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wileys-russo · 5 months

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ooo, how about a bf alexia fic or blurb where they go out to celebrate a win and reader's just making small talk with a stranger while alexia's off somewhere else and then alexia just shows up at your side and quietly asserts that she's there and your hers. and after the stranger leaves, she gets all touchy and pouty because she just wants the readers attention

sixth sense II a.putellas

you smiled seeing alexia being pulled away to dance by jenni and laia very much so against her will, watching her head of pink hair dissapear into the crowd as you excused yourself from your conversation with alba and a few of the other girls to get another drink.

the small bar in sydney was packed out, spaniards, catalans and australians all dancing and cheering and celebrating spains world cup victory just two days prior.

it was the final night before the team flew back to spain for their welcome home ceremony and after a big group dinner with family and friends the majority of the team had moved on, eager to spend the final night they could celebrating in the foreign country.

you waited patiently for your turn, the poor barkeepers run off their feet by the very busy night, drumming your fingers against the wooden top of the bar, somewhat lost in your own world.

"so, family or friend?" you looked up hearing someone speak near you, meeting the amused eyes of a tall dark haired woman with a thick australian accent. "sorry?" you questioned with a surprised frown, unsure if you'd heard her correctly.

"you don't strike me as a footballer, you're not from around here because i'd have remembered your face and half of spain is in here right now. so, family or friend of the team?" the woman grinned, making a gesture toward the bartender who nodded and held up two fingers.

"are all australians so forward?" you laughed, a little taken aback by the womans reading of you. "only those who run and own bars." the woman grinned, the bartender dropping two drinks beside you as she grabbed one, holding it up and motioning you do the same.

"you own this?" you asked with wide eyes as she shrugged. "co-own if you ask the right person. like i said, i don't forget a face and i haven't seen most of them in here tonight before!" the woman grinned, again motioning you to pick up the drink beside you.

"to australia losing their home world cup and spain winning their first!" she cheered making you laugh again, clinking your glass against hers, not even entirely sure what you were about to drink but a little too tipsy already to think much of it.

alexia's friends would often tease she had a sixth sense and that it centered entirely around you, like a spidey sense but reserved for her girlfriend.

cold? she was offering you her jacket before you'd even shivered once. hungry? she'd already ordered extra food despite you saying you didn't want anything. stressed? your favourite movie was loaded and her arms were open and ready for you to take refuge in them.

which is why a strange sense settled over her on the dancefloor and alexia looked around, suddenly realising she couldn't see you anywhere as her brows furrowed. she ignored the teasing remarks from her team mates as she broke free from the pack of dancing bodies, her sister pointing her toward the bar where you'd wandered off to get a new drink.

alexia's jaw clenched as her eyes finally sought you out, laughing and speaking with a stranger who was a little too close to you for the spanish captains comfort.

you broke your attention away from your conversation feeling something settle around your neck, glancing down you saw your girlfriends world cup medal dangling by your chest.

her arm was next, toned and tanned it wrapped around your neck from behind and settled across your collar bones pulling your body into hers as she leaned across the bar, waving over the bartender and ordering a drink.

"hola mi vida." she murmured, kissing your cheek and trying to wave the bartender back over to pay, each subtle touch of hers screaming that you were taken.

her possesive nature was not lost on you or your new friend it seemed who smiled in amusement at the tall womans refusal to even acknowledge her, seeming as if she was unbothered though her body language said the complete opposite.

"not quite family and more than a friend then. enjoy the rest of your trip, on me!" the woman whose name you never even got smiled kindly, clinking her drink against alexia's who finally looked up and over toward her, too late now as the blonde melted away into the crowd.

"who was that?" your girlfriend asked with a frown, hold on you tightening as you managed to turn around and face her. "i never caught her name, she owns this though." you gestured around you as alexia hummed, sipping on her drink.

"you left me alone on the dance floor hermosa." the midfielder pouted making you smile. "you had plenty of people to dance with ale." you laughed, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"none of them are you though." she smiled charmingly as you sipped your drink with a small shake of your head. "you know she was just a stranger, si? i didn't even get her name, i did not want to." you assured, gently squeezing her bicep still seeing a far off look in her eyes you knew too well.

"she was a little too close to you mi amor. just because you did not want her name did not mean she did not want yours." alexia warned, pout yet again forming on her lips as a slight veil of jealously clouded her features.

"i think you made it very well known i was taken bonita." you smiled, toying with the medal around your neck as alexia shrugged innocently.

"it was just heavy princesa, it was your turn to wear it." the pink haired woman dismissed with a flirty grin as you playfully shoved her shoulder and she guided you back to the group, hand securely on the small of your back.

cheers greeted the two of you as you returned, alexia's attention immediately commanded again by her team mates who once more tried to twirl her off for a dance. but the catalan woman brushed them all off with ease, taking her seat and pulling you to sit on her lap before you could take yours.

alba's teasing not lost on your ears you smiled knowingly as your girlfriend became increasingly touchy, clearly a response to your attention being granted to someone else that evening if platonic or not.

"alexia!" you laughed as you reached for your drink, only for her hand to shoot out and grab it for you, moving it toward your mouth. "just looking after you mi corazón." she pouted, amusement clear in both of your eyes as yours rolled but you gave in, allowing her to bring the glass to your lips as the teasing remarks around you escalated.

for the rest of the night there wasn't a single moment that at least a few inches of your skin weren't touching alexia's, a moody pout or a kiss behind your ear from her all it took for you to deny someones offer to join them on the dance floor.

"ale, baby i have to pee." you chuckled as you tried to get up but she tugged you back down, arms circling your waist. "okay, i come with you." the girl decided as you stood and pushed her back down.

"i will be five minutes top mi amor. stay here with everyone!" you laughed, though of course she didn't listen, linking her hand with yours and nodding for you to walk.

"clingy." you teased as the door swung shut on the two of you. "do you want to hold my hand while i use the toilet too?" you mocked, your girlfriend shaking her head and dropping your hand, shooing for you to hurry up.

but before you could even step into the cubicle suddenly she'd grabbed you again, pulling you into a feverish kiss sending your head spinning before she was pushing you back toward the toilet with a happy grin on her face.

"hurry princessa, my hand is getting heavy and i need you to hold it."

#alexia putellas x reader #woso fanfics #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas #woso blurbs

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manicpixiefelix · 2 months

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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 18.

Summary: Love as seen in the stars, in the flowers that bloom, in your best friend's eyes, and in the taste of him on Oliver's tongue as you catch him in the bathtub. Summer continues at Saltburn.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT; vouyerism, dom!reader, handjob, bathwater as lube, cumming almost untouched, pervert/enabler dynamics. I cannot stress to you enough that both the reader and Oliver are COMPLETE AND UTTER FREAKS ABOUT FELIX in the bathtub scene.

A/N: 6670 words. this chapter is very special to me for a lot of reasons, but mainly because there have been several scenes that i've been writing for a while now that have all found their forever home in this chapter. if you have any feedback or thoughts about this chapter or the story so far, i'd always love to hear them! also something something bath water something ;o)

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

Things were easier to navigate now that you understood Oliver. Or at least you thought you understood. Less fucking around with Farleigh and Venetia in Oliver's peripheries; when you put yourself on display, it was as an extension of Felix. If Felix had noticed the change, he hadn't commented on it. Considering how much effort you put in making him feel good and moan like a whore for Oliver's benefit, he probably appreciated it.

Things with Oliver himself were getting better by the day too, it seemed. More and more he was reaching out for you again. Sitting too close, sharing your space, seeking you out when his time wasn't filled with Felix. There's less tension too, on the nights you share in the lilac study. Oliver's been through the book you'd given him on the Estate, and has moved on to picking out books he'd found on your bookshelf, it seemed. You, having quickly identified the flower he'd mentioned as the honeysuckle, native to Australia, had also moved on to books from your Summer reading list for your upcoming year at Oxford. As the first week of Summer is coming to an end, it seems as though Oliver had finally settled in at Saltburn.

"Do you miss your room?" Oliver asks one evening. Without even looking up from your own book, you give a fond laugh, shaking your head.

"It was more just a formality half the time," you tell him with an easy smile, "a place to keep my stuff." Looking at him beside you on the sofa, you see he understands the implications, the holidays you and the others have reminisced about, the trysts masquerading as something much more innocent that you would share with them all when you were at the Estate. There's nothing judgemental in his eyes, there never was when it came to Oliver, "why?"

"It all just feels very much like you in there," he offers, gaze wandering as he speaks, "Felix's room feels very You-And-Felix, and I get bits of him in your room too, but it feels much more you." You're actually rather surprised by how well you understand what he means, "like up on your roof you've got these little stars. They glow. I didn't notice them the first few nights."

Your smile widens, all bright and warm, and you close your book.

"Do you want to have a sleepover, Ollie?" You ask with a childish kind of glee. The offer seems to take Oliver by surprise, but you lean forwards, "like an actual sleepover, like we're kids again."

"You still do just sleepovers?" Seems to escape Oliver without him quite meaning it to, and for a moment your expression does falter a little.

"Yeah," you can't help but feel a little self conscious, "promise I'm not trying to seduce your or anything," then, shifting your legs from him you shuffle back to sit cross-legged on the sofa, "we actually do them kind of a lot, or, well, I do. I think Farleigh and Ven have a few and I know when they get tipsy Ven and Fi have had a few. Sometimes after events when we were teenagers we'd all head back to one of our rooms and end up all passed in the same bed trying to fit in like sardines, all four of us."

"That's very cute," Oliver says softly after a long moment of silence, and when you finally meet his gaze again, he's smiling.

"Yeah," you grin once more, "we were."

Which is how you ended up back in Oliver's room, back in your old bed, looking up at the canvas that made up your ceiling, stretched across the full length of the room, rigged and taught, littered with a constellation of glowing stars. Oliver, laying still beside you, asks about it, and you have to explain that there was no way in hell you would ever be allowed to mark the actual roof of any room in the Saltburn Estate. Which he realises makes a lot of sense once you say it out loud.

"But you should see Felix's ceiling, it's much more impressive," you tell him softly, not even aware how your smile was coming through even in your words. Oliver, bedside you, was simply quiet as he gazed at the glowing dots, "haven't you ever looked up at the ceiling in Fi's room?"

"Not properly," Oliver admitted quietly, and the silence lapses out between you both for several contented seconds, "did you two do this?"

"I did," you said proudly, "and this is just from what I had left over."

"What do you mean?"

"About this time, uh," you considered for a long while, trying to remember the full context of the stars that littered both yours and Felix's ceilings, "seven years ago I think, Felix pretended to have gotten really into astronomy as an excuse to always be out of bed, out on his balcony at night."

"But... he wasn't really?" Oliver's head shifted on his pillow to look at you and your amused smile. You shook your head.

"He picked up smoking from Venetia, she was bribing him with cigarettes to hide both her own habit and the fact that she gave it to him."

Oliver shifts beside you on the bed, no longer content with looking at the stars you'd placed there, interested, it seemed, only in watching you.

"How old was Felix?" He's looking at you, clearly listening and invested, but he seems distracted by something.

"Fourteen," you sighed, "Ven was fifteen, which really isn't much better -"

"And how old were you when you picked the habit up from Felix?" Oliver asks with the faintest, knowing quirk of his lips. Embarrassed about how well he seemed to know you, your whole face scrunched up momentarily, "fourteen?" Oliver teased when you refused to answer, grin widening as you squeezed your eyes shut. Still, he went on, "so when you say Felix pretended to get into astrology seven years ago to hide his smoking habit, you mean you and Felix pretended to get into astrology seven years ago?" And this is when you feel Oliver's gentle fingertips touch your flustered face. His fingertips beginning to glide so gracefully along your features, as you relaxed into a simple, embarrassed smile.

You really weren't trying to do anything untoward with him tonight, you weren't lying about that. Still, you wouldn't rebuff any kind of gentle affection he had to offer.

"Well, yeah," you admitted, and Oliver makes a noise for you to continue as he seemed to be wanting to map each delicate feature on your face through touch alone, "but Fi ended up really getting into it. Went through this whole big astronomy phase that year - I say that year; he still really into it - but back then, it was..." you closed your eyes, letting yourself be immersed in the memory of how excited Felix had been. Felix was always a beautiful sight to behold when he was passionate.

"Little Felix," Oliver mused fondly, "bet he was desperate to be an astronaut." Oliver touches you like you're porcelain, so delicate and precious, his fingertips skimming your cheeks and brushing your eyelashes.

"Actually," you laughed a little, though not unkindly, at the memory. Opening your eyes, you turn just enough to be looking at Oliver, to catch the adoring look in his eyes as his hand stilled, now simply holding your cheek, "he wanted to be the guy who got to give speeches about the stars and planets and the universe every day at the planetarium," you recounted, "and become a Doctor of Astronomy so he could make the videos they play in the room with the domed roof that you get to lay back and watch in the dark," you grinned, "but also then he could still be the guy who gave the speeches, but he'd get to answer questions about his own movie about the universe as well." After a moment of silence, Oliver smiles so widely and genuinely; you know he can see it so clearly, "he'd be so good at it, wouldn't he?"

"He'd be cute," Oliver agreed softly, fondly.

"So for his fifteenth birthday, I spent weeks designing and figuring out how to rig this piece of canvas across his whole roof, since I couldn't paint or mark his ceiling, what with this being a heritage building," you explained, proud little smile on your face, "and I asked my nan about all these paints and fancy pigments and stuff that would last and would glow in the dark, because nan's a painter and she's always had this gift with like, making her paintings look like they glow," you turned to Oliver, expression so adoring, "but Fi turned fifteen while we were at boarding school, so the very next break we had, I convinced him to spend the first week visiting Farleigh and his aunt in America, while I was back here, spending night and day on this. I had the whole canvas stained navy, and nan even stayed here for a few days to help me with painting it all perfectly and making sure all my paints would do exactly what I wanted them to, and we painted this canvas-ceiling I'd set up for him to look like his favourite starscape at the London Planetarium." Giving a loud, contented sigh, you added almost as an afterthought, "there's probably a bunch of the print outs of references I used somewhere in the study; the Planetarium people were so lovely."

"Is that why Felix is doing a physics degree?" Oliver practically gasped like it was a revelation; right, you forgot Felix rarely bothered to explain anything about his academics to anyone. When you confirmed as much, Oliver seems somehow more shocked, "I never got the impression that he thought much of uni." It's... not an incorrect observation to have made about at least half of Felix's academic career.

"He gets weird about it, about talking about it and stuff, thinks he sounds like a nerd," you agree after a moment, with a fond laugh, "he's got this weird mind for physics and anything really related to space and stars and astronomy, but he'd rather complain about the electives that he takes despite knowing he'll hate them."

"Then why does he take them?"

"A lot of them are actually my core subjects," finally you admit, a little abashed, "he knows I'm not as fond of my course as he is of his, so he takes them out of solidarity and complains the whole time." You're pretty sure Oliver can hear the sickeningly sweet undercurrent of I love him, I love him, I love him in your tone, but you can't help it. Neither of you have much more to say on the matter, but you think you know what Oliver's thinking. Something about favouritism, about best friends, about how he's pretty sure that Felix Catton wouldn't do that for anyone else.

And he'd be right.

"Hey Ollie?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I move closer?"

"'course," his voice is warm and soft and before you even move he's coaxing you closer to him, arm around you, letting you rest your head on his chest.

"Thanks for letting me sleep over," you yawned, but the affection in your voice was sincere. A chuckle rumbles through Oliver's chest, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"Thank you for suggesting it."

Oliver's warmth is familiar and foreign all at once. How is it that you could have missed someone so much despite only having spent one night beside him.

However the following morning, over breakfast, Elspeth gives you a reminder about an upcoming event that you'd been trying desperately not to think about.

"Y/N, darling, I just thought I'd remind you about the Arts Collective dinner we'll be hosting in a few days," her voice is carefully neutral as she brings it up. You freeze, "Duncan needs to finalise the numbers today so the kitchen can start figuring out what we need to order. We'll be gathering in the fairy garden for drinks and canapes beforehand." What she's really trying to ask is if you'll be in attendance considering your mother's name is on the guest list. Before you can properly answer, however, she turns to Farleigh and asks if he's still intending on joining the garden portion of the gathering.

"As usual, I will I'll indeed be showing my face for wine and cheese," he says, though his smile is tight, "at my mother's behest."

"I'll be taking dinner in my study that night," you force a smile at Elspeth, and she gives you the same kind of look that was so often directed towards Pamela. Pity. Sympathy. You poor, dear, thing, I understand. In a moment, however, she brightens once more and asks if Oliver would like to join the pre-dinner gathering, or if he'd simply like to attend dinner, dismissively assuming that both of her own children would be forgoing the garden themselves - she'd be right.

You can feel Felix looking at you as you return your focus to your breakfast, but you remain uncharacteristically stoic for the rest of the meal. As your plate is taken away, you try to shake your negativity, looking up and around as you ask if any of the others have plans for the day. Swimming, reading, lounging around; leisure, as always. But you feel as though you'll get lost in your own head if you don't do something with yourself today.

So instead, you find something suitable to garden in, and spend a good deal of the day in your garden, uprooting all of the purple pincushions in preparation. It's satisfying to be working with your hands, satisfying to be ripping the flowerless stalks up by the roots and disposing of them in a bucket to later be composted. You'd brought your iPod and little speaker and make a day of it in the garden, waiving the staff off who offer to help, only asking them what the garden needed that day.

You till the soil you'd just disturbed, mixing fertiliser in in preparation for the plants due to be arriving in a day or two, and water the rest of the plants in both rings. You take great care, admiring each flower in bloom, and even the more utilitarian ivy that curled across the latticed archway of an entrance.

Some of the staff members bring you food and water throughout the day, and for each one that does, you invite them to stop and sit and talk for any time they had spare. All seem surprised by the invite, and even moreso when you seem to know them by name, and how eager you are to ask them about themselves. They also all seem grateful to get off their feet for a few minutes.

Duncan sits very awkwardly opposite you at the picnic table. He does not touch the food he has brought you, even as you push it to the middle of the table, as an offering. Duncan does not ask questions. Duncan has never much liked speaking unless spoken to. But still, you know he's more than willing to refuse a request for company such as the one you'd made, so you take the kindness for what it is. He watches you down the bottle of water he'd also brought like your life depended on it.

"How long has it been since you last applied any sunscreen?" He does finally broach the surprisingly comfortable silence. He'd provided you with a tube of the stuff as you'd announced your intentions to spend the day gardening, and now it sat at the other end of the picnic table with the gardening tools. You promise to reapply after you'd finished your lunch, but smile at him warmly. He gives one of his awkward smiles back, and asks if you need a hat, which you decline.

"Your mother has confirmed that she will be in attendance with the Arts' Collective," he says, and you go still, "what would you like to be brought for dinner that evening?" The confirmation stings, but you know this is Duncan's way of showing he cares about you. You get to pick your own dinner, unlike most other nights, and he won't subject you to the cruel anticipation of wondering just whether your mother really would or would not be in the same house as you.

Trying your best to smile, you let him know that you'll think about it, and get back to him tonight. With a faint nod, Duncan stands smoothly, and leaves the garden once more. He'd always been good to you, in his own way.

By mid-afternoon, you've done all you can, and head back to the house to soak, and perhaps even have a sulk about the upcoming event, in the tub until you had to get ready for dinner.

Except Felix doesn't even knock before he bursts into the bathroom, already in his suit with a bottle of champagne in his hand. He's practically radiating joy as he informs you that he and the others had managed to get their hands on several bottles of champagne and are going to hit the tennis courts before dinner.

Black tie tennis and getting absolutely shitfaced sounded great right about now. You were already feeling pretty recovered from the day seeing as you'd spent over an hour in the bath already, so much to Felix's delight, you agree to join them with a delighted grin. From somewhere behind him, Venetia also orders you to wear something flashy.

"If you're in a black suit too I swear I'm going to scream!"

Which is how you end up in your bright red suit pants with the red, silk paisley embroidery, and matching suit vest, buttoned up, with nothing beneath it. It's also the kind of thing you can move in, throw yourself around in, which is perfect for how the five of you play tennis.

Champagne bottle in one hand, tennis racket in the other, the sunset paints you all a joyful gold. Swapping in and out on all sides to play even games, you find yourself forgetting everything that had been weighting you down, instead drowning in your friends laughter. So often your gaze is caught by Oliver and Felix, cheering, drinking, playing. Love swells in your chest at the sight.

You all share giggles over dinner, and while Elspeth and James and Pamela can all clearly tell that you're all already drunk, the way the five of you are all grinning softens their exasperation.

