#like the thrill for shit just keeps adding up

[nonomives]

I love how the welcome home fandom just went bonkers over making aus one after the other HAJAHFBJSJFJSJF

[meazalykov]

welcome home

barcelona femeni x alexia putellas x youngadult!reader

summary: you find healing after switching clubs

warnings: swearing, bodyshaming, one mention of bodily fluids, I made up names of imaginary players who don't play for the nwsl club mentioned in this fic!!!, bullying, angst, yes there is a happy ending.

you grew up with your eyes on the stars, and your feet on the ball. 

at 15, you felt like the world belonged to you—a place where dreams became your reality. you’d trained hard your whole life to make it to the world stage, and by 16, you were living your dream as one of the youngest members of the 2019 world cup roster for the united states. 

the national anthem playing, crowds screaming your name as you made the assist to rose lavelle’s goal—it was everything you’d ever wanted.

all of the happiness and thrill faded away when you joined the kansas city current. when you first stepped into the locker room, you were excited. new teammates, new opportunities—it was everything you’d hoped for. 

you wanted to make friends, to be part of a family when it came to being with your first professional club outside of your childhood one. 

the moment you walked through those doors, you could feel something off. the eyes on you were sharp, intense, cold.

“what’s up, big foot?” macy had said, the team captain, with a grin that didn't quite reach her eyes. 

"don't trip over those feet, yeah?" she had laughed, and a few others joined in, but the laughter felt harsh, mocking.

“yeah, we don’t need a kid coming in thinking she’s hot shit,” added jessica, one of the veteran players, her words dripping with sarcasm. 

“try not to embarrass us out there.”

you laughed nervously, trying to brush it off as rookie hazing, but the tone was sharper than you expected. you told yourself that it was normal, that it was just their way of breaking the ice.

 

you couldn't have been more wrong.

practices started to become a war zone. it wasn’t just intense training; it was like they were out to get you. elbows to your back when the coach wasn’t looking, hair pulling, shoes clipped behind your heels to send you stumbling. 

once, in a scrimmage, you remember trying to dribble past jessica. the curly-red headed girl came in late with a slide tackle, her studs connecting straight with your shin. you hit the ground hard, gasping for breath, and she stood over you, smirking.

“whoops,” she said, her voice flat and unapologetic. “you should be quicker, portland has fast forwards and you can’t defend them with those legs.”

the coaches didn’t do anything. you’d get up, limp back into position, and hear them say, “come on y/n, toughen up. you’ve got to be ready for contact against portland on thursday.” 

they acted like it was all normal, like you were the problem.

in the locker room, it wasn’t any better. they whispered behind your back, cruel comments about your skills, your looks, even your voice. 

once, after a tough practice where arianna had practically shoved you into the goalpost, you were struggling to keep your emotions in check as you unlaced your cleats. you heard them in the back of the room, their voices loud and taunting.

“seriously, what does the national team see in her? she’s not even that great,” jessica said, snickering.

“guess they needed a token teenager to fill the roster,” another voice added, followed by laughter. 

“she needs to go back to playing with the u18s, kylie you’d do much better than her in the left-back position!”

you bit your lip so hard it bled, staring down at the floor, pretending you didn’t hear them. you never knew what to say. it felt like you couldn’t breathe. 

everything you did felt wrong, like you were walking on eggshells every day.

and then came the night that broke you.

it was after that world cup loss to sweden, a moment that already weighed on you like a thousand bricks. 

you returned to kansas hoping to throw yourself into training, to prove you could bounce back. but when you entered the locker room, your world came crashing down. your locker was trashed—like a hurricane had blown through. 

your training kit was shredded, your cleats filled with some kind of foul-smelling gunk– obviously period blood due to a used tampon found inside of the locker. and scrawled in black marker across the inside door of your locker were the words, 

spoiled, selfish, fat bitch!

you stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, hands shaking so violently you couldn’t steady them. 

“what... what the fuck is this?” your voice came out a choked whisper.

kamryn, another girl on the team, walked by, a smug grin on her face. 

“looks like someone had a bad month,” she said, fake sympathy dripping from her words. 

“i hope you can still play tomorrow, stargirl.”

the nickname fans around the world called you, now being used to belittle you. 

you couldn’t hold it in anymore. you yelled at them, your voice cracking with rage and desperation, “the fuck? what did i do to any of you? this is fucking insane and you think i am the problem?”

“you walked in here thinking you were better than us. you got handed everything, y/n. you don’t deserve to be here. you’re a little girl playing a big girl’s game.” jessica walked in, scoffing while smirking at the sight of your locker in the dressing room.

you left that night and didn’t stop crying until your eyes were red and swollen. but even then, the coaches did nothing. 

they told you to toughen up, to show “mental strength,” as if their approval could patch over what you were going through. and that’s when you realized you had to get out—before this place destroyed you and any love you had for football.

barcelona was the escape you desperately needed. a chance to rebuild, to breathe. 

when you landed in spain, everything felt fragile. it didn’t matter that you were now with one of the best clubs in the world. 

the trauma from kansas stuck to you like a shadow. you walked into your new locker room, keeping your head down, afraid to say the wrong thing, terrified of the laughter you thought you’d hear.

but it never came. 

instead, alexia, the captain, was the first to welcome you. “y/n! niña!!! so nice to finally meet you,” she beamed, pulling you into a hug that felt warm and real. 

“i can’t wait to see you play. you’re from the states? we need to introduce you to keira and lucy– they’ve been wanting to meet you but don’t take their banter seriously.”

every day, they chipped away at your fear. little by little. 

when you struggled on penalty kicks one time during training, patri stayed back with you after practice. 

“okay you got this!!! by the end of this evening, you will never miss a penalty kick again. trust me! yeah? it’ll be fun.” she speaks with a thick catalan accent. 

you were hesitant, scared to mess up, but patri never pushed. she was patient, kind. she’d pass the ball back to you and made you do penalty kicks over and over again until you felt comfortable, until your footwork was smooth, and every small achievement she celebrated like it was a goal in the final. 

“see? you’ve got this,” she’d say, and you’d feel the corners of your mouth tug into a smile for the first time in what felt like forever.

it was a few weeks into your time with barcelona, but you still felt like an outsider. 

even with the kind gestures, the smiles, the support from the team, you were carrying the weight of kansas like a ghost. 

you stayed quiet during team meetings, laughed politely but never loudly, and when the others shared jokes or talked about life outside of soccer, you sat on the edges, half-invisible. 

alexia had been watching you. she noticed how you shrunk into yourself, how you seemed to fade into the background during conversations. 

during drills, your focus was laser-sharp—too sharp, like you were overthinking every touch, every pass. when you were off the ball, your eyes darted around, like you were searching for threats. 

you reminded alexia of esmee when she first arrived last season—new, uncertain. but this was different. 

there was fear and sadness in your eyes.

one afternoon after training, alexia pulled you aside. the sun was setting, casting long shadows across the pitch, and most of the team had already started heading back to the locker room. 

you felt her hand on your shoulder, and you turned, trying to hide the nervousness in your eyes.

“niña,” she said gently, a small smile on her lips. “can we talk?”

you nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. “sure, alexia. what’s up?”

“it’s about you,” she said, her voice steady but soft. “you’ve been… quiet. more quiet than normal. and i get it, you know, being the new girl and all. esmee and kika were shy when they first came, but…” alexia paused, searching your face. 

“this feels different. it feels like you’re afraid of us.”

you could feel your chest tighten, the words getting stuck in your throat. you didn’t want to seem weak, didn’t want to burden anyone. 

“i’m not... i mean, it’s just—" you stumbled over your words, trying to find the right thing to say, something that wouldn’t make you sound like a mess. “it’s nothing. really.”

alexia didn’t buy it. she shook her head slightly, taking a step closer to you. “i don’t think it’s nothing, y/n. you barely look anyone in the eye, and when someone even brushes by you during training, you flinch like you’re waiting to get hurt. it’s not normal.” 

she kept her voice calm, steady, like she was trying to reassure a frightened animal. “listen... if something happened before you got here, you can talk to me. it’s just me right now. no one else.”

you wanted to brush it off, to laugh and say she was overthinking, but the truth clawed its way up, burning your throat. you clenched your fists, staring down at your cleats, trying to focus on anything but alexia's eyes, which felt like they could see right through you. 

“it’s… it’s hard to talk about,” you finally admitted, voice cracking on the last word. 

“back in kansas, things were... bad. really bad.”

“what do you mean?” alexia’s voice was a whisper, gentle but urging you to continue. she stepped closer, her hand on your shoulder now, warm and steady.

you bit your lip, feeling the sting of tears threatening to spill. 

“my teammates—they hated me. from the minute i got there, they acted like i was the opponent that happened to sneak into their dressing room. i thought maybe it was just... i don't know, maybe i did something wrong. but no matter what i did, they just got worse. they... they bullied me. on the field, off the field... they’d make comments, call me fat, trash my stuff, physically go after me during practice.” you took a shaky breath, your shoulders trembling. 

“they hated me for being good– for being called up to the world cup before some of their veterans did. they said i didn’t deserve the call ups at all, that i was useless. every single day felt like... like a war that i was going to lose.”

alexia’s face hardened, and for a second, you thought you saw anger glistening in her eyes.

“and your coaches?” she asked, voice tight with anger. “they did nothing?”

“they... didn’t care,” you said, shaking your head. 

“if anything, they made it worse. told me to toughen up, to get used to it, that it was part of being a pro. so i did. i tried to act like it didn’t bother me. but it did. every day, it did.”

there was a heavy silence. alexia didn’t speak for a moment, letting your words hang in the air. and then, she pulled you into a hug—tight, secure, like she was trying to shield you from all the pain you had gone through. 

you stiffened for a second, unaccustomed to the softness, the genuine care, but then melted into it, burying your face in her shoulder.

“you don’t have to go through that alone anymore,” she whispered. 

“this is your home now, y/n. we’re your family. i promise you—no one will ever treat you like that again. not while i’m here, and i am going to be here for a very long time.”

you felt the tears slide down your face, but they weren’t tears of pain anymore. 

they were relief, a feeling you hadn’t let yourself feel for a long time. when she finally let go, alexia cupped your face, making sure you were looking right into her eyes.

“you are so much more than what they made you feel,” she said firmly, her voice laced with emotion. “and if anyone even tries to make you feel like that again, they’ll have to go through me. through all of us. okay?”

you nodded, a small, shaky smile breaking through. “okay.”

“did you go to anyone on your national team about this?” alexia asked, hoping you did. 

“i did. alex was the one who encourage me to move clubs. trinity even promised to smash kansas when they go to washington dc to play against spirit.” you laughed, wiping a stray tear from your face.

she laughed back, squeezing your hands. “we’ve got your back, y/n. always.”

and she meant it. over the coming weeks, you felt the shift.

after that talk, alexia made it a point to check in on you. 

the small gestures from the team slowly healed the wounds you didn't think would ever close. 

when ingrid left you notes in your locker before every match with scribbled encouragements, kika making it a routine to kiss you on the head when you scored a goal past aitana in training, or when mapi pulled you into a bear hug after a tough game reminding you that she is proud of you– you felt at home. 

masterlist

[goldfades]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "helloooo! can you write something about reader suspecting paige and azzi’s friendship to be more than a friendship (r and paige are a situationship or sum like that) and just paige reassuring her and saying that she has eyes only for her etc… (paige is literally obsessed with r)? thank you so much 💖💖💖💖💖"

─ word count | 1.3k

─ warnings | hurt to comfort, paige being sassy, reassurance and so much cute fluffy, a singular kiss

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @boiliatfu and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

YOU AND PAIGE had been friends for a while now, but it was just recently you'd been friends... and a little more.

It was something new, something fun and something secret. The only person who knows was KK only because she'd walked in on the two of you kissing, and now she swears she's "traumatized."

The secret relationship (of some sorts) between you and Paige added an exhilarating edge to your friendship. It was a thrill, the stolen glances, the secretive rendezvous, the whispered conversations laden with double meanings. You found yourselves drawn to each other in a way that went beyond friendship, yet you both reveled in the secretive nature of your relationship.

KK's discovery of your secret sent a ripple of panic through both of you at first. But unsurprisingly, she was more supportive than expected, despite her initial shock. After the initial awkwardness wore off, she became your confidante, the one person you could trust with your affair. She teased you both mercilessly, of course, but it was all in good fun.

But beneath the excitement, there was also a hint of panic. Keeping your newfound romance a secret added an element of danger, a thrill that was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. The fear of being discovered lurked in the background, heightening every stolen moment and making each encounter feel all all the more precious.

Yet despite the risks, the connection between you and Paige only seemed to grow stronger. The shared laughter, the stolen kisses, the quiet moments of intimacy — they all served to deepen the bond between you, creating a private world that was uniquely yours.

But of course, it wasn't all smooth sailing.

──

"What do you mean?" Paige's tone had an annoyed edge to it as she sent you a glance. She pulled off a side of her headphones as she kept her eyes glued on the computer screen.

You sighed exasperatedly, sitting up on her bed as you sent her a glare. "What do you think I mean?"

Paige hated when you spoke like that, so secretive and cryptic, like you wanted her to say the wrong thing. She liked things laid out plain and simple, while you preferred to dance around topics, especially ones that felt too vulnerable.

"I don't know, that's why I asked." Paige's voice didn't soften as she spoke, her eyes glancing at you every once in a while. She just had the most tiring practices and the last thing she wanted to do was argue with you.

You huffed, feeling frustrated. "I feel like Azzi has a crush on you or something. I see the way she looks at you, it's like when I look at you — all heart eyes, and shit."

Paige's lips curved into a smirk. "Aww, are you saying you have heart eyes for me?"

"I'm being serious, P." You were frustrated. You hated when you felt insecure, especially in relationships. While Paige never gave you any reason to doubt her, she was just naturally enticing and that's what pulled you to her in the first place.

But that's also why others were so captivated by her. The looks she gets, the way people spoke about her and now the whole TikTok obsession wasn't helping. You hated it — you wanted everyone to know that she was yours, and vice versa.

"Okay, okay." Paige's expression was still very much amused as she glanced toward you. "You know me and Azzi are just friends, we're just really close. I promise you, I'd know if she had a crush on me."

"I have eyes, Paige." You shot back, frustration bubbling in your voice.

You couldn't shake the feeling of insecurity gnawing at you, no matter how much you trusted Paige. The thought of someone else vying for her attention filled you with a sense of unease that you couldn't shake. You also knew that there was still that boundary, you weren't her girlfriend and had no valid reason for you to be jealous.

Paige's eyes widened at your tone. You never called her just by her name, it was some kind of nickname or pet name. She sighed as she pulled her headset off and set it down, turning to face you.

"Hey," Paige began gently, reaching out to take your hand in hers. "You have to believe me when I say there's nothing going on between me and Azzi. She's just a really good friend and she's not into me, and even if she is,"

She paused as she shook her head in amusement at the mere thought. "I don't want her, I want you."

You sighed, still feeling frustrated. "I want to believe you, P. I really do. But it's hard, you know? Seeing how close you two are, and... and knowing that I don't have any claim over you."

She squeezed your hand reassuringly, offering you a small smile. "I know it's not easy, especially when we haven't defined what we are yet. But that doesn't change how I feel about you."

You looked up, meeting her gaze, searching for any sign of deceit. But all you found was sincerity in her eyes.

"I care about you, more than I can put into words," Paige continued softly. "And I want you to feel secure in what we have, even if it's not official. You mean a lot to me."

You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest at Paige's words. Despite your doubts, her sincerity shone through, washing away some of your insecurities. Her hand in yours felt warm and comforting, grounding you in the present as you allowed yourself to bask in the affection she offered.

"I trust you, Paige," you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips. "And I care about you too, a lot."

"Besides," Paige continued, her tone playful as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear. "Who needs Azzi when I've got you? You're the one I can't stop thinking about, the one who drives me crazy in the best possible way."

You couldn't help but chuckle at her words, feeling a rush of affection for the girl sitting beside you. As you leaned in to press a soft kiss to her cheek, Paige's expression shifted, a teasing glint entering her eyes.

"And uh, speaking of claims," she began, her tone teasing as she traced a finger along your jawline. "You know, I've been thinking about you a lot lately. Can't seem to get you out of my head."

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt a blush creep up your cheeks. "Oh, really? And what exactly have you been thinking about?"

Paige leaned in closer, her lips brushing against yours as she whispered, "Just how lucky I am to have you in my life. And how much I want to make you mine, officially."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, warmth spreading through you at the intensity of her gaze. In that moment, any lingering doubts melted away, leaving only the affection you'd felt for Paige.

"But not right now 'cus this isn't as romantic as I want," she continued as you scoffed playfully. You leaned away slightly only to be pulled back by the blonde.

Paige's playful smirk widened as she pulled you back towards her. "Hey, don't pout. I promise when the time comes, it'll be unforgettable."

"So, you're really going to make me wait?" you teased, a grin spreading across your face as you leaned into her touch.

Paige smirked, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I want it to be perfect, baby. But for now," she added, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips, "just know that I'm all yours."

The warmth of her lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a spark of desire within you. "I'll hold you to that," you murmured against her lips, feeling a surge of affection for the woman in front of you.

Paige smiled against your lips, her fingers tangling in your hair as she deepened the kiss, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[buckyalpine]

LMAOO OKAY IMAGINE 40s!BUCKY (like tfa stark expo version) MAGICALLY TELEPORTING TO MODERN DAY, and Sharon’s bitch ass is hanging all over him, flirting hardcore, and is absolutely thrilled bc he’s actually giving her some attention. BUT THEN HE SEES THE READER AND IS LIKE “oh wow who is THAT” and leaves her alone to go woo the gorgeous dame. I can picture her face getting all red and embarrassed and upset. And Sam and Nat and Tony are in the background giggling.

GOD I LOOOVEEE THISSSS 40's heart has my heart cause this blushing soldier would be such a perfect mix of devilishly handsome and adorably shy.

-

"Shit" Tony huffed watching his time portal experiment start up and fail for the fourth time in a row while Bruce continued to medal with the dials, resetting the machine once more. "Why does it keep doing that"

"Give it a secondary power source, there's not enough juice with the first one"

Tony nodded, rummaging through a pile of knick knacks on his desk, grabbing a vial and adding it to the generator.

"Alright, set the timer to 19:00 hours and 40 in the past. Let's see if we can just travel to yesterday first before messing with going back years" He snorted, as Bruce punched in the time before hitting the start up button. The machine started to rumble before growing hot, the dials and buttons spinning and clicking on its own, parts starting to pop off.

"Oh shit!" Tony ducked under the table, shielding himself from getting knocked out as the portal grew more powerful, a force filed growing, knocking down things around the lab.

"What the hell did you use as a power source?!" Bruce yelled over the high pitched whizz the machine started to make, blinding light filling the room before disappearing, leaving a cloud of smoke in its place.

"I don't know, I just grabbed something that look like it'd fit" Toy shrugged between coughs as the smoke dissipated, squinting when he realized the platform wasn't empty.

Someone was standing there.

"What the hell..."

Blinking with bright blue eyes was a young soldier, dressed in a fresh, clean and pressed uniform, looking like a lost puppy while Tony and Bruce blinked in both confusion and amusement.

"Banner what the hell did you do with the timer?!"

"You're vial set everything into over drive, it must've recalibrated to 1940 instead of a couple of hours ago!" Bruce threw his hands up while the younger version of Bucky stared at the lab with child like wonder, his eyes twinkling as if it were Christmas day.

"Holy shit..." He breathed out seeing the vast technology, his mind still reeling over what was happening. One minute, he was on his way to see Steve and take some girls dancing and next thing he knew, he was sucked through a loop.

"Dear God-alright, uh-Barnes?" Tony waved the soldier over, mentally debating on what to tell him.

"Mr. Stark? It's-it's an honor, sir" Bucky shook Tony's hand before standing tall before him with his back straight, ever the bright eyed Sargent. Tony scratched his head before letting him take a seat, figuring honesty was the best police.

"Sargent. This may take a while"

-

Bucky understood bits and pieces of what Tony explained to him while getting a tour of the compound, the common room being the last place for him to check out. The team alternated between greeting and secretly cooing over the adorable young Bucky while also simultaneously laughing at Tony. At the very least, the billionaire was lucky the actual Bucky was away on a mission with you and Steve; there was only so much he could handle in a day. The soldier decided to hang back in the living room with the others, happily chatting away with Sam and Nat.

Then there was Sharon

"Hey Soldier" She winked, giving him a smirk causing the young Bucky to blush, throwing her a flirty smile right back.

"Nice to meet ya' doll" Bucky drawled out making her giggle, his lip catching between his teeth when she flipped her hair back.

"Aren't you sweet" She whispered, her heart beating a little faster when he moved towards her, his sweet baby blues gazing down at her intently. She'd tried a million times to get Bucky's attention before and he didn't look at her twice. She wasn't about to lose her chance with the new one.

"Look whose talking" Bucky chuckled back, his naturally flirty nature taking over with ease, after all it would be rude for him to ignore her.

"Someone's gotta protect him from this randy she goat" Sam whispered while Nat snorted, watching the two of them continuing to flirt, Sharon's hands toying with the buttons on Bucky's uniform, making her way up to brush his collar.

There was no way she was going to just let the gorgeous soldier go.

The machine wasn't fixed any time soon so Bucky was given a room to stay in. He loved the feeling of modern day sweats, looking cute as ever in some comfy joggers and a cotton tshirt, his fluffy cropped hair always neatly brushed and face shaven.

He was a Sargent after all. He always looked his best, even in lounge clothing.

There hadn't been a day where Sharon left Bucky alone. She clung onto his side, practically crawling up his leg day in and day out while the others side eyed the situation, keeping an eye out for the innocent Bucky.

"So, what's a soldier like you doin' without a girl, hm?" Sharon teased, pressing her hand to his chest, loving the way Bucky flirted back with her while the both of them sat in the common room with a movie playing in the background. Tony, Nat and Sam glanced at each other, quietly watching from their place in the kitchen while the blonde continued to giggle and blush, running her finger's through his hair.

"How do you keep your hair so soft, Sargent"

"Well, I- woah"

Sharon frowned when the soldier stopped talking half way after something- or someone- caught his attention. His eyes grew wide, a classic boyish smile appearing on his face when he saw the prettiest dame he'd ever laid his eyes on walk by the living room, making his heart flutter.

"who was THAT" Bucky stared in awe, seeing her stretch her arms up, still in some type of modern tactical suit, rubbing sleep from her eyes and yet she was still one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen.

"Uh-excuse me" Sharon's face twisted watching Bucky stare are you like a love struck puppy, nearly jumping over the sofa so he could run and talk to you. He didn't take his eyes off you, practically swooning when he saw you pack away the gun from you holster.

"Huh-yeah, sorry-" Bucky mumbled, still focused on you, unbothered by the way Sharon's face was now red with embarrassment, seething at what he was doing.

"Look at this guy, he's not even hiding the fact that he's staring at y/n" Sam snorted while Tony and Nat snickered, watching the young Bucky watch you with heart eyes, "Aw man, he's got it bad"

"Hey y/n, looks like someone's got a little crush on you" Nat whispered, discreetly nodding to the living room. You nearly squeaked in surprise, seeing a very very young version of your boyfriend sitting on the couch, taking peeks over at you whilst ignoring the blonde who was still fighting for his attention.

"Tony, you did this, didn't you" You sighed while Tony smiled proudly, now fully invested in how all this was going to play out.

"I'll explain later. Go wash and change and you can talk to him"

As soon as you were out of the kitchen, Bucky scrambled to the group, cheeks tinted pink, bashful as ever, looking at the three smirking faces, wiggling their eyebrows at him.

"See something you like, soldier?" Nat prodded while Bucky nearly giggled, nodding.

"Who was that" He asked in earnest, truly curious to at least get your name.

"That would be y/n. I'll introduce you once she's back down. You might be her type, y'know" Sam winked knowing damn well he was your type. After all you were technically already dating. Bucky bounced on his heels, waiting patiently while Sharon huffed, refusing to move from her spot on the couch. You made your way back down after a shower to see an exited Sam and a shy Bucky along with a smug Tony and Nat.

"Y/n, meet young Buck" Sam smiled while you held your hand out, swooning at the way he shook it gently, throwing you smile few got to see, one he had when he got butterflies in his belly.

"Nice to meet you Sarge"

"Pleasures all mine, angel" Bucky whispered, leading you off to the living room to talk to you more, offering you a seat, wondering if you wanted anything to snack on or drink, forgetting Sharon's existence entirely. Sharon nearly opened her mouth to say something, immediately shutting it with a satisfied smirk seeing the other Bucky walk in followed by Steve. Hopefully he'd see his girlfriend was a cheating whore, flirting with someone else even if it was him from the past. Her brain wracked itself in hopes that this would all crash and burn while Bucky frowned the closer he got.

"What the fuck Stark" Bucky scrunched his face walking in on some punk flirting with his girl, only to realize said punk was a younger version of him.

"Relax, I'll fuse you two together" Tony shrugged while Bucky's face twisted again, grumbling when his younger self kissed you hand again, pulling you up for a dance while fumbling with a phone he'd just managed to figure out.

"They're cute" Steve grinned, nudging Bucky playfully while Bucky rolled his eyes, smiling to himself a little while later when you caught his eyes, throwing him a wink. You laid your head against the young soldiers chest while he swayed with you, unaware that he was being watched by everyone else, in his own world with just you in it.

"You better fuse us together" Bucky hissed, narrowing his eyes when you giggled at something that was whispered in you ear; Tony snorted with a shit eating grin on his face.

"Why Barnes, scared of a little competition?"

Before Bucky could retort, Sharon was up and walking with purpose, stalking right towards Bucky.

"Y'know they're both flirting hard, right? Aren't you two dating?"

Bucky wordlessly stared at her while the others looked at her with confusion, the desperation becoming embarrassing.

"Sharon, shut up" Sam deadpanned while her mouth gaped open and shut before storming off.

"Back to what I was saying. Scared, Barnes?"

"You should be the scared one" Bucky sassed back, knowing exactly what his younger self was capable of; he knew that innocent boyish charm did wonders when it needed to. That being said, even his past self recognized real love, gravitating towards his one true soul mate after just seeing her once.

He watched the two of you continue to dance and whisper, the young soldier tipping your chin up, eyes flicking to your lips, his soft pouty pink lips so close to yours, leaning down so he could press a kiss so sweet-

"Alright that's it, punk get your hands off her!"

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑪𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒚

╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : porn with little plot, pure filth actually (quite self-indulgent), slight food play?, food sharing, slight public teasing if you squint, essentially just xavier being a little shit (again), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral (f. receiving), vaginal sex (unprotected), creampie, cum eating, praise, use of pet name "angel", references to "childhood snacks" secret times, lmk if i missed any tags!! ((unedited))

wc : 4.5k

an : has NO ONE ELSE noticed how often strawberry is mentioned in xavier's cards?!!! and also, thank you for 500+ follows where did you all come from omg,,,

You were far better than any candy.

It wasn't often that the two of you got to spend a day outside together.

