#passport to glow

[ratta-tat-nat]

7.20.2024

Just got my IPSY Glam Bag for July 2024. The theme for this bag is 'Passport to Glow' and the items I recieved are amazing! 😍💋😘

[evolution-ofa-geek]

GLOW - S1E8 Maybe Its All The Disco

Episode 132 - On this episode, I talk about my personal goals for next year and what I hope to accomplish physically and mentally and challenge you, the listeners, to go along on this journey with me. Will you be my accountability partners? On GLOW, Jenny whips up a party for Sheila's birthday while Sam helps Ruth deal with a new complication in her personal life. Mark changes his tune with Debbie.

Get 20% off on adult toys when you enter discount code "evo" at pleasurepassport.shop

[letmehavemynamedammit]

Had an interesting conversation with my mom today...

I was going through some old passport photos for some documents (promptly got distracted) and decided to arrange them in a chronological series - from one where I was 2yrs old to the most recent one, taken at 21.

In between, of course, there were the awkward ones taken in middle school and high school (who am I kidding, all of them were awkward - the older I got the more awkward the pics). I took a video and showed it to my mom. She laughed and said it was sweet. She continued (I'm paraphrasing here), "You are your most beautiful self right now. You know, we should start saying that instead of saying 'oh, I sucked back then' or 'I didn't look nice in school' or anything like that."

This got me thinking. Doesn't the whole 'glow up' idea indicate that the previous version of ourselves wasn't worth it? What does that do for our self-acceptance, self-worth, and self-love? Somehow we've collectively subscribed to the idea that the adolescent years are to be forgotten?

As you can see, the brain has done the heavy think and diarrhea-d. So imma leave this here for your consideration.

Might diarrhea again later.

Ciao 😚

[bi-writes]

hiiiii I'm new to your page but i would like to ask you what would've happened if simon mail-ordered a bride?

mail-order bride

you stare down at the address on the card, blinking as you reread the house number and look back up at the cottage in front of you. the numbers match, but you just need a few more minutes before you knock on the door.

you're not holding too many things. you have one suitcase with the entirety of your belongings at one side, the cat carrier sitting on top of it. on the other side, you hold a bundle of papers. your immigration papers, all shiny and new, your birth certificate, and your new british passport.

when you look back down, you swallow as you read over your name. it's odd, to see something new in the section labeled SURNAME.

Riley.

you've never met him. this isn't legal, it can't be, to have all of these things. he must be someone important. someone they value. or maybe, they are just too afraid to say no to him.

the front door opens, and you freeze on the spot as you see someone duck their head to step outside. they're wearing a mask, covering their entire face except for their dark eyes, but it's hitched up over his nose as he holds an unlit cigarette between his lips.

he stares as he sees you at the end of the steps. he frowns, looking you up and down.

"weren't supposed ta be 'ere for a few weeks."

your eyes water a little, but you only manage a shrug.

"i-i..." you meet his eyes. "i-i couldn't stay there any longer. i didn't have anywhere else to go."

he tucks the cigarette back behind his ear, slipping the mask off. it reveals a tousled mess of short blonde hair and a terribly scarred face. his eyes dart to the little carrier sitting next to you when he hears a soft meow coming from it.

"said no pets."

your lip trembles.

"please," you whisper, and his lip twitches as he fights off a scowl. you imagine he must not have much practice in hiding his emotions. he comes down the steps anyways, coming closer, and you pick up the carrier as he snatches the suitcase off the pavement, making his way back inside. you follow him, naturally.

when you close the door behind you, you're surprised at how quaint it all is. nice brick fireplace, a soft carpet (no shoes allowed is what he snapped at you), and wonderfully furnished to make the place cozy, warm, lived-in. there's throw blankets and accent pillows. there's pictures on the walls, paintings, yellow corner lights to give everything a soft glow. the kitchen is beautiful, with lovely colored tile and wooden cutting boards, a drip-coffee setup in the corner and worn cookbooks stacked neatly by a stainless steel toaster. there's herbs growing in little pots sitting on the windowsill above the sink, and there's a cast iron pot decoratively resting on the stove.

it's spick-span clean. there's no specks of dust or splatters left over from bacon grease. there's papers pinned to the fridge, lists to remind him to buy whole milk and sliced bread and call about the internet bill being charged twice again.

you set the carrier down on the couch, unzipping the top. a little curious black head pokes out of it, and you reach in and pick the cat up under its belly and drop it onto the floor. immediately, the cat spreads its front paws, claws sticking out as they begin to knead the carpet and use it as a personal scratcher, the prick, prick, prick sound enough to draw the giant man out of the bedroom with a hard frown on his face.

he points at the thing and shakes his head.

"keep tha' thing off the fawkin' counter," he snaps at you. he purses his lips when he sees you still standing there, afraid to even move. he comes closer, the cat scurrying off, and he yanks your coat and scarf off, going to the hang them up by the door. "can unpack tomorrow. need t'make somethin' ta eat."

you move immediately towards the kitchen, hoping he keeps a stocked fridge, but he puts out a big hand and stops you, stepping in front of you.

"the fuck are y'doin'?" he asks, and you blink up at him.

"you said to make dinner...s-sir?"

he tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes.

"y'listen t'this," he murmurs. "women don't lift a fuckin' finger in this house, y'hear?"

you nod, and he reaches up and palms your throat, cupping your jaw.

"and my wife doesn't call me sir," he mutters. "it's simon."

you soften a little. "i-i'm sorry, simon."

"don't apologize," he grits his teeth. "did nothin' wrong."

when a fresh set of tears comes down your face, he wipes them away with ease, calloused thumb swiping over your cheeks and quieting you. he puts something into your hands, a velvet box that he must've gotten when he went to put your suitcase away.

"y'r a riley now, yeah?" he murmurs, and you tilt your head at an angle, and your foreheads brush together when he bends low to speak to you. "act like it."

you lean up on your toes (he's so fucking tall), and you kiss him softly beside his mouth. when he moves his head, your lips brush against each other, but he pulls back to make his way to the kitchen. you hear the gas stove light up, and a few minutes later, there's a familiar smell of onions hitting hot olive oil.

you take a seat on the couch, smiling to yourself, wiping your eyes as you curl up there. you flip open the box, sighing shakily when you see the rectangular diamond and matching gold wedding band. when simon comes back in to give you a mug of tea, you take it with your left hand, and his eyes flicker when he notices the new jewelry there, so pretty, so new.

mine.

when he pads back into the kitchen, the cat blinks up at him slowly, green eyes bright as they sit on the counter.

simon walks past it, saying nothing at all.

[inkskinned]

hello. you left a neon pink post-it with pgs 194-359 due 9/12 in the book, by the way. it is now May 23rd and the library's printer is running out of ink. it jammed and tore my passport application. one of the librarians dutifully blacked out all my information (front and back!) before proceeding to use every unmarred inch as scrap paper.

i think maybe our (plural, inclusive) lives are connected. all of them. i have been thinking a lot about borrowing. about how people move through the world in waves, filling in the same spaces. i have probably stood on the same subway platform as you. we held the same book. all of us stand in the same line at the grocery, at the gas station. how many feet have stood washing dishes in my kitchen?

i hope you are doing well. the pen you used was a nice red, maybe a glitter pen? you have loopy, curling handwriting. i sometimes wonder if it is true that you can tell a personality by the shape of our letters. i'm borrowing my brother's car. he's got scrangly engineer handwriting (you know the one). it's a yellow-orange ford mustang boss. when i got out of the building, some kids were posing with it for a selfie. i felt a little bird grow in me and had to pause and pretend to be busy with my phone to give them more time for their laughing.

i have a habit of asking people what's the last good book you read? the librarian's handwriting on the back of my smeared-and-chewed passport application says the glass house in small undercase. i usually go for fantasy/sci fi, but she was glowing when she suggested it. i found your post-it on page 26, so i really hope you didn't have to read up to 359 in that particular book. i hope you're like me and just have a weird "random piece of trash" "bookmark" that somehow makes it through like, 58 books.

i wish the concept of soul mates was bigger. i wish it was about how my soul and your soul are reading the same work. how i actually put down that book at the same time you did - page 26 was like, all exposition. i wish we were soul mates with every person on the same train. how magical to exist and borrow the same space together. i like the idea that somewhere, someone is using the shirts i donated. i like the idea that every time i see a nice view and say oh gosh look at the view, you (plural, inclusive) said that too.

the kids hollered when i beeped the car. oh dude you set off the alarm, oh shit is she - dude that's her car!! one was extremely polite. "i like your car, Miss. i'm sorry we touched it." i said i wasn't busy, finish up the pictures. i folded your post-it into a paper crane while i waited. i thought about how my brother's a kind person but his handwriting looks angry. i thought about how for an entire year i drove someone to work every day - and i didn't even think to ask for gas money. my handwriting is straight capital letters.

i thought about how i can make a paper crane because i was taught by someone who was taught by someone else.

the kids asked me to rev the engine and you know i did. the way they reacted? you would have thought i brought the sun from the sky and poured it into a waterglass. i went home smiling about it. i later gave your post it-turned-bird to a tiny child on the bus. she put it in her mouth immediately.

how easy, standing in your shadow, casting my own. how our hands pass over each other in the same minor folds. i wonder how many of the same books you and i have read. i wonder how many people have the same favorite six songs or have been in the same restaurant or have attended the same movie premier. the other day i mentioned the Book Mill from a small town in western massachusetts - a lot of people knew of it. i wonder if i've ever passed you - and didn't even notice it.

i hope whatever i leave behind makes you happy. i hope my hands only leave gentle prints. i hope you and i get the same feeling when the sun comes out. soulmates across all of it.

[dreamescapeswriting]

A Love Worth Fighting For ~ JJK

⤜WORD COUNT: 2.7K

⤜GENRE: Established relationships, angst to fluff, a little bit of toxic from Jungkook, feelings of being unwanted/unneeded

⤜PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - April 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

The soft glow of the city lights spilt into the dimly lit apartment, casting shadows around the apartment as you stood by the window, phone clutched tightly in your hand. The familiar buzz of anticipation tingled in your veins as you waited for Jungkook's voice to fill the silence that had settled between you both. He'd been on tour for what felt like forever now and you were finally deciding that you wanted to talk to him. 

Usually, the two of you would stick to texting on occasion since you knew how busy he was and you didn't want him to think of you as "clingy" but the more you thought about it the more you realised it wasn't "clingy" to want to hear from your boyfriend. You stared out at the city and watched as couples together laughed and played together in the streets. You missed Jungkook and you weren't afraid to let him know that anymore.

When the two of you had started your relationship you'd been completely understanding of everything but as time went by and you saw how his band members kept in contact with their partners you wanted more from him. You at least wanted to speak to him more when he was away, to feel a little less lonely than you did right now.

When he finally answered, the warmth you'd been craving dissolved into icy silence, there was now happy greeting from your boyfriend, just a grumbled "What is it?" as he finally answered the phone to you after what felt like the tenth phone call.

"I miss you, Jungkook," you whispered, your voice trembling, anxiety beginning to bubble up inside of you as you thought about his reaction to it. Something you never should have had to fear with a boyfriend and yet here you were, second guessing everything you said and did.

"I miss us." You finished. There was a pause on the other end of the line, a pregnant silence that stretched between you like a taut wire.

"I'm busy, Yn," he said, his voice cold and distant, cutting through you like a dull knife that wanted to hurt you as much as it could but as slowly as humanly possible. This was nothing like the Jungkook you'd fallen in love with. Maybe he was tired or stressed but it didn't give him a reason to talk to you like this. The two of you needed to talk like adults and communicate what the other was feeling.

"You know how it is." He mumbled once again, his patience growing thin and your heart clenched at his words, the ache of longing swelling within your chest.

"But I need you," you pleaded, your voice cracking as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. 

"I need you here with me." But before you could utter another word, the line went dead, leaving you standing alone in the suffocating silence of your shared apartment. You couldn't believe he would even do this to you after you'd done everything you could to support him. 

You'd moved from your home country to be with him in Korea for the brief periods he was home, you upended your entire life because he had asked you to but he couldn't find five minutes in his day to even let you know he was okay?

For hours, you sat by the window, lost in the labyrinth of your own thoughts as tears streaked down your cheeks. How could he do this to you? Sighing to yourself you made your way to the wardrobes and began to rifle through the drawers until you found what you were looking for, your passport ready to be used. If Jungkook thought you were going to stick around any longer to be treated as nothing better than a side piece then he was sorely mistaken.

Without a second thought about it, you dragged out some bags, your stomach churning as you folded and placed everything into your suitcase,  each item weighing down on you as a reminder of everything you were leaving behind. You knew you couldn't take much with you right away but you could ship everything else before you went for a flight.

You couldn't continue to live in the shadow of a love that had grown cold and distant, and you refused not to listen to your own heart anymore.  So you zipped up your bags with trembling hands and sighed to yourself, looking around at the now practically empty wardrobe and began to make your way out of the wardrobe and to your laptop, you needed to get a flight as soon as possible to get out of there.

As Jungkook stepped into your apartment, weary from the road and longing for the familiar embrace of you, he was met with an unsettling emptiness that sent a shiver down his spine. The flight had been awful and he was ready to crawl into bed beside you but for some reason the air seemed heavier, charged with an unspoken tension that prickled at his senses.

"Yn?" He called out, hearing nothing back except from the sound of a dripping tap in the kitchen, the house was freezing, as though you'd been gone for a while but it was 3 in the morning. You had no where to be at three in the morning. 

"Babe. I get you're mad but I'm back now, I'm ready to talk about it....I'm sorry!" He cried out, throwing his keys down onto the coffee table when he realised that there were things missing. Photos of the two of you were ripped from the frames. His heart quickened its pace as he called out your name again, the sound falling flat against the silence of the apartment. Panic clawed at the edges of his mind as he searched every corner of the place, his footsteps echoing in the emptiness.

You had left him.

The realisation struck him like a blow to the chest, knocking the breath from his lungs as he staggered backward, his world crumbling around him. Images of your arguments flashed before his eyes, each word spoken in anger etched into his memory. The last time you'd spoken to him, you'd been begging for him to talk and he just ignored you. Choosing to hang up the phone and deal with his stress alone rather than talking it out with you.

Regret washed over him in waves, mingling with the bitter taste of remorse as he sank to his knees, his hands trembling with the weight of his own guilt. How could he have been so blind? How could he have let you slip through his fingers without even realising it? The two of you were meant to be, he knew that, anyone with eyes knew that and yet he'd let you slip away without giving it a second thought. 

He had been selfish, neglectful, and cruel, driving away the one person who had loved him unconditionally. Tears blurred his vision as he whispered your name into the emptiness, a desperate plea for forgiveness that hung heavy in the air. But deep down, he knew that mere words could never mend the shattered pieces of their love. As he sank to his knees, the weight of his regret crushing him like a vice, he knew that he had lost you but he knew that he was going to do anything within his power to get you back. 

The small café buzzed with the gentle hum of conversation, the soft aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the scent of freshly baked pastries. You moved with ease behind the counter, your movements graceful as you prepared drinks and chatted with customers at the same time. You'd been home for almost a month now and you'd started a new life, you'd gotten a job and decided that this was your fresh start with everything.

As you worked, a group of old ladies settled themselves at a nearby table, their curious eyes lingering on you with a mixture of interest and intrigue. With mischievous twinkle in your eyes, you approached their table, a warm smile playing at the corners of your lips. You knew that all of them had been debating your arrival back home for weeks now and you wanted to tease them a little on it.

Not even your own family knew what had happened between you and Jungkook. You didn't want to risk a huge public blow out, you just wanted time alone and clearly he did too. 

He could have been home from tour for almost a week now meaning he knew you were gone and you hadn't received a single call or a text asking where you were. Meaning...he didn't care.

"Good morning, ladies!" you greeted cheerfully, your voice carrying over the quiet murmur of the café. 

"What can I get for you today?" The old ladies exchanged knowing glances before one of them spoke up, her voice tinged with curiosity.

"Yn, dear, we couldn't help but notice that you're back home. What brings you back to our little town?" Your smile widened as you leaned in closer, a playful glint in your eyes. 

"Ah, you know how it is, ladies," you replied with a wink.  "A girl needs a break from the hustle and bustle of the big city every now and then. Besides, who can resist the charm of our quaint little town?" You smirked at them, you hated small towns where everyone knew everyone's business, you preferred being alone in a big city where no one spoke to you. Where you'd never see your boyfriend. Or where everyone was so rude toward you for simply walking too slow or even too fast.

The old ladies chuckled at your response, their eyes twinkling with amusement as they nodded in agreement. 

"You tease us too much, you can't blame us for wanting to know what happened," one of them said with a smile. Your heart tightened in your chest, you knew everyone would have their own theories to it but you'd tried not to think about it too much.

"But we can't help but wonder if there's more to the story than you're letting on." Your grin widened as you leaned back, placing a hand on your hip and shaking your head at them all.

"Oh, you know me, always keeping secrets," You teased, your laughter ringing out like a melody in the cosy confines of the café. 

"We keep secrets." One of them smirked and you shook your head,

"My lips are sealed. Now, how about I whip up some of my famous cinnamon rolls to sweeten the mystery?" With a chorus of delighted nods, the old ladies eagerly accepted your offer, their laughter mingling with the warm chatter of the café. And as you disappeared into the kitchen, a sense of contentment washed over you. You liked being back but it was getting harder to hide the truth from people and a part of you felt lost without Jungkook. You missed what you used to have, part of you longed to go back but Jungkook had made it clear by never messaging that things were over between you both.

The soft chime of the bell signalled the arrival of a new customer, and you had flour all over your hands so you called out with practised ease,

"Welcome! Feel free to take a seat wherever you like." You called out without looking up, finally washing off your hands in the sink but as murmurs and gasps rippled through the café, your curiosity piqued, and you lifted your gaze, only to find Jungkook standing there, his presence like a sudden thunderclap in the peaceful atmosphere of the café.

Shock and anger surged through your veins, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to contain the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. How dare he show up here, uninvited and unwelcome, after everything that had happened between you? What was he even thinking? Someone could see him, photograph him and it'd be all over the news.

Yet, under the anger you felt toward him, a part of you couldn't deny the flutter of excitement that danced in the depths of your chest. Despite your hurt, there was still a part of you that longed for his presence, that yearned for the warmth of his touch and the familiarity of his voice.

For a moment, your eyes locked in a silent battle of wills, each word left unspoken hanging heavy in the air between you. And then, with a defiant tilt of your chin, you turned away, busying yourself with the tasks at hand, determined not to let him see the effect his unexpected appearance had on you.

Jungkook smiled at a few of the people in the cafe, sending a wink at the old ladies who were all smirking at him. They'd been the ones letting him know where you were. He'd been in your hometown for over three days now searching for you, your family refused to reveal anything to him so he went searching. Jungkook made his way into the kitchens and you sighed a little, refusing to look at him.

"Why are you here, Jungkook?" You asked, your voice soft yet tinged with a hint of steel. 

"After everything that's happened, why would you come looking for me?" Jungkook's gaze never wavered as he reached out to gently cup your trembling hands in his own, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. 

"Because I can't imagine my life without you, Yn," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, he'd planned everything he wanted to say to you but all of that had flown from his mind the second he saw you here. 

"I've made mistakes, more than I care to admit, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right." A tear slipped down your cheek as you struggled to contain the tumult of emotions swirling within you. 

"But what about your career, your dreams?" You asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty.  

"You can't give any of that up. You're just bored now you're back from tour." You mumbled at him, harshly and he didn't blame you. 

"I'd give it up if it meant being with you," You scoffed at him, turning around to face him and you saw him properly for the first time. Bags under his eyes, his hair a mess, facial hair even growing, he was letting himself go.

Jungkook shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. It didn't matter if his dreams were in Korea, if you were here then he was here too. Being away from you for so long had given him clarity that he knew he didn't want that life without you.

"You are my dream, Yn," he said, his voice unwavering. Gasps sounded inside of the cafe as onlookers took int he scene in front of them, all of them interested to see what was going to happen. 

"Without you, none of it means anything. I would give it all up in a heartbeat if it meant I got to keep you by my side." And in that moment, as the weight of his words settled upon you, you felt something shift within your heart. With a trembling breath, you reached out to brush away the tears that stained his cheeks. It was going to take a lot of work to get back to being together the way you used to be but if he was willing to work then so were you.

"I'm tired of running, Jungkook. I'm tired of being second best to your job. I get that you love it but...I need more," you whispered, your voice barely a whisper in the hushed stillness of the café.

"But if we're going to do this, it has to be different this time. We have to do better, together." A smile tugged at the corners of Jungkook's lips as he pulled you into his embrace, the warmth of his touch a beacon of hope in the darkness. 

"I promise, baby," he whispered against your hair, his voice a fervent prayer. 

"I'll spend the rest of my days proving it to you." He whispered, prepared to do whatever it took to keep you in his life. 

It had been a month of you both alone in your home town and you were finally prepairing to go back to Seoul together, your things were packed and shipped but you were saying goodbye to everyone you'd grown to know in the cafe.

"If he hurts you again, you come get me." Red - one of the elderly ladies - said as she looked at you, arching a brow. Jungkook had grown to know all of them on a personal level but he knew they were all looking out for you,

"Yes, ma'am." You promised, hugging her tightly as Jungkook smirked from the doorway, happy that you'd made friends.

"You better bring her back more too! I want you both here for more 80th Birthday party!" She screams at him and he chuckles.

"I promise we'll be here," He told her, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you into his embrace.

