#the way she runs her hand through her hair

[sparklingblu]

Infinite Impossibilities: A Pervert's Dream Journal

Day 1: Karina

You sit in the lecture hall, struggling to focus on professor Karina’s lecture. It’s not that the material is boring - you’re quite interested in the works of John Keats. But fuck, it’s nearly impossible to pay attention with a goddess like her standing at the podium.

Karina is weaning a tight-fitted blazer that hugs her curves in all the right places. The fabric stretches taut over her ample breasts, the buttons straining to contain them. Your eyes keep drifting to her deep cleavage, wondering if she’s wearing a bra and what kind. Lacy and sheer, maybe? Or something more functional and practical? Maybe she’s not wearing anything at all.

She turns to write on the whiteboard, and your gaze zeroes in on her ass. The skirt she’s wearing is just long enough to be appropriate, but it rides up enough to give you a tantalizing glimpse of her smooth, toned thighs. You imagine hiking it up even further, exposing her plump ass cheeks and giving them a firm spank.

But you shake those thoughts away quickly, feeling your cock twitch in your pants. Christ, get it together. Karina continues speaking passionately about Keat’s metaphors and symbolism, her full, glossy lips moving hypnotically as she forms each word. You picture them wrapped around your thick shaft, sucking you off with the same enthusiasm and dedication to her craft. Your erection grows, straining against the confines of your jeans.

She runs a hand through her long, silky black hair as she considers a student’s question, and you fantasize about gripping that hair, holding her head in place as you fuck her mouth. Those dark, soulful eyes of hers would look up at you pleadingly as you use her throat for your pleasure, forcing her to gag and choke on your huge cock.

Jesus, you’re in trouble. How are you going to make it through this class without jumping her right here in front of everyone? The things you’d do to her if given the chance….you bet she’d be a quick learner. Eager to please. Such a good girl, desperate for a nice, hard cock.

You imagine bending her over the podium and hiking up that prim little skirt. Ripping her panties off and rubbing your hard cock between her ass cheeks. Spanking her when she begs too loudly for it. Teasing her pussy with the tip until she’s dripping wet and aching to be filled.

Maybe you’d let her suck you off first, giving a taste of what's to come. Making her swallow every last drop before shoving your cock in her soaking cunt and pounding her until she screams. Until she forgets all about fucking Keats and only remembers the way your cock feel splitting her open.

You take a deep breath, trying to will your erection away. The thoughts of Karina naked and writhing beneath you are not helping. Fuck, you need to get a grip. Think about something else. Anything else. Like Keats’ fucking Odes. Right. Odes.

You barely register the end of the lecture, just barely picking up your stuff in time before she dismisses the class. You follow the herd of students filing out, forcing yourself not to look back at Karina. She probably doesn’t even know you exist. Why would she? You’re just another horny student. Not worth her notice.

As you reach the door, you hear your name called out in a melodic voice. Your heart stops for a moment as you turn around. She’s looking right at you, her dark eyes intense and focused.

“Mr. Raphael, could you stay after class? I’d like to have a word with you”

Fuck. You swallow hard, nodding mutely as you watch her bend over the podium, rummaging through her notes. Oh god, you’re in deep now. She’s going to realize what a pervert you are. What you’ve been thinking about doing to her hot little body.

You approach Karina’s desk, hands trembling slightly as you try to think of an excuse. You didn’t do anything wrong….right? Maybe she just wants to discuss your grade or assignment feedback.

After a while, Karina takes her seat and looks up at you with a warm smile, her dark eyes twinkling. “ Mr. Raphael, thanks for staying. I wanted to speak with you about your latest assignment on Keats’ odes.”

You nod, feeling a bit awkward. “Oh, uh, yeah. What do you think?”

She leans back in her chair, the fabric of her tight blazer stretching obscenely across her huge tits.. “I think it’s excellent work. You clearly have a deep understanding of the material and a real knack for close reading”

You feel a surge of pride at her words, but it’s tempered by the way her gaze seems to linger on you just a moment too long. Is it your imagination, or is there a hint of something more in her eyes?

“That’s great to hear,” you manage to say, shifting from foot to foot. “I really enjoy the subject matter”

“I can tell,” she says, a small smile playing at the corners of her glossy lips. “I’m glad you appreciate it. I aim to be very….hands-on with my students. “

Your mind immediately conjures images of those elegant hands all over your body, gripping your ass, stroking your cock. You shift uncomfortably, feeling yourself grow hard.

“And I couldn’t help but notice how much you seem to…admire my tits,” she continues, toying with the buttons on her shirt. “The way you stare at them during class. Like you’re aching to free them and bury your face between them.”

“Professor Karina, I….” you start to protest weakly, but she cuts you off with a wave of her hand.

“Oh please, spare me the innocent act,” she scoffs. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. Like a starving man eyeing a feast.”

She stands up and walks around the desk, hips swaying hypnotically. She comes to stand right in front of you, so close you can feel the heat radiating off her body. Her tits brush against your chest and you bite back a moan.

“You want to fuck me, don’t you?” she whispers, her breath hot on your ear. “You want to bend me over this desk and pound my pussy until I scream.”

You whimper, your cock now rock hard and straining against your zipper. “Yes,” you admit hoarsely. “Fuck yes.”

She grins wickedly, backing up slightly to give a good look of her body. “Then why don’t you show me what you’ve got? Fuck me like the horny little cumslut I am”

Before you can react, she’s unbuttoning her shirt and shrugging it off, revealing a lacy black bra that barely contains her massive tits. You gape at them, mesmerized by their perfect roundness and softness.

She reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her tits spring free, huge and heavy and perfect. The rosy nipples are hard little peaks begging to be sucked.

“Touch them,” she demands, pushing her chest out invitingly. “Grab my fucking tits and worship them like they deserve.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You reach out and cup her massive breasts in your hands, marveling at their weight and softness. They overflow your palm, the warm flesh spilling between your fingers. You squeeze them gently, feeling the heavy globes respond to your touch.

“Mhmm, just like that,” she moans, arching into your touch. “Play with those big fucking titties.”

You pinch one of her sensitive buds between your thumb and forefinger, tugging on it and rolling it back and forth until she’s writhing against you with desire. Her other nipple is just as needy, begging for attention. You give it the same treatment, watching her face contort with pleasure.

“You like that, don’t you?” she asks, voice hoarse. “Feeling my big tits in your hands. Groping them like you’ve always dreamed of”

You lean down and capture one of her nipples in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the rigid peak.

“Oh fuck, yes,” she cries out. “Suck my tits like a hungry baby. Suck them until I leak milk.”

You switch to the other nipple, lavishing it with the same attention as you palm and squeeze her breasts. The flesh is soft and pilant in your hands, yet firm with muscle beneath the surface. You could spend hours exploring those incredible tits, learning every inch of their curves and hollows.

But Karina has other ideas. She pulls your head back by your hair, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Enough playing with my tits,” she growls. “I need you to eat my cunt. Now.”

She shoves you down onto your knees and hikes up her skirt, revealing a skimpy thong already soaked through with her arousal. The scent of her pussy fills your nostrils, musky and sweet.

“Taste me,” she hisses, grinding her crotch against your face. “Shove your tongue in my fucking hole and lap up all my juices.”

You bury your face between her legs, licking and sucking at her pussy through the thin fabric of her panties. The taste of her is divine, heady and intoxicating.

“Pull my thong aside,” she pants, fisting your hair. “I want to feel your tongue on my clit.”

You comply, tugging the soaked fabric to the side and diving in with renewed fervor. You swipe your tongue along her slit, moaning at the first taste of her nectar on your tongue.

“Oh fuck yes,” she cries out, riding your face shamelessly. “Lick my cunt like a good boy. Make me cum all over that pretty mouth.”

You alternate between lapping at her folds and flicking her clit with the tip of your tongue, sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves until she’s thrashing against you.

“Fuck fuck fuck I’m gonna cum!” she screams, her thighs clamping around your head. “Don’t you dare stop!”

You double your efforts, plunging two fingers as she squirts all over your face and mouth, gushing hot cum down your throat. You swallow it greedily, relishing every drop of her essence.

When she finally comes down from her high, she pushes you away and backs up, panting heavily. “Now get up and strip,” she orders, eyes dark with lust. “It’s time for me to return the favor.”

You scramble to obey, yanking your clothes off in record time. Your cock springs free, hard and ready and straining towards her.

“Mhmm, such a nice big dick,” she purrs approvingly, stroking it with one hand while unzipping her skirt with the other. She lets it pool at her feet before stepping out of it, leaving her in just her thigh high stockings.

She turns around and bends over the desk, reaching back to spread her ass cheeks apart. Her pussy glistens with juices, pink and perfect and so fucking ready for you.

“Fuck my cunt,” she demands, looking back at you over her shoulder with a challenging glare. “Pound me into this desk until I can’t walk straight.”

You grab her hips and line up your cock with her entrance, rubbing the head teasingly through her slick folds. She moans impatiently, wiggling her ass against you.

“Stop teasing and fuck me already!” she snarls. “Impale me on that huge fucking cock!”

You can’t deny her a second longer. With one hard thrust, you bury yourself balls-deep in her tight heat. She cries out in ecstasy, her walls clamping down around you like a vice.

“Oh god yes!” she wails as you start to move, sawing in and out of her with powerful strokes. “Fuck me fuck me fuck me!”

The desk creaks and shakes beneath you as you rut into her like an animal, driven by pure primal lust. She meets every thrust with the roll of her hips, slamming against you with wanton abandon.

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room, mingling with her high-pitched moans and your low grunts of pleasure. Your hands reach around to grab her tits, squeezing the soft mounds roughly. You pinch her nipples between your fingers, twisting and pulling on the sensitive buds.

“Ahhh! Fuck yes play with my tits!” Karina moans, arching her back to push her beasts further into your grip. You comply eagerly, kneading the pillowy flesh and rolling her nipples between your fingers until they are stiff peaks.

Your hips piston faster, driving your cock deeper into her sopping wet cunt. The head bumps against her cervix with each thrust, making her yelp and shudder. You can feel her getting tighter and tighter around you, her body tensing as she nears her peak.

“I’m gonna…I’m gonna cum!” she cries out, her voice high and breathy. “Don’t stop, don’t you dare fucking stop!”

You double your efforts, pounding into her harder and faster than ever. Your balls slap against her clit with each stroke, the lewd sound making your cock throb with need. The pleasure is intense, building and building until it feels like you might explode.

“Cum inside me,” she pants, pushing back onto you with bruising force. “Fill me up with your hot seed. I want to feel you pulsing in my cunt”

Her words send you hurtling over the edge. With a roar, you bury yourself to the hilt and let go, spurting jets of cum deep into her waiting womb.

She cries out in rapture as she feels your release flooding her insides, triggering her own orgasm. Her pussy spasms around you as she comes hard, milking every last drop from your cock.

You collapse on top of her, both of you gasping for breath as the aftershocks of pleasure course through your bodies. She turns her head and captures your lips in a searing kiss, plundering your mouth with her tongue.

When you finally break apart, she smiles at you wickedly. “Mhmm, now that’s what I call a productive study session,” she purrs, giving your softening cock a squeeze. “But don’t think we are done yet. I’m going to drain those big balls of yours until you are completely empty.”

She strokes your semi-hard length, coaxing it back to full mast. You groan at the sensation, still sensitive from your recent orgasm. But your body responds eagerly to her touch, your cock hardening in her grip.

“I want you to fuck my tits,” Karina demands, pushing you down on the desk chair. She kneels before you, squeezing her breasts together. “Cum all over those perfect tits. Coat me in your juice.”

You can only nod dumbly, too turned on to form words. She takes your rigid cock and nestles it between her soft mounds, enveloping you in warm, pillowy flesh. Then she starts moving, sliding up and down your shaft with a steady rhythm.

“Oh fuck,” you groan, mesmerized by the sight of your dick disappearing between her tits over and over.

You can’t believe this is actually happening. The hottest professor on campus, the one you have fantasized about for weeks, is on her knees before you, her luscious tits wrapped around your aching cock. It’s like something out of a daydream.

As Karina works your shaft with her perfect breasts, you reach out to grab her hair, guiding her head down further. She takes the hint, hollowing her cheeks and sucking hard on the tip of your cock each time it pops out from her cleavage.

“Oh fuck, yes,” you groan, hips bucking up to meet her movements. “Suck that cock you dirty slut. Show me how much you love having my dick in your mouth.”

She moans around you, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Her hands cup your balls, massaging them gently as she blows you. You are so close now, your thrusts becoming erratic and desperate.

“I’m getting close again,” you warn her, hips thrusting like a madman into her pillowy tits. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum soon!”

“Yes, do it!” she urges, squeezing her tits tighter around you. “Paint my tits with your hot cum. I want to be covered in it!”

Her dirty words push you over the edge. With a guttural moan, you explode, your cock pulsing as thick ropes of semen spurt out and splatter across her chest. She aims your cock so that each shot lands on her breasts, glazing them with your essence.

When your orgasm finally subsides, you collapse back in the chair, chest heaving. Karina releases your spent cock, admiring the mess you’ve made of her tits. She scoops some of your cum onto her fingers and licks it off with a moan.

“Mhmm, you taste even better on my tits,” she purrs, sucking the last drop from her digits. “Such a good boy, giving me exactly what I wanted.” She stands, leaning down to give you a deep passionate kiss, sharing your combined taste.

Before you can plead for more, she breaks the kiss. “Now it’s time for the main event,” she says, rolling onto her hands and knees. She looks over her shoulder at you, ass high in the air. “Come and claim your prize, tiger. Stick that big cock in my ass.”

Despite having cummed twice, your cock has already begun throbbing at the sight of her magnificent ass. You kneel behind her and rub the head on her slick folds, coating yourself in her juices. Then you notch it against her puckered hole and start to push.

“Oh fuck,” Karina gasps as you breach her tight ring of muscle, “You’re so big. Stretching me so good.”

You groan as her ass clench around you, hot and velvety soft. You grip her hips and start to move, slowly at first, letting her adjust to your size. But soon you are pounding into her, hard and fast, just the way she needs it.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Karina wails, taking your pounding like a champ. Her tits bounce and jiggle with the force of your strokes, the lewd sight spurring you on.

Unable to resist, you reach around and grab her melons, kneading the soft mounds and pinching her nipples. You use her tits to your heart’s content, tugging and twisting her sensitive peaks as you rut into her from behind. The dual stimulation has her writhing in ecstasy, her pussy clenching around nothing as her ass milks your cock.

“I’m close,” she warns, voice tight with impending release. “Fuck me harder! Make me cum on that big cock!”

Your hips snap forward like a piston, hammering into her ass with brutal force. Karina’s ass clenches even tighter around your cock as her lips spill a string of curses.

“Oh god, I’m cumming!” she screams, back arching as her orgasm overtakes her. Her ass spasms around you, her inner walls rippling along your shaft as she comes hard.

The feeling of her clenching and fluttering pushes you over the edge. With a roar, you slam into her one last time, emptying your balls into her ass.

“Fuck,” you growl as you erupt, painting her walls with your thick essence. Jet after jet of cum spurts from your slit, flooding her ass and leaking around your shaft.

You keep your cock buried in her for a moment as you catch your breath before pulling out, letting a waterfall of cum pour out from her now gaping hole.

It feels like every bone in your body has been turned to lead, your breathing ragged and shallow. You collapse, finally broken after three continuous fuck session.

As you lay there on the cold floor contemplating what the hell has just happened, Karina’s face hovered into view, looking too energetic for someone who has just gotten their asshole stretched loose.

She leans in, hinting at a kiss before pulling back with a wicked smile. “You know we are not done yet, right?”

-

In this series, I intend to focus purely on smut. There won't be much plot, just 99 percent smut. Some dialogues and sceneries might not even make sense. But that's the point. Because it's pure fantasy.

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part thirty-four —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 4.5k tags: death. blood and gore. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. enemies to lovers. harm to a child. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

The rattle of vials cuts through the quiet sobbing as you raid the cabinet, stuffing a backpack with painkillers and sedatives. No antibiotics.  

"Is there any alcohol?" 

From the corner of the room, the response breaks apart. "There's... some... under there."

You move to the sink, uncorking a half-filled bottle that reeks of absinthe. It fits snugly into the backpack. A nod to Nereida. She lowers the gun from the young woman’s temple. Straps over your shoulders, you step into the smoke-tinged air, leaving the woman behind, when her accented voice chokes out: "You have taken... everything from us."

You stand in the doorway, watching a piece of ash fall on the scuffed leather of your shoe, then glance over your shoulder. "There is still some medicine left in there. Take what you can, get the other women, and leave. This place could be teeming with Greys soon with all the blood spilt. Travel north. We're going south." Her glossy eyes drift up from her hands. Your gaze hardens. "We will kill you if we see you. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she whispers.

You look away. "Salome is in the cell. Alive."

The flames lick at the chapel’s frame as you return to the others. The stone walls have blackened, the door swallowed in fire, windows shattered. The acrid stench of scorched wood and charred flesh burns your nose. The last survivors—the few men left after Price and Kyle cleared the barn—had been shoved inside with the Grey. 

You need to get out of here—away from the stench of blood. Clean water is urgent. A safe place to treat everyone's wounds, even more so. The adrenaline is wearing off, so you move quickly, pausing only to hastily dress Blue's feet and Ghost's back with medical cloth from the cabinet before continuing down the main road. While everyone yields a backpack and gun, Ghost carries Blue to his chest. He hasn't once let her go. 

The flames still flicker behind you when his grip falters. He stops to adjust her weight, and you touch his elbow, speaking low. "Let Price or Kyle carry her."

"I've got it."

You don’t press, though the gnawing concern remains. How much blood has he lost? You can only hope it's clotted enough to hold a bit longer. 

The only words Price manages are instructions—what to watch for to indicate freshwater. Downward slopes, converging animal tracks. You’re nowhere near as injured as the others, yet your thighs shake, your vision blurs, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut to regain focus. You still flinch at every sound, ready for blood.

An hour out, the sun hangs heavy. Dense vegetation and a small cliffside offer promise. Carefully, you help each other down. Ghost finally relents, letting Blue cling onto Price’s shoulders so he can manage rappelling down the rocks. You stay close without thinking, your hand ghosting over his bicep when he wavers.

Then you smell it. Water.

Relief nearly buckles your knees.

A narrow creek winds between boulders, tucked beneath towering cypresses.

Everyone washes off the blood, dulling the stench. A fire will be needed to clean it for the wounds. As you rake water through your hair, your gaze drifts upstream—where cypresses give way to ripened plum trees, bordering what seems like a property. Price sees it too. He’s already shouldering his backpack, moving to check it out.

The gown pools at your ankles, dipping into the shallow water as you cross. The property is silent, save for the rhythmic tapping of a woodpecker. You tighten your grip on the gun, scanning the unkempt garden and overgrown path leading to the estate—a summer home fit for a family or, as you soon realize, two wealthy old fucks. Their skeletons are all that remain inside, draped in dust like the furniture around them.

Price lowers the rifle to his side and nods in approval. "This will do."

If you could, you’d strip off the stained gown and shut your eyes. Instead, you follow Ghost as he kicks open doors—nothing but a bathroom and parlor. On the second floor, the first door to meet his boot reveals a bedroom. You shake the dust from the quilt, and he carefully lays Blue down. You're already sifting through the backpack.

Ghost kneels to take her feet. He fumbles with the cloth, exhaustion stealing motor function. You help, unveiling the jagged cuts edged with dirt. Ghost grits, "They did this?"

"I did," she whispers. "I hoped you'd find me... and the Greys... they got distracted by my shoes."

Her words linger as you dab alcohol onto a strip of cloth. "This will hurt," you whisper, biting your cheek.

Ghost grips her ankle to keep it still and takes her hand, offering something to squeeze. At first touch, her nails claw at his wrist. Her lips press tightly together to muffle a small sound that dies in her throat, and then she falls silent. Her eyes flutter shut, reopening only to release a lone tear when you finish with both, then wrap them again.

"Your arms," you say, reaching for them. One is already bandaged—must've been done by them. The other is freshly cut. When you try to look at it, she recoils, inhaling sharply.

"They did this one, didn't they?" he asks.

A slight nod of her chin.

Anger leeches from Ghost's skin.

He exhales sharply through flared nostrils, then gently takes her wrist, pressing a kiss to the skin just before the cut begins.

"Let Twix clean it, baby."

Her fist clenches before she offers you her arm. More tears cut a trail down to her lips. 

"There. Let's get you something else to wear," you breathe out, stuffing the cork back in once it's over. 

What you find in the closet is at least better than the bloodied dress she was supposed to die in—a large flannel shirt that smells like old man. Blue accepts it, but stares at the shirt in her hands for a long moment before asking Ghost to look away. He does, and you help her, keeping your eyes on hers while undressing her.

You turn to Ghost. "Your turn," you whisper.

Lowering to the bed is a great effort, one you have to steady with a hand under his armpit. As gently as possible, you peel the cloth from his back. Seeing his wounds before did nothing to prepare you for this—up close, in the unforgiving sunlight. Deep, inflamed gashes ooze fresh blood at the disruption. The stench of festering flesh makes it hard to focus as you murmur for Blue to touch his hair, distract him for the first dab of alcohol.

Where Blue was able to silence herself, he cannot. Not when it’s this bad. The terrible, wrecked groan and the violent jerk of his body make you want to disappear—to run and let someone else do this to him. But you know you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t trust anyone else to. So you steady the tremble in your fingers and continue, the room heavy with his pain. It finds its way to your back, as though someone behind you is holding a whip. The phantom pain sinks into your skin with each of his groans, forcing you to push it away to steady your hand as you work.

Blue twists her fingers in his hair, whispering in his ear. "It's almost over, dad."

By the time the wounds are cleaned, redness remains, offering little reassurance. Over a day's worth of sweat and bacteria isn't something you can simply undo. You'll need to keep an eye on them. You sift through the vials and push two painkillers to his lips, helping him sit up to swallow them. As you’re about to help him back down, he grabs onto your wrist, a pulse of pain pulling your gaze to where you slit your own vein. The linen strip is soaked through. Ghost silently unties it and reaches for the alcohol at the bedside table.

"They did that?" Blue questions from behind him.

"I did."

The pain sears as he cleans it, though it’s nothing compared to his.

When he lays back on his stomach, there’s no fighting the heaviness of his eyelids. Blue curls up beside him, wincing. You get her two painkillers as well.

"Is he going to be alright?" she asks quietly.

You pull the light quilt over her body. "His body just needs to rest. So does yours."

"That's not an answer, Twix."

The way she calls you out makes your face fall. "I'm sorry. I just... I don't know."

There is a pause of silence before she sighs audibly, arms falling flat at her sides and her gaze finding the ceiling. "I don't think I can sleep."

Your chest tightens at the thought of what she must be thinking of, what she must have seen when you weren't with her. The wounds you can't wrap up. You dig for one of the sedatives: lorazepam. "Here." 

It takes a while for it to take effect.

"You're safe," you whisper to her, over and over, tucking her hair behind her ear until you feel the subtle shift in her muscles as they slowly loosen from their panicked tension. When sleep finally comforts her, a shift in the air causes you to leap up.

"It's me," Nereida whispers, poking in her head. "The others are sleeping, too."

Right. The others. "They're alright?"

"Just a few fractured ribs."

"Someone needs to keep watch."

"I'll do it." Seeing the protest twist on your face, she adds, "You haven't slept in days."

She's right. It was impossible to sleep in that cell outside of being drugged.

You give in. "Patrol the whole property if you can. And keep track of the air. The flowers here should help mask our scent, but—"

"I've got it, Twix."

The fatigue truly hits when she leaves. You barely have enough fight in you left to peel off the stupid dress and raise another flannel shirt from the closet over your head, the hem resting above your knees. There is a chair in the room—that's where you sink down, knees tucked to your chest. At first when you close your eyes, the world is loud and red. Then, it quiets to black.