With how your occupations treated the both of you, most of your days off were much-preferred to be spent indoors—cuddling, watching a movie, or whatnot... and Xavier, of course, was always very fond on catching up on his sleep. Not that you ever minded; in fact, you found those extra days of simple rest very welcome. In your little afternoon naps, Xavier's presence by your side was always comfortable under the warmth of the sunlight.

But...

Sometimes, days like this were just as welcome.

Despite the Linkon heat, you wore a big smile on your face as Xavier helped you off the viking ride, gently guiding you as you stepped out of the ceramic boat. You dusted off your dress, looking back at the boat with a wistful gaze.

"That was fun, wasn't it?" He echoed your thoughts, slowly lacing his fingers together with yours in the exact way that made your heart flutter.

You looked back at him with another smile, falling into step with him. In your mind you recalled the brush of the wind in your faces as the ride swung higher and higher, the thump in your heart recalling the thrill of it and turning your smile into a full-blown grin. "Yeah!" you nodded enthusiastically. "I'm glad we went with your suggestion. Starting off with the more relaxing rides and working our way to the fun ones... You get to feel the thrill all the more!"

You caught the way his gaze softened, and he gently squeezed your wrist. "The face you make when you're excited is really pretty."

His comment came casually, and he nodded lightly to himself, almost as if confirming his statement as a pink blush slowly made its way to the tips of your ears.

"When you're embarrassed, too," he added with a smile.

You would never tire of it—how he would always make you fluster with his words, so nonchalant, so unexpected. He had that sort of habit, especially with you—the gall he had to present himself so unassuming and casual, you could never understand it, but it did the job quite well and sent your heart for a ride of its own.

With a little huff, you looked away. "You, too, then!" you could tease back normally, but this time, your response held a little less bite to it, and Xavier laughed.

"If that's how you feel, then I won't complain."

The two of you paused in front of a souvenir shop, and immediately, you felt your eyes brighten. Your grip on his hand tightened. "Xavier—"

"You want to go, right?" He had that same, knowing, gentle smile on his face, and he inclined his head towards the entrance. "Sure, then."

"But... you have to come with me!" Again, you tugged at his arm.

But there was a glint in his eyes, almost as if he knew what you were planning.

Xavier shook his head. "How about this? You can surprise me with something from this shop... And then it'll be my turn to surprise you at the next one we come across." He made a quick glance at the map in his other hand. "I think it sounds fair. Don't you?"

You could pout at his words, but there was truth in what he spoke—even as you looked at him inquisitively, you could find nothing that showed he wouldn't keep this promise, and there was no reason to refuse.

Except...

Curiously, you peered at him.

"You should know exactly what's in store for you," you narrowed your eyes playfully. "Why are you indulging me today?"

Xavier shrugged, then, and even the smile on his lips couldn't prepare you for his next statement, so raw, and honest, and genuine that it made your heart turn—"I like seeing you happy."

There wasn't an ounce of mirth in his eyes when he spoke this, and perhaps, though he was normally straightforward with you and affectionate like this at the most random of times, it would never prevent the butterflies from racing in your stomach.

Blushing, you turned away, letting go of his hand and walking to the store.

"...Wait for me here, then!"

And perhaps, it could have been part of his plan to ease you out of bullying him the way you often did, for it surely worked:

You returned out of the store not with matching bunny headbands like you'd originally intended, but cat ones, instead.

Close enough, you thought.

With a small smile, you shielded your eyes from the sun and glanced around for Xavier, only to spot him lounging near an empty bench by the fountain. It was closer to the bushes and a lot cooler with the breeze, seeing as it was a spot much further away from the crowds of people. His legs were crossed as he flipped through the pages of one of his little pocket books, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, no doubt a sign that he, too, was feeling a little hot with the noontime sun at its peak.

As you approached with the headbands in your hand, your footsteps slowed when you noticed him reach upwards to brush the hair out of his face, his mouth opening slightly to guide the lollipop he had from one side of his cheek to the other.

Despite yourself, you gulped—

And curse how attractive of a boyfriend you truly had.

When he looked up at you, you'd barely registered for yourself that you had settled down to sit beside him, and his eyes drifted to the headbands in your hand.

"...Cat headbands?" He momentarily took the lollipop out of his mouth and raised his eyebrows at you, clearly amused. "I was expecting something else."

But you didn't reply.

Your eyes met, then, and a small, tiny tiny little smirk played on his face. It told you everything you needed to know.

Instead, you noted the slight stick of candy on the corner of his mouth, and when he put the treat back in, you barely noticed the way he took the headband from you and promptly put it over his head. Your eyes instead were focused on the way he languidly swirled his tongue over the candy.

He let out a hum of consideration as he looked at himself through the locked screen of his phone, but when the lollipop shifted around in his mouth again, his eyes turned back to you—

You had been caught.

Instinctively, you pulled your hand away from him, but he was quick as he held it in place, slowly sliding the lollipop back out of his mouth and twirling the stick between his thumb and his forefinger thoughtfully.

"This? Oh... Someone came by with all sorts of candies to sell. The children were crowding him, but I managed to get one." His gaze switched from the lollipop and then back to your face, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Sorry, angel... Did you want one, too?"

"You, um.... You didn't tell me you were gonna get one..." Your voice was thick when you spoke, and you fumbled slightly with your words.

He smiled.

Something in you told you it would be dangerous if you dared to answer, but you found that you couldn't look away from him. "...Mhm," you nodded your head, honestly speaking, even as your breath caught in your throat when he reached over to stroke the side of your face.

"We can look for a candy store next," he murmured.

You watched his eyes drop to your mouth, and he slid the thumb of his hand slowly down to your lip, his smile almost widening at the way your jaw dropped opening ever so slightly.

"Guess you don't want to wait."

Without waiting, his other hand, holding the lollipop, still wet and half-dissolved from how it had stayed in his mouth prior to your arrival, and slid it into yours. Your gazes locked as you instinctively curled your tongue around the candy, wandering over every inch of it, taking in its flavor before swallowing.

And he smiled.

"It's strawberry bubblegum," he nodded at you, again speaking somewhat matter-of-factly, but that same sly, sly smile was still plastered on his face.

Then he pushed.

A slow, filling push, as he slid the pop further into your mouth.

You gasped at the feeling, unable to help the way you sucked on the candy, unable to stop yourself from maintaining eye contact and seeing every little way pure delight would make its way to his features.

Your tongue swirled over the lollipop, lips parting when he withdrew it, feeling the way your mouth would stick with sweetness before he was guiding it back into you, twirling the stick between his fingers and allowing you to taste it again, and again. And he remained silent as he did it; slowly, precisely guiding the treat in and out of your mouth, having you breathe carefully through your nose as you looked up at him with your eyes half-lidded.

The edges of your mouth were coated with saliva and melted sugar, sticky as you swallowed all of the flavor that you could, dissolving the candy with your tongue as much as you possibly could.

When the candy remaining on the stick was considerably small, he pulled the treat out of your mouth and back into his, biting it off with an almost cheeky grin.

"It's good, isn't it?" he hummed, making a show of licking his fingers clean in front of you, watching as your eyes shifted to once again follow the movements of his tongue, and smirking slightly as your breathing became short and quick.

"Something wrong, angel?" he tilted your head back up to meet his eyes, voice so soft that you could melt. He noted the way your skin was wet and sticky, shining with the residue of the candy, and he didn't wait for your answer.

Instead, he leaned over to lap at your chin, quick, small kitten licks up your jawline until he was kissing you, making you taste the thick, sweet flavor of the strawberry lollipop still llingering in your mouths.

When he pulled away, you were dazed, your heartbeat erratic, barely processing the way he handed you a wipe to actually properly clean your face, your lips turning down into a pout.

"...You're unfair, Xavier," you whined.

You pouted even as he placed your headband onto your head, clearly smiling with satisfaction at the way the both of you matched.

"Why's that, angel?" he hummed, feigning innocence like he often did.

And it pissed you off, it really did—he was infuriating when he wanted to be, even after all he'd done just now, the taste of the candy still lingering on the tip of your tongue.

"Oh, come on! How can you do all of that and act like nothing happened?" you huffed. "I want you..."

His eyes crinkled up in joy as he laughed, reaching over to pat your head. "But we're here for the rides, aren't we? You said you'd go on all of them."

When you crossed your arms and looked away, pressing your thighs together in a way that he definitely noticed, he only chuckled once more and gave you a small kiss on the top of your head.

"Later," he murmured, "I promise. But for now... We shouldn't waste our admission tickets."

You couldn't argue after that.

He had a point, after all—and luckily for you, in the end, it wasn't too hard for you to let your arousal slip off your mind for the rest of the day.

Instead, you simply enjoyed being in his company.

Each ride you took, from the drop tower to the rollercoaster to even a little game of bumper cars, was as exhilarating as the last. Even winning a target game against him by barely a single point had you jumping up and down with glee, your arm carrying a big, fluffy white bunny that you confidently stated looked a lot like him. And almost like an unspoken promise, he didn't tease you any more than he already had—the cotton candy remained cotton candy, the marshmallows remained marshmallows, and the animal crackers were eaten just as they should be.

By the time you both had walked back to your apartment, the little bag in his hand containing whatever "surprise" he'd gotten for you rustled against his wrist, and you peered curiously into it once you settled with him on the couch.

"Candy?" you questioned doubtfully as you pulled out a little packet of licorcice, but your eyes shone when you eagerly popped it into your mouth and chewed.

Xavier shrugged, leaning back into the couch. "That... last time we tried snacks together was fun, so I figured you'd appreciate another one."

You almost laughed. "But those were my childhood snacks! These are just your typical candy! We could've tried these any day, you know?"

He raised an eyebrow, taking a chewable candy into his mouth. "We could've worn animal ears any other day, too."

This time you grinned, and settled into his arms. "Yeah, you're right. I have a sweet tooth, anyway, so I'll gladly eat candy with you. You didn't need to set this up..."

You fished into the bag and pulled out a smaller bag of chocolate bits, its brand unfamiliar to you as you held it up.

"Oh, I thought you'd like that one," Xavier spoke first this time. "You like milk chocolate, don't you?"

Something in your heart sparked at the mention, and you couldn't help but smile. "You remembered!"

Your hands were eager as you opened up the packet, unwrapping one piece and putting it into your mouth.

The first bite had your eyes sparkling wide, noting how it melted into your mouth as you chewed.

Xavier looked at you, amused. "Is it good?"

You were excited as you took out another piece of chocolate, and you nodded—this time, you closed your eyes to savor the taste, letting yourself relax into the richness of its flavor. "Mmm... t'so good..." You'd barely noticed the way your satisfaction had the tone of your words twisting into something mildly inappropriate, your eyes still closed as you chewed. And you couldn't have registered that particular smile edge at Xavier's lips once more.

But Xavier wouldn't let you off the hook that easily.

"Hmm. Could I try some?" His voice was close to your ear when he murmured out his words, but you were happy to oblige him, clearly not catching onto his intentions.

You held up the bag of chocolates for him, taking yet another into your mouth—

Instead, he smirked down at you and gently set the chocolates back into the bag with the rest of the candy, pushing it off the couch as his lips found yours.

Your eyes widened, his tongue mixing with yours and tasting for himself the milkiness of the chocolate you'd eaten, his own eyes half-lidded as he lowered you onto the couch. When your head hit the armrest, all sense of arousal from earlier at the theme park came rushing back to you in waves, and you gave in.

Xavier pulled away only to kiss you once more with increasing fervor, and you moaned into the kiss, feeling any rational thought seep from your head within seconds. Your arms were around his neck and his hand was in your hair, your clothed bodies flush against each other as the kiss, the moment, became steadily more passionate, steadily more heated.

The bag of candy slumped on the ground beside the couch, easily long-forgotten with the way his lips moved against yours, his tongue soft and wet in your mouth as the heat slowly began to crawl over to your cheeks. When he pulled back, you were flushed, breathless. His body hovered over yours, his hair hanging over your face, his eyes displaying a lingering sense of desire that mirrored your own.

You swallowed thickly.

"Yeah," Xavier breathed, his voice hushed. He licked his lips. "The chocolate tastes good."

You could barely believe he was still talking about that.

"I-I don—"

"But... I have an idea of what would taste better."

He cut off the beginnings of your protest with a little smirk, and you could see the way his eyes raked over your body to where the skirt of your dress had ridden up just enough to expose the side of your panties.

Your heart thrummed loudly in your chest.

"Wh- what would that be?" You tried testing him, tried to look into his eyes to gauge what his next move was.

"You don't know, angel?" He murmured as he drew closer to you once more, lips barely touching yours, his hot breath fanning over your face.

Feebly, you whimpered, but you didn't dare make a move.

Xavier dipped down to bury his face into your neck, and breathed in deeply. "You smell like strawberries."

Your breath hitched.

"Did you plan this? Your lotion... It's new."

You felt his hands snake underneath your dress, pushing the fabric upwards to grip firmly on your waist. The contact on your bare skin made your eyelids flutter closed.

"F-for you," you replied, your breath shaky.

"For me?"

"Y-you... You like strawberry, so I thought I, um... would make you happy with it..."

Xavier pulled back away from you with a warm smile, his hand leaving your waist momentarily to brush the hair out of his face.

"You always make me happy no matter what you do, angel," he spoke sincerely, genuinely, despite the heated moment that the both of you had just shared. But his eyes narrowed almost playfully, and he tilted his head to the side with a short laugh. "But you don't know how much I've been waiting to eat you up because of that scent."

His words made you whine, a mixture of both pride and embarrassment coarsing through your body at the fact that you had been the one to get him all needy like this for you.

"So, angel..." Xavier trailed his fingertips over your thighs, pushing them apart as he shifted downwards, closer to your core. Another smile teased at his lips when your breath hitched, but his eyes never left yours. "May I?"

You threaded your hands into his hair, and your eyes fell closed.

"Okay."

His lips were on your thighs then, warm and soft as he trailed his kisses upwards. And the sensation of it all made you shiver, but you could almost feel the way it affected him, too. He'd let out soft sighs against your skin, drinking in your scent and your warmth, and then his kisses would almost get needier, craving you just as much as he made you crave him.

You gasped the minute he pressed himself closer to your clothed cunt, breathing in your scent yet again and then poking his tongue out at the wetness that had gathered in your center. Then from there, his movements became quick—his hands shifted beneath your hips, lifting them upwards towards him, your legs draped over his shoulders as he pushed your panties to the side. You couldn't help the way your mouth fell open with a drawn-out moan of his name once he ran his tongue through your folds, licking a wet stripe from your slit upwards.

Your fingers gripped desperately into his hair.

Such a simple motion already had you reeling.

"You even taste like fucking strawberries," he mumbled, before he repeated the motions, long, slow, languid licks that geadually turned to gentle lapping at your wetness. His tongue moved upwards to flick occasionally at your clit, and you could revel in the way he looked—so lost in your taste, his quiet groans reverberating through your body.

And then your thighs trembled around his head, and your eyes widened at the smooth, silky prodding of his tongue as it finally slid inside of you.

"O- oh, god," you leaned your head back against the armrest of his couch, your eyes falling shut once more.

You could have sworn you felt him smile.

With another moan, your hand fell from his head back onto the couch, searching for purchase only for him to reach out, taking advantage of the way you arched your back, and catch your hand with his.

He laced your fingers through together even as he continued to swirl his tongue in your heat, drinking up your arousal, pressing his face closer and closer into you—despite the obscenity of his ministrations and the noises that fell from your lips, the simple action of holding your hand almost made you swoon.

And he didn't dare let go of it.

"I— haah— Xavi—!"

Feeling a familiar knot form in your stomach, you began to languidly roll your hips against his face, matching the way his tongue would dance over and in your folds. In response, Xavier moved with fervor in his actions, focusing on sucking at your clit, flicking his tongue in ways he knew you loved best.

You barely noticed the way his other hand had also left its spot by your hips before a finger entered where his tongue had earlier been—he hooked it inwards, curling just right to hit your sensitive spot, and you let out another loud moan.

"Fuck—! X-Xavier!" You threw your head back, gripping his hand tightly, your other digging desperately into his couch. Your body writhed, a sharp rush of pleasure making you shudder and cry out more of his name as he continued to swirl around your clit, and another finger carefully prodded at your hole.

You couldn't see the way he smiled at you, but you felt it—felt it in the way he sucked on your bud, felt it in the way he stretched you out and moved his fingers in and out of you, until you snapped.

Your hips bucked upwards and into him, holding in place, as your body succumbed to the pleasure.

"X—Xavi—er!" You cried, and his hand holding yours made sweet, gentle caresses over your skin, his tongue still lapping up all that you had to give him. He let out a hum as he moved from your cunt, to your thighs, to your belly, and up to the exposed skin on your neck, leaving a loving trail of kisses, and then he rest his forehead against yours.

"Did that feel nice?" he whispered, lips meeting yours in quick, fond pecks, blue eyes nearly shimmering with how much affection he held for you.

It was more than nice, you thought, but you answered him with a kiss. And as he continued to kiss you back, Xavier edged his hand downwards, slowly, slowly, before the tip of his cock nudged against your entrance—

The contact made you gasp and arch upwards. "Xavi—?!"

"Nnh... Please, angel?" He sighed, nuzzling your nose, massaging your hand. "'M not done with you yet. You can give me more, right?"

You whimpered.

You could feel the sensitivity from your earlier orgasm, unsure if you could truly push yourself for another one. But his cockhead would dip in so... nicely. Xavier was teasing, testing you as he waited for your reply—

And you couldn't resist.

When you gave him a feeble nod, he smiled.

"That's my girl."

The praise made you shiver with delight as he pushed into you slowly, setting an unhurried place, his lips back onto your skin as he nibbled just over your collarbone.

"Ngh... Xavier..." you whined as he slid all the way into you and his teeth grazed your skin, the sting of his bite somewhat foreign, but not unwelcome. "T-tomorrow, we have a..."

"Wear a scarf," he mumbled, barely looking up at you before he shifted to suck on the area next to the mark he'd just made, his intentions with you very clear. In seconds, every roll of his hips against yours, coupled with the way he would bruise at your skin and leave visible evidence of your activities, had you throwing your head back with a moan.

"Mmf—fuck, Xavi," you gripped his body tightly against yours, feeling the way his cock would stretch your walls so perfectly.

"Mh? 'S it good?"

He angled his thrust right against the spongey spot in your walls, and you gasped, feeling the way he would smile against your neck.

It was clear affirmation for him, if your moans of his name didn't already give him enough of it—and despite the fact that you had already cum once, he was adamant on getting you to that high once more.

"Feels good for me, too," he groaned as his pace began to pick up, the faint sounds of skin slapping reaching your ears. Each stroke of his length moved with purpose, hitting that same spot over and over and over, your mouth falling open in whimpers and moans of his name.

"Ah— X- Xavier!" You bucked your hips to match his pace, his grip on you getting tighter, his breath hot and heavy against your neck.

Your eyes met, and you keened at the way his hair fell over his face, his eyes searching yours for something you couldn't name. "...You're so beautiful, angel," he breathed, nearly panting, his thrusts becoming quicker and more erratic.

And you could have thrown the words back at him, were you not so lost in your pleasure as you clenched around his cock, gripping his hand tightly in yours.

"C-close— Xavi—!"

You began panting, your vision hazy, as he rut his hips into yours.

"Mhm— almost there— angel— fuck—"

One final thrust had him collapsing onto your body, pulling your own release out of you as he spilled inside, his cock twitching within your walls as he came.

"Xavier..." you whined, reaching to wrap your arms around him, almost cradling him as he groaned into your skin. "Xavier, I..."

He hushed you with a sloppy kiss, and you could feel the way a significant amount of energy had seeped from his body as he gave you a tiny little smile.

"I love you too, angel," he mumbled, before he was sliding down your body once more, your eyes widening when he settled between your thighs yet again.

"H-huh? What are you—ah—!"

You shuddered and gasped at the contact of his tongue back on your folds, still sensitive as you pushed his cum out of you. But yet his eyes remained on yours, and he stuck out his tongue out to continue lapping at the mess he'd made in your cunt.

"Xavier!" you cried. "P-please, no more...!"

He shook his head slightly. "Shh, angel. Don't worry, relax. Just let me clean you up," he mumbled, taking a dollop of your fluids into his mouth, and then swallowing as you watched, your face flushing red.

There was a small, almost cheeky smile lifting the corners of his mouth when he raised his head slightly.

"It's better than candy."

⁺₊ / an: took a break from requests to get this up before we all get "unique aftertaste", bc this was mildly inspired by the trailer! <3 xavi with food play has been on my mind a lot, if it wasn't obvious yet...

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[thatsdemko]

without you there’s nothing to live for - l.norris

masterlist

pairings: lando norris x fem!reader

warnings: jealousy + insecurities + fluff + build up(kinda long I’m sorry about that) + some errors here or there

a/n: while I had bits and pieces of this work in millions of other lando drafts I think I have to give credit where it’s due to @userlando and her anons ☺️🫶 I’m in such a shit mood so i figured posting this might make me feel better. enjoy xx

Lando Norris was annoying. a childhood friend of yours that somehow stuck throughout the years and never seemed to vanish. he was like a a piece of gum stuck to your shoe, he just never left.

and while you’re thankful he’s the longest lasting friendship you have; did you fail to mention he could be annoying?

his hands drum against the kitchen island, a distraction worthy of you flicking your pencil in his direction, but he’s too quick the pencil would just end up behind him, so you result in throwing him a very pointed look that shuts him up.

“is that pencil up your ass too today?”

you give him another look before staring down at the empty grocery list you failed to create, because lando has claimed your flat as his flat. the lavish lifestyle penthouse was abandoned at the instant call of your arrival to Monaco, and now all of his expensive taste clutters your space.

“did you put eggs on the list? I need eggs. it’s good protein—“ he shuts up to the sound of you breaking the pencil in half, another annoyed look tossed his way.

lando could be a lot. but there was no one who could keep up with you. there was no one like him in your corner, and while he pushed your buttons you were eternally grateful for his loyalty despite your rather jaded friendship.

“let’s just go to the store? I’ll drive.” he says like there’s another alternative to the store. ever since he got his license and moved in, you’ve never even put your foot on the accelerator. you’ve almost forgot the thrilling feeling of driving.

“eggs have been added to the list.” you finally say, typing up your notes of a grocery list once you were finally able to think straight without lando tapping away or chatting your ear off.

god was he annoying, but you loved him for him.

—

his wallet funds are bigger than what you have. you feel guilty every time he buys, but it’s not like you have the funds to do so. he knows that guilty look across your face when he ends up paying for 10% groceries and 90% female hygiene products. he doesn’t mind, just shoves his card in the machine and says a thank you for the person who bags your things.

“you have to let me pay you back—“

“no, nonsense.” he cuts you off, the conversation goes like it always does. you beg, and beg, to try and wiggle in a payback, but he refuses. all those years of your parents giving him shelter, taking him to races, or letting him play in your backyard it’s the least he could do.

“but the price adds up, and you’re paying for most of the rent—“

“I won’t have this conversation with you. just get in the car.” he says it without letting you have another word in. it’s his turn to shoot you down with pointed looks every time you try to mention money.

“y/n?! is that you?”

lando’s heart nearly drops to his stomach at the sound of that voice—that voice, being your ex boyfriend. he came out of nowhere, like the stalker he is, and finds himself walking around lando’s spiffy mclaren with wide eyes and confusion at your presence with the formula one driver. he must’ve forgotten lando was your best friend.

“you going to introduce me to your new boyfriend?”

before you can protest lando shakes his hand. you can tell by the grip lando has on him it’s a firm hard handshake. one to prove a point about the 2 a.m calls of you crying to your best friend from across the world. he was a shitty man, and maybe showing lando off like that would put him in his place.

“this is lando, you guys met awhile back.” you say.

you watch the two of their eyes glimmer in the sunlight with hatred for one another. lando was the guy you told him not to worry about— and he still was— and he was the guy lando was desperately wanting to kick ass.

“don’t remember that.”

“I actually remember, didn’t you spend half the night snogging another girl?” lando’s gentle reminder makes your ex’s face flush pale. you watch a little smile lift to lando’s lips before you both excuse yourselves to head home.

“my new boyfriend is so cool.” you say in a sarcastic tone once it’s just the two of you in his car.

lando let’s out laugh, and just puts the car in reverse. the simple act makes your head spin. his hand reaching behind the head of your seat, the way his eyes quickly glance on you before he looks back to ensure no one is coming. these thoughts were never present until this run in. would lando be a good boyfriend?

you can’t help but explore those thoughts in the twenty minute car ride home in pure silence.

your mind wanders to the idea of waking up to him in your bed. his legs tangled with yours, lazy soft kisses pressed your cheeks. you could melt at just the thought of it.

or maybe he’d make you eggs. you’d wake to the smell of bacon grease and him shirtless—like he always is in the kitchen— creating a masterpiece meal that you devour in minutes.

what switch has suddenly changed in you? because now when you look at lando, your heart does things it never did before. your head spins of ideas of him as your boyfriend and it’s so sickening you could throw up.

“I’m going to unload the groceries, you’re more than welcome to sit and stare into space for as much as you need.” his words spook you. a little yelp escaped your lips that he’d caught you. your eyes bug wide—like they always are when you get into your daydreams— and mind so full you lose track of time and often forget your surroundings. you had no clue you’d been sitting in the driveway this whole time.

“where do you want the tampons again? I seem to forget.”

“under the bathroom sink please.”

you wonder if you can shove your thoughts under there too. a nap is needed to clear your mind of whatever seems to be boggling it all about lando.

—

a nap certainly did help, however, waking up to lando shirtless in your bed also napping? yeah, all that hard work of suppressed thoughts came right back.

you think about taking your finger and running it all over the divots, curves, and muscles of his body. you think about how much stronger he’s been looking lately and how the little hair on his chin is growing onto you. what is going on with you?

it was common for lando to come in your room and sleep with you. nightmares were rare for you, but they happened more often than you expected and lando always wanted to be there for it. but this was just a nap? why did he have to come in and sleep with you? he could’ve just slept in his own bed, that certainly would’ve helped your heart if he did.

you roll out of bed and tip toe around your bed, until your heart makes you stop. you stare at his peaceful state. the way his curls fall over his forehead, the thick long lashes you desperately want, the soft smile on his lips— his eyes are opening, shit, you think to yourself.

you quickly book it out of the room to save yourself from the embarrassment of him catching you watching him sleep. what a creep you were becoming in the matter of hours. this is why you shouldn’t like your best friend. hell, this is why you shouldn’t let your man best friend live with you. it was destined for one of you to fall in love.

but it was also destined for you to most likely get your heart broken.

lando doesn’t date women like you. you’ve seen his roster of women rotating in and out of your place, none of them looked like you: an average woman with average looks. who’d want that?

a little part of hope lingers in your chest when you see him enter the kitchen. his lips press against your temple as he mumbles a good morning.

“how was your nap?”

“not long enough.” you admit watching him type away on his phone. his elbows are pressed against the granite counter tops, his fingers work vigorously against the screen. a little smile appears on his lips that make you nauseous. it could just be max, but it could be another girl.

almost two hours ago this wouldn’t of mattered to you. you wouldn’t of cared if lando invited a girl over and you stayed locked up in your room, but now all of a sudden it’s bothersome.