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[pickingupmymercedes]

Ways to say "I love you" - Lewis Hamilton

I'm back with more Lew ❤️

warnings: mostly fluff, bit of angsty

wordcount: +3k

important: each drabble was writen as a snippet into different moments with Lewis. There's 10 more of those, but this was getting huge, so this is part 1.

With a hoarse voice, under the blankets

Life had been hectic, as it tended to be around the weeks before the final couple of races. You and Lewis had been on the road since mid October, not really going back to Europe since the US GP in Texas. The week off between São Paulo and Las Vegas the perfect opportunity to take a few days off in California with his friends. It was tiring, but you’d never complain of having a full passport as a down feature for your job.

The week of the Las Vegas GP was packed of events and promo for everyone, and to top it off a quick impromptu meeting with the board in the media day of the GP turned into a 5 hours long debate, that went well into the night.

You got back to your suite almost at midnight in serious need of a shower and some sleep. What you didn’t predict was Lewis already tucked into the bed, sound asleep.

You tiptoed around the room to try and find your things, not being lucky in the slightest you settled for a shirt Lewis had used in the road trip from LA to Vegas. The quick shower, only meant to decompress, had you engulfed in Lewis’ perfume, from both his shower products and shirt.

Lewis soft breathing guided you to the bed in the darkness of the room and when you got under the soft covers a pair of arms guided you to his chest, the one place sure to get you blacked out in minutes.

“They're in serious trouble for keeping you for so long” his horse voice an indication he had been in deep sleep already

“Sorry, took longer than we expected”

“Can’t wait to have you all to myself. Gonna have to lock you up at home during winter”

“No need, I’ll always find my way to you��. You mumbled into his neck, already nestling closer to him, ready to drift off.

A scream

“I love you” You screamed when you realized you’d never catch him, mid airport track, hoping the wind would somehow carry your words. His head turned abruptly, his face had confusion written all over his features, he was stuck in place, too stunned to comprehend the sudden confession you were hollering to the world but couldn’t say aloud to him just hours ago. You ran to him, security, people and restrictions be damned, that was your one chance.

“I love you, Lewis. I have loved you for longer than I care to admit, I have not stopped loving you even when I said I didn’t, even when hating you was all I wanted.” within arm’s reach you admitted breathlessly, doe eyes looking at you with such intensity you were sure he could see into your soul. His hands cautiously outstretching towards yours, waiting for you to take it, waiting for your mind to catch up to the feelings you had just admitted, waiting to see if you’d finally let your heart take over.

You didn’t take his hand though, going instead for the back of his neck, caressing the soft skin at the base of his hairline with your fingers, his overwhelming gaze waiting for your next move, for you to fully give in, looking from his eyes to his mouth until his scent and his touch were all that you felt. His hold on the lower of your back, the brush of his eyelashes on your cheeks and his taste on your lips were all you could ever want. The decision of a lifetime, one that after that day you would make every day, over and over.

On a random Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair

The thing with Lewis was he was too much of an Capricorn for his own good, the earth in him urged for stability and trust, and in the familiarity and serenity of home he urged for security, not that he wanted a predictable life, but he wished that no matter what, he had someone he could fall back on.

“Move in with me” He blurred out of nowhere causing you to lightly laugh at him, scotching closer to his chest as if there was any space left between you, both laying comfortably tangled in each other in his house in London. Pillows and blankets around you on the floor, the late afternoon sunlight hitting the glass on the dining table and reflecting up at the ceiling, a movie on the tv neither were paying attention to.

“I mean it. I don’t see myself without you, I don’t want to anyway.” he almost whispered in your ears, the low volume to his voice amplifying the seriousness in his proposal. Turning your head to look at him you held your gaze into his for minutes, almost daring him to call off the offer, but he never did. His warm smile spreading onto his features when you crocked your head and smirked, specks of the late sunlight glowing where they hit your hair.

“I’d love to” you murmured, straddling him and pushing his chest so he’d lay back down on the blankets, hovering your face over his, leaving ghostly soft kisses on his lips, coming back up to look him in the eye, time and time again. Convincing yourself that it was okay to finally let your walls down for good.

“I love you; you know?!” a statement so surely presented to your, so pure. He didn’t wait to hear it back before pulling your to his chest and his lips, he didn’t have to.

When baking chocolate chip cookies

“We’re baking chocolate chip cookies!” You exclaimed as you entered his home gym in London mid-winter break, supplies in hand already anticipating half of the ingredients wouldn’t exist in his fridge.

“Excuse me?” He questioned as he set the weights down and reached for the towel to get the sweat dry from his forehead

“C’mom, vegan chocolate chip cookies” you rushedly told him already half way back inside, leaving a confused Lewis searching for any meaning to what had just happened.

As he approached his kitchen, he could hear the soft music playing in the speakers in the background while you danced around arranging the things you’d need.

“Care to explain, love?” He leaned at the stool just under the glistening spotlight and the couple of trays spread at the kitchen island.

“Your niece and nephew are coming over tomorrow” She retorted, almost a duh expression on her features as she chopped the vegan chocolate bar.

“Y/n, they know I’m preparing for the season” He lovingly replied, getting closer to you.

“Oh, they’re not exactly for you, Lew. I mean, they’re still vegan if you want to try them.” You turned into his embrace, leaving a kiss to the corner of his lips before wiggling back to where the many food items were.

“You show up at my house midafternoon, fully stacked, to bake vegan cookies for kids that aren’t coming until tomorrow and don’t really expect to eat anything but fruits ?!” He crocked his head, smirk fully on display as his eyes gleamed.

“That’s like half the reason I came. Apples and bananas are fine, but they are kids.” You shrugged as that was the most obvious thing.

“We’re really baking cookies then, I guess?!” He reached to you and grabbed the flour off of your hand, pouring it into a bowl.

“Chocolate chip cookies” You corrected him, laughing as he stole a few of the chopped chocolates still sitting on the chopping board 

 

Not said to me

You jolted up from your sleep when you heard a loud cry, frantically looking around the room you remembered you weren’t home when your eyes found the luggage in the corner, yours and Lewis’s belongings neatly tucked in the adjoining closet, a stark contrast to the baby clothes and toys scattered around the floor and armchairs. Slowly coming to your senses, you realized the crying was in your dreams when you heard a happy babble, followed by your husband’s low voice coming from the balcony of the hotel room.

“Sshh love, we don’t want to wake mamma up now do we? She’s taking a nap so we can go for a walk down the beach later.” The little girl instantly responding with a babble at the word she knew all too well.

Getting up you didn’t have the heart to interrupt the scene that played out when you peaked from the opened French doors of the room, deciding to quietly watch from the threshold as he kept blowing raspberries onto your daughter’s tummy, the chunky toddler in nothing but her diapers, in the hot afternoon summer breeze of Italy in July, excitedly clapping her hands for her dad while sitting on his legs.

“Oh, I miss her too baby, even when she’s just in the other room… I’ll tell you a secret though, even if momma tells the world we’re twins, every time I see your eyes, I see hers, the same one I’ve been in love with for a long time. Everyone says you are my hard carbon copy, but I love that I get to look into a piece of your mommy whenever I look at you".

When we lay together by the sun

The sun in your skin felt divine, a stark contrast to the wintery end of year you’d been having back in Europe, the heat and humidity in the air bringing to your senses the familiarity of northeast Brazilian weather in the hottest months of the year. His touch on your shoulder blades providing even more warmth, big hands massaging your whole back with sunscreen.

“By all means I’m the biggest fan of your back massages, but I put on sunscreen just a couple of hours ago” you giggled looking at him over your shoulders, sunglasses on the tip of your nose.

“Just making sure you’re protected, will you do mine?” He asked after tying the strings on the upper part of your bikini and giving your bum a checky light smack.

“Yeah… come here you Briton” grabbing him by the arms you sat up on the lounger and guided him to sit in between in your legs, his back already hot from the sun exposure.

“Thank you for coming here with me, I know we made it a 4 times header not going home to rest for a bit after Mexico.” You told him while spreading the white content of the Brazilian sunscreen you’d bought, throwing away the british one, not properly suited to sun in the tropics from your past experiences.

“Any time, love.” turning to face you he pulled you by the waist, his signature smirk and relaxed eyes scanning yours. “Especially when it includes this little paradise.”

“Have I told you I love you yet?” You questioned, the toothy grin he loved so much splattered on your face, his strong arms around you, the sounds of crashing waves in the background, white sand in your toes and his skin smelling just like your favorite childhood memories did.

“Not today, I don’t think so. Eu te amo” a questioning look as he tested his Portuguese around you, crushing his lips in yours while you giggled, raising you up to his body so he could hold you in his lap, his touch also how home felt to you. 

Over and over again, till it’s nothing but a senseless babble

He felt the first little droplets of rain hit his skin as soon as she screamed “run”, laughing while holding her oversized hat to her head. He sprinted towards her, grabbing her waist, effortlessly stopping them both and turning her body to him, her eyes holding the warmth that lately he could only find there, his face adorned with adoration, her dimples fully showing as her lips plastered the sweetest of grins.

“I love you” He couldn’t help himself, those 3 little words coming out as easily as breath, the thought of how hard it’d been to get them out in the first place long forgotten. She held his gaze as if trying to eternalize those memories, the afternoon summer rain falling hard around them whilst rays of sunlight hit the concrete, their clothes drenched, drops of water running down their tangled bodies.

“I love you; I love you; I love you” senseless babbles that professed his utmost emotion, holding her up to him and kissing in the pouring rain like they were teenagers in a cheesy movie.

A whisper in the ear

Being back to Europe always took you some time to get acclimated, and it didn’t help that that particular winter had been the coldest in years, so much colder than what your body was used to, so you wrapped yourself up in blankets waiting for your boyfriend to get out of the shower and join you in bed, hopefully helping you to warm up.

His parents, siblings, niece and nephew were gathered for an impromptu 5 days getaway in the mountains, in the middle of wintery January, snow everywhere and days filled with winter sports, fireplaces and laughter from the people that had welcomed you as family. 

“Hey gorgeous, I thought you’d still be down there” he smirked his way to the open luggage on the little sofa by the bed, towel low on his hips and another in his hand for his face.

“Everyone went to bed, something about getting some sleep to beat you on the slopes tomorrow” You giggled the last part, knowing how competitive they could get. He chuckled and made his way towards you, getting under the blankets and bringing you over to his side, just his presence enough to soothe away the tight muscles from the cold.

“How come you’re always running so cold?” he whispered in your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist and hips and bringing you to his chest. His skin radiating warmth and the smell of your body wash, since he’d forgotten to pack his. Fingers absentmindedly tracing random patterns on your thighs, your eyes lazily trying to focus on the news on the tv but failing miserably, the world could wait until the next morning.

“I love you” was the last thing you heard he whisper, his hoarse voice heavy with sleep, his arms scooching your body closer to his while making sure the blankets covered you both before he let his own sleep take over.

As we huddle together, the storm raging outside

Sundays after races would always be busy for the both of you. The rain was falling hard as you entered the small RV as quietly as you could, founding Lewis ingulfed in his own thoughts and feelings when you finally cleared through your duties, way past the time you wish had.

Taking in how his arms and back looked tense while he rested his head on both his hands sitting in the small sofa, you brought yourself to stand right in front of him, softly running your finger on his neck until he looked up offering a sad side smile and tugged you to his lap. You hadn’t spoken to each other since before he got in his car, well over 4 hours prior, but you didn’t have to.

He needed time to process what happened, he always did. Lewis could always come to interviews looking like he had it all together, always with the right words, but you knew, from the crease in his forehead and the way his shoulders dropped whenever he breathed a little deeper, that his calculating-looking actions and words were just knee-jerk reactions.

“I love you” you said into his neck, a consolation of sorts, huddling together, sitting on his lap with his head resting on your chest and his arms holding your waist tightly. At least in that small room, neither of you had to think about the storm brewing outside, not yet anyway.

Over the shoulder

The championship had, yet again, came down to the last race and the doom could be felt even from outsiders. The last time it happened Lewis wasn’t even a Ferrari driver, but everyone remembered.

You had tried to block the subject from your conversations with him, warned everyone he had enough of the comparisons, made sure he had all the space to breath, concentrate and shield all the noise from the outside. Yet, in the apparent serenity of the hotel bedroom, the quietness would scream back at him.

“What if it’s not meant to be?” He snapped you out of your thoughts as you finished some reports on your computer. His eyes a mix of something you couldn’t quite pint point, his walls up even for you.

“Then you’re still a 7 times world champion, a driver who’s won for McLaren, Mercedes and Ferrari, a trailblazer in the sport, entrepreneur over a variety of assets, founder of Mission 44, British knight, Brazilian honorary citizen, Anthony and Carmen’s son, Nicolas’ brother, my mom’s favorite son-in-law… oh and Roscoe’s dad, of course.” He smiled as you got to his family, scootching over to be by your side on the balcony sofa and laying his head on your lap.

“I would hate to be an almost champion… twice”   

“Yeah, we would all hate that too. And it’s okay to feel all kinds of way about possible results, but we’re not gonna known until we know, right?!”  You felt him humm in response, your fingertips going through his braids, trying to sooth the tensions away from him.

It wasn’t until the soft humming of a phone in the bedroom that you realized you had fallen asleep in the balcony, his body moving almost automatically to get him up while his features revealed how he too had dozed off.

“Will you still love an almost champion?” He prompted suddenly, almost like he had just remembered he had to know, eyes twinkling under the lights.

“Babe, I stayed even in the timbs phase, didn’t I?” You smirked back earning a full soundless chuckle, those that had him reach for his diaphragm and shake his head left to right.

“You’re lucky I love you; you really are.” You heard as he looked over his shoulders just as he got back inside.

[austinbutlerslovers]

One Night in Budapest

Label 18+

During your girls’ trip abroad,you make a stop in Budapest. After a day of sightseeing, you and your friends settle into a hidden gem restaurant for local Hungarians. Unbeknownst to you, Austin Butler is a frequent patron, currently in the city filming “Dune: Part Two.” When you see him, you instantly recognize who he is, and after he makes eye contact, the connection is undeniable. He joins your table, and after some lively conversation, he asks you to join him the next day for a private tour of his villa where things quickly become intimate.

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut❤️‍🔥 Instant attraction • sexual hesitation • mutual stimulation in a hot tub (hand job fingering)•foreplay •nipple play • size kink• passionate P in V • protection •multiple orgasms

📖 Proof Reader @purejasmine 🔗 Master List

One Night in Budapest

The cobblestone streets of Budapest are alive with the movements of tourists and locals, creating a lively backdrop as you and your two girlfriends, Emma and Sophie, soak in the city’s energy. On holiday, the three of you are enjoying every moment, your passports already brimming with stamps from countless exotic locations.​

Now in Budapest, you find yourself captivated by the stunning architecture and the lively atmosphere surrounding you.

Your itinerary takes you to some of the city’s most iconic landmarks: the grand Chain Bridge, the soothing Széchenyi Thermal Bath, and the imposing Buda Castle. Each stop feels more awe-inspiring than the last. As the sun sets, casting a warm, golden glow over the Danube River, the three of you decide it’s time to find the perfect place to eat.

You stumble upon a quaint little restaurant tucked away in a narrow alley, its glass front revealing a charming patio adorned with vibrant flowers and flickering lanterns. The rustic charm, along with the enticing smell of Hungarian delicacies, draws you in.

Inside, the cozy courtyard features wooden beams overhead and candlelit tables that create a warm ambiance. You are seated at a table near the window, excitement building within you as you prepare to indulge in the local cuisine.

As you look over the menu, you glance up and notice a familiar face, Austin Butler, the actor deep in conversation standing next to a table of another group of guests.

His presence is magnetic, and it’s hard not to steal glances. He’s covered almost head to toe in a makeshift disguise: a trench coat, a hoodie, and a brimmed hat. But his gorgeous blue eyes are unmistakable. They shine with an intensity and depth that draw you in, even from across the room.

His disguise might hide him from most, but you recognize him instantly. The way he moves, the subtle confidence in his gestures, and the warmth in his laugh are all unmistakable. He seems relaxed and easygoing, exuding a casual charm despite the efforts to stay incognito.

He unexpectedly laughs at something the other person says, and the sound is so rich and genuine you’re transfixed, caught in the spell of his charisma.

As if he can sense your stare, his gaze suddenly meets yours and his eyes sparkle with intense curiosity. A faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips when he sees you and the connection is undeniable.

As the waiter takes your orders, you notice Austin wrapping up his conversation with the other table of guests. Your heart races as he starts walking toward your table, his tall, striking figure commanding attention as he approaches.

You look up at him from your seat and can’t help but feel a surge of excitement and disbelief at how tall and handsome he is in person.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice smooth, accompanied by a disarming smile.

You and your girlfriends exchange stunned glances, barely containing your excitement before nodding eagerly and responding in unison, “Yes!”

Austin’s smile deepens, and he slides into the seat next to you, his warm, easy demeanor making the moment surreal.

After a round of introductions, you and your friends find yourselves deep in conversation with Austin, who turns out to be just as engaging and down to earth as he appears on screen.

He shares stories of his travels, film projects, and his time exploring Budapest. His laughter is contagious, and the way he listens, genuinely interested in your stories, makes each of you feel seen and appreciated.

As he speaks you begin to admire all of is stunning features finding what strikes you most about him is his unwavering eye contact which draws you in.

“So, what brings you to Budapest?” he asks, his voice lowering as he focuses all his attention on you.

You momentarily falter, searching for the right words, the intensity of his blue eyes sending a thrill through you.

“W-we’re on a girls’ holiday,” you recover, gesturing to your friends,.“We wanted a break from the usual tourist destinations to explore somewhere new.”

As you speak, you can’t help but admire the way his full lips curl into a knowing smile, a flicker of attraction in his eyes igniting a warmth in your chest.

You think Austin Butler might actually be into you, and the thought makes you bite your lip to contain your smile. The moment his eye linger on yours longer than necessary, you feel the pull of curiosity, you wonder how far this could go and lean a little closer as you ask,

“What about you, Austin? What brings you to Budapest?” You ask with a flirtatious tone hinting at another question lingering in the air: does he want you?

“Mmm, work mostly,” he says, unable to contain his smile, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks as if he’s holding something back.

“What are you working on in Budapest?” you pry more, noticing how it excites him to keep a secret from you.

“It’s all under wraps,” he replies with a teasing grin.

“That’s too bad. I really wanted to know,” you say, letting your playful tone linger.

Austin rests his hand on his chin, a mischievous look in his eyes as a smile plays on his lips while he studies you.

“You’re not going to let me leave without sharing, are you?” He asks and the way his eyes meet yours tells you everything you need to know.

“Well, if it’s all under wraps…” you say in a mock-serious tone, delicately picking up a juicy cherry from your plate. As you take a teasing bite, the sweet flavor bursts in your mouth and you lock eyes with him as he watches as you lick the vibrant red juice glistening on your lips.

You savor the moment, your gaze still holding his, a playful challenge in your expression.

He stares at you, entranced. “I’m playing Feyd-Rautha, Paul Atreides’ arch-nemesis in Dune: Part Two,” he outright admits, captivated by your subtle hint of intimacy.

“So you’re a bad guy?” you grin, glancing at him with a seductive look in your eyes, the knowledge heightening your attraction to him even more.

Before Austin can reply, his assistant approaches with urgency.

“Hey, Austin, we’ve got another engagement this evening,” she says, gently reminding him of his schedule.

A flicker of reluctance crosses his face,clearly not ready for the night to end and as he stands and he looks at you with a smile that sends a rush of excitement through you.

“I’m staying at a villa just outside the city,” he says, his voice soft and inviting.

“Come tomorrow morning, I’d love to show you around.”

Your heart races at the unexpected invitation. You glance at your girlfriends, and they nod eagerly, almost too enthusiastically.

“I’d love to,” you reply trying to contain your excitement as you gaze up at him thinking of all the endless possibilities his invitation brings.

You exchange phone numbers, and for a moment, he hesitates, his gaze still lingering on yours.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, his tone full of promise.

As Austin leaves, you can barely contain your excitement.

The moment he’s out the door, you all burst into excited whispers, your joy so overwhelming that you blurt out, “He invited me to his villa?!” startling the other diners.

You hold up your hand apologetically, your cheeks flushed from the thrill and when the bill comes, you notice it has already been paid in full by Austin.

The Villa

The next morning, you arrive at the villa, a stunning property nestled in the rolling hills overlooking Budapest. It is a blend of modern luxury and classical elegance, with ivy-covered walls, expansive gardens, and a panoramic view of the city. As you walk up the driveway, you are greeted by none other than Timothée Chalamet, Zendaya, and Florence Pugh, all in casual hiking gear.

“Hey, welcome!” Timothée calls out, waving enthusiastically. Zendaya and Florence join him, offering warm smiles and friendly greetings.

“We were all just about to go on a hike,” Zendaya explains. “But it looks like Austin has other plans for you.” She says with a hint of playful sarcasm.

Florence giggles. “We’ll see you later… much later,” she adds, hinting that you’ll have the place to yourselves.

Then the trio heads off, leaving you to see Austin waiting at the front door, leaning against the frame.

He greets you with a warm hug and a smile, keeping his arm around you “I’m so glad you made it,” he says gently as you walk together.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all morning.” He admits leading you inside

You feel a flutter of excitement from his touch. “Me too,” you reply, your voice betraying your nerves and anticipation.

He gives you a reassuring squeeze as he continues, “I can’t wait to show you around. This place is fascinating”

As you walk through the villa, his arm resting comfortably around your shoulders, Austin points out various features, sharing little stories along the way. “This is the lounge,” he says, gesturing to the grand piano in the corner. “I like to play a bit when I need to unwind.”.

