tiles, to allow for different colours variations on the face. It makes them look slightly blockier, but given the overall size of the head, it doesn't do much.

I also gave Vaughn a DC-15A. It's a bit messy, but it works out well enough. Past me forgot to render it, so here is a raw, in-software picture of it (from Fordo(s hand, but it's the same design for both) :

BARC helmets ? Wolffe, Fordo, Neyo

As I've been told, these look a bit wonky, and I'll admit its wasn't exactly easy, but in my defence, it's relatively hard to get such round shapes with bricks (lego cheated by adding the visor). Anyway, given that doing that with a printed piece was out of the question, I tried to replicate the filter's shape with actual bricks, and I used a printed piece which, technically, is Lando's moustache, but downward. I'd say it does the job relatively well.

I also added a rangefinder to Wolffe, which is a little big compared to everyone else's antennas, but It's still relatively to scale with the head itself. No custom prints for him (not sure where I would find the correct pattern images ?), but I've done it for Fordo and Neyo. Fordo obviously has his well deserved Jaig eyes (and who knew it would be that difficult to find a picture of that on internet ?), and Neyo has his symbol on the helmet, chest plate, and the shoulder not shown here.

The really tinkered ones : Gree, Bly, Rex :

Here, it was a matter of trials and errors to figure out just how to get the shapes right.

I actually started with Bly, by removing the previous visor and adding the macrobinoculars first, then I tried to shape the helmet around. Truth is, it doesn't make sense technically : the two separated parts of the helmet do not connected at all, if you remove the equipment. Luckily, no one has to know that.

Next is Gree. It took me some time to figure out how to properly get a round feel, but I feel like it's as good as I can make it like this. Colour-wise, it was surprisingly difficult to find how to balance the different shades of green, and equally hard was to figure out which silvery colour would render well in STUDio. The answer lied, as it always does, in Bionicle. Of course, none of these pieces exist in this colour, but it's not really my main problem (because none of the coloured printed pieces exist either).

Finally, Rex...He gave me some trouble, I have to admit. Firstly, the part-designing software decided to have some trouble with custom prints, which was problematic, because I simply couldn't do Rex without jaig eyes (and Fordo already had his). Then, I started with Gree's base and tried to go from there to fit Rex's custom helmet. I ended up using Boba Fett's printed visor piece for Rex, because these were all triangles. I also got rid of the printed chest piece and used some black plates to simulate the pouch he has; while also adding a a few more custom printed pieces for the arms and pauldron (barely visible, but they're here. I'm not entirely happy with it, but I don't see much other solutions than more and more custom prints, which isn't my goal, so it'll stay like that for now.

Anyway, that's way too much rambling for one post, so I'll just end by saying that next week I'll post an alt version of this whole build [here !], with some 'slight' colour alterations. Definitely nothing big.

[carmenberzattosgf]

the long awaited spanking fic

Content warnings: dom/sub dynamics, heavy spanking

I cannot get the brain rot for this out of my head. I was going to write a full fic for it first that includeded subspace but imma just do a spanking blurb for now to free myself from the thoughts… so basically stay tuned for this to be expanded

You did the thing that pisses off Carmy the most. You talked back to him during service in front of everyone. It was over something stupid, really, but your stubbornness got the best of you. As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. The look on Carmen’s face was enough to shut you up for the rest of the night.

The car ride home is silent, dead silent. Carmy hasn’t said a word to you at all, and you don’t dare try and talk to him. You’re well aware you screwed up. You just aren’t sure what he’s going to do with you.

Carmy remains wordless as he parks the car in front of his apartment and heads to his door. You follow quickly behind him, watching as he digs in his pocket for his keys. Once he gets the door open, he walks straight to the couch to sit down, expecting you to close the door and lock up for him.

As soon as Carmy hears the lock click, he speaks in a firm, unwavering tone from where he sits on the couch. “Take off your clothes.”

His tone sends chills down your spine. He’s really fucking pissed. You walk towards him, standing right in front of the couch. “Carm, I’m—“ you begin to apologize, but Carmen doesn’t let you finish talking.

“I’m not going to repeat myself. Take them off. Now.”

“Y-yes, sir.” You remove your clothes as fast as you possibly can, not wanting to make him wait. You watch as Carmy sits up straight on the couch, slightly parting his knees.

“Bend over my lap,” he commands. Your legs move quickly as you bend over on his lap with your eyes facing the ground. His left hand hooks around your waist to steady you. His right hand rests right above your ass, lightly soothing the skin. “You were bad today. Talked back to me in front of everyone.”

“I’m sorry, Carmy. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s fucking obvious you weren’t thinking. How can I expect those people to listen to me when my own girlfriend won’t do what I ask of her? You know better than that. I’ve taught you better.”

“It’ll never happen again. I promise.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure of that. You’re going to learn your lesson. I’m giving you fifteen spanks.”

“Fifteen?” you audibly gasp at the number. He has never punished you with so many spanks. The max before had always been less than ten.

“And you’re going to count every single one of them. If you mess up, I’ll add another one. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir. I understand.” Not even wasting a second, Carmy’s hand strikes your ass. He’s not starting off easy. “Shit! O-one.” The next two spanks come one after another, hitting at different spots. Your body jolts in his grasp from the impact of each hit. “Two. Three.”

Carmy doesn’t give you time to think in between the strikes of his hand. Each one comes down harder than the one before it. The only sounds in the room are your strangled whines and the sound of his hand against your ass. You manage to count pretty well at first, but it gets harder as the heat between your legs increases.

