#AND HE GIVES SO MUCH ATTENTION AND IT HAS FUCKED HIM UP.

[jobean12-blog]

Make It Last

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Mob/Mafia AU)

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: When the most powerful man in the city wants you, it's hard to say no. Obviously he's hard to resist but considering his significance in the city you can't help but wonder if you're just another piece of arm candy, so if he wants you, he'll just have to wait.

Author's Note: I've been thinking about Mob!Bucky a lot and what it would be like the first time with him. Lovely Sydney @buck-star had sent me a Mob!Bucky thot last week and he's just so yummy! Hope you enjoy, thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: lots of build up and tension to lots of smutty fun. Bucky is dominant but also soft and gives you everything you want. Oral (f rec), p in v (wrap it up but no need here bc it's Mob!Bucky and he's good and already checked you out haha), light praise and overstim, Bucky can't get enough and you don't want him to.

“It might last longer if he just takes a picture!”

You laugh but you don’t look at your friend even after she makes the joke.

“Why is he even here? Didn’t you tell him you’d be out with the me?” she adds.

At her question you turn to Nat and raise a brow.

“He owns the place. What am I gonna do? Have security remove him for staring too much?”

Nat laughs into her drink but shakes her head. “I guess that won’t work…but it doesn’t bother you at all?”

You give Bucky one more lingering glance then turn your full attention to Nat.

“Under different circumstances it might but it’s sort of my fault that he’s so…worked up.”

“What does that mean?” Nat asks as she leans in closer with a smirk.

You take another sip of your drink. “Well, speaking of pictures…I sent him some while I was getting ready…”

Nat pauses then says, “and? Hasn’t he seen you naked already. You’ve been dating almost a month.”

“We haven’t had sex yet.”

She nearly spits out her drink. “You haven’t fucked that man yet?” She peeks over your shoulder at Bucky, who still has his full attention on you.

“I know,” you sigh. “I can’t believe I’ve lasted this long. But honestly, he’s the most powerful man in the city. He probably has had every woman alive. Why me? I didn’t want to just sleep with him and then…that’s it.”

Nat nods in understanding. “So, you’re making him work for it.”

“Work for it, wait for it…I like him. A lot. And I’m hoping that this shows him I want more than just a good fuck.”

“I bet he’s the best fuck…ever!”

Nat’s words send you into a fit of giggles that dissolve as you feel him approach, the heat at your back followed but a shiver from his whispered words against your ear.

“Enjoying yourself doll face?”

You turn your head, your face so close to his you nearly bump noses.

“I am Bucky, thank you.”

“Good,” he says. “And this is your last drink.”

Your eyes widen at his statement, and you open your mouth to argue but he places a long finger against your lips to silence you.

“I want you completely coherent when I fuck you tonight. I want you to remember everything I do to you.”

With a hard swallow you whisper, “ok,” and your eyes drop to his lips. He kisses you, sweet and soft and way too quickly.

“My car will be outside at eleven.”

He says goodbye to Nat before walking off and disappearing behind one of the doors at the back of the club.

“What was that about?” Nat asks. “You look like you might pass out.”

“I’m going to sleep with him tonight,” you answer, nearly breathless.

Your eyes roam over his body, his black button-up shirt tucked into black pants. The first two buttons of his shirt are left undone, hinting at the expanse of skin beneath and highlighting the long and muscular line of his neck. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his corded forearms and prominent veins shift as he removes the lustrous watch on his wrist.

You stand and wait, watching him as he slowly stalks closer.

“Do you know how hard it’s been? How hard I’ve been…waiting?”

Your eyes drop to his pants and the clear outline of him pressing along the lush fabric. You reach out, your fingertips just brushing against him and his breath comes out in a sharp exhale.

He wraps his fingers around your wrist and drags you into his chest, pressing you against every inch of him. His lips find yours in a hungry kiss, his hands slowly tracing your curves until they cradle your face.

“Are you finally going to let me have you?” he murmurs against your lips.

Your palms flatten along his chest, and you kiss him softly.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“My favorite word,” he breathes before kissing you again.

His hands move to your back, finding the zipper of your dress and toying with the small piece of metal. You whimper with impatience, and you feel his smile against your mouth before he spins you around, so your back is to him.

Goosebumps break out across your skin as he smooths his fingertips over the curve of your shoulder then drops his hand back to the zipper, slowly pulling it down until the fabric pools at your feet.

He hums in approval, kissing the back of your neck and then the space between your shoulder.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing the lace of your undergarments.

He turns you to face him again and then gently guides you toward the bed, pushing until you sit. He kneels, taking your foot in his hand and sliding off your heel. He repeats the action with your other foot and smooths his palm along your calf with a delicate caress.

“So soft,” he sighs then stands, gazing down at you. “So beautiful.”

He starts to unbutton the rest of his shirt, but you stand to stop him, taking the fabric between your fingers and teasingly undoing the buttons until you can push it off his shoulders.

Your fingertips lightly scrape down his chest, lingering over every scar you find before your lips press to the puckered skin.

His eyes close and he whispers your name.

When your fingers reach his pants, trembling slightly, you pull the zipper down. You reveal his boxers and the noticeable bulge beneath the tight material.

You lick your lips and brush your fingers through the soft hair just above the waistband then dip them inside, sliding your hand along every warm, silky inch of him.

He throbs in response, your thumb tracing the tip and smearing the wetness there. You kiss him all over, not taking him into your mouth yet but teasing with your lips.

“Doll,” he warns and unclenches a fist to stop you. “If you keep that up this will be finished before we even start.”

You let out a soft gasp as he helps you stand and pushes you back onto the bed. His hands skim your thighs, pulling your legs up and placing them on either side of his hips. He hovers over you, staring, the curling wisps of his dark hair falling across his forehead.

When he slides his hand between the mattress and your back, you lift yourself, giving him access to unhook your bra. He makes quick work of it but takes his time as he peels it from your body to reveal your breasts.

He stares again, his cheeks flushed and the muscles in his arms and chest straining. You reach for him, pulling him down for a kiss and pressing your bodies together. His lips trail down your neck, to your collarbone, soft nips at your skin before he continues his descent, lips leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

His tongue teases your nipple then sucks it into his mouth making your back arch in pleasure. He pays the same attention to your other breast, teasing, licking, nibbling, and soothing.

You feel his smile against your skin as he pulls away to kiss down your stomach, keeping one hand on your breast.

His name falls from your parted lips when he presses a kiss between your legs, the thin fabric of your panties doing little to dampen the heat of his breath.

He sits back, gazing down at you, fingers teasing the waistband of lace at your hips.

“Do you want my mouth doll?”

You nod, your hips squirming.

“I want to hear the word.”

“Yes!”

A satisfied look crosses his face as he hooks his thumbs into the soft material and pulls it off, purposefully dragging the tips of his fingers down your thighs and calves.

His kiss is a barely there whisper of his lips to your clit, yet it causes your entire body to quiver. He does it again and again until you’re begging for more.

Finally, his tongue flattens, and he tastes you in a long lick from top to bottom. You cry out, bucking and pushing your hips into his face. He closes his lips around your clit and sucks, applying the perfect amount of pressure to make you tremble.

His hands dig deeper into your thighs, the rings adorning his fingers leaving marks in your skin as your calves come to rest on his shoulders, opening you wider for him. His tongue circles your clit before sweeping lower and dipping inside you. Your fingers grasp his hair, another breathless moan leaving your lips.

After bringing you to the edge he pulls back and lets you catch your breath, but it’s short lived as his finger circles your clit before sliding lower to sink inside you.

“More Bucky,” you breathe.

He pulls his finger out and rubs along your entrance with two, teasing you, before only pushing one back inside.

You bring your hand down toward him, needing more, but he quickly intercepts it. He withdraws his fingers and gathers your wrists together with one hand, bringing both arms stretched out above your head.

“Keep them there,” he orders.

You start to nod but then quickly reply with a breathy, “yes.”

He bends down to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth before sinking his teeth into it. He moves back down your body, his tongue working you over, no longer teasing, but with purpose.

It takes everything in you not to let your hands fall to his hair and when he suddenly pushes two fingers inside you, giving you what you asked for, you moan out in pleasure.

His long fingers reach deep inside you, and combined with his attention to your clit, you can feel your release building.

A warm, tingling sensation spreads through your body and your breathing turns ragged as your muscles tense.

He doesn’t stop, working you through your release and prolonging it until you’re a trembling mess beneath him.

You open your eyes to find him watching you with a heated gaze.

“Fuck doll face. I could watch you come undone for me like that every day for the rest of my life.”

His thumb sweeps over your sensitive and swollen clit and your eyes roll back.

“Again,” he murmurs, dipping between your legs before you can respond.

His lips replace his thumb, his fingers resuming their previous pace as he slides his free hand under your lower back to effortlessly lift you and bring you closer.

Everything feels ten times more sensitive now and you fight with the clashing sensations of pulsating pleasure and the soreness of overstimulation.

You feel your release approaching quickly and your eyes squeeze shut but his commanding voice pulls you from your haze.

“No,” he growls. “Open them. Look at me.”

You obey, opening your eyes again, and the sight of him between your spread thighs sends you over the edge.

“Bucky,” you choke out.

“Gorgeous,” he whispers. “But not nearly enough.”

You struggle to sit up, your eyes falling to his cock resting against his abdominals. He smirks and grips himself, pumping his hand slowly up and down his length.

“Do you need a break doll?”

“No,” you tell him, letting your legs fall open.

He settles between them, his lips kissing your neck and the sensitive spot below your ear. He slides his hand down between your bodies and rubs himself against you teasingly.

“What is it?” he asks, pausing at the slight tensing in your body.

“Nothing Bucky.”

“Tell me doll face,” he demands. “I’ll stop if you want me to.”

“No!” you say quickly. “No. It’s not that. You’re just…bigger than what I’m used to.”

He smirks, rolling his hips slowly, not pressing in yet.

“You can take it doll.”

His hand moves to your face, grasping your jaw, keeping you looking up at him.

“Keep your eyes on me.”

“Yes Bucky.”

His other hand grips your waist, holding you steady, and your breath catches in your throat as he begins to press into you, then came out in a low moan as he unhurriedly sinks in, making you feel every throbbing inch of him.

Your eyes flutter closed, but then his fingers dig into your jaw, a silent reminder to keep your eyes open. Your body stretches to accommodate him, the initial burn giving way to sweet friction as you relax.

He continues to move maddeningly slowly, his gaze never leaving yours, the intimacy of the moment making your pulse pick up in a way that has nothing to do with his languid movements.

He lets out a soft exhale as he finally stills, settled fully inside you. Your inner walls flutter around him as you adjust to his size, and he pulls back slightly, only to push back in with more force, drawing another moan out of you.

“See doll. You take me so well,” he praises. “Do you want more?”

“Yes,” you say, your hands wrapped around his biceps, feeling the power in his muscles as he holds himself over you.

He draws back until only the tip remains inside you and then slips back in slowly. You lift your hips with impatience but his hand pushes on your stomach to pin you back down to the bed.

He leans in to kiss you, softly and with sweet, whispered words. The slow roll of his hips builds tightness in your stomach, and he takes your hand in his, pressing it next to your head, entwining your fingers.

You slide your free hand through his hair, dragging your fingers through the soft strands and then down his neck. He closes his eyes, savoring the sensation, his hold on your hand tightening.

“I could come just from this,” he says huskily, lips dropping down to your ear. “Just from the sight of you completely ruined under me.”

His words make you squeeze around him, and he lets out a low, deep rumbling moan into your neck. You jerk your hips up toward him, your legs trying to draw him closer and deeper.

He lets go, pumping his hips faster, fingers digging into your thigh possessively as your body jolts with the force of it.

With a precise and purposeful rhythm, he keeps a relentless pace until your body explodes with every sensation and all you can do is hold onto him and listen to the rough sound that comes deep from his throat.

He pants against your neck, then trails soft kisses along your jaw to your lips, his kiss slow and deep, making you breathless all over again. Your heart beats frantically between you, his own a rapid thump, thump, thump, against his sweaty chest.

With gentleness he pulls out and lays down next to you, throwing his arm over your waist and curling you toward him. You quickly get lost in his cocoon of warmth, sighing, and closing your eyes, but he presses two fingers under your chin, lifting your gaze to his.

“I want to clean you up,” he whispers. “And I want you to stay the night with me.”

Your quiet “yes,” makes him smile proudly and he carefully extracts himself, returning quickly with a warm cloth and delicate hands.

He slides up the bed and pulls you to him, closing the distance and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, then the corner of your mouth and finally your lips. His hand cradles your face, his thumb swiping over your lips, applying enough pressure to part them.

Then his hand glides along your throat and his fingers close around the back of your neck to angle your head in a way that allows him a deeper kiss.

When he pulls away his nose gently bumps yours and he opens his eyes, ghosting his lips to yours as he whispers, “so perfect for me doll.”

[valentine-cafe]

˖⁺. “ boner in public ! ” : 

﹙ various monster boyfriends x gn reader ﹚.𖹭

. . . various monster boyfriends x gn reader !! 🍒 : 

you're out and about in public. only for you to look down and catch your partner in a bit of a predicament. . . a boner in public. 

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ very lowkey brat taming ˖ reader is suuuchhh a shit | wc : 1.2k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: I needed to write this for awhile and just - had so much damn fun with it 

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

﹙ Alessio 781. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : “This assembly meeting must be reeeaaalll interesting, huh Alessio?”

You catch his grin from the side as you shift closer to his still countenance. Standing tall with his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark jeans. As if he isn’t sporting a massive tent at his crotch.

“Oh yeah. Fuckin’ love the morning recount of -” he pauses to pay attention he hasn’t bothered. “- scheduled staff meetings. Really gets a person going.”

You have to stiffle a laugh. Even with a raging boner he’s able to toss jokes around like its nothing. Typical Alessio.

You shift closer and muse as your arm bumps into his. “You’re surprisingly calm for someone armed and ready. Happen often?”

He casts you only a side glance and this time, his brow arches to join the lazy grin. “D’you have any idea how many fucking boners you give? In a day? ‘m used to this shit by now.” Your face burns at his words and you take a small glance around to ensure no one has noticed, before your gaze returns to the culprit.

His low murmur breaks the silence. “Keep staring and I’ll take it as an offer.” At last your boyfriend turns to you. Eyes shining with the bluntness of his words. Your own widen and you bounce your gaze around quickly before clearing your throat. Considering. Then humming.

“Can’t be serious.”

“Meet me round the bathroom in five?”

The shamelessness of this man. How could you possibly say no?

꒰  mercenary ˖ inhuman ˖ immortal ˖ punkgoth character ꒱

 

﹙ Talisen 781. ﹚. . . !! 🍓 : The line for this one cup of coffee was criminally long. You weigh out the options, you’ve already waited ten minutes — and you’re almost there. But the damned lady at the front had changed her mind about elven times and over.

You’re about to spin around and tell your boyfriend that maybe you should find another spot — until it catches your peripheral. The familiar bulge that has you whipping your head over immediately to make sure you’re seeing right.

And Talisen, oh poor Talisen. He stands tall as ever. Staring ahead without so much as a peep. Pretending as though he hasn’t caught your obvious stare. As if he is sooo oblivious to dick rising for attention. Like a fucking actor.

You can’t help the shit-eating grin that spreads across your face. It’s subtle, but, you shuffle closer and mumble low enough to his ear. “Is it just me, or are you really excited for that berry tea?”

The click of his tongue sends you giggling. The reaper turns his face in the opposite direction and tightens his jaw. Damn the paleness of his face. It shines his blush like a red light.

“Do not patronize me. It. . . It can very well be a random occurrence.” His deep voice mutters, grave like the hole he’s digging for himself in retribution for his body putting him in this position.

“Maybe. . .” you muse, tilting your head with your grin dropping to a smirk. “Or maybe it was the way you were staring at my thighs earlier.”

He grunts low. Here you are, laughing your ass off at him while he’s twitching and struggling. What a cruel beloved he has found himself with.

But he must remain refined. He takes a deep breath. Schools his blushing face and leans over to your shoulder. Pale fingers find the small of your back. “If you would stop staring. This will ease in about five minutes.” He murmurs to your ear. You all but croon. Your eyes coyly shifting to the side.

“And what if I don’t wanna?”

“Then,” his fingers press up into your back. “Suppose I will have to make it your problem for the rest of the day.”

꒰  grim reaper ˖ naga ˖ poet character ꒱

 

﹙ Haitao 209. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : “Stop staring.”

You’re pulled out of your world of bewilderment and mild amusement when his dry voice fills your ear. You sway a bit to your boyfriend leaned back into the wall beside you. Arms folded as he stares through his spectacles to the briefing of the newest mission.

“Can’t help it Haii. It’s like you’re tryna poke my eye out with that.” You have to restrain the urge to reach over and flick it. However, your joke does spark a gurgled, muffled laughter from Haitao’s motionless figure. Seems Luu’leriel found it quite funny.

The reaper in turn sighs deep and shuts his eyes for but a moment as you prod at him continuously. Poking the bear was your specialty. Here he is, hard as rock. And even now you refuse to give him a moment’s reprieve.

“Oh c’mon. Don’t look so serious,” you lightly knock his elbow with yours. Your grin dimming just a tad so that you can lower your voice. “Maybe I could give you a hand?”

He gives but a roll of his eyes. His expression not breaking once. Much like ice. He only lowers his own voice in turn and speaks lowly.

“This is an extremely important briefing and you wanna miss it to give me a handjob?”