A dove call announces morning, and you jolt awake to fresh light from the window.

You fell asleep.

They've already killed her.

You didn't get there in time—

Your gaze lands on the small body lying in the bed beside a much larger one, and the panic escapes through a shaky breath. You inhale and exhale to calm your heart rate before uncurling from the chair to touch Blue's soft cheek. The skin is cool. You move to her father next. Palm to his forehead. Hot, dry skin snaps your touch away as if burning you. 

"Fucking shit," chokes out of you, along with a fresh wave of urgency. Blue stirs in her sleep. You clamp a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself and whirl out of the room. A fever: you need water. If you hadn't slept so long, you could've boiled some sooner. With the recovered energy, you race outside in the chilled morning air.

Nereida sits up from the porch.

"Good morning. You're the first one up. I haven't seen—"

"He is burning up," you seethe. "You should've waken me. I slept all through the night!"

Her eyes widen. "I didn't—"

You push past her. "I'm getting water."

She lightly touches your elbow. "I already got some from the creek. I boiled it over the fireplace." She rushes to show you the full metal pot in the kitchen. 

You don't pause to say thank you, hoisting the water upstairs to urgently wet a cloth and place it over his forehead. His lashes flutter, once, then twice, before fully opening.

"You have a fever," you exhale, swallowing hard. "I need you to drink a little."

He sits up to swallow a handful of the water from your palm, faint bobs of his throat, and you feel just how dry his lips are. His voice emerges low. "Did they have anything for it?"

"No antibiotics," you admit, swiping a thumb over the faint freckle on his temple, as if maybe, the sip of water has already changed the temperature. It hasn't. A growl pushes under your breath. "A goddamn cult who had shit to knock us out with but hardly anything to treat infections. We'll need to experiment a bit."

"Sounds promising," he manages through his teeth. He glances down at his daughter. "She's alright?"

"She's okay, not warm." You inhale sharply. "Lay down. Let me look at it again."

When he does, you gently remove the bandages and are met with yellow-green pus. The sound that fills your throat, caught between helplessness and disgust, has him popping an eye open to look back at you over his shoulder. "Sorry, it's just..." Another explicative leaves your lips, and you have to bite your cheek hard to keep from vomiting at the sight and smell. Blue is awake now, sitting up against the pillow; she need only glance over once for her face to twist in concern. 

"It's bad, isn't it?" She covers her mouth.

"I need to drain it," is what you say. Luckily, it's already oozing, saving the need to puncture the wounds open. You wet another cloth and carefully press at the swollen ridge of the first laceration, making him groan through his teeth as pus begins to run down his sides. Blue has one hand back in his hair, and uses another wet cloth to collect the pus. You keep pressing, draining each irregular wound, having to remind yourself the rotten smell being released is for the better. 

After what feels like hours, it's mostly cleared. Only a bit of swelling remains, revealing just how deeply the skin was shredded, as if slashed through repeatedly in the same spots. 

"How come you were hurt more than the others?" Blue asks him the question you've been mulling over since the moment you found him. 

"I was their favorite," he mumbles lowly. "The most handsome."

Your brows lower.

"It's not funny," she presses, nails twisting in his hair, teeth grinding. "It's infected. You could fucking die."

"I won't," he says to her, but the silent, heavy glance you exchange with him acknowledges the understanding that he very well could, deepening the harsh pit in your stomach. "We have a nurse here."

"An unlicensed one." You finish securing a new layer of cloth and lean back. "And one without real medicine." Realizing you are supposed to be reassuring her, you hide the way your nails pick each other and add, "But draining all that pus will help. Eating will help even more," you look at Blue, "For you, too."

Blue and you share a meal of wild cucumbers, strawberries, and two small field mice you catch by the creek, swiftly snapping their necks before skinning them. For Ghost, you boil the bones with garden carrots to make a broth. You have to coax him into finishing it, no matter how it tastes, promising that once it's done, he can sleep longer.

By the time the others are awake, you and Blue have failed to leave his side, simply watching the continued rise and fall of his chest as if it might halt if you look away. "Please get better," you catch her murmuring. The only time you go is to speak with Price, informing him that Ghost is in no condition to travel again. 

"Twix," he interrupts you, the knowing tick in his brow, and worn smile, making you realize you'd been rambling, your tone coming off a bit accusatory. "I have no intention for us to continue yet. No one is ready for it. We need food, and rest."

You release a filtered sigh, nodding. "I can help hunt, I just need to—"

A firm hand finds your shoulder. His seafoam eyes glance past you at the door to the bedroom, then back into your gaze, low voice barely above a murmur. "You've done more than enough. Let us take care of the food. Just make sure we don't lose him, alright?"

You nod, and when he turns to leave, you mutter to yourself, "I'm trying."

You spend the evening refreshing his bandages, and draining the new wave of pus. You have the idea to look for onions in the garden, remembering they have antimicrobial properties, but there aren't any. So you clean the wounds again with a flush of water, and also scrub his dirty hair a bit. Your brain must be tricking you, because once when you touch him it feels like his fever has at least dropped a degree or two, but then a minute later it feels like it went up more. There is practically no color to his skin except the angry red of his wounds, and the rosy sheen on his cheeks. Other than that he is a pale ghost. It's as if your efforts haven't done a thing.

Frustration strangles your lungs, and you palm at your forehead. His body, deprived of sleep and nutritions for days, is struggling to bounce back, to fight off the encroaching bacteria. His unyielding strength is yielding; succumbing. He needs more food and water. You try to sit him up again, retrieving a small bit of leftover broth, but he is unable to help pull his weight.

"Come on, Simon. Please."

He's too heavy for you, even with Blue pulling at his other arm.

You hurry out of the room and call for Price. He and Nereida are there quickly, his rifle ready. "No, I just need—I need you to lift him."

Price drops the gun to steady Simon up despite the heavy hiss of protest. "Gotta eat, Simon."

He holds him as you spoon broth to his mouth, having to rub at his jaw to release enough tension for him to open it and swallow. 

The room is quiet once it's all done, and Nereida stands in the doorway with her head hung low. Price carefully lays him back down so as not disturb the work you've done to his back. He glances at the empty bowl in your hands. "Kyle cut up some squirrels he killed earlier. I'll tell him to make more broth with them in the morning."

All you can do is nod and pass the bowl to him.

When they leave, the heaviness in the room has Blue picking at her wrist. You take her hand, placing another painkiller and sedative in them, and urge her to lay down for more rest.

"I'll stay up with him, alright?"

Her chin drops, and she stares blankly at the quilt. "What happens to me if he dies?"

The hollowness in her voice cuts through you. "We can't think like that," you murmur, refusing to acknowledge how terrified the answer makes you.

"Why not?" Her eyes blaze in the dark. "It's a possibility. I've never seen him like this before."

You shake your head, touching two fingers under her jaw to tilt it up so yours eyes meet. "He's stubborn, like you. And he has too much to live for. He loves you."

She looks away. "I'm not like him. I wouldn't be able to keep going on my own."

"You’ll never be on your own. He and I... we will always come for you," you swear, your voice firmer than you intend. You soften it to a whisper, breathing out, "But even if you were, you’re smarter and stronger than anyone here. There’s nothing you can’t handle, Blue. It was you who kept yourself alive this time."

"It was just luck," she murmurs, curling a fist into the sheet below her. She peers back at you. "If you guys hadn’t found me, I would’ve been bitten to death."

"No," you insist. "It wasn’t luck. You survived because you saw the opportunities, and you took them. You made time for us to find you. You are just like him."

Emotion floods through you, thick and reeling. Without thinking, you pull her into a solid hug, pressing your nose to her scalp. "You’re just like him," you whisper again, screwing your eyes shut. White-hot tears escape, burning a quiet trail down your cheeks, and you feel her begin to tremble in your arms, silently soaking your shirt with her own tears.

Through them, she manages to whisper, twisting your shirt in her fists, "I-I don't want him to leave me again. H-he said he wouldn't."

"He won't," you promise, struggling to catch your breath through a choke, the words rushing out of you. "Never again. I won't let it happen."

After minutes, hours, like this, she grows limp with exhaustion, and you lay her back down, tucking her under the quilt and wiping your cheeks. 

You resume position in the chair by Ghost. 

This time, you refuse to close your eyes, locking them onto him—the way his cheek is squished against the pillow, the bare stretch of his arm, the curve of his ribs where an old scar splits into the new ones. You keep pulling the blanket over him, thinking maybe the extra heat will break his fever, only to rip it back off moments later, convinced the cool night air would be better. Frustration burns behind your eyes as you rub them hard, then press your forehead against the uninjured part of his shoulder.

“Goddamn it, Simon,” you whisper, pulling back just enough to trace your thumb over the freckles there, connecting them with soft, absentminded sweeps of your finger.

It must be well into the night when sleep threatens with a pull at your lids, and again, you see red. Blood-red. Like the burst of an open throat. You reopen them and jolt up to your feet, panting hard. The need for a distraction to keep yourself awake pulls you out of the room for a stretch of your legs, pupils straining against the dark hall as you stumble through it, crossing your arms over yourself. You've barely looked through this place besides what was necessary, so it's a surprise when you happen upon a spiral staircase going up, not down. 

A cool metal rail bites your fingertips as you heave upward, revealing a small attic library. Dark oak shelves reach the low ceiling, all of the leather spines neatly alined as if never having been touched even once: a capsule of time. A large window at the far end offers enough moonlight for your eyes to scan the embellished spines as you brush a finger over them, various French titles staring back at you. You work your way to the window, where the thin curtain is parted just enough to allow you a view of the creek, cliffside, and dark horizon where stars disappear into distant earth. 

"I should've killed them." The words barely leave your lips before the stench of burning flesh fills your senses. Your hands shake violently. With a sudden, forceful yank, you tear the curtain from the rod. Your voice cracks, rising. "I should have killed them. All of them. I shouldn't have let a single one walk away."

You spin around and begin pulling books off the shelves, ripping at pages, thrashing them at the floor with a cacophony of thuds, until only half are left untouched. The years-old dust caking the covers explodes into your eyes, stinging them, and tears begin to fall, the painful kind. They come hard, ragged, anything but quiet. You sink to the oriental rug, burying your face into your knees and hugging them close as you sob through your teeth, scraping your nails into your shins.

You imagine all their faces: the blonde man who tortured them, the old woman you only saw once when they took Blue, all the pretty eyes beneath the stupid veils. In your head, you slash all of them to pieces. Shreds. Torn nerves and burst eyes. Until you are swimming in their entrails. 

There is a voice. In your head maybe. But no, it's real—someone touches your shoulder, and you flinch. You lift your gaze, and through it, make out the shape of warm, almond eyes, one of them half-opened beneath a swollen bruise.

Kyle kneels beside you. He doesn't say anything, just sits there, his knee touching yours the only point of connection. When your crying subsides, you feel a tinge of embarrassment at the state he's found you in, and wipe at your cheeks. "Sorry. I woke you up."

"I was already awake."

Silence hums between you, and he thoughtlessly picks up one of the books, thumbing through the pages, then quietly closes it.

"We all owe you our lives, you know. Nereida told us about all you did."

You dig your chin into the tops of your knees and stare off at the wall. "I still didn't do enough."

"You're doing all you can." His gaze pierces into the side of your face, making you feel translucent. "He'll be alright. Always is."

You don't know what to say to that, sighing through flared nostrils and looking down at your feet before over at him. "How is Ari?"

"He's alright. Just shaken, I think. Thank you for asking." A tinge of guilt finds you that you haven't checked on them enough. Ari, just a boy, and he's hardly crossed your mind through any of this.

"You know," Kyle continues quietly, his knuckles whitening around the book. "When we were in there, I didn’t know what to say to get him through it—because I couldn't see much hope myself. I had to watch, do nothing, while they made him memorize that goddamn book just to earn a meal. And he wasn’t allowed to share any with me." He lets out a short, bitter snort. "I've never felt so fucking weak. So powerless. Watching someone you love suffer, not knowing how to help them..." His gaze locks onto yours. "That has to be a pain worse than any torture."

His words hit you with unexpected poignancy, leaving your mind tangled in a jumble of thoughts you can’t quite grasp. Instead of trying to make sense of them, you reach for him, squeezing his shoulders in a firm hug, grounding yourself as your heart evens out. He promises to make the broth in the morning, then excuses himself with one last touch to your shoulder before leaving you to collect yourself. You head back to the bedroom, checking both of their pulses, her pinky curled around his in her sleep. To Blue, you give a kiss on her hair. To him, your lips press unthinkingly to his hot temple.

[trashytracktales]

For VDay requests: Lando takes her to a nice dinner and she gets mad at him idk maybe he does something without realizing. And then they come back home and shes still pissed but he looks so good after he changes in his comfy clothes so they end up fucking on the couch or something but that's when she tells him why was she mad at him ❤🥀

Happy Valentine's Day guys xx

Torn on Valentine | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you for this request, I actually had so much fun with it. Enjoy your reading and happy Valentine’s, my lovelies!!

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🩷summary ──── Lando notices immediately that his girlfriend is angry with him. However, he has no idea why. But whatever the reason might be, he is determined to remind her exactly why she can't stay mad for long. It's Valentine’s Day, after all.

🩷pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

🩷rating ──── explicit

🩷category ──── F/M

🩷warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, established relationship, descriptive language, swearing, unresolved tension, teasing, jealous!reader, mild dominance, begging, unprotected sex, slight angst-to-smut.

🩷word count ──── 4.4k (4.444 to be exact hehe)

🩷date ──── Feb. 14, 2025

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﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

VALENTINE’S DAY IS ruined.

Lando had gone all out to make sure that won’t happen, starting the morning by waking her up with muffins in bed, the scent of vanilla still lingering in the sheets as he pressed lazy little kisses to her neck.

They spent the day walking around the city, and shopping, wandering through little boutiques where he insisted on buying her anything and everything she had laid her eyes on.

And then, la pièce de résistance: a fancy dinner at an exclusive restaurant, the kind of place with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. A soft melody played from a piano in the corner, setting the perfect atmosphere. The food was great, the wine was good, and every detail screamed romance, from the flickering candle between them to the way Lando’s thumb traced tiny heart shapes on her hand as they talked, his eyes never leaving hers.

All in all, it had been perfect. Until he ruined it.

The moment was burned into her mind, replaying it over and over again, like a broken record. The waiter, a girl who had been a little too friendly with him all night, had leaned in when she refilled his wine at some point, brushing his shoulder with a touch that lingered for too long. And Lando, oblivious as ever, had winked at her.

Winked.

She knew her boyfriend. Knew he was clueless about these things, that his flirty nature wasn’t always intentional. But that didn’t make it sting any less. Because the waiter had noticed. She smirked at him, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and acted like his girlfriend wasn’t literally sitting on the other side of the table.

After that, she had gone silent.

The entire ride home, she stared out the window, with her arms crossed and lips pursed, and her knees facing the opposite way from him. Lando figured something was wrong ever since; he glanced at her between shifts, brows furrowing, but he didn’t say anything, probably thinking she was just tired.

Then they got home, and she had barely looked at him as she changed into something more comfortable, still replaying the scene in her head.

Had he done it on purpose? Probably not. But did it matter?

That’s… debatable. It mattered to her.

Deprived by every emotion except irritation, she followed Lando setting up his last surprise of the day — a cozy movie marathon on the couch, complete with fuzzy blankets, sweets and drinks, and a bunch of her favorite Valentine’s-themed movies ready to run.

Now, their apartment is quiet except for the hum of the TV that neither of them is really watching. The tension between them is thick, lingering in the air like a storm that hasn’t broken. Yet.

She breathes heavily, sitting curled up on the opposite side of the couch, legs tucked beneath her, and arms crossed over her chest. Lando, on the other side, is content to let her be.

Until he isn’t.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong, or are we playing the guessing game again?” he finally asks, voice edged with concern. He knows that she needs time to process whatever’s bothering her at the moment, but his patience has limits, too.

She doesn’t look at him, just shrugs as she lies, “Nothing’s wrong.”

Lando puffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Right. That’s why you’ve been side-eyeing me like I insulted your entire family ever since we got back. It’s annoying, you know? If you have something to say…” his voice trails off, but he feels a wave of anger building inside, so he decides to let go before making it worse.

Her jaw tightens.

She doesn’t want to give in, mostly because she knows that the reason why she’s mad is, well, kind of absurd. But at the same time, she’s frustrated in a way that isn’t just about her boyfriend winking at other girls. The weight of the week has been pressing down on her shoulders, and she needs something — him — but she’s too stubborn to say it. Especially now. Still, her eyes keep flickering down, lingering on the way his sweatpants hang low on his hips, the lazy way he’s sprawled out, legs spread wide.

He catches her looking, fighting a smile as he stretches his arms over the back of the couch. “You wanna sit on it?”

Her head snaps toward him, face heating instantly at his question. “What?”

Lando shrugs, “You keep looking,” he tilts his head, feigning innocence. “Figured I’d save you the trouble of pretending you don’t want to.”

She scoffs, but can’t deny it. She does want to. Desperately. But she’s mad at him. So, she says nothing. Just presses her lips together, turning her attention back to the screen like she isn’t thinking about climbing onto his lap and letting him pull her apart, little by little.

On the TV, the main characters are making out, sending her mind spinning relentlessly, fueling her sudden desire. Apparently, that’s enough for her to decide that she has to put an end to it, finally taking Lando’s advice and speak her mind. But he’s faster. His hands are reaching out for her, almost like they appeared out of nowhere, gripping her waist, effortlessly pulling her onto his lap.

A surprised gasp leaves her lips, but she doesn’t fight him, and doesn’t push him away. If anything, she melts just a little, legs instinctively settling on either side of his hips.

He looks up at her, fingers squeezing at her waist. “That’s better, hm?”

She glares, but there’s no real heat behind it. “I didn’t say you could touch me.”

Lando raises his eyebrows in surprise. “You didn’t say I couldn’t either,” he counters, sliding his hands down to grip her thighs, thumbs brushing tiny, teasing circles on her skin. “And you’re not exactly running away.”

She hates how smug he is. Hates how easily he sees through her act. Hates how good he looks right now.

But then his hands slide further up, fingertips ghosting over the curve of her ass, pressing her down against him just enough for her to feel him through the fabric of his sweats. And the feeling is… intense to say the least, since she’s only wearing an oversized t-shirt and her pajama shorts.

Lando watches her closely, aware of the effect he has on her. “Gonna tell me why you’re mad, or do I have to make you forget?”

She shouldn’t give him the satisfaction. But when he shifts beneath her, dragging her forward so deliciously slow, her resolve crumbles.

Her hands grip his shoulders, nails pressing in. “Shut up.”

“And?”

She closes her eyes, exasperated by his attitude, “Shut up and do something.”

Lando grins at her bluntness, fingers tightening on her hips as he rolls her against him again. “Ask nicely.”

She huffs annoyed, but so needy it aches. “Lando,” she warns in a low voice.

Lando shakes his head. “No, baby. You know how this works,” he reminds her, lips brushing against her neck as his hands keep guide her movements. “Use your words.”

She breathes lightly, head tipping back as the friction sends heat pooling low in her belly. “Please?”

“See, that’s a good start,” he chuckles, nipping at her jaw and dragging his tongue over the sting, “But I know you can do better.”

Her pride wars with her desperation, but it’s a losing battle. She needs more than that, and she knows he won’t give it to her until she breaks.

Next time she speaks, her voice is a whisper, breathy yet sweet, “I need you, please.”

He smirks as he watches her through his eyelashes, happy with the state he managed to put her in so easily. “There goes my girl.”

Lando can see the shift in her the second he finishes his sentence. It’s in the way frustration morphs into impatience, and how her breath hitches every time he grinds her against him but doesn’t give her what she really wants.

“I know you’re enjoying this, but there’s no reason for you to take your sweet ass time, you know that,” she mutters, her voice edged with irritation.

Lando shrugs. “And you know I like watching you squirm.”

She rolls her eyes, but her body betrays her — again and again. Her fingers curl into the fabric of his hoodie, while her thighs tense around his waist. With a sharp exhale, she moves on her own now, hands sliding down between them, tugging at the waistband of his sweats. Lando follows her movements, amused, but doesn’t stop her as she pulls them down just enough to free him.

Her breath catches at the sight: he’s already hard, the head flushed deep red, leaking just slightly.

She glances back at him, brows raised, but Lando shrugs again, as if the reason is obvious. “You on my lap, begging? Kinda hard not to get… you know, hard.”

Her stomach clenches at his nonchalance, the way he acts like it’s inevitable. Like, of course he’d be this ready for her. Duh.

Lando exhales excited as she wraps her fingers around him, stroking just enough to make his hips twitch beneath her. His breath gets slightly unsteady after that, but his control remains.

“Getting bold now?” he asks, eyes locked on her as he pushes her shirt up just a little, tracing his fingers along the warm skin of her waist.

The girl doesn’t answer, just bites her lip as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of her shorts, dragging them down and letting them catch on the curve of her thighs before she kicks them away. That’s when the teasing glint in Lando’s eyes fades, replaced with something darker. He swallows hard, hands settling firm on her hips as he drinks her in.

“So soft,” he mumbles under his breath, mostly to himself.

She feels exposed in a way that has nothing to do with being half-naked. It’s like he’s seeing everything, because he knows her so deeply. Like he’s about to ruin her in the best way possible.

And she’s going to let him.

Lando wraps his hand around hers and, together, they pump his cock slowly, his gaze always on her, watching the way her body responds to the sight of it. Then he runs his thumb over the tip, spreading the bead of wetness there while he moves purposely, dragging the length of himself through her folds, groaning at how slick and warm she is.

“Fucking hell,” he breathes, pressing his forehead to hers for a second, while she needs to hold on to him with both hands now. “You’re dripping.”

She whimpers as he does it again, sliding against her, teasing her clit with the thick head before pulling back, drawing out her frustration.

“Lando, don’t…” she whines, shifting against his chest, trying to get more of him.

Lando laughs, low and raspy, but his grip on her isn’t loosening one bit. “Patience, baby.”

“I need—”

“Yeah?” he cuts her off, pressing the head of his cock against her entrance this time, barely pushing in before pulling back out. “What? This what you need?”

Her stomach flips at the feeling, so raw, unable to spit out any words. Instead, she only manages to nod.

To show her that he appreciates her honesty, Lando guides her hips, dragging her along his length, pressing his swollen tip against her clit once more and holding her there. Without moving. She gasps, her whole body shuddering as the pressure sends sparks through her nerves.

Lando groans, feeling how she pulses against him, how her body aches for more. “Well, shit. That’s pretty,” he admits, watching her fall apart in his hands.

She lets a little cry out in protest, trying to push down, but he keeps her there, right on the edge of everything, everything.

“You gonna beg for it again?” he asks in a teasing voice.

She wants to fight him on it, but she can’t. Not when she’s this close to him, when every second of waiting feels like pure, unfiltered torture.

She shakes her head, her little cry turning into a throaty moan.

Lando gets ecstatic at the sound and the way her body shivers — so desperate, so utterly wrecked for him before he’s even inside her. For a split second, he considers giving in completely. But then he remembers she’s mad at him. Or at least, she was. And if she thinks she can get away with that attitude without consequence, she needs to understand that she’s sorely mistaken.

Instead of giving her what she wants, Lando kisses her. Hard. His lips crash into hers, swallowing the whimper of frustration that slips from her throat. He starts guiding her against him, harder now, making her ride the thick length of his cock without ever letting her sink onto it, the friction sweet but never enough. She tries to pull back, gasping against his mouth, but he doesn’t let her. One hand tangles in her hair, holding her close, keeping her exactly where he wants her.

Until her patience snaps and, with a sharp gasp, she bites his lip, just hard enough to make him hiss, her nails digging into his scalp as she pulls at his curls. Lando moans, a low, needy sound that strikes her like lightning. The sting, the fight, the way she’s clawing for a type of control she won’t get — not yet — motivates him to keep teasing her.

