#and allowing each other the room to grow and develop

[unofficial-drawfee-publicist]

This , for me, is one of the greatest appeals of Drawtectives.

Like absolutely there is the incredible art and detailed backgrounds and character design and just the thought and care that Julia has breathed into this world.

and of course the drawfee crew are hilarious

but the thing that really gets me is the friendship between them, the bond they constantly compare to familial relationships because how else are they supposed to describe to the casual viewer that, by sheer happenstance, they happened upon others like them, who understand them, and forged a bond built upon stupid jokes and puns and something else, something amorphous and profound and important and impossible to name, except by invoking its nearest relative, love.

Also I guess there's long meatball, that's also one of the great appeals of Drawtectives.

sorry i got really emotional about the drawtectives. can u believe that three random ass people. just three random ass adults, no one special or anything. a dog walker, a broke thief, a beefy orc. came together one night on a job — one night!! a few hours!! that was it!! — and bonded for life. do not separate. they’re besties 4ever. and they met at a murder as the B TEAM detectives. don’t even get me started on jancy. i’m literally obsessed with them

[puppppppppy]

Atla live action 😐

[wonysugar]

ex-bestfriend ewb aeri uchinaga

a/n : no actual moodboard(tm)… no title…. what the fuck is wonysugar even about at this point. also! too many words to consider this a drabble but also not elaborate enough to consider a full fledged fic… take this as a mini-fic and whatnot

cw : heavyyy somnophilia but consent is like kind of established beforehand but not really since they technically don’t fw each other so it’s kinda cnc… whatever any of that means, cheating, masturbation, scissoring, fingering, clit play, aeri’s high as FAWKK. and she breaks into reader’s room, lawl

you guys had fought that day.

like you do any other day, at this point.

apparently! you were talking shit about her stupid, artificial and joke of a relationship to other people. of course you would do that, you had nothing else better to do after all. it’s not like you had exams and other priorities to worry about on a day to day basis!

while it is true you said her and her boyfriend weren’t a good match, it’s not like you spent day and night speaking on her. you simply once stated a fact. nothing more, nothing less.

of course, she didn’t believe that whatsoever.

in fact, she was absolutely convinced you did more than that. she was convinced you actively prayed on her relationship’s downfall, how could she not? it was so painfully obvious; to the way you eyed her down in the bus whenever she talked to him, the way you glared at him whenever he looked in your direction, the way you’d smirk and whisper things to your friend whenever you saw her walking down the halls, stealing glances from her—hell, the more she thought about it, the more it seemed like you were jealous of her.

yeah, that’s gotta be it, you were jealous of her!

…is what she believed, anyway.

the truth was, yeah, you were envious… but it was definitely not of her. you couldn't give less of a fuck about him, frankly.

you were envious of him, though. he got all the attention.

aeri was your best friend before becoming his girlfriend. you’re the one who watched her grow up into what she is today, and she was the one to witness your development into young adulthood. you guys went from pushing each other on swing sets and doing your basic addition homework together to getting high together and… what, making out in her room when her parents weren’t home?

hell, he probably didn’t even know you were her first kiss. she probably swore up and down he was her first, anyway.

nonetheless, due to multiple accumulated misunderstandings, that all stopped.

your numerous years of pure friendship and love were killed with nothing but a few crossed wires.

now you just tell each other empty threats and roll your eyes at one another. cute, right?

whatever, you thought to yourself, you’d done enough reminiscing for the day. soon enough, you slipped under the covers of your comfy bed wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and pyjama pants. it was a rather chilly night, you physically couldn’t allow yourself to sleep with no pants on, as saddening as that might’ve been for you.

that being said, you still kept the window open. you enjoyed the feeling of the cold yet light breeze kissing your face whenever you dreamed.

feeling yourself slowly dozing off, your eyes fluttered shut as the minutes pass. eventually, after a few hours, you’re deep in sleep, practically snoring as you’re tightly hugging your teddy bear, laying on your back.

exhausted would be an understatement; you were beat.

so beat that you couldn’t possibly shake awake at the sound of somebody audibly breaking into your room.

that somebody being none other than aeri.

what the fuck was she even doing there? even she herself wasn’t sure. one thing she did know, though, was that she was gonna make you regret ever saying anything about her relationship. of course, she wasn’t thinking rationally whatsoever; the weed in her system had killed every ounce of reason left in her, and she found it more practical to operate with her feelings.

and the feelings in question? they told her to break into your house through that same window you so conveniently left open!

she stepped foot closer to you, watching you sleep. you were absolutely clueless on what was going on near you.

aeri had always found you pretty, but you looked especially breathtaking in that moment. you looked so… peaceful, serene. seeing you like this made her nostalgic; she yearned for the moments where you would look at her with an expression just as warm as that. the moments where she’d talk about something as trivial as a corny song her favorite artist at the time released and you would just... sit there and listen.

you would always listen attentively to whatever she had to say.

her man rarely ever did that. he was always too busy to even look at her when she talked. yet, he's the only one she gives her whole attention to.

funny how that works, huh.

then, she noticed how your graphic tee had seemed to drag itself upwards, unintentionally yet entirely revealing your stomach, as well as the fact itself that you weren’t even wearing a bra underneath.

was that the reason she got on top of you? no, of course it wasn’t; she had a prove to point, that’s what! the point being that you ran your mouth about something that doesn't concern you, and that she was gonna rightfully ridicule and humiliate you for it. she had no problem with touching you in such a suggestive manner.

yeah, she hated your fucking guts now and would rather die a horrible death than sit in the same room as you for more than 5 minutes… but you’ve always had a great body, and even greater tits, that was undeniable.

so, she gently pulled your t-shirt upwards, leaving space for her head and eventually got to licking on your chest while you slept. entranced by the feeling of your nipples grazing her numb tongue, she kept her eyes hooded as she watched out for your reaction. you did squirm around a bit once she started fondling the other breast with her hand, but that was about it. that went on for at least 10 minutes, right? she didn't keep count.

all she knew was that you would’ve felt nothing but pure shame if you knew what was being done to you at that moment. that was the point of this. not because she was dying to touch you, obviously, but because she wanted you to be aware of the power she truly has over you. instead of fucking her boyfriend, like you oh so clearly wanted, she was practically fucking you instead.

you were still in a deep slumber despite all that; you should have already woken up by then, but you didn’t. fortunate for her, although she couldn't help but ask herself, have you been getting enough sleep recently?

nevermind that, she was too into the act of leaving hickeys all over your chest to think about it. aeri didn’t want to think, she was high out of her mind. in fact, she stank up the whole room with the smell of marijuana, she was practically hot boxing you in the comfort of your own bed, whilst you slept. not a single thought of hers was rational, and chances are that's why she had gotten so hot and bothered over ‘ridiculing’ you.

perhaps that's also why she eventually slipped off your pyjama pants and gently hovered your clothed slit with her fingers, getting lost in the feeling of your lips on her fingertips. fuck, your panties were pretty damp, what had you been dreaming of before she got in here?

"you fucking bitch..." she mumbled to herself. she felt herself throb at the sight alone, and that pissed her off. the sensation of her digits dragging along your visibly desperate pussy didn't help, either. her blood ran embarrassingly hot and soon enough, she finished off by completely stripping you of your underwear, unable to contain her desire for any longer. your bare cunt now to the air, exposed and vulnerable only for aeri to see. it glistened under the moonlight that subtly broke into your otherwise dark room through the window, kind of the same way she did.

it was hypnotizing, so much so that aeri could've sworn she was practically drooling from the corner of her mouth. she was so close to just leaning and making out with it, but... she couldn’t. she had other, more important things to attend to; her own warm pool growing in between her legs.

she couldn’t help it, she had to swiftly glide her dominant hand across her lower stomach into her shorts. with a huge sigh of relief, her breath hitched as her middle finger quickly landed on her throbbing clit, rubbing circular motions immediately upon contact. her hooded eyes stayed fixated on you, entranced by the mere sight of you; asleep, your core exposed and vulnerable, just for her.

it didn’t take long for her to slowly slide in two digits inside of herself, biting her lip whilst she fought back a whine, still staring at you. she wanted to touch you so badly, she wanted to use every inch of you to get off, to humiliate you, but that would’ve been too risky. so, she was perfectly content with just pumping her fingers in and out of her entrance for now, quiet squelching sounds filling the silence of the room.

fuck, the weed in her system just made it so, so much better. she was dripping wet just thinking about how confused you would be if you were to wake up. nobody would exactly expect to be immediately greeted by the sight of aeri fucking herself on them right upon exiting dreamland, so that would be a totally valid reaction for you to have.

an adorable one, at that.

she didn’t have to worry about that though, she kept two of her other hand’s fingers inside her mouth whilst simultaneously fingering herself, way to muffle the occasional sounds that slipped out.

that’s, once again, what she believed, anyway.

what she had seemed to forget about you was that you weren’t that heavy of a sleeper, no matter how exhausted. truth was, the nipple sucking was enough to kinda rouse you up a bit, but she was lucky enough to not have fully woken you up, since you quickly drifted back to sleep afterwards.

that wasn’t the case for what came afterwards, however.

aeri, despite her initial plans of playing it safe, had moved on to feeling your wetness on hers; she bit back a gasp as soon as her clit came in contact with yours, soon enough rubbing against it as she held one of your legs in a careful way, leaving space for hers. her mouth agape whilst she looked down at herself grinding, rolling her hips back and forth onto you, the sensation out of this world. fuck, you were so wet for her, and you didn’t even know it.

how embarrassing was that for you.

anyway, she was so caught up in making herself feel good that she hadn’t even noticed you wake up!

“w-what the…” you mumbled, incoherent. then, your groggy eyes widening once you figured out what was actually happening, you raised your voice, “what the fuck?!—“

she shushed you immediately, covering your mouth with her palm, “sh-shut the fuck up… you’re gonna wake up the whole house.”

and she won’t? first thing you heard waking up was a loud ass whimper coming out of her!

onto more important questions… what the fuck was aeri doing in your room? why did she look so fucked up? was she high? what was she grinding onto? why did your body feel so good? why was it so cold in your room? what did she do to you before this? you didn’t have a single clue on anything happening, you felt… used, taken advantage of, objectified by your own ex childhood best friend.

and fuck did you love every second of it once you actually processed everything. was that weird? the thought of her eventually cumming her brains out to you and not to her stupid ass boyfriend was enough to turn you into even more of a mush, despite barely being conscious.

“f—fuck, aeri—“ you'd moan out,

“i know baby, it feels—mmh—good, d-doesn’t it?”

it did, it really did. so much so that you had to cover your mouth with each roll of the hips she did on you, as to not let any potential noises slip out.

aeri had decided to leave the confrontation for much, much later; when she isn't actively chasing the climax of her pleasure. plus, you looked way too good for her to even want to tell you off, it'd make her feel bad. at that moment, all she wanted was to see you lose control under her. your muffled moans like music to her ears, she got more and more lost in the feeling, dizzy and overwhelmed with euphoria. she felt the knot in her stomach get tighter and tighter, until... it snapped.

biting onto the phalanx of her index finger to surpress the moans fighting to escape, her orgasm hit her like a truck, hard.

you, on the other hand, didn't get to cum from just that, however, and that's exactly why she took it upon herself to make you finish on her tongue, eager to taste your juices and hers combined on your cunt.

before the night was over, you both talked it out. granted, it was difficult considering she was still high as shit and you had almost just gotten knocked out from having the best orgasm in fucking years, you still talked. you worked it out on the remix, if you will!

you weren't surprised when news spread on campus that uchinaga aeri had recently broken up with her boyfriend, a few days later.

[rafesbabygirlx]

A Lot of Time has Passed | Part 3

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Season 4 Rafe x Maybank reader

Summary:Beginning at the time jump, the Pogues seemingly succeeded at something, Rafe is struggling with making amends and being a better person. JJs sister left the island after returning from South America. Returning after 18 months with a secret.

A/N: you’re in for a treat. this one’s a little longer than part 1 and 2. I hope you enjoy.

Not proofread

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings: MDNI, SMUT (oral, f & m receiving, p in v different positions, overstimulation) more talk of loss, arguing, physical altercation, (just a slap) discussion of abortion

You woke up in a daze, your mind still foggy, completely unprepared for the challenges that the day ahead might hold. The clock on the wall blares that it’s already 10:30 AM, a clear indication that time has slipped away from you. With a reluctant sigh, you muster the energy to pull yourself out of bed. As you make your way into the living room, the sight that greets you is heartwarming: Kie and Cleo are sprawled on the floor, engaged in playful antics with Vivienne, affectionately known as V.

“Good morning!” Cleo chirps cheerfully. “She had a big girl breakfast, took her morning nap, and now we’re playing with her stuffed turtles!” The joy in her voice is infectious, instantly brightening your mood.

Vivienne, who is typically up by 5:30 AM, has already had her morning nap around 9:00 or 9:30, and now she’s fully awake and eager for attention. As soon as she notices you, she struggles to pull herself up to her feet, wobbling slightly as she makes her way toward you. It’s remarkable to see how far she’s come in just two short months since she took her first steps. With her determination, you wouldn’t be surprised if she becomes a sprinter by the time she turns two. Clutching a toy turtle in her tiny hand, you scoop her up, noticing the adorable purple onesie she’s wearing, which is adorned with a delightful array of baby turtles. It seems that this little one has developed quite the fascination with them.

You plant a big kiss on her cheek, savoring the sweet moment, before gently returning her to Kie and Cleo, who are more than eager to continue their play. Just as you are about to settle into your morning routine, Pope arrives, bringing with him a spread of delicious food for everyone. You share a leisurely breakfast as the others entertain Vivienne, allowing you some precious moments to gather your thoughts and prepare for the day ahead.

Once you feel awake and refreshed, you take your time adding the finishing touches to your makeup and styling your hair. By the time you emerge, Kie, Cleo, and Pope are ready to head out for the day, each of them aware of the importance of giving you space to handle things on your own, especially when it comes to Rafe. There’s a sense of camaraderie as the girls envelop you in warm hugs, offering encouraging words that bolster your spirits. Pope extends a fist bump in playful camaraderie, but you choose instead to lean in for a heartfelt hug, expressing your gratitude for the breakfast and their unwavering support. It’s these little moments that remind you just how fortunate you are to have such a loving and supportive circle around you.

You spend some delightful time playing with Vivienne, losing track of the minutes as her laughter fills the room. Before you know it, the clock strikes 12:30, signaling her lunchtime. You prepare a small feast of bite-sized turkey sandwich pieces, fresh raspberries, and tender steamed broccoli, watching as she eagerly indulges in each morsel. By 1 PM, she finishes her meal, perfectly timed for her afternoon nap. You gently feed her a bottle, rocking her softly in your arms until her eyelids grow heavy, and finally lay her down in your bed, surrounded by her favorite stuffed animals.

With Vivienne peacefully asleep, the quiet of the house settles in around you, leaving you alone with your thoughts as you wait for Rafe’s arrival. You grab your phone, scrolling through messages and social media, then take a moment to tidy up her toys scattered across the living room floor. As the minutes tick by, the silence becomes almost palpable, and you find yourself nervously biting your nails, anxiety bubbling to the surface.

You briefly forget just how punctual Rafe is. At 1:58, the familiar sound of his truck crunching over the gravel outside jolts you from your thoughts, and by 2 PM on the dot, there’s a knock at the door. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you open the door to find Rafe standing there, arms laden with a dozen shopping bags.

“Hey—what the hell is this, Rafe?” you exclaim, surprised at the sight. He breezes past you, making himself at home as he sets the bags down in the living room.

“I didn’t want to come empty-handed, and since I didn’t know what she likes or what size she really is, I may have bought one of every toy and a couple of sizes of clothes,” he explains, a hint of pride in his voice.