“Are you getting wet right now?” He says before spanking you once more.

“t-ten.” It’s all you can say. Stringing together a sentence seems impossible.

“Are you already so stupid you can’t count and answer my question?” Carmy’s hand grips your raw skin as he spreads your legs to see for himself. He scoffs when he sees the wetness pooling between your legs, starting to make a wet spot on his pants. “You’re fucking dripping. You’re a desperate little thing, aren’t you? Even my hands spanking you turns you on.”

He hits your ass twice in quick succession in the exact same spot. You cry out from the impact. Your skin is throbbing. “Eleven— Carm, please.” You beg, not quite sure what you’re asking.

“That was twelve. I guess you can’t even count right anymore. Now, I’m going up to sixteen.”

You tremble in his lap, holding onto his legs with a death grip. At this point, he’s lightened up on the force behind his hand. Carmy also directs some of the strikes on your upper thigh to give your ass a break. It’s completely raw from the spankings, red and pulsing with heat. You’re barely holding on when he delivers the last strike.

“S-s-sixteen—“ you gasp. Tears run down your cheeks as Carmy rubs the skin of your upper back.

“You did good, baby. You took that so well. Such a good girl. You just needed a little punishment to remind you who you listen to, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sir. I’m so s-sorry Carm. I didn’t mean to make you so mad,” you speak through sobs. “I-I shouldn’t have done that I’m so sorry—“

“Shhh—baby. Calm down. I’m not mad at you anymore. You made a mistake and got punished for it. It’s all okay now. You don’t have to apologize again. I know you didn’t mean to upset me. Let me help you sit up, yeah? Need to see your face.”

With Carmy’s help, you sit up in his lap to face him. His hands cup your face, wiping the tears away with this thumbs. You get emotional in times like this, especially when Carmy looks at you with such adoration like he is right now. “I love you, Carm.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. Can I take care of you now? I wanna make it all feel better.”

“Please. P-please. Need it,” you beg, feeling the his hard cock underneath you.

“I’ve gotcha. I’ll take care of you.”

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

Yeah im sorry for leaving this here but i gotta have room to expand on this idea later. Hehehe so expect a more full length one shot with all of this once again and more soon!!

[yuyu1024]