Annoyed, she lets her hand slip between them, fingers wrapping around his cock, slick and throbbing, before she finally sinks down onto him. Because, sometimes, the best thing you can do for yourself is to take matters into your own hands.

At that, both of them go silent.

Her body tightens around him instantly, the fullness of him stealing her breath, making her walls flutter as she adjusts to his length.

Lando’s forehead presses against hers, his lips parting with a violent inhale, his hands squeezing her hips.

“Jesus, baby,” he breathes, voice wrecked, “What buttons did I push?”

She doesn’t reply. Doesn’t move. Neither does he.

They just sit like that, their bodies locked together so perfectly it almost feels cruel to even blink. The fight, the frustration, the teasing… it all fades away in one moment, replaced by something more intense. Something profund.

When she shifts just slightly, Lando whines, feeling the way she clenches around him, and how perfectly they fit together. The thought makes him throb inside her, the heat of her making his pulse race.

She presses her forehead harder against his, her breath shaky. “Baby,” she whispers, “Shit, you feel so good.”

Lando opens his eyes, finding hers already on him.

For a second, he’s happy to simply look at her. Her flushed cheeks, the way her lips are swollen from his kisses, the way she’s barely holding herself together — everything about her is perfection. Then, he lifts her up, and the sudden rush of cool air against his cock makes him moan.

She shrieks at the emptiness, at the way her body aches to take him back. “Please, not now,” she pleads.

Before she can continue, he shoves himself back in, agonizingly slow, making her feel every inch of him as he stretches her again. As a result, her head falls forward, a desperate whimper breaking from her throat.

Lando keeps his eyes on her, his lips brushing against hers as he speaks, “Already falling apart, love? I’ve barely even started.”

She whines, arms wrapping around his neck, hips twitching like she wants more. Much more.

“This what you needed, yes?” Lando taunts, rolling his hips just enough to make her lose her mind. “You gonna stop being a brat now?”

She tries to answer, but all that comes out is a shaky breath. Lando smiles, dragging himself out just to push back in, watching her eyes flutter shut.

“No, no. Keep those pretty eyes open,” he instructs, nipping at her jaw, “Come on. I wanna watch you break for me.”

Because he is absolutely evil, Lando keeps it slow. Too slow.

Every roll of his hips is calculated, dragging himself out so she feel his cock slipping away, then pushing back in deep, filling her up so completely it makes her walls pulsate. She can’t do anything but take it, her senses overwhelmed by him — by the rough drag of his hands on her skin, the warmth of his breath against her lips, the filthy sound of their bodies meeting.

Then his hands move, sliding up from her waist, fingers tracing over her ribs before finally cupping her breasts. It makes her gasp, her back arching into his touch as his thumbs sweep over her nipples, teasing a little, then rolling them between his fingers.

“So sensitive, look at that,” says Lando, his voice thick with lust. “Are you shaking, baby?”

She is. Her thighs tremble where they straddle him, her whole body squeezing him with every slow thrust, every lazy swipe of his thumbs against her skin.

His gaze drops between them, and his breath stutters at the image. “Beautiful.”

She doesn’t understand at first, too lost in how slowly he fucks her, but then he guides her chin down, forcing her to look.

And oh, fuck.

She can see everything: the way her body stretches to take him in, the way she’s dripping down his entire length, making a mess on his lap, and the way her thighs are trembling on each side of him.

Lando’s heart starts beating faster, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her neck. “See how you’re fucking ruining me?”

She lets out a soft, broken moan, fingers playing absentmindedly with the curls at the back of his head, mostly to anchor herself in the moment.

“Lan…”

“I know, love,” his tongue flicks against her pulse point before he kisses her jaw. “Not so mad at me now, are you?”

Right now? No. She realizes she’s not. She can’t be. Not when he’s touching her like this, fucking into her with such lazy, devastating precision. Not when he’s whispering filth into her ear while looking at her like she’s the only thing in the world that matters.

Her hands move, framing his face, tilting it up so she can kiss him again. But this time, their kiss is different. It’s not angry, not desperate, but tender and loving. A kiss that makes Lando’s grip falter, that steals the breath from his lungs and sends him to a new world that’s only inhabited by them.

She whimpers hungrily against his lips, and that’s what breaks him, because he knows he broke her first.

A guttural moan rumbles from his chest as his fingers dig into her thighs. And then he snaps. “Let me take care of you, baby,” he whispers next to her ear, thrusting into her harder. It takes her by surprise, the way he is holding her so tight like he’s trying to fuse them together. “Need you,” he adds.

The sudden change in pace fractures something in her brain to the point she can’t remember anything else except his name.

“It’s okay you’re mad,” Lando assures her. “You can be as mad as you want, yeah? All day, everyday,” he groans, voice wrecked. “I’m still gonna fuck you like this. Gonna give you exactly what you need. Whenever you need me, love.”

Her head falls back, a loud moan spilling from her lips as he loses himself in her, in the heat, the mess, and the way she clings to him.

“Always gonna take care of my girl,” he promises, sealing the words against her skin. “No matter what.”

She can feel his control slipping in the way his thrusts deepen, the rhythm faltering slightly as his breath becomes gradually uneven. He’s still trying to hold back, but she can tell he’s far from behaving. She feels his cock twitching so deliciously inside her, and the way his hands melt with her skin almost painfully on her hips. Every new sensation makes her dizzy, until it’s too much. The pressure building in her chest, the overwhelming feeling of him inside her, the way his hands start roaming over her skin, and his mouth leaving hot trails across her neck — all too much.

With a shaky breath, she collapses forward, her body unable to keep steady, falling against his chest as her hands slide weakly to his sides.

“I can’t,” she gasps, “Can’t hold myself up.”

Lando’s hands move immediately, his hold firm on her back, and voice filled with a deep urgency, “I got you, baby. You know I do.”

And then he flips them, his strength not-so-surprising as he rolls them onto the couch, her body now on her back with him above her. The new angle makes them both moan in unison, the sudden shift in depth making every movement feel sharper, more intense.

Lando’s hands find her thighs, pulling them apart so he can press deeper, pushing into her with a delicious force that makes her stomach tighten and her toes curl. The sound of their bodies slapping together fills the room — wet, sticky, perfect. Her hands reach up, gripping the back of the couch, her nails scratching at the fabric, trying to keep herself grounded as he fucks her harder.

“Fuck, baby,” Lando groans, his face flushed with sweat, his lips parted as he stares down at her, eyes wild with need. “You’re so fucking perfect, can’t get enough of you.”

She can feel him getting closer, the way his movements grow sloppier, more desperate, but there’s no slowing him down. He’s all in — in her, in the moment, and she can barely breathe under the weight of it all.

The sounds of their passion are unrestrained, loud, their breath ragged and frantic. It’s all they hear now: her moans, his grunts, the soft squeak of the couch beneath them. But as the tension starts to crack, she feels herself spiraling as closer to the edge as he is, and she finally feels the last remnants of her jealousy fade away.

She looks up at him, her vision blurry from the pleasure. “You… winked at the waiter.”

Lando freezes for just a moment, his thrusts shallow, and he looks down at her, confusion flickering in his eyes as he forces himself to regain control. “I did?” he breathes out wildly, his lips twitching with a laugh that’s barely contained.

She moans, biting her lip as she writhes under him, “Yes, when she came back with the wine,” she admits, her voice soft, barely a whisper. “It was so stupid, I wanted to throw it in your face.”

Lando finally laughs, a genuine chuckle, his face still flushed with pleasure. “Always so dramatic, aren’t you?” he asks, leaning down to kiss her lips before pulling back. “Wanted to be mad, but you’re too busy getting fucked to even care now, hm?”

She wants to argue, wants to tell him he’s being a cocky bastard, but the words get lost in the sound of her own moans as his rhythm picks up again, faster this time, his cock hitting places inside her that have her seeing stars.

“Oh,” she gasps, her voice full of the tension and the blinding pressure building in her chest, “I’m so... Fuck. I’m close.”

Lando doesn’t ease off. “I know, baby. I feel it.” He pushes her closer, his hands gripping her legs just right, his thrusts brutal and relentless. “Wanna come for me?”

She doesn’t have enough time to process his words. The wave hits her hard, crashing over her like an unstoppable force, and her body goes taut, every nerve lighting up as she cries out, her back arching off the couch as she cums around him.

And Lando isn’t far behind.

He slams into her once more, and then his head falls on her chest with a groan as he releases, the hot pulse of his cum filling her up just as her own orgasm shakes through her. Breathless, they stay like that, bodies joined, both of them tangled in the aftershocks of their release.

“Next time, don’t wink at other girls if you want to keep your eyes,” she finally says, feeling him softening inside her.

“Next time,” he whispers, still trying to catch his breath, “Don’t go non-verbal on me. You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

She smiles weakly, pressing her lips to his. “You never mean it like that, do you?”

The air between them thickens, leaving behind an almost palpable silence. Affected by her last affirmation, Lando’s hands find home on her skin, the touch light, slightly hesitant, like he’s afraid to disrupt the fragile calm that’s settled between them.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

She traces her fingers through his curls, her body feeling like a flame now, flickering gently after being ignited. There’s a warmth spreading from her chest, outwards, a comfort that soothes the storm inside her. But still, her heart races, and the lingering heat from their connection seems to hum through her veins.

Lando shifts, moving to pull her closer, his arms wrapping around her. She nestles into him, feeling the heat of his skin and the sweat against hers, the warmth of him grounding her.

“You okay?” she hears him again.

“Yeah... just needed a moment to catch my breath,” her voice is a soft murmur in his ears.

Lando smiles weakly, his lips curling with that familiar grin. He brushes a lock of hair from her face, fingers skimming her cheek like a whisper, and the gesture is enough to make her chest tighten.

“You’re everything I need, silly. Always.”

She knows that. And luckily, the storm inside her has subsided. “I’m sorry, too. For being stubborn,” she whispers, her voice full of a quiet vulnerability.

Lando chuckles, “Stubborn is an understatement.”

She lets out a breathless laugh. “Don’t push it.”

His hands, once firm and assertive, now trace delicate patterns over her skin, mapping every curve, every inch of her as though trying to imprint her into his soul. There is no need for words now, not anymore.

As Lando presses another soft kiss to her lips, she remembers why they will always be able to overcome any childish misunderstanding.

“I love you,” she says, her voice steady.

He smiles, feeling a familiar warmth spreading in his chest. And, instead of saying it back, Lando tilts his head slightly, meeting her gaze with a teasing smirk.

Then, he winks at her.

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

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2025

[prettygirl-gabi]

Special Guest

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

POV: First-person

Fandom: UConn’s Women’s Basketball

Word Count: 1,500+

Summary: we have a special guest for the podcast

Tags: @paigeshirleytemple , @unknowngirlypop , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @authentic-girl03 , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani

I adjust my mic and glance at Kayla, who’s lounging comfortably against my pillows, setting up her recording equipment.

“So, let me get this straight,” I start, tilting my head at her. “You, Kayla Williams, decided that my dorm—my bed, specifically—was the best place to record this episode?”

Kayla smirks. “You act like this isn’t the most comfortable setup ever. It’s cozy, it’s intimate, it’s giving vibes. Plus, do you really think I was about to record in one of those stiff chairs in the common room? Be so for real.”

I shake my head, laughing. “You just didn’t wanna book a studio.”

“Correct.” She grins, popping a piece of gum into her mouth. “Now, get comfy, and let’s start—”

Before she can finish, my dorm door swings open, and in walks Paige.

Scratch that—drags herself in.

She looks exhausted, still in her practice gear, her low ponytail a little frizzy from sweat, and her duffle bag barely hanging onto her shoulder. She doesn’t say anything, just lets out a deep sigh and makes a beeline for my bed.

“Uh, hey?” I say, watching as she tosses her bag to the floor, taking her ponytail out and flops onto the mattress like she’s been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Without hesitation, she burrows into me, laying her head directly on my stomach, her arms loosely wrapping around my waist.

I blink down at her. “Paige?”

She hums in response but doesn’t move.

Kayla raises an eyebrow. “Yo, is she good?”

“She had morning practice,” I explain, running a hand through Paige’s locs. “Guess it wiped her out.”

Kayla snickers. “Nah, this is crazy. She didn’t even say hi.”

I poke Paige’s shoulder. “You good, baby?”

Paige nuzzles deeper into me, sighing. “Mhm.”

“Wanna move?”

“No.”

I glance at Kayla, who’s grinning like she’s witnessing something hilarious.

“Oh, she’s whipped,” Kayla says, adjusting her mic. “You sure you still wanna record? Your girl looks real comfortable.”

I glance down at Paige, who’s already breathing slower, her body completely relaxed against mine.

“She’ll be fine,” I say, settling back into the pillows. “If she’s tired enough to fall asleep while we talk for an hour, she probably needs the rest.”

Kayla shakes her head, still smirking. “Alright, your relationship is crazy soft, but let’s get into it.”

She presses record, and just like that, we start the episode.

—

Thirty minutes in, Paige hasn’t moved an inch.

She’s completely knocked out, her breath warm against my hoodie, her arms still lazily wrapped around me. Every now and then, she shifts, sighs, or tightens her grip, but for the most part, she’s dead to the world.

Kayla, of course, is having way too much fun with this.

“Okay, so what I’m gathering,” she says, pointing at Paige’s sleeping form, “is that you got this superstar, face-of-UConn-basketball, Paige Bueckers, so down bad that she literally needs to be on you to function properly?”

I roll my eyes. “She’s just tired.”

Kayla gives me a look. “Nah, see, I’ve known Paige for a while, and I ain’t never seen her like this with anyone else.”

I fight a smile, absentmindedly running my fingers through Paige’s hair. “She likes being close to me. Is that a crime?”

Kayla grins. “Not at all. It’s just hilarious how you try to act all nonchalant about it.” She leans toward the mic dramatically. “Y’all, let it be known that Paige Bueckers is a clingy girlfriend. Possibly the clingiest.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “She’s not that clingy.”

Kayla gestures at Paige. “Bro. She fell asleep on you mid-podcast. You might as well get her a ‘Property of Y/N’ shirt at this point.”

I bite my lip to keep from laughing. “She does have a hoodie that says ‘Y/N’s Favorite.’”

Kayla howls. “Oh, nah! That’s crazy. Ain’t no way.”

I nod, grinning. “Got it for her last Valentine’s Day.”

Kayla wipes a fake tear. “This is beautiful. True love.”

I shake my head, still smiling as we move on to the next topic.

—

By the time we wrap up the episode, Paige is still dead asleep.

Kayla stretches, cracking her knuckles. “Alright, that’s a wrap. Great episode, and we got bonus content of you being the human equivalent of a teddy bear.”

I snort. “Glad I could provide entertainment.”

Kayla stands, gathering her stuff. “I gotta bounce, but good luck getting your girl off you.” She nudges Paige’s leg. “Yo, Bueckers, you alive?”

Paige groans, barely lifting her head. “Barely.”

Kayla smirks. “Your girl’s free now. You gonna let her move?”

Paige ignores her, instead snuggling back into me, her voice muffled against my hoodie. “No.”

Kayla cackles. “Yeah, I’m outta here.”

She gives me a knowing look before heading for the door. “Text me when you finally escape.”

I roll my eyes. “Bye, Kayla.”

Once she’s gone, I glance down at Paige, brushing a few stray locs out of her face. “You good, sleepyhead?”

Paige hums. “Better now.”

I smile. “You slept through my whole podcast, you know.”

She grins sleepily, eyes still closed. “Best nap I’ve ever had.”

I sigh, shaking my head. “You’re so spoiled.”

She finally cracks one eye open, looking up at me with that soft, lazy smile of hers. “By you? Absolutely.”

I can’t even argue with that. Instead, I kiss her forehead, letting her sink back into me.

She’s gonna be wide awake later, and I should make her get up soon.

But for now?

I let her stay exactly where she is.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[theemporium]

lukey getting his girlfriend a promise ring but most definitely forgets to tell his brothers so when she pulls up to the lake house with a ring on her ring finger they’re jumping to conclusions?

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“Did you know?” 

Quinn blinked, frowning at the way Jack pushed into his room and quickly shut the door behind him before spinning back around to glare at him. He was almost tempted to tease him over his odd behaviour before he noticed the genuine hurt and panic in his brother’s gaze.

“Know what?” Quinn asked. 

“That Luke is fucking engaged,” Jack hissed out, muscles in his jaw twitching at the pressure of his teeth gritting together. “Why the fuck did he not say anything? Why the fuck did you not say anything? I literally live with him, how the hell did he not tell me anything?” 

Quinn blinked. “What the hell are you talking about? Luke is not engaged.” 

“My mistake, the huge fucking ring on his girlfriend’s left ring finger gave me the wrong impression,” Jack snapped back, pissed off and upset and feeling a little overwhelmed at the thought of his younger brother—his baby brother—being engaged when he barely knows how to work a damn washing machine.

Quinn choked out a surprised noise. “The what?”

“The fucker got engaged and didn’t even tell us,” Jack hissed, beginning to pace around the room. “Oh god, Mom is gonna kill him. Mom is gonna kill us.”

Quinn frowned. “Why did he not tell us he was even thinking about proposing?” 

Jack huffed. “When the fuck did he even get engaged?” 

Quinn shot his brother a blank look. “They just came back from a weekend away. Take a fucking guess.” 

Jack’s nose scrunched up. “In Ohio. Who the fuck gets engaged in Ohio?”

Quinn let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair as he quickly stood up from his spot on the bed. “We need to talk to him.”

“What the fuck do we say?” Jack questioned, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. "Congratulations?"

“What else can we say?” Quinn retorted, shaking his head. “That we love and support him but what the fuck is he thinking getting engaged and not telling anybody?” 

Jack shrugged. “Sounds good to me.” 

Quinn rolled his eyes. “Jack, you can’t say shit like that.”

“Can’t say shit like what?” 

Both boys snapped their heads around to find Luke standing in the doorway, a stick of beef jerky in his hand that he was currently munching on as he looked between the two of them with an odd expression. 

“What? What did I miss?” Luke frowned. 

Despite the initial hurt and anger he felt minutes ago, Jack couldn’t stop himself from darting forward and dragging his little brother into a hug. “You’re a dick for not saying anything to us but I am happy for you, even if I think you’re a little young. We love and support you no matter what, bud.”

Luke’s arms awkwardly hung by his side before he slowly patted Jack’s back. “Thanks?” 

Quinn looked a little more pensive, a softer expression on his face. “You could have told us, you know? We would have helped you pick out a ring or whatever else you needed.” 

“Oh,” Luke’s eyes widened a little before he shrugged. “It was no biggie, Bratter knew a few good places around Jersey so I was able to get it before we left after playoffs. I didn’t think either of you would really care.” 

Jack quickly stepped back, the anger suddenly back and rearing. “Woah, hold the fuck up, Bratter knew you were getting engaged before me? Your brother? What the fuck?” 

“Engaged?” Luke repeated with a look of confusion. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“You’re engaged!” Jack insisted, his eyes narrowed in a glare. “I saw the ring!”

Luke blinked before snorting. “It’s a promise ring, dumbass.”

Quinn sighed.

“Oh,” was all Jack managed to get out. 

“I mean, I love her but like,” Luke shrugged, suddenly looking young and sheepish. “That is a big step, you know? But I’m serious about her. I wanted her to know that too.” 

“Right,” Quinn sighed again, pressing his fingertips to his temples before smiling a little. “We are happy for you. Both of you. She’s good for you.”

Luke smiled a little.

Jack nodded. “And that is one hell of a promise ring, bud.”

Luke groaned, rolling his eyes as he already began to turn to leave the room.

But Jack continued. “I mean, not that it would hurt your bank account since I buy you everything—”

“That’s what big brothers are for!”

.

[sapphosclosefriend]

~ Nerd! Nat Headcanons pt 3 ~

This is 18+ content. Minors DNI!

Part 1 | Part 2

@esposadejoyhuerta here you go girl

SFW

Nerd!Nat who is incredibly excited when you go on a small vacation for your first anniversary. You surprise her with a small (a little run down) van you rented and spend a couple of days driving around beautiful places together. It's not much but it's what she's always talked about wanting to do.

Nerd! Nat who acts like she's taking pictures of the beautiful view but secretly always includes you in them. She ends up gathering all the photos she's taken of you and of the two of you together to make a little album of the memories of your first anniversary and gifts it to you.

Nerd! Nat who hugs you while lying between your legs on a blanket in a small field and falls asleep as soon as you start running your fingers through her hair. You can't help but lovingly look at her peacefully sleeping and chuckle when she wakes up, notices your eyes on her and buries her face on your front embarrassed.

Nerd! Nat who blushes like a tomato each and every time she catches you staring at her with an enamored look in your eyes, no matter how long you've been together, she'll just never get used to it.

Nerd! Nat who studies at the small desk next to her bed, turns her head and once again finds you looking at her like she's the most beautiful piece of art while lying on your stomach on her bed.

Nerd! Nat who suddenly gets bold enough to get up and walk over to the bed to stroke your cheek before holding you in place with a finger under your chin to kiss you tenderly, making you fully melt for her.

Nerd! Nat who (surprising herself) starts to get used if not happy to show pda with you and not only loves it when you initiate it, but starts doing it herself as well.

Nerd! Nat who now loves it even more when you're out with your friends and you wrap your arm around her waist or you hug her from the side.

Nerd! Nat who is anything but sporty (she's just a tall, thin little one) but still insists on accompanying you on your walks, feeling uneasy knowing you're out on your own. At the end it's a mutual benefit since you get to see her in grey sweatpants and she gets to savor you in leggings and sometimes a tank top or even a sports bra (poor Natty always ends up so flustered).

NSFW

Nerd! Nat who cums so hard when you jerk her off under the blanket while you're supposed to be watching TV together.

Nerd! Nat who immediately starts to get hard once again while you keep pumping your hand to get every last bit of cum out of her. The way you murmur in her ear, praising her for how good she was for you does nothing but worsen the problem.

Nerd! Nat who secretly loves it when you masturbate each other so she insists on “repaying you” and casually fingers you so insanely good, to the point where you shock yourself a little with the sounds she gets out of you and the way she leaves you shaking and limp after 2 orgasms.

Nerd! Nat who looks at you with big doe eyes and asks you if she did well, making you chuckle breathlessly. You realize she's so insecure she needs you to physically reassure her that she couldn't be any better before grabbing her hand to suck her fingers clean just to mess with her.

Nerd! Nat who's always loved to fuck you doggystyle but hates that she can't see your pretty face, so you start doing it facing the mirror in the room and surprise yourselves with how hot you find it to look at each other's reflection.

Nerd! Nat who, while you're on all fours, makes you feel so good you physically can't hold yourself up anymore, so you let your front fall basically face down on the bed.

Nerd! Nat who doesn't even think about it when she grips your hair to lift your head and only wants to be able to see your face again, making you moan so loud and tighten even more around her at her unexpected action.

Nerd! Nat who desperately begs you with a pout to cum for her. She always wants to wait for you to cum first because in her words “she wants to make sure you feel all the pleasure you deserve”, and seeing you orgasm makes her cum even harder inside of you.

.

.

.

Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox @fawnedolly

[wandasvamp]

care

— pairing | natasha x reader

— synopsis | nat helps you relax after a stressful day

— warnings | smut, top!nat, bottom!reader, shower sex, mommy kink, fingering, praising and degradation, aftercare, fluff (18+)

— word count | 1.1k

You were currently taking a shower after having a rough day at work; it’s like the universe decided to make your life hell today. You arrived late at work, your boss decided to be a bitch and the deadline for an important project is in two days. The hot water running down your body makes your sore muscles relax and you sigh in relief.

You jump when you feel two hands squeezing your waist and a chin on your shoulder; at least you think it is. You smile recognizing the perfume you gave to her on your anniversary, it’s your favorite and she knows it.