“She’s one, Rafe. She wouldn’t be offended if you didn’t bring anything at all. So much for my hope of not spoiling her,” you reply, your voice laced with frustration.

“Yeah, well, I never knew that was your plan,” he counters, and you can feel the guilt creeping in as your gaze drops to your feet, the weight of the moment settling heavily on your shoulders.

“So where is she?” he asks, looking around the room.

“She’s in my room, napping,” you respond.

He looks at you, clearly puzzled. “You invited me here at this time, and she’s not even up?!”

You roll your eyes and huff a breath, trying to keep your composure. “Her lunch is at 12:30, and she naps from 1 to 2. Do you really think I’d invite you over without a plan?”

“Alright, sure, whatever you say,” he replies, his tone dismissive.

You grab his arm, urgency in your voice. “I wanted you to come at this time because I wanted you to help me get her up. It’s one of my favorite moments. I thought it’d be a good one for you to experience first.”

“Oh, okay, sorry,” he replies, his demeanor shifting as he follows you into the bedroom.

You approach the bed, softly rubbing Vivienne’s temple as you gently speak to her. “Wake up, baby girl, it’s time to get up.” She stirs, tiny hands rubbing her eyes as she shifts under the covers. When she finally opens her bright blue eyes, a radiant smile spreads across her face, and she giggles as you tickle her stomach.

“Mama,” she says, her voice breaking through the laughter, and your heart swells with joy. You scoop her up into your arms, beaming as you turn to Rafe, who stands there, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide in disbelief. The sight of you and Vivienne together is a moment of pure magic, one that he seems to be taking in entirely, a mixture of awe and wonder painted across his face.

You both make your way into the living room, where you gently set Vivienne down on the floor, right in the midst of the colorful bags Rafe brought with him. “Watch her for a second,” you say, casting a playful glance back at Rafe. He looks startled, his eyes wide with uncertainty. “You’ll be fine, Rafe,” you giggle, heading toward the kitchen.

As you prepare a snack for Vivienne, you glance back at Rafe, who is now on the floor with her. His hand hovers hesitantly above her, clearly unsure of how to engage, but a broad smile spreads across his face as he watches her. This sight warms your heart, and a blush creeps onto your cheeks as you admire the moment.

You return to the living room, placing the snack on the floor, and Vivienne crawls over to it eagerly. The sight of the bags scattered around fills you with a mix of surprise and amusement. “You really didn’t need to do all of this,” you tease, looking at Rafe with a playful smirk.

“I wanted to,” he replies earnestly. “Aside from not knowing anything about her or her size, I wanted her to have these things.” You start pulling items out of the bags: baby books, clothes in three different sizes—thankfully he included larger sizes, too, anticipating her growth. Among the bags, you find a collection of stuffed animals, and as you pull out a plush sea turtle, Vivienne snatches it from your hands, tossing her snack aside in her excitement.

“She’s definitely in a bit of a turtle phase,” you and Rafe laugh together, the tension from earlier dissipating as the day unfolds without a hint of awkwardness. Rafe quickly becomes comfortable, diving into playtime with Vivienne while you join in at points. As you watch them together, it’s undeniable how much she resembles him. Even the features you often claim to be yours seem to fade away, overshadowed by the undeniable similarities. It’s as if you’re gazing at two twins, a striking reflection of one another.

When dinner time rolls around, you enlist Rafe's help to prepare Vivienne’s meal, allowing him to learn what she likes. After dinner, he helps give her a bath, and you both share in the delight of her giggles and splashes. Once she’s tucked into bed, you leave the room, expecting him to follow you. You turn around to find him lingering in the doorway, watching her with a soft smile, his thumb brushing over his cheek. In that moment, you realize you’ve never seen him look so utterly in love.

Eventually, he joins you on the couch, the atmosphere cozy and peaceful. “I don’t know how you ever get any sleep; I could watch her for hours,” he remarks, and you smile, though you can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. “Yeah, she’s a little sleeping beauty. She’s just perfect.”

Now that the two of you are alone, you know some difficult conversations need to happen. Rafe lets out a sigh, settling into the old, beat-up couch. The silence stretches between you for several moments before you decide to break it. “I’m not sorry for being okay with your dad being dead,” you state, the words hanging heavily in the air.

Rafe jolts his head in your direction, disbelief etched across his features. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes,” you reply firmly.

“After all this time, this is what you say to me? After an amazing day?” His frustration is palpable.

“Yes,” you insist again.

“I know it’s your dad, and I know you loved him, but how do you not understand, even after everything, how awful he was?”

“Maybank enou—”

“NO! What he did to Sarah, how he barely cared about Wheezie, and how he turned you into a monster!” Your voice rises, but you simultaneously remain calm, determined to explain your perspective.

“You can be an asshole sometimes, but the way he turned you into a self-destructive shell of yourself was more than enough reason for me. The way he abused you, almost strangling me and Sarah to death on the ship—all over greed. He was an evil man, and I will never miss him.”

Rafe stands, his face flushing with anger. “That is my father! Your precious Pogues had him killed, and you have the nerve to not even be slightly remorseful?! What the hell is wrong with you?”

You roll your eyes, frustration bubbling up inside you. “You never even gave me the chance to explain! You pushed me away, and you probably don’t even know the truth. I’m not trying to make you hate him, but you need to understand where I’m coming from.”

You urge Rafe to sit back down, hoping to calm his nerves, mindful of Vivienne’s peaceful slumber. You take a deep breath and begin explaining everything that led up to Ward and Big John’s deaths, carefully detailing the events without glossing over the pain that was inflicted on everyone involved. Including John B, who also lost his father that day, for a second time.

Rafe listens in silence, absorbing the weight of your words. He remains speechless, unable to formulate a response, and eventually, he pulls you into him, resting his head on your shoulder. You can feel the warmth of his tears soaking into your arm, and you cradle his head gently, offering him comfort.

After a moment, you pull away slightly and ask him to stay the night. “I, uh… I had plans with Sofia to meet Topper and his girl in a bit,” he admits, and you feel a wave of disappointment wash over you.

“Oh, right, of course you do,” you reply, attempting to laugh it off, but the sting of that reality lingers. You had forgotten that Rafe had built a new life while you were gone.

As you get up, preparing to head to bed, he suddenly yanks you back down into his lap, brushing the hair that has fallen around your face behind your ear. “I guess I technically have a valid excuse for not making it,” he says with a smirk, and before you can respond, he pulls you in for a kiss.

You deepen the kiss, your fingers tangling in the back of his neck as he lifts you effortlessly, laying you back down on the couch without breaking the kiss. “I’ve fucking missed these lips,” he murmurs between kisses, each one igniting a spark of passion.

In the heat of the moment, you almost miss the front door slamming open. A drunken JJ comes barreling in, followed closely by Kie, Pope, and Cleo. “I thought it smelled like shit in here!” he exclaims, loud and boisterous.

“Be quiet, JJ. V is sleeping,” you say, your voice firm but playful. Rafe turns his head to reply, but you quickly pull him back to face you, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “Let’s go to my room,” you whisper, your heart racing with excitement and a hint of mischief, as the evening takes an unexpected turn.

As you head toward your door, JJ interrupts with a piercing remark. “King Rafe, self-proclaimed good at everything he does except being a stand-up father. Leaving my sister like that just to let you back in so easily? I’d think something was wrong with her if you weren’t a world-class manipulator just like your father.”

“JJ!” you exclaim, your voice sharp with disbelief.

Rafe starts to move toward him, clearly bewildered by JJ's accusations. You quickly intervene, urging him to go into your room. Standing on the opposite side of the kitchen island, you confront JJ, frustration boiling over. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you say that to him?”

JJ scoffs, crossing his arms defiantly. “Please, he deserves it! After everything he did to you?! You’re defending him?”

You raise your hand, your patience wearing thin. “JJ, lower your fucking voice! I told you V is sleeping.” But he continues to rant about how much of a piece of shit he thinks Rafe is, and you finally reach your breaking point.

“I LIED!” you yell, your voice echoing in the tense atmosphere, completely disregarding your own advice to keep it down.

“I lied, JJ. Everything I told you about what happened after I left wasn’t true. He never knew. He never knew I was pregnant; he never knew I had V. I tried to push down my feelings about what he said to me the last time I saw him, and I tried to convince myself he didn’t want either of us. It was easier. You hated him anyway, so it was simpler to tell you guys that, too. The guilt ate me up every day! That’s why he’s here. He deserves the chance to meet her, whether you all like it or not.”

JJ leans over the counter, slurring his words. “You should’ve just gotten that abortion like you planned to, so we didn’t have to deal with this mess and have him around.”

“JJ!” Kie yells, her tone sharp and reprimanding.

Without thinking, you slap JJ across the face, the sound echoing in the room. His head jolts to the side, and to your shock, he laughs. The gasps from everyone else in the room create a heavy tension, and for a split second, your own face falls in disbelief at your actions. But anger quickly replaces that disbelief as you stare at him, furious that he could say something so hurtful to you. “Good, maybe that’ll sober him up a bit,” you retort and turn toward your room, feeling a rush of adrenaline.

As you slip past Rafe, you barely register that he has been standing there the entire time, watching the confrontation unfold. He closes the door behind him, the soft click resonating in the tense silence.

He sits down on the bed, a weighty silence hanging in the air. Without a word, you straddle his lap, pulling him into a feverish kiss, desperate to drown out the chaos that just erupted. You can’t talk about it now; you just need to feel something else, something that’s yours.

Rafe responds instantly, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you in closer. “We don’t have to talk now. Let me take care of you instead,” he murmurs against your lips. With that, he stands up, holding you effortlessly, and lays you down on the bed, his body pressing against yours as the world outside fades away. In this moment, you find solace in each other, the storm of emotions momentarily forgotten as you lose yourselves in one another.

He holds you tightly at the waist, leaning over while kissing you passionately. As he slips his tongue into your mouth, he senses the familiar thrill he remembers. Slowly, he starts to lift your shirt. Realizing what he’s doing, you arch your back, eagerly yanking it off, and pull his shirt off in one swift motion. You grab his face, pulling him in to kiss him again, lost in the moment.

Rafe breaks the kiss, trailing his lips over your cheek, then along your jawline, and down to your neck. He gazes at your breasts, gently cupping both in his hands. Slowly, he takes your left nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking, lavishing attention on it for a few minutes before moving to the right. Soft moans escape your lips as pleasure courses through you.

Once he shifts his focus from your chest, his kisses travel down your stomach. He pauses at the waistband of your shorts, teasingly licking his way back up, over your stomach, between your breasts, and up to your neck and chin, before crashing his lips back against yours.

Kneeling before you, Rafe grabs your calves and plants soft kisses all over your legs. He takes hold of the waistband of your shorts, looking up at you for confirmation. You nod, heart racing, and he slowly pulls them off. A small whimper escapes you, fueled by the overwhelming desire to be closer to him. Once your shorts are discarded, his hands explore your thighs, rubbing and massaging the skin, warm kisses trailing behind.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Rafe spreads your legs apart, positioning himself perfectly in line with your core. He licks his lips. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good with just my mouth. I want you to cum all over my face,” he whispers, igniting a wave of pleasure in you at his words. He hasn’t even begun yet, and you’re already lost in the anticipation.

With a starving look in his eyes, he gently spreads your folds apart with his fingers, laying his tongue flat against you. A cry of ecstasy escapes your lips, and you don’t care if anyone outside can hear you. You secretly relish the thought of teasing your brother for what he said. It’s been so long since you’ve felt this kind of touch, and it’s all the more intoxicating that it’s Rafe’s tongue amidst your thighs.

Rafe begins to work his magic, he usually watches you from down there but he’s so into it and missed it he could only keep his eyes shut. Licking up and down your folds shaking his head left and right to build you up. You’re moaning like crazy. “Rafe… fuck!” You throw your head back. He begins to stick his tongue in and out of you circling your hole. You still can’t believe the speed he’s able to do this. He moves back up flicking your clit before fully engulfing his mouth over it and sucking on it hard. You begin to pant, it’s hard to breath, feeling the build up in your stomach. Your legs he’s holding back beginning to shake. It’s feels unreal. He won’t let up, moving back and forth from sucking on your clit, to laying his tongue flat and shaking the hell out of his head.

“Oh my god, Rafe I’m fucking - ah.” You arch your back and throw your head into the comforter, you cry out as you cum. He doesn’t let up, eating you out through your orgasm. Cleaning up every last drop of you. Once you’ve calm down he finally looks up at you. You meet his eyes and smile. Reaching down to wipe your arousal off his chin, pulling him to taste yourself on his tongue.

While kissing you reach down and begin to fumble with his belt. He smiles into your mouth. Standing he unbuckles his belt and pulls his pants and boxer briefs off in a swift motion. You lift you legs up and he slides comfortably in between them his hard cock laying on top of you. He’s looking down at you and you up at him. Maintaining eye contact you lick your hand and reach down and begin to pump him. He shivers at the motion and can’t help but watch you at this angle jerk him off with his mouth agape. He begins to fuck your hand throwing his head back when he can’t stand how good this feels. “Fuck baby, just like that.” He groans.

You loosen your grip when he looks back down. “Eyes on me, daddy.” A word you never used before, but it seems fitting because you’ve never seen him more sexy than today, being a father. He grunts at the demand (and the pet name.) You tighten your grip again now leaning down to like his tip. You hold your tongue flat out as he bumps into it with every thrust. You’ve know Rafe long enough to know when he’s about to cum. He doesn’t even need to warn you. His thrusts get faster and sloppier and he grunts above you. “Mama, shit stay just like that, ugh.”

He throws his head back again as he cums. Quickly regaining composure to look back down at you as your mouth fills with his hot liquid and you swallow it all. Finger grazing your upper lip to catch some strays and suck it off.

Before you know it, he’s grabbing you by the waist and moving up to your pillows. Lifting your legs up and finding himself back in between your legs. He’s already hard again, not at all ready to stop at one round.

He aligns himself up with your entrance. But he decides to tease you a bit first. Rubbing his tip between your folds. Rubbing circles around your clit as you squirm beneath him. “Rafe, please I need you.” You plead reaching your hand down to push him in. He swiftly grabs your wrist pinning it above you. Leaning in lips brushing against you. “You had me wait for almost 2 years, you can wait a second.” You stay in this position, so lost in his eyes you don’t prepare for him to smash into you.

He lets you adjust for a second before slowly pulling out and push back into you. He takes his time you both moaning at the feeling. “Faster baby please. I need you harder” you plead. He doesn’t need anymore more convincing. Just like that, he’s thrusting in and out of you at a pace that has your mind racing. You can’t focus on anything but the pleasure. Your eyes moving around the room, rolling to the back of your head and back to him to maintain eye contact. Looking into his even though everything is blurry, you still see the sharpness of the blue staring back at you.

You let out a bunch of oos and ahs that has him gritting his teeth. “You like that baby girl? When I pound into you like this? You were always a little slut for me fucking you like this.” You nod but that isn’t enough for him. He wraps his arm around your neck gripping your hair and pulling your head back. “I didn’t hear you baby.”

“Yes. I’m your little slut, I love when you split me in half just like that. Right there, uhhh, keep doing that.”

Rafe was always smug about his length. Not only his length but the width of him is what had you drooling every time. The way he’d stretch you and brush against your walls is what kept you so enamored with him. It was the ultimate pleasure.

You feel yourself getting closer again. The way you scratch his back and arch into him her could tell too. Before he can let you go, he pulls out and flips you. On his knees he pulls you onto all fours. Dropping a glob of spit on your slit, he gathers it with his tips and slams back into you. This angle causes you to see stars and he hits your cervix every thrust. The grip on your hips has him plunging in even faster. He can’t get enough of feeling you around him.

