#I’m really proud with this one a ton

[cyber-streak-extra]

:) The ITP: Happy Ending AU was made by @maraariana01

Title: A Fun Time... Only For The Bear

Description: Ralpho and Oswald’s time with Funtime Freddy quickly worsens——especially for the rabbit. Spring Bonnie searches.

(TW: Blood)

(TW: Injury)

Spring Bonnie flinched, sitting upright on the couch now, rather than leaning against the back of it. Quickly, the bunny began to look around—and at himself.

Both remnant and agony were leaking from him—but he barely paid that any attention. Instead, first, he stared down at his hands. They were shaking.

However, he noticed a lack of anything red on them—and Spring Bonnie relaxed ever so slightly. He didn’t have any blood. There wasn’t any blood on him.

Yet the bunny wasn’t calmed entirely. Oswald! Ralpho! Spring Bonnie hurriedly began looking around further. And, thankfully, it didn’t take too long to spot them both.

They were both beside him on the couch. Ralpho was laying down, his eyes closed. Spring Bonnie knew that he could sleep, but he wasn’t sure if he was or not.

It wasn’t that hard to find where Oswald was. The boy was laying across the rabbit’s stomach. And while he wasn’t sure about Ralpho, he knew Oswald was asleep—he could hear him snoring.

Spring Bonnie glanced at the TV, and then back at them. The three had settled for watching a movie together—but it hadn’t been a rom-com. Instead, it had been an action movie that Oswald liked.

Moving closer, the bunny gently hugged them both—not wanting to wake either of them up. Yet, a moment after he started the hug, Ralpho’s eyes opened.

Spring Bonnie didn’t notice anything until he heard the rabbit speak. “Honey Bun?”

The bunny pulled away from the hug, but he remained right by Ralpho’s side. Spring Bonnie messed with his coat for a moment, unsure what to do. He was just relieved.

Ralpho slowly sat himself up, though he kept the sleeping Oswald right where he was, adjusting the boy slightly. He didn’t want to wake him, either.

“Everything fine, Springy?” Ralpho questioned, ears twitching slowly.

He watched the bunny start writing—although he was trying to keep the remnant and agony from staining the paper.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Ralpho added after a moment. He’d never seen the bunny sleep, but he still figured that all of this was possible.

Spring Bonnie paused for a moment. Then, he erased whatever he had already been writing, and began writing something else. Ralpho waited.

“Not really. But, it felt like one.” Spring Bonnie wrote. He was never all that sure on how to explain what happened. He had them every now and then, but he never fully explained it.

He had flashbacks—flashbacks of what happened back at the pizzeria when he had used him. And they were just that—flashbacks. Typically.

The flashbacks already weren’t the greatest—but every so often, something in them would be different. Oswald would be there. He’d see him. He’d see... Ralpho there, too. He’d see both of them.

They felt like nightmares—from what he knew about them—but they weren’t. They weren’t.

“Something... bad happened. Something bad happened to you and Oswald.” The bunny added after a moment. He saw them both hurt. He saw them both motionless.

He remembered their faces before they were motionless—they both had looked confused. Terrified. Hurt. The kids—Ralpho—Oswald—none of them had seen him. They just saw him.

Ralpho frowned. He moved a little closer, wrapping an arm around Spring Bonnie—the other was being used to keep the sleeping Oswald in place.

“I’m here, Honey Bun. Oz is, too.” He glanced down at the boy, before back up at Spring Bonnie. “I’m okay, he’s okay. We’re both okay.” He’d never been the greatest at comforting—but he wanted to get better for the bunny.

“Honey Bun, nothing bad’ll happen to us,” He tried to reassure him. Ralpho moved closer, giving Spring Bonnie a kiss on the cheek. “We’re A-OK, Springy.”

Spring Bonnie leaned against Ralpho. I’m glad you are. The bunny’s ears lowered ever so slightly. I don’t know what I would do if something like that happened.

...

Gripping the hat tightly, Spring Bonnie managed to make himself stand up. He glanced towards the building. He made his way towards the front door.

As he opened the door, he had to bend down to actually get inside—and while doing so, Spring Bonnie placed the hat over his ears, placing it on his head. He wouldn’t lose it that way.

Looking around, he almost didn’t see anyone—but Jeff popped up from behind the counter. What he was doing didn’t matter to Spring Bonnie. He made his way to the man.

After hearing heavy footsteps, Jeff looked up. He blinked at the distressed bunny. “What do you want?” The man tiredly asked.

Spring Bonnie stood there, hurriedly writing something on the notepad, before turning it to the man. It was stained with agony and remnant, but it was still readable.

“Who came here?”

The man sighed. “Nobody, really. Except for that boy of yours, and that rabbit, too.” He shrugged a little bit. “Why?”

He watched with a frown as Spring Bonnie began writing again—this time, a little faster. He also watched the remnant and agony drip onto the floor.

“Did you hear or see anything strange?” Spring Bonnie held onto the counter, ears twitching.

Jeff thought about it for a moment, before nodding. “Uh... yeah, I did. About an hour ago or so, I think.”

Spring Bonnie’s grip on the counter tightened at what he heard next. “Heard some noises- some laughter. Went out to go check, and I saw this broken bear leaving with some people.”

...

The giggling bear tightened his grip around Ralpho’s neck. The rabbit didn’t need to breathe, but it still hurt. “Trying to protect Little Ocelot, hm?” The bear spoke in his glitchy voice.

For a moment, he glanced between the rabbit in his grasp and the boy. “Oz!” Ralpho looked, too. “You need t-“ He was silenced when the bear slammed him down.

Lifting Ralpho back up into the air, Funtime Freddy continued. “Maybe I should kill you first, Stuffy Rabbit. That way, I can choose a way for Little Ocelot without you bothering me!”

Funtime Freddy hummed thoughtfully. He looked back down at where he was keeping Oswald. “Say, Little Ocelot... what do you do with a stuffed animal? What should you do?” He smirked.

“L... Love them?”

“Wrong!” Funtime Freddy cackled. “You shouldn’t do that! Instead, Little Ocelot, you should tear them apart!”

“W-What are you-“ Ralpho yelped as he was slammed against the nearby wall. Funtime Freddy kept him in place with his hand-less arm.

Funtime Freddy was giggling excitedly as he reached down with his hand, and grabbed Ralpho’s entire left leg. His grip was tight.

The bear began tugging and pulling. Ralpho gasped. The rabbit tried pushing Funtime Freddy away from him—tried breaking free from his grasp—but it was useless.

He only stopped for a moment when Oswald started rushing over, wanting to try and help Ralpho—only to get shoved away by Funtime Freddy. He returned his focus on the orange rabbit.

“I’ve heard that rabbit’s have lucky feet...” He giggled, his massive grin growing. “I wonder if the whole leg is, too...”

Funtime Freddy tugged. He tugged. He pulled. After a few seconds...

Ralpho screamed. He screamed. his eyes widening and filling with tears that were already beginning to spill. Blood spilled out after the final tug, getting all over the ground.

Funtime Freddy just laughed. It was like music to his ears—he’d never heard someone scream like this before. It sounded so great. It made him laugh again.

Ralpho had felt pain before. He’d felt it before—like when his arm got torn once—that ended up stinging. Despite his previous interactions with pain, he’d never felt something like this.

Funtime Freddy looked away from the shaking rabbit, and towards Oswald. The boy was frozen, staring at the two, a hand over his mouth.

Looking back at the shaking rabbit, he dropped the leg on the ground. He’d pick it back up later—when he would leave. Maybe it would be a lucky thing.

“That was exciting!” Funtime Freddy felt like he was about to burst. His eyes glowed brighter. “But, Stuffy Rabbit, we still aren’t done!”

Loosening his grip, Funtime Freddy turned around, removing Ralpho from the wall. He threw him. Ralpho went a good distance, before landing on the floor, on his stomach.

“Ralpho!” Oswald finally moved again. He rushed over to the collapsed rabbit, sitting by his side. He wanted to do something—he needed to. But Oswald wasn’t sure if he could.

“H-Hey, Oz...” Ralpho sucked in a breath. He tried to smile at the boy, but it just quickly became a pained frown. He could hear Funtime Freddy approaching.

Lifting up a hand, he gently pushed Oswald back. “You... y-you should... get outta here, Oz...” He was sure that the boy could do it. He needed to get out. Get back to Spring Bonnie.

“But I- hey!” Oswald and Ralpho gasped when the boy was picked up by Funtime Freddy.

Ralpho struggled for a moment. He tried to get back up—tried to reach up to grab Oswald away from Funtime Freddy before the bear could do something. But, the rabbit fell back down.

The rabbit cried out in alarm when Funtime Freddy slammed one of his feet down onto his back, keeping him in place.

He moved Oswald around. He wrapped his arm around the boy—that way, he could actually use his hand while dealing with the orange rabbit.

Funtime Freddy reached down, and grabbed hold of Ralpho’s left arm. “Let’s have some more fun!”

...

It had happened again. He’d seen Ralpho and Oswald in a flashback again. After making sure that the two were fine, Spring Bonnie settled on going outside.

He was sitting on the ground, looking up at the stars in the sky, and thinking. He and Ralpho had stargazed before, so he was looking up there, trying to see if he saw anything.

Spring Bonnie’s ears twitched as he heard the front door open and close. “Hey, Honey Bun,” He felt himself start to heat up. He didn’t know where the name had suddenly come from.

Ralpho walked over, and sat down beside him. “You okay?” Spring Bonnie sat there, no longer looking up at the sky. He was staring at his hands. “Did you have another?”

Spring Bonnie was about to reach into his pocket to grab his notepad, but he paused. He’d forgotten that he wasn’t wearing his coat—it was back inside.

The bunny nodded. Looking away from his hands, he focused on Ralpho now.

Ralpho moved closer, and pulled the bunny into a side hug, resting his head against Spring Bonnie’s shoulder.

...

Funtime Freddy was beginning to tug the rabbit’s arm, giggling to himself and muttering things. However, he paused in confusion—he heard a noise.

Looking around, he, at first, didn’t notice anything. But then, he heard a noise again. Footsteps—loud, and rapidly approaching footsteps. They didn’t sound human.

Funtime Freddy stared long enough to see a shadow before anything actually entered. A bunny. The bear frowned. Spring Bonnie.

The bear stood there for a moment, looking around, debating on what he should do. It didn’t take him that long to make his decision.

Not wanting to deal with the bunny, Funtime Freddy dropped Oswald, and removed his foot from the collapsed orange rabbit. He looked around, trying to find something.

He spotted a door up ahead, and ran towards it—forgetting about the abandoned rabbit leg on the ground. Funtime Freddy glanced back. “See you later, Little Ocelot!~”

...

Spring Bonnie burst into the room. After asking around, he was thankful that enough people had spotted Funtime Freddy—enough to see where he was going.

The first thing the bunny saw upon entering the room was Oswald, who had run over towards the sound of the footsteps. Oswald! Spring Bonnie knelt down, pulling the boy closer.

The bunny started wiping at the remnant and agony that was leaking from his eyes. At the same time, Spring Bonnie began checking Oswald over, hoping that the bear hadn’t harmed him.

“S-Spring Bonnie,” Oswald backed away, shaking his head. “It- it’s not me. It’s Ralpho!” The partially relieved Oswald—who still had a lot of concern in him—pointed to the side.

Ralpho? Spring Bonnie stood back up, and looked in the direction that his son was pointing. Blood. He saw blood. He saw a leg on the ground. He saw the rabbit on the ground. Ralpho!

He paid no attention to the leaking agony and remnant—there would be no point in wiping it away—and rushed over to where the collapsed Ralpho was. Oswald followed.

Spring Bonnie fell to his knees beside Ralpho. Carefully, he turned Ralpho over, keeping one hand against the rabbit’s back, and the other against his stomach.

Ralpho stared up at him. “H-Honey Bun?” His smile was a mix of pain and happiness. “Yo-... you look good i-in my h-hat, y’know...?” He let out a pained groan, and his smile faded.

“Oz... Oz is okay, Honey Bun...”

But you aren’t. Spring Bonnie made sure to be careful as he stood back up, holding the rabbit bridal style. He was about to grab the leg, only to notice that Oswald had.

The bunny began making his way out of the building with Ralpho in his arms, and his son by his side.

...

On the way back to the house—which had taken a while, thanks to Spring Bonnie not being able to take car, Oswald had explained the situation to the bunny.

Upon the three’s arrival, they were greeted with a worried Jackie. She’d been trying to contact Oswald, only to become concerned, and she drove back home.

Ralpho was laying down on the couch. After a much more quick explanation to her, Jackie had searched around, and settled on trying to stitch the rabbit’s leg back on.

The entire time, Spring Bonnie sat beside Ralpho, holding the rabbit’s hand in an attempt to comfort him—both of them, really. He’d never seen Ralpho in pain before. He’d wiped away the rabbit’s noticeable tears.

He didn’t want to see him like this again. He didn’t want to see any of them like this.

“...Done,” Spring Bonnie’s ears twitched at Jackie’s tired voice, and he glanced at her. “I’ve done as best as I can for him.” The bunny nodded.

“He should stay laying down for a while.”

And with that, he watched Jackie leave—taking Oswald with her into her room. She wanted to check him over—even if Spring Bonnie already had. Just in case the bunny may have missed something.

It was only the bunny and the rabbit now.

Ralpho opens his eyes, and glances at Spring Bonnie, when he feels the grip on his hand tighten. His ears twitched, hitting against the sides of his returned hat.

Looking at Spring Bonnie, he noticed the bunny starting to leak again. “Spring...” Ralpho started.

Spring Bonnie didn’t let go of Ralpho’s hand. Instead, he used his free one to grab his notepad and start writing. Ralpho patiently waited.

“Oswald isn’t hurt, you protected him. Thank you, Ralpho.” It took him longer to write using just one hand. Remnant and agony was still dripping, but he was trying to keep it away from the pages.

“But you’re hurt. You were hurt. He hurt you.” Spring Bonnie’s grip on the pen tightened, and his ears lowered. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve been there to keep you safe. Both of you. To stop him.”

“Spring...”

“I’m sorry.”

“Spring.” Ralpho moved a little closer to the bunny. He placed a hand on the side of Spring Bonnie’s face. He was still hurting. But, it wasn’t as bad as earlier.

“It’s okay- I’m okay now, Oz is, too.” Ralpho started, giving him a little smile. “He...” The rabbit glanced towards his leg, “...did that, yeah. But...”

“Springy, you still saved us.” Ralpho put his other hand on the other side of Spring Bonnie’s face. “He was going to keep doing it- but you came in time. You saved us.”

“We’re okay, Honey Bun...” Ralpho hummed. He glanced back at his leg for just a second—he’d have to thank Jackie later. Although, he wasn’t sure how well his leg was right now.

“I’m right here, Spring. I’m not going anywhere,” Ralpho grinned, wincing ever so slightly in pain. “None of us are going anywhere.” Not Oswald. Not Jackie. Not Thomas. He was sure Fetch and Jinx wouldn’t, either.

The cat didn’t seem to like the bunny... but still.

Before Ralpho could say something else, he was—gently—pulled into a hug by the leaking bunny. Ralpho hugged back. But for a moment, he pulled away.

He looked at Spring Bonnie with a gentleness in his eyes. “I love you, Honey Bun.” Ralpho murmured, before planting a kiss on the bunny’s mouth.

For a moment, Spring Bonnie’s ears went up, and he could feel himself starting to heat up again. He returned the kiss.

After they separated, Ralpho rested his head against Spring Bonnie’s shoulder. The bunny wrapped his arms back around the rabbit. Both tails were slowly beginning to wag—Ralpho’s more than Spring Bonnie’s.

I love you, too. Spring Bonnie smiled, shutting his eyes.

[actuallycherub]

Am I actually being productive or am I distracting myself from the fact that people are way too busy to acknowledge me ?

[littlemissmiller]

𝑀𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑌𝑜𝑢

Pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

Summary: the summer before you graduated college, Joel Miller became a regular at the bar you worked. he was perfect except one small problem…you already have a boyfriend

Warning: 21+ (drinking), fluff, slight age gap (reader is in her early 20s and Joel is 30) smut, oral (f receiving) p in v, slight body worshipping, porn with plot

Word count: 5.2k

A/N: i did it! i finally wrote a fic to live up to my blog name! i’m so proud of this one y’all like omg…i love it, it’s so perfect. such a cute lil fluffy smut (≧◡≦) ♡ also still can’t get over the fact that people like my little hobby, so thank you for all the love! it only encourages me to write more. speaking of which, i have so many stories for the summer coming up, especially with tom blyth coming back as billy. i already have a few stories started so hopefully they will be out sooner rather then later. ok that’s it i have nothing more to say. enjoy ❣︎

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It was your last summer before graduating college and being home made you want to cherish your last year even more. You were looking forward to it and ready to be done bartending so you could see your friends and have some real fun. Sure, this job made you a ton of cash, but being home was nothing in comparison to being with your college friends in a town totally catered to you and your fellow students. Although your hometown had its perks. At least it used to. Your longtime boyfriend had never left your hometown or went to college. He had instead opted for going into a trade and becoming an electrician.

Your relationship was strong at first, but every semester it became harder and harder to navigate. Time after time you had convinced yourself that he was still your best friend, but meeting new people in college and getting to experience the joys of youth on your own for the first time, had given you a lot of perspective. So every birthday, holiday, and summer, you felt like you were coming home to a completely different man. Yet you stayed with him because you really wanted to make it work and you told yourself you loved him. Yet something unexpected had happened. One evening at work, a group of men came in to watch the Rangers game. That’s when you first met him and that’s the night Joel Miller would become a regular at your bar.

He was clearly older, at least thirty, but you couldn’t help but practically gawk at him all night. And you couldn’t help but think that Joel was eyeing you too. But you felt a wave of guilt overcome you. You knew you shouldn’t feel like this. You knew you shouldn’t be staring down another man like that but you couldn’t help it. But his arms looked so strong, like he could carry you effortlessly. You couldn’t help the way you smiled every time he would share a boisterous laugh with his friends. His own sweet smile drew you in and you noticed he had the cutest cheek nimble on top of it. From his big chiseled nose to his perfectly crafted jawline, he was an absolute Adonis. Just then another wave of guilt washed over you and you tried to shake away your feelings of disloyalty as you walked into the kitchen, putting their food order in.

As you walked out of the kitchen and brought them their next set of drinks, you tried not to look at him so much but it’s hard not to. Then he spoke up.

“Hey darling? Could I get some more napkins when you get the chance?”

“Yeah sure!” You scurried off and came back immediately

He smiled at you as he thanked you which made your heart flutter. As you made your way back to the kitchen, another server catches up to you.

“Who’s the handsome cowboy at 13?” She asked

“Oh” you started “I’m not sure. Are you talking about the man in the white shirt?” You lied acting like she was talking about someone else

“Girl, don’t play. I can see him undressing you right now”

You glanced over, and caught him smiling at you while he sipped his beer. You started to smile back, when the guilt hit you again and you turned back to your co-worker.

“Oh…yeah…h-he is handsome yeah…but not like I’m interested.” You lied again

“Okaaay whatever you say…” she said unconvinced, rushing off to her table

Joel and his buddies left around 9 and you noticed that Joel leaves the biggest tip out of everyone. Around 10 o’ clock you clocked out and headed to your boyfriend’s house where you had planned on spending the night. Once you arrived, you walked straight into his room where he was playing some PC game. His back was towards you and he didn’t notice you at first with his big headset on. You hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek. He startled and you jumped back.

“Woah! Hey! Your home” he remarked, clutching his chest, barely glancing at you “Jesus you scared me.”

“Clearly” you giggled

“God don’t sneak up on me like that. Could have cost me the game” he sighed, as he returned his full attention to the screen.

“What ya playing?

“COD” he remarked dryly

“Are you gonna be finishing soon?” You inquired

“Ahh probably not. I figured you’d be too tired to hang after your shift so I told the boys I’d be on tonight.”

“I thought you said we would watch a movie after work tonight?”

“Oh yeah, I mean I don’t know I just kinda figured you’d want to go to bed when you got home. Plus you fall asleep to every movie we watch together”

“Yeah” you sighed in disappointment, wanting to follow it up with “but that’s not the point.” You knew he’d get upset at you for pulling him away from his game. “I just want to cuddle you.”

“Ok ok I got ya. I’ll be in bed soon, ok.” He said halfhearted, still not looking at you.

You changed into a pair of sweat shorts and an old shirt and got ready for bed. As you climb into bed you want to cry. And you questioned your guilt from tonight. Maybe it was because it had been a while since a man seemingly flirted with you that made you realize just how lousy your boyfriend has become. When was the last time he genuinely made you feel special? You fell asleep, but were woken up by small kisses on your neck, but your boyfriend began to move more aggressively, trusting and grinning his crotch against your ass. At that point you’re too tired for sex, and all you wanted was for him to hold you and care for you.

“Mmm babe I’m really tired” you whined

“I thought you wanted attention?” He asked, continuing his actions. You pushed away slightly but he continued, only pulling you closer against his chest.

“I do, just not like this. Not right now ok? I just want to sleep.”

He sighed, turning over

“See this is why I don’t want to do a movie with you. I knew you would be too tired.”

“That’s not…” you wanted to finish your sentence again and say “that’s not fair” but once again that would probably upset him and now he was annoyed with you so you don’t want to push it. “I just want to sleep now ok.”

“Ok. It’s fine. Goodnight.” He huffed, falling asleep.

The next couple of shifts your mind is preoccupied by your newfound feelings about your relationship. Your boyfriend wasn’t abusive by any means, but it was clear the relationship wasn’t healthy anymore. That’s when the crying at work started. Mainly because you had just come from his house before each shift and every interaction with him pained you. The only thing that kept you from continuously calling off was Joel. Almost every shift around 5 o’clock he would come in, order a few beers, maybe something to eat, and chat it up with you.

By the third week, all your co-workers were teasing you about him. Whenever his truck would pull up in the parking lot, someone would come get you.

“Your cowboy is here!” Someone yelled out to you, stepping out of the kitchen. You left the servers station to greet him.

“Hey Joel! Mich Ultra? You asked

“You know it darling. How you’ve been?” He smiled, causing you to practically melt into a puddle. You gathered yourself and smiled back at him.

“About the same as the last time you saw me.”

“And still as beautiful as ever.” He winked

“You flatter me Mr. Miller. I bet Mrs. Miller is one special lady hmm?” You asked more or less trying to see if he was actually flirting with you or just being nice.

“She would if there was one.”

“Oh I thought you said you have a daughter?” You questioned more

“And a man can’t be a single dad in this world? How sexist of you” he chuckled sarcastically

You rolled your eyes at him and laughed along.

“I just thought such a handsome cowboy as yourself would have a beautiful gal to go home to.”

“I wish…” he sighed, eyes giving you a once over

“So where is she then? Your daughter? If not with her mom. You know we allowed kids in before 9 right?”

“Yeah, she just has soccer practice at this time three days a week. I figured why not wait for her to be done and come see you since I’m out and about.” He explained

“Ain’t you just a charmer.” I’ll get you that beer.”

You walk over to behind the bar and fetch Joel his beer.

“He’s just all over you” one of the bartenders remarked

“And he tips well too.”

“Gee I wonder why” they smirked, giving you a look “how does your boyfriend feel about him?”

“I mean he’s just a customer. They flirt all the time and who doesn’t like the extra cash?” You started quickly

“Mhmm sure” they said

You walk back to him, bringing him his beer and continuing to chat with him. He ordered another beer then left to go pick up his daughter Sarah.

Now every time at work shift, it felt like an escape. It also felt like a fantastic secret that only you knew about. A fantasy being played out in real life. Joel was so charming.

Even though he was older, his youthful demeanor shone through. He was caring too. If he wasn’t asking about you and your life, he was talking about his daughter. You could tell she was his world. He absolutely adored her, and you loved to listen to him go on and on about her. You didn’t quite care what your co-workers would say or how your boss didn’t like that you hovered around his table, sometimes neglecting your other ones.

But he couldn’t complain too much given Joel was a respectful, paying customer. And a great tipper. And he would always leave a little note on his receipt. Nothing too flirtatious, just innocent enough to toe the line. This went on for a couple more weeks, your boyfriend none the wiser. Not like he was paying much attention to you anymore. Every note, you would take them and make sure to hide them when you got home. You stored them in your sock drawer and kept them secret like everything else about him. You still felt guilty though and realize that you need to end things with your boyfriend. It’s harder than you thought and truthfully you don’t know how to leave someone you’ve cared about that much. And been with for so long. But talking to Joel made you realize what you needed. And what you wanted. And you wanted him. And something told you he wanted you too.

Then back at home, living with your boyfriend it was a totally different reality. He felt so disconnected from you, so indifferent. And the more you faded away from him the less you felt like you really loved him still. And he noticed you pulling away from him. One night, you came home and had kept another one of Joel’s receipts.

“See you Wednesday :) Joel”

You left your server book out on his bed, along with your purse and hopped into the shower without thinking. When you got out of the shower, your boyfriend was sitting on his gamer chair, nose deep in your server book. You froze and tightened the towel around you nervously.

“Oh hey babe. When did you get home? I thought you and the boys were having a boys night? “

“We decided to just get dinner instead. What’s this?” He asked, holding up the receipt.

“Oh, just one of my regulars. Don’t worry about it.” You giggled, trying to play it cool reaching for the book. He holds it back from you and stands up.

“Who’s Joel?”

“My regular” you repeated

“Oh yeah. I bet he tips you well hmm? Pays you lots of attention?” He asked accusatorily.

“I-he…he’s just a regular we get them all the time.”

“Yeah, but you said he is one of YOUR regulars. Why yours? Why is he writing you notes?”

“He-he just always sits in my section I don’t know. That’s not too unusual…and a lot of customers write thank you notes and stuff I can’t control them!” You insisted, readjusting your towel again

“You expect me to believe that?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Well I don’t need creepy men hitting on my girl at work.” He barked back

“He’s not creepy and you’re being ridiculous.”

“Oh then what is he?”

“He’s just a customer!” You argued even though it was a lie

From that moment on, your boyfriend had grown highly suspicious of your relationship with him and Joel. Wednesday rolled around and Joel showed up again as expected. You nervously approached him as he sat down.

“Well hey their sugar” he smiled

“Hey Joel” you replied, only giving him a half smile

He searched your face and could tell something is up.

“You ok?”

“Yeah, just life stuff. So Mich Ultra?”

He nodded and you walked off. His eyes followed you, watching you as you went to the bar. You came back and gave him his beer. You wanted to set it down and walk away, but Joel’s concerned eyes beckoned you to say.

“Thinking about food?” You asked him

“Maybe. I’m sorry doll, I don’t mean to pry but if I did anything to put you off-“

“No Joel of course it’s not you it’s just…relationship issues” you huff

“Sorry to hear that sugar. I hope y’all can work it out”

“I hope so” you sigh, knowing it’s a lie.

Just then your boyfriend storms into the bar. You don’t notice him at first, but then you hear a set of heavy footsteps approaching towards you and you look up. Confused, you call out his name.

“What are you doing here?”

“Can’t visit my girl at work anymore?” He asked glancing at Joel

“Excuse me.” You mumble to Joel, walking over to him and grabbing his hand. You lead him out of the building.

“What are you doing?!” You shouted

“Is that him? Is that Joel?” he sneered

“Why do you care all of a sudden hmm? You’ve barely paid attention to me in the last few months. What happened to us?” You nearly sobbed.

He sighed and shook his head

“What do you want from me? I mean I’m frustrated with you too if that helps. You have completely shut yourself off, don’t tell me shit! I’m upset too! Especially that I know you’re flaunting yourself around weirdo old men.”

“Stop! That’s it, I can't do this anymore. I’m so scared to tell you anything because of how you act when I share your feelings. When I come home, you ignore me and frankly it seems like you only give me affection when you want to fuck me!”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed, throwing his arms up.

“Oh my god! You over exaggerate everything. Is this why you’re acting like an attention seeker? Because you think I don’t pamper you?”

“Unbelievable. Pampering really…you know what I’m not arguing with you! I’m done! We’re done!” You shout and storm back into the back

“Done? Really like that? Four years done like that? Fine whatever, be that way, I know you don’t mean it. I’ll see you at home.” And he storms off back to his car.