“Hi, my love.” She whispered in your ear and kissed that specific spot on your neck, making you swallow down a whine. “Baby, come on. You know that’s my weak spot and how I get when you kiss it.” You mumble while closing your eyes, tilting your head while Nat continues kissing your neck all the way down to your shoulder.

“I know honey, I know. That’s why I'm kissing it.” She laughs. “I can see how stressed and tense you are, baby. Let me take care of you, make you feel good.” She runs her hands across your stomach, going up to your boobs, squeezing them and pinching your nipples. You try to hold a moan in but fail miserably, feeling embarrassed by how fast you got aroused just by her touch. “Let it all out princess. I want to hear every sound that comes out of that pretty little mouth.” You can feel her signature smirk on your neck and a moan slips out. “That's my good girl.” She rasps and you are pretty sure you could cum just by her praises.

Her fingers start to rub circles on your clit while the other teases your hole. “Honey, please… I need you so bad, don’t tease.” She sucks your skin and then slams two fingers inside you, making you release a loud moan. “Aww, does my little slut like that?” She mocks and you nod. “Use your words.” You whimper, loving the roughness.”I love it, mommy. Fuck, I love when you´re inside me, filling me up, making me feel good.” You blurt out while she pumps her fingers in and out fast, still rubbing tight circles on your clit with the other hand.

You are a moaning mess and you know Nat´s ego is through the roof right now, she knows that only her can make you feel like that; only she has that effect on you; you´re hers to ruin.

She curls her fingers, hitting that spongy spot that drives you insane. “I want you to beg for it, baby.” She whispers in your ear and bites your earlobe. She can definitely feel you clenching around her and she knows you´re close. “I can feel you squeezing me, whore. Do you want to cum? Do you want to soak mommy's fingers?” She pushes your face on the tile in front of you, gripping your hair to steady herself.

“Yes! Yes mommy, please. I want to cum for you, please!” She slides her fourth finger in, making sure to stretch you out. You were too lost in the moment that you didn’t notice that she had turned you around to face her until she spoke. “Hold it. Fuck baby, you’re so beautiful, and all mine.” She mumbles around your nipple before starting to suck on it, making you throw your head back with all the pleasure running through your veins.

“All yours mommy, only yours.” You pant and pull her face closer to yours. “Please make me cum, mommy. I want to make a mess for you. Fuck your slut’s pussy.” She grunts and somehow she picks up her pace and goes faster than before. The water is still running but the only thing you can hear is how wet you are, and the low moans that Nat is letting out with every noise you make.

She slams her lips on yours and you wrap your arms around her neck. Moaning in each other’s mouths, Nat whispers. “Cum for me, baby. I know you want to. Be mommy’s good girl and make a mess on my fingers.” That’s all it took for you to climax; you didn’t even notice the tight grip you had on Nat’s neck, accidentally scratching it. She didn’t seem to mind that as she kept the same pace. You were confused and feeling a little overstimulated already.

“N-Nat, what are you doing?” You ask between breaths and then you see it, her damn smirk. “You know that’s not my name, sweetheart. Mommy wants to make you squirt today. You won’t be able to walk anyway so let’s enjoy it while we can, right?” She whispers against your lips, squeezing your throat to make it harder to breathe but not enough to completely cut your air supply. “F-Fuck mommy, ‘s too much.” Your knees are weak, you’re almost falling but Nat holds you up.

“You can go one more time, honey. You have taken more than this before and we both know you like it.” With one more thrust and squeeze of your neck, you fall apart all over her hand. She kisses your cheek and whispers praises while she lets you ride out your high. She patiently waits for you to calm down to slowly remove her fingers from you. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” She asks while gently washing your body, cleaning you up. “I’m more than okay. I’m perfect.” You giggle and she can’t help but smile after seeing the smile on your face.

She picks you up, leading you out of the shower to sit you on the counter. “I’m gonna dry you up okay?” You nod while closing your eyes, the exhaustion hitting you like a truck. When you open your eyes again, Nat has already dressed you both up; you go closer to her and nuzzle into her chest while she brushes her hair. “We are going to bed soon, love. Just finishing this up okay?” She whispers and you nod again, feeling her warmth.

She picks you up again and you cling to her as much as possible. “Let’s go to sleep, baby koala. You need all the rest you can get.” She says while laying down on the bed, pulling you with her. She pulls the blankets up and tucks it around you both. She lays your head on your chest while she plays with your hair. “Good night, baby girl. I love you so much. You are my everything.” She kisses the top of your head and smiles. She knew you were already asleep, but she couldn’t help it; she was more than grateful to have you, to be loved by you. It was her privilege and she will forever cherish it.

[00valentina-writes00]

Calling Ambessa mommy?

I feel like my page is turning into a mommy kink page (I’m not complaining!)

♡♥︎Obedience♥︎♡

Warnings: Ambessa being Ambessa, mommy kink, spanking!

Ambessa towers over you, her broad, muscled frame casting a shadow as she presses you against the silk sheets. You’re already flushed, bare skin prickling with anticipation, legs trembling as you brace yourself against the bed’s edge.

Her palm skims down your back, deliberate, lingering over the curve of your ass before squeezing possessively. “You’re always so eager for me,” she muses, voice thick with amusement. “Such a desperate little thing.”

You shudder, the deep rumble of her voice settling hot in your core. The thick head of her strap teases between your slick folds, rubbing slow, torturous circles against your clit. It’s warm—heated by her body, smooth and unyielding. She hasn’t even pushed in yet, and you’re already keening.

“Please—”

Smack.

The sharp sting of her palm against your ass makes you gasp, pleasure flaring up your spine. “That’s not how you address me.”

Your fingers clutch the sheets, breath shuddering. “Mommy—” you whimper.

Ambessa hums, pleased. “Good girl.”

With a firm roll of her hips, she sinks the strap into you, stretching you open in a single, devastating thrust. Your back arches, a broken moan spilling from your lips as she bottoms out.

“Fuck, look at you,” she purrs, running a heavy hand up your spine, pressing between your shoulder blades, forcing you deeper into the mattress. “So wet for me already.”

She pulls back just enough to snap her hips forward, knocking the air from your lungs. Her pace is brutal, calculated. Each thrust lands deep, her heavy frame keeping you exactly where she wants you—helpless and stuffed full.

“Mommy—oh, fuck—”

Her hand knots in your hair, yanking your head back just enough to whisper against your ear. “You can take it.” Another sharp slap lands against your ass, the sting melting into a rush of heat. “You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to take me like a good little wife.”

You’re babbling, nodding, meeting every thrust with weak, needy rolls of your hips. The sound of wet skin meeting skin fills the room, your slick dripping down your thighs as Ambessa keeps you right on the edge, teasing, denying—until she decides you’re allowed to fall apart.

Her fingers slip between your legs, rubbing messy circles against your swollen clit. “Cum for me,” she orders, voice dark, commanding. “Make a mess.”

And you do. Your entire body locks up, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your vision whites out as you convulse around her strap, gushing onto her, onto the sheets, soaking everything beneath you.

Ambessa groans, watching the way you tremble, the way you shudder through it, completely spent. She soothes a hand down your back, pulling out slow, admiring the wrecked state she’s left you in.

“Perfect,” she murmurs. “And mine.”

[vicsstufff]

UNDER THE WOODS — princess!p. bueckers x cinderella!reader

۶ৎ - summary: the mistreatments are way to normalize in your household. after the dead of your father, your new step-mother and her daughters new mission is to make your life miserable, serving them as a maid, until you met her, in the middle of the forest.

۶ৎ - wc: 3,045

۶ৎ - warnings/content: abusive behavior, submissive reader, mentions of death of both parents, not 100% accurate to the movie.

authors note | ONE SHOT! happy valentine’s day!! 💗 can u consider this as a valentine’s special? any grammatical errors will be edit after!! (im to lazy) this idea came from me literally watching the cinderella movie (the live action version) im in love with the dress. enjoy!

im back! where are my beautiful ladies?” a silent scream, lingered its way through the walls of the extended house until it reach your ears. your head meeting the direction of the voice, a small sound came out your lips before losing the grip that you had on your tea party set up. running down the corridors, finding the main door that lead to the outside.

the sound of the horses coming filled the garden, your dad, step down from the carriage that held him safely during one of his many trips. you really loved your dad, but not his job—a businessman— he rarely was home, but the hole made because of his absence was quickly filled by the warming love your mother brought. a wonderful woman, a very beautiful one too, she will sing to you every night, lullabying the sleep into you, making your eyelids heavy.

“my wonderful daughter..” your father let out in awe, contemplating your small figure. you jumped into his arms, surrounding yours around his neck. “i brought you something special.” he whispered in your ear, lowering you to take a seat on the edge of a fuantain, his hand grabbed a nearby suitcase, clicking a few locks before it jumped open. he pulled from the inside a small box, placing it on the center of your hands, he pushed a button on the side and it open abruptly, letting out a blue butterfly. “oh..it’s beautiful.” you said low, a smile coming up.

“will you like to dance with me ma’dam?” he said softly, lowering himself to your level, offering his hand, “of course, gentleman.” you spoke in a fail attempt to mock a seductive tone. your hand meet his rough hands, tired from all the work he endured. helping you up, instinctively, you lifted your feet, stepping on your fathers, he let out a series of high groans and ‘ouch’s’ but stilled grip gently your small hand and stared spinning, not strong enough to knock you off your feet but it still made the air move your hair gracefully, giggles scaped from the bottom of your heart.

happiness doesn’t last long.

you wished it did.

a few years had passed and your mother fell sick, her once bright eyes filled with joy and love, were now replaced with a dark glance, her skin was dry and in some occasions, the cold sweat will linger in her forehead. her cold touch brought goosebumps in your skin, she didn’t lulled you to sleep anymore.

the day her heavy eyelids came to their final rest, it felt empty like if the spirit of the house, yours and your father, had disappeared, all of the once happy memories died with her too.

she gave you all her old dresses, shoes and books, she insisted that you should be a intelligent woman that doesn’t depend on her future husband, the last part made your heart drop, you weren’t that interested in getting a husband any time soon, but if you don’t marry someone quickly, your father might even a arrange one for you. the thought of spending your days washing clothes, cooking, cleaning, satisfying your husband and having children haunted you at night, when your bed suddenly felt a little bit to cold even when the spring brought joy to the flowers and practically all the nature, even humans, or maybe not.

the second time a part of your soul died, it was when your father confirmed your worst fears.

he was going to marry a new woman.

you couldn’t do anything to really avoid the disaster that was perfectly planned to happen.

the carriage arrive sooner than imagined, from your window you could hear it from the distance, losing your mind observing the deeps of the forest and the nearby town. you lazily grabbed your shoes and placed them annoyingly, passing your hands through the dress in a attempt to soothe it.

your father was already outside the door when you finally made yourself get there, a bright smile smoothed the corners of mis smile line, its been years since you have seen that smile. he looked at you with hoped, with a clear ambition to start a new life, without any other choice, you smile softly at him as well. “couldn’t you make yourself more presentable? use one of the dress i brought you?” he whispered as the gates opened, ready to welcome their new members, you let out a small sigh but the smile on your face didn’t disappear.

when the carriage stopped it’s journey in front of you and your dad, he jogged quickly just enough for the carriage’s door opened abruptly, giggles came out the door and bright dresses ame from the dark, anastasia was the first one to make their presence known. your father extended his hand in order to help anastasia step from the carriage, once she stepped on the ground, she started overworking her fan as if the hot weather was attempting against her life. the second one was drizella, her exaggerated hair almost made contact with the top of the carriage and high heels making her trip, she wiggled her way over to anastasia who analyzed your house. “you should stile your hair” drizella remarked, your hair was styled messily in a bun. “your house is so… vintage.” anastasia added. “how was your trip?” you asked before they could make another smirky comment. “what did she say?” anastasia whispered—not low enough because you could still hear her. “i think she is asking us about our travel.” drizella explained like if you were speaking in a another language. “it was, um, exquisite.” anastasia replied awkwardly.

it seem like everyone stopped their tracks once the faint sound of a dress and heels made their way into the conversation. the last one was lady tremaine, a mysterious and wealthy woman. she meet your father during one of his long trips, promising her hand in marriage once she moved with him.

without giving you a glance, she maid her way through the house doors, and scanned the main entrance. anastasia and drizella were quickly to follow her and whisper things to her, definitely about your house. you entered the house along with your dad, that’s when she finally took check you out. her penetrating eyes noticing every single flaw in you. “how about you give the girls a tour around the house.” your father spoke as anastasia and drizella chuckled in amusement making their way up the stairs.

“your daughter is beautiful.” lady tremaine mumbled as you and your new sisters disappeared into some rooms. “oh, yes. she took it from her—“ your father stopped mid-sentence once he saw lady’s tremaine prolonged eye contact and her teasing smirk.

later that night, a inimaginable party was celebrated in your fathers and lady’s tramaine engagement, the wine and whiskey made you feel intoxicated just from the smell, your lungs burned as the smoke of the cigarettes lingered as if it was pure air. both of your ‘innocent’ sisters doll themselves up, amused man surrounding them while they took their sweet time chatting only with those that have money. your father was also talking to his friends, although you only recognized one, a really old friend of his, edward, he is your father’s assistant during his travels. talking about travels, in a few days he had been assigned one, after that, the wedding will happen.

“bring me a nice, shiny necklace!” “i want a big, outstanding dress!” “oh! and a tight corset!” anastasia and drizella demanded loudly as they—surprisingly took turns to talk about their needs. “what do you want, my love?” your father asked as his head turned towards you, grabbing his suitcases and throwing them into the back of the carriage. “just you coming back safely.” you quietly said while grabbing his hand, not wanting to let go. edward started to move the carriage with the help of the horses but you didn’t take your hand away from his, following desperately as the carriage made its way outside the house property, when you couldn’t catch up anymore, you staid still, observing the carriage that disappeared.

a knock could be heard, you weren’t expecting any visits. as the knocking continued, drizella called your name “get the door!” she yelled. as when you got to the door, edward was standing there, soaking wet because of the latest rains happening, the carriage behind him, as well as your fathers belongings. “edward? where is my father?” you quickly questioned the poor man who gripped his hat tightly, he just shook his head, letting fall some tears that had pilled up, he will break in a million pieces if he spoke a word.

realization hit you like a brick, suddenly the air had aggressively pushed one both doors, your breath sharp and fast and your lip started quivering, your knees weakening making you fall in front of edward who’s tears where know fully released and came out like a endless loop. “that means he didn’t bring me my dress?” anastasia growled as her other sister and mother soaked in the news. “anastasia! shut that mouth of yours!” lady tremaine spoke up, for the first time in weeks finally doing something that wasn’t against you. “can’t you see? we are ruined!” she snapped, lady tramaine turn around and stormed off to her room, shutting the door loudly.

the hard sound of heels crashing with the weak wooden floor woke you up abruptly, your neck jointed with a sharp pain spreading towards your lower back, your view was blurred as you remember last nights activities—you had fallen asleep in front of the chimney seeking for any warm that your room didn’t offer you. the new room was practically the old attic, the last room of the house and scariest, drizella and anastasia took your room because theirs was too small and lady tramaine had the guts to replace the room of your beloved mother.

“where is this girl?” lady tramaine groaned as she took a seek for you while waiting for her daughters to come and eat breakfast. “i thought breakfast was ready.” she sneered as you walked with chalks of wood. “it is ma’am. i’m only mending the fire.” you replied while inspecting the fire as it refuse to corporate.

anastasia and drizella finally took their seat in the dinning room, waiting impatiently for the food, tapping their nails against the table, as if it were a clock, counting second by second. “what’s that on your face?” lady tramaine asked as she observed obviously your face as you walked in with trays filled with food, your puzzled face became clear as you didn’t know what she was talking about, placing the food as you looked at the three ladies sitting in front of you. “it’s ash from the fireplace.” anastasia was quick to clear any questions. “clean yourself up.” lady tramaine said, avoiding any eye contact with you. “you’ll get cinders in our tea!” drizella snorted grabbing a cup of tea and stared deeply into it, you grabbed a nearby piece of destroyed fabric, bringing it and cleaning up aggressively your face with it.

“oh, girls leave your sister alone.” lady tramaine cheered as her wicked smile came back into its place as you keep walking in and out with plates, glasses and even more food. it was difficult to organize everything by yourself because lady tramaine had dismissed the household. her glance dartered around the table until it stopped in your plate. “who’s this plate for?” she inquired as she pointed out the plate placed on the spot giving to you on the dining table.”is there someone we’ve forgotten?” she asked faking innocence, she knew deep down that it was your plate. “it’s my place.” you added with a soft smile. “it seems so much to expect you to prepare breakfast, serve it and still sit with us.” she explained rapidly, taking a small breath before continuing. “wouldn’t like to eat when all the work is done?” she inquired pushing slightly your plate away towards you.

you were left speechless as the three ladies looked at you teasingly, a desire to run away kicked in. your shaking hands grabbed clumsily your cutlery and walked away as the loud, rotten sound of lady’s tramaine laugh tormented you as you stormed off to the kitchen.

the tears blurred your vision as you placed weakly the glass plate on the table, a wrong movement slipped the plate from the table crashing down into the floor, an unpleasant sound coming from the crash, to see the disaster you caused made you cry even more. sobbing, you kneeled into the disaster and started picking it up.

the pot where you prepared the tea reflected your heart breaking image, your face swallowed because of the endless tears, still covered by ash. it seemed like your stepmother and stepsisters had indeed transformed you into a merely a creature of ash and oil, a desperate groan escaped your shaky lip.

the horses speed quicken as the path was clear enough. you had grabbed a horse and stormed off to the forest to ride a bit, to distract yourself from they’re horrid coments.

as you deepen yourself more, a reindeer came out of nowhere, taking you and your horse by surprise. the horse jumped in horror as your grip into it not wanting to fall. “whoa, whoa, whoa!” you gasped, the reindeer only dedicated himself to look at you, the moment was interrupted as distant horns and shouts approached your area. “run!” you mouthed to the reindeer, how crazy you were to think that it will listen to you? “or they’ll catch you!” you uttered in desperation as the voices became more and more clear.

once the reindeer finally took note of your desperate attempts to help him, he stroked off but your horse had another plan, storming off with the reindeer too, as if they were playing a cat and mouse game, the sudden change of speed made a ear—piercing scream come out your sore throat.

paige separated herself from the group of guards fallowing the reindeer, when se heard a desperate voice coming from the deeps of the forest, a beautiful one.

“easy, boy!” you groaned noisily, not knowing how to calm the beast. “come on, slow down!” you desperately cried. paige squinted her yes focusing on the quickened animal. “miss!” she screamed, directing her horse towards the scene.

“i’m alright! thank you!” you screamed back but she matched your rhythm, calming down your horse for you, as the horse slowed down she questioned you. “are you alright?” “i’m alright.” you blurted out. “but you’ve nearly frightened the life out of him.” you protested making your horse jogg in cirlcles, the blonde girl mocking your steps. “who?” she asked. “the reindeer! what’s he ever done to you?” you yell out of air, the girl peeking a smile “i must confess i’ve never met him before.” the blonde girl giggled “he is a friend of yours?” she continued, both of your horses mirroring the actions of one another. “by accident, we met just now.” you stated, visibly relieved and now calmed after the scary incident.

“i looked into his eyes and he looked into mine, and i just felt he had so much to do with his life.” you explained getting closer to the fancy-dressed girl “that’s all.” you finished. “miss, what do they call you?” she questioned as soon as you ended speaking. “don’t bother.” you muttered rapidly. “you shouldn’t be this deep in the forest, alone.” she remarked as her she’s wondered into the distance, endless trees and animals. “i’m not alone. i’m with you…” you chuckle. “now, what do they call you?” it was now your time to question, she giggled at your words. “you don’t know who i am?” she said while raising her eyebrows in surprise. “they call ‘p’, well, my father does when he is in a good mood.” she replied as you both laughed. “and… where do you live, miss p?” you asked. “at the palace.” she quickly said. “my father’s teaching me his tricks.” she added. “you’re an apprentice?” you said amused. “you can say that.” she said nodding. “that good.” you opined. “do they treat you well?” you mentioned as your horses speed started lacking but you didn’t bother to notice. “better then i deserve.” she responded as both of your horses stopped, almost closing the distance between you both. “and you?” she inquired. “they treat as they can.” you blurted out, avoiding making eye contact. “i’m sorry.” she whispered seeing your facial expressions go down as your mood changed. “it’s not your fault.” you clarified quickly. “not yours either.” she answered softly. “it’s not that bad.” you said, a small smile creeping through your lips. “others have it worse. we simply must have courage and be kind.” you seconded. “yeah, you are right.” she replied as a laugh came out following the words her mouth let out, you both chuckle. “that’s exactly how i feel.” she explained.

before you could respond again, a long horn interrupted the conversation, your head turned to the direction of the horn fallowed by shouting. “please don’t let them hurt him.” you pleaded. “but were hunting, you see. it’s what’s done.” she said not caring about your pleas of desperation. “just because it’s what’s done doesn’t mean it’s what should be done!” you contradicted. “right, again.” the girl acknowledged. “that means you will leave him alone?” you questioned. “i will.” she assured. “thank you very much, miss p.” you said.

“ah! there your are your high—“ the captain suddenly appeared and was quickly interrupted. “it’s p! p!” she exclaimed quickly. “i’m on my way!” she said irritated. “well, we better get going” the captain desperately said. “miss p..” he finished teasingly. “i repeat myself… im on my way!” she argued her horse buckled and jogged away taking a few glances towards you, then she stopped. “i hope to see you again, miss.” she hinted, her blue eyes not moving away from yours. “me too.” you said, a comforting smile lightened up her face her horse finally catching up with the rest of the group, jogging away.

[just-aake]

Endearing Entanglements Part 2

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Part 2 of Endearing Entanglements. Being on the run is tough. Natasha eventually has no choice but to call for some help.

Warnings: fluff, light angst, implied sexual themes

Words: 3430

The night air is cool against Natasha’s skin as she stands beneath the cover of shadows near the corner of the empty street. The dim glow of a distant streetlamp barely reaches her, leaving her concealed in the darkness. 

She adjusts the hood of her jacket, the recently cut strands of her dyed blonde hair swaying slightly as she turns her head, scanning her surroundings with caution.

Being on the run has been brutal—physically, mentally, and emotionally. 

Especially after the Raft prison break, forcing her into a constant state of movement with no real moment of rest. 

Supplies are limited, safe havens even more so. 

Every day is a delicate game of survival, narrowly avoiding authorities, slipping past Ross’ men, and making sure those with her remain out of harm’s way.

Keeping her teammates safe is one thing.

Keeping those who willingly choose to help her is another.

Mason has already paid the price for his involvement, detained for his so-called “assistance” to her. Though he had managed to get released, Ross’s watchful eye was now firmly planted on him. 

That alone is enough reason for Natasha to hesitate before reaching out to any of her remaining contacts. 

The risk was simply too high.

But desperate times call for desperate measures.

The sudden, sharp sound of shattering glass cut through the quiet night, instantly snapping Natasha’s attention upward. 

Her muscles tense, her hand instinctively hovering near her concealed weapon as her eyes lock onto the source. 

From the fourth-story window of the old brick building across the street, a shadowed figure propels through the new opening and into the air, twisting mid-fall with practiced precision. 

In one fluid motion, they fire a grappling line, the cable anchoring into the adjacent wall, allowing them to swing effortlessly into a controlled descent. 

At just the right moment, they release the line, landing with a smooth roll before rising swiftly to their feet.

Flashbangs detonate inside the building behind them, the brief bursts of light flickering against the windows, followed by the frantic shouts of those left scrambling inside.

Natasha’s gaze drifts from the chaos back to the figure standing just a short distance ahead.

A low hum of satisfaction escapes you as you casually brush the dust from your clothes, barely fazed by the intensity of your escape. 