After, not wanting this rather fantastic evening to end, you end up on one of the many balconies or patios, you're not sure which, sharing a sofa and several cigarettes, and the last of a bottle of champagne with Felix. He's got his head in your lap, pointing out constellations, but all you can see is him, the stars shining in his eyes and wide, excited smile he always got when he was rambling about something he was passionate about. Good how you loved his passion; you wished Oliver were here to see him like this. Of course Oliver loves him, and of course he's desperate for Felix to love him back; to be loved by Felix was -

"You're thinking about Ollie, aren't you?" Felix's voice breaks through your thoughts, and you can see he's grinning up at you, nothing but affection in his eyes.

"I'm thinking about you," you corrected, carding your fingers through his hair.

"You're always thinking about me," he says it so easily, so dismissively, throwing the idea away despite how vain it would sound if it weren't rather true, still he takes on a teasing tone, "you get this look about you when you think about Ollie," he reaches up and pokes your cheek.

"He loves you," you give a contented sigh after a moment, expression turning soft, of course he does, how could he not? But that's also kind of a given.

"And you," Felix's jabbing finger turns to a gentle hand holding your face, "that's why we're being absolute sluts, isn't it? Trying to get him to make a move?" And you laugh, loud and bright, in agreement. But then, after a moment, there's a change in Felix, something in his eyes. It's not jealousy, but it's more serious than before.

"Fi?" Your voice is soft, and he smiles at you, overwhelmingly adoring.

"I've been getting to watch you fall in love," he said gently, incredulously, "how weird is that?" Something tightens in your chest.

"Again," you correct. Felix gives you a vaguely confused look, but you can't help but shake your head at your beautiful fool of a best friend, "you get to see me fall in love again, Felix." You roll your eyes, but as he's hit with the implications of your words hit him, a beautiful flush works its way up his cheeks. He actually has to cover his face with his hands, embarrassment and joy lighting up his expression.

"You're so sappy," he crows, "you are so fucking sappy!" You practically cackle with glee draping yourself over him, onto his chest, the two of you awkwardly wrapped up in each other on this little sofa. As your laughter dies down, you give a faint hum.

"But he's not your competition, for the record, he never really was -"

"I'm not jealous! I've told you that!" Felix insists, "I thought I made that clear!"

"You have, Fi," you laughed, "but what I'm saying is... well, he knows I love you both, and he loves me, but he's not -" ever going to love me the way he loves you, God, you can't say that. It takes the last bit of self restraint you have to bite that back, shifting to get a little more comfortable, you reach out and stroke Felix's hair.

"Fi, I have spent months watching him fall so in love with you, the way I often hope, or," you laughed a little self conciously, "feared, the rest of the world would," and slowly Felix uncovers his face, those big, brown eyes of his full of all kinds of hope and affection, "he was never your competition, Fi, he's mine," you joked.

"Oh," the flush on his cheeks only grows steadily darker, and the faint exclamation comes out as more of a breathless gasp, "Ollie's your competition for..." He grins sheepishly, like he just wants to hear you say it.

"You, Fi," you tell him with an affectionate grin, but for it up with a nonchalant shrug and teasing smirk, "though competition implies that either of us would make you choose."

You would never let him know the full truth. You'd let him believe wholeheartedly that while you both loved Oliver, he reciprocated that wholeheartedly. Which was... mostly true. True enough that it kept Felix happy and you happy enough.

Yes, Oliver loves Felix, and therefore loves you by extension. Only you knew how sharp that distinction really was.

But you realised Felix was right; he was watching you fall in love with Oliver, and you too had been watching him fall for the boy as well, even if it did seem to be a slower process than it had been with you. You reasoned that Felix had far more reason to be cautious with his heart, especially with men. The first and last boy you'd seen him fall in love with broke his fucking heart at Saltburn, you knew part of him was terrified for history to repeat itself. But clearly he couldn't stop himself from falling in the end.

It was a waiting game now, either Oliver makes a real move and proves his love and loyalty to Felix, or Felix makes a real move and proves to Oliver that his affections are entirely, overwhelmingly genuine. So you'd be the proxy when you had to be, something a little safer for them both while they built up the courage.

Though you're not above stressing this tension that's building between them. The bend before the break, how far it would go before it snaps and you can all stop dancing around this thing that you all clearly want.

And an opportunity arises in the days that follow.

Saltburn creaks it's own kind of melody, it always has. You've become used it, learned the ebb and flow of the house and it's noises, the way it settles itself as it cools from the Summer afternoon heat. You know which door is shutting in the rooms adjacent to yours and Felix's just by the sound of the latches alone, and you know all too well which floorboards squeak along the halls you frequent.

On Felix's balcony, winding down for the day with a book as he takes a bath before bed, you don't hear the creak of the little hall between Oliver's room and the bathroom. The blinds are drawn over the bathroom window, but you catch a faint bit of movement in the mostly dark hall and give pause in your reading.

You could barely make out the arch of a shoulder through the break in the blinds, but you could tell that beautiful, bathing Felix had himself a captive audience. Part of you wondered if it was by chance or by choice, if Oliver was watching or simply listening, and if Felix knew either way. He'd have to; there's no way Oliver was adept enough at moving through Saltburn silently that Felix hadn't heard that awful floorboard that creaked right before the bathroom door.

Oh there was purpose to this, you were sure. Felix knew the feeling of Oliver's gaze upon him, the want he so callously toyed with, seeing it in Oliver's eyes all too often. All the world's a stage for Felix Catton, you just wonder what kind of reaction he's trying to pull from tonight's audience. Settling back in with your book, all you can do is wait.

When you hear the water start to drain from the tub, you still take your time, give them both time for anything to occur, before you feel a sense of disappointment or defeat in your heart.

"Can I come in and brush my teeth yet?" You knock loudly at his door and hear Felix laugh on the other side.

"Since when do you knock?" Wrapped in his robe and sitting on the edge of the bathtub, Felix is drying his hair with his towel as you come in. Before you can answer, he follows it up with, "since when did you care if I was in the bath for that sort of thing?"

"It's called respecting your privacy, Fi," you tell him, swanning past him to get to your toothbrush. You do give pause, however, stopping in front of him, and he lowers the towel, as if in anticipation. For a moment you lift his chin, loving the way he grins in almost sappy anticipation, and you give him a quick peck on the lips before you're moving on again and he's back to getting the water from around the edges of his face and ears.

Oliver, who'd watched the whole exchange after slinking into the bathroom from the opposite door, looks quickly at himself in the mirror as you join him in collecting your toothbrush.

"Do you want me to start respecting your privacy?" There's half a joke in Felix's voice, since it's a strange sentiment for you both, especially at Saltburn. Oliver's gaze flicks to you, then to Felix in the mirror.

"If I needed privacy I know you'd respect it," toothpaste on your brush, you leave Oliver's side of the bathroom to join Felix, the two of you having devolved from a real conversation, into some kind of silly, mock-conversations entirely consisting of eyebrow movements, and trying not to choke on your laughter as you brushed your teeth.

Oliver was watching, of course, Oliver was always watching, but you kept noticing the way he'd glance at the bathtub as it continued to drain between the three of you, stealing focus. There was tension in his shoulders, in his gaze, in the way he held himself. Never turning away from the sink - you'd bet he was hard. Oblivious Felix - at least that's how he appeared - was doing nothing but the most mundane bathroom task, which still wasn't able to help Oliver's current state with the way he was glowing, content and beautiful in the steamy bathroom, hair still slick and curling and clinging to his beautiful face.

You watch Oliver swallow hard in the mirror, but then his gaze meets yours. In this moment you don't do anything, you barely acknowledge what you saw, but you see the rapid way he starts to blink as he looks away, as if hoping he'd imagined the look in your eyes.

You finish brushing your teeth in silence after that, only stopping to wish Oliver good night after Felix does, the two of you closing your door to the bathroom.

"I'm going to finish my chapter then I'll be right with you," you tell Felix with a warm smile, picking up your book on the balcony as he yawned loud and wide. He tells you there's no rush, that he'll be out in only a few minutes. True to his word, after a long day, his deep breathing starts to take over not too long after the lights go out.

Except for the one in the bathroom. Just as you'd expected.

You turn out the lamp on the balcony, and move quietly through the darkness. Yes, you know the way Saltburn creaks and moans, know how to make yourself known, or how to slip through the shadows like you're made of them. The old house is well maintained, the hinges on doors don't creak if you move them right, you can slip into the role of observer with ease if you know how.

Behind you, you close the door almost all the way, making sure the latch sits flush with the door for privacy without it's click of proper closing giving you away.

The water is still draining from the tub, Felix's water, and Oliver there along with it. The running water echoes through the old pipes, but not loud enough to cover the lewd noises you hear from the bathtub. The slurping, the moaning, the grateful sighs of contentment to be afforded this moment of perversion.

You let him have his moment. Then you let the door click shut.

Immediately Oliver sits up, panic on his face; he looks like he wants to say something, to explain himself, say anything, but he can't seem to find the words. It's like he was expecting Felix. Or even if he was expecting you, he was expecting judgement. When you remain quiet, remain observant, you watch his panic fade to something wary.

Why? You knew exactly what he was doing, why are you just standing there, watching him? You can see the questions in his eyes, and feel your heart rate pick up. Slowly, you move towards him. Slowly, you let yourself smile.

Oliver sits back in the tub, never taking his eyes off of you, the way you stalk around the space, predator and captured prey, caught red handed. Your fingers trail the lip of the tub, graceful, threatening, until you get to him, his shoulders pressed against the porcelain. His expression is taut, defiant, ready to push back against any kind of mockery or blackmail attempts, you assume.

No, you want him to relish this moment.

You curl your fingers in his hair, leaning down by the edge of the bathtub to make sure he finally sees how pleased you are by this development. The moment he realises, you can see his thinly veiled panic turn to a conflicted kind of desire. But you don't give him another moment before you crash your lips to his, wasting no time, licking at his lips to deepen the kiss, to taste Felix on his tongue.

And you climb into the bath with him, sitting on your knees between his spread legs, mouth on his like you're desperate to devour each other. Oliver is pressed against the edge of the bath, one arm along the edge, the other braced beside him, his mind still catching up to the moment even as he gasps into your mouth.

You break the kiss, the faintest hiss from your kiss-bruised lips being all he needs as a reminder to be quiet. Everything about him has changed, has become needy, pupils so shiny and dark with lust you could lose yourself in him. Instead, you let go of his hair, taking his jaw in a forceful grip, tilting his head to the side roughly, fingernails digging into his cheek. But his eyes flutter closed, choked kind of whimper escaping him, half muffled behind your hand over him mouth as you carefully angle his head back a little further.

He'd indulged himself in Felix's bath water, pressed himself into it, tried to lose himself in it, and the remnants of those moments of extasy clung so delicately to his skin. You take your time, kissing delicate drops of Felix's water from Oliver's beautiful features like a lover, temple to cheekbones down to his jaw. When you finally relax your grip on him, his head tilts enough for him to meet your gaze. Oliver is yours, totally and completely at your mercy. Good. Once his gaze moves to your mouth, to the pleased, hungry smile you wore, he couldn't look away.

With your hand trailing down his body, teasing against his ribs and belly until your nimble fingers find their way beneath the elastic of his pyjama pants, he tries to meet you in the middle, tries to kiss you, but that's not how this game goes.

The hand you'd been using to brace yourself over him pressed against his chest, pressing him back against the porcelain, and you go with him, your cheek pressed to his, lips by his ear, his heavy breathing, desperate panting in your own. The hand on his chest finds his necklace, entangling two fingers in it until it became tight enough that you could feel the hard way he swallowed when you finally wrapped your hand around his achingly hard cock.

"Good boy," you purred into his ear as you worked your hand up and down his cock, already leaking precum into his boxers. Oliver bites down on your shoulder to muffle his moan, and you have to fight to keep your own whimper quiet. The two of you find a rhythm, panting echoing in each other's ears and Oliver's hips rocking to meet your hand each time.

When you move away, Oliver looks momentarily despairing - no, please, don't stop! - in his eyes, but you reassure him with a languid kiss as you ease his pyjama pants down enough to properly free his cock. Now, when you sit back on your heels, he watches you with a dark kind of want in his eyes. Like a cornered animal, unsure of what to expect, but full of anticipation nonetheless; he watches you reach behind yourself to the drain, to the last remnants of Felix's bathwater still clinging to the metal and porcelain. You gather as much of the liquid as you can across your fingers, palms pressing into the mostly diminished puddles.

You can see it when Oliver realises what you're doing, the way his eyes transfixed on your hand as you wrap it around him. Already slick with his own precum, your hand glides with the remnants of Felix's water. Oliver's head drops back against the edge of the tub, mouth open and desperate and gasping, his eyes closed. God he's gorgeous like this.

He coaxes you up to him this time, and you let him, press yourself to him, rocking gently along with the movements of your hand and his hips, close enough to fucking to tease you both. For all this was about Oliver, every part of you felt alive and on fire with need, and seeing him like this, getting him into this state and knowing how he looked at you, how much he wanted you in this moment, it was doing things for you. Fantastic things.

When he gets close, he wraps an arm around you, hand holding the back of your head in a far firmer grip than you'd been anticipating. But there's a thrill about it, about how he holds you so tightly, his lips by your ear as you obligingly speed up to meet the frantic pace of his hips.

"Felix~" he keens, a desperate whimper in your ear amid dizzying, gasping breathes, hot against your neck. And again, Felix's name pulled from Oliver's lips like a desperate prayer for only you to hear. Something about hearing it tips you over the edge, and you realise how close you are in this moment. All it takes is you making the faintest whine, a noise of encouragement -

"Felix, please," Oliver gasps, and your breath catches as you see stars behind your eyes. You barely feel it when Oliver sinks his teeth into your shoulder once more, his orgasm hitting mere moments after yours, cumming all over your hand and his stomach. Finally, Oliver lets you go, eyes wide as you lean back with the widest, satisfied smile. There's blood on his lips, watching you with this unreadable expression as you sit back on your heels again.

Your head's still spinning, endorphins pulsing through your blood alongside the adrenaline.

Neither of you move for a long moment, still sizing each other up it seemed, at least until you raised your hand. Oliver all over you. You won't be the one to back down; his eyes meet yours and you smile, all satisfied and wolfish as you slowly lick your fingers clean. He's transfixed again, watching the way you lap him up.

No-one's ever looked at you like that, like they're desperate for you to devour every inch of them. But the moment can't last, not outside of your memories at least.

You leave in silence, just as you'd arrived, leaving Oliver alone in the bathtub, watching you like he can't quite be sure it wasn't all a dream. You hope he dreams about this, about your blood on his tongue and Felix's name on his lips.

Except you reach for the door handle only to realise it's cracked ajar. Its closed over, door almost flush and closed, but not quite. Huh. You could have sworn... But you shrug off the thought, slipping back into your room and making sure to shut the door properly behind you.

Pyjama pants and underwear both damp for several reasons, you pull them off and quickly toss them into the laundry hamper. At this moment, you can't bring yourself to bother with anything more than a new pair of underwear before you're crawling into bed beside Felix. Who's on his side.

Huh.

Felix never sleeps on his side because it messes with his shoulders. He's also still, like he's holding his breath. When you curl an arm over him, cool hand resting on his chest, you can feel his racing heartbeat. Finally, his breath comes stuttering out. Pressing yourself up against him, you hum faintly, hand drifting lower, teasingly. You rest your hand low on his belly, between the gorgeous, defined lines of his hips, but refusing beneath his waistband. There comes a faint huff from Felix, but it's indecipherable; he's still on edge, clearly having realised that you'd connected all the dots.

When you speak it's practically a moan, voice low but sharp in his ear as you let your fingers dip lower. What a night it will be to remember, spent keeping your boys happy.

"Fi, you fucking pervert."

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #oliver quick x reader #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick smut #oliver quick x y/n #oliver quick x you #head heart hand fic #manic writer

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miasmaghoul · 6 months

Text

Kinktober Day 1 - High Sex

Wow, I can't believe it's already October 1st! I can't WAIT to see what normal things this month holds. I certainly hope Swiss doesn't go absolutely insane in Australia and destroy us all!

(Look, just be thankful I'm trying. Huge shoutout to @kroas-adtam for putting together this year's prompts!)

Green is the Warmest Color

Rating: E Pairing: Aeon/Swiss Word Count: 2.2k Contains: stoned, sappy ghouls, shotgunning, cock warming, lazy sex, banter, body worship, the boys being Real Fucked Up and absolutely loving it

-----

“You’re staring,” Swiss lilts, eyes crinkling as he brings the smoldering end of their joint to his lips.

Aeon's sure he's right, but in fairness, how couldn’t he? Swiss is a vision, sitting pretty in his lap in a wide straddle with a hand planted on Aeon’s stomach. The setting sun throws every inch of the other ghoul into such sharp relief; everything from the chips in his curved horns and the strong line of his jaw, to the breadth of his shoulders and the slight softness of his stomach. From the swollen, stiff peaks of the nipples Aeon had spent ages teasing once they’d finally fallen back into bed, to the flushed length of Swiss’ cock where it sits heavy against Aeon’s pale belly. Dribbling sticky fluid into his happy trail with the occasional languid rock of those incredible hips.

"'Course I am," he replies, loose and relaxed, "you're real nice to look at."

-----

Read below, or on AO3!

Lazy.

That’s how Aeon would say his day with Swiss has been. Lazy, but in the best way.

He’d woken late, drenched in the early summer sunlight pouring through Swiss’ windows. Wrapped in a tangle of limbs and blankets that he hadn’t found himself particularly eager to escape. Swiss seemed to agree, when he eventually cracked an eye open to find Aeon staring at him with a sleepy, besotted smile on his face.

“Finally, jeez,” he’d teased, planting a kiss on Swiss’ bare shoulder and flashing him some fang. “Thought I was gonna have to watch you drool forever.”

“You love when I drool,” Swiss had countered, raspy and thick but still playful as ever. He’d threaded heavy fingers into Aeon’s mop of messy waves, scratching at the spot behind his ear that always makes his leg twitch.

“Maybe,” he’d purred, tipping his head into the touch, “but I think there’s better things for that mouth to be doing.”

Swiss hadn’t argued that point, a slow grin splitting his face as he hooked a finger under Aeon’s sharp chin. As he knocked their horns together and nuzzled his cheek. Brushing their lips together in the barest hint of what Aeon was asking for.

“You have eye boogers,” Swiss had informed him then, thumbing along his lashline with a crinkled nose, and Aeon hadn’t been able to hold back his laugh.

“And you have morning breath,” he’d chuckled, looping a long arm around Swiss’ shoulders. “Kiss me anyway.”

Swiss had, happily so, and to Aeon’s delight there was no urgency behind it. No rush, no invasive tongue, no gasping for breath. Just the scratch of Swiss’ stubble, the tickle of his mustache and the warmth of his mouth. A kiss they had both gotten lost in, drifting on nothing but the feel and taste of one another.

The rest of their day had been equally indulgent; a long, hot bath filled with more of those decadent kisses and wandering hands. Hours spent in their pajamas on the common room sofa, Aeon sitting between Swiss’ knees so the other ghoul could play with his hair. A late lunch at the lakeside, Swiss occasionally tossing a grape into Aeon’s mouth from the other side of the blanket they shared. An early evening stroll to the greenhouse spent talking about everything and nothing, their tails idly curling together along the way.

Aeon had busied himself visiting his favorite plants once they arrived, chatting with one of the lesser ghouls tending to the table of orchids. Admiring petals in all shades of purple, caressing stems and verdant leaves with gentle fingers while Swiss hunted down Mountain. It hadn’t taken him long - Swiss creeping up behind him a few minutes later, looping his arms around Aeon’s waist to nose behind his ear, asking if he was ready to head back. Aeon had hummed, but hadn’t made an effort to move. He’d leaned back into Swiss instead, fingers dancing along a bud that had yet to bloom. In no particular hurry to abandon the beauty laid out before him.

Then Swiss had held up a baggie of prerolls, had kissed his neck, and Aeon decided that stopping to smell the flowers could wait until tomorrow.

Besides, his current view is infinitely more enticing.

“You’re staring,” Swiss lilts, eyes crinkling as he brings the smoldering end of their joint to his lips.

"'Course I am," he replies, loose and relaxed, "you're real nice to look at."

Swiss smiles down at him, washed in warm light that perfectly matches his golden eyes. Eyes that are both blown dark and red rimmed, heavy in a way that makes Aeon throb. He knows Swiss feels it deep inside, can tell by the way his breath stutters and his lids droop.

Aeon can't stop touching him, talented hands drifting from Swiss' knees to his chest and everywhere in between. Right now he has one on a strong thigh, thumb tracing ticklish half circles that make the muscle there jump. The other sits on Swiss' stomach, kneading gently at the little bit of pudge Swiss holds there. Aeon's obsessed with it always, but high as he is, the feel of it right now is simply exquisite.

"Easy there, kitten," Swiss sighs, his own hand gliding from Aeon's belly up towards his narrow chest. "Don't go bruising the goods." He rubs over a tight pink nipple with a slow thumb and Aeon groans.