You wanted to cry as you stormed back into the bar, but you held yourself together.

You tried to hide your clearly upset face as you rushed back into the kitchen and into the back alley next to the dumpsters. Joel noticed and ran out of the bar looking for you. He searched around the building then he called out to you.

“Hey. What’s wrong.”

You can’t help it. One look at him, and you ran into his arms. He embraced you, holding you tight.

“Hey my little firefly…what’s wrong?” He asked, his sweet southern drawl falling like your tears.

“I loved him Joel… why do people stop loving you back…” you sobbed

Joel gently stroked your hair, attempting to calm you down. It didn’t feel strange to be held by him. You felt safe, and comfortable in his arms, despite barely knowing him or even having any interaction with him outside of work, that moment felt right.

“I don’t know darling.” Joel sighed

You eventually gathered yourself and go back inside with him. Your boss thankfully didn’t notice your absence. Joel returned to his table and you returned to your other patrons. After his beer, Joel left and you didn’t really get a chance to see him leave. When you went to collect his tap you saw another note this time with his phone number and it read:

“Gotta go get Sarah. Call me if you need to talk”

Your heart dropped. He had finally given you his number and at the same time you still felt guilty. Even though you had, despite what your now ex-boyfriend thinks, finally ended your relationship. And here the opportunity was. Right in front of you. You look at the receipt, take it, fold it and immediately put it in your pocket to keep it safe. You clock out at ten and are all too eager to get into your car to call Joel. Once you do, you dial the number and it rings.

“Hello?”

“He-hey Joel it’s me…” you uttered

“You ok darling?” He asked sweetly

Maybe it was his voice, the question, or the fact that the weight of the burdens of your life seemed to have fallen apart around you, but you cried again. Letting it all out and at the same time feeling better than ever.

“Hey hey hey” Joel whispered “I just put Sarah to bed…why don’t you come over here? We can talk ok?”

You nodded and sobbed.

“Ok…”

Joel texted you his address and you put it into your GPS. It’s only about a ten minute drive to his house and when you pulled up, you nervously exit your vehicle. You walked up the front door and knocked quietly, not wanting to wake Sarah. A moment later, it swung open and Joel’s handsome face looked at yours with deep concern.

“Come on in.”

You nodded and walked into his home. As expected it’s much nicer than your boyfriends, but then again Joel is an actual adult, with a kid, and mortgage to pay off so it was to be slightly expected. It wasn’t too fancy, just your standard suburban home. You walked over to the couch and Joel followed you.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Honestly I need something a little strong. Got any whiskey?”

He smiled ear to ear.

“Ya betcha.” And he rushed off into his kitchen.

You made yourself comfortable and tried to relax as you looked around Joel’s living room. You curiously strode over to his bookshelf and read the titles. Lots of history books, a few fiction and then you noticed the framed photo of him and his daughter. You realize you’ve never seen a photo of her, but she’s just as beautiful as you could have imagined. You smiled and Joel caught you in your curiosity.

“She’s been my little gem since day one. Just me and her. I don’t think I ever told ya, but her mom left us so…” he remarked.

You looked at him, smiled and nodded.

“She’s beautiful, Joel. You’re a great dad.”

Joel sat the glasses of whiskey down on the shelf and reached for your hand. You gasp slightly, look at where he’s touched you and then look up into his eyes. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“You asked me why people stop loving people back and ya know, I still don’t have a good answer for that. I guess it’s because I’ve been asking myself the same thing for the last twelve years.”

“Joel…you’re such a good man…” you sighed, squeezing his hand.

“You’re too kind darling.” He smiled

“No really.”

You stared at him for a moment. His eyes searched your own looking for what he suspected you wanted from him. He cupped your face and he leaned in to kiss you. His lips fit perfectly against yours, like he was made for you. It was perfect and passionate. He was so gentle, yet you could feel how badly he had wanted this moment with you. He pulled back for a moment to make sure he hadn’t crossed the line.

“Got a bedroom?” You smirked

Before you knew it, Joel was crawling on top of you and you took off your shirt. At the same time he was busy frantically kissing your neck and jaw. He tossed it off and Joel took a moment to admire your chest. He gasped and reached to grope your breasts. Your soft, perky mounds fit perfectly in his hand and he began to massage you. He was in utter awe of you. Almost overwhelmed that he was getting to have you like this. You stared back up at him, equally in awe at that moment.

His big brown eyes melted your heart and all your troubles melted too. Fuck your lousy ex. All you wanted and needed was Joel. He kissed you again as he continued to play with your breasts. You let out a few giggles that turned into harsh, sharp moans as he moved his mouth down your body.

“Fuck…” you whispered, the word dancing around the room.

As his lips trailed you, your body reacted, your hips bucked and you were practically squirming under him. When his mouth found your cleavage, you felt the heat in between your legs grow stronger.

He continued to kiss you, only breaking away to take off his own shirt. He was toned, his skin smooth and he was unbelievably broad. You couldn’t help but admire the way his collar bone met his neckline. It was clean and sharp. You tried not to think of your ex, but in comparison he was not as fit as the gorgeous man in front of you. You placed your hands on his chest and felt his pecs, running your fingers down to his abdomen. You leaned up to kiss him again. His lips were so soft and addictive. You could’ve kissed him all night, but your desires beckoned for more. He held you up slightly and flipped you over. As he did he unhooked your bra and you let it fall off your chest. He tossed it on the ground and admired your bare chest for the first time.

“You’re so gorgeous. “ he uttered as your hair fell in front of you.

He pushed it out of the way and cupped your face. He pulled you back down to capture your mouth once again, lightly gripping the back of your neck. Your bare boobs pressed down against his chest, a feeling which you love. Skin on skin, the close intimacy and the feeling of being wanted more than just something to fuck. That’s how your ex had made you feel the last few months when you and him had sex, so being touched, cherished by Joel made your head spin. You weren’t used to it and you could feel your body reacting to the unfamiliar sensations. Joel noticed.

“Baby, you ok?”

You blushed at the nickname, smiled and nodded.

“It’s just been some time since I felt like this.”

“When’s the last time he touched you?”

“I-I mean we would have sex once or twice a week…”

“When is the last time he really touched you though. Made you feel special?”

You simply stared at him speechless and tilted your head.

“You know what, forget about him. Just focus on me. Let me make you feel good like you deserve.”

With that, he decided to be bold and reached for your mini skirt. He pulled it down past your hips and you lifted them up so he could pull it off you. He tossed it on the ground with your bra and his hands immediately moved to cup your ass. He squeezed the pillowy flesh as you moved your hips. You could feel him getting hard under you and you eagerly reached for his belt. His hands moved up to your waist, rocking you more. You undo his belt and he lifted up his hips to take off his pants. He slid them off along with his boxers, revealing his length. It was perfect. Just the right size, the mushroom tip red and swollen. Encouraged by his actions, you slide your panties off and you are both completely bare in front of each other.

He soaked the sight of your naked beauty in, eyes trailed over all your curves and edges. You were simply divine to him, a work of art. He runs his hands back up to your chest, briefly groping them, his eyes completely focused on your face. You grab his cock and began slowly stroking it. His mouth drops slightly as he watched you. He tilted his head back on the pillow briefly, before he looked back up to watch you. His breathing became ragged and you picked up your pace. You start to move on top of him, guiding his cock to your entrance, but he stops you.

“Let me get you wet.” He insisted, grabbing your hips and flipping you again. Immediately, he kissed down your body, worshiping you. “You’re so perfect. If you were my girl I’d never stop showing you how perfect you are.” He muttered in between kisses.

He kissed your inner thigh before he experimentally rubbed your clit. You gasped, your hips bucked in his face. He smirked at your reaction, loving how you responded to his touch. Taking that as a sign you wanted more, he gently kissed your slit. He gave you another one and another one until the little pecks of his lips turned into the sloppy mess of his tongue. It had been ages since a man had gone down on you like this. Your ex-never warmed you up beforehand anymore, too eager to satisfy his own desire and pleasure. Joel knew how to be a real man. His tongue and lips suck and rub at your core. He moved his head too, adding to the friction. You reached for his brown locks, desperately in need of something to hold onto. He hung onto your hips and he moved you against his face. He moaned against your core, eating you out like you were the most delicious meal of his life. He pulled back, out of breath and drunk in your juices.

“Could taste ya all day darling.”

You nodded as he inserted a finger in you, twisting it. He slowly pumped it into you, curling it up as he added another finger. He watched as your face scrunched up in pleasure. He sped his hand up, totally focused on getting you to finish.

“Joel…Joel…Joel…” you chanted “Gonna cum”

He nodded and worked you a bit more until you tightened down around his digits. You came hard, the euphoria rushed through your body like a roller coaster.

“So beautiful oh my god.” He praised, rubbing your thighs.

He crawled back up to you. He kissed you letting you taste yourself. You hadn’t felt this kind of passion in a while, this intense feeling of intimacy.

“You ready? He asked, slowly rubbing your clit again.

You nodded as he lined himself up with your slit. You felt as his cock pushed past your folds and stretched you out perfectly. You gasped and he kissed your cheek feather light. He cooed at you as he slid in, hitting the back of your cervix. You gasped, which turned into a raspy moan that floated from your lips. Joel cupped your face, stroking his thumb across your cheek. You two shared in the silence of your pleasure for a moment, taking in how good the other felt. He moved, slow at first then he sped up. He felt so full inside you, and you lost yourself in the sensation of his length. You could have stayed like that all night, the steady motion of his cock pumping into you was pure bliss.

“Does that feel good?” Joel inquired lovingly

“Yes, please Joel I want more. I need more of you.”

Per your request, he gave you more, slightly giving into his own desires to want to ravish you. But given it’s your first time with him, Joel didn’t want a sloppy, lustful encounter. Yet, he picked up his speed, his length now hitting the back of your walls at an almost brutal pace. Joel makes sure to keep checking in on you to make sure you’re okay or that it doesn’t hurt too much. You panted and panted as he continued, gripping onto his waist with your legs, pushing him deeper into you. He moved a bit more then flipped over. You smiled at him, slightly out of breath.

“I want to see that beautiful body riding me. Is that ok?”

You nod enthusiastically, slowly starting to move your hips. Joel’s hands groped your ass, rocking you on him more. He sat up, pressed his lips firmly against yours and held you tight. You started to bounce on him which elicited a guttural moan from his lips. He moved his hand to your hips, looking up at you in awe.

How could anyone not treat you like the absolute treasure you are?

Joel thought and wondered to himself as he held you. He couldn’t believe that your ex-boyfriend would neglect you. What a foolish man, but now he had you. In the exact moment he had imagined. He had you. He moved his hips in sync with yours. You steadied yourself on his shoulders, ecstasy, providing you escape. Your breath hitched as you feel his cock stiffen more inside you. He was close. You didn’t want it to end but then again you had a feeling this wouldn’t be your last encounter with Joel. A few last rocks of your hips and he was spent. He pulled you off him abruptly as he shot his load onto his stomach. You caught your breath, resting your forehead against his. You held his jaw in your hands, settling your hips.

“Joel…” you whispered, the words ghosting over your lips.

“Yes darling..” he whispered back

“Y-you have no idea how much I wanted you like this.”

“I know. Me too, but not just like this. I want you. All of you. Can I please have it?” He nearly begged

Your enthusiasm took over you and you planted a spontaneous kiss on his lips.

“Yes Joel…you can have all of me.”

꧁✩★✩꧂

[cryptfile]

✶ nuclear seasons, [ soldier boy x reader ]

summary — he was friend’s with your mom. friend is a understatement cause when he appears in the middle of the night looking for revenge in your little apartment in the suburbs, you know he’s far from being nice.

warnings — +18 minors dni, smut, dead dove do not eat, we have a last name (also a mother!), kind of porn without plot? but not really cause it HAS one okay, we call it 50/50, fem!reader using she/her pronouns, p in v, masturbation ( m! receiving but blink and you miss it), dirty talk, age gap, choking, degradation, spitting (i'm sorry), fingering, mentions of injury, cancer (not you tho), tons of tension.

side notes — i’m never experiencing the post ovulation clarity lmao, that being said english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes, also i’m a whore for jensen ackles, and i stand for what i like proudly. // 5k+

Nightshade is a hero.

You're proud of your mother since you were pretty young. The hero that fought against Vought to death during the time Payback was active, America’s Troublemaker that you only knew as Stella Nightshade, a blonde woman that talked with the death during her golden years.

Maybe it’s your mother the one that pushed you to fight crime, to pursue the bad guys and look out for the victims that can’t stand for themselves, so even when you don’t inherit much from Stella’s gifts, you joined the CIA as soon as you can so you can do something that matters.

You’re the best in your class, work your ass off to be taken serious, to be more than the look of disappointment you receive when people ask, once again, if you have any powers like your mother and you have to admit — In pure shame, that you didn’t born as a superhero but a baby who cried loudly when is too hungry.

But as years pass you make a name for yourself, one that even if differs from Stella’s job has the same noble reasons behind. You also realize you were too naive growing up, believing in heroes that don’t deserve to be called that way.

The country has made a mistake on making superhumans so openly, and it’s clear that got out of control now, backfiring as they got so much power it’s almost impossible to take accountant of any of them.

You’ve worked along Grace Mallory from the shadows, and even when Stella would not be so proud of you for helping get his kind out of the streets, the justice is enough to feed you and keep you warm on a cold night.

You like it that way. You know Grace has a team for it, a legal army of supe-haters as you called them, yet, you prefer to stay in the dark, not let your personal life get involved cause one slip and you can lose it all— Even when you don’t have nothing at all. You like to have an outside life from work, it’s the sane thing to have, so when the CIA Deputy Director asks you about joining the infamous Boys, you politely decline assuring the woman you’ve been more helpful from the outside.

What would Stella Nightshade would say? Now that you’ve grown older and you don’t look at her the same way you used to when you encounter her files and read about your mother. You know she has done wrong, yet with the years, you don't imagine Soldier Boy himself was going to seek for revenge first thing he does when he wakes up, his plan including your mother even when she was long time dead before he even appeared in the picture.

That night especially you let your guard down. It's been a rough couple of weeks back in work, so when the night comes you're a victim of the stress, victim of your bosses and the people that surrounded you. You pour a glass of wine for yourself, light a cigarette even when you haven't smoked in years, and turn on the TV to see something else rather than the face of Homelander in every single channel you've been tuning lately.

It's a weapon. When you leave for a warm shower and start filling the bathtub, you're not aware of what that night was really going to be for you. Oblivious as you stand naked in the middle of the bathroom, holding the glass of wine between your fingers before entering the warm current that relaxed your muscles.

It seems tension is your worst enemy, makes your muscles feel like stone as you got in the water, the cigarette that hangs from your dry lips splashing with tiny droplets of perfumed water as the silence filled the air. It's what you needed, at least ten minutes with your brain shutting off completely, the pleasure you haven't experienced in forever by being so compromised with work.

It's a much-needed break. The smoke that leaves the room by the almost-closed window, the taste of wine still lingering in your lips as you sip another taste of the crimson liquor you love. You don't happen to notice when he's breaking in your apartment, silent and deadly as you were protected by a door closed and a white curtain.

You don't happen to hear him too. The music coming our from your phone is loud enough to silence the knocks on your door at first before breaking the wood, you're too deep in the still water that smelled like roses and vanilla, to even pay attention to what was going on outside the warmth of the four walls that surrounded you.

There's vapor coming out of the water and you find comfort in closing your eyes, in letting the blow of the smoke travel through your throat before suspending itself in the air, flowing as you drank.

In your defense, you haven't been like that in ages.

It's been a long time since you last fill the tub and have a relaxing session with yourself, so it makes sense you are enjoying it a little bit too much, too much cause when the invader is making a lot of noise when stepping into your property, you still enjoy the taste of the alcohol on your lips.

The ashes fall to the ceramic floor outside the tub and you should blame the CIA to make you so tense to the point it leads you to more problems than you ever had. In the dark room of your apartment, it's Soldier Boy the one who's going through any drawer he comes across, the ones closed, the ones hidden, any slit he can find, any clue that can trace your mother back to his personal vendetta.

He's oblivious to Stella's death and her daughter, so when the former superhero hears the noise in the bathroom he's fully convinced it's your mother the one who's behind that door, that she's the one who's going to tell him the truth, if she also sold him to the russians as well in the process.

He's decided also on killing her. She must need it after all that time getting older, closer to death more than ever.

Of course it's an unpleasant surprise when you can see the bathroom door opening when you're sure you left the front door closed and lock with at least two bolts to prevent anyone from getting inside, it makes you jump in the spot, quickly covering yourself from the new stranger that enters your bathroom.

"Stella?" he asks, it's the last room that the hero needs to check for himself.

You spot the green fabric of his suit immediately as you pressed your chest against the cold surface of the tub, and when the invader notices you're naked, he doesn't look away as any person with a hint of respect would do, but instead, continue on checking you out as you try to cover yourself in the water tinted in a nonexistent transparent color red.

You can feel his gaze as soon as you recognize him too, as you happen to notice that face from your mother's pictures, the propaganda in the TV when he did almost every commercial back when you were a kid. It's a shock, and dressed in his damn suit, you don't know why an old superhero is there standing beneath the yellowish bulbs of the light your bathroom happens to have.

Your cheeks adopt this pink color as you panic, grabbing the cup of wine to throw the liquid in the floor, breaking it against the marble walls just to shatter the glass in pieces, a weapon of defense as you lifted up against him.

"You're not Stella."

Soldier Boy looks amused: it's funny that you think you'd be able to kill him with shattered glass, yet he lets you keep thinking that way when he's enjoying the view.

Is he to blame? He just got out from this giant cooking oven back with the communists and he hasn't got his way with a lady since what seems are centuries, so when he spots you in the tub he simply cannot contain himself from peaking around. You should be in what? Not more than your 20's? Soft-looking skin that asked to be marked with his hands, by the force of his lips crashing in your flesh.

The thought is compelling, you're looking all feisty with the glass in your hand, threatening him and speaking something Soldier Boy cannot catch at first — Shit, he doesn't even notice the blood in your hand that's dripping all over your small rug in the floor, the power women like yourself seemed to have now and weirdly enough, a huge turn on.

"Get the fuck out!" you scream in an authority voice, the same you use back at work when you're mad, when you're usually holding a gun in defense more than a piece of broken glass "Stella is not fucking here!"

It takes a few more words to actually get him out of there, and as he closes the door behind him you finally stand to grab a towel covering from the currents of wind, trying, really hard, to think about anything else more that the fact that Soldier Boy has entered your house and your bathroom in the worst moment, far from what you were last updated with.

To be honest, it almost gave you a heart attack, leaving the bathroom to find your home torn apart, the drawers open and all the papers you've meticulously kept in place being all over the place as Ben stands awkwardly holding a shield in the middle of your living room.

"Fucking hell" you're cursing under your breath as you gathered some important things you cannot leave on the floor even when you're still wet from the shower, expelling this nice aroma that mixed the roses and the vanilla together with your personal scent — Weirdly enough, a fucking show to the hero that's already rock-hard from the peak he had of you from before.

You don't really notice it at first, too busy being mad as you let the papers you gathered on top of the table. You lose the shame you got left as the wet drops of the shower leave a trace in the floor — And as usual, you clearly don't notice it, but Ben does when the water is running down your back, and you're barking something about calling someone called Grace, holding onto a white tower with your dear life.

"Where is Stella Nightshade, sweetheart?" he speaks out loud cause he don't understand anything you say, really fighting to be nice with you like it would give him an opportunity to get under your skin.

"My mother's dead," you stand there without knowing what to say after. You know he and your mother were close, but you don't imagine he was going to actually go find her teammate when he recently woke up in a different country. "She died years ago dude, i'm sorry."

The information gathers in his head as you take a clean oversized shirt from the laundry basket covering with it as you throw the towel to the floor, Red Hot Chili Peppers it says, but he thinks it's a place in Italy more than a band like he isn't troubled already by the fact you were Stella's daughter, the person who thought was her only friend back in the time now dead.

"Does anyone know you're here?" your mind is drifting back to work again as you wondered if anyone knew he was going to break into your apartment and choose not to send any help — "Ben."

You've read his file. Hell, to be honest you've read every single file in Payback, so it's no surprise you know his name, but to the hero, it seems to be amusing when you call him by his real name, his mind fueled in a different direction as he notices you're not wearing any underwear beneath the shirt you're choosing to wear, one whose fabric's barely covering your tights.

"What do you mean dead?" he asks, furrowing his brows "It's not been so long."

"She got cancer three years ago" you explain with a sad tone, even when you disagree with Stella, it pains you to remember what sickness made out of her, consuming her from the inside at a cruel pace.

"Motherfucker," he states clearly angry, and you cannot help but look at him with a weird face, searching for the phone you left in the sofa to call any-fucking-body in the office that could send a damn army to get you: Didn't the Boys have everything under control? That's what you're told anyway, then why the fuck is the subject of matter cursing in your little messy apartment? — "Bitch just got away with it before I could do anything, isn't it? What a fucking shame."

"Pardon me?" it catches you by surprise at first, but it hits you soon after. Soldier Boy is not there to say hello to your mother or ask for her help, but instead, he's there to get revenge and actually kill Stella by his own matters.

Fuck. Of course is something new, something that makes you feel cold all sudden, your wet hair making you visible shake as you became aware of his plans.

"You know them. You know the people from the lab" it's more of a fact than a question, letting the words feel salty in his own mouth. "The ones that let me get away."

He's quickly to gather the pieces too, not as dumb as you think he is as the puzzle is finally coming up together in his head, and it's all it takes for him to take a step closer to you, cutting that space you've created since you kicked him out of the bathroom — He's angry now.

The red globe on his hand is now holding you by the throat, applying enough pressure to cut the air flow going to your lungs almost completely, his fingertips warm against your bare skin as he holds you in front of his figure, pushing you against the cold wall.

You usually would enjoy such activities, yet in the context you are trapped in right now, you began to choke, your own hands trying to push his grip back even when he’s too strong, not even flinching when you’re squirming, gasping for some air as your face became red, tears gathering in your eyes as he let you breathe for a couple of seconds when he senses you’re too close to black out.

“Talk little Nightshade” he says in a low voice. “Or else i’m breaking your pretty neck.”

“I work for the CIA!” You explain quickly as your breathing became more labored by the seconds. “Not for the people who let you out! I promise!”

He’s going to kill you. You can see the determination in his eyes, that predator look he happens to have.

What you don’t know, somehow, is that he’s going fucking insane. Your smell coming up to his nose to make him shiver, the sight of you in an oversized shirt that barely covers your shape is more than enough to push his buttons, to make him forgot about any killing he was allegedly so concentrated in fulfill, the sight of you almost crying messing with his brain.

Little Nightshade is a fucking tease.

His eyes follow your expression, the hand that gripped your neck and choke you harshly now pressing enough to only suppress the air flow in a more enjoyable way, the tension quickly shifting from dying to pleasure all over again as he kept you in place so easily.

It’s impossible to move, to do anything more than be pressed against a cold wall. Your mother has once again lied to you and you notice the relationship she painted with Soldier Boy was more of a movie in her head than reality itself. Makes you gulp in response when you stare at his expression, the face of a trained killer as you knew, fucking knew, a bit more of force in your neck and it would snap without any difficulty.

“I don’t work with them” you assure once again, maybe it’s your survivor skills hitting when you repeat it in a low voice, catching on your breath when he lets go allowing you to fill your lungs with air just enough before pressing that very spot again, the one that actually turns you on. “Fuck’s sake.”

Is that how you end? On your lame apartment?

The next is a weird thing, cause in the blink of an eye he’s close to your face planting his own body next to yours and you’re shivering at the feeling, his armor pressed against your chest as he left the shield he was holding on the floor.

The metal is pressed against your skin covered by the thin cotton of Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt, and he is so close, so close you froze there, no longer fighting his tight grip but mesmerized by his damn face, the same you watched on TV when you were a kid, the handsome man you happen to severely crush on in secret, just because you don’t want Stella to know or she will give you a long talk about how he is her age.

But he is, handsome as fuck, and now being so close to his face you can say it with all confidence. His beard is shaved perfectly and he smells incredibly good even for someone who has spent time locked away without any kind of hygiene, his green suit protecting him from the cold air that was getting through the opened window.

“Who are you?” he asks, scanning your face with a curious look as he wanted to know what expression you would have when you know why he's there in the first place — “What do you know about Stella Nightshade, your mother, selling me out?”

Fuck. So that's why he's there. You know she did it. And it's impossible for you to lie when he's making you so nervous, away from any weapon, any form of defense as you left the glass in the bathroom sink when you notice large gash on your hand, and your silence makes nothing more than leave him fuming. If he was angry before, he now reaches a higher level as his grip turns more violent now that he knows you know what he meant, why he's there claiming to talk with your death mother out of nothing.

"Call her then. Use your powers" he demands dryly, and you're shaking at this point cause it's more shame added to the long pile, the bathroom already being a humiliation by itself. "Fucking call her."

You squirm beneath his grabbing, when he's pushing you harder against the concrete wall and you can just feel him from under the suit, hard cock pressing against your belly, green in your vision as he towers over you. He knows what he's doing, and even when you try to be disgusted by it, you find yourself enjoying his closeness, how he's pinning you with no effort at all, hands on your throat while he demanded an answer.

"I can't call her" you admit in a low voice, cheeks now red as the embarrassment crept upon your face — "I don't have my mother's power."

Soldier Boy seems to not believe you for a mere second, after that you can feel the blade of the knife pressing against your skin, a threat that now becomes more real as you can feel the cold metal stomach. One swift movement and you'd be stabbed without a second thought.

It's sick how much you enjoy it when you are squirming against him, goosebumps in the zone he threats to destroy.

A force pull his lips upwards in a smile, unable to pay attention to nothing else but the sound you made without even realizing it. "You like that, huh little Nightshade?"

It seems to be a joke for him, bitting your inner cheek to prevent you from saying something stupid, from letting out a moan in response to all the sudden desire.

Despite all conditions you stay silent, holding his gaze like it's a game you're not going to lose. He didn't respond either, trapped in a second that seemed longer than the usual when time stopped around you, eyes looking like he can surpass the old fabric of the white shirt you choose to wear.

It's the tension what makes you mad. You're so into getting people like him, that your ego is bruised now that you notice you are actually attracted to all of that, to the way he's pressing you against the concrete, how all falls into place when he's pushing himself against you, invading any private space you could require.

He's kissing you soon after. Ben crumbles against the tension as the hand on your throat demands a kiss now, pulling you closer to his face without any warning nor concern as he crash his lips against yours in a rough kiss. You try to push him away in response even when you don't want to; see, it's hard to even admit you have interest in Soldier Boy in any other way more than the professional, but when he's bitting your lower lip you're letting your defense down: When is the last time you've been kissed like that?

You remind yourself you're tired from work, that the CIA has done nothing for you more than fuck your over and over even to this point, losing sight of one of the most important heroes of the word, and it's making you encourage to let go just for a mere hour.

"Lookin' so good takin' a bath" he says, and the sound of his deep voice is enough to send an electric wave through your spine, like he’s talking to himself as the hand on your hip is now tracing the curves of your body, taunting you from over the shirt he now learns to love. His beard is now scraping against your skin and you can feel his lips going down, tracing an invisible path to the crook of your neck as his hand is no longer choking you.

Jesus. Was that even happening or was that your imagination? Did you feel asleep on the bathtub? Maybe it’s a reflection as you are close to drowning, your brain doing that happy thoughts shit. You’re tilting your head to the side just to give him more space to work with and you’re just letting it be, enjoying how he’s sucking and nibling on your skin to leave a red mark behind, all teeth and no fucking control as he uses a good amount of force to make you moan in the process, the pain enough to remember who’s really on charge.

Ben forgets about asking any more questions, he’s too busy when his hand are taking decisions by themselves as they slide under your shirt, body still cold from the bath you just took, water still drying in your flesh when he’s like he usually is — An invader.

His hands are big and they’re capable of holding your whole tummy as he caress the soft skin that seems to expel a warm sensation, how it leaves goosebumps in any place he touches. You remember you’re basically at his mercy now that his hands roam with all liberty under your shirt, the look he gave you in the bathroom mistaken you for Stella, his eyes looking at any exposed skin he could look at.