Fate

Pairings: Yoongi × y/n

Genre/tags: Arranged marriage

Warning: 🔞🔞🔞 mention of blood/violence/drugs/trafficing, trauma, mention of killing, kidnapping, gun, mention of food/eating/weight, cursing, sensual touching, making out smoking, smut (but not this chapter)

~~~~[lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 5.2k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note:

Until you (mini series)

Part 1 - Prisoner

Part 2 - Escape

Part 3 - Twilight

Part 4 - Fate

A/N: again... im really sorry for being a slow writer/update for this mini series🙏🏻 i can't help it. 😭 I do get msgs asking for updates & i feel bad... so sorry 🥹 I try my best to have time to get into the story/characters whenever i have free time. I work full time and have a 2nd job too so it takes all my energy. I'm really... really sorry.😭

But yeaah, thank you for everyone liking my yoongi fanfic. 🖤🫶🏻 thank you for the patience😭

I hope this chapter is okay ♥️

****

(Prologue/Flashback)

"Sshh..." she covers your mouth for you to stay quiet and not make any noise. She reminds you constantly to keep it together or else they will find you. "Just a little bit more, Yoongi." She whispers. "Calm down..."

You try your best to do what she says because you want you guys to survive this. To escape. However you are a kid and you are terrified. And you can't stop yourself from shaking like a twig. Also you are rapidly breathing through your nose. Tears even start to fill your eyes as you look into her eyes.

"You'll be fine..." she says to you. "Noona, will protect you."

"I'm scared..." You whisper grabbing onto her long braided hair.

You two are a few inches apart. If she could only embrace you, she will. However there are metal bars between you two and she is.... injured.

"Me too." She wants to cry to as she must be as scared as you or maybe, more. But since she's the eldest between the two of you she have to be brave for you. "Just go to sleep... I promise... the moment you wake up...when the sun is shining after the storm tonight... we'll be safe... we'll already be at home..."

"P-promise?"

She tries her best to not break down because she knows that she's promising something that's very unrealistic in your situation right now. Both of you are held captives, kidnapped and waiting to be saved.

"I promise." She sniffs "Just hold onto this for now..." she meant her hair and then reaches her hand to you slowly even it's causing too much pain for her. "Go to sleep... Noona will be right here..." the tip of her fingers barely touched your cheek. "I will protect you..." she adds

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

[Present]

The silence between you two is very deafening. Even the staffs at the mansion notices how both of you are very distant to each other.

Odd right? They should be used to this situation since Yoongi is the silent type or the one who does not talk that much especially to you.

However for you, maybe this is out of character as every one is not used to you being like this. Well THIS silent anyway.

You usually talk and greet them or make small talks with them or Yoongi even if it's just a random question to make him just...talk. You do anything to make him speak to you. You make small efforts to chase his attention just to get him look back at you per say. Like a dog.

But now, since he made sure to leave you the moment you got vulnerable with him during sex and mentioned a feeling you have, which in the first place you had no idea you have, really hurt you this time. Big time. It is a rejection that you never thought would bother you this much.

"You two are awfully quiet." Mrs. Min says as soon as she puts down her cup of coffee on the table. "You two are both quiet originally... I know... but..." she looks at you and Yoongi back and forth twice. "Did you guys had a fight?"

No one answers.

"Guessing...silence means yes?" Mrs. Min looks at us again, hoping someone will speak up. "What did you do?" She asks Yoongi.

But he didn't open his mouth to speak. He just continued on chewing on his breakfast while his eyes are glued to you.

He has been eyeing you since the two of you left the mansion. He have been silently watching you move along, react and walk from your back. You don't notice it as you are trying to achieve to ignore him completely today. And so far, you are a gold medalist at it. You don't even bat an eye on him.

"Fine... not gonna ask anymore questions..." Mrs. Min gives up. "Anyways, after this lunch... I'll have a meeting with Hannah."

Yoongi flinches, finally reacting and gets interested to whatever his mother is saying. "What for?"

"About the private resort project that she is building... she wants my opinion about what brands to use for the decorations. She have a final lists of candidates of brands and she wants to know my say to it."

"Really...."

"Yes... and as soon as it opens... she says you two can go there... and celebrate... as her gift. Since she missed going to your wedding."

"Celebrate?" You finally spoke after how many years. Even Yoongi whip his head to look at you.

"Yes dear," Mrs. Min smiles so brightly and holds your hand. "You're 2nd anniversary... next month... right?"

"Ah, yes... right." You try to smile it away. But deep inside, you are not looking forward to it.

Why would you? Last year Yoongi didn't even greeted you Happy Anniversary. He probably didn't care back then so why would he care now and celebrate this year? This marriage is nothing to him.

"Is she coming here?" Yoongi asks his mother, changing back the subject to Hannah

"No... I am meeting her at her office."

You are holding on for dear life on your gold medal for 'Ignoring my husband award'. You are so curious to look at him. To see his beautiful face, how he reacts when they talk about her. Hannah. The girl you saw more than a year ago. The girl you saw on the driveway, talking to your husband while she hooked her arms on his'. The girl that Yoongi seems interested about. The girl he seems to.... like.

"How about you guys? What are your plans today after our brunch?" Mrs. Min asks

"Hmm.." he sighs heavily and then takes his phone from the table. "Probably fuck my wife " Yoongi answers nonchalantly making you and Mrs. Min almost choke on nothing. That sentence made you even look at him with wide eyes and red cheeks.

"Omo..." Mrs. Min is too stunned to even comprehend what she just heard. "Well... okay... too much information but..." she then takes a sip of her coffee. "You do you."

"I'm sorry..." you apologize to your mother-in-law.

You are embarassed. This topic should be a private matter. Everyone in the mansion already seem to have the idea what you two do on a regular basis but you do hope that outside, no one has to know.

It's not that you are embarassed of having a sex life. It's normal. Yes. But to have to talk about it to his parents, oh dear god, no.

"Why are you apologizing?" Yoongi's face looks so damn serious. "We are husband and wife right?"

You scowl at Him. You don't like how he acts or portrays like sex is just a hobby for him and it's nothing to be embarassed about. Especially in front of his mother while you are present. He really does not treat you like you have any feelings. He is evil.