"Can't help it," he replies, offering up a stoned smirk. "You're just so…"

Aeon trails off into a sound of faux frustration, grabbing at Swiss' tummy with both hands, digging bony fingers into soft flesh. Swiss laughs, a rich, warm sound that melts into a pleasured moan when Aeon twitches inside him. Swiss moves his hips in a slow circle and they both hiss with it.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Aeon murmurs, tongue flicking out wet his lips, and Swiss’ only response is a rusty purr.

He’s been sitting like this for a while now, keeping Aeon’s dick nice and warm while they finish off their treat from Mountain. A comforting weight that perfectly complements the fuzziness in his skull and the floatiness of his limbs. Aeon has no complaints about the fact that Swiss hasn't so much as bounced on him, neither of them in any rush to do more than enjoy the slow, luxurious grind.

Aeon somehow manages to pry his hands from Swiss' belly, settling them on his hips instead and encouraging him to circle them again. Swiss clamps down around him and it sends a wave of warmth through his pelvis so intense that Aeon shudders. Swiss hums his amusement around the joint, sucking down the last of it in one long pull. It's far too much at once, his broad chest puffed up to full capacity by the time he's done, but then Swiss is looking at him with a glimmer on those gorgeous eyes and Aeon really can’t be bothered to worry.

Smoke's already curling from his nostrils when Swiss leans down, dropping the roach into his ashtray before getting both hands on Aeon's shoulders. Settling his weight onto his slight chest and pressing their foreheads together. Aeon's arms snake around him in an instant, and then Swiss' mouth is on his and Aeon's world becomes nothing but scratchy stubble, soft lips and herbal smoke.

He drinks down all he can, licking it from Swiss' mouth and filling his lungs with the sweetest kind of poison. Swiss' tongue against his is heavenly, warm and wet and perfect to suck on when he's too out of breath to continue the kiss. Aeon exhales slowly through his nose while they soak in it, Swiss' nose rubbing against his and his velvety walls quivering in the most delicious way.

It's a challenge to convince his eyes to open once he's done, but somehow Aeon manages. Cracks lavender eyes no doubt redder than his flushed cheeks. Cheeks that go two shades darker when Aeon finds the other ghoul already watching him with a gentle warmth in his gaze.

"Now who's starin'?" Aeon teases, voice honey thick, claws trailing over Swiss' back in nonsense patterns. Oh he is very fucked up.

"Is it me?"

Well, at least Swiss is too.

"'S okay," Aeon assures him, as though Swiss would ever think staring was a problem. "I like when you look at me like that."

"Hmm?" Swiss cocks his head, squeezing at his shoulders. "Like what, starshine?"

Aeon's lips curl into a smile, one he offers up in a quick peck to Swiss' cheek.

"Like you love me."

He says it with such ease that it can't be anything but the truth, and despite the glazed look in his eye Aeon can tell that Swiss hears it too. He feels Swiss' cock throb where it's trapped between them, and Aeon hopes that the sticky spot on his stomach has grown larger.

"Maybe I do." Swiss sounds so goofy, so pleased. "What're you gonna do about it?"

Aeon offers a shrug, looping one arm around Swiss' waist while the other travels south. Coasts over the curve of the other ghoul's ass - Aeon grabs a nice handful, tugs at Swiss' hole a little just to hear him gasp - before slipping over his hip. Fingertips wiggling into the space between their overwarm bodies.

"Dunno," he answers, his casual tone a stark contrast to the way his greedy fingers worm their way closer to their prIze. "Could make you cum, I guess."

Aeon finds the slick head of Swiss' cock and sneaks two fingers between it and his own stomach. Massages the frenulum the way he knows Swiss' likes best. He's rewarded with a deep, dark moan, one that sinks into his skin like a tangible thing.

"Guess so," Swiss says, just a touch more breathless than he was a minute ago. "If you wanted."

Oh, Aeon definitely wants. Stoned as he is, that much is still obvious. He hums, catching the larger ghoul in a kiss that leaves him breathing heavier too.

"Sit up for me," he speaks against Swiss' lips, half into his mustache. "Wanna see you."

Swiss complies with absolutely no urgency, unhurried in the way he pushes himself upright. Relinquishes his grip on Aeon's shoulders to stretch those long arms over his head with a low groan. Aeon could watch him do this for days - could study every line and curve of the other ghoul's body for the rest of his existence and still want more. His admiring gaze travels from the tips of Swiss' fingers, down his arms, his chest, his stomach. When it settles on the swollen length of his cock, flushed dark where it's caged in pale fingers, Aeon can't help the way his own pulses.

Swiss must be so slick inside by now. Aeon can’t help but wonder, if he pulled out right now, if the mess of pre he’s been leaking for the better part of the past half hour would drip right down Swiss’ balls.

Swiss finishes his stretch with a show, running his own large hands down his torso with another roll of his hips, and Aeon sucks air through his teeth. Swiss gives him a devilish grin, hands coming to rest on Aeon's pecs, rosy little nipples pebbled under rough palms. Swiss kneads at him then, but Aeon's the one that purrs.

"Didn’t you say no bruisin' the goods?" Aeon barely recognizes his own voice for how slurred it is.

"I'm exempt," Swiss tells him, happily pawing at him while his cock throbs in Aeon's grip. Aeon snorts, free hand moving to stroke Swiss' thigh.

"'S'at so?"

"Uh huh," Swiss confirms, catching Aeon's nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. He gives them a nice tweak and Aeon yips, an embarrassing little sound that sends a flash of heat through him.

"What a surprise," he tries to deadpan, but the giddiness supplied by the weed makes it come out a bit silly. Swiss sticks out his tongue, and Aeon bites at the air as though he could reach it.

"What wa'zat about makin' me cum?"

Lucifer, Swiss sounds good when he's high. Aeon hums like he’s considering the concept, adjusting his hold on Swiss' twitching length. Less of a grip, more of a flat palm pressing it to the finely muscled plane of his stomach. Swiss gasps when he does, rutting forward on instinct and spitting another blurt of pre by Aeon's navel.

"Think you have everything you need to make that happen," Aeon croons, tongue poking out between his fangs. "Go ahead, I'm not stoppin' you."

Swiss groans deep in his chest when his brain processes the words, and then he's grinding again. Hips working in achingly slow rocks and rounds, each one designed to put Aeon's cock exactly where he wants it. Aeon adores the way Swiss' brow creases every time he hits an extra good spot, a beautiful sight that goes straight to his balls.

"Gonna take a while like this," Swiss huffs, despite the way Aeon can already feel him starting to flutter inside. Not that that’s a problem, there’s already heat starting to coil low in his gut with every move Swiss makes.

"'S'okay," he coos, the hand on Swiss’ thigh wandering up to nestle in his chest hair. “Jus’ promise you won’t stop if I blow first."

Swiss gurgles, spurts more pre, and Aeon’s content to lose himself in the wet sound of Swiss taking what he needs. There’s nothing he’d rather hear.

#miasma's work #the band ghost fic #aeon ghoul #phantom ghoul #swiss ghoul #aeon/swiss #aeon x swiss #ghost kinktober 2023 #kinktober day 1 #kinktober starts in october and ends when it's done lmao #fight me

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yourlocaldilemma · 8 months

Text

Golden Thoughts {part 4} (ln4)

Lando Norris x fem!sprinter!reader

word count: 2.1k

part 4/? part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

warnings: not edited

a/n: comment and reblog :) feedback is much appreciated! ______________________________________________

The cold corners, minimal furniture and stark white paint of Lando’s flat are the exact opposite of the bubbly boy that stands in front of you.

“Sooooo?” He drags out the word while bouncing on the balls of his feet. You’re standing in the kitchen, the ocean infront of you, cooking space behind you and his large flat spanning further to the right.

“It’s completely lovely, it’s just not as you as I thought it would be.”

“Were you expecting a university frat boys place?” He tosses a smirk in your direction.

His response pulls a smile to your face. “I was expecting some art on the walls, maybe some of your merch lying around.”

“There’s merch in a closet somewhere,” he chuckles, “a lot of it.”

His voices softens into a curious tone. “As for the art, it’s complicated, but sometimes it feels easier to-, it’s almost-, I feel like-,”

“Like if you personalize it then it feels like home, and when it feels like home it be becomes that much more impossible to be away so much.” You finish his thought for him.

“Exactly.” A shared look of understanding flashes from your face to his. The sport may be different but you share a similar lifestyle.

Tapping your nails on the quartz counter to end the weighted silence, you seat yourself on one of the barstools placed beneath the kitchen island.

“I cooked last time.” You explain after he makes no effort to move.

Hesitantly he begins to pull utensils from shelves, looking severely out of place even in his own kitchen. There’s very little food in the large fridge, and less than 30 seconds into watching him try to slice a cucumber you decide to take over. His cuts are uneven, messy, and his fingers seem at high risk.

“You don’t cook much do you.”

“You’re judging! No judging!” He whines and laughs, rubbing his hands over his face.

You join him behind the counter as you regain the same easy dance of cooking and conversation as in Australia. You learn that he always has chicken and salad before race day, he’s always wanted a kitten and you pick up on his habit of wringing his hands when he’s nervous or excited. By the time you finish cooking, you know more about him than you ever thought possible.

Lando takes a running leap onto the couch like an overexcited puppy.

“Where’s your bathroom?”

“Down that hallway to the right.” He points with a nod. Humming a thanks, you walk down the hallway he directed. The bathroom, not unlike the rest of the house, is almost completely white with only small silver features. The counter is scattered with what you assume to be an assortment of Lando’s colognes.

You wander back into the living room to find Landos eyebrows scrunched and a twinkling light of amusement in his eyes as he looks down, features accentuated by the glow of a screen . The edges of your lips turn up in a slow smile at his childlike expression before you recognize the phone case as yours. Your heart skips a beat in advance of dropping into your suddenly cold stomach.

Only after he raises his head to look at you do you realize you’ve been standing at the hallway entrance for long seconds.

“Care to explain?” He twerks an eyebrow upwards and nods at your phone. Your rapidly beating heart doesn’t slow as you amble your way over to sit next to him on the couch, overly nervous for no exact reason.

When he flips the phone around to let you analyze the screen, The Notification Centre is overflowing with alerts. The first three pop ups that catch your eye are all courtesy of the F1 app. News Headlines and reports from qualifying sided with little pictures span the screen.

“I don’t see what you find so entertaining. I never read those articles anyway.”

“Sometimes I do,” Lando ventures with a roll of his shoulders, “to know what people are mad at me for. That’s not what I was talking about though.”

You meet his ocean blue orbs as his deep pink lips stretch into a grin. what would it feel like to have them on your-

“You have my Instagram notifications on.” He stated proudly.

You lash out to snatch your phone from his grip, swiping to clear everything from your Lock Screen.

Pointing your nose upwards dramatically, you reply with a sarcastic flourish. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Lando just hums a sunshiney tune under his breath and stares at you with a bright smile, like you just solved global hunger.

“I’m going to find a movie now and you’re going to braid my hair.” You salute him behind his back as he moves to let you begin to braid.

“How does the little mermaid sound?”

“Amazing.” You giggle at his choice.

Not 20 minutes into the movie, you feel Landos now braid-adorned head drop onto your shoulder. You expect to see him grinning cheekily up at you but when you look down his eyes are closed, and he’s taking little soft breaths. 99.9 percent of you wants to shake him until he wakes up but with his race tomorrow you decided you can let him get some sleep.

You focus on the movie, but feeling your phone vibrating in your pocket breaks your concentration. You see four messages from Charles and cross your fingers he doesn’t somehow know you’re at Landos as you unlock your phone.

You know Lando is awake again when you feel tingling breaths on your neck as he peeks over you shoulder to look at your phone. Even though the texts are all written in French, it isn’t hard to translate the angry meaning of the emojis and multiple uses of Landos name. You can see him frown in the reflection of your phone and his mouth twitches as if he can’t decide what to say.

“He’s going to hate me forever.” You complain.

“He will never hate you. He just needs to get the fact that you’re not only his anymore through his thick head.” Lando wiggles further back into the couch. “He will, on the other hand, hate me forever, which might cause some problems for my PR team.”

A breathy laugh escapes your mouth as you tip your head back to meet the couch cushion.

“I don’t think I was his in the first place.” You scold Lando with a sarcastic undertone that he doesn’t seem to catch seeing how quickly he sits up to look at you.

“I didn’t mean it like that of course you weren’t his, you’re nobody’s I just mean,” his rambling pauses thoughtfully, “I think he kept you a secret for more reasons then he told you.”

You roll your eyes. “What are you talking about Lando?”

“I mean look at you. You’re absolutely gorgeous,body and soul. And you’re brilliant, and hilarious and independent, and I think you care a lot more than you let on. Charles knew that anyone who met you would never want to leave you alone, meaning he would lose more of you. So he kept you to himself.”

Looking down at his lap, Landos flushed a deep rose colour that blooms from his neck to the tips of his ears. You can feel your face prickling with heat alike his. Those were not words that were exchanged by “just friends”. Your breaths sync as the room goes completely silent around you.

“Thank you, Lando. That was beautiful. No one has said anything like that about me in a very, very long time,” you whisper, as his forehead swims closer and closer to yours in the thick air that filled the room as he spoke.

“It’s true.”

“Lando.” You meant it as a warning but it comes out as more of a gentle whimper as you look up through your lashes to see his eyes, sapphire swirled with pastel teal and flecks of powder blue all in one.

You watch his Addams apple bobs as he swallows and pulls away.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

You both return to watching the movie but the colors blur together and a grainy glaze slides over your eyes. The feeling of Lando being so close to you has a hazy veil over you. You’re still close enough you can feel his soft hoodie brushing against your arm.

“I should probably go soon. I have a really early flight tomorrow.”

“You could sleep here.”

He suggests it so easily, like you’d slept over at his place time and time again.

“Lando, I barely know you and you barley know me.”

“I’d like to though.”

A hopeful smile makes your eyes crinkle as you look at him and Lando, who returns it, extends his legs to lie down on the couch. When he catches your pursed lips and the skepticism that roles off you in waves, he sighs.

“One hour. It’s not that late and I’ll drive you back after.”

“Lando, I'm not good with things like this. I’ve always been someone who’s better alone. I didn’t have many friends growing up and track never helped with that much. And over time, I realized it’s better that way!”

“Because you won’t get hurt?”

“If you love someone or something, you’re giving them the ability to hurt you. I love sprinting with my entire soul, so that already one thing,” you shrug, “it’s just easier.”

“I get that. I truly do. But what I’ve learned is that if you don’t take the risk you could miss out on loving something that could make you happy.”

He catches your eyes and you can’t tear your gaze away from the jewels of his eyes.

“Just an hour?” His dimples show as he gives you an endearing smile.

~~~

You can feel bright sunlight on your eyelids and a warm entity encircling your body in a way that feels comfy and safe. The light only seems to grow until you inwardly moan and flip around in a fruitless attempt to escape the suns beams. Disoriented and tired, you split your eyes open the tiniest bit to allow the world to fade into view.

The sun directly in your face once again, you shift again. A low groan rings from behind you and your memory returns in one fast SnapBack to reality.

“Shit!”

the comforting warm blanket Lando groans again as you try to sit up. His hand is wrapped low and tight around your waist which must of happened sometime during the night.

The night you weren’t supposed to spend at his house in the first place.

You hiss at him. “Lando! I have a flight this morning!”

He makes a noise of protest but releases his grip on you.

You scramble around, swearing in multiple languages while trying to find your phone. Lando watches you, still not half awake, from the couch. When you find your phone face down on the floor, you turn it on to nine missed notifications from Charles and a clock reading 5:30 am.

Heaving a sigh of partial relief you sit up straight and immediately notice the kinks in your back. You were going to pay for yesterday in more ways than one.

“I still have two hours before I have to leave for the airport.” You state to no one in particular, your brain working a thousand miles a minute.

“So things aren’t as bad as they seem. I’m still fucked mind you, just not as deeply. All my stuff is at my hotel still. Oh my-“ you pull at your hair as blood rushes to your head when you stand up.

Lando pats the spot you were lying in only moments earlier.

“Shit is going to get fucked either way Y/N. come back to bed.”

“Lando!”

“Just for 3 minutes? I’ll drive you to the airport after?”

“Lando!!”

~~~~

After running around like a chicken with its head cut off, you make it to the airport seven minutes earlier then you wanted to. As you pull the luggage out of the boot of Landos car, you can see him fiddling with his hands again, pulling his rings on and off.

Peeking his head over the dark tinted windows, he meets your eyes.

“Thank you for having me for dinner. Even if you did trick me into spending the night at your place.”

“Best sleep I’ve had in a while.” He smirks.

“Goodbye.”

“Not goodbye.”

You raise an arched eyebrow at him.

“I’ll see you soon.”

“You seem sure of that Mr. Norris.”

“I am.” He turns on his car and begins to inch away

You call after the slowly moving car. “Oh and Lando? Good luck tomorrow!”

The morning sun glints off the top of his dark McLaren, the brake lights blinking red as he slows to peek his messy morning curls out the window.

“I got my braid!”

#lando norris x y/n #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #lando norris blurb #To wake up like that #Completely self indulgent fic after amazing quali #Lando Norris fic

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historia-vitae-magistras · 19 days

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Hi, I hope you don't mind me asking but why did Zee hate being a nurse? Well, other than her being forced into the role

I don't think she hated it at first. She loved being a professional in a crisp uniform with real rank and authority all her own on the virtue of her education and experience. It's a far cry from being permitted to do more or less whatever she likes because her father is a man with rank and authority. She likes the puzzle of diagnosis, the riddle of keeping people alive, and the profound speed with which medicine advances thrills her. But even as young as she is by the standards of her own kind, she still gets a bit restless. And it's in those times that just how unfuckingfair everything hits her.

When Jack's bored, he can pick up anything he pleases. Natural history, biology, paleontology, leather tanning, winemaking. If he's tired of the city, he can just up and fuck off into the interior to be a stock hand If he wants. No one will stop him. And to a certain extent, she can too if she really wants, but it's just so much harder and riskier. What she is does give her a certain amount of protection, but it's still a hard thing to pull off. So she switches jobs, visits her father or a brother or friends or throws on trousers, and leaves gender behind entirely. But life is still so often a choice between harrowing or stifling.

Patients love her; she's an excellent nurse. She's funny, a bit naughty, and always partial to her own. She can give as much as she gets when speech becomes sparing. She continued in pediatric and community nursing over time, but I think she got heartily sick of nursing during WWI. She climbed the cliffs of Gallipoli half out of spite but still took the hill of Chanuk Bair. She left her gender behind and smashed her brains in with rocks like any other half-starved body on the trench line. She did her part to cut that hill from Turkish hands at bayonet point. She showed a talent and a propensity for violence no one wants to believe exists in pretty young women. The only real victory Gallipoli saw was hers, brought to heel by her brutality. But then the British lost the captured ground almost instantly, and it was for nothing.

She slides back into nursing not long after as Churchill's foolishness finally comes to a close, and she spends the rest of 1916 trying to preserve whatever decency, whatever sanity remains to her and Jack. And that's almost harder for her to do as a nurse, witnessing death after disease after devastating injury, one after another after another. She wanders around as she likes from unit to unit, corset or helmet on and off, but often feels guilty when it's not in a corset because nurses are in much higher demand than any grunt with a rifle. Sometimes, she just can't stand the sight of another broken body. But she does kind of redeem nursing for herself by mid-1917 when the British army commands that dominion nurses can't be trained as anesthesiologists, and she only mentions Canada and Australia. I always think of that as a sly little move on Arthur's part because it puts Zee on a pay and rank basis equal to doctors for the first time and that her forceful personality can go to some real reforming use for the first time in a while.

So yeah, too long didn't read: it's not that she hated nursing so much as she hates misogyny and the front-row seat to senseless violence it granted her.

#the ask box || probis pateo #zee || ahakoa he iti he pounamu #meatsack mechanics || the sociology and biology of nations

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landinrris · 11 months

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Photographer!Lando WIP Snippet

Inadvertently came across an F1 challenge on ao3 that included a prompt about paddock photographer Lando and Ferrari driver Carlos and now I am running wild with it. It's almost 20k help Since I'm horrible at making short, consistent things, here I am sharing a snippet of them meeting for the first time

Lando had just been starting in the F3 paddock the last time Ferrari had seriously challenged for the title. It hadn’t ultimately gone well— a masterclass in disaster if Lando’s being honest. The way hope had slowly petered out, all but gone by July. Lando doesn’t know Carlos personally, but he’s followed his career through the years— had posters of him up on his bedroom wall and everything. He’s not too proud to admit that it’d be pretty cool to watch Carlos take Ferrari to their first championship in eighteen years. What a story that would make.

The Red Bulls aren’t too far behind him on Friday practice, his teammate back in third to his second after Saturday’s qualifying is all said and done.