“What the fuck,” you try to say under your breath, to keep on this facade you have of a composed person, one that won’t give in to be manhandled “What the fuck do you think you are you doing?”

“Well, i’m not seeing any complains” The blade cuts through the cotton leaving a large hole you know you won’t be able to sew after yet he’s right: There are no complains, nothing but eager that makes him go further as the seconds passed “In fact, can see that you’re pretty much enjoying it, Doll.”

You hate the nickname, that old man way of speaking when he’s squeezing one of your breasts with more force you can even handle, cursing at how easy it seems to be for him, how he wants to see you simply destroyed.

“You’re loving this isn’t?” he ask all sudden, studying you with his hazel eyes — “You love being a good whore f’me? My little Nightshade.”

He’s hard under the suit, covered in a green material you don’t know how to call as your hand searches for him, crave for him, convincing that it's what you must do as you trace the invisible lines his muscles made.

Soldier Boy’s messy, much like an animal when he’s groaning beneath your touch, his own body seeking for yours as your fingers grew bolder, demanding for a deeper contact — “Careful there sweetheart, i’m still fresh out of the oven. May be a little rusty."

You laugh at his words cause you know what he means, yet your hands work by themselves as you barely even touch him from over the suit, the hard feeling of his cock against your palm, hips buckling against your hand seconds after seeking for you, eyes shut for a couple of seconds.

“M’being careful” you say, catching yourself stealing a look at his reaction, taking your time on pleasuring him , gulping as he experiences the torture of your touch “Taking it slow for an old man.”

“Old man, huh? Now you're talking” He teases, and the sound of his laugh just fucks you up. Maybe it has to be with the fact he’s placing two fingers in front of your lips while looking at you, swollen pink lips he’s so fixated for a second, or it’s because he is, indeed, way older than you are — “Spit.”

It’s not a command, but it sounds like one as you’re unable to disobey, quickly spitting in his hand as you can visibly see the traces of saliva leaving a wet residue in your chin, one Ben looks at it for a good amount of time: How is something like saliva is so damn erotic? He doesn’t know it, but it’s enough to send him into a spiral.

He’s strong you think, cause he’s a superhero. He’s Soldier Boy by any meaning, so it’s not a big effort to hold you in his arms and lift you in the air as you let out a gasp of surprise, spanking your ass as one of his hands separates your legs for him, holding one up as you stand in the other.

“Relax, 'got you, doll” he says, your back against the wall as he kept a bruising grip in your hip, holding you in place so you don’t have to keep your balance — “Fuck you smell so damn good.”

The roses and vanilla aroma lingers on your skin as you finally understand what he's doing now, his hand close to your cunt as he taunts you, torturing you like you did so eagerly before, his personal pet as his digits get lost in your entrance now, your folds spilled with juice he can physically feel in his fingertips, your arousal's so nice against the palm of his hand he cannot help but kiss you, a feverish desire taking over his actions, the lewd sound his fingers made when he finally pushes his digits inside of you, velvety walls welcoming him as they seemed to squeeze him already — He has made such a good job on turning you on, it’s impossible to not react when he’s finally touching you, pumping into you in a constant pace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he says, the look on your face is enough to make his cock twitch in his pants in response, imagination running wild as he thinks about that very same feeling in a much deeper way, how you’d look now stretched out, crying just like you did when he choked you asking for information — “Such a nice cunt, so wet f’me.”

He's looking at you, holding the image in his mind forever: Pink pussy displayed for him, white t-shirt rising over your chest, lifting your leg over his arm as his muscles flexed by the force he's using to fuck you deliberately, your lips parted as you ask for more in between erratic moans as his fingers curved inside you so he can hit that nice place he can reach with no effort at all, that one spot thats makes you moan louder.

"Ah-fuck" you let out. Ben's all about touching you for what it seems an eternity, thumb grazing against your clit when he's plainly torturing you, testing how much patience you have left now that he has full control of you.

"Don't cum," he demands, your heartbeats are louder by the seconds as he lifts you slightly, lips attacking your neck before the words escape from his mouth "Need you to come undone in my cock first."

He's leaving marks, marks you don't remember how to hide but don't bother you at all, touching you as he pleases you, taking all the time in the world cause it seems like the night belongs to him — Getting started as you shake your head in an improvised yes.

Yes. The thought is pure electricity, the sudden need to please him as you shake your head once again.

“Please Ben,” you don’t recognize what you’ve become now. “Please let me cum in your cock.”

"Go on doll, put on a show f'me" the supe says with a grin you cannot resist. "Bend and show me that lovely ass."

It’s all it takes. His fingers are now away from you, but you’re now facing the wall as you obey, bending until your cheek is pressed against the concrete and you can hear how he’s now unzipping his pants, the green fabric of his suit now to the side.

You look at him from over your shoulder, bitting the your lower lip as you check him out, his slightly curved dick pointing upwards, precum already leaking out.

“Like what you’re seeing or what?”

“Yeah, but there’s no fucking way.”

You’re feeding on his ego now, but you can’t help it when his size is far from what you consider it’s common — “Common’ doll. You can hadle it.”

You gulp in response cause you know you’re more than eager to try, just the sight of his own hand holding his lenght as he strokes himself making you drool in response. Fuck. It transforms in a need now. When he positions himself beneath you and he’s spitting down to that very place where he’s pushing against your hole, saliva coating his cock before just letting the tip inside.

Lubricated, he pushes a bit more and it feels just damn right. Even when it begans to hurt as he’s thick enough to force himself inside you.

Benjamin knows you’re in pain so he waits a second before shoving his cock inside one more time. You need some time as he stretches you out, clenching your teeth while he works.

"You're doing it s'good" he praises, hand massaging your back as he prevents himself from fucking you at his liking, “Takin' me like a champ."

"God" you let out a sharp moan moments after, crying when you felt the pain more than anything else — "Can't-"

"No doll" he hums as he pulls slightly more. “You can do this” he forces himself in until he's finally balls deep inside your cunt, letting you adjust to his size as he can feel fucking everything. Your blood flow, your velvety walls that squeeze him unused to someone as big as he was, your face distorted in what seems an intense mix of pain and pure, devastating pleasure — "Atta girl."

Strikes like lighting.

Soldier Boy's bitting your shoulder-blade as he waits, waits for it to switch into pleasure, to become intoxicating to the point you cannot longer remember your own name.

"Please move," you ask sooner than he thinks, and when he moves, you can feel it in your belly, melting your fucking brain as he repeated the process again, burying his cock as deep as he could go without any previous warning — "Ah, just like that, please-"

"Do you like how my cock is stretching you out now?" Ben's voice is way deeper than what usually is as he laughs, grunting behind you as one of his hands reach a fistful of your hair, grabbing it with force to pull your head backwards "Good girl, keep huggin' my cock."

You're drunk on the feeling, on the vibrations his voice sends every time he's saying something dirty for you, when he laughs victim of the pleasure.

"Gonna' keep you as my personal slut," he thinks out loud, pushing you against the wall every time he fucks you, using his other hand to spread one of your ass cheeks to the side so he can hit it harder. "Use you as my fucking pet so I can cum on your pretty face whenever I want."

He's moaning, your body’s sweaty as he pulls your hair without caring, not concentrated on the pain it produces as his hips continue on collide against you.

"Would you like that, little Nightshade?" he asks then in a low voice, his thumb pressing against your asshole as he fucks you harder now that you're used to his size. "Could get used to this pretty cunt. Promise to keep my cock whore nice and full."

It doesn't take long. Soldier Boy's moans are now filling the room as his pace becomes faster, slurred words between his erratic breathing when the hand on your hair comes up to finally grab you by the neck, like he can read your mind cause it's exactly what you need to get there, to experience by first hand a set of crashing waves that were getting more and more intense on your stomach.

You're close to the edge. He can smell it in the air when the sound of your skin slapping against his is loud enough to be all you can hear, mixing with the lovely moans you produce when he’s pounding into you with no mercy, fingers pressing the side of your neck with enough force you’re running out of breathe.

It’s messy, violent and you love it, love how he’s ruining you all sudden, fucking you up from the inside, making your vision turning dizzy in response. You’re immersed in the haze he’s driven you into before admiting:

“God i’m so fucking close.”

“Cum on my cock,” it sounds like he’s begging you to do it, fingers finding their way to your swollen clit to move against the sensitive flesh “Come on doll, leave me full of you.”

He’s making you move now, hands now controlling your hips as you take him as his liking, mere seconds until you’re finally crumbling, violently shaking as you finally reach your peak. He keeps on fucking you through your high, long enough so he’s pulling out all of sudden, stroking his lenght over you as his cum finally lands on your back leaving you convered with his load.

Fucking hell.

When you’re coming down from your orgasm shame seems to hit you hard, however for Ben is not enough when he’s kneeling on the floor, eyes on the mess his cock made out of you.

“Wanna go again, little Nightshade?” he asks curiously, and the question makes you laugh in response, forgetting about formalities and the trouble it meant you were intimate with Soldier Boy out of all the supes in the world.

“Hm,” you seem to think about it for a second, his breathing close to your wet pussy as he’s still wearing his clothes in contrast of you being so exposed — “But you’re keeping the suit on.”

He don’t have any complains when he’s the one pressing his face against your wet folds.

Funny thing is now when you’re forced to join the Boys days after that very encounter — A bad joke when you’re now babysitting Soldier Boy himself.

“Been missing you s’much little Nightshade” he admits after a couple of minutes alone in the filthy motel “Thinking about how cute you are, how you felt taking my cock so nicely in your living room.”

“Fuck off, Ben.”

“We’ll be quick” he promises “That stupid assholes back there wont even notice.”

You seem to think about it for a second before lifting your middle finger in response — “I said fuck off, Ben.”

For now, it’s enough for him that you’re thinking about it.

my masterlist

[rosereign]

I just made six sigils after like six months of putting it off

[requiemforthepoets]

underdogs dance in the middle of the night 𖦹 CL16

PAIRINGS: charles leclerc x fencer!leclerc!reader , f1 grid x fencer!leclerc!reader

SUMMARY: always being considered as an underdog, but the youngest leclerc is here to prove them wrong.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: it’s my first time doing something like this, and i apologize on my dry humor…but i hope you still enjoy this though.

REMINDER: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect to the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: typos

FACE CLAIM: maxine esteban and others on pinterest, but mostly maxine esteban.

ynleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl and 578,982 others

ynleclerc 2022-2023 was one hell of a ride.

This past year has been a never ending whirlwind of challenges and triumphs. From the devastating ACL tear and the subsequent surgery that threatened my fencing career to the grueling recovery process that tested my limits, it has been a journey of resilience, determination, and unwavering support. After six months of rehabilitation, I am beyond thrilled to share that I have received medical clearance to return to competitive sports.

However, that’s not all. I have been keeping this secret for a while now, one that I have cherished and guarded closely, even from my family. Today, I am proud to announce that I am switching my fencing nationality from Italy to Monaco. This decision has been a deeply personal and emotional one, driven by my love to Monaco, my home, and the desire to represent Monaco on the global stage.

I owe a debt of gratitude to my former team for shaping me into the athlete I am today. Now, as I embark on this new chapter representing Monaco, I carry with me the lessons and memories that have defined my journey so far.

Je suis heureux (se) de vous annoncer mon changement de nationalité sportive, passant de l'Italie à Monaco. C'est une décision qui me remplit de fierté et d'un profond sentiment d'appartenance. Merci à tous ceux qui ont rendu cela possible et qui continuent à me soutenir dans cette nouvelle aventure 🙌🏻

I am thrilled for what lies ahead and am setting my sights on qualifying for Paris 2024. Together, let's write the next chapter of this incredible journey. Merci infiniment. 🇲🇨🤺❤️

view all 10,739 comments

pascale.leclerc.355 C'est une nouvelle très excitante, mon chéri ! Je suis impatiente de te voir aux Jeux Olympiques représentant Monaco! ❤️🇲🇨 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc Merci maman pour ton soutien sans fin!! Je t'aime tellement!! 😭❤️

username1 OUR FAVORITE LECLERC REPRESENTING MONACO!! 🙌🏻

username2 OMG imagine if y/n won a medal in the Paris 2024, she’ll be the first one to win a medal for Monaco in the olympics!! 😭❤️

username3 charles winning the monaco gp and y/n winning the olympics 2024, imagine the POWER. prince and princess of Monaco 👏🏻

username4 MANIFESTING PARIS 2024!! 🗣️

carlossainz55 Vamos, y/n!! ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

scuderiaferrari Congratulations to our favorite Leclerc!! ❤️❤️❤️ ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

charles_leclerc I can’t believe that I’ll find out this amazing news online?! Félicitations à notre petite sœur! Je sais que tu vas faire des merveilles, tu es une formidable escrimeuse. Il n'y a aucun doute que tu te qualifieras pour Paris 2024! Nous t'aimons tellement ❤️ ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc tbf, i never told a single soul abt this, and it was really hard keeping it from you guys!!! But thank you so much, charlieee 🥺❤️ ♥︎ liked by charles_leclerc

pierregasly Secure that gold medal! ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

username5 i’m a new fan of f1 and i just found out that charles has a younger sister?!

username6 yes! she’s the youngest of the leclercs and she’s a fencer!! there’s a thread about her on the x app!!!

haterusername1 she’s gonna be losing left and right. italy is at the top of the game when it comes to fencing, this transfer is literally a bad move for her lmao can’t wait to see her lose lol

TWITTER POST

ynleclerc

liked by pascale.leclerc.355, arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc and 465,323 others

ynleclerc new season, same dream. 🤺🇲🇨 let’s go! ❤️🔥

view all 12,838 comments

pascale.leclerc.355 Je suis tellement excitée, mon cher! Faisons honneur à nous-mêmes et à Monaco! 🇲🇨💕 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc Merci maman, je t'aime!! ❤️

landonorris PARIS 2024 HERE WE COME!! ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc hold your horses there, norris. i have yet to win the championships 😂

landonorris already claiming and manifesting it

username7 OLYMPIAN Y/N LETS FUCKING GOOOOOO

username8 MANIFESTING SO HARD FOR THE QUALIFYING

username9 if she qualifies for Paris 2024, i’m shaving my eyebrows ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

username10 NOT Y/N LIKING THE COMMENT 😭😭😭

username9 QUEEN I- 😭😭😭

haterusername2 she’ll be demolished by the other fencing team, knowing that the monaco’s fencing team are weak. haven’t even won any medals in the olympics lol, as if she’ll be able to qualify in the Paris 2024 🤥🫠

haterusername3 totally agree! not all these people hyping her up just bc she is some famous person’s sister. tbh, her fencing is literally average.

username10 omfg shut up you boomers. bet a hundred bucks that you cant’t even do what she does LMFAO speaking as if you have fenced in your whole life.

ynleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, landonorris and 687,943 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and scuderiaferrari

ynusername supporting my fav ferrari bros charles_leclerc & carlossainz55 before heading off to Cairo. Forza Ferrari! ❤️

view all 15,839 comments

scuderiaferrari it was such an honor to be graced by your presence, our favorite ferrari girl! ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc I had a very amazing time. thank you, ferrari! ❤️

landonorris WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME YOU’LL BE ATTENDING THE GP 😭 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc SORRY I FORGOT TO TELL YOU OMG 😭 I’LL MAKE IT UP TO YOU NEXT TIME!!

oscarpiastri I thought you’re team papaya 😔 heart been broke too many times 💔 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc i’m so sorry my nephew 😔💔

oscarpiastri we’re the same age 😐

ynleclerc but you’re my bro’s child 😔 btw, say hi to lily for me!! miss hanging out with her.

oscarpiastri will do 👍🏻 lilyzneimer y/n says hi and told me that she missed hanging out with you

username11 OSCAR WTF 😭😭😭

mclaren pls be in our garage next time 😔💔 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

scuderiaferrari back off sis, she’s ours ✋🏻😐

username12 not ferrari and mclaren fighting for her in the comsec 😭

fencing_fie

liked by ynleclerc, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, and 987,745 others

tagged: ynleclerc, paris2024, olympics

fencing_fie On her way to Paris 2024, ynleclerc is inspiring the next generation in 🇲🇨

view all 36,873 comments

ynleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, lilyzneimer, and 1,673,992 others

ynusername I can’t stop crying. We did it kids.

OFFICIALLY QUALIFIED FOR THE PARIS OLYMPICS 🇲🇨🥹❤️

Qualifying for the Paris 2024 Olympics is another check in my list, and representing Monaco makes it even more special. This journey has been long. Series of heartbreaks and tears, some milestones…but whatever happens, I am happy and thankful to be where I am right now and meet such wonderful people around the world.

To my family. Maman, Lorenzo, Charles, and Arthur, thank you for never giving up on me and my dreams. For sticking with me through thick and thin, especially during the challenging times after my ACL tear and surgery, I know that I was unbearable that that time, crying 24/7 because I kept on thinking that it might be the end of my career, but your love and encouragement has been my strength. To my medical team, thank you for pushing me in getting back on my feet and giving me chance to chase my dreams once again.

Le plus beau des rêves se réalise aujourd’hui. Merci à tous pour votre soutien. Je suis prêt pour ce nouveau chapitre!

Love, y/n 🤍

view all 57,939 comments

scuderiaferrari CONGRATULATIONS TO OUR FAV FERRARI GIRL!!! ❤️🔥

ynleclerc thank you, admin 🥺❤️

lilymhe i know that i might be beheaded by my own country, BUT FUCK IT LETS GO MONACO!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

username13 OMF LILY 😭😭😭

mclaren WAY TO GO Y/N!! 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

username10 how are we feeling today? better prepare your eyebrow username9

username9 already prepared and accepted that i’ll be shaving my eyebrows ✊🏻

ynleclerc tag me when you do it…JK pls don’t!! i don’t want your mom to be angry at me 😭

username9 OMSJDJEJDJWKDK

landonorris SEATED. READY. FRONT ROW. ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

username14 BOOKED MY FLIGHT TO PARIS FOR THE OLYMPICS, CANT WAIT

username15 MOTHER.

francisca.cgomes YESSSS GIRL YOU GOOOOOOOOOO 🙌🏻🔥💪🏻 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

alexandrasaintmleux congratulations!!! we are all behind you!! 🇲🇨 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

lilyzneimer oscar and i are ready, we will be there!!! ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

arthur_leclerc YEEEEEEEES congratulations, petite soeur! celebration is in order 😁🥳🤩 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, georgerussell63, and 2,473,973 others

tagged: ynleclerc

charles_leclerc I can’t believe it, our petite soeur just qualified at Paris 2024!

Remember when you first picked up a fencing foil, nearly took out the living room lamp and maman getting angry 😂 all of us knew that you are destined for greatness right then and there (or at least destined to break a lot of household items). Fast forward to today, screaming your heart out in victory, making us all incredibly proud!

I’m so excited to see you compete in Paris 2024. I know you’ll do great. Congratulations, superstar! You made us all proud. Let’s get ready for Paris!

OUR BABY SISTER MADE IT TO THE OLYMPICS!

view all 68,938 comments

ynleclerc YOURE MAKING ME CRY AGAIN 😭 thank you, charlie. love you!!! 🥹🫶🏻 ♥︎ liked by charles_leclerc

lewishamilton Congratulations, ynleclerc! I know you’ll do everyone and Monaco proud! 💪🏻❤️ ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc thank you so much, sir lewis!

georgerussell63 Congratulations! Carmen and I will be there in support! ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

pierregasly gold medal secured in the bag! ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

username16 PRINCE AND PRINCESS OF MONACO! 🇲🇨

username17 charles and y/n making monaco proud!! 😭❤️

username18 the moment y/n wins the olympics, prepare to be sick of me. PREPARE TO BE SICK OF ME!!!!!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for turning someone in for academic dishonesty?

I’m an American IB diploma candidate, and this ask does center around that, so sorry if we all just sound unbearably seventeen-years-old.

If you don’t know what the IB diploma is, think of it as if you had to write a bunch of essays and take a bunch of classes and do a bunch of service hours and then take AP tests on all those classes and add the AP scores together, and if they add up to a certain number, you get a special diploma that looks good to colleges.

Only eight people in the entire grade (we’re seniors and our exams are happening so we’re at the very end) are left in the IB diploma program right now because we made it this far and are all hoping our exam scores and essays. The program isn’t super popular at our school so we tend to have to mostly prepare ourselves for exams and such, so we’re all very proud of ourselves for getting this far and hoping that when our scores come out we get the diploma.

In short, we’ve done TONS of work. TONS OF WORK. And we haven’t received the amount of support that some IB schools are able to give. And suddenly, one of the IB diploma candidates admits in the group chat, “yeah, chatgpt wrote all of my IB essays.” If you know stuff about IB, she explicitly admitted to cheating on her Extended Essay, TOK Essay, TOK exhibition, Chemistry HL IA, History HL IA, Literature HL Essay, and Art HL Comparative Study.

That’s hours and hours and hours and hours of work that the rest of the diplomats candidates did that she’s just flippantly admitting she let an AI do for her.

but…….it also wasn’t really any of my business. So I wasn’t sure whether I should tell or not—especially since I’m the known goody-two-shoes of the group and I didn’t want to be viewed as a tattletale.

I asked two of the diploma candidates I’m friends with what they thought. One of them said “don’t be a snitch,” and the other said she wasn’t sure and kinda felt like I should talk. So… split response.

I was leaning towards “don’t be a snitch,” but eventually I just felt really indignant that this girl and I might receive the same end result for doing wildly different amounts of work. And I had evidence that she cheated—she admitted it herself. So I went to the school’s IB coordinator and I talked. I showed the screenshot. I essentially betrayed one of the candidates in a very tight knit group of students who are all breaking our backs to get this diploma with little to no IB-specific support from our teachers (our classes are all co-seated with non-IB-test-takers, who take up most of the class, which is an entirely different issue), but now it turns out one of us wasn’t even doing the work the whole time…

So I did it and it went to the administration and they’re “deciding how to proceed.”

Reason I’m worried I’m TA: she trusted us with that information and I told on her

Reason I think I might not be TA: it feels unfair that we should have the same shot at getting the IB diploma when the nights I stayed up crafting the perfect extended essay were the same nights she asked chatgpt to write her an essay and then moved on with her life and somehow did it well enough to not get caught.

AITA?

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Workout Buddy

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymojs

Synopsis: some drabbles of you growing up as the boys’ workout buddy

“I wanna try!” Dean turned in surprise when he saw you eyeing the weight rack that he’d just finished using. He wasn’t sure how you’d managed to get into the motel gym until he saw Sam hopping on the treadmill—he was supposed to keep you in the room.

“Really man?” Dean called out to Sam.

“She’s fine,” Sam insisted before putting in his headphones and starting up the treadmill. Dean huffed, looking around for something for you to do.

“Here,” he said finally, grabbing a weight bar that had no weights attached and handing it to you. “Like this.” He demonstrated with his own bar—although his had plenty of weight on it, of course.

“I do it!” Dean forgot his annoyance when he saw your huge grin as you curled the weight towards you, just as Dean had.

“Yeah, yeah you are,” Dean encouraged. “Now come over here and I’ll show you how to use the leg machine.”

…

“Hi Sammy!” Sam grunted in surprise when you suddenly jumped on his back. He collapsed from his former push-up position, almost smacking his chin on the floor before stopping himself.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“I wanna workout with you!” You giggled. “Now up!”

Sam groaned, but listened anyway, pushing himself up before lowering back down, trying to continue his push-up count from before you’d jumped on him.

“Fourteen…” he muttered under his breath. “Fifteen…”

He was struggling to keep count with you giggling and squirming on his back, and eventually he gave up, just lowering and raising himself sporadically to give you a better ride. Your happy squeals and loud laughs were well worth the interrupted routine.

…

“C’mon Dean, it’s not too heavy!”

“Kid, there’s no way you’re gonna lift that.”

“Oh yeah? Watch me.” You pushed Dean aside and took his place under the weight rack, waiting to make sure he was there to spot you—you may have been acting tough, but Dean could lift a ton, and you were just a little afraid that he was right, and his current set was too heavy for you; not that you’d ever tell him that.

“Ok, easy,” Dean said as you slowly pushed up on the bar.

“I got it,” you insisted, your face screwing up in effort as you pushed with all your might. The bar clanged against its holder as it—very slowly, and with great effort—began to lift. “I got it!” You said, triumph painting your words this time. “I got it, I—“ you had slowly lowered the bar, but suddenly you found that you couldn’t lift it back up into the holder. “I don’t got it, I don’t got it, Dean—“

“I got you,” Dean soothed, grabbing the bar quickly with both hands before its weight could overwhelm you. The two of you managed to return the bar to its original position before you quickly stepped away.

“Ok so maybe that’s enough for today,” you insisted, breathing hard.

“Hey, you did good,” Dean said with a proud smile. “But you’re right, you’re done for now.”

…

“Can I come?” Sam turned to see you all dressed and ready to go for a run.

“You sure you want to?” He asked.

“Hey, I’m not Dean,” you insisted. “I happen to think that a little jogging now and then won’t kill you. So are we going or what?”

The two of you returned almost an hour later, sweaty and exhausted yet smiling.

“Gosh, now there’s two of them,” Dean groaned when he caught sight of you. “Kid, haven’t I told you how crazy running is? I mean, take one look at Sam and you’ll see it,” Dean continued, gesturing at Sam. You had to admit—Sam was a sweaty mess.

“Well when we’re running from werewolves and you run out of breath and get eaten first, then we’ll see who’s laughing,” you said with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dena grumbled. “Go shower, both of you, you stink.”

“Hey, thanks for coming,” Sam said to you as you both headed down the hallway of the bunker to your rooms. “It’s nice to have a running pal.”

“Right back at you. Now get out of here, Dean’s right, you stink.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley

[pressureplus]

Can you please do Parental Headcannons i've seen romantic ones all over the intermet and they're well written but i crave Parental Seb headcannons i see him more as a father figure☹️

Of course! We here at PressurePlus believe in loving Sebastian Your Way™️, and not everyone’s feelings on the fish are romantic/sexual!

♡Parental Sebastian Solace Headcannons♡

Warnings: Sebastian acts like your dad

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

He wasn’t always standing over your shoulder and fussing over you

He actually didn’t like you at all at first, much like every other expendable

Found you annoying, irritating, and then slowly you started to grow on him

It started with coming in heavily injured and buying a medkit off of him, practically begging to just sit down in the corner of his room for a while

Then asking if you could nap in here since it was the only safe place to do so

Which turned into sitting quietly nearby in his shop in hopes you could just relax for a moment

Suddenly he went from barely tolerating to kind of…worrying over you

Your injuries were nothing to scoff at, and you really did seem genuine whenever you said you just wanted to take a nap here for a while

And suddenly he was worried you weren’t eating enough, having definitely lost weight since the last time he saw you

Sure he never says anything about it

Heaven forbid he be genuine or emotional

Starts giving you food with whatever items you buy, and sometimes he uses the excuse that he just has a ton of extra stuff that’s supposedly about to go bad

This is a lie, check the packaging of some of the snacks and you’ll realize they’re just fine

Makes up some bullshit about trying something new out for his shop if you ask (never gives anyone else food)

Starts to grow softer as the days drag on, enough so that if you do something he’s particularly proud of? He ruffles your hair.

Some of that instinct to protect things smaller than him just happens to encompass you. Is he awful, manipulative, and outright fucking mean? Yes. But he has decided you are acceptable

Therefore he practically follows you around in the vents from time to time

Has probably fought off Pandemonium for you once or twice and you have no idea it even happened

Has handed you a radio to talk with him. He’ll even do special drop offs for you, but ONLY if you have the exact number of data on hand

Don’t abuse this, he will take the radio away. He’s TRUSTING you to be good

“Yeah yeah, I saw what you did. Very cool. I know Pinkie has been bothering you a lot, but I told you it’s not too bad. I was right, wasn’t I? Have a cookie.”

He says it likes he’s insulting you but he genuinely hands you one of those prepackaged cookies

His tone control is good, which means you will almost never hear softness or worry unless you are at the BRINK of death

One day, you’ll manage to get out of here. He doesn’t usually have faith in expendables but he’s got a lot of faith in you. Is he particularly excited that you’re going to get the crystal? No. But a part of him wants you to get out of here

When you get there, and you radio in that you’re standing in front of the crystal he’ll respond with immediate irritation

“What do you want me to say? You’re at the crystal. Don’t just stand there looking dumb, fucking grab it. Thats what you wanted, right?”