“Rafe I’m close!” You belt out.

“Not yet baby, let me meet you, come with me.” You cry out not sure you’ll be able to do it. His thrusts start getting sloppy. You clench around him once you start to feel him throb in you. He reaches one hand into your hair yanking you up flush against his chest. Wrapping g that hand around your throat now while the other enters your mouth to graze onto your tongue and then down to your clit to run circles ferociously. You legs start to give out but he holds you up by your throat not giving f you any place to go.

“Raaafee, oh my god” you cry out. Tears streaming down your face.

“Come on baby, come for me now, I’m right behind you.” Your legs shake again, the overstimulation is unbearable now. Both hand still occupied around your throat and your clit. He doesn’t stop as you cum, hand still circling him still thrusting.

“Baby. Fill me up. Please cum inside me.” That’s all it takes for him to give you a couple of more deep thrusts and he fills you up. You feel so warm inside as you feel his come deep inside you.

He stays inside as you drop to the bed. Holding his position for a few seconds as he tries to catch his breath. He stands up and finds a towel hanging on your door. You flip over to lie in your back and he cleans you up. Annoying as he can be he was very attentive to aftercare with you.

He goes to toss the towel in your hamper as you get under the covers. He follow suit. You nuzzle your head into his neck as he wraps his arms around you. The warmth of his naked body is so soothing to you. All the lost memories of you and him come flooding back to you. You never want this feeling to end. He gives you repeated kisses on the forehead.

However, you know that in the morning reality will set back in and you realize he isn’t yours anymore.

You let emotions get the best of you and all you could think of was how terrible this is for Sofia. You aren’t the type of person to sleep with another woman’s man. You silently begin to cry. Happy tears at the thought of laying her with Rafe again mixed with sadness.

Rafe looks down at you concerned. You play it off as a yawn and just try to enjoy the moment you two are sharing now. He rubs your back and you just lay staring at each other until you begin falling asleep.

“God, how I’ve missed that pretty face.” Is the last thing you hear before sleep takes over.

Taglist-

@maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @calaryssia @leilanizcals @eg-dr3amer3 @ilove-tswizzle @ggggggbu @rafestar

[mrchiipchrome]

Girlfriends?

W.C. - 5.7 k

a/n: wonze kid is backkkkkkkkkk and with a bang.

----------------

Growing up in Sevilla, life was perfect. Three older brothers that encouraged your footballing ability practically from the second you took your first breath, a set of parents that pushed you to be the very best at everything, and an academy that proved to be the absolute best for your development made for a good childhood.

A quick learner by far, you had already started playing with girls twice your age when you were 10, and by age 12 (and a half) you had already started to train with the senior girls, not old enough to be allowed to play in matches. 

It was a weekly routine you had built up over the years, go train with the senior girls during the weekdays, school work completed during the afternoon, games with the girls your age on fridays, games with the U21s during the sunday afternoon. It was hectic, sure, but you were good, really good.

Some weeks you would have to skip the U21 matches in favor of tournaments with the other youth teams, which in turn gave you perhaps the best gift of your lifetime, a (by now) 5’6 brunette with the most encaptivating greenish eyes and the feistiest demeanor you’ll ever encounter.

Julia Romero, una true madridista.

Her white clad frame had been a constant in your life since you were practically too short to reach the kitchen table, as feisty as she always had been. 

That almost chaotic energy always translated onto the pitch, with creative passes and shots from distance being a regular occurrence in her game. She had your heart captured since the moment you’d first laid eyes on her.

Through the multitude of years you’d come to know each other, you had formed a special partnership both on and off the field, a connection that led to more than a few trophies for the youth national teams. 

A package deal as most would label you two as, playing for teams miles upon miles away from each other. It was funny when they (mostly parents of the other kids) would refer to you as that, a package deal. 

It was even funnier when they’d refer to you as twins, each fiery and competitive in your own rights, but knowing the hidden affections quickly developing, it just felt wrong.

The weekends you were meeting up to play against each other quickly became the highlights of your weeks, waiting patiently for the next opportunity to challenge the other. 

When, at the ripe age of 13, you both got your very own cell phones, communication became ten million times easier and in turn you became ten times more in love with the breakout madrid star. Best in Spain, Y/n/n and Juli. 

Strangely enough though, neither of you clocked the fact that you were both madly, undoubtedly, so in love with each other until that night when you both turned 14.

Julia always liked to boast about the fact that she was 10 minutes older than you, born right before midnight, whilst you were born right after midnight. 

Sitting on the hotel bed in your shared room at the under 21 Spain camp, the only players under the age of 17, you and your best friend obviously got to room together.

Right across from you sat Julia, with her normal mischievous smile, looking deeply into your eyes as the clock ticked down to midnight, anticipation filling her body more than your own. Your knees touch hers ever so slightly, you both sitting crisscrossed so that you’d be able to even fit on the bed in the first place.

“What are you going to wish for?” She asks, eyes wide in suspense, as if the answer had been something she had been waiting for since the dawn of time. Leaning back into the headboard, you look up towards the ceiling, contemplating (but not really at the same time) about what you would wish for as you blew out the lit match only minutes from now.

“Maybe a contract from Barcelona.” You tease, looking down at her unamused face, shrieking when she ‘attacks’ you, jumping onto your body and tickling your sides. “No, no, stop, stop, I won’t, I promise.” You gasp out between fits of laughter, Julia quickly retreating with a satisfied look on her face.

“Mhm, better keep that promise. I can’t stand seeing your little sad face when I beat you.” Laying down beside you, Julia starts the teasing again, the look on her face one of amusement, eyes widening as she notices the arms of the clock on the wall almost at midnight.

Watching her spring up from the bed, your eyes follow her all the way until she stops at her bag, pulling a box of matches out of the front compartment.

Pretending you weren’t just studying her entire being when she turns around, Julia makes her way back to the bed, resuming her position on the bed.

“Sit up lazy.” You roll your eyes at the playful insult slipping from her lips, begrudgingly sitting up and facing the shorter girl. 

She pulls out a match and strikes it against the match board, lighting up in the span of milliseconds before she holds it out closer to you, waiting for you to blow the flame out. It was the next best thing to a cake, with diets and all.

Actually pondering over what you would wish, only one thing comes to mind. 

Closing your eyes, you blow the flame out quickly, only one thing repeating in your mind as you do.

‘All I wish for is you, Julia.’

It puts a small smile on your lips, that much you can’t deny, and as you open your eyes you see the smile is mirrored by the girl across from you, her soft, plump lips stretching into that familiar smile you love oh so much.

“Soooo, what did you wish for?” She asks playfully, smirking at the silly smile painted on your face. 

“I don’t wish and tell Juli, those are the rules.” You make a play on the popular saying, backing away from her slowly, as if she wouldn’t notice. Her eyes narrow at you, like she knew something you didn’t.

“Oh really, that’s how it is?” She moves closer to you on the bed, knees just about touching now as she continues her interrogation, looking up at you through her painted lashes. 

“Mhm, that’s exactly how it is mi amor.” The casual nickname slips out from between your lips as she leans in closer to you, face only centimeters from your own. You see the way her eyes flick down to rest on your lips for just a second, her hands creeping onto your knees carefully, like she didn’t want to startle you.

You copy her, eyes looking down at the soft lips not too far away from yours, wanting nothing other than to just close the gap between you.

“Do it.” The faint whisper comes from the girl across from you, her lips barely parted as she speaks in that low faint tone, her eyes briefly meeting yours as they look up from your lips. Your eyes look back down at her lips, tongue peeking out to wet your lips quickly. “Kiss me.”

You don’t waste another second after that, leaning in and capturing her lips with your own. They were everything you could have hoped for and more, sweet like the candy you had shared before, with just the smallest hint of mango from the lipgloss she had put on earlier in the day. Her lips were soft like pillows and it felt like you were dreaming, in what world could she not be a figment of your imagination.

When she starts to pull away you chase after her lips, one taste of her and you were already hooked on the drug that is Julia Romero. 

“Was that what you wished for?” She asks, her hand pressing against the middle of your chest to almost stop you from catching her lips with yours again.

“Yes, you, all I wished for was you.” Julia smiles with her whole face, looking at you all sweetly like she always did, that love in her eyes stronger than ever. 

“Good, because that’s what I wished for too.” Your expression turns confused, like you couldn’t understand what she was saying.

“You wished for yourself too?” The girl has to keep herself from rolling her eyes at your stupidity, instead laying down on the bed just beside where you’re still sitting up and extending her arms out for you to crawl into.

“You’re a dumbass.” She says, laughing as you bury your face in her neck and sigh loudly, throwing your leg around her hips and pulling her entire body into yours.

“Yeah but I’m your dumbass.” Now that you knew she liked you, you would never let her go. And based on the way she laughed and hummed in agreement, you were pretty sure she liked the idea of that too.

—----------------------

The next few months go surprisingly well, with Julia coming down to visit on the weekends every month and you going up to Madrid two weeks after that. The months neither of you had time to visit, that’s when facetime was used the most. 

It hurt, not being able to see each other every day, but that was simply life. School and training started picking up again, especially as you had finally been moved up to the senior team permanently, playing in the dying minutes of games and even scoring at times.

But you knew that it would pay off, all the time spent on the pitch and away from your girlfriend, as you got to dedicate all the goals you scored to her. When you scored, the first thing you did was kiss the tape you always had around your wrist (from an old injury that still caused some pain), her name hidden beneath a layer of it, before you ran towards the camera at the corner flag to do your half of the duo celebration you’d both come up with years ago.

In reality it was just a handshake, but you did your half of it in front of the camera every time, no matter what, because you knew she was at home doing the other half.

That was until the last game of the 21/22 season, Sevilla v Barcelona. The team hadn’t lost a game the whole season, undefeated in Liga F and you wanted to break their streak. 

Definitely not because a certain someone was in the crowd, waving enthusiastically every time your eyes met as you warmed up. No, it wasn’t her. 

You wanted to impress her, not that you’d ever tell her that, seeing as you’d never hear the end of it if you did. 

Like usual, you sat on the bench for most of the game, exchanging silly faces with your girl, not even batting an eye as Barcelona hit the net one, two, three, four, five times. She was all you could focus on when you sat on the uncomfortable bench, leg bouncing up and down in anticipation for the call to get on the pitch.

“Y/l/n, it’s time, go warm up.” Your coach told you, watching with careful eyes as you started going through the motions of warming up. It was only the 65th minute, so you had plenty of time to make your mark on the game, like you wanted to.

Only a minute or two later you’re standing at the sidelines, looking back to where your girl is sitting for a bit of reassurance, the girl flashing a big smile and two equally enthusiastic thumbs up your way. Taking a big breath in, you breathe out through your mouth, holding your hands up for your teammate to slap as she makes her way off the pitch for you to enter.

“This is surely not what Barcelona have expected from Sevilla, 14 year old superstar in the making Y/n Y/l/n stepping onto the pitch, towering over her grown opponents as she takes her place in the striker position.” The commentators explain to the people watching the game online, looking on as the game restarts, the ball in Barcelona’s half. You can feel the atmosphere in the stadium, the small section of Sevilla fans cheering louder than the Barcelona fans for just a moment as you step on. 

The academy product, scoring against women twice her age most of the time, a superstar from their very own city. They had the right to be proud.

Loudest of all was your girlfriend, standing and cheering for you in one of your old Spain jerseys, as much as she did love you, there was no way that she would ever wear another team’s shirt.

The Barcelona team you were meeting was probably the most difficult team to play against, their skilled midfielders keeping the ball from you and the centerbacks keeping you from ever getting close to their goal. Still, you were nothing if not determined.

Getting the ball back to your feet, you think about all the videos you’d watched and analyzed of the opposing team, how they built up their attacks, how they closed down other teams, everything. All of it is in your head, you know them, you know how they play and you know how to use it to your advantage.

Starting your run through the middle of the pitch, the first player you encounter is Ana-Maria, her style was easy, and it was even easier to tap the ball between her open legs and push around her, continuing your run. 

The next player running towards you is a certain Aitana Bonmatí, undoubtedly one of the best players in the world and a player that’s more difficult to get through, given not only the technical skill she possesses but also the pure physicality of the shorter woman. Switching the ball onto your non-dominant foot, you quickly maneuver it to the other one, flicking the ball up in the air before taking advantage of the height difference to run around her and head the ball back down to your foot. 

Next up was Mapí Leon, a player that wouldn’t hesitate to use brute force to stop you from getting the ball in the goal, still, like Bonmati she was quite short. Running straight at her, like you predicted, she slides in to get the ball, only you’ve already chipped it straight over her outstretched legs, running to the edge of the penalty box. 

The last line of defense, Paños, the one you have the most trouble reading. The goalkeeper rushes out towards you, making herself as big as possible to be able to deflect any shot from your foot. The one thing she doesn’t realize is the fact that you have a knack for curling the ball around the keeper in the most infuriating way possible.

The whole team watches with stunned expressions as the ball travels towards the goal, landing in the bottom corner with a satisfying swish. Two minutes, that’s all it took for you to make your mark on the game, two damn minutes.

Running towards the Sevilla fans on the opposite side of the pitch, you dutifully kiss the tape on your wrist, then tap the badge atop your heart before stopping in front of your girlfriend, holding your hand out to do your celebration.

Moments later, after the whole handshake is done, you wink at her before taking your leave, not forgetting to bow down in front of the screaming fans. Sure, you were still 5-1 down, but you had just scored against the biggest team in the country so you were allowed to celebrate.

Returning to your position, the game restarts and you immediately notice the increased mancoverage on you, you could barely even get the ball before there would be an annoying Barcelona player breathing down your neck.

Using this to your advantage, you distracted the women around you as your teammates built up attacking plays. At the same time, you were still freshly on with loads of energy, leaving the tired players to chase after you as you made runs upon runs.

In the 76th minute you see your teammate run up the wing and you just know she needs a head to meet the ball she plays into the box. Running as fast as you can, you launch yourself up towards the ball, angling it down to the ground just inside the goal with your head, like a bird of sorts.

A brace off the bench against one of the best teams in the world, yeah that’s just something you would do. This time you run towards the cornerflag, your team surrounding you as you get various pats on your head and shoulders. When the team starts to leave to their positions on the field, you decide to do one last thing in front of the furious Barcelona fans. 

You blow a kiss to the crowd, laughing at their overreactions to the simple gesture.

In the 89th minute, you find yourself surrounded by shorter women, all trying to keep you from rising up above them and heading the ball from the corner into the goal. Like the slippery eel you are, you try to run circles around them, trying to confuse them with your position.

When you finally settle between two of their defenders you decide to be a little cheeky, one of your favorite pastime activities.   

“So are all Barca defenders this short? Or have I just struck gold today?” You tease Mapi, who’s elbow meets your ribs harshly, almost making you double over in pain. There wasn’t much muscle protecting your dear ribs yet, or the rest of your body to be fair, so impact was felt to the full extent.

“Are you not meant to be doing your fifth grade homework?” She asks in the same tone as you had before, looking back at you with that oversure expression on her face. You just know that you have to wipe it off her face, with a goal preferably.

“Aren’t you supposed to be playing bingo with the other elders? Or can you just not reach the table?” Before Mapi can retort, the ball is played into the box and with athleticism that only Zlatan could rival, you leap up into the air, twisting around so that your heel meets the ball with your back to the goal, a perfect scorpion kick.  Well as perfect as it could be with you ending up on the ground in the goal.

Dying minute bangers, another specialty of yours.