"Okay... children...children... don't fight about this... it's okay. You already have issues before we got here so... it's fine." Mrs. Min tries to sooth the situation up.

She's so nice to try. Though she does not know the real reason why there is a huge distance between you two today. It's not that simple. You don't even know if she knows how his son treats you.

***

"Sir." Mr. Kim bows as both Yoongi and you arrives at the driveway, about to leave Mrs. Min's property.

"Get in." He orders you

You glare at him then roll your eyes away. You are in no mood now. You have scowled at him earlier already so why not do it more now that he is irritating you.

"Hold on..." he suddenly grabs you by the arm, stopping you from getting in the car. "Did you just fucking roll your eyes at me?" He scoffs

You try your best to pull your arms from his grip but he is stronger than you. "Let me go." You grunt

"What are you doing?" He asks, "You've been.... acting up lately..."

"I don't know...what you're talking about..." you finally freed yourself from his grip.

"Don't act innocent on me... I know you."

"Know me?" You snap. "How? We barely talked these past two years... You only look for me when you want something done and someone to fuck...besides that, I am nothing to you. So how the fuck will you know me?"

Finally! You've said something. However you can't lie to yourself how terrified you are right now. Your legs are shaking. You have never risen your voice like this before. Not with him. Plus Yoongi is so freaking silent. There was no reaction from him not like Mr. Kim who just coughed because of the sudden tension.

Is he in shock? He must be surprised to hear you speak out after all this time. He had never heard you talk like this before. You can't even read his expression. He is just looking down at you, straight on.

"Ahm... Sir... Miss... I'll leave you two... alone." Mr. Kim finally broke the awkward silence. "Just message me if... we're going home."

You glance at him and bow. Also giving an apologetic look since the situation got a bit serious.

And as soon as Mr. Kim is gone from our sight, Yoongi takes a step forward closer to you, making you back up and your behind bumping on the car. "Is that... what you think?"

You glare up at him. "Yes."

"You think... I don't know you?"

"Yes."

He chuckles. "I know you more than you know..."

You frown. "You only see me when you are horny... you don't even talk to me unless to I ask you... unless you tell me what to do and what not to do... so, how would you know anything about me...?"

He scrunches his face. He looks irritated "I see you more than you think." He mumbles. And then he took a step back and looks at you and watch you tremble,"Do you regret it?" He asks

"W-what? Regret what?"

"The sex... do you regret it?"

"W-what? What do you mean...?"

He then puts both his hands on the car, trapping you between. "Just answer the question... do you hate and regret the sex?"

You look away. "No...."

"Do you want us to stop fucking?"

You sigh heavily. "Why are you focusing on the sex?!?" Your brows are furrowed. You are really showing your frustration. "It's not about the sex, Yoongi! There is nothing wrong with the sex... what I just want is... I just..." you look back at his face and you see an empty expression from him. Does he not get what you are saying or is he ignoring the other parts of what you told him. That the only thing he thinks about is your sex life. "Never mind..." you lower your gaze. "It's not like my opinion matter..."

"Y/N..." Yoongi begins. You look back st him waiting for whatever he's about to say. You think he was about to response to you or maybe say what is on his mind as well. (Maybe.) However, both of you got suddenly distracted by the honk of a black sedan car entering the property.

You have seen that car before. It is familiar. And then when it stops and someone steps out of the car...

"Yoongi?" The woman that came out of the passenger seat, is Hannah. "What are you doing here?"

She is smiling ear to ear. Her smile is as bright as her tear drop pear earrings that is perfectly shown under her tucked bob hair. She's... so pretty.

"Oh... Hi..." she waves at you when she finally notices you

"Hi." You try to smile as brightly as you can.

"You must be Yoongi's beautiful wife." She is sweet. She looks like a friendly and easy going person. "I'm Hannah by the way... I'm Yoongi's friend since we're... toddlers..."

"Nice to meet you." You bow

"What are you doing here? Mother said..."

"Ah... yes... we we're supposed to meet at my office but I just came from another meeting and since we will pass by the house I decided to just meet her now..." she explains

"She must be in her room now.. preparing to meet you."

"Oh. I see... well, I guess I'll just surprise her." She grins. "Are you guys leaving?"

"Yeah... we just had brunch with her..."

Fuck. What is going on?

Just a second ago, you're having a serious confrontation with your husband. You guys are about to talk about the situation between you two. Yes, it may not be the ideal 'talk' but it is a start. But then, here you are. Hannah arrived and stole his full attention. Literally, she have all his eyes and ears. You suddenly became a shadow.

Then you are also hearing Yoongi converse. You are hearing how is he when he's not alone with you. You are hearing a side of him that you are not familiar with. 'Fuck Y/N, stop it.' You say yourself

Maybe, you just need to stop. Just stop complaining about his attention and him not liking you. Maybe he is not the problem. Maybe.. it's you? They forced him to marry and got stucked with you. YOU are the problem. You are NOT the person he wanted to marry. You just got selected just because.

You are the problem. As always. Like what everybody says to you.

"I'll just email you my thoughts after..." Hannah says

"Why not discuss it now?" Yoongi suggests

"Hmm...but you're about to leave..." she glances at you

"It's okay." Yoongi then pulls out his phone and messages someone. "I asked Mr. Kim to come... wait for him... I'll be quick." He says to you

You look at him for a second before you turn your back on him. "Sure." You sound lifeless. You sounded like you've given up already.

"Y-yoongi... you're going to make her wait?" She whispers to him but you care definitely hear it

"Let's make it quick. I don't want to work over the weekend."

He's more worried of working on the weekend but not making you stay and wait all alone.

They start to walk away. You could see their reflection through the windows of the car.

They left you alone.

He left you alone.

Then as you are standing there, waiting for Mr. Kim to come back, you slightly bend over your torso, holding onto the yourself as soon as you felt a little uncomfortable feeling on your lower abdomen. It's not painful but it is a bit of discomfort.

"Fuck..." you hiss under your breathe.

You should be careful now. Atleast until it's fully confirmed. Yes, you are pregnant. Well, that's what the PT told you a few days ago.

You took the test, in your bathroom, scared and shaking like a twig. You have never felt this terrified in your life. Ever. And the freaking 3mins of waiting felt like forever whilst you are in there, sitting on the floor.