You’ll have expected his usual attitude, his snippy tone. What you won’t expect is him breaking the radio silence as you reach in to put the crystal into its container

“I’m proud of you, don’t fuck it up.”

[caffeinateddino]

i wanna see Kuchel Ackerman interacting with reader SO BAD. so here it is! levi x reader modern au (Gender neutral pronouns for reader. SFW)

---

You stepped into Levi's teashop again, just like you did every morning for the past four months. Before any other customer came in, you’d arrive, order the exact same tea, flirt with him (or at least try to), get rejected, and then leave.

"Hi, handsome!" you chirped as you walked through the door, flashing him your brightest smile. "You're looking as pret-tea as usual." So proud of your cheeky pickup lines, weren’t you?

Levi sighed, his brows furrowing as he wiped the counter. "Good morning," he muttered, not looking up. "Regular?"

Oh, isn't he just the sweetest? Already knowing your favorite order—you wish. He knew a ton of things about you by now, but not because he was interested. No, it was because you reintroduced yourself AT LEAST twice a week. He knew your name, age, job, the name of your first fish, and even that middle school friend you still had beef with. He knew it all.

"Aww, look at you! Memorizing my order?" you teased, leaning on the counter to get a better look at him.

"No," he deadpanned. "It’s just the cheapest tea in the shop, and you order it every time you come in." He stepped back like you were a germ that he had to stay away from

“There’s a customer already?” an unfamiliar voice called from the prep area. You frowned—new employee? But no, as soon as she stepped out, you realized this wasn’t just anyone. She was one of the most jaw-dropping women you'd ever seen. Long black hair, steel-grey eyes, pale skin, and a sweet smile as she walked to the counter. Definitely related to Levi.

Ignoring Levi, she smiled directly at you. “Hi, what can we get for you today?”

Okay, you were persistent, but you weren’t dumb. She was obviously related to him. His sister? His mom? Either way, time to impress.

“I already got the ord—” Levi started, but you cut him off.

“Hi! I love your eyes!” you said, beaming at her. She smiled, a little shyly. “You’re so sweet, thank you.”

“I’m changing my order,” you declared, causing Levi to pause and raise an eyebrow. “I’ll have a cup of jasmine tea,” you continued, scanning the menu above. “And, uh... lemon cheesecake, and that thing.. I can’t pronounce.”

You were picking the most expensive items on the menu. Levi couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at his lips.

“Sure, dear, we’ll get it right out for you,” the woman—probably his mom—replied sweetly, turning to help Levi. Getting a smile from someone related to him? Wild. You thought his whole bloodline had to be as stoic as he was.

After you got your tea and moved to a table by the window, you glanced back at the counter. Kuchel nudged Levi with her elbow, her eyes glinting with amusement. "So... who’s that?" she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice.

"Tch. No one. Just a regular customer," Levi replied with a shrug, continuing to wipe the counter as if it was his life’s mission.

“Really? They seemed interested in you,” she added, clearly enjoying the moment. Levi sighed. Maybe bringing his mother here had been a mistake. “They are,” he admitted, moving to brew a fresh pot of tea.

Kuchel’s smile widened. "They're pretty, aren’t they?" He paused, visibly uncomfortable but unable to deny it. “… I guess?”

"Alright then," Kuchel said, clearly up to something, before leaving the counter to sit across from you.

'Oh god,' Levi thought, feeling a headache coming on. He knew what his mom was about to do…

You blinked in surprise as Levi’s mom—Kuchel —sat right across from you, a warm smile on her face. You glanced at Levi, who was now standing behind the counter with the most deadpan expression, silently begging the universe to stop this.

“So, how long have you been coming to this shop?” Kuchel asked, leaning in like this was a cozy little chat between best friends.

You tried not to choke on your tea. “Uh, about four months now. I, uh, really like the tea here.”

And the view, you thought but wisely kept to yourself.

“Four months! That’s dedication,” she remarked with a knowing smile. “Levi must really enjoy seeing such a loyal customer every morning.” Levi’s eye twitched from across the room.

“Uh, yeah, it’s nice to see a familiar face,” you said, laughing nervously. Kuchel nodded, clearly entertained. “You know, he doesn’t usually get attached to customers, but I think you might be special.” She paused dramatically, then added, “He talks about you all the time.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Wait, what?

Levi nearly dropped the teapot. “Mom,” he said sharply, voice low with a warning edge. what the fuck now

“Oh, hush, I’m just making conversation,” Kuchel waved him off, fully embracing her mom duties. “He mentioned just the other day how you always come in so cheerful and—” she leaned in as if sharing a secret—“how you flirt with him every morning.”

Your face burned, and Levi’s hand gripped the counter so tightly it might break.

You stammered. “H-he told you that?”

“Well, no, but it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” she winked. “And you know, Levi here could use someone with your energy. He’s always so serious, isn’t he?” She turned her head slightly to address her son. “Levi, dear, you should take some notes—this one knows how to have fun.”

Levi groaned audibly. “Mom, please.”

You almost choked on your tea again. This was both mortifying and the best thing that had ever happened.

Kuchel continued undeterred. “He’s really sweet once you get to know him, you know? Sure, he’s got that broody, ‘I-don’t-care-about-anything’ look, but deep down, he’s very caring. Protective, too. He always makes sure I’m taken care of. Isn’t that right, Levi?”

Levi’s glare could’ve melted steel at this point. “I am right here, Mom.”

“Oh, don’t be so shy,” she teased, ignoring him completely. “What’s your name, dear?” she asked, turning back to you.

You told her, still a bit flustered but managing to smile. Kuchel’s face lit up.

“What a beautiful name! It would sound so lovely with ‘Ackerman,’ don’t you think?”

You almost spat out your tea. Levi nearly knocked over a stack of teacups. “Mom!”

Kuchel giggled, clearly enjoying every second of this. “What? I’m just saying. No harm in thinking about the future, right?”

Levi closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath, as if summoning every ounce of patience in his body. “I’m going to the back,” he muttered, turning away before his mom could cause any further damage.

Kuchel just smiled after him, unfazed. “Well, he’ll come around eventually. Boys like him always do. Anyway, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, dear. And don’t worry—I’ll make sure he brews your tea just right.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at this point. “Thank you. I’ll definitely keep coming back.”

As Levi disappeared into the back of the shop, probably questioning every life decision that led him to this moment, Kuchel leaned in one last time. “Don’t give up on him,” she whispered conspiratorially. “He needs someone to loosen him up. And between you and me…” She grinned, eyes twinkling. “I think you’re perfect for the job.”

You were certain Levi was somewhere back there facepalming so hard, but honestly? You were starting to like Kuchel a lot.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + fourteen

authors note: swear this was the chapter that never fucking ended. it's essentially part one because even with how long it is, i still have a lot to cover. 😩

anywayssss, some foreshadowing, a ton of fluff, and some long awaited moments below.

if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: fluff, angst, smut

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

masterlist

words: 15k (sorrows, sorrows, prayers)

“Did they hurt?” The question is asked while sitting on top of Roman’s lap, the default seat for her, it seems, whenever she’s in his presence. Her fingers ghost over his inked skin, slightly fascinated by the intricacies of the design. Tribal. A nod to his heritage and his story.

Like most, if not all things with Solana, he answers truthfully. “Not really, but I have a high pain tolerance, so it’s hard to say.” For some reason, that makes her frown a bit. Was that a natural inherited thing or some level of tolerance built up from years of said pain? “Do you want any?”

She nods, tracing one of the patterns with her finger. “In Mexican culture, Hummingbirds represent many things. Strength. Love. But, the thing my mom always focused on and stressed to me is they’re also messengers from the spirits in heaven. That…they remind us of lost loved ones.” Her shoulders lift a little. Small, sad smile on her face. “Sometimes, I think I’d like to get one tattooed on me. Like…like a tribute to her, but then I think about the needle and don’t know if that could trigger me somehow.”

It could trigger from a couple different angles, but namely her trauma with knives as well as her history of self-harming. But, Solana is certain Roman already recognizes this, thus her not going into specifics. “I don’t know. I’ll….I’ll think about it some more.”

Roman nods, offering, “if you decide to get it, I’ll go with you.” 

It’s a thoughtful gesture, not entirely surprising. Solana is starting to recognize there’s very little the man underneath her wouldn’t do for her. 

Appreciatively kissing his cheek, she murmurs, “thank you.” Biting on her lip, she foolishly tries to see if she can get something else out of him. “Speaking of going….”

Roman chuckles. “I’m not telling you.” He rolls his eyes as she pouts almost, his thumb going to her cheek, the cut almost entirely healed. “You’ll find out in a couple hours.”

It’s been almost a week since the gala, and the temperature has settled tremendously. Roman still doesn’t like thinking about it, thinking about how he lost his fucking shit but mostly at the fact that Solana was attacked. 

He’s about to start having someone with her at all times. Even in the bathroom. 

Roman has also noticed there seems to be some conflicted emotions on Solana’s end regarding what happened in the bathroom. Namely because she caught wind of Wes injuries, injuries that are truly tame compared to what Roman would have done and will do once he gets his hands on that son of a bitch.

But, he is him, and Solana is her. They are very different people. She is gentle where he is hard, so while there is still that adrenaline and proudness she was experiencing at defending herself as well as she did, he can see it’s something that’s bothering her.

He’s tried to bring it up, but she shuts down, so he’s left it alone out of respect.

But, with her birthday being tomorrow and them leaving in a couple hours for their trip, he’s hopeful getting away will be good for her. For them. 

She then asks a bit of a silly question considering who she’s talking to. Roman plans for every little thing, from the most major detail to the thing that most likely won’t happen but still serves as something that needs to be accounted for. “Is….is it at least domestic? I don’t have a passport.” 

“Yes, you do.” He opens the first drawer of his desk, pulling out a small Louis Vuitton passport cover and hands it to her.

Solana looks down with a gasp seeing that she, in fact, has a passport. A brand new, unstamped passport. “How did you—”

An easy answer. “I’m a billionaire, Solana. There’s nothing I can’t buy or make happen.”

It makes sense, but it doesn’t do much to chip away the tremendous amount of guilt and how bad she feels in learning that Roman’s birthday was back in May, and no one said or did a thing about it or acknowledged it.

She can still feel her stomach dropping when she asked a few days about when his is, and he calmly informed that it had already passed. That hurt. Truly. To know what should be a special occasion was essentially treated as any other day.

His explanation made sense. He expressed not liking to acknowledge his birthday because of what happened when he was 10. She can understand that. She does understand that, but it doesn’t make her feel any less sad at the fact that she didn’t even know it was her husband’s freaking birthday. 

Solana expresses said concern. “But…it’s….it’s not fair we’re doing all this for my birthday, and I didn't even know yours—”

“Hey—” He interrupts her, his hands cupping her face. “Don’t do that.” He pushes back some of her hair. “My story is my story. Not yours.” She opens her mouth clearly to protest or counter when his eyes take on a mischievous glint. “Besides, seeing you half naked most of the day for a week? Might as well be my fucking birthday.”

Solana rolls her eyes. He has a way of making her feel better in the most interesting and often raunchy sort of way. Blushing and smiling at his suggestive comment, she shrugs, admitting, “there are more bathing suits in my suitcase than clothes.”

“Good. The less clothes you have on, the better.” Her cheeks must be a red mess. Roman taps on her hip, gesturing for her to stand up. He also stands and takes her hand in his. “Come here. There’s something I want to show you.”

Solana looks down at her outfit which is most definitely nothing appropriate enough to leave the house in. “Are we leaving the house or—”

“No.” His answer is simple and to the point that she doesn’t really press him for more information as he guides her through the house. A frown does fall on her face, however, when she sees he’s taken her down the hall where he’d said construction was previously taking place.

It’s only then she finally asks, “what—”

“Close your eyes.”

Solana makes a face. “Roman, what are you—”

He steps towards her, pushing back her hair. “You know I don’t like repeating myself.” If she was anyone else, Solana is certain his tone would be much different. A lot darker, harsher. But, it’s not. Just….strangely calm. 

Blowing out a breath, she relents, realizing there’s not really an option for anything else. “Okay.” Shutting her eyes, she allows him to continue to guide her, stopping for a moment as she hears a door open. He directs her to walk through said opened door followed by a light switch, the presence of that light shining against her closed eyes. 

Solana feels him shift behind her, his arms snaking around her, mouth dipping to her ear. “Open em’.”

Solana doesn't need to be told twice, and as soon as they’re open, a gasp leaves her mouth. Naturally, she walks away from him, deeper into the room that has an open floor plan, walls almost entirely lined with white, empty shelves. Bookshelves. Against the walls and the cutout part of the room. Not to be confused with the other nook that’s occupied by seating, pillows, and anything else someone would need if indulging in reading or writing.

Walking further into the space, she sees another area clearly curated for another purpose. Art. A table to create on, two easels, countless art supplies all perfectly situated near the bay window that allows for natural sunlight. 

The perfect place to create. 

Taken completely back by the surprise of it all, Solana turns to Roman, stammering to ask, “is–is this for me?”

“You know it’s damn sure not for me.” He steps toward her again, gently pulling her against him. “You were outgrowing that space. And your journals are personal. They shouldn’t be kept at work.” His thumb brushes across her bottom lip. “They should be here. This is your home now.”

“Roman….” She looks around again, tears growing in her eyes. 

He continues to explain. “It would have been ready sooner, but when I found out you like art, I had them add that.” He gestures to the corner that has to be any artist's dream. “I’m not smart about a lot of that shit, so just let me know anything else you ne—”

He’s silenced by Solana practically jumping him, angling her body to face him as she wraps her arms around his neck. A hug, deep and sentimental. It takes him off guard for a second, Roman unused to such….affection.

But, the discomfort settles into something that almost feels natural. His hand on the small of her back as he chuckles. “I’m gonna take it that you like it then.” It’s not necessarily a question as much as an assessment. 

She gives a watery chuckle, pulling back and nodding. “I love it.” Her voice breaks. “No…..no one’s ever done anything like this for me before.” It goes without saying this doesn't include her mom, who Roman is almost certain did more for her than anyone ever could. Especially when she needed it the most.

Doesn’t mean he can’t do his part though. 

She swallows, whispering as he wipes away her tears. “Thank you.” 

“What I tell you about that, huh?” He ghosts his lips over hers, reminding yet again. “You never have to thank me for anything.” Roman kisses her forehead, seeing how her eyes shut from feeling content and partially overwhelmed. It brings a small smile to his face. “Happy birthday, Solana….”

________

“Oh my god….”

Roman doesn’t have to be looking up to know what’s caught Solana’s attention. It’s obvious by the way the SUV has come to a stop, shifting into park as they’ve clearly reached their destination.

And she’s clearly looking up at said destination. Well, the conduit to help them travel to said destination.

When he finishes sending out an email, one of the last before he goes into somewhat work blackout—because he never be fully disconnected—he looks up to see Solana still staring out the window. 

“Is that….is that a private jet?”

Smirking, Roman slides his phone in his bag and removes his seatbelt. “You really think I fly commercial?”

It’s not intended to come across as rude, and it isn't judging by her small smile. “They’re bigger than I imagined….”

“Mine is.” Double entendre, if he really wanted to make her blush, but he keeps it PG. For now. “I’m tall. Need the leg room.”

Roman exits the SUV at the same time the driver opens the door for Solana to do the same. He easily circles back around to her just in time for her to sling her small backpack on her shoulder and adjust her ball cap. In sneakers without any sort of height boost, she looks even tinier than she already is, especially compared to his massive build. 

Taking her hand, Roman asks, “you ready?”

She nods as he leads them over to the descended stairs where the pilot and two flight attendants stand outside, greeting them. The older man, Bob, he thinks, lifts his hat and nods respectfully in their direction.

“Mr. Reigns. Mrs. Reigns. Everything is just as you requested.”

Roman only gives a nod to acknowledge things being exactly as they should. His way.

He motions for Solana to walk up ahead of him, mainly so he can enjoy the view of her ass in the tight ass outfit she has on but also out of manners.

Manners he only seems to be able to find in her presence. 

She loiters a bit near the entrance, moving aide for him to also fully enter but still stands almost frozen, clearly taken back by the interior. 

“This is….”

“The best,” he finishes for her, tossing his bag on the closest beige sofa that lines both sides of the jet. Roman moves over to her, hand palming her ass as he dips his head to whisper in her ear. “I don’t accept anything less.”

She giggles against him, the sound hands down one of the best songs on the soundtrack when they’re interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

Momentarily considering murder for probably the fifth time today, Roman turns to see Paul standing at the bottom of the steps. Roman literally forgot this man was in the SUV behind them, coming to see them off.

Paul lifts his hand to shield his eyes from the sun, asking with all of the unease. “A word, please, my Tribal Chief?”

The automatic answer would be no if not for Solana turning around and placing her hand on his chest. A frequent gesture he never gets tired of. Any touch from her is always welcomed.

Her smile dips a bit as she asks with the same level of unease shared by Paul, “is—is it okay if I look around?”

Her question makes him scowl. Her asking him permission to do anything feels uncomfortable as fuck. “You don’t have to ask my permission for shit. Anything that’s mine is yours.”

His answer seems to ease her anxiety at least as she nods, kisses his cheek and starts to explore the rest of the jet. Roman’s eyes linger on her a bit before he switches his attention to his annoying ass head council.

Stomping down the steps with all of the agitation, he barks, “talk.”

Paul clears his throat, and Roman’s already regretting his decision to choose his Wise Man over his fine ass wife.

“Sir, I—I understand you wanting to take the girl—”

“Solana,” Roman corrects one time only. Because that was Paul’s one time referring to Solana as anything other than her name or his wife. “Her name is Solana.”

Paul swallows. “Of course.” He’s a quick learner, smartly running it back for a second, correct time. “I understand you wanting to take Solana away for her birthday, but is the timing really great? There’s so much work—”

“There’s always work to do, Wise Man. That’s why I delegated the appropriate tasks to cover the appropriate work while I’m gone.” It was a bit trickier than that as delegation has never been a preference for Roman. His ultimate preference is to always handle shit on his own. And truth be told, he made sure to sign off, approve, create, and orchestrate any major moves that needed to be done before leaving. The remaining tasks were split among Jimmy, Jey, and Rikishi. And he has no doubt they’ll be on top of it. Because as always, when it comes to business, the twins never miss. It’s just any other time they’re bumbling idiots who give Roman migraines from time to time. 

“Of course. Always so conscientious, my Tribal Chief.” Paul’s smile makes Roman want to turn and walk away yet again for the second time in two minutes. Granted, that’s his usual disposition when interacting with anyone other than his wife. “I just—for you to be out of the country for almost a week. Well, it’s just—”

“Wise Man.”

Paul’s eyes light up, and it has nothing to do with the sun that’s shining in his direction. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“How long have I been the Tribal Chief?”

The answer is almost instantaneous, a small smile falling on Paul’s pudgy face. “Since you were eighteen-years-old.”

“How old am I now?”

“My Tribal Chief turned 39 on May 25th of this year.”

“And in all that time, how many vacations have I taken?”

There’s brief hesitation, eyes traveling for a brief second, searching for the answer. “N–none, my Tribal Chief.”

“Exactly.” Roman lifts his shades and sets them atop his head. “So, if I want to take a couple fucking days off to help my wife celebrate her birthday, then that’s what I’m gonna fucking do, and I don’t have to answer to a damn person about it. Because I feel like you’re questioning me, Wise Man, and I don’t get questioned. Is that understood?”

Paul’s fat cheeks are painted an ugly shade of red as he stammers out, “y–yes, my Tribal Chief.”

Semi pleased with the acquiescence, Roman turns around and calls out coldly, “only contact me for emergencies.”

Roman is almost certain Paul will be too scared shitless to risk his wrath with an outreach that’s only subjectively considered an emergency vs Roman’s definition. He’ll probably task Rikishi or the twins with the task. 

Roman would prefer their old man over them. Less antics and constant triggers for his anger.

The head of the table finds his wife still in the main section of the jet, sitting down on the sofa, legs pulled up under her, phone in hand. Hearing his return, she smiles, sharing, “I was just texting Naomi to make sure she grabbed Dulce’s favorite toy.”

Roman chuckles and walks over, joining her on the sofa. “The dog has a favorite toy?”

Smiling, she explains, “it’s the one she plays with the most. Her avocado.” Solana angles her body so she’s facing him more versus the other sofa that lines the other side of the plane. “Do—do you think she’ll be okay? We’ve never left her before.”

To be fair, Roman briefly thought about that. She’s so fucking little and still a puppy, so leaving her could be risky. But, he also knows that damn thing seems to always be hopping on Naomi and Bayley’s lap, so she should be fine.

“She’ll probably sleep the majority of the time we’re gone.”

Solana rolls her pretty eyes, her mouth curving into a small smile. “I’m serious, Roman.”

“So am I.” He sighs and brings his arm around her, pulling her into his side. “She’ll be fine, Solana. It’s not like we left her with Jey and psycho ass Nicki with their bad ass kids.”

Forever the saint, she pouts and lightly scolds him. “That’s not nice. I’m sure they’re not bad.”

“You ain’t met them yet,” Roman scoffs. “Why you think Jey always at our place?”

Smiling cheekily, she gently points out, “you said it’s because I keep feeding them.”

“That too.” Roman trails his finger up and down her upper forearm, her soft skin a contrast to his coarse fingertips. Her perfume, something sweet, vanilla, and gourmand doesn’t help him keep focus on the conversation nor the fact that she’s so close to him, their bodies touching him. His desire for physical contact, of any kind, with her has been heightened a bit in recent days. “That’s why you don’t feed fucking strays. Cause they keep coming back.”

Solana peers up at him, giggling, “you’re so mean to them sometimes.” Shifting her position so that her legs are laid out the opposite side of Roman, her back pressed against his side. His big arm is over her chest, her hands on his forearm. “I think….I think you like them more than you let on.”

“Really?” 

She nods, further explaining. “I don’t….I don’t think you would let them be as close to you as they are if you didn’t.”

Perceptive. Roman pegged that about Solana a while ago, when they first started writing, her previous preferred form of communication. She’s not entirely wrong. As fucking crazy Jimmy and Jey drive Roman, they’ve also been the two best and really only examples of friendships he has. Not to mention they’re family. 

“They’re….tolerable.”

She looks up at him, asking almost nervously, “and what am I?”

Such a good question that’s both simple and complicated. The easy answer is his wife. That’s just fact. Law. But the complex answer, the complex answer is that she’s so much more than that. That she’s become so much more than that. Where Roman finds himself craving her presence. A rarity for someone who typically avoids and shies away from social interactions like the plague.

Dipping his head to kiss her forehead, he answers in a low, steady voice, “my Lo’u Au.”

Her eyes flutter shut a bit as she murmurs, “it’s not fair you say things to me you know I can’t understand.” Roman watches her once again move around, this time sliding one leg over so that she’s sitting on his lap, straddling him. He doesn’t hesitate in moving his hands to the bottom of her ass, lifting her so she’s closer to him, her breast nearly touching his chest. Solana tilts her head to the side, whispering, “Yo siento muy bien contigo.”

Having her like this, so close against him, it doesn’t help that resolve, doesn’t do shit about the fact that his dick stiffens whenever she touches him. Like she is now. His eyes dip to her lips, so soft and full. “And what does that mean?”

Solana also seems to be on the same wavelength, her eyes also dropping to his mouth as she whispers with a small smile. “I’ll tell you when you tell me.”

Eyes shutting, Roman groans and tugs her even closer, her arms around his neck. “God, you drive me fuckin’ crazy.” Roman kisses her. Kisses her with all of the intensity and desire and borderline need he harbors for this woman.

And then she moans. She fucking moans in his mouth. His dick nearly fucking jerks as he stands up with her in his arms, Solana gasping and breaking the kiss to look around. “Roman….”

He needs to have his mouth on her, lips kissing the underline of her jaw as he brings them to the back of the jet, to the bed. He’s careful in how he lays her down, mindful of how she tugs on his shirt, pulling him on top of her and resuming their passionate kiss. 

Roman’s hands roam her body, but he pays extra attention to her breast, so big and soft, pillow soft under his hand as he kneads them, mindful of the way her nipples continue to harden under his touch.

“Roman….” Solana is breathing heavily, once again breaking their kiss, something he would otherwise be objected to if not for the two tiny words that leave her mouth. “Touch me.” 

His eyes widen a bit as he asks, almost unsure he heard her right. “What?”

Mouth parted, she licks her lips and again reiterates her previous request. “I—I want you to touch me.”

If not for not wanting to insult her intelligence, he’d remind her he is. He's touching her everywhere she’s previously admitted him access to. But, Roman would never do that nor is he stupid. He knows exactly what she’s referring to. And there’s suddenly a part of him that feels bad, wonders if she somehow thought that was the reason for him taking them to the bed. It wasn’t that. He just wanted privacy, wanted to give her that privacy. 

“Solana, I wasn’t—”

“Roman,” she says his name again, firmer, more committed almost to her request. “I trust you.” Three words. Three little words that pack such a heavy, emotional punch. “You’re…you’re going to have to when we finally…” She trails off, shaking her head. “Pl—please.” 

He shuts his eyes, jaw clenching. That one word alone coming from her is such a dangerous thing. Dangerous because it's incapable to say no to.

But, he doesn’t necessarily have to because her hand is on his, slowly moving it down from her breast, traveling down the span of her stomach and the top of her black pants. But instead of remaining there, Solana guides it under her waistband, her tour stopping when the palm of his hand presses softly on her mons pubis, still protected under the cotton of her underwear. Her eyes shut at this contact, but it’s when his fingers flitter near the space between her legs that she gasps.

His eyes snap to hers as he’s quick to ask, “do you want me to stop?”

And she’s immediately shaking her head ‘no,’ explain, “I’m just—not used to it.” She’s already so sensitive to his touch. Roman can’t even imagine what this level of sensitivity is going to look like when they go all the way. “It’s okay.” She’s again reassuring him, even spreading her thighs a bit, giving him better access.

Roman is hard as a fucking rock, but he taps into expert level self-control as he moves his other hand to her waistband, giving a slight tug. “Can I?”

She answers in a soft voice. “Yes.”

Solana lifts her hips as he slides her black pants down her shapely legs, his mouth practically watering to see and have so much of her soft skin exposed to him. He moves his hand to caress the skin of her inner thighs. She sighs, content, and this serves as more motivation to continue his efforts in following through on her task. 

Again, he’s making sure to catch her gaze. “Do….”

And once again, she partially takes him by surprise as she closes her eyes and instead of giving him the approval to remove the only remaining article of clothing keeping her covered from him, Solana takes her fingers to her underwear and pushes down, lifting her hips slightly until they're hooked around her ankles and kicked onto the floor.

Mouth previously watering, Roman feels a sudden, intense amount of dehydration. She’s completely bare and exposed to him, her cunt so smooth and pretty, lips glistening already just from their makeout.

If not for her trauma, he’d have already had this woman more times than he could count.

But, he’d especially already had her in his mouth. Licking his lips, he does his best to keep composure, maintaining the maturity of a grown ass man vs a horny ass teenage boy whose balls haven’t even dropped.

Once more, he asks, “are you sure?”

It might be overkill to some, but one thing’s for certain, he would never go this far without gaining her consent every step of the way. 

She answers, “yes.” 

Roman nods, starting his hand at the top of her belly, gradually teasing it downward until he’s touching her, long fingers gently caressing her lips, the tips of his fingers gathering some of her essence. “How you already this wet for me?”

It’s more rhetorical than anything, but it’s partially fueled with how her stomach caves in a bit just at that initial touch. Her being so responsive to just his hands does wonders for his ego but also fuels his burning to just make her feel good.

Roman uses long, slow strokes along the areas of her vulva, never taking his eyes off her face, mouth dropping open, eyes slamming shut and head craning back. Pleasure. She feels pleasure. That’s what he wants to see. All he wants to see.

There’s not an ounce of discomfort in sight.

“Roman…” Her moaning his name might be his new favorite song. So needy and wanton. It’s got his erection fighting for its life in his boxers. “Shit….”