You take a quick glance around before your gaze finally meets hers.

A grin, wide and utterly unapologetic, spread across your lips.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

Without hesitation, you close the space between you, hands gently cradling her face. 

The moment your fingers brush against her skin, warmth surges through her. 

Then, without another thought, you lean in, capturing her lips in a kiss.

Natasha stiffens for just a second, caught off guard by the sudden intimacy.

But then, the tension melts from her body, her lips parting in a quiet gasp—one you eagerly take advantage of, deepening the kiss with a hunger neither of you had the luxury to indulge in for far too long.

Her hands find their way to you, fingers gripping the fabric of your jacket, pulling you in closer as if afraid to let go. 

It was grounding—this moment of familiarity in a life that had become nothing but uncertainty.

But then, as her hand brushes against your side, you suddenly break the kiss with a sharp intake of breath.

Natasha pulls back just enough to see the flicker of pain flash across your face. Her brows furrow, concern instantly replacing the haze of the moment.

“Careful, love,” you murmur with a soft chuckle, exhaling through the lingering sting. “I think I may have reopened the stitches on my landing.”

A familiar mix of exasperation and affection flickers in her expression, her fingers tightening slightly on your jacket.

“Of course you did.”

Even as she sighs, there is no mistaking the way her hold on you remains steady, unwilling to let you go just yet.

But then, a sudden movement flickers in the corner of her vision. 

In an instant, Natasha’s instincts take over. She yanks you sharply to the side, the sudden motion forcing you off balance just as her hand flies up, launching a compact taser disk at the oncoming figure. 

The moment the disk connects, an electric surge crackles through the air, the assailant convulsing before collapsing to the ground with a dull thud. 

The whole exchange happened in mere seconds.

You barely had time to register it before glancing over your shoulder at the now-unconscious attacker. 

A slow smirk tugs at your lips as you turn back to her, eyes flickering with something both teasing and admiring.

“Still exceptional as always, love,” you muse, tilting your head slightly as your fingers twirl a lock of her blonde hair between them. “Even with the new look.” 

Natasha huffs, rolling her eyes, but there is no real annoyance behind it. If anything, the ghost of a smirk threatens to tug at the corners of her mouth.

“Yeah, well,” she exhales, shaking her head as she glances down at the unconscious attacker. “That was my last one, so we need to move.”

She doesn’t wait for a response before grabbing your hand, her grip firm as she leads you down the dimly lit street.

You follow without hesitation, but as you shift your grasp, threading your fingers more securely through hers, you half-expect her to pull away.

She doesn’t.

If anything, her hold only tightens slightly, bringing a small smile to your face.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha curses under her breath, jaw tightening as she wrestles with the lock on their current safe house door. The rusted key refuses to fit properly, scraping against the metal edges of the keyhole with stubborn resistance. 

Her fingers clench around it, frustration mounting with each failed attempt.

You lean casually against the wall beside her, arms crossed, watching her struggle with a barely concealed smirk.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she mutters without looking at you, catching the amusement in your expression from the corner of her eye.

“I wouldn’t dare,” you reply smoothly, but the teasing lilt in your voice betrays you.

Natasha sighs, shaking her head. She knows you too well to believe that. 

Then, just as you part your lips, no doubt ready to make some remark about the questionable state of the safe house, she cuts you off.

“Don’t.”

The single word carries enough warning to make you chuckle lightly, though it does little to deter the glint of amusement in your eyes.

“You really should’ve contacted me sooner, love,” you say, tilting your head as you watch her struggle with the lock a moment longer. “None of my safe houses are like this.”

As if in defiance of your words, Natasha gives the door one final, forceful shove with her shoulder. The force is enough to finally unstick the warped frame, sending the door flying open—along with Natasha, who stumbles forward with a sharp inhale of surprise. 

Before she can steady herself, a firm arm wraps around her waist, catching her mid-fall. 

You pull her back upright and against you effortlessly, holding her steady from behind before letting the movement shift into something softer—a lingering embrace as you rest your chin on her shoulder.

“You don’t know how much I’ve missed your calls,” you murmur, your breath warm against the side of her head.

Your lips brush just under her ear, pressing a fleeting kiss there, light but deliberate.

Natasha exhales softly, the tension in her shoulders gradually loosening as she settles into the familiar comfort of your arms. 

For a brief moment, she allows herself to relax, to sink into the warmth of someone who knows her beyond the mission, beyond the fight.

But then, an awkward clearing of a throat shatters the moment.

Natasha stiffens instantly, instinct kicking in as she steps forward, pulling away from your embrace and pivoting toward the open doorway. 

Steve stands there, shifting slightly on his feet, a plastic bag of supplies in one hand while the other runs across the back of his neck, an awkward expression settling across his features.

“Uh…we can come back later, Nat,” he offers, tone uncertain.

Beside him, Wanda stands with her arms wrapped around herself, making no move to step forward. She isn’t as outwardly uncomfortable as Steve, but the curiosity in her eyes is evident as she glances between you and Natasha.

Before Natasha can respond, you speak first, stepping forward with your usual ease, a charming smile effortlessly finding its way onto your lips.

“That won’t be necessary,” you say smoothly, voice carrying an air of lighthearted confidence. “I’m here to help all of you, after all.”

Steve’s brows lift slightly, skepticism flickering behind his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, but you can practically hear the unsaid questions forming in his mind. Wanda’s lips twitch ever so slightly as if amused by the boldness of your declaration, though she keeps whatever she’s thinking to herself.

Still, their silence tells you what you already know: they aren’t entirely convinced.

But that’s never stopped you before.

Your smile doesn’t falter as you turn to Natasha, giving her a quick wink before adding, “We can start with moving you all someplace a little more…comfortable.”

The words hang in the air for a moment before Natasha sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose briefly before giving you a look that’s equal parts exasperation and reluctant amusement.

“Alright, let’s go to one of yours.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

You gesture towards different parts of the new safe house, your voice calm and efficient as you lead them through the space.

“Bedrooms are over here, each with their own bathrooms,” you say, motioning toward the respective areas before stopping at the center of the modest yet well-kept living space. 

Three neatly packed duffel bags sit on the coffee table, their contents carefully prepared. 

“And these,” you continue, patting the bags lightly, “are some fresh clothes for each of you. Your new IDs are inside.”

Natasha scans the safe house, her sharp gaze taking in every detail. She isn’t surprised at the level of quality—it’s exactly what she expects from you.

Secure, quick, and discreet. 

You never do anything halfway.

A sharp vibration cuts through the air, the muffled sound of a phone ringing.

Casually, you pull it from your pocket, giving the screen a brief glance before pressing a button to silence it.

Without another thought, you slip it back into your pocket as if the call never happened.

Natasha’s brows knit slightly, her attention lingering on you. 

You don’t leave clients waiting. Efficiency is what you pride yourself on. Quick responses and seamless transactions. 

Ignoring a call? That’s unlike you.

Before she can question it, Wanda speaks up, drawing your attention.

“Is there hot water?” she asks, curiosity evident in her tone at the severely missed luxury since being on the run.

You turn to her with an easy smile. 

“Sure is, love.”

Natasha’s brow twitches almost imperceptibly. The term of endearment directed at Wanda doesn’t go unnoticed, and though she keeps her expression neutral, her eyes flick toward you, subtly watching your interaction with the other Avenger.

You hand Wanda her duffel, and as if sensing Natasha’s gaze, you turn and meet her eyes. 

A knowing glint flickers in your expression as you offer her a small smile.

Wanda, oblivious to the silent exchange, nods in thanks before disappearing into one of the bedrooms.

Meanwhile, you step over to the far side of the room, pull out a black case, and place it on the table.

“Now for my favorite part,” you say with a smirk, unlocking the case and turning it toward Natasha. “Your equipment.”

Seeing her usual, neatly arranged weapons draws a faint smirk to Natasha’s lips. She steps forward, fingers brushing over the familiar weight of her batons, trusty firearms, and multiple taser disks.

“You always know what I like,” she murmurs, amusement lacing her tone.

“Of course,” you reply with a wink before shifting your attention to Steve, who has been sifting through his duffel with quiet curiosity.

“I’m afraid a Vibranium shield might be a little harder to come by,” you muse, watching as he inspects the items inside. “But I’m sure I can get a new protective suit for you—something more subtle for fights while on the run, Captain.”

Steve glances up, nodding slightly. “Appreciate it.”

You clap your hands together, pulling a measuring tape from your pocket with a flourish. 

“I’ll just need your measurements, love.”

Natasha’s lips twitch downward slightly, the term now directed at Steve. As you approach Steve, she catches you throwing a quick glance her way as if watching for a reaction.

Attempting to hide her expression, Natasha averts her gaze, making herself look busy as she checks over the equipment in the case.

Steve shifts awkwardly as you begin taking his measurements, lifting his arms and adjusting his stance as you direct him.

After a beat, he clears his throat. 

“So, how long have you and Nat known each other?”

You hum in thought, not looking up from your work.

“Going on three years now, I believe.”

Steve’s brows lift slightly before his gaze flickers toward Natasha, as if piecing things together. 

“And are you two…?” He trails off, the implication hanging between you.

A low chuckle slips from your lips as you shake your head lightly. 

“No, nothing like that, at least, not exclusively,” you say, your tone lighthearted, though something unreadable flickers in your gaze as you glance at Natasha. 

“Right, love?”

Natasha stills, her fingers pausing against the equipment. She hadn’t expected to be pulled into the conversation. Lifting her gaze, she holds your eyes for a moment before looking away.

“Yeah,” she mutters softly, carefully placing the weapons back in their slots. With a quiet click, she shuts the case.

Silence settles between the group, the only sound in the room coming from the rustling of fabric and the light tapping of your fingers against the tablet as you take notes.

Then, the sharp buzz of your phone vibrating against your pocket breaks the quiet.

This time, Natasha doesn’t miss the way you glance at the screen, the briefest flicker of something unreadable crossing your face before you shut the device off again.

Her arms cross over her chest as she levels you with a pointed look. 

“How much is all this costing you?”

You pause briefly before looking up at her with a smirk.

“That’s nothing you’ll need to concern yourself about.”

As you finish up and straighten, a flicker of a wince crosses your face—so brief most wouldn’t catch it.

But Natasha does.

Her sharp eyes hone in immediately. Without hesitation, she strides forward, grabbing your wrist before you realize it.

“Wha–”

She doesn’t give you the chance to protest, pulling you swiftly toward one of the rooms and shutting the door behind you.

The moment it clicks shut, she turns, hands reaching for the hem of your shirt.

“Hold on, lo—”

Natasha ignores you, lifting the fabric and confirming what she already suspected.

“You did open your stitches,” she accuses, her voice edged with irritation and concern. Her fingers hover over the square bandage at your side, red seeping through the gauze.

Before she can say anything else, your hands cup her face, tilting her chin upward so her eyes meet yours. 

A playful smile tugs at your lips as you lean in, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of her nose.

“You’re cute when you care,” you murmur, brushing your thumb against her cheek. Then, with a teasing grin, you add, “But it’s not as bad as it looks, love, honest.”

At your dismissive tone, Natasha holds your gaze, searching for something—an explanation, a reason—until she can’t help but voice her thoughts.

“Why are you doing this?” she whispers.

The unspoken words pass between you, heavy with meaning. Why are you risking yourself? Why go to such lengths? Why help her?

Your expression softens. Instead of answering with logic or reason, you simply pull her closer, resting your forehead against hers.

“Because it’s something I can do for you,” you say simply.

The sincerity in your voice makes her breath hitch.

Before she can respond, you close the distance, capturing her lips in a slow, deliberate kiss. It’s a kiss that speaks of familiarity, of understanding, of a connection beyond words.

Natasha’s hands tighten around the fabric of your jacket as she deepens the kiss, pulling you closer. A soft sound of approval rumbles from your chest, your hands sliding to rest at her waist.

Then, breathless but smirking, you pull back just enough to murmur against her lips, “Do you want to try out the hot water together?”

A faint smirk forms on Natasha’s lips.

Without a word, she grabs your wrist and tugs you toward the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind you two.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha’s fingers move idly, tracing faint, absentminded patterns across your bare skin where your top has ridden up slightly.

The slow rise and fall of your chest against her keeps her grounded, your warmth settling into her like an anchor.

She watches you, curled into her arms, the soft glow of the dim light casting gentle shadows across your face.

There’s something about this moment—quiet, unguarded—that makes her reluctant to break it.

But she does. 

“Thank you,” she murmurs, voice barely above a whisper.

Your breathing shifts slightly, and your eyes flutter open, hazy with drowsiness as you turn your head toward her. A flicker of curiosity crosses your expression.

“For coming when I called,” Natasha continues, her voice steady but quiet. “I know it wasn’t the safest move for you.”

Her hand drifts lower, brushing lightly over the fresh bandage at your side, her fingertips ghosting over the wound with a delicate trace.

A soft chuckle rumbles in your chest. You close your eyes again, nuzzling closer, tucking your head into the crook of her neck as if you belong there.

“Anything for my favorite client,” you murmur, your breath warm against her skin.

Natasha doesn’t reply, but the way her arms tighten around you speaks enough. She presses her cheek against the top of your head, her fingers still tracing along your side, committing this rare moment of peace to memory.

A comfortable silence settles between you. The kind that feels full rather than empty, where neither of you feels the need to fill the space with words.

Then, the stillness is broken.

The muffled buzz of a phone vibrating from the pile of clothes strewn across the floor cuts through the quiet.

You exhale a deep sigh, your breath brushing against her collarbone before you reluctantly pull away.

“I should get going,” you say, sitting up and stretching your arms lightly. Your tone is casual, but Natasha doesn’t miss the flicker of hesitation in your movements. “I think I’ve left my other clients waiting long enough.”

She watches as you gather your things, a strange tightness settling in her chest. There’s something she wants to say—something that lingers on the tip of her tongue.

Don’t go. Stay a little longer.

But the words don’t come.

Instead, she hesitates, her hands clenching briefly at her sides before she exhales softly.

“I…” she starts, but then she pauses, her gaze flickering away as she struggles with what exactly she wants to say to you.

You glance up from your phone, head tilting slightly as you wait for her to finish. There’s patience in your expression but also a quiet knowing—like you already understand what she’s trying to say, even if she doesn’t say it aloud.

Finally, she settles on something simpler.

Something safer.

“It was good seeing you again.”

A small smile tugs at your lips, but there’s something else in your eyes—something unreadable. You step closer, closing the distance between you effortlessly.

Lifting her chin with a gentle touch, you lean in, pressing a slow, delicate kiss to her lips. It lingers, warm and unhurried, before you pull away just enough for your lips to barely ghost over hers.

Your usual teasing smirk makes its return as you murmur against her mouth, “Don’t leave me waiting too long for your next call…”

Another feather-light press of your lips follows—a touch so fleeting yet so certain. And then, in a quiet whisper.

“…my love.”

And just like that, you’re gone.

The room feels quieter without you in it, as if something vital has been pulled away. Natasha stays where she is for a moment before exhaling, pressing a hand against her chest.

Her heartbeat is steady.

But she can still feel the ghost of your lips, the weight of your presence lingering in the space you left behind.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: Thank you for reading! Hope you all have a Happy Valentine’s Day!

Taglist : @caspianalexander007

[harrysxcarolina]

bittersuite

b eilish

warnings: wlw, soft!billie, flirty!billie, teasing, smut, fluff, angst, friendstolovers, brothersbestfriend x reader, cussing, cliffhanger, also she a thick lil thing so enjoy!!!

wc: 7.2k

I can't fall in love with you

You couldn’t help but stare at her out of the corner of your eye. The way that her hair fell down her back framing around her face perfectly. Her dark locks only brightening her icy blue eyes more than they already were. Her hand subconsciously reaching up and tucking some of them behind her ear. Noticing the way her head tilted back as she laughed at something her brother, your best friend said. A smile crept its way across your face as they pulled you into their conversation on what they should order for dinner. 

Shrugging your shoulders letting them know you don’t have a preference and will eat whatever as you curl yourself back up into the corner of the couch. Mindlessly scrolling on your phone as you steal glances at the pair on either side of you. Trying to keep your eyes from lingering too long. You catch the eyes of Finneas as you don’t miss the raised eyebrow at you silently asking you if you were okay. Knowing that you always try to talk them into your favorite place every time. Billie is quick to pull his attention back on her as she scrolls through the food options she's pulled up. 

She leans her body across your legs showing her brother her phone to get his opinion on the options she's pulled up. You feel your heartbeat quicken. Her body pressing down on yours as she carelessly jokes with Finneas. Your lip finds its way between your teeth as you fight back the butterflies soaring through your belly. 

***

Lounging against the back of the couch rubbing your stomach you can’t help the soft groan that leaves your lips. 

“Why did we think it was a good idea to eat all that food again?” You whine as Billie and Finneas join you in your lounging. Their laughs fill the room as you feel the sleepiness begin to creep in. Stretching as you let out a yawn slowly curling yourself onto your side in the corner of the couch. It was your favorite spot. It was in the middle of your two favorite people. It was cozy and comfortable, and you had the perfect view of the tv for all the binge sessions the three of you had. 

“We needed options.” Finneas shrugs as you fight your eyelids to stay open. You feel a certain pair of eyes on you, but the tiredness taking over you couldn’t be bothered to look up and see the piercing blue orbs staring down at you. 

“Plus, everything sounded good and neither one of you wanted to help pick so I said fuck it and ordered everything.” Billie laughs as she moves her gaze to search for a movie, not missing the way you scooted yourself deeper into the couch. Your head gently landing in her lap, unintentionally that is. Getting all comfy and cozy for your afternoon nap. A small smile works its way across her lips as she tosses a blanket at Finneas nodding down at you. Her cheeks heating up as you continue to make yourself comfortable against her thigh. Moving the baby hairs out of your face without opening your eyes. Consumed in your own little world of sleepiness. Not really sure where it was coming from, but she definitely wasn’t gonna complain about it either. 

His eyes follow her gaze as he can’t help the smirk on his face and the slight shake of his head as he gently spreads the blanket out over you. Your light snores fill the room soon after. Finneas quietly letting Billie know he has to run to the restroom. Leaving you and Billie alone for a few moments. She doesn’t waste any time before she reaches her fingertips out to gently brush the hair laying across your cheek behind your ear. Her eyes soften as she glances down at you. You were already fast asleep. Nose scrunched up as you snuggle the blanket closer against your cheek. Neatly curled up in the cushions of the couch and her thigh as your chest moves softly with each breath you take. Her lip found itself tangled between her teeth as she let her fingers linger just a moment longer. Tracing every outline of your face but not wanting to wake you with her soft tickles. 

Taking a deep breath before carefully getting herself comfortable on the couch. Prepared to not move an inch wanting to make sure you get your rest. Or maybe, just a little bit, she likes the way it felt with you cuddled up beside her. Though she wouldn’t admit that out loud to anyone. Glancing down at you she didn’t miss the swirling butterflies fluttering around in her belly as you would softly nuzzle your face against her thigh as you tuck the blanket up against your cheek. Shielding you away from the conscious world. Making sure one last time you were completely covered up before she settled on a movie and let you sleep snuggled deep into her side. 

Finneas is quick to return as he glances back and forth between the two of you. With a shrug of her shoulders, she playfully swats him away as he tries to pick on you as he walks past and flops down on the couch. Your body slightly stirs at the sudden movement. Finneas can’t help the laugh that ripples through him when he notices the dagger eyes Billie shoots him as she holds perfectly still. Carefully watching you until you slowly fall back into your nap. 

With raised eyebrows Finneas threw his sister a look. One that they both knew what he meant without needing the words spoken. Tugging at her bottom lip she refuses to look back in her brother's direction, deciding to focus on the scenes playing out in front of her on the tv and the soft nudges your head left against her thigh anytime you breathe in. focus on the movie billie. focus billie. 

She repeated the mantra over and over again, never focusing on the movie. 

I've been havin' dreams

Groaning as your body tosses and turns between the warm sheets. Sleep coating you like a weighted blanket as your mind is tricked into a different reality. One that you desperately wished could be real. 

Her hands roaming your body. Her lips leaving soft open mouth kisses down your neck as her fingertips trace shapes across your lower torso. From hip to hip. Back and forth. Never getting lower than the hem of your panties. Her lips work their way across your jaw. Softly brushing her soft swollen ones against yours. Her smirk teasing.  Moving her body closer to you as she slid her hand down your torso grasping your hip and giving you a small tug. Your bodies now completely pressed up against one another. 

“Do you want me baby?”  she mumbles against your cheek. Her mumbles trickle down your heated skin as the tip of her nose tickles yours when you tilt your head in her direction. Lips teasing as you feel her fingers continue to flirt with you. Slightly slipping underneath the hem of the black lace but just barely. 

Your breath catches as she captures your bottom lip between her teeth. Moaning into her mouth as her fingers slide lower and lower between your thighs. 

“Tell me you want me, pretty girl.” She groans in your ear as she inches her fingers closer and closer to your heated core. 

Her tongue tracing the shell of your ear. Groaning as your hips buck up into her touch. Needing more of her. 

“C’mon, I know you do,” she whispers as her fingertips finally reach their destination, but stop just shy of where you desperately wanted her. Her lips are hot against your ear. “I see the way you want me.” She whispers, her tone dropping as the words leave her lips. Grasping her back as you chase after her lips. Her smirk grows as she pulls back just before you can catch her. Moaning in frustration as you long for her skin on yours. 

Her evil chuckle echoes through the room. 

“All you gotta do is say the words mamas,” She whimpers as she crashes her lips against yours as her fingers slide between your wetness. Coating her fingers in your juices, “then I’m yours.” She moans.

Mine, mine, mine…

You’re woken from your slumber by the obnoxious knocking outside your front door. The jump scare causes the pulsing of your heart to ring in your ears as you rub the sleep from your eyes. Glancing at your phone checking the time. You overslept. Quickly throwing the blankets off your once warm body and working your way out of bed. Your cheeks heating up at the realization of what just happened. What you just dreamt about. Who you dreamt about. Your best friend's sister. Someone you most definitely should not and can’t not be having dreams about. Shaking your head trying to rid your mind of not only the images of her pressed against your skin but her soft whispers that were currently playing on a loop in your mind.

Taking quick steps to the door you offer a quick apologetic smile as you swing the door open for Finneas. A quick quirk of his eyebrow as he looks you up and down noticing you're still in your pajamas. Silently checking his watch and giving you a quick smirk and shrug of his shoulder nodding for you to go get ready. “Decide to sleep in, did ya?” He jokes as he is quick to pull you into a hug. 

“I’ll be quick. I promise!” You state as you slowly remove your arms from around him making room for him to come in, realizing his sister, the girl you just had a sex dream about, was right behind him wearing a smirk at your frazzled state. Your cheeks heat up even more as you frantically flatten out your bed head. “Good morning sleepy head. Have any good dreams?” She asks, popping the gum in her mouth as she runs her tongue across her lips. Eyes wide quickly turning on your heel making your way back to your room totally ignoring her question. Her smirk only grows as she wonders what had you so worked up. 

***

“Billie wh-what are you doing?” You asked in a hushed tone as she gently pushed you into her childhood room. Closing the door behind her leaving the background noise of the bbq her parents were having in the backyard behind you. 

“Look, I can't keep doing this.” She states as she grasps one of your hips. The tips of your toes brushing together as she tucks her hair behind her ear. Looking up at you through her laces. Confusion laced through your face as you began to question her. 

“Keep doing what? Billie what-” 

“I can’t keep pretending that there isn’t something between us. Don’t say you don’t feel it either.” She questions as she takes the last step between you two. Your breath hitches. You can smell the faint smell of her perfume as she reaches up and brushes your cheek.

“I see the way you look at me when you think no one is watching.” She whispers bashfully. 

“Billie we can’t.” You whisper as your eyes close slightly leaning into her touch.