“what’s got you all smiley?” you ask, partially out of curiosity but partially to just kill your heart with his response. he sets his phone face down on the counter resting his chin in the palm of his hand, “max is coming over, and so is pietra.”

“exciting.” you grin, though the words disagree with your expression making his face drop with worry.

“are you worried max is going to take your best friend spot? he could never, y/n.”

best friend. yeah, that’s all you’ll ever be when girls like ria and pietra exist. deadly beauty that could put a man in his place. when was yours ever going to show up?

—

you’re tipsy off the expensive bottle of wine max brought. your body is pressed against lando’s for support as you all laugh about something max said. you can’t help but wrap your arms around his strong bicep, resting your head against his shoulder listening to pietra expose Max’s recent mess up.

lando doesn’t take notice in the way you’re seated. he knows you’re beside him based off the heat that radiates off your body. you always got overly warm when drunk, and sometimes a bit too affectionate, but he didn’t mind. he actually loved it when you wanted to be beside him.

“so when did this happen?” pietra points her finger between you two, a bright smile pressed against her lips as she cozies herself up to her own boyfriend.

lando clears his throat. he practically yanks his arm out of your grip leaving you to fall back against the cushions beside him. you hide your face into his back out of embarrassment suddenly becoming aware of how you two look. “oh umm—“

“oh gosh! I’m so sorry. I think it’s the wine talking in me.” she quickly apologizes, a blush filters her face similar to yours.

“it’s not the first time today that’s happened.”

“do tell,” max sits on the edge of his seat listening to lando explain the run in, your face is still pressed into his back. you’re hoping that maybe if you just stay there you would disappear into thin air or end up in your bedroom sound asleep away from all of this.

“I still want to kick that guys ass—“

“wait,” pietra cuts off max, her voice demands all the attention in the room. you pry your head from out of lando and peer behind him at her, “you didn’t even tell him you are just friends? you let him assume that you’re dating?”

lando’s mouth opens and closes. nothing seems to come out making max throw his head back in a laughing fit, “oh god! I owe ria money for this, you like y/n!”

Lando’s face is flushed red, a similar color to the glass of wine in his hands. there was nothing he could say. he couldn’t even protest it when it was true. he hadn’t even realized he never corrected your ex boyfriend, because truth be told, he wanted to be shown off as your boyfriend.

“come on pietra, let’s leave these two alone.”

they leave as quick as they came, leaving only the half full bottle of wine for yourselves. you both sit in silence, no one musters up the courage to speak.

you both get ready for bed like nothing happened. the awkward silence eats you up. you want to speak up and tell him you feel the same, you want things to go back to normal. you just want annoying lando back.

when you finally finish your nighttime regiment, you’re ready for bed. you turn the corner into your bedroom and see the silhouette of lando reflecting against the wall. your night light was on, and he was laying in your bed, cozied up under the covers.

“sleeping in here tonight?” you ask slipping under the covers beside him, he moves himself closer to you occupying the middle of the bed.

“you don’t mind, do you?”

you shake your head curling your body against his, “I like it when you sleep with me.” you say making a sense of pride soar through his chest. he likes the way your body molds against his.

“your new boyfriend will protect you.” he smiles down at you, carefully place a kiss to your forehead before reaching over and turning off your lamp.

“thank goodness he’s here, I can’t sleep without him.”

“you know I’m talking about myself right?” he lifts his neck up, face looking down at you, your eyes closed practically half asleep already.

“goodnight, boyfriend.”

“goodnight, girlfriend.”

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[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + nineteen

authors note: this one has....some surprising twists and connections. that's for sure....

cw/tw: angst, fluff, and characters using dark humor to discuss mental health

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist + story playlist + taglist request form

words: 8k

Roman’s never been the type to really push things off. Not important things, at least. And seldom in his life has his to-do list ever really consisted of non-essentials. There’s always something to be done, a task to be handled, body or bodies to drop. 

But always at the top of the non-essential list has been his appointments with Dr. Michaels. They’ve always been more annoying than anything, annual routine check-ups that are required with his role as the Tribal Chief. To make sure he’s healthy and equipped for the job. Appointments the Elders are sure to stay on top of, which is also a large reason he hates them.

The Elders tried so hard at the beginning to stop and prevent him from taking his rightful place at the Head of the Table once he turned 18. Questioning his readiness, his eligibility (largely to him being afakasi), and even more, his capability. 

To be honest, it’s a major reason as to why Roman will never really respect them. For men who are supposed to uphold tradition, they seemed to throw that out the fucking window and jump through every available hoop to prevent him from fulfilling his father’s role. To stop a generational dynasty. 

It’s largely why Roman was so focused and dedicated at the beginning of his reign to prove them wrong. To prove them all wrong. 

Something he continues and will always do.

A knock on the door is followed up with the entrance of the man Roman could go the rest of his life without seeing. “Well, congratulations.” Roman maintains his bored expression, mentally going over the next items of his to-do list rather than entertaining his doctor. “You have the sperm count of a man in his twenties.”

That’s another annoying thing. The yearly tests to continue to monitor his ability to reproduce. Something he, like most things in life, passes with flying colors. 

“I’m sure the Elders will be thrilled to hear that.” Probably. Not that Roman gives a flying fuck. “What I’m not pleased with is your blood pressure.” Roman is slightly more present and engaged in the conversation at that. “Your numbers came back even higher this time, Roman. And while you’re not in the danger zone just yet, you keep this shit up of not taking this seriously, you will be.”

Yeah, the attention is fully present and focused now. Roman maintains a leveled voice while asking, “what the hell does that mean?”

Dr. Michaels sighs heavily, moving to sit on his stool, explaining carefully. “You have hypertension. It’s chronic, so it’s not going to go away by avoiding it. You have to take your medication as prescribed. That’s the only thing that will keep it managed.”

Roman looks away, rolling his shoulders. “It’s not that I don’t fucking take it.” And that’s the truth. When Roman remembers, he does. Or when he actually cares enough to, he’ll pop the pill in his mouth and down it with one of his energy drinks. 

“Every day?” Roman doesn’t bother with a reply, growing irritated at being scolded like he’s a fucking child. “Continue to fuck around with this, and you’re putting yourself at high risk for heart disease or stroke.”

Those two things seem almost impossible, like they shouldn’t even be used in the same sentence or paragraph as him or anything related to him. Roman is in excellent shape, works out at least twice a day, eats relatively well, doesn’t smoke or do drugs. Rarely drinks. All the good shit. 

All the healthy shit most medical providers recommend. Isn’t that enough?

It’s like the old man has uninvited access to Roman’s thought process, adding, “Hypertension is hereditary. Your dad had it. Your uncle had it. So, it only makes sense, especially with who you are and what you do, that you got it as well.” Jaw clenching, Roman refuses to comment on that. Refuses to discuss anything regarding his family. “You were technically in the prehypertension stage before, hence why I put you on meds to keep it from progressing. But, now you’re in the stage one hypertension range. Do you really wanna know and see what stage two would look like?”

Thankfully, Shawn doesn’t wait for a reply, continuing his long ass spiel. “You take such good care of yourself physically, but this one thing seems to be an issue for you?” When Roman still says nothing or even makes eye contact, Dr. Michaels goes for a different angle. “If you’re not going to do it for you, at least do it for that wife of yours.” That is when Roman’s sharp gaze lands back on his doctor. “She was a nervous wreck that night you were shot. Imagine what something happening to you that was avoidable would do to her.”

Damn him. 

For all intents and purposes, Roman does an excellent job at hiding the fact that Dr. Michaels found it. Found the thing that truly catches Roman’s attention. Solana always worries so much about him, especially this high blood pressure shit. He doesn’t even want to think about how she would react if she knew his numbers had gotten worse, that he’d slacked off a bunch on medication adherence since she’s been gone, since everything went down. 

She’d freak the fuck out, be an emotional mess, and it’d be all because of him.

Roman can’t have that. 

He won’t.

With a newfound purpose and reason to actually switch this topic from irrelevant to relevant, he relents, “fine. I’ll take the damn medication.”

“As prescribed?”

Smiling without an ounce of humor, Roman nods, reminding himself that it’s probably not a good idea to kill the doctor he’s had since he was 14. Michaels can be annoying, but he’s effective and hasn’t been a problem for the Tribal Chief. For the most part, at least. “Yes.”

Dr. Michaels chuckles. “Thank you.” He then stands up, looking down at his tablet and starts tapping around. “Unfortunately, because your numbers have jumped as much as they have, I need to up your dosage. I’ll send the script over to the pharmacy and make sure they have it filled today so you can pick it up today. Start tomorrow morning. Not next week. Or next year. Tomorrow. Alright?”

Not bothering to reply, Michaels walks over to him, smile almost sympathetic. “Good seeing you, big guy.” Roman scowls with borderline disgust at the light pat on his shoulder. “I’ll follow up with you in a month.”

Roman’s irritation spikes again. “A month? Why so soon?”

Hand on the door, Dr. Michaels shrugs and explains. “Gotta start monitoring your numbers more closely now.” He smirks a bit, taunting almost. “See if you’re as good at following directions as you are at giving them.” 

It’s when the door closes that Roman releases the heavy sigh. Always fucking something. Yet another thing added to his list. 

Of course. 

Roman stays annoyed, even as he’s escorted back into his office, the only thing keeping him from being completely vexed is the reminder that pops up on his phone. 

Visit with Sol

He’s scheduled to drive down to the treatment facility and spend the evening with Solana this evening. Something he’d never openly acknowledge to anyone other than her that he’s been looking forward to all week. 

Today marks two weeks since she transferred to residential treatment, and despite much more lax policies regarding personal items and even visitation, this will only be his second time seeing her.

And not because he hasn’t wanted to. 

No. Solana herself requested they stick to visits once a week versus more. Citing she wants to do this “on her own” as much as possible. The initial wording concerned him. He never wants her to feel like she’s alone in anything, but her follow up explanation provided him clarity on just what she meant. 

“You believe in and support me” A light shrug of her shoulders and gentle gleam in her pretty brown eyes as she adds with a determined nod. “I have to believe in and support me too.”

He checks in on her throughout the week, of course. And she keeps him updated on things like her individual and group therapy, even sharing photos of art she creates during down time. It helps that she’s allowed her phone this time around. Not that it would have made a difference if she wasn’t. There’s no way in hell he would allow her to be that far away without a way to directly communicate with him. Sure, Bautista is there, but still. 

Not enough.

But, it’s as Roman walks back into his office, any excitement at the thoughts of seeing his wife in person, being able to hold her and kiss her is dashed away. 

Replaced with well-hidden shock and irritation.

“What the fuck are you doing here?

There are two people in his office. Two uninvited people. One sits in his chair at his desk. The other sits on the edge of his desk. He recognizes one of them, but not the other. It takes a second for that recognition to dawn. It’s been years since he last saw him. He looks older, obviously, but outside of that, not much has changed.

Including his disrespectful ass disposition. 

A broad smile appears on the bearded face of the man who just doesn’t know today is the absolute wrong day to try to surprise Roman. To surprise a man who hates surprises in the first damn place. 

“Good to see you too, capo.”

There is nothing good about this. Roman already has seven million other things on his plate. He doesn’t need anything else thrown at him.

Especially this.

“Why are you here?” If there was anyone to come and pop up from the Cosa Nostra, he would have bet any money it would be Dwayne. And that would be a much better option than the bastard before him.

The woman on the desk chuckles. Roman can at least acknowledge her beauty. Breathtaking. Her features are almost too perfect to be real, her deep complexion free of any markings. A fine woman. Not Solana. Not in the slightest but still beautiful. She looks over at her co-intruder and speaks in Italian. “While the resemblance, physically, is undeniable. Personality wise is where it stops. Thank God. His bedside manners leave a lot to be desired.”

If she wasn’t a woman, Roman would have her laid out by now. To speak ill of him is one thing, but to do it in front of him is entirely different. Truth be told, if he wasn't already having a shitty day, a small part of him might be impressed at her balls. But, it’s not a good day. Far from it, so now he has to push back thoughts of murder.

Glare focused on her, he switches to Italian. “You have 1 minute to get the fuck out of my office, or else the only way you’ll be leaving is in a body bag.”

“Careful, Roman.” Matteo’s voice is light and surface level calm, but Roman knows better than that. Knows that it’s also a warning. If only he cared. “This is my wife.” 

“What makes you think I give a fuck?” Is Roman’s leveled reply. “I want her gone. Now.” Roman can’t decipher why this man would bring her in the first place. This doesn’t concern her. 

Matteo is smart, whispering something to long legs as she kisses his cheek and plops off the desk. Her smirk pisses him the fuck off as she walks past him, completely unbothered, remaining silent even as the door closes behind her.

Smug ass, prissy bitch. 

Roman doesn’t waste any time jumping back to the topic at hand. “Answer my question. Why are you here?”

Matteo sighs and sits forward, shaking his head. “Some things never change, huh?” Roman is just about to lose his shit at having to repeat himself when Matteo smartens up. “Dwayne sent me.”

Roman eyes him. “What?”

Matteo sighs, shrugging and rolling his shoulders. Roman’s mind quickly travels back to his last conversation with his cousin just a few weeks ago. Outside of the usual asking when he’ll fly out to Italy, he gave no indication that something was wrong. 

And yet Matteo, who Roman hasn’t seen in years, who is second to only Dwayne and lives in Italy full time, sits before him saying he was sent. 

“It’s as Dwayne has been telling you. The Administration grows restless of a leader who lives in a completely different continent.” 

This is nothing Roman hasn’t heard before a million times, but each time, his already limited patience continues to wane. “Is the business not successful?”

That’s an easy answer. “It is.”

Well then. “So why the fuck am I needed there?”

“Because they’ll do and find anything they can to delegitimize your reign.” A sort of frown falls on his face as he adds in a lowered voice. “To create a case.” 

Roman’s gaze narrows, his nose snarling as he catches on to what’s being shared. “They want you to clock me?”

Matteo nods, asking, “you remember our cugino, Luca?” Roman also nods, still trying to settle his anger that these bastards actually have the audacity to want him followed. “Well, he’s not that same scrawny punk anymore. He’s older, stronger, clever. Sadistic. They think he would be better suited to lead.”

It’s not that Roman cares, he’s just trying to get into Matteo’s head, see where his thoughts are. That’s the only reason he asks, “do you?”

Matteo doesn’t appear to think about his answer, which Roman finds a bit surprising. It’s almost as if he’s being honest. “No. Not at all. He doesn’t have the strategic mind to be capo. He leads with his emotions. Is irrational and strong headed. Even more hot headed than you are. He’ll run the business into the ground.”

It’s been years since Roman has spoken or interacted with his cousin, but the description provided seems aligned with everything he’d already pegged. Luca isn’t fit for this role. The weight that comes with being the boss. 

He would most definitely ruin the empire.

“How long are you here for?” 

“Not sure.” Matteo shrugs, running his hand through his hair. “That’s why I brought the wife and kids.”

The wife thing briefly took Roman off guard, but the kids thing especially surprises him. Not that Matteo is even remotely close to being someone he’s close with, it still stuns him a bit. Then again, most men around their age have a family of some sort by this point. So, it really shouldn’t be that much of a shock.

Matteo must catch on to Roman’s expression. “Three of them. Set of twin boys and a girl. Not exactly something I broadcast. Safety reasons and whatnot.” And that, Roman most definitely gets. Matteo looks down, an almost bitter scoff leaving his mouth. “We both know how they feel about us mixed breeds.”

Another thing they can relate on. In more than just the obvious way. Roman’s mother’s racist ass side of the family hated his father being Samoan but ‘accepted’ him, arranged the union solely because of who he was. Because of the Bloodline. But, Matteo’s Turkish father, an essential commoner, never stood a chance.

His mangled, tortured remains that were pulled from the bottom of a lake was an outcome that was always bound to come. 

Roman shakes his head. “And you wonder why the fuck I don’t want to be around any of them?”

Matteo chuckles darkly. “Not at all.” He grabs a paper weight on Roman’s desk and starts tossing it up and down. “You should be lucky it’s me here and not someone else. Dwayne had to fight tooth and nail for them to select me to spy on you. As I’m sure you already know, yet probably don’t care about, there aren’t many on the Administration who are exactly…..fans of yours.”

“And they never will be.” 

Matteo lifts his chin, calmly adding. “Of either of us.”

Silence. 

It’s not uncomfortable. Not comfortable either. Just….silent.

Until Matteo places the paper weight back down and stands up, slowly walking over to Roman. 

“Roman…..” Right away, the Tribal Chief knows he’s not about to like wherever this conversation is going. “I know….I know we’re not close for a lot reasons, but that doesn’t negate the fact that we are brothers—”

Yeah…..as always, he was right. 

He doesn’t like this shit at all. 

“We are nothing,” Roman snaps, practically growling, Matteo managing to tap into such deep rooted insecurities and so carefully tucked away traumas. “Sharing the same mother makes us biological siblings, but it does not make us brothers.” 

For the briefest second, there’s something that flashes in Matteo’s brown eyes. Something akin to hurt. But, it’s quickly pushed away, shoved to the back of the bus. He lifts his head and instead takes a step closer. 

“Whether you believe me or not, Roman. My loyalty is to you. You are the rightful capo. The Capo di tutti capi, and I will fight for and with you to the death.”

Roman says nothing, because he has nothing to say. Nothing he wants to say, at least. The statement lays heavy, joining the other pile of weights that have seemed to settle and make themselves comfortable in his head.

And his heart.

Matteo extends a hand, placing it on Roman’s shoulder, giving an almost comforting squeeze.

“You are mio fratello.” The word being repeated, however, is enough to make the Tribal Chief ready to resort to violence when Matteo, wisely steps back. “As I’m sure you’ve figured, while I’m here, I will need to be present for any and all meetings or discussions regarding the Cosa Nostra.”

Yes, Roman’s not a dumbass. Of course he has to. He needs something to report back to those bitches. It’s just how much of the actual truth will get relayed that he’s unsure about.

Roman continues to stand there, anger and twenty different other emotions boiling as the older man walks toward the door, readying to leave, but not without one final departing statement. 

“See you tomorrow, brother.”

—-------

“Is it true he’s packing an almost 10inch dick?”

Solana nearly chokes on the water she was in the midst of downing at the most unexpected, wild, flabbergasting question she’s almost ever received. 

And her expression of complete and utter shock is shared with the other two women who sit with her. 

Cam is the first to speak though, instantly chiding the other woman, “Mickie!”

“What?” Mickie, however, doesn’t seem to see the issue. Pulling one leg up on the sofa, she shakes the bottle of nail polish and starts applying the pretty lilac color. “Remember my ex-friend Layla? She fucked him one time and said it was the biggest one she ever had. That he could barely fit it in.”

“Mickie, for the love of God, shut up.” Melina cuts in, her voice less shocked and more irritated. She motions to Solana with her free hand, the other one in Solana’s lap as she designs the butterflies for her. “That’s her husband.”

“Well, she has to know he’s a hoe. Or used to be?” 

Cameron shakes her head, finishing up her own nail polish application to her short nails. “Seriously, Mickie, you’re out of line.” 

“It’s okay.” Solana finally decides to make her two cents known as she caps the bottle and places it back on the sofa beside her. “I—I know he….he had a reputation.” That seems like the nicest way to say it, the nicest way to acknowledge that her husband has probably slept with more women than she’d like to ever know. 

“That wasn’t an answer tho—ow!” Mickie winces when Melina punches her in the arm. “Bitch.”

Melina just chuckles, focus back on Solana as she jokes. “You see why we’re all here?”

It makes Solana smile.

To anyone else, the scene would be quite difficult to fully understand. Four young women chatting and joking amongst each other like they’re not all currently admitted and receiving treatment at a residential facility for women. They should be sad, moping, disconnected, unstable. And they have been all of those things, hence their current placement.

But, they’re also so much more than that. They’re human beings who hurt and feel like everyone else. They’ve just been hurt a lot more than some other people and have not responded or processed or even healed just yet. 

Emphasis on yet. Another thing Solana has picked up in therapy. 

“Did you guys do your assignment for Lilian?” Solana asks, partially wanting to redirect the focus from off herself and Roman’s…..anatomy, but also genuinely curious about their experiences completing the homework provided in group therapy.

Cam is the first to answer, shaking her head. “Yeah. It was…..not the best time.”

“Agreed,” Mickie chimes, shrugging her shoulders. “I mean, I tried to not be too depressing but ….considering I’ve tried to, as the kids say, unalive myself three times now, there wasn’t a lot to go off of.”

Solana winces. This is something she’s still getting a bit used to, if she ever fully will. How sometimes dark humor is so easily weaved into conversations. She’s seen and realized it’s a type of coping mechanism, but it’s still a bit difficult, nonetheless. 

The assignment being discussed consisted of the ladies being tasked with coming up with at least 10 chapter titles to represent their lives. Five from the past and five for the future they hope to have. Solana can agree that the ones for the past were a bit challenging and definitely sad, but her future ones managed to feed that hope she’s determined to not lose this time around.

“I kind of cheated and used song titles for some of them,” Melina admits with a chuckle.

“I used songs for all of them,” Cam counters with a small, sly smile. Of the three women, Solana seems to relate closely to her. They’re the same age and have the same quiet disposition that’s only shed away ever so slightly once they become more comfortable.

Which, clearly, has already started to happen.

“Have ya’ll ever heard Mama’s Hand by Queen Naija?” Almost everyone says no or shakes their head to signify no being their answer. Melina goes on to explain, “it’s this really pretty song she wrote about her son. I used some of the lyrics for my titles for my son.”

Solana, who was just about to switch to a different skin marker to start on the next butterfly, pauses. “You have a son?”

Yes, they’ve all grown rather close over the past few weeks, starting with their simultaneous hospital stays to where they all now room only doors down from each other in residential treatment. However, Melina having a child is news to Solana.

She nods and pulls the arm back that Solana was drawing on to reach in her back pocket, pulling out a folded photo. Considering Melina only reaches it to her, Solana takes a guess that Mickie and Cam already knew. Makes sense.

A smile naturally falls on her face at the sight of the curly haired little boy playing in the sand. 

Melina also smiles, though hers is clearly weighed down with sadness. “I took that just two months ago. We went to Isla Mujeres to go visit Santos aunt. She lives down there.” 

“He’s beautiful, Melina. What’s his name?” The mention of the island also captures Solana’s attention. “Roman and I were just there not too long ago, actually. He took me for my birthday.”

“Santos. Go figure.” She rolls her eyes, as Solana giggles. She thinks it’s actually cute he was named after his father. “And really? It’s so beautiful.”

Breathtaking. “It is.”

“Thank you.” Melina’s smile deepens as she takes the photo and tucks it back into her pocket. “We had a good time there. It almost feels too nice to be unreal, huh?”

Solana nods. “My mom used to tell me about it all the time, which is why Roman took us. He bought us a house there, so we can go back and visit.”

“Damn, what’s it like being married to someone so rich?” Mickie almost moans, head thrown back for a second before she gasps. “Could we do like a girls trip there or something? You know, assuming we don’t all get locked up again on grippy sock trips for trying to kill ourselves.” 

Cam rolls her eyes but admits, “outside of the suicide joke, that does sound kind of fun.”

“We can stay at your house,” Mickie suggests to Solana. “If Roman is okay with that, of course.”

Solana thinks about it. Something tells her he wouldn’t protest. Not if she really wanted it. He’d probably stay somewhere else, not wanting to be around a bunch of women, but she can’t see him saying no. Matter of fact, it kind of aligns with the idea she had brought up to Roman before the incident. An idea of a girls trip with Naomi and Bayley, who she still needs to talk to actually. 

She hasn’t interacted with them since that night. And not for any reason other than wanting to make sure she’s emotionally ready for that, no doubt, heavy ass conversation.

There will definitely be a lot of tears.

“I could talk to him,” she finally answers, looking over at Melina. And she will. It could actually be really nice having all of her now friends together for a nice getaway trip. “You should bring your son too.” 

Melina looks surprised by this. “Really?” She then looks down, chuckling sadly. “That’s if Santos trusts me enough.”

Given that their rooms are right next to each other, both here and at the hospital, Solana has found herself talking with and to Melina more than Mickie and even Cam. Melina is also Mexican, fluent in Spanish, which allows them to sometimes converse in the language only the two of them understand. But, in some of those conversations, they’ve gotten deep, which is why she’s slightly surprised this is the first time she’s hearing about a child.

Melina had disclosed a lot of her relationship with Santos Escobar. How they’ve known each since they were kids, shared some of their best and worst moments with each other, how he’s loved her through it all. 

Solana can still remember the heartbreaking look in her teary eyes as she shared, ‘he just wants me to love myself as much as he loves me’. And Solana related to that so deeply. It made her think of Roman and how he could never love her back most likely but how the way he cares about her and takes care of her probably feels just as good.

She knows what it’s like to be with someone who thinks the world of you when you can barely find reasons to justify as to why you even exist. 

They relate a lot in that regard. 

It’s why Solana reaches a comforting hand and places it over Melina’s hand, voice soft but sure. “You’re gonna get better, Melina.” She looks over to Cam and Mickie. “We all are.”

There’s a comfortable silence among the group that is welcomed and moving. A silent agreement between women who were once strangers and now friends. Sisters, even.

Mickie caps the bottle of nail polish and carefully places her foot back on the ground while reaching for Solana’s water bottle, lifting it up as if giving a toast. “To mental stability and finding rich men with big dicks to spend the rest of our lives with!”

“Mickie!”

—-----------

“You’re quiet tonight.”

Solana’s soft voice manages to snatch Roman away from that sunken place in his head where he’s sat deep in his thoughts for a variety of reasons, largely all due to the unexpected things that have been thrown at him.

He’d tried his best to put all of that into his visit to Asylum where he continues to extract his gruesome vengeance against her family and rapists. And it did help. A little, but clearly not enough where he’s able to hide the fact that he has a lot on his mind. 

“Come here.” Roman motions her over from where he sits propped up in the middle of her bed and she stands at the edge of the bed, notebook in hand. He watches the almost nervous way she places the book down on the bed and climbs over to him, Roman helping her straddle him. Kissing her exposed shoulder, he murmurs an apology into her soft skin. “I’m sorry.”

His eyes shut when she moves her hand to his hair, fingers almost massaging his scalp. “You want—do you want to talk about it?”

He can’t help but chuckle. The irony. “Isn’t that a bit counterproductive?”

She shakes her head, continuing to provide him soothing relief like nothing else can. “No. I—I told you before, you can talk to me too.”

It’s strange. If the situation was different, if he wasn’t still cautious regarding her mental health and the state of it, he might….he might take her up on it.

The Matteo situation though…..it’s complicated and layered and messy, and she doesn’t need any of that.

“I know.” Roman moves his hands to her hips. “But, I’m fine. Just a long ass day.”

Her eyes light with something. “Wasn’t your appointment today?” Shit. “How did it go? How’s your shoulder? What did he say about your blood pressure?”