“Looks like you need it big boy. Think I saw it twitch.”

That was it. His arm snakes around your waist and yanks you closer. His cold lips find your ear and he eases into a whisper. “Your count’s on three. Four will cost you. Five, you’re not fucking walking.”

You immediately straighten up and stare forward. With but a clear of your throat. Haitao returns to his initial stance. With his dick now throbbing more than before. You won in the end.

꒰ grim reaper ˖ assassin character ꒱

 

﹙ Orion. ﹚. . . !! 🍓 : Your beloved is the height of nobility. The sheer essence of refinement. It is what you’ve adored about him since day one. His large, dark wings stick out through the sea of white feathers. As you both stand within one of the grand angel halls. Socialising before the announcements for the new age.

You cannot help but admire your love. Oh, refinement does not even begin to cover it. He is beyond graceful.

Even when he is straining a boner through his robes. Although barely visible with the layers of his black hanfu, you knew him well enough.

“My.” you muse at last. Finding a quiet moment beside him. “When you complimented my outfit, I hadn’t thought it would get to you so much.”

You receive only a side eye from the angel before he returns to his glass of wine. A small swish to the scarlet liquid before he brings his lips to the rim with a soft mumble. “You speak a lot for a guilty being. Do you enjoy ruining my image?”

You laugh and link an arm with his. Your chin craning to his shoulder. “Oh Oriiooonn, don’t blame me for your own imaginative mind huh?” With a small hum, you guide your eyes down slyly before piping ever so softly. “Who knew old men like you could still get it up?”

It is only then that you receive a scoff from him. He has to take another swig of his wine after that. “You of all people should know. You find yourself on it every night.”

You smile at his little bite. He seems unbothered for the most part — but your teasing is certainly getting to him. That much you can tell. So you bite on your lip with a smile.

“Are you growing irritable? Might I offer assistance?”

“Why not? You seem as though you are ready to get down on your knees here and now in any case.”

You swat his arm lightly and he only chuckles. You’ll have to find an empty hallways.

꒰ abyssal angel ˖ dragonic character ꒱

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[threeacttragedy]

Entry 18: The One Where Two Roads Diverged in a Wood of GIFs and Written Words

“Lukola Crisis Hotline. How may I be of service?”

Me: Houston, we have a problem.

Dad: Do tell!

Me: You won’t believe who showed up last night! –

Dad: Oh, my goodness! Oh, my goodness! Whoa! I don’t know what to say! Wait – let me grab my Coke and my smokes. <waiting> Okay, I’m back. So, Misty appeared out of nowhere with Thang?! Well, this just got fun! <laughing>

For clarity’s sake, my father tends to give everyone a pet name. Some of the pet names are funny; some are quite cruel. But if they help him remember who the players are in this fandom (and in any other situation), I’m game to play along. Plus, his pet names tend to add a little comedy relief to whatever is being discussed, especially when it is not an outwardly funny subject.

In Lukola-Land, Luke is “Thang” (it’s actually “Thing” – as in the hand from The Addams Family – but my dad’s accent muddles the pronunciation into “Thang”); Nicola is “Ireland,” for obvious reasons; Antonia is “Misty,” for, umm, the Clint Eastwood movie, “Play Misty for Me;” and Jake is – well, Jake is actually just “Jake” because my father finds the USS Jakola offensive. In fact, when I was discussing the recent fandom events with him on Friday evening, my dad was genuinely shocked to learn the Jakolas still existed. His pet name for the Jakolas is “Fucking Stupid,” by the way.

Moving on to the matter at hand –

There’s been so much “noise” over the past few weeks that, when taken collectively, it is rather eye-opening. We’ve got Luke’s mother posting on Facebook about “Luke’s girlfriend…from Cyprus.” The leaked funeral video and photos (by allegedly Luke’s family). The Best in Show pap pictures of Nicola and Jake. The “just friends” interview. The disappearance of Jake (because he’s rehearsing for a play) and the sudden reemergence of Antonia.

If you’ve noticed from my recent entries on this blog, I have obviously found most of what has happened of late to be comical and not worth putting into written word. Instead, my thoughts have been dumped into GIF stories. To be honest, I was rather disappointed I couldn’t put this last part – Antonia emerging from the misty edges of the forest – entirely into a GIF story. Her reappearance was like a certain Bond villain coming back to life for the seventh time. In other words, it was total cringe. But it also altered an otherwise slow burning campfire into a motherfucking forest fire.

Me: Thoughts?

Dad: I need some time to think about this one – and a cigarette. Or two. Call me back in 15 minutes.

“Psychotic Fan Rescue Center, at your service.”

Me: You’re a dumbass.

Dad: <laughing> Well, this is insane. It makes no sense and it’s a convoluted mess. Why bring Misty back? She was killed off two seasons ago.

Me: No shit, Sherlock.

Dad: Hell, maybe this has all been a nest of vipers.

A nest of vipers? Ah, yes, the idea that we have a group of venomous snakes thrown into the same close-quartered trench – in an every-man-for-himself type situation – each taking strikes at the others whenever their backs are turned.

In Entries 1, 13, and 15 – with an emphasis on “Entry 13: The One Where the Ashes Blew Towards Us with the Salt Wind from the Sea” – I wrote about what the Lutonia narrative could look like, if real. I will not rehash in detail those entries here, but I will link them at the end of this entry if you want to read, or reread, them.

Now, the General Audience almost certainly didn’t pay a lick of attention to Antonia when she appeared alongside Luke at the Boss event held January 30 (she’s always just been a Face in the Crowd). But the sudden reappearance of Antonia stopped the Lukolas dead in their tracks because – like my dad said – she was seemingly killed off two seasons ago.

The Lukolas have suddenly found themselves at an intersection of confusion and, likely, a bit of distress. The long and winding road we’ve been traveling along has diverged into two paths – and, no, you cannot travel both.

The problem with the Lutonia narrative has always been that Luke has never formally acknowledged Antonia as his girlfriend. In fact, Luke had the perfect opportunity to do so when he posted about the Boss event on his Instagram grid – but he did not. I could rationalize the idea that Luke and Antonia wanted to keep their relationship private after the Papsmear misstep if it weren’t for the fact that Antonia has been historically loud in her social media posts. We spent the summer and fall with insinuation post after insinuation post from Antonia. Yes, all those posts that alluded to her being with Luke without any actual evidence that she was, in fact, with Luke. By the time Antonia got to “Pasta-gate” in mid-November, the Lukola fandom barely even blinked before dismissing her as, well, the antagonist from “Play Misty for Me.” And this leads to something even more problematic for the USS Lutonia – Luke has never rescued Antonia from being ridiculed and torn apart by the fandom. My dad would call – and has called – Luke a cad for this.

Jumping to the other side of this misshapen triangle, we have Nicola and her Assassin (my dad’s pet name for JVN). Assuming Lutonia is real, the only logical answer for Nicola’s behavior is that she has spent months trolling Luke, Antonia, and <gasp> the fandom. Nicola herself has admitted to being chronically online and, at a minimum, being aware of fan edits – so much so that during the London premiere she commented that she and Luke “can’t do anything” without the fandom reacting to it. Therefore, I will call “foul” on anyone who tries to persuade me that Nicola was unaware of, at a minimum, how the Lukola fandom had reacted to the Claddagh ring, Chaos Week, and the October airplane posts. JVN openly mocking Antonia on social media with, for example, their Slick Back Bun routine only added fuel to this fire.

For shits and giggles – and so I can get to the bend in this road – we will roll with my dad’s “Nest of Vipers” theory for a moment. We will concede that Lutonia is real, which, in my opinion, makes Luke the absolute worst boyfriend in London and Antonia a woman who doesn’t mind being treated like roadkill. It also, unfortunately, makes Nicola and Fan Favorite JVN come off like online bullies – with the only plausible reasoning for the bullying being that Luke and Nicola are at odds with each other. No, I take that back – they’re not at odds with each other – they’re seemingly at war with each other. I’ll even amp this up a bit and throw in the suggestion that, assuming Lutonia is real, Netflix & Co. is aware of the strife between its two Polin actors and are protecting their asset with blurred Polin-Lukola posts to pacify the fandom. Dun-Dun-DUNN! And yes! That was a sly nod to Jake.

Me: Thanks for that. You just made Luke into an absolute prick and gave Antonia’s starring role in “Play Misty for Me” to Nicola.

Dad: Hey, I’m not the one who dug up Misty! That was all Thang!

Me: Then why does everyone say Luke is the nicest person? Nicola, his co-stars –  

Dad: All lies.

Me: Would you STOP?!

Dad: But I’m serious! Thang could be a complete pig behind closed doors and Ireland could be on the verge of a psychotic meltdown because, uhh, maybe she’s obsessed with Thang and pissed he chose Misty.

The unfortunate thing about this Nest of Vipers theory is that I could almost certainly make a convincing argument that it was legit. I’ve always joked with my Inner Circle of Lukolas that no one wants to see me go rogue, especially not – I’ll bite my tongue on that one. But I will emphasize the importance of keeping an open mind when you’re reviewing information. Always consider both sides of the coin. That said, it’s hard to ignore the evidence that was presented to us through the World Tour interviews and behind-the-scenes footage; therefore –

Me: I’m having a hard time believing Luke is someone who wouldn’t protect his girlfriend. He seems to support Nicola online quite a bit. Why wouldn’t he do the same for Antonia?

Dad: <laughing> Fine. Antonia isn’t his girlfriend. Maybe it’s all just a bunch of fuckery like I’ve always said.

“Fuckery” is my dad’s pet name for PR bullshit. If you didn’t pick up on it in previous entries, I am not fond of PR theories. But I also cannot ignore that PR relationships do exist and have for decades (hell, we could go back centuries and find examples of PR relationships across multiple noble and royal families – think about that, naysayers). It was my dad who first sold me on the possibility of Antonia being PR. So, I will consider this road to PR-ville in the same manner as I did the Nest of Vipers theory – with this PR theory having perhaps the better claim.

I mentioned earlier that the General Audience almost certainly paid little attention to Antonia’s existence at the Boss event. Although some people may find what I’m about to say a bit unkind, it doesn’t make it any less valid (and I’m not saying it to be cruel): Antonia, in the overall scheme of things, is of very little importance to the General Audience. She has less than 15 thousand followers on Instagram, even after being connected to a man who has almost three million. However, oddly enough, that didn’t prevent the Daily Mail from dropping a story which predominantly focused on Antonia within the same timeframe that images from the Boss event were being dropped on the Internet. It also didn’t prevent video footage of Luke and Antonia at the Boss event from being leaked online almost immediately – even when there were undoubtedly more famous celebrities attending the event. I’ll be realistic with this next comment, too: Luke may be relevant to the Bridgerton fandom, but that does not mean he is significant to, say, People Magazine’s average reader. So, why the sudden burst of publicity at this event?

I waited to write this entry to see what Luke did with the exposure from the Boss event. Would he finally put Antonia on his Instagram grid? Would he put her in his Instagram stories? Would Antonia post pictures from the event on her Instagram grid or stories? Would Luke unambiguously acknowledge a relationship with Antonia?

Although Luke posted to his Instagram grid and stories about the event, he did not include Antonia – at least not directly. The closest he came to including Antonia was via an Instagram story – on which he did not tag her – of a black screen with a link to a Boss TikTok that included images of Luke and Antonia from the event. The TikTok did not tag Antonia either. Luke did not post Antonia’s image to his grid or his stories.

And Antonia didn’t post about the event at all.

I wasn’t sold on a PR narrative when I started writing this entry, but my eyebrows raised when I saw Luke’s “black screen” Instagram story. This was either Luke attempting to circumvent the Lutonia narrative while throwing Antonia a bone, or it was Luke being an absolute douche of a human being. And, if it’s the latter, Mr. Newton needs to check himself into Assholes Anonymous.

I will concede that a couple of mutuals put up a few stories about the event (which disappeared after 24 hours) and Boss included (and tagged) Luke and Antonia in an Instagram and TikTok reel – without formally identifying Antonia as Luke’s girlfriend. On a side note, Luke could have reposted either of these reels – which tagged Antonia – but he did not. Luke also did not like this Boss Instagram reel with Antonia in it (and he does not have a public TikTok account), but Luke did like a separate Boss post of him and David Beckham (without Antonia). The only news outlets that called Antonia Luke’s “girlfriend” were rag-mags like the Daily Mail and Hello, both of which put an emphasis on Antonia. Digital Spy noted that Luke and Antonia “have yet to officially confirm their relationship.” So outside of some tagged reels (that weren’t reposted or acknowledged by Luke) and rag-mag speculation, what did Antonia get from this?

Dad: Publicity.

A single word but one that resonates throughout an otherwise silent wood.

But to be honest, I’m not entirely convinced this was for publicity. I’m not saying I believe Antonia is Luke’s girlfriend either – that’s a whole cauldron of contradictions on its own. I’m simply intrigued that Antonia has her Instagram tags turned off and she has not yet allowed any Boss event tags to appear on her page. So, outside of some junky rag-mag callouts and a few TikToks, what benefit did Antonia receive? And, if Antonia didn’t truly benefit from this appearance (or, at least she doesn’t appear to be reaping the rewards from a girlfriend or PR standpoint), who did benefit?

I mentioned at the beginning of this post that a series of events had happened one after the other over a relatively short two-week period: (1) Luke’s mum mentioning “Luke’s girlfriend…from Cyprus” in a Facebook response; (2) leaked video and photos of Luke from a funeral; (3) those utterly ridiculous pap pictures of Nicola and Jake; (4) Nicola stating she and Luke were “just friends” in an interview; and (5) the sudden summoning of Antonia after exactly six months of being MIA.

As I sat here writing out the events of the past two weeks – and considering the reappearance of Antonia – I couldn’t help but speculate as to whether each of these events was meant to have a specific purpose that didn’t get its desired result.

The comment by Luke’s mother was so far out in left field, most Lukolas chucked it up to being suspicious and dismissed it as such. The funeral pictures and video released by one of Luke’s family members was quickly scrubbed from social media; therefore, just as quickly ignored. The pap pictures of Nicola and Jake were openly mocked across social media as being staged. The “just friends” comment – after almost a year of, particularly, Nicola dodging that phrase – didn’t seem to send many Lukolas overboard. Is it possible that the fandom’s mild reaction to all these events wasn’t anticipated? Which leads me to wonder if Luke and Nicola wanted a reaction and realized the only way they were going to get it was to play the only card they had left – Antonia.  

When you look at the above referenced events individually and collectively, they appear to indicate a push to shut down the Lukola narrative. Why?

They could have shut down the Lukolas before the World Tour even took off. They could have shut down the Lukolas during the World Tour. They could have shut down the Lukolas after Papsmear. Why wait almost a full year to draw the line in the sand? Especially after every devoted Lukola would argue that (mostly) Nicola has left a trail of Swiftie-like clues to insinuate Lukola is real, and that Luke has made a visible effort to remove Antonia from his narrative.

Whatever the reasoning may be, we must admit Antonia’s reappearance had a purpose – and one that we need to respect. I have a hard time believing Luke would voluntarily step in the same pile of dog shit he stepped in back in June without a valid and significant reason for doing so.

And this is where I will draw the line.

I will not speculate further about why Antonia suddenly rose from the ashes of Manderley – and I will not tell you which road to take from here. That’s something you need to do on your own but, be warned that regardless of which road you choose – the one where you conclude Luke and Antonia are a couple, or the one where you decide Antonia is playing the role of PR distraction – the Lukolas are currently fighting a losing battle.

The Lukolas have become collateral damage. They’ve either been caught in the crossfire of an online war between Luke and Nicola (and their respective sidekicks) over, presumably, Antonia; or they’re the unwitting victims of some messy PR bullshit that has resulted in Lukolas being bullied across every social media platform by rabid Jakolas and Anti-Lukes.

Amazingly, though, many Lukolas remain resilient.

When the going gets tough…

But sometimes the tough don’t get going.

Yesterday, someone wrote to me, “Why are we still here? Just when we think something good is finally going to happen we get pushed back down. I’m tired of the dumb games.”

I rarely answer “Asks,” but my response to this comment is:

“Two roads diverged in a wood…”

Two roads.

One road is quite disheartening and the other is shrouded in underbrush.

But what you've overlooked is that there is an alternate path – a third road – the one that brought you to this point.

Turn around.

That road takes you back home – and, if you’re ready to go home, go home. It’s okay. It takes an unbelievable amount of courage to admit you’ve had enough. Remember that saying – “A wise woman once said, ‘fuck this shit,’ and she lived happily ever after.”

Take your time and decide what makes the most sense to you.

Dad: What are you thinking?

Me: Of a poem.

Dad: Oh, which one today?

Me: “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I – I took the one less traveled by…”

Dad: Which road is that…?

P.S. Just for a bit of comic relief at the end of an otherwise somber post (not even Dad could make it lighthearted), I just wanted to say:

I love eating grapes.

IYKYK.

Those links I promised:

[theyluvpeach]

black out.

chris takes care of you after you get a little too drunk at his frat ⋆ ★ dealer!reader x client!chris blurb!! pt 2 to your vibes are off :)

Since Chris was actually able to sleep last night, he's able to enjoy this party. He's not a huge fan of parties at his frat back to back, but when it's when of his favorite themes? Hell yeah.

Black Out is the simplest and funniest party theme ever, and since his entire wardrobe is already all black, he never has to go out and buy anything. The biggest thing he did to prepare for this party was trade his usual black shirt for a black tank top.

He was having a good time. Winning a few games of beer pong, losing a few of them, dancing with girls.