Blowing another kiss, this time towards the Spanish defender standing dumbfounded in front of you, you get up off the floor, running past her to get back to your own half, not without yelling a quick “that one was for you” to the world class defender. All in good fun of course, you wouldn’t do it maliciously, especially not seeing as they were still leading.

The final whistle is blown only moments later, leaving you to collapse onto the pitch in pure exhaustion from the game. Considering the fact that you’d already played a full 90 against a U23 team earlier that week, you were pretty tired.

Wondering silently if you could just take a nap in the middle of the field, you’re interrupted in your daydreaming by a hand in front of your face, a hand leading up to a player in blaugrana. 

“You had a good game kid, next time though, could you not score a hattrick off the bench?” Mapi helps you up and off the ground, shaking your hand properly as you just stand there, a silly smile on your face.

“I can score a double hat trick with a start if that would make you feel any better?” The older defender ruffles your hair quickly at the teasing before she lets you go, sending you on your merry way to wherever it is you went after games.

Trudging across the pitch, you almost fall into your girlfriend’s arms as soon as you get close enough, pretty much falling asleep in the crook of her neck. She giggles sweetly and the sound paints a smile on your face, her whispered complaints of how sweaty you were drowned out by your playful yawns. 

Pulling away from her neck, your eyes meet and your cheeks turn even more red than before, the physical exertion from the match clearly catching up to you. But no kiss was exchanged, you two wanted to keep your blooming relationship to yourselves and away from the public eye, leading to the act of just being best friends continuing out in the open.

Your girlfriend’s eyes shift from your own to something behind you, eyes widening exponentially at what she found.

“What’s up?” You ask Julia, who just continues to stare at something over your shoulder.

“Enemy, 6 o’clock.” Is all she says in response, rolling her eyes when you just look at her confused, placing her hands on either side of your head to turn it back to where she was looking. A smiling Alexia Putellas making her way over to where you’re standing next to your girlfriend is the last thing you were expecting, but that’s exactly what was happening.

“What the fu-” You start before one of the hands placed on the sides of your head lands over your mouth, Julia clearly not wanting you to swear in front of a legend. Licking her palm, Julia snatches her hand back as quickly as she had put it there, wiping her hand on the front of her shirt.

Looking back at her with a smirk, Julia rolls her eyes again before she slaps the back of your head, Alexia having stopped right in front of you, an unreadable expression on her face.

“You played really good today Y/n, impressive for your age, don’t be surprised if you hear from your agent within the coming days.” She smiles before turning on her heel, almost whiplashing you with the quick statement. 

Looking back at the brunette, she meets your gaze with a knowing look in her eyes and a smile stretched across her lips.

“Accept it.” Julia tells you silently, the fond look never disappearing off her face.

“What?” You ask the Real Madrid youth player, not understanding what she meant by that. There wasn’t a world wherein Julia Romero would tell you to join Barcelona.

“If you get a contract offer from them, you have to accept it.” She clarifies, looking you in the eyes deeply, like she was telling you that she was being fully truthful, which she was either way.

“Why?”

“It’s what’s best for your career, I won’t let a little rivalry destroy us. Plus it'll make El Clasico 10 times more fun when I’ll absolutely crush you.” She winks at the end, making you blush once again.

“Oh in your dreams, pretty girl.” Starting to walk back to your locker room, you keep up the conversation with your girl, walking backwards to see her.

“You know you are.” Stumbling over your feet, you fall back onto your butt at the words, the already visible blush on your face growing darker, both at the words but also what you had done.

It’s just like you to score a hattrick against the best team in the world then trip over your own feet walking backwards.

—---------------------------

Just like that, a few days later Barcelona offered you a contract and the rest was history. You moved out of the small house in Sevilla to Barcelona, where you moved into the home of the two overbearing English women. A key part in the 22/23 Champions League winning squad, you scored a goal in the final of the competition, the winning goal that got you the shiny gold medal hanging over your bed, which then led to you being called up to the senior national team and winning a World Cup gold, but that’s a story for another day.

You continued to see Julia on the weekends neither of you had anything to do, getting on a train to Madrid under the guise of having a sleepover with Vicky, meeting up with your girl, spending the night and then going back to Barcelona just in time for Lucy to pick you up from Vicky’s house. Sure it cost you a good 100 euros every time, with the train tickets and the so-called ‘Vicky bribe’, but it was so worth it.

You got a weekend with your girlfriend and Vicky got 20 euros. A win-win.

During the two years you’d lived with the English women, they hadn’t suspected anything, not that you had a girlfriend nor that you went and visited her as often as you possibly could.

Well they didn’t suspect anything until the Clasico, where they had seen you both laughing and smiling all secretly to each other, like something was going on between you and the Real Madrid player.

Coincidentally, that day was also the day when your girlfriend first met your unofficial parents. 

—-------------------------

The first El Clásico you had played against your girl had ended in a 4-1 win to Barcelona, with you scoring a brace and Julia scoring Madrid’s sole goal. She had been moved up to the first team at the start of the 23/24 season and despite her technically being your enemy, you were still over the moon for her.

As soon as the final whistle had been blown, you dropped to the floor like you always did, ready to take an impromptu nap right there and then.

A recognisable giggle sounds from above you, opening one eye to look up at the white clad midfielder standing in front of you with a hand out, you don’t waste a second before taking the hand in your own, pulling the girl down onto the ground instead of pulling yourself up.

“Lia, my sweetheart, what are you doing down on the ground?” You ask her playfully as she slaps your shoulder, sitting up and looking down at you with that captivating smile on her face, rolling her eyes at you like you loved.

“You’re an idiot, you know that.” Nodding along with her words, you mirror her, sitting up and leaning your weight back onto your hands, smiling mischievously her way.

“Yeah, you’ve told me like a gazillion times.” Wifting your arms around as you speak, you don’t notice Lucy and Keira making their way over to you and your ‘friend’.

“Told you what?” Lucy interrupts, looking between you and Julia rapidly, trying to understand the relationship there, friends or something more. 

“Nothing special Lucifer, did you want anything or did you just come to interrupt?” Stifling a laugh at Lucy's expression, you look at your girlfriend, thinking you’d see a smile stretched over her pillowy lips, instead finding what you assume to be a look of dread on her face.

Rolling your eyes good naturedly, you stand up from your sitting position and dust yourself off before offering a courteous hand to your secret girlfriend, who takes it and stands up, half hiding behind you.

“Right, Robert, Keira, this is my childhood friend Julia, who unfortunately plays for Real Madrid which means she’ll never win anything ever.” You tease the brunette, like you always did, it was just too easy. Still, you were met with a slap to the back of your head, like usual, before she sticks her hand out to properly introduce herself to your pseudo moms. 

“Julia Romero, nice to meet you both.” The way you’re looking at her definitely exposes you more than it should, but you don’t mind it, the two women in front of you knew nothing about your love life as it was.

“Childhood friends you say? Nothing else…?” Lucy really wasn’t smooth, or subtle for that matter as she tried asking you the question they were both thinking.

“Childhood friends, we’re actually best friends but I didn’t think that was a worthwhile distinction.” You respond sassily, Lucy ruffling your hair before you could even try to stop her, and whilst it was annoying for you, it did put a smile on Julia’s face and that was all that mattered.

“Alright, alright, just wrap it up soon, the bus leaves in 15.” The two leave after that, and suddenly you’re just standing with your girlfriend, all alone. 

“Well, I should get going, my teammates are probably wondering where I am.” Her voice trails off as she points over her shoulder and you smile, raising your eyebrows softly.

“I’ll see you in a couple weeks.” 

As you both make your way back to your respective locker rooms, you’re both oblivious to the bets being placed on what your relationship actually is.

—------------------------------

Champions League final 2024, one of the biggest games of your career, big games that keep piling up as you play for Barcelona. A final, it was a final and Jona had insisted on starting you.

Big breath in, big breath out. It’s fine. You can do this.

Walking out onto the pitch, your eyes immediately search for her, the twinkling green that you love so so much. She waves at you all excited in the old and tattered spain jersey she had insisted on wearing. Breath in, breath out. It’s time.

The first 20 minutes or so are calm, filled with counter attacks and defending against another one of the best teams in the world, it’s just Lyon.

Weaving through defender after defender, not unlike how you had against your current team nearly two years before, your brain is on autopilot, just focusing on getting the ball in the goal no matter what. And that you do, curling the ball around the defenders, watching as it ends up in the top corner of the goal.

Champions League final, yeah right.

Pointing to the brunette in the stands, everyone in the arena understands that the goal was dedicated to her, no one seeing the wink you send her though before you return to restart the game.

The rest is pretty simple, Aitana scoring just before half time and then Alexia scoring only minutes after coming on as a substitute. It all goes so fast, because suddenly the final whistle goes and you’ve won another Champions League.

You won the Champions League. 

You don’t realize it until after you’ve all gotten your medals and done the trophy lift. No, it isn’t until there’s a sprinting Julia Romero heading your way that you actually register it, you won. 

There’s a split second between when you catch her and when you make the decision to kiss her that you can’t help but think about all that has happened since you first got together. Two Champions League finals won, a World Cup victory, a contract from Barcelona, her getting into the senior squad at Real Madrid, her winning various tournaments with the youth teams, her joining you in the senior national team. So much had happened in so little time, and yet she was the best thing of all.

And so, you kiss her. For the first time, you actually kiss her in public, in front of friends and family, but also the millions of people watching from behind their screens. Her legs wrap tightly around your waist, arms tangling around your neck, fingers running through your hair. Your hands settle under her thighs, supporting her body so that she wouldn’t be able to just fall off.

The kiss is just magical, PG enough so that you don’t get yelled at but still some tongue action going on. Her lips are as soft as the day you first kissed her, just as sweet but now there’s a hint of salt, wet tears rolling down her cheeks as she kisses you.

Pulling away, your hands roam up until they settle against the sides of her face, thumbs brushing away the tears that just seem to keep on falling. Her forehead leans against yours, nose nudging yours as she asks for another kiss.

Releasing her legs from their grip around your waist, Julia stands in front of you, her arms threading around your neck again as she brings you down for yet another kiss, this one not as passionate, more like a congratulations kiss. Pulling back, she pecks your lips twice before fully letting you go.

“Why are you crying baby?” Tears were still rolling down her face, no matter how much you tried to wipe them, they kept on coming. 

“I’m just so proud of you, look at how far you’ve come. You won the Champions League.” Smiling at her adorable reasoning, you lean in to kiss her once more, well that is until you’re interrupted, yet again by a certain someone.

“Childhood friends huh? Nothing more? I knew you were together, I could see it.” Turning towards Lucy, you roll your eyes at the statement, clearly she did know a little, but obviously not everything.

“So you know that I actually didn’t sleep over at Vicky’s all those times then? That I was really in Madrid all those times?” You tease, which was probably a bad idea, considering the fact that you definitely were not allowed to go to Madrid over the weekends. “Amor, I’ll see you in a little.” You rush out before you start running, Lucy wasting no time and chasing after you.

A calmer looking Keira comes up to Julia, who’s standing there dumbfounded, and offers her the hand that’s not clutching onto the trophy.

“Welcome to our little family, they do that sometimes, same level of maturity, them two.” Julia shakes her head fondly, looking at the terrified expression you’re wearing as you get chased around the pitch. “They’ll calm down soon, then we can take some pictures together, all of us. You’ll come home with us later, right?” 

And even though Julia knew she’d be teased for the rest of her life, she still stood and posed for photos with you and the CL trophy her rivals had won. 

Photos that later got posted to your instagram with the caption;

My trophy and my wife, nothing better in life.

[fleurvi]

The Babysitter | ShokoHime x Reader

pairing: shoko ieri x fem!reader x utahime iori

genre: smut (minors dni)

wc: 4.1k

cw: babysitter!reader, non-curse au, shokohime are married, threesome, strap-on sex, scissoring, handcuffs, vibrators, double penetration, hair pulling

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You had picked up a part-time gig babysitting for your neighbours to support your income from your regular day job. He is a sweet boy, he is a nice boy, but he is most certainly not a good boy. Due to all the trouble caused by Yuji, his mothers pay much more than anyone else in the area.

You've been their sole babysitter for months, getting to know the whole family. Both women are intimidating figures, but they're so gentle with their son that it's easy to tell that they're real softies, especially Utahime. You get a familiar throbbing between your legs when they make eye contact with you, and you feel so guilty about your rising feelings for the women who have so kindly welcomed you into their home.

You've been called out to babysit Yuji again, and you happily accepted. While walking over, you cross your fingers that the pair will still be home when you get there.

When you knock on the huge doors, you're expecting Yuji to open the door, but instead, you're met with Utahime 's smiling face. Utahime is the less intimidating of the two parents. She greets you kindly, letting you into the house. She walks you into the abnormally tidy living room. Shoko is there, sitting on the couch.

“Hi, Doctor” you greet.

“Hi, Doll,” she responds, flashing a smile that makes you uneasy. The pet name has heat rising beneath your skin. Utahime walks over to the bar in the living room that's usually locked up while you're here. “Would you like a drink, Darling?”

“No, thank you. I don't think drinking on the job is a good idea,” You say, taking a seat next to Shoko, who has shifted over to make room for you.

“Aren't you responsible?” laughs Utahime. “But, I have to apologise. We called you here on false pretences,” she says, passing her wife a drink and taking a seat on your other side. You fidget in your seat, worried that they may have figured out your growing affection for the pair of them.

“False pretences?” you ask.

“Yes. Yuji is currently at his friend's house, and during our time alone, Shoko and I were discussing some recently developing fantasies we've had,” she says, leaning in close to you. You cross and uncross your legs, hoping to get some relief for your panties that grow wetter by the second. You're not oblivious to the connotations of Utahime's words. Shoko's fingers slip under your chin and tilt your face so you can look into her eyes. Her usual stony expression sits on her face, but you can see a different kind of fire burning in her iris’.

“If you decline our advances, we will pay you double our usual fee, drop you home and never speak of this again. If you accept and allow us to, we'd love to make you feel good,” She says, refusing to break eye contact. Your brain takes a second to buffer. You can't quite believe that they feel the same about you. You nod and Shoko instructs you to use your words.

“Yes, please”, you whine, voice clear and loud. Within seconds, Utahime is on you, pressing kisses to your neck and wrapping her arms around you. She feels you up and squeezes your tits. Shoko watches, eyes glued to her wife's hands playing with your chest.

“Strip down for us,” says Utahime, letting go and leaning back against the sofa. You see her exchange a giddy smile with Shoko as you stand. You take everything off, down to your underwear. They're verbal in their appreciation for what you were hiding under each article of clothing you take off.

“You're so fucking hot”, growls Shoko, lips moving around the cigarette wedged between her teeth so she could speak. Utahime extends her hand towards you and pulls you onto her lap, helping you into a straddling position. She kisses around the cup of your bra as the edges of Shoko’s nails slide against your shoulder blades and underneath the back of your bra. In one harsh movement, she unclips the garment, making it easy for Utahime to pull it from your body. Utahime attaches her lips to your nipple, biting down to make you yelp. Shoko remains in her seat. The soft scrape of her nails causes goosebumps to rise over your skin.

“Are you going to join us, Doctor?” you ask, wanting to get any part of her body on you.

“I'm right here. Is Utahime not enough for you? Greedy girl,” she responds, pressing the point of her nails into your thigh. Utahime pulls away from your chest.

“Don't worry about Shoko. She likes to watch. Just focus on me,” she says, lifting her head to your neck, licking up the side before pressing a messy kiss to your jaw. Utahime presses her fingers to your clothed pussy, smiling against your neck when you whimper.

Both women are staring you down like you're their last meal. The way Shoko watches you through a cloud of smoke, like a beast stalking its prey, sends shivers up your spine. You should be intimidated by the power both women exude, but they just excite you. Utahime’s mouth is rough, but she handles you gently.