He guides you into the living room, an inviting space with soaring ceilings and a mix of modern and classical touches.

The furniture is elegant, complementing the contemporary style, and the expansive windows frame breathtaking views of the pool and the city stretching out beyond.

“This is one of my favorite views,” Austin says, leading you to the window. “Look, you can see all of Budapest from here.” He points, and your eyes follow, landing on the Chain Bridge spanning the Danube, connecting the two sides of the city

“This is amazing, Austin,” you say, astonished as you take in the view.

He smiles, his gaze lingering on you as you admire the cityscape. There’s something in his eyes, a subtle flicker of desire.

“It’s especially beautiful in the evenings,” he says softly “When the sun sets and the city lights start to twinkle on the water’s edge. Maybe you’d like to see it?” He asks, his voice warm, his eyes holding yours with a subtle seduction.

Your heart skips a beat as you answer. “I’d like that,” gazing into the depths of his blue eyes. He smiles at you and brings his hand down your waist ”Come on we haven’t finished our tour” he says guiding you from the living room.

As Austin walks with you to the private quarters of the villa he opens up about filming for Dune Part Two. He describes the elaborate sets and the intense action sequences without giving too much away.

As he continues the tour, you and Austin start bonding over your shared love of travel. He talks about his time in Budapest, describing his favorite spots in the city and his appreciation for his other travel destinations such as Rome and Spain.

You listen closely, captivated by his stories and the genuine passion behind his words. With every moment, you feel a deepening connection forming as the two of you explore the villa together, your conversations flowing naturally.

Eventually, his tour brings you to a large staircase. “There’s one more thing I want to show you, it’s a rooftop terrace,” he says, his eyes lighting up with excitement.” Then, with a playful grin, he adds, “You’ll need swimwear for this.”

His gaze flickers down your body momentarily before meeting your eyes again, his smile mischievous yet warm.

“Do you want to see it?” he asks, his voice filled with anticipation.

“Absolutely!” you reply, eager to see what he has planned for you.

He leads you to a tiled lounge, where several bikinis are laid out on a chaise lounge. “Pick whichever one you like,” he says with a smile. “I’ll wait outside. No rush.”

Feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, you browse through the selection and finally choose a bikini that makes you feel confident.

Once you’re ready, you step out to find Austin waiting for you, now in swim wear. His athletic frame is even more striking in the sunlight, his toned abs and broad shoulders immediately catching your eye.

“You look amazing,” you both say at the same time exchanging smiles.

“No, really—you look incredible,” he says, his voice full of genuine admiration.

You feel your cheeks flush at the compliment. “Thanks,” you reply with s smile. “You look incredible too,” you add, and his face lights up with a broad grin pleased by your words.

He takes your hand, and the two of you head upstairs to the rooftop.

When you step out onto the terrace, the view takes your breath away. The entire city of Budapest is spread out before you, with the river sparkling under the morning sun, creating a picture-perfect scene.

The terrace is beautifully decorated, with plush lounge chairs arranged around a pristine hot tub. The vibrant colors of the cushions complement the surrounding landscape, and the water in the hot tub steams invitingly in the crisp morning air. The entire setting feels serene and luxurious, like something out of a dream.

As you both take in the breathtaking view, Austin turns to you with that signature charming smile, his eyes glancing toward the hot tub.

“Would you want to get in with me?” he asks, his voice sincere yet playful.

Your heart flutters, a mix of excitement and curiosity rising within as you wonder what his true intentions are feeling more tempted by him every second

“Sure” you reply, your voice tinged with anticipation.

He guides you toward the hot tub, offering a steady hand as you step closer. You carefully step in and the heat instantly eases the tension from your body as you sink into the bubbling water. Austin climbs in after you, settling into the tub with a contented sigh.

You both sit in comfortable silence for a moment, the warm water and stunning view creating a sense of calm. You exchange a smile with Austin, feeling a sense of peace and gratitude for this unexpected experience. Everything about the moment feels perfect.

As you soak in the bubbling water, Austin leans in closer, wrapping his arm around you with a coy smile.

“You know, I’ve been thinking a lot today,” he says, staring off into the distance for a moment, his expression softening. “How life surprises you in ways you don’t expect.”

You nod in agreement, feeling a sense of calm and comfort spread through you, anchored by his presence. “I’m glad you’re here,” he adds, his voice sincere and warm.

“What is it about me?” you ask, your curiosity of his intentions finally getting the better of you.

He pauses, as if weighing his next words carefully then his eyes lock with yours as he speaks.

“The moment I saw you in that restaurant, I honestly couldn’t take my eyes off you,” he confesses, his voice raw with honesty. “There’s just something about you—something captivating, irresistible.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and a thrill of excitement rushing through you. The air between you feels charged as his hand brushes against yours. When your fingers intertwine together it sends a rush of warmth through your body.

“I knew I had to find a way to get to know you better,” he continues, his voice now softer, almost intimate.

“And now that you’re here with me, I know I made the right choice.” His smile is charming, his blue eyes filled with that same magnetism that drew you in from the start.

Before he can say another word, you act on impulse placing your hands to his jaw and pressing your lips on to his.

The kiss is perfect, sending a surge of emotions through you that you hadn’t anticipated. It’s a moment of pure instinct and passion, and for a brief second, Austin is stunned by your boldness.

As the kiss deepens, you feel him relax into it, his hands sliding to your waist, the connection between you intensifying with every heartbeat. In this moment, you know for sure you’re going to sleep with Austin Butler.

What else could he have expected, inviting a girl to his home so soon after meeting her the previous day?

Without breaking the kiss, you shift, climbing into his lap, your legs straddling him. The heat of his body against yours sending a thrill through you as your fingers slip beneath the waistband of his swim trunks.

He gasps softly into your mouth, his body tensing beneath your touch. Your fingertips trace a delicate paths down his abs. Then, you find it—his big hard cock. He is much larger than you expected and your fingers wrap around the thickness in reverence as your bodies press together.

He pulls away from the kiss, his breathing uneven, and you stare at each other, his eyes clouded with conflicting thoughts.

You can tell by the way he pants, by the way his gaze flickers between desire and restraint, that he’s battling something in his mind. “Do you thi…” is all he manages to say before you kiss him again, silencing the hesitation you feel building within him.

Your heart races, caught between the thrill of the moment and the intense connection you feel with Austin. There’s a part of you that wants to slow down, to take things at a pace he’s comfortable with, but you don’t have the patience for that. You’re both here, in this moment, and you can feel the insatiable need between you.

You take his hand from your waist and push his fingers into your bikini making his cock twitch in your hand.

A low moan escapes him as you push his fingers to explore you. He slips them through your slickness, his touch tender and commanding as he coaxes you into surrender of the pleasure that’s quickly building inside.

A soft moan escapes your mouth, swallowed by his kiss as every brush of his fingers sends waves of pleasure coursing through you.

His fingers easily slip inside you pushing to a depth that has you break the kiss with a loud moan, your body arching into him. The feeling is intimate, and intense, each thrust of his fingers making your breath hitch as your heart races. It’s like he knows exactly how to touch you, how to drive you deeper into that state of blissful surrender.

The sight of him with his hair and lashes wet is surreal. You look down at his powerful body, muscles flexing beneath his wet skin, and it makes your breath catch in your throat. It feels like a dream.

Your hand begins firmly stroking his cock and you feel his hard shaft pulse in your grip as he captures your lips again, this time with more urgency, his fingers thrusting into you with a deliberate rhythm, matching the intensity of his kisses.

His other hand grips your waist, holding you steady as his kisses grow deeper, more passionate. He suddenly slows his thrusts and pulls back from the kiss, leaving you confused.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs against your lips, his breath warm and heavy. “Do you want this?”

“Austin, of course” you whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation and desire. “I want all of you.”

A satisfied grin spreads across his lips, and his fingers move inside you once again with purpose, guiding you to the edge. His thrusts are deliberate, each one sending you spiraling closer and closer until the sensation becomes too much to bear.

The warm water laps against your skin, heightening the pleasure as he unexpectedly makes you come, your body trembling against his as waves of ecstasy wash over you.

He continues to stroke your inner walls as you ride out the orgasm, your breath coming in short gasps as you cling to him breathing softly against his neck. The sensation is overwhelming as he knows just the right way to touch you to have you falling apart.

When you catch your breath, you look into his eyes, the connection between you even stronger now. “I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel,” you whisper, your voice laced with promise.

Austin’s eyes lock onto yours, filled with longing. “I want that,” he says, his voice carrying a blend of anticipation and vulnerability. “I’m yours.”

You kiss him hard and demanding melting away all his reservations and stroke his cock firmly feeling the way he throbs in your hand, a steady pulse that becomes more urgent with every passing second.

His breath quickens, each inhale sharp and shallow, his chest rising and falling in time with your strokes as you on increase the pace. His eyes meet yours, and you can see the desire, the need building in his gaze.

“Fuck that feels good” he breathes, his voice barely audible over the soft sound of the water.

His body tenses beneath your touch, his hips shifting slightly, pushing into your hand as if he can’t help but seek more. The heat radiating from him intensifies, his cock pulsing harder with every stroke, and you know he’s getting close.

His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he lets out another low groan, his breath coming faster, more ragged.

He groans louder as you continue stroking him, your movements becoming faster, more powerful. His entire body seems to respond, shuddering as the tension coils tighter and tighter within him.

His lips part as he gasps, the sound filled with both pleasure and desperation, and you can feel the way his thighs tense beneath the you, his body teetering on the edge of release.

The moans that begin to escape his lips fuel your own arousal, and you find yourself lost in the moment, wanting nothing more than to bring him the same ecstasy he gave you.

He takes a sharp inhale, his breath catching as his eyes squeeze shut, his whole body trembling with the intensity of it. “Don’t stop “ gasps, his voice strained with need. “I’m gonna come.”

You quicken your movements, your hand gliding feverishly over his length and his hips buck against your hand with each stroke, seeking more as the pleasure surges through him, building to a breaking point.

His thighs tense, his entire body going rigid as he fights to hold back, but it’s clear he’s past the point of no return.

With a final, shuddering moan, Austin’s body locks, and he spills himself into your hand, his release warm as it mixes with the water around you. His hips jerk forward one last time, his cock throbbing in your grip as he lets go completely, the tension draining from his body.

He shudders, his grip on you loosening as the aftershocks ripple through him, leaving him utterly spent and breathless.

When he looks at you it is with pure, unfiltered gratitude in his gaze. “You’re incredible,” he says, clearly still trying to form a coherent thought. “I needed that and I didn’t even know it” he admits.

“When you said that life has unexpected surprises, I thought this was what you meant,” you respond playfully.

Austin grins, running a hand through his damp hair. “Well, I’m definitely surprised. Honestly, I was just trying to impress you today.” He confesses.

His admission catches you off guard, and your heart sinks at his sincerity. He wasn’t even thinking this would happen; he just wanted to make a good impression.

“Austin your so kind I didn’t mean to…” your words trail off, suddenly feeling self-conscious, but his warm smile eases your worry.

“I wanted you,” he says, his voice taking on a seductive tone, his eyes gleaming with unspoken desire.

His expression turns serious for a moment as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close. “Stay the night?”he asks, his voice is soft, but his intentions are undeniable.

“I thought that’s what you meant when you said the view looks better at night,” you reply playfully leaning in pressing your chest to his.

“It is now,” he says with a grin, his lips brushing yours as a mischievous look plays on his face.

Night Life

After you shower, you find Austin dressed in a white short-sleeved tee and light denim jeans in a king ropes trucker hat. He smiles softly and takes your hand, leading you to spend the afternoon together.

You sit beside him at the piano, resting your head against his shoulder, while he plays a gentle melody, his fingers dancing effortlessly across the keys. Every now and then, he glances at you with a warm smile, and you can’t help but feel completely at ease.

Later, as you relax on the couch, your head resting in his lap, he reads aloud from a book, his voice calm and soothing as his fingers gently run along the pages. The afternoon feels timeless, just the two of you savoring the quiet moments.

A private chef arrives, setting up in the kitchen to prepare dinner. You and Austin pause for a moment to watch, sharing a glance as the delicious dishes covering the table

Before long, Zendaya, Timothée, and Florence return from their hike, looking famished. When everyone is ready, you all sit down together to enjoy gulyás, a traditional Hungarian goulash.

Alongside the meal, you all sip on pálinka, a strong fruit brandy that adds a touch of warmth to the afternoon.

The conversation flows easily, laughter filling the air as you share stories and enjoy each other’s company.

After the meal, with everyone full and a little tipsy, Florence grins and suggests,

“Why don’t we head out to a local spot and dance the night away?” Zendaya quickly pulls out her phone, finding a popular bar called Insta Fogas that’s known for its lively atmosphere. She opens the Bolt app, calling a car for all of you.

Before long, you’re walking along Kazinczy Street, where the nightlife buzzes with energy. Austin holds your hand, walking ahead as he leads you. He glances back at you occasionally with a playful smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

Once inside Insta Fogas, the music pulses through the air, and the group wastes no time getting on the dance floor. You all take shots of Unicum, a famous Hungarian herbal liqueur, before dancing to the beats of Fluor Tomi, one of Hungary’s most popular rappers. The night becomes a whirlwind of music, laughter, and movement as you lose yourself in the moment.

With Austin by your side, his arm around your waist as you dance together, it feels like the best night of your life. You don’t want it to end, this perfect blend of freedom, joy, and connection making you wish the night could last forever.

You all return to the villa around 1 a.m., with Timothée shouting wildly as he bursts through the front doors.

Without hesitation, he strips off his designer shirt, then kicks off his socks and shoes, and sprints straight to the pool.

The loud splash sends water flying everywhere, making Zendaya and Florence collapse into each other, laughing uncontrollably. Timothée comes up for air, yelling in excitement and splashing around wildly.

“Get in here!” he calls out playfully to them but they are still unable to contain their laughter at his spontaneity.

You and Austin sink into the couch together, the warmth of the drinks settling heavily in your veins. He takes off his King Ropes hat and runs a hand through his sandy blonde hair, tousling it slightly before wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close.

His body feels warm against yours, a comforting presence as you both relax into the quiet of the moment, enjoying the stillness of the night.

“Look at the view,” he says gently, nodding toward the large window. You follow his gaze and see the glimmering lights of Budapest spread out before you, the city glowing under the night sky.

“It’s breathtaking,” you whisper in astonishment, your eyes brightening at the stunning sight. When you turn back to Austin, the sparkle in his eyes mirrors the beauty of the city, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.

You kiss him deeply, your hands trailing down his chest as he pulls you closer, his mouth molding perfectly to yours with each kiss. His hands slide down your waist, then over your ass, cupping and squeezing as your tongues dance together.

The intensity of the kiss makes the rest of the world fade away, and you don’t even realize the others have left, giving you two a moment of privacy.

Austin breaks the kiss, the sudden quiet catching his attention. He grins, his eyes filled with desire as he whispers, “Come to my room,” his voice low and seductive, his gaze locking with yours.

“Okay,” you whisper back, completely captivated, unable to resist the pull between you.

Once you step into Austin’s room, the first thing you notice is the soft glow of moonlight streaming through the large windows. The light spills across the room, highlighting a four poster bed draped with sheer, flowing curtains.

The furniture is all natural wood, and soft linen fabrics in muted beige tones. The only other light comes from a small lamp in the corner, casting a warm, soft glow. The atmosphere is calm, intimate, and the moonlight makes everything feel almost dreamlike.

Austin takes your hand, his touch warm and gentle as he leads you toward the curtained bed. The moonlight casts soft shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity in his eyes as he looks at you. The room feels quiet, intimate, the world outside fading away as he pulls you closer, his fingers intertwining with yours.

Austin sits on the edge of the bed, still holding your hand, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. He looks up at you, the moonlight catching the soft smile on his lips.

“Tonight was perfect,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “I loved every second of it… the laughter, the dancing… just being with you. It was the kind of night you don’t want to end.”

You smile softly, stepping closer until you’re standing right between his legs. “Let’s not think about the night ending now,” you whisper, your hand gently brushing through his hair. “We’re here, together. That’s all that matters.”

Austin’s eyes darken with desire as he places his hands on your waist, pulling you even closer. “You’re right,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with affection. “Just us… right now.”

Your lips capture his in a slow, deep kiss, and you feel his breath hitch as he pulls you even closer. His hands grip your waist, firm but tender, as the kiss deepens, filled with unspoken desire and the lingering thrill of the night.

His fingers trail slowly down your sides, gently pulling at your dress until it slips down, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. His gaze follows the movement, filled with admiration and desire, before he leans in, pressing soft kisses along your collarbone, his touch both tender and electrifying. The connection between you feels undeniable, the night unfolding with a quiet intensity that makes your heart race.

His mouth moves lower, grazing your nipples with soft, deliberate kisses. Each touch of his lips sends a shiver through you, his breath warm against your skin. His hands steady you as his mouth explores, lingering on the curve of your breast, the intimacy between you deepening with every slow, sensual movement.

You sigh heavily, your breath catching as you hold his shoulders, your fingers gripping him tightly. The warmth of his mouth on your breasts sends waves of pleasure through you, and you can feel the tension building between you both, the anticipation heightening with each moment.

His fingers trace slowly down your back, his touch light sending a shiver up your spine. He moves his fingers with purpose, exploring every curve as his mouth continues its tender assault on your nipples.

His fingers slide lower, gripping your hips, pulling you closer as the heat between you intensifies. Every touch, every movement, feels euphoric, drawing you deeper into the moment.

He slips his fingers beneath fabric of your panties, his fingers brushing against your wetness with a teasing softness. The sensation makes your breath hitch, the closeness between you both becoming even more intimate.

His touch is slow and deliberate, as if savoring every second, and the warmth of his hands against your bare skin sends a flood of desire coursing through you.

You step back, your eyes locked on his, and slowly begin to remove your panties, the air between you charged with anticipation. Austin watches you, his gaze filled with desire, before pulling his shirt over his head in one swift motion. The moonlight casts soft shadows over his toned abs and chest, and for a moment, you both just linger there, taking each other in, the silence heavy with unspoken desire.

He stands, his eyes never leaving yours, and slowly unbuttons his jeans, the sound of the zipper breaking the quiet between you. His movements are deliberate, as he lets his jeans fall to the floor.

You glance down, momentarily breathless, your eyes widening with surprise and admiration at the size of his cock. The sight of him standing naked and erect stirs something deep inside, and you feel a flush of heat rise in your cheeks. Your gaze lifts back to his, the desire between you both intensifying as his lips curve into a knowing smile, aware of the effect he has on you.

He steps closer, his hands finding your waist again, pulling you gently against him, his breath warm on your skin as he leans in, whispering, “I’ve wanted this all night.”

He kisses you deeply, his lips firm and full of need as he guides you back toward the bed. With gentle pressure, he lays you down on the soft sheets, his body hovering above yours. His hand roams over your skin as he leans down, capturing your lips again with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter. He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, the connection between you undeniable.

His hand reaches over to the nightstand, retrieving magnum package. He tears it open with a swift, practiced motion, his eyes never leaving yours as he rolls it on his large cock.

“I want to take my time,” he says, his voice low and laced with desire. “I want to savor every moment with you.” He says looking deeply your eyes.

“Of course Austin,” you smile resting your hands gently on his shoulders. He leans in closer pressing his hips down entering you slowly, the sensation of fullness making you gasp softly as your body adjusts to him. The stretch is intense yet incredibly satisfying as he guides his cock deeper inside pressing the weight of his body down on you.

His lips find yours, capturing every breathy sigh with a kiss as he penetrates inch by inch until he settles to the depth that makes you moan in pain. You can feel the deep ache from taking his large size.

“I’m gonna make it feel better” He promises and begins with steady, deliberate thrusts, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly, as the pain slowly begins to fade into pleasure.

“Austin..you whimper feeling every deep stroke of his cock.

“I know,” he whispers against your lips, his breath warm and full of affection. He continues his slow, rhythmic thrusts as his hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly along your skin.

His other hand grips your waist, grounding you in the moment as the intensity builds. With each thrust, the connection between you grows deeper, until you feel the tension building to peak, your body responding to his with a growing need.

“Austin …I’m so close” you breath and he responds by increasing his pace making your body arch into his. You can feel your orgasm approaching as your walls begin to flutter around his cock.

His grip tightens, and he moves harder, each thrust more deliberate and powerful than the last. You feel every inch of him, the heat and intensity building between you as the moment reaches its peak, your bodies perfectly in sync as you both near the edge, and then it hits—a wave of pure pleasure crashing over you both.

His body tenses, his grip tightening as he lets out a deep, guttural moan, and you feel the warmth of his release pulse inside you as you moan in pleasure. Your orgasm follows, overwhelming and intense, leaving you breathless as you cling to him, your bodies moving perfectly together at the height of pleasure.

He rests his forehead gently against your shoulder, both of you still catching your breath, wrapped in the warmth of the moment you just shared. Slowly, he pulls back, sliding his cock from your warmth and laying on his side. With a quiet sigh, he slips the condom off, the sound of it snapping softly in the room, and leans over to place it in the bin near the bed.

Once he’s done, he pulls the covers up, wrapping his arms around you, drawing you close so that you’re facing each other. His eyes meet yours with a quiet affection as he brings you both under the blanket.

“I don’t want you to leave me,” he whispers, his voice soft and filled with sincerity. A warm smile spreads across his face as his eyes lock onto yours, tender and full of affection. He holds you tightly, his fingers gently tracing slow, comforting circles on your back.