Then he saw you. He hates you immensely, really. Your mini black dress and star printed tights brought you so much attention that you might as well have dropped a metal water bottle in a dead silent classroom.

You make him wanna claw his heart out of his chest and blend it up. You, you're different from all the other girls. You give him a feeling that's unrecognizable while a heated kiss or even having sex with a girl does nothing for him. That's annoying as fuck.

He chugs down his beer as he watches you flirt with Aiden, one of his frat brothers. Whatever.

He's starting to think that he's the only one here who has common sense. You're actively stumbling and holding onto the wall to help you walk, and no one's helping you. He knows frat bro's are assholes, but what the hell?

He was going to send Matt to help you since you're friends, or Aiden even. All he is to you is a client, but again. Whatever. He can't find either of them. He hasn't been watching you or anything, but you are insanely hard to miss. He wonders how he failed to see you get this drunk.

He stares at you as you try to stumble to get to your destination. How is he supposed— "Matt?" You slur, turning your head towards him. "I've been looking for you all night." You throw yourself into his arms, he catches you. God, you're wasted. "Chris." He corrects you, staring down at your glittery covered eyelids. "You....you look a lot like Matt... right now." You tilt your head at him, "Triplets, remember?"

The gasp you do is adorable enough to make a smile end up on his face. "Ohhhhhhhhhh," You drag out. "I forgot." He changes the topic. "You're wasted."

"Yeah."

He rolls his eyes. "You come here with anyone?"

"Mh....." He watches as your eyes unfocus. "I.... don't think so." You're unbelievable. "You don't think so, Kid—?"

"Remember...walking here.....I think." You stutter out. He can't believe you're real. "From where?"

"My apartment." You say, giving him an intoxicated smile. "You don't look too happy with me."

"The closest apartments to campus are a ten minute walk. We started this thing at seven o'clock, are you fuckin' stupid? Why would you walk here—" He watches your eyebrows furrow before you drunkly attempt to push him away. He holds onto you harder. "M not stupid." You mumble, "My truck doesn't work."

"You still shouldn't have—"

"N my roommate doesn't like parties, and her boyfriend drives her around every where—" You interrupt, "It's not safe to walk around at night—"

"N, I don't think she really likes me anymore cause' I think she found out that I sell drugs—"

"Kid—"

"M not stupid." He huffs, "Yeah, but it's not—"

"I didn't have a—" He slams his hand over your mouth. "You're not stupid, okay? You're really smart, and you know what really smart girls do? They give me her phone so I can call their roommate and tell them you're staying here tonight." He watches you blink at him. Once, then twice. "Staying.....here?"

"I just got my car cleaned, I'm not giving you the chance to throw up in it."

"Oh...... My phone's dead."

"You remember her number, right?" He removes his left arm, that's wrapped around you to reach into his back pocket for his phone. "She changed her number cause' she was getting too many spam calls n I can't remember it."

What the fuck.

Chris leaves the whole calling your roommate problem for later. Right now, he's focused on you and carrying you to his room. After he's done, he's gonna pray that Matt isn't in the middle of a heated make-out session and can hopefully help him with you.

"You better not throw up." He says, finally opening the door to his room that ends your treacherous journey. "M not, I promise." You mumble, "Off—" You say, starting to slip off the straps of your dress.

He doesn't really understand what you're talking about until he turns around from closing his door, "Woahwoahwoah— Kid—" Luckily, he only sees you start to pull it down. He quickly covers his eyes. "You can't just strip!"

"But I'm uncomfortable!" He hears you whine, "I'll get you something to sleep in, alright?— Just pull your dress back up!" He quickly picks out a hoodie from his closet, when he turns around and finds you face planting on his bed is when he notices the zipper on your dress.

"Kid."

"Mhnfp..?" You let out a noise that gets muffled by his bed sheets. "There's a zipper."

"Oh." He watches you sit up and grab at the back of your dress, attempting to pull at the zipper. "Can't." You whine. "Chris..?"

He swallows and drops the hoodie he picked out for you on his bed. He shifts closer to your spot on the bed, moves your hair out of the way, then unzips your dress. Giving him the perfect view of the mini angel wings you have tattooed on your back.

His heart physically hurts. "Thanks." You mutter, not caring that your dress just fell off your body in front of him, thank God he's facing your back side.

"Hoodie." He reminds you, you slip it on, and turn around towards him. "Gonna go get Matt n were gonna get you water and—" His words die in his throat as you pull off your star tights. "Ah."

"Itchy." Is all you give as an explanation before you're crawling up to where his pillows are and hide yourself under the covers. He's so happy his hoodie covers your ass.

"You're not gonna throw up in my bed, right?" You shake your head into his pillows, "Kid, I swear—"

"I promise!— I'm not gonna throw up in your bed." He watches you curl yourself into a ball, "Night, Chris." You say sleepily, falling asleep immediately.

He observes you for a moment, taking in how cute you look in his hoodie. "Night, Kid."

tags 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚: @inspiredangel @whore4mattsturniolo @domizzzsstuff @sosasturns

[luvrrszn]

friends, right?

RAFE CAMERON x FEM READER

summary being rafe's best friend is already pretty darn good—but it's not enough

warnings angst, fluff, mentions of ward..., not proofread

a/n bruhhh the rafe obsession is real rn...

masterlist

being rafe's best friend had it's perks.

his undivided attention, sharing his kook privileges, and front-row seats to whatever questionable life choices he made (free entertainment 24/7 basically).

it also had it's downsides, being that you were just that. his best friend.

—

you were the camerons' neighbour. you'd lived next to them on figure eight for years, and you'd grown up alongside sarah. being best friends with her meant that you spent most of your time at her house, and that led to you and rafe developing a friendship.

almost everyone thought that you and rafe were dating, especially since neither of you bothered to correct them. however, nothing ever lessened the sting of the harsh reminders that you two were, in fact, not an item.

when sarah started hanging out with john b and the pogues, she didn't leave you behind. you became friends with everyone else too, much to rafe's initial dismay. he eventually came around when it became clear that both you and sarah were not going to stop hanging out with the pogues just because rafe "didn't like it".

so it became routine. almost every day, rafe would come to pick you and sarah up from the cut.

—

it was a day like any other. after hanging out at the chateau, everyone went their separate ways. you and sarah were waiting at the dock for rafe when you saw a familiar boat come into view.

rafe came into view, shirtless. his body was toned, sweat dripping down the side of his forehead. his hair was in a short buzz again, a haircut you'd teased him about multiple times.

you were about to say hello when you noticed a girl in the boat, wearing the tiniest red bikini.

sarah gets onto the boat first, throwing her bag onto a seat as she says, "hey. what's going on?"

"beach day. we're heading home now." rafe replies, offering you the usual hand as you step into the boat.

the girl has an unpleasant expression, as if rotten fish had been dragged on board. barely sparing in your direction, she stands up and wraps her arms around rafe's waist, resting her head against his back as he turns the boat around.

the whole ride back to figure eight, you're left wondering what she has that you don't.

—

and it wasn't like you were delusional either.

rafe had definitely been dropping hints, and giving you signals. there'd be some days where you were cooking for you and sarah in their house, and he'd walk up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, burying his face in your hair.

there'd even be some days where you'd all be watching a movie in the camerons' home theater, and rafe would cuddle up next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

—

about a week later, you're at sarah's house again. feeling thirsty, you decide to go downstairs to grab a drink of water. you walk past rafe's room and you hear topper saying, "dude, what happened to that chick? the girl you were with last week?"

you couldn't help but stop to eavesdrop.

"dude she was so fucking clingy, i had to get rid of her ass." you heard rafe chuckle.

"bullshit. you just don't want anyone who isn't" topper continues. when you hear him end the sentence with your name, your heart skips a beat. your curiosity is peaked, wondering what rafe will say in response.

"nah. she's too much of a pogue to be anything. plus, she's my best friend."

your heart drops. too much of a pogue?

you thought rafe wasn't bothered by your friends, not anymore.

you go downstairs and walk straight out of the front door, without so much as a word to anyone.

—

sarah has called you, multiple times. you finally pick up and make an excuse about feeling unwell, and that you're sorry for leaving so abruptly.

you'd just stepped out of the shower, trying to scrub off the feeling that lingered on your skin after finding out what rafe truly felt, when your phone buzzed with a text from rafe.

beefy: hey bug, sarah said you left without staying for dinner cause you weren't feeling well but i know you're bullshitting. you were literally fine, i heard you laughing from sarah's room. what's up?

you: i'm fine

beefy: don't lie to me

you: ofc you'd say that

frustrated, you throw your phone onto your bed and ignore the dozen texts from rafe for the rest of the night.

—

for the rest of the week, you ignore rafe. you don't say hi when you go over to his house, you don't say hi at the country club, and you don't text him, not even once.

you walk straight past him at parties, without so much as a glance in his direction.

but he figures he'll leave you alone for a while, just while he figures out what he's done so he can properly apologise.

he realises he's out of time when he sees you dancing with some guy who has his hand resting on your waist.

he storms over, and throws you over his shoulder, walking towards the front door as people around him move out of the way.

"rafe, what the fuck are you doing? put me down!" you whisper angrily, hitting your fists against his back. he doesn't say a word, and only sets you down on the pavement outside the massive mansion the party was in.

you recognise the look in his eyes, the anger. but it was never ever directed at you. except today.

"what the fuck were you doing in there?" he grits out.

"dancing, rafe, mygosh. and i was having fun too!" you groan, exasperated. it had been your pathetic attempt to move on.

"dancing like that? in front of all our friends?"

"not my friends rafe. your friends. my friends are the pogues, which i guess makes me too much of a pogue for you, huh." you don't notice when tears start to roll down your face.

it makes him go pale.

he made his sweet girl cry.

he uses his thumb to wipe away your tears as he says

"look, i didn’t mean it the way it came out. i was just frustrated because you’re always hanging out with the pogues, and it’s been bugging me. i was angry and said something stupid—because the idea of you getting closer to them, it just... it didn't sit right with me. i like you, a lot. more than best friends like each other. i was worried that you spending so much time with the pogues meant you'd develop feelings for one of them, and i was an idiot. i was a jealous prick, and i said something i didn't mean. i'm sorry, bug."

"rafe, you're a fucking idiot." you grumble as you bury your face in his chest while he wraps you in a tight hug. a hug so tight, as if rafe thought you'd slip away if he didn't hold on tight enough.

—

the next morning, sarah catches you slipping out of rafe's room. she chuckles, and says, "took you two idiots long enough."

[delugyu]

hi!! i was wondering if i could request a one shot based on the GGUM mv where yeonjun is a cocky and bratty k pop idol that belittles everyone and basically the reader is like his mananger who’s had enough of his behavior and decides to teach him a lesson and he’s super submissive.

btw i LOVE your writing. cold, curse city was amazing <3

jumped for joy when i saw submissive yeonjun YAYYYYYYY (also thank you!!! hehe)

(wc: 2k / warnings: mean dom!reader, sub!yeonjun, reader’s kind of a bitch but yeonjun is too so it’s okay, degradation, humiliation, oral kinda idk eating pussy thru the panties, unprotected sex, edging..?)

you’re pretty sure that the biggest source of your headaches on any given day is the man you’re watching right now—on a tuesday at eight in the morning—who’s trying to convince you that the interviewer deserved it earlier when he called her an idiot.

“yeah, no. that’s never happening again,” you say plainly, cutting off his long-winded explanation. if only he could catch on when you’re trying to leave no room for argument, but unfortunately he has the most major case of lacking respect and decorum that you’ve ever seen.

“so you think it was okay for her to say that being bratty is my whole brand?” he asks.

“well, if you keep acting the way you do, then you can’t be surprised if that’s what people focus on.” you won’t lie: his brash personality is definitely good for gaining attention. his PR team never has to work too hard, since they know yeonjun’s going to do something stupid to get him on the news anyway. you’re jealous, cause you’re over here busting your ass to make sure he doesn’t go too far and ruin his career.

“i’d be selling a fake image if i was out there kissing babies and shaking hands,” yeonjun says.

“so the better alternative is running your mouth until half the country wants you beaten up?” you don’t want him to act like someone he’s not, but you also don’t want him to be such a dick to everyone.

“stop acting like you know me or the things i want,” he says. it lights a fire inside of you, rage burning at his insinuation. “i don’t want a nice, clean image. i fucking hate it when you try to force that onto me.”

he walks away into his dressing room, probably done with you and this conversation, but you’ve had it. you’re pissed, and he needs to learn that he doesn’t sit on top of the world. you mutter out quick apologies to the staff you push past in your haste to follow yeonjun.

before you can step into the room, yeonjun slams the door in front of your face. “yeonjun, are you fucking kidding me?!” you bang your fist against the door when turning the knob doesn’t work.

“go away,” he says from behind the door. you let out something like a growl in your frustration, feeling like you might just rip all your hair out. it’s too early to already be doing this.

“why do you throw fits every time i try to tell you to have some respect? you can never just bite your tongue for a second.”

you’re met with silence. you hate when he starts tuning you out. you’ll have to pop a few tylenols after this to keep your headache from killing you.

you start up once more, “you think anyone’s gonna look at your art before they look at you as a person? what’s the point in making good music if the person behind it is such a jackass?”

again, no reply. you sigh, running your hands down your face as you try to collect yourself. this isn’t worth it. he’s never going to change.

“i’m thinking i should just quit and let you deal with whatever asshole comes in after me,” you say, just trying to stir him into giving you a response now. you usually keep yourself from going back and forth with him like this, but he’s been on your nerves way too much recently. you were bound to explode with how much he’s been testing you.

the door finally opens. you don’t waste a second when you push it wider and enter the room, shutting it behind you. he’s crossing his arms, eyebrow raised like he’s waiting for you to scold him some more.

“you actually gonna quit, or was that all talk?” he asks.

you scowl and push on his shoulders until he’s sitting on one of the chairs. his eyes widen for a second like he’s surprised you actually put your hands on him. he should be grateful you don’t do worse.

“listen, i’m not going to take your shit anymore. i’m not giving you a choice. you need to have some respect.” you look down at him with ice cold eyes. he squirms a little in his seat; you almost find it funny.

“i don’t know how you expect me to do that. this is just how i am,” he counters.

“shutting your mouth would be a good start.” you put your hand over his lips when he opens them to start talking again. “see, you’re already trying to bark. just listen.”

you keep your hand there, and you’re kind of surprised that he doesn’t even try to move you away. your other hand grips the back of his chair so that you’re leaning over him, and you finally feel like you’re more powerful than him. you feel like he might listen to you for once.

“if you don’t want to be seen as a brat, then don’t be a brat,” you say. “you can have a tough image without annoying everyone. people see you more as a toddler than as some cool guy.”

his eyes dart down, and you realize that, with you leaning over him, he has a great view of your cleavage. he’s staring at your tits. scandalized, you grab his jaw to tilt his head all the way up, so he can either stare at the ceiling or look at your face. he chooses the ceiling.

“are you trying to make me hate my job? do you want me to quit?” you ask.

his eyes find yours at that, and you’re a little surprised to not find any fight in them. he shakes his head and keeps his mouth shut.

“you can answer now,” you say, letting go of his jaw.

“don’t quit, i like you as my manager,” he answers quickly. you huff out a laugh.

“well you sure as hell don’t act like it.”

“i’m sorry,” he apologizes—and sounds completely sincere, too.

you stand up straight, assessing him silently. you let your eyes rake down his body, noticing how he doesn’t move an inch. looks like you’ve finally put him in his place. it’s such a shame that it practically takes you bullying him to get to this point.

“so you’re gonna cool the tough guy act?” you ask.

“i dunno, maybe you should test how obedient i can be,” he prompts with a growing smile. wow, and you were doing so well.

“get off that chair.” immediately he does, standing up and waiting for his next instruction. you laugh at how pathetic his switch up is. you’d love for the nation to see yeonjun now, so eager to follow your orders. how far will he go?

you decide to test it out. “kneel.”

he’s just as quick to follow through with that, too. a power rush is already surging inside you, pumping adrenaline through your body. he looks up at you from his position on his knees. there’s still some space between you, though.

“come a little closer. crawl to me.” your pleased smile stays on your face as you watch him obey, keeping eye contact as he inches toward you.

“this is so funny,” you say as you look down at him. for the first time in your life, you see him look embarrassed. his eyes dart off to the side, unable to take the torment. “eyes on me. don’t you dare try looking away again.”

his cheeks glow with a subtle red tint, you notice as you take in his face. “would you be so kind as to apologize to me again?” you ask.

“i’m sorry,” he answers promptly.

“hm. better than that.”

he looks confused, but you know he’s desperate to follow because he’s quick to oblige. “i’m sorry i was such a brat to you and everyone else.”

“you were a brat. what do you think brats like you deserve?”

you feel him shiver. “punishment,” he answers meekly.

“that’s right.” you place your foot on his crotch, not paying any mind to how hard he is already. “what a shame you were so bad. you could’ve came today.” you take your foot off him and spread your legs apart. “get me nice and wet for your cock.”

“w-what?” he stammers, looking up at you all scandalized.

“i’m not in the mood to repeat myself.” with all the eagerness he’s ever had, yeonjun grips onto your thighs and dips his head beneath your skirt. he starts licking your cunt over your panties, tongue working adamantly against you like he’s scared to do it wrong or poorly.

you sigh, relaxing into the feeling. this is better stress relief than any amount of medicine could give you. maybe you’ll be resorting to this more often.

he wraps his lips around your clothed clit and sucks, then swipes his tongue across the swollen bud. he’s deeply focused on pleasuring you, repeating any little action that makes your legs twitch. you hate to admit it, but he’s getting you wet so fast.