“I think it's time we take you to bed, huh?” Utahime asks you. Then she turns towards Shoko. “Darling, put that out so you can give her a kiss,” she says to Shoko, who rolls her eyes but does as she's told anyway. She puts out her cigarette in the ashtray on the table. She reaches her hand into your hair, pulling you into an aggressive kiss, all teeth and dripping with saliva. Her tongue isn't shy, pushing into your mouth with ease, filling it with the taste of smoke.

When Shoko lets you go, Utahime lifts you up and over her shoulder. The ease with which Utahime lifts you is surprising. You're carried through a familiar hallway but then into a room you've never entered before. You're dropped down onto silk bed sheets, and both women take a second to watch you.

“Give us something pretty to look at while we strip”, says Shoko, reaching her hand up to unbutton her blouse. “Don't be shy, Dollface. Show us how you touch yourself when you think of us.”

Before getting started on her clothes, Utahime takes a moment to pull your underwear down your legs. She throws them behind her, not caring where they land. You look back at Shoko, who's still waiting for her show. You nervously reach a hand down to your pussy, gently running two fingers between your lips and collecting your wetness. You start with slower circles at the clit as Shoko removes her shirt. You hear more vocal encouragement from Utahime and speed your fingers up.

“Bet that pussy tastes divine”, growls Utahime, eager to get her mouth on you. You slip your fingers down to your hole and press two fingers into you. The women groan as they watch you. Once they've removed all their clothes, Utahime swats your hand away from your aching pussy and kneels on the floor, dragging you to the edge of the bed. Shoko is quick to join this time, grabbing your wrist and guiding your soaked fingers to her mouth. Her tongue swirls around your fingers, and she groans at your taste.

Utahime’s hands grip the back of your thighs, pushing your knees closer to your chest and holding you spread open for her. She leans in, licking from your back hole to your clit. She suctions her mouth around your clit, flicking her tongue in a way that has your hands flying between your legs to grab at her hair.

“She's good at that, huh?” asks Shoko, laughing when you nod. “What about you? You eat pussy like that?” She asks, running a finger over your lips. You're unsure if you've got the experience or skill to match Utahime, but you've definitely got the enthusiasm, so you tell her ‘yes’. Shoko flashes you a predatory grin before pushing you to lie flat against the sheets. She swings her leg over your face, straddling you. Your hands move from Utahime's hair to Shoko's thighs. You pull her down onto your face pressing your tongue to her clit. She moans as you flatten your tongue, letting her rock her hips over you.

You're close; Utahimes tongue has worked you up so quickly. You try to focus on licking at Shoko's clit, but your impending orgasm has you distracted. You tap Shoko’s thigh to let her know you're going to cum, as if your moaning and shaking didn't tip her off already, and she moves off of you. She opts to whisper in your ear instead, encouraging you to let go for them.

“Come on, sweet girl. Cum for us,” she says, voice uncharacteristically sweet as she plays with your tits. Your hands are back in Utahime's hair, holding her between your legs as your orgasm crashes into you. You can feel Shoko's lips on your chest as Utahime licks your through your high. There's a static buzzing beneath your skin that settles into a warm feeling. Utahime rises from between your legs and immediately leans in to kiss her wife. You watch intently; they're so beautiful. “Fuck, she tastes so good”, groans Shoko as she pulls away.

“Doesn't she? I'd quite happily take her for another spin,” says Utahime. You squirm beneath them, waiting for them to touch you again. Utahime guides Shoko to sit against the pillows. You can tell Shoko doesn't typically follow orders, but she does so anyway. This time, Utahime grabs a handful of your hair and guides you between Shokos spread legs. You go to press your tongue against her slit and taste her, but Utahime stops you.

“You can finish what you started in a minute. First, I need you to choose what I do to this pretty pussy. I could eat you out again or play with this pretty pussy” she says, slipping her fingers between your folds. “Or I could get a strap and stretch this pretty pussy out.” You nod, eager to try all of them.

“Strap. Please, I want you to fuck me,” you whine, wiggling your hips at Utahime. You receive a quick spank at your display, jolting you forward towards Shoko's pussy. It's quiet for a second, except for Utahime opening a box from a drawer. You can hear her adjusting the strap as Shoko, who's a lot rougher than Utahime, grips a handful of hair and pulls you to her cunt. You, never one to disappoint, flatten your tongue against her and lick up her folds before settling on suckling on her clit. She tastes divine. You could sit here and worship her perfect cunt for hours.

You're so wrapped up in Shoko's pussy that you don't realise Utahime has rejoined you until the tip of her strap is poking at your hole. The strap is bigger than you've taken previously. It was probably an intentional choice on their part.

“You ready for my cock, baby?” asks Utahime, voice sickly sweet as she pushes into you. She digs her fingers into your hips as she starts to thrust. The moan that leaves you is embarrassingly loud. “Yeah, I bet that feels good,” says Utahime, rewarding your noises by wrapping an arm around you to play with your clit.

“Don't forget you've still got a job to do”, says Shoko, pulling you back between her legs. You dive back in, eagerly sucking at Shoko's clit. “That's a good girl” she groans, leaning her head back. Shoko shamelessly rocks her hips over your face as you eat her out.

“Could do this for hours”, you whine as you pull back to take a breath. You reattach your lips and press two fingers into Shoko's hole. You try your best to time your fingers to Utahime's deep thrusts inside you. Shoko is close, and she starts to close her legs around your head. You speed up your fingers, taking care to angle them correctly so she's writhing against the pillows.

The ease with which you pull Shoko over the edge does wonders for your confidence. Her juices flood your face as her moans fill the room. She's much more vocal than you had thought she would be, and the sound is music to your ears. When Shoko comes down from her high, she shimmies out from under you and shuffles to her right so she's out of the way and catches her breath.

You only get a split second to eye up Shoko's post-orgasm expression before Utahime grabs your hair and pushes you face-first into the mattress. Her thrusts are harsher now that you're done pleasing her wife. She's rutting inside you, thick strap dragging against your walls as she smacks your ass. You weren't expecting to see this side of Utahime so soon, but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't fantasised about being their little pet.

“Arch your fucking back for me,” Utahime says, smoothing her hand down your spine and bringing it back up to your ass, punctuating her order with a sharp slap. Her demeanour gets rougher the better you respond to the spanking. If she hadn't spoken to you, you could've mistaken her for Shoko. You had a feeling the ‘fantasies’ they mentioned when you first got here were kinkier than they let on.

She's fucking you good and rubbing your clit with her fingers, occasionally giving it a smack causing both her and Shoko to laugh at the way you whine at the sudden sting. You're close, pliant and moaning beneath Utahime.

“Cum for me, pretty girl”, she says in your ear, cooing as your orgasm hits. Your body twitches as you cum, pussy clenching around the strap. “That's it,” she says, carefully pulling out. “You wanna clean it up?” you hear her ask. You snap your eyes open in time to see Shoko nod, crawling towards Utahime, who has shuffled back to let you breathe. Shoko wraps her lips around the strap, sucking your juices from the toy. You think you could cum again just from watching.

“So you like a little bit of rough treatment?” Utahime asks as Shoko pulls her mouth off of the toy.

“Yeah.” You sigh. “like it when you manhandle me,” you say, with a dreamy smile on your face. You hear both women laugh, endeared by your confession.

“Oh, sweetheart, we can do a lot more than manhandle you. We've got all sorts of toys down here if you wanna have more fun with us,” says Shoko. You instantly nod, not wanting to be done yet.

“Please, I want to be good for you,” you say, sitting up more.

“Of course, we can go all night, Dollface. Just sit pretty, catch your breath and watch me make my wife cum. If you're a good girl and watch without touching yourself, we'll give you a reward, ” says Shoko, pushing Utahime to lie on her back. You focus your eyes on the pair. Shoko pulls the strap harness from Utahime, setting it aside for later. She pushes one of Utahimes legs towards her chest and straddles between them. Shoko leans forward, letting Utahime's leg rest against her shoulder and rubbing her clit against Utahimes. You watch, entranced by the vision of Shoko rocking her hips against Utahime as high-pitched moans of satisfaction fill the room.

Shoko is focused on pleasing Utahime, but looks over to you to check you're obeying her. You're so wet and dying to touch yourself, but you keep your hands at your sides gripping the sheets. Shoko works her hips, growling deep in the back of her throat as she rubs her sensitive pussy against her wife's.

“You look so good, baby. You close?” Shoko asks Utahime. Utahime nods frantically, cursing as her orgasm starts to spread through her body.

“I'm cumming, Sho, please”, she whimpers as she arches off the bed. She looks so pretty when she cums. Shoko moves from between Utahime's legs and turns to you.

“You've been a good girl, c'mere,” says Shoko, beckoning you to her side. You're pulled into a heated kiss, Shoko's tongue pushing against yours. A second pair of hands grab your waist, and you feel Utahime's lips on your neck. Her lips travel up your neck and jaw until she and Shoko lift their heads to kiss each other. You lower your head to kiss down Shokos neck and chest, stopping at her tits and taking one of her nipples into your mouth. When they pull away from the kiss, Shoko pulls you off of her by the hair. She puts her thumb in your mouth, smiling like a cat when you suck.

“How many orgasms can you take before you need a proper break?” she asks, pulling her thumb from your mouth.

Your skin is tingling, you're sensitive from two orgasms, and you're so riled up you might cum as soon as one of them touches your pussy. You know you won't last much longer.

“I can give you two more,” you say.

“Attagirl” praises Utahime, pecking your lips

“Your reward for being such a good girl will be choosing how we give you your final orgasm,” says Shoko. “But first, we get to have even more fun with you.”

Shoko removes herself from the bed and reaches underneath, pulling out a box. You watch as she pulls out a vibrating wand, handcuffs and another strap-on. She lays them all on the bed save for the handcuffs, which she passes to Utahime, who gestures for you to lift your arms above your head so that she can cuff your hands around one of the headboard bars.

“If you need to stop at any point and your mouth is occupied, just kick one of us. Understood?”

“Yes”

Shoko climbs back on the bed, grabbing the vibrating wand as she makes her way back over to your side.

“Are you having fun with us tonight?” she asks, trailing her finger down the side of your face. You nod, and Shoko raises her eyebrow, looking for a verbal response. You open your mouth to confirm, but you're cut off by Shoko slipping her fingers into your mouth. “suck my fingers, baby”. You do as you're told, pressing your tongue against her fingers.

Utahime lifts one of your legs and trails kisses from your ankle to your thigh, where she sinks her teeth, prompting you to moan around Shoko's fingers. When Shoko's satisfied, she pulls her fingers from your mouth and urges Utahime to move over. She passes the vibrator she was holding to Utahime. Shoko presses a slicked-up finger to your hole before sliding it in. It's quickly joined by a second. Shoko keeps her hand still until you start squirming desperately for something more.

Shoko gently moves her fingers, thrusting them enough to give you some satisfaction but not enough to make you cum. You go to start begging but, before you can speak, Utahime turns on the vibrator and presses the head of the wand to your clit. The sudden stimulation steals the breath from your lungs as you let out a cracked whine.

Shoko speeds up her fingers as Utahime presses the toy harder to your clit. You yelp and kick your legs out, which makes them laugh at you.

“Does that feel good, Beautiful?” asks Utahime, pressing a kiss to your leg.

“Yes, fuck”, you growl as Shoko finger fucks you to the edge of an orgasm, only to pause at the last minute. You groan and try to reach down and continue yourself, only to be stopped by the cuffs. Utahime has stopped the vibrator by now too, leaving you hanging on the edge with no way to get off. “Please, please make me cum”, you beg, continuing to pull at the cuffs. Your wrists ache a little, so you stop, deciding the best course of action is to beg for what you want.

“Shoko, please keep going. It feels so good. I need to cum so bad. Please, please, please-”

Your begging descends into moans when Shoko grants you your wish and continues her fingers inside of you. Utahime turns the vibrator back on to full power, and it's almost embarrassing the way you're already teetering on the edge of an orgasm. You're whining, blabbering nonsense as you're pushed over the edge once again.

Your orgasm washes over you like a wave drenching you in pleasure. You can hear Shoko and Utahime talking to you, but it isn't until both women still and relieve you of pleasure that you can take in what they're saying.

“That was so fucking hot, you're such a pretty girl,” Says Shoko, licking her fingers clean. Utahime nods in agreement, kissing your stomach as you come back down from your orgasm.

“You said you've got one more in you. How do you want it?” asks Utahime, lying beside you. You don't take a second to ponder. You just blurt out the first thing you think of.

“Want you both to fuck me at the same time”, you whimper as Utahime leans in to kiss you properly. You hear Shoko say OK before reaching for the spare strap and harness she had grabbed earlier. Shoko helps Utahime put one of the strap harnesses on as she's too preoccupied with kissing you. You think Utahime's saliva must have some kind of venom in it because you couldn't pull away if you tried.

Once Shoko has fastened her own strap, she uncuffs you. You shake your wrists out before using your hands to cup Utahime's face. She pulls you so that you're straddling her lap, pussy rubbing against the shaft of the toy. You pull away from the kiss when you feel Shoko test pressing the tip of her finger to the rim of your asshole.

“Before you ride ‘Hime, I've got to open you up,” She says. You hear her spit then feel it as she pushes a finger into your hole. Utahime continues to make out with you as Shoko stretches you open, adding another finger as she thrusts gently inside you. She adds a third before pulling her fingers out. “OK, now lower yourself onto Hime's strap,” she instructs as she clicks open a bottle of lube.

Utahime spits on her hand and then uses it to slick up her toy. You lift your hips so she can line it up with your hole, and she grips your hips as you slowly lower yourself down. You moan out as you sink down onto it. Once she's bottomed out inside you, Shoko pushes you to lean forward again, keeping on palm steady on your back as she slowly pushes her slicked-up strap into your ass. You're completely filled up and it's nothing like you've ever felt before. You need a few seconds to adjust, which both women grant you.

“Please move now”, you whimper once you're ready to go, and they oblige. They work together in alternating rhythms so that you're not empty. You're immediately driven to a separate plain of existence. Neither woman is holding back, their bruising grip holding you in place as they rut into you. It's almost animalistic. You can barely warn them of how close you are, struggling to form a complete sentence without slurring from the pleasure. Your eyes roll back, and you let out a filthy moan.

“That feel good?” Shoko teases, chuckling in your ear when you nod frantically at her question.

“Gonna cum for us?” asks Utahime, who has planted her feet for extra leverage as she thrusts up into you. You're teetering on the edge of an orgasm, unable to warn them before it comes barrelling into you. You shake in the hold, moaning and whining as you cum all over their cocks. You can hear them praising you, but you're barely taking it in. Your orgasm is akin to an out-of-body experience, ethereal yet grounded. Your skin is still tingling when you regain your breath.

Shoko and Utahime help you off of them, lying you on the sheets next to them. Shoko takes off her strap and lays next to you, massaging any potentially sore parts of your body and telling you how good you were, while Utahime does a rough cleanup job of the toys and starts the shower.

“You did so good for us, Doll. Do you want to get in the shower and then go to sleep? Or do you wanna get in the shower and go for round two?” Shoko asks, running her hand up your side. You think for a second. As much as you'd love to go again, you're tired. You can only hope that the invitation to stay the night can lead to more in the future.

“I'm sleepy,” you say in response. Shoko nods, wiggling out of bed.

“C'mon then. Hime's waiting for us”

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Been wanting to post this for so long, hope you enjoy!!

[prettieinpink]

HOW TO START IMPLEMENTING CHANGE + STAY MOTIVATED

HAVE A REASON. It is going to be hard to start inputting change in your life if you do not even have a reason why. That reason also has to come from within, not from any other externalities (friends, school, work, family). This reason has to make you strive to be better.