“I see the way you want me pretty,” She mumbles as she pulls you closer by your hip. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you open your eyes meeting her gaze. Your cheeks are rosy pink as her eyes flicker between your eyes and lips. 

“I want you too.” She declares leaning up on her tiptoes just close enough for your lips to brush softly as her hand slides to cup your cheek. 

Your eyes flutter close as you moisten your lips with the tip of your tongue. It softly brushes against her swollen lips causing a soft moan to bounce off her lips. Forgetting about all the what ifs and hows it could all go wrong. You forget for a split second the aftermath of your decisions tonight. Not wanting to think anymore. Not wanting to fight the feelings that have been brewin’ for what felt like forever, just for a moment. 

Or maybe more…

Her hand gripping your cheek. “Tell me you don’t want this?” She questions against your cheek as she lays a peppered kiss to the heated skin. Moaning softly for finally being able to touch you in ways she's found herself dreaming about. Her lips lay a final peck to the corner of your mouth. Not quite taking that final leap before you gave her the okay. Not until you told her what she was wanting to hear.

“I want to be the one-” you take a deep breath pulling away from her hypnotizing lips to look at her. “I want to be the one you dream about.” You don’t miss the flash of emotion in her eyes before she's pulling you flush against her lips as your hands grip her baggy shirt hanging loosely off her torso. Moaning into each other's mouths as they tangle together passionately.

Definitely ignoring the swirling thoughts of how this could go wrong.

We can be discrete (ah)

Her lips leave her mark across your chest as your hands grip her back. Pulling her tighter against you as her teeth graze your hot skin. Back arching off the bed as she slides her hands behind you toying with the clasps of your bra. 

“Are you sure about this?” She asks as she slowly works her lips up your neck to your lips. Nodding your head as you move one hand to the base of her neck. Gently playing with the baby hairs that lay there. A small smile works its way across your face as you see her knowing look. 

She wants you to say it. Watching her teeth capture her bottom lip, your hands tangle themselves into her hair tilting her head back slightly. Her smirk only grows bigger as her teeth refuse to give up their grip on herself. Her eyebrows raise letting you know she is still waiting for your consent. 

Her expression softens briefly as you lower your gaze. “Hey, we don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.” She replies as she softly cups your cheek forcing you to bring your eyes back to her. 

“I want to,” You reply as your eyes trace over the curves of her face. Her lips land on yours softly. A soft delicate kiss shared between the both of you. Filled with unspoken feelings and thoughts. Not realizing you shared the same worries. Pulling away slowly climbing on top of you straddling your hips. Licking her lips as she looks down at you. Taking you all in. Your hair fanned out across her pillow. Eyes bright with excitement. Lips swollen from the attack of your teeth. Your cheeks a rosy pink casting a glow off the soft fairy lights dangling off the wall above you. Your chest lightly heaving up and down as you stare right back. Your hand reaching up and tugging on her baggy shit. Silently begging for her to remove it. Gripping the hem and sliding it over her head it joins the half-made pile of clothes already down there. 

Grinning down at you as she slowly reaches up and ties her long hair up in a messy bun. A few pieces escape and fell into her view, but she paid them no mind, not with the sight she had laying right in front of her.

Her bottom lip finds its way between her teeth as she slowly slides her hand down her neck. Eyes locking with yours as she slowly lowers it down across her breast. Sliding her hand in the cup of her bra gently brushing over her sensitive nipple. Her head tilting back as her free hand grips your hip. You watch her in a daze. Your core throbbing at the sight of her playing with herself in front of you. Moaning as your hand reaches out for her. Needing to touch her. To feel her underneath your fingertips. To feel all her quivers and whimpers firsthand.

Gripping her hip and motioning for her to move her hips as you continue to watch her twist and pull at her own nipple. Licking your lips, rutting your hips up against her. Her ass rubbing just right over your core. She growls above you as you wrap your arm around her waist, sitting up and kissing all along her cleavage. Nipping and licking at her warm skin as you leave purple marks all across her chest. Your hand working its way up her spine unclasping her bra and freeing her breast. Moaning as they sit perfectly right in front of you. You're quick to capture her bud in your mouth and let your tongue work. Licking and flicking against her as you suction your lips around her. Her moans echo off the walls as she arches into you. Her hands gripping your head holding you against her. Her hips now rocking back and forth against you. 

Rotating deliciously against you causing your entire body to erupt in shivers. Your grip on her waist tightens as you flip her over causing her to land with a soft thud. Her loose hair panning out across her sheets as your lips make quick work on her skin. Kissing down her body making sure to explore every. single. inch. Looking up at her through your lashes as you give her a soft smile silently asking her for permission kissing the soft skin between her hips. Teetering with the idea of your lips between her thighs. Her head falls back onto the bed as her hips buck up. Moaning as she whispers out a soft, “please.” 

Smirking, you quickly unbutton her jeans and slide them down her legs. Making sure to kiss your way back up her soft thighs as you gently spread her legs. Scooching down between them as your arms wrap up under her thighs and around her hips. Her eyes never leaving yours as her chest heaves up and down. Her hands groping her breast as her fingers gently tease one of her nipples. Teeth sinking into her lip as she watches you place kisses up and down her thighs. Your eyes watching her as she toys with herself. 

Planting a soft kiss over her clothed clit before sliding the pesky material off and out of your way. Your hand quickly swatting Billies hands away from her breast as you replace it. Squeezing and pulling as your lips find their way to her dripping cunt. Groaning as you flick your tongue against her clit, your hand gripping her hip as your fingers twist and pull her nipple. 

“Fucking hell-” Billie moans as she arches her back into your touch. Her hips grinding against your tongue as you suck and lick between her folds. Moaning into her, she grips your hand that is holding her breast, and the other works its way into your hair. Pushing you further into her as her legs quiver beside your head. 

Clenching your thighs and rutting against the bed as you slide your free hand between her thighs. Slowly replacing your mouth on her clit with your fingers. Looking up at her as you spread her wetness all around. Removing the hand that was gripping her tit and slowly interlacing her fingers with yours. Her grip on your hair refusing to let up. Her chest heaves up and down as she watches you play with her. Her tongue quickly moistens her swollen lips as you tease her with your fingers. Carefully slipping the tip of your middle finger into her. Her breath catches, grip on your hand tightening as you thrust your finger fully into her core. Moaning as you twist and curl your finger deliciously against her walls. Her moans fill the room as you kiss your way up her thigh your finger never faltering as you continue your sweet torture on her bud. 

Capturing her between your lips as you hit her sweet spot over and over. Your fingers getting to spots she didn’t even know would feel like this. Taking over all her senses. Sucking her sensitive clit between your lips toying with it with the tip of your tongue. 

“Shit mamas,” Billie groans loudly as her hips shamelessly try to grind themselves against you. Needing more. More of you. More of this feeling that is taking over her like a wildfire. Consuming not only her body but mind. Needing all of you in every single way imaginable. 

Your smirk grows, not missing the pet name she threw out there, as you continue your work. Licking, sucking, and teasing her aching clit as your finger slows its pace between her folds. Her whines only get louder with your finger barely moving against her, your tongue works over time. Drinking up everything she has to offer you. “Fuck, please- please don’t stop.” She moans, her back lifting off the bed begging for your touch. Pulling her further into your mouth, swiveling your tongue in figure eights, as you feel her juices drip down your chin. Pinning your interlaced hands down on the bed as she fights your hold against her.

Glancing up at her through your lashes, slowly continuing to tease her. Dragging your tongue up and down her folds over and over again. Everytime you’d get close to her aching clit you’d quickly restart the process. Eyes never leaving hers as you watch her capture her bottom lip between her teeth, her blue orbs get darker and darker the longer she watches your every move. Moaning as you feel the tight pull on your own core. Her stare heavy with all the thoughts and ways she is going to devour you later. Her fingers deep in your hair as she gently pushes you closer to her once more. So close to the blissful edge. A feeling she could get addicted too. A feeling she so desperately wanted to give to you.

 “God-please don’t stop.” She asks in a hushed tone. Her cheeks turn a rosy pink from her own words as she continues to watch your every move. Your tongue circling her clit as you slowly add a second finger. Groaning against her as she clenches around your digits. Her body arches off the bed as you thrust and curl your fingers against that sweet spongy spot over and over again until she is panting beneath you. Begging for you to let her cum. Her moans so sweet above you as you hit her g-spot just right as you watch her unfold on your tongue and fingers. Her hand now holds your head tightly in place as she rotates her hips against you.

“Fucking shit! Fuck-I’m cumming,” she groans out. Squeezing her hand as you let her work herself against your tongue. Flexing your fingers riding out her high as you don’t miss a single drop of her sweetness. Letting her go with a pop memorizing her fucked out state. A smirk works its way across your cheeks. Her lips red and swollen. Her eyes wild with lust as she gently releases her grip on your hair and hand. Bringing her hands to your cheeks and gently pulling you up her body. Your fingers leave their trace as you grip her sides. Her lips capture yours in a sweet kiss as you feel her chest heaving up and down below you. Getting lost in the feeling of her lips on yours and her hands holding your cheeks moaning as you feel her tongue trace across your bottom lip. A devilish smirk across her cheeks as you slowly grant her access.

Quick to taste herself on your lips she wasted no time in deepening the kiss working her tongue against yours. What once was a sweet kiss sure turns heated as her fingers slide their way into your hair tilting your head slightly. Slightly distracting you enough to flip the two of you over. Her now the one to tower over you. Her legs wrapped around your torso as you lay panting below her. Her forehead resting against yours. Breathing each other in as you catch your breaths.

“Who knew you were such a tease?” She mumbles against your lips, rubbing the tip of her nose against yours. It was your turn to feel the heat rise to your cheeks as her piercing blue eyes met yours. Her smirk only grows as her fingers tighten in your hair. A soft hum leaves her chest as her lips toy with yours. Gently brushing across yours but not letting them linger too long. Groaning in protest as you chase her lips only to be pulled back by her grip in your hair.

“Hm, I guess it’s my turn now pretty girl.” She mocks her hot breath hitting your face right before she captures your bottom lip between her teeth with a tug. Bucking your hips up in response as your hands search for her hips. Pulling her flush against you. Shamelessly grinding yourself up against her as her lips dance with yours. Your moans echoing off the walls as her hands explore your body. 

Her hands continue their movements down your body. Her eyes never leave yours as they get lower and lower leaving goosebumps in their trail. Her lips find your neck as she kisses your skin searching for your sweet spot. Making quick worth to capture it between her lips leaving her mark along your neck as you chant her name begging for anything she will give you. Her fingers teasing the hemline of your panties as she feels your chest heaving against hers. Her smirk only grows across your neck as she flirts with you.

“Tell me you want me.” She moans against the shell of your ear. “I need to hear you say it again.” She begs as she moves to tangle her legs with yours. Her fingertips gently sliding across your panties teasing your aching clit. Giving you a little taste of what's to come if you only were to mutter those sweet three words. I want you. Her hand gripping your hip as her fingers spread your wetness around your clit. Her breathing heavy in your ear pinning your hips down. Moaning as your back arches off the bed following her touch. 

Your body is on fire. Your heart was beating so fast you could hear it in your ears. Your bottom lip captured between your teeth. Chest heaving against hers as you feel her breast against your burning skin. 

“C’mon be my girl good and I’ll show you how I want you,” she whimpers. Her soft tone causes something to explode in you as you grip her wrist and slide it under your panties. The friction of her fingers between your wet folds hitting your clit causing the both of you to lose it in a fit of moans. Your hips grinding and rotating against her. Working her fingers and hips against your body as she captures your lips with hers. 

Her body is pressing on yours as her fingers slide their way between your folds. Feeling how wet you are just for her. Groaning as she slides two fingers into your heated core causing the both of you to pull away from the kiss but only for a moment. Thrusting and curling perfectly along your walls as your hands grasp and pull at her body. Your lips find her neck leaving open mouth kisses. Kissing and sucking along her collarbone feeling every ragged breath she takes above you. Your hands gripping her hips aiding in her motions as she hits your spongy sweet spot repeatedly. 

Her forehead meeting your shoulder as she works herself up for the second time tonight against your body. Her fingers never faltered as she thrust them harder and deeper in you. Her thumb rubbing and flicking  your clit causing you to see stars. “Fuck, right there!” You moan as your hands slide up her back holding her to you. The sweet pressure getting bigger and bigger in your core as she works you closer to your high. Her lips hot against your neck as her fingers don’t stop. She feels you clenching around her digits. Your juices dripping down her fingers and wrist causes her to go feral. Kissing her way down your body making sure to lay kisses along your breast. Glancing up at you through her lashes as her smirk grows across your tummy. Her tongue leaves her trace across your hot skin as she keeps her eyes on yours. Getting lower and lower. Her fingers still keeping up their movements as she kisses the inside of your thigh. 

With a quirk of her eyebrow she gives you one last look as she breathes you in. Her tongue swiping across her lips as her icy blue eyes bore into you. Watching as her fingers sink in and out of you over and over again. 

“Billie,” you whine as your back arches off the bed. Your hands gripping your naked breast as she glances up at you. 

“Tell me what I want to hear baby, then I’ll show you.” She states as she lays a peppered kiss on the inside of your thigh once more. Her eyes take in her affect on you. Your hair is completely done for. Your cheeks a hot red. Lips swollen and rosy as they silently beg to be kissed. Your chest heaving up and down as your fingers toy with your own nipples. Laid out on her childhood bed panting and moaning for her touch. Billie groans at the sight. Her lip between her teeth trying to fight back the smirk on her cheeks. 

Leaning down inching herself closer to where you wanted her you fight the moan working its way to your lips. Neither one of you dared to break the contact as she slowly kissed her way up your thigh. It was her turn to toy with you. Just like the way you toyed with her. Groaning as you throw your head back on her bed, her lips oh so carefully brushing against your aching pussy. Her fingers still working you slowly as she continues to twist and curl deep inside you. Causing your stomach to erupt in butterflies as she softly brushed the tip of her tongue along your folds. Needed a tiny taste herself. Groaning as her eyes roll using her free hand to grip your hip. 

“Fuck, please Billie.” You groan, reaching one of your hands down to tangle itself in her dark locks. Trying desperately for her to give you what you wanted.  “I want you so bad. Please Bils-” You moan as you thrust your hips up not able to take it anymore. Needed to feel her in ways you’ve only dreamt of. 

That was all she needed to hear before she dove right in. Capturing your bud between her teeth as she quickens the thrust of her fingers. Her tongue swirling and nipping at you over and over again. Your hips rutting against her face as your fingers hold her tight in place. Her moans vibrate throughout your body as she laps every single drop. Your body quivering and shaking underneath her as she works her tongue down between your folds and then back up. Sucking your clit as her fingers grip your hip pinning you down. She was in charge now. 

“Fucking shit- oh my god Billie!” You moan as your legs try to clench around her head. Her tongue and fingers do wonders on your body as you feel yourself climbing high and higher. You moans echoing off the walls not caring who all could hear. The tightness gets too much to bare as she refuses to give up her grip on you. 

You feel your coil about to burst as she rotates her tongue against your clit. Your juices drip down her chin as her blue orbs meet yours. Silently begging you to give her all of you. With one last flick and curl she had you cumming. Body shaking as your eyes clenched tight, grinding your hips against her as you ride out your high. Not stopping until she had you begging and pushing her head away, claiming it was too much. Your body heaves as you lay trying to catch your breath. 

Her soft lips trailing up your body as she slowly removes her fingers from between your thighs. Her smirk grows feeling your quivering body beneath hers as she kisses her way up to your lips. Her hands brushing the fallen pieces of hair that lay in your vision as she kisses both of your cheeks. Her eyes trace your face as she lays herself flush against you. Both of you laying bare as you run your fingertips up her spine. Softly tickling her skin causing a shiver to escape. A soft chuckle leaves her lips as she softly asks you to open your eyes and look at her. 

A soft blush creeps across your cheeks as you meet her stare. Her once icy blue orbs that were laced with lust are now soft as she takes you in. Eyes flicking between yours and your lips as she continues to run her fingertips along the curves of your features. 

Tracing around your eyebrows and down your nose, across your lips and down your jaw softly cupping your cheek before pressing a soft sweet kiss to your lips. She doesn’t linger long before she feels you gently push her to sit up. 

“We should, uh we should probably head back. Don’t want people to start to question anything.” You say in a hushed whisper. Your eyes casting down as you run  your fingers through your hair. Trying to flatten down any flyaways. 

Her eyes furrowed in confusion, but not fighting you as she scoots her way down the bed watching you get up and begin to dress to rejoin the bbq happening outback. 

Love so bittersweet, mm

“Why in such a rush?” Billie softly questions as she watches you search her room for the remainder of your clothes. Your heart quickens at her words. The actions between you and her replaying in your mind on repeat. Taking a deep breath you finally find your shirt underneath her bed. “I already told you why.” You state as you get on your hands and knees to reach for it. Billie still sitting on the bed above you watching your every move.

“Why does it matter if people question where we were?” She asks as she finally stands up off the bed looking down at you. Throwing your shirt on quickly before joining her you grab her shirt off the floor too. Holding it out for her she hesitantly takes it from your grip. 

“Billie-” You start. 

“No, don’t do that. Don’t shut me out. I know you have feelings for me.” She states as she slides her shirt over her head. Glancing down as she slides her jeans back up her thighs. Tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear as you try and collect the thoughts running wild through your mind. 

“It’s not that simple.” You mutter with a shake of your head. You hear her scoff. 

“How is it not? I like you. You like me. It’s simple.” She declares as she takes a step towards you. Softly gripping your arm causing you to move your gaze back to her. Worry laces your features as you stare at one another. Shaking your head as you remove her grip from your arm.

“It’s never that simple and you know it.” You say as you make your way towards the door. 

“So you’re just going to run? After everything you're just going to run away from me?” She questions as she is quick to follow you out of her childhood room. Her chest tightens. You said you wanted her. You said that you wanted this just like she did. And you did. You desperately wanted her. In every way imaginable. But there were other people you needed to think about. How it would not only affect you but them. Your thoughts were tangled up with everything that just happened along with how it will affect the one other person you cared deeply for. Your best friend. Her brother. It wasn’t fair. None of it was. You didn’t want to hurt either one of them. You couldn’t. You refused to. 

“Stop running and talk to me.” She urgently says as she finally catches up with you and stops your movements. Her grip is tight, but not tight enough to hurt you. Her eyes bore confusion and hurt as you finally turned to look at her. Her lips are still rosy and swollen. Her chest slightly heaving at the thought of you just walking away. Hair still tied up in a messy bun, but disheveled nonetheless. Her jeans hanging loosely off her hips as her baggy shirt wrinkled and bawled up against her waistline.  

“Don’t do this. Don’t-” She takes a deep breath as her free hand reaches up to brush hair out of her face. Eyes filled with worry as they flick back up to yours. “Don’t go.” She begs. Your heart breaks at her words. Your body runs cold as you reach up to brush her cheek. You don’t say anything for a moment as you both just stand there looking at each other. Her eyes get softer by the second as you feel her relax against your hold.

“What about Fin?” You softly whisper. Tears welling in your eyes at the thought of this coming between the three of you. You had no idea how he would react. You and Billie. It was one thing to hang out but it was a completely different story to fall in love with his younger sister. “I can’t lose him. I can’t lose either one of you. This- God this could ruin it all Billie.” You state as the damn breaks free. Your hot tears trailing down your cheeks as your chest heaves in panic. “I’m so sorry. I-I-I can’t.” You stutter as you drop your hand. You couldn’t win this war in your head. You are a losing battle the longer you stand crumbling in front of the only girl you’ve ever loved. Seeing the hurt flash across her eyes as she takes a step towards you only for you to take one back. 

Shaking your head as your lips quiver, continuing your small steps away from her making your way out of the house not sure where you were headed but you knew you couldn’t face either one of them in this state. 

Open up the door for me, for me…

Billie's leg is nonstop jiggling. It has been four days. Four days since you confessed to each other your feelings for one another. Four days since her heart shattered into pieces watching you walk away from her. Four days since she's heard a word from you. You’ve gone silent. Shutting her and everybody else out. You weren’t responding to anyone. Not even Finneas. Her mind and body numb as she stares blankly at the screen. Half listening to what her brother was asking her to do on the newest track they were working on. 

“Hello? Earth to Billie? Are you even listening?” Finneas asks her with a huff. Getting pulled out of her thought spiral she quickly shakes her head and glances up at her brother. Her heart was beating hard against her chest as her mouth went dry. She couldn’t take it anymore. 

“I’m in love with her.” Billie declares. Her face goes white as a ghost as her mouth moves faster than her mind. Finneas shooting her a look. Eyebrows raised in confusion. 

“I know.” Is all he states as he moves his stare back to the screen. Her breathing stops. That’s all he’s gonna say? Normally he hounds her for information. Wanting to get inside her head, making sure that the person she was seeing was actually treating her right and the way that she deserved to be treated. She was his little sister after all. 

The only sound in the room is the soft clicks of the mouse and keyboard as he aimlessly plays around with the track. “I’ve known for a while.” He mutters without taking his eyes off the screen. “I see the way you guys look at each other. I see the way you guys get when you think no one is looking.” He states as he finally looks at her giving up on the task at hand. 

“You never said anything?” Billie softly questions as she feels the blush creep up on her cheeks. Fidgeting with the rings that cluttered her fingers in hopes of distracting herself.

“I didn’t think it would take as long as it did for you to admit it to yourself. Plus I kinda figured something went down when she left the bbq so quickly the other day.” Finneas spoke as he turned his chair to give her his full attention. His hands reach for hers, stopping her nervous habit. 

“It’s been days and she won’t talk to me.” She gushes as she fights the tears swelling up. “I fucked it all up Finn. You didn’t see the way she looked at me. God I fucked everything up.” She states as her body shakes, finally crumbling into her feelings. Finneas is quick to pull his little sister in a tight hug. Gently cradling her head as he softly rocks the both of them back and forth. 

“I’m sure that’s not true. Just give her time.” He says softly comforting her. Letting her get all her emotions out. 

“I pushed her Finneas. She was so worried about what would happen between us all and I- I fuck, I pushed her.” Billie continues as she falls into his hold. 

“Go talk to her. I’m sure you two will be able to figure it out.” He sincerely offers. “And if it helps, I was always secretly rooting for the two of you.” He says with a soft chuckle causing her to lift her head from his shoulder looking at him trying to find any dishonesty. Sniffling and wiping her eyes she doesn’t find any. 

“Go, go talk to her.” He urges. Gently pushing her the rest of the way back in her chair. A small smile works its way across her lips as she quickly gathers up her things. “Are you sure?” She asks in a hushed panic taking one last look at her brother over her shoulder. Nodding his head yes as he urges her to the door. 

Clenching her phone and keys in hand as she can’t fight the smile on her face. Giving him one final nod as she rushes to her car. Hoping and praying you give her the chance. Her fingers nervously grip and tap the wheel as she drives to your place. Her ears ringing with how hard her heart was beating against her chest. Playing out all the ways that this could go. All she needed was for you to open the door to her and all the possibilities of how this new chapter for the both of you could go. 

Please just open up the door. 

Open up the door for me…

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　VALENTINES DAY | BLURB

─ ⋆౨ৎ˚ dad!matt sturniolo x reader

Where Matt gives his wife and daughter the softest Valentine's Day surprise 🎀🤍

"Do you wanna build a snowman?"

The sun was still low in the sky when Morgan settled on the couch in the living room, surrounded by her favorite blankets, eating apple slices while watching Frozen on TV. Her little body was relaxed, her blue eyes drooping with sleep, but she refused to let it win, not when Ana was singing, obviously.

With her tiny, slightly raspy morning voice, Morgan tried to follow the song, murmuring the lines she already knew by heart. Her long brown hair - a tangled mess - dancing with her head movements.