You smile softly, brushing your fingers through his hair, “I’ll be here until the end of the week.” you reveal and there’s a hint of sadness in your voice, knowing your time together is limited.

Austin shifts slightly, pulling you closer, his gaze steady and filled with determination. “Stay with me,” he says, his voice gentle but insistent. “You don’t have to leave. We can figure it out. I want more time with you… as much as we can get.”

He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. “Please,” he whispers, looking into your eyes. “Stay a little longer. We’ll make it work.” The sincerity in his voice makes your heart swell, and the thought of leaving suddenly seems impossible.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want that,” you admit softly, your fingers tracing gentle patterns on his chest. “But now… I don’t want to leave either.”

You pause, biting your lip before answering, “Okay. I’ll stay. I don’t know what happens after, but right now, I just want to be here—with you.” Your smile grows as you see the relief and happiness in his eyes, knowing you’ve made the right decision.

He kisses your forehead softly, his lips lingering for a moment. “I want to take you to set tomorrow,” he says, his voice filled with excitement.

You’re flattered and a bit surprised by the offer, before you can respond, he adds with a playful grin, “I’ve been having some wild ideas for the scene I’ll be filming”

Your eyes widen with intrigue “like what?”

He grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he says. “Licking a knife to test its sharpness … while wearing a ceremonial loincloth.”

There’s a brief pause, the absurdity of the image hanging in the air, and then both of you burst into laughter, the sound filling the quiet room. He pulls you close, his arm wrapping around you tightly as the laughter fades and his smile remains soft and content.

The warmth between you lingers, and soon you find yourselves drifting off to sleep together, perfectly at ease in each other’s arms.

🧳 End 🧳

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[cod-imagines-fanfiction]

Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend part 7 (3.4k words)

Summary: Now in the custody of the Mexican Army, Y/N is transferred to an incarceration facility and meets her unexpected bunkie

Warnings: LESBIAN SMUT, filth but very loving :) Note at the end Link to A03 Links to part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

The journey to prison seemed never-ending. Y/N watched the world beyond from the small window next to her, watched as they traversed past dry, yellow fields, past abandoned gas stations. Past faded, rusty signs that were littered with bullet holes. She watched the world dim as the sun fell, the soft glow of twilight as the sun dipped below the horizon. The oranges and pinks shone so briefly but beautifully on the sky right before the darkness descended. The man across from her said that Valeria was in the van behind them. If there was such a van, it was way behind them and impossible to see. She only hoped that this misery would soon be over, that the cold metal bands around her wrists would be removed and she could walk free.

Only that she wouldn't. She and Valeria had reached the point of no return, that much she knew. The life they lived before - the secluded glamour, their intoxicating, opulent love - vaporised into nothingness. They cheated the world all these years and pretended that the truth wouldn't - couldn't - reach them. That the world would forget about their queer domesticity, their illegal lifestyle. Illegal because that lifestyle was funded entirely by drug money and violence. But the balancing scales finally tipped and Valeria would get what the world believed she deserved. And seemingly, the drugs were only part of the picture. Missiles. Terrorism. You'd heard those words scattered in conversations relating to Valeria and they made you shudder. There was a darkness that, so far, had lived on the periphery of your life with Valeria. A darkness that could be suppressed, that you could pretend was not really there. You pretended that the diamond jewels Valeria dressed you in were bought with honest money. Pretend that the men brought to the tunnelled rooms beneath your house were there for job interviews, not for interrogations. Pretended that Valeria's cars were made with heavy doors because it was her personal taste, not because she needed bulletproof transportation.

These fictions were no longer tangible, no longer capable of retaining their glamour. You and Valeria would have to pay for all of it, finally. Y/N knew that one of these days her tears would fall and she would not be able to stop them.

It was all mechanical after that. The van approached a looming structure of concrete and barbed wire, of guard towers and dogs. The van was checked and allowed to enter. Y/N shrank away from the gazes of all these men. The Captain across from her, the driver, the guards, the soldiers waiting beyond. The door was opened and you were flung out, shackles and all. The Captain put his arm through yours, a precaution in case you tried to escape. It almost made you laugh. There was nowhere to run to and all these men were impossible to run from. "No papers?" A guard asked the Captain, his eyes raking over your form. You became acutely aware of your attire, the pyjamas, and how they contrasted with the uniforms of these men. Your light, thin pyjamas were built for comfort and aesthetics. And their kit, bulky and covering every inch of them, was built for battle. "No, sir. Special case. Courtesy of General Shepherd." The Captain nodded to him knowingly. It felt illegal that they would jail you without even a passport or some form of ID, but you didn't dare say anything. You weren't sure what rights you had, if you had them. The process beyond that was glaringly odd. You entered what looked like the reception of the facility. Your pockets were checked - there was nothing. You were not identified but were given an ID card and a uniform to change to.

"Am I in prison?" You asked. "No, ma'am. Temporary custody, it's like jail." You stared at the uniform in your hands, then back to the guard. "Why am I wearing this then?" He cleared his throat. "It's more modest, ma'am." "Oh," you said stupidly and changed. Thankfully, you were not searched for anything. It was nothing like the scary stories Valeria would tell you from those who were caught and imprisoned due to her operations. Of people made to kneel and cough in all their nakedness, of guards probing their bodies and leering. When you came out from the changing area, the Captain was gone, presumably because he'd handed you off to the right authorities. That's all you were to them, something to be passed off and transferred from point A to point B. Something to be processed and shelved.

The guard was waiting for you. "This way," he said and buzzed you into the facility. Greyness and coldness prevailed in this place. The labyrinthiness of it made your head spin, every hallway was the same, and every corner was like the one you'd seen before. The doors were the same, even the guards looked like the same person but multiplied. The reality of it all pressed down on you oppressingly, you held in your tears and followed the man. Your heart hammered in your chest when you heard the yells of men, muffled behind the concrete but hysterical in their intensity. The guard must've noticed the panic in your eyes. "You will be held in the private women's wing. Special case gets special privileges." He almost sounded hopeful, but you weren't sure if the final part was meant to make you feel any better about your situation. The panic did subside, however. Another gate stood in front of you and you were processed through that one, too. The women's wing, you presumed.

The women's private wing was completely empty, the cells clearly vacant by the fact that their doors were wide open. There were two floors and a guard post staring at them. No windows. Your footsteps echoed across the chamber, the silence was defeaning. "You're in here," he said and deposited you to one of the rooms. It was a small room scarcely furnished with a toilet and a metal bunk. A pillow, a thin mattress and a blanket summarised your belongings for the time being. "Do I get time in the yard or anything?" You said as you turned around but the door was slammed in your face. You jumped back. "That's not how jail works," he said and walked off. You stared through the door's window for some time, becoming self-conscious with each passing moment. Apart from the lack of freedom and the possibility of spending a lifetime incarcerated, you were troubled with the hygienic aspect of things. Can they see inside when you go to the bathroom? It was something you always wondered about when you watched crime TV and you now had a personal investment in the topic.

"Don't worry, amor. They won't peek through."

You almost fell to your knees. Your hand reached out in time to hold on to the door as you heard her voice. You didn't have time to turn around, her warm hands were already on you as she hugged you from behind. Her body emanated warmth as she pressed herself against you and you felt her frame envelop yours. Her warmth, the scent of her sweat lightly masqued by her perfume. Valeria's hands caressed your sides and travelled up and down your body, eagerly. One of her hands slithered beneath your shirt and past your bra. She cupped one of your breasts and squeezed as her face rested on your shoulder, lightly coating the side of your neck with breathy kisses. You always shivered when she did this and let out a shaky breath, carefully releasing a relieved whimper. You tried to speak but struggled to release the words coherently. Each attempt started with a pitiful vowel which was drowned by a hot kiss, it resulted in a cascade of pitiful, small sounds that were interrupted by the sound of wet lips and light moans.

Actions spoke louder than words with Valeria. There was no point in saying how much she missed you when she could show it. She squeezed your nipple sharply. You yelped as expected and she took the chance to enter your mouth with her tongue. She could feel your flustered embarrassment given your surroundings and chuckled as you tried to kiss her lightly and more quietly. She refused your demands and kissed you harder, sloppier; louder. You finally broke off, breathless. "They'll hear us," you said as she moved on to your neck without skipping a beat, kissing your jaw. "They left the post, baby," she said and moved to your ears. Valeria's tongue flickered on your lobe, knowing how ticklish her warm breath made you, how it made your whole body squirm. "Special privileges," she whispered and started nibbling on your skin.

"Baby," you pouted to her. A frenzied passion arose within Valeria. All that time she spent away from you, all that fear about your safety, the despair she felt when she thought she would never see you again; that you were hurt or tortured, that you were bullied and exploited whilst she could do nothing to protect you. All those feelings made her desperate to touch you, to feel that you really were there. To feel your soft skin and to see for herself that you were not bruised or hurt. With each caress and with each touch, she wanted to feel that you were unharmed, untouched. And with each examining touch, arousal glowed within her body, that special warm feeling intensifying between her legs. She missed you; all of you. One of her hands was blissfully busy with your breasts, moving from one to the other and eliciting many praises from your body; twitching and whimpering with all the stimulation. Unable to help herself, Valeria allowed her other hand to to caress your tummy, which she loved, and then lower to the band of your trousers, teasingly. You wiggled excitedly in her grasp, loving to see her so excited with you. "You're so crazy, baby," you mumbled and delivered kisses to her face. Her hand then went lower to your crotch, fondling that sensitive spot hungrily. You yelped in response. "What if they walk in on us, my love?" You asked her and wiggled your hips to escape her touches, fending off her wicked teasing.

"I already told you, princess," she said and continued caressing your sensitive spot with more intensity, following the rhythm of your hips. "They've all left their post." Hearing quiet noises escape from your careful control excited her even more, Valeria couldn't deny how much she loved moments where this dynamic manifested in your relationship. Her intense, playful teasing when you were not in an entirely private place. Your assertions of propriety and decency. How Valeria would persist with her argument and teasing, your eventual, blissful surrender. You remained unconvinced and so she pressed you forward with her body, making you peek out of the little window on the door. "Look for yourself, they're all gone," she said. You lifted yourself a bit higher and looked on. You surveyed the space and saw how empty it was, with no guard posted, and no cameras. You hummed to yourself as you judged the safety of the situation. You made a noise with your assent. "You're right, there's no on-", with no hesitation Valeria plunged her hand past your trousers and your underwear, her fingers reaching out to your sex. "You're happy, now?" She whispered to your ear as her middle finger found your clit and moved your wetness up and down. She felt your jaw tighten as she continued that movement agonizingly slow but with more pressure, making your hips press against her. "Use your words, princess," she whispered into your ear. "Yes, baby. I'm happy." You said quickly and breathlessly.

Valeria bit her lip and groaned quietly in your ear. "You're already so wet for me," she mumbled as her fingers moved faster. Her movements were sloppy and the contact with your skin emitted those wet noises that embarrassed you so much. She kissed your cheek and froze when she felt how wet your face was. "Baby, are you crying?" It was all too much. Everything that happened came back to you. The sudden kidnapping, the destruction of your home, the interrogation, your imprisonment and chaotic escape. You had not a moment to yourself to process anything before Valeria appeared. You loved her touch and longed for release, longed to touch her. And yet, your tears fell. "Fuck, I'm sorry." She span you around so that you were facing her. Her eyes widened with panic at the sight of tears falling steadily and silently down your face. She cupped your cheeks with her warm hands. "Too much too soon. You know how intense I am, baby." She pulled you in for a hug. You nuzzled your face in her neck and inhaled her scent, you exhaled shakily. "I missed you so much," you mumbled and held on to Valeria tightly. "I didn't understand what was happening."

Valeria cooed as she stroked your back. "I know, baby. I'm sorry." "I didn't tell them anything," you said. "I know my love, thank you." You kissed her cheek. Valeria moved backwards and sat on the bed. She pulled you close so that you were straddling her; the two of you kept hugging. It was one of the things that always made you feel better on a bad day, how Valeria would hold you like this and comfort you. How she would whisper sweet nothings in your ear as you cried or complained about whatever it was that upset you. "Did he hurt you?" You said as you lightly touched the dark circles on Valeria's neck. She tried not to wince, she knew who you were referring to. "I hurt him worse." She said and paused. "Did he hurt you?" She asked slowly, suddenly afraid of your answer. You shook your head. "No, he was just scaring me." Valeria released a relieved exhale. "You're a tough cookie, Y/N." You giggled lightly and Valeria's muscles relaxed lightly. "I knew you'd come for me," you said. "I'll always find you," Valeria said and you kissed deeply. Valeria was careful not to initiate anything given your fragile state, she only gave what you asked for. You pulled back to catch your breath and went back for a second kiss, then a third one.

You pulled back again and gazed into Valeria's dark eyes. She almost seemed drunk with her flushed cheeks and the way her eyelids hung low as if she was sleepy. But you knew better. "Is it true that you left Alejandro for me?" You asked. It wasn't the sexiest thing to say at this time, but the question burned inside you. Valeria never spoke about her romantic life before you. Even on the nights when you had a little too much to drink and felt a sudden spike of jealousy that made you ask, she never responded. You knew that if you didn't ask now, you'd be silent forever and the question would eat at you. You would gnaw on the chops of jealousy, licking your wounds for eternity. "Yes," she said in a husky, low voice. You kissed her again and moaned into her mouth; you were elated. The rumours were true! The satisfaction was so delicious and warm, you felt yourself glow from the inside like a firefly.

Valeria broke the kiss. "The day I met you...I'd never felt that way about anyone. I knew you'd be mine. You were made for me, Y/N." Her face moved close to yours, your lips almost touching. "Only for me," she whispered and your lips crashed. Your hands reached beneath Valeria's shirt and roamed across her back. You found that sensitive spot on her lower back that made her shiver and grazed that spot with your nails; she moaned. One of your hands continued roaming her back and swiftly unclipped Valeria's bra. "Did you feel like that too, Y/N? The day we met?" Valeria asked. You nodded. "It was like magic. You were so pretty..." You trailed off as Valeria removed her top along with her bra. She lowered her back so that it touched the bed and just lay underneath you, half-naked. Her nipples hardened as they were exposed to the chilly air of the cell, they looked beautiful and felt soft and warm when you touched them. "And?" Valeria whispered, enjoying how hypnotised you were by her chest. It was her favourite way of getting you quiet. "And...I was worried you wouldn't like me. You're intimidating, baby." Your voice was low as you continued touching her as you spoke.

Valeria bit her lip. "Am I intimidating now?" You shook your head with a smile. "No, you're so beautiful," you said and lowered your face close to her chest. Valeria held her breath. "I could just eat you," you mumbled and covered one of her nipples with your mouth, circling the soft bud with your tongue and lightly grazing it with your teeth. Valeria released a breathy exhale. You released her nipple and kissed the skin around it, warming up her chest with your breath and occasionally biting down hard enough to make her yelp underneath you. You circled her other nipple with your thumb. "You want to eat me?" Valeria asked so quietly that you almost didn't hear her. She sounded shy; you knew what she wanted. "More than anything," you said and trailed kisses down to her tummy.

You both fumbled with each other's clothes, you scattered everything to the ground and basked in your nakedness together. You lay on the bed and guided Valeria's hips so that she lowered her thighs around your head. It was pure, never-ending bliss. The two of you filled the room with your moans and gaps, making the metal bed squeak from the rhythm of your love. Valeria ground her sex on your mouth, one of her hands reaching down to move your mouth closer to her wetness as she sought her climax whilst the other reached back to pleasure your clit. Valeria's body glistened with her sweat, she was beautiful as she moved her body up and down, the soft parts of her body bounced ecstatically until she came and her body recoiled with pleasure. Valeria always came first, but you followed quickly after, moaning as Valeria's fingers penetrated your deepest core and sweetly hit your sensitive spot. With a muffled cry, you came on her fingers.

The two of you lay in the bed together for a long time after that, whispering in the darkness. "You should've seen the house, Y/N. It was in ruins. I thought you were gone for good...I don't know what I'd do without you." You kissed her shoulder lightly. "I'll always be with you, Valeria." She shook her head and sighed. "Fucking Alejandro. It's all his fault. I'd forgotten about him, you know. I forgot he even existed." Your mind wandered back to the moment he burst into your room. The rage in his eyes, the way he yelled as he grabbed you. "He's very scary. I can't picture the two of you together." Valeria chuckled bitterly. "It was complicated. But don't think about that now, it's time to rest." You looked at her anxiously. "What if they come in whilst we're asleep?" Valeria shook her head and tucked you in, pulling the blanket up to your chin so that you were nice and warm. "They won't, baby. Just go to bed."

You fell asleep almost instantly, the exhaustion finally caught up to you. Valeria's scent, warmth and steady heartbeat lulled you to sleep and you slept deeply knowing that you were safe in your wife's arms. Valeria stayed up and watched you for what felt like hours. She stared at your face, the way the faint glimmer of moonlight illuminated your skin and lashes. She watched your chest rise and fall. You were so trusting, so loyal. So devoted even as you hit rock bottom with Valeria, you could make the coldest jail cell glow with warmth. At that moment, Valeria really felt that she could be happy anywhere as long as you were next to her. She could sleep in the most narrow metal bed if it meant you'd be next to her. She kissed your forehead lightly before getting comfortable next to you, she did not dream of anything.

Note: Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! It's my first time writing smut but I think it worked out nicely and we finally reunited Valeria with her wife :D Although this could be read as the end, I'll write one more final part to tie up the plot because you best believe Valeria and her trophy wife ain't spending the rest of their life in prison!

Tag list: @justmare @silas-222 @m0rganit3 @blarba-girl @sleepiemain @caffeineliker @ashy-kit @00ops1e @lesvii @therapyneeds @lez-zuha @starre-eyes @7smexy7diva @hello-kitty-festival @konigmeu @cassiecasluciluce @gay-ass-country-boy @starwars-theclonewhore @bi-witch-bxtch @somnoslvt @ashthepillow @b3ns0ne  @idiotwrites @danart501 @deakyspuff @mistresssiri @angethehimbosimp @@sae1kie @00ops1e @yaebaal @p3arlier

[irisintheafterglow]

i'm having many thoughts about bf!satoru playing pretend with little megumi so bear with me.

"oh no, we've been hit by a sudden lightning storm! get down, buddy!"

"no, we haven't! your yelling is going to scare the tigers away."

"tigers? i thought we were in africa."

"we were in africa yesterday, but we took a ship to india and now we're looking at tigers."

"oh, you're right. sorry, i'm not good at keeping track of our travel itinerary."

"it's okay; that's why i write it all down in your passport."

the vague sounds of your boyfriend and your unofficial son ring out in the apartment. you shake out your umbrella and hang your coat by the door, the sounds of incessant rain pattering against your windows. your boys are nowhere to be found.

"megs? 'toru?"

"in here!" you follow your boyfriend's voice to the room that you've designated as megumi's room, a place for him to call his own whenever he wasn't staying with family. it was sparsely decorated because you'd only moved into the new space a few days ago, but it was already cozier than the stale dorms at jujutsu tech. "we've decided to adventure into the jungle," satoru says from within the tent pitched in the middle of the room.

"mhmm," you hum in amusement and slight confusion, "and where did you get the tent?"

"stole it," megumi pipes up, his face sticking out of the zippered door flap. he unzips the entrance all the way and you give your boyfriend an incredulous look. "satoru said it was okay."

"you stole it?" megumi snickers at your tone that makes satoru raise his hands defensively.

"you think yaga's gonna be camping in this weather, sweetheart?"

"you're teaching him that stealing is okay," you argue with a hand on your hip.

"if it's from yaga-"

"satoru," you chuckle, dragging a hand down your face. he really was an idiot when he tried to be. you can't say that megumi's smile wasn't making you happy, though. "look, just make sure he gets it back without him actually knowing it was gone."

"deal, now get in here," satoru says before grabbing your hand and tugging you into the tent. it's so small that his shoulders pull forward because he can't sit up straight and his hair brushes the top of the tent. it becomes even more cramped when you crash into the various pillows and blankets they'd pulled from the closet. "look at what we did." his finger points up at the string of lights they'd successfully strewn across the top perimeter of the tent, making your faces glow in soft hues of yellow and orange. "what time is it out there?"

"what, in the jungle?"

"in the real world," satoru corrects. "this explorer is getting a little hungry."

"it's almost 5:00, so we can grab something for dinner soon. but, first, i wanna see these tigers you're looking at." you run your hand through satoru's hair and he leans into your touch. megumi enthusiastically shows you his binoculars toy that changed pictures of different animals with the flick of a bright blue switch. as he plays, you lean back into satoru's chest and his arms wrap around your body. "what were you thinking for dinner, love?"

"i was thinking soup, but i'm good with whatever you're craving," he murmurs in your ear. "i'm just glad you're home."

"me too. maybe we can go furniture shopping tomorrow if the weather lets up," you suggest. his body is warm like a space heater and it's a nice contrast to the chilly winter storm raging on outside.

"i'm also just as happy to sleep in this tiny little tent with you and the kid."

"i love you, satoru."

"i love you more. also, we should get him more pictures for that little toy."

"or, i just portal us to see some actual tigers." you feel him laugh softly against your body. "i could portal us to africa, too. just depends on your itinerary."

"you're very funny," he deadpans lightheartedly.

"i know i am. it's why you love me so much."