If you’re unsure about your reason, write down times when you feel your happiest and when you feel your lowest, then notice any common themes. 

BUILD DISCIPLINE. Discipline is the ability to be productive without hesitation or distractions. The only way to build it, is to practice it. Do the things you need/want to do, regardless of how you feel in the present.

Just remember, that you always feel better after committing to yourself.

MAKE YOUR PLAN SUSTAINABLE. Your routines and habits you want to implement, need to be at arm’s length for you. While I do believe in challenging yourself if your mind perceives that specific activity as ‘too hard’, it is going to make you avoid that task.

This is a reaction from your ego coming out of your comfort zone because it is so unfamiliar it wants to protect if anything ‘bad’ happens e.g. failure, loss of control and criticism. 

Reminder, that part of you is not bad at all nor is it holding you back. It is the part of you that wants to keep you safe. For your ego to allow you to do tasks out of your comfort zone, it needs to be simple and easy. Then from there, you can build it up to your ideal habit or routine. 

MAKE YOUR ENVIRONMENT INTENTIONAL. Your mind, space and the people around you need to be decluttered and serve a purpose. For your mind, avoid feeding it with an overload of information especially if you are not going to apply it. Minimise social media use and journaling instead of looking for a quick fix. 

Your space, specifically your bedroom has to be the best place for you to grow. Everything in your room needs to serve a purpose, it has to be kept clean to ensure mind clarity and place intentional items around to support your goals (mantras, workout mat, water bottle, instruments). 

The people around you have to support you and your journey. I don’t believe in the ‘value’ or ‘worth’ people have, but rather what you think of them. Someone could be the most overachieving and productive person ever, so they may inspire you, but what if they don’t wish the best for you? People who will support you regardless are the best resource ever.

BE FLEXIBLE. The ability to edit your habits or routine when needed so you can stick to a schedule or adapt to change is a powerful but underrated skill. Anything in life can happen, but if we want to stick to our goals, we need to develop flexibility. 

The best way to develop flexibility is to try everything. For example, meditation. Do 5, 10, 15, and 20 minutes, try it in the morning, afternoon or evening, do a guided one or do it by yourself. To get flexible in a habit, you need to expand your capabilities in that habit. 

ALWAYS SOMETHING RATHER THAN NOTHING. Typically during the day, we procrastinate because we want the challenging task to be perfect or we believe there’s not enough time/resources to do it. 

However, just having that small progress each day is always better than nothing. One sentence is better than none, one healthy meal is better than none, 2 minutes of exercise is better than none etc. 

HAVE GOALS THAT YOU LIKE. The reason so many people dislike doing their habits or routines is because it’s not stuff that’s enjoyable for them. It’s habits and routines that they got online from someone completely different. 

Choose your favourite way of exercising, read your favourite books(even graphic ones!) and journal the way you want. If the steps to becoming your best self are steps that you dislike, then it is not your best self. 

IDENTIFY THE WAY YOU SELF-SABOTAGE. If you are struggling to implement change, chances are there are small self-destructive behaviours that are in your routines that hold you back. 

This could be major procrastination, doom-scrolling, an addiction or binge eating. You either have to completely extract these habits from your life or you can do these things in moderation. 

TAKE REGULAR BREAKS. If you are being productive back-to-back and not allowing yourself to cool down, your motivation will deplete quickly. Have around 1-2 hours in your day doing anything you like.

If needed, after each task, take 5-10 minutes for yourself. However, do avoid your phone for these periods and try to be present in whatever you do here. 

HAVE SOFT DAYS. Days in which you do not have to do anything hardcore or intense, and you’re just living. While yes, be somewhat productive but nothing too intense.

This can be your reset, detox or self care days, or all of them combined!

[munsonluhvr]

ohhhh and i honestly need more professor!eddie x student!reader

imagine he’s her professor. he’s like 39 and she’s 19. and just a hot secret affair ahhh.. where she’s the one to intend this relationship first like seducing him and all and getting fucked on the desk all the time!! he sometimes has to hold her mouth shut because she’s so loud!!

SCHOOL GIRL CRUSH

a/n: thank u so much for another amazing request. I hope u like it! I loved writing this sm, im tempted to write a part two in the future.

synopsis: professor!eddie munson x student!reader. unable to resist your professor munson, you begin seducing him, making every visit to his office hours productive. lucky for you, all your efforts pay off in the end. word count - 4.7k warnings: 18+, explicit content // age gap relationship, throat fucking, p in v, cum eating, fingering, finger sucking.

Your ears are numb to the sound of your classmates engaging with Professor Munson, answering his questions eagerly to please the young and handsome teacher. You’re trapped in your own mind as you imagine Professor Munson bending you over his desk, his ungraded essays cluttered underneath your upper body. You imagine your thighs shivering and growing goosebumps as his fingertips graze your legs, hooking his pointer fingers onto your panties and pulling your undergarment down as slow as possible… 

“Are you listening, y/n?” Professor Munson asks as he leans against his long wooden desk, his legs crossed in front of him. You sit in the front row, of course, to be able to gain his attention. Your legs are outstretched in front of you and Professor Munson taps your foot with his. “Care to share what you’re day dreaming about with the rest of the class?” 

You blush, shaking your head quickly. “I wasn’t daydreaming, I was listening.” You lean forward on your desk, resting your elbow on the tabletop, your hand cupping your chin. Bending at the waist, you push your chest forward, allowing Professor Munson to get a front-row view of your breasts that are supported by your bra. 

Professor Munson, or Eddie which is what he allows you to call him in his office hours, lets his eyes dip to your exposed chest but he catches himself quickly, coughing into a close fist. “I see; let’s switch to talking about the book we read last week that we didn’t get to talk about.” He says to the class.

 You sit in the small classroom, your other classmates scattered about the room; there’s only about fifth teen of you, the classroom big enough to fit at least thirty students. Above the chalkboard is a clock that ticks rhythmically, and you watch for the next ten minutes as the class talks amongst themselves. Today was the day you’d go for the kill, feeling as if you and Professor Munson were playing a cat and mouse game since the beginning of the semester. 

Professor Munson was young, probably in his mid to late thirties, and incredibly attractive. Though he was physical attractive, an angelic face with soft features that combine to create a beautiful face, Professor Munson also had a ‘swagger’ about himself, a confidence that you could sense from a mile away. He never dressed, nor acted, like any of your other professors, he wore black ripped jeans, various metal band t-shirts and utilized an informal teaching style.  Nonetheless you enjoyed Professor Munson’s class, though you had to admit, you had an agenda. You wanted to fuck him. 

It all started in the beginning of the semester when you first walked into the classroom. You were automatically enamored by Eddie, easily charmed by his charisma and good looks. It was then and there where you began developing a plan, each week bringing you a step closer to today. 

Over the first two months of the semester, you had frequented his office hours, finding that even though the other girls in the class giggled about how cute he was, nobody went to his office hours leaving you hours to occupy his time. Professor Munson welcomed it happily: at first he quizzed you about the class readings, forcing you to engage with the conversations that happened during class. Though as the weeks went on, your meetings became more personal, and he started to ask you about your background, where you’re from, what your family is like. You were able to get some answers out of Eddie as well; it was fair game after all.

For a while you weren’t able to figure out if Eddie was understanding your motives, or if he found you as attractive as you found him. If he did, he kept it well hidden as a university Professor should. However, the last few meetings you had gave you no doubt in your mind that now was the time to try, to attempt to discover uncharted territory of what is Eddie’s body.  

Two weeks ago, you had visited office hours in hopes of getting your midterm essay edited with suggestions from Eddie; why not try to improve your grade while trying to get fucked? You were planning on making it a quick visit, meant to leave Eddie with dirty thoughts about you. You had worn your shortest skirt, barely covering the paisley patterned panties you wore, a long-sleeved t-shirt with the three buttons at the top completely unbuttoned. With ease, and all the casualty in the world, you brought your paper, printed and paperclipped together, to Eddie’s office, coming around the side of his desk to drop it in front of him. 

“Thank you so much for looking at my paper before the deadline, I just want to make sure I get it right,” you had said, your eyes soft and doe eyed. 

Eddie nodded slightly, his eyes drifting from your face down to your completely bare thighs. “O-Of course, Miss y/n. I’m happy to though I’m sure there’s not much to be corrected.”  You spied his hands resting on his desk, and you took the opportunity to make skin on skin contact. 

You placed your hand on top of his, feeling the coolness of his silver rings that were scattered across his long fingers. You laugh softly, the reverberation causing your breasts to jiggle on your chest. “You’re so kind to me, Professor Munson.” Your fingers curled around his soft hand, and you let it rest there, taunting Eddie to almost say ‘See? You could have all this. Come find out.’ There’s no doubt in your mind, standing in his office, all alone, barely clothed, that he wanted to jump you, lifting that tiny skirt you wore to bunch up at your midsection.

Eddie’s eyes flickered to where your hands rested together and he coughed, rolling his chair under his desk to hide his lower half. You bit your lip, hoping that a boner was what he was attempting to conceal as he pushed his bottom half under his desk. You lift your hand off of his, stepping away from the side of your desk. “I’ll come to your office hours next week to see what you thought of my research?” 

Eddie nods, his eyes no longer looking to make contact with yours. “See you then.” 

The following week you had done what you said you would, making an appearance in his office hours for the thousandth time. You had begun to grow a confidence that was reassuring, probably contributing to your delusions: a professor could never let himself fuck a student, right? Not in your world. You played innocent, pretending as if you didn’t know what you were doing as leaned across Eddie’s cluttered desk to grasp your paperclipped essay with his suggestions scribbled across it, your breasts on full display. You pretended to not know Eddie was watching as you ‘accidently’ dropped your paper on the way out of his office, making of a show of bending down to show your ass that was fitted in a lace thong – and also pretended not to understand why Eddie gasped, then coughed, as you took a moment to pick up your papers that were scattered across the entrance of his office. When you were away from his office, sauntering down the hallway, you just had to pat yourself on the back for the show you just put on. ‘Damn, I’m good at this.’ You thought to yourself, a smug smile playing across your mouth. Eddie was beginning to be just where you wanted him. 

“Well, I think we’ll leave it there for this week. Make sure to follow the syllabus and read what’s required for next week,” Professor Munson said, continuing to lean against his desk. “I’ll wait around if anyone has any questions.” 

You were slow to gather your things, tucking them all away into your backpack. You peeked around you to watch the last of your classmates filter out into the busy hallway. At last, it was just you and Eddie. 

“Professor Munson, I have a question.” You say, standing up from your seat. Oddly, you were nervous, your fingers trembling, your voice wavering. Perhaps you are afraid of rejection. 

Eddie hums, his eyes flickering to where you stand. “What can I do for you, y/n?” 

‘So much’ you think. “Well, I just feel like I’m not following the discussion in class. As if reading all the material isn’t enough to understand what we’re talking about. Perhaps I need a more hands-on approach?” You say, stepping forward to where Eddie rests against his desk. 

“I’m not sure I’m following,” Eddie says, his arms uncrossing from in front of his chest to holding him up against the desk. “A hands-on approach?” 

You bite your lip, nodding as you step closer to him again, continuing to close the gap that exists between you and your professor. “Something more.. intimate, perhaps?” You let your backpack drop to the ground, freeing your hands. You wear a zip up hoodie that’s cropped at the waist, though underneath it your skin becomes slick with sweat and nervousness. You make a show of unzipping it slowly, the sound echoing through the classroom. Outside, students shout and chatter as they walk to their next class and for a moment you’re afraid of someone walking in. 

Eddie’s eyes watch closely as your fingers work to unzip your hoodie, then shrug it off, dropping it on top of where your backpack lays across the linoleum floor. “A-Are you referring to when I called you out for daydreaming because, of course, our minds can’t stay occupied on a single topic for a long time; studies have proven that.” Eddie says, beginning to ramble. His adams apple bobs at the front of his throat, his voice quivering. 

You smile, cocking your head to the side. Crossing your arms in front of you, you take the hem of your shirt into your fingers, lifting up and off with ease. “I’m not talking about that. I think I just need some lessons; you know?” Confidence courses through your veins, pushing the disbelief that you were stripping your clothes off for your college professor into the back of your mind. 

Eddie says nothing, his eyes watching every movement you make. His mouth gapes open slightly, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. He knows he shouldn’t be sitting against his desk watching, he should be stopping you, but he can’t move, his mind in a trance watching you, his student, bare yourself in front of him. 

You watch closely, analyzing Eddie’s facial expressions. You interpret his face as shocked, bewildered. You decide to take it another step further, reaching behind you with both hands to unclip your bra, freeing your breasts that you’ve been taunting him with. Left in only your skirt and tennis shoes, you step once more to Eddie, finally close enough to reach out and touch him. 

Your fingers play against his face, your fingertips beginning to trace his features. To your surprise, his hands reach out to grip your hips, his fingers digging into the fabric of your skirt. Eddie maneuvers you between his legs, bringing you almost nose to nose with him. The sensation of Eddie holding on to you makes your core begin to tighten, knowing he’s finally beginning to lean into game you’ve been playing. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Eddie says, his brown eyes watching as the pad of your thumb brushes against his bottom lip. You lean forward, letting your lips hover over his. “Oh, but you know you want to, Professor Munson. I know I want to,” You say, your nose nudging into his as you let your lips get closer and closer to his. 

Eddie swallows, the sound of his name rolling off your tongue creating a tender, painful boner to form against the tightness of his jeans. He wants to so bad, ever since you walked into office hours for the first time. So, innocent you were, though Eddie was no fool – he knew it was all an act. The way you were just barely an adult, only nineteen, his young pupil, yet you had the confidence and sexual charm of a grown woman. He had fallen right into your trap, a willing victim. 

Without hesitation, you let your lips gently intertwine with Eddie’s, each movement soft and delicate. Eddie hesitates at first, your lips moving against his as his mouth remains stiff though he isn’t able to refrain for long, the feeling of your soft lips against his, the sweetness of your mouth flowing into his forced him to give in. Eddie’s hands begin to move lower down your body, his hands finding their way underneath your skirt. Before he pulls your panties down, letting the drop to your ankles, he lets his fingertips drag against your cunt, feeling the way your pulsing clit is pressed against the fabric of your undergarments. To you, the feeling makes your eyes roll back, the pressure of Eddie’s fingers pressing against your most sensitive parts making your knees weak. You whine against his mouth, letting your arms wrap around his shoulders to press your bare front into his. 

It takes everything in Eddie to refrain from pulling your panties down abruptly, flipping you face down onto his desk when you whine against his mouth. Slow and steady; Eddie wants to relish every minute he’s under your spell.  Instead, Eddie pushes the fabric of your panties to the side, letting your moistness to be revealed. You drip around his fingers, your body preparing itself for his arrival. Eddie’s breath hitches when he feels how slick your cunt is, how turned on you are from merely his presence, just from a minute or so of kissing. Eddie’s stomach twists with guilt, knowing his interaction with you goes against every university code of conduct, though he couldn’t care less. With a swift movement, he lets his pointer and middle finger plunge into you, your wet core swallowing his digits whole. 

This time, the feeling of Eddie pushing his fingers inside of you causes you to moan loudly, throwing your head back, eyebrows knitted together with building frustration. Eddie takes the opportunity, now that your lips are detached, to leave a trail of gentle kisses down your chest, centering right between your breasts. With his free hand, Eddie cups your breast, letting his mouth envelop your hardened nipple.  You hand grips Eddie’s upper arm tightly as the tip of his tongue flicks across your nipple, sending a spark across your chest, your eyes pinching shut with pleasure. In a rhythmic motion, Eddie’s fingers move in and out of your cunt, your wetness from arousal beginning to drip down your inner thighs, and down the back of Eddie’s hand, down his forearm. 