“guess this is the only way to shut you up, huh?” you ask, and you feel him nod in response. “should i do this more then?”

“yes,” he pulls away to say, replacing his mouth with his fingers rubbing quickly against you. “do it as much as you want.”

“is the promise of pussy the only way you’ll—fuck, just like that—respect me?” his fingers run wildly over your clit, desperation oozing off of him.

“only yours. i’ll do anything for it.” he presses into your core, grinding his hand against you. “you’re so wet. please sit on my cock.”

you hum, wanting to say no and torture him more, but you can’t deny how bad you want to feel him inside you.

“sit on the chair and undo your pants,” you instruct. you slide off your panties as he does that.

you sit on his lap and give his dick a few quick jerks before aligning it with your entrance. he makes more noise than you do as you sink onto him, which would make you snicker if you weren’t so busy adjusting to his size.

“you moan like a bitch,” you hiss out as you finally take all of him in. you stay bottomed out for a minute, letting yourself get used to the stretch, grinding your hips every now and then to hear him whine.

“please move, i need more,” he says after a minute.

“don’t tell me what to do.” you start moving anyway—not because he begged you to, but because you’re getting needier for your orgasm. “this isn’t about you, brat.”

he keeps whining as you bounce on his dick, throwing his head back and dropping his mouth open. he sounds so much better when he’s moaning like a whore instead of bitching at everyone on earth.

you gasp when you feel his fingers on your clit, playing with the bud with endless need. even when he bites his lip, little noises keep spilling out of him, and a part of you is almost afraid that someone’s going to hear him.

“i’m close,” you say as you lean back a little, letting his dick hit a new spot inside of you. his eyes shine when he sees your body start twitching.

“i want you to cum so bad, please please give it to me!” his begging throws you ever the edge, biting your lip so you don’t make any sound. breathy little noises escape you instead, which yeonjun seems to like just as much.

you swat his hand away when it becomes too much, catching your breath while you ignore yeonjun’s twitching dick inside of you. yeonjun’s losing his patience, grabbing your hips needily.

“i need to cum too,” he says, brows upturned and almost looking pitiful. you enjoy the feeling of him inside you for a couple more seconds before getting up.

“isn’t that too bad,” you say. his jaw drops, and he goes speechless yet again. “don’t look so surprised. didn’t i tell you that you won’t be cumming today?”

the betrayal on his face suddenly makes this job worth every penny.

[slimepuparibaba]

Chaos in Linkon: AU where each of the LADS guys have an MC and also they all know each other

I want to make something like Chibi Linkon Report except it's with me and my friends and sisters MCs alongside the Love Interests and they all know each other

The MCs are like this:

Xavier's MC is one of the best sword wielders and an overall kind and caring hunter who helps people and is just as much a Disney Princess as Xavier who loves to garden and loves animals... but also she's a chronic insomniac and cannot sleep for her life, appears at Xavier's bedroom door like a sleep paralysis demon at 3AM, standing there silently, not wanting to wake him up so she just stands there. Her average amount of sleep is 1 hour. It's bad. It's really bad. Please help her. It's not even nightmares, it's just she literally cannot sleep.

Zayne's MC is seen as a role model in the workplace for her maturity, her poise, a reliable older sister figure to everyone... also she cannot taste anything, her taste buds don't work, so she likes the most extreme kind of food, accidentally gave Zayne the food she prepared for herself, it was way too fucking spicy to actual inhumane standards. Also, has a slight fear of doctors, just does not like visiting the hospital, going to checkups, etc. Zayne literally has to coax her for any of her check-ups with a date or a movie night after the fact. Her visits would be less frequent if she just stopped overworking herself so much (workaholic).

Rafayel's MC is beauty and grace, always wearing a smile and it's rare to see her upset about anything, a very cheerful person! She loves music, loves the ocean, perfect compliment to Rafayel! ...but also she is actually very scary, loves tragedy and horror and thrillers and slashers, and one time Rafayel walked in on her in the kitchen as she was holding a knife and there was red on her face (it was from some ketchup, but she looked terrifying). The moment she stops smiling is the day Linkon will be destroyed. Also, she cannot draw.

Sylus' MC is a temperamental girl that's sharp-tongued and strong-willed, as well as very headstrong. Sylus of Onychinus is her mortal enemy... until they're in a private space, then she's constantly seeking out his attention and getting pampered by him. Jumpy, actually a cat, and only fights Sylus because that's her love language apparently. She also has a corkboard in Onychinus' base solely for her insane ramblings about any conspiracies about Ever or the Aether Core and has lost sleep explaining it to him (and he just watches before putting her to bed).

Caleb's MC is the sweet, adorable little sister figure everyone loves, and is relatively shy at first glance but very friendly and a bit of a nerd! She also makes plushies for her friends! ...but also touch Caleb and you're dead. No, seriously, touch him and you're dead. She knows everything about Caleb, she has known him since they were kids, if anyone even thinks of hurting him or taking him away from her, they are dead. Touch him and you're dead. Did you know she made a plushie of him to keep her company while he was away, and that she stole one of his hoodies? And by one, we mean multiple? Do not touch her gege. Touch her gege and you're dead. That is her gege, her gege is hers, he is literally hers, she is just as much his as he is hers, do not fucking TOUCH HER GEGE—

Basically, all the girls are the same but also slightly different from their love interest. They compliment each other well.

Also the boys regularly hang out with the girls and it's funny because of how much of a found family all of them seem to be.

The girls all already see each other as sisters, so they're very close and like to spend time with one another. They give each other advice, drop by each other's apartments... they were all with each other during the initial days of the shelter due to being experimented on for the Aether Core (Yes, all of them have Aether Core fragments and are deemed Experiments 001-a, 001-b, 001-c, 001-d, and 001-e. They're part of the same Experiment Line due to their aether cores being so similar to each other.) Each girl has a super strong resonation with their partner. They can only exist in a universe where their partner is. This timeline is unique because all of them are now existing at once in one place at the same time, which is an abnormality and why Ever wants them so bad.

The boys "hate" each other with every fiber of their being, typically finding ways to insult each other or poke fun of someone. But also they all are definitely brothers in arms and do care for each other (somewhat, they would never admit it). Despite not knowing all the details, they know of each others' circumstances. All agree that if the time comes, they'd put aside their differences for the sake of their loved ones and try to reach a conclusion all of them would be satisfied with.

They're a mixed friend group that do hang out pretty often, and one of them somehow named themselves the "Aether Core Investigation Team".

I wanna post more about this AU and maybe make small drawings or comics of them cuz I just think it's fun.

Also Caleb mentioning there was an Experiment 001-f off-handedly to the guys and the guys immediately questioning who the fuck it is, where she went, as well as who their soul resonates with and why no one heard anything about them, only to say he was the only one who remembered they existed because all the others in the Experiment 001 line died and forgot. 001-f just randomly disappeared after that, so he does not know who they are or where they are anymore or if they even exist. AKA 001-f will be made once the 6th LI comes out and we finally coax one of our friends into finally playing the game.

ALSO FUN FACT: ALL MCS ARE NAMED AND HAVE BEEN MENTIONED SOMEWHERE ON AO3 BEFORE, BUT I WAS NOT THE ONE WHO WROTE ABOUT THEM! IT WAS MY SISTER! LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANNA FIND OUT WHERE, IT'S A FIC FROM CALEB'S MC'S PERSPECTIVE :D

[aurorawritestoescape]

GIVE ME HELL

Stepdad Joel Miller x f!reader || 1,9 k

part 4 of A Step Into Hell || can be read alone

Summary: you come home drunk and Joel isn’t happy. He decides to teach you a lesson.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, step-cest, Joel's POV, dub con (alcohol intoxication) but reader's very into it, big legal age gap, dark!Joel, mean!Joel, possessive!joel, jealous!Joel, pussy/cock pronouns, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, degradation, slut shaming, a lil bit of praise kink, daddy kink, spanking (1), cum eating, mention of alcohol consumption, mention of unplanned pregnancy, swearing. The pics are for the mood only. Reader has no specific physical descriptions but wears a skirt.

A/n: huge thank you to 🎯 anon for the hottest thots😘 I used the schoolgirl skirt idea in this story, it suited the plot perfectly! Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing and for loving the mf💋I hope you all will enjoy this part! Love you!💞

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

SERIES MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST

Here you were. Miss ‘I need daddy’s cock to sleep’ came back from a party, looking like a whore. Who was surprised? Not Joel. A tight top was showcasing your gorgeous tits perfectly, a schoolgirl skirt was so short it was barely covering your ass. But what grabbed Joel’s attention immediately was your slightly smudged make up and your glossy eyes. Even in the dim light of the tv illuminating the dark living room Joel could see that you were drunk.

Probably trying not to sway, you purposefully leaned against the doorframe to say hi to your mother, your voice slightly higher than usual.

Joel wasn’t fooled by your act. A mix of rage and arousal set his body and mind on fire.

Drunk slut! Probably dragged your ass home after being groped and rubbed against all night. What if some horny frat boy fucked you?

Joel’s blood started boiling and your mother’s nonchalant attitude to the sight of you made him clench his fists even harder.

You needed to be punished. What wouldn’t he give to bend the whore over his lap and spank your juicy ass and slutty pussy. Fuck! His wife was next to him on the couch.

“How was the party?” she asked you with a smile.

“ ‘s ok. Going to bed. Good night.”

And you turned around and went upstairs. No! Not gonna happen. You weren’t getting out of it so easily.

Joel turned to his wife with his brows furrowed, having put a mask of virtuous concern on his face and hiding his semi with a throw blanket.

“Aren’t you gonna talk to her?”

”What about?”

“Her state? You ok with it?”

Your mother gave him a shrug.

“Yeah, she’s a little drunk but .. she’s been at a party. And she’s old enough to decide for herself whether to drink or not.”

Joel clenched his jaws but then took a deep breath, calming his nerves, and returned his eyes to the tv. Then he mumbled matter-of-factly, feigning his interest in the show,

“Hope ya ready to become a grandma then.”

He saw his wife fidget on the couch. Yeah, now someone was concerned!

“Why? What do you mean?”

“I mean that if you let her behave like that, then wait for her to get knocked up by some blogger or any other unemployed fucker. No college, no career. Doubt your ex’s gonna be happy that she ruined her future right under your nose.”

Joel glanced at his wife and shrugged like she’d done earlier. The naive bitch looked really worried.

Daddy Joel to the rescue!

“Honey, don’t panic. I’ll handle it. Let me talk to her. As a father figure.”

“Really? You’ll do that?” his wife asked with hope in her voice. Joel took her hand and looked into her eyes.

“Of course. I care about her. Very much.”

He wasn’t lying. You were his perfect fucktoy and he took care of the things that belonged to him.

“Don’t be too harsh on her,” his wife said as Joel got up and quickly adjusted his perked up cock.

“I’ll be gentle, don’t worry.”

Of course that was a lie. When Joel came up to your bedroom, he unceremoniously stormed in and locked the door behind him.

You were standing at your desk, smiling at your phone, probably sending out 1000000 slutty selfies from the party all over the internet.

“Hey! You can’t just barge in like that?” you exclaimed, pouting your pretty lips.

Joel placed his hands on his hips and grumbled with a glare,

“Wrong! It’s my house and I can do whatever the fuck I want. You on the other hand —,” he pointed his thick index finger in your direction and barked, ”— can’t!”

“What?” You seemed confused and tired but all Joel cared about at that moment were his heavy balls and stiffening cock, locked and loaded to ruin his stepdaughter’s hole.

” ’m here to have a talk with you.”

You giggled, “What talk? The birds and the bees?”

“Somethin like that,” Joel grunted, taking a step to you, and then pushed you to your desk.

“Joel!” you half whispered, half exclaimed, trying to stop him with your little palms on his chest, but Hurricane Joel couldn’t be stopped. He roughly grabbed your hips and made you sit on the edge of the desk.

“No… Mom’s downstairs…,” you mumbled softly, already melting when he settled between your spread thighs.

”Then be quiet. You can cry a lil. She’ll think you’re really sorry,” Joel sneered, looking down at you. His chest swelled with pride and dominance - he was big and strong and you were just a silly girl, who foolishly thought that she could do whatever she wanted. Hell no!

“Ya think you can come to my house drunk? Lookin like a whore who’s been passed around?”

You averted your eyes in shame, murmuring,

“Mm.. no. Jus’ had a few beers.”

“Did ya have a few cocks too?”

You shook your head before Joel grabbed your chin with two fingers and tilted your face up to look into your dopey eyes.

”You let anyone use you? Which hole? Bet your sexy schoolgirl skirt is soaked with cum.”

“No-no, daddy, I didn’t…”

He slowly glided his palms down over the fabric covering your hips and then pulled your skirt up, exposing your bare cunt.

A deep growl rose from Joel’s chest before he gruffed, his voice ringing with rage,

“Ya went to the fucking party with your cunt out in the open like that? Ready to serve any cock close enough to her?”

Joel's nostrils were flaring, his fists were clenching your skirt, as he was glaring down at you. He must have looked really scary because you widened your eyes and grabbed his thick forearms.

“Oh no-no-no, Joel! I took ’em off just before stepping inside. Like you told me, remember? No panties in the house.”

His dark eyes were darting between yours, searching for any sign of deceit.

“Hope you ain’t lyin to me,” he grunted, burning you with his fiery gaze.

“I swear, daddy.”

That ‘daddy’ really helped your case. Joel got more horny than mad and looked down at your pussy. Without a word he pushed a finger into your hole and you gasped.

“Did ya wet yourself? Or just that needy?” he asked, keeping the finger inside your sopping cunt. ”Who’s all this slick for? Someone at the party caught your eye?”

“No, I… I kept thinking about you, daddy.”

Joel smirked, “Yeah? What were you thinkin?”

“You… you doing things to me.”

“Hnggg,” Joel pulled his finger out of your hole and licked his skin clean with a lopsided grin on his glistening lips.

“You got horny-drunk, yeah, babydoll? Could’ve called daddy. I woulda come down there, dragged you to the bathroom and pumped ya little cunt full.”

“Really?” you asked with a drunk smile, your heart eyes set on Joel’s face.

“Course not, dumb slut. I ain’t drivin god knows where on a Friday night to fuck you. Especially when I know that the pussy is gonna come to me.”

You scrunched your nose and pouted.

“You’re so mean.”

“Ouch, you hurt my feelings!” Joel barked a laugh and roughly grabbed your pussy, making you moan. Then he leaned down to your face, so close your lips were almost touching, and you reached up to him, initiating a kiss, but Joel pulled away and instead squeezed your cheeks with his hand.

“I ain’t kissin your beer hole. And here’s the talk I promised you.”

You pushed his hand away and glared up at him. Your stepdad grabbed the back of your neck with one hand, your pussy with the other and continued,

”Ya got drunk. And drunk girls are always in danger of bein used. I reckon you better learn this lesson at home than at a party full of strangers, uh, sweetie?”

He shook his hand full of your cunt and you whimpered a needy “yeah”.

Then Joel pulled you off the desk and roughly spun you around. You squeaked but didn’t protest. Manhandling you was always easy, like dealing with a rag doll, especially now when you were drunk.

“We don’t have much time so let’s start,” he spit and pushed you down on the desk. In a second your hands were clasped by his hand behind your back, his huge cock bulge pressed to your naked ass, your holes ready for him to use.

“Daddy, fuck me,” you whined needily, wiggling your naked ass, brushing it against his hard-on.

Joel titled his head and grinned. The bitch was really desperate. You’d always been a slut for his dick but the alcohol seemed to have made you extra horny.

“You don’t deserve my cock today, slut, but all this slick can't go to waste”.

Joel let go of your wrists, tugged his sweatpants down and freed his leaking stallion. Then he roughly stabbed you with his length and shoved it to the hilt in one go. You took him easily, your pussy dripping with need for his giant schlong, and moaned into your palm, already fluttering around him. Suddenly, Joel froze.

“Wanna come on daddy’s cock?”

“Yeahhhh.”

“Yeah? Then work for it, baby,” he ordered through gritted teeth, keeping himself from bursting inside you — your cunt felt fucking fantastic as always.

“Daddyyyy…”

Your whine only made Joel laugh. He slapped your asscheek, and growled,

“Move! If your pussy wants the fireworks, ya better ride my horse cock. I ain’t doin shit for you tonight.”

He stood still with his hands holding your hips, his throbbing cock deep to the base inside you, while watching you squirm and almost cry with frustration. You begged him again but Joel didn’t move an inch while all his inches were being soaked by your crying pussy.

Probably having realized that he was serious, clumsily and slowly, on trembling legs, you started moving your body back and forth, exposing Joel’s shaft to his eyes and then swallowing it back with the greedy mouth of your cunt.

“Yeah, sweetie. You doin it, look at ya. Take what you need. Milk him dry, babydoll.”

Joel’s praise seemed to entice you, to inject some energy into your body, and you started fucking yourself with his cock faster and harder. Slapping noises filled the room as your ass was banging against Joel rougher and rougher. Your stepdad dug his fingers into your soft hips, watching you pleasure yourself with his hard cock.

“She’s so thirsty— wants to get drunk on daddy’s hot sperm, uh? — ’ll make her swallow it all to the drop.”

Panting heavily, Joel sounded intoxicated himself while talking about your wet cunt, seeing her rhythmically sucking in his fat length and spitting it out.

“Yeah, daddy. Please.”