But yeah, after the torture of waiting, the test did show two lines. It was a faint but it is positive. And during that moment, your world suddenly stopped spinning. You had to gather your thoughts and emotion within the span of 30mins that you have. (Because your maid will enter your bathroom to help you get ready after 30mins). That was one other toture you had to endure. And to add more spice on this never ending problem is that you were all ALONE. You had no one to hold hands or hug for moral support.

You are, all by yourself.

After testing, you did processed the result in your mind and managed to get back right to reality and decide by yourself to be... okay. To take it as another good day. Because this is not something bad. It is a miracle. It's a life.

Though, you can't lie. It was a whirlwind of emotion. And you don't know what to feel yet about it. You are not even sure if you are able to share it with anyone, even Yoongi since you still need to see a doctor to really confirm it.

Confirmation.

You fucking need that final 'yes you are pregnant'. Because your further decisions in life will revovle around that one thing. Decisions that might affect this marriage and basically affect your whole life. So, you really have to find a way to get a doctor's appointment in secret. For now...

"Miss?" Mr. Kim arrives and sees you slouching, "Is everything alright?"

You turn around, stands up straight and smile. "Yes..."

"Are you hurt?" He asks

"I'm fine... but I just think... my stomach feels heavy a bit from eating... I did ate quite a bit." You lie.

"Okay, let me bring you home quick so you could rest." He says

"Thank you."

****

[Yoongi's side]

Yoongi can't sleep. He got home earlier just an hour after Y/N got home. He asked the maids to call her, to have dinner with him, but unfortunately Y/N was already fast asleep.

He waited for her to wake up from what he thinks is just a quick nap. But whenever he asks the maid if she's up, they just shake their head and say sorry.

They fought. He thinks. It felt like they fought. It's his first time hearing her talk to him like that. She have been always timid and her patience with him is very long. However, she finally have had it.

How can you make your wife, who is clearly showing you that she's falling in love with you, start to hate you?

Well, Yoongi knows what he did and is doing to her. He is very controlling, cold and distant. And these are the traits that can't be part of your life especially of you are married. However, this is how he is. As a child no, but ever since the incident happen fifteen years ago, the trauma and the life he had to put through made him, This.

Outsiders might call him as the devil or the punisher of the Min Family because of all the work he is doing inside the office and outside. He is a fighter and his hands are always covered with blood. Though what he's doing is not a crime. The Min's business is not illegal. They control everything that they can do end everything that is illegal in the most legal way possible. If that makes sense.

They were just a business before. A typical rich family. But yeah, since what had happened to them years ago, they changed their rules and how they do it now.

And that's why Yoongi have this cold exterior. He needs to show to everyone who's watching him that he can't falter. That no one could try to even break him like how those monsters break his father. How those monster took them and made them hostages.

10 million. That's all it takes, for some uneducated humans do the most horrendous thing in this world. To hurt and kill an innocent child. A 16yrs old girl and a 14yr old boy.

Their parents were willing to give the money and even more, just for them to surrender their children. However, the fear in them when they know that the children saw their faces, made them decide to end it all.

Yuna, his older sister, sacrificed her life to save Yoongi. She is one brave young lady. She managed to push his brother just in time to fall on the edge, to roll down small hill and get away through the woods. She got shot and died on the spot. Yoongi saw everything but didn't had the time to grieve then and there because he had to survive yet. To run.

It took two more days before he was found. How he survived? No one knows. But since that day, the happy and cheerful little boy grew up and became the cold Yoongi everyone knows now.

He knows that what he have been through is not an excuse to treat his wife so coldy like this. She was only forced the marry him. She didn't even know him. Which is his fault as well because he didn't allow her to enter his bubble. Up to now...

However, through all the times that he have been with her little by little, as per his therapist's words, 'You are slowly breaking.' She said.

She said that before, whenever she asks him about his wife. He is usually nonchalant or indifferent. Like he's just talking about someone he randomly met. But then one day, the therapists said, she saw a glimpse of change in his eyes the moment she asks about his wife. His expression is the same but his eyes started to shift like he's thinking about it more before he speaks.

'You care. You just don't know how to show it' she said to him.

At first, When Yoongi heard that from his therapist, he got worried. Not because He is starting to have this feeling for his wife. No. His wife is never and will never be a bad thing that happened to his life. He is worried because, what if he breaks his cold exterious and somewhere out there in the world takes advantage of it and what happened years ago will happen again?

That is his only concern. That is why, he added more men. That's why Y/N can't leavr a house alone. That's why he always tracks her phone wherever she is. That's why he can't sleep without know if she is fine or not.

If only... he never had these issues, these traumas from the past, maybe... it's easier.

"Please... don't quit on me..." he says out loud as he closes his eyes, imagining the smiling face of his wife. "Don't... leave me..." he mutters

****

After what it seems like a very, very long day for you you're finally home. You are so tired that the first thing you did after getting changed is sleep. It feels like this is the longest you've slept in like forever.

You keep turning and waking up every now and then but your body kept forcing you to not wake up. It's like its telling you that you needed this. After all of the worrying you have been having these past few days. This sleep is for you.

But then maybe after hour five of sleeping, you felt something cold touch your skin. It didn't sting. It oddly felt good.

Slowly opening your eyes, you see a blurred figure in front of you. He's so close that you could actually smell his scent. The smell of baby powder.

"Yoongi?" You ask softly as your eyes slowly adjusted to the little light of your lamp shade. But no one answered back. You then rub your eyes to wake yourself up a bit more. Just to be surez you saw what you saw.

No one. There's no one there.

"Did I... just dream about him?" You ask, looking at the ceiling. "But I swear..." you trail off. "How funny... even in my dream... I see him..."

But you swear you smelled his scent. Your imagination of him is getting stronger. Your memory of him is getting move vivid. Even the smell now. That's how longing you are of him.