Your thighs began to tremble against Eddie’s movements, his long fingers fluttering inside you, immediately attracted to the weakest spot inside of you. You feel pressure beginning to build inside your lower abdomen, the aching feeling of needing Eddie’s cock inside of you. Your eyes flutter shut; your body overwhelmed with the feeling of pleasure caused by Eddie’s thick fingers. 

You’re caught off guard when you’re moved quickly, now the one sitting against the hardwood desk, Eddie standing above you. You frown at the feeling of emptiness in your cunt, Eddie’s fingers going missing. Through your eyelashes at Eddie, your lips in a small pout. Eddie lingers above you, his tall stature seeming even taller as you sit at the edge of his desk, the hard edge digging into the softness of your ass. 

Eddie’s eyes gaze at you admiringly, his hand reaching out to touch your face in the manor you had touched his, his fingertips attending to all your soft yet beautiful features. The world around you slows to a vibrant hum, the hallways no empty, all the other students off to their next classes. You stare back at Eddie, feeling tension hang in the air similar to how humidity hangs in the air on a hot summer day. Thick and heavy. Slowly, his fingers come to a stop, his eyes never leaving your face. The pad of his thumb brushes the bottom of your lip then pushes between your lips. You part your lips, eyes wide as Eddie places his thumb on your tongue, your lips puckering around his finger. Your eyes flutter closed again, his finger moving in and out of your mouth as you suck gently on his digit, tasting the salty sweetness of his skin. 

“Such a good girl,” Eddie whispers, his voice shuddering as he feels your mouth enclose around his finger. “Such a bright student.” 

You can’t help but smile, the sound of Eddie complimenting you causing heat to creep up your neck to the apples of your cheeks. You sigh against his finger, letting your tongue cradle his thumb. Your clit begins to pulse, the anticipation beginning to kill you softly. Your eyes flutter open, letting your hands reach out to grasp his lower half, your fingers working to unbuckle his black, leather belt. Next, you pull down his fly, revealing a few inches of dark grey boxers, the outline of his cock growing more evident by the second. You let your fingers creep across the band of his jeans, using your upper arm strength to begin to tug downwards. 

Eddie pulls his thumb out of your mouth, stepping back to allow you the space to pull his pants and boxers down. You push yourself off the edge of the desk, kneeling down on the floor, in front of Eddie, to pull his pants down to his calves. Satisfyingly, Eddie’s thick cock bounces free from the confines of his jeans, his pink tip at your eye-level. With no hesitation, nor second thoughts, you take his cock into your hand, your mouth opening to welcome him down your throat. Eddie’s member bulges as you guide him gently down the canal of your throat, your lips puckering in a way that that’s you engulf him. You feel him shudder underneath your touch, his eyes pinching shut, his hand finding its way into the thickness of your hair. His fingers intertwine in your hair, allowing Eddie a good grip to guide you how he pleases. 

Eddie is only the second person you’ve ever fucked, though your positive the first time barely counts. And he’s certainly the biggest cock you’ve ever dealt with, surely ever seen. Your eyes begin to water as your throat expands to fit him inside, your throat walls beginning to ache at the work it has to do to fit him. Nonetheless, you move back and forth, tears beginning to threaten to spill over onto your cheeks, Eddie moving seamlessly in your mouth. Eddie begins to thrust gently into your mouth, his body moving in autopilot as he responds to the pleasure you provide by giving him head. You whimper and moan as he utilizes your throat in just the way he likes, Eddie deciding what temp you move at, as you hold onto his thighs for balance. 

Eddie feels himself getting nearly close, though he has no intention of finishing now. He wants his time with you to last even longer. Eddie backs his hips away from your mouth, letting his cock slip out of your mouth, a single spit string attached at the tip of his cock to your mouth. He leans forward, gripping his hand tightly around your upper arm and lifting you off the ground. With authority, he spins to around, pushing you towards the wooden desk again. Placing a hand on the middle of your back, he pushes you forward, legs pressed against the front of the desk, upper torso bent across the classroom desk. Your eyes and fists squeeze together tightly, the anticipation of feeling Eddie pushed inside of you leaving you on the very edge. You’ve waited for this moment for months. All your wildest fantasies coming true. 

Eddie gently kicks your ankles, spreading your legs apart further, gathering both of your wrists into his hands, behind your back. He leans forward, hovering near your ear. “You’re so beautiful, y/n.” Eddie says, his voice low. “I knew you were special when you walked into my classroom at the beginning of the semester – so perky, so eager to please.” 

You nod against the desk, feeling the muscles in your shoulder begin to burn from Eddie holding your wrists behind your back. “I wanted to be a good student, Professor Munson. The best one you ever had.” 

You hear the sound of Eddie moving behind you, feel the softness of his skin as he presses himself against you, his throbbing cock getting closer to your cunt. With his hand, Eddie guides his tip against your entrance. “How do you want it?” 

Truthfully, you wanted it every and any way. “Hard, rough. I want you so bad, I’ve been thinking about this for so long, Professor Munson. Please, I just want to be fucked.” 

Eddie can’t help it anymore, the sound of you practically begging for him, the way your voice contorts into a whine. It’s the hottest sound he believes he’ll ever hear. He lines himself up with you, his tip grazing your cunt. You sigh loudly, the feeling of him teasing your throbbing cunt makes your legs shiver and become weak. 

Eddie takes a deep breath, feeling like he could come all over your bare ass, the sight of you bending forward across his desk just enough to do the trick. But he refrains. With one hand, he spreads your ass cheeks apart, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. Eddie’s heart beats against his chest, his fingers trembling with anticipation as he eases himself into you. Your slick cunt envelopes Eddie’s cock, tightening around him as he begins to thrust into you. His eyes roll back into his head, the feeling of you causing him to lose his breath. 

Your eyes squeeze shut, a whine escaping your lips. Your arms extend from behind your back out to the side, gripping onto the desk. “Oh fuck, Eddie.” You mumble, sighing as you speak. Your body goes from tense to slack, the feeling of Eddie rutting into you bringing you pure pleasure. “Keep going, don’t stop.” 

Eddie nods, though he knows you can’t see him. His body moves into you rhythmically, his cock driving entirely into you. Eddie watches for a moment, the way his cock moves into you slowly, your cunt swallowing him whole, and how when he pulls back, his cock is drenched in your arousal. He can’t help but moan in disbelief. 

As Eddie takes you from behind, his motions are slow and even, though your body begins to crave more as the seconds pass. You feel Eddie’s long fingers drip your hip bones; his fingernails blunt against your skin. Needing the feeling of Eddie moving through you at a faster pace, you begin to roll your hips against him, essentially using his cock to fuck yourself. Eddie’s eyes widen, his top teeth sinking into his bottom lip, as he watches you move against him. “Such a good girl, y/n.” Eddie says, leaning over to brush your hair that has gathered in front of your face. He watches as your face softens; your lips parting as little breaths escape your mouth. “Yes, Professor Munson,” you mumble, your cheeks flushing with a soft pink. 

Your back arches, your bottom lifting higher into the air. You squirm underneath Eddie’s grip, his stance holding you in place as he takes over thrusting into you. Eddie feels his knees becoming weak, the sensation of his core tightening in his lower abdomen causing him to flinch. Eddie would love nothing to more than to come into you, thick ropes of his cum filling your cunt, giving him the opportunity to watch it drip out of you. He chooses to refrain, knowing that getting a student pregnant would be worse than fucking a student. As Eddie fantasizes about all the places he wants to come on you, he senses your legs tremble underneath him, your arms extending reaching out across the table, gripping the edge. “Yes,” your voice coos. “Right there.” You clench around Eddie’s cock, your core burning as if you’ve touched the sun, legs trembling as you reach a peak, an intense wave bringing your orgasm through your body, straight down to your toes. 

Eddie watches mystified, the way your body shudders underneath his touch, your eyes fluttering closed, soft sighs and whines echoing across the empty classroom. Just you and him. Eddie is sure your orgasming, all because of his touch, is the most beautiful sight, pretty enough to be a historical painting, hung in the Louvre. 

After a moment, your body relaxes again, becoming limp as sweat collects across your body and in your hairline. Eddie pulls himself out of you, reaching to grab your forearm. With his strength, he pulls you across the desk, bringing you to your knees in front of him. For the first time in several moments, and he gets a look at your weathered face. Your lips are red and puckered, dried spit across your cheek. Your eyes are glassy, red rimming your eyes, black mascara smudged under your eyes. Your cheeks are flushed, pieces of your hair clinging to your face. You look tired, exhausted, yet you’re still so eager to please, your hands beginning to move towards Eddie’s cock that rests at your eye level. You lick your lips, missing the flavor of him inside your mouth. 

Eddie lets his fingers intertwine in your hair again, bringing you underneath his cock. You crouch down, looking up at Eddie through your eyelashes. You watch, arousal still collecting in your cunt, as Eddie strokes himself above you, his eyes beginning to flutter shut. “Come for me, Professor Munson. Let me find out how you taste.” 

Eddie’s eyes open, his eyes finding yours. Just then, ropes of cum dribble out of the tip of his cock, splashing onto your cheeks, across your nose. You lean up, resting your tongue just underneath his tip. In a slow flow, Eddie’s come dribbles onto your tongue, the sweet, yet salty, flavor causing your tastebuds to flair. You sigh, satisfaction playing across your face as you swallow Eddie’s load, more of his semen splattering your face as you do so. 

Once Eddie is finished, he’s out of breath, sweat causing dark spots across his ‘Metallica’ t-shirt. Eddie pulls his boxers and jeans up, glancing at you as he rights himself, zipping his fly and re-buckling his belt. You're slower to put your clothes on, liking the way it feels to have Eddie’s gaze on your naked body, his eyes taking in every curve of yours.  

Once you put your clothes back on, bending over to pick up your zip up hoodie and beginning to put your arms in the sleeve, Eddie coughs, standing awkwardly off to the side. “This can never happen again, y/n. This was a lapse in my judgment.” 

You pout, tossing him a glance. You bend over once more, picking your backpack up by one of the straps. “Professor Munson, please” you say, shaking your head. You run a hand through your hair, attempting to make it look as if you just didn’t get railed, by your professor, in a classroom. “We both know this is going to happen again, and again. Should I come to office hours next week?” 

Eddie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. Eddie knows it’s wrong to have relations with a student, likely to get him fired if anyone were to ever find out. But you were so enticing, irresistible. For a moment, Eddie wonders how many people you’ve been with. Where did you learn to be so appealing, to move your hips in such a way, pouting your lips and batting your lashes to draw in any man you please? Regardless, Eddie wants to know more about you, learn what else you want to do with him. “Yes, come to my office hours next week.” 

[magic-shop-stories]

BTS as fathers pt.2 - YOONGI

other members JIN

pt.2 - YOONGI

Yoongi’s parenting style would be quiet piano melodies at 2 AM, handwritten notes tucked into lunchboxes, and a love so steady it feels like a heartbeat. He’s the dad who says little but sees everything.

💖 Emotional Side & Feelings

quietly devoted

actions > grand gestures

late-night tea talks

fixes broken toys/stuff without asking

introspective journaling

fears of emotional distance

love language: quality time & acts of service

all-night school project help

concert drives

soft at heart = tearing up at milestones, hidden behind a grumpy mask

Yoongi would express his deep love through subtle, consistent actions. He may appear reserved, yet every late-night conversation and gentle fix is a testament to his devotion. Though he worries about repeating his father’s emotional distance, he'd work hard to be fully present for his kids, even if it means muttering “Allergies” while wiping a stray tear at a piano recital.

👨‍👧‍👦 What He Does With His Kids

Music lessons: Home studio piano basics

“Finger placement matters. No, not like that...here.”

Quiet adventures: Indie bookstores, vinyl shops, late-night drives with lo-fi beats

Cooking: Simple meals like kimchi jjigae with extra tofu

“Eat. It’ll make you taller.”

EXTRA:

Vinyl Listening & Music Appreciation Nights: He has a deep love for analog music and storytelling through sound. On weekend nights, he'd sit in the studio or living room, with his kids dims the lights, and plays vinyl records, explaining what makes each song special

“Listen to this bassline—pure genius.”

sometimes, they take turns picking albums, and he lets them explain why they love certain songs.

he'd teach them how to handle vinyl properly

“No fingerprints. Treat it with respect.”

occasionally, he'd play them unreleased songs or rough demos, letting them hear his creative process

becomes a bonding ritual = music as a shared language between them

From teaching piano in his intimate studio to taking quiet midnight drives, Yoongi’s time with his kids would be filled with understated moments that nurture creativity and resilience. Whether whipping up a simple meal or listeninh to music together, every moment would be carefully crafted to make his children feel seen and supported.

📚 What He Teaches Them

Resilience

“Life’s not fair. But you’re tougher than you think.”

Creativity

“There’s no wrong way to create.”

Financial sense

“Save your allowance. That Dior hoodie isn’t worth it.” (Though earned, rewards follow)

Self-advocacy

“Speak up. Even if your voice shakes.”

Yoongi’s lessons would be straightforward and heartfelt. He'd emphasize bouncing back from setbacks, finding beauty in creative expression, and developing financial wisdom, often blending tough love with gentle encouragement to help his children forge their own paths.

💎 His Beliefs & Values

Mental health matters: open about anxiety

Work hard, rest harder: mandatory “lazy Sundays”

Privacy is sacred

shields from media, no paparazzi

With a balanced perspective shaped by his own challenges, Yoongi would instill values of self-care and privacy. He believes that mental health is as important as any achievement and ensures that his family has a sanctuary away from the public eye.

🚫 What He’s Strict About

Respect

“You can disagree without being cruel.” - then sits them in the studio to write down the sharpest punchlines together

Honesty

“Disappointing me is worse than making a mistake.”

Screen time: Limits social media; promotes creative hobbies

Alcohol: you might think he'd be chill about it but he'd be strict about underage drinking, but also teaches responsible choices when older

Firm and fair, Yoongi sets clear boundaries. He demands respect and honesty in every interaction and enforces sensible limits on screen time. Notably, he is resolute about alcohol—prohibiting it for underage kids while gradually educating them on responsibility as they grow.

🤒 Handling Tough Situations

When sick: methodical care (thermometer, homemade ginger tea, Studio Ghibli DVDs)

“Rest. I’ll handle the rest.”

Misbehavior: calm discussion

“Let’s talk about why you did that.”

logical consequences (e.g. volunteering if careless with a pet)

Heartbreak: shares personal tales of teenage angst over hot chocolate

“First love’s like a song—beautiful, but not always meant to last.”

Whether it’s a fever or a broken heart, Yoongi would handle crises with a steady, thoughtful approach. He'd create a healing environment, be it with a carefully measured dose of ginger tea or a quiet chat that puts life’s disappointments into perspective.

🎁 Typical Gifts

Vinyl records: rare pressings

(e.g., signed vinyl for 16th birthday)

“Don’t scratch it.”

Music gear: vintage guitar or MIDI controller

“Make something honest.”

Luxury staples: subtle Valentino accessories

“Take care of yourself. It’s not vanity, it’s self-respect.”

Every gift from Yoongi meticulously chosen to reflect his children’s passions and his own refined taste. From rare vinyl to quality music instruments and understated luxury items, his presents would be both meaningful and practical.