“Good girl—,” Joel croaked and began emptying his balls inside you, pouring all his rage and jealousy into your pulsating cunt.

You came right after, almost crying on his exploding cock, pushing your face into your palms to muffle your ecstatic moans.

When Joel filled you full of his cum, he pulled out and stood over you splayed on the desk like a used fuckdoll. He was catching his breath, watching your winking hole drip his creamy jizz, then wiped his cock with your skirt and helped you up.

”If I see you drunk again in my house, I won’t let you come for a month, ya hear me?” Joel roared and you hastily nodded. Then his lips curved into a satisfied smile.

“I’m glad we had this talk.”

He looked you up and down again, shook his head and left the room.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic!<3

SERIES MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40

People who were interested in pt 4, no pressure to read bbs: @sunshineispunk @bonezone44 @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @tateypots

[poisonf0rest]

genuine question because youre one of my favorite writers, you seem to really have a thorough grasp of the characters: what do you see in rafayel that makes him appealing? i try to get past his entitled brattiness because i really want to enjoy all of the guys, but i cant see anything else. please help me understand 🥲

Oh boy, baby, darling, sweetheart, you opened a can of worms. Come do a little bit of character analysis with me~

About Rafayel:

Rafayel is a brat, yes. But that means he wears his heart on his sleeve, outright when he needs your attention or sulking when something is bothering him or faking a dramatic accident to get your attention. There's no silent guessing or fake "I'm fine's," just his overdramatic, raw emotion that's easy to read. He's has anxious attachment stemming from hundreds of years of betrayal and loss.

Rafayel is a romantic, a yearner. And yes, while I also agree his attitude was annoying at first I am very unfortunately into people who get on my nerves, especially when they are flirty and funny as well. I folded during his hospital scene.

Entitled? He is a god. He has been trying and failing to save his entire civilization for over 800 years and still simply can't because he refuses to hurt the one he loves. While all the boys have been through pain there's something about Rafayel's story that really gets me. I think it’s because if I— as mc— knew the sacrifice he was making, I would give myself up. So to have someone selfish enough to place me first is heartbreaking, devoted, and cruel. 

Also there are plenty of scenes where Rafayel is serious, especially if you read between the lines. The brattiness and sass is a playful cover to someone who's been through pain and understands it. Someone who chooses to still see joy and happiness in his life while fully understanding how cruel the world is.

Simply, I'm a sucker for doomed character archetypes. There is no version of Rafayel's and mc's story where they both end happy. Millions of people will die or if mc kills herself Rafayel will live forever as a husk of his former self. Using a sassy, filirty, bratty attitude to cover up such a genuinely depressing story is so juicy to me.

About Me:

I'm a Zayne irl. Work is honestly the most important thing to me outside my family, I'm devoted to my hobbies and leadership positions, and I have a close circle of friends I would do anything for. I'm also fucking hilarious subjective.

I'm the eldest sibling, the guard dog, the de-facto leader for almost everything. I'm the person who had to grow up fast, to parent my immigrant parents at times, who never made space for love, and who is by default independant and comfortable with it.

I prefer to listen-- I love my yapper friends. Don't get me wrong I can talk for hours about anything, but day to day I tend to get exhausted talking after a while so I surround myself with people who can do the easy talking for me.

My irl partner is a mix between Rafayel and Sylus I'd say. He's the one who pulls me out of my work spirals by nagging me until I give in, someone I'm comfortable yapping about my current hyperfixations too, someone who my inner child can come out to. But I also enjoy being a caregiver, that's always been my role and I relish in it, I like being relied upon as much as I appreciate having someone in my life that lets me take a step back. The only part that's Sylus is how his love language is bullying me and his vibe/looks lmao, but usually I am more into raf-stereotypical pretty boys.

So, overall, the appeal of Rafayel to those that choose him:

Rafayel is for the eldest daughters who needs their inner child to be free, who needs a little bit of ridiculousness and impulsiveness in their lives.

Rafayel is for those who never got praised for their effort or strength, for those who success was the only option, who had to be perfect, reliable and serious all the time. He makes it so clear how much simply being with you means to him, constantly complimenting, flirting, and reassuring you just how much he needs you. Showing you how obsessed with you he is.

Rafayel is for those who didn't think love had a place in their lives due to shit family or life circumstances. He proves time and time again that you're the only one he loves. Even though he's lived forever, you were worth the wait and that he would wait again for you, no matter how long it takes. He proves you can be loved, and that it comes easy.

Rafayel is for those who always placed others first. He's more than willing to show you again and again you will always be first in his mind. He needs you more than he does water. Sure, you can take care of him, but he wants to be with you and take care of you, too.

Rafayel is for those who need someone else to drag them out of work/school/spiralling even when they don't want to admit it, bringing in laughter, color, and a little bit of dramatics.

Rafayel is for creators who dedicate themselves to their craft, who are scared of losing this "spark," who want to get better but constantly feel that what they create isn't enough or must be more. 

Rafayel is for hopeless romantics, those that go out of their way to surprise their friends during their birthdays, those who plan platonic dates for those they care about, those who put out so much love into the world and suddenly break when they get that love back.

Rafayel is for those used to having little siblings or those to take care of in our lives. Only while Rafayel relishes in the attention, he's also ready to give it back five-fold.

Rafayel is a switch for switch (brat for brat) lmao. He's for those who like to start on top, teasing and pushing his buttons to get all those cute reactions out of him, just until he breaks. Then he can take control and finish us up. We love vocal men.

Maybe projecting, but Rafayel is the perfect bi-girl's boyfriend. He's a classic pretty boy, unafraid to be in touch with his feminine side, a little dramatic, a little artsy. But he's also super romantic, sensitive, loving, and intense. And gosh, who could say no to those big puppy eyes?

I could probably continue to talk about Rafayel for hours, but ya, hopefully this helps answer why I and others love this man. Just continue on with the main story and read between the lines with his dialogue and I'm sure you'll pick up on it too~

[bibookdemon]

Chat. Gay chicken(?) with Shang Qinghua and Shen Yuan.

Warning for some nsfw aspects further down ;3

-Started out as SQH writing LBH as bi in PIDW, he was catering to the fans so suddenly LBH discovers he's also into men lmfao, so he writes a smut scene between LBH and another man and it is so much worse than any of the other smut. Bro did not do any of his fucking research. He has no fucking clue.

-Some of the fans eat it up but SY is like NUH UH THIS IS SHIT. And of course he writes that it's shit.

-For once, SQH writes back: 'Like YOU would know, you rich fucking asshole!' (He's gathered that SY has enough money he can sit around all day and leave bad reviews on his story.)

-SY is all 'Of course I know, idiot! Literally everyone knows how to write gay smut!!'

-And SQH is too deep in his rage to think about what he's saying so: 'Prove it then.'

-SY is also too deep. 'Come to XX on XX day.'

-They meet at a bustling coffeeshop that's super cute and geared towards couples. SY's first impression of SQH is 'wow he's short' and SQH's first impression of SY is 'yeah he looks fucking gay.' And he's pretty sure he's gonna eat his words.

-They go on a fucking coffee date. SY buys him coffee, they get a cute table in a semi-private corner, they actually get to talking and everything is kinda chill.

-SQH eventually remembers that hey, this guy is the jerk who leaves shitty comments on his story. So he tells him to man tf up and prove he knows about gay smut.

-SY is now scrambling to figure it out. He does not, in fact, know how to write gay smut. He does not, in fact, know how to prove it. So, now that he's panicking, he does the unexpected to divert SQH's attention: He slides a hand over SQH's, leans it, and kisses him right on the lips. 'How's this for gay?'

-SQH is absolutely surprised and flustered and also holy fuck that was like a really good kiss and low-key he wants to be kissed like that again but- 'still doesn't prove anything - unless you're unable to prove it'

-SY is in this too deep and has too much pride to give in. So he decides to go for another shock factor. He gets out his phone and he calls his favorite hotel. And he books a room. And SQH is just thinking to himself 'what the fuck have I gotten myself into' but of course he's not gonna back out! He has too much pride as well, and hey, a hotel room is better than his dingy little place, and maybe he also wants some more of those kisses.

-They go to the hotel in SY's car (SQH took the bus to get to the coffee shop) and then they're at the hotel and then SY is initiating a quick, sloppy kiss in the parking lot and SQH is feeling a little turned on and then- they have to go inside

-He figured SY was rich, but he didn't realize just HOW rich the bastard was. Bro got a fucking suite. It's huge, the bed is nice, the moment they're inside the room, SY's tongue is down his throat.

-After that, they both sorta stumble through the steps, SQH is too busy being turned on and wanting more kissing to recognize that SY is fumbling with everything and is sweating buckets and trembling cause he's so nervous. When it was time to put the condom on SY was so worried he was gonna rip it lmfao

-And they fuck, and it's awkward but also good, and SQH afterwards is just like 'you should prove you know how to write gay smut more often. To me.'

-SY is just like 'yeah, yeah,' he's tired and he wants to sleep and he just grabs SQH and snuggles him cause it feels right.

-Morning rolls around and they both realize what they just did + what they said they'd do in the future. And they're both looking at each other wide-eyed. And finally, SQH is all, 'Look Cucumber-bro, I don't know about you, but I had a fun time, and fuck all the stupid shit about writing gay smut, I want to BE the gay smut.'

-And SY is just like 'Ok,' because he has nothing better to say but he doesn't mind SQH's reasoning and he liked the sex.

-They'd be fucking hilarious. Poor SY doesn't know what he signed up for, SQH ends up having this endless stamina + an endless torrent of new ideas for them to try. 'I have to know how it works for the story!!! The fans are eating up my writing lately!!!!' - And SY has come to find SQH absolutely adorable and he can't say no to that cute face.

-They're just fuck-buddies at first, but they eventually develop a crush on each other, have a whole dramatic situation over that, and then start dating. (SY starts showering SQH in rich gifts lmao - some of them are useful some art, SQH loves all of them cause omg his boyfriend loves him and gift-giving is part of his love language.)

[captain-huggy-bear]

The Giggles

Pairing: Clayton Keller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI because making out and Kells getting a lil' hot and bothered...maybe a lot hot and bothered

Summary: You have your first ever kiss with Clayton and you can't stop giggling, it's fucking adorable.

Notes: The first time I ever kissed a guy (at 24) I kept giggling (did that every time he kissed me for at least a month) and I think Kells would find it fucking endearing. So that's the inspo for this.

I'm a sucker for late bloomer/inexperienced reader shit cause that be me so have this little brain rot.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

You have no idea what the fuck you are doing. It's so stupid that you've made it this far in life, your 20s, without so much as a kiss and now you're sat in Clayton Keller's car and he's looking at you like that and you're certain he's going to kiss you and you have no idea what you are doing or what you're supposed to do.

It's late, near midnight but neither of you had wanted the date to end and Clayton had suggested you go to a lookout point, sit in his car and talk for as long as you wanted. All on your terms he said, when you wanted to leave he'd take you straight back home. He's been nothing but a gentleman, it makes sitting there with him like that, alone, feel safe, comfortable.

Turns out the lookout point had a great view of the city and the stars. Turns out sitting in a car talking to Clayton Keller makes you never want to go home. There's something about the atmosphere inside the car that has you melting under his attention; the way the interior of the car is lit solely by a few internal lights that give off a cool blue light, how Clayton had put the heating on the moment he saw you shivering, heated seats turned on for added measure, his hand reaching out to rub warmth into your leg until the car warmed itself, how he moved both your seats until your headrests were inline, the fact the music was playing, but so low that it removed the awkwardness of silence while still allowing you two to be in your own bubble.

You were both facing each other in your seats, you leaning your cheek into the leather of the seat, watching him from underneath your eyelashes as he finished telling you about a story from practice. Something about the new pup Archie being brought out onto the ice and scrambling about, all four legs splaying wide as he struggled to grip the ice properly.

He's beautiful, you knew this when he first asked you to go out, but it's even more clear like this when he's smiling wide, teeth on show, dimples deepening as he laughs at the memory. You can't help the way you look at him and he can't help that he notices.

You're so fucking pretty, the way you lean your cheek against his car seat, how you tuck your legs underneath you like you're both sat in his house, on his couch. You wore the prettiest dress to the date and he's been almost incapable of ungluing his eyes from you all night, and now is no exception. In the dim lights of his car you look so fucking soft, sweet, looking up at him from underneath your lashes like he's the most interesting thing in the world.

You blink slow at him as the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, but a silence that's no less filled with tension. You can feel it, the buzz in the air that would normally be your cue to say something that ruins it, something that cuts the tension. The buzz in the air that has you swallowing nervously because his blue eyes keep dipping down to your lips, tracing them like he doesn't want to forget what they look like, like he wants a taste of you.

You try not to jump when he moves slowly, coming to lean into your space, his arm resting over the back of your seat until he's so close you can count the few freckles on his skin, and smell the expensive cologne he's wearing. Your eyes aren't sure where to look; his eyes, his lips, the way his Adam's apples bobs in his throat, that chain of his that peeks out from beneath his dress shirt.

Clay's eyes dart from your own to your lips and back again, his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip, a motion you instinctively copy. The air feels thick, heavy and there's a roiling buzz in your gut, a giddy sensation so strong you're not sure what to do with it, not sure how to relieve it or cope with it.

"Can I kiss you?"

You can't help it, the giggle slips out without your permission, a hand coming up to cover your lips as look at him all wide eyed and sweet. It's fucking adorable and he can't help the way he smirks at you, eyes becoming more heavily lidded because fuck he wants to kiss you and swallow that giggle in his mouth.

"Can I kiss you? Please, baby?" He asks again, watching the warmth flood your cheeks, the way your eyelashes flutter against the apples of them like the wings of a dove and you lower your hand, lip bitten between your teeth. You're the picture of innocent seduction and it floors him further because you have no idea what you're doing to him.

"...Yes..." Your voice is so so quiet, shy like speaking too loudly might ruin it, might break this moment.

Clayton's free hand reaches out for your cheek, fingers brushing across the warm skin with a reverence that is better suited for worship in a church than the interior of a car at 11:45pm on a Friday night. The nerves grow in your stomach as his fingers trail down, thumb pulling your lip free from between your teeth.

You have to swallow another giggle of nerves as his hand reaches your throat, lightly holding your neck, thumb brushing underneath your jaw in a soothing back and forth that has your eyelids fluttering. He's slow as he leans in, gives you time to pull away at any second, but you don't. For once in your life you stay put in this moment, in this feeling.

His lips are warm against yours, softer than you expected from a hockey player. Bottom lip plush as he captures your own between his lips, you have no idea what you're doing, but you trust your gut, follow his lead, moving your lips against his in a rhythm that you think is passable. Your hand coming up to tangle in the strands of hair at the base of his neck.

When he pulls back, he leaves little distance between you, just enough to breathe, your noses brushing. It's the overwhelming giddy feeling that surges in your stomach, in your blood that has you giggling again, face pressing into his neck to hide it, giggling like a little girl at your first kiss.

"Did you just laugh?" He's not mad, no, he can't be. Not at the cute little giggle that keeps escaping as your feet curl under you, like his kiss has given you a burst of undiluted energy. You're hiding your face into his neck, smile growing against his skin and it makes Clay's own begin, corners starting to turn up, teeth starting to peek out. His hand on your throat flexes, not constricting, just a reminder it's there, that he moved with you, his ring cool against your skin.

"I'm sorry...I don't know what I'm doing..." His smiles grow wider, pressing his face into your hair, nose nuzzling just besides your ear like this isn't the first time you've kissed, like you do this all the time.

"Have you never kissed someone before, baby?" He expects you to say you have, that it's just been a while but you don't, pulling back to look at him, eyes wide and lip back between your teeth like it's found a home there.

"I'm sorry...I...no..." and shit, if he doesn't want to puff up a little at that, that he's the first guy that ever got to kiss you, that's ever got to taste you. That he's the first guy you decided was good enough to get this close to you. That he gets to show you how a kiss should be, how you should be treated...fuck...

"Hey, don't be sorry, just tell me...the giggles are good right?" He smirks at you even as he reassures you because he doesn't want you shying away from him, doesn't want you thinking he has a single problem with how inexperienced you are, cause fuck he wants to show you everything.

You nod shyly, a confirmation that your giggle fits are nothing if not positive, an expression of all the unusual feelings, the giddy rush that fills your body every time he touches you.

"C'mere then, sweet girl," You follow his lead when he grips your hips, leading you to move across the centre console until you're straddling his lap, knees pressing into the warm leather on either side of his thighs, arms over his shoulders, stomach buzzing with nerves as you look down at him.

Clay's hand tugs the skirt of your dress down for you, eyes staying on yours, not daring to peak, covering you properly like a gentleman before you settle comfortably on his lap. His hands smooth over your thighs. His hands so large they're twice the size of yours.

"'m gonna kiss you again, okay?" It's whispered almost on your lips, his hand trailing up slowly, oh so slowly from your thigh, over your hip and ribs, almost ticklish in its course of travel, until it comes to rest back around your throat like it belongs there. Flexing just slightly so you can feel how his whole hand covers your throat, like it was made for the space. The way his ring touches your skin, cool metal against the hammering pulse at your neck, how his fingers have you, firm, but gentle in their grasp, how his bracelets tickle the hollow of your throat.

He can feel your giggle against his palm, the way your throat contracts and relaxes under his hand as you unleash it again, like you can't stop it. The most perfect fucking sound he's ever heard. The giggle you let out doesn't stop him this time, nor the way your eyelashes flutter nervously. He gets it now. You're nervous, you're giddy, your body full of those unknown feelings, things you're not used to, things he's making you feel for the first time.