It’s not like Charles doesn’t also deserve to be champion, Lando thinks, watching from the castle as he’s practically on top of Carlos through the tricky corners. But there’s a part of Carlos that screams he’s done waiting, and compared to the two DNFs Charles has already had with another fifth place in Australia, he’s further back in the points already.

Carlos has been walking around with careful confidence every time Lando sees him, like he can’t quite believe it’s been going so well.

And Lando’s not a stranger as to the other reason he’d love for Carlos to win.

It starts with a cr and ends with an ush. Seeing Carlos know he’s leading even early on in the season has been doing wonders for Lando’s infatuation. While he’s not one of the photographers who wait around for the drivers arriving at the paddock each day, he’s half tempted to hang around to get some of Carlos.

Lando’s sitting with his camera in the old city complex around halfway through the race when one of the nearby marshals reaches for their yellow flag. A second later, he sees a distinctly red Ferrari come around the corner going much slower than it should be even given the area it’s in. The distinct 55 becomes clearer not too long after.

One of the marshals rushes up to Lando, ushering him away from the escape road that Carlos is trying to direct his car towards. Lando moves, numb and disappointed as the broadcast feed in his ears finally acknowledges Carlos’ impending DNF.

He’s supposed to be neutral, and he is for the most part. It’s just that Carlos had been comfortably in the lead after jumping Checo at the start and now he’ll walk away from the weekend without any points.

This is how it starts.

Carlos jumps from the car once it’s safely off track and marches behind the barriers. They’ve never spoken, but Lando can read the tension in his shoulders from ten feet away. He’s stuck standing still as some of the nearby photographers turn to capture Carlos’ annoyance. Lando can’t bring himself to raise his lens in Carlos’ direction and instead turns back to the track. Carlos is undoubtedly not in the mood.

The old city usually provides good vantage points to capture the cars as they come through, but bunched up behind the safety car while the tractor pulls Carlos’ car behind the barriers is even better. A nineteen-car squirming snake.

The other photographers wander off after a handful of shots leaving Lando to believe that Carlos has mounted whatever scooter of shame they have for him back to the paddock. He’ll probably want to go punch something.

When Lando turns around after all the cars have cycled past though, a shock of red sitting with his back against the barrier without a helmet on, greets him. Lando only feels slightly guilty for thinking Carlos looks hot when he’s sad. The sight of Carlos sitting there, legs bent and hands dangling atop his knees, takes Lando’s breath away.

He should focus on the race, maybe move to a new location as the safety car comes in and the race goes green again. Instead, all Lando does is open his big mouth in the most embarrassing way.

“So, come here often?” It’s not overly loud, but with the lull in noise and Carlos close by, of course he hears it.

Carlos cracks open an eye and shifts his head level with Lando. “That is the best you could come up with?” It’s not overly nasty, but the element of unimpressed is definitely there that has Lando cringing internally.

“I mean, unless you’d rather me ask if you’re okay? And clearly you are, physically. Mentally, you’re probably kicking yourself. Points opportunity gone and everything when you know you need every one you can get.” Carlos is staring at Lando dead-eyed when Lando’s brain finally cooperates and slots its filter back in place.

“Are you finished?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

The tell-tale roar of engines making their way down the straight pulls Lando’s attention back to the track.

God, he’s such a moron. Out of all times for his filter to up and disappear, of course it happens while meeting one of the hottest people he’s ever seen. All while clad in the billowy white and purple mesh photographer vest he’s made to wear. Carlos probably thinks he’s some piece of shit who thinks he’s right about everything.

Checo’s leading when the cars snake past them but the only noise that lingers once they pass is his own self screaming wanker inside his head over and over.

“I haven’t seen you before, I think.” Carlos unexpectedly speaks nearly in conjunction with Lando’s finger lifting from the shutter.

Lando carefully holds himself still, trying to evoke an air of uncaring rather than one of eagerness to please. “Uh, no. This is my first season in the F1 paddock. Been with F2 and F3 since 2019 though. I’m Lando— Norris. Lando Norris.” He would hold his hand out for Carlos to shake if they weren’t awkwardly far apart and Lando was sure Carlos wouldn’t punch him for speaking out of his ass.

Carlos doesn’t punch him though. He nods and turns his head to look over at the marshal standing at their post fifteen feet away. “Tell me, Lando Norris, do you think this will cost me in a few months?”

Lando should say no, especially after shoving his foot in his mouth earlier. “It’s not gonna make it easier,” he says. God. “I mean— it’s not like I don’t think you can’t. I think if anyone could come back, it’s you. With like, consistency and all that. But the field is like, so close, you know? I should really stop talking.”

But Carlos is at least smiling at him this time like he’s enjoying watching Lando struggle to stop digging himself an ever deeper hole. He probably just needs to run and find a new photo spot where he won’t be at risk of talking to drivers who DNF.

“You think I’m consistent?” Carlos teases. Because that’s 100% what he’s doing, Lando can see it now. Proper smile and everything.

He points his camera at Carlos and takes a burst of shots in retaliation. They don’t deter Carlos’ grin.

“I mean, you beat your veteran teammate twice over the seasons since you’ve been at Ferrari, and then before when you were at McLaren even though you had shit luck. You know how to keep it in one piece.” Lando can feel how hot his face is and wonders if his blush is visible.

Carlos sighs. “I guess we will see, no? Where is Charles right now?”

The cars come roaring back up the hill and Lando counts fifth. Carlos seems mildly okay with that. Lando can only imagine how quickly Ferrari would switch allegiances if Carlos’ performance fell off. At least Lando can offer some reassurance.

One of the Haases clips a corner and gets some spectacular front axle damage a few laps later. Carlos takes that as his cue to push himself up and make his way back down to the paddock. Part of Lando is morose to see him go even though he definitely needs to move as well to get some variety in what he sends off later.

“I will see you around?” Carlos asks as he picks his helmet off the ground.

Lando flashes him a smile. “I’ll be here as long as they let me. Hopefully next time you’ll be back up on that podium.” And then Carlos is trudging back in the direction of the pits. Lando gives Carlos a few minutes before setting off in the same direction. Better to be closer to the podium at this stage in the race than farther away.

Lando doesn’t see Carlos again for the remainder of the afternoon. When he’s editing his photos later as the paddock begins to clear and the champagne has dried, he comes across the ones he quickly took of Carlos. They stop him in his tracks.

The photographers who had swarmed him after getting out of the car and sitting down on the ground all got photos of Carlos at his most vulnerable. Lando’s sure they look like he’s about to cry or scream or maybe both. They’ll use them to paint pictures of defeat and concern over Carlos’ championship chances— the likelihood of continuing with a DNF under his belt.

Lando’s photo shows the opposite. There’s a hint of a smile on his face as he sits on the ground looking in Lando’s direction. It doesn’t speak of dashed championship hopes, but rather fortified determination. That a DNF isn’t the end of the world, nor does Carlos think so.

He spends a few minutes correcting the balances and then opens Instagram. Carlos is one of those longstanding drivers Lando’s followed practically since he signed up for an account. He’s sure Carlos gets overwhelming numbers of DMs on a regular basis, but Lando has no other way of contacting him and he wants Carlos to have the photos.

The way his gut jumps when Carlos not only opens the message but replies with a short message of gratitude, should be embarrassing. Like a fucking teenager. And then Carlos honest to God posts them, crediting Lando’s page.

Lando tries not to feel guilty when he goes back to the hotel later and pulls up Pornhub on his phone. Dark-haired and dark-eyed guys aren’t solely reminiscent of Carlos. He’s totally normal and within his rights.

Nothing to worry about.

#is it almost 2k? maybe so but I'm lowkey having fun writing it and excited to share more #writing tag #carlando #husbands™#photographer lando fic

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mabelstone · 9 months

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Handsome Stranger

matt stone x reader

summary: where reader falls in love with the stranger in the apartment building across from her; part one.

word count: 1045

note: this is gonna be a softer fic but knowing me will probably spice up eventually. i've had this idea for soooo long but i'm not sure how everyone else will like it so please give me your feedback! <3

also surprise i'm australian so i made the character too... u can just ignore this and pretend she's from wherever you're from :)) so your version doesn't HAVE to be australian, she could have lived there briefly? its not that deep enjoy use your imagination

You'd only just moved to Brooklyn from Australia two months ago. The change was daunting and you were struggling to find your footing in such a new place. Though it'd always been a dream of yours to move to New York, you were still feeling out of place and the home sickness was starting to creep up. You'd heard it takes three months for the homesick feeling to flee, so your goal was to hold out just that little bit longer and try to enjoy the experience.

Coming from a small country town, the hustle and bustle of the Big Apple outside your window evoked a strange sense of comfort for you. You never truly felt alone, even though you were 10,000 miles (you'd had to learn the difference between kilometres and miles) from your friends and family. You'd often sit on your windowsill, as your apartment had no balcony, and watch all the pretty lights, and the cars, and hundreds and hundreds of people who occupied the streets. And more often than you'd like to admit, your eyes would wander to the handsome man in the apartment opposite yours. Your buildings were relatively close to one another, and it was safe to assume he also liked to enjoy the city life from afar. His eyes would often wander to your window as well.

Although you'd never shared a word, he'd become a huge comfort for you, almost a part of your nighttime routine. You'd get home from work around five, shower, play music or watch tv while you made some simple dinner, and then your favourite part; sit by your windowsill with a glass of red and admire your new life. Sometimes you'd read, sometimes you'd catch up on work emails. Most the time, you watched the handsome man in the other building smoke his nightly cigarette. Your buildings were quite high from the bright streets with just enough moonlight that you could just make out each others' faces.

Each night you'd watch the orange light illuminate his face, revealing the deep contours of his sharp bone structure. He'd lean his elbows on the windowsill, enjoying the autumn breeze as much as you, who sat with your back to the right side of the wall with your legs out in front of you, giving you the perfect view of the handsome stranger.

You wondered what kind of person he was. You believed you could tell a lot about a person from their apartment. From what you could see, he was relatively tidy and maybe a minimalistic, a single tall lamp responsible for the warm glow in his space. He wore button up tops and dress pants everyday, making you all the more curious about this man.

Each night after your shared glances and appreciation for the chaos below your buildings, he'd send a wave your way, and you'd always reciprocate, smiling ear to ear. You'd take that as your cue to close the blinds and get into bed.

You nearly missed it, but tonight he didn't wave. Instead, he gestured to himself, then you, then down to the ground. You cocked your head, raising your arms with a laugh he couldn't hear as a means to say "what?" He threw his head back dramatically, repeating his gestures slower and more exaggerated this time. "Oh, you wanna go down there?" You shouted across to him, hearing a faint, echoey, "what?" in return. You laughed again, shaking your head. You mirrored his own gesture back to him, earning yourself an eager nod and a thumbs up from the stranger. You chuckled to yourself as you watched him disappear back into his apartment, your heart racing as you comprehended what you just agreed to.

Only clad in silk pyjamas and slippers, you quickly grabbed your phone and keys and made your way to the elevator. You blood was buzzing through your veins like electricity at the thought of finally getting to hear his voice, to properly see his features in light.

Your heard thrummed in your ears as your elevator reached ground level, and suddenly you didn't want to meet the handsome stranger anymore. Your hands started sweating and you felt sick. You cursed your legs for dragging you out of your warm building and out onto the busy street, a little embarrassed that you were in your pyjamas. Just as you were about to back out, your eyes landed on him, and as if you were in a cliché movie scene, it all suddenly felt fine.

"Hey," he smiled breathlessly, towering over you, the sweetest tooth gap on display.

"Hello," you smiled equally as big, unable to control the blush that wildly painted your cheeks. "I'm Y/N."

"I'm Matt, pleasure to finally meet you." He stuck his hand out for you to shake, ripping a nervous giggle from you. You shook his hand back, still struggling to comprehend the situation.

"Likewise," you blushed even deeper, if possible. He was massive. So tall, broad shoulders. So incredibly masculine, yet the two words you would use to describe him would be handsome or... pretty.

"I'm kind of embarrassed to be out here in my pyjamas," you quietly spoke, moving in close so only he could hear. Your knees nearly gave out when he craned his neck down to hear you better. "I know we just met, but would you like to come up to my apartment?"

Although the words sounded suggestive, neither of you even thought of the invitation in a sexual way. It was like catching up with an old friend. In the elevator, you both pointed out the elephant(s) in the room. His height, your accent. He made fun of the way you said certain words, but you could tell he liked it by the way the corners of his eyes crinkled, and the way his tongue got stuck between his teeth when he'd laugh particularly hard. He was funny. You really liked him. Although you'd just met him, his presence was warm and somewhat felt like home. You couldn't believe the pathetic words that plagued your brain like a teenagers diary. But after he left your apartment at 4am, your stupid heart continued to pang against your ribcage, and your stupid mouth couldn't stop smiling.

pls send asks with ideas, i'd love to have you guys involved xx and if this is boring PLEASE tell me thx

#matt stone #matt stone x reader

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hyunlixsbbygirl · 8 months

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♡︎ Our Little Secret

When Chan is left home alone one night, he finds himself reading fanfiction about his members and getting himself into a bit of a predicament. What's worse? One of his members catches him in the act.

──❥ pairing: bangchan x leeknow

──❥ length: 3.3k

──❥ warnings: 18+, idol au, smut, needy member, dirty talk, low key admiration

──❥ note: the characters don't represent real idols; this is a work of fiction intended for entertainment purposes only. this in no way represents nor reflects real life. this work has been cross posted to ao3 under the username thishippiekid.

●○●○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●○●●

"Text me when you're on your way back. I mean it Changbin, if you forget again I will punish you somehow." The younger member pouted slightly but eventually gave in and agreed to text their leader when they were heading back home; the younger members of the group were all going to Got7's dorm for Mark's birthday. Chan had also been invited but since he was still getting over a small cold, he declined the offer playing it safe. "Yah, Jisung. Watch Felix's alcohol intake. The last thing I need is for him to wander off alone again." Jisung nodded and linked arms with his birthday twin before they all scrambled out of the door. Chan sighed heavily, while he was happy to finally have the dorm all to himself; he couldn't help but worry about his boys. "They'll be fine, they're adults. They can manage themselves without me." He attempted to calm himself with his own words but in reality, it just made him more worried. Shaking his head to rid himself of negative thoughts; Chan headed back to his bedroom thinking it might be nice to do an impromptu Channie's Room for Stay.

Entering his bedroom Chan realized that it was far too messy to actually go live and he really didn't feel like going to the company to go live either; it was cold outside and the last thing he needed was for his cold to get worse right before comeback season. He needed a distraction though; anything would do at this point, he just didn't want to become the over worried leader and start harrassing the members in their group chat while they were having fun. Flopping down onto his bed, he placed his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling; it wasn't often that he had the whole dorm to himself so he really didn't know what to do. He could play video games without worrying about being too loud when he inevitably lost, or he could work on producing some new music without having to use his headphones, or he could watch a movie while on FaceTime with his sister Hannah.

Pulling out his phone, Chan decided to look through Twitter and see what Stays were up to; he clicked on the Stray Kids hashtag first and scrolled through all the edits that were recently posted. "Wow, these are really good. I wish I could reply to them all." he said out loud. He ended up saving a few of the edits to show the members later before clicking on his personal hashtag; his heart filling up with joy at all the sweet things Stays were saying about him. "Some day I'll get my own Twitter account and reply to you all my little Stays" clicking out of the app he hovered his thumb over his other apps wondering what to look at next; there was always TikTok but he really didn't find it all that interesting these days. As he pondered getting on Among Us or watching YouTube, he got a text from his sister and one of his best friends in Australia.

Baby Brat: Yah stupid! Have you ever read fanfiction about your group? Brady Boy: Hannah just found one about you and Minho that you should totally check out!

Chan rolled his eyes, sighing heavily and debating on even texting them back. He knew the fans wrote fanfiction about them; occasionally he would come across a link on Twitter to one and check it out, the fans really had a talent for writing. Some of the stories they came up with were just incredible; like the one he last read where Stray Kids were a pack of wolves, whoever the writer was really knew how to write a great story. Thinking about that story made him curious; he went back onto Twitter and searched up the hashtage Stray Kids fanfic, but to his dismay, there weren't any links for new stories. He wasn't too sure on where else one could find fanfiction either, he always just clicked on the links that Twitter had but never paid attention to the website that was pulled up.

Wolf Leader: I've read a few lol, found any good ones? Brady Boy: Not really, just a few that I found on Twitter but I assume you've already read those. Baby Brat: Just look on AO3 dummy *eye roll*

"AO3?" Chan asks out loud as if his sister could hear him from across the world. He opened up his phone's web browser to google and typed in 'AO3' the first link seeming like the right website but just to be sure he took a screen shot and sent it to his sister to confirm. Once she confirmed that the first link was indeed the website she was talking about; he clicked on it and registered himself. He made sure to use a pretty common user name so he could keep this a secret from fans and hopefully his members. Once he was finished, he clicked on the search button, thinking about what to actually search up; should he try just straight up Stray Kids or should he pick a specific ship? He honestly didn't know what ship he would even want to read about so he chose to just search Stray Kids. Approximately 47,000 stories popped up, each with their unique tags and story descriptions; "There's so many!" his eyes widening as he began to scroll down the first page, reading the brief descriptions of each before choosing one.

It was titled 'Loving the Devil' and was centered around himself and Lee Know. The tags didn't contain anything concerning (though it did mention smut) so he clicked on the title and began reading. The story was set in the idol universe so it was more realistic than being set in a school setting or something. The beginning of the story was pretty mild and scarily accurate; describing how stressed the members were during comeback season and Chan of course wishing he could help his boys relieve their stress somehow. "Look at me always caring for my boys, even in fake scenarios." he smiled as he continued reading the story.

About half way through the story, things really began to heat up; Chan got into a fight with Lee Know who ended up pushing him against a wall threatening to hit him. "Okay, Lee Know would never do that... at least not to me." his eyes becoming wide as he read further down the page realizing that instead of hitting him, Lee Know kissed him. A very detailed description of the two of them making out and stripping each other's clothes off made Chan's face heat up; partially from embarassment and partially out of lust. He unknowingly was being turned on reading a completely fake scenario that would never happen in real life about him and one of his members. He hadn't read that far into the smut scene when he had to put his phone down and take a deep breath; his heart was racing and his whole body was heated.

When he felt himself calm down a little; he went back to reading. He knew it was probably a bad idea to continue reading something so hot and horny, especially when it involved one of his members but he couldn't force himself to click away. He licked his lips as he read about Lee Know pushing him down onto the bed, straddling his thighs and running his finger tips lightly over his abs; mental images coming into his mind as though he were watching a movie of himself and Lee Know. He felt himself growing hard in his shorts as he kept reading and imagining the things that were being described; if he was completely honest with himself, he did occasionally think about what would happen if he and another member did things like this. They were all touch deprived and in need of sexual release so it wasn't abnormal to think about doing it with the members. BamBam had once admitted that he and Yugyeom fooled around a few times and told Chan that he knew of other idol groups sleeping with each other too.

The more he thought about sleeping with one of his members, the harder he became. His breathing coming out faster and unstable; body heating with lust and desire as he trailed his hand down his stomach to the aching bulge in his shorts. He palmed himself over the thick fabric slowly and teasingly; it wouldn't be bad to just relieve himself while imagining Lee Know going down on him right? He was completely alone after all, no one would ever know that he got himself off to a fanfic of him and Lee Know. Grunting slightly, Chan lifted his hips to slide his shorts and boxers off; discarding them on the floor next to his bed before pulling his blanket over his erection. He may be alone now but he was always cautious when it came to jacking off; always making sure he could abort the mission at the first sign of someone coming home.

He continued to read the fanfiction as he wrapped his free hand around his cock and began pumping himself nice and slow, building up the pressure and getting fully hard before really giving himself a good stroke. Soft sighs dripped out of his mouth as the mental images danced around in his head; Lee Know on his knees with Chan's cock in his pretty mouth, the younger's tongue swirling around the angrily red tip before he took him fully into his mouth again. Chan was really getting into the story so he didn't hear the little chime of the front door unlocking or the sound of someone calling his name from the living room. The mysterious member padded down the hallway towards the elder's room, barely making a sound as he opened the door, "Hey hyung I..."

Lee Know paused in the doorway, mouth hanging open and eyes wide in shock at what he just stumbled in on; Chan laying in bed, stroking himself underneath a blanket and in mid moan of his name. Chan threw his phone across the room, jumping at the sudden intrusion; lucky for him his phone landed on Felix's bed safely. "What are you doing here?!" the panic evident in the leader's voice as he tried to hide his erection from the younger despite already being caught. To the elder's surprise, Lee Know walked further into the bedroom; closing the door behind him and locking it "I got bored so I came back early" there was something hidden in the younger's voice that made Chan shiver. "I expected to find you filming Channie's Room, not thinking about me while getting off." Chan blushed deep, the blush spreading wide across his cheeks and up into his ears.