👧👦 Parenting Differences: Daughter and Son

For His Daughter:

fiercely protective yet promotes independence

“You don’t need anyone’s permission to take up space.”

admires her boldness

secretly preserves her protest art

encourages pursuit of STEM or music, whatever she loves

For His Son:

focuses on emotional intelligence

“Crying doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.”

bonds over basketball games (even if Yoongi is hopeless against his own son - YES! - believe me, he is good but his son would be better)

teaches practical skills: cooking, cleaning, money management

Yoongi would tailor his approach with care: nurturing his daughter’s independence and creative spirit while guiding his son to embrace vulnerability and practical life skills. His method would be to celebrate each child’s uniqueness while providing a consistent foundation of love and discipline.

💬 Typical Things He Says

“Think before you act. But don’t overthink.” “You’re allowed to be angry. Just don’t let it control you.” “If you’re going to fail, fail forward.” “Want a snack? I’ve got ...”

🌟 Family Rituals

Midnight snack sessions: 1 AM ramyeon under soft kitchen lights, life talks

Studio Saturdays: Home studio hangouts with doodles and songwriting

Annual hiking trips: Nature detoxes

“Fresh air fixes everything.”

Family time with Yoongi defined by unique rituals that blend creativity and calm. From spontaneous late-night snacks to relaxed studio sessions and refreshing hikes, these traditions cement the deep bonds they share.

🌍 Balancing Fame & Family

compartmentalizes work and home, home is sacred

occasional low-key studio sessions

no exploitation of their image

advocates for mental health resources for teens, inspired by his kids

Yoongi would masterfully separate his demanding career from his cherished family life. He'd ensure that his children are shielded from the limelight while still sharing bits of his world in a controlled, nurturing way.

💭 His Worries & Efforts

fears of emotional distance

schedules weekly “How’s your heart?” check-ins

overthinks birthday gifts to ensure they feel truly seen

quietly donates to youth art programs, promoting a kinder, less judgmental world

Haunted by the possibility of inheriting his father’s detachment, Yoongi would constantly strive to connect more deeply with his children. His careful efforts, both big and small, reveal a dad who is always learning, always loving, and always trying to create a better world for his kids.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Okay so here, I think, is why I think Red, White and Royal Blue succeeds spectacularly as a romcom, and actually to me is a better-than-average take on the genre.

First, the leads have absolutely scorching chemistry. They are incredibly believable as two men absolutely infatuated with each other. They each kiss like drowning men shown water, right down to how each grabs at the other, at hair or back or neck and face.

They each have developed their character having a specific characteristic even when flirting or kissing. Henry grabs Alex's hair, for example, every single time, in a way that makes it clear he spends serious time thinking about that hair.

Fair enough, Henry.

They also do something even goddamn better.

They are friends. They are believable as two people who could actually get along long enough to fall in love.

They are allowed to become FRIENDS.

They are given time to get to know each other before they get physical. You can feel their interest in each other growing. And, to my opinion, you can tell that Henry is feeling Alex out through texts to see if the interest might be reciprocated even though he thinks it can't possibly be.

One thing that kills me about romcoms is how the leads will have witty "sexy" banter but don't seem to actually like each other. They are enemies who fall into bed but aren't really believable as lovers.

Henry and Alex are believable, because they... Well. They're impossibly silly even when tearing at each other's clothes. They have awkward moments.

They laugh.

Alex laughs in bed. He holds Henry in a way that is romantic, openly so. Henry is overcoming the conditioned hesitation and avoidance he has, his smiles and warmth and laughter come with rare vulnerability - Alex is a man who throws himself head first into life and has no such compunctions in the moment. He laughs because this is awesome and Jesus Christ, Prince Henry is too hot to be real.

They like each other, they stumble, they laugh.

But also, another reason this works so well?

The sex scene isn't scorching.

Watching the sex scene felt realistically intimate. It felt like I had walked in one real people and needed to leave. It was intense in a way that felt like something I maybe wasn't meant to see.

It was filmed so well. So much romanticism and deeply felt adoration in a simple grasping of a hand, the look in soft eyes, a hand pressed against a back. The edge of a knee just in frame. Looking up and looking down.

It felt like we walked into their room during and saw them both laid utterly bare.

Henry's look of vulnerability and nerves and pleasure, Alex looking slowly over his face to take it all in. Moving slowly, then, when everything they do before this is hurried or hidden.

It works as a romcom because you believe 100% these two men could get to like each other, fall in love, and stay that way.

You believe Henry's very real terror of rejection from the public because he already knows his family, beyond his sister, will reject him. You believe that Alex is a headstrong idealist who is sure that you can bulldoze through any wall too tall to climb.

And you believe that between the two of them, they can find a way around the wall entirely.

This movie is a master class on how a movie can get you to suspend so much disbelief if the leads sell their characters. The importance of believable chemistry.

And also... Isn't it nice to see a queer love story in a world that is, in some ways, just a few shades better than our own?

P.S. you cannot tell me Stephen Fry did not chew the goddamn scenery in circles all around everyone during his single scene. That man was having a ball.

[queenstarlight2]

A terrible day in heaven

Yandere Elrond and Thranduil (816 words) summery: Elrond and Thranduil agree to share you credits to this post and creator part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

It was a calm and peaceful day in Rivendell, people were drinking tea in the garden, elves were making idle conversation, and the twins were causing trouble. It was a perfectly normal day in Rivendell but for Thranduil and Elrond this day was made for agreement, for an advantage, for a shared desire. 

The air in Elrond's private chambers felt thick with tension as Thranduil and Elrond sat on plush couches, gazing into the fire that crackled in the fireplace. The soft light of the flames danced over their faces, casting fleeting shadows on the walls.

Thranduil turned to Elrond and spoke, "She belongs to us, does she not?"

Elrond met Thranduil's gaze, his eyes dark and intense. "Yes, she does. But we must be careful. She is breakable and fragile. We must not scare her away."

Thranduil nodded, his brow furrowed with concern. "I know. We cannot rush this, or we risk losing her forever."

But despite his words, the yearning in his eyes betrayed his impatience.

Elrond leaned back against the cushions and ran his hand through his hair, his voice tight with frustration. "But how long can we wait? I feel my desire growing stronger every moment we don't have her in our arms."

Thranduil's eyes darkened, the possessive fire within him burning brighter at Elrond's words. "I feel the same. The thought of her being with someone else, of her heart being claimed by another..."

Thranduil and Elrond both grew quiet as they thought about the object of their desire, the fire in the fireplace casting an almost romantic glow over the room.

Thranduil spoke quietly changing the subject  "She is breathtaking. Her beauty is unlike anything I have ever seen in any human. And by elven standards, she would be considered very desirable."

Elrond nodded in agreement, his eyes distant as he recalled her face in his mind. "Yes, she is unlike any other human. There is a grace about her that I cannot describe. And her beauty... it is simply captivating. I find myself drawn to her in a way that I never have been before."

Elrond nodded in agreement, his own need for the girl growing stronger by the day. "Yes, she is. We cannot allow anyone else to have her. We have to make sure she knows that she is meant to be with us."

Elrond's hand ran through his hair again, a nervous habit he had developed in the days since they had first seen the girl. "But how do we convince her? She's young and naïve. What if she doesn’t understand our desires?"

Thranduil nodded agreeing he soon spoke "That is a valid concern. We don't want her to feel manipulated. But we also can't just go up to her and confess our feelings."

Elrond nodded and responded "No, that would likely scare her off. We need to take things slowly. Ease her into the idea of being with both of us."

Thranduil and Elrond sat in silence for a moment, both lost in their thoughts before Thranduil spoke up. "We must figure out how this is going to work."

Elrond nodded, his expression serious. "Yes, we need to discuss the terms of our agreement. How we will share her, and what our expectations are."

Thranduil stood up and began pacing the room, his mind racing as he thought about how to approach the situation. Thranduil spoke, "We should make sure she understands that we both care for her and that we will both be an important part of her life.”

Elrond responds to him "Yes, I agree. We should also make sure that she knows that neither of us will try to dominate her or make her choose between us. We both have a claim on her, and she will have a claim on us as well."

Thranduil stopped and faced Elrond, his expression intense. "We must be careful to avoid jealousy between us. We should always be open and communicate clearly with each other about our feelings."

Elrond nodded again, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Yes, I agree. But it won't be easy. We are both already possessive of her. The thought of her being with you, when I want her, is already difficult to bear."

Both men were silent for a moment, the weight of their situation heavy in the air. Thranduil finally spoke up, his voice more solemn than before "I think we have covered everything for now. We have agreed to share her and to be careful not to let our jealousy and possessiveness get the best of us. Is there anything else we should discuss?"

Elrond shook his head, his expression thoughtful. "No, I don't think so. We just need to make sure we keep our word and treat her with the love and care she deserves."

With a nod of agreement, the two men rose from their seats and walked to the door.

Thranduil looked at Elrond his voice quiet "Then I think we are done for now. We will talk again soon?" Elrond nodded "Yes, soon."

They left the room, each lost in their thoughts as they both quietly contemplated their plan to share the girl they had both fallen for.

( IM BACKKKKKKKKKKKKKK)

[itneverendshere]

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - three

WARNINGS: smut!; guns; mentions of human trafficking

word count: 7.9k.

Growing up, you had to develop a thick skin.

With two deadbeat parents, it wasn't a choice—it was a necessity.

Unlike JJ, you never blamed your mother for leaving, she was a victim too, and despite your nightly wishes and prayers that she had taken you with her, you found solace in knowing that at least one of you had escaped the torment of the Maybank household.

You learned early on to rely only on yourself. While you had your younger brother, you never placed that burden on his shoulders.

As the older sister, it was your responsibility to take the blame for everything and to shield him from Luke's drunken or drug-fueled rages. You never resented JJ for it, you couldn’t—neither of you asked to be born into that situation.

You tried to take each day slowly, avoiding the house and staying at John B's as much as possible, but it was easier said than done. You felt like a burden to your friends, especially since you were the one who had to be the adult in the group. Kie, Pope, John B…weren’t supposed to take care of you. And yet, they did, they took you in, shared their homes, and gave you the semblance of family you craved but never had.

It was a weird balance, living with a foot in both worlds: the chaotic storm of the Maybank household and the calm haven of your friends' places.

At John B's, despite its share of brokenness, it provided a refuge where you could breathe without the fear of violence. You often found yourself on the porch, watching the sunset over the marsh, your mind wandering to dreams of freedom. Those moments were precious, tiny pockets of peace in your life.

But no matter how much you tried to distance yourself from the fucking chaos, it was always there, lurking in the background.

Luke Maybank’s shadow was long and dark, and it followed you everywhere.

Each time your phone buzzed with a message from JJ, your heart would race, fearing the worst. It was a responsibility you bore proudly, protecting your brother from a world that seemed determined to break you both.

It felt natural to ease into being the provider, to think, to act, to protect. It became second nature, an ingrained part of your identity forged from necessity. While others your age worried about stupid parties, hook ups, drinking, you were strategizing the best ways to keep your brother safe, figuring out how to stretch what little money you had, and ensuring that there was always something for JJ to eat, even if it meant you went without. 

You learned how to calm Luke down when he was on the brink of a violent outburst, and how to read the signs of an impending beating in his eyes. You figured out which neighbors might turn a blind eye to your requests for help, and which ones might call social services if they saw too much. 

There were moments, rare and fleeting when you allowed yourself to dream too. You imagined a future where you and JJ were free from the chains of your upbringing. But dreams were a luxury you could rarely afford.

So, when Rafe told you—no, demanded—that you stayed in the deadbeat motel room while he met up with his contacts, you lost it. 

He'd gotten the text earlier in the morning and decided he was smart enough to lure you out of this. Except he wasn't.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not going.”

You didn’t take it lightly to people making choices for you.

Your mouth opened in indignant shock, "You think you can just order me around? I'm not staying here while you go off and do God knows what.”

You knew he wasn’t used to people standing up to him.

"It's for your own good," his tone was condescending, like you were a child, “You don't understand the kind of people I'm dealing with. It's dangerous."

"Dangerous?" You nearly smacked him across the head. "You think I don’t know what danger is? Look around!"

Rafe opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off, stepping closer and jabbing a finger into his chest. You’d done a lot of that recently.

"It’s my life on the line too. I’m not going to sit here and wait for you to come back like some obedient little bitch.”

His face practically matched the color of the deep red curtains in your room, “You’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be, Maybank.”

"No, you are," you fired back. "I’m going with you.”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

He took a step away from you, fingers pointed at his temples, “What part of fucking dangerous do you not get?”

“If it’s dangerous for me, it’s dangerous for you.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tensing visibly. His gaze bore into yours, but you’d be damned if you looked away first.

“This isn’t a game,” He was clearly growing frustrated with your stubbornness, “You have no idea what these people are capable of.”

“Maybe not,” You conceded, “But I’m not staying behind and you’re not going alone.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand along his grown-out hair. 

“They chew up people like you.”

 “I’ve been chewed up by worse.”

He knew that. He saw the determination in you, that unyielding grit that drove him up the fucking walls, he understood that he wasn’t going to win the fight. Unless he played dirty. 

“You’re too stubborn, y’know that, right?”

You chose to ignore him, grabbing the simple sweater he’d gotten for you the day before at a local market, “When do we leave?”

He almost sprinted to the door, “Now.”

You moved to follow him as he stepped outside into the hallway, but before you could follow, he grabbed your arm.

"Wait."

You almost pulled away, irritated enough. "What now?"

His grip tightened, "This might hurt.”

"What?" You tried to twist free, glaring at him.

"Change of plans."

Before you could react, he pushed you back inside the room, slamming the door shut. He didn’t do it hard enough to make you fall, but the treason came so suddenly that you nearly lost your balance as you heard the lock click, the sound echoing in the small space. 

"Rafe! You piece of shit!” You pounded on the door, “Let me out! You can't do this!"

His voice was muffled but firm from the other side. "Stay here.”

"You motherfucker!" You screamed, kicking the door but there was no clipped answer from the other side, only the echo of your own frantic breathing.

He was gone, the stupid bastard.

You collapsed against the door, locked like some helpless child.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to cry over something so stupid. You were a Maybank, damn it, and Maybanks didn’t back down from a fight, even when their choices were taken from them.

Any other day, you’d have jumped out the damn window without a second thought—done it plenty of times back home. But this was different. Your room was too high up. Sure, you could probably get away with a few scrapes, maybe a busted finger, but you couldn’t afford to be vulnerable. If shit hit the fan, you needed to be ready to run, two working legs were non-negotiable.

Your eyes flicked around the room, scanning for an out. Then they landed on the bed—sturdy frame, solid wood.

That’s it.

You moved fast, yanking the sheets off the mattress, fingers working on autopilot as you twisted and knotted them together. A makeshift rope. And people said Pogues weren’t fucking smart.

It wasn’t pretty, but it would do. You secured one end to the bed frame, giving it a few hard tugs to make sure it’d hold. Once satisfied, you tossed the other end out the window, watching as it unraveled down the side of the building.

No hesitation.

You grabbed hold and swung a leg over the sill, gripping tight as you started lowering yourself down. Not your first time, not your worst idea. Slow—one slip and you’d be eating pavement.

When your feet finally hit solid ground, you exhaled, only now realizing you’d been holding your breath.

Right. Focus.

Rafe mentioned something last night—meeting, bar, bartender named Miguel. Some dingy spot by the marina.

You rushed back inside the motel, ignoring the puzzled look from the front desk guy as you barked out questions about the bar. He hesitated, taken aback by your urgency, the way you blurted out the words, but you didn’t have time for explanations or politeness.

"Just tell me where it is," you pleaded, “It’s important.”

His hesitation grated on your nerves, but finally, he scrawled an address onto a scrap of paper and shoved it into your hand.

“It’s not far,” he muttered, eyeing you warily. “But be careful. That place ain’t safe for a lady on her own.”

So, nothing new.

Any place overrun with men—or worse, drunk men—was a trap in itself. But instead of saying that, you gave a curt nod and bolted out the