Clayton's breath is warm across your lips as he hovers just over them for a second before slating his mouth back against yours. His teeth nip at your bottom lip, pulling slightly, tugging until you open up all hesitant and sweet because you had no idea what you're doing even as you giggle and sigh into his mouth, into the taste of the tiramisu he had for dessert.

You gasp at the feeling of his tongue against yours, the way he delves into you hungry, desirous but slow, not rushing as his free hand tangles in your hair, just tugging slightly at the roots. Enough that it sends a warmth through you, every inch of you tingling with a want you've never felt directed at someone before.

One hand of yours curls into his hair, freshly done nails scratching against his scalp in a way that has him groaning low in his throat, the feeling made better by the fact you don't even realise how good you are. Your other hand curling over his shoulder, nails biting into the back of his dress shirt, he wants you to leave a mark, a reminder of this moment, that he's the first man to make you feel like this. That he's the first man to have you falling apart, trembling in his lap like a simple kiss is too much.

The way he kisses you leaves you breathless, head dizzy, teeth clanking together, tongue licking into your mouth like you're the best thing he's ever tasted and you might just be. The hand at your throat tightens, not enough to constrict anything, but just enough to make your head buzz a little, to make you whimper into his mouth like this is all too much, this, something people do everyday, is too much.

You're scrabbling to find purchase on him, holding him close, tight like he's an anchor in rough storm. Every tug of his hair, every dig of your nails into his shoulder, sends tingles down his spine and he has to remind himself this is new for you. This is enough for tonight. Reminds himself not scare you off, no matter how badly he wants to flatten the car seats and climb over top of you, no matter how badly he's straining against his dress pants or how badly he wants to taste you right now. This enough.

When he releases your lips you gasp in a breath like you've been underwater, giggle quickly taking over, loud and bright and so fucking lovely. Uncontrollable as you giggle into his shoulder and he loves it, he loves the warmth of your cheeks, the brightness of your giddy smile, the way you burrow against him in your joy.

He hopes you never lose it. Hopes you giggle every single time he kisses you until the day he dies because there is nothing more beautiful than the naked, raw expression of how he makes you feel. The girlish delight at a man, a guy, you like kissing you for the first time, for the second time, maybe forever?

"Fuck, you're so beautiful..." The way he looks down at you as you're giggling on his shoulder makes you stop, breath non-existent because god, how can he look at you like that with eyes like that an not expect you to fall in love. "So pretty..."

He can't help it, dipping back down to capture your lips because fuck you're gorgeous and pliable and warm. You taste like the cocktail you drank at dinner, a little bit fruity and a little bit alcoholic.

It takes everything in Clayton to pull away. Everything in him to let your lips go, to not drag you to the backseat and spread your thighs for him, but he knows that's too much too soon, knows you need easing in if a kiss makes you have a giggle fit.

His nose nuzzles against yours, smirk firmly in place because you're already trying to hold back another giggle and he just can't help how proud it makes him, to know he's brought you to that, made you a giddy mess in his lap.

"Should probably get you home, 's getting late, baby..."

You want to whine, want to complain, ask to stay here all night but you can feel how hard he is underneath your ass and you know...you know this is his way of being a gentleman, his way of going slow. You know if you ask to stay it'll go further than you're ready for, so you nod instead and let him guide you back to your seat.

You let him fix the skirt of your dress again, like a good boy, covering you up. You let him buckle your seatbelt and don't comment when his fingers linger over your cleavage or pinch your hip lightly.

The whole ride back to your house his hand is on your thigh, maybe a little higher than normal, maybe slipping just slightly under the hem of your dress, pressing circles into your inner thigh in a way that makes your blood heat, makes your cunt tingle because fuck...

You consider it. Consider asking him to come inside, but you can't. Not yet. Still you let him walk you to your front door, let him help you up your steps as if you aren't perfectly capable and when you turn to face him under your porch light, ring doorbell camera capturing the moment, you don't resist when he pushes you lightly into the side of your house. You don't protest when his hands barricade either side of your head, leaning over you until you're in your own little cocoon called Clayton Keller.

"Can I see you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." Fuck, you've never had a guy want to see you so soon, but then you've never had a guy like Clayton Keller. Tonight's full of firsts.

"Yes, please."

It's the sweet little please that you tack on the end that has him groaning, head falling forward, forehead pressing against your own because you're so fucking sweet that he wants to absolutely ruin you.

The lips slant against yours this time in a bruising fashion, desperate, hungry, still he's careful, a hand cushioning your head as it bumps back against the side of your house, a hand at your throat tilting your head back like it'll help him devour you further.

The way he rips his lips from yours to breathe is almost feral, panting over you like he might eat you alive and you consider it, consider letting him, consider unlocking your front door and dragging him in by the hand, consider how it might be to tug at his hair while he kisses down your neck...but you don't.

"Fuck, sweet girl, you're gonna be the death of me, y'know that?"

You can only giggle again, face pressed back into his chest like you might be able to hide from him there and like that he's a goner. He's pretty sure you've dug his heart out from his chest and popped it into your pocket.

His hands, so fucking large one of them could cover your face, tilt your head back gently and away from his chest until you're looking at him again, meeting his baby blues as he smiles down at you all soft and gentle, "Tomorrow, 6pm, I'll pick up, okay?"

"Okay..."

He can't really resist it, the last kiss he presses to your lips, short, sweet but no less delightful than every taste of your lips he's had tonight. "G'night, baby."

"Night, Clay..."

He watches you unlock your door, waits until you wave goodnight, until you're inside, door closed and he hears the distinctive click and turn of the lock before he all but skips down the steps of your porch.

He's practically dancing to his car cause fuck, that's his future wife right there and he's determined to make you his by the end of the month.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Just You and Me: Part One

Hello, everyone! I was reading this series by @the-witty-pen-name and was inspired to make a fic where y’all chose who reader ends up with! On every part of this series this one, there will be a poll where you can vote whether you want reader to end up with Steve or Eddie! This has been so much fun to write and I hope y’all enjoy!

Summary: You convince Steve to fake date you in order to get Eddie's attention, unbeknownst to you that Steve is actually very much in love with you.

Part One: The Agreement

The diner is packed as you sit at a booth, your best friend across from you, eating his stack of pancakes while you've barely even touched yours. You're too nervous to eat, and honestly, watching Steve chow down is making you feel sick. there's just a lot of riding on the whole thing and you know you're going to sound crazy for asking him in the first place, but you still want to at least try.

Steve would do anything for you, you know that, but you're wondering if maybe this is crossing a line. You push your plate to the center of the table and sip on your soda, still trying to get the courage to tell him why you really wanted to meet him there. It definitely wasn't just for pancakes.

Steve isn't stupid. He knows something's going on that you're not telling him. You look sick, nervous and he hates seeing you like that. He just wants you to say what you need to say so you'll feel better again. He knows you're only chugging down your soda so you don't have to speak and he hates that for you, trying his best to not seem concerned because for whatever reason, that always somehow makes it all worse.

You finally get the courage to look up at him and hate that he's put on that dopey smile that always seems to be reserved for you. He's finished his pancakes so now he's just staring at you, waiting for you to just get on with it, politely, though, because he's Steve.

"What I'm about to ask of you is crazy and I know that. You are more than welcome to say no and I won't be offended if you do," you finally say before taking a deep breath.

"Are you asking me to bury a dead body? Did you kill them? No, I actually don't want to know. Wait, yeah I do. I should know if my best friend has committed murder." He's speaking so quickly that you can barely even understand what he's saying.

"I don't need help burying a body and I didn't murder anyone. I'm not asking you to do anything illegal, Steve. I would never ask you to do that. That's why we have Eddie, right?" Steve knows that Eddie would be the one to help you out with that kind of thing and that pisses him off. Fucking Eddie. It's just been the two of you your whole lives and then this fucker comes in and ruins Steve's whole plan. Well, he would have if Steve would have just stopped being a pussy and asked you out already.

Truth be told, the man has been in love with you since the moment he laid eyes on you. All you've ever been is friends, but he wants to be more. And he wants it so badly that the whole thing makes his chest ache. The only reason why he hasn't made a move in the almost fifteen years you've been friends is because as much as he loves you romantically, he doesn't want your relationship to change. He's afraid that if the two of you got together, you'd eventually break up and then he'd lose you for good.

"Right, so what's this about?" He asks before taking a sip from his own glass. For once, he's unable to read the situation. He almost always knows what's going on with you, but right now, he's got nothing.

"Well, speaking of Eddie, well, I sort of have a huge crush on him." Steve doesn't know why you're telling him this. He's known for a while. You're so obvious about it that it sometimes makes him cringe. He wishes he could give you some of his subtlety so you’d look a little more cool around Eddie.

"Duh." He's laughing now and for once, it's a joke you don't get, like it's something just for Steve and Steve alone.

"You know?"

"Y/n, all of Hawkins knows. You're not exactly subtle. But what does this have to do with me?"

"I was wondering if you maybe...would be willing to fake date me in order to get his attention." His eyes widen at your request. Whatever he thought you were going to say, it defintely wasn't that.

"Yeah, nice try. Not happening." He can't do it. He won't. He would do just about anything for you, but not this. This is where he’s drawing the line.

"You're not even going to consider it?" You're pouting now and if things were different, he'd kiss it away, or maybe he'd just give in because he almost always does when it comes to your silly ideas. This one, though, has got to be the silliest of them all.

"You said I could say no so this is me saying no." He crosses his arms over his chest in a sort of "that's final" manner and you know you should just forget the whole thing. It was all just a pipe dream anyway.

It’s not that Steve doesn’t want to help, it’s that he can’t. He would actually love to pretend to be your boyfriend and act all mushy with you like he’s wanted for years, but none of it will be real. It’s just going to be a fake relationship with fake feelings and fake kisses and he just can’t take that. It will all just hurt too much when he watches you running into Eddie’s arms when the thing is all over.

He already feels like a dick and seeing the dejected look on your face as you stir your soda with your straw is starting to feel like you stabbed him in the chest. And you might as well have. It would hurt much less.

Guilt is beginning to eat at him as he looks at you. That sad look on your face is making him reconsider. You do so much for him so he doesn’t know why he can’t do this little thing for you. It’ll be maybe a couple weeks tops, right? That wouldn’t be too bad. And not to toot his own horn or anything, but he’s a great actor. Well, he only thinks so because The Hawkins Post article that covered his fourth grade class’s performance of The Wizard of Oz applauded his role as Toto.

Maybe he can fake date you. Maybe it could be fun and he’s just overthinking it. He just wants you to be happy, and the thought of you possibly asking someone else is starting to make him feel sick.

“I guess I could just ask Robin,” you mumble, more to yourself than him, but he can still very much hear you. He can’t believe how quick you’re switching up on him, how quickly you’re able to find an alternate now that he’s said no. He’s usually your first and only option for things so now that you’re even considering asking anyone else-well, the knife has been twisted.

“I see how quick you are to replace me,” he grumbles. “And with Robin?”

“Well, who else am I going to ask? My first choice said no.”

“Or maybe you could cut the shit and just tell him how you feel. Eddie likes it when people are straight up with him.”

You know he’s right, but actually putting your feelings out there is terrifying, especially to one of your friends. You feel sick even thinking about it, the worst possible outcome playing in your head. You can vividly see Eddie laughing at you, the sounds echoing, sounding distorted, making you feel small and scared.

Yeah, there’s no chance that you’re letting that happen even though Eddie would never laugh at you because of something like that. If he were going to reject you, he’d let you down easy and be nothing but a gentleman about it.

“Alright, fine, fine,” Steve pulls you out of your thoughts. “Jesus, you’re lucky I love you.”

“Aww, I love you too, Stevie.” You’ve got on a smug smirk and he’s prepared to shut that shit down. As much as he loves you, he’s not doing this without something in return.

“Not so fast.”

“What?” You’re genuinely confused, convinced that it was a done deal and now you’re unsure if he’s actually going to go through with it or not.

“I mean, what do I get out of this? What’s in it for Steve?” He leans back against the booth, crossing his arms over his chest.

“The satisfaction of a job well done?” You ask with a shrug and he just shakes his head, unimpressed.

“If it works,” he scoffs. “What else?”

“My love and affection?” That should be a given.

“Boring,” he yawns. “You have to cover any family video shift I ask of you and you have to do my laundry for a month.”

“You’re kidding.” Your shoulders slump as you realize that you’re actually going to have to agree to his terms if you ever want to have a chance with Eddie.

“Afraid not. You didn’t seriously think I’d do it for free, did you?” You sort of did because he always does, but you suppose that this is much bigger than his other favors.

“I don’t know, maybe. But you’ve got a deal.” You reach across the table and put your hand out for him to shake.

“Really? That easily. Shit, you must be desperate.” He shakes your hand and that’s that. Steve is now officially your fake boyfriend.

“I am.”

“This better be worth it.” God, this is going to kill him, but anything for his best friend, right?

“Oh, it will be,” you tell him as you down the rest of your soda as you grab your purse that’s sitting next to you before you and Steve stand from your table and you walk side by side to the front where you pay for the meal. It’s the least you can do for Steve helping you out like this, right?

-

“You are such a dingus,” Robin tells Steve. He’s over at her apartment, the two of them talking over mugs of coffee at her kitchen table. He raced right over after breakfast with you to discuss the colossal mistake he just made, desperately wanting his other best friend’s advice.

“What the hell else was I supposed to do, Rob? She was looking at me with those puppy dog eyes.” He’s saying it like that was the only option he had when he could have easily said no and you would have dropped it.

“Jesus Christ, Harrington. Why can’t you just tell her that you love her?”

“And risk ruining one of the best friendship I’ve ever had? No thanks.”

“I can’t but also can believe you’ve gotten yourself into this. It’s just like you to help the woman you love get another man. Just so you know, I don’t support this.”

Robin loves you, you’re one of her best friends, and while she doesn’t think you ever ask too much of Steve, she does think that he tends to overlook his feelings to spare yours a lot of the time. He’d much rather risk his own happiness if it means he’s helping you in some sort of way.

While she loves that he’s willing to go above and beyond for you, she still thinks that’s it’s important that he takes care of himself. She just wants what’s best for him and hates that he’ll spread himself way too thin just to see a smile on your face.

“No one was asking you to,” he glares and she just mimics his facial expression. “I wasn’t asking for advice, I was just telling you what’s going on so you wouldn’t think it was real and blow my secret.”

“You’re pathetic,” she shakes her head. She honestly doesn’t know Steve still hasn’t told you the truth. The two of you could be married or at least engaged by now, but he’s too much of a chicken to just admit his feelings for you.

He’ll claim it’s because he doesn’t want to ruin the friendship, but Robin knows the truth. She knows that he’s just afraid of putting himself out there. She’s seen the women zipping in and out of his life and not one of them has stuck. As much as he claims he wants to love and be loved, he’s scared. Terrified, even. He’s convinced it will all just crash and burn and he’ll be all alone. Again.

“I know,” he whines, resting his head onto the table before quickly leaning back up and running a hand through his hair. “But hey, if said no, she was going to ask you.”

“Me?” She asks, her eyebrows shooting up as her big eyes widen. “I could have been her fake significant other? Shit, I would have done it for free.” Robin has always thought you were pretty and shit, having everyone think that you were her girlfriend would have been a goddamn honor.

“You’re not her type.” She knows exactly what he means by that, but she just feels like messing with him.

“Oh, and you are?” That’s salt in the wound and she knows it. But that doesn’t mean she’s going to take it back.

“You know what I mean,” he waves his hand in a dismissive manner. “And besides, you’re a terrible liar so it wouldn’t have worked out anyway.

“Well, I would have sold it much better than you,” she scoffs. “But maybe not since you always look at her with the longing stares. How she doesn’t know is beyond me. Anyway, I have to get to work. I’ll see you later, lover boy.”

As Robin leaves, Steve’s not so quick to get up. He just stares down into his coffee mug, gathering his thought about the whole thing. One the one hand, he wants to help you, but one the other, he’s already starting to feel hurt about deceiving his friend. Eddie’s someone he’s gotten really close to over the years and he’d hate to lose someone so special to him just because of something like that.

And what happens if you actually do end up with Eddie? Will Steve resent him for it? It wouldn’t exactly be fair since Eddie has no idea that Steve is in love with you, but he just doesn’t think he’d be able to stand by and watch the two of you behave like a couple when that’s all he’s wanted pretty much his whole life.

But there’s no turning back now. He’s going to stick it out because he doesn’t want to let you down. He’s going to have to see this through, watching you use him to get another man while having no idea that’s he’s fallen madly and deeply in love with you.

He drains the last few sips of his coffee then puts the mug in the dishwasher before heading out, making sure to lock Robin’s door behind him. He gets into his car and sits for a second, thinking to himself that he’s about to be in for one hell of a ride.

[deviouz]

Jason with a chubby! fem readerrr pls pls pls!!

Him admiring her as if she were an angel descended on earth and being genuinely surprised and confused that she doesn't really see that much appeal in her body like he does, but he has a way of showing his sweetheart just how beautiful she is (he may or may not has bought a floor length mirror and positioned it riiight in front of their bed <33)

Xoxo

thank you for indulging in my chubby chaser jason fantasies <3

if there’s one thing jason is good at, it’s making you feel beautiful. hell, beautiful might be an understatement with the way he worships the ground you walk on and gazes at you with nothing but pure love and devotion.

sometime’s he can see you staring longingly at outfits while out shopping, and he’s all to quick to force those negative thoughts out of your head. he’ll encourage you to try them on, narrows his eyes when he knows you’re about to say something rude about yourself, and insists on buying it because all he wants is for you to see yourself the way he sees you — drop dead gorgeous and utterly perfect.

truth be told, jason loves his partners to have a little more meat on their bones, so to speak. there’s something about the way your eyes widen and face gets all flushed when he picks you up, sometimes completely out of the blue, and spins you around like you weigh nothing.