He smirks a bit. “Must be good if I got you cussing, baby.” It’s evident in the way she becomes swollen underneath his expert touch, eventually exposing her clit. And it’s then that he brings his thumb to her clit, pressing softly, satisfied when she arches against the bed. “That’s it….”

Such light touches, not a finger entered into her yet, and she’s already so wet. Largely due to sexual deprivation and being touch starved. Of that, he’s certain. To be almost thirty and have never been touched as such as a woman seems almost criminal. He wants to give it to her though. Give her that experience. Give her all of the experiences. 

He works his thumb around her swollen clitoris, small circles, her growing wetness all the lube and slip he needs to work her good, in the way she deserves, in only how he can have her.

“Oh my god…” She’s starting to squirm against the bed, and he fucking loves it. Loves seeing how worked up he can get her. It makes the anticipation of actually being inside of her that much better. He plays around with different touches, different techniques, studying closely what seems to evoke the strongest physical reaction. A sort of a game, a way for him to learn her body, to learn what she likes. But also, for her to learn what she likes.

“You okay?” He checks in with her, seeing her nod ‘yes’ almost frantically. If not for the fact he can see speech is a bit difficult right now, he’d press her on actual words. But, he can extend some grace. “So fucking wet….” She’s a wet, soaking mess, pussy soaking his fingers, her thighs, and the bed under her. Not that he gives a flying fuck. Seeing her like this is better than he could have imagined, just a taste of what it’ll be like to be inside of her. 

But, it’s when he teases a finger near her opening, so wet and sticky that he clenches his jaw. Just that slight probing, and he can already tell how tight she is, can imagine that tightness gripping the mess out of his dick.

Roman carefully enters one finger and observes the way she tenses, whimpers, the way her cunt clenches against him. “Relax….” He coaxes her, talks her through it, allows her to adjust to the unfamiliar stretch while his thumb continues to play with her clit, never once stopping her pleasure train. 

And when she’s adjusted, he enters another finger, stopping there, not wanting to push her too far, recognizing how big this is for her. But when she shifts again, almost rocking against his fingers, Roman responds to her, moving in sync, staying along with her song and dance. He works with her, making the hitherto motion while his other fingers continue to rub and caress her into that higher room, that place of ecstasy. 

Roman can see it coming, can see her coming, see the way she starts to grip the sheets, the biting of her bottom lip.

“I’m—I’m—”

“Ride it out, baby. Let me see how pretty you look when you come on my hand.” His words of affirmation seem to take her over the edge, damn near her entire upper half arching off the bed, her body writing as she gives into the bliss, staying on that train to euphoria. 

Roman keeps his fingers inside of her just long enough to feel that fucking amazing sensation of making her come yet again, and he can’t help himself as he brings his soaked fingers to his mouth, tasting and licking off every bit of her. His eyes shut at her taste, just as fucking sweet as he imagined. 

God, he can’t wait to have this woman. 

Coming to, Solana sits up on her elbows a bit, looking down, becoming aware of just how messy things got. And she seems a bit embarrassed, offering what’s surely the start of an unnecessary apology. “I–oh my—I didn’t.”

Roman says nothing, just gets up and moves to the bathroom, grabbing a towel off the rack and bringing it to her. He’d clean her up himself, but he doesn’t necessarily trust himself to not try for take two.

Letting her handle it is the safest route, but he can work to dissuade any thought or feeling she might have that makes her think she did anything wrong.

“I’ll buy a new fucking mattress every damn day if it means I get to make you come like that.” 

Solana has cleaned herself and the bed as best she can as she reaches to slide her underwear back on. Roman has to push away his disappointment. She has such a pretty pussy. 

Her cheeks are red, partially because of what just occurred but also her naturally shy personality. “You’re really good at that.”

“I’m good at a lot of things, Solana.” He has every intention on eventually showing her just what those remaining things are, but time and place. 

He’ll be as patient with her as she needs. 

After Solana is all cleaned up, returned to a semi state of being adequately dressed, they fall into a sense of normalcy where she lays in bed, reading and writing a bit while he finishes up some work tasks on his laptop right beside her before she drifts off into a sleep that lasts longer than he was expecting.

He’s tempted to wake her when they start to descend, partially wanting her to look out the window at the clear, blue waters that he can admit are impressive looking. But, he decides against it, waiting until they’ve landed and are ready to exit the jet.

Gently shaking her shoulder, he stirs her, “Solana, wake up.” She does so relatively easily, pretty brown eyes blinking a little in confusion as he explains. “We made it.”

Those three words help bring her to a full state of consciousness. He smiles a bit seeing how she moves quicker than what’s probably necessary to get out of the bed and slide her shoes on, looking back at him and reaching for his hand.

Roman closes his laptop and does the same, taking her hand, guiding her out the jet. They’re both instantly met with an intense heat and radiating sun shining in their direction. They’re also met with the staff and security he made sure to have lined up and ready to go upon their arrival.  He walks out first, watching and taking her hand again as she follows him, face turned up in expected confusion. 

But, before she can ask anything, one of the men offers what may be a genuine smile. Not that Roman cares about that.

He flicks his gaze between the two of them. “Welcome to Isla Mujeres, Mr. and Mrs. Reigns….”

A loud gasp next to him is unsurprising, Solana almost spinning to look around, trying to process that she’s really standing on Mexican soil.

She eventually turns to him, eyes wide and then softening into something so warm and appreciative. “Roman…”

“It’s the only way I could get you to myself and away from my annoying ass cousins—” Once again, Roman is cut off by Solana throwing her body against his for a hug that results in him easily picking her up, her legs around his waist.. Similar to the embrace at the home library one. Emotional. Grateful. Happy.

She’s laughing a bit, even with tears burning her vision. “Thank you.”

Roman doesn’t correct her this time, just murmurs a ‘you’re welcome’ and kisses her temple. He  lets her back down, hand moving to her ass. “You’re gonna have to translate while we’re here though.”

Solana shakes her head. Such a small thing in exchange for such a major act of kindness. “That’s fine.” She holds onto his arm as the staff move to take their bags from the jet while security directs them to the SUV.

Solana is looking out the window almost the entire ride, captivated by the scenery, the landscape, the beauty of it all while he’s just focused on the beauty sitting right beside him.

She asks the driver something in Spanish, the answer putting an even bigger smile on her face. She turns to him, asking, “how long are we here for?”

“A week,” Roman answers, noticing the way her eyes light up even more. “Still think we shouldn’t have come?”

She rolls her eyes and playfully shoves her body against his, grabbing his arm and laying her head against his shoulder. “I just….I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“You could never inconvenience me. I do what I want. You know this.” His lips linger near her hairline. “And I wanted to do this for you.”

“Well, I’m appreciative. So much. You….you don’t know how much this means to me.” 

He thinks he has an idea. 

The ride from the airport to the house is approximately twenty minutes, and just like the moment Solana stepped foot off the jet, she’s got that same look of marvel painted all over her pretty place at the property.

Roman, meanwhile, is just satisfied the pictures didn’t lie. If anything, they didn’t do it justice. 

She’s almost like a child on Christmas as she asks with excitement, “is this where we’re staying?” Before he can answer, she’s indirectly apologizing. “Roman, you didn’t have to spend so much money on this place. We’re only going to be here a week. We could have just—”

“I’m rich, Solana. I only do ownership.”

Her jaw drops again. “You bought this?” He nods. She scoffs, looking around, trying to process the fact that she’s technically standing on her property. “So….so we could come back?” 

“I don’t know how often I could come with you, but you’re welcome to come and go as you please.” It goes without saying she’d have hefty security detail as well as either Bayley or Naomi attending, but beyond that, Roman could never see himself denying her this. Denying her the opportunity to connect more with her maternal side since the paternal side has only ever caused her nothing but heartache.

Here, there’s a chance to rewrite the chapter. 

She walks over to him, holding onto his forearm, asking almost tentatively. “Can I look around the house?”

“How about we do this instead?” She looks genuinely curious as he explains. “If it’s regarding your safety, you ask. If not, you just do it.” Roman’s unsurprised by her unsure expression. “I don’t get to decide how you live your life. That’s all you.”

“Unless it could present a safety risk?”

“Exactly. Cause in that case, the answer is probably no.” A part of him dislikes having a caveat, but in the world they live in, with him being who he is, he can’t take any risks. He won’t take any risks. Not when it comes to her.

Ever.

Solana nods as if she understands better now. She slides her hand down, taking his with hers as she lightly tugs on his arm. “Come with me.”

It’s an easy request. There’s not much she could ask he’d say no to. If anything. 

Solana is just as amazed by the inside of the house as the outside, especially the kitchen, the first thing she gravitates to. Naturally.

“We have to go shopping,” she shares. “So I can cook.”

“Solana, you’re not cooking while we’re here.” She frowns, a pout almost on her pretty face. “We’re celebrating your birthday. The fuck I look like you making you cook on something that’s supposed to be for you? I hired a chef for us.”

Her frown softens a bit as she lays her hand on his chest. “You’re not making me do anything. I—I like cooking. You know this.”

“I know you do, but I want you to relax and enjoy yourself while we’re here.” His hands move down to her ass. “Starting with the pool in the back.”

A small smile grows on her face. “There’s a pool?”

He nods, imagining that sexy body of hers clad in one of those skimpy two pieces he told Bayley and Naomi to make sure she purchased plenty of. “I told you. Half naked, baby.” She giggles as he squeezes her ass and lightly pushes on his chest, separating them.

“Where’s our bedroom?”

He has to think about it for a minute. “Down the hall. Should be the first or second room on the right.” Again, she grabs his hand, guiding them based upon his directions. Directions that prove correct, Solana once again taken back by the luxury of it all. The room is damn near bigger than some apartments and provides direct access to the back of the house which houses the pool and hot tub.

“This is all so beautiful…..”

“Hmmm.”

Solana briefly turns from looking out the door when two of the guards bring her and Roman’s luggage into the room. She thanks them, while Roman just seems to glare at them to get them to leave immediately, which they do.

Once alone, she turns to Roman, “can we—” He doesn’t even have to correct her. She does it all on her own. “I—I want to go see the beach.”

He smirks. Assertiveness looks damn good on her. “Then let’s go to the beach.”

________

Roman is both surprised and unsurprised when Solana walks out the bathroom, a cover up partially preventing him from seeing whatever bathing suit she picked. And his disappointment must show as she murmurs, “I’ll take it off when we get there.”

Feeling like it’ll help her feel a bit better, less self-conscious, he informs, “it’ll just be us. I had the beach….cleared, if you will.”

Obviously confused, she wonders aloud, “how….how do you clear a beach?” Solana gasps, lowering her voice as she asks in an almost scared tone. “Did you….did you kill anyone?”

“Not today. Not yet, at least.” The way her eyes widen a bit makes him chuckle. “I’m Roman Reigns, Solana.” He walks past her, adding with all of the arrogance that he can without a doubt back up, “I always get what I want.”

Solana says nothing. Not that she needs to say anything. However, she notices then what Roman was messing with on the bed before she walked out the bathroom. “What is this?” She walks over, reaching for but not touching the camera. “You bought a camera?”

“I’ve had that for years.”

Curious, she less asks and more makes a simple statement, sharing, “I didn’t know you were into photography.”

He shrugs, almost indifferent. Dismissive. “It’s an interest. Haven’t really done much of it in a while.”

“You should,” she encourages. Solana would love to see and support him embrace a side of him that isn’t so deeply embedded in his work that seems never ending. “Especially while we’re here. It’s all so beautiful…”

“I could photograph you and get the same result.”

She smiles, looking away while admitting, “I—I don’t really like having my picture taken.”

“Too bad.” She looks back at him, Roman explaining. “That’s also an insecurity thing. I told you. I’m not letting you feed your insecurities.”

A part of her is grateful for that, grateful for him. Appreciative that he always seems to remind her of these things that she still struggles to notice or believe about herself from time to time. Like the fact that she is beautiful.

“Okay,” she relents, partially knowing it’s not like Roman will give in anyway. “But…but you can’t show them to anyone.”

“Solana, I don’t like sharing you with anyone as it is. You really think I’m trying to share some pictures?” It’s a fair, valid point. “No, I won’t show them to anyone.”

Pleased with the acknowledgement, the two finish getting ready and are out the door in less than 20 minutes. Given the fact that the property is more or less on the water, they opt, more Solana, asks to walk versus driving. Roman isn’t opposed. The beach is cleared, security is roaming the property, not to mention it’s a beautiful day.

Plus, he enjoys intentionally lagging a bit behind to enjoy the jiggle of her ass as she walks ahead of him.

Truly a win-win for all.

The minute she steps foot onto the sand, enters onto the actual beach, there’s a bit of a shift. Nothing negative. The complete opposite. Roman can sense her emotion growing, the reality of finally being in her mom’s home country truly settling in. 

He’s partially surprised by just how quickly she moves to the actual water, standing in the space where sand and ocean meet.

“My mom was right….” His gaze falls on her. “It’s so beautiful.” She steps forward a bit more, wind pushing the water closer as it grazes her feet. “I want to go in.” Another slight surprise, but not entirely. A part of the reason he’s been having her get in the pool was for this very moment, to lessen and minimize her fear so she could truly embrace this experience for all it can offer.

He nods but gestures to the camera bag. “Pictures first.”

She scowls a bit, and he chuckles, pulling the camera out. “Roman…”

“Non-negotiable, baby.” And she knows this, knows he’s not letting up when it comes to building her self-esteem and demolishing her body insecurity.

“Okay….” It feels a bit strange at first, posing as Roman snaps photos of her. She’s more than certain the first set of photos look just as awkward as she feels. But as time passes and with his encouragement and slight guidance, the awkwardness melts into something similar to relaxation. Her smile is a natural thing vs the result of being told to smile. 

And even when he tells her to remove the cover up, there’s some level of apprehension about being photographed in her bathing suit, but there’s also a level of confidence and reassurance that it’s literally just the two of them.

Roman has her damn near posing like it’s a real photoshoot, and when all is said and done, she’s tugging on his arm as he puts the camera away. “Come with me.”

Solana is both surprised and thankful when he doesn’t push back on her request, doesn’t deny it. There’s an obvious level of disinterest, but it’s nothing compared to his desire to make her happy. 

And in the beautiful ocean water that brushes past in little ripples and slight waves against her shoulder, holding onto her strong, handsome husband who seems to look at her like she set all the stars in the sky, she feels just that:

Happy

________

Solana is unsure just how long they spend at the beach. Long enough that by the time they return to the house, the chef he hired for them, an older, kind woman named Maria, has dinner just about ready to serve. And it’s exactly when they finish showering and cleaning up, the plate of delicious food is laid on the table, ready to devour.

It’s a bit of a different yet pleasant experience being able to have dinner with her husband. More often than not, he has to take it in his office due to his volume of work. So having him across from her, being able to talk with him while they indulge in Pozole is a kind of happiness she could get used to. 

But, it’s later that evening when they lay in the bed, Solana’s body sprawled on top of his much bigger one, Roman’s hand under her pajama shirt rubbing her skin, that something comes over her. A desire to unload something that’s been oscillating in the back of her head, no matter how many times she tries to push it away.

“I feel bad.” 

He doesn’t look down, just asks her calmly, “about?”

Solana licks her lips. “I didn’t mean to hurt him that badly.”

Roman had a feeling that’s what she was referring to, but he didn’t want it to be true. “Solana—”

“I know. I know I defended myself, but….” She tries to word it as best she can, though she also knows there’s little to no way Roman will abandon his ardent belief that Wes got exactly what he deserved. “I keep thinking about my mom and how….she always reminded me that at the end of the day, Wes is my brother, and a lot of his behavior was because of my dad.”

Roman does his best to keep his voice leveled, to keep out the unsettled anger he holds and will always hold against her piece of shit sibling. He doesn’t want her to think any level of that anger is directed toward her. “You were kids then, Solana. Sure, Xavier probably said and influenced a lot of things, but your brother isn’t a child anymore. He’s a grown man. There’s no excuse for the things he’s said and done to you.”

None whatso–fucking—ever.

And Solana knows that, hence her expressing agreement. “I know you’re right.” Her voice drops a bit, paving way for more vulnerability. “I just….I was so angry that night, and…and I’m not an angry person. I—I don’t like that.” Before he can continue his work to take away her unrequited feelings, she asks almost over a whisper, “what does it feel like to kill someone?”

Her question takes him back a bit, but he knows why she’s asking, where it’s coming from.

“Solana—”

She sits up, looking down at him, eyes watering. “If he dies….”

He brings his hand to her cheek, comforting her, “he won’t. That bastard isn’t allowed to die. Not unless it’s by my hand.”

Roman has ensured Wes has the best medical care money can provide solely for the fact that while his beating was well-deserved, it’s paltry compared to all of the ways Roman wants to make that bastard suffer before he encounters the fiery gates of hell. 

Xavier as well.

She shakes her head, sniffling, “I don’t—I can’t live with knowing I took someone’s life. I—” Her voice cracks. “I just can’t.”

“You won’t,” he vows. Anyone who would ever need to cease to exist because they’ve wronged her in some way, he would handle. He will handle. Because he agrees. Solana is a pure soul. Despite all of the evil surrounding and done to her, she’s retained her kind heart and gentle spirit. Killing someone, taking another life, destroys that, forever pollutes the soul in a way that’s irreversible. 

Roman would die before he let that happen to her.

But the topic of this conversation, it brings something else up for Solana. Something that literally shatters her spirit to think about, let alone verbalize aloud. But, she has to tell him, can’t keep it to herself any longer. It’s not fair to him with how good he’s been to her. 

She loves him too much to continue to lie to him.

“Roman…” Her throat suddenly feels so dry, stomach weighed down by a slate of concrete. “There’s something I—”

“Shhhh.” He sits up, bringing his other hand to her cheek, fully cupping her face. “Tomorrow is your birthday, Solana. You don’t need to be this upset.” He again brushes away her tears, gently adding, “I don’t like seeing you upset.”

Her eyes shut. He has no idea the increased emotion is for an entirely different reason. “But—”

Roman seems keen on not allowing the conversation to continue, solely because he dislikes how troubled she’s getting. Sees it as unfair. “It’s gonna be fine.” He then asks, “you trust me, don’t you?” She nods softly. That’s given at this point. There’s no one she trusts more than Roman Reigns. “Then trust I’ve got this.”

Her eyes shut, as she tries to listen and marinate on his words. Her husband is adept at remaining calm and being prepared for any and everything. She…she has to trust that for right now. Trust him. 

Has to table this conversation. For now.

Roman guides her to lay back down on his chest, Solana snuggling against him. “I’ve got you, Sol.” Her heart nearly bursts at that, at the nickname she hasn’t been called in years. The name her mother often referred to her as. Her eyes shut, stomach settling, emotions subsiding in the way only Roman seems capable of orchestrating. “Always.”

________

The first thing Solana notices when she wakes up the next morning is the noticeable empty space besides her. The space where Roman should be sleeping, his muscular arm around her body, holding her against him. 

Instead, she awakes on her back, alone, with no Roman in sight.

She frowns for a few seconds, sitting up in the bed and rubbing her eyes. The sadness shifts away just as soon as it appeared. Solana knows he must either be in the gym or doing something for work. There’s very little concern that he’s ventured far.

It’s why she grabs her phone off the nightstand only to find a plethora of birthday texts and an attached photo of Dulce in the group chat with her, Naomi, Bayley, Jimmy, and Jey.

Bayley: Happy birthday, friend! Roman’s ass better be treating you like the queen you are! 💙 Love you so much and can’t wait until you get back so we can fuck up some more trucks together! 😜

Naomi: What Bayley said! Happy freaking birthday, Solana! Even if you wanted to, you ain’t getting rid of us. Sisters for life! 💚

Jey: Happy birthday, lil sis! Make sure you take lots of pics of Free Willy over there!

Jimmy: Man, you dumb asf. They supposed to look at dolphins! Not sharks! Free Willy was a shark!

Jimmy: Happy birthday, sis!

Naomi: Solana, you can feel absolutely feel free to mute this chat until you return. 😐

Bayley: Or forever.

There’s a myriad of emotions coursing through her. So much happiness. Bayley. Naomi. Jimmy. Jey. A family. They’ve become her family. 

It brings tears to her eyes and keeps her in bed a couple minutes longer as she basks in the kind words and love.

It also keys her into just what Roman has planned for her big day. That brings on an additional layer of emotionality. He’s so so good to her.

Solana: Thank you, guys. You all have no idea what you mean to me. 🥺♥️

Placing her phone on the nightstand, she finally climbs out of bed and into the bathroom to pee, brush her teeth, and wash her face. She decides against placing the robe over her pajamas. An unnecessary thing considering Roman’s seen just about all of her at this point.

It'll make telling or asking him the realization she’s come to just a tad bit easier.

Out the bathroom and down the steps, sure enough, she finds him, burly body plopped down on one of the chairs in the kitchen, Maria working away to prepare what’s probably a more than necessary, grand breakfast.

Roman’s hearing and peripheral vision is expert level, because she’s barely in the kitchen when he lifts his gaze from the open laptop in front of him and sets his sights on her. One finger beckons her in his direction. An unnecessary thing considering that’s exactly where she was already headed.

Solana is easily guided onto his lap, Roman taking index finger under her chin for a kiss that’s so soft compared to his typically rough demeanor. She smiles. “Good morning….”

He chuckles. “Morning.” His hand moves to her cheek, “happy birthday.”

Heart filled, she lays her head against his shoulder, intentionally not looking at the computer in the event it’s private but still asks. “What are you doing?”

He instead motions for her to do just that. “Look.”

She does, and instantly she’s burying her face back into him. “Roman, I hate looking at pictures of myself.” Because that’s what’s on his screen, one of the photos he took of them at the beach yesterday. 

“Too bad, cause that might be one of my new favorite things.” She smiles yet again, a given whenever she’s around him. Solana also finds herself forcing her attention back to the screen, reaching to click through the photos, most of her, which is uncomfortable but still bearable. However, her attention is mostly drawn to the ones not of her, of the beach and nature and scenery that he took. 

“These are so good.” She finds herself complimenting him, because it’s true. Added to the long list of things Roman is exceptionally good at is photography. She teases him a little. “You should photograph more.”

He scoffs, an almost bitter tone to his voice. Not directed at her, of course. “When?”

She shrugs. “I—I don’t know, but we can figure it out. If…if you like to do it, then you should do it.” And just like that, she’s determined to help him figure out just that. It’s the least she can do for him.

Truly.

Noticing Maria multitasking, Solana calls out and asks, “Maria, do you need any help?”

The older woman gasps dramatically and waves away the offer as if it was an insult. “Nonsense, child. It is your birthday. You must rest and let that handsome husband of yours treat you.”

Solana laughs a bit. 

Roman asks, “what did she say?”

“I asked her if she needs any help, and she basically told me I don’t get to do any of that cause it’s my birthday.”

“Damn straight,’ Solana giggles as he moves his hand to her hip. “We’ll leave after breakfast.”

Being honest, she dances her fingers up his arm, teasing almost, “I know where we’re going….” 

Roman gives her one of those infamous smirks which quickly drops when he realizes something. “Which one was it? Dumb or Dumber?”

Giggling, she hands him her phone, opening the group chat and showing him the messages.

His eyes rake over the words, and Solana has to bite back her laugh at the absolute irritated expression painted on his handsome face when he’s done. “Even hundred fucking miles away, they ruin shit.”

She kisses his cheek, wanting to calm him down. “It’s okay.” Solana suddenly asks. “Are you gonna do it with me?”

He gives her a look. “That’s for you, Sol. Not me.”

She pouts a little, gently reminding him, “but…it can be for the both of us.”

“Swimming with Dolphins screams you. Not me.” He adds on with an almost scowl and shake of his head. “I’m too old for that shit.” Curious, he switches the topic a bit, asking, “does our age difference bother you?”

“I never really thought of it,” she answers, honestly. Roman being older than her truly has never been anything she’s considered to be an issue. At the beginning of this whole arrangement, she had a slate of other much more relevant reasons to be cautious and wary. All of those reasons almost making her laugh a bit because they’re so far away from the truth. “So, no.” She shrugs, adding. “I—I never really had good luck with guys my age anyway.” Or, at all, really. “Besides….” She chews on her bottom lip, coyly starting off a leading sentence, “there’s nothing about you that bothers me….except—”

Roman is every bit as eager as he looks for the rest. “Except?”

She bats her eyelashes, almost intentionally trying to butter him up. “If you could be a little nicer to your cousins….”

“Baby, how many times do we have to have this conversation?” He once again reiterates what, in his mind, should be painfully obvious. “I’m not a nice person.”

“But you are,” she stresses, fingers moving through his beard. “You are to me.”

“It’s different with you, Solana.” He’s not necessarily in the space to explain just how it’s different, but it is. She’s in a category all on her own. “Look….do my cousins piss me off at least 8 times a day? Yes. Do I have thoughts of homicide regarding them at least once a day? Sure. But….” He blows out a breath. “We’ve been friends since we were little kids. They’re family. I would die for them just as quickly as I know they would die for me.”

While she understands his point and is grateful for his level of openness and vulnerability, Roman and death in the same sentence brings out an almost physical reaction on her part.

That’s not even something she can tolerate thinking about.

She would lose her fucking mind if something were to ever happen to him. 

Solana is desperate to change the subject, needing something, literally anything, other than Roman dying to think about. “I….I know what I want you to give me for my birthday.”

His brow lifts as he asks with a bit of attitude. “You planning on telling me, considering it’s here?”

She smiles softly, finger trailing down his face. “Later….” Solana climbs off his lap, rubbing her stomach. “Right now, I just want to eat breakfast with my husband.”

________

It’s called Dolphin Discovery. The activity Roman has planned for the morning of her birthday, and it consists of exactly what the title implies as well as what Jimmy and Jey unintentionally spoiled for her.

Not that that’s a big deal, per se.

It doesn’t dim her excitement. The way her smile is painted on her face at the private event Roman arranged for just them, the only other people are the staff and instructors who guide the event. 

Solana is even able to convince Roman to join her for a short period of time in the water, granted he looks irritated and uninterested the entire time. Still, she knows his focus and priority is just making sure she has a nice time.

And she does. 

It’s full of smiles and laughter. 

Just as the rest of the day as Solana asks to go to the beach after, fully enamored with the crystal clear water and beauty that is the island of las mujeres. Of course, this comes with the almost stipulation from Roman that he has to photograph her again.

She’s less uncomfortable this time around, posing for his photos without as much reservation. The decreased inhibitions largely due to her overall happiness. Solana hasn’t felt so great, so in love with life for a very long time.

If ever. 

But, she’s even more touched when Roman guides them back to the beach later that evening what’s a private dinner for just the two of them.

“Roman….” She can’t help to take in the beautiful set up as he pulls out the seat for her. “This is so beautiful….”

He takes her in as he sits opposite of her, the way her dress hugs her so beautifully, the soft set of her eyes as she continues to marvel, smiling so genuinely at the setup. “Very…”

She brings her attention back onto him, reminding, “Roman, you really….you really didn’t have to do all of this. I would have been just as happy back home with you.”

“That’s too boring.” He dismisses, reaching across the table for her hand. “Too close to people. I wanted you to myself.”

She smiles, teasing him a bit. “Is that why it’s just been mostly you and me so far?”

“Damn straight.” 

She giggles, head tilted as she turns his hand over, tracing the lines of his palm. “Me haces muy feliz….”

His eyes squint with intrigue. “You’re really going to make me learn Spanish, aren’t you?”

“No,” she answers softly, focused on her gesture with his hand. “I’m…I’m not saying anything you don’t already know.”

“Which is?” 

Her eyes lift to his, locking intensely. “How much I care about you.” 

How much I love you.

That part…..that he doesn’t know. Or maybe he does. Solana knows she wears her heart on her sleeve to a certain extent. Knows how perceptive her husband is. But, if he has noticed, he hasn’t said anything. And she’s partially grateful for that, because acknowledging her love for him, internally anyway, is something that she’s okay with. Something she doesn’t really question.

She can’t say the same for him.

Love and Roman have a complicated history she can’t even begin to truly understand. It may not be something he feels capable of anymore, not after the kind of loss he experienced. And she can understand that. She’s okay with that. Because the way he treats her, the way he makes her feel, the happiness he brings her….it’s more than enough.

It’s all she needs.