Roman hates lying to Solana. He really does. She’s probably the only person in his life he’d prefer to not keep secrets from. She doesn’t deserve that. She’s been through more than enough shit to not deserve it.

But this…..he has to lie. 

Roman can’t think of one good thing that’ll come from telling her the truth. Solana seems to be doing well at this place, gradually improving day by day. Laying this on her will only hinder that progress and make her freak the fuck out. He doesn’t want that for her. 

He refuses to contribute to any type of regression.

Thus leaving him with only one option.

“It was fine, Sol.” To lie. “Shoulder’s practically healed. Numbers were fine. I’m good.”

That last part isn’t a lie, because Roman is determined this time around to actually do what Michaels said. To take his medication as he’s supposed to. 

For Solana.

He owes her that much.

She sighs, clearly and visibly relieved. “Good.” Roman feels like shit lying to her, but it’s for her own good. “C–can I show you something then?”

“You can show me anything, Sol.” Anything to take them off this damn topic is more than welcomed. 

He’s also reassured by the relieved smile on her face as she reaches back for her notebook, opening it, clearly looking for a certain page while talking. “One of the things I’ve been working on in therapy is goals. Like….setting goals for myself that are attainable and doable.”

“Okay.” Roman doesn't really know where she’s going, but right off the bat, whatever she needs might as well already be done. He’ll make it happen. 

“I…..” She trails off, biting down on her bottom lip, most likely trying to figure out how to say it. “I made a list of things I want to do when I get home. Some….some sooner, and some later.” Handing him the notebook, he starts reading off her neat handwriting, slightly taken back by the first thing on the list. 

Get back into training 

“Solana…..”

Roman is not opposed to Solana continuing to train. He thinks she should. Believes it’s been good for her. He just doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that it’s the number one thing on her list. Her mental strength, in his mind, should be the priority. 

She must detect and pick up on his hesitancy, eyes traveling to meet his. “He tried to take my life, Roman.” She cuts him off, her voice much lower and quieter than before. “In….in more than one way.” Roman can tell there’s another story there, but he won’t push it. Just keep it in mind the next time he’s hacking into her piece of shit father’s body. “He told me that because—because he wanted to break me, but I won’t—” She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. “He didn’t. I’m not going to let him take away all the progress I’ve made. I know I—I regressed, but I am going to get better. I am better.” 

He respects that. Respects her so immensely. It hasn’t been the easiest thing for Roman to see her go up and down as much as she has over the past month. She’s had her highs and her lows, the lows being so much heavier than most people’s. 

And that’s just been for him. He can’t imagine how it’s been for her having to actually deal with all these things.

So, while a part of him wants her to just focus on her mental health, if she truly believes getting back into training will help aid that. He’ll support it. 

“Okay.”

She smiles, adding on, “did you—did you find a man for me to train with?” He did. In fact. He just hadn’t thought she’d want to jump right back into that either. “Also, I—I wanna learn how you do that thing you do.”

It’s the way she words it, the almost nervousness in her voice that makes him smile a bit. “Thing?”

She nods, shifting a bit on top of him. “You did it at WarGames. When you like…..ram into people. You knocked out whoever that was unconscious with one hit.”

It’s the added sentence that makes him realize what she’s referring to. “A spear?” And Solana nodding only widens his smile. Her innocence at the whole thing is adorable. “Baby, who you trying to spear?”

She shrugs, pushing some of hair back, cheeks reddening. “I don’t know. It just….it just seems effective.”

“It is.” When done correctly and done with proper training. It’d take her a while to get there, but if it’s what she wants, he’ll support it. “If you really want to learn though, I’ll teach you.”

Her smile is genuine and appreciative. Roman stealing a second to take it in, take in her happiness in this moment before moving onto the next one.

Host welcome home party 

At this second goal, Roman frowns, emitting a giggle from Solana. He looks up at her, clarifying, “does this mean you want people at the house?”

She playfully rolls her eyes. “Yes, Ro, I do.”

It was going so well. Training. He could get with. A bunch of people at his house though? Hell no. “Who exactly do you want to invite?”

“Jimmy, Jey, Naomi, Bayley, Melina—”

“Who the hell is Melina?” So far, there’s not a person listed that he’s in agreement with. “Baby, you know I hate people—”

“I know, but…..” She moves her hand to the bottom of his shirt, crumpling it while trying to plead her case. “They’re our friends….our….our family, and that….that means a lot to me.” Fuck. She’s too good at that shit. Tugging at his heartstrings. “Gail has been teaching me a lot about trauma and how it works. How connection is the way to heal. And that….that makes sense because you have been the biggest part of my healing, my connection with you, my—my love for you.”

Roman closes his eyes. Of course. Of course she would drop that word on him. The love word. The word that he can never voice to her and about her but feels with everything in him.

Taking in her heartfelt words, he nods, slowly. “Okay. Just…tell me when you want to do it and what you need. We’ll make it happen.” Thinking about something else, something important, he stipulates. “Jey’s not bringing them bad ass kids though. Or Nicki.” 

Solana rolls her eyes again. “Ro…..”

“Solana, I’m not about to have those failed Plan B’s destroy our house. And Nicki is a fucking arsonist. She’ll burn the place down.”

His wife pouting almost as she crosses her arms would make Roman chuckle if not for the fact he’s thinking about the last time Jey brought all his mistakes over to the property. Those little assholes caused over $50,000 in damages. Sure, it was of no financial consequence to him, but it was annoying as fuck to have to have people in his house doing the repairs. 

But, of course, his sweet saint of a wife lives up to her reputation. “Roman, that’s mean. They’re just….they’re just kids.”

“No, they’re vermin.” And he means that with everything in him. But, the minute Solana leans over and lays her head on his shoulder, a soft, desperate ‘please?’ leaving her mouth, it’s a wrap.

Damn her persuasiveness.

Or maybe it’s just his lack of resolve that seems to disappear when it comes to her.

Sighing against her, he mutters, “you know I can’t say no to you.”

Solana giggles, hugging and kissing him on his cheek. Meanwhile, Roman makes a mental note to have a shit ton of them kid leashes and fire hydrants ordered ASAP. 

Roman grunts as Solana murmurs a ‘thank you,’ and he moves onto the next one.

Get tattoos

This shifts the conversation a bit as he asks, “really?”

Nodding, she gestures to her inner right forearm where the colorful butterflies remain. Something she seems determined and focused to keep up. “I want to get the Hummingbird. For my mom.” She ghosts her fingers over her truly impressive artwork. “Butterflies. And….a semicolon.” Roman is grateful when she explains the last one on her own volition. “It’s….it’s for people who’ve survived depression and trauma and….and suicide.” She swallows, adding. “Something comes after a semicolon just like something comes after our darkness.” And before Roman can even comment on that, voice his agreement, she continues. “I want a lotus too. That’s for….for sexual assault.” 

She doesn’t say anything beyond that, and he doesn’t push it. Just brings her hand to his mouth, kissing her palm. “Just tell me when.” He’ll reach out to his tattoo artist and get her scheduled the same day if that’s what she wants. Whatever she needs. 

Solana smiles, licking her lips. “I—I want one for you too. I just—haven’t figured out what exactly.” 

She’s just full of surprises tonight. He understands all of the desired tattoos that she’s listed thus far. They all have such deep, profound meanings, so for him to be included in that list feels almost wrong. For her to want to put something permanent on her body for him seems wrong. “Solana, you don’t—”

“But, I want to.” 

He doesn’t know how to feel about that. Everything else she described was fine and made sense, but this one is a struggle for him. Regardless, he doesn’t push it further. Doesn’t question her.

He just continues to read through the list, the rest, for the most part, presenting no major issue. Things like continuing to work on her confidence, going back to Isla Mujeres, taking up pole dancing (he definitely wants the backstory on that as well as see if it can be moved up the list), moving all of her journals and books into the home library, etc.

However, Roman is a bit confused when he reaches the last numbered item that’s written in Spanish. She knows he doesn’t speak or understand practically any of it.

10) un bebe o una bebe

His confusion is evident, and it grows slightly when Solana almost gently takes the notebook from him and carefully places it on the bed beside them. She swallows, eyes focused on him as she moves her arms around his neck. “Roman…..I….”

Seeing her trepidation, he moves his hands to her hips, holding her. “Solana, talk to me.”

The reassurance seems to help, as she nods and blows out a deep breath. “Just…..promise me you’ll think about it before you give me an answer?”

This, however, doesn’t help him much. It only makes his curiosity grow at just what she’s talking about. Still, he won’t deny her request. “Okay.”

She moves even closer, gaze falling down to her lap. “When…..when I get better and….and more stable, I—” She lifts her eyes, voice steady and soft. “I want to have a baby, Roman.” Fuck. “I want us to have a baby. I—I want to be a mom.”

Of all the things to come out of her mouth this evening, some more than surprising, this has to take the cake. It’s the last thing he expected to hear her say.

Ever.

“Solana….”

“We have to make an heir anyway. I know….I know you’ve been taking care of that for us, but—but we can’t take forever, and—I’m ready. I know I need to focus on my mental health, and I am. I will, but…..Roman, I really want to have a baby with you.” She adds on, almost desperate and needing him to have all of the information so he can make the best decision. “And I talked to Dr. Stratus. She said all of my medications are safe to take while pregnant. We might have to change something if I decide to breastfeed, but she said that won’t be a huge issue either.”

Well, shit. Roman finds himself asking in a low voice. “You already talked to someone about this?”

She nods, almost nervously. “I just—I needed to know what she and Gail thought. If….if I’m stable enough for it.”

“What they say?”

She looks down, chuckling a bit, eyes watering. “They think I’d be a good mom.”

There’s something almost sad about the way she seems almost surprised by this. Like she didn’t think she’d be good at it until receiving their approval.

When, in actuality, he thinks she’d be the best damn mom a kid could ask for. But, she’d have to be…..with him as the father. 

Roman is not….he’s not built for that life. He doesn’t know or understand the first thing about kids other than they need and deserve all of the things he can’t and doesn’t know how to give. That’s why he’d have to lean so heavily on Solana, on her soft and gentle nature. And how would that be fair? To give her a child that she more or less would have to raise by herself because any overt involvement from him would probably increase the chances of the kid ending as fucked up as Roman is.

“You would, baby.” He finds himself agreeing, voice still low, gentle almost, even in the midst of such self-loathing thoughts. There’s so many things Solana is insecure and self-conscious about still, but this shouldn’t be one of them. “Amazing.”

The way her expression softens so deeply does something to him. “Really?” Her eyes watering is the icing on the cake as she grabs his hand, tracing the lines on his palm. “Y–you really mean that?”

He’s not sure he’s ever meant anything more. “Of course.”

Solana throws another curveball at him with the next soft admission to leave her mouth. “I think you’d be an amazing dad too.”

Fuck.

Keyword of the day it seems. 

Because just what in the hell is he supposed to do with that? How does he tell her that she’s wrong as hell? That someone like him really has no business being anyone’s father. That he’d just fuck up any kid of theirs. That despite recurrent dreams he’s been having about this, about fatherhood, that Roman in the dreams has to be someone else.

Can’t and could never be him. 

He’s good at a lot of things, maybe more than the average person, but that?

No.

Just…..no.

But what difference does all of this make when Solana is right about the fact that he has to have an heir. A child needs to be produced, whether he wants to or not, and this discussion is making him realize that while he’s spent his whole life feeling indifferent to fatherhood, the entrance of Solana, of having her be the mother to his kid, has thrown a wrench into everything. 

He doesn’t know what the fuck to think now. 

So, he expresses as such with as much carefulness as he can.

“I just…..I gotta think, Solana.” About more than just this. About everything. This day has been….a lot, to say the least.

“Of course.” She nods. And if she’s disappointed by his answer, she does a great job at not showing it. Roman welcomes her when she moves her body to lay on top of his, her face pressed against his chest. “I’m here whenever you’re ready to talk.”

It’s a statement that stays with Roman for the rest of his visit, oscillates in the back of his head as he sits in the middle of the SUV while being driven home.

Everything feels like it’s all been happening at once, almost too fast, like the speed is something he’s somehow unable to keep up with. Newfound territory for the man who’s always prided himself at always being so in control.

But, he’s not. 

He’s not in control of damn near all the things right now, his emotions, namely. And it’s fucking miserable. 

His love for Solana that he can’t act on because he doesn’t know what the fuck that would even mean.

Not being able to help her to the extent she needs and not being there for her when she needed him the most. Not being there to stop her the night she tried to kill herself.

Not telling her the truth about her father and leaving her to find out in the most traumatic way.

Now there’s the matter of his health, his blood pressure that he once thought was insignificant, now a moderate to major issue. 

Couple on the unexpected reintroduction of his mother’s firstborn re-entering his life.

And to top it all off, Solana wants to have a baby.

With him. 

Fucking hell.

It’s not until mentally listing all of these things that Roman becomes aware of a tightness in his chest, a sensation he hasn’t felt in years. Not since….not since his last panic attack.

Fuck.

Realizing what’s about to happen, Roman rolls down the tinted windows and uses the passing, speeding cars as the source of distraction. He picks the color red and starts counting how many he sees, and when that’s not enough, he switches to cars vs SUV’s, mentally listing those off. 

He continues to do that until that dastardly feeling entirely dissipates. But, it’s only when he rolls up the window that he punches the headrest in front of him.

This can’t happen again. Roman has too fucking much on his plate and stands to lose way too much. He can’t experience his own kind of regression. But, that’s exactly what’s happening. The thought of which allows him to acknowledge for the first time, in a long that, that he’s overwhelmed.

Roman feels overwhelmed. 

It’s just too fucking much. His head is cloudy as shit, and he needs to just get away from it all.

Grabbing his phone, he puts Rikishi, Jimmy, and Jey in a group text and types out a message. 

Roman: I’m going to see her this weekend. 

Less than two minutes later, the phone dings with a reply. 

Rikishi: I’ll make the arrangements.

Expecting that answer, he moves to the next part of his messages. 

Roman: Jimmy, I need you and Naomi to keep Dulce for me. I’m gonna put you and Jey down as emergency contacts if something happens with Solana while I’m gone. 

Roman: And if it’s not in regards to my wife, don’t fucking bother me.

Roman switches to his thread with Solana, uninterested in anything else anyone has to say right now. He just needs to communicate with Solana.

He can’t tell her the truth, of course, but he does need her to know he won’t be as readily available. 

She deserves that much.

Roman: A work situation came up, so I have to go out of town this weekend. I’m going to leave Dulce with Jimmy and Naomi. If you need anything, call me, and I’ll come back home.

Roman places his phone on the seat beside him and tilts his head back, running his hand over his face. 

Then his phone goes off.

Solana: Roman….

Solana: I’m okay. You don’t have to do that. I’m safe. I’m….I’m feeling happy again. Just focus on yourself. You have so much on your plate right now. I can tell. I wish you would talk to me, but I get it….

Solana: Just please take care of yourself. Be careful.

Roman reads over her texts at least three times, really honing in on the ‘I wish you would talk to me.”

He’s starting to wish he could too.

He really is.

Solana: I love you. ❤️

Another ding, and he swallows. It’s getting harder and harder to have her be so vulnerable with him and not be able to reciprocate that. It feels cruel to ignore her, to say nothing when she tells and gives him everything.

It’s why after going back and forth in his head for a good two minutes, he eventually says fuck it and sends out a simple but telling reply.

Roman: ❤️

[yelenasdiary]

Surfer!Kate request! Reader goes to the beach after having just moved to the beach city that Kate lives in and they both wipe out in a big wave and Kate goes out of her way to make sure Reader is okay. Flirting and an exchange of numbers on shore occur

Crashing Waves

Pairing: Pro Surfer! Kate Bishop x Fem, Marine Photographer! Reader

Summary: After a knock-out caused by a wave, the woman you crashed with goes out of her way to make sure you’re okay.

Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of Blood | 1.2K

AC: It’s taken me so long to write this, I know but I do apologise, and I hope you enjoy this! x

As if the sight before you had just come out of a magazine, the water was crystal blue reflecting off the blue sky. The weather was perfect, the waves were rolling in one by one as you stood there with your shortboard under your arm and a smile softly tugging at your lips. You had just moved to Dana Point, California after spending three years in Hawaii for work. After two long weeks of unpacking, you were just hanging for a surf. 

Your house overlooked the beauty of the ocean, where you lived, you always aimed to get a house that overlooked the ocean. Falling asleep to the waves crashing on the shoreline was something you’d never get tired of. Now you finally had the time to get used to your new surroundings and get back into the swing of your daily routines. 

The water was slightly cold when it touched your bare skin as you ran into the water before throwing your board in front of your and jumping onto it and paddling out further into the water. You shared the water with other surfers and like an unspoken language, everybody knew to keep space in between one another and only catching a wave when they felt it was safe enough to do so. You liked to wait a few moments before jumping onto the first wave of the day, you loved feeling the water flow between your fingers and watching the talent of others around you.

You turned your board and looked into the distance of the endless blue water, like a sixth sense, you knew the perfect wave was making its way. You began to slowly paddle forward, checking your surroundings to make sure nobody else was aiming for the same wave. The water began to rise, you paddled a little faster before placing your hands below your chest, your palms flat on the board while your fingers curled over the sides of the surfboard gaining a strong grip. 

The wave grew bigger and in one quick motion, you pushed your body up with your arms and tucked your feet up under you before placing one foot where your hands pushed up from and the other at a shoulder width behind you. The thrill of finally catching your first wave of the day felt like it was just you and the ocean. Until you heard a voice call out, “HEADS UP!” The voice called before you were hit with the end of another board and thrown off yours. The wave passed over you as you popped up from under the water and grabbing your board to keep you afloat. 

You felt the spot on your forehead where the strangers board hit you, red stained your fingertips causing you to get back on your board and paddle back to shore.

“I am so, so sorry!” A voice came up behind you as you reached down to grab your towel. “Are you okay?” They added. You turned around and smiled softly at the woman with long dark, wet hair and bright blue eyes and for a moment you had forgotten you were injured.

“Oh shit, I am so sorry, here! Let me help you” her voice snapped you back to reality.

“Don’t stress, it’s just a small cut” you replied, giving her a soft smile. 

“You’re literally bleeding, I am so sorry! I didn’t see you until the last second. Please let me get some ice or something, stay right here, I’ll be back!” She stressed. In all honestly, you were fine, the cut was small. 

“Honestly, it’s fine” you assured her, “it’s just a braze” you added but your words weren’t enough, the woman who looked familiar had already begun rushing over to the nearby ice-cream stand. While you waited for her to return, you racked your brain for where you’d see her familiar face before, but nothing clicked. 

“I got you an ice cream sandwich, just hold it against your head!” She returned, handing you the dessert in its wrapper. “Thank you” you smiled softly before placing the cold sandwich against the braze. 

“Now, how many fingers am I holding up?” The blue eyed woman said while raising 3 fingers in front of you. 

“Three, honestly I am okay” you replied in hopes to assure her of her worries. She smiled softly, “I’m sorry, I feel so bad. I honestly didn’t see you” she went on. 

“It’s okay….” You paused, waiting for her to introduce herself. 

“Kate, Kate Bishop” 

“Kate, it doesn’t even hurt, I promise” you replied. It finally hit you on who she was. “If anything, I am honoured to be wiped out by the Kate Bishop” you added. Kate looked rather surprised that you recognized who she was, as she was still in the early stages of making a name for herself in the pro surf league. “You know who I am?” She asked with a slightly cocked brow. 

“Are you kidding? I watched your comp this year! I wish I could’ve been there in person to watch but I was working so I had to watch it on TV. You were amazing!”

Kate felt her cheeks get slightly warm as her eyes dropped to avoid you seeing her blush. She wasn’t usually one to get giddy but something about you had her interested in wanting to know more about you. “Thank you” she looked up at you with a smile, “I don’t mean this in some creepy way, but I’ve never seen you around here before. Are you just passing through?” She asked. 

“I just moved here” 

“Oh, well, welcome to the Dana Point” Kate smiled once more before her eyes noticed the professional camera bag sitting next to you, “Folks around here are usually pretty nice but like most places, we have some interesting people. You might want to make sure you hide your camera while you’re surfing” she explained. You thought it was sweet that she was looking out for you, even if your camera was an old one and nowhere near as expensive as the ones that were at home. 

“Thank you, I guess I am lucky it’s just an older camera” you smiled thankfully. 

“You uh, you like taking photos?” Kate asked, hoping to keep the conversation between you two going. You nodded lightly, “I’m a marine photographer. While most people carry around their phones, I can’t seem to leave my house without a camera” you replied with a chuckle. 

“That’s really cool, I’d love to see your work sometime, if that would be okay” Kate said, nervously. Little did she know, you could tell that she was a little nervous. “Sure, but first you need to take me out for a thick shake” you replied, jokingly, kinda. Kate froze slightly, “I m-mean, I actually know a place that does really good shakes and smoothies” she offered. 

“Do share this wonderful place, please” 

Kate chuckled, “I guess I’ll have to take your number and take you in the morning, if you’re free” she replied with confidence. You were always hopeless at hiding your blushing cheeks but Kate smiled softly, “I take that as a yes” 

“I need a pen” you replied. 

“Oh, I have a really good memory” Kate assured you. Finally, you placed the melting ice-cream sandwich down and gave the blue-eyed woman your number and hoped to god that she could remember it. 

---

The next day, you just got out of the shower to hear your phone go off. As you opened the text message from the unknown number, a smile tugged at your lips. 

Kate: Good morning! I hope I haven’t woken you. But if you’re awake and thirsty, how about that thick shake?

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[vicocaaisha]

Thrill

Baek Harin x Reader Fic.

Synopsis: You chose thrill over comfortness. You knew she would only bring trouble, but it's her who you really like.

Warning: SMUT, slapping, fingering, mature scenes in general.

CHAPTER ONE // SUJI’S ENDING // LAST CHAPTER

“Get a move on!” You heard your homeroom teacher. Gulping as you see Wooyi walking towards the other left-out students.

You were going to join Wooyi, but they are already completed with five students already. With no choice between Harin and Suji’s group.

Looking at Harin, you saw her rolling her eyes, getting impatient. You clearly know that she wants you in her group; you wondered how that would go.

Fortunately for you, your other classmate beat you to Suji’s group. With no more choice, you walked towards Harin’s group. If looks would kill, you’re probably dead now because of Eun Byol’s stare. Whatever, you just have to keep up with this shit.

Suji seemed tense; you felt so guilty. She’s a nice girl, she probably made you feel like you’re worth the risk. But it seems for you, you love the thrill from Harin over Suji’s comfort of love.

“Alright, I’ll lead you to your designated rooms.” You heard your teacher say as he started to walk towards the hotel, and your classmates followed behind him.

Fuck.

Was the first word that came to your mind once your teacher told you that you would be rooming with Harin. Harin only.

How come you didn’t foresee this! You knew Harin would never share a room with your classmates. You only shook your head.

“Do you have a problem with us in one room?” Harin said, teasingly. “I mean you can always sleep on the floor, it looks comfy enough.” She added while smirking at you.

“No, I just thought that you would have a room for yourself only.” You replied timidly, trying not to show your dying insides because of the excitement you felt having Harin by yourself.

“Well, I’ve wanted you for so long.” Harin said as she started walking towards you, caging you in the room. You really felt at that time that the room was sooo tiny. “Now, I get you to myself.” You can possibly read her thoughts behind her eyes, she wanted you, so bad.

You really don’t know how to react. When you were in a relationship with Harin, she never really showed any affection or sexual interest to you. You never really kissed, how come she has sexual interest with you now? Or you’re just assuming things.

With that, you opened the unlocked door and ran outside. That’s one way to cockblock the love of your life. You regretted that quickly, especially when you saw Eun Byol blocking your way.

“Having fun fucking my plans?” She asked as she shoved your shoulder.

“What the fuck? What did I do now?” You were so stressed about Harin and now this bitch is causing you more stress.

“Don’t mess up my way with Harin! I wanted to be in a top university so that I could date her and now you easily get your way with Harin? What does she even see in you? You’re not even that big time unlike Doah, her father is a–”

“Oh my God. I don’t have time for this; I’m not your therapist that you could yap to.” You said walking the other way. This girl is so messed up. It’s not your fault that Harin likes you or Harin’s probably just playing with you.

“Hey, wait!” You heard Eun Byol but you just flipped her off as you walked inside in the elevator. Thankfully, the elevator’s door closed off and she didn’t get to enter.

You were going to the cafeteria to buy a hot chocolate or coffee, but you saw Suji’s group. They were gathered around her.

Suji is visibly sulking, it must be because of you. Hm. Your thoughts were confirmed when Yerim looked at your way; she looked at you as if you broke the law.

Damn, you can’t even stay in one place because you’re avoiding a lot of people at the same time.

With no choice left behind, you decided to just walk outside of the hotel, since it has a nice view anyway that would keep you from getting bored.

Your thoughts were so scattered from Harin whether she is playing with mind right now, disappointing and leading on Suji, Eun Byol making you an enemy of hers. Ugh, you joined this field trip to have a good time and now you’re on your own!

The sun is setting, it’s getting cold. You’re so dumb for wearing a skirt and a t-shirt that is also very thin. So much for having a good outfit.

You decided to sit near the lake. Sitting on a big rock, you felt as if you were being stalked. Okay, this is either Harin, Suji, or that bitch, Eun Byol, plotting your death.

Testing your luck, you decided to call out the pair of eyes you’re feeling from.

“Okay,” you paused for a second, thinking whose name you’ll call out. “Harin.”

You sighed, “Come out, I know you’re somewhere behind the rocks.” you said trying to sound annoyed.

“How’d you know it’s me?” Harin asked, feeling her presence behind you.

“I know you’re a stalker, duh.” Your sass came out of nowhere.

“Harsh.” Harin said as she sat down besides you. The wind blew past the both of you, inhaling her scent. You felt the butterflies grow wild inside your stomach. You never really moved on from her, huh?

“Penny for your thoughts?” Harin asked you.

“Sure, a thousand won per word.” You tried to joke.

“I’m serious.” Harin deadpanned.

“Okay then, are you serious with me?” You tried to fireback, but when you looked at her, she was staring at you.

“Yes.” She said with that face again that you hated. Her emotionless face, you can’t read whether she's just playing some sick joke again with you.

You sighed loudly enough for her to hear, “I really like you, Harin, and to be honest I like Suji too. I’m scared of picking you and then when you get bored of me, you’ll just leave me as if I’m just an old doll.”

“I, I’m…” You can feel that Harin is getting uncomfortable from her loss of words, “I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t know how to express my feelings.” Harin confessed.

“It’s okay. I really like you, Harin. Even if you treated me like shit before.” You said, staring afar the sea.

There was a long silence, an uncomfortable one. The silence finally cut off when Harin talked, “I’m sorry.”

“Mhm.” You tried to acknowledge her apology.

“Can I make it up to you?” Harin asked. You looked at her eyes. It looks like she is really sincere.

“I only want you to explain to me what you really feel, Harin.” You knew she struggles with showing her feelings so you expected her to walk away after saying those words to her.