“jay, put me down! i’m too—”

“don’t you even think about finishing that sentence unless you’d like not being able to walk for the rest of the week.”

he’ll put you up on the counter and slide his hands under the sundress he had bought you, fingers gripping into the plush of your thighs until they’re parting to make room for him. you’re still too flustered to look him in the eye, lips curled into a slight pout and cheeks all puffed up.

“come on, sweetheart, don’t give me that look. you and i both know that i could easily bench double your weight without breaking a sweat.”

you can’t really fault him there, especially not when he’s slinging you over his shoulder and waltzing off to the bedroom. the asshole even has the audacity to laugh at your incessant demands to put me down! and the so-called-punches you threw at his toned back.

another thing jason todd was particularly good at was fucking those mean thoughts right out of your pretty little head.

ever the adventurous one, you and jason have tried your fair share of positions in the bedroom, though his favorite had to be reverse cowgirl. he loves having you perch on his lap right at the end of the bed, hands roaming your naked form with fervor, all the while he has you gaze into the mirror hung on the wall just across from you both. it was tall and expensive and oh-so-perfect to gaze at the sheer size difference between you and your boyfriend.

“so fuckin’ pretty, baby,” jason whispers, rough hands grabbing at the fat of your hips with need. “so perfect for me.”

you’re already at your wits end, throbbing with need around all eight inches of his cock nestled deep in your cunt, lips swollen from the way you kept tugging them between your teeth. it was hard to keep still, hips itching to move, but jason kept you from doing so.

“jason, please—”

“ah, ah, ah. you know the drill.”

giving a desperate whine, you threw your head back against his shoulder and rolled your hips. “you’re the worst.”

one of jason’s hands trailed up to grab at your neck, lips pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head as he gave a soft chuckle. “don’t be a brat and maybe i’ll give you what you want.”

“maybe?”

“mhmm. i’m sure if you said it sweet enough i could be convinced otherwise.”

huffing out a puff of air, you turned your gaze back to the mirror. jason’s hand trailed from your neck to your chest, giving your breasts some much needed attention while you stared at the reflection, embarrassment trickling into your nerves.

“i… i’m beautiful.”

his hand slowly slid down to your stomach, sharp eyes staring at your own in the mirror. “and?”

“and pretty.”

“and?”

“…gorgeous?”

“and?”

“and if you don’t fuck me within the next two seconds, i’m gonna—”

before you could even finish your sentence, jason gave a sudden thrust of his hips, forcing his cock all the deeper — deep enough to have the tip brushing at an all-too-sensitive spot and your eyes start to roll back.

“yeah? what are you gonna do, princess?”

his thrusts didn’t stop after the first. if anything, he was just getting started.

“gonna go try to get yourself off?”

“n-no, jay!”

the sound of skin-against-skin soon filled the room, coupled with his teasing words and your pleasure-filled noises.

“you sure ‘bout that?”

the quick nods from your head had him smirking, hands grabbing at the plush of your hips with a possessive touch. he held you tight and fucked up into you like an animal in heat, like he was desperate to leave a mark on you to show everyone else who you belonged to — who he belonged to, too.

“promise, i swear,” words were becoming harder to form with the way he relentlessly pounded up into your warm heat, “no one— ah! fucks me like you!” your arousal was more than evident with the way slick began to coat your inner thighs, a creamy white ring appearing around the base of his cock with every thrust.

“that’s my good girl.”

[jackiespurnell]

just give it what it wants (lottie matthews x travis' sister reader headcanons - requested)

summary: you're travis and javi's sister, and the crash (alongside of the death of your father) has taken a toll on all of you. luckily for you, lottie is there to help.

tw: mentions of death, poverty, reader was previously a stripper in order to make money (pre-crash life)

────୨ৎ────────

if someone told you six months that you’d be the kinda-sorta-girlfriend of the leader of a wilderness-worshipping cult consisting of a group of teenage girls you would probably say “what the fuck?”

which, even now, is still a pretty valid response

your dad was the coach of your school’s soccer team

and when they made it to nationals

naturally, you and your brothers got a free trip to seattle

you were the oldest of the bunch

and although you did spend the majority of the time at parties and getting drunk

you were by far the most responsible

and when the plane crashed and your dad died

of course you were devastated

because despite all his shittiness

he was still your dad

but now it was just you, travis and javi

and the soccer girls

you noticed how, as time went on, travis started getting closer to natalie

you didn’t know her that well, and despite you and travis’ constant bickering

you saw how happy she made him

so nat was good in your book

laura lee was kind, but a little too religious for your taste 

(who prays that much anyways???)

shauna and jackie were way too in love with each other to really focus on anyone else

same with tai and van (although you got a feeling they actually had their shit together)

and misty was just straight up freaking you out sometimes

in fact, besides your brothers, there was only one girl who really caught your attention

lottie was rich, insanely fucking rich, rich enough to afford a whole private plane

but she didn’t seem stuck up or bossy or anything

she was a little weird, sure

always randomly waking up in the middle of the night

just staring out into nothingness

and then there was that moment during the seance

but for the most part, she seemed pretty chill

you remember the first time you actually had a real, one on one conversation

the weather was getting a little bit cooler 

and you weren’t sure how long you guys had been out there

you had spent the majority of your pre-crash life scraping by, trying to find some ways to earn a little bit of cash

whether that was hooking up with guys twice your age or other part-time jobs you can run by

your dad’s job didn’t pay much, but at least it payed

now, you weren’t sure what to do

by now you would have already graduated high school

so at least you wouldn’t have to drop out

but no more college for you

you spent the majority of your days in the wilderness like this

taking a good five minutes just to sit alone and cry

and then go back to your responsibilities 

and one day lottie found you during one of your sulking sessions

while typically you would just tell her (or anyone) to fuck off

you were just too tired

and given the fact that really didn’t have anyone else to talk to about this

(javi was too young, and travis was simply too closed off)

lottie seemed like the best option

so when she opened her arms out for a hug

you wrapped your arms around her waist and starting crying

she was gentle with you, her hands carding through your hair softly

she told you it was going to be alright

and while you’re not exactly sure if you believe her

for now, it’s good enough

until she starts talking all about the wilderness and how its ‘meant to save all of you’

cause honestly

what the fuck???

your father died, you and your siblings might die too

and yet she sees it as a ‘sign’

but when you try to pull out of her arms and get the fuck away

she just pulls you closer

“i didn’t mean to make you upset” she murmurs against your hair

she explains how she just said what you felt

and you know it’s unreasonable to get upset

you know it’s just her way of coping

but still

but what good would fighting do?

you can’t change her opinions

(and maybe a part of you knows. knows how much power she has. how much power she will have. how even if you wanted to leave, you couldn’t because she has the final say)

so you just lie there in there her arms, letting her hold you and press kisses into your hair

eventually y’all head back to the cabin

and you don’t talk again for a couple of days

until one night, you’re half asleep, and you feel something

it’s lottie, shaking you awake

“do you hear that?” she whispers

and no, you don’t fucking hear anything but you’re too tired to say anything 

“follow me” she says, motioning towards the door and outside the cabin

and you know you shouldn’t

you know you should stay and watch over your brothers and get some sleep

you don’t even believe in lottie’s wilderness bullshit

but it’s lottie

so yeah

you follow her

it’s cold outside, really fucking cold, but fuck it’s pretty

even before all this, you never really liked the woods

it’s dirty and cold and just full of trees and dirt

but you never stopped to think how beautiful it is

you can clearly see the stars in the sky

there’s a lot of them

and while you don’t know a single one of their names or meanings or any of that stuff

in that moment it’s the best thing in this fucked up world

“it’s beautiful, right?” lottie says, almost as if she’s reading your mind

“it wants” she whispers into your ear, the hot breath of your mouth burning against your cold skin as she wraps her arms around your waist

and you know damn well what she’s talking about

and you don’t believe her for a fucking second

but either way, you know she’s not giving in

“what does it want?” you ask, just to entertain her

she presses her lips down to your neck and whispers “you” into your skin

and, well, when she puts it like that…

who are you to refuse?

────୨ৎ────────

requested by @mikeymadisonsgf (i know you didn't give me a specific req so i hope u enjoy)

[macsimagines]

YANDERE EX-BOYFRIEND!RAN HAITANI PT.2

Ok so sorry for the long wait on this I wanted this to be soooo good since everyone loved the first one! I really hope it lives up to everyone's expectations. please let me know what you guys think

MINORS DNI WARNINGS: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, MURDER MENTION, DUBCON, BLOOD KINK, SEXUALLY EXPLICIT, AFAB READER

You're starting to realize you never really knew Ran Haitani. He always kept you at arms length before, like you only ever existed when it was convenient for him to give you attention.

The truth was that you never wanted to get to know the real Ran Haitani. The man that's cuddling you just hours after watching him murder someone with his bare hands.

He has you wrapped in his arms, still covered in drying blood, when you wake up, and when you start to stir you get ready to scream. But he's instantly covering your mouth, with his filthy hands, and muffling any shriek you think of letting out.

Ran is fighting you into the bathroom, and tearing you out of your clothes and ridding himself of his own. This man is pushing you into the shower, turning it to full heat and letting scalding water fall onto the both of you.

He's lathering your body with a combination of a very expensive brand of soap, that he got just for you, and the blood still caked to his knuckles.

You're focused in on the way it slowly swirls down the drain, eyes zeroed in at your feet. Ignoring the burning water. It's touching you, god its all over you, the blood, his hands, his arms wrapping from behind you, his breath tickling at the back of your neck, his lips meeting the side of your cheek.

The hot water does nothing to stop the uncontrollable shaking you're doing. You don't want to set him off but - fuck - you can't stop the fearful quaking he has you in.

His smell, his touch, the blood, all the fucking blood being washed down dripping from where his hands touch your body. The blood is on you, it's covering you, its smothering you-

Suddenly he's tangling a fist in your hair and pulling you back so your eyes meet his. Ran's gaze is almost lazy, but there's an underlying edge, like he's ready to pounce out of his own skin and onto you.

"Look at what that fucker did to you," he whispers leaning down to brush his lips with yours, "He got you so fucking dirty, it's pissin' me off."

His hand is tightening in your locks, and you're whimpering in his iron grip. He was never violent with you, maybe rougher during sex but never quite so... domineering.

"I'm s-sorry," you whimper, trying to find some way to pacify him, "P-please, make me clean?"

Suddenly he's snaking his hand from your hair to your neck in a much softer grip, and pulling you in for a gentle kiss. You almost want to puke. Not at the fact that you had offered that, but the fact that his simple sweet touch is washing you in wave after wave of relief.

You kiss back, disgusted at how eagerly your lips meet and match his. Of course, they meld together like they were made to just kiss Ran. And you're letting him bend you over, letting him lavish your necks and back in his kisses, letting him run his hands all over your body until they stop running red and bloody.

He thinks he likes that look on you. Bloody, soapy and wet. He thinks his blood and yours mixing together would look the best of course.

And you don't fight back when he's attempting to insert himself into you, you just choke back tears when you realize that you're actually wet. Oh god, he was turning you on, he was actually going to fuck you with the last remnants of a murdered person's blood running down his shower drain.

Ran is groaning as he stretches you, tight baby, so fucking tight, he knows no one has been playing with his pussy. He made sure that anyone who tried ended up being buried somewhere they'd never be found.

He makes sure to tell you too. In graphic morbid detail, thrusting at a steady pace. "Every fucking kill I made, every fucking shred of humanity I had, all the blood coverin' my hands," he can feel you start to shake, he's not sure if its the coming pleasure or your fear, he just knows it feels so fucking good, "Was so worth it to get back in this cunt. My cunt."

You're whimpering now, tears falling freely on your cheeks, praying to god to let him finish soon, or to let you cum. And Ran is fucking harder, faster, like your cries are just egging him on.

Over and over, a sharp thrust into your cervix, and the occasional slap on your ass, making your pussy flutter around him, like you were trying to milk him.

"Why would you ever try to give this to another man?" he grits out, suddenly slapping your pussy, "Does anyone fuck it as good as me? No one loves it and you like I do, baby."

Your eyes are rolling into the back of your head as he keeps an impossible rhythm, fingers suddenly reaching between your legs to run circles around your sensitive to clit.

"See? I know how to make you feel good, I'm the only one that gets to make you feel good."

You're babbling please and more like they're goddamned prayers and you swear you're loosing your sanity the closer you get to cumming. You just need a little more of a push-

"Fuck, I love you," Ran is groaning, pushing into you faster, fighting against your tightening cunt to get in deeper, to thrust in harder.

And that has you breaking, your legs are shaking and Ran has to grip your hip so hard to keep you steady. You can already feel the bruise starting to form under his palm. And your pussy is fluttering so violently, your cumming around him so hard, you can feel him push all the way into you, not caring that you're blacking out.

Ran is coming inside something he'd either be wearing a condom for or pulling out. He never finished in you and now he's forcing all of his cum into you not letting a single drop go to waste.

"Love you so fuckin' much," he grits out, just as your vision is starting to fade again.

You're waking again, naked in clean sheets and blankets. This isn't Ran's old apartment. Its too large and fancy with a window over looking the city. Then again, so much has happened in the past 12 hours and Ran is... so different.

Speaking of which, you see him sitting at the edge of the bed, turned from you and not so much as glancing in your direction. Just hunched over and looking at the floor.

In this solid quiet moment you look him over and fully notice all the changes. He's... skinnier than you remember, and he really did cut off all his beautiful hair. What the hell happened to him?

"I thought I was gonna die without you," he confesses, as though he could hear the thoughts racing in your mind, "At first, I was sure you'd come to your senses and realize I love you. That you were goin' to come back after you were done coolin' off like always."

Bitterness fills you and you try to look away. You just watched him commit murder and he still has the gall to act like that- "I was wrong." Your eyes snap up and you see he's turned to look at you. Actually look at you. It feels so different than the nonchalance he usually greets you with.

"I'm not a man that gets worked up about women. They can come and go for all I care. But you're MY woman. I fucking need you."

He's crawling closer to you, eyes never leaving yours as he inches nearer and nearer, cornering you like a cowering animal about to become prey.

"You made me want you, need you, live for you," Ran whispers suddenly on top of your shaking body, "I'm not lettin' you go. You need me to fucking live."

His hands hands are wrapping around your throat, not tight enough to constrict your airway but just enough to remind you that they're there.

"Say it. Say you fucking need me, say you want me, tell me you love me!" he's demanding, getting visibly more desperate and unhinged, but his hands... They're so gentle around your throat.

"I protected you! From every fucker that thought they could take you! Look around you! I got this place just for you!"

You're so shocked at his confessions, at the fact that he's loosing his calm composure, at his tear falling onto your face.

"Wh-why won't you say anything!? Say you fucking love me or else I'll-"

"I love you."

Its almost like a switch had been flipped. Three simple words have him suddenly stopping and calming down, almost like a trance. "Y-you do?" He's asking, his voice quiet and small. His shoulders loose the tense edge and you can see the way his muscle relax.

"Y-yes," you nod, not entirely sure if you really do or not. It's just what he needs to hear, you realize.

He lets out a breath and embracing you in his arms. Falling fully onto the bed with you. "Put me through hell," he mumbles burying his face into your chest like a child, "I couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, I couldn't even breath right without you. You won't do this to me again?"

"I-I won't," you nod, unsure of how to react to all this back and forth with him, "I swear Ran. I love you."

"Hmmm," he moans holding you closer to him still, "You fuckin' better. I don't wanna think about what I'd do if you didn't."

You your head and let your fingers play in his hair. Just how he likes. Maybe if you soothe him enough you'll be able to get away, maybe you can-

"I'll fucking kill myself," he suddenly says, tone so serious it has chills snaking up your spine, "Kill everyone you love, then me and make you fucking watch. Ok?"

"O-ok, Ran," you nod, eyes filling with tears, believing every word. "I w-won't try to leave again."

"Good. I love you so much, Y/N."

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 41/42 WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another.

PROLOGUE/1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 (interlude) 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 (interlude) 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 (interlude) 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 (interlude)

CHAPTER FORTYONE

                “So… I gotta ask. Why do you call him Leo?”

                “It’s how he introduced himself…” Jake says with an easy shrug, and across the room Vi is snorting into her glass of wine, and Maverick is looking curious.

                “In my defense, I didn’t think I’d ever meet you again…” Leo says, and Jake grins. Leo doesn’t hesitate, kissing Jake’s cheek again. He knows the other Daggers are seeing a side of him he doesn’t often expose when he’s working, the side that is saved up for his family and Leo. And occasionally Javy and Phoenix and sometimes Fritz. Less often though.

                “Wait… When did you two meet?”

                “2008.”

                There are collective exclamations of surprise at that and Jake laughs, because it’s a lifetime ago.

                “No way have you been with him since 2008…” Javy says and Jake gives him a conceding nod, because no, of course he hasn’t. Hell. He didn’t even come out to Javy until after DADT had been repealed. Only his family knew.

                “We met again in 2016. In Texas. At the farmers market my family goes to. Bumped into each other. Literally.”

                “Jake was his Cinderfella…” Vi says from across the room, and Jake snorts, because that name will never not be funny to him.