The dinner itself is just as wonderful as any other meal they’ve had the past two days, but what Solana mostly enjoys is the conversation. Being able to talk to and with Roman has easily become one of her favorite things. Their conversation never goes stale, and even when she worries she’s annoying him, he keeps it going.

He truly is becoming one of her best friends. Not in the same way Naomi and Bayley have. Something different, something deeper almost. Still as appreciated. 

And it’s when the dinner comes to a close, Solana is once again taken back by Roman’s nearly limitless generosity when he gifts her a set of bracelets, Louis Vuitton, Cartier, and other luxury brands she’s certain the combination of cost equalling what some people pay for homes let alone jewelry. 

The depth of his kindness toward her will never cease to amaze her.

Back at the house, she has a bit of a hard time getting him to use the shower in the master bedroom vs using the one down the hall. She comes up with a weak excuse regarding shower design preference, and while she’s certain he doesn’t believe her one bit, he lets it go.

And Solana is utterly grateful, because she needs to be completely separated in order to prepare for the thing she’s wanted and thought about since last night, since she decided it’s truly what she wants.

Everything he’s done thus far has been more than thoughtful, but this….this is something on an entirely different level. 

She’s just stepped out the shower and wrapped the towel around her body when a random thought about what tonight could and most likely will entail flashes in her mind. 

Solana closes her eyes and tries to ignore the aching between her legs, even if she knows it’s a fruitless effort. 

Roman has been an absolute saint, patient beyond belief with her and this gradual process of working up to being intimate. Always checking in with her every step of the way.

But…..but lately, she finds herself….thinking about him in….different ways. Wondering what it would be like to finally go all the way. To be with him fully in that way.

Ways she previously couldn’t allow herself to think about. Too hindered by the memories of her trauma. 

Yet with him, it’s something unlike what she’s used to. Her chest doesn’t feel like it’s about to explode, and she doesn’t find herself panicking, needing to push him away from her, to not have any hands on her because they all feel the same, the same as her rapists.

With Roman…..that’s not her story. It’s just him she sees, feels, wants.

By the time she’s done with her shower, Solana has to reach across the bathroom counter to wipe her hand across the fogged mirror. She hits the switch for the vent and digs through her toiletries bag for the essentials and gets into her routine, focusing way too much on what she’s doing to avoid the thought sitting impatiently in the back of her head.

But, it’s when she’s reached the end of her routine and goes to grab her bra and panties she had sitting on the counter, that she pauses.

Scared.

Solana realizes that’s one of the dominant emotions she’s struggling with. She’s scared to go for what she wants. It’s a tale as old as time. Fear is always the thing that holds us back the most, that keeps us from reaching goals, attaining desires, being freed.

For so long, she believed that she was damaged. That the trauma of her past made it impossible for her to ever have a healthy sexual relationship with another person. But Roman has changed that. He’s changed her life in so many ways, and now, she is presented with the chance and opportunity to take back her power, to reclaim her sexuality.  

And now….she’s ready to do just that. 

Solana slowly retracts her hand and instead slides her pink, silk gown over her head, ignoring the almost strange feeling of having nothing underneath her dress. Solana keeps staring at her reflection, mentally going over everything: floss, mouthwash, deodorant, lotion, perfume on all of her pulse points. 

When she realizes that she’s only stalling, she forces herself to leave the bathroom. Solana makes her way down the hall and into the master. She’s relieved to see he’s still in the bathroom and decides to sit and wait on the edge of the bed. Similar to how her nerves are on edge. In the bathroom, the pep talk was more motivating and inspiring. Now, in this space, her anxiety is doing those damn flips again. 

“Solana?” Her head lifts and she stands up. Roman is standing near the bathroom door, shirtless, gray sweats hanging dangerously low, his hair down. Solana watches his gaze darken, slowly taking in her immodest state, focusing on the clear outline of her nipples pressing against the thin material. “What are you—”

She says nothing and instead grabs his hand, leading him to the bed. She switches their positions and guides him to sit on the end of the bed as she straddles him, her legs on either side of him. Solana refuses to think about the possible exposure from this position and instead focuses on him.

“I want you,” is all she says, quiet but sure. “I want you for my birthday.”

His face reads a mixture of emotions, primarily confusion. 

And lust.

“Solana….” He seems to want to move his hands to her waist but hesitates. “I didn’t….that’s not why I brought you here. I would never pressure you—”

“I know,” she interrupts, softly. “You’ve always let me set the pace, so….so let me set it now.” She brings her hands to his face, looking him dead in the eye as she repeats, “What I want for my birthday….is you.” A fleeting thought creeps across her mind when she adds, “unless….unless you don’t want me th—”

Roman switches their positions so quickly that she can barely process what’s happening until she’s flat on her back with him hovering above her. His eyes are fluttering as he works to settle himself, breathing out, “I’ve always wanted you, baby. Just needed you to tell me when.”

She licks her lips and lightly glides her fingers over his abs. He’s so firm. “And now?”

“Now?” Roman moves his hand to her knees, slowly prying them apart. She breathes in as he starts to move his fingers up the inside of her legs. “After tonight, ain’t nobody else gon’ have you like this,” his thumb brushes over her inner thigh and she grabs his bicep. “Feel you like this,” Solana’s head goes back into the bed when he glosses his fingers over her apex. “Or taste you like this but me.” Their gazes lock. “Understood? You’re mine.”

His tone is commanding and authoritative. She can mumble a quiet ‘yes’ in agreement when his head drops between the crook of her neck, his hair fanning her face, pulling his hand from between her legs. “Promise me you’ll tell me if we need to stop.” 

She gently caresses the back of his neck, reassuring him. “Roman, I’m fin—”

“Solana,” he interrupts. There’s no denying or questioning of the seriousness in his tone of voice. “Promise me.”

She nods and rakes her fingers over his scalp. “I promise.”

Roman is visibly pleased by this, eyes raking over her body. “Good.” He lowers his lips to hers, hands moving to explore her body. “So fucking pretty….”

The light kiss easily progresses into something more intense, something deeper, something that has her feeling so flustered and warm all over. His pants are quickly discarded, leaving him in boxers only. Roman continues to massage and knead her breast, along with the palming of her ass yet still makes active efforts to receive consent, always checking her comfort levels.

Initiating this is major.

Her lips are nice and swollen when he starts kissing around her face before grabbing her hand and turning it over. Two long fingers press against her wrist. 

He doesn’t say anything for a good minute, prompting her to ask, “what are you—”

“Do you trust me?” 

There’s not a second of hesitation or delay. “Of course.” 

“I need to relax you more.” With his free hand, his thumb flicks over her nipple as he explains, just as tender as every other thing he’s done to maintain her comfort. “You’re still tensing a bit under me, and the more tense you are, the more it’s going to hurt, and I don’t want to hurt you…”

Swallowing, she replies back in the same soft tone. “You could never hurt me, Roman.” His eyes flash with something almost soft. Like affection. Like something deeper. “But…I understand. What…what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t want you to do anything. Tonight is about you.” Her eyes flutter shut as he brings his mouth back to her neck, speaking against her soft skin. “Just want you to let me take care of you…” And it’s as he continues to travel down her body, tugging at her dress as much as he can to press a trail of kisses between the valley of her breast, and halting near her covered belly button that she understands what he’s asking her.

And suddenly her cheeks are on fire. Solana isn’t entirely naive. She knows that plenty of people engage in oral sex, but she’s also heard a lot of men prefer not to. Prefer to receive rather than give. “I…..you….you don’t have to—”

“Solana, I’ve wanted to taste you since the first day I met you.” His words, dark and dripping with need make her bite down on her bottom lip as his finger trails along her inner thigh. “Will you let me?”

She’s insecure and a shade of unsure for reasons entirely unrelated to her trauma. Maybe there’s some influence there, but it’s primarily the intimacy of it all. But, she then realizes he’s eventually going to be inside of her before the night ends, so his mouth being on her most intimate area….isn’t really a major difference.

Swallowing, she answers, voice catching for a second with a need she didn’t recognize until this moment. “Y–yes.”

His eyes light with desire, but he doesn’t miss a beat in reminding her yet again that she’s fully in control tonight. “Tell me to stop and we stop. I don’t care what’s happening. All I care about is you. Alright?” 

Solana nods. “O–okay.”

Roman kisses her stomach and wastes no time in helping her remove her dress, leaving her fully exposed to him, physically and emotionally. Slowly, he pries her thighs apart, seeing how she bites on her bottom lip when he teases a finger against her. 

“Still so sensitive…..” There’s a level of intrigue there, Solana watching Roman push his hair back, his tongue exiting his mouth and wetting his lips. “You’ll get used to me.”

She’s not sure she could ever get used to a man like Roman, and the minute his tongue flattens against her there, she’s almost certain she’ll never get used to that.

“Oh my god.”

He looks up at her, Solana suppressing a moan at the sight of his big body between the space of her thighs, mouth curved into a wry smile. “I barely touched you, baby….”

That doesn’t stop the fire coursing through her body.

“You want me to stop?” A frantic shaking of her head to signify a hell no is all he needs. He’ll settle for no verbal acknowledgement this time. “Good.” Salona gasps as he hooks the back of her knees over his big shoulders. “Now lay back and let me take care of you...”

It seems like all Roman has done is take care of her, but this is a new level of care, one that has her scratching and gripping helplessly at the sheets as he licks at her one, two, three times before his tongue darts around and plays with her in a way that makes her stomach tangled and twisted.

Solana whimpers when he starts sucking on her clit. “Fuck being inside you, just let me stay with this sweet pussy in my mouth.”

For a second, she considers it, because the way he laps and sucks on her has her brain practically fried trying to comprehend how just his tongue alone can have her nearly worming off the bed.

His big, strong hands grip her thighs, holding her in place as he never once lifts his head for air.

“Roman…..”

“You taste better than I imagined.” She swears she feels him kiss her slick folds. “Gonna have you sit on my face the next time….”

The terror at that thought is short lived and stomped upon by his hands traveling up her body, gripping her breast, squeezing just enough to make her moan yet again, head pressed back into the pillow. 

His name slips out her mouth for what feels like the 20th time as she moves her hands on top of his, stomach arching, pussy pressing further against his mouth. He makes a sound down there, but sound isn’t the focus when all of her most sensitive nerve endings are being so beautifully catered to.

But then it becomes too much, Roman switching to a lethal combination that includes sucking on her clit while two fingers enter inside her. It has her nearly jumping off the bed, unintentionally inching away from him.

Roman hums against her lifting up only to warn, “stop running from me, baby.” He’s playing with the mess she’s made, essence practically dripping from his beard. “This pussy is too good to not indulge myself.”

And before she can protest, can try to find some words to string together, he’s back in between her legs, and Solana finds her hands moving to the top of his hand. She can’t tell if she wants to just shove him away or shove him closer. 

A strange yet wonderful dichotomy. 

There’s no telling how long he’s down there, feasting so eagerly on her like he’s been waiting on this. Like, he’s been yearning for this. The same way Solana is starting to realize she too unintentionally wanted this. Wanted to know what it could and does feel like to be intimate, to have those normal, sexual needs met. It was just all hidden and obscured behind a dense wall of trauma the same man bringing her to heaven has helped her dismantle. 

She owes him so much.

Especially for the way he gives her an orgasm that has her wanting to scream his name loud enough for anyone within 100 miles to hear. That just might have been the case too if she didn’t press her lips together as she rode out her orgasm, Roman still remaining between her thighs as he helps her through it, letting her ride out her pleasure still against his greedy mouth.

He seems so hungry for her. 

When he finally makes his way up, presses his lips against her, Solana moans at the taste of herself on his mouth. He smirks against her lips.

“I told you I’m good at a lot of things..”

She smiles, her eyes blinking. “Roman, I—I’m ready.”

He doesn’t look surprised, but he does look hesitant. “Solana….”

“This is what I want. I—I want to be with you….fully.” Even as the words leave her mouth, the aftershock of her orgasm still trying to subside, she’s nervous. She’s nervous because there will always be that small voice in the back of her head telling her she shouldn't, that she can’t, that sex has been forever ruined for her. 

But, it’s almost as if just looking at Roman, at feeling his desire and care for her, it snuffs those voices out, locks them in a closet with a key that he’ll make sure is never found. “I—I want you inside me.”

And there’s something either about that or the way she words it that seems to trigger the okay switch for him. He gently traces the outline of her lips. “We’ll take it slow.” 

She nods as he brings his fingers to her wrist again. Her pulse. She realizes he’s checking for her pulse, trying to gauge her heart rate, assessing for any spiked anxiety. 

“You’re relaxed, but…it still might hurt at first.”

“I know,” she murmurs, heat rising to her cheeks as she explains so simply yet accurately. “It’s…it’s because you’re big.”

Roman smiles, and that alone chips away a chunk of her anxiety. His smile is so beautiful.

It’s not missed upon her, however, that he doesn’t deny it. Not that he can. She’s heard enough, felt enough, even seen enough to some extent to know that he is very much an overall big man. And yet there’s not a damn thing about him that she finds intimidating, that she’s scared of.

His strength doesn’t scare her. Not anymore.

Just makes her feel safe. 

Solana feels him shift atop her, but she doesn’t remove her gaze from the vaulted ceiling above them. He’s most likely removing his boxers, the only piece of clothing separating that part of him from that part of her. 

She tries to lower her eyes down between their heated bodies, partially wanting to see him for herself, to see what’s about to enter her when Roman brings his hand under her chin, forcing her gaze back onto him. “It’s just you and me….okay?”

Her eyes flutter closed for a second as she nods, opening and breathing back, “you and me…”

Roman lowers his mouth back onto hers, taking her for a slow sensual kiss that’s timed perfectly with the exact moment the thick tip of his dick gradually descends into her tight, wet opening. Solana gasps into his mouth, taken back by the stretch of him, a slight burning sensation that’s eased by the way he kisses her jawline, asking if she wants him to stop.

The answer is easy. 

“N–no. I’m fine.” She murmurs, grabbing him by his face and kissing him again, utilizing the talent of his mouth on hers to blur away the borderline discomfort of his initial entry. Roman is certainly well endowed and an initial level of pain is to be expected, both from his size and her experience. But, she needs his kisses to keep her from gravitating to that other painful experience, to keep her from getting triggered.

And something tells her that he knows as much without her needing to say anything. He’s consistent and dedicated in keeping his mouth on hers, his tongue raking across her bottom lip before he enters in yet another part of her. She does her best to keep up with him, to match his passion, but deep pants often break their rhythm as he continues to sink into her. He feels so deep, and he’s not even all the way in.

And when she’s moaning and groaning at the newfound stretch of him, his voice is in her ear apologizing, asking again if she wants him to stop. The answer is the same as before. Just worded differently.

“I want all of you.” 

The good. The bad. It doesn’t matter. She just wants him.

Roman is the one to groan this time, resting his forehead against hers, “fuck, you’re so tight.”

Once finally and fully seated in her, Solana is grateful that he gives her a second to breathe, to adjust to this new sensation. Still uncomfortable, the fullness in such a sensitive area, but also comforted by Roman, by his constant attempts to assess her comfort levels. It’s why after a few minutes she glides her hands up his arms and encourages him to continue. “M–move.”

He’s studying her, like he’s done at every point throughout this process. “Are you sure?”

She nods and quickly remembers his one rule. “Yes.”

Though her eyes are closed, Solana can feel Roman’s gaze burning into her as he shifts his hips, the thickness of him slowly sliding out of her, lessening that fullness only to slowly re-enter, bringing it right back. He keeps this pace, slow and gradual, working her as gently as he can, never not watching for any sign of distress. 

And it’s at some point that burning sensation washes away into something unfamiliar but desirable. It morphs into a form of pleasure that has her head slipping back against the pillow, her stomach starting to cave under his expert thrusts. His name falls out her mouth in the form of a breathy moan. “Roman….”

“Does that feel good?” She cries out as he kisses her shoulder, hand kneading her breast. “Tell me what feels good.”

The answer is easy, “everything.” And she means it, there’s not a trace of pain she can identify as she moves her hands up his muscular back as he switches up his pace, quicker but deeper thrusts that have her nails digging into his taut skin. “Oh….”

His head drops down in the crook of his neck. “God, you feel fucking amazing.” His hands drop to her hips, pulling her up to meet him thrust for thrust. “Could stay inside of you like this for hours….”

Solana chews down on her bottom lip, back arching as he adjusts his hips, reaching her even deeper, hitting another sensitive spot that has her eyes watering. “Roman.”

“That’s it. Say my name, baby.” And she does, again and again, his name a song on her lips that’s sweet music he wants to keep on repeat for the rest of his life. “You don’t know what you do to me, Solana.”

Whatever it is can’t be as good as he’s making her feel. Solana could scream from the absolute rapture he’s bringing her body, elevating her to places unseen and almost too good to be real. 

“Te quiero mucho.”

He has no idea what she just said, but he has no doubt it’s an expression of bliss, and it only encourages him to dive deeper, to rut into her a little harder. Her pleasure is the roof, but that’s a limitation. He doesn’t do limitations.

He wants to never stop hearing his name leave her mouth, breathy and wanton. She’s a mess underneath him, wet ass pussy gushy, gripping the shit out of him like he’s never experienced. It actually takes a bit of effort on his his part to not come before she does, a arduous task considering she’s never looked more fucking beautiful being underneath him like this, every little facial expression making his dick pulse inside of her.

Roman has always heard people say sex is even better when it’s someone you actually care about. He never believed that shit. He never believed that shit until now. Because he’s never felt something, never felt someone, as good as what Solana feels right now.

If not for her trauma, wouldn’t nobody be getting any sleep tonight. He’d stay in this pussy, have it in his mouth, have it in any and all ways until the wee hours of the morning. Sleep be damned.

But, this isn’t about him. It’s about her. It’s all about her, and he’ll do whatever she wants, whatever she needs. Even if selfishly, he’s working to prolong her climax just as much for his pleasure as hers.

He doesn’t ever want to pull out.

And maybe it’s also the fact that he’s never been with anyone else raw. Never had that skin to skin experience, feeling slick pussy directly against his hardened dick.

Possibly.

Regardless, after tonight, if it’s not Solana, he doesn’t want it.

Her pussy is premier and just for him.

But, it’s when he takes a brief pause, to switch their positions, situating her on top of him, he sees the nervousness wreck her beautiful face.

“Roman. I—I don’t—I don’t know how–” And it’s as she protests, as she tries to explain to him she doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to please him like that, Roman brings his hands to her hips, tugging her forward just enough for her mouth to drop open from the friction, from the way he presses into her, hitting yet another spot that has her eyes nearly watering all over again. “Oh my….”

His eyes are blazed with desire and yearning as he encourages her. “That’s it…..” Her eyes shut, the sound of him asking, “are you okay?” an almost distant thing, an almost inconceivable question. Everything about everything he’s done to and for her has felt more than okay. It’s felt heavenly. 

The same way her hands naturally plant against his chest, less of him directing her movements and more of her riding him from her own volition.

The tips given to her by Bayley and Naomi just weeks prior return to the forefront of her mind, and Solana finds herself moving her hips, grinding on top of him as if she was spelling her name. 

And almost instantly, Roman’s eyes are shutting too as he sings all of her praises, “fuck, just like that baby.”

She moves against him, riding him with a growing intensity that’s only matched by the level of desire on both of their ends. It feels fucking ethereal.

And when he can sense the pending fatigue in her body, Roman sits up, hands moving down her smooth back to her hips and guides her body against him, hitting her spot even deeper, Solana’s cries of pleasure a continuing symphony of bliss.

“You feel me, baby? Feel me in you like this?” Her head drops against his shoulder as she holds onto him, their bare, slick chests pressed against each other.

She whimpers against him, “god, yes.”

“I told you I would make you feel good, didn’t I, sweetheart?” She nods frantically only to cry out yet again when he glides his hand down and peppers his thumb over her swollen clit. “Gonna take care of you every single time. I don’t care how or where. You want it, imma give it to you.”

His voice takes on a darker tone, reminiscent of his reputation, a testament of the depth of his feelings for her. “I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you from me.” She gasps against him, yet another wave of pleasure shooting through her core. “Burn this whole fuckin’ world down….”

There’s something about his words, about his dedication to her, to keeping her safe. To keeping her with him. She lifts her head and brings her hands to his cheeks, making him lock gazes with her. “No one could ever take me from you.”

Roman just looks at her. 

Something happens. A shift. A move. A disturbance of some sort. It’s as if something snaps in half the minute his eyes lock onto hers. He doesn’t move, and neither does she. No one says anything. It almost feels like no one is breathing. Her gaze on him is just as his is on hers. Deep. There’s something happening at the soul level. A tying of some sort. A connection. 

A bond. 

Unbreakable. Unshakable.

Eternal. 

And it’s with an almost unheard non-existent level of vulnerability that Roman practically whispers against the slick skin of her shoulder, pressing a soft kiss. “I need you, Solana.” 

Her eyes water. The connection. The emotion. The love of it all. She doesn't know if he’s feeling the last one, but she certainly is, and it’s the best feeling in the world. “You’ll always have me.” She moans, whimpering as he starts moving her again, nudges that spot yet again. “Te amo con toda mi alma, Roman."

This man now has her: mind, body, and soul.

Her better half.

Her missing piece 

It aids in the build up, her fingers squeezing against his muscular shoulders. “I’m—I’m gonna—“

“I know,” his voice is strained, his body tensing up underneath her. Solana knows he’s not far behind. He quickly switches their positions, wanting her underneath him, spreading her thighs further to maximize the full pleasure of this final ride. 

Hand to his chin, she forces his gaze on her, reminding him with a hint of vulnerability. “You and me.” Her release is almost immediate, a fountain of tightness and pressure that’s both wonderful and all encompassing, forcing her to lay her head against his shoulder, holding onto him as she rides out her climax.

And it’s not even minutes later that his release finds him just as strong, just as heavy, just as fucking shattering.

Roman lets go, big body jerking above her as he releases inside of her, the mixture of their togetherness creating an absolute mess that coats almost all of their lower halves. But, she doesn’t care, just continues to hold onto him as he empties until there’s nothing left. 

Solana groans quietly as he pulls out of her, the absence of him creating a strange, unfamiliar void that’s moderately eased as he plops down on his back next to her, immediately pulling her onto his chest.

This settles her almost instantaneously. 

He kisses the top of her head, gently rubbing her back. “Did I—did I hurt you?”

She smiles against him. The answer to that question has and will always be the same. “No. Never.” Tears burning her eyes, she murmurs into his skin. “You set me free.”

Because, he did. Because after tonight, there’s no turning back. There’s no block or wall of trauma that can stop her from experiencing this. From truly being able to say that while her assault fractured her, it damn sure didn’t break her. 

Roman’s deep voice above her offers a low, gentle rebuttal. “You did that, Sol.” And as if emotions weren’t high enough as it is, he has to send her nearly overboard with his next simple but powerful statement. “you said yes.”

Eyes closing, she has to sit on it, has to rest in it, has to feel it. With all the emotion, she reaffirms it, reclaims her voice, her autonomy, yet another piece of her life. “I said yes…..”

----------

translations:

“Te quiero mucho.” = "I love you so much."

"Lo’u Au" = Someone who is your absolute favorite

"Me haces muy feliz" = "You make me very happy."

"Te amo con toda mi alma, Roman" = "I love you with all my soul, Roman."

"Yo siento muy bien contigo" = "I feel happy with you."

[chukys-mouthguard]

why not both

5.4K words

genre: smut

warnings: minors DNI, 18+ content; threesome, dirty talk

featuring: jamie drysdale x female reader x cam york

summary: when two men are fighting over who gets to sleep with you, why not choose both?

note: the reader and Cam often call Jamie “jim” or “jimmy” in this as a nickname. Also, this is my first ever attempt at writing a threesome, these 2 men just really needed to be written together in my opinion 🥵 I’m not super proud of this but hopefully y’all like it 🫶🏼

Giving yourself a once over pulling at the hem of your skirt, you questioned if it was too short. Knowing the boys you were hanging around they’d surely love if it was, so you opted to ask Jamie, the least likely to undress you with his eyes and give you his honest opinion.

“Jamieee!”

Soon enough the jet black haired boy appeared in the doorway of your bathroom, his outfit making you chuckle.

“I swear to god you and Cam really said what’s the most generic outfit to wear for a country music festival…anyways, thoughts?”

Hands on your hips you did a spin, giving him the opportunity to take in your outfit. A black mini skirt and black cowboy boots, paired with a white tank top that read j’adore cowboys and a black cowboy hat to top it off. Jamie’s jaw slightly parted as he looked you up and down.

“I feel like I reallyyy dropped the ball now seeing you.”

He flashed you a shy smile as you took his words as a sign that you looked good. Tipping your cowboy hat to him as you walked past, stealing his High Noon in the process as you tossed back the remnants that were in the can.

“Thanks Jimmy!”

The sounds of Morgan Wallen blasting from the kitchen of the airbnb as you walked in to find Cam pouring shots for you all.

“Where the hell is everyone?”

Noticing the house was empty you checked the time, assuming you were running late as you usually did. However today you managed to be almost 30 minutes early, a new record for you.

“They are on their way and-holy shit, someone is trying to get all the cowboys hot and bothered today huh?”

Cam flashed you a cocky smirk as he handed you a shot, leaning against the counter while he took in your outfit. Playing with the silver sparkly chain that laid over the skin of your exposed stomach.

“Don’t you know that necklaces are meant for your neck?”

Cam leaning in towards you, grinning from ear to ear before you’d mirrored him, your faces inches from one another.

“Don’t you know that I don’t give a fuck?”

Raising your eyebrows you tossed back your shot, giving him a wink before Jamie joined the two of you asking for his own.

The dynamic between the two boys was one you’d never fully understood, but it made sense. Cam was outspoken, a cocky fuck to put it plainly, who would tell you exactly what he wanted to say, whether it was something you wanted to hear or not. The energy between the two of you was always one of trying to one up each other, your competitive sides always on display. But Jamie, he was the total opposite. Soft spoken, mindful of anything and everything that came out of his mouth. He was the one you went to for advice, the late night talks where you’re up until 3am eventually forgetting the point of the conversation.

Though bringing the two of them together always guaranteed a good time. Hot guys, alcohol, and a music festival, a girl was living the dream.

Once the rest of your group had arrived, it was time to head out. The girls of course needing to take tons of pictures before leaving, making the boys roll their eyes but giving them the opportunity to toss back a few more shots.

“Why’d she call you to her room earlier Jim?”

Cam shot Jamie a playful smirk as the boys trailed behind the girls on the long path to the entrance gates, to which he shook his head with a laugh.

“No way dude, don’t even go there. She asked me what I thought of her outfit.”

Rolling his eyes Cam threw an arm over Jamie’s shoulder. His voice now just above a whisper as he didn’t want the group to overhear.

“You’re telling me that outfit she has on isn’t driving you crazy? Cause shit, she is driving me crazy right now in that mini skirt.”

“Keep it in your pants dude!”

Jamie shoved Cam from his side with a laugh, trying to ignore his friend's comments. Cam just putting his hands up with a shrug. “Listen Jim, if you won’t finally make a move, I just might.”

Jamie had hid his feelings for you since the day you’d met. He had never seen a girl so beautiful, but he wasn’t the type to be forward and blunt about how he felt. Unlike Cam who made it known that he thought you were hot and would do anything for a chance with you. Jamie had told Cam in confidence one night how he felt, at the time not knowing that Cam felt the same way. And since then it had been their secret, one that almost brought out the competitiveness between them whenever the three of you got together.

-

Several hours into the festival, having been spent in the direct sunlight, it was safe to say you were in need of water and food. Thanking yourself for picking an outfit that didn’t have much fabric so you were somewhat cooler than those who had multiple layers. The boys benefited from the fact that they could simply take their shirts off, while you could only put your hair up in hopes of it cooling you down.

“If I don’t get french fries in my mouth in the next five minutes, I might actually die.”

You groaned as you sat on the grass, fanning yourself with you hat as your friend group followed suit. All of you trying to rest before you headed off to the next artist’s stage.

“Someone ask for some french fries?”

Jamie smiled as he sat down next to you, handing you a basket of fries, seeing the look on your face as you practically scarfed them down in seconds.

“I could kiss you right now Jamie oh my god!”