“I like you too, Y/N. I swear.” Harin replied. She answered you? That was shocking.

“It was at first that I…” She paused, hesitating again. You figured you let her talk out her feelings and you stayed silent.

“At first, I wanted you to be mine because everyone in the school is fond of you. I know, I treated you like a trophy and when I was satisfied with everyone knowing I have this power even on you, I left you afterwards.” Harin stands up, walking towards the sea and picking up some pebbles to throw on the sea.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. I mean it.”

“How come you like me now?” You asked her.

“Suji.” was the only word she replied to you. You were confused, what’s with Suji?

“I saw Suji and you…” she cleared her throat before continuing, “kissing.”

Oh?

“Was she your first kiss?” Harin asked, getting aggressive on the pebbles she was throwing.

You stayed silent, not knowing what to do. Suji is your first kiss. There’s no denying that.

“Silence means yes?” Harin asked.

Getting uncomfortable in the position you were currently in, you bid goodbye to her.

You thought you finally escaped that awkward situation. Well, it’s a wrong assumption because as you were walking away, Harin yanked your hands and trapped you in between her and the big ass stone behind you.

“H-harin, I need to go.” You said, your face getting flushed from the position you were in.

You struggled as you were trying to break free against her hold. Her restraint against your hand, which was in the same level as your head, is getting tight.

“Tell me, Y/N, did you fuck her?” You can feel Harin’s voice getting ragged as she was whispering those words to your ear.

You were definitely getting horny from this.

Harin is so possessive. You didn’t even know how it ended up like this.

Harin kisses you as if there is no tomorrow. You can feel her one hand snaking underneath your skirt, playing with your panty.

“H-harin!” You accidentally moaned out loud when you felt her fingers play your clit with your panties on.

“Shush, baby, you don't want Suji to see us like this, right?” Harin teases you.

“H-harin,” you said, getting breathless and trying to stop her from fingering you out in public, “I don’t want my first to be like this.”

That sparked something in Harin’s head. You’re a virgin? Harin thought to herself. Oh boy, she definitely is happy learning this new information from you.

With that, Harin pulled you and practically ran towards the hotel room she reserved for the both of you. You forgot that there was some activity your class had to do that night, so everyone saw the both of you running as if someone was chasing behind.

Harin is excited. When you entered the room, she wasted no time and undressed you immediately.

You were left in your panty and bra. Thankfully, you always wear a set of underwear. Well, who cares? Harin is crazy about you, and now that she sees you in your undies, that feels heaven to her.

She basically threw you on the king-sized bed, and she started to remove her top. Leaving her in a bra and still wearing her jeans. God, she looks so good with her toned stomach.

She hovered over you; kissing you, hungrily.

You felt her hand behind your back, and she easily detached your bra. How is she good with this? Was she with someone before? Your thoughts got cut off when Harin started to suck on your left boob.

“A-ah!” You can’t contain your moans anymore because she’s sucking off your tit and massaging your other tit with her soft, delicate hands.

“Be loud for me, baby.” Harin said in a seductive tone. Kissing your body gently while lowering her head towards your heated core.

She slowly and gently removed your panty. You are getting impatient with what she’s doing with you. You never felt this incredibly horny before.

“God! Just do it already!” You said so suddenly that you earned a laugh from Harin.

“You have to earn it, baby.” Harin said as she slapped the side of your thigh.

You know that Harin is such a bitch, but you didn’t know that even in bed she is even more bitcher. You wanted it so bad that you obeyed her and rolled over to your stomach.

“Pick a number, baby.” Harin giggled. She’s enjoying this, such a sadist bitch.

“One.” You answered, trying to get this over with.

“What about five?” Harin said, caressing your tender butt.

“Oh my God! Just do it. Let’s get this over with.” Your patience is very thin, and it doesn’t help that you were so horny that you just wanted to finish this sadist part and get her started to finger you.

“That’s ten, for being a brat.” Harin said.

You were going to say another sly remark, but Harin beat you to it when she smacked the hell out of your butt. Gosh, that hurts, but it somehow felt good?

“Count.” Harin demanded as she slapped again.

“Two!” You squeaked, “Three!” You continued as she continued being reckless to you.

“...ten.” You said in a whispered manner. You were so tired over that, but it also felt good, to be honest.

“Sleepy, baby?” Harin asked you because of your tired expression that is written all over on your face, “We can continue it tomorrow.” Harin teased you as she massages your butt with her handprints all over it.

“No, please finger me, Harin-ah.” You tried to plead.

“Tell me what you want me to do with you.” Harin said, getting in position in between your legs.

“Just do whatever you want with me, Harin.” You said, slowly.

“I want to sleep now. Can we do that?” Harin said," Oh, she thought she was smart with that reply. If you weren’t so worn out from the slaps, you would have taken control over the shit she’s trying to do.

“No, I want you to eat me out, finger me, use me however you want, Harin.” You said in a low voice.

“Use you?” That’s a word she can do every day to you.

“Please.” With that, she dived onto your core right away. She was very aggressive. You tried to help her by guiding her head where you wanted her to eat you out.

You were practically pulling her hair so hard because of the pleasure you were feeling right now. This is definitely better than you masturbating.

“F-fuuuck!” You dragged out your words.

You thought it was getting better and better until she inserted two fingers into your hole. You’ve never inserted your finger before in you and now she’s rushing. Gosh, that hurt so bad.

You were a whimpering mess when she bit your clit too. Why is she so rough with you! You thought to yourself.

As time passes, the pain that you are feeling finally turns into pleasure.

“O-oh! Right there! There!” This is the most pleasurable you ever felt in your life. Where the fuck did she learned this?

“F-feels soo good!”

Harin suddenly stopped licking your clit and went up face to face with you, still fingering you using the same motion that kept hitting your g-spot.

You kept your eyes shut because of the so much pleasure you were feeling, but you can feel Harin’s stare under the moonlight that is the only source of your room’s light.

“Did Suji make you feel this good?” Harin taunted you. She knows the power she holds over you, and she’s not scared to push it.

You didn’t seem to understand her question, too fucked to understand.

You yelped when she removed her moving fingers inside. You opened your eyes, seeing her slurping your wetness that was coated around her fingers. That. Is. So. Hot.

“Please, let me finish.” You squeaked, desperate to have your climax.

“Answer me, did she fuck you like this?” Harin smirked at you.

You were so put up with her bullshit.

You pushed her down to the bed and were now on top of her, “No, I already told you that this is my first time!”

You started to grind on her thighs. You weren’t satisfied, though. Still, it’s better than nothing!

Harin is impressed over you taking control. She’s not the type of person who submits easily, obviously.

Harin knew that you’re getting tired because your movements became slow. She decided to help you out by rubbing your core with her fingers.

“Mhhm! Mm-oore, please!” You embarrassingly moaned right after she started rubbing you.

Harin is satisfied with what had happened tonight, so she didn’t tease you anymore and just let you reach your climax.

“Fu–ck! I’m so close, ooh!” She was hitting that spot again where it makes you want to pee. With a few more pumps of her fingers, you reached your climax.

You were so out of breath and so tired. As the pleasure slowly fades away, you can feel the sleepiness and soreness start to come over you.

You were falling asleep, fast.

Clink

You hear a lighter sound, and then you smell a cigarette smoke. Harin must be smoking again.

“No smoke, please.” You said. You were expecting her to ignore or leave you now that she got what she wanted.

No words were spoken out of her, and instead, you heard the bin open. Harin must have thrown something.

You felt her lay beside you. Removing the hair that was on your face.

“I’m sorry.” was all she said as she was fixing your fucked up hair. You didn’t reply, just enjoying the soft quietness and the fact that she didn’t leave you after getting what she wanted.

“Are you asleep?” Harin asked as she was positioning to cuddle you. You laid in silence, not having the energy to talk anymore.

“The truth is, I was jealous of Suji. That day when I saw her kissed you…” Harin said, hoping that you were awake listening to what she’s saying.

You were awake.

“Right there, and then I realized that I like you. It’s not an infatuation. When I saw how happy you were with her, I just needed to have you right away, but I can’t because I’m not good at showing my affection.” Harin continued.

“I think I love you, Y/N.” Harin felt more comfortable speaking her feelings now that she thought you were asleep.

“Mhm, take me out on a date first.” You replied groggily.

Harin was dumbfounded when she realized that you had heard her whole confession.

Oh, to be loved softly by Harin.

I'm alive!!! Just went through the worst break-up, and that's why it took me so long to update. Sorry for making you wait and enjoy!!!

Requests are open ^^

[toxicanonymity]

At the table.

2.2k, DARK!Joel x f!reader, then dark!Tommy

Joel master list

A/N: One shot, follows Caught, can read alone. Throwaway Joel encore by popular demand 🚬🤡

SUMMARY: Joel brings you back to his apartment and makes you suck him off then cockwarm him while he and the boys play cards. Tommy tucks you in but not before getting off.

WARNINGS: Very dark, mean, dubious consent (captivity & ongoing abuse), humiliation, degradation, manhandling, injury (intentional burns), shackles, blow job, P in V, cockwarming, stretching, fisting-adjacent fingering

He caught you. You knew he would. You never should have tried. It was too easy and you’re beginning to realize he probably left you unlocked on purpose. For the chase, the thrill of the hunt, and the punishment. The humiliation.

On the walk home, Joel screws open his canteen and asks if you’re thirsty. You nod and he forces you to your knees and tells you to open your mouth. He takes a swig of water, swallows it, then spits it in your mouth. Then he takes another sip and doesn’t swallow it. He squats down, firmly takes your jaw in his hand, and lets it dribble from his mouth to yours.

“Now get up.”

You struggle to your feet and he yanks you up by the elbow. His apartment isn’t too far, because you didn’t make it far when you ran.

On the way up the stairs, he groans with the effort. “Too fuckin tired,” he complains. “I should get Tommy to fuck some sense into ya.”

You’re quiet.

“Bet ya’d like that, huh?”

“No,” you reply.

“‘an’ why’s that?”

“Only want yours.” If he knew any different, he probably wouldn’t let Tommy speak to you much less touch you.

“Cause i ruined ya, didn’t i? Ruined all your holes.”

“I dunno”

“Got ya too stretched to even feel Tommy’s, right?” He sighs and musses your hair. “Ruined. Now you’re just for me. You know that, right?”

“I know.”

“That cunt’s never gonna please another man now.” He chuckles darkly. “But hell, might as well try, darlin’.”

You don’t say anything else.

“I ain’t gonna stop ya.” He’s passed you around enough that you don’t doubt it, but he always keeps you to himself in the end. It’s almost like a game of dominance. Like he’ll let the men get a taste, then yank you away and laugh that they can’t have the rest.

Joel gets you back to his apartment and you’re briefly relieved when he doesn’t take you straight to the dim room with your bed and chains. But he does shove you up against the door with his hand around your throat. “Don’t you ever pull that shit again.”

You nod a tearful acknowledgement. He lets go of you and softens his tone. “Such a pretty girl,” before adding, “Fuckin’ act like it.” You nod again.

“Boys are comin’ over,” he says. “You’re gonna sit on my cock and you’re not gonna fuckin’ move.”

—--

Your clit twitches. The sitting-on-his cock part, that doesn’t sound half bad. But you’re afraid of what else he might do. You’re also afraid of what’s becoming of you. Part of you (a specific part of you) is more excited than fearful at the thought of him hurting you, humiliating you. It’s pavlovian - he’s forced you to cum so many times in fucked up situations, your body can’t help itself.

They’re coming over to play poker. They sit in the kitchen. First, Joel puts you under the table at his feet. “Do a good job, and I might let ya stay there.” You palm the warm bulge over his jeans, then straddle his boot as you unbuckle his belt. You slowly feel him getting bigger and harder. When he’s fully stiff and his hips begin to rock into your hand, you dig your knuckles into his belly as you unbutton his jeans then unzip him. You massage him through his boxers before unbuttoning the flap and taking out his hard cock. You wrap your hands around it as you sit up more to bring your head to his crotch as Tommy deals the cards. Joel moves an ashtray from the table to a shelf behind him.

As your head approaches his groin, you get a strong whiff of his musk and it makes you throb. You take his tip into his mouth and don’t go slow. He doesn’t like it when you ‘tease’ him. You suck with your whole mouth and throat, bobbing your head, getting him really slobbery, his girth stretching the corners of your mouth. Your suction extracts his salty precum and a drop trickles down your throat. Joel plays a hand of poker and growls from his chest. The sound makes you twitch and your crotch presses into his shin for relief.

“Lil slut’s already humpin’ my leg.”

They laugh. Tommy asks, “dibs on next?”

Joel scoffs. Not today, apparently. “Fuck off, man,” he grumbles, then peeks under the table at you. “Take your clothes off, baby.” You get his dick really wet, then take off your pants and underwear, preparing to climb into his lap. “Everything,” Joel says. You take off your shirt, too. You don’t own any bras right now. "C'mere." He puts down his cards and rests his hands face up on his knees for you to grab onto. You begin to hover over his lap, biting your lip. He sticks two dirty fingers between your legs and slides them through your folds. He laughs at how wet you are. "Thirsty bitch. Turn around."

Your thighs shake as he makes you face the rest of the guys. He holds his cock with one hand and guides you by your hip with another. The men stare. As soon as his slobbery tip hits your cunt, he impales you on his cock. You gasp as he bruises your cervix and your body tries to catch up with him, giving you more moisture. Then he roughly gropes your breast and pulls you back against his chest on full display for all of them. He massages both your breasts with a groan.

"Your hand, buddy," Joel says to the man across from him. The men compose themselves to keep playing.

He rocks you on his cock, massaging your breasts in a circular motion with your nipples between his middle and ring fingers. His thick cock moving deep inside makes you feel good. Nothing hurts at the moment, except your nipples which are so hard they're on the verge of pain. He moves one hand to your clit and begins to rub you with abandon, still massaging your other breast. Tommy lights a cigarette.

By the time it's Joel's turn to play, you're about to cum. You look up at the ceiling and he bounces you on his cock in short quick pulses. The tension bursts and you whimper as he moves his hand from your clit to the back of your neck. "Look at me, baby." When you turn your head to the side, he slams you down on the table. Your hard nipples are swallowed up by your breasts with the impact and you're still coming. He holds you down and you whine as your walls choke his cock.

Your hips rock with your climax and he commands "stay fuckin' still." You whine and gush on his lap as he holds you down on the table.

"Good God," he grumbles. "You're gonna wash'em"

You finish coming and Joel keeps holding you still. You know better than to try to move. He picks up his cards and holds them between your naked shoulder blades as he plays his hand. Then he puts them face down on your back to light a cigarette. He picks up his hand of cards again and sits back in his chair.

The men continue their game, talking like you're not there, but you can feel their eyes on you. Your breasts are sweating against the slick wood table. Your eyes are growing bloodshot with the smoke of their cigarettes. Joel's cock occasionally twitches inside you, thick and stiff.

Tommy finishes his cigarette and hands it to Joel, nodding at the ashtray behind him. You flinch and your ass clenches as he brings it to your shoulder, close to a cluster of scars. He presses the smoldering end to your skin and you tense with the white hot burn, making your cunt choke his cock. You twitch with pleasure as the burn fades. His cock moves.

"Oof," his hips shift under you. "Easy baby." He's close to finishing his own cigarette. They continue playing. When Joel finishes his own cigarette he sits back and brings the cigarette butt to your lower back.

He lifts his hips as he presses the butt of it into your skin and your eyes pinch shut. Your body erupts in goose bumps and as you clench around him, he begins to erupt with a long sigh. He pulses warmly against your cervix. Lifting his hips and sighing as the other men watch. Your eyes briefly flutter open to see Tommy palming himself and you lock eyes with him. Your mouth falls open, you pinch your eyes shut, and you moan as another climax overtakes you.

Joel finishes dumping his load in you and you're a whimpering mess as you finish coming. He leaves you on his softening cock for the rest of the game, and you begin to drift off, then one of the men wants to talk about their drug supplier. Joel sighs.

“She asleep?” Tommy asks.

Joel leans to one side as he digs into his pocket and hands Tommy a key to your chain. “Put her to bed.”

—---

Tommy clears his throat then adjusts himself, then nudges you. “Hey, ready for bed?”

“For Christ’s sake, just take her, Tommy.” Joel lifts his hips and holds you up against the table by your sides. You wobble as you begin to stand on your feet.

“Clothes?” Tommy asks.

“Nah,” Joel says.

Tommy swallows and takes you by the elbow. His grip is firm but nothing like Joel’s. He takes you down the basement, catching you when you wobble on the stairs. Then he gently shoves you down on the bed like it’s a chore. “Why’d ya run?”

“I was hungry.”

“I’ll getcha somethin’ if you’re good.” He probably would. He was the one who got you a blanket.

“Thanks.”

Tommy palms himself over his jeans as he watches you turn on your side and reach for the dirty blanket. He shakes his head. “Not yet, sugar,” and you drop the blanket. He kneels on the bed. “Open those pretty legs and lemme see the damage.” You turn onto your back and spread your thighs.

Tommy bends your knees for you then spreads your thighs wider.

He watches Joels cum leak out of your fucked-out cunt and gives a low whistle. “Really did a number on ya tonight, didn’t he? Kept ya on it forever”

Tommy sits on the bed and reaches for your pussy. He runs his fingers through your slick and inserts two, then three of his thick digits within seconds. “God damn,” he mutters. "Does it hurt?"

You shake your head no.

You squirm with tension building as he finger fucks you. You watch him watch his middle three fingers go in and out of your cunt. He then he adds his pinky, stretching you even wider. You gasp at the strain. "Fuck," he says. He thumbs your clit and slowly moves his fingers inside you in small pulses. Your body adjusts and gets wetter again. "You wanna cum again? Cum in my hand like a good little slut?"

You nod.

"Gonna let me fuck ya first though."

You swallow. "Okay."

Tommy takes his soaking wet hand away. He unzips his pants and takes out his hard cock, stroking it with his dripping hand as he gets between your knees. His cock looks painfully stiff.

He braces one hand on the bed near your navel and slides his cock right into you. "Shit," he mutters, disappointed rather than pleased. "Shoulda done this first," he laughs. "Could prolly fit two of me in here right now, huh?" His cock wasn't small, either. He thrusts a few times and pulls you toward him by your thighs. You try to squeeze him with your walls and he chuckles. “‘s good effort, sweetheart.” After thrusting a few more times, he speeds up. He slams his hips into you and your back arches. You whimper on the verge of coming.

“Really?” Tommy asks? “I’m hittin' somethin'? You can feel it?"

You nod with a whimper.

“Alright,” he pants, “I'll let ya have it.” He rails you hard and fast for a minute then you whine as a climax overwhelms you. Your walls contract around him and he says, “Yeah, there we go,” and keeps fucking you. "There it is." He fucks you through it. “Ready or not,” he mutters, then slams his hips into you and begins to dump his load. He sighs as his spend fills you and mixes with Joel’s. Then he pulls out and smiles darkly as some trickles out of you. He gathers it with his fingers and pushes it back inside.

"Gettin' real good at takin' all this," he whispers, then squeezes your thigh affectionately. He reaches for the floor and grabs the blanket. "you're a good girl, ya know." He cuffs you to the bed and spreads the blanket over you. "you know better than runnin’.”

You nod. Tommy squeezes your thigh as he stands up, then he goes across the basement and returns with some jerky. “I’ll talk to him ‘bout the food”

“No don’t”

“Why not”

“I’ll get in trouble”

“Not gonna say you said it.”

“Thanks,” you smile.

He walks upstairs leaving you alone.

-------

------

Thank you so much for reading and engaging 🖤🤟

@toxicfics for notifications ✉️

For a different dark Joel who's more complex, read raider Joel ⛓️🖤 read the latest if you haven't for his POV.

For a different dark Tommy, see Birds of prey (raider Tommy)

For another under table bj that leads to Tommy, see Tommy's hard day. 🗼

[hyukalyptus]

a coincidence — rockstar!yeonjun x fem!reader

cw. rockstar!yeonjun x audiencemember!reader, chubby!reader implied, fem!reader, mentions of alcohol, oral (m. receiving), sex (condoms mentioned <3), roleplaying(?), orgasm denial, lmk if there's more. notes. this is part of @napofamoon's growing pain rock band!au collaboration :D thank you @nightlyawnzz for being a beta reader :3 and thank you angie for that one line of dialogue (didn't know if you wanted to like not be tagged lol), not super well edited, smut under cut <3 wc. 2.8K

Who is that? Yeonjun’s seen hundreds—thousands—of pretty girls at his concerts. But no one’s ever truly made an impression. Every once in a while, there’d be one that barely stuck out from the crowd, but nothing ever stuck. After a while, the crowds started getting blurry. Has performing become a bit boring for him? Maybe. There wasn’t a spark anymore. No reason to perform. 

But you…you immediately caught his eye. A bright star in a sea of dull strangers—smiling, drinking, dancing to the music, having a blast. You looked fun, exciting, flirty. And he wanted—needed—to get to know you. But first, he needed to get your attention. 

He’s cool, casual with his bass; he’s a natural. The way he moves with the music, pouty lips singing under his breath along with the frontman, the stage lights sparkling in his eyes—it didn’t take much focus for him to nail every song. 

So he decided to have a bit of fun tonight. Moving a bit more, putting on a bit more of a show than usual, getting closer to the edge of the stage without being too obvious. All to get your attention. So why won’t you look at him? Just a bit closer and maybe…

Bingo. 

You’ve locked eyes and there’s that something he’s been looking for. Something he’s been looking for for a while. That spark. That reason to put on a bit of a show. 

And you could tell. You were just as into it as he was. 

Watching his every move—flirting without crossing a line, giving him seductive looks, dancing in his direction. It was fun. It was thrilling. That unspoken desire between two strangers—and one of them admires the other before they’ve even met? How scandalous, hm? The tension grew and grew until—

“Thank you everyone; good night!”

But…what do you do now? How could he find you later? Oh, why didn’t he slip the security guard his number to give to you? Where are you? No, no, no, don’t leave. 

There was nothing he could do; the lights were dim, the curtain was drawn, the crowd was spilling out the front door. You never left his mind, though. Not when he put his bass in its case, not when he zipped his hoodie up to leave, not when he plopped down on his hotel bed, never. 

Desperately trying to get you off his mind, he heads down to the hotel bar. Oh, how pathetic is this? A world-famous rock star sitting alone at a hotel’s bar sipping a whiskey feeling sorry for himself? Over what? Some girl? 

Please don’t sit there…he begs silently watching a strange figure take the seat in the bar stool next to him. Despite the need for alone time, he couldn’t help but glance over at the sound of your—

“Just a vodka soda, please.” 

Oh, shit. It’s you. What does he do? Why are his hands so sweaty? When did he turn into such a loser? Getting this worked up over a girl. He needs to get your attention again, but he doesn't want to come off too pushy. You’re here alone too and maybe you wanna keep it that way. 

Fuck it. 

He clears his throat, cooly-maybe-not-so-cooly saying, “I saw you in the audience.” Just as you planned. Well, sort of. You didn’t mean to run into him. Glancing across the room at the hotel you were staying in to see that hot bassist sitting alone at the bar was pure luck. 

But you need to keep it cool. Don’t be too…weird. Just a simple glance and gentle nod is enough. 

“Did you enjoy the show?” He asks, knowing your answer. He could see your desire just as much as you could see his, but you weren’t gonna give in just yet. You nod again, adding a quiet hum. “Are you from around here or…?” Should he move a bit closer? Sure. Should he brush your knee with his fingertips? Why not? Oh, they give you goosebumps. You don’t pull away or even flinch. You’re welcoming this. 

“No, I’m here on business. That’s why I’m, you know, at a hotel right now.”

“Right.” He pauses, like he has to think of the next thing to say, “I’m Yeonjun, by the way. But you already knew that.”

“And what makes you think that?”

“No reason,” he snarks. “Just that you bought a ticket to my show.”

“As if,” you roll your eyes. “I was bored and the show was right down the street.” Lie. All of this was lies. Of course you were a fan. Both of you knew that. 

“So you got front-row seats from a scalper then?”

Now it’s time for some fun. Turning toward him, you introduce yourself, face inching closer and closer, his hand sneaking up higher on your thigh, your heartbeat getting faster with each millimeter. You maintain your confidence best you know how, but you must admit, he’s intimidating. Is it that way he unapologetically stares at your body? The way he’s flirting with a fan after a show? The way his lips look like they’d perfectly wrap around your—

“Do you always find fans to flirt with after the show?” 

“No. Never,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “But you’re so…” he tucks some fallen hair behind your ear, eyes roaming your face, “gorgeous. I haven’t stopped thinking about you in the audience. Then boom, here you are at my hotel’s bar. Must be fate.”

“Or a coincidence.” 

Both resorting to a shrug, there’s tension in the air like you’ve never felt. It’s excruciating. He’s leaning closer to you, oh, what was he about to say?

“I saw you watching me,” he whispers right against your ear—close enough to feel his breath. Fuck, he’s good. This is gonna be fun. And you’re gonna be a brat. At least for a little. 

“I was watching all five of you,” you say, adding an annoying eye roll for good measure. 

“Nope,” he says, sitting back and smiling like he knows a secret of yours. Which he may. “Only me.” 

“So what if I was?” You narrow your eyes at him. You weren’t gonna break eye contact now. You can’t. But he doesn’t expect you to keep it. He expects you to cower and blush like everyone always does. But you don’t. And he likes that. “I’m waiting.”

“Makes me wonder what else you wanna watch me do is all.”

“Like what?” 

“I dunno,” he chuckles. “You tell me. You were the one that couldn’t stop staring at me.”

That jerk. That stupid fucking jerk. Looking at him with heavy-lidded eyes, you glance down at his lips—side note: jesus fucking christ they look delicious but that’s beside the point right now—and lean in as close as you can without touching him. Parting his own lips, he tilts his head just barely and closes his eyes. 

“Aw, you’re so cute.” You giggle. “You thought I was gonna kiss you?”

While you’re watching him retreat, defeated at his own game, he runs his fingers through his messy black hair. 

“So you think I’m cute?” 

Let’s give in now. “No.” You stand, taking a deep breath and walk behind him, sliding your hands down his chest, bending to meet his ear to whisper, “I think you’re fucking sexy.” 

Goosebumps—but this time, they’re on him. Has anyone ever done this to him before? Let’s take it one step further. You bite his ear lobe gently and he sighs, your name falling out of his lips breathlessly. 

“Hm?”

“Come upstairs with me,” he whispers. 

Another step further. Sliding your hand up the back of his neck, you grip some of his hair, tugging it harshly, his eyes widening as he hisses. 

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Will you come upstairs with me? Please.”

Turning him around in his barstool, you stand between his legs, his eyes roaming up and down your body. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

It was all a blur as he took you upstairs—heading straight for the elevator, pushing you against the wall to finally crash his lips into yours, hands roaming your body trying to decide what part of it to grab onto. The ding of the elevator snaps you out of it before stumbling down the hallway to his room. 

When he finally gets the door open and the door slams behind you, he’s gentler, like he wants to take his time with you. But you don’t. You drag him toward the bed and push him to the mattress to straddle his hips. Wrapping his hands around your waist, his hands slip under the skirt of your dress to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze. 