"I have to admit, hearing you moan my name is pretty hot" Chan nearly whined at the younger's words; was this really happening? There was no way the exact person Chan had been imagining was now walking towards him seductively with the look of lust in his eyes. "So tell me, what inticed you to think about me?" Lee Know crawled up Chan from the bottom of the bed, never taking his eyes off the older's. "I was uh... r-reading." Lee Know smirked as he straddled the leader's thighs, his ass coming in complete contact with Chan's still hard erection. "Oh, a fanfiction I see. I didn't expect you of all the members to read through that stuff. I assumed you'd avoid it." he leaned down so that his breath ghosted against Chan's lips, it sent tingles up and down the older's spine.

"I g-got curious... and Hannah m-mentioned it so I- I..." Chan's breath hitched and his back arched slightly off the bed, "So you looked for a story about you and I? Tell me, what were we doing in the story Channie?" He had to use every ounce of self control he had not to roll his hips upwards into the younger's ass; he was so painfully hard and needed to feel something to relieve the pressure. "We were... f-fighting and you pressed me against t-the wall. You were g-going to hit me but at the last m-minute you kissed me instead." Lee Know raised his eyebrows in intrigue, his eyes moving from Chan's eyes, down to his lips and back up again. "So the thought of me kissing you made you horny?" Lee Know brought his lips slightly closer to Chan's, letting a chuckle escape his throat when he saw the elder lift his head up in an attempt to feel thier lips against each other.

"What else did I do to you?" the younger slipped his hands underneath the older's shirt and lightly traced his finger tips over his abs just like his character had in the story. Chan moaned and bucked his hips upwards, sucking in his breath when he finally got a little friction. "Y-you shoved me onto the bed and k-kissed your way down my stomach" the younger forced Chan to sit up so he could slid his shirt off before hungrily kissing him finally. Lee Know letting a moan of his own slip past his lips as he felt how needy his leader was for him; how the other hungrily kissed him back, licking over his bottom lip asking for permission to enter his mouth. The younger parted his lips; allowing the older to explore him, their tongues swirling around each other as their breathing became heavier and small moans and whines escaped them.

Lee Know broke the kiss to bring it down the older's jaw to his neck, biting and sucking the warm skin; Chan tilting his head to the side to give the younger more room. Lee Know was careful not to leave any visible marks but still biting and sucking hard enough to pull moans from the older. "How far did we go?" the younger brought his kisses down to Chan's collarbones as his fingertips rubbed against his nipples; the older shivered under the touch, finding it difficult to form the words he needed to say. "You... uh.. you... s-sucked me off."

The younger's mouth made its way down to Chan's left nipple, sucking the bud into his mouth until it was hard and sensitive before repeating his actions on the right; his hand wandering down to Chan's cock and palming him over the blanket. "So you imagined my mouth around your cock huh? Swirling my tongue around your sensitive tip?" Oh the younger was evil, he was being a tease on purpose and he knew exactly what he was doing. "P-please...Min" Chan begged, he was getting desperate for release. His stomach tight with the over flowing need to cum.

Lee Know smirked as he kissed his way down Chan's abs until his mouth was hovering over his cock; moving the blanket, Chan felt the warm breath of the younger against him and shivered in need. "You're so needy hyung, look at how red your cock is. Leaking so much for me and I haven't even done anything yet" Chan whines, thrusting his hips up slightly to indicate that he was very needy indeed. Lee Know clicked his tongue before kitty licking the tip, eyes fixed on Chan's face as a wave of pleasure washed over it. "Oh g-god..." Chan moans, his eyes closed and head thrown back against the pillow as he finally gets what he was seeking.

The younger licks all the way down Chan's shaft on one side and then up the other, smirking when the older squirms from the pleasure; "Do you want to fuck my mouth Channie? You want to watch me take your cock down my throat?" his voice becoming more seductive than before as he batted his eyelashes prettily. "T-that won't hurt you?" Lee Know shakes his head, "It wouldn't be the first time I had something in my mouth, though this is the first time sucking someone off." Chan didn't question this for long as he sat up, the younger slipping off the bed to his knees as Chan sat on the edge.

Lee Know opened his mouth diligently as Chan slid his cock into his mouth; he was hesitant, he didn't want to hurt the younger especially since he was a singer and needed his throat to be okay. Lee Know sucked Chan deeper into his mouth, hallowing out his cheeks and closing his eyes as he moaned around him; the vibrations adding to the sensation causing Chan to moan louder than he did before. Slowly he built confidence and started thrusting his hips into the younger's mouth. Lee Know gladly sucked Chan all the way into his mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of his throat with every thrust.

"F-fuck.. Min..." Chan was impressed that the younger was capable of something like this; he didn't even gag or choke when the back of his throat was abused over and over again. The younger simply moaned around him; his hands holding Chan's thighs for balance and stability as the older fucked his mouth at a medium pace. "I'm...c-close" Chan warned, the sensation proving to be too much for him last much longer. Lee Know sucked him harder, bobbing his head along with Chan's pace as he brought him closer to his release.

Chan's stomach tightened and he felt tingles course through his body as his orgasm washed over him; squirming and shaking through his release as the younger swallowed his seed the best he could. Not having cum for months, there was a lot for him to swallow and he somehow managed to get every last drop. When Chan finally collapsed on the bed, Lee Know licked him clean before standing up admiring Chan's blissed out face and pants. "Better than imagining it huh hyung?"

Chan nodded, not trusting his speaking abilities at the moment. Lee Know chuckled as he wiped his mouth with the collar of his shirt; he moved to sit on Felix's bed across from the older; a smile plastered on his face from helping his leader feel this amazing. "Want me to suck you off?" Chan suddenly asked, turning his head to look at the younger; his eyes still showing a hint of lust and need in them. "I... uh... well." Lee Know looked down at himself, Chan's eyes following noticing the slight discoloration of his jeans. "You came without being touched?" this time it was Lee Know that blushed.

"I couldn't help it, plus I haven't... you know for nearly a year." Chan reached out for Lee Know's hand, pulling him towards him. "You can always come to me when you need release. You helped me so it's only fair that I return the favor." he leaned into the younger, pressing their lips against each other. Both sighing out in pleasure and deepening the kiss before hearing the chime of the front door being unlocked; they pulled away unwillingly, Lee Know grabbing Chan's clothes and tossing them to him as he laid on Felix's bed acting like they were just talking the whole time.

"Hey you two, have fun while we were gone?" Felix's voice echoed through the hall as his footsteps were heard; the door to the bedroom opening a few seconds later. "We were just talking about comeback season. If you wanna call that fun." Lee Know said in his typical tone of voice. The younger just nodded not noticing that despite being sucked off just moments ago, Chan was already hard again and that Lee Know was squeezing his legs together. "Well I'm going to sleep in Hyunjin's room tonight so I'll see you two in the morning." Felix said happily skipping off to the other's room.

Lee Know looked at Chan and smirked, "Round two?"

#stray kids #skz #felix #hyunjin #bangchan #lee know #changbin #han jisung #i.n #seungmin #skz one shot #minchan

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strictlyfavorites · 2 months

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On this date in 1979, April 12th, "Mad Max" was released in Australia.

George Miller raised the money for the film by working as an emergency room doctor. Most of the extras used in the film were paid in beer. The film was shot in 12 weeks, on a meager $350,000 budget, in and around Melbourne.

Mel Gibson didn't go to the audition for this film to read for a part, he actually went along with his sister who was auditioning. But because he had been in a bar fight the night before and his head looked like "a black and blue pumpkin" (his words), he was told he could come back and audition in three week's time because "we need freaks!" He did return in three weeks' time, wasn't recognized (because his injuries had healed well), and was asked to read for a part.

The film initially received a polarized reception upon its release in April 1979, although it won three AACTA Awards and attracted a cult following, while its critical reputation has grown since. The film earned more than US$100 million worldwide in gross revenue. It held the Guinness record for most profitable film and has been credited for further opening up the global market to Australian New Wave films.

Miller on the character Max Rockatansky: "He's all of us, amplified. Each of us in our own way is looking for meaning in a chaotic world. He's got that one instinct-to survive. After the first 'Mad Max', we went to Japan and they said, 'We know this character, he's a ronin, like a samurai.' In Scandinavia they called him a lone, wandering Viking. To others he's a classic American Western figure."

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minefield-of-a-ninja · 1 year

Text

28 DAYS: CHAPTER FOUR

Summary: Dean Winchester is an addict and an alcoholic, a USMC veteran, a father, and an older brother. As Battalion Chief with Lawrence Fire & Medical, Dean comes under investigation when he makes a dangerous and impulsive decision, defying his superiors and abandoning the team he is supposed to lead. He is given a choice to go to rehab for 28 days or jail. His lawyer insists on rehab, and Dean begrudgingly abides.

Chapter Characters: Dean Winchester, Jack Kline, Missouri Mosely, Meg Masters, Billie (Pilgrim), Pamela Barnes, Crowley, Rowena Macleod, Constance Welch, Gabriel

Chapter Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, Meg (lol), Dean's first therapy session, sexual content

Words in this chapter: 3,600

AN: Dean’s experience with Billie is unique to his experience and influenced by themes from SPN. Please do not take his scenes with Billie (or anything from this story) as a reason not to seek therapy.

While very important to me, this story is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent all aspects of addiction and recovery. In Dean’s case, he is in no danger of delirium tremens, but withdrawal is always a lengthy and challenging process. Since Dean’s tox screen was positive for Valium, a go-to alcohol withdrawal treatment, as well as Vicodin, his doctors have prescribed Gabapentin (for pain, tremors, and anxiety) and the vitamin Thiamine (an essential micronutrient that cannot be made in the body of which alcohol prevents absorption). The treatment is meant to relieve Dean’s discomfort, prevent the development of more serious symptoms, and forestall cumulative effects that might worsen future withdrawals (i.e., delirium tremens).

Mental illness, alcoholism, and addiction run in my family. Yesterday, I lost another close relative to alcoholism. He was a beautiful man who loved his family and brought us joy and warmth through the years. Rest in peace, Kent.

If you or anyone you know are facing mental and/or substance use disorders, please do not hesitate to reach out:

All my love and thanks to @stusbunker and @brrose-apothecary for reading and discussions and holding my hand

text divider by @talesmaniac89

CHAPTER FOUR

Sun filters through the bare windows, heralding a new day.

Dean made it through the night, and, of that, he’s pretty fucking proud. He even got a good 90 minutes of sleep in, which is wild considering the total lack of valium.

He peers over at Jack’s bed and sees the kid sound asleep, drooling all over his pillow and stuffed guardian like a good kid should. The sight makes Dean’s stomach flip, but he smiles as he sweeps his blanket aside to cautiously roll off his bed.

He’s aching from head to toe, and the cool air has him shivering. Overall, his symptoms seem to be subsiding, but maybe he’s just too tired to feel it all.

Under his shower's hot, steady spray, he gets warm and limbers up. His range of motion, though stiff and painful, is returning to his shoulder and hips. He wishes he could soak in a tub like the one they have at the station.

His heart sinks, thinking about the station — about his team and Tessa. He hangs his head, letting the hot water soothe his muscles and trying not to think too much about how disgusted they all must be.

His spiral of guilt and shame is interrupted when his stomach growls. Hunger’s probably a good sign since the mere thought of food made him want to hurl yesterday and the day before.

More than anything — well, not anything, but more than food — he wants coffee.

After his shower, he quickly and quietly dresses, trying to remember what Missouri told him yesterday (which seems like a fucking year ago) about breakfast. He doesn’t recall the time she mentioned, so he wanders to the front desk to see what he can find out.

Missouri’s in her office as if she never left. She’s busy setting out little paper cups on trays, and without looking up, she greets him.

“Good mornin’, Dean.”

“Mornin’, ma’am.”

“How’d you sleep last night?”

Dean leans on the counter and watches her work. “Not a lot, but better than nothin’, I guess.”

Missouri hums. “You’re early, but I’ll get you fixed up.”

Dean’s brow furrows when she hands him one of the tiny paper cups with two pills inside.

“Your doctor told you we’d be givin’ you thiamine and gabapentin?”

Dean nods.

“You’ll get one low dose each every mornin’ from me, or from Alex. Just come right here and we’ll have it for ya, and then you can go to breakfast.”

Dean stares at the pills. He’s taken enough first responder classes to know what they’re used for, but he doesn’t feel sick enough for thiamine.

“They’re not gonna bite ya, boy. They’re better for ya than whatchu been swallowin’ — go on, now.”

Dean looks up at Missouri, and her stern, warm eyes calm him enough to throw the pills back and accept the cup of water from her. He crumples the water and pill cups into his fist before handing them over for Missouri to discard.

“What time d’you say breakfast was?” Dean asks.

“Not ‘til 7:30, but there’s coffee.”

“Fuckin’-A.”

Missouri tsks and furrows her brow at his language.

“Apologies, ma’am.”

Yeah, he apologizes, but he can barely contain his excitement, and he almost cries when he sees the tall carafe. As he reaches for a clean cup, Meg appears at his side out of fucking nowhere, peering over a steaming cup of her own.

“You know, I’ve heard of dry-out joints where they don’t allow caffeinated beverages of any kind.” Her eyes narrow, and her voice hollows like she’s relaying a dreadful urban legend.

“That so?” Dean arches a brow as the liquid gold fills his cup.

Meg, clearly better caffeinated than he is and dead set on engaging him pre-coffee, makes a show of lounging against the beverage cart.

“Or cigarettes,” she adds, taking a pointed sip of her coffee.

Dean takes his first blessed drink with a deep moan and then realizes what she’s actually said. “Wait— we have cigarettes here?”

Meg slowly nods with the most impish smirk Dean’s ever seen, then inserts herself between Dean and the carafe to top off her own cup.

“You can buy them at the commissary. Except they’re almost always out. I have my sister send them to me by the carton.”

For the second time in barely 5 minutes, Dean feels like crying from joy. He examines his tiny savior as she turns to look up at him, blowing across the lid of her cup in what he assumes is her natural state of absolute mischief before taking his leap.

“I dunno how to say this without sounding sad and desperate, but I’ll do just about anything for a smoke right now.”

Meg chuckles, raking her gaze up and down his form. “Damn that pesky no-fraternizing rule.”

Dean narrows his eyes as he tilts his head and purses his lips. Turns out he doesn’t need to be all the way at the top of his game to charm the smokes out of even the shrewdest holders.

“You’re adorable.” Meg purrs, reaching her inside jacket pocket. “Does anyone ever say no to you?”

Dean mocks up a thoughtful expression. “Not usually.”

She pushes away from the coffee bar, sticking a cigarette between her lips and waving a second like a dog biscuit. “C’mon. Outside.”

Meg will either be his new best friend or his demise. Either way, he’ll do whatever she asks right now.

On their way out to the deck, a woman brushes past them, openly eyeing Dean. She’s petite and seductive, with dark hair, dark eyes, and porcelain skin. Dean licks his lips, and his pants excessively tighten for 7 o’clock in the morning.

Meg whistles and Dean jolts from his trance before following her out to the deck.

“You know you’ll get booted for that, right?” She tucks into herself and lights her smoke.

“What?” Dean plays dumb, accepting his treat and her simple plastic lighter.

Meg rolls her eyes and exhales. “Sex addict to sex addict? I could hear your dick serenading her.”

Dean chuckles and rolls his eyes, firing up his reward. He inhales deeply and revels in the mingling of nicotine with caffeine. As he exhales, a warm buzz seeps through his brain and out to his extremities.

“Might be worth it. Fuck, I need somethin’.”

“You don’t need that, I promise.” Meg leads Dean to a long sturdy table overlooking a wooded area. “Billie will not even think twice about transferring you out, and then you start all over.”

Dean chews his lip, letting his second exhale roll from his lips. He shakes his head and hands her lighter back to her as she hikes up onto the table, planting her feet on the bench.

He doesn't tell Meg that he wouldn’t go to another rehab; he’d go to jail — no Passing Go, no two hundred dollars, no starting over.

“Who’s Billie anyway?” He takes another drag and eases up onto the table next to Meg.

“Therapist,” she grunts, then exhales. “Recovering addict, general badass, and doesn’t miss a thing.”

He rolls his cigarette between his fingertips, momentarily lost in the glowing tip. “There’s gotta be a way around some of these bullshit rules, huh?”

Meg shakes her head. “Nope. I mean, some people get stuff or fuck around, but they always find out.”

Dean huffs a laugh and exhales. “Fuck around and find out — cute.”

She shrugs, chuckling along with him. “I have a few good ones now and then.”

They’re quiet as they finish their smokes and their coffees cool. Finally, Meg tosses her butt into the bucket of sand as she hops down from the tabletop.

“Breakfast? The bacon’s not bad.” She shoves her hands in her pockets, giggling when Dean groans.

“Oof, talk dirty to me, darlin’.” He squeezes the cherry from the end of his smoke as he slides from the table and follows Meg back inside.

Billie Pilgrim appears just as Dean imagined she would. She’s professionally dressed and attractive, but not overwhelmingly so. Yet Dean can feel the light tremor of gamma-ray inquisition flowing from underneath her calm exterior.

“Good morning, Dean.”

“Mornin’,” he replies, mimicking casual as he glances around the uncluttered and ordered office.

There’s a wall of louvered glass doors similar to the cafeteria but on a much smaller scale. It’s a neutral, open space designed to promote conversation; even Dean knows enough about psychology to suss that out.

“Have a seat.”

Dean nods before settling into an armchair. His anxiety kicks in when he sees Billie round her desk with a thick manila folder and a legal pad.

“Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?”

“No thanks,” Dean answers, studying the chair’s upholstery and contrasting it with the denim of his worn jeans.

As Billie takes the seat across from him, he realizes too late that he still hasn’t made eye contact. When he finally does, he discovers her observing him without expression. He holds her gaze just as he shifts for comfort or cover.

“How’s your pain, Dean?” Billie opens the manila file.

“Better,” he replies.

Billie nods, flipping through the pages in the file. “Any questions about your prescribed medication?”

Dean shakes his head. “Discharging doc told me what to expect. Missouri’s a pro. Think we’re good.”

Her mention of medication as she peruses a hefty file all about him makes his chest tight, but he smiles and breathes through it.

Billie nods, organizing the file and her notepad before lacing her fingers together in her lap. “Well, then, let’s hop right in.”

“Great,” Dean agrees.

Billie fixes her face with a small smile but remains quiet.

Dean waits, not wanting to break first, but he’s agitated. He rolls his eyes. “This uhh... silent treatment/staring contest thing — does it really work for you?”

Billie chuckles before flipping to another page in her folder and making a note. She doesn’t answer his question.

“Are you aware of what caused you to lose consciousness on the morning of the incident?” She pauses, bringing her gaze back to him before swiping a hand down her notepad like she’s brushing away some ill-perceived dust.

Dean sticks his tongue into the side of his cheek and tilts his head. “I’m gonna go with drugs, alcohol, and an explosion. Am I warm?”

Billie nods. “To be clear, Dean, my job is to help you piece things together so that you better understand your story.”

“My story.”

Jack mentioned Crowley’s story last night. The psychobabble is going to drive him off a cliff.

“I’m asking if anyone has reviewed the series of events, the toxicology report, and your subsequent injuries with you.”

“Yeah, I got fucked up, disobeyed direct orders from my boss, and almost got myself blown up.”

Billie narrows her eyes and nods as she begins to read from the file.

“Your attorney agreed to tests and a search of your person. You carried 1.5 grams of cocaine for assumed personal use into a massive conflagration for which you were the chief in charge of four other firefighters — plus the life of a teenage boy inside the building.”

Dean drops his eyes and bobs his head, then squeezes his eyes shut.

“All stop. All stop!”

The blunt edges of his fingernails dig into his palms.

“You then tested with a BAC of .23. At 9 AM.”

Dean nods again as the words knit together to tell his story — one of negligence and ruin. He knows this; she doesn’t have to tell him. Why the fuck does she think he drinks?

“Also found in the tox screen: marijuana, Vicodin, Valium, and coke.” She closes the file and slips it under her notepad. “Quite the mix.”

Dean twists his lips into a wry smirk. “Well, I like to be thorough,” he drawls.

Billie studies him closely. “Do you always use humor to deflect?” she asks, jotting more notes.

“No, sometimes I use sex and drugs.”

“Touché.”

She continues to write things on her giant pad and act like she isn’t conversing with a human being while Dean grinds his teeth and imagines what it would feel like to punch a hole through the wall.

“I understand you have a teenage daughter.”

“Anything about me you don’t know?” He gestures toward the fat file in her lap.

Billie shakes her head. “Just the basic outline. I’m hopin’ you’ll give me the colors.”

Dean remains silent. So far, her line of questioning has been nothing but intimidation tactics and shaming. Dean sees no reason to team up with her.