The phrase making his eyes go wide, despite knowing that there was likely no intention behind it. Though he couldn’t help but think back to Cam’s words from earlier. Hoping that maybe today, in a moment of drunken false confidence, he’d work up the courage to finally make a move.

“Oh my god!”

Jamie was shook from his thoughts as he looked at you, concerned that something was wrong.

“What!?”

“You even remembered I love ranch with my fries? God I love you Jamie!”

He softly smiled as he was happy to know he’d made your day remembering such a minor detail about you. The two of you sitting in silence as you refueled yourselves before heading off to the next spot.

“I really do like your outfit today by the way. Sorry I got a little tongue tied when you asked me this morning.”

You watched Jamie slightly blush as he spoke, his eyes not connecting with yours as he seemed almost nervous about his words. A smile on your face as you continue munching on your fries.

“Tongue tied? Because of?”

“How hot you looked, obviously.”

The words catching you off guard coming from Jamie, sure he’d complimented you before but never so bluntly. Perhaps it was the alcohol, or maybe the heat was getting to him. But it was a side of him you liked. Having spent so much time with Cam you thought for sure he would’ve gained some of Cam’s confidence, his boldness. But he’d remained the kind and gentlemanly man he’d been since the day you met, which you appreciated in contrast to Cam. Though sometimes you wanted to see that cockier side of Jamie, and see him be more outspoken. Not let Cam run the show or call the shots so much.

“You think I look hot?”

“Oh absolutely, you alwa-“

“Don’t mind if it do!”

Cam interrupted Jamie’s words as he pushed between the two of you, stealing a few fries from your basket before he tipped his hat to you and blew you a kiss.

“Thank you little lady.”

You rolled your eyes at him, shaking your head before you looked back at Jamie who was awkwardly laughing off the situation. Almost thankful Cam interrupted so he didn’t end up saying what he planned.

You tucked some hair behind your ear as he offered to help you stand up, taking your empty fry basket and tossing it in the trash as your group was ready to start walking again.

“Jamie, you were saying something? Before we were rudely interrupted!”

Making the gesture as if you were going to kick Cam in the butt as you empathized your words, causing Jamie to laugh.

“Just that, you always look hot to me.”

He flashed you a wink before one of the guys had called him away for something, lucky for you as a blush was quickly creeping over your cheeks. Hopefully disguised as you just being flush from the heat so no one would think much of it.

As your group made your way to the final stage of the night, you all had grown eager for the final performer. It was the main reason you’d come to the festival, and you all were ready to sing until your voices gave out.

Onlookers probably thought your group was annoying, the way you all belted out the lyrics, dancing around with one another. But none of you cared, enjoying every second of the night you all had been looking forward to all summer.

As you danced around, you noticed Jamie standing and talking with Trevor, drinks in hand like two awkward freshman at their first college party. Making your way over to them, you grabbed Jamie’s hand, attempting to bring him out of his shell a bit.

“Jamie don’t make me dance alone, come onnn!”

He smiled down at you as you took his hands in yours, laughing as you belted out the words along with the crowd. But despite being as drunk as he was, he wasn’t giving you much to work with. Simply rocking back and forth as he watched you. A smile on his face as he’d wondered if this was his chance, to make his move like Cam had teased him about.

But as the song came to an end, you’d let go of his hands and clapped along with the crowd. Looking on in anticipation as you all tried to predict the next song, Jamie immediately missing the feel of your hands in his as he rejoined Trevor at the back of the group.

The second the slower strums of the guitar started, you threw your hands to your hat in shock, searching the area for Cam as you knew his reaction would be similar. This song had been your favorite from the album, and you’d each had it on repeat for weeks leading up to tonight.

He’d found you from across the group, the two of you immediately belting out the words as he wrapped his arms around you, swaying you to the music before he’d switched to slow dancing.

Jamie watched as you threw your head back laughing, the way Cam’s hands were resting at your waist, beating himself up for being too concerned about what people thought to dance with you how you’d wanted. He couldn’t blame Cam for the way he acted around you, Cam wasn’t afraid to show you how he felt towards you. And you seemed to appreciate the boldness of him. And while Jamie felt he expressed his feelings in other ways, he was starting to think that it wasn’t good enough.

-

After several hours in the sun and far too much alcohol, you all were ready to head home. The house was only a short walk once outside the fairgrounds, but your feet were killing you in your boots and you were sure they would be covered in blisters. Every step hurt worse than the last, and you were ready to take your boots off and leave them behind.

“Ouch, fuck.”

Jamie noticed you wincing as you walked, and in true Jamie fashion he’d thought up an idea. Stopping you in your tracks, he’d positioned himself in front of you, slightly bending down before instructing you to jump.

Normally you’d question him whether or not he was sober enough to carry you, but with the alcohol flowing through your system and the pain in your feet, you gladly accepted. Wrapping your arms around his neck, his arms around your thighs, the two of you were the closest you’d ever been. Your cheek practically touching his as he carried you with ease down the trail.

His eyes occasionally catching yours before you’d look away embarrassed. Luckily the amount of alcohol in your system and a slight sunburn was hiding any blush that had appeared on your cheeks.

“You good?”

Jamie smirked at you as his eyes traveled from yours to your lips, then back. Something in them was different, and you felt almost nervous to be so close to him. Taking the time to appreciate how good he smelled, the way his face lit up when he looked at you. Sure you’d always thought Jamie was attractive, but you’d never thought about him in that way. But feeling his biceps flex as he carried you with ease, his hands gripping your thighs just beneath your ass, you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol getting you warm or something else.

“Giddy up cowboy!”

The sting of Cam slapping your ass quickly pulled you out of the moment with Jamie as you playfully yelped. A hand leaving Jamie’s neck to grab at your ass, rubbing the sore spot before you cursed Cam.

“Don’t have it on display if you don’t want me touching it, little lady.”

He playfully tipped his hat at you, flashing a wink before he ran to catch up with some of the guys.

“He’s such a perv.”

You laughed as your arm returned to wrap around Jamie’s neck. Noticing how Jamie’s expression had turned a bit annoyed, not used to seeing him that way.

“Jamie, what’s wrong?”

He shook his head, trying to laugh it off and pretend like it was nothing. Embarrassed that he was even getting jealous over Cam’s interactions with you.

“Nothing, it’s, it’s nothing.”

You glared at him as he kept his eyes forward, knowing him all too well to believe that it was simply nothing. He could feel your eyes practically burning a hole in his cheek, finally letting out a sigh as he gave in.

“I mean, it’s not like it’s anything you don’t already know. It’s silly that I’m even bothered by Cam wanting to fuck you so bad.”

You practically choked on your own saliva hearing the words pour from Jamie’s mouth. Sure you knew that Cam flirted with you, hell he flirted with every girl that crossed his path. But either you don’t know him well enough, or you’re just oblivious to him wanting to sleep with you.

“Um, actually I didn’t know that…but why does that bother you?”

Jamie knew he could risk jeopardizing his friendship with you, but Cam was right. He needed to finally man up and make a move or he’d never have the chance.

“Because I obviously like you too. You can’t tell me you’ve never noticed it? I mean I don’t run around slapping your ass and drooling over you in front of your face. But, Cam and I feel the same way. We have for, well forever.”

“So you want to fuck me too?”

Jamie bit his tongue, unsure if he should open up a can of worms with his response. He knew the second he’d admitted how he felt, there was no turning back.

-

“You fucking told her?”

Cam’s voice was barely above a whisper as he scolded Jamie, shocked to know he’d finally grew a pair and told you how he felt. But not without dragging Cam into the mix along with him.

“Well, you told me to make a move, but then you were busy making a move and I got jealous and she noticed and it just slipped out!”

The two of them whisper bickering back and forth, trying not to make too much noise for you to overhear as you’d gone to take your hat and boots up to your room.

“It slipped out for you to tell our best friend that we both want to fuck her? Jimmy I swear to god I could kill you!”

Walking into the kitchen you couldn’t help but notice the two boys awkwardly stopping their conversation. Both of them smiling at you as if to cover up something.

“Um, hi?”

“Hey, how uh, are your feet feeling?”

Jamie tried his best to break up the awkwardness, Cam slightly laughing at his choice of a convention starter as he walked over to the island to crack open a drink.

“What is going on with you two?”

Leaning on the counter as you snacked on some chips, holding a hand out for Cam to pass you his drink so you could steal a sip. His eyes darting from Jamie to you as he handed it over, a smirk on his lips as he chuckled.

“Look, I know Jamie let the cat out of the bag. So, we just want to know, who would you pick?”

Leaning against the counter as he took his drink back from you, Cam couldn’t help but smile. Crossing his arms over his chest as he awaited your response. Jamie’s eyes wide as he had no part in the questioning, easily you knew this was Cam’s idea.

“I’m sorry?”

Playing dumb you countered the question as you walked over to Cam, jumping up to sit on the counter as he shook his head. He could see right through you, knowing that you knew exactly where he was going with this conversation. But you figured you’d have a little fun with the two of them, make things more interesting.

Cam looked to Jamie, seeing that he wasn’t going to be the one to push the conversation forward, per usual he’d have to be the one to take the lead.

“I said, which one of us would you pick to fuck you?”

Cam’s hands were now on either side of your thighs, his lips inches from yours as he studied your response, seeing how you’d slightly tensed up as he got closer. Your breath hitching in your throat at his forwardness.

“I have to pick?”

A playful tone in your voice as you raised an eyebrow at him, watching as he leaned back against the counter behind him to join Jamie. The two boys in front of you impatiently waiting for a response. Cam assuredly thinking the answer would be him simply on account of his boldness. While Jamie was hoping it was him to knock Cam off his high horse, wanting this competition between the two of them to finally be over with.

“Can I pick both?”

Both of their eyes going wide at your response as they were sure you were joking, earning a slight laugh from you. The idea certainly not one you’d had prior to this very moment, but who could blame you?

Cam had always struck you as the type of guy you’d normally go for. Outspoken, a little bit of an asshole, knows he’s hot and will be sure to remind you of it. But could back it up with his body and his ability to make you blush with every flirtatious comment that came off his lips.

Jamie on the other hand, was more reserved and lacked the surplus of confidence Cam possessed. He’d compliment you, but never too boldly. Always a gentleman and respectful, though you often wondered what he might be hiding should you ever get past his shy demeanor. Like Cam, his body was one you’d occasionally get caught staring at, the both of them strict about their gym routines and it showed.

Still in their cutoff flannels from the festival your eyes landed on their biceps, then traveling to their chests that were peeking out due to one too many buttons being undone. Which you definitely appreciated, having to squeeze your thighs together to help with the building pressure you’d started to feel as you thought about the idea of the two of them finally getting their hands on you after wanting the opportunity for so long.

Cam took notice of you pressing your thighs together, a smirk on his lips as he looked at Jamie, who was clearly hot and bothered himself over the idea as he awkwardly adjusted his stance as if to hide a growing problem in his shorts.

“Well, what do you say Jimmy, should we give the little lady what she wants?”

He waited for a moment, to get some type of response from Jamie, but he clearly was unsure of the idea. Like a deer in headlights as he watched Cam close the distance between the two of you. His lips immediately on yours, sloppy as he’d clearly been aching to have this moment. As predicted, Cam fought you for dominance. His tongue pushing past your lips as his hands gripped your face, a slight moan escaping you as you gripped his ginger curls.

Cam playfully bit your lip before his trailing kisses down to your neck. First sucking, then biting, and finally trailing his tongue over the red marks to soothe the skin.

“Fuck Cam”

He smirked against your skin hearing his name pour from your lips, urging him to continue. As your eyes slowly fluttered open, you found Jamie trying to ease the discomfort in his shorts. Embarrassed when he locked eyes with you, unsure of what to do. Sensing his hesitation to jump in, clearly by Cam taking charge of the situation, you reached a hand out to him. Pulling him towards you by his shirt as his hands softly rested on your thighs.

“Oh come on Jamie, you said you wanted to fuck me right?”

Your tone playful as you teased him, pulling him by the chin to your lips. Fingers tangled in his black locks as his hand moved to your waist, lightly digging into your skin as he finally seemed to relax.

“Atta boy Jimmy, don’t be shy. She wants it just as bad as you do.”

The kiss intensified as Jamie became more comfortable, a hand slowly pushing past your tank top to find your lace covered breasts. His hand immediately bypassing the fabric, earning a moan of approval from you as you broke the kiss, gazing up at both boys with lust filled eyes. The two of them unsure what to do next as they’d not planned for a moment like this.

“How about we go somewhere that gives us a little more space to work with?”

Biting your lip you nodded in agreement, Cam pulling you in for one last kiss before he led the way upstairs. Jamie offering to help you from the counter, to which you accepted. But not without trying to ease his nerves in the process.

Wrapping your arms around his neck you pulled him in for a kiss, his hands gripping at your waist as your legs circled his, inviting him to lift you off the counter.

Jamie carried you upstairs, the two of you stealing more kisses from one another before he laid you on the bed. Cam tossing his shirt to the side, then discarding his shorts before he’d begun trailing kisses up your thighs.

Jamie following suit before joining you on the bed, his lips finding yours again as his hands pulled your tank top over your head, eyes immediately getting ahead of his actions and undressing you further. Your hand dropping to his cock that was pressing against your side through his briefs. Jamie moaning into the kiss as you palmed him over the fabric.

Cam noticed your focus on Jamie, lightly biting at your inner thigh to gain your attention.

“Ow fuck, Cam!”

“Sorry, you were giving him all the attention. I want to know I’m making you feel good too baby.”

His hands hooked into the waistband of your skirt, pulling it down with your thong in one motion. Instinctually you closed your legs, nervous for the boys to see you so vulnerable, but Cam immediately gripped your thighs, pulling them apart as he positioned himself at your core.

“Come on baby, you can’t be shy now. You chose both remember?”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt Cam’s tongue trace up your slit, your free hand falling to his hair as you gripped his curls. The other hand pushing past the waistband of Jamie’s briefs, stroking him slowly as his lips fell to your neck. Breath heavy as he moaned against your skin.

“Fuck.”

His moans were needy, telling you’d need more than just your hand.

“Take these off, let me give you more than just a hand.”

Lifting his hips, Jamie pulled down his briefs. His cock slapped against his stomach as your jaw had slightly dropped at the sight. His size definitely not what you’d expected but you weren’t complaining.

“Mmm, you gonna suck his cock while I eat your pussy baby?”

Without warning Cam slips a finger between your folds to accompany the work of his tongue. Your hips arching off the bed into his touch as Jamie pulled you towards the edge of the bed, tilting your jaw to face him as he stroked his cock. Eyes falling to yours for the go ahead before slowly thrusting into your mouth.

“Holy…fuck.”

His hands falling to your hair, guiding you down as far as you’d let him. Gagging as you deepthroated him, Jamie’s breathing harsh as his head fell back at the feeling.

“Mm, she being a good girl for you Jim?”

“So fucking good.”

Jamie’s eyes met yours as he watched you take all of him in your mouth, his grip tightening in your hair as he fought the urge to fuck your face. Wanting to go easy on you and not rush anything.

Cam dipped a second finger into you without warning, picking up his pace as your hips bucked against him. His free hand moving to hold your hips in place. Wanting to help you ride out your orgasm.

“Fuck, oh my god Cam I’m gonna cum.”

“Don’t stop fucking her face Jim, make her take it.”

Jamie grabbed your hair, finally giving in to his urges. Thrusting into you as his cock hit your throat, eyes watering as you felt your climax closing in. Cam’s tongue and fingers in unison as your clenched around them, hips lifting off the bed as you came. Your moans muffled as your mouth was preoccupied with Jamie’s cock.

“Mm, she tastes so fucking good Jim. Come try for yourself.”

Jamie pulled his cock from your lips, taking Cam’s place between your legs. His eyes flashing up to you for approval before you gripped his hair and urged him to taste you.

Cam positioning himself behind you as his hands gripped your breasts, kneading the skin before focusing on your nipples as he watched Jamie along with you.

Jamie’s tongue slowly traced your slit, stopping to pay attention to your clit, the sensation causing you to buck against his face as you were still coming down from your high. Cam’s lips falling to your neck, kissing and biting at the skin before he brought your lips to his.

Hearing you moan into his mouth let him know Jamie was doing a good job. He watched as your hands gripped his hair tight, grinding your hips to match the rhythm of his tongue and fingers.

“You want him to fuck you now? I think you can handle it baby.”

Biting your lip you nodded your head, fingers releasing their grip in Jamie’s hair, though he continued. Enjoying the taste of you as he’d felt you tighten your grip on his fingers, letting him know you were close.

“Tell him what you want, use your words.”

“Please Jamie, fuck me. I need you.”

The words pouring from your lips like magic to his ears, his cock twitching at the sound of you begging for him. Pulling his fingers from you, immediately earning a whine as you already missed the contact. Cam’s fingers soon taking over as Jamie lined himself with your entrance.

He stroked himself a few times before thrusting into you, the feeling of Jamie’s cock stretching you while Cam’s fingers circled your clit had you seeing black.

“How does she feel Jim?”

“So fucking tight, fuck!”

Jamie’s hands gripped your hips as he couldn’t bother going slow, his thrusts hard and quick as he’d already been close since you’d had him in your mouth.

“Does he feel good baby? Stretching you out while I rub your clit?”

Cam’s cocky smirk was working overtime. You always assumed he was a freak, but you swore he was made for sex. The way dirty talk rolled off his lips and had you dripping wet at the sound, you were wondering how you’d gone so long without this.

“Mhm, feels so fucking good. I, I’m so close. Please don’t fucking stop.”

But instead he pulled himself from you, a gasp catching in your throat as you’d had your climax halted from the immediate loss.

You looked at Jamie as he climbed onto the bed, laying down next to you as he stroked himself.

“It’s only fair Cam gets a chance to feel how tight you are too baby.”

The sound of Jamie calling you baby had you melting, rolling over onto your knees as Cam gladly took advantage of the opportunity to fuck you from behind. His grip tight on your hip as he teased your slit with his cock, loving how wet you were.

“Ready baby?”

Ready as you’d ever be.

You’d taken Jamie’s cock back into your mouth as his hands tangled into your hair, forcing you down his length as Cam finally thrusts into you. Your moans muffled as you deepthroated Jamie, Cam’s fingers leaving bruises on your skin as he held you while his thrusts showed no signs of ceasing.

“Fuck, pussy is so tight baby. Jimmy didn’t stretch you out too much huh?”

“Fuck you Cam!”

You watched as Jamie spat back at Cam before his eyes reconnected with yours as your hand began working in unison with your mouth. His hips bucking against you as he grew close to his climax.

“Shit…I’m gonna cum baby. Keep sucking his cock, make sure he cums for you.”

“Mmm, shit. I’m gonna cum.”

Both boys moans turning you on, the low groans and grunts that spilt from their lips as they both were nearing their peaks. Watching as Jamie’s abs twitched while his breaths were short and choppy.

“Yes, fuck, ah”

The boys groaned out almost in unison. Jamie’s head fell back against the pillow as he came, your mouth still on his length as you felt the warmth of his seed hit the back of your throat. Making sure to swallow it all while you felt Cam pull his length from you as he came on your ass.

The three of you sweaty and exhausted as you tried to catch your breath. Cam heading to the restroom to grab a towel, while Jamie found you a tshirt and himself some shorts.

As the three of you got cleaned up, you nestled between the two of them under the blankets. Your head on Jamie’s chest with your legs were tangled with Cam’s, his fingers tracing circles on your thigh.

“So, you think you’ll be more likely to come visit us in Philly next season?”

Cam raised an eyebrow at you while Jamie just laughed, a hand running through your hair as you shrugged.

“I mean, if the visit is anything like tonight, I don’t see why not.”

The boys both smiling at your answer, pleased with themselves that they didn’t disappoint. Happy to have finally gotten the chance at something they were sure would never happen.

“I think the real question we want to know is, who was better? And it’s okay if you need to tell Cam he was better just so his feelings don’t get hurt, I understand.”

Rolling your eyes you could not believe how competitive they truly were. Although you could, considering that they made it a point to trash talk each other during sex.

“Mmm, hate to say it but I think it’s a tie. We might need to try again to solidify a winner?”

[thoughtsforsoob]

im thinking about y/n fucking CEO yeonjun for a raise

CEO!YEONJUN X F!READER

a/n: hello anon!! thank you for the ask :) I usually wouldn’t write something like this (because I’m a strong independent woman that has tons of self respect) but for yeonjun I’d do pretty much anything 🥰 that’s my man right there. Anyways, please enjoy!!

You had just graduated college not so long ago and you were finally out looking for a job! You managed to secure your first position at your first choice company, working as a software developer! you were so proud of yourself and you were happy to finally be able to be independent and support yourself. You had a small apartment and nice things in said apartment but sometimes, you wish you had a little more money to save and to use to go out with your friends once in a while. hence why, after about 6 months, you go in to have a netting with your boss: yeonjun.

you were nervous about this meeting for a few different reasons. Yeonjun was a really handsome individual. Like…so handsome that he border-lined sexy. How could you possibly think of your boss this way? That’s so wrong! You did your best to avoid him because everytime you spoke to him, your cheeks and ears would go bright red and he could see your shyness.

Now, you were stepping into his office after his receptionist said you could. You took a breath before opening the door and finally walked in. There he was, in his usual fancy work attire, looking sexy as always. He was wearing a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and his usual black slacks. He never wore fancy shoes though, always opting for vans or converse that also came in black. That made him a little less intimidating but still, you were no less nervous to speak to him.

He smiled when he saw it was you and other you to take a seat. “Oh y/n, come on in. Take a seat! Would you like anything to drink?” You shake your head no and he looks at you still. “So, tell me what you’re in for today? Is everything alright around the office?” You look down at your hands and then up at him, “yeah, everything in the office is okay. I kinda needed to ask more of a personal question.” Yeonjun nods and you ask your question. “A raise? Well, you have been doing really well. You’re probably one of our best employees.” Your eyes go wide and you smile. “Really? Does that mean you’ll consider a raise? Even if it’s a small one. I kinda need it.” He looks at you and thinks for a second, “well, maybe I’ll consider if you do something for me.” You were curious as to what he wanted so you asked him and you were shocked to hear his answer. “Just have sex with me. I think you’re really beautiful. If you do it, I’ll give you a $10 raise.” Your eyes get bigger at his offer. A whole ten extra dollars an hour??? That would be plenty to save up for that new hand bag you wanted!

you usually had a little more self-respect than this but you couldn't help it. the offer was too good to pass up no matter what you had to do. thats how you find yourself bent over your bosses desk, skirt bunched up at your waist and panties pooling at your ankles. he's standing behind you, teasing you dripping slit with his erection. he's smirking and using his free hand to caress your ass. "so pretty. how did i not ask for this sooner?"

he finally decided to stop teasing and pushing himself inside of you. you whine at the sudden intrustion and he leans over, grabbing one of your hands and intertwing it with his. "its okay, sweet girl. no need to whine. it's not gonna hurt for long." he kisses your cheek and pulls back to his previous position. when you tell him it was okay to move, he finally starts to thrust. he goes gently the whole time and calls you such pretty names. "such a beautiful girl taking it so well. you like this, hmm? when a big, important man treats you nicely?"

he continues his movements until you starts whining to cum. "mm sir...please. wanna-" you were cut off by his groan. "sir? you called me sir? say it again." he sniffle from the tears falling from your eyes, "sir! please!" he groans again and leans over again, getting closer to your face. "cum for me, pretty. wanna see that gorgeous face." with his words, you were sent overthe edge and finally let go. you cry out at the euphoric feeling and yeonjun continues to thrust, pulling out when he's ready to cum. he pumps himself a few more times and cums all over your ass. he smirks when he sees his work.

when you're done, you attempt to put your clothes back on buthe stops you. "hey, what are you doing? let me take care of you." you were suprised by this and turned, "sir, are you sure? you don;t have to do that. i understand if you don't have time for me beyond this." he shakes his head and chuckles, "i don't just have sex with anyone. what if i liked you and wanted to take you on a date? what wold you say?" you look at his eyes and they were sincere. "mm fine. lets go on a date." he smiled and kissed your cheek.

once he finally cleans you up and dresses you once again, he escorts you out of his offce with a wink and his phone number now in your phone.

[lilybug-02]

[Heart Shaped Object]

Thoughts and Drawing progression below 🫀

[this is one without a glow effect on the heart. I like both equally.]

Holy cow, am I glad to finish this! I’m really proud with how it turned out :))) I had a strong feeling for what I wanted out of this with the realistic human heart, blood, and perspective.

I tried going realistic for 30 minutes but 🤡umm I’m not very good at realistic. Kris almost looked like a middle aged punk rocker which is NOT what I wanted.

I always feel like my sketches come out better than my final, but so is life. Can’t be perfect. Also this image is so cursed it almost got corrupted and I almost lost all of my progress 😳🫀🥺🤡

(and then Tumblr basically blocked this image from most of my followers because one of the images and video weren't compatible? Very annoying..)

Anyways I haven’t seen a full render of Kris holding an actual human heart. There’s a ton of versions of them just holding a bloody cartoonish heart, but I WANT MORE. Thought I may change the status quo ❤️ This was also my first time trying to do blood, so it was a fun learning curve. I was planning for a Halloween release, but I got busy. Hope you enjoy!

Here's the link to the speedpaint!

[loonylesbian]

ok i am very much so not a writer, or at least not creatively. but i had this idea and i couldn’t get it out of my head so i decided to write it out. it ended up being 6.1k words so feel free to not finish it cause i’m sure it’s not good. however if you do read the entire thing i hope you like it and don’t clown on me too hard. long story short either you’re welcome for this or i’m sorry for this. there is no inbetween

naked in manhattan // k. martin

10 years ago

“Kate can you believe it! We’re starting high school!!!” you scream, hugging your best friend on the last day of summer. If you were being totally honest, you were nervous never being good at making friends, always relying on Kate for that. Her being so outgoing and friendly, it’s not that you weren’t nice, you really were, if anyone asked Kate would say that you’re the sweetest person she’s ever met, you were just shy. Talking to just about anyone made you nervous, in fact, you had a short list of people who didn’t make you nervous.

“I know! It’s gonna be great, I’m gonna do my best in basketball and volleyball, and you, my little genius, are gonna be the best in every class, and make tons of new friends,” she reassured you as if she could feel the nerves radiating off of you in waves. You were grateful for that, she had always been able to know exactly what you were feeling and how to help, even if you didn’t. It was one of your favorite things about her, sure there were too many things you loved about her to count, but that was one of your absolute favorites.

“I promise I’m gonna do my best to make it to each and every single game of yours,” you told her holding up your pinky while looking up at her, she giggled and interlocked her pinky with yours in a pinky promise, something you have insisted on doing since you met. You swore that it was more real than a regular promise, and made it to where the universe let the promise happen, not just the people involved.

“Well if it’s a pinky promise, I know you're never gonna miss a game,” she replied with a smile reserved just for you.

7 years ago

So far your promise had held, not without some struggle, but you had still attended every game Kate had for both sports she played, and just about every other game she just wanted to watch. There were a few games where you were late because of your job, studying, or other things that had gotten in the way, and the two times where you sat as far away from everyone else as humanly possible because you didn’t want to get them sick but also didn’t want to miss Kate’s game, but for the most part you sat right at the front to cheer on your best friend.

After the game tonight you guys were gonna have a sleepover as tradition for Friday night games, whether it resulted in a win or a loss. Either way, you usually ended up in her arms bringing her comfort, whether that be her knowing that she deserves it because she played well and won to bring her down from that high or wishing she had done things differently to change that loss and you reassuring her that it wasn’t all her fault, because as far as your were concerned basketball was a team sport and a loss couldn’t hang solely on one person's shoulders. After all, you were her number one supporter, never failing to let her know how proud of her you are and how much you love her no matter how she feels. You made everything feel okay for her, but it was the least you could do, afterall she did that and more for you.

when i sing that lana song it makes you cry

On the drive back to her house listening to the radio, she couldn’t help but look at you as much as she could without crashing the car. She couldn't help but feeling like she was was really listening to the song for the first time as you were singing along to “Young and Beautiful” by Lana Del Ray. She didn’t quite know what it was but when she looked at you and listened to you singing she couldn't help but feel her heart race and her body flush, she swore she could listen to you forever. Had someone told her in that moment she would never get to hear you sing like that, she would swear she’d cry And if anyone asked, she would tell them she liked girls, it wasn’t like it was a secret, and she’s had crushes before, she knows what it feels like. But she never thought she would have a crush on you, purely because you were her best friend, she couldn’t do that, it could ruin your friendship. That wasn't something she was willing, or at least wanted, to risk. A friendship that you've had since kindergarten, although now that she thought about it, it was basically a lesbian right of passage to fall in love with your best friend and-

mean girls we watch every night, and we both have a crush on regina george

“So wanna watch Mean Girls?” you ask abruptly interrupting her thoughts. Truth be told she’s glad that you did, it was probably best that she didn’t dwell on those thoughts for too long. Little did she know she wasn’t the only one who wasn’t having completely friendly thoughts about the other. She was just the only one who wasn’t in total denial about liking girls in the first place.