In the kitchen, Y/N was preparing a hearty breakfast for the family, slicing fruit, and mixing pancake batter with the utmost calm. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon filled the air as she hummed a familiar tune - a children's song Morgan had been obsessed with for the past few days.

Every now and then, her eyes flicked across the room, where she could see her little girl on the couch, safe and engrossed.

The soft sound of the door connecting the garage to the house opening echoed, and Matt entered quietly. He had been out since early morning, running a few errands with his brothers, and now he moved carefully, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

His steps were silent as he approached the couch from behind, stopping right in front of the TV, blocking Morgan's view. The little girl immediately furrowed her brows, a pout forming on her pink lips, ready to complain with the same theatrical impatience as her father.

But before any protest could leave her lips, a dramatic gasp escaped instead. Her tiny hands flew to her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled like little stars at the sight before her: a dozen pink and red balloons floating above Matt’s head, with phrases like "Will you be my Valentine?", "Happy Valentine’s Day" and "Love you" written on them.

Tucked under his arms were two stuffed animals of different sizes, and in his hands, he held two big bouquets filled with vibrant, colorful flowers.

"DADDY!" Morgan shrieked, tossing her purple plastic bowl full of apple slices aside and reaching her little arms up toward him.

Matt laughed, delighted by her reaction.

"You were about to get mad at daddy, bug?" He teased, raising an eyebrow as he crouched to her level with a bit of difficulty gave his full arms.

Morgan shook her head vigorously, her blue eyes locked on the bears and balloons. Her tiny fingers immediately stretched out to grab the stuffed bunny, clearly meant for her, and Matt smiled, handing it to her with immense affection.

"Here it is, my lil’ darlin'." He coos, running his fingers gently through her messy hair, his silver rings shining between brown strands. "Happy Valentine’s Day, bee."

Y/N watched the scene from the kitchen counter, still holding the bowl full of pancake batter, her expression melting into a soft, loving smile.

Matt took one of the bouquets and handed it to Morgan, who widened her eyes at the explosion of colors in front of her.

"Look, Morgan-Poo, these are your flowers." He said, waiting to see her reaction.

"So many colors, daddy!" She exclaimed in awe, carefully pulling at the stems. "Purple! An' pink! An-and blue! And... Daddy, this one looks like a rainbow!"

"It really does, bug." He agreed, a pang in his chest from his girl's excitement. "Do you like'em?"

Morgan nodded enthusiastically, hugging the bouquet close to her chest, being careful not to squeeze any petal.

"They smell so pretty! Can I put them in my princess cup?"

"Of course you can, sweetheart. We’ll find the perfect spot for them, okay?" Matt promised, caressing her tiny knee covered in her pajamas pants.

While Morgan entertained herself with her new gifts, Matt finally turned to Y/N, making his way toward her with a soft smile, receiving a knowing look back. Without a word, he pulled her by the front pocket of her yellow apron right into his arms, pressing her against his warm chest.

Before she could say anything, he started peppering kisses all over her face - her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her chin - making her giggle, his big hands firmly squeezing her lower hips as he settled in her mouth.

"Lookin' so good at this time in the morning." Matt murmurs against his wife’s lips, not stopping himself when cupping her bumcheek in his hand and squeezing. He couldn’t get enough of her.

She was in his pink shirt below her apron - stained with batter, cotton shorts, and her hair in a high bun. He was so fucking attracted to her.

"You look much better." Y/N replies, running her fingers against the light stubble of his chin, her heart melting at all his affection.

Only then did Matt finally place the second bouquet in her hands, along with the larger stuffed bear, murmuring lowly.

"Happy Valentine’s Day, angel."

Y/N smiled, feeling the familiar warmth of her husband and the absolute certainty that she was exactly where she belonged. She traced her fingers over the petals of the flowers, taking in their fresh scent before looking up at Matt, love shining in her eyes.

"They’re beautiful, Matt. Thank you."

"Only the best for m'girls." He said, rubbing his nose against her temple affectionately.

Suddenly, something small and warm crashed into their legs, and when they looked down, there was Morgan, wrapping her little arms around both of them in a tight hug.

Her tiny arms barely managed to reach around them both, but she was trying her best, squeezing them with all her might. She then looked up, her blue eyes shining and her voice sweet.

"Happy Valentie’s Day!!" She said with the biggest smile, her pearly baby teeth showing, eyes looking for approval.

Y/N and Matt shared a knowing look before both of them crouched down, pulling her into a tight hug between them. Matt buried his nose in his daughter's hair while Y/N gently rubbed her back, feeling their little girl’s warmth radiate between them.

"We love you so much, sweetheart." Y/N whispered, kissing her temple.

"Love you mostest!" Morgan declared, squeezing her eyes shut as she hugged them even tighter. "Daddy? Kissy too?" The girl asks her father, her little palm patting his cheek, puckering her pink lips.

"Yes, m'love." Matt obliges, giving her a peck on her skin before blowing a raspberry on her cheek. "Anything f'you."

A/N: This work is mine, and I don't authorize plagiarism; copy or "inspiration"!

─ ୨୧ ! all the love, L 🤍

[luvoooenha]

Lucky charm!

Pairing- Boyfriend! Jake x Girlfriend! Y/N

Summary- Jake, the top soccer player at UNI, always relied on Y/N’s support—until a huge argument left him distracted before a big game. Without her in the stands, he struggled to play, missing shots and worrying his team. Realizing how much he needed her, a teammate called Y/N, who debated but ultimately showed up, looking her best. The moment Jake saw her, his focus returned, and he played like himself again. After the game, they made up, proving that Y/N was truly his lucky charm.

Warnings- FLUFF, FLUFF, FLUFF, anger, angst, arguments, happy couple… (jokes! Not really)

Word count- 1.8k

plsplsplsplsplspls dont copyyy my work!

“You don’t get it, Y/N!” Jake’s voice was sharp, frustration thick in every word.

“Then explain it to me, Jake! Because right now, it feels like I’m the only one trying.” Y/N’s arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her voice shaking between anger and hurt.

Jake let out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You think I don’t care? That I don’t appreciate you?”

Y/N exhaled sharply. “Jake, I’ve been to every single game, every late-night practice, every stupid press conference where they ask you the same questions. And not once have I ever complained.” Her voice broke slightly, but she pushed on. “But the second I bring up how I feel, I’m the bad guy?”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. The look in her eyes—raw and filled with unshed tears—made his chest tighten.

“I can’t keep doing this if you don’t want me here, Jake.”

His stomach twisted. That wasn’t what he wanted at all. But his stupid pride got in the way, and instead of telling her the truth—that he needed her more than anything—he muttered, “Maybe it’s better that way.”

The second the words left his lips, he wanted to take them back.

Y/N’s face fell, her jaw tightening as she nodded slowly. “Okay.”

And just like that, she turned and walked away.

Jake stood frozen, watching her disappear into the night.

He had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

-

The silence between them was louder than anything Jake had ever experienced.

Y/N hadn’t texted. Hadn’t called. Hadn’t shown up to practice.

Jake told himself he was fine. That he could focus better without distractions. But when game day rolled around, it hit him like a freight train.

He jogged onto the field, scanning the stands on instinct. But the seat where she always sat—third row, left side, just behind the team bench—was empty.

His stomach clenched.

He tried to shake it off as the game started, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. His passes were off. His speed felt sluggish. Every shot he took either hit the post, went wide, or was blocked by the keeper.

The frustration built with every mistake, weighing him down like lead.

The final whistle blew, and UNI had lost. Jake barely heard the post-game speech from his coach, too busy replaying every missed opportunity in his head.

When he got back to the locker room, he didn’t even bother taking off his cleats right away. He just sat there, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor.

Jay, his closest teammate, nudged him. “Dude. What’s going on?”

Jake exhaled slowly. “Nothing. Just an off day.”

Jay scoffed. “Nah, man. This is more than that. I’ve never seen you play like this.” He paused. “It’s Y/N, isn’t it?”

Jake didn’t answer.

Jay sighed. “Look, I don’t know what happened, but it’s obvious you’re a wreck without her.”

Jake clenched his jaw. “She’s probably better off.”

Jay rolled his eyes. “Yeah? Then why do you keep looking for her in the stands?”

Jake said nothing.

Jay grabbed his phone. “I’m texting her.”

Jake should’ve stopped him. Should’ve told him to leave it alone.

But he didn’t.

Y/N sat on her bed, knees pulled to her chest, as she mindlessly scrolled through her camera roll. Each swipe brought a new memory, a new reminder of everything she and Jake had been before it all fell apart.

There was a photo of him grinning at her during one of their late-night study sessions, his notes forgotten as he balanced a pencil between his nose and upper lip, trying to make her laugh. She had rolled her eyes at the time, but she could still remember the way her stomach had fluttered when he looked at her like she was the best part of his world.

Another picture—Jake, covered in sweat but grinning like a fool after a big win, his arm slung lazily around her shoulders. She had been laughing, caught mid-cheer, his jersey draped over her like a second skin. She had been so proud of him. She always was.

And then, one of her favorites—a candid shot of them from a lazy Sunday morning. Jake, shirtless and half-asleep, stealing bites of her breakfast as she swatted at his hand, laughing at his shamelessness. His hair had been a mess, his eyes still heavy with sleep, but he had looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered.

Y/N’s chest ached.

She missed him. More than she wanted to admit.

Her fingers hovered over his contact, the familiar urge to text him creeping in. But then, like a cruel reminder, his words echoed in her head.

"Maybe it’s better that way."

She swallowed the lump in her throat, locking her phone. If that was what he wanted, then fine. She wouldn’t be the one to break first.

But then, as if the universe was laughing at her stubbornness, her phone buzzed.

Jay: Jake’s a mess. He needs you. Badly.

Her heart clenched.

She should ignore it. He was the one who pushed her away. He was the one who made her feel like she didn’t matter.

But… if that were true, why was he struggling so much?

Y/N exhaled slowly, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes betrayed her, filled with something she wasn’t ready to name yet.

She could walk away. Let Jake figure this out on his own. Prove to herself that she didn’t need him as much as he needed her.

But that was a lie.

Because no matter how angry or hurt she was… she still loved him.

And she wasn’t sure she ever wouldn’t.

With a resigned sigh, she grabbed her jacket and touched up her makeup.

If she was going, she was going to make an entrance.

She headed out the door, her heart pounding.

Jake needed her.

And whether she liked it or not… she needed him too.

-

Jake jogged onto the field, his mind clouded with doubt.

His body felt heavy, his nerves shot. The last few games had been a disaster, and the weight of failure clung to him like a storm he couldn’t outrun. He tried to shake it off, stretching his arms and bouncing on his feet, but nothing felt right.

Then, instinctively, he looked toward the stands.

And everything stopped.

His breath hitched. His heart stuttered.

Y/N was there.

Sitting in her usual spot—third row, left side, just behind the team bench.

Jake blinked, half-convinced he was imagining it. But no, it was real. She was real.

And damn, she looked good.

Her hair was styled just the way he liked, her makeup subtle but stunning. She wore his favorite shade, the one he always said made her eyes stand out, and even from across the field, he could see the way her lips curved in something between challenge and amusement.

She came.

A rush of energy shot through his veins, the kind he hadn’t felt since before she left. His pulse pounded, but this time, it wasn’t from nerves—it was from something deeper, something electric.

His lucky charm had returned.

And just like that, everything clicked back into place.

The whistle blew, and Jake was unstoppable.

Every pass was precise, every shot powerful. He weaved through defenders with the confidence he’d been missing, his movements sharp and deliberate. The frustration that had been drowning him for days melted away, replaced by pure instinct.

And every time he scored, he didn’t look at the scoreboard. He didn’t look at his teammates.

He looked at her.

Y/N sat there, arms crossed, trying to look unimpressed. But he saw the way her lips twitched, the way her fingers tapped against her thigh. She was proud of him—he knew it.

By the final whistle, UNI had secured the win. The crowd erupted in cheers, his teammates swarming him with congratulations, but Jake barely acknowledged any of it.

His eyes were locked on her.

Without a second thought, he sprinted toward the stands, pushing past the crowd. Y/N had already started making her way down toward the field, and when she stopped in front of him, they just stood there, staring at each other.

For the first time in days, Jake could breathe again.

“I was an idiot.” His voice was breathless, raw. “I didn’t mean any of it, Y/N. I was just—” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. “I was scared. Of how much I need you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, arms still crossed. “Yeah? I figured, considering how hard you flopped without me.”

Jake huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “I deserved that.”

“Damn right, you did.”

A small smile tugged at her lips, but Jake didn’t miss the way her tough exterior wavered, the way her eyes softened just slightly.

He took a step closer. “Y/N, I mean it. I never should’ve pushed you away.” His voice dropped to something quieter, more vulnerable. “You’re everything to me.”

She sighed, finally uncrossing her arms. “Jake… you can’t shut me out when things get hard. That’s not how this works.”

“I know,” he admitted, his gaze never leaving hers. “And I won’t. Ever again.”

Y/N studied him for a long moment, and then, finally, she sighed in defeat. “You’re lucky I like you, Sim.”

Relief crashed over him, and before she could say anything else, he closed the distance, wrapping his arms arowund her and pulling her in tight.

She hesitated for half a second before melting into him, her arms circling his waist.

Jake buried his face in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume, and everything felt right again. “I missed you,” he murmured.

“I know,” she teased, voice muffled against his jersey. “I could tell from your embarrassing game stats.”

He chuckled, pulling back just enough to look at her. “Guess I need you to keep me in check.”

“Clearly.”

Jake reached up, brushing his thumb over her cheek, his voice softer now. “So… does this mean you’ll be at the next game?”

Y/N smirked. “As long as you keep winning.”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to her forehead before whispering, “Then I guess I have no choice.”

Because she wasn’t just his biggest supporter.

She was his lucky charm.

isa note! - lallalala first story!!! lalalall so excited! lalalalalla

taglist~ @firstclassjaylee

if wanted to be tag plspslplspsls let me know! 💗

© luvoooenha on tumblr 2024-2025. please don’t copy, repost, or translate my works! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :)

[anticipatedexhale]

Could you do a drabble of Arcane x rockstar reader? Classic prompt that's been overused 😞

I believe this prompt will never get old darling I absolutely love this idea!!

I'm a Rockstar~~!

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧୨୧

♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, sevika, jayce, jinx, mel, viktor, vi,

☆ ◞ summary: them absolutely being smitten by their Rockstar partner

△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader, the tension is crazy , suggestive like really, I must say Viktors and sevikas parts made me feel smth..

Jayce Talis.

Jayce had never been the type to feel starstruck. He was the golden boy of Piltover, a man who walked into any room and commanded attention without even trying.

And yet, here he was, sitting front row at your concert, absolutely wrecked by the sight of you on stage.

The lights flashed behind you, turning your silhouette into something almost otherworldly. Your voice—strong, sultry, powerful—cut through the air like a drug, and Jayce swore he could feel every word vibrate through his chest.

You weren’t just performing. You were owning the stage, strutting across it with a confidence that made his blood run hot. Your fingers danced along the microphone stand, your outfit hugging every inch of you just right, your movements sharp and fluid all at once. The way you tilted your head, the teasing way your lips curled into a smirk every time you met his gaze—it was all too much.

Jayce sat there, legs spread, arms resting on his thighs, pretending to be composed when, in reality, he was anything but. His fingers twitched against his knee, gripping the fabric of his pants as his jaw clenched.

You knew exactly what you were doing to him.

And you loved it.

Your gaze flickered to him mid-song, and instead of looking away, you leaned into the mic, voice dropping lower, sultrier. “This one goes out to a very special someone tonight…”

Jayce swallowed hard.

His fingers twitched again, his body instinctively shifting in his seat. Fuck.

It wasn’t fair. He was used to being the one people looked at like this. The one who had admirers swooning over him, not the other way around. But you? You had him wrapped around your damn finger, and you knew it.

The concert ended in a blur. He barely registered the cheers, the way the entire crowd was completely enamored with you. The only thing on his mind was you—how fast he could get backstage, how soon he could have you all to himself.

When he finally pushed through the crowd, security recognizing him instantly and letting him through, he found you in your dressing room, still glowing with post-show energy.

“You,” Jayce started, voice thick, heated, as he leaned against the doorframe. “You enjoy torturing me, don’t you?”

You turned, feigning innocence. “Me? Torture you?” You took a step closer, tilting your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jayce.”

His hands were on you before you could say another word, fingers curling around your waist as he pulled you close. His breath was warm against your skin, his lips brushing against your jaw before he murmured, “You know exactly what you do to me.”

Your grin was devastating, a slow, lazy thing that sent a shiver down his spine. “Maybe I do,” you mused, fingers tracing up his chest. “And maybe I like seeing you like this.”

Jayce let out a low, almost pathetic groan, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. “You’re gonna kill me one day, you know that?”

You laughed, hands threading through his hair. “But what a way to go, huh?”

And yeah. Jayce couldn’t even argue with that.

------------------------------------------------

Mel Medarda

Mel Medarda was not the type to lose her composure.

She had spent her entire life mastering the art of control—her words, her expressions, even the subtle tilt of her head that could make men beg for her attention. She played the political game better than anyone, moving through high society like a queen among pawns.

But then she met you.

And you—the reckless, magnetic, wildly talented rockstar who seemed to command the attention of an entire city without even trying—had the audacity to be hers.

Tonight, she sat in a private VIP booth, legs crossed, wine glass in hand, watching as you performed under the blazing stage lights. The world saw you as untouchable, a star burning too brightly to hold. But Mel? She saw the way your gaze kept flickering to her. How, even with thousands of people screaming your name, you sang for her.

The song slowed, the bass humming low through the speakers as you stepped toward the mic, voice dropping into something sultry, teasing.

“This next one,” you said, letting the words roll lazily off your tongue, “is dedicated to someone very special in the audience tonight.”

Mel raised a brow, lips curving into a knowing smirk as you lifted your hand and pointed directly at her.

A murmur ran through the crowd, people turning to try and spot who had caught your attention. Some guessed, some whispered, but Mel? She simply sipped her wine and held your gaze, unfazed.

You lived for the way her expression never wavered—cool, controlled, elegant. Unshaken. But you also knew better.

You knew how to crack that perfect, composed shell of hers.

So you turned away from the mic, running a hand through your hair, letting the sweat from the performance cling to your skin in a way you knew would drive her insane. Then, as the guitar hummed in the background, you let your fingers drag down your chest, slow and teasing, as if tracing where her hands would be if she weren’t across the room.

Mel exhaled through her nose, slow and measured, shifting in her seat.

Oh, she was seething.

Not in anger—no, Mel Medarda didn’t get angry over things like this. But she did get possessive.

She let you play your little game. Let you soak in the crowd’s adoration, let you tease and smirk and act like the stage belonged to you (which, to be fair, it did). But the second the show ended?

She was waiting for you.

You barely made it three steps backstage before her hand caught your wrist, tugging you aside into the privacy of an empty dressing room. The door clicked shut behind you, the hum of the concert still ringing in your ears as you turned, grinning.

“Enjoy the show?” you asked, feigning innocence.

Mel tilted her head, gaze sharp as she stepped closer. “You enjoy making a spectacle of yourself, don’t you?”

Your grin widened. “Only for you.”

She studied you for a moment, eyes trailing over the way your chest still heaved from the adrenaline, the way your hair was slightly damp from the stage lights. Then, without a word, she reached up and dragged her thumb across your lower lip, slow and deliberate.

A shiver ran down your spine.

“You drive me to madness,” she murmured, her voice impossibly smooth, like velvet and steel wrapped into one. "And you know it."

The air between you thickened, the tension sharp enough to cut. You swallowed, throat suddenly dry, but you refused to back down. “Maybe I do.”

Her fingers traced lower, featherlight, trailing over your pulse, her touch both gentle and possessive. “And what should I do with you now?”

The question sent a delicious shiver down your spine, but before you could answer, her lips brushed against yours—not quite a kiss, just a ghost of contact, enough to send heat pooling low in your stomach.

Then she pulled away.

“Come home with me,” she murmured, voice softer now, quieter. “I’d rather have your voice just for myself tonight.”

Your breath hitched.

You could handle teasing, the playful power struggles, the tension, but this? This was something deeper.

This was Mel Medarda wanting you—not just to chase, not just to possess, but to be with you.

And for the first time tonight, you were the one caught off guard.

------------------------------------------------

Viktor.

Viktor wasn’t one for loud crowds.

He wasn’t the type to thrive in the flashing lights, the deafening cheers, or the overwhelming press of bodies all moving as one. He spent his days buried in blueprints and research, lost in the quiet hum of his own thoughts.

But for you?

He would endure the storm.

Because even though concerts weren’t his scene, you were.

So now, he found himself standing at the edge of the stage, tucked away from the madness of the crowd, cane resting against his leg as he watched you move under the lights.

And damn—you were breathtaking.

Not just because of how you looked up there, all fire and confidence, a force commanding the attention of an entire stadium. But because this—this—was your element. The way your body moved with the music, the way your voice carried through the speakers, raw and unfiltered, sent something sharp curling in his chest.

Viktor had spent his life chasing brilliance, seeking genius in numbers and theories. But tonight, you were the most brilliant thing he’d ever seen.

The song shifted into something slower, the guitars easing into a sultry rhythm, and you turned just slightly—just enough that your eyes found him through the haze of stage lights.

Viktor barely had time to react before you did something utterly, devastatingly reckless.

You jumped down.

Right off the damn stage.

The crowd roared, and Viktor’s heart nearly stopped as security scrambled, but you just laughed, weaving through the fans like you belonged among them. The sea of people parted for you, hands reaching, voices calling, but you weren’t stopping for them.

You were walking straight to him.

Viktor’s grip on his cane tightened. His brain short-circuited as you strode through the VIP section with that effortless, infuriating confidence—grinning, sweat still clinging to your skin from the stage lights, a live wire of energy.

Then you were there, standing in front of him, so close he could see every rapid rise and fall of your chest.

“Thought you weren’t coming,” you murmured, voice teasing, but your eyes—your eyes were something else.

Viktor swallowed thickly, forcing himself to breathe. “Somehow, I think you would’ve found me anyway.”

Your grin widened. “Of course I would.”

And before he could get another word in, before he could even process what was happening, you grabbed the front of his vest and kissed him.

The crowd screamed.

The music surged.

And Viktor? Viktor forgot how to think.

Your lips were warm, demanding, still buzzing with the adrenaline of the performance. He knew he should pull away, should say something, do something, but all he could do was brace himself against his cane and fall into you.

You broke away just enough to whisper, “You look good in the spotlight.”

Viktor let out something between a laugh and a groan, shaking his head as heat curled at the tips of his ears. “I think you might be trying to kill me.”

You pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth, softer this time. “Not yet.”

Then, just as quickly as you came, you stepped back, flashing him one last wicked grin before turning and jogging right back onto the damn stage.

Viktor exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, his mind struggling to catch up.

The scientist in him despised the lack of logic in how you made him feel.

But the man in him?

He was completely, utterly ruined for you.

------------------------------------------------

Caitlyn kiramman

Caitlyn had been raised in a world of refinement—strict etiquette, hushed conversations over expensive wine, and appearances that had to be meticulously maintained.

Which is why she had no idea what the hell she was doing here.

The room throbbed with bass, the crowd a sea of energy, bodies pressed together as the lights cast dazzling colors across the venue. The air smelled like sweat, spilled drinks, and electricity.

And yet, despite the overwhelming chaos of it all, Caitlyn couldn’t focus on anything but you.

You, standing on that stage, confidence oozing from every motion, every note you sang, every teasing smirk you shot toward the audience.

You weren’t just performing—you were owning the damn room.

Caitlyn knew she was staring, but she didn’t care.

She had been raised to maintain her composure, to keep her emotions in check. But watching you up there, commanding thousands of people’s attention, only to flick your gaze right at her between verses? It did something dangerous to her.

She should have been used to it by now. You flirted with everyone—the audience, the cameras, your bandmates. It was just part of your stage persona.