"very true. i'll go anywhere as long as i'm with you."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[hugejk]

2 years

pablo gavi x singer!yn

cw: mentions of drug usage, smoking, drinking, addiction.

quick a/n: sorry i’ve been VERY inactive lately, i do want to write more so i’ll accept any footballer reqs!!! :-)

||_________________________||

“it’s been 2 years since we’ve seen or heard from y/n, where could she be? Most people assume she decided to quit making music, some assume she gained too much weight and is too ashamed to step out in public. But i guess we won’t know for a long time now, leave a comment below on what you think about this.”

you sigh and put down your phone. It’s been 2 years since you’ve even been in the studio at all. A 2 year hiatus from the world. Flashbacks start to play in your head on how you even ended up here.

. . .

sitting out on the edge of balcony watching all the glowing stars surrounded by the darkness of the night. You life was a mess. Parties every other night, surrounded by people who didn’t care if they ruined their life. Taking random drugs whenever you could. Drinking most of the day. The joint inbetween your fingers burning into ash. You couldn’t stand it anymore.

You were just tired of everything, and the comments on every little thing you did made everything more worse.

“maybe y/n should take a break from all the parties..”

“look at her eyes, they look dead.”

“she’s just a drug addicted psychopath. Hope she stops soon and gets some treatment.”

you were tired of all eyes on you. Biting the inside of your bottom lip, the tears started to accumulate in your eyes. Taking a big hit of the joint, feeling the burn but not feeling anything anymore. You knew there was only one way to stop getting so much attention.

Putting out the joint and heading into your apartment and opening up your laptop. You log into the device and search for flights to Barcelona. Little did you know, this small decision would change your life forever.

you didn’t tell anyone about this. You packed your bags, reset your phone, and went to bed. The next morning you had ordered and uber. Covering your face with a hat, mask, and sunglasses. You didn’t want the spotlight anymore. It took a good 30 minutes to get to the nearest airport. You wonder if anyone will even care if you disappeared, stopped making music, stopped replying to texts, stopped calling, stopped everything.

you didn’t want to live the life you had anymore. what you once thought was a blessed now had transformed into a curse right in front of your eyes. Becoming something far more evil than you thought. You remember a little y/n looking up to famous singers, wanting what they wanted. Wanting the light, wanting the eyes, wanting what they had.

but now that you had finally grasped it after years of putting everything into it, it felt like a living hell. You look up from your lap, and you were at the airport. The driver looking back at you to let you know that you had arrived, taking out your wallet fast and tipping him 15 bucks, you scurried out the black SUV, grabbing your bags from the back and trying to avoid eye contact with anyone.

A new start. You walked into the front doors of the airport, not ready to start the tedious process just to get checked in. You sighed and headed straight for check in. You just wanted to get it done and over with, but unfortunately you were in america and going to another country. They needed to identify who you were.

“trip to barcelona? can i see a passport please?”

the blonde headed lady behind the counter asked, you handed her the passport and leaned in to whisper into her ear,

“you didn’t see me here.”

as you lifted the glasses and took down the mask, a serious look on your face. You could see her eyes light up as she saw the world’s most known singer standing in front of her. But she obliged to your words and wished you a good flight as she handed the passport back.

after the whole process was over, you sat in those uncomfortable waiting seats in your terminal. Tapping your finger on your already shaking leg. You didn’t have a plan for barcelona. Fuck. Do you go seek professional help like all the comments had said? Do you stop making music? Do you take the time to heal and finally find yourself? Your mind running at a pace you couldn’t keep up with. You took a deep breath.

After a few hours of waiting they finally started calling for your flight. You couldn’t even feel nervous or excited, you were just so numb on the inside, dissociated from the world you stand on. time was flying by, one second you were waiting to be called, the next second you were in your seat, and in the blink of an eye…you were in barcelona.

Stepping off the plane, going through another tedious journey just to hit the streets of barcelona—and cry. You didn’t know what the fuck you were doing in that city. You had no house, barely enough money to hold you over for a few nights, because when you packed you thought it would be smart to only pack a little bit of your funds. Fuck. You had nothing and nobody.

Walking around the streets like a lost child, luckily for you, you knew spanish, most of it. Your mom’s side was hispanic. So from a young age she made it her duty to teach you. Thanks mom.

you manage to find a hotel, you walk in puffy eyed. Thank god for those glasses.

“do you have any available rooms?..”

you said silently, the poor lady who was working that night nodded. it looked like she needed a break more than you did. she asked for how many nights,

“uhm…just like…just a few nights.”

“im gonna need an exact number honey this hotel is going to be booked by fc barcelona soon. we need all the rooms we can take.”

you knew some stuff about football, when you were younger you would watch matches with your dad. You were even on your towns small team, hoping one day you could make it big. Other things got in the way of that.

“uhm..just 3 nights is good..”

“that’s better, that’ll be about 400. do you want room service?”

“no thank you.”

she nodded, as you handed her your card, she charged it and slid you your key. Now you were on your own. you had taken your sim card out your phone so nobody could contact you. But now you were staring to regret it. You sat on the edge of the hotel bed. You knew you had to take some time to reset, it started now.

||______________________||

a/n: plsplsplspls let me know if i should make a part 2, this was kinda just like a starting point, also inbox is very very VERY open for ideas ;-) also this is a little bit darker than what i usually write, but for what i have in mind it does get fluffier the more it goes on.

[evolution-ofa-geek]

GLOW S1E7 - Live Studio Audience

Episode 131 - GLOW hosts its first live show at the gym, but things go out of hand when Carmen suffers from stage fright and the booked tag team match between Cherry and Tammé vs Dawn and Stacy is given an unexpected twist. Debbie and Ruth seek outside help with their moves, and Rhonda gives Sam a good-luck gift. And I try to go Live on Twitter and it fails miserably.

[evanchantingpeters]

How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 5)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff, Romance

Summary ─ While filming Tron, Y/N follows Evan up in Canada, eager to surprise him for his birthday. But what starts as a joyous occasion quickly turns into a heated argument. But you know what they say about fireworks: they explode, and boy, do these two ignite into frustration and passion. Will their clash lead to a blazing reunion, or will it all go up in smoke? Hazard a guess😏

Warnings ─ Swearing, oral (both receiving), food porn, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, bondage, BDSM, mild daddy kink, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, birthday sex, missionary, nutty smutty— based on public demand ;)

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 | Read Part 4

Word count ─ 3.8K

18+ This is ADULT content. I’m not your mummy to supervise your net access. If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

20 January, 2024, Vancouver

Your tears blur your vision as you stand in the kitchen of the Airbnb, the temporary shelter you share with Evan. The cold glow of your phone screen illuminates the screenshot of Adria’s last hurtful texts, sent just before she blocked you earlier this month.

You haven’t spoken since, and the silence gnaws at your heart, tearing at the fabric of a friendship you once believed was unbreakable. She was the kind of friend you didn’t need a social battery for, the one you always dreamed of growing old together.

Your mind involuntarily does a wild backflip, taking you back to when all the drama with her first unfolded, and your throat starts to close up as your bottom lip trembles, threatening to bring another full-blown sob fest.

*flashback alert*

You and Evan were lounging on your bed, both in your undergarments, basking in the lazy aftermath of the Emmy Awards bash a day later.

Tabloids were ablaze with afterparty pics, splashing your face as the ‘enigmatic woman’ next to Evan Peters. Headlines screamed speculation and gossip rags were practically hyperventilating, going into detective mode to uncover your identity. Whispers and rumours spread like wildfire through the gossip mill, making you feel you were under a microscope.

Whenever you’d feel the sting of public scrutiny, even on your social media accounts, Evan would nonchalantly wrap an arm around you and remind you with a reassuring smile, “Let them guess, baby. Let them spin their stories. They’re just bored, no life. We know the truth, and that’s all that counts. Don’t let them rent space in your head.”

Evan was now deep into his phone, navigating the maze of paperwork needed to smuggle you into Canada without an American passport. His fingers moved absently, tracing soothing patterns on your back.

“Baby, maybe we should go for a visitor visa or an eTA... Electronic...Travel Authorization, or whatever the hell that is. It’s the quickest way to get you in,” he muttered more to himself than to you, his brows furrowed in concentration as he scrolled further.

But you just laid sprawled out beside him, limbs tangled on him in a delicious mess, your breasts spilling over his chest. You were barely listening to all things bureaucracy over the addictive scent of his skin and his rhythmic heartbeat, aligning with the rise and fall of his breathing.

You not using a single brain cell when with your man...

You admired the perfect curve of his side profile, the little mole on the tip of his nose that always made you smile. Your fingers grazed over the ridges of his toned abs, a silent appreciation for the masterpiece he was as your mind replayed the epic dick he served you up the night before.

Your clitoris was practically combusted after that, but your period, dear Aunt Flo, decided to pay a surprise visit earlier than expected. Of course she would...

And that’s when your own phone exploded into a frenzy with Adria’s messages. If the media uproar felt invasive, hers cut deep, and it was super personal.

“Tha fuck,” you cried out, hurling yourself off the bed. You frantically unlocked the phone to read the full conversation, the venomous words on the screen hitting you like a sledgehammer. “Listen to this,” you shouted, your voice shaking with fury as you read her brutal attack aloud for Evan to bear witness, each word dripping with malice.

Evan watched, perched on the edge of the bed, his eyes widening with every syllable. His face paled as he took in the vitriol of phrases like, “pathetic boyfriend’s lil junk,” “shove it up your ass,” “he’s using you,” “useless gold digger,” “you’re dead to me, bitch”.

You exploded, launching into a tirade about Adria’s betrayal. “She’s showing her true colours now, isn’t she? ‘Friend, my ass!’ What a snake!” your voice broke with the intensity of your anger and hurt.

Evan moved to your side, throwing a black tank top on, his expression a mix of hopelessness and sympathy. He was stunned, his eyes brimming with concern for you. You felt the weight of his worry, but also the unconditional support in his gaze. You collapsed into his waiting arms, snuggling your head up in his lap. His delicate hand was soothingly running through your hair as you sobbed hard and fast, each tear absorbed by his fingertips like it was nothing as you let it all out.

“Yea, baby, what she said was messed up, no doubt,” he murmured looking down to meet your eyes as you turned over to face him. “But sometimes people lash out when they’re projecting or hurting. You had every right to keep it private for as long as you wanted, but maybe she felt left out 'cause you were keeping this big chunk of your life from her. Doesn’t excuse her going full nuclear, but it might explain where she’s coming from.”

Your chest heaves with another wave of tears, gripping onto his leg for dear life.

“Shh.. it’s gonna be alright, my love,” Evan whispered, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “Look, you’re in pain from her harshness, and that’s valid. But if there’s even a slim chance of salvaging the friendship, it might be worth a shot to talk it out. Doesn’t mean you gotta forgive and forget right away, but at least give her a chance to explain... If she doubles down on the crazy, then yeah, maybe it’s time to move on.”

*flashback ends*

The oven timer jolts you back to the present moment, snapping you out of your memories. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you pull out the Pyrex dish with dinner and strike a match, igniting the candles on Evan’s cake. You know he doesn’t fancy extravagant night outs for his birthday, so you’ve planned a cosy burrito night in for him.

With a quick glance at your phone, you see his response, “I’m a few blocks away, undress yourself” to your earlier string of messages,

miss your loads

**miss you loads

well, both I guess

His reply buys you just enough minutes to set up the surprise.

Yes, the moment you touched down in Vancouver, Evan had to rush off to set. Yes, even on his birthday.

As you hustle to put the final touches in the dining area, you check the candles to be sure they’re all lit. The warm glow casts a romantic ambience, shadows dancing on the walls, amplifying the anticipation.

Suddenly, the familiar jingle of keys in the lock from the hallway sends your heart racing, your pulse pounding with enthusiasm and nerves.

“Happy birthdaaaay!” you exclaim, arms thrown in the air, as he saunters in with a charming wide grin, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you buzzing around the room.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he teases, his voice rich and satin as he takes in the scene. His hungry gaze lingers on you a little too long, and it sends electric pulses of desire across your core.

“Just making sure your birthday is as hot as you are,” you quip, your tone sticky with innuendo as you lock eyes with a sultry smirk. 

He chuckles, cheeks flushing, as he paces closer to you with a crooked smile and a glint in his eye. His smirk expands as he corners you against the table. “Oh, is that so?” he hums seductively, yanking you tightly onto his chest, his hands tracing fiery paths over your body.

You nod, shooting him a mischievous smile as you pass him a small bag with your present. He gasps in excitement as he tears the wrapping apart to unveil a bulky watch, similar to his old one. “It fits like a glove,” he cries out, quickly fastening it on his wrist only to swing you around right after, his joy infectious as he holds you close.

“Thanks a bunch, my baby. That’s a top-tier surprise, especially now that I don’t have my family around,” he mumbles, and you notice as his eyes glisten with unshed tears. “I truly love you, Y/N.”

Your heart swells as you drown into his misty eyes. “I love you too, Evan. It’s not much, but I couldn’t just shrug your birthday away without making it special. You like it?”

“Like it? I adore it, Y/N. You have no idea how much this means to me and how you bring the best out of me,” he sighs against your ear, sending tremors down your spine.

Before you can respond, his hands slip under your dress. Tugging at your strapless bra and pinching softly at your nipples, his tongue slowly twirls with yours, making your pussy leap and leak for him. Aching for his touch, you moan into his mouth, your body melting into a slime in his grasp.

Breaking the kiss, Evan’s breath burns against your breasts like a firestorm of passion as he murmurs huskily, “Why isn’t my birthday wish fulfilled yet?”

With a devilish grin, you meet his gaze, your lips a mere breath away from his. “I’m your genie for the night, sir. You ask, I shall deliver,” you purr, your hand teasing the stiffness that strains his slacks, feeling his need for you pulsating beneath your touch.

“You, on this table covered in cake.”

Your hands rub harder on his erection, drawing soft groans from him as you nibble on his neck. “Consider your wish granted,” you whisper, your voice a silken promise as you push him back slightly. Clutching his jaw, you guide his head toward the table, your touch both commanding and tender. “But don’t you want to have a bite and tell me about your day first?”

He puckers his lips, narrowing his eyes in mock contemplation, before a wicked smile spreads across his face. “Yea, I suppose I should think with my top head for a bit. Let’s enjoy this delicious dinner you’ve made, and after that, baby, I promise, I’m gonna take my time licking every inch of you clean,” he coos, and strides over his cake.

As he leans in to blow out the candles, you stand next to him, clapping, cheering, and chanting the old-age birthday song, your phone capturing every moment for your mutual private collection. The room is bathed with the warm glow of candlelight and the sweet odour of dessert.

As the last wisp of smoke from the extinguished candles curls upwards, he turns to you with a playful smile, and that’s only a prelude to the real feast that awaits you both.

Evan’s re-enactment of Jared Leto’s and his own over-the-top method acting antics has you in stitches as you wrap up your meal. “Alright, alright,” he says, attempting to mimic his character’s intense gaze and dramatic voice.

He picks up a small dish, holding it aloft like it’s the most important object in the world. “This…is no ordinary plate. It’s our shield against the vice forces of the universe.”

You can’t help but snort, staring at him incredulously, “What has this shield gone through?” you inquire, unable to contain your amusement.

Evan grins, clearly pleased with himself, but stays in character. “No, no, Y/N, you don’t understand. This dish…I mean this shield has seen things. It has felt the scorching heat of the oven—like hell itself—and the icy chill of the fridge—colder than the North Pole. It’s been through a transformation!”

His priceless facial expressions send you into another fit of laughter, doubling over and clutching your sides. “Evan, stop! I can’t—” you gasp between fits of giggles. “You’re killing me!”

With exaggerated precision, he places the dish aside and grabs a glass, his face deadly serious. “And this glass,” he exclaims, holding it up like a sacred relic, “has held the nectar of the gods.”

Your laughter reverberates across the room as you lean against the table for support. “You guys are insane!” you choke out, still laughing.

He breaks character for a moment, his own hearty laughter bubbling up. “You think Leto goes this hard at home?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“I bet he does!” you reply, chuckling. “His poor dishes must be so confused.”

You dab your lips with a napkin, flashing a seductive smile to Evan as you stand up, the fabric of your flowy dress grazing against your skin in all the right places. You start gathering the crockery, the clinking of plates echoing in the room.

He takes a leisurely sip of his wine, eyes gleaming with mischief as he watches you intently. “Mmm, what do you think you’re doing there, miss?” he hums, waving his glass towards the dishes.

“I’m tackling the post-dinner cleanup before we open a cockroach motel in here,” you quip, balancing two plates on your forearm, the curve of your hip accentuated by the movement.

He raises his head with a hint of suspicion, his tongue lightly brushing against the sides of his teeth. With a smooth, predatory gait, he glides closer to you, his presence commanding and magnetic. His arm snakes around your waist until your bodies press extremely close together, as if he wants to meld into you.

He starts planting soft kisses on your neck, the warmth of his breath seeping into you and quickening your pulse. “That’s on me, baby girl. You cook, I wash—fair play.” His voice is a lush whisper tinged with playful allure, the undercurrent of raw ecstasy between you is in flames.

You look over your shoulder and move to the side, trying to slide away. “No, it’s your birthday, and I should spoil you,” you insist.

But Evan’s embrace only tightens, his crooked smile inviting trouble. Without warning, he whirls you around, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you breathless. The tempting aroma of alcohol and raspberries lingers on his breath, turning you on.

“What about my cake?” he murmurs against your lips, his hands massaging your ass before pressing against your throbbing sex. A choked moan escapes your lips, your need for him palpable.

With insatiable urgency, he strips you off your dress and deepens the kiss, leaving you only with your matching lingerie, a tantalising veil barely concealing your arousal.

He lifts you effortlessly, placing you atop the table with a low growl. Your breath catches as you feel the cool surface below you, contrasting sharply with the heat of his touch. He slides your panties down your thighs with a bitten lip, your tongues intertwining in a sensual dance.

Eager to feel more of him, you hastily fumble along the buttons of his shirt, your fingers trembling in anticipation. He stares at you with darkened eyes and a smirk, primal desire burning in his gaze, as he helps you rid him of the fabric separating you. 

He kisses and love bites his way down your upper half, leaving a trail of fire in his wake, until he reaches your pulsing cunt. 

As he grunts against your slippery folds, and you cover your mouth to stifle a scream, your surroundings seem to distort. It’s as if you’ve just dove into deep water, and his voice becomes muffled and distant, like you’ve submerged beneath the surface of a vast sea. Adria’s words echo through your mind, “he’s using you cause he’s stuck with his ex! Wake up!!” 

Panic seizes you, and you push him away mid-action, your breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts as you leap off the table. “Let’s have the cake now, Evan. I’ll bring spoons,” you retort hastily, your words spilling out in a frantic rush, your heart hammering against your ribcage like a wild drumbeat.

“I don’t mean eating it the conventional way…” he says, his chuckle mixed with traces of confusion.

As you hurriedly scramble to get into your dress and underwear, you move towards the kitchen with a racing heart, his voice ringing in your ears.

He rushes forward to block your path, gently grabbing your arm. “Is everything okay, Y/N? Why’re you avoiding me?” he questions, his brows furrowing in a blend of surprise and intrigue.

Your stomach always twists into knots whenever he addresses you by your government name instead of his endearing variations of “baby.” 

Your breath hitches as you pause, tension and uncertainty weaving through the atmosphere like a dense fog, obscuring your conscience. His rosy lips turn into a thin, anxious line as his eyes search yours for answers.

“I’m not, Evan,” you manage, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart, your cheeks warming under his penetrating gaze. “I just…nah, forget about it. I don’t want to ruin your special day,” you mutter, your words rushed and disjointed, a feeble attempt to brush off your inner turmoil with a forced hug and kiss.

But he won’t let you escape so easily. He gently pulls you back, cupping your face in between his thumb and index finger. “What is it, baby? You can speak to me,” he urges, his tone soft but insistent. His eyes flicker around your face, concern etched into every line of his handsome face.

You lower your head and roll your lips into your mouth as tears are on the verge to spill. “I want there to be more to us than just sex,” you finally muster the courage to verbalise, your voice shaky.

His eyebrows shoot up, lips parting in disbelief. “But there is,” he fires back, his forehead creasing with lines of protest. “In fact, I’ve never felt a healthy and substantial connection like this before. It’s deeper than anything I’ve experienced,” he defends, his voice laced with desperate sincerity, his eyes imploring for you to understand.

He reaches out to pull you into his arms, his touch soft and comforting, but you step back, shaking your head in subtle denial.

He sighs in exasperation, his patience already fraying. “Honestly, what’s going on, Y/N?” he presses, his tone firmer.

You narrow your eyes at him, our tongue poking at your cheek, as your voice crescendos. “You wanna know what’s going on, Evan? You’re using me to get over your ex, that’s what’s going on,” you blurt out, arms folded across your chest. The words just tumble from your lips before you can stop them, charged by the doubt that’s been itching you.

His face contorts in shock, eyes widening, and his mouth hanging open in stunned silence. “What? Where did this come from?”

“It’s just something Adria threw at me,” you explain, compulsively rubbing your forehead, “she’s been in my head, making me doubt everything all over again.”

Evan’s eyes harden at the mention Adria, a glimmer of anger flashing across his features, but his touch remains delicate. “What did she say?” he asks, his tone rigid, but he’s clearly battling to keep his cool.

“It was her message the day we were at mine after the Emmy party,” you confess, croaking with the weight of your revelation. “She thinks you’re with me because you’re still hung up on your ex, and I’m your rebound.”

Evan’s expression darkens, a storm brewing behind his eyes as he’s reminded of these infamous texts. He pulls away slightly, a coldness suddenly creeping into his demeanour. “Thought we’re over this, Y/N. You know she’s just annoyed, hurt, or envious...dunno...that you didn’t say a word about our relationship, and she’s just trying to poison us.”