You miss him. Even though he is there  you miss him. Oddly, you miss the time that both of you are just sitting down together in his home office and just reading. You miss casually asking him questions. You miss hearing him talk even though he's talking about his work and not to you. You miss him even though you just saw him earlier. Even though... he hurt you.

His scent. The scent you really, really like. His smell whenever you two have sex. It's not strong but it's there. Whenever you close your eyes and drift away from the high, you know you are okay as long as you could smell and hear him.

Fuck. Is this how being in love is?

Just thinking about him makes you want to cry. You are frustrated at him but at the same time frustrated to yourself as well. Why is communicating is so hard? You know that's the issue. Both of you are not good with talking nor expressing yourselves. Well, that's what Taehyun told you earlier.

Yeah, you went on a side trip earlier before going home, to meet your friend at his work. You needed someone to talk to and you know Taehyung is always there ready to listen to you.

You poured your heart out earlier, crying and all. You were sorry for disturbing him at work but you needed that cry and that hug. You had to told him your feelings about Yoongi. You have to say it out loud for you to truely understand the situation and yourself.

You needed someone's opinion to point out the obvious so it could stick in to your brain.

Growing up to a family where your opinion does not matter took a toll on you as well. Especially to an adoptive family. A family that only needed you for money.

To them, you always feel left out and does not deserve a voice. They always tell you that they only gave you a roof above your head and food to eat because you are what they needed. A piggy bank.

Your parents died in an accident years ago, when you are just 12yrs old. There was a police chase in the highway that rainy day. Every one is on high alert and giving way. But well, the criminals weren't exactly running away and trying to avoid cars. They hit quite a few vehicles during the chase and one of them was your parent's. The crash caused an explosion, killing them in an instant.

And like any drama stories on TV, yout aunt took you in because of your parent's insurance. They are not big but it is a decent amount. However, they could not actually touch it since it is saved for your education that's why the first month of you staying with them was torture. They beat you, make you work and starve you from time to time because they said, 'you don't deserve to eat unless you work for it'.

One reason why starving yourself was easy for you when you need to.

But then things changed a bit when someone knocked on the door one day and gave your adoptive parents a good amount of money. You remember the man saying 'this is for the trouble and lost we caused your family during our battle for saving our children.' You do remember you aunt, being a good actress that day, crying and all. You even saw them be in a good mood. Everyday because of that money. So since then, whenever you have a part time job or one good seasonal job, you save up and give it to them.

You do this not because you want them to be happy. You do this because you wanted peace for yourself. They will not hurt you if you give them what they need.

This is one reason too why you accepted this marriage. Even though, you know you will have trials too. But atleast you know, no one is going to hurt you physically anymore.

Though, you are having troubles now too.... it is still different. Like you said, it is the communication.

Is it all Yoongi's fault? No. Taehyung said that maybe, since I'm very submissive and him being very dominant, grew up giving orders or not listening to anyone because he is who he is, it affected the talking part in the relationship. Though he cannot say that it is a hundred percent fact. Because he explain, everyone have different stories of growing up and these affects every facet of their whole being when they get old.

Well, that's what you got from all his talk. Half of it, you are numb from all the crying and can't hear properly.

Though that talk with Taehyung,you needed that. Now all you have to do is talk to Yoongi.

If.... you have the courage too.

It is so hard to start a conversation not knowing how he feels about you. It is scary and a risk. But you are hoping it will turn out good especially now that you are expecting.

"Oh, right! The result!" You got up immediately and grab your phone.

You visited Taehyung in the hospital and he got to help you get a blood test to confirm. You forgot to talk to him about the result because you two are busy with doing friend therapy. He said, he'll just email you the result.

But then as you were scrolling scrolling through your emails your stomach growls. "I'm hungry..." you mumble and pause. "Taehyung said that if I am really pregnant... I need to eat properly now..."

And you haven't eaten dinner since you just slept since you came home. You need to eat.

Looking at the time it's pass 10pm already. Everyone must be asleep now or getting to bed so you must go and make yourself food yourself.

"Just one toast." You say as you push your blanket away. "Or two..."

You walk along the hallways as quietly as you can and then take the stairs instead of the elevator, going to the upper ground, so you could not disturb anyone.

There is still minimal light coming from the kitchen area. 'Maybe someone is still there?' You thought to yourself and hoping it is one of the maids so they could help you grab the things in the pantry. Since you don't really know how they organize it.

But then the second you turn to the corner, to enter the doorway

"Ah!" You hit your head first at something. Or at someone

Then after collecting yourself from bumping on someone, you look up to see who it was. "Sorry, I wasn't looking at--"

Fuck! It's not Yoongi nor anyone of the staff.

You tried to run back and scream but it was too late. He was quick to cover your mouth with a cloth. A scented cloth. The smell quickly pierced your nostrils and immediately made you feel dizzy and sleepy.

You are barely awake but you know he carried you over his shoulder. You could see the floor and the lights slowly to flicker. You are about to loose it.

'Help... Someone.... Yoongi... please...' You say to yourself before totally loosing consciousness.

-----

Taglist based on the replies last post 🖤

@gaby-93   @goodbyetwenty   @baechugff

@amyz78   @qeen123   @armystay89   @bangtannie7 @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @corruptedmistress @ot72025 @cheezwiz

@xkh0  @eli-deville

[emotionallyattachednerd]

Rightfully His ❙ TP Optimus Prime x f!human reader ❙ NSFW 18+

Word count: 2500+

Warnings: Smut ( Fingering and spike penatration ) low angst, possessive behaviour, jealous behaviour, size difference and robot x human. NSFW 18+.

Notes: You people are sluts for dom Optimus, and I don't blame any of you. He a snack! Um, so, here you go you filthy animals.🥰

Also to add, Optimus Prime is using mass-displacement, though he's still large, if you get what I mean. I didn't want this to be a repeat from the first one I did so that's why I went with this approach.