Lifting off him, you lift your dress over your head as he eyes your pretty white lace lingerie while he smirks to himself. Fuck, he looks hot when he bites his lip like that. And, god, you need his shirt off. Tugging at it, you rock your hips back and forth to shimmy it off while he stays laying down. Hands on bodies, breath heavy, lips on each other’s…god, this was fun. 

He flips you to your back, pressing his lips to your chest, trailing kisses over your collarbone. Pushing your face to the side to access your neck, he covers it in sloppy, wet kisses. 

Since when was your bra so uncomfortable? And since when was it such a cock blocker? With that out of the way, his lips find your nipples, sucking harshly, but licking them to soothe the stings. Tugging at the waistband of his joggers, you can’t stop begging him to fuck you. 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he says, mimicking your tone from earlier.

“Please, Yeonjun—” you gasp at the feeling of his finger gliding over your clit slowly—slower than anyone’s ever touched you before. But it’s amazing. “Will you please fuck me?” 

“Not yet,” he whispers. Standing to pull his pants and boxers down in one motion, he looks over your body. Oh, what was he gonna do with you and everything your body has to offer? Put you on your knees so he can cum all over your full tits? Fuck you from behind so he can see your ass jiggle? Fuck you in missionary so he can see your tits and tummy jiggle while he squeezes your thighs? There’s too many options to pick from.

But before he can make the decision, you crawl over to the foot of the bed, making a big show of it before reaching for his hips. Wrapping your hands around his hips to squeeze his ass, you pull him closer, kissing the tip of his cock. You were going to be the death of him. But you haven’t even tasted him yet. Glancing up at him through your eyelashes, you finally sink down on him completely. 

And fuck do you feel good. 

Fingers fumbling through your hair as he tries to steady himself, his head falls back to let out the most beautiful moan you’ve ever heard from a man. He whispers your name. 

“What?” You look at him, your lips forming a pout while you wait for an answer. He responds with a simple eyebrow raise. “You said my name,” you say matter-of-factly. “What is it?”

“Don’t tease me.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” 

Hooking his hands behind your knees, he pulls to flip you on your back while you let out a yelp. He boxes you in with his elbows, dragging his teeth over one of your nipples while you grip his hair, back arching to meet his mouth. He covers you in kisses. You don’t think anyone’s ever kissed you this much. Nothing will ever be enough after this. 

As he makes his way down, your legs fall over his shoulders, showering your thick thighs with kisses. Using his mouth to put the smallest amount of pressure on your clit over your thong, he makes you whine and involuntarily grind against his chin, trying to relieve any tension. But he’s not giving in either. Backing away, he chuckles at you. That jerk. Why does he have to be such a jerk?

“Don’t do that to me,” you say. Eyes dark, he takes the waistband of your thong between his teeth, pulling them down slowly, letting them drag over your skin. Kneeling between your thighs, he keeps that spine-tingling eye contact as he rubs his tip over your center. That sends a jolt through your body, letting your brain finally catch up with your body. 

“Will you wear a condom?”

Nodding, he quickly rustles through his suitcase messily splayed across the floor. Ripping the condom open with his teeth, he starts to roll it down himself, which is a glorious sight. And he can tell the effect it has on you. You smirk, glancing up at his eyes—eyes that are sparkling back at you. 

“Eyes on my cock, baby.”

Fine by you. Sliding it down so slowly, you’re entranced. He knows exactly what he’s doing. 

One hand pressing on your hip, the other lining himself up with your pussy, he pushes himself inside you, your eyes rolling back and he groans in your ear. Short shallow breaths grace your skin as he thrusts fast and hard, just like you wanted. 

Bodies rocking together, he stares at your tits bouncing with his movements. Your nails start dragging down his back, but he quickly pulls out to turn you over, lifting you by your hips to bring you on all fours, your ass on full display. He spanks you, hard enough that your cheek will be pink tomorrow morning. 

Pressing on your lower back to deepen the arch, he thrusts into you again. With your face squished against the mattress, his hands dig into the fat of your hips to hold you in place. The fire in your stomach roars, legs trembling, muscles weak. He yanks you up by your hair—you were hoping he’d do that—to press your back to his chest, letting you feel how heavy he's breathing. 

“Don’t cum yet,” he says.

“Who said I was close?”

That evil laugh makes your eyes roll. “I can feel it.” Well, you can’t really argue with that. He was right. “Don’t.”

“You really like telling me what to do, huh?”

He snakes his hand in front of you to circle your clit, turning your whines to whimpers, desperately fighting the urge to let yourself go. What would happen if you did let yourself cum, though? It might be exciting to find out, hm? But being told what to do and when is just as exciting.

Grabbing his arm, your nails dig into his skin. He releases your hair, pushing you to the mattress roughly, face pressed against the mattress. Fists full of bed sheets, his hands spread across your ass, skin spilling through his fingers. 

It’s getting increasingly difficult to hold it together—the only thing letting you is knowing how good you must be making him feel if he’s making noises like that. 

“Yeonjun,” you gasp, his speed increasing. “Please.” The way he grunts tells you he’s close too, but he doesn’t plan on holding back. Pull my hair again, pull my hair again, pull my hair again, you keep thinking to yourself. And, oh, did you say that out loud? Because he pulls your hair again, finding an even deeper spot inside if you, the feeling spreading to your toes. 

“Please, Yeonjun—” you yelp. “Please let me cum.”

He groans again, your name falling out of his lips before adding, “Cum for me.”

Your loud whimpers are muffled by the pillow you’ve shoved your face into, the fire in your stomach roaring louder and louder until—

Fuck…

God, this is good. Your orgasm explodes inside you, fireworks going off in all directions, filling every nook and cranny of your body. Praising you through your orgasm, he encourages you to cum hard around him, reminding you of how good your pussy feels around his cock. 

Your body relaxes, but his doesn’t. He thrusts deeper inside of you, desperate to reach his own climax.

“Fuck—” he grunts, spanking you again. He loves seeing you jiggle like that. Reaching in front of you, he massages your tits, squeezing to get a firm grip. 

His breath hitches, his thrusts getting sloppy as he twitches inside you, groaning through his climax.

Collapsing on top of you, he catches his breath, chest rushing and falling against your back. Rolling off you to plop onto the mattress, he turns to look at your face while there’s a stillness in the air. 

“...so you’re a fan now?” 

“Haven’t I always been?”

Chuckling, his face turns to the ceiling, running his fingers through his hair, resting his arms above his head. As you make eye contact, both of you burst out laughing—

“I didn’t think you’d like the roleplaying thing as much as you did,” you giggle.

“Well, what can I say? It was hot,” he says. “Great idea, baby.” Tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, he smiles at you, kissing your forehead. “I love bringing you on tour with us.”

“I love it too.”

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Guilty as Sin? — Chapter Five

pairing: professor!javier peña x f!reader

rating: series is 18+ only, minors DNI, professor/student dynamic, oral (fem!rec), mutual masturbation, lots of ogling, romantic Javi will be the death of me, dirty talk, little bit of angst thrown in, reader's never experienced oral, think that's it for now

word count: 4k

series masterlist

You didn’t attend Dr. Peña’s office hours that day, too exhausted by your crumbling social life to deal with whatever it was he wanted to talk about with you in private. Instead, you spent the night grocery shopping, decorating your new place, and getting a jump start on Dr. Arman’s research paper due in a few weeks. 

By the time you were in bed and began to mindlessly scroll on your phone, it was nearing midnight. As you scrolled through pinterest finding sad quote after sad quote to make your sadness feel a little less isolating, an email notification lit up your screen. You clicked on it, finding a message from Dr. Peña.

Please set up an appointment with me to discuss your grade. 

Dr. Javier Peña

jpeña@utlaw.edu

555-268-8521

You narrowed your brows at the message—what was he talking about? You quickly opened the online portal to check your grade, finding it in near-perfect standing. Flipping back to the email, you read it over again before locking eyes on his phone number, bolded in bright red. Chuckling at his use of coded messaging, you copied the number and added it to your contacts as Javier just in case someone decided to snoop around. 

Biting your lip, you let your fingers hover over your keyboard, unsure of what to say, or if he even wanted you to message him. But he had to, right? No one highlighted shit in red if they didn’t mean to draw attention. 

You settled on something simple, something that couldn’t possibly be misconstrued if an outside party were to see it. 

You: Hey, it’s…

You: You emailed about setting up an appointment?

You waited what felt like a lifetime, choosing to spend those torturous minutes anxiously scrolling through your feed until your phone buzzed with an alert. 

Javier: So formal. 

You rolled your eyes. 

Javier: Why didn’t you show up today?

You: Too tired.

Javier: You still tired? 

You bit your lip as his words sent a thrilling ache between your thighs. 

You: Depends.  

Javier responded only with an address, one that looked to be attached to an apartment complex in the nice part of town. With your heart racing with excitement and head screaming with caution, you decided that you’d earned a bit of recklessness. You’d done everything you needed to do today, so why not do something you wanted to do?

You thanked the skies for convincing you to pamper yourself earlier with an everything shower as you slipped into a much less comfy pair of underwear, choosing to keep your hoodie and leggings on rather than dressing to impress. After all, there was a good chance your hopes would come crashing down if he truly only meant to talk. 

The drive to his place was spent singing along to your favorite album, hoping to drown out the alarm sounds in your head that seemed to scream, idiot!

You pulled into the gated complex, punching in the code he’d sent to you before making your way through the gates. You parked your beat up car in a visitor spot, headlights illuminating a man smoking a cigarette in that black leather jacket you could still feel wrapped around your shoulders. Javier. 

He watched you as you climbed out of the car, hands trembling with nerves. 

“Hey,” you breathed, giving him a nervous smile. Javier’s smile was a lot more confident, causing a dimple to form in his left cheek. 

“Hey,” he replied, ashing out the cigarette on the trash can beside him before approaching you. “You look cozy. Hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Should I take that as an insult?” you joked. 

“No,” he assured, his smile softening to something so affectionate it made your heart race. “I like you like this.”

You flushed, dropping your eyes to the pavement beneath your feet. Javier surprised you by lifting his hand to your chin, gently guiding your eyes back to his. “This isn’t a good idea,” he husked, eyes bouncing back and forth between yours. “But fuck me, I can’t stop thinking about you.” 

Your lips parted as he stepped closer, his hand shifting to cradle your cheek, his thumb stroking across your skin. 

“But first, I wanted to introduce you to someone,” he said, letting his hand fall to his side. Tipping his head in the direction of the lobby, he urged you to follow him. 

Who the fuck did he possibly want to introduce you to? His secret family?

Javier opened the door with a smug look, furthering your confusion until the old woman—who looked around the age of seventy—behind the front desk popped up with a smile. 

“I didn’t see you sneak out, Javi,” she smiled, batting her eyes at him. “You got a secret exit I don’t know about, honey?”

“It wouldn’t be a secret if I told you, Jeannie, now would it be?” he crooned, turning to you. “This was the friend of mine I wanted to introduce you to. She’s run the complex for how long now, Jeannie?”

“Thirty years,” she replied, both pride and exhaustion in her tone. “Thirty years and no goddamn retirement in sight.”

You gaped at Javier, his brow raising and smirk spreading into a full on dimpled-grin. Quickly turning to Jeannie, you chuckled and shook your head at yourself. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Jeannie,” you smiled, giving her your name. 

“You too, sweetie,” she said. “Y’all have a good night. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That’s not saying much, Jeannie,” Javier teased, resting his hand on your back as he guided you to the elevator. 

You kept quiet until you were inside the privacy of those four walls. “So you finally figured it out.”

“Well, I figured it out when you slammed my car door on me,” he chuckled, standing close enough for you to smell his cologne. You stepped closer to that scent of warmth and comfort, brushing your arm against his. “Thought I’d clear the air this way since you stood me up earlier.”

“I didn’t stand you up,” you laughed. “I just…I don’t know. Needed some time away from everything.”

He hummed his response, waiting for the bell to chime, signaling your arrival to the third floor, before leading you out and down the hall to his apartment. As he put his key in the lock, he turned to you with a half-smile. “You sure you want this?”

“Depends on what this is,” you replied. Javier smiled, shaking his head before opening the door to his place. He let you walk in ahead of him, the door shutting and locking behind him. 

“This is…I don’t know,” he sighed, though it sounded less like frustration but more along the lines of hesitant acceptance. “Me throwing caution to the wind, I guess.”

“Just you?” you asked, turning away from the black and brown abstract painting on the wall of his living room to look at him over your shoulder. He looked at you with such unabashed desire as he carefully stepped into your space until his chest was nearly pressed against your back. 

“Us, then,” he whispered, slowly dragging his fingertips up the length of your arm, causing goosebumps to form on your skin. Your breath hitched as he leaned in to brush his lips against the shell of your ear. “Do you know how much space in my mind you’ve taken up? Without doing anything more than existing.” 

You turned to face him, your hands settling on his chest before sliding up to the nape of his neck. Javier’s brow furrowed as he watched you study his features, committing each one to memory in case tonight was all you’d ever have with him. “Only seems fair that I’m on your mind as much as you’re on mine.”

Javier groaned softly, his hands finding your hips as he walked you backwards, sandwiching you between his body and the back of his sectional. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, licking his lips as his eyes fell to yours. “These fucking lips that’ve been calling my name since the first time I saw you.”

You let out a soft breath, nodding your head quickly, as if he’d change his mind if you didn’t reply quick enough. Javier smiled, something fleeting and rooted in affection before crashing his lips against yours. You moaned at the taste of cinnamon blended with a hint of the cigarette he’d been smoking when you pulled into the parking lot. 

What started out as cautious quickly turned into something needy, his hands gripping your hips to pull you closer to his frame. You gasped into his mouth as he pressed his generous arousal against you, your center aching to feel him without the layers between you. 

“Javi,” you panted out the nickname, relishing in the groan it elicited. Javier was quick to pull away, his dark eyes lust blown and wild as he lifted a hand to your face. 

“What do you want, cariño?” he rasped, smoothing his thumb over your bottom lip as though to worship it. “Hm?”

It took you a few seconds to register what he’d said, your mind preoccupied with fantasy after fantasy that finally felt possible. 

“You,” you replied, soft and breathy. “Your lips, your tongue, your fingers, your…”

“My what?” he coaxed, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

Lowering your hand down his chest and stomach, you let your palm rest against his arousal, giving him a gentle squeeze that made him curse. “This. This is what I want.” 

“Fuck me,” he swore, taking a step away from you before entering a pace. He raked his hand across his face as he seemed to mull things over, meanwhile you were left standing there, panting like an idiot while replaying the interaction in your head. 

Was it your touch that spooked him? Oh god, did he not want to be touched? Perhaps you were no better than Derrick, so blinded by desire and longing that you acted before asking. 

“Javi, I—“

“If we do this,” he started, stilling his pacing to give you a stern look. “It’s a one time thing. You and I will go about our lives as normal. You can continue to TA for me if you want, or I can try to transfer you to another professor.”

“I don’t want that,” you blurted, too lost in lust to think clearly. “One time. Get it out of our systems.”

Javier chuckled, as if he had foresight into how this all played out. He could’ve seen a happy ending, the two of you reminiscing on this very moment, laughing at the idiots you once were to ever think for a minute it would only be a one time thing. Or, more realistically, he imagined the two of you awkwardly dealing with the existence of the other with forced greetings and a hidden longing that felt more like a haunting. 

Whatever scene he saw, it didn’t prevent him from sauntering back to you, from kissing you like a sailor greeting his wife after being away at sea for years, from guiding you into his bedroom, and you didn’t dare break the magic of the moment by asking.

Javier backed you against the wall, his thigh slotting between yours. His lips traveled the line of your neck, teeth grazing across your racing pulse only to soothe over the tender flesh with his tongue. 

“If you knew the things I’ve imagined…” His words trailed off into a dark chuckle as his hands slid up your side to cup your breast through your shirt. He groaned at the lack of a bra, his hips pressing into yours as he swiped his thumb across your peaked nipple. “You proud that you’ve broken a good, honorable man? That the sight of you in those fucking skirts made me insane enough to consider fucking you right on my desk?”

“Sort of,” you admitted, earning a genuine laugh. You smiled at him as he pulled back, lifting his hand to hold your face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

The way he looked at you almost made your heart stop. You’d never been looked at like that before, with respect, affection, and genuine interest. It had only been lust before this, or worse, pity. The girl who stayed loyal, who allowed a man to walk all over her for years on end. 

“Just admiring,” he shrugged, giving you a casual purse of his lips. “Clever, brave, resilient, and so fucking beautiful it hurts.”

You couldn’t take hearing anything that sincere from him, not when it was all you ever wanted to hear, not when you knew it would all be over tomorrow. You tugged him back in for a kiss, hastily shedding his jacket in the process. Javier moaned into your mouth, pressing you against the wall with one arm wrapped around your waist and the other hoisting your thigh over his hip. 

You moved on to the buttons of his shirt as he mouthed his way down your neck to your chest, his greedy hands palming every soft bit of flesh he could find. 

“Take this off,” you demanded, your fingers too shaky to unfasten the buttons. Javier pulled away from you to do just that, his chin nudging at you as if to say, you too. You peeled off your hoodie, earning a groan from Javier as he unbuckled his belt, his eyes eating up the sight of your bare breasts. “Fuck me, you’d turn Christ himself into a sinner.”

You ignored the butterflies his praises stirred in your belly as you peeled off your leggings and underwear in one fluid motion, leaving you completely bare—and for once in your life, confident—in front of him. Javier abandoned undoing the button of his jeans in favor for coming back to you, both hands cradling your face as he backed you against the wall again. 

“One night,” he muttered, seemingly to himself. “We’ll fucking see.”

You slid your hand down his stomach to the button of his jeans, undoing it with only a little bit of trouble. Javier’s lips never left yours as you tugged the zipper down before slipping your hand inside. You both moaned at the feeling of your hand meeting his bare flesh, swallowing down the sounds of mutual pleasure. 

God, he was big. Bigger than anyone you’d ever been with before. 

“You’re going to ruin me for all men,” you purred into the air as he focused his lips, teeth, and tongue on your pulse again, your hand slowly pumping his shaft as best as you could given the way his body was pressing you into the wall. 

“I’ve always been an overachiever,” he replied, his smirk growing against your skin as he placed one last soft kiss against your pulse before kneeling down in front of you. You kept your eyes locked on his as he guided your calf to rest over his shoulder, his lips pressing their way up the inside of your leg. 

This was better than your favorite fantasy. It hadn’t managed to get the brown of his eyes, the rough warmth of his hands, the sinful scrape of his mustache across your soft skin right. In fact, now that you were witness to the real thing, the fantasy seemed like nothing more than a cheap knock-off.

“Javi,” you cautioned, remembering one critical detail about the fantasy. The fact that you’d never actually had this done to you before. All the sex and sin you’d gotten up to in your life, but never this. Selfish fucking men. 

“What,” he hummed lazily against your skin, now kissing your inner thigh. 

“You don’t have to,” you replied, nothing more than a whisper. Javier shook his head at you, gently nipping at your sensitive flesh. 

“Don’t have to, but fuck me, I want to,” he rasped, lathing his tongue over where he’d just given you a lovebite. You gently raked your hand through his hair, bringing his eyes away from your aching center and back to yours. 

“I’ve had this exact fantasy since the first day of class,” you admitted, biting your lip. “It’s been my favorite thing to think about when I touch myself.”

Javier groaned, desperate and wrecked. 

“Can you make it as good as my fantasy?” you asked, your voice a seductive purr. 

There was something about this—Javier on his knees, practically begging to taste you—that felt so much more empowering than you’d ever felt before with a sexual partner. How you’d ever go back to more age appropriate men, you weren’t sure. 

“You’re…” He cut himself off, shaking his head before leaning closer to where you practically dripped with need. “I’ll give you something real to fantasize about when you touch yourself, cariño.”

You smiled at the promise, only for it to fall as your jaw went slack at the feeling of Javier’s tongue licking a broad stripe up your seam. You furrowed your brows as you looked down to watch him, his eyes closed as he tugged you closer to his mouth. His tongue swirled around your bud, over and over, making you pulse with each passing swirl. You gripped onto his hair to keep him there, guiding him as his tongue dipped lower to your entrance to drink up your arousal with a sinful groan. 

“So fucking sweet,” he praised, pulling back to marvel at your swollen pussy with a look of awe. “I need you on the bed.” 

You nodded, springing into action and practically leaping into his king-sized mattress. You crawled back on your elbows until you reached the pillows, watching as Javier finally kicked off his jeans, finally taking in the full sight of his cock. You actually began to salivate at the sight of him, long and thick and angry with need. 

He stood at the edge of the bed, eyes locked on you as he stroked himself with his fist. You slipped your hand down to your clit, rubbing it in time with his lazy strokes, and quickly realized you could get off from this alone. 

“That’s it,” he husked. “Show me how you touch yourself when you think of me.”

You moaned, slipping your fingers lower to curl inside yourself. There was something so holy about this sinful act. The way he watched you, the worship and reverence in his stare as you got off to the sight of him getting off to the sight of you. All of it was holy, and all of it was forbidden. 

“Good fucking girl,” he praised, the words causing you to pulse around your fingers. 

Javier seemed to have gotten his fill of watching as he climbed onto the bed, making himself at home between your thighs. You slipped your fingers out and moved to law them to the side, but he stopped you, bringing them to his lips to suck them clean while you watched him with a slack jaw. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, brows pinching together. Javier kissed the inside of your palm before setting it down against his cool sheets. 

“Is this how you imagined it?” he asked, kissing your inner thigh. 

“Mmhm,” you hummed, combing back the waves that had fallen across his forehead. Javier keened under your touch as he inched his way back to your center. Locking his eyes with yours, you watched him turn your fantasies into reality—those brown eyes finally meeting yours just as you’d imagined. 

“You taste so good,” he praised, bringing two fingers up to stroke up and down your seam before dipping into your entrance. He met your eyes in a silent confirmation of consent. You nodded eagerly, biting your lip as you tried to steady your breathing. 

Javier let out a soft sigh as he slipped his fingers inside of you, curling them up to press against the spot no man had ever been able to locate before. You moaned, your head falling back against his pillows as he paired his tongue with the perfectly timed thrust of his fingers. 

“Fuck,” you whined, holding him close as he started to suck on your swollen bud, his fingers curling in and out with almost embarrassing ease as you neared your end—the first one you’d ever shared with a sexual partner. “Javi, fuck. You’re gonna make me come.”

He moaned, the sound vibrating against you as he doubled down in his efforts. Your thighs shook, your face crumpled in ecstasy as the thread of tension inside you finally snapped. Javier kept your thighs spread as they threatened to close around his head, his tongue turning gentle as he coaxed you back to earth. 

“That’s the first time someone’s ever made me come,” you panted, guiding him up for a dizzying kiss that tasted of your arousal. Javier’s hands gripped at your hip, guiding your leg to wrap around his waist. 

“Fucking idiots,” he sighed, pressing a kiss over your racing heartbeat. “Their loss.”

You nodded in agreement, your hand cradling the sharp line of his jaw as he focused his mouth on your breast. “I’d…be down for another.”

He laughed, resting his head on your chest. 

“As much as I want to, I think maybe it would be best if we just…didn’t,” he said, lifting his head to look into your eyes. You tried not to pout, to demand that he take as much as he just gave, but all you could do was give him a soft nod. “I want to, believe me. But it would just—“

“Make things more complicated,” you guessed, unable to look him in the eye. “I know.”

He tutted at you, turning your chin so that you were forced to face him. “I loved tonight, loved doing this with you. Under any other circumstance, I’d be happy to keep you in this bed for days, but—“

“It’s okay,” you managed, giving him a sad smile. “I’m glad we had this, at least.”

He nodded, resting his head against your chest again.

“I should go,” you said, the lump in your throat roughening the sound of your voice. 

“You don’t have to,” he replied, placing a tender kiss to your chest. 

“I know, but…it’s torture staying,” you confessed, trying your best not to cry. “Like flaunting food in front of someone starving.”

Javier sat back on his knees, smoothing his palms up and down your still-spread thighs. “I’m not…trying to torture you.”

“I know,” you whispered. “Still, it’s…”

“Yeah,” he agreed on the unspoken. “It is.”

You let out a huff of a chuckle, hoping it would mask the ache in your chest threatening to consume you. “Guess I’ll see you in class, then?”

“Front and center, I hope,” he smiled, backing off the bed to give you space to get up and get dressed. “And no skirts, for Christ’s sake.”

“Mm, suddenly skirts are all I own,” you joked, shooting him a more genuine smile from over your shoulder as you slipped into your leggings. 

“Cruel woman,” he chided playfully, watching you from his seat at the foot of the bed. “Cruel, beautiful woman.”

After Javier led you out of the building through the back exit to avoid Jeannie, you bid him an awkward farewell, holding in your tears until you were in your car. You spent the commute from his place to yours sobbing over a man you could never have, one that was everything you ever wanted. You made a pit stop at a gas station to buy some comfort snacks and an ice-ee in hopes of soothing the ache in your chest, but the truth was there was no escaping the impact of Javier Peña on your soft, longing heart. 

You only hoped the recovery would be quick, the wound of losing him before you ever had him fading into an almost unnoticeable scar on your heart. 

[worldlxvlys]

loving me

dwb! chris x reader

warnings: smut (pls don’t read if you don’t like), cursing, cream pie, p in v, mutual masturbation

a/n: i know y’all have been wanting this, so here she is ! hope you like it <333

part 2 of every word

when we got to the bathroom, chris began to draw up the bath water.

i sat on the sink while i watched him check the temperature of the water.

he literally makes everything look hot.

feeling my gaze on him, he turned around and walked towards me.

“what? why are you lookin at me like that?” he asked.

my smile widened, turning into a grin. “no reason, i just love you” i said, turning bashful.

he smiled at that, moving to stand between my legs.

his eyes scanned my face, taking in my features as he reached up to cup my cheek.

“i love you too” he whispered, before placing his lips on mine in a sweet kiss.

my hands found their way around his shoulders, and my legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to me.

the feeling of his body flush against mine was intoxicating.

the rush that i got when chris’s lips touched mine was better than any drug chris has ever brought to me.

and while kissing chris like this was thrilling, it was also sweet and soothing.

he gently ran his hands along the sides of my waist, as his lips moved perfectly against mine.

he gently tugged on the hem of my shirt, prompting me to separate our lips and pull it off.

as i unhooked my bra, chris pulled his hoodie off. our pants and underwear followed quickly after.

once the water reached a reasonable height, he stopped it from running and helped me into the tub.

once he sat down, he pulled me down onto his lap and rested his head in the crook of my neck.

his hands grabbed my ass, lightly massaging and rubbing it.

i let out a sigh of content, basking in the pure bliss of the moment. he placed a kiss on my shoulder and took one of my tits in his mouth.

he never broke eye contact with me as his tongue swirled around my nipple and his hand moved to my pussy, running through my folds.

“fuck, chris” i sighed out as my head fell back.

he pushed a finger in, slowly moving it in and out of me.

i wrapped my hand around his dick, slowly stroking him.