                “Vi… come on.”

                “No wait, I want to hear this,” Fanboy says, looking invested, and Jake guesses that other than Fritz, Javy and Phoenix the others don’t really know him that well.

                “Bradley here is called Leonardo by all my family. Our family.”

                “Wait. I thought you said you were Hangman’s cousin…”

                “I am.”

                “I am so confused right now.”

                “Okay. Short story time,” Vi says, clapping her hands together, and Jake knows she’s had to explain how their family is connected so many times now that she has it down to a fine art. He’s interested how she’s going to include Leo in her story though. “Bradley moved to Italy when he was eighteen and pretty much got adopted by the Gallo family, and my uncle Leandro just started calling him Leonardo. Leo.”

                “Rooster… Gallo…” Phoenix says, and she’s rubbing at her face and looking at Vi warily, and then looking at Jake and he just raises an eyebrow, not quite sure what’s going on there, but no doubt Leo will figure it out and tell Jake all about it.

                “Gallo like in… gallows?”

                “No, gallo is Italian for rooster. Anyway, Leo becomes part of our family. My uncle Leandro and aunty Silvia never had children, so Bradley is their son.”

                Leo ducks his head at that, and Jake knows he’s got complicated emotions around his own parents, and his relationship with Maverick and Admiral Kazansky. Knows he loves Leandro and Silvia fiercely, along with the entire Gallo family.

                “Anyway,” Vi stresses, bringing attention back to her. “These two met, shared a dance and then Jake ran away into the night, leaving behind a heart broken Bradley…”

                “Fuck off, I wasn’t heartbroken…” Leo mutters and Jake lets out a laugh.

                “You left him hanging? Wow Hangman…”

                “A dance huh?” Omaha asks, putting air quotes around the word dance and Leo laughs beside him but Jake is flipping him the finger.

                “Get you mind out of the gutter Omaha.”

                “Ah. Hence the Cinderfella moniker…”

                “Yes. Anyway, fast forward eight years and they bumped into each other at a farmers market in Texas and the rest is history. Been together ever since. They’re disgustingly in love. Any questions so far?”

                She looks like she’s daring the rest of the squad to say something and Jake grins, lets himself lean against Leo’s body and get wrapped in his arms, because yeah, disgustingly in love pretty much sums it up for him.

                “Good. Now it get’s a little confusing. Our great-great grandfather Leonardo Seresin had four children,” Vi says, holding her hand up and showing four fingers. “A son, the eldest, twin girls, and then another daughter. With me so far?” Nods all round, and then Vi holds up her other hand with three fingers. “Great. Then over here we have the Gallo family. Three kids. Oldest is a daughter, then two sons. These three Gallo siblings marry the three eldest Seresin offspring.”

                Jake lets himself zone out a little, has had it explained so many times now, has had to explain it himself, has seen the family tree and photos… yeah. He knows how they’re all related. He’s more interested in watching the Daggers as they listen with avid curiosity, looking between Jake and Vi and then Leo and every time they pass over Leo they seem to do a little double take and Jake realizes it’s because of who Leo is. Famous. It hits him then and he starts a little.

                “Wait… fuck. My sisters. They all know don’t they?”

                “Know what?”

                “How famous you are.”

                “Yeah, right from the beginning. Maria really tried to drop some hints…”

                “Oh fuck… the recipe books… the film crew you brought in for my mom’s videos… oh my god. I’m an idiot.”

                “No… I just don’t think it was important enough for you to care about. You figured out that Ice and Maverick were part of my life without me telling you. That’s a lot more important to me.”

                “I asked Olivia if she was a fan, and she said yes… they’re never going to let me here the end of this.”

                “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

                “I’m just… You know what? I’m just going to pretend I don’t know. Doesn’t change anything anyway.”

                “I know…” Leo says, and he’s looking at Jake with such blatant adoration in his eyes he feels his stomach swoop, because this is the man he’s going to marry. “Love you.”

                “Love you too.”

…            …            …

                Bradley doesn’t think he’s felt such a huge gamut of emotions in such a short period of his life ever before. From believing that Jake and Mav were both missing, presumed dead, to them being alive, the relief and joy, then the sick churning in his gut over telling Jake about Ice and Mav, only to find he already knew… then to being seething mad from reading the report. And swinging back around to relief.

                He doesn’t want to let him go, the afternoon apart has more than tried him and he’s worked through the worst of his anger over Jake and Mav’s idiocy. At least Ice will deal with Mav. He refocuses back on the conversation, isn’t quite sure what Vi has just said but glad he’s been able to pass off the explanation to someone else so he can just hold Jake close.

                “Holy shit. Really?”

                “So when we went for that meal in Italy that time…? That was all your family as well?” Phoenix is asking Vi, and she’s studying Phoenix over the rim of her wineglass.

                “Yes,” Vi states, and Bradley isn’t quite sure why her tone is that sharp, but he’ll ask later.

                “I’m still confused.”

                “Not your family bro, I’d just give up.”

                “Oh my god… Seresin’s Sauce. That’s… you actually made that for him. It’s actually his ketchup. We just thought he was all ego…”

                “Hey!” Jake objects.

                “Sure did.”

                “I gave him so much shit about falling in love with a guy who puts sauce on everything…” Vi says, Bradley laughs as Jake gives her the finger. Glancing at his watch he presses his fingers into Jake’s side gently.

                “Want to come help me in the kitchen?” Bradley asks. They both know that Jake isn’t likely going to help, that he usually just keeps Bradley company. Unless he’s adamant about cooking for Bradley, Jake is happy to let him do everything. Bradley likes it that way, but right now he wants to make out with him a little without an audience.

                “Wait, can Hangman actually cook?”

                “Yeah, he’s a decent cook,” Bradley offers and Jake looks smug. Bradley is overwhelmed with relief that he’s here and he’s okay.

…            …            …

                Leo pulls the door to the kitchen shut very firmly behind them and then leans forward to press a hot urgent kiss against Jake’s mouth. He’s being so careful of Jake’s injuries, it’s sweet, but Jake is definitely feeling better, even if he’s not going to be up for anything close to what he wants to do. He’s already well aware that he could happily go to bed right now if it was a choice. But it’s not. Leo’s fingers skate down his ribs, settle gently on his hip and he lets himself just enjoy being close, in his space again.

                “Missed you this afternoon.”

                “Yeah. Missed you too. Glad we’ve got this time together right now. And I get to meet your friends…”

                “Mmm. Bunch of assholes.”

                “You fit right in then huh?”

                “Yeah, but so will you.”

                Then Leo is pulling back and Jake can see the organized chaos behind him and –

                “That is a fuck load of food…”

                “Yeah well. You know me…”

                “You cook when you’re stressed. And angry. And to show your love…”

                “And when it’s one person who is the cause of all of that?”

                “Shit… I’m sorry baby…”

                “Not your fault. Some of it was definitely self-inflicted. Here. Take this out and pass it around…”

                “What, am I your waiter now?”

                “Just want to see your ass…”

                Jake laughs but does as he’s told.

…            …            …

                “Three months? You’ve got leave for three whole months?”

                “Did you miss the bit where we nearly died?”

                “Don’t you dare fucking joke about that Jake…”

                Jake snaps his mouth shut and presses a soft kiss to Leo’s forehead in silent apology.

                “Three months… you don’t think you’ll get sick of me?”

                “Nope. Don’t think that’s possible.”

                “Ugh. Don’t say it like that. I’ll take it as a challenge…”

                “I can think of other things to challenge you with…”

                “Yeah?”

                “Yeah. Once you’re all healed up that is…”

                “Ugh. Spoilsport.”

                “Yeah, you passing out or busting stitches would be really sexy. Such a turn on…”

                Jake pulls a face, because he knows Leo has a point but he already feels better, just tired.

…            …            …

                Bradley knows Ice has pulled strings and not just about the fact that the have a wedding date in February next year, with guaranteed leave for every single person that Jake and Bradley want there who happens to be Navy. He also guesses that Mav’s promotion to Admiral and subsequent retirement is the work of Ice’s meddling, but Bradley cannot find it in him to care. He’s glad, so glad, that Jake and the others have formed a permanent detachment based between Fallon and Corpus Christi.

                There are still periods when they’re apart, but it’s easier somehow now. Able to put faces to all the names that come from Jake’s lips. Also Fritz doesn’t hold back with his requests for baked goods, and Bradley is more than happy to keep the man who saved his godfather and future husband’s lives in baked goods. He’s in a group chat with Coyote, Phoenix and Fritz, and he gets a whole lot more of candid shots of Jake at work, the type he knows Vi has been supplying Jake with for years. It’s nice to have it finally reciprocated.

                The one thing with having a wedding date set, is the sudden number of opinions he’s apparently meant to have on flowers, or table settings, or guest lists. He and Jake have discussed it, and while neither of them care, they’re also aware it’s a big event for their friends and families. It’s definitely part family reunion and Bradley is glad for them all, waves away everyone’s concerns when they say they’re hijacking the wedding. As long as he ends up married to Jake at the end of the day, it’s fine. Saying the don’t care though is a sure-fire way to wind everyone else up though.

                One thing he does care about is something he wants to have made for Jake, as a wedding present

…            …            …

                He’s back home in Texas, curled up in their bed, a weekend of leave and being in Corpus Christi means a weekend with Leo and he couldn’t be happier.

                “So, they’ve given us a shortlist of songs to consider for our first dance…” Jake says, and he knows his sisters are getting a kick out of organizing his wedding, not having to worry about a budget because Leo simply handed over his fucking credit card. An asshole move Jake couldn’t say anything about because he’s still pretending he has no idea just how famous Leo is. He knows he’s on borrowed time for that though, because he’s pretty sure Maria is onto him. “So we have to pick a song to dance to, and a song to walk down the aisle to…”

                “I’ve… uh. Actually got a song in mind. If you don’t have any preferences?”

                Jake blinks and shakes his head.

                “No. No preference. I really… I didn’t dream of this day or anything. I’m looking forward to calling you my husband, but I didn’t plan out my wedding…”

                “Yeah. No. Neither did I. I just… there’s this one song I’d like, if you listen to it and don’t mind. You might think it’s too cheesy…”

                “I don’t care if it’s cheesy. If you want it, you get it…” Jake says, because so far this is the first thing Leo has expressed an opinion about, including the food, which Jake had thought he’d definitely have opinions about. Instead he’s simply passed it all over to Leandro and Silvia , both of whom have taken the job on with glee. Maria and Olivia are in heaven. Jake’s glad to be out of it.

                “Come on… cue it up and play it for me.”

                Leo does as instructed and Jake listens, and yeah, it’s very old-school, and he’s definitely not going to say no. It’s sweet, reminds him of their first kiss over fifteen years ago and where they are now and what they want together. However he’s going to be a little bit of an asshole about it.

                “Am I the bride in this scenario?” Jake asks, sliding his body against Leo’s with a grin, gets a responding grin, Leo’s fingers gripping his ass. Yep. Time for round two.

                “I mean, you could be in your dress whites…”

                “Pfft. I’m not wearing my whites,” Jake says, and it’s automatic. He doesn’t know why, really, but in his gut he doesn’t want his uniform on when he gets married.

                “Mmm, you look so good in them…”

                “I know, but that’s not the point. You want one of us to be in white you can wear your chef whites…”

                “I don’t want to wear my chef whites!”

                “Well, I don’t want to get married in my uniform!”

                Just like that the mood between them has soured and he doesn’t even know why. He’s annoyed more at that, the not knowing the reason and he sits up and scrubs at his face.

                “I… I’m not asking you to. I just said you look good when you do wear them…”

                Jake shakes his head, because he knows that, both that he looks good but also that Leo isn’t asking him.

                “I just… I’m going to go for a run. I’ll be back.”

                He presses a quick kiss to Leo’s mouth, because he’s not angry or upset but he’s something and it’s unsettling.

…            …            …

                He’s fucked up, he doesn’t know how. But he’d played the song, and Jake had seemed fine with it, and then he’d made a comment about Jake’s dress whites, and it had been a joke… maybe that’s where he’d fucked up. He needs to talk to Vi, and he hurries down the hall to her room, knocks and then pushes it open and another bad decision.

                “Augh!”

                “Shit!”

                “Cazzo!”

                He pulls the door shut and stares at it briefly before turning abruptly toward the kitchen. He doesn’t usually drink but this might warrant it. However he’s still just standing there staring at the wines when he sees movement in the corner of his eye and Vi is there, tying a robe closed.

                “You needed something?”

                “Sorry. I… didn’t think you had company.”

                “Well, I didn’t think I’d see you up for air before dinner. So… Cosa c'è che non va?”

                “Uh… I think Jake is getting cold feet.”

                “Nope. That boy’s feet are on fire. Next.”

                “No seriously Vi. We were just… talking. And then he said he had to go for a run.”

                “Talking? About what?”

                “First dance song and what we were going to wear… Uh. Do I know who is in your bedroom?”

                “One issue at a time. Did you tell him he had to wear something?”

                “No. I don’t care what he wears! He looks good in everything!”

                “He does, and he knows it. What’s the issue?” a familiar voice asks and yeah, his hunch was right.

                “Uh… Phoenix. Natasha. Hi.”

                “Hi Bradley.”

                “Um. Sorry about… before.”

                “It’s fine. We should have used the lock. Vi just seemed to think you’d be distracted for a while.”

                “And usually Vi would be right…” Bradley mutters, because as much as he wants all the gossip right now and when the hell this came about, he’s quietly freaking out about where Jake is and more importantly what he’s thinking.

                “So… Hangman’s left you hanging again. He’ll be back. That man is many things, and stupid about you is one of them.”

                “I just want to know what I did wrong so I don’t fuck up again…”

                “You said first dance song and what you were going to wear. What did you suggest he wear?”

                “I made a joke about his dress whites… but that’s all it was. I don’t care what he wears.”

                “Huh.”

                “What?”

                “Could be nothing, but…” she shrugs, lips twisted in something as she looks at Vi and then away again. “We both served under DADT. It’s hard to be loyal to your service while also being true to yourself. For all Hangman’s ego and confidence now, I can’t imagine it was the same before DADT was repealed. Maybe it was, I didn’t know him then…”

                “Huh,” Bradley says, because of course he hadn’t thought about that for Jake. He’s thought about it for Ice and Mav of course, but Jake and him have never been together under DADT. DADT has never had any impact on him at all. He doesn’t know if that’s the answer, but it’s still enough to ease his immediate panic. Jake had kissed him. It’s fine. He’ll be back.

…            …            …

                He’s dripping sweat, cursing himself for going running in the near midday heat. He should know better, but he’d needed to clear his head and he thinks he has it figured out. And he thinks he can explain it to Leo as well, which is the most important part. He pushes open the front door and heads directly for the kitchen, needs water but also it’s where he expects to find Leo likely stress cooking. Except he’s not there and he stares at Phoenix silently as he downs his bottle of water. This is his fucking house. Well. Leo’s. But still.

                “What the fuck are you doing here?”

                “Having sex with your cousin.”

                “Not right now I hope…”

                “Wouldn’t you like to know…”

                “No. I really wouldn’t. Is Leo…”

                “In your room. Go talk him off the ceiling,” Vi says, stepping into Phoenix’s personal space and he’s not going to show any outward sign of surprise.

                “Thought you’d have better taste Vi…”

                “Fuck you Bagman.”

                “No thanks!” Jake replies.

                “Ho un gusto perfetto,” Vi mutters with narrowed eyes and Jake snorts. Yeah, he guesses she does have perfect taste. He gives them a jaunty little wave and heads away toward his room; pushes open the bedroom door and presses it closed behind him. Leo is lying in the middle of the bed completely naked and Jake’s mouth floods with saliva at the sight.

                “Fuck… could eat you up.”

                “Yeah? Not going to stop you.”

                “Leo…”

                “Jake… I’m sorry. I don’t know what I said, or did…”

                “Shit. No. I… no. Nothing you did. I didn’t mean to make you think it was. Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to think it was you. Was just… messy in my head.”

                “It’s fine, I figured out it wasn’t me. I’m sorry too. I don’t care what you wear. I just… I want you to be happy. You could wear a paper bag for all I care…”

                “It’d give you easy access at least…” Jake jokes, and Leo snorts and Jake leans down to kiss him, feels hot and sticky with sweat, but that’s exactly what Leo wants to do to him. “And I figured it out I think. I… my job is important to me, but it isn’t all of me. It isn’t part of my relationship with you. I don’t… I don’t want to have it there on our wedding day.”

                “Okay. That's fine. Good. I wouldn't ever want you to agree with me just to make me happy.”

                “Have I ever agreed with you when I didn’t actually?”

                “I don’t know, maybe you have…”

                “Nah baby, not worth the trouble. We’re perfect just the way we are.”

                “Yeah, we are.”

------- ------- -------

For those of you that like this additional information the song Bradley has asked for is (Today I met) the Boy I'm going marry by Darlene Love, released in 1963.

Today I met the boy I'm gonna marry

He's all I've wanted all my life and even more

He smiled at me and, gee, the music started playing

"Here Comes the Bride" when he walked through the door

Today I met the boy I'm gonna marry

The boy whose life and dream and love I wanna share

For on my hand, a band of gold appeared before me

The band of gold I always dreamed I'd wear

When we kissed I felt a sweet sensation

This time it wasn't just my imagination

Today I met the boy I'm gonna marry

He's just what I've been waiting for, oh, yes

With every kiss, "Oh, this is it", my heart keeps saying

Today I met the boy I'm going to marry