“How do I know that’s true?” you snap, frustration boiling over and your voice quivering with intensity as you confront him.

His jaw tightens, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. “You should trust me,” he persists, his voice strained with emotion. “I’ve done all I could to show you I’m committed to us. Why do you keep letting her get to you?”

“Because it’s not just her, Evan!” you cry out, your voice cracking. “It’s the internet, and sometimes, I feel it too. Like maybe you’re not over your ex, and I’m just a placeholder here to fill a void,” you admit, tears flooding down your face, your chest heaving.

“Y/N...don’t cry, please,” he whispers, his voice momentarily gentle yet tinged with worry. “That’s ridiculous!,” he continues calmer than before. “We all carry our personal baggage, but I’m with you because I want to be. If you can’t see or feel that, then what are we even doing?”

You take a step back, your own anger rising, your chest tighter than before. Your stare turns into a furious glare, your heart rate soaring. “I just needed to hear you say it, okay? you retort. “I needed to know that I’m not crazy for having these doubts.”

Evan runs a hand through his hair, frustration plastered into every tense muscle of his body. “I’ve told you a million times, Y/N. I love you. I’m here for you. If you can’t see or feel that, then maybe we need to rethink this. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

His words stay the air like a heavy cloud, suffocating the room with their weight. The silence that follows is deafening, amplifying the ache inside you.

He shakes his head, his voice low and bitter now. “Whatever,” he spits out, his footsteps stomping against the floorboards as he storms out of the room, leaving you standing there, heart thumping and more tears streaming down your face.

You lie on the couch, staring blankly at the TV droning on in a meaningless chatter as you absentmindedly flick through channels. The sound of the shower running in the background serves as a grim reminder of Evan, who, you bet, is still fuming even through closed doors.

Why tonight, of all nights, damn it all?? It’s his birthday, and it’s meant for joy and celebration, not this mess of baseless accusations and lame tears. You curse yourself for allowing Adria’s betrayal-infused ill-intent to infiltrate your mind, killing Evan’s love and dedication with your insecurities and silly suspicion.

The fight plays back in your mind like a horror movie on repeat, each word exchanged like a dagger to your heart. You recall Evan’s wounded face, the disbelief in his eyes...they haunt you all like ghosts in the night.

Your heart bleeds with regret as you realise the magnitude of your mistake, wishing you could just rewind and take your words back. The TV blares on, but the images just blur into a haze as you stay trapped in a loop of guilt and self-loathing.

The shower shuts off, and your heart skips a beat. You hear Evan moving around in the bathroom, the sound of the towel rack clinking, the soft thud of him stepping out. You squeeze the remote tighter, flipping through channels faster, trying to find something—anything—that could distract you from the impending confrontation.

Shortly after, he enters the living room, and you can’t help but drool over his on-my-knees-daddy-you’re-a-snack grey comfort shorts and white tank top, his hair damp and his expression weary. He glances at the TV, but says nothing.

The silence stretches, thick and constricting, and you feel you’re stuck in an endless, narrow cylindrical corridor that leads to nowhere. 

“Evan...” you dare, your voice wavering like a candle flame in a strong breeze, but it feels like screaming in a dream. 

He freezes, his back to you, shoulders stiffen as if bracing for impact. “What is it, Y/N?” His voice slices through the silence like a knife, sharp and guarded, a far cry from its usual warm and mellow timbre.

“I’m sorry,” the words spill from your lips, heavy with remorse, as you sit up on the couch. “My bad for bringing this up on your special day…very selfish of me, and I shouldn’t have let Adria’s words shake me like that.”

Evan turns slowly, his eyes piercing into yours as he flops onto the sofa next to you with a heavy sigh. “Then, why did you? Why allow her to destroy what we have?”

You take a shuddering breath, trying to alleviate the storm raging within you. “I don’t know… Maybe because, deep down, I’m terrified. Terrified that this is fleeting and all too good to be true. Terrified that I’m not enough for you.”

With a tentative move, he redirects his eyes towards you, the harsh lines of his expression softening just a fraction. “You’re more than enough, Y/N. But you have to trust and believe me. Why can’t you do that?” he asks, his voice regaining its soothing texture, akin to sweetened nectar.

“I’m trying,” you huff out before letting out a dramatic sigh, feigning a pout as your fingers caress along his stomach, getting lower along the edges of his firm abdomen. You admire the rugged strength of his arms, even in moments like this.

Well...damn, sir!

He squares his jaw, attempting to maintain his resolve (resulting in abject failure). “Try harder, Y/N because I need you in my life,” he mutters, his voice faltering slightly as you lean forward to trail kisses over his neck. Tough Evan is really like giving Bambi a gun.

It’s officially reckless business o’ clock. 

You sense the tension in his body easing, his reservations crumbling beneath your touch. With a mischievous spark in your eye, you close the gap between you, mere inches separating your lips. “But you know what I should do?”

He quirks his eyebrow, intrigued by the sudden shift in your attitude, but he instantly drops his head back, pretending to be unbothered. “I don’t care. I’m still pissed at you…but tell me, even though I don’t care,” he retorts, facing forward, but his need to know is crystal clear in his face.

You shoot him a playful grin as your fingers trace tantalising patterns along his bulge, feeling his hardness twitching under the fabric. “I should make it up to you,” you declare, an enchanting lilt to your voice, as you slowly undo the strings of his shorts.

A shudder courses through Evan’s body, jeopardising his composure. The intoxicating scent of your arousal and the softness of your touch prove too much for him to bear. “I’ve give you your own Kinder surprise,” you whisper seductively, your hand slipping underneath his shorts.

He fights to hide his growing erection, his breath comes in uneven gasps as he adjusts his shorts. “And what’s your grand plan?” he sighs, his voice husky with desire. His eyes are dark with anticipation while his resistance disintegrates with each passing second.

You sink between his legs, making him harder with every graceful sway of your hips. “Oh, I have a few ideas,” you chirp, pulling your hair up in a ponytail in an agonisingly slow pace.

You catch a glimpse of the outline of his cock protruding beneath his boxers (caught in 8k ultra HD), the fabric adorned with a tell-tale wet spot. Needless to say, he’s far more excited than he’s letting on. “Come on, baby Evan. Don’t play dumb with me.” 

Your mouth waters with anticipatory thrill, your wet centre throbbing with need. Your senses intensify, thighs instinctively clenching as you await him to shove down his shorts.

Evan swallows nervously, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. In a swift, “fuck it” motion, he loops down the waistband of his boxers until his cock springs free, standing proudly in the air. Your gaze, once fixated on the crop of dark pubic hair gracing the base, now observes the veiny pathways that run along his thick length, leading to the swollen tip—flushed red and leaking with eagerness.

Your eyes, brimming with excitement, dart back and forth between his face and his erection, gauging his reaction as you test the boundaries. Encouraged by his desperate nod, you come closer, your lips ghosting the underside of his shaft, your warm breath teasing his sensitive skin, coaxing it to jerk in response.

“Crap, Y/N…I should be mad at you, but you’re too good at this…” he breathes out, already roused by the sight of your plush lips caressing the heat exuding from his cock, sending a wave of warmth sweeping over him. His legs part further, an unspoken invitation for you to draw nearer.

You giggle before taking the plunge, slowly skidding your lips along the sensitive underside of his dick. A soft, almost inaudible groan escapes his lips, and it’s the go-ahead you need to continue. From top to bottom, you pepper his throbbing length with tender, soothing kisses.

His hand immediately reaches for your hair, his fingers finding solace in the roots to distract himself from finishing too fast. Lowering your head, you tilt it to the side, your tongue marking a stripe against his sensitive balls. Eagerly, you press your face forward, your lips latching onto one of them, suckling on it with a gentle yet persistent rhythm, each release eliciting a small pop.

“Mmff!— fuck..” Evan’s jaw goes slack, a deep groan rolling off his tongue the moment your mouth makes contact, his resistance melting away under the spell of your touch.

Your kisses skim from the base and drift all the way up to the tip of his cock, tongue salty with precum as it deftly strokes the ridges. His body quivers, responding with an urgent jolt of his hips. It’s a wordless plea for you to finally take his cock into the warm and wet comfort of your mouth. 

“Stop torturing me, for the love of...I’m gonna explode,” he groans, grasping on a pillow as if it’s his last lifeline, and you can feel the urgency in his veins popping out. Ignoring his imploring, you press your lips right onto the swollen head, treating it to small kitten licks on his sensitive slit.

“You’re so goddamn gorgeous...” he grunts, teetering on the edge of a whimper. His hips buck forward once more, ramming his tip deeper into your mouth. The evidence of your arousal is just as indisputable as his, your panties most definitely sodden from the act of using your mouth on Evan alone, cunt convulsing from his lewd noises with each stroke. His raw groans, the praises that spill from his mouth, and the way your name dances off his tongue like silk makes the fiery bundle of elation simmer in your belly.

His cock delves deeper into your throat as his hips undulated to the flow of his ragged panting. He can see the glistening of tears stinging your eyes, your whines muffled out around him. His tip bullies the back of your throat with each jerky thrust until it’s sore, pushing so deep that your nose buries itself in the tufts of baby hair on his pelvis.

His lips, now parted and glistening, ooze vulnerability, while his doe eyes shimmer with a feverish glimmer. Everything about him in this moment is mesmerising, leaving you no choice but to be spellbound. The rippling tremors jolting through Evan’s frame indicate he’s nearing his climax, fire pooling low in his abdomen, ready to burst.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he rubs the bridge of his nose in an attempt to quell the tightly coiled spring in his stomach, yearning for release. His balls tighten, cock pulsing as his thrusts into your mouth turn sloppy. “Y/N, I’m gonna cum,” he growls, a strand of your saliva trailing from his tip as he withdraws. 

“Fill my mouth up, baby boy,” you plead, looking up at him with hungry eyes, your mouth open and primed for his treat. 

With a wicked smile, you bite your lip before he softly slaps his dick against your tongue. Then, with one final forceful pump as he holds your head close, ripples of cum colour your mouth white. Trapped in his strong grip, you gulp down his bitter torrent, suppressing the urge to gag as your tongue battles with the arousing assault.

“Fuck, you’re such a naughty slut, aren’t you?” he groans, chuckling, as you’re still on your knees, gingerly wiping away the saliva and residue from the corners of your mouth with his top. With ease, he picks you up and crashes his lips onto yours with unforeseen fervour. 

“Your naughty slut,” you correct, raising your index finger like a twin exclamation mark. As you roughen the kiss, you squirm against his hand as he rubs your clit, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through you.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he whispers, his fingers sliding up and down your soaked slit, eliciting bated moans from you. “You’ve got a wish to fulfil.” 

“Do what you want with me, Mr Peters,” you coo, suckling on his bottom lip. Wrapping your loose hair around his wrist, he pulls your head back to lavish your neck with soft nibbles, his teeth grazing your skin, making you gasp.

With a swift motion, he bends you over the arm of the couch, your breath catching in your throat as he takes his time gracing your ass cheeks with red marks from his playful smacks. “You’re gonna give me everything tonight,” he growls, his voice thick with lust. His hand slips under your dripping pussy, yanking down your panties as his fingers tease your entrance.

You push back against him, craving more, as his free hand grips your hips, holding you in place. “Please, Evan,” you whimper, your voice trembling with need.

He chuckles darkly, his breath hot against your ear. “Begging already? I like it,” he murmurs, his fingers finally plunging into you, making you cry out in pleasure. He pumps them in and out, his thumb circling your clit, driving you to the edge.

“Fuck,” you moan, your body quivering as he continues to work you, his fingers curling inside you, hitting just that perfect spot. 

“Why move so much, baby girl? Want me to punish you?” he snaps, his words almost entirely drowned out by your loud mewling. 

Before you know it, he pulls back slightly. He stands up, reaching for a drawer nearby and pulling out a length of silk rope. “I’m gonna tie you up and make you scream my name until you can’t take it anymore,” he mutters, his voice sending shivers of anticipation through you.

Your breath catches in your throat as he binds your wrists together, the silk smooth against your skin, both restraining and arousing. He secures the rope behind your back as you’re standing on all fours at the centre of the couch, ensuring you’re immobile and completely at his mercy.

He grips your hair and lines his erect cock at your entrance, deliberately rubbing his tip on your slit so that your cum trickles down your thighs. Sucking in a breath, he slaps your butt with a force that makes you squeal in sheer horniness. 

“Evan, fuck me,” you cry out, staring over your shoulder with pleading eyes. 

“We’re not done yet, baby,” he asserts, his voice dripping with promise. His hands roam your body, exploring every inch as if he’s memorising you, his touch both tender and demanding. 

“Damn, you look so beautiful like this,” he huffs out, his voice filled with reverence as he takes in the sight of you bound and vulnerable before him. He trails kisses down your body, his lips worshipping your skin as he moves lower, his hands spreading your thighs apart.

“I wanna taste you,” he growls, his mouth descending on your pussy, his tongue flicking and teasing your clit from an angle you’ve never tried before, driving you wild with need.

“Something’s missing,” he breathes out, and dips his fingers in his cake by the coffee table. He scoops a bit of icing and stretches your weeping cunt, smearing it along your inner thighs and folds. His eyes gleam with mischievous delight as he licks and nibbles his way through the sweet confection and onto your sensitive skin, making you squirm and scream with pleasure. 

You moan loudly, the pleasure overwhelming as he literally devours you, his tongue and lips delving and sucking you to the brink of madness. “Evan, please,” you spill out in desperation, your voice coming out in punchy, shaky sobs.

He chuckles darkly against you, the vibrations sending waves of ecstasy through your body. “Cum for me again, baby girl,” he commands, his voice a sinister growl as he continues his onslaught, his fingers joining his relentless mouth to push you over the edge once more.

You scream his name, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. Your walls clench around his mouth and fingers, your vision going white as you’re consumed by pleasure. Evan doesn’t stop, his mouth and fingers driving you higher and higher, leaving you a quivering, breathless mess.

Before you can even catch your breath, he flips you over so you lie on your side, your legs folded, head resting on the other arm of the couch. His eyes are dark with passion as he places himself on top of your thigh, and you lick the sweet remnants of cake from his mouth in despair, tasting yourself along the way. 

Your breath tickles his ear as he reaches for the cake, scraping up a generous blob of icing with his finger. Bringing it to your lips, he watches intently as you lick it from his finger, your tongue swirling around his digit, eliciting a guttural groan of need from deep within him.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll forget your own name,” he promises, his voice a seductive whisper as he thrusts into you, filling you completely, your lips locked, his eyes fixed on you. 

You arch into him, still bound, mewling in delight as he slams into you, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. “Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, your mind going blank as you lose yourself in the sensation, your world narrowing down to the feel of him inside you, driving you to the edge again and again.

Finally, he releases you from the silk binds, his eyes filled with satisfaction as he pulls you into his arms. “We’re not through yet,” he murmurs, his voice filled with a promise of more.

He gently shifts you into missionary position, his eyes meeting yours with an intense, burning desire. He enters you slowly, savouring every inch, his movements deliberate and controlled as he begins to jam in you, each motion sending tides of ecstasy through your body.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, the connection between you smouldering, each thrust bringing your high closer. “Evan, please, I need you,” you whine, your voice a desperate plea for release.

“Mine,” he growls, his movements becoming more erratic as he nears his own release. “You’re mine, Y/N.”

“Yours,” you agree, your voice a breathless moan as you feel another orgasm building, the intensity almost too much to bear.

With one final powerful thrust, he sends you spiralling into your climax, his own release following along, your bodies entwined as he collapses on top of you, both of you spent and satisfied. He kisses you softly, his lips lingering on yours as you both catch your breath, the intensity of the moment leaving you both breathless and craving more.

“Happy birthday to me,” you murmurs, a contented smirk gracing his lips as you both revel in the afterglow of post-coital bliss, trapped in a tight, loving embrace.

“I should piss you off more often if you’re gonna dick me down like this,” you joke, and your mutual giggles fill the room.

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Taglist: sillysillygyal, junkie4weezer, frankiesweird, divinerulerz, nickrhodeslittledarling

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[thelightsandtheroses]

1: bad idea, right?

Let's Get Lost | Frankie Morales x female reader

Series | Next

You probably shouldn’t think it, but Frankie looks good sober. He looks even better on vacation.

It’s not fair really.

You’re standing in baggage collection,  wishing your ex-boyfriend was the type to wear socks with sandals or stupid t-shirts and loud printed shirts. Crocs, even.

Instead, he’s right here next to you, looking so calm and relaxed with your daughter in his arms, letting her play with the brim of his baseball cap and no, no this is all wrong. You’re meant to be the one dazzling your ex with insouciant style and a glow up, not him.

Sobriety’s changed Frankie though. As he looks over at you now, you’re met with memories of the man you met so many years ago, the man you fell in love with.

Once upon a time you thought you would marry Frankie Morales.

In another world, maybe you did. Maybe in one universe, the two of you are heading to Hawaii for your wedding, not Benny and Lia’s. Maybe in that universe, you were able to work everything out.

You two were in love once after all. You’ve never loved anyone like you loved Frankie and you’re not sure you’ll ever will.

That wasn’t enough though.

You weren’t enough.

It’s hard to compete with the release found in a powder, or in a bottle. It’s just as hard to live with that fact too.

The tannoy sounds loudly around you, breaking you from your reverie. You hate this part of the holiday or travelling - hanging around an airport, the worries about flight tickets and passports. You want to skip immediately to the moment where you’re settled in your hotel room, ideally at the beach with a coconut water in one hand and your new book in the other.

It’s been a long day. Your flight was delayed by several hours due to staffing shortages, it’s the middle of the night and by now you’d planned be fast asleep, not standing in baggage reclaim with your ex-boyfriend, a tired daughter and one particularly drunk idiot five metres away.

You’re tired and hungry and Clara is about ten minutes from reaching her breaking point, however, ever since Frankie’s picked her up, she’s been beaming and like a completely different child to your utter betrayal.

You feel like you’ve run a half marathon but Frankie’s been right there with you and the man is practically glowing. It’s like

Maybe everyone’s right. Maybe you do really need this break.

“That’s the last one of ours,” he says lightly, looking at the battered suitcase in the distance and moving immediately to fetch it from the carousel, even with one arm taken by a tired toddler.

This seemed like such a good idea in theory.

You’re friends now, you’re co-parents, you’re both in the wedding party. It seemed obvious to do this - to give Clara an amazing holiday experience and memories with both of her parents, to ensure Benny and Lia have the wedding they deserve without your drama. It sounded so simple, so mature, at the time.

This is the first time the three of you have spent this much time together since the breakup though. You’ve both had a lot of mature conversations about what’s right for your child, what’s right for Benny and Lia too as it’s their wedding after all.

It’s easy in theory though. A simple diktat of ‘everyone needs to be on their very best behaviour.‘

This is going to be a disaster.

You meet Frankie at a coffee shop. There is a new barista in training and a long, slow-moving queue. You can smell the coffee aroma around, the siren’s song of freshly baked pastries calling to you.

This is your favourite coffee spot on the way to work and it’s usually quieter, usually easier to just slip in and out before heading to the office.

You shift awkwardly on the spot, mentally adding up if you still have enough to get coffee before work, if the barista is likely to be able to make the coffee how you like it, or if perhaps even thinking that makes you ungrateful and rude.

Then you see Frankie behind you. He is wearing a baseball cap, dark jeans, and a t-shirt. It’s not the hat that draws you in though-  it’s his face. There’s this intense kindness in his eyes, in his features and you straight away feel drawn to him.

He’s exactly your type.

He speaks first, making polite small talk and his low, calm voice soothes the lingering anxiety about schedules and instead you just want to know about him.

You’re terrible with dating. The apps feel so impersonal and you’re always nervous about how you’ll make an impression, if you look the way you should, if Dateline is true and you’ll go on a date and never be seen again.

You’re not a romantic, not really, you think. You’d like to find someone though; you’d like to fall in love. You want that, you want it to feel organic.

So, when Frankie walks into your life, maybe it’s kismet.

He’s smart and funny and it’s so easy to talk to him and he asks for your number when you pick up your coffee from the counter, asks if he can call you. It feels right to say yes. You want to know him more, to get to know him, to just spend more time with him.

You’re almost wishing the queue would carry on, that the coffee would take longer just for an extra moment with him.  You even take your time and hover around the cafe to wait for him to pick up his Americano so you can extend the moment.

“What do you do?” you ask casually as you step outside the cafe, taking a sip of your drink.

“Oh,” Frankie shuffles then looks up at you with a smile, “I’m a pilot.” He could have led with that you think to yourself , you know so many people who would be impressed by that job, and by the way he winks at you before heading in the opposite direction, he knows it too.

He texts you an hour later.

It feels like a book or a movie, all of your dreams and hopes finally coming off the page and into your real life.

 You don’t know a lot about Frankie at that point, like the cafe is next to a NA meeting, or that Frankie has his demons. You don’t know that loving Frankie is bith the easiest thing in the world and being loved him feels like it could be everything. You don’t know that won’t be enough though, that plastic baggies and nightmares and a short reccy will systematically unravel every thread of your life with him in just a few years.

You can’t know that then and even if yoy had, it probably wouldn’t have changed anything.

Fate has its ways after all.

The hotel Benny and Lia are getting married in is stunning. You knew it was going to be an extravagant affair from talking to Lia and hearing vague murmurs about the planning over brief coffees and calls. You definitely got the impression from the cost of the hotel rooms when you were booking your stay,  but this? This is like a scene from a movie.

Even in the pitch darkness, the spotlights on the pavement illuminated the building to show its luxurious facades and the reception was gleaming and bright. You can’t remember staying somewhere like this before.