A day at the beach sounded perfect. Optimus was kind enough to drive you there himself. You enjoy spending time with him. Though once there he would need to remain in his vehicle mode while you take a dip.

Wearing your favourite bathing suit you take a dive and enjoy yourself, waving at Optimus with a beaming smile which everyone will see as you waving at a truck. Not weird at all.

While you were enjoying yourself a few guys approached you. They introduced themselves as you did too, making small talk. They were nice, and the casual talk turns into flirting, and you can't help but beam in return with a flushed face.

It's not often guys flirt with you so it was kind of nice to have it happen, though you weren't really looking for any kind of relationship at the moment. You already had your eyes on someone but you doubted they felt the same back, so you didn't hold your breath about it.

For now you enjoy the attention from these guys.

Not aware, Optimus watches. Being in his vehicle mode you couldn't tell he was glaring hard at the guys, wanting nothing more than to scoop you up and hide you from their prying eyes.

What bothers him more is that you're enjoying the attention.

It's not until afterwards that you finally leave the beach and jog towards Optimus' truck form. He stares at your breasts under the bikini bouncing with each move and that makes him groan lowly.

"That was just what I needed. Thanks Optimus, it was really nice of you to drive me." You say happily as I put the towel on the leather seat and sat on it so you don't get too wet or sand everywhere.

This was a last night thing so you didn't bring any spare clothes.

"So, you had fun?" Optimus asks through a hint of dullness, which you didn't pick up on right away.

"So much fun!" You continue to beam softly before relaxing against the seat. "So, my place? Wouldn't want you returning to base at a late hour."

"Of course." Optimus can only sigh before leaving the beach with the sunset setting across the long strip of road. The drive is perhaps an hour from your place, so you get comfortable.

Optimus watches you as he drives, stretched out on the seat wearing only your bikini, skin damp as the setting sun glitters across you. He notices your perky nipples through your thin top. He lets out a low groan, forcing himself to rev his engine to try and hide it, which doesn't work as you pick up on this.

"Are you alright?" You question curiously.

"I'm fine." His answer was dull and that's when you start noticing his odd behaviour.

"You don't sound fine." You point out, more curious as you sit up more against the seat. "What's wrong?"

Optimus knew he wasn't able to hide it anymore, not after so long. "Those men from the beach, they seemed very friendly with you."

"Oh those guys? Yeah I guess they were. It's nice to be noticed honestly." You can't help but giggle lightly.

"You liked the attention they gave you." He adds and that's when you furrow your brows. He goes on before you can answer. "You were friendly back, smiling, blushing. Do you often flirt with other men like that?" Now this is weird to you.

"Um...I don't know, I guess? It's not everyday I have guys flirting with me. Why does that bother you?" You can't help but cross your arms.

It was quiet for a moment before he finally answered. "I don't want you flirting with other men, or accepting such behaviour from them towards you." He can't be serious?

You can't help but let out a scoff. "Seriously? Optimus, it's harmless flirting. Besides, why do you care? It's not like we're dating." You answer through an annoyed pout.

It's Optimus. He's the one you've got your eyes on. From the moment you both first met you've been overly fascinated by him, and you're already friendly with him, taking any chance to spend time with the big bot. But you were both completely different and you don't think he felt the same way towards you, so you never advanced to push your friendship any further.

However, now it seems things are getting on thin ice.

"Jesus Christ, you sound so jealous. No, you don't get to be jealous, alright? If I'm going to flirt with guys then I'm going to flirt!" You are honestly annoyed. How dare he!

"No." His simple answer doesn't settle well with you.

"No?"

"No. You won't. That's an order." This is getting out of hand.

"An order? No, you don't get to order me around! We're not dating!" You had to repeat again.

"Are you refusing to follow my order?" You have no idea what's wrong with him, or why he is behaving like this. Surely he doesn't have feelings for you?

"Yes...I'm disobeying your order, Optimus Prime! Fuck you!" You lose your temper as you shout, feeling both angry and emotional.

Suddenly the seat belt tightens around your body and pins you against the leather seat causing the air in your to be pushed out.

"Optimus?" You can't help but whisper his name, staring at the dashboard as if that's where he is staring at you from while he drives.

"I'm taking you back to base." He simply answers, tone casual and dark at once.

Swallowing thickly you try to adjust yourself but he made it hard with just how tight the seat belt was on you and he wasn't going to loosen his hold on you.

"N-no, I said take me home." You remind him but he refuses.

"No. You need to be taught a lesson, and reminded." This get's your heart racing. What is he talking about?

"Lesson? Reminded? Of what?" You can't help but question.

"That you're mine."

His? What the hell is he saying?

You couldn't move and you heart rate wouldn't slow down. Optimus has never spoken to you like this before and that kind of scared you. He is acting possessive, as if you really did belong to him but you didn't. Right?

The rest of the drive was dead quiet. You can't bring yourself to say anything or even struggle, and your heart rate never once slowed down.

Once returning no one else was around you figured this out. Optimus transformed with you still inside him which he's never done before. It makes you yelp in surprise before oyu find yourself in his servo.

He doesn't look down at you as he walks into his quarters and over to his berth where he finally places you. Stepping back he stares, watching you. You are still damp from the beach and in your bikini you can only sit there and stare back, breathing heavily, wondering just what he is thinking.

Finally he moves towards you. He sat on the berth right beside you making your breath hitch, before something happened you didn't think possible. His large frame starts shifting, shrinking himself until he is at her level.

The sudden action leaves you speechless, unable to form words as you stare at him. He still has that firm stare on him and you go to say something but he cuts you off.

"Remember, you're here so I can remind you who you belong to." Your response is to give a nervous nod, but you can't help the thrill that burns through your core.

"Optimus, you sound upset?" You manage to say through a shaky breath. "Have I hurt you?"

"You have." His answer is not what you expect. "For a long time I've admired you, wanted you, but I saw you felt something towards me but I feared I might've been wrong. Seeing you with those humans, that bothered me. I don't want you doing that anymore."

"Anymore? So...what does this mean? What am I to you?"

"You're mine. That's what."