She sighs, sliding her notepad inside the big file with the rest of Dean’s mistakes. “Listen, Dean; I’m here to help you. You did some bad things that your brother Sam can’t defend, and over the next 28 days, you’ll need to decide how you want to move forward with your life.”

“Yeah. I get that.” He grinds his teeth.

“Especially with joint custody of a teenage girl.”

Dean flicks his eyes to hers. He can no longer stem his rage. “Are you threatening me?”

Billie doesn’t miss a beat. “You’re threatening yourself, Dean.”

“Alcohol is a depressant; after prolonged use, the body must respond. To offset those effects, the brain starts producing a large number of chemicals like serotonin, dopamine, and epinephrine.”

Dean is absolutely positive that the slide presentation is filled with the most gruesome and extreme photos of alcohol- and drug-damaged organs anyone could find on the world wide web.

“Jesus Christ. What’s next, a honey bath with a million red ants?”

“Shut up,” Crowley hisses from four seats over, and Dean rolls his eyes, snatching a baby carrot from Pamela’s bowl of raw vegetables.

He scowls at the tiny, orange root before deciding to gnaw on it anyway.

“What’s his fuckin’ deal?” he murmurs, slumping into his seat

“Other than being a miserable old queen?” Meg asks, reaching across Dean to nab a slice of bell pepper from Pamela’s stash.

“Really?” Dean raises a brow as he chews.

Pamela snorts. “What’s the surprise — that he’s pathetic or gay?”

Dean pulls a sturgeon face. “I dunno why I even care, honestly.”

“When you suddenly quit alcohol, the brain continues to produce these substances in the same quantities, and the body’s flooded with chemicals at dangerously high levels.

Alcohol withdrawal symptoms include insomnia, restlessness, hand tremors, anxiety...”

“Do they think we’re all layin’ around gettin’ a full eight hours every night?” Dean gripes.

He doesn’t see it, but he knows Crowley and Rowena are glaring at him. He should probably reel in the MST3K of the educational videos for a while.

He sinks lower in his seat with a pout. “Why’s she so chummy with him, ya think?”

Meg shrugs, nibbling on her bell pepper and sliding her stocking feet across Dean’s lap. “She mothers everyone. Jack? I get. But him? Ugh.”

Dean immediately sets to work, kneading and squeezing Meg’s feet like they do this kind of thing all the time. It’s comforting to have the connection. He’s thankful he found her and Pamela so quickly; otherwise, he’d already be in jail.

The instructor raises the lights and takes questions as she loads up the next reel of slides. Meg’s gaze wanders momentarily until she locates Jack sitting on the floor with a couple of other teenagers.

“That was me when I was his age, ya know? I started just as early.”

Dean quietly rubs her feet, listening. He wouldn’t say he was Meg or Jack, but he did some shady shit when he was a teenager to put food on the table for himself and Sam.

“Not to be Debbie Downer,” Meg quips.

“That’s what we’re here for, right? Sharin’ and growin’?” Dean smirks, digging a knuckle into her arch.

Meg’s eyes roll back and she moans, curling her toes. “Holy shit.”

Dean chuckles, pressing his tongue behind his teeth, and Pamela says something about getting a room.

“You haven’t shared yet, though.” Pamela points out, offering him another baby carrot. Dean opens his mouth and she pops the small veggie into the abyss. “How’d things go with Billie today?”

Dean munches his snack with an eye roll. “Slapped my wrist, gave me homework, and now I get to clean up after dinner.”

“So, standard first meeting,” Pamela says, and Meg nods.

“I dunno, man, it felt like she was trying to piss me off. Like she had a score to settle. She kept bringin’ up my daughter.”

Pamela nods, turning closer toward Dean. “Does your daughter live with you?”

Dean glances at Pamela then sort of shakes his head. No one likes people who put kids in danger — their own or anyone else’s — but he can’t say that Em wasn’t there that morning as some kind of answer because she’s seen plenty.

“Joint custody.”

The lights go down again, and the instructor starts the audio. Before the second slide, Pamela nudges Dean and slides him her phone.

“Hey, how d’you get a phone?” he whispers, and she chuckles.

“You’ll earn it back." She points to two young kids on her screen. "These’re my boys. Jesse Jr. and Bodhi.”

Dean grins at the sunny smiles, radiating from the screen. “Coupla handsome kids ya got there, PB. Jesse Sr.?”

“Killed in Afghanistan.” Pamela’s smile and answer are both soft and subdued as she pockets her phone. “What’s your girl’s name?”

Dean suddenly feels very heavy and tired. “Emma.”

“As soon as you get your phone back, you call Emma,” Pamela whispers before relaxing back into her seat.

Dean nods.

Emma stopped taking his calls and blocked his texts months before. Should he say that to Pamela?

Meg drags her feet from his lap and leans forward. “Welp, I’ve seen this one, folks, so I’m gonna duck out and play cards with Gabe.”

“But this is riveting cinema, Megan,” Dean mutters, and Meg chuckles, ruffling his hair.

“See ya at dinner,” Pamela whispers, and Meg waves. “Do I get a foot massage next?”

Dean snorts a laugh, turning to face Pamela as she kicks her clogs off to rest her feet in his lap.

Later that week, Dean sets about his assigned tasks of wiping down every table and chair before laying out breakfast set-ups for the following day. He appreciates the rote chores because they allow him to just breathe for a bit — no purposeful conversation or tip-toeing around bitchy, old Crowley.

As he’s stripping the required protective gloves off to wash his hands, he spots the dark beauty he and Meg saw on Tuesday morning. She’s alone in one of the peripheral seating areas, watching him over the top of an open book.

He drops his gaze to see the hand not holding her book buried between her legs. His gut clenches, and his cock stirs. He bites his tongue and wills himself to breathe as he tosses the gloves in the trash and turns to wash his hands.

He’s staring into the steaming stream of water when she speaks.

“I’ve seen you around. I’d like to see more.”

Dean closes his eyes and swears under his breath. She slides up against his backside like they’re in a dance club, skating her hands up under the front of his t-shirt. His core muscles clench so hard it hurts.

“You’re really hot.”

He twists the knobs to close before dropping the nail brush into its grated plate and shaking the excess water from his hands.

“Is your dick as pretty as your face?”

Dean slowly turns and places his hands on her shoulders. “You’re gonna get us into trouble.”

“C’mon, Dean.”

He tilts his head, searching her dark eyes and lifting her chin with a thumb and forefinger. “How d’you know my name?”

She laughs; it’s practiced and sensual. “Everyone with a pulse in this place knows your name, Dean. I’m Constance.”

She reaches for his other hand and slides it into the loosened top of her dress. Saliva pools in his mouth as she closes his fingers around her bare, heavy breast.

He moans and dips in to kiss her mouth, jaw, and throat, then slides his hand into her dark locks. She feels so good — familiar and welcoming. He wants to rip into her, to be on his knees with his face in her cunt, to feel her throbbing heat.

“Did you make yourself come, watchin’ me?” Dean walks her backward into the dark, quiet kitchen.

“Uh-huh.” She slides her hand down and wraps her fingers around the growing bulge in his pants. “Fuck, I want this inside me.”

Dean’s mind races with how exactly Billie defines fraternizing. What if he fucks her standing up? What if he just fingers her or tastes her? God, he wants to taste her.

But he knows what happens if they get caught.

Before he can further hypothesize, the kitchen lights are glaring. Dean breaks away from her hot curves, and she gasps.

“Hey! There you two are!" Gabe grins like a game show host, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. In fact, he looks terrified. "We’re watchin’ Titanic. You should join. We’ve got a pool goin’ — could Jack fit on that door or not?”

Dean huffs a laugh and pushes his hand through his hair. “Damn, I do love Kate and Leo.” He doesn't look at Comstance when he wipes his mouth with a wince. He stopped wearing the arm sling, but that doesn’t mean his shoulder’s completely healed.

He exits the kitchen quickly, with Gabe on his heels and Constance calling his name in the distance.

“Uh, you’re welcome,” Gabe mutters when he catches up to Dean’s retreat.

Dean sighs and tosses Gabe a look of appreciation. “Thanks, man.”

“That Constance Welch, what a fuckin’ menace,” Gabe cracks as they round the corner to the TV room, and Dean busts out a genuine laugh.

Chapter 5

Please let me know what you think!

Series Masterlist

MJ’s Masterlist

#au dean winchester #dean winchester is saved

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whilereadingandwalking · 20 days

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So deeply not ready for this trip to go over. This was a dream trip years and years in the making, and it lived up to and surpassed all its expectations. (For one, we were not attacked by any spiders.) Post-trip depression is so real! What do you mean I have to go back to real life?? At least I’ll see my precious soft cat at the end of these long, long flights.

#bookworm #wanderlust #travel post #travel blog #bookstagram #reading while wandering #reading while wandering australia

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allylikethecat · 4 months

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January OTP Prompts

Remember when I said yesterday's prompt was the hardest one for me to write and the words just weren't wording? I lied, this one was the hardest to write and the words REALLY were not wording. I am not happy with it, but alas I want to go back to reading my new book so here it is, it all it's subpar glory. I'm proud of myself for finishing it though, and sticking to my goal so far for 2024! ❤️

9. Slippers

George always ran hot. He was happy to wander around in a tee shirt and jeans while Matty was required to be bundled up in at least two layers and a scarf. He would then still complain that he was cold. Luckily, George was always happy to share his warmth with Matty, tucking him into his side, with an arm wrapped around his shoulders. However, despite being Matty’s own personal space heater, George had the coldest toes of any partner Matty had ever shared a bed with. He would lounge around their shared home in nothing but boxer shorts and wool socks, complaining on even the hottest of days that his feet were freezing, jamming his toes under Matty’s thigh when they sat on the sofa, causing him to squawk with outrage.

Matty had gotten him a pair of slippers for Christmas two years ago, feeling silly as he ordered them off the Ugg Australia website. He wanted to get George something useful, something thoughtful and was worried that he would think the slippers were silly, or not enough. But George’s face had lit up when he unwrapped them, a grin on his face and tears in his eyes as he pulled Matty into his arms, pressing a kiss to the side of his head in thanks. The slippers became the most important item in George’s wardrobe, worn constantly at home, and a must bring when he packed for tour.

Which was why it was so shocking, so distressing to George that he had forgotten them at home when packing for a month in the countryside with the boys. They had rented a house in the middle of nowhere, just the four of them, reconnecting with their roots as they worked to write and record their sixth album. He had planned to pack his slippers last, he had been wearing them as he filled his suitcase with jeans and tee shirts and joggers and sweatshirts that Matty would inevitably steal. He had then slipped off his slippers and shoved his feet into a pair of trainers and brought his bag out to the car, he had then gone back into the house to get Matty’s as well when he realized that he had left it sitting in the kitchen, getting distracted on his way out to the car.

George always gave Matty a hard time for being forgetful, like nearly leaving for a month with no luggage at all, teasing him that he would forget his head if it wasn’t attached to his body. But this time it was George who had forgotten something. He could clearly picture his slippers sitting in the front hall by the door where he had kicked them off. His toes were freezing and he was beyond frustrated with himself. How was he supposed to record an album with cold feet?!

Matty had just scoffed when he had complained. “Babe,” said Matty slowly, like he was talking to a child, “why don’t you just order another pair on Amazon.”

Day: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

#allylikethecat #January OTP Prompts #matty fic #gatty #fanfic #keep it kind #prompts #prompt fills #prompt fill #ugh i just idk whats wrong with me #the words have not been wording the last few days #and im not very happy at all with how this prompt came out #but i dont know what else to do with it #and i want to go read my new book #so its getting posted #feel free to ignore this one #and go read the new ducklings chapter instead #i do like the new ducklings chapter lol #thank you for always being so supportive and lovely and kind though! i really appreciate it

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izzystradliniscute · 6 months

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Izzy Stradlin magazine interview-Kerrang #421

IZZY STRADLIN's out on his first solo tour since quitting Guns N' Roses, and he's finding out that without his erm, unpredictable former collegues, gigging, and living, is easy. Backed by a mellow, cool and rockin' band, Izzy hits the UK this week. PAUL ELLIOTT hits Bonn, to find our hero wandering around a hotel lobby... wearing a parka!

JUST A few days after Axl Rose was found guilty of assaulting a fan at a Guns N' Roses concert which subsequently ended in a riot, former GN'R guitarist Izzy Stradlin walks freely through a hotel lobby in Bonn, Germany's capital. Nobody hassles him, snaps a photograph or picks a fight. Even GN'R fans might struggle to recognize the dreadlocked Stradlin in his new parka coat. There's just Izzy, no bodyguards or crowds. Izzy Stradlin couldn't be happier about walking out on the biggest rock'n'roll band in the world. Later that day, onstage with his new band Ju Ju Hounds in a Bonn hall a little bigger than the Marquee, Stradlin looks relaxed even though he's still getting to grips with the role of frontman. And he smiles now and then, something he didn't do too much of during the last of his six years with Guns N' Roses. At Wembley Stadium in September of 1991, Stradlin stuck close to his backline while Axl howled and buzzed around like a dog chasing its own tail. When Guns' set finished, Izzy was first out of sight. In Bonn, he talks to the crowd in their native tongue and clearly relishes playing and sharing jokes with the 'Hounds. "It's cool," he says, "real cool. These gigs have been more exciting than doing the stadiums with GN'R on the last tour. All the people are right there - it's an instant, spontaneous response, y'know? it feels real good." The gigs are of course more low-key than Guns N' Roses' controversial 'Get In The Ring' shows, which is just the way Izzy likes it. "There's less drama, which I prefer. It's kinda nice, y'know, being able to make plans. It's nice not to get phone calls like, 'This gig's cancelled, your drummer just took off'! These new guys carry on, but put it this way, we don't have any babysitters - so if you're gonna drink, you gotta get your shit together and get to the bus on time. "The first year of getting sober, I got used to watching my friends drink and snort. I haven't been around it lately."

SINCE IZZY hasn't touched alcohol for three years, Ju Ju Hounds drummer Charlie Quintana retires to his room to drink a bottle of cognac. The Ju Ju Hounds are wiser than most rock'n'roll bands. Guitarist Rick Richards plied his trade with the Georgia Satellites for many years, until they lost their record deal and split. Richards was the working the bars of his native Atlanta when he got the call from Izzy. he looks like he's seen it all, and spins a great yarn over dinner. Rick also plays a mean slide, and is in many ways the star of the show, knocking out great leads with the obligatory cigarette stuck to his bottom lip. Rock'n'roll is in Rick Richards' blood. Charlie has toured with Bob Dylan and enjoys winding up the fans waiting outside the Bonn gig by jumping behind the wheel of the tour bus and threatening to run punters over, yelling, "I don't need a licence - I'm from Texas"! Jimmy 'Two Fingers' Ashhurst (Which two fingers, you may wonder. "It depends!") used to play bass for the Broken Homes, and was the first person Izzy turned to when he was putting the band and the brilliant '...Ju Ju Hounds' album together. Jimmy seems to be laughing most of the time, although he wasn't laughing when he read Bret Easton Ellis' 'American Psycho' recently!

CURRENTLY, THE Ju Ju Hounds' live set includes several covers; The Rolling Stones' 'Jiving Sister Fanny', The Faces' 'My Fault', The Maytals' 'Pressure Drop', of course... but no Guns N' Roses songs. "No," Izzy shrugs. "In Australia, there was a guy in just about every front row yelling

for 'Dust N' Bones' or something, and I'm hitting a chord every time they shout, going, 'What?!.' "I can understand people wanting to hear that stuff - we were gonna rehearse some songs - but in GN'R, I didn't have any singles out. I wrote 'Patience' but I didn't sing it. We just figured, 'Fuck it'." "I don't miss those GN'R songs cos the stuff we've got now is better - better written, better to play. It's totally freeform; we break things down, extend them. If I come in late on a verse or miss it, we'll just look at each other and Rick'll keep going, do a solo or something. "It's real good; once the momentum's there, whatever happens, happens. Last night, I couldn't see the set-list and started two songs wrong. We can sound bad! "In Stockholm, we started with 'Bucket O' Trouble' and everyone was in a different fucking key, man! After the first few bars you could feel your stomach turning; it was bad. I was looking over thinking, I don't know who's in the right key, but when we came to the verse, somehow everybody went back to the right key, the A. It was just one of those things. Rick's going, 'Maybe we should just do that every night, start it out all fucked-up and then click into the A!'. It happens. You gotta flow with it."

NOW YOU'RE back on the road, do you miss the drug high, or the buzz of being in GN'R? "Well, in GN'R I wasn't singing, I wasn't fronting the band, which is a little different. So now, carrying the vocals for most of the set as well as playing has pretty much replaced the buzz. "Even if you're tired, a crowd can lift you up; you feed on that energy. And when we're not touring, dirtbikes are my fix. When we went back to Indiana for a week off, it was 15 degrees outside, cold, but I rode the bikes with my dog Treader chasing me all over fields and shit! That makes me feel good again, cos when I got back from Australia, where I picked up that flu virus, I was pretty haggard. Riding bikes beats sitting around doing krell or something." 'Krell' is rocker slang for cocaine, inspired by the movie 'Heavy Metal', in which long-trunked monsters from the planet Krell descended to snort the Earth! " A lot of the time when I was using (drugs), I'd just end up with a guitar, writing or recording some pretty depressing songs. I thought they were good at the time, and a couple are not too bad, but a lot of the shit I listen back to and think, ugh, that's fucking depressing, or I think of the state I must have been in; lips all cracked, been up for five days, voice gone. Once you got doing you'd never stop. "I could stay up for four or five days straight doing krell and smack or whatever, up and down up and down, writing songs all the time and recording on my eight-track. But give me a bottle of whisky and send me to a club one night, and I'm the guy in the alley throwing up and rolling around. "It just didn't work; it just poisons me and I don't know why. I got Indian blood, and my mom says that's why I can't handle liquor, but it's still a thing I did for a long time. Everybody drinks around me now, but it doesn't bother me. I mean, I don't see these guys throwing up in alleys after gigs or falling down steps. "Most people drink, and for them it's no big deal, but it fucked me up. Now when I look at it, there's like tour life and civilian life. I try to keep two different realities. "When I stopped using, for the first few months I didn't sleep normal for a long time. Somebody told me it takes about a year for your body patterns to get back to normal. I sleep good now."

DID YOU at any point continue using drugs simply to feed the creative process? "Yeah, but there were times when I'd been up for three days working on a song and it still wasn't finished! I heard this one song back, and I'd done, God, five guitar tracks on it, and two or three of the tracks were the same melody played on just one string. And I heard this shit back and I was going, 'Garbage', y'know? "When GN'R did 'Appetite For Destruction', I hadn't really cleaned up, but I'd cleaned up enough to record during the day, then go out at night and drink and do krell and stuff, sleep in till noon, come back in and record. So during the actual recording I wasn't getting too wasted. "For the 'Use Your Illusion' albums, I was sober doing those tracks, and it was just frustrating. When you're sober and you gotta be someplace at four, and when other people come in at six or seven, and they're, like, not quite together, you find yourself thinking, why the fuck was I here at four? "For the basic tracks on 'Illusions', I was done with my stuff in about four or five weeks. That was easy. "For the new record, me and Jimmy and Rick and Charlie would be in the studio at noon, so by one o'clock the amps were warmed up and cranckin' and we were jammin', and after jammin' for a coupla hours we'd start tracking. We finished up the whole thing, including moving base three times from LA to Chicago to Copenhagen, in four or five months, and we had an album which to me rocks as good as any of the stuff I did with GN'R. "That wouldn't have happened like it did had I still been using and all that stuff, but at the same time there have been some songs that came out pretty quickly when I was using; sometimes they come out easy."

'APPETITE FOR Destruction', arguably the hard rock record of the '80s, changed Izzy Stradlin's life irrevocably. Izzy's recollections of the album and GN'R's rise to superstar status are hazy. It is, after all, five years since the album was released, and Izzy's hard drug intake at the time was pretty fucking serious! "I'm real bad at remembering songs, even ones I've done," he chuckles. " 'Paradise City', 'Sweet Child O' Mine'. That was a point where we were on tour with Aerosmith, and David Geffen (founder of GN'R's label) flew out to a gig and he says, 'You guys are rich and famous now'. And we were like, ''We are?! We're still living in a tour bus and in hotels, so what's the difference?'. "I haven't heard 'Appetite...' in years, but I was pretty happy with what it sounded like back then, and fuck, it sold millions of copies, man! "With 'Appetite', I just think of seven or eight months of absolutely no notoriety or any real popularity, and then a few Number One singles, and this explosion, and now you're a pop star. "Well, fuck this, gimme a six pack and a gram of coke and gram of smack and I'll go write some more songs! Isolation was the next point from there. It was great, but it was a load of bullshit being a pop star, so we just isolated ourselves and ignored that crap. After a few months of isolation, that didn't work either. It was time to go back to the Mid-West and hook up some old friends..."