It seems idyllic.

Seems being the operative word right now.

“Okay, but the apartment had two bedrooms,” you say, resting an elbow on the marble counter in exhaustion and frustration. “Two, that’s what I specifically booked. The family apartment. Now there’s a problem?” That had been the deal, you would take the one room with an extra cot for Clara and Frankie would have the other room so you could exist as the perfect co-parenting happy family you were at least trying to be for your kid.

It had been a good plan.

The receptionist’s bright demeanour falters momentarily and she looks at her computer screen instead of meeting your haze “Yes but appears there was a small glitch with the booking online and well - we checked the other family in earlier. We do have a room for you, of course.”

You look over at Frankie desperately. Of course there was a problem, you think, feeling the familiar sensation of tears burning in the back of your eyes.

You told Frankie you had sorted the hotel booking, you told him that it would all be okay and it’s a mess. You’re a mess.

“So, your system has glitched. However, we have either an apartment or a room, right? Good. Please can you confirm that the one you’ve put us in -” Frankie begins, his voice steady.

“It’s technically an upgrade,” she says brightly. “It opens out onto the beach and it’s actually one of my favourites.”

“That’s wonderful. Does it have two bedrooms though?” Frankie asks.

“No.”

Your face falls and you squeeze your eyes shut to fight the impending tears. You are exhausted and you made the right booking for the right room, how can this be happening to you?

“However, we have put a pull-out cot in the room for your daughter, so that should resolve your concerns over the bedrooms and the room really is a lovely one. It’s the grade above what you booked actually and the views are stunning. You even have a terrace as I said that opens on the beach and -“

“We’re not together,” you say bluntly. “That’s why we need separate rooms. We’re not together.” Your voice sounds almost plaintive now, repeating that you and Frankie are most definitely not a couple.

Not anymore.

“Oh. I - uh, I - we’re fully booked with the wedding,” she says in a small voice, tapping keys on her keyboard desperately as it if will magic an extra room into the universe. “I’m so sorry.”

You look at Frankie who shrugs as the two of you try and have a mental conversation.

“We’ll figure it out,” you say. “For tonight. Tomorrow we will need a better resolution.”

“I don’t know what we can do. I’ll - we’ll look into this for you.”

“Thanks. Alright, let’s get this munchkin to bed,” you say, looking at your daughter fast asleep in Frankie’s arms.

“Yeah, we’ll uh, we’ll sort this out tomorrow.”

“Honestly, you need this break,” Frankie says, leaning against a kitchen counter as you shake your head at him and concentrate on unloading the dishwasher.

“I have so much work and - do you think I want this? I don’t want to miss Lia’s wedding or seeing Clara in her dress -” The past few months have been difficult with work and while you’ve been so looking forward to a holiday and Lia’s wedding, it’s starting to feel impossible.

“So don’t,” Frankie says, shaking his head.

“It’s not that simple. My job -”

“Oh, honestly, fuck your job.” Frankie runs his hand over his face, removing his cap and squeezing it awkwardly.

“I have a mortgage and I can’t just - I can’t just leave things.”

“You’re burnt out,” Frankie interjects in a low voice, “Everyone sees it. Lia’s worried about you too, she told Benny.”

“Traitor.”

“I’m worried about you too. You have the PTO already booked off and our daughter is so excited about all of us going together.”

“I know,” you say, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I know.”

Frankie moves over sintantly, placing a hand delicately on your shoulder. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. It’ll be okay.”

“Don’t tell me it’s a job, I know that.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“I feel like I’m letting everyone down.”

“You’re not, you’re definitely not. I can promise you that.”

You look up between bleary tear-filled eyes. “Why are you being so nice to me, Frankie?” He doesn’t need to be nice to you anymore; you’re not together, you’re just co-parents.

“You’re still - still important to me. We’re friends again, right?”

You nod.  You are friends again; it’s taken some time to reach this point but you missed having Frankie in your life. This sober Frankie before you? He’s someone you want to be your friend again too.

“Please don’t try and tell me you’re not going to your best friend’s wedding again. We’re all going. It will be good.”

Despite the late hour of your arrival, you can immediately tell the hotel room is special. It’s too dark to see out towards the terrace but the wide French doors are already inviting you out and you have visions of sitting there in the morning with a cup of coffee.  The furnishings are white and blue, the classic coastal colour scheme, with rich dark wood furniture. What you can see of the bathroom looks great as well.

The problem is the two armchairs instead of a sofa, the tiny rollaway cot for Clara and the giant king size bed in the room.

Normally, the crisp white sheets would be all to inviting, but in this scenario you feel panicked.

How are you going to work this out? You thought the pull-out bed would be large enough for one of you, or that there would at least be a sofa.

The priority has been Clara and getting her ready for bed and asleep as soon as possible.

Now though, the two of you are standing awkwardly.

“You should take the bed,” he says, “I know things have been a lot recently and you should have it anyway, but -”

“Where would you sleep?”

“There’s a bathtub, right?” Frankie says calmly. “I could get the blankets and I could sleep there tonight.”

“You can’t sleep in a bathtub, Frankie!“

“Why not? I’ve slept in worst places when I was a pilot.”

“Exactly what about your back? Same for me, I guess - I’m getting flashbacks of drunken house parties now.”

“Oh really?” Frankie smiles.

“Long time ago,” you say, looking down at your daughter who is now tucked into the cot and is already asleep.

Your eyes feel so heavy with tired and you’re dying to have a shower and then curl up for the night so the holiday can properly start in the morning.

Frankie looks similarly fraught; his brow is furrowed and he’s perched on an arm of the armchair.

“We’re grown-ups, right?” you ask after a moment.

“So they keep telling me,” he replies with mischief in his eyes.

“Okay, then we’ll talk to the hotel in the morning, get this sorted out for good, but it’s one night, Frankie, and I am fucking exhausted.” You look over at Frankie. “It’s a big enough bed and there are enough pillows that we can - yes, yes, that’s the only option, isn’t it?” You nod your head; certain this is the only solution now. You’re tired and you desperately want to sleep and just hope that tomorrow will be better when you wake up.

“And you’re sure about this?”

“Do you have a better idea?  And the bathtub is not an option, Frankie.”

Frankie thinks for a moment and shakes his head.

“Do you still sleep on the same side?” Frankie asks in a low voice, rubbing his hair and exposing a hint of his stomach and automatically moving to the other side of the bed.

You nod and awkwardly put your phone on the bedside table and get into your side of the bed. “You?”

“It’s fine.” You remember that Frankie used to like the same side of the bed too, he’d use that as an excuse whenever you woke up in his arms each morning.

This is going to be so much harder than you thought it would be.

“Was this necessary?” Frankie asks, pointing at the barrier of pillows.

“I didn’t want either of us to feel uncomfortable,” you say simply and your voice feels small.

“It’s fine, it’s all good.”

“I don’t even know why I did it.”

“It’s not a big deal, okay?” Frankie gets into his side of the bed, barely stifling a yawn. Maybe the day is finally catching up with him. In the dim light of the bedside tables, you can see the exhaustion starting to fill his eyes, the tiredness on his face.

“Still can’t believe you were going to sleep in the bathtub anyway!”

”It seemed a good idea at the time. Hey, she’s fast asleep,” Frankie says with a smile, indicating your daughter who is safely tucked into her own bed. “Y’know, I wanted to say thanks for this.”

“You’re the one who persuaded me not to stay and work.” You smile and shake your head as you slip into the covers. “Can’t believe I almost considered that.” Though in fairness, you wouldn’t be dealing with this hotel room drama if you were at home. You wouldn’t be with Clara though. “Besides, Lia’s my friend too and you had a good idea with combining this with something for Clara.  I want her to grow up and know we’re not fighting each other and that we’re on the same side. She’s our priority, right?”

‘’Always.”

“Besides, I’ve never stayed somewhere like this before.”

“Me either.”

“You travelled everywhere in the army.”

“Oh, darling, you have very different ideas about life in the army. I stayed in dorms or safe-houses or outside.” You notice the way his smile falters slightly, his eyes haunted by the ghosts of a short reccy that turned into days of worry and anguish. All Frankie came back with were bad dreams and enough trauma to send him straight to the escape of his vices.

“I’m sorry about the room.”

“It’s not on you. Besides, it’s one night. We’ll sort it out properly tomorrow.”

“Yeah, it’s just one night,” you repeat.

“Huh, heard that one before,” Frankie says sadly and before you can think about what he’s just said, he turns to the other side of the wall.

Usually you listen to a meditation or a sleep story to drift away. You like the harmless, ambient noise and dulcet tones of someone else to lull the stresses of the day away.

You can’t do that with Frankie here though and your second option for sleeplessness … absolutely not.

You switch off the light and exhale slowly. You’ll be fine, you can count sheep or try that breathing technique you read about. It’s just you’re so tired now you don’t even feel like sleeping now.

“You okay?” a low voice asks quietly.

“I hate the first night in a new bed.”

“I remember.”

“It’s fine.”

You turn over so you’re facing Frankie’s side. In the darkness of the room, all you can see is the silhouette of the many pillows separating the two of you and the broad outline of his shoulders.

You remember nights kissing the freckles on his neck, his shoulders, being so incontrovertibly in love with this man you thought you could spend forever in bed with him. You’d have spent forever anywhere with him once. 

You’ve dated since Frankie, you know he has as well, but somehow the finality of the very barrier that you created is pulling at your heartstrings right now. It’s all wrong.

It’s not supposed to be like this.

This is going to be a long week.

Tag List

If you would like to be added to to the taglist please let me know. As a reminder this blog is 18+ - minors do not interact and I block blank/ageless blogs.

LGL tag-list: @morallyinept @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @beboldbebravethings @spishsstuff @bitchesuntitled @redcake444 @missladym1981 @kungfucapslock @dinoflower-reads @kirsteng42 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

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[callsign-mayhem]

too sweet (part 1)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female!Reader Word count: 6.4k CW: Use of Y/N, occasional swears

As Natasha's lifelong best friend, you've always known her crew was off-limits, especially one cocky aviator with a killer smile: Jake "Hangman" Seresin. But when you take a writing retreat to sunny San Diego, a break that was supposed to help you escape distractions, you find yourself sharing late-night conversations, beach bonfires, and undeniable chemistry with the one person you've been strictly forbidden to date.

This is a multi-part fic.

As soon as your plane touched down in San Diego, you were switching flight mode off and texting your best friend. It had been almost six months since the last time you saw her, and your patience had worn thin not long after the second week of her being gone. Now, you were practically bursting with excitement. As a result, you’d become one of those annoying people who got up as soon as the seatbelt sign went off, standing in the aisle with your carry-on even though the steps for the plane hadn’t even been brought onto the runway yet. 

Once you eventually got off the aircraft, you ran as fast as possible with a backpack and a carry-on suitcase, not stopping until you reached passport control. Once past that particular hurdle, it was onto baggage claim. Being a full-time writer afforded you much more flexibility and freedom than most other people, especially your best friend. This was why you usually visited her and not the other way around. Since it had been so long since you last spent time together, your ticket to San Diego was one way. It seemed as though Nat was setting up shop in Fighter Town for a while, and with your latest manuscript almost ready to be sent to your editor, you were taking the opportunity for a much-needed change in pace and scenery. 

The airport was busy, and you were swarmed by people from your flight trying to spot their bags on the carousel. This included the screaming set of twins and their dishevelled parents seated two rows behind you. 

They were still screaming, and you were briefly reminded why you didn’t want to have any children yet. Not that there was any chance of that happening, anyway. You’d been single for so long that it was a basically a personality trait at this point. 

When you spotted your suitcase, you ran to meet it and hauled it off the conveyor belt less than gracefully. The arrivals lounge was an assault on your already overloaded senses, and dragging two suitcases wasn’t making it any easier. But when you got closer to the exit, you saw Nat’s black Suburban parked right out front, and all the stress dissipated. 

When you barelled out of the doors and onto the sidewalk, she jumped out of the car with a huge, uncontainable grin. Her hair was freshly cut and styled, and her skin glowed beneath the Californian sun. 

North Island looked good on her. 

Bags be damned, you ran into her arms, almost knocking her over. She still smelled of citrus and vanilla, which was to say that she still smelled like her family home where you’d spent most of your childhood. You’d had a couple of boyfriends in and just after college, but their hugs had never lived up to Natasha’s. There was nothing more comforting to you in the entire world.

‘Lieutenant Trace in the flesh!’ You squeaked. 

‘Y/N Y/L/N, bestselling author. It truly is an honour.’

Reluctantly, you let go so you could take her in. ‘Those FaceTime calls just weren’t cutting it anymore.’ You told her, smiling. ‘You look good, Nat. Better than good.’

‘I think this place agrees with me.’ She replied. ‘You look like you need a holiday.’

‘Wow, thanks.’

She laughed. ‘You know what I mean.’

‘I know.’

She glanced at your luggage with a raised brow. ‘Let’s get what appears to be everything you own in the trunk, and then we’ll get on the road. ‘Kay?’

‘I know it looks like a lot, but you know I like to be prepared.’

You took the smaller case, and she took the bigger one. ‘For what? Moving states?’

‘My ticket is open-ended.’ You explained. ‘Once I get my manuscript in next week, I’ll be free as a bird until my editor is ready to shatter all my hopes and dreams.’

Natasha eyed you somewhat disbelievingly. ‘You’re saying you might be staying a while?’

‘If that’s okay with you, yeah.’

‘Let’s see how long it takes me to get sick of you.’ She jibed.

‘How do you know I won’t get sick of you first?’

‘Because I’m a delight.’

On the way to Nat’s apartment complex, she pointed out landmarks and told you about the latest happenings. You were mostly caught up since you spent every other evening on FaceTime, but it was always different when you caught up in person. The two of you always remembered other details you’d forgotten about. 

The drive from the airport to Nat’s apartment on Island Avenue took just over fifteen minutes, and before you knew it, you were being shown to the guest room. She’d moved in a little over a month ago, after being told she was being stationed in Fighter Town indefinitely along with some of her crew from a super secret mission she’d been involved in. Nat told you more details about her work than she probably should because even if you had someone to tell, you wouldn’t. Your friendship wasn’t like most other female friendships, where you think your secret is safe until it’s not. The two of you trusted one another wholeheartedly because there genuinely wasn’t any reason not to. 

The guest room was as tidy and organised as the rest of the apartment. With Autumn just around the corner, she’d adorned the double bed with pumpkin throw pillows and a dark red teddy blanket you immediately wanted to crawl under. You were thoroughly exhausted, but you knew neither of you would be going to sleep anytime soon.

‘I put my desk in here,’ she told you. ‘Since I knew it would be your room. That way, you can write while I’m on base.’

Even after all these years, things like this still warmed you. ‘Thanks, Natty.’ You said, reverting to your childhood nickname for her. ‘I appreciate it.’

‘You hungry?’

‘Practically wasting away over here.’

‘I thought you might say that. Wanna go out or order in? I can take you to this amazing restaurant I went to with some of my team a few weeks ago. It’s right by the beach.’

‘Sold.’

An hour later, you were sitting in the outside area of a trendy new steakhouse. You were so hungry after your flight that you doubted you’d have noticed if the food had been awful. Nat enjoyed her brisket immensely, so it couldn’t have been bad. 

‘So,’ you said, around a mouthful of food. ‘Tell me more about this new squad. Better than the Black Aces?’

‘They’re so different, they aren’t comparable. But they’re pretty awesome.’

‘Any of them particularly awesome?’ You asked, waggling your eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes playfully. ‘No, no, and no. Even if there were, I wouldn’t do anything about it. I don’t date navy guys.’

‘I still don’t understand that.’

‘I don’t like to shit where I eat,’ she said simply. ‘Or rather, I don’t like to let men shit where I eat since usually they’re the ones doing the shitting.’

You nodded in understanding. ‘Am I gonna get to meet any of the famous Daggers?’ 

‘Yup. Tonight.’

Your stomach dropped. While you were definitely up for meeting them, you were a little nervous, especially since it was happening so soon.

‘Tonight?’ You echoed.

‘Friday nights, we always go to The Hard Deck after work. I’ll come back to the apartment first, change and then we can head over together.’ 

You hoped you were doing a good job of hiding your nerves. Nat would never let you live them down. 

‘So not only am I meeting the famous Dagger Squad, but I’m also gonna experience the highly acclaimed Hard Deck on the same night.’

‘Don’t bother wearing socks, ‘cause they’re gonna be knocked right off.’ Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

‘The novelty might have worn off for you, but this is big for me. I listen to you talk about these people and that bar day in and day out without understanding. I’m finally getting to put faces to names my best friend doesn’t shut up about. It would be like you stepping into one of my books and meeting all the characters.’

‘Okay, when you put it that way, I understand why you’re excited. But you gotta promise me one thing.’

She was suddenly all serious. ‘Anything.’ You replied earnestly.

‘Do not let Hangman charm you. I’ve already told him you’re off limits, and I’m saying the same to you. He’s bad news.’

You knew all about Hangman from Nat’s stories. There were only a few where he was one of the good guys. As a writer, you were all too familiar with the good girl falls in love with the bad guy trope, and as tantalising as it was to read about, you knew better than to fall for it in real life.

At least, you’d like to think so.

‘You don’t have to worry about that. He sounds like an asshole.’

‘You say this now, but he’s a charmer, and you’re vulnerable.’

You threw a chip at her. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘I mean no offence when I say this, but it’s been a while since you dated anyone, Y/N. I’m not saying you’re naive, but I know he’ll lay it on real thick just to mess with me, and I don’t want you to fall into his trap and get hurt.’

‘You think he’d pretend to hit on me just to get under your skin? This guy sounds even worse than I thought.’

‘You can never be too sure what his intentions are. Safer to assume that he has an ulterior motive.’

‘Well, thanks, Nat. Now I’m really nervous.’

‘You’ll be fine. I’ll be there to yank on his leash if he starts barking too loudly. And Rooster is always looking for an excuse to take him down a peg.’

In true best friend style, Natasha had emptied your suitcase in search of the perfect outfit for you to wear to The Hard Deck. Thankfully, she’d settled on one of your favourites: a black velvet romper with bell sleeves covered in little silver moons and stars. You didn’t have to debate whether to wear your hair up or down because Nat had already decided for you and was almost done curling it. You applied a thin layer of lip gloss in front of her vanity mirror while she worked her magic. You’d gone easy on the makeup since you often felt self-conscious when wearing a lot. 

‘Okay, done.’ She announced, running her fingers through the curls. 

She’d done a great job, better than when you did it yourself.

‘Thanks, Nat.’

‘You’re welcome. You look drop-dead gorgeous.’

In her skinny jeans, white tank and leather jacket, you thought Nat looked like a sexy biker chick, and you told her so. 

‘Anyone would think you’re in love with me.’

‘So what if I am?’

You decided to get an Uber since neither of you wanted to stay sober to drive the other home. You spent the whole journey fretting that the Daggers wouldn’t like you. Maybe they’d think you were boring because you weren’t in the Navy. Perhaps they’d think being a writer wasn’t a real job (it wouldn’t be the first time someone had told you that). Or worse, maybe they’d think you weren’t good enough to be friends with the highly decorated fighter pilot who was your best friend. 

By the time the Uber driver pulled up in front of The Hard Deck, your stomach was tied in knots, and you were gasping for a shot of something strong to give you a confidence boost. Despite your overwhelming sense of anxiety, you were able to appreciate how incredible The Hard Deck was. Adorned with lights and overflowing with all different kinds of people, it was the kind of place that felt almost dreamlike. Music spilled out through the open doors and windows, and the surrounding area thrummed with a near-tangible electric current. 

Natasha looped her arm through yours as you headed into the bar, and you were grateful for the physical and moral support. Inside, it was a hubbub of activity. The wraparound bar—which had at least five people behind it—was surrounded by people. The crowd was at least three people deep; as soon as a bartender finished serving someone, there was another to take their place. You’d done a brief stint as a bartender just after college, and while you’d never worked somewhere quite this busy, you had a pretty good idea of how they were feeling. 

A Bon Jovi song blared from a jukebox you couldn't locate. A large pool table and a mounted dart board stood in the far corner of the bustling bar. This appeared to be where Nat was leading you. A group of aviators—some still in uniform from the day, some not—stood around the pool table. 

Your heart was in the base of your throat. It was beating erratically. 

‘Ready?’ Nat asked, flashing you an encouraging grin.

‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’

When you reached them, those who had been immersed in their game stopped, and the others let their conversations die out. All eyes were on you, and you briefly wondered if something was on your face. 

‘Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is my squad.’ Each one beamed at you as they swarmed around you to shake your hand or hug you. ‘For better or worse.’ Nat said.

The tall, handsome one with the moustache and the Hawaiian shirt you knew to be Rooster playfully poked Nat in the ribs. ‘Hey, you know it’s for better.’

‘Depends on the day.’ She shrugged.

‘Y/N,’ Rooster smirked. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’

He had to reach down to wrap his arms around your shoulders. He smelled of sandalwood and sun lotion, and you’d already forgotten Nat’s reasons for not wanting to sleep with her squad members. 

‘All good things, I hope.’

Before Rooster could respond, a strapping blonde guy with a movie-star smile cut in. ‘Better than good,’ he said with a southern drawl. ‘I feel like I’m meeting a celebrity.’

The squad collectively rolled their eyes. ‘This is Hangman.’ Nat sighed. 

He held out his hand, and you took it. ‘Jake Seresin.’

‘Pleasure.’ You replied. 

When you finally worked up the courage to look into his eyes, you saw chaos swimming in the blue depths. He smiled at you as if he knew what colour underwear you had on, as well as all your darkest secrets. He was disarming, and you’d always made a point to steer clear of men like that.