“Obviously. As if we would watch anything else first,” she replies with a scoff as if it were crazy for you to even ask. Although, to be fair it was crazy of you to ask because that was the first movie you watched anytime you had a sleepover, and it had been that way for years.

“Sorry. Sorry. I forgot you had a crush on Regina George,” you said with a small chuckle, brushing off the twinge of pain you felt at the idea of Kate having a crush on anyone else, even if it was a fictional character from a movie. Because why would you be sad or jealous about that? She was just your best friend, right?

Kate flushed even more red at this comment if that were possible with the combination of the game she had just played and watching you. Even though it was chilly outside and in the car, in that moment it felt like it was 100°. She wasn’t sure if it was nerves or joy that was causing her to feel that way, but she did. In that moment life was perfect, the chill in the air, the rain falling around the car they sat in, the now soft music coming from the speakers, and most importantly you. She wished she could stay in that moment forever, just taking you in, stuck in that perfect moment forever. She let out a slightly nervous chuckle, lightly biting her lip, before she replied, not wanting to break the peace she felt.

“Okay, okay, don’t act like you don’t have a crush on her too. I know you have a thing for blondes.” She finally lets out trying to wave you off and ignore her pounding heartbeat, all while trying to steal another glance at you. What she doesn’t notice, however, is your face flushing or your fists clenching when she says that as if she uncovered a deep dark secret, that you hadn’t told anybody. And to be fair that’s exactly how you felt, you did have a crush on this mean girl and you did have a thing for blondes, but you hadn’t quite come to terms with that yourself, let alone talk to anybody about it. So if anyone asked, the blondes you had a thing for were blonde guys, but you were hoping nobody would ask. Even if that person was Kate, your best friend.

And you didn’t notice her grip on the steering wheel tighten a little bit, waiting for a response. Hoping you would do or say anything to acknowledge what she had said, telling her she was right or wrong, waving her off altogether, laughing. She waited for any acknowledgment of what she had said for the rest of the ride home, but it never came. Instead, you changed the subject all together after sitting in silence for a few minutes. You hoped she didn’t notice that, but she did.

And so you followed your typical Friday night game routine, going to her house, watching Mean Girls, finding yourselves tangled up together but never acknowledging it, and then turning on some other random show or movie before falling asleep. Still in each other's arms. Still, just best friends.

6 years ago

Today was the day, the last full day before your crush best friend was leaving you. Ok well not you per se, but she was leaving. And yes you were also going to leave and go even farther in a few weeks, but that’s beside the point. It still felt like she was leaving you and it just didn’t feel right. You couldn’t exactly put into words how or why you felt so badly about it, but you did. Maybe the fact that you had never been apart for longer than a week played a part in it. Sure, you were both gonna go off and hopefully live your dreams, but it just didn’t feel right to do that away from each other. However, she was going to Iowa and you were going to New York and there's nothing you could do to change that now. And you did genuinely think about going to Iowa instead, but New York was your dream, so when you got into culinary school there you decided to go. You knew you loved it and you knew that New York was a great place to start, not to get started on the fact that it could take you literally anywhere you wanted to go. That didn’t make the decision any less painful though.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” you whispered in Kate’s ear giving her a hug. You honestly don’t know why you’re saying it right now, it’s not like she's leaving right this second, but you still need to say it, and you’ll probably say it about 1,000 more times before you actually have to say goodbye in the morning after your final Friday night sleepover, even if it didn’t follow a game you guys have grown into the habit of doing this almost every Friday night. She squeezes you tighter if possible when she hears this, trying to burn that moment into her memory, knowing she loves you but it’s too late to do anything about it now, at least not anything serious. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you, to admit her feelings for you after years of friendship less than 24 hours before you guys go to different states for college. It would be cruel, and she told herself it would almost be more cruel if you felt the same way about her. She knew that you came to terms with being queer, at least enough to admit it to her and yourself, what she didn’t know is that a big part of that was you coming to terms with being in love with her. But still, it was too late and she had to let that be.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” Kate said with a big sigh before releasing you, muttering a quick “more than you could know,” under her breath, hoping you didn’t hear. Happy when you showed no indication of hearing the last part.

“But we still have a whole afternoon/night to do all of our favorite things together before I leave. And we can go get our favorite breakfast in the morning,” she said with a more upbeat tone, poking your sides slightly, trying to lighten your spirits too. Slightly succeeding when she saw you perk up a little, putting a small smile on her face.

“Okay, okay, so what do you say to popcorn, Mean Girls, and a bunch of candy?” you asked, slightly mimicking her accent. She replies with an eager nod. Grabbing your hand and pulling you to her room after making a pit stop for the snacks, failing to notice the blush that covered your cheeks. You simply follow her rushed pace, happy you decided to wear sweats and a tank top, as opposed to something like jeans to lounge around in.

By the time you were about halfway through the movie, you found yourself wrapped in her arms, like usual. But for some reason not knowing when you’ll see her again after this, and the cheesy high school coming-of-age movie in the background made you a little more confident. Not super confident to where you would outright tell Kate that you’re in love with her, but confident enough to try and hint at something, which is more than you’d ever been willing to do with anyone else. So that’s what you do. Especially after spending years denying your feelings, and almost a whole extra year hiding them.

“You know what sucks,” you start off looking up at her waiting for any kind of acknowledgment. She finally looks down at you with a light “Hmm?”

“I’m about to go to college and I haven’t even had my first kiss,” you say unable to stop your eyes from glancing down to her lips. This statement took her off guard, sure, you had never talked about anyone, guys or girls, but you’re you and she figured you had your first kiss and in your typical shy fashion, you just hadn't wanted to bring it up.

“What? No way!” she says laughing a little only realizing her mistake when she saw your face drop.

“No no no, I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t get how you of all people haven’t had your first kiss yet!” she exclaims “I mean you’re literally perfect, you’re beautiful, you’re smart, you’re funny, you’re a great cook, I mean you're my favorite person in the world. I just don’t get how no one’s kissed you yet!” she finished off her little rant with a small huff.

“Well no one’s wanted to,” you mumble looking down a little bit, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden.

“That’s not true,” she mumbles quieter now than she had been before, suddenly feeling almost as shy as you while taking you off guard. It was pretty obvious what she meant, no hidden meaning laced in with her words, unable to pick her gaze back up to your eyes once they dropped down to your lips.

“I mean would you?” you question with a little more confidence once you notice where she's looking. You can’t help but follow her lead and look down to her lips, before going back up to her eyes, even though she still wasn’t looking.

touch me baby, put your lips on mine

“It doesn’t have to be weird or anything, it's just you’re my best friend, and I’ve never kissed anyone, and you’re leaving tomorrow and I don’t want to go to college without at least having my first kiss,” you kind of spit out hoping you don’t sound pathetic or desperate, or make her want to kick you out.

“Would you want me to?” she questions back, already knowing your answer but just wanting to ask to know that you were sure.

“Yeah, I’d like that” You rush out in a kind of whisper to her nodding, so she nods back to you. You can both tell that you’re nervous, each for different reasons. All it takes for you to start leaning into each other is locking your eyes again. In that moment she looks like an angel, with the soft glow of the lamp making her hair look even more golden than usual, to the way she was looking at you, not to mention how you felt about the grip she had on you. You barely even had time to actually look at her before her lips crashed onto yours. And that’s exactly what it felt like in that moment, like waves crashing onto cliffs, a completely overwhelming feeling, yet still, it brought you a newfound sense of peace. She pulled you as close to her as possible, knowing that this may be the only time you get to do this, not wanting to be even an inch away from you. At this point you were basically straddling her while she was leaning up against her headboard, both wanting nothing more than to be together, knowing you couldn’t.

You had never kissed anyone before but thought to yourself that in that moment that if this is what it is like you never wanted to stop. Kate had kissed people before, and you knew that, but what you didn’t know was that none of those felt anything like with you. They couldn’t compare. Not by a long shot. If she didn’t know how much she loved you before, she definitely knew now. The only issue is that she knows this, it’s gonna make it even harder to leave you in the morning.

By the time you guys pull away breathless from a mixture of kissing, nerves, and giddiness, you can’t help but feel at peace, resting your foreheads against each other’s. Sure you knew that nothing could come of this, that nothing would come of this, at least not right now. But you were happy. Happy that you got to show her how much you love her in one small way, one new way. Happy that you got to know her, and happy that she felt the same way about you. Even if you guys didn’t necessarily talk about it, or say outright say it, you both knew that was always one of the best things about your friendship, you didn’t have to actually talk in order to communicate and get your point across, and even when you did need words you didn’t need many of them.

So when you guys make eye contact again you come to a silent agreement, you have that night, and the next morning to talk if you want. You know you love each other, but also that there's realistically nothing you can do for you to start a relationship at that moment and have it work out. Not when you were about to be nearly 1,000 miles apart. It wasn’t right to risk it. And you both know that you’re too important to each other to risk your friendship, especially when almost all of the circumstances are pointing to it not working out. So, you have that night, after that, you’re friends again, maybe not even best friends, and if it works out you can be together in the future when you can be closer. But for the time being this is for the best, this is safe.

April 2024 || Present Day

It had been years since you and Kate had last seen each other properly, there were brief passings when you were both in your hometown that resulted in short conversations, but you were both barely there, you less than her, and when you were your family made sure you never went longer than 20 minutes without them other than to let you sleep. You had stuck to being friends, not best friends, just friends. Never talking about that night, your last night together. Not wanting to risk it, not yet. Other than that, you guys have managed to text each other occasionally to check-in. Keeping each other updated on your lives, but not close. It was as if you had both come to the understanding that you should keep a certain level of distance so as not to ruin what you had. Knowing that if you talked more, you would’ve talked about what could have been more. And you just couldn’t risk it.

id love if you knew you were on my mind, constant like cicadas in the summertime

That’s not to say that you didn’t keep an eye on her and her basketball. You had been her #1 fan since day one, and even if you didn’t talk or see each other as much as you used to, you wouldn’t let that change. You still felt the exact same way when you thought about her, even if you tried not to. Even when you knew you shouldn’t. You just couldn’t stop thinking about her. While you obviously couldn’t go to all of her games anymore, you still watched every single one, even when you were at work during them you would try to either watch it on your phone or record it and watch it when you got home later. You even managed to take off work for both the Final Four and the Finals this year to watch her and her team, even if you didn’t make it in person, you still had to watch the games live. And once you heard that she had declared for the WNBA draft you had to get a ticket for that, it was perfect, it was in Brooklyn so you didn’t have to travel more than taking the subway. And this time you told yourself that you would talk to her, not go up to her at the draft but you would text her and let her know that you were gonna be there if she wanted to meet up after, or at any point while she was in town. You would make an effort to see her. You really didn’t know when the next time you’d get the chance to see her again would be, it’s been so long since the last time, partially due to schedule, partially due to nerves, and you were about to move across the country to Las Vegas for a new job. You figured it was now or never, and you really hoped you would get the chance to see her so you could get her out of your mind.

You knew you had to try. Try to talk to her, try to see her, try something. You couldn’t stand it anymore, constantly thinking about her, you needed closure, even if there wasn’t necessarily anything to get closure about. You still had to try. So even though you had grown up a lot in the past six years, you had learned to start a conversation instead of stuttering your way through when someone came up to you, gotten more friends, and most importantly gained confidence and figured out a pretty good idea of who you were. You were nowhere near as shy as you used to be, but still the mere idea of Kate brought back butterflies that made you feel like you were in high school again. Frankly, the feeling had to be classified as something stronger than butterflies. So obviously the idea of calling her went out the window for you, you figured she was so busy anyway that she probably wouldn't answer, and you told yourself that if she chose not to answer a text it would hurt less than not answering a call. And after a lot of thinking and rewriting, you finally sent her the text.

“Hey Kate, I heard you’re gonna be in town for the draft and I know you’re probably busy but I would love to see you. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve been keeping up with your games, I’m so proud of you, still your #1 fan, and can’t wait to see where you go. I’m gonna be at the draft rooting for you, just like I have been every step of the way even when I couldn’t physically be there. So if you wanna meet up after the draft or at any point while you’re in town let me know.”

Once you hit send you waited, and waited, and waited. Once it hit six hours with no response you figured you weren’t going to get one. Now that you had sent it, you realized that it was more nerve-wracking to sit and wait for the possibility of a response than to try and figure out what to say and hit send. Every possible reaction she could have had to your text was running through your head, well not every one, just every bad one. You didn’t know what she was thinking, or how she thought anymore, and that was terrifying to you. The nerves were so bad that to anyone watching you probably looked like a mess, flushed cheeks, sweaty, a little hunched over, and very clearly looking nauseous. But you were fine, it was no big deal.

You lied to yourself, it still hurt that you didn’t get an answer, but still decided to go to the draft anyway. Even if she didn’t want to see you, you still wanted to support her, figuring it was a big event and the chance of you seeing each other let alone talking were slim to none. You could go and didn’t have to talk if she didn’t want to. Plus you didn’t want to waste your money after you already bought the ticket and more than anything you wanted to support her, she was your first friend, your best friend, so far your most important friend, and now she's about to be a professional basketball player. You had to be there to see it come full circle, after spending the better part of ten years being able to count the number of her games you hadn’t seen on one hand, and saying you were her #1 fan, you just couldn’t miss it. Not for you, and certainly not for her.

By the time you had actually gotten to the draft and it started you were so focused on listening for Kate or her name, you couldn’t focus on anything else. You couldn’t hear anything that wasn’t related to her. You were confident that she was going to get drafted, but there was still a “what if” sitting in the back of your mind knowing your heart would break for her if she didn’t, maybe more than hers. Then you heard it, “With the 18th pick in the 2024 WNBA Draft, The Las Vegas Aces select Kate Martin, University of Iowa.” you were so focused on her getting on a team that you didn’t think of the city she might end up in. You wish you could hit rewind when you heard it, almost not believing it. She got drafted to the Las Vegas Aces, you would be in the same city for the first time in 6 years. There could be a chance of you guys actually happening. Of course, she still had to go through training camp and make the roster before she was officially on the team, but you have no doubt that that’s going to be the easy part compared to everything else that it took to get to that moment. Not to mention text you back. When you’re finally able to focus again, there have been a few more picks you decide to go on your phone and check Twitter to see what they are saying about the draft. What you didn't expect to see when you opened your phone, however, was a message from Kate.

🏀Kate 🏀

“Hey, sorry I didn’t see your message or get back to you earlier! I’m so happy that my #1 fan came to support me just like you have been all these years. It means the absolute world to me to know that you came here for me tonight because I wasn’t even sure I was gonna make it. I haven’t been on my phone like at all today, but I’d love if you’d come celebrate with me and my friends tonight? It only feels right that you’re there, you’ve been there for pretty much everything else already, you should be there to celebrate now too.”

When you read the text you could’ve sworn your stomach quite literally did flips, while a giddy feeling erupted through your body, even releasing a small, relieved, laugh. At this point, the last thing you were expecting was to get a response, at most expecting to go to a bar close to your apartment for a drink or two, if you were feeling frisky. But upon seeing her text, you decided “Why not?” and decided to respond.

“Yeah of course I’d love to celebrate with you and your friends!! You deserve it after all the hard work you put in to get here. Just send me the time and place and I’ll meet you there.”

You tried to keep your response short and sweet, not trying to read too much into what she said or trying to seem too eager. Although, you were quite excited to actually see her and have the opportunity to talk to her again. You figured it wasn’t guaranteed that you were even going to talk more than a simple greeting, let alone that she would want to talk about what happened the last time you spent any substantial amount of time together. Hell, you weren’t even sure you’d stay longer than half an hour. But before you could dwell on it too long, you got a response, with nothing more than an address and a time.

//

By the time you show up, which is 20 minutes late due to nerves alone, you are sure Kate had forgotten that she had even invited you. What you hadn’t expected was for everyone to automatically know who you were, greeting you excitedly. You thought at most one, maybe two people would vaguely know who you were, but you didn’t expect all of your friends to recognize you and know pretty much everything about you. Including things you were pretty sure you hadn’t told Kate when you would catch up.

But that’s exactly what happened, all of her teammates knew who you were, Jada, Gabbie, and Caitlin, even people she barely knew. Never in a million years did you think that she could possibly talk about you that much. You didn’t think there could possibly be that much for someone to talk about regarding you, let alone that anyone would want to, especially after 6 years of limited communication. Yet it warmed your heart, it made you happier than you had been in a long time, to know that she talked about you, that she cared about you enough to talk about you that much. Jada went as far as to say,

“We finally get to meet you after her nonstop talking about you for I don’t even know how long. We were starting to think Kate made you up,” before giving you a hug in greeting. You could tell from that alone that she was an absolute sweetheart.

new crush, high school love again

By the time you had been able to talk to Kate for any substantial amount of time, it was clear that you both had a few drinks. Neither one of you could help yourselves from embracing each other in a long overdue hug, slightly rocking as she lightly rubbed your back. You couldn’t help but feel like you belong there. You had always felt like you belonged when you were with Kate, fitting together like two puzzle pieces. Like you had wasted time not being there. You never wanted to leave her side again. You didn’t think you could stand it. At that moment, hugging each other again for the first time in you don’t know how long, you both felt like you were in high school again. You knew she still gave you butterflies, but in that moment you could have sworn you fell in love with her all over again.

“I’m so proud of you, I knew you could do it,” you whisper while pulling away from the all-too-long hug. Looking up at her, you were filled with an all-new type of butterfly, a bird maybe. Filled with a sense of joy knowing she was happy to see you, and a sense of contentment knowing that you were going to be in the same city again, for the first time in years. Knowing that you know each other, without really knowing each other. In a sense you know each other, you kept each other updated on the big things, relationships you were in when you talked, basic interests, but you didn’t know what really mattered. You didn’t know the little things, the day-to-day, the highs and the lows, and you missed that. You missed knowing the one thing that made her day unbearable, or the one thing that got her through the day. It was always you, to this day. But she wasn’t willing to tell you that yet. She loved you, and you her, and you both knew that, but you only knew that past tense.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she says into your ear sending a shiver down your spine. You had officially fallen even more in love with her than the last time you saw each other, and you barely talked yet. And just like no time had passed, able to see the change in your demeanor, she grabbed you by the hips before looking into your eyes.

“I’m serious y’know? I really wouldn’t be here without you. You made it all worth it,” she pauses, eyes briefly scanning the room. “Every time I felt like I couldn’t do it, you made sure to tell me that I could. You made it clear that you believed in me, but you weren’t ever gonna push me into something I didn’t want. Even when you weren’t there I still thought of you. Thought of what you would say, how you would make everything better. You got me here baby,” she finishes off. Her eyes found their way back to yours while she talked, the intensity of her gaze alone could melt you.

“Even though I wasn’t there I never missed a game. I watched every single one, even if it was just a recording. I'm still your #1 fan, and I can promise to never miss a game of yours in the WNBA now either. I’ll even be at all the home games,” you smile up at her looking to see if she caught onto your words. You can see her trying to figure out what you meant, her eyebrows scrunching up in confusion as she was thinking before a smile eventually broke out on her face.

“What? Are you moving to Vegas?” she asks, her volume growing with each word. She grabbed you by the shoulders before lightly shaking you in disbelief. As if trying to figure out whether or not this was really happening.

“Yeah, I got a job there and I’m moving at the beginning of May,” you say laughing at her clear excitement. To her it felt like she was about to burst, this is what you had been waiting for, this was a sign. It wasn’t planned and neither one of you had any idea it was going to happen, but you were going to be together again.

the rush of slumber party kissing

“I can’t believe it! Are you joking?” she asks looking down at you for any hint of a lie coming from you, but she found none, so she continued. “Like we’re actually going to live in the same city? This is amazing, I can’t believe it.” and then it slips out, she doesn’t mean to say it, but she does, “We could try. Like we could actually be together, for real-” By the time she realizes what she said she was looking at the floor and couldn’t bear to try and meet your gaze. After all, she basically just confessed that she was still in love with you after 6 years of barely seeing or talking to each other.

“Really? You’d want that?” you ask her, grabbing her face and lifting it to meet your eyes. You couldn’t believe she wanted you, after all this time she still wanted you. So you did something Kate never in a million years thought you would’ve done, you kissed her. She wasn’t sure where your confidence had come from whether it had been her basically admitting that she never moved on from you, or the drinks you had, or just simply you growing up and actually being more confident. But she couldn’t think about that now. Now she had you in her arms, for the first time in years. She had you in a way she thought she had missed out on because she waited. And in that moment she knew she wasn’t going to let you go ever again.

[mamayan]

Psp psp 👀 genya thirsts please? 🤲

Nonnie I’m literally full of them of course— I personally see Genya as a switch so we’ll be playing around with that here (even though I adore him as a submissive too).

Genya Shinazugawa Thirsts ★彡

cw: NSFW • Fluff • Genya HC • A lil angst • GN! Reader • Praise Kink • Suggestive Themes • Oral mentioned • Switch! Genya (not really Dom, more pleasure top at best tbh) • Slightly Top!/Switch! Reader

Genya isn’t shy in the traditional sense. He’s not afraid of being the one to confess his love first, or even being rejected.

Problem is, he expects to be rejected. He’s understanding of it even. His own perception of self worth revolves around his ability to be useful, and while he’s proud to call himself a Demon Slayer, he finds himself lacking as a man a lot of the time.

He looks up to Sanemi and adores him a great deal, but doesn’t use him as a role model for love and expressing it. Instead he looks at Gyomei, a gentle and pious man who gives advice like “write a love poem from the depths of your heart.”

So when Genya confesses and he’s not rejected? He’s the sort to follow advice given to the letter, which makes for comically awkward and tender approaches.

Genya will present you with flowers, carefully arranged, but he knows nothing of flowers, so you’ll be sneezing immediately. They’re super pollen filled and smell obnoxious, but your heart will be full from the thought and effort alone. He apologizes profusely. Then will come the love letters, but as a Shinazugawa, the words of love will boarder on threats. “My heart burns when I see you, so much love fills me that I feel it may be the end for me in your presence.” You’ll wonder if he’s joking or has a heart condition. He knows he’s got a mean and scary looking face, many have told him so, and to remedy that… he will even wear makeup to make himself look less scary! (This may have been pointed out by Inosuke, his heart in the right place but the end results more for humor than anything). It’s too late by the time Tanjiro comes to rescue his friend, you’re in tears laughing at the clown his friends turned him into. It works on making him less scary to you though—

He’ll relax eventually, but he’s stiff and terrified of making even the smallest mistake… and the end result of that is making tons of mistakes. Once he realizes he can truly be himself, he’s the sweetest most devoted man you could ask for. He’s less prickly than his older brother, more ready to fall head first into the love jar with you. He’s a sap, truly seeing you as an angel who can do no wrong.

When it comes to being physical, he loves pda. Except, he likes it most when you show it. He’s constantly being rejected publicly or privately by his dearest elder brother, so when you show claim over him? It makes him ecstatic! Throw an arm around his waist, hold his hand, hug him, kiss him even. Show the world he belongs to you. It makes him melt into a puddle. He’ll even get a little smug if you do it in front of his friends, smirking even as his face goes molten red. He’ll pass away if you sit on his lap though, be careful of his weak heart. Tough exterior doesn’t translate to inside unfortunately.

Genya is a gentleman despite his rough appearance, he’s waiting on you to make all the first moves. He’s asking permission and consent constantly thereafter, and he’s very keen on your body language. You’ll have to ignore his body language when he tells you to, because despite his wishes he tenses up and freezes sometimes when he gets embarrassed. It takes a little for him to relax after that happens, just keep kissing him please, he’ll beg if he has to.

That’s how it’s like with deeper intimacy too, Genya becomes whiny and shy, stuttering and a bit foolish. He’s just desperate for you, make no mistake about it. He’s got good control though, holding still when you tell him, being very good for you. Use him for your pleasure, he really does insist. Genya’s favorite positions are any he can see you in, more specifically when you ride him.

He derives pleasure from you being pleased, so with oral he prefers to give rather than receive. Not that he doesn’t like receiving, your mouth on his cock leaves him a drooling mess, but Genya can find his end just by giving you head. Hearing you moan and cry for him makes him delirious with happiness, so use his Mohawk like a handle and hold on tight.

While Genya is giver, he does have a few triggers which set off a more dominant side of him. He can’t help himself honestly… usually it’s jealously. If someone else is flirting with you it riles him up. He gets more brash and mean, not towards you of course, but he does try and fight them quite readily. It leaves him insecure after too, afraid you’ll see his flaws and weakness and leave him.

So when you don’t, and when you comfort him, he just needs you.

Whining into your mouth how much he loves you, all while his hips pound you into the bed and you cum again. He’s fucking you stupid and not even on purpose, he’s just overcome with emotion he needs to let out, and what better way than to make love to you? Even if that love making turns into a sloppy fucking with your cute face pressed down and hips yanked high so he can kiss you inside a little deeper. He’s crying your name while he fills you up, and he really can’t help how his cock stays hard even after, thrusting again inside you soon after while you mewl and try to crawl away from all the pleasure and overstimulation.

He’s yanking you easily back onto his cock, head thrown back as he mindlessly babbles praises for you. “Ah fuck—so good on my cock, make me feel so fuckin’ good—l-love you, I love you—!” You’re too fucked out to do much else but cum for him, eyes watery and helpless as he shows you how much he loves you. Enjoy the stamina of Genya Shinazugawa, he’s got endless energy. He’ll fuck you till he’s shooting blanks.

He’s so sweet after too, kissing and holding you, profusely apologizing of course because you passed out eventually, and thanking you too for making him feel so good. He’s running around heating up a bath, bringing you sweets or whatever you crave. He goes right back to your sweet ‘Nya once he’s secure in his heart again.

Feel free to take revenge after too. He won’t admit it until he’s denied his fourth or fifth orgasm, but he adores when you take charge and top him. Play away to your heart’s desire, Genya is able to take all you give him, like the good boy he is. Panting like a dog after you curb his orgasm again, his body tied up and spread for you to do whatever you please. He’ll cry, sob even, for release. Begging his master for mercy, while you coo and tease him. “Poor puppy, what’s wrong hm? I thought you loved everything I do.” You have him there, because he’ll admit his deepest secrets like this. “I-I do! I love it! T-tease me more, please, master, m-make a mess of me,” he’s adorable like this, obedient and cute all for you. He’ll probably want to die a little if you just leave him like that too, but he’s so cute, you’ll find it hard to just walk away— unless it’s a punishment of course.

Genya is open to most any kink you might have… as long as it doesn’t hurt you. He’s fine if the pain is directed at him, he can take it after all, but he won’t do any breath play, no tight bondage, no whips or chains for you unless you’re the one wielding them, and of course no sharing you. Genya would rather tear someone’s eyes out and light them on fire than let them even see you naked. It makes him feral and enraged immediately. However, the thought of being seen with you doing something to him, makes him wildly aroused.

Genya would never bring it up in a regular conversation, but he’s got a small exhibition kink. If he were the one to been seen tied up and naked with you playing with him? He may just cum immediately. It ties into you claiming him too, showing how much he is to you, who he belongs to.

Genya also has a praise kink. It works both ways too, he wants to be praised and praise you too. “Such a good boy Genya, my sweet love, filling me up so good,” his eyes are rolling back, hips stuttering as he begs to cum. “Y-you feel so good—fuck, tight—wanna be inside you forever, feel you wrapped a-around my cock like this till I die—!” He’s losing control when you cum.

Overall Genya is a top tier lover and golden find. He’s loyal, devoted, and filled with adoration to shower on you.

Dividers/@cafekitsune