“fuckkk” he moaned into my nipple.

he added in another finger, keeping his pace steady.

“yeah, chris. feels so fucking good” i gasped out, eyes screwing shut.

he pulled his mouth away from my chest, looking up at me. “you’re so fucking gorgeous ma, taking my fingers so well” he whispered, before pushing his lips to mine again.

our tongues explored each other’s mouths as we moaned into them.

“let’s see how well you take me” he said he reached down between us.

he took my hand and used it to run his tip through my folds, making us both moan out.

he placed his forehead on mine as i sunk down on his dick.

“shitttt ma” “holy fuck chris”

his hands grabbed my ass as he slowly fucked up into me.

the sound of the water splashing and our skin slapping against each other’s bounced off of the bathroom walls.

his thrusts were slow, but deep, making the moment that much more intense. his eyes never left mine as he continued to whisper sweet nothings to me.

between the intimacy and the immense amount of pleasure, i couldn’t help but keep clenching around him.

“o-oh my god” he whimpered out as his pace began to increase.

my eyes screwed shut and my eyebrows furrowed, as my head dropped to his shoulder.

“f-fuck chris, holy shit” it was almost too much to handle.

he continued to pound into me, his pace relentless.

my nails dug into his arms, leaving red crescents on his skin.

i began to clench around him again, signaling that i was approaching my orgasm.

“you close, baby? look at me, wanna see that gorgeous face when you come on my cock” i picked up my head.

i took in the loving look in his eyes and immediately came undone on top of him.

“fuckkkk chris, i’m cumming !” i screamed as i squeezed my legs around him, hips twitching.

chris followed behind me, moaning into my ear as his thrusts grew sloppy.

“o-ohhhhh fuck ma” he groaned as he shot his load into me, making me moan.

we both just sat there, heavy breathing as we tried to catch our breath and recover.

he pulled me closer to him, resting his chin on my shoulder.

“thank you for loving me” he whispered, lightly rubbing circles onto my back.

i pulled my head back, making eye contact with him.

“of course, baby. you deserve it” i gave him a quick kiss on his lips and smiled at him.

——————

hope you like ittttt :)

dwb! chris masterlist

main masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @frankeesturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @wh0szjoanna @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson

[corrupte3d-mindz]

Red Carpet Rush

Cillian Murphy x Wife Reader

Summary: Cillian and his wife get dressed and are about to leave but then temptation takes over.

Wordcount: 6.1k

Warnings:

Straight up smut with a plot but the plot is messy especially in the first act of it, but once the afterparty hits, that’s where the good shits at and there’s a lot of oral, especially for the female lolz, switch! Cillian, slightly perverted Cillian if you squint, breeding kink?…, messy towards the end?!,unsafe sex, f! overstimulating, m! & f! oral receiving and giving, handjobs, fingering, p in v, soft/dirty talk, aftercare.

Cillian adjusted his bow tie while looking at himself in the bathroom mirror, exhaling slowly as he contemplated the evening ahead. While the honor of a nomination thrilled him, the prospect of mingling at yet another social event filled him with a familiar sense of dread. Lost in his thoughts, a sudden, captivating sound broke through: the distinct click of heels on the tile floor. An intimate shiver coursed through him, stirring something deep within.

He turned, and there she was. His wife, a vision of elegance and allure, stood before him. The black lace gloves caressed her slender arms, the pearls he had gifted her gleamed softly against her skin, and then his eyes found the pièce de résistance—the dress. It clung to her curves in all the right places, a tantalizing blend of sophistication and seduction. His heart quickened, and a primal desire flared within him.

"Christ, love," he murmured, his voice thick with a blend of admiration and lust. "You look... absolutely breathtaking."

She smiled, a knowing glint in her eye as she sauntered closer, the sway of her hips almost hypnotic. Cillian's pulse raced as he reached out, his fingers grazing the delicate lace of her gloves.

"These gatherings might be a bore," he whispered, his Irish accent adding a lyrical cadence to his words, "but you, my dear, make them worth every bloody second."

She chuckled softly, leaning in to brush her lips against his cheek. "Just try to behave yourself tonight," she teased, her breath warm against his skin.

His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled her closer, his hands resting on her waist. "No promises," he breathed, his lips hovering near her ear. "Especially when you look like that. It's going to be a challenge keeping my hands off you."

She bit her lip, a playful glint in her eye. "Then I suppose we'll have to make the most of our time before we leave, won't we?"

Cillian gave her a perverted grin, he checked his watch the time reading five hours before the whole event. The look of hunger and absolute desire. Cillian’s fingers gently brushed her cheek, his touch feather-light but electrifying. He cupped her face with a tenderness that belied the fire in his gaze. Without a word, he leaned in, capturing her lips in an insanely intense and deep kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of years of shared moments, whispered secrets, and unspoken promises. His lips moved against hers with a practiced ease, as though he were memorizing every contour, every curve.

She responded in kind, her hands finding their way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in the soft curls at his hairline. The world outside ceased to exist, the impending awards ceremony forgotten in the haze of their shared passion. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more demanding. Cillian’s hands slid down to her waist, his grip firm but gentle as he lifted her effortlessly. He carried her to the bathroom counter, the cool marble contrasting with the heat of their bodies. He set her down with a careful precision, not breaking the kiss for even a second. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, drawing him closer. Cillian’s hands roamed her sides, tracing the lines of her dress with a reverence that made her shiver.

Breaking the kiss, he leaned back slightly, his breath coming in ragged pants. “God, yer beautiful,” he murmured, his Irish accent thick with emotion. His eyes raked over her, taking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and swollen lips. “Every time I look at ye, it feels like the first time.”

She smiled, a soft, knowing smile that spoke volumes. “You always know how to make me feel special, Cill,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of their hearts.

He kissed her again, softer this time, a promise of things to come. “I can’t help it,” he replied, his lips brushing against hers with every word. “Ye drive me mad, in the best way possible.” He trailed kisses along her jawline, down to the sensitive spot behind her ear. She tilted her head, giving him better access, a soft moan escaping her lips.

He stepped closer, his fingers brushing against the silky fabric of her dress, sending a shiver down her spine. His breath was hot against her neck as he leaned in, his lips grazing her ear. "Yer lookin' ravishin', love," he murmured, his Irish accent adding a melodic lilt to his words. She turned her head slightly, catching his gaze with a playful smile, knowing full well the effect she had on him.

Cillian's hand moved to her back, the heat of his touch seeping through the thin material. He took his time, savoring the moment as his fingers found the zipper. With deliberate slowness, he began to pull it down, the sound of the zipper echoing in the room. Her breath hitched, and she bit her lip, feeling the fabric loosen and fall away from her shoulders. As the dress slipped down, revealing the delicate black lace straps of her lingerie, Cillian couldn't suppress a low, throaty moan. "Jesus Christ, darlin'," he breathed, his eyes darkening with desire. "Yer pullin' me leg, wearin' this for tonight..”

Her body reacted instantly, heat pooling low in her belly. She faced him her lips slightly parted in surprise. "Cillian," she breathed, a mix of admonishment and need in her tone. But he was relentless, his hands sliding around her waist, pulling her flush against him. His hands slid down to the bottom of her dress then reaching in.

He hooked his fingers around the front of her panties, pulling them down just enough to gain access. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though he had all the time in the world. She felt her breath catch in her throat, her body already responding to his touch. The intimacy of the moment, the way he looked at her, made her feel completely bare, exposed in the best possible way. As his thumb traced over her clit, his strokes were uneven, unpredictable. He kept her guessing, the rhythm changing just as she thought she could anticipate the next move. Her hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more pressure, more friction. He chuckled softly, the sound a low rumble in his chest.

“Ye like that, love?” he asked, his voice a mere whisper against her ear. The question was rhetorical; he knew the answer.

She could only nod, biting her lip to stifle a moan. His thumb pressed down a little harder, drawing circles that made her legs tremble. His other hand, resting on her thigh, squeezed gently, grounding her in the moment. She could feel the roughness of his palm, a stark contrast to the gentleness of his touch.

“Ye’re so responsive,” he continued, his voice laced with admiration. “I love seein’ ye like this.”

Her breath hitched as he slipped a finger inside her, the sensation both shocking and electrifying. He moved with a slow, torturous pace, curling his finger just enough to hit the right spot. She gasped, her hands clutching the bathroom counter beneath her. He added another finger, stretching her slightly, the feeling both overwhelming and exquisite. Cillian’s thumb continued its uneven strokes on her clit, building her arousal higher and higher. She felt the heat pooling in her belly, her body tightening in anticipation of release. His fingers moved in and out of her, the rhythm maddeningly slow. Each thrust, each curl of his fingers, was precise, designed to drive her wild.

“God, Cillian,” she breathed, her voice shaky. “Don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, darlin’,” he replied, his tone affectionate yet commanding.

He increased the pace slightly, his fingers moving faster now, his thumb pressing down harder on her clit. She could feel the pressure building, her body coiling tighter and tighter. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, and she cried out, her hands flying to his shoulders for support.

“Ye’re close, aren’t ye?” he whispered, his breath hot against her neck. “I can feel ye tremblin’.”

She nodded frantically, her head thrown back, her mouth open in a silent scream. His fingers were relentless, driving her towards the edge with every stroke. She could feel herself teetering on the brink, the world narrowing down to the points where their bodies connected.

“Come for me, love,” he commanded softly, his voice like velvet. “Come on my fingers”

His words were her undoing. She shattered around him, her body convulsing as the orgasm ripped through her. Her cries filled the room, her hands gripping his shoulders with desperate strength. He kept moving his fingers, drawing out her pleasure, prolonging the ecstasy. As the waves of her climax subsided, she collapsed against him, her body spent and trembling. He withdrew his fingers slowly, carefully, and brought them to his lips, tasting her essence. The sight was almost enough to make her come again.

“Ye taste divine,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “I could do this all night.”

She smiled weakly, her body still humming with aftershocks. “You have no idea what you do to me,” she whispered.

He lay down beside her, pulling her close. “Oh, I think I do, love,” he replied, his eyes twinkling. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

However Cillian wasn’t done, lord she didn’t know what was coming to her.

As she leaned against the bathroom counter, her eyes focused intently on the mirror. Turning her back to the Cillian, she couldn't have anticipated the magnetic pull that Cillian always seemed to exert on her, a force of nature she was helpless to resist. Cillian stood just a few steps away, his eyes locked onto her reflection. He watched her with a mixture of admiration and raw desire, his gaze tracing the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts, and the delicate lines of her neck. His eyes darkened as they moved lower, noticing the damp spot forming at the crotch of her panties.

"Love," he began, his voice thick with his Irish brogue and roughened by lust, "I can still see yer cunt drippin' through yer panties...still want more you needy slut..”

He moved closer, his hands finding her waist with practiced ease, pulling her against him. His touch was firm yet tender, the grip of a man who knew every inch of her body and reveled in its responses. He loved her hips, their gentle dips, and the promise of life they had carried. She had given him two beautiful children, and the thought of a third stirred something primal within him. Her breath hitched as she felt his hands slide around her body, cupping her hips. The heat of his palms seeped through the thin fabric of her dress, making her shiver in anticipation.

"Cillian," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, laden with need and anticipation.

"Shh, darlin'," he murmured against her ear, his breath hot and tantalizing. "Let me take care of ya."

His hands slipped under the hem of her dress, pushing it up and over her hips, exposing her to the cool air. She gasped, her body arching into his touch. Cillian's fingers found the edge of her panties once more, pulling them down slowly, savoring every inch of skin that was revealed like he didn’t just see it a minute ago.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he groaned, his voice a husky whisper. His fingers slid through her folds, gathering her slickness before circling her clit. Her hips bucked against his hand, seeking more of his touch.

Her head fell back against his shoulder, her eyes closing as she surrendered to the sensations he was creating. Cillian's other hand moved to her breast, kneading the soft flesh through her dress, his thumb brushing over her nipple.

"Cillian, please," she begged, her voice trembling with need. "I need you."

"Aye, love," he murmured, his lips brushing against her neck. "I know."

He turned her around, lifting her onto the counter. Her legs spread instinctively, making room for him between her thighs. He knelt, his eyes locking onto hers as he kissed his way up her inner thigh.

"Yer gonna feel so good, darlin'," he promised, his voice a seductive purr.

His tongue flicked out, tasting her, and she cried out, her hands gripping the edge of the counter. He licked and sucked at her clit, his fingers teasing her entrance. Her body trembled, overwhelmed by the pleasure he was giving her.

"Fuck, Cillian," she gasped, her hips grinding against his face.

He groaned, the vibrations sending shivers through her. His fingers slid into her, filling her, and she moaned loudly. He curled his fingers, hitting that spot inside her that made her see stars.

"That's it, love," he murmured against her clit. "Come for me."

She shattered, her orgasm washing over her in waves. Her body tensed and shook, her cries echoing in the bathroom. Cillian didn't stop, prolonging her pleasure until she was a quivering, breathless mess. Cillian looked up at her from her messy cunt with a glimmer of mischief.

“I think you can come again..”

That’s a chill down her spine, knowing that Cillian always had something up his sleeve, especially when it came to pleasuring her. What in the world was he gonna make her go through. A lot.. there was going to be a mess happening in this bathroom… He began with a kiss, a soft press of his lips against her inner thigh, teasing and testing her patience. His tongue followed, tracing patterns on her skin, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. When he finally reached her center, his tongue darted out, a light flick against her most sensitive spot that made her gasp.

"Cill," she moaned, her voice a breathless plea that only spurred him on. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her steady as his tongue delved deeper, exploring and tasting her with a fervent intensity. He alternated between slow, languid strokes and quick, teasing flicks, his rhythm designed to drive her to the edge and keep her there.

Her hips bucked against his mouth, seeking more, but Cillian was relentless in his control. He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as he watched her. "Not yet, darlin'," he whispered, his voice rough with need. "I want t' see ye come apart for me." His thumb joined the fray, finding her clit with unerring precision. He rubbed it in slow, deliberate circles, the pressure just enough to push her higher but not enough to tip her over the edge. Her moans grew louder, filling the small bathroom with the sound of her pleasure.

"Cillian, please," she begged, her voice breaking on the words. Her body was a live wire, every nerve ending alight with sensation. He took pity on her then, increasing the pace of his thumb while his tongue continued its relentless assault. The combination was too much, too intense, and she felt herself hurtling towards the edge. Her climax hit her like a tidal wave, crashing over her with a force that left her breathless and trembling. Cillian held her through it, his movements never faltering as he guided her through the waves of pleasure. When she finally came down, he pressed a soft kiss to her thigh, his eyes filled with a quiet satisfaction.

It was his turn now…

With a slow, deliberate motion, he undid his belt with one hand, a practiced move that made her heart race. The sight of him undressing, so confident and controlled, always had a primal effect on her, stirring something deep and animalistic within. His fingers deftly unbuttoned his pants, the fabric slipping down his hips as he reached into his suit trousers. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, her breath hitching as she watched him pull out his already hard cock. The sight of him, so ready and eager, sent a wave of heat through her body.

"God, you always look so good when you take my cock," he murmured, his Irish accent wrapping around the words, making them all the more intoxicating. His voice was a low rumble, filled with a mix of lust and affection that made her pulse quicken.

She got off the counter and knelt before him, her eyes locked onto his throbbing cock. It stood proud and ready, glistening with pre-come that dripped tantalizingly from the slit. Her fingers wrapped around his length, the warmth of her touch making him groan softly. She marveled at how beautiful he looked, every inch of him demanding to be worshiped. Her thumb moved in slow, deliberate circles around the sensitive tip, drawing shaky breaths from Cillian. Occasionally, she traced the slit with precise precision, a motion that sent electric shivers down his spine and made his entire body tremble.

"Fuck, love, just like that," he muttered, his Irish brogue rough with desire.

She glanced up at him, her gaze meeting his. The raw need in his eyes spurred her on. She carefully took him into her mouth, just the tip at first, savoring the salty taste of him on her tongue. Cillian's hand reached out, gently grabbing a fistful of her hair. He was careful not to mess it up, but they both knew they had time to fix it if things got a bit wild.

"Christ," he breathed, his voice low and strained. "You're gonna be the death of me, y'know that?"

She responded with a soft hum, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure coursing through him. Slowly, she took him deeper, inch by inch, until he hit the back of her throat. His grip on her hair tightened, but he remained gentle, not wanting to hurt her. Her lips formed a perfect seal around him, and she began to bob her head, setting a steady rhythm that had him on the edge of control. His hips bucked involuntarily, and he had to force himself to stay still, to let her set the pace.

"Fuck, love, you're incredible," he rasped, his accent thickening with each word. "So bloody perfect."

She moved her hand to the base of his cock, stroking in tandem with her mouth, while her other hand cupped his balls, gently massaging them. Cillian's head fell back, his eyes closing as he surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure. Every so often, she'd pull back, just to the tip, and swirl her tongue around the head, teasing him until he was a trembling mess beneath her. Then, she'd take him deep again, her cheeks hollowing with the effort.

"You're too good at this, darlin'," he managed to say between gasps. "Gonna make me lose my mind."

She pulled back for a moment, her hand continuing to pump his length as she looked up at him. "That's the idea, love," she whispered, her voice sultry and filled with mischief. Cillian's breath hitched at her words, and he tightened his grip on her hair, guiding her back to his cock. "Then don't stop," he urged, his voice a low growl.

She obliged, taking him back into her mouth with renewed vigor. Her head bobbed faster now, her tongue working magic on his sensitive flesh. He was close, so close, and she could tell by the way his thighs tensed and his breathing became erratic.His hand slipped from her hair to her shoulder, gripping it tightly as he felt the familiar heat pooling in his groin. "Gonna cum, love," he warned, his voice strained. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum."

She didn't falter, her mouth and hands working in perfect harmony to push him over the edge. With a final, shuddering gasp, he exploded, his cum spilling into her mouth in hot, thick spurts. She swallowed every drop, her eyes never leaving his face as he rode out his orgasm. When he finally came down from his high, she released him gently, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his now-softening cock before standing up and facing the mirror. Cillian was still panting heavily, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath.

Without a word, they both knew it was time to leave, but an electric current of unspoken desire lingered between them. As he fixed his bow tie in the mirror, he caught her reflection, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and the residue of their passionate encounter.

"Ready, love?" he asked, his Irish accent adding a lyrical lilt to his words.

She nodded, her lips curving into a knowing smile. They stepped out, and the ride to the Oscars was filled with a charged silence. Cillian's mind wandered, replaying the moments they'd just shared. His eyes traced the outline of her legs, imagining the softness of her skin under his fingers. He reached over, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, and she responded with a mischievous glance that promised more to come. The ceremony was a whirlwind of lights, cameras, and applause. Cillian's nomination had already put them in the spotlight, but the electricity between them added an extra spark to their evening. When his name was announced as the winner, he stood up, the room erupting in applause. As he made his way to the stage, he cast a glance back at her, the pride in her eyes filling him with warmth.

As the night progressed, they mingled with other celebrities, but their connection remained unbroken. They exchanged glances across the room, each one a silent promise. Finally, as the evening drew to a close, they slipped away, eager to return to the privacy of their home. Back in the car, Cillian's hand found its way to her thigh, his fingers drawing lazy circles on her skin. She shivered at his touch, her body already anticipating what was to come. They barely made it through the door before their lips met in a fervent kiss, the intensity of their need taking over. He pressed her against the wall, his hands roaming over her body, reacquainting themselves with every curve and contour.

"Couldn't stop thinkin' about ye all night," he murmured against her neck, his breath hot and uneven.

Cillian chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest as he moved them both onto their bed. His cock was already making a massive tent in his pants, a testament to his intense desire for her. She could feel it throbbing against her thigh, a constant reminder of the hunger that simmered between them.

"Baby, you looked so fuckin' good up there," she murmured.

His hands roamed over her body, tracing the curves he knew so well. She shivered under his touch, her own arousal mirroring his. Their eyes locked, and the connection between them felt almost tangible, a living, breathing entity that demanded attention. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of need, of passion, of a love that consumed them both. She responded eagerly, her fingers threading through his hair as she pulled him closer. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mix of desire and the faint hint of whiskey from the after-party.

Cillian's hands moved to the zipper of her dress, slowly lowering it to reveal the smooth expanse of her back. He trailed kisses down her spine, each one igniting a fire that burned hotter and hotter. She arched against him, her body craving more of his touch.

"Ye drive me mad, y'know that?" he whispered against her skin, his breath hot and tantalizing.

She let out a soft moan, the sound sending a jolt of arousal straight to his groin. He moved her so she was beneath him, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. His hands slid under the dress, pushing it up and over her head, leaving her in nothing but her lacy undergarments. Cillian's breath was heavy, almost ragged, as his hands snaked towards her black lace panties. His fingers trembled with anticipation, a testament to his barely contained desire. As he reached the delicate strap that curved around her hip, he paused, savoring the moment, his eyes drinking in every inch of her form.

With a careful, deliberate movement, he hooked his right pointer finger around the strap. The lace was soft against his skin, a stark contrast to the intensity of his need. He tugged gently, the fabric yielding to his touch. He felt the tension in his own body mirrored in hers as he carefully removed the whole thing, the black lace sliding down her legs and finally off her feet.

He took in the sight before him, his heart pounding in his chest. God, she was so fucking beautiful, especially her dripping cunt, glistening in the dim light of their bedroom. His breath hitched, and he let out a low, reverent, “Fuckin’ hell…”

His voice was thick with awe and lust, the Irish lilt making the words sound even more intimate. He knelt between her legs, his eyes never leaving her face. He could see the desire burning in her eyes, matching his own. The connection between them was electric, a living, breathing thing that pulsed with every heartbeat. Slowly, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of her thigh. Her skin was warm, her scent intoxicating. He trailed kisses upwards, each one a promise of the pleasure to come. She shivered under his touch, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

“Ye’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, love,” he murmured against her skin, his voice low and husky. “Can’t get enough of ye.”

With a low growl, he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from her dripping cunt. The scent of her arousal filled his senses, driving him wild with desire. He could hear the raggedness of his own breath, could feel the blood rushing through his veins. He was consumed by the need to taste her, to feel her slick heat against his tongue. But he held himself back, his self-control warring with his primal instincts. He knew he needed to take things slow, to savor every moment with her. With a deep breath, he pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting hers with a fierce intensity.

"Lie back for me, love," he whispered, his voice a gentle command laced with affection.

She complied, reclining onto the bed as he positioned himself between her legs. Without another word, he leaned in, pressing a series of soft, reverent kisses along her inner thighs. Each touch was a testament to his love and desire, a promise of the pleasure to come. His hands gently caressed her hips, holding her steady as he lowered his head to her sloppy dripping cunt. He began with slow, tender licks, his tongue exploring her folds with a gentle curiosity. The taste of her, the scent of her arousal, it drove him wild. He couldn't help but let out a low groan, the sound vibrating against her sensitive skin.

"Fuckin' hell," he muttered against her, the words barely audible but filled with raw desire.

His movements were unhurried, deliberate. He wanted to savor every moment, to make her feel cherished and adored. His tongue circled her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to draw soft moans from her lips. He relished in the sounds she made, each one a testament to his effect on her.

"You're so good to me, Cillian," she breathed, her hands threading through his hair, urging him closer.

He responded by increasing the intensity of his ministrations, his tongue moving with a fervor that matched the pounding of his heart. He could feel her hips bucking against him, her body trembling with the pleasure he was giving her. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her steady as he continued his worship. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, and he knew she was close. He focused on her clit, alternating between flicks of his tongue and gentle suction, driving her higher and higher. He wanted nothing more than to see her fall apart, to know that he was the one who brought her to this peak.

When she finally came, it was with a cry of his name, her body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed over her. He didn't stop, didn't let up, riding out her orgasm until she was a quivering, sated mess beneath him. He pressed a final, gentle kiss to her sloppy cunt before moving up to lie beside her. He gathered her in his arms, holding her close as she came down from her high. Cillian's eyes darkened with desire as he looked at her. His breath hitched, and his pulse quickened, the raw need evident in his gaze. He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear, and whispered in a voice thick with longing, "I need you, darlin'."

She felt the heat of his words and the shiver of anticipation it sent down her spine. Her heart pounded in her chest as she leaned into him, her body responding to his unspoken desire. She reached around him, her fingers deftly undoing the zipper of his pants. The urgency of her movements matched the thrum of his heartbeat. As she freed him from the confines of his trousers, Cillian let out a low, throaty growl. The sound was primal, filled with a hunger that spoke of how deeply he needed her. He captured her lips in a fierce, passionate kiss, his hands roaming over her body, feeling every curve, every inch of her that drove him wild with desire.

Her hands moved with purpose, stroking him, feeling the heat and hardness that pulsed with his need. He broke the kiss, his breath ragged, and looked into her eyes, his own filled with a mix of love and desperation. "You're driving me crazy," he murmured, his Irish lilt adding a melodic quality to his words.

She smiled, a mix of affection and mischief dancing in her eyes. "I know," she replied, her voice soft and teasing. "And I love it."

Cillian's hands moved to her hips, guiding her against him. The friction of her body against his sent waves of pleasure through him, each touch igniting the fire that burned within. He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear once more. "I'm gonna make you scream my name, darlin'." Just then, Cillian gently and carefully slipping just an inch in her. Watching her movements and noises she made by being caught of guard. Then he bottomed out in her. The noises she made were like music to his ears.

“F-fuck your still so tight..you make me want to ruin that tight little hole of yours so bad”

As he begins to thrust, his movements are measured, synchronized with the rhythm of their bodies intertwining. Though typically reserved, his restraint is tested in this moment of raw vulnerability. Unable to contain the overwhelming sensations coursing through him, a low, guttural moan escapes his lips, betraying the depths of his pleasure. His breath becomes ragged, each exhale a symphony of ecstasy and longing.

“I saw the way you were lookin’ at me while I was up there givin’ that speech..” he paused, “You dirty fuckin’ slut..”

Cillian shuttered slightly, even though he’s rammed his cock in his wife’s cunt many times over but it still has not gotten old and he still cannot keep his composure as much as he wants to however a dominant side tends come out on certain days and in certain occasions, and this was that occasion.

“F-fuck your still so tight..you make me want to ruin that tight little hole of yours so bad”

He started to slowly and precariously thrust into her, making sure every single moment his hips collided with hers that it was perfection. His breath slowly started to crack and shutter. He was such a mess anytime he got his hands on her didn’t matter what situation, it didn’t matter aware. He couldn’t keep his mouth shut, however, he was learning composure tonight it was her turn to be the thoughtless slut.

“Oh…I feel ye’ fuckin’ twitchin’ on it..love..”

His hand snaked up and around her perfect body, to the front of her dripping cunt. His thumb finding its way to her clit and beginning to rub uneven and broken circles around her clit, making her practically live on her toes just from this touch he was providing her.

“C-Cill~” She said while practically whimpering and moaning.

He smiled while barely keeping his composure. He was shivering, shaking, and practically drooling he never got used to this feeling, and he never would. It was always an intimate feeling that they both shared. “Fu-fuck you’re so perfect when you take my cock, love..”