So Izzy quit GN'R for peace of mind, and wound up forming the coolest rock'n'roll band in the world that ain't the Black Crowes.

#izzy stradlin #izzy #wheres izzy

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christopher-bangnaldoskzz · 2 years

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HI DADDY - 5

Chan x Reader Female

Genre:🌶️

Word count: 2.5k

Summary: You fell pregnant at 18 to your high school crush. what happens when 6 years later he returns. Will everything work out or will it be a disaster.

Trigger warning: please remember this is a fiction and the characters are just that fictional. If you are sensitive to swearing or sexual content please do not read my stories… other then that please enjoy.

Chan had to go back to work leaving you with lots of time to wander the city. It's like you could see yourself living here, taking Luca to see Chris at work.

“Y/N….. my man Luca what brought you to here?" it’s Ji-hoon, he smiled as he knelt down to pick Luca up.

“Luca wanted to see where magic happens." You smiled. It was an excellent excuse to see Chris.

We walked down the hall to Chris’s office. Chris came out of his office with two girls who were clearly flirting with him.

One of the people laughed at what I assume he said. "He's honestly not that funny” I said under my breath.

“Mr Bang" Ji-hoon called to him. His face froze as he realized that you had just witnessed another idol flirt with him.

“Shit” you could see his mouth lip on the word.

The girls follow him over to Ji-hoon, they link arms with him. You take a deep breath and you realise that you cannot say anything. This was Chris’s place of work and no one knew he was your partner or Luca was his son.

Chris immediately unlinked his arms. "Hello, Luca", he knelt down and hugged. Luca was smart and you didn’t hide anything from him. Luca knew we had to keep our family secret.

“Girls this is my friend from Australia Y/N….. and this right here is Luca” he ruffled his hair.

You smiled “hi it is a pleasure to meet you” the girls looked at you awkwardly.

“Well we will leave you too," they giggled and started to walk away. You death glared at him.

“Yeah okay I’ll see yah around” he picked Luca up and paid no attention to them.

Ji-hoon excused himself and walked down the hallway. As Chris looked at you holding Luca, you raised your eyebrows and said, "I get you mad."

As you are about to say something, Felix walks down the hallway. "Hey guys…. oh, is that my favourite little human?" He smiles and hugged Luca.

"Actually, Felix…. Could you take Luca to the practice room? I just want a minute alone with Y/N" Felix grabs Luca and takes him away.

"Let's talk in my studio…. it's soundproof." You walk with him into the studio, and he shuts the door.

"I can explain," he blurted out. Honestly, you were furious, but you were not intending to make it a big deal.

"Come on" you sat on his couch.

"I get they flirted with me…. but I did not reciprocate, "you believed him. You trust Chris.

"I believe you….but if those girls ever touch you again, I'll rip their hair out of their heads, understand." His eyes widen, and he nods aggressively. You lean in and kiss his lip to remind him he's yours.

"Yes, ma'am", he nodded his head in agreement.

"Now I am hungry. Is there a place to eat here?" you smile and change the subject.

"We can order something" Chris said while his hand rubbed your lower back.

"What are you doing?" you asked, smiling as you looked up at him.

"Look at how beautiful you are!" He pulled you into his embrace. "Can I kiss you?" It made you gitty that he still asked permission.

You lean up and kiss his lips. His hand cups your face. This kiss wasn't like any other. It was slow and soft.

"Please never leave me", he whispered as you pulled away. His eyes are still closed and your heart flutters.

"I will never leave you."

………….

You and Chan had to be careful. You couldn't live together or venture anywhere. Your relationship was contained in the apartment. Only the boys knew about it. They were happy. But that was all about to change.

You were at the supermarket when Chan called.

"Hey, you," you said happily.

"Yeah, we need to talk. When are you returning to your apartment?" he asked in a frenzy.

"Everything okay?" You were concerned

"When are you coming here?" he asked.

"Umm, I can be there in about 5 minutes."

"Okay cool", and he hung up.

…..

You honestly thought he might be in a mood, so you returned to the apartment. When you walked in, he was sitting on the couch.

"Hey, are you hungry? Did you want something to eat?" You unpacked the groceries.

"What is this?" he asked, pushing his phone towards you.

"What the fuck is this? Is this us?" You were shocked.

"You tell me?" He clenched his jaw

"What do you mean? You think I did this?" You took a step back.

"If not you, then who?" "God, my mum was so right about you…. You are just in it for my money… do you have any idea what you have just done?" he looks down and has his hands on his knees.

"What are you talking about?" I didn't do anything. Maybe we weren't as careful as we thought. All I know is that it isn't me."

"Then it's Sarah because my boys would never" he gripped his knees.

"Hold up… don't you fucken dare… you have no idea what the last six years have been like…Sarah has been there for your son and me, so if you want to talk about loyalty, then look within your own family because she would never, and neither would I."

"Bullshit, you just want money. Why else would you wait this long to tell me about Luca?"

"Oh…. You want to go there? Huh…. Okay... let's see if you want my humble opinion. I would ask your mum. She would know."

"What does that mean… you're blaming my mum…. ha that's low even for you."

“Hahahah omg seriously…. Let me tell you…. You want to know why it took me 6 years to say this to you… why don't you ask your mum Chris? Oh, bet she would never inform you that she knew this whole time about Luca and never shared it with you. That's right, I told her, and she gave me $100,000 to not say a god damn thing to you."

He was shocked. "I don't believe you," he cried.

You pulled out your phone and showed him the account you had created for Luca. "See 100,000 in this account… do you still need your stupid money?"

"I don't believe you," he said in tears.

"Then you can get the fuck out because I'm done with you", You screamed and pointed to the door.

"You're done with me…. You have fucked up my career….my life…I can't stand you right now."

"Good fuck you…. I hate who you've become… so get the fuck out of my apartment," you said, leaning in his face.

"Fine," he said as he slammed the door.

…..

Sarah, Changbin and Luca walk in.

"Hey, everything is okay.... We just saw Chris leave. He looked upset," Sarah said

"Well, fuck that cunt… he's a dick," You said as you walked into the bedroom and slammed the door.

Sarah walked in, and you told her what had happened. Sarah was so angry that he thought you both would do something stupid like go to the media after everything.

"I'm going to kick his ass," Sarah said "how fucken dare he accuse me of that… I took care of his baby… I spent my hard-earned money on his kid… we have struggled for years while he has had his whole life fucken handed to him."

"Don't worry, his sense of entitlement baffles me too," you agreed.

…..

A couple of weeks passed by, and Ji-hoon came over to check on Luca and take him to Chan.

He would always be pleasant, he apologized for Chan. Changbin sometimes came as well, but Ji-hoon this time.

"Hi", you answered the door.

His smile spread across his face as he said, "Where is the little man?".

"Oh, come in. He's just getting ready." You point to the room.

"Okay, sweetie", he said as he sat at the counter while you tried to reach for the glasses. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your lower back and a hand reaching up above your head for a drink. It felt really awkward because he was chans manager.

"Here you go", he smiled as he ran his hand up your back to your shoulders. You just froze, indeed. He didn't mean it in the way you took it. You just turned around and said, "Luca, your uncle is here to get you."

"Okay…. Hey uncle Ji-hoon… reckon we could watch The Godfather tonight" he smiled.

"Uhhh, we better ask you, dad" he smiled and put his hand behind his head.

"Your no fun," he said, grabbing his bag. Ji-hoon and Luca walked out the door, and Sarah came out of Lucas's room.

"Sarah," I said

"Yeah… what's up?"

"I think Ji-hoon is hitting on me."

She laughed "what makes you think that?"

"Allow me to demonstrate", and you re-enacted what he did.

"Y/N, I think he is a bit sus."

"Okay, thank you…. Because I thought I was losing it."

"Y/N, do you think he might have had something to do with the media?"

"No, he wouldn't do that to Chris."

"Yeah, but he also shouldn't touch Chris' ex."

……

Changbin texted me saying Chris, Ji-hoon and himself were coming to pick up Luca at the water park.

You were getting Luca ready when you heard a knock. Luca answered the door, and Chan hugged him.

"Do you have your stuff, little man?" He smiled.

"I'm just packing his bag," you say as you walk into his room.

"I'll help… it will be quicker," Ji-noon said, grabbing Luca's bag. You put on an extra pair of clothes, and suddenly, you felt a different body on your back. A hand came over your shoulder with a towel. You stepped to the side and grabbed the towel.

"Thank you…. All done" he grabbed the bag, put his hand on your hip, and shifted you to the side.

"All good, thanks. We will be back at five," he said, swinging the backpack over his shoulder.

……

You decided to take some time for yourself, with no child to worry about. You like co-parenting. A couple of hours passed by, and you watched the whole season of my dress up darling.

Ring ring

"Hello", you answer without looking at who called.

"Hello….is this miss Y/L/N?" this strange man said on the other line.

"Yes, that's it," you tell yourself as you remove the phone to check the caller ID.

"We have Luca here with us at the front desk of the water park" you must be kidding me. Those three idiots lost him.

"Sorry, I'm not sure why you are calling me. Luca is meant to be with his dad" how did this man get your number?

"Yes, ma'am, I know. Unfortunately, Luca only knows your number" you are so grateful.

"Those fucking idiots…… I'll be there in 20 minutes", you were frantically picking up your car keys.

You speed towards the water park. Once you arrive and park the car, you run to the entrance.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" the lady at the front said.

"My son Luca…is he still here?" you are breathless.

"Miss Y/L/N", a man walked out from the back.

"Yes, that's me… where's Luca?" he opens the door for you to come inside.

"Just this way", you walk with the man into this Nicely air-conditioned

The room is filled with toys and anything you could think of to keep kids entertained.

"Luca, omg…. Luca," you smiled. Any fear and anxiety you had coming into this was eliminated. He was eating pizza and colouring in.

"Have you contacted his father yet?" the man asked.

You forgot to tell Chris, "I'll call him now" and that's when you got an idea.

"Hey Chris, how's it going?" you asked, pretending not to know his dirty secret.

"Oh yeah, it's umm swell," he said. You could tell he was panicking.

"Luca there?" He pulsed for a minute.

Now the asshole is lying to you about it "He's in with Changbin.".

"Oh really, because I just got a call from some guy saying they have Luca at the front desk" game has ended.

"Guys, they found him" you could hear the muffled words.

"Y/N, I can explain" you could hear him running.

"Just go and get my son Chris," you replied.

You turn around and head to Luca. "Hi baby", you say, bending down.

"Hi mummy", he said with a cute smile.

……

"Hi, I'm Luca's dad", you heard outside.

"Uh yes, come on through, sir" Chris, Changbin and Jihoon all walked through the door.

"YOU FUCKING IDIOT" you walked up and pinched his arm.

"Ouch…you didn't have to pinch me," Chris said, rubbing his arm. You pinch him again.

"You lost my son…. you’re lucky I'm only pinching you", the two other boys laughed.

You walk up to them and flick each on the forehead.

"Ouch," they both said.

"Are you three stupid or what? Not one of you could keep my baby safe?"

They all stood there with their heads down. "you......you lied to me", you said, pinching Chris again.

"Ouch, stop pinching me…let me explain… we went through a big crowd, and he let go of my hand, okay?" he said, rubbing his arm.

"Yeah, we looked all over for him", Changbin added.

"Well, Changbin, and I did….Chris just cried," Ji-hoon said. Now you can see it, his eyes are red and puffy, his nose is sniffling.

"I'm sorry for pinching you…I forgot he's your son as well" you rub the spot you pinched.

Chris lifted his head to look at you. He pulled you in for a hug. You ran your fingers through his hair. He placed his head on your neck. It had been 3 weeks since your breakup, and you missed him.

"I'm sorry", he sniffled.

You are confused. Did he apologize for Luca or for everything?

"It's okay, Luca is safe" he exclaims.

"Sorry, I keep getting emotional" he wiped his tears.

"Luca, come on, baby, let's go home, yay," Chris said, putting out his hand.

Luca gets up and walks over to hold Chris's hand. Jihoon gives Chris a look, and he turns around and looks at you again. "We will go first. You stay here" he walks out with Luca.

Maybe nothing has changed. He ignores you. How could he still think you would hurt him?

You drive home alone and silently. When you get back to the apartment, Luca runs to you a squeezes you tight.

"Hey Y/N", Sarah came out of her room.

"He hates me," you sobbed.

"Who hates you?" she asked as she approached you and rubbed your back.

"Chris, he hates me", you cry into her shoulder.

"I'm sure he doesn't hate you."

193 notes · View notes

faegoddessog · 10 months

Text

Seventy Two Hours of Bliss Ch. 33/41

Chapter 33: Overwhelm in the Stars

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, fellatio, fingering, forced orgasm, unprotected PiV( play safy ya'll )

Series Masterlist

Series Summary:

You are neighbors with Austin Butler on the Gold Coast of Australia just prior to shooting Elvis. You become just friends because he is taken. However, after he is single again, you both find out just how attracted you are to one another and things get unrelentingly hot.

SERIES WARNING: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, here there be lemons.

Authors Notes: I started writing this while remodeling my kitchen, so that informed the slightly quirky narrative. It starts slow, but once it heats up, it is on fire. I have tried to pull facts from RL as much as I could, but obviously there are some assumptions and flat out dreamy wishes involved here.

Chapter 33: Overwhelm in the Stars

Special thanks to @purejasmine who partially inspired the action in this Chapter!

April turns into May and temperatures start to drop. Which you find bizarre being from the northern hemisphere. But as long as you don’t think about the month, the fall is quite lovely and mild. Restrictions ease, Austin takes to walking the beach, listening to Elvis in his headphones. Sometimes you go with him, holding hands on the relatively deserted beaches. You like to find a spot to paint or read while he wanders for a couple hours. It always makes you giggle to see people’s reaction to him when he is practicing Elvis’ words or sounds. The best one by far was Elvis’ laughter. He was on his way back to you, laughing, stopping, listening, laughing again. As you watched, one guy with a surfboard walked by him, then turned around and gave him the funniest look. You just cracked up, Austin barely noticed at the time, but turned red when you told him about it.

Even though the situation is a bit scary and tedious at times, it has been kind of magical to have Austin all to yourself. Well, you share him with Elvis, but that doesn’t really bother you. Honestly it’s good that he has something to focus on.

You begin to email and text with Rita about her kitchen in Greece, getting roughly sketched floor plans and pictures and researching potential materials and construction regulations for the area. You enjoy planning and sketching all old school with graph paper, cuz you got nuthin’ but time!

June rolls in and, like the rest of the world, you are starting to get restless with the sameness of every day. He still wakes up early, still asks to slide into you often. Sex has been nice, but routine.

He comes out of his office room early one afternoon and firmly shuts the door.

“Kitten, I need a break.” he says seriously, knife-handing for emphasis.

You look up at him from the couch where you are reading a book with big eyes. Does he mean from you? from Elvis? What did you do? What did you not do? What is happening? Your heart is beating in your ears. Why the fuck are you reacting this way?

“I uh… Oh… Okay,” your voice stammers, frightened. Be cool, you said no hard feelings, shit, shit, shit.

“Don’t let me go in that room for like a week,” he says, rubbing his eyes, head down. He has not noticed your panicked reaction.

You feel like a deer in headlights, it takes a few seconds to understand what he said.

He blinks down at you, probably expecting some kind of reaction.

“OH!” you let out a shuddering breath you didn’t realize you were holding, hand partially covering your face, “I thought…. ” your voice sounds so small.

He looks at you in confusion, then realization dawns on his face.

“Oh baby no! Shit I’m sorry hunny! Not from you, not from us, from Elvis!” He closes the gap between you in two long strides, sitting down next to you and pulling you close to him. Tears you didn’t know were holding in spill out.

“I don't want to do this without you, baby,” he strokes your hair as you bury your face in his chest. ”No, no we are good…. Are we good?” he asks, suddenly looking down into his chest at you.

“Stupid inadequacy issues,” you puff out, shaking your head. You look up at his concerned face, with tear streaked cheeks and sniff.

“Oh Kitten, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking. That’s what I mean, I’ve not been thinking about anything other than Elvis for too long. And you’ve been amazing and I’ve just been obsessed. That’s what I need a break from,” his words tumble out, trying to reassure you. His thumb wipes away your tears, he kisses your forehead.

You take a big breath in, blowing it out, nodding your head. Apparently, you hadn't realized how deeply intertwined you two have become, when just the passing idea of him leaving brings you to tears. You are more upset that it affected you like this than you are about the misunderstanding.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I immediately jumped to that conclusion. This whole lockdown thing has me all….” you stick your tongue out to the side and roll your eyes. You look in each other's eyes for the space of two heartbeats. You start sniggering at your own ridiculousness, holding your hand over your mouth. He chuckles and shakes his head, holding you to his chest.

“Oh Kitten, I love you. I feel like I’ve been neglecting you and you’ve been so patient and caring,” he says, “and don’t tell me I’ve not been, cuz it’s how I feel. ”

“Ok,” you say simply.

“I wish I could take you out on a date, or lavish you with gifts or do something big for you right now,” he laments, his fingers rubbing on your forearm.

“Austin, gifts and dates and grand gestures are nice,” you assure him, “but I don’t need them. What I really could use is just some you right now, plain and simple.”

“You got it, Kitten,” he says, tilting your chin up to his mouth. His kiss is sweet and simple and present. You melt into him.

You sit, cuddled up on him for a bit, he is rubbing in long strokes up and down your back.

“How about we get out of here tonight,” he says.

“Ok, where though?” you ponder.

“Let’s pack some food and bring blankets and stuff and just drive until we can see the stars, we just can’t cross the border,” he suggests.

“Yes! I fucking love the stars! Let’s do it!” you sit up, excited for the first time in weeks, and throw your arms around his neck, kissing him hard.

Austin makes PBJ’s and packs some random food into a cooler. You gather pillows and blankets, toothbrushes and a quick change of clothes for both of you. You come out from the 2nd bedroom triumphantly holding a big thermos up high. Austin is filling water bottles and you start heating water to make some hot chocolate. The excitement in the air is palpable.

Thirty minutes later you are pulling out from the underground garage, Austin sitting in the seat next to you for the first time, instead of hiding. Who the fuck cares now anyway, plus no one is hanging around outside anymore anyway.

You insist on using your own non-Elvis playlists for music, Austin agrees, he really does need the break.

You drive west for almost two hours. It is marvelous and freeing to get away. No plan, just driving.

The sun is getting low as you pull up to a picnic area next to Lake Moogerah that is scattered with pavilions. You find one next to the lake and cuddle together on the picnic table, munching on PBJ’s and watching the sunset. You hear some crunching on the gravel behind you. You turn around to see a lady walking her dog towards you.

“G’day, beaut of a sunset yeah?” she says, stopping about 10 feet from you guys.

“Yeah it really is” Austin says.

“Oh yanks are ya, well ya know ya can't park overnight here. Do ya have a place to stay?" she inquires.

"Oh, no we didn’t know, thank you,” Austin is always so polite, ”we might just drive back to the city later, unless you have any suggestions.”

“I have a glampin’ tent just up the road there that’s vacant. It has a heatah and access to the bathroom in the main house, has a queen bed and a minibah. We just got the go ahead to open today. So it’s yours if you want it.”

Austin looks at you eyebrows raised. You are already nodding.

“We’ll be up after sunset then,” he says. She gives you directions and says she’ll meet you there in a half hour.

The tent is amazing. It’s set up just in front of a huge Queenslander rental house, which is where your bathroom is. It opens up to a gorgeous view of the lake and mountains. It is much larger than you expected, clean, warm and comfortable. It has a stocked snack and mini fridge bar and a coffee maker. There are little fairy lights hung inside for soft lighting. There is no one renting the main house tonight, so you can make it really dark for stargazing.

It’s not that cold out, just a chill in the air. Your sweatshirt would suffice, the blankets are just to make it cozier. Austin pulls out the hot chocolate and you snuggle up with your blankets and pillows to watch the stars, sipping the sweet hot liquid.

It’s so odd, because you grew up stargazing with your family, and these are definitely not your stars. You feel like you are on another planet. You open your phone app that helps you find constellations. It is magical, just being together under the stars, feeling so small in the universe, yet also expansive.

You are nerding out, finding several of the southern constellations including the southern cross and Canis major. Trying to point them out to Austin.

“Why does that one look so damn familiar?” you are pointing up. You hold up the phone above your head

“I’m a goofy silly girl! It’s fucking Orion, just upside down! My daddy always said heaven was in the middle star of his belt, see?” you point up then look over at Austin. He is just staring at you with soft eyes in the red glow of the phone.

“I think it’s closer than that,” he says to you.

Your heart swells, then melts.