‘Oh, the pleasure’s all mine, darlin’.’

‘Alright, Bagman, that’s enough.’ This voice belonged to one of the shorter guys with a buzzed head and a much nicer vibe. ‘You’re gonna scare her off.’ Instead of hugging you or shaking your hand, he kissed your cheek, and you felt a surprised blush creep across your cheeks. ‘I’m Mickey, callsign Fanboy. Welcome to North Island.’

‘Thanks, Mickey. It’s nice to meet you.’

‘This here is Payback, but you can call him Reuben. I’m his backseater.’

‘Hi,’ you grinned, starting to find your feet and your confidence. ‘I hear you’re quite the pilot.’ 

Reuben glanced at Nat, apparently pleasantly surprised. ‘Damn, you say nice things about us behind our backs?’

‘Not all of you.’ Nat shot a pointed look at Jake. ‘But yeah. Don’t sound so surprised.’ 

Coyote—AKA Javy—was less intimidating than Jake, but you could tell they were privy to something you weren’t. Your mind flicked back to the conversation you’d had with Nat earlier, and you were starting to understand what she meant. Maybe they had some kind of awful bet on who could bed you first. Either way, you planned to be cordial but not engage with them any more than you had to. 

Last but not least, you were introduced to Bob, Nat’s backseater and perhaps the team member she spoke most highly of. You’d been desperate to meet him for months, partly because Nat had told you he had a really funny side to him once he came out of his shell and partly because you wanted to thank him for keeping your best friend alive.

‘Y/N, this is Bob Floyd. My WSO.’

In one hand, he held a half-empty cup of peanuts. The other, he held out to you.

‘Bob, it’s an honour to meet you. Thank you for looking after Natty. I didn’t need to meet you to know that there’s nobody else I’d rather be in the sky with my best friend.’

Bob blinked at you behind his wireframes, dumbfounded by your kind words.

‘Uh, thanks, Y/N. I’m just a Weapons Systems Officer. Phoenix is the hero, not me.’

‘Don’t put yourself down. Your job is just as important, if not more so. I know she won’t mind me saying that.’

‘I agree,’ Nat said. ‘I’ve told you before, Bobby; you gotta give yourself more credit.’

Bob flushed. His eyes remained fixed on his peanuts. ‘Well, thank you. It sure means a lot.’ 

With the initial introductions out of the way, you could relax. Payback and Fanboy headed to the bar to get a round of drinks in while you made yourself comfortable at one of the tall tables. Rooster and Bob joined you and Nat while Coyote and Hangman resumed their game of pool. They’d been playing doubles with Payback and Fanboy, and it was their turn. 

You found yourself staring at Hangman as he leaned over the table and expertly sank three balls—one after the other—into the pockets. Not that you’d ever admit it out loud, but he was gorgeous. Walking, talking Texan Ken dolls weren’t usually your type, but it was impossible to deny Jake’s appeal. Maybe it was because Nat had explicitly told you not to look that you found your eyes wandering back to him, even as Rooster launched into a story about a recent mission. Didn’t something always feel more endearing when you weren’t allowed to do it?

When Payback and Fanboy reappeared, each with a tray of drinks in hand, you could finally refocus your attention. 

‘Tequila shots!’ Fanboy gestured with bravado.

‘And some beers to chase them with.’ Payback finished.

You giggled, reaching for your shot. There was enough for everyone to have two, and you made a mental note to get them both back. Hangman and Coyote sauntered over at the mention of hard liquor. It was difficult to ignore Jake when he came to your side of the table and reached over you for his shot. Was he making a point, or were you hyperaware of him after your warning from Nat?

‘What’re we toasting?’ You asked.

Rooster’s eyes twinkled as he raised his near-overflowing shot glass in your direction. ‘To old friends and new.’

The whole squad echoed his toast and downed their shots. Bob coughed and sputtered, and Fanboy smacked him on the back encouragingly, only making him cough more. Your stomach ached from laughing, and you weren’t even drunk yet. 

One shot of tequila, and you were already wondering if there were any apartments for rent close to North Island. 

As the night progressed and you got tipsier, you found yourself playing some kind of game with Hangman. The rest of the squad seemed totally unaware of it, for which you were incredibly grateful. If Nat or Rooster caught so much as a whiff of attraction between the two of you, you were sure they’d haul your ass home and sit you on the naughty step. You’d only known Bradley for a few hours, but you’d hit it off immediately. You understood why he and Nat were so close. He’d already adopted some kind of brotherly responsibility for you, and apparently—before your arrival—he and Nat had made a pact to protect you from Hangman at all costs. Super dramatic, but you were sure it was warranted. 

Of course, this approach had the opposite effect. You found yourself drawn to him for reasons known only to the almighty. Nat and Bradley had said (not in so many words, but still) ‘fuck around and find out.’

And here you were, fucking around and finding out. 

He was standing at the dart board nursing a whiskey on the rocks. Payback was taking his shot while Fanboy egged him on from the sidelines. It seemed that the two pairs had a mission to thrash each other at various bar games, and you sincerely hoped that Payback and Fanboy won at least one round of something by the end of the night just to see the smug grin wiped off Jake’s pretty face. 

As for the game the two of you were playing… Well, you’d started that. He’d caught you staring at him after the second round of shots, and the look he’d given you in response had been incendiary. More for something to do with your hands and mouth, you’d taken a sip of your cocktail (courtesy of Bobby Floyd) and looked away again. You’d looked up again a little while later and caught him staring. You’d raised your eyebrows, and in response, he took a long drink of his whiskey before mouthing ‘bet.’ Thus, your little drinking game was born, and you hadn’t even had to speak to each other.

Whenever one caught the other staring, the guilty one had to take a drink. 

You were more than tipsy now, so you silently promised not to look at him for a while lest you end up on the floor before 10 pm. 

‘So, Phoenix tells us you’re about to finish another book.’ Bradley said, bringing you back to Earth.

‘Yeah, I’ve just gotta mess around with the ending, and then it’ll be good to go. That is until my editor tears it to shreds.’

‘Did you always want to be a writer?’ Bob asked.

He’d come out of his shell significantly since you walked into The Hard Deck earlier that evening. The two shots had helped since he wasn’t a big drinker. They’d gone right to his head, and his cheeks were stained pink. Bob was sweet and kindhearted and had a knack for making you feel seen and heard in the conversation. You’d never met a man who was so attentive before, and you got the feeling that Nat and Bradley had an agenda, what with the knowing glances they shared whenever you went off on tangents about music and different novels you’d both read. 

Bob was perfect. Bob wouldn’t break your heart. Out of all the guys in The Hard Deck, he was the one who made the most sense to you. 

But Bob didn’t have you shifting in your stool whenever he looked at you as warmth pooled in the bottom of your tummy. 

‘For as long as I can remember, yeah.’ You responded. ‘Most people thought I was insane for choosing a liberal arts major in college. They’re notorious for leading you absolutely nowhere, but I was persistent, and now here I am.’ 

‘Not many people are successful enough to live off their writing, even if they get published.’ Nat added proudly. ‘She’s a one-percenter in the writer world.’

‘You know, I’ve actually read one of your books.’ Bob said, smiling down at his Corona Light, suddenly shy. 

This was the kind of moment you always dreamed about as a kid: meeting someone and finding out they already knew your name because they had a copy of one of your books at home. 

‘Seriously?’ You leaned forward. ‘Which one?’ 

‘Fourth of July.’ 

You were taken aback. Fourth of July wasn’t the book you were best known for, but it had been your favourite to write. It was literary fiction, and few people had the stomach for it. After publishing it, your agent practically forced you to write something on the opposite end of the spectrum, more for sales than anything else. 

‘What did you think?’ 

‘I thought it was extremely provocative. You know the kinds of books you think about for months when you’re finished?’

Your smile was so big, your face ached with it. ‘Yeah, I know the ones you mean. You really think that?’

‘I do.’ 

‘I don’t even know how to respond to that. I’m so happy.’ You gushed. ‘So I’m just gonna buy you another drink.’

Bob chuckled. Nat and Bradley shared another knowing look. ‘You don’t need to do that.’

‘I want to. Besides, it’s my turn to get a round in.’

You floated up to the bar on cloud nine and made the order in such a daze that you didn’t notice Hangman slide up next to you. 

‘I’ll be paying for this round, Penny.’ He drawled. 

Your head snapped up. He still had that shit-eating grin on his face, and you couldn’t decide whether you wanted to slap it or kiss it off. 

‘I can pay. It’s my turn.’ You insisted.

Jake waved you off. ‘You’re the honoured guest.’

‘And it’s my turn.’ You repeated sternly. ‘Plus, I’m buying Bob an extra drink as a thank you.’

Jake recoiled slightly, a bemused grin on his face. ‘For what?’

‘He gave me some great feedback on one of my books. The one I’m the least proud of. Nothing in the world beats that feeling, so I want to thank him.’

‘Trust Bobby to have read your work before knowing who you are. I bet he’s mighty pleased with himself.’ Jake ruminated. ‘He’s not the one trailing behind for once.’

You frowned deeply. ‘That’s not very nice. Bob seems like a great guy. He probably doesn’t seem like it to you because his ego isn’t the size of North Island.’

Jake laughed. ‘And you think mine is?’ 

Penny was smirking to herself as she poured all the drinks, and you had a feeling she’d probably back you up. 

‘I think it’s probably quite close. You and Bob don’t speak the same language, so you think he’s beneath you.’

‘Come on, I don’t think he’s beneath me. You’re making me sound like a dick.’

No, actually, I think you manage that quite well on your own.’ You quipped.

Jake staggered back, clutching his chest, feigning hurt. You laughed despite yourself. His energy was contagious like that.

‘So, are you gonna let me pay for my round?’

‘How about I pay for the round, you just pay for Lieutenant Bookworm. You know, to save your conscience.’ 

‘Fine,’ you said, rolling your eyes. ‘But I’m gonna get the next one. I’ll just wait until you aren’t paying attention.’ 

Jake glanced at your lips so quickly that you would’ve missed it if you’d blinked. 

‘Good luck with that, sweetheart.’ 

You opened your mouth to respond, but no sound came out. He’d disarmed you yet again, and you disliked feeling so helpless. It was almost as if you were at his mercy, and he knew it. Jake Seresin didn’t need any more power than he already had. 

He paid Penny and took the tray of drinks over to the table. You hadn’t ordered any shots because you wanted to remember some of this night, and it was probably a good idea because you could no longer walk in a straight line. Jake went right back to the dart board, and you took your seat at the table.

‘What was that about?’ Nat asked, voice laced with concern.

‘He paid for the round, even though I asked him not to.’ You took Bob’s beers off the tray and set them before him. ‘I got these, though.’

‘Thanks, Y/N.’

Bradley’s eyes were boring holes into Jake’s back. ‘It’s rare for him to do something nice without an ulterior motive.’

‘Well, that’s easy. His ulterior motive is getting in Y/N’s pants.’ Nat growled.

‘Okay,’ you said with a sigh. ‘Let’s change the subject. I’m sick of talking about him already.’

Although Bob didn’t speak as much as everyone else, you felt he noticed more than they did. You could tell he saw right through you. You just hoped he wouldn’t say anything to your best friend. 

You felt truly alive, as if the electrical current surrounding The Hard Deck had been injected directly into your veins. Your first meeting with The Dagger Squad had gone incredibly well, and they’d exceeded your expectations tenfold. It had only been one day, and you already felt like you’d made some friends for life. You were beginning to understand why Nat looked so healthy, why she seemed to be glowing from the inside out, the amazing people, the energy of North Island, the beautiful weather. These things separately were better than any multivitamin, but together? You felt as though you’d drunk some kind of magical elixir that would permit you to live forever. 

You wouldn’t mind living forever if you got to stay here permanently. 

Was it too soon to be thinking this? Did you care? 

Penny had called last orders, but nobody was ready for the night to end. Your exhaustion had worn off long ago, and thankfully, you were experiencing a rather mighty second wind. Somebody had suggested going back to Nat’s for some more drinks. Reuben’s place was the biggest—a three-bed detached house right on the outskirts of North Island—but nobody wanted to Uber that far, so you settled for Nat’s. Her apartment was the second biggest, spanning two stories. You knew she’d received a considerable inheritance a few years ago, and paired with her Navy money, she was well-off. It helped that her finance-managing skills were impeccable. She’d been the one to help you invest and save money from your first book deal when you’d wanted to blow it all on an expensive trip to New Zealand. 

It took two Ubers to get you all to Island Avenue. You carpooled with Nat, Bob, Bradley and Reuben. Mickey pulled the short straw and had to jump in with Jake and Javy. To be fair, they weren’t bad guys; you just knew their type and weren’t accustomed to it. 

Back at Nat’s, everyone was assigned a job. You and Nat set about turning all the fairy lights on, putting more chairs out on the generously sized balcony and finding throw blankets for those who got chilly. Bradley was connecting his phone to the Bluetooth speaker and queuing songs since he insisted he had the authority in that particular department. Bob was hovering, suggesting more songs for him to queue, arguing that he had just as much authority as Bradley did since they had similar taste in music. Reuben and Mickey went through Nat’s drinking/board game selection, picking out a few to keep everyone occupied. Dangerously, Javy and Jake had declared themselves bartenders. On the way back, they’d stopped at an off-license and grabbed a wide selection of booze to add to what Nat already had stocked in her kitchen. They’d set themselves up on the kitchen island and were attempting to make homemade cocktails. 

You and Nat found a moment of solitude in her room when she was searching for some sweats to give Mickey, who was still in his uniform. 

‘So it’s going pretty well, huh?’ She smiled. ‘You like the squad?’ 

‘Hell yeah, I do, they’re a riot.’

She opened her wardrobe door, smirking knowingly. ‘Who’s your favourite?’

‘Don’t have one.’ You said, a little too quickly.

‘I know you’re lying. Just tell me.’

While she rooted around in her wardrobe, you gave it some thought. You didn’t have a favourite because you liked them for different reasons. Bob was genuine and intelligent, and he understood your writing almost as well as you did. Bradley was vibrant and interesting, and he made you feel safe, as if you could be yourself unapologetically. Same with Mickey and Reuben. You liked the fact that Javy was sure of himself without coming across too cocky (mostly).

And as for Jake. Well, you didn’t have the words to describe how you felt about him. 

Nat poked her head out of the walk-wardrobe. ‘Well?’

‘I like them all, Nat. But if I had to choose, it’d be Bob.’

She smiled. ‘I knew it.’ 

‘Knew what?’

‘You have a thing for Floyd. And he has a thing for you.’

‘Jesus Christ, Natty. No. Not like that.’

She’d finally found sweatpants and a T-shirt that she didn’t mind lending to Mickey. When she came out of the wardrobe, she wore a cunning expression.

‘You wouldn’t date him? I think he’s perfect for you.’

How were you supposed to tell her that the reason you wouldn’t date him was because Jake caused a swarm of butterflies in your stomach? How were you supposed to tell her you were crushing on the only guy from her whole crew she’d warned you off? 

There was only one answer to that: you couldn’t. 

‘I didn’t come here to date. Why would I start something here that I can’t finish? I’ll be back in New England before the leaves change.’

‘Everything is always so poetic with you. But you’re right,’ she relented. ‘Bobby is someone you have a quick fling with, anyway. He’s too nice, and I don’t think that’s his thing.’

You gestured as if to say, ‘there you go.’ 

‘Shall we get back out there and see what havoc those two dickheads are wreaking in my kitchen?’

‘Let’s do it.’

It turned out that they were wreaking a lot of havoc. There were open spirit bottles everywhere, and the kitchen island was lined with shots. Not only that, but a selection of cocktails surrounded the bottles. You didn’t know what any of them contained, and honestly, you were scared to ask. 

‘Ladies,’ Javy said. ‘What’ll it be?’

‘Something that’s not gonna put me on my ass after two sips?’ You offered.

He looked at the selection of drinks with a pained expression, and you laughed. 

‘I’m guessing that’s not on the menu?’

‘Er, no…’

‘Okay, give me something sweet.’

Jake stepped around the island and came right up to you. He was so cocksure that it should have been cringe, but it was just incredibly sexy.

‘Here you go, darlin’.’

Natasha and Javy laughed, but you couldn’t stop looking at him. He was drunk, but there wasn’t a hair out of place. If you hadn’t watched him throw drinks back all night, you would think he was sober. 

‘Nice. Does that work on all the girls?’

‘I haven’t tried this one before.’ He winked.

‘I’ll take whatever concoction that has the most vodka in it. No whiskey.’ 

Your swift change of subject didn’t phase him in the slightest. ‘Anything you want.’ 

When he handed you a drink and your hands brushed, you had to glance around to see if Nat noticed. Because if she had, she’d have seen you linger for a moment before you turned around and walked away. 

After a few particularly vicious rounds of Cards Against Humanity that had you all creasing on the floor, you took yourself off to the bathroom. Bob and Javy were talking about heading home. Bradley and Mickey had called dibs on Nat’s huge, L-shaped sofa for the night, and Reuben was trying to convince Nat to let him top-and-tail in her bed. While they were arguing, you headed inside and up the spiral staircase to use your bathroom without worrying about a drunken aviator trying to get in.

Or at least, that had been your plan. 

You reached out to grab the door handle, and someone’s hand closed over your own.

‘Jake?’

You turned around, your back against the closed door, and he moved in front of you, his chest flush against yours. 

‘What’re you doing?’ You breathed.

‘You’ve been givin’ me those come-to-bed eyes all night. I assumed that’s where you were headed.’

He leaned in closer, but not so close that you thought he was going to kiss you. 

‘I thought you were suspiciously quiet when everyone was talking about sleeping arrangements.’

‘Mhm, so you were thinkin’ the same thing?’

You shook your head, but your smile was a dead giveaway. ‘Even if I wanted you to, you couldn’t spend the night here. Nat would crucify both of us.’

He leaned even closer. You could smell the liquor on his lips now. ‘Who says she has to find out?’

‘I can’t do that to her. It’s disrespectful.’

He regarded you thoughtfully. ‘Come on, Y/N. Take that halo off for one night.’ 

Bravely, you nudged his nose with yours. When he tried to kiss you, you pulled back. His expression was a mix between hurt and challenged. 

‘I’ve been warned to stay away from you, in case I get hurt.’

‘Well, that’s funny,’ he responded, closing the space between you. ‘Because I’ve been warned to stay away from you so I don’t wake up and find my balls missing.’

You laughed. ‘Nat threatened to castrate you?’

‘That she did.’

‘I suggest you go home and sleep in your own bed then.’

His lips were basically touching yours now. ‘You don’t really want that.’

You reached up and put a hand on the back of his neck. The first kiss you shared with Jake Seresin was exactly how you imagined it would be. There was no softness, no easing you into it. One minute, you were talking, the next, you were tasting the whiskey sour he’d just finished. He had both hands on either side of your face and was kissing you more intensely than you’d ever been kissed in your entire life. It was raw passion and desire—you could feel how needy he was. 

When he pushed against you, you felt his hard-on through his Levis, and a small whimper escaped your lips. You found yourself grinding against him, hoping for any kind of friction to ease the tightness in your stomach. 

When he pulled away, you followed his mouth and kissed him again, but he stopped you soon after.

‘What was that about me going home and sleeping in my own bed?’

You groaned. ‘Don’t make this hard for me.’

‘You’re the one making things hard, sweetheart.’ He smirked. 

‘I’m gonna go down first, and you’re gonna follow me a couple minutes later. That way, nobody will be suspicious.’

He shook his head in disbelief, but he was grinning like a fool. ‘You’re seriously not gonna let me stay?’ 

‘I told you, it’s disrespectful.’

‘So what, then? That’s all I get?’

You flashed him a devilish grin of your own. ‘For now.’ 

A/N: This is the first part of this series. There shouldn't be more than two or three parts. For some reason, I struggle to write one-shots; it always turns into a series...

[collector-of-sticks]

Ramble about if I were an alien and had a lil one. Just cause I can and am obsessed with the idea of being an alien 💫

✨I wish I were an alien on a big ship just floating through space, passing through colourful gas clouds and watching the stars. I’d love to have multiple arms and a tail I could flick around and hold things with. With multiple arms I could hold a little one while doing other things like watering the many plants inside the ship! I would probably hate other people touching my tail but would happily let a little one hold it! Ideally they’d hold one of my many hands though :3✨

🌒I’d have a nursery for them attached to my room so I could check on them during the “night.” It would have a star themed mobile above the cot and a lot of books on the bookshelf about space, other alien species and planets - but they’d all be kiddie books so my baby could easily understand.🌒

💤I’d hold their hand while we explore different planets with the rest of the crew. I’d probably be the live-in gardener - gotta keep all the plants on the ship alive for everyone’s mental health and so we can use them as food/medicine. Oh! I’d definitely grow a little bioluminescence (glows in the dark) plant in my baby’s nursery so it could be a nightlight for them! Gotta keep the bad dreams away somehow 💤

🔭We could collect stickers and every planet we go to we can put a sticker from that planet into a book/passport! And of course, we’d have to take tons and tons of photos of all these planets, cultures and other beautiful things we see.🔭

🫧With my multiple hands I’d learn how to do really calming/hypnotic movements to help my lil one fall asleep and just to generally entertain them! I’d even wear glow in the dark nail polish for it!🫧

Brrrrrrrrrrrr, aliens!

What would you do if you were a space travelling alien? What would you look like? What would be your favourite thing to do (explore new plants, learn about new animals, watch the stars, play in different streams, go floating in zero gravity etc)?