Suddenly he leans closer and you find yourself laying back on the berth where he had laid a blanket for you. He's hovering across your shivering body, his shadow consuming you.

"What are you doing?" You whisper through a heated gasp. Your body was reacting in a whole different way, one that is arousal.

"What I've wanted to do for a long time." Suddenly, he kisses you.

You can only let out a muffled yelp against his lips, which are oddly enough soft and warm. You respond through a low throaty moan, hand sliding up against his cheek plating as you savour his lips. You've imagined this for so long but never thought it would be this beautiful to feel the primes lips against your own.

Optimus responds back through a deep moan himself before gently pushing his glossa inside your mouth making you gasp and return the same with your own tongue. Both your hands were against him, caressing his face and slowly deepening the kiss more.

You love him. That's right. As silly as it might sound, you have been deeply in love with Optimus for a long while. But now, he was your obsession, an addiction you craved. All this time he wanted you and you had no idea. He was good at hiding it. Not anymore.

His servos move across your body, dancing over your quivering skin before feeling his digits tug at your bikini bottoms, the lace flying loose as he tosses them aside. Next is your top and that is gone pretty quickly with some help from you.

Bare naked, you wrap your arms around his neck and move your thighs up over his hips, grinding yourself against his plating which causes him to moan back in approval.

You need him, you want him, you ache for him.

"Optimus..." His name whispers from your lips as his mouth moves to your neck where he gently nips against your tender skin. "Feels so good."

"I only want you to feel good, and to know only I can ever do this to you." He says softly before moving his servo down to your core where he rubs his digit between your folds before gently pushing one inside your depths.

The sudden feel of his thick digit makes your back arch and he doesn't stop there, pushing further and curling into your clenching walls.

You respond perfectly, hips arching up and grabbing hold onto his shoulder pads, moaning loudly without any care who might hear you, and it didn't seem to bother Optimus either.

"I want everyone to know you belong to me, y/n." He says once again, as if you had forgotten. His digit pumps into you before he adds a second, stretching you so nicely. "I want you to be mine. Do you want me to be yours?"

"Yes!" You answer with glee and without doubt. "You, I want you!"

Optimus smiles hearing this. "Good."

He removes his digits from you and you grab hold of his servo, bringing it back up and sucking at his moist digits, letting out a low moan as you taste yourself.

Optimus lets out a low growl of approval as his vents kick in, metal heating up as his throbbing cable presses against his panel, demanding to be released.

You feel him rutting gently against your bare core, moaning loudly as your swollen clit grind against his plating. You needed him inside you, now!

"Optimus," you whisper his name into his audio before finishing, "Fuck me."

Any self control was gone.

You hear the sound of metal shifting, Optimus as well, before suddenly feeling the warm tarped tip of his cable pressing against your core and moving within, not holding back as he fills you completely, flushing his hips against you firmly.

The sudden fullness feeling his throbbing spike invade you is an experience you only ever imagined, and it's nothing compared to the real thing. He fills you so much, to the point you hiss through a moan and move your hand to your belly where you feel the tightness, only to gasp when you feel a bulge caused by Optimus.

"So full..." You moan out. "Feels good."

"Y/n." Optimus whispers your name as his optics flash through the arousal he was feeling building through him.

"Please move, I need to feel you fuck me, please." You plead while you caress his face under your hands, biting your lips as you clench around his more get him going.

Optimus does as you want, or what he wants, whichever it is. He rolls his hips back before driving forward again, pushing more deep beautiful moans from your plump lips.

His pace doesn't flatter as you wrap you legs tightly around his rocking hips, tugging him against you more as you hands grip into whatever armour plating you can get your hands on.

You feel every ridge of his throbbing spike brush along your inner walls, the tip pressing up against your belly, bobbing with each thrust Optimus gives you.

All you can do is pant and hold on, embracing your desires and what you've dreamed of now finally coming true. If only you knew he could change his size, perhaps you might've said something sooner about your strong feelings towards him and avoided the fight you two had.

It doesn't matter. The past is the past, and this is now, moving forward.

Optimus lets out long groans as he fills you over again before adjusting himself a little, and gaining a better angle before his movements become more firm and short.

The sound of his soft metal slapping against your damp skin filling both your ears and his audios added to the growing pleasure between you both.

One servo grips into your hip as he sets a more firmer pace, grunting out as you clench more around him, making it very difficult for him to hold himself from finishing so soon.

But you want it, to feel his fluids fill you deeply right now. You'll have other opportunities to explore and experience another time. This won't be the only time that you know.

"Please, Optimus, I want you to fill me so badly! Don't hold back, please. Just let me feel it all, please! I'm yours! Only yours!" You can't help but chant over again through your arousal as you feel yourself already nearing your orgasim.

Through your chanting Optimus lifts your hips up and ruts against your core, speed strong as his vents kick in and throat moans grow more furiously.

You let out a half broken sobbed cry of bliss as you suddenly feel your orgasim crush through you, and Optimus at the same time let out a strong burst of energy as he fills you deeply with his fluids, belly full of his spike and the warm liquid he spills within.

Holding on you relish every second, body shaking through the after shocks of your orgasim before eventually he slowly pulls out from you, feeling so empty now as some of his fluids follow behind.

In your orgasim daze you didn't realise that Optimus had turned back to his normal size self and held you close in his warm servo.

As you lay in his servo you curl your body around his digit before he brings you closer to his face where he gives you a soft nuzzle making you smile and hum in return.

Even after being in control and possessive over you, he also has some loving aftercare for you in store. He cares about you deeply, you know this, and you care about him.

"You'll always be mine. Understood?" Optimus says tenderly and you can only nod softly, having no complaints about that.

"Always. Does this mean we're dating?"

"How about I take you on a date?" The offer makes your belly fill with warmth.

"I would love that."

"Then we're dating." He confirms proudly.

You are rightfully his.