Like the opposite poles of a magnet your lips are drawn together. Your leg swings up and over his body, bringing your blankets with you. Straddling him on his chair, kissing, hips pressed together. For a few minutes you are just teenagers making out, dry humping on the porch because your parents won’t let you be alone inside. You can feel his bulge through the double layers of jeans.

He pushes you away just a little and reaches down to readjust his hardening cock. The nice thing is, you are not teenagers and no one is trying to restrict your access to this gorgeous man and his willingness to fuck the daylights out of you.

“Why don’t you get that out for me,” you whisper in his ear.

You duck down, between his legs, as he undoes his fly and pulls himself out, lowering his pants down his hips just a little.

While he is doing that, you undo your own jeans under the blankets and manage to wiggle out of them, leaving your soft, stretchy undies on.

Holding him upright, you trace designs with your tongue on his shaft and up to his tip. You lick your lips under the dark blanket. Placing your tongue on the top, you use your lips to massage his tip. Retracting your tongue into your mouth and closing your lips around him, then dragging along his head as you push him out with your tongue. Saliva drips from your lower lip every time you push him out. You hear him groaning on the outside of the covers. You push him in deep, slurping up all the spit you dribbled along his shaft. You ride him with your mouth for a dozen strokes or so.

Then you emerge from under the blankets, kissing him with your wet sloppy mouth. You straddle him again, just below his now hard and exposed cock. His hands land on your bare thighs.

“When did that happen?” he asks, indicating your pants-less state.

“When you were distracted,” you smile.

“Well you are distracting,” he rubs you through the crotch of your panties, soaking your wetness through. He slips his fingers under the fabric, then pulls it aside, dipping his fingers into you.

“Mmmmmmm” a slow lazy moan falls from you.

“Oh Kitten, I’m so sorry I've been neglecting you. I’m gonna make it up to you, promise,” he says, his forehead pressed to yours.

“Austin, you don’t…” you start, but he interrupts you with a kiss and his fingers running circles around your pussy. Fore and middle fingers around your opening, pinky and ring fingers brushing your clit.

It shuts you right up because it feels amazing. Your hips drop forward toward his hand.

“Oh mon Roi, that feels good,” you murmur into his mouth.

His other hand drifts up your shirt and around your back, undoing your bra deftly. His cool fingers trace around to the front. You gasp through your nose since he was still occupying your mouth with his tongue. He rubs along the line where your bra was tight, heightening the sensations that much more. He massages your breast, nipple caught in the crux of his fingers, sending a needle like zing to your core. Still his other hand is steadily working your pussy. The familiar warm glow is building just behind your mons. You lift up, reaching for his cock to slide him into you. He sits up a bit, pulling his hips and mouth away from you.

“Oh no, baby, this is just about you right now,” he says, “look up when you’re close, Kitten, I want you to cum in the stars.”

Damn, how is it that he makes things that could be corny, sound so damn sexy.

“Keep talking Austin, tell me dirty things,” you moan. Your hands are on his shoulders, holding on. You realize there is more light now, the moon is beginning to light up the sky, threatening to rise over the mountains.

“God, I love seeing you worked up just from my fingers playing with your cunt,” his deep voice draws out that last, filthy word, enunciating the /t/.

“I love your long gorgeous fingers,” you moan, eyes fluttering shut.

“Yeah? Do you want them inside you?” he almost whispers.

“Uh huh,’ you bite your lip, nodding.

“You want t’ cum on them?” he asks low, licking his lips.

“Please, yes,” you would do anything to have him inside you right now.

He starts pulsing the two fingers at your slit, but not going in. It’s driving you crazy. You try to grind yourself onto them with a closed-mouth pouting moan, but he won’t let you.

“Ah ah ah, baby. Just wait,” he admonishes you.

Pulling his fingers away and bringing them up to his mouth, he licks a long line between his fingers. You watch him like you are lost in the desert and he is the only water. You find yourself diving forward as his tongue reaches his fingertips. You press your open mouth partially to his upper lip, partially to his fingers, your tongues meet and play between his two digits, tasting of your slick. His fingers slide away and you keep kissing him, your hands on his face. You feel him sliding under your panties and along your labia again, wet from both your tongues.

He resumes his pulsing against your opening, still refusing to enter you.

He is pinching your other nipple, mimicking his pulses at the same rate.

You pull away from his face, head tilted up in a pouting whine to the sky. You are trying to be patient, trying to wait, but your body wants him inside you. Your hips rock back and forth, desperate for penetration.

“Oh Kitten, so wanton, wanting me inside you any way you can get me,” he chides, still pulsing at your entrance, “and I want you too, my gorgeous little hussy,” the last he breathes into the night air.

Finally, his pulses start sinking into you, a little further with each one.

“Oh- my- fucking- god,” your voice is rough and breathy with each pulse inside you. You are staring into his eyes.

“Yes, I am your fucking god,” he slides his hand out from under your shirt and to his mouth. His eyes burning sexy, maddening holes into yours in the diffused moonlight. A hint of that dark fae around his edges.

Sticking out his tongue, he slides the pad of his thumb over it. Watching you intently, he slips his wet thumb under your panties and onto your clit with a little roguish smile. He knows how it will affect you.

“Oh god, yes, right there,” your hips are shaking under his ministrations.

His fingers are fully seated inside you now, pulsing still, thumb rubbing in little circles.

“Don’t stop,” you moan.

“Oh, I won’t,” his tone is that of promise and threat.

Moonlight spills over the top of the mountains. Silvery strands of light laying themselves upon you both.

“Your naked skin would look so amazing in the moonlight,” Austin remarks, mostly to himself.

Without a second thought, you pull your sweatshirt and shirt off over your head, your bra tangled in amongst the fabric.

“Oh baby, you’ll get cold,” he says, concerned.

“Then you better keep me w–w-w-w-arm,” you moan out as his fingers find a particularly perfect rhythm. The glow inside you is on the verge of spilling over. You lean back, your hands on his knees, head tilted up. The blankets fall back, the cool night air makes your nipples pucker and your skin pebble. But you barely notice the chill, Austin has you so hot.

“Holy Mother, you are shining, baby,” he breathes.

You move rhythmically, grinding into his hands.

“The light on your throat, on your tits. It’s like the moon herself is cumming on you,” he says.

Fuck, that is a thought you’ve never had. Hot, especially from Austin’s dirty, sexy mouth.

Each push forward into his hand is accentuated with a moaning “ah, ah, ‘ah.” Then you inhale in a gasping breath, holding it in as everything tightens, your hips vibrating against him.

“Fuck yeah Kitten, cum on my lap, cum in those stars,” he urges you on.

It starts deep in your seed center and waves up your spine in a rippling shudder. Even your eyelids shiver as you struggle to keep your eyes open and pointed up. When you finally exhale, it’s in waves. You barely make any other sound to the sky.

You jerk forward, hunched over Austin, hands on his shoulders, pulling your hips away.

“Oh no you don’t dirty girl,” he says. His hands are on your hips, pulling you back to him, “you aren't getting away from me.”

He straightens upright in order to wrap one arm around your low back, hand pressing to keep you close to him. Austin immediately takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking and flicking with his tongue. His other hand is fliplped over, palm down, between you. The backs of his first and middle fingers like snake fangs pointing down on either side of your clit. The tips of those long fingers falling against your inner labia. The sensations go deep as he pushes in and down, in and down, milking your clit. It’s such a small movement with such a big impact.

You rut into his bent knuckles, clenching and releasing your glutes, your thighs, your pelvic floor. Your eyes are squeezed tight, head bowed to his.

“Open those eyes, look up,” he says, switching to the other nipple.

You tilt back, supported by his hand on your back. You do your best to open your eyes. But as his mouth pulls hard at your nipple, you are lifted, tilted over the next edge.

“Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod,” you chant. Your eyes close and you are jerking to get your sensitive clit away from his knuckles. Of course, he won’t let you get away. He is always so much stronger than you assume. Holding your hips tight, his hand flips over and rubs light and fast over the surface of your clit. You writhe.

“Oh no, baby, you are gonna keep cumming,” he asserts, unable to keep his mouth on your twitching tits.

He refuses to give you any reprieve. He buries his fingers inside you again, pummeling your pussy with his palm. The switch in sensation is like an upslope that lifts you higher. You freeze, still for a long moment. Holding your breath, you let him finger fuck you hard. Sloppy, wet slapping sounds are the only thing breaking the night's stillness.

You didn’t think you could clamp down any harder, but as everything funnels down to your core, you tighten around his fingers. Your back arches and a high pitched whine careens from your throat. Your pelvis grinds down onto his fingers as your voice modulates low “OH! Fuck me, YES!” His hand drips with your juices.

Austin just chuckles low. “Not yet, Kitten,” he is watching your face as you cum with each dig of your hips.

Your hips come to a full and complete stop as does his fingers. Your ragged breath barely begins to even out. You lean down, hands on either side of his face and softly kiss him.

“Mmm, that was good, baby,” you murmur into his mouth. His hands disengage from your crotch.

He guides you off him, “Turn around,” he says, having made a decision.

You stand up wobbly, blankets and all. Austin takes the opportunity to pull off his jeans and underwear. You are expecting a good hard fuck in the grass as he reaches up and yanks your panties off. But he pulls your hips down to sit between his legs on the chair instead. The blankets spread over you both.

“Lean back and spread your legs, beautiful,” his voice is low and gravely in your ear.

You are not sure how he is going to get off in this position, his cock would be trapped behind your back, not in you.

‘Austin, I’m, I’m done, I’m good, what about you?” you say, turning a little to look at him and reaching for his cock.

“Oh hoh Kitten,” he laughs deviously, his gaze locking onto yours, “ I’m not done with you , I think I owe you a little more,” he pulls you back against him.

“Oh baby, you don’t-” you start trying to assure him once again, but his hand comes under your jaw. Thumb and forefinger spread, pressing just in front of the joint on either side, the rest of his fingers digging into the side of your neck. You gasp, hand going instinctively to his wrist. It’s the closest he’s ever come to choking you, although there is no pressure on your throat. You are immediately putty in his hands.

“Shhhh, Kitten, my darlin’,” he purrs in your ear, “you still haven’t cum in the stars for me. So you are going to take it, and like it and beg me for more until you can’t handle it.”

Your breath comes out in a shudder as your pussy drips. God, his voice, his words, his hands, how is this man possible? You didn’t know that was what you were in for tonight, but you fucking love it.

“Now, spread your legs,“ he says pointedly.

You do, looping your legs over his in the chair. Your wet pussy lips peeling apart under the blanket.

Austin reaches down and starts moving against your already swollen, sensitive snatch.

“There’s my good girl,” he whispers in your ear.

His fingers move in soft circles around your clit. You moan, eyes closing.

“You like it when I play with this pussy, don’t you Kitten,” his voice like honey, dripping onto your neck.

“Oui, mon Roi,” you answer in French.

“Should I have fingered you in the car on the way here?” honey dripping in between your breasts.

“Uh huh,” your other arm reaches up, your hand curling into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Oh this pussy is so wet, always so needy,” his fingertips push harder.

“All the time, always for you, mon Roi,” you moan.

“God damn, you make me want you so much,” his hips are pushing against you.

You are flushing with heat, you kick the blankets away, the cool air tingling on your wetness.

“Oh, such a naughty Kitten, you want to be exposed?” his breath hot on your neck, ”anyone could walk around the house and see me fingering you, watch me make you thrash. You would love that, wouldn't you.”

Oh fuck, you didn’t know you had a an exhibitionist kink until this moment. The idea of being watched kicks you up a notch.

“I would,” you moan, nodding.

“What if it was Loki,” he plays to your fantasies, “and I hold your legs open,” he wraps his legs on top of yours, holding them apart, “and let him fuck you, use you,” he disentangles your hand from his hair and pushes your own fingers into your cunt, “just like this, while I rubbed you the way I know you like it.”

Oh. My. God. The idea of a hot Tom Hiddleston with dark hair mercilessly sinking himself into you as Austin holds you. FUCK, that takes you to a whole other level.

“OH Fuck Austin… yes. Yes, YES!!!!” you are crying out, fucking yourself with your own fingers.

You are pushing back against him. His hand tightens on your jaw, holding your head tilted back against his shoulder as he works your clit. His cock, desperate for friction, is working between you, spreading his pre-cum on your low spine.

FUCK YES, It feels so fucking good, being held down by him, being so open to the sky, to the silky moonlight.

You skyrocket into the stars, your eyes shoot open and you are staring at Sirius, the dogstar. For long held seconds you are Sirius, with rays of light shining from your head as you ignite, lighting up the night.

“There she is, my shining girl in the stars,” he is humming in your ear. Jerking, you stop your barrage into yourself. Austin’s hand covers your pussy, pressing softly, soothingly, drops of your cum cooling on your inner thighs.

You get a long breath or two, shaking as you start to think about coming down.

“Thank you Austin,” you say breathily.

“Oh no, don’t thank me yet,” he growls in your ear. Your orgasm-addled brain is confused. Until Austin slaps your pussy, jolting you back to him. It’s not super hard, but it makes you jerk.

“I’m still not done,“

Slap

“Oh, I don’t know if-” you begin.

SLAP!

You gasp.

“What a filthy, naughty girl, to be so turned on by someone else’s cock,” his voice is not angry, but husky with desire.

“I think you like the idea too,” you risk, undulating against his cock, “it’s pretty wet back there.”

Austin’s gruff laugh puffs out with a shake of his head.

“Maybe, as long as I get to reclaim you as mine,” his fingers tighten on your jaw and neck for a long, pointed moment before releasing entirely to slide down to your breasts. His last word rumbles into your brain, sending shivers down your spine

“I’m yours, Austin, all yours,” your voice is light, airy, full of yearning.

“Mmhmmm, yes you are,” he kisses your cheek tenderly.

“Now, tell me you want more,” Slap

“OH,” you squeak and jump. You hadn’t expected it.

“Say it,” he demands. Slap

“Oh- I,” you aren’t sure if you can go more. ‘ Yes you can, you want it and you know it.” your demon says.

“Tell me,” he says through gritted teeth. SLAP

“I want more,” you squeal a little on the last word.

“Say my name.” SLAP

You don’t quite register that this is your out, should you need it until you are saying:

“I want more Austin.” Fuck yeah you do. That bitch.

“What do you want, Kitten?” he prompts you. SLAP

“Spank my pussy ‘till I cum again,” your succubus answers for you before you can think. Oh shit, that was your outside voice.

“Oh, my filthy little insatiable harlot,” SLAP. His voice is full of unmet desire, you know he is just as turned on as you are. His hard cock is throbbing behind your back.

He starts in on your mons, stinging slaps then rubbing your clit fast side to side. The combo is unhinging you.

“Holy shit Kitten, you’ve got me so,” SLAP, “fucking,” SLAP, “hot.“ SLAP. Each stinging smack a little harder than the last. Clearly it’s unhinging him as well.

Flicking light and fast over your swollen nub he growls in your ear “I’m going to fuck you so hard after this, you won’t have to open your eyes to see the stars.” SLAP. SLAP.

You meet each new sting with a gasping moan.

His hips are rutting against your back. You wish he was inside of you.

“Please fuck me Austin, I need your cock,” you whine and moan.

“Oh Hunny, cum for me and I will,” his voice vibrates against your back and into your brainstem. How is he so fucking good? With each flick, each smack, you vacillate between being hungry for more and wanting him to stop.

Immense pressure is building behind your clit with every contact of his hand. You are forced over the brink yet again. You cinch down onto nothing. Every muscle straining You curl and try to close your legs, writhing. But his legs are forcing you to stay open. He continues the actual onslaught of your pussy. SLAP. Rub. SLAP. Flick. SLAP. Rub.

It’s too much, and not enough all at once.

“Nononono,” you are trying to pull his hands away from you, to protect your poor, wanting pussy. He grabs your hands and holds them tight to your belly and keeps rubbing and spanking you. You are struggling against him in the most delicious way.

“Beg me,” he growls in your ear.

“Please, please, stop, Austin, stop,” you whimper weakly.

“I don't think you really mean it,” his chuckle is deep in this chest. He slaps you again, and again, and again. Then his long fingers plunge into your dripping slit, stirring at your g spot. It pitches you into a spiral. Dangling over the chasm in his grip.

You are keening; cumming. You are biting into the meaty part of your own thumb; cumming. You are dripping around his fingers onto the chair; cumming. Cumming so hard, you are bewildered, disoriented and also laser focused on his fingers rasping against you again and again and again. You thought you were cumming before, it’s nothing compared to this. This is celestial devilry made carnal. Only the gods orgasm like this. You feel as much as hear your sweet fluid squirt out of you.

“Please, I can’t, again” you beg, sobbing.

He ignores your plea, raking his hands from back to front in succession along your pussy, fingers digging into your slit as he drags them up, grasping and shaking your mons and clit in his palm at the top. Right. Left. Right. Left. Over and over again, triggering immense aftershocks. Your spine is undulating in time with his raking of you. Your screaming moans modulate with the motion of his hands.

With a final grip and shake on your vulva, he stops. You are still shaking.

“Oh lord baby I need to be in you,” he presses you forward, up and off his lap. You are unable to stand, fuzzy. You ooze onto the blankets that fell on the grass, lying on your back. He is on you in seconds, knees between your legs. You are brought back to sharp focus by his cock sliding into your buzzing pussy.

“Oh my god Kitten, you are so hot around me,” Austin moans.

It is nirvana to be filled with him at last. You wrap your arms and legs around him as he thrusts in and out of you, banging the hell out of you under the night sky. He isn’t holding back, chasing his own release. He is right, you see the stars whether or not your eyes are open.

Holy fuck you’ve never been pushed this far in so many ways. Your tight, clenching pussy feels so full, so stretched by his cock pounding into you. Nerves that have been overstimulated are on the verge of rebelling. Fuck you want him never to stop, and if he doesn't stop you may never recover.

“Come on baby, one more big one for me,” the strain of his lust evident in his low gritty tone. It washes over you and you fracture. Your full throated scream echoes across the lake. You twist, and turn and thrash under him, your whole body contorting in inscrutable pleasure. No, pleasure isn’t right. It’s higher than that, harder, vehement. It rocks the foundations of what you believe to be true. Only the gods fuck like this.

“Ohmigod, my Kitten, fucking mine, all mine,” he underscores each thrust with a word. You are violently shaking under him as he surges into you, every muscle straining.

Finally all motion ceases, you are crying into his shoulder, clinging to him as a touchpoint of reality. You aren’t sure who you are or where you are, only that Austin is here, keeping you from dying.

He lifts off you. Standing. Leaving you in the cold momentarily. You curl around your core, crying in overwhelm. Then you are in his arms, floating. Crying into his shoulder. Being laid in a warm bed with his warm naked body protecting you. Holding you. Petting your head and rubbing your back. Whispering soft words of love. Pressing a water bottle to your mouth as your crying subsides into soft whimpers and then into shaky breaths.

“You are here my love, with me” Austin is saying,” just breathe. I got you.”

...........

You wake up in the morning to sounds of birds outside. Austin is asleep next to you, just where you like him to be. You sneak out to pee and take care of yourself, after last night's worship to Eros, you need a shower.

When you get back, Austin is still snoring. You climb back into bed and cuddle up next to him. You doze. You wake up to the smell of coffee and Austin, also freshly showered, bringing you a cup.

You sit up in bed and gratefully accept it. He sits down on the bed with you, sipping his own cup. He left the tent flap open and you can see across the lake. What a magnificent thing, to have that view while in bed, and this dreamboat of a man next to you. Bringing you coffee nonetheless! “Thank you for last night Austin,” you say, hands wrapped around the white steaming cup.

“You are so welcome, my love,” he says with a smile, obviously feeling like he has ‘made it up’ to you.

…............

As you are leaving, the owner is walking her dog along the road towards you. You stop and roll down the window to thank her for everything.

“I was comin’ to check on ya! Did ya hear that cougar screamin’ last night?” she says concerned, ”it sounded pretty close by.”

“Oh? I don’t think we did,” Austin says a little confused.

“Yeah,” she says, “a month or so ago, one was spotted a bit north of here, but have never heard it before. It were erie, echoed across the lake.”

“Oh, well we are ok, glad we didn’t see it!” you say.

You tell her thank you and that you’d leave a glowing review.

As you are driving away, Austin is shaking his head, “Wow, that is a little scary.”

You burst out laughing.

“What is so funny, we could’ve gotten attacked! Being just in that tent!”

“Oh baby, I’m sorry. That was no cougar she heard, it was me cumming last night. Cougars sound like a woman screaming.”

“No way, you think so?” Austin is smiling realizing the implications.

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard them back home, I would have recognized it.

“Oh my god, that is funny!” Austin joins you in laughing.

#Austin Butler #Austin Butler smut #Austin Butler x reader #Austin Butler fic #Austin butler fanfic #@purejasmine #@slowsweetlove #@richardslady121

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