But damn it, when you locked eyes with her and winked before hitting the next note, Caitlyn felt her heart stutter.

She needed a drink.

---

The concert ended in a blur of flashing lights and roaring applause, but Caitlyn didn’t move from her spot near the back.

She waited.

Security was already guiding you off the stage, fans still chanting your name as you disappeared behind the curtains.

A moment later, her earpiece crackled.

"Your VIP pass still gets you back here, Kiramman."

She rolled her eyes at the teasing lilt in your voice but didn’t hesitate to slip past the barriers, her polished boots clicking against the concrete floor as she strode toward your dressing room.

She found you exactly how she expected—leaning against the vanity, still glowing from the performance, towel draped over your shoulders, hair damp with sweat.

And grinning at her.

“You should really sit further up next time,” you mused, tilting your head as she stepped inside. “I could barely see you from back there.”

Caitlyn scoffed, crossing her arms. “I was trying not to be a distraction.”

Your smirk widened. “Oh, love, you think you’re the distraction?”

She arched a brow. “Considering you nearly tripped over a speaker when you saw me in the audience last time?”

You let out a groan, dragging a hand down your face. “That was one time—”

“—And the crew hasn’t let you live it down since.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, but the corners of your lips twitched. “Okay, detective. You win this round.”

She took a step closer, tilting her head. “There are rounds now?”

“Always.” You leaned in, lowering your voice. “And I fully intend to even the score.”

Caitlyn felt her pulse quicken, but she kept her expression unreadable. “And how do you plan to do that?”

Without missing a beat, you reached for the towel on your shoulders and, with an utterly shameless grin, tossed it at her.

Caitlyn let out a startled noise as the damp fabric smacked against her, the heat from your skin still clinging to it.

You laughed—really laughed, the sound warm and utterly carefree—before stepping closer, plucking the towel from her hands before she could react. “Don’t look so scandalized, officer. I thought you’d be used to a little sweat.”

Caitlyn narrowed her eyes, but her lips betrayed her, curving into something dangerously close to a smirk. “Oh, I don’t mind a little sweat.”

Your eyebrows lifted in interest, but before you could throw out another flirty remark, she turned the tables on you.

She reached forward, grabbing the front of your shirt, and yanked you in.

Your breath hitched as she leaned in, voice dropping to a murmur against your ear.

“You’re still a bit breathless,” she noted, feigning concern. “Hope I wasn’t too much of a distraction.”

You swallowed hard. “You’re always a distraction.”

Her smirk widened. “Good.”

Then, before you could regain control of the situation, she pressed a kiss to the edge of your jaw—just enough to leave you completely off balance—before stepping back with an infuriating amount of poise.

You blinked. “You little shit—”

“See you at the next show,” she said smoothly, already walking toward the door.

And just as she reached for the handle, she threw one last glance over her shoulder, smirking.

“Score: Kiramman—one.”

Then she was gone, leaving you standing in the middle of the dressing room, utterly wrecked.

“...Oh, it is so on.”

------------------------------------------------

Vi.

Vi wasn’t exactly used to this kind of scene.

Sure, she’d been to her fair share of rowdy clubs and underground fights—places where the air buzzed with adrenaline and the energy made your bones vibrate.

But this?

This was a whole different kind of chaos.

She stood at the very edge of the packed venue, arms crossed, boots planted firmly on the ground as she watched you command the stage like you were born for it.

And damn—maybe you were.

Vi wasn’t the type to get all poetic, but shit, you were a sight.

Sweat clung to your skin under the flashing lights, your voice carried through the speakers with that raw edge that made people feel something. Every movement, every glance, every grin sent the crowd into a frenzy.

And the way you owned it?

It made her chest tighten in the best and worst ways.

Because while everyone else in the room was watching you like you were some untouchable star, she knew the version of you that crawled into bed at ridiculous hours, the one who bitched about setlists and late-night rehearsals, the one who stole her shirts and stretched them out just to mess with her.

And yet, every time she saw you up there, looking like you belonged in this chaos, she found herself falling all over again.

Which was why she wasn’t even surprised when you did something completely reckless.

Because, of course, you did.

---

You should have known better.

Vi was already giving you that look from the sidelines—the one that screamed, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Naturally, you did something stupid.

“Let’s make this interesting,” you called into the mic, and the crowd roared as you hopped off the stage without warning, security scrambling to keep up.

Vi groaned, running a hand down her face. You are going to be the death of me.

You waded through the crowd effortlessly, high-fiving fans, grinning as people reached out, soaking in the energy. And then—just to push your luck—you made your way straight toward her.

Vi could feel the heat of a thousand eyes on her the moment you grinned and grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her forward.

“C’mon, Vi,” you purred into the mic, the teasing lilt in your voice making her stomach drop. “You’re not scared of a little fun, are you?”

Vi arched a brow. “Oh, you’re a menace.”

But she let you pull her in anyway.

The band picked up a steady rhythm, and before she could even process what was happening, you slid an arm around her waist and—

Oh.

You were dancing with her.

Not just moving—dancing. Slow, teasing movements, your body pressed against hers, the heat of your skin seeping through the thin material of her shirt. The crowd screamed, people losing their minds as you twirled her once, keeping your grip firm.

Vi could handle fights, she could handle explosions, she could handle damn near anything—

But this?

This was just unfair.

She should be annoyed. She should be cussing you out for pulling this stunt in front of thousands of people.

Instead, she found herself smirking.

“You’re playing with fire, babe,” she murmured, her voice low enough that only you could hear.

You grinned. “Lucky for me, you’re fireproof.”

Oh, you were gonna pay for that.

With a wicked glint in her eye, Vi suddenly flipped the script—yanking you flush against her, dipping you low enough that you gasped into the mic.

The crowd lost their minds.

And then—just because she could—Vi dipped her head and kissed you, deep and slow, right there in front of everyone.

You barely had time to recover before she pulled back with a smirk, letting go just as fast as she’d grabbed you.

“Better get back up there, rockstar,” she teased, stepping back as you blinked up at her, dazed. “You’ve got a show to finish.”

You swallowed hard, eyes flickering between her and the screaming crowd.

“…Holy shit,” you muttered under your breath.

Vi just winked.

------------------------------------------------

Jinx.

"Beautiful, Beautiful Chaos" (Jinx x Rockstar!GN!Reader | Reckless Love, Wild Nights, and Kissing in the Mayhem)

---

Jinx wasn’t the type to sit still.

Not in a fight, not during a job, and definitely not in a crowd of sweaty, screaming people losing their minds over you.

She thrived in chaos, lived for it, breathed it in like air.

And tonight?

Tonight was the kind of chaos she loved.

Neon lights flashed across the stage, strobes flickering as you jumped onto an amp, mic gripped tight in your hand, voice cutting through the thick, electric air of the underground venue. The bass thundered through the floor, shaking the ground beneath her feet.

Jinx wasn’t watching the crowd.

She was watching you.

Because—fuck—you looked so good when you lost yourself in the music. When you screamed into the mic, when your body moved like you didn’t care if the world fell apart around you.

You had that wild look in your eyes.

The same kind of reckless, untamed spark that made her chest tighten and her pulse race.

God, you were so—

“YO, YOU LITTLE SHITS WANNA HAVE SOME FUN?”

Your voice rang out over the speakers, wild and breathless.

The crowd roared.

Jinx grinned.

Oh, she knew that tone. That devious, impulsive tone that meant things were about to get stupid.

And Jinx loved stupid.

She pushed herself up on her toes, trying to get a better view as you suddenly jumped off the damn stage—barreling straight into the crowd, no hesitation, no security, just pure adrenaline-fueled insanity.

"OH, FOR FUCK’S SAKE—"

Jinx shoved her way forward as you disappeared into the chaos, people screaming, hands grabbing for you, the whole place erupting into something unhinged.

A bottle smashed somewhere. Someone tripped over a speaker. A guy with a mohawk straight-up passed out from excitement.

And in the middle of it?

You.

Grinning like a maniac, letting the crowd carry you, singing the last chorus like you didn’t have a single fucking care in the world.

Jinx didn’t even realize she was moving until she was right there in front of you—arms crossed, head tilted, looking so unimpressed despite the fact that she was definitely impressed.

You grinned, still breathless. “What’s wrong, trouble? Didn’t think I’d come to you instead?”

Jinx rolled her eyes. “You’re insane.”

“Yeah?” You leaned in,“You like it.”

Jinx didn’t like it.

Jinx loved it.

But she’d rather die than say it out loud.

So instead, she did what she did best.

She grabbed your face and kissed you stupid.

Right there.

In the middle of the chaos, with neon lights flashing and people screaming and beer spilling onto the floor.

You gasped into her mouth before melting into it, arms sliding around her waist, your body pressing flush against hers like you wanted to burn the moment into your skin.

And Jinx?

Jinx just smirked against your lips.

Because, yeah.

Maybe she did like this.

Maybe she loved it.

And maybe—just maybe—she was never gonna let you go.

------------------------------------------------

Sevika.

The venue was packed, the air thick with anticipation. You had the crowd eating out of the palm of your hand, your voice cutting through the bass, a raw, magnetic presence on stage. The lights flickered in sync with the beat, flashing as your body moved effortlessly with the rhythm, the mic gripped in your hand like you were born to hold it.

And Sevika? Well, she was front and center, standing just off to the side, watching you with an intensity that almost felt suffocating. Her posture was rigid, her arms crossed, her gaze never once leaving you.

Her heavy, leather-clad frame was nearly a stark contrast to your energy—wild, chaotic, and untamed as you commanded the stage. But you knew what she was thinking. Knew that under all that tough exterior, there was a fire. A fire that you had kindled long ago.

And tonight? That fire was burning brighter than ever.

---

The song ended, and the crowd erupted into a roaring applause. You took a breath, your chest heaving with exertion, sweat dripping down your neck. But you weren’t done yet.

With a wicked grin, you grabbed the mic, looking straight at Sevika.

“You think you can keep up, big girl?” you teased, voice dripping with playful arrogance.

Sevika’s lips curled into a smirk, but there was a cold, almost predatory glint in her eyes. “I could do this all day,” she muttered, her voice low, the words meant just for you.

The crowd was still cheering, but all you cared about in that moment was the tension that was crackling between you and Sevika. You’d both been dancing around it for so long—the chemistry, the constant pull, the teasing glances, the silent challenges that never seemed to break. But tonight? Tonight you were done playing games.

You took a few steps toward the edge of the stage, reaching out for her, pulling her closer. The crowd was still lost in the music, the band riffing off to the side, but all that mattered now was her—her and the way she looked at you like she wanted to devour you whole.

Sevika’s large hand gripped your wrist with a firm, almost possessive force, pulling you into her space. She towered over you, but her breath was steady, controlled, as if she was trying to hold back a flood of desire.

“You think you can just waltz in here and—”

Before she could finish, you closed the distance, your lips crashing into hers. The kiss was fierce, hungry—no longer playful, but desperate. Your body pressed against hers, and you could feel the tension in her muscles, the way she resisted just enough to drive you crazy. But you weren’t having it. You needed her. And you weren’t going to stop until you had her.

Sevika’s hand slid down your back, gripping your waist with a force that left your breath stolen. She pulled you closer, her lips moving against yours with urgency, heat building between you both. Her other hand threaded into your hair, tugging you even closer, pulling you deeper into the kiss like she couldn’t get enough.

You gasped when she bit your lip, just enough to make you shiver. “You’re playing with fire,” Sevika growled, her voice raw, breath hot against your skin.

And all you could do was smirk up at her, feeling the thrill of the chase. “I’ve never been afraid of fire,” you whispered back.

Without warning, Sevika spun you around, pushing you against the nearest wall backstage, her body pressing against yours, heat radiating off of her. She leaned in close, her lips brushing your ear as her breath ghosted over your skin. “If you think this is just a game,” she murmured, “you’re wrong.”

Your hands found their way to her chest, tracing the muscles hidden beneath her leather jacket. “Then stop playing and show me,” you dared her, your voice low, taunting.

The air between you crackled with electric tension, both of you pushing, pulling, testing the boundaries until it felt like something was going to break. Sevika’s lips hovered dangerously close to yours, her breathing ragged, as if she was barely holding herself together.

And then she leaned in, capturing your lips again, deeper this time—no more teasing, no more games. It was as if the kiss itself was a release, a breaking point of every silent moment between you, every want you both kept locked away.

When she finally pulled away, she smirked down at you, her voice a dangerous whisper, “This is just the beginning, sweetheart.” Her hands were already trailing down your sides, her lips just inches from yours, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

---

Back on stage, you finished the set with a wicked grin. You knew you’d both be facing the aftermath of that moment soon. But for now, the music carried on, and you knew Sevika was right where she belonged—on the edge of control.

And you? You were done being patient. Tonight, there would be no more running from this intensity.

The chaos had only just begun.

[lovelymylene]

happy VALENTINE

70s teenage dirtbag hamzah and reader

The radio hummed low and warm, a crackling thread of music weaving through the quiet of the car. Hamzah’s fingers tapped absently against the steering wheel, rings clicking against the worn leather, but his mind wasn’t on the road, wasn’t on much of anything except the girl beside him, laughing softly at something he said five minutes ago.

The car smelled like her perfume, like jasmine and something sweet, mingling with the faintest trace of cigarette smoke and the lilies resting in her lap. She had been staring at them ever since he gave them to her, running delicate fingers along the petals, like she couldn’t believe they were hers.

“Didn’t think I was the type, huh?” he had teased when she first saw the flowers, the stuffed bunny, the little box of chocolate-covered strawberries from his cousin’s bakery.

“No, I just didn’t think you’d actually try this hard,” she smirked, but there had been something softer in her eyes, something he recognized.

Hamzah had never cared much for Valentine’s Day. It always seemed like a scam, a way for people to convince themselves they were in love for the price of a heart-shaped box. But her? She changed things. If she wanted lilies and chocolate and soft things wrapped in ribbons, then he’d give her all of it. He’d give her more.

So now, they were nowhere. Just a stretch of road fading into darkness, the distant hum of the city swallowed by trees and open sky. He pulled off onto a hill, parking beneath a massive oak tree, its branches twisting against the stars.

“Is this what you do with all your dates?” she teased, turning to face him.

“Nah,” he grinned, leaning back against his seat, hands loose in his lap. “Just you.”

Her smile wavered, just for a second, but he caught it. She didn’t know how to take it when he was sincere, when he let his guard slip. He kind of liked that.

The car ticked softly as the engine cooled, the wind slipping through the cracked windows. She peeled open the box of strawberries, picking one up and holding it to her lips before pausing. “You sure you don’t want one?”

“I got ‘em for you, sweetheart. Knock yourself out.”

She rolled her eyes, biting into the fruit, the chocolate cracking softly under her teeth. Hamzah watched her, eyes half-lidded, something lazy and fond resting in his gaze.

“Alright, now you gotta try one,” she insisted, plucking another from the box and holding it out for him.

He smirked, leaning forward, but instead of taking it from her fingers, he just bit into it, teeth gently biting her fingertips.

She gasped, pulling her hand back. “Hamzah!”

“What?” he mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah,” he swallowed, licking his lips, “but you like me.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.

The music played on, soft and unintrusive, some old soul song he didn’t know the name of. Outside, the world stretched on in every direction, but inside the car, it was just them.

He reached for her hand without thinking, just feeling the need to touch, to hold. She let him, fingers curling easily around his.

“You’re warm,” she murmured.

“You always say that.”

“Because you always are.”

She turned to him, fully now, shifting so one leg tucked beneath her. The moonlight poured in through the windshield, catching in her eyes, making them gleam.

“You’re staring,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” his voice was lower now, rougher. “What about it?”

She didn’t answer, just tugged on his collar, pulling him in, slow and unhurried. Their lips met in a kiss that started soft but deepened quickly, something languid and melting, like heat unfurling in the cold night air. His hand found the side of her face, thumb tracing the curve of her cheek, while her fingers slipped into his hair, tugging, teasing.

He sighed into her mouth, pulling her closer, like he could fold her into himself, keep her there. The world outside didn’t exist. Just her lips, her breath, the way she tasted like chocolate and strawberries and something he could never quite name.

“You really didn’t have to do all this,” she murmured against his lips.

“I know,” he whispered, kissing her again, softer this time. “But I wanted to.”

@issysh3ll

Happy Valentine’s Day my loves🎀

taglist.. @italiansunsetss @b1gba113r @sylvanianngirl @st7rnioioss-alt @sincerelykelsss @throatgoat4u @wiseladypoetry @gracieabrmslvr @sweetangelgirl7 @pearlzier @1-hypegvrl @piperrrr-16 @mackyyyk @luna443 @flowerxbunnie @cwemetrys @calliepie @cupidsword @notaboutlovebyfiona @recklesssturniolo @littlebookworm803 @blissfulxsins @camsturnz @st7rnioioss @rempessturniolo

[tqlepatia]

─ BETTER LATE THAN NEVER .ᐟ .

- ❝ Mild angst, guilt, late Valentine’s Day surprise, lots of fluff, Sevika being a workaholic but making up for it.❞

The day had been a blur of work, papers, and endless discussions. Sevika barely had time to breathe between meetings, her mind occupied with council matters, trade agreements, and the usual bureaucratic nonsense. She barely registered the time until one of the other council members, shoola said,

"Aren't you worried your wife is upset? I mean… it is Valentine’s Day, after all."

Sevika froze.

Valentine’s Day.

Her heart sank. She hadn’t even sent a message. No flowers, no quick “I love you,” nothing. She’d been so buried in work that she had completely forgotten.

She muttered a curse under her breath, gathering her papers in a rush. The moment the meeting ended, she bolted out of the council chambers, pushing past people as she made a beeline for home.

The house was dark when she arrived. No warm glow of candlelight, no soft music playing in the background—just silence. The scent of food lingered faintly in the air, though it had gone cold.

Sevika swallowed the lump in her throat as she took in the sight of half-deflated balloons slumped in the corner, their bright colors now dull in the dim room. She sighed, running a hand through her hair before making her way to the kitchen.

Opening the fridge, she was met with neatly packed containers of food—dishes she knew you had spent hours making. Everything labeled, everything carefully stored so it wouldn’t go to waste.

She felt like absolute shit.

Her heavy boots barely made a sound as she climbed the stairs, already dreading what she’d find. And there you were, curled up in bed, buried under the blankets, breathing softly in the quiet of the night. The dim light from the window cast a soft glow on your face, peaceful in sleep, but Sevika could see the dried mascara smudged at the corners of your eyes.

She clenched her jaw. Guilt gnawed at her as she grabbed the blanket at the foot of the bed and gently draped it over you, tucking it in around your shoulders. You deserved better than this.

She stripped out of her work clothes, took a quick shower to wash off the exhaustion of the day, and slipped under the covers beside you. Careful not to wake you, she reached out, letting her fingers trail lightly along your arm before pressing her forehead against your shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” she whispered, voice thick with regret. “I should’ve been here. I should’ve—” She exhaled sharply, her breath warm against your skin. “I love you. I love you so much, and I fucked up. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You stirred slightly, shifting to face her, your sleepy eyes barely open as you hummed, “S’fine, Sev…”

But it wasn’t fine.

Sevika stayed awake long after you drifted back into sleep, her mind racing with ways to fix this.

She was up before the sun the next morning.

It was her day off, and she intended to make up for yesterday in every possible way.

The first stop was the flower shop down the street. She picked out your favorite ones, making sure they were fresh, vibrant—the way you deserved them to be. Then she made a quick detour to a jewelry store, her eyes scanning the cases until she found it: a delicate necklace, simple yet elegant, one that perfectly matched the earrings she had given you a while back.

And, of course, there was the last thing. The thing you had been asking for for months now.

By the time she got home, the sun was just starting to rise, casting golden light through the windows. She carefully placed the flowers in a vase, set the small velvet box on the counter, and finally, set down the small pet carrier, where a sleepy kitten blinked up at her with wide, curious eyes.

Sevika smirked, scratching behind its ears before making her way upstairs.

You were still curled up in bed, the blankets tangled around you. Sevika sat on the edge of the mattress, brushing a few strands of hair from your face before leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple.

“Baby,” she murmured, voice warm and low. “Wake up.”

You groaned, stretching slightly before blinking up at her, your voice still groggy. “What…?”

Sevika smirked. “I got something for you.”

You sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. And that’s when you saw it—the flowers, the box, and, most importantly, the tiny kitten now climbing onto Sevika’s lap, letting out a tiny meow.

Your eyes widened, and Sevika chuckled as she handed the kitten over to you. “Happy late Valentine’s Day, angel.”

You gasped, holding the little fluffball close. “No way. No way. You actually—,vika oh my god.” You grinned, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before nuzzling into the kitten.

Sevika watched you with a small smile, then grabbed the necklace box, flipping it open. “Figured this might go with those earrings you love,” she murmured, placing it into your hand.

Your breath hitched slightly as you looked at the delicate chain, your heart swelling.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you said softly, looking up at her with nothing but love in your eyes.

“I did,” Sevika corrected, reaching up to cup your cheek. “Because I don’t ever want you to think I take you for granted. I know I messed up, and I hate that I hurt you.” She exhaled, her thumb stroking your cheek. “So let me make it up to you, yeah?”

You smiled, leaning into her touch. “You already have.”

Sevika pulled you into a slow, lingering kiss, the kitten trapped between both of you as you laughed softly against her lips.

You kissed Sevika again, slower this time, your fingers threading into her damp hair, still smelling faintly of soap and something unmistakably her. She hummed into the kiss, her hand resting warm on the back of your neck, pulling you just a little closer.

The kitten mewed between you both, wriggling slightly, and you both broke apart with a soft chuckle.

“Guess we’ve got company now,” Sevika murmured, watching as the tiny creature nestled into the crook of your arm.

You cradled the little ball of fur, scratching behind its ears. “I can’t believe you actually got me a cat.”

Sevika smirked. “You’ve been begging for fucking months. Figured I’d stop pretending I wasn’t gonna cave eventually.”

You bit your lip, glancing at her. “Did you name them?”

She shook her head. “Figured I’d let you do that.”

You looked down at the tiny kitten, stroking its soft fur. After a moment, you smiled. “How about Lucky?”

Sevika raised a brow. “Lucky?”

You nodded, meeting her gaze. “Because I feel pretty damn lucky right now".

Something softened in her expression, and she leaned in, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “Cheesy,” she murmured, lips lingering against your skin. “But I like it.”

You grinned, tucking the kitten into the blanket before turning back to the little velvet box still resting between you. Carefully, you lifted the delicate necklace from its case, running your fingers over the cool metal. “Put it on me?”

Sevika nodded, taking the chain from you. You turned, pulling your hair to the side as she gently clasped it around your neck, her fingers brushing against your skin. Her touch lingered for a moment longer than necessary, and you felt the warmth of her breath against your shoulder.

“Looks good on you,” she murmured.

You turned back around, smiling up at her. “You always pick the best gifts.”

She huffed a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Not always. Sometimes I forget the most important ones.”

Your gaze softened, reaching up to cup her cheek. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

She exhaled, leaning into your touch, her eyes searching yours as if making sure you really meant it. And you did. Sevika wasn’t perfect—she worked too much, forgot things, and sometimes got caught up in her own head—but she loved you. She loved you enough to make up for her mistakes, enough to always try.

And that was enough.

“Come on,” you said, nudging her lightly. “We still have an entire Valentine’s dinner sitting in the fridge. Help me heat it up?"

Sevika smirked. “Anything for you, love.”

Together, you made your way downstairs, Lucky trailing behind you with tiny, eager steps. Sevika rolled up her sleeves, pulling out the food containers as you grabbed plates. The kitchen filled with the comforting sounds of soft laughter, the clinking of dishes, the warmth of home.

And as you sat together, sharing a meal in the early morning light, you realized that maybe, this was even better than a perfect Valentine’s Day.