Cillian started to speed up his thumb on her clit, he could and feel her coming close to cumming. He thrust becoming more fast deeper and more sloppy.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ like it don’t you? You’re such a a slut..”

He sped up his thumb movements on her clit, while his hips were thrusting as fast as he could without physically passing out. When she finally came, it was with a scream that echoed through the room, her body shaking with the force of her climax. Cillian followed soon after, his own release hitting him like a freight train. He groaned her name, his body tensing as he spilled into her, the pleasure overwhelming him.

They collapsed together in a mess of sweat, bodily fluids, and love. Such a beautiful site to see truly. As the intensity of their passionate embrace begins to wane, Cillian tenderly guides her to the warmth and comfort of their bed. His movements are slow and deliberate, his touch gentle yet firm as he ensures she feels supported and cared for every step of the way. With a soft smile and a reassuring squeeze of her hand, he settles her onto the soft mattress, a sanctuary of peace and intimacy.

As they lay side by side, the warmth of their bodies radiating against each other, Cillian's hands begin to explore her skin with a tender reverence. His touch is gentle yet purposeful, his fingers tracing the contours of her body with an intimate familiarity that speaks of years spent in each other's embrace.

"Are you okay, love?" Cillian's voice was low and soothing, laced with genuine concern as he searched her eyes for any sign of discomfort or distress.

She nodded softly, her fingers intertwining with his as she squeezed his hand reassuringly. "I'm fine, Cillian," she replied, her voice warm and affectionate. "Just a bit tired, but in the best possible way."

Cillian's heart swelled with love for her, his chest tightening with a mixture of tenderness and desire. He leaned in to press a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin as he breathed in the scent of her hair. "You were incredible, as always," he murmured, his words filled with admiration and reverence. He shifted closer to her, his arm wrapping protectively around her waist as he pulled her into a gentle embrace. She nestled against him, her head resting against his chest as she listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. They lay there together in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow of their shared intimacy. The steady beat of their hearts a comforting reminder of the bond that binds them together as one.

Author’s Notes:

This was in the backlogs of my drafts it’s like the backrooms over here man. It’s scary like this was supposed to be for the Oscars, also I didn’t think the last smut I wrote for Cillian would be the most liked post I have..but here we are. I like attention, I’m an attention whore. But also a slut for Cillian himself..fuck I love that man.

If the male scene seems off like cause she’s sitting on the counter then perceiving to give him head just ignore that part. I couldn’t write it any other different way. Just let my mind do the way it does it. Let’s just say she’s on the floor now like on her knees. Also, yes, I do use both words ‘Cum’ and ‘come’ both of them are habits when I use more than the other, but sometimes they merge depending on who is saying it because one can have more of an accent than the other and if you notice it then I’ve done my job.

Maybe it’s messy in the end but how cares? I love messy smut and so should you!

Credit for the masterlist banner: Myself! I finally made a crap ton of them on Canva!

Credit for the little sparkle smol divider: Cafekitsune

[cobaltperun]

Woe out the Storm (14) - Eye of the Tiger

Wednesday Addams x female Reader

Summary: It took some time, but eventually you came to realize only Wednesday Addams could look at the raging storm of chaos and destruction and make a home out of it. Only she could listen to the cacophony of the roaring thunder and hear a melody.

Story warnings: Wednesday Addams, violence, slow burn

Story Masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part (Season 1 finale)

Word count: 4.5k

-It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight-

You took several deep breaths, red eyes glaring at Laurel and what you assumed was revived Crackstone. For a moment you felt your lightning growing stronger, almost overwhelming you, threatening to burst through. You’ve spent too much time in lightning form to get across the lake and you could feel control you had slipping as the colors around you began fading. You knew one thing, you needed to finish this fast.

Something red caught your attention and you looked closely to see a gash across Wednesday’s palm. There was dried blood on the side of her head as well. “Sorry I’m late,” you said as the two of you stood up and faced Laurel and Crackstone.

Laurel smirked lightly and walked over to the wall. “I didn’t think you’d show up Y/N, with the lake in your way and your fear of water, but, I prepared just in case,” she said and you saw a wide hose near the wall she was heading toward.

“Shit!” you didn’t need to think long to understand what that meant. You threw your knife toward her, only to suddenly feel strong pressure keeping you from moving.

You gritted your teeth as Crackstone lifted his staff, holding you and Wednesday in place. “You feral beasts have stood in my way for too long! Burn!” he hollered, sending a torrent of flames toward you and Wednesday.

You could have zapped away, freed yourself from his hold, but Wednesday was right behind you.

“Go,” Wednesday ordered you, yet you didn’t listen, you just surrounded the two of you with your lightning, weakening the flames and clashing with them. The heat was similar, red flames colliding with darker, but still red, lightning, made it almost impossible to withstand the heat.

“Too close,” you focused on expanding your lightning, on pushing It away from Wednesday and you until the energy within two forces of nature exploded and pushed the two of you and Crackstone back a few steps.

He didn’t look tired, while you just dropped to one knee, feeling the fatigue of staying in control sneak up on you.

“Here, this will cool you down,” Laurel laughed and the stream of water hit you and Wednesday at the same time.

“Salt!” you gasped, realizing it wasn’t just regular water, Laurel raised the salinity of it and likely added something to it to make it stick to your body like the paint did. You dropped down, clenching your fists as you struggled to hold the lightning in.

“Go ahead and discharge Y/N! Oh, sorry, you’d kill Wednesday if you did!” she laughed, soaking everything around you as well, she used up so much water it covered the entire floor up to your wrists.

“She’ll kill you too,” Wednesday threatened, kneeling down next to you, but luckily not touching you.

“Wednesday, run,” you hissed, unsure of how much time you had left until you’d either discharge or, even worse, shift.

“Lucifer’s mistress cannot run, beast,” Crackstone once again raised his staff, pinning the two of you down. “You’ll be buried beneath the stones, your bodies never to be found!” the whips of fire struck the ceiling, making pebbles fall from it as the old, fragile building began shaking under the pressure of his telekinesis and flames.

“Sweet dreams, Wednesday, Y/N,” Laurel taunted you as the two of them made their way outside.

You couldn’t fight it anymore, even if you could, there was no other way.

“You better hope this kills us!” even your voice was changing, growing deeper, more guttural and Wednesday saw you tensing, your body heating up so much steam was starting to come from the water beneath you despite Crackstone’s ability still holding the two of you down.

As the crypt began falling on the two of you, you broke through telekinesis and pulled Wednesday beneath you. Your eyes went from red to orange in a flash, the colors lost their intensity, the dim light became more than enough for you to see, the scent of candles, salt, smoke, of Wednesday, intensified, and you could feel your body shifting.

~X~

She wasn’t sure how much time passed, you pulled her so hard she briefly got dizzy and lost consciousness due to Laurel knocking her out with a shovel. So, Wednesday didn’t know how long ago Laurel and Crackstone left. As Wednesday slowly blinked, still disoriented from the building collapsing on the two of you she heard panting above her, angry, animalistic, no, beastly, breathing combined with low growls and intense buzzing of lightning all around her. Yet she didn’t feel it, she wasn’t electrocuted, it was as if her immediate surroundings were spared from the rage of lightning. And she forced herself to open her eyes, despite the throbbing pain in her head. She was met with the sight from her vision, the one she had when she touched Rowan, of the beast standing above her.

The orange and black fur, the mane, the large, sharp fangs that could easily pierce right through her, the paws that could easily rip someone in two, and the size of the beast… she couldn’t be sure from her position beneath it, but from her estimation it was nearly seven feet tall, and likely twice as long, tail excluded. A magnificent tiger stood above her, standing despite the roof of the building falling right on top of it, protecting her from the fallen debris and certain death. An explosion of lightning from the beast’s, no, your body destroyed everything around Wednesday, turning the stone of the crypt into pebbles and dust. Wednesday coughed at that and you looked down, your orange eyes staring wildly into her own.

How aware were you really? Was Faulkner right? “Y/N?” she tried, gauging your reaction. You growled, baring your teeth, but you didn’t attack her, you just stared down at her as if trying to recognize her. A few moments later Wednesday saw a glimmer of recognition in your eyes and you stepped away from her to make your way to the fallen knife you claimed as your own after Wednesday threw it at you. You bent down, taking it gently between your teeth, with your size you could easily swallow it, instead you went back to Wednesday and, as she sat up a bit, carefully placed the knife on top of her stomach. You nudged her arm toward it in a way that didn’t fit your size, so lightly she barely felt your fur brushing against her. You lay down, just waiting for Wednesday to get it together and get up.

Even in this form you were being you, making Wednesday wonder why you were ever afraid of shifting and losing control. “We need to get back to the school and stop Crackstone and Laurel,” she told you, though she guessed it was futile as you didn’t budge. The lightning coming out of your body wasn’t intense, it was coming out from your feet and tail, and a bit from your eyes and mouth when you opened it, but it didn’t indicate you were completely out of control. At least as far as Faulkner’s diary told her.

She sighed. All the power you had, and it would go to waste because Wednesday wasn’t sure how to direct it and you didn’t know how to either. Yet, as she turned to leave you blocked her path with your head and nudged her back, toward your back. You moved your head back slightly, motioning toward your back and Wednesday wasn’t sure if she was reading you right or not, but she placed her hand on your back, just behind the shoulder blades and you nodded.

“You want me to get on your back?” she asked and you nodded, almost sounding like you just huffed in confirmation.

Was that why you were lying down? So Wednesday could climb on top of you more easily. Because, as much as it annoyed her to admit that, she wouldn’t be able to climb on your back with your current height if you were standing.

With some effort, because you were still a large beast even when you were lying down, she climbed onto your back and grabbed onto your mane, realizing that you were an amur tiger, instead of one of the other subspecies. Wednesday wasn’t sure if grabbing onto your mane would set you off, or if you would get aggressive, but there wasn’t anything else she could hold on to. And from the looks of it you didn’t mind, as you got up and jumped over the remaining walls of the crypt.

Wednesday used to ride on Kitty’s back as a child, but Kitty was more like a house cat compared to you and the force of the jump took her by surprise. Luckily, you stopped, turning your head to check on her.

Ridiculous lightning beast.

At least act like an uncontrollable beast, you were more like an oversized pet than anything else right now.

“I’m fine, go,” she told you and you tilted your head. Was your ability to understand human speech disappearing, because Wednesday was sure you somewhat understood a more complex sentence mere moments ago. She pointed toward Nevermore and before she could even say one word you took off, not sprinting, but still running in the direction she wanted you to.

You reached the lake and Wednesday thought you’d stop, that this was as far as she’d get, with no boat she had no hopes of catching up to Crackstone and Laurel. Her eyes widened when a ball of orange lightning formed ahead of you, and then another further ahead, she watched, her fingers digging into your mane as you created more and more balls of lightning above the lake, and then you jumped on the one closest to you.

The ball dispersed when you touched it, but it was enough for you to jump to the next one, not quite zapping, but moving along the lightning path forming as each lightning ball burst open. The long, powerful jumps, the control, the definitive lack of fear of water, it made her realize you weren’t entirely you in this form. At your core you were still you, but you were driven more by instincts than anything else, you were doing things Wednesday was sure you couldn’t do in your human form.

You landed on the shore with the grace only a cat could have and took a few steps before collapsing.

Wednesday climbed off you and knelt next to your head. “Y/N?” she called your name and you opened your eyes, blinking slowly before yawning. “You did enough,” she told you, and she believed that. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought it was reasonable to assume you used up a lot of energy to get across the lake twice. It wasn’t a small lake either.

You chuffed and nudged her lightly and even though she was running out of time Wednesday placed her hand on top of your head, just feeling the warm fur against her palm. And then, one small, harmless discharge later her hand fell on top of your head.

Your human head.

“What?!” you sat up abruptly, as if suddenly woken up from deep slumber. Maybe you were. You rubbed the top of your head. “Why would you hit me like that?” you whined and looked around. “What the? How did we…?”

Wednesday remained silent, stunned by your inability to remember what happened.

“Did I shift?” you seemed to piece together the only possible way the two of you could have survived a building falling on top of you and then making your way across the lake. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” you looked her over, frantically searching for any injuries.

“Given the size of you you could have torn me in two,” Wednesday deadpanned, somewhat enjoying the way you stopped breathing at that revelation. “You were,” she wasn’t sure what word to use. “I wasn’t in danger,” she settled down on that, telling you what you likely needed to hear the most.

You let your head drop and sighed in relief. “That’s a relief,” you whispered, your body trembling slightly. It was clear to Wednesday that you were exhausted.

“You don’t remember anything?” she just had to ask.

You shook your head. “Bits and pieces at best, and even that is vague,” with a groan you managed to get back to your feet. “We need to get back to school,” you were struggling to even stand, and you still wanted to keep going?

Wednesday sighed and put your arm over her shoulders. “Come on,” you smiled apologetically and began walking with her help. Luckily, it didn’t take long for you to recover your energy. It must have been the shifting and switching between two and four legs that left you weaker than usual.

~X~

By the time you were about halfway to Nevermore you could walk on your own, which you figured was lucky, because you heard a werewolf howling and not all of them were friendly during full moon, especially during full blood moon. And you were still recovering, unsure if your lightning would be strong enough to deal with a werewolf.

You weren’t ready for a fight, but hopefully by the time you reach Nevermore you would be able to help Wednesday.

You heard the rustling of the leaves before you saw him and you couldn’t help but curse your luck as Tyler came from behind a tree.

“Laurel said you were dead,” the harmless, even kind of shy, barista was gone. All you saw was the killer terrorizing Jericho over the past few months.

“You must have been disappointed,” Wednesday glared at him.

“I was. I didn’t get to keep my promise and bring you the beast’s head. Now I can kill you both together,” he approached, walking like a predator that found his prey.

“This won’t end well for you,” Wednesday threatened, standing between him and you, and if she wasn’t standing between you and a monster that ripped people apart you would feel very happy. The problem was, she was standing between you and a monster that could rip her apart.

Lightning crackled around you and you were ready to move the moment Tyler did something, but you weren’t ready for his eyes bulging in an almost comical way. Truly, seeing the transformation take place was as horrifying as it was hilarious as his body grew and burst out of his clothes. Just how many articles of clothing did he ruin over the past few months?

Tyler roared and swiped his clawed hand up. He no longer needed Wednesday alive and she was still injured. So you grabbed her hand, pulling her back and taking the hit. The claws dug into your left shoulder, piercing the skin, but you managed to zap away, slamming into the nearby tree to avoid Tyler’s claws tearing your shoulder apart.

“Y/N!” you never wanted to hear Wednesday shouting your name like that.

Tyler growled, and you opened your eyes to see him standing above Wednesday. Why wasn’t she running, damn it? It wouldn’t help if she was alone, but you just needed a few seconds! You got up to your hands and knees, blood dripping onto the grass as rage ignited the lightning within you, the fatigue seemed to be burnt through, it was as if you suddenly got a second wind. “Tyler!” you yelled, getting his attention, he turned to face you, roaring as you got to your feet and charged at him, your body engulfed in lightning as his clawed hand collided with your fist. He stepped back, roaring in pain as your lightning electrocuted him.

You were ready to keep going, when something similar to a werewolf flew into Tyler, tackled him to the ground and slammed him into a tree.

“Holy shit,” you weren’t even that angry anymore, just impressed by what just happened.

“Enid?” Wednesday guessed as she took a better look at the werewolf that had now turned around to face you.

“Enid?!” you turned to Wednesday in disbelief, before taking a better look. The hair, the slightly smaller size, her eyes, and that ‘I did it’ look on her face confirmed it. “Hell yeah! That’s the way!” you pumped your fist up.

“Enid!” Wednesday was the first to notice Tyler getting up.

“We got this! Just go!” you threw a knife toward Tyler, zapping toward it and kicking his arm away before he could hit Enid. And to prove the two of you were a fairly decent team Enid immediately took a chance and kicked Tyler away. “Right, Enid?” you smirked at the girl that finally got to wolf out.

Enid nodded, offering you a wolfish smirk, and bumping her clawed fist/paw with your own.

From the corner of your eyes, you saw Wednesday nodding reluctantly. She was needed at the school, and you and Enid could handle Tyler. “Be careful,” she told the two of you, though you could hear the unspoken threat in her voice as she said that. Be careful, or I’ll make you regret it.

Well, that was how Wednesday was.

Tyler got up, furiously glaring at the two of you. You could feel your lightning growing weaker, the adrenaline was fading away and you felt your body growing numb from overuse. Usually, your body would be the first to give out, but this time you were close to depleting all your reserves. At least you didn’t have to worry about losing control and shifting, you doubted you had enough power left to do it.

“I was confident while Wednesday was here, but I’m running low. I can’t do much more than provide support. Sorry about that,” you apologized, you’d make sure Enid wouldn’t get seriously injured, actually, you’d try to make sure she doesn’t get hit at all, but it was a fight, you couldn’t guarantee that.

Enid nodded, charging at Tyler. He raised his arm up, ready to slam her down when she approached, but you zapped to the side of him and hit him with a lightning strike from about a dozen feet away. It wasn’t strong enough to hurt him, but it stunned him, allowing Enid to tackle him and cut him with her claws.

You landed on the ground and put your hands down on it. “Enid! Get back!” the moment she heard you, Enid jumped away from Tyler. As he sat up you sent lightning through the ground, making it burst through it just underneath him. One more. You had one good strike left, and you’d have to make it count.

Tyler roared in pain, his skin smoking as he fled into the woods. Enid gave chase, knowing you couldn’t let him escape. You couldn’t let him go after Wednesday. You were about to go after him as well, but your vison got blurry, and you had to lean against a tree for a moment. One more attack. You had to make it count.

With a growl that sounded a lot more like that of a tiger you pushed your body to move, running after Enid and Tyler. If only you knew exactly where they were. You heard a whine to your left and rushed there, but all you saw was Enid on the ground, bleeding. You ran toward her, and that moment of lowering your guard cost you, as Tyler grabbed you from behind and slammed you onto the ground. With wind knocked out of your lungs you could only gasp as he pressed his claws against your chest. Any moment now he’d pierce through your skin and kill you. And he was enjoying it, you could see it on his face, in his eyes. Was this what Wednesday saw in her vision?

“You… made her worry,” you gasped, the need to survive overpowering the exhaustion. And your lightning turned orange once again.

~X~

You roared, paralyzing the enemy above you. It was weak, unable to hold you down. So easy to push off without even using lightning. Barely three seconds after you shifted the positions were changed. You pressed your paw against the struggling monster, its claws bouncing off your lightning covered legs and chest. You roared and lightning burst through you, destroying the branches above you.

The monster looked afraid, whining weakly as your own claws came out, covered in lightning. They pierced and burnt through the monster’s skin. There wasn’t even any blood there, the wounds closing because of the heat right away.

An unfamiliar loud and sharp sound pierced through your ears and you felt pain in your right shoulder. It wasn’t covered by lightning before, but now it was. It hurt, something was stuck in your body. So, you magnetized it and pushed it out. It was small, round, but it still caused you pain.

“Get away from my son!” you didn’t understand what those sounds meant, but they came from the human holding something in his hands. He was shaking, frightened, but he wasn’t backing away.

You stepped away from the enemy beneath you, slowly stalking toward the human. You weren’t in a rush. If they ran, you’d just go after them.

You heard the monster getting up, and it jumped toward you from behind. You just growled, creating two orbs of lightning and slamming them into the monster. Smoke came from its body, and it fell to the ground, unmoving and changing back into its human form.

“Tyler!” the man cried out and looked like her wanted to run toward the monster.

You roared, warning the man to stay put. It wouldn’t be long now.

Screaming in fear he tried to attack you again. But you recognized the sharp sounds this time, and destroyed those pesky round things with your lightning before they could reach you.

Something else came between you and the man. A canine creature that didn’t give any signs that it wanted a fight. It whined, as if calling you. The creature smelled familiar and you stopped. Curious to see what it would do. Something else came along. A severed body part that moved, that was alive. It approached you, tapping the ground in front of you.

The sounds meant nothing to you, but deep down there was something nostalgic about it.

Something. A place. Room. Two humans and the hand. You.

You lowered your head to the ground, lightning backing away from it so it wouldn’t hurt the hand in front of you. You nudged him with your head, and he grabbed on, climbing to the top of your head much to your surprise. You shook your head to shake him off, but as he kept clinging you wondered how you knew the hand was a he? He kept tapping something on the top of your head, and you still didn’t understand.

It didn’t matter. The sound was bringing you back. Thing. This was Thing! Not some random hand, he was a friend. So was the werewolf. Enid. She wolfed out. She fought with you to stop Tyler. To protect Wednesday.

Wednesday. She was at school. You needed to get to her.

~X~

You growled, shifting back and falling down to the ground, panting as you clutched at the grass in front of you. You had no idea what just happened, but Enid, still in her werewolf form, stumbled toward you and transformed back into her human form. Thing just patted your hand and then moved to comfort her as well.

“I’m going back to school, Wednesday might still need help,” you stumbled back to your feet and took your jacket off, covering Enid’s body.

“Yeah, go get her. We’ll be fine,” Enid encouraged you and Thing gave you a thumbs up.

You nodded and, though it was a struggle, began making your way back to Nevermore.

What would you even accomplish when you got there? Did you even have it in you to fight anymore? You doubted you did, but you were betting on adrenaline to give you that one last push if Wednesday needed you. Because you’d be damned if something happened to her while you were lying around and resting.

You managed to reach the pentagon, but you severely overestimated your abilities, by the time you got there you couldn’t even stand properly, let alone fight. You tried to zap to Wednesday, to get her away from Crackstone as he pinned her down with his telekinesis, but you just dropped to your knees, unable to produce a single spark. “Come on, come on, damn it,” but your body wouldn’t move.

Especially when you saw Bianca stabbing Crackstone. Was it over? You watched in horror as the man’s wound regenerated and he easily threw Bianca to the side and while Wednesday got up and tried to stab him with a broken blade he managed to push back against her with his telekinesis.

And the world around you went black.

~X~

Wednesday tried to push through, to break through the man’s defense, but her blade wouldn’t go through. And then a burst of lightning and a tiger paw swiped between her and Crackstone, ripping off both of his arms and leaving him wide open for Wednesday to pierce his heart.

Wednesday took a few steps back as the resurrected man let out a chilling, inhuman cry and vanished in dust and smoke. She took a couple of deep breaths, it was over.

“Wednesday get back! Stay away from Y/N!” Bianca’s warning caught her by surprise. Why? You just helped her once again. And then she heard a roar that sent shivers down her spine, a roar that froze her in place in a way that was so instinctual, so primal, she barely even remembered reading about the ability of the tiger’s roar to paralyze the prey. She thought she experienced fear when she saw Crackstone in her vision, but this was much deeper, this struck fear into her heart and bones, into her entire being. She blinked a few times, searching for you in the quad and there you were, ready to pounce and tear through anyone who approached you.

Wednesday’s eyes widened as she took in your appearance, you were still a tiger, but you were almost entirely covered in lightning. All the reason, all the control you had, it was gone, all that was left was the wild beast. This wasn’t the tiger that protected her from the building falling on top of you two, this was what you were afraid of, what Faulkner described in his diary, this was the lightning beast that was driven by instinct that couldn’t be reasoned with.

A/N: Well, one chapter to go people!

Reader: I can't shift! I'll hurt someone!

Reader (beast-form) with Wednesday:

Granted... Crackstone POV?

[imperator-titus]

Favorite Party Banter [Lae'zel Edition]

[Astarion (Ascended)] [Halsin/Jaheira] [Gale] [Karlach] [Lae'zel] [Minsc] [Minthara] [Shadowheart] [Wyll]

I often miss party banter because of party comp (and sometimes just straight up can't hear??) so here's a collection of my favorite bants while going through dialogue files. I know the wiki has the banter (most? all?) but I added the file names and dev notes.

Either Lae'zel is the main speaker/subject or I think her reaction is good shit.

Not in any particular order.

[PB_Astarion_Laezel_ReithwinVillage]

Astarion: Just once, I’d like to find a village that hasn’t been plundered and destroyed.

Lae’zel: Indeed. All the best weapons have already been scavenged.

Astarion: I was thinking about a warm fire and charming company, actually.

Lae’zel: I am perfectly charming, I’ll have you know. On Creche K’liir, I was known for my dazzling smile and charisma.

Astarion: Really?

Lae’zel: No.

[PB_Laezel_Shadowheart_ROM_Act1_001]

Lae’zel: How do you maintain such an elaborate plait, Shadowheart? The craftsmanship is impressive.

Shadowheart: Now that you mention it, I can’t remember who taught me. Another memory lost, perhaps. 

Lae’zel: Still. If you let me watch your technique, I might learn it from you.

Shadowheart: Maybe. If you keep a respectable distance.

[PB_Laezel_Gale_FelogyrsFireworks]

Lae'zel: Fireworks - a particularly gnomish field of art, no?

Gale: Indeed. More than simple craft, it's a way of life for some of them. {Devnote: not realizing she's about to crack a joke, taking the question seriously}

Lae'zel That may explain why most gnomes possess such short fuses.

Gale: Lae'zel! Was that a joke? {Devnote: utter disbelief, a joke from a relentlessly serious character}

Lae'zel: Only if you found it funny.

[PB_Laezel_Gale_BaldursMouth]

Lae'zel: Drink, dance, and song. Tu'narath's residents are known to partake in all three. Substantially.

Gale: Is that so? I assumed there to be little time for frivolity amongst all the fighting.

Lae'zel: Eternity is long, Gale. Long enough to pursue endeavors beyond combat.

Lae'zel: Githyanki write symphonies, craft liquors, paint frescos. When they aren't in fierce battle with ghaik, of course.

[PB_Karlach_Laezel_WyrmsRock]

Karlach: You know, I've always kind of hated this place. Such ado about a damned bridge.

Lae'zel: It's just a bridge. Is it really worth all that ire?

Karlach: C'mon, isn't there something you hate for no good reason?

Lae'ze;: Hm. I dislike owls. Their hyper-mobile necks are quite disconcerting.

Karlach: You know what, Lae? I couldn't agree more.

[PB_Gale_Laezel_ROM_Act3]

Gale: Tell me, Lae'zel, is it common for githyanki to fall in love?

Lae'zel: Love. Is that this feeling in me, then? This... passion to peel every layer of one's heart to see what light and shadows lurk there?

Lae'zel: Githyanki have playmates. Thrill-partners. But I'd never heard anyone profess love, nor read of it in our slates.

Lae'zel: I doubt I am the first githyanki to... to feel this way. But few would ever declare it.

[PB_Wyll_Laezel_SteelWatchFoundry]

Wyll: Labour is the lifeblood of every city. Baldur's Gate would perish without its workers.

Lae'zel: So it is with the githyanki. Without the mlar's swords and ships, and the gardens of our g'lathk, the empire couldn't thrive. {Devnote: meh-LAHR, geh-LATH-keh}

Wyll: Maybe githyanki and humans aren't so different afterall.

Lae'zel: Let's not get carried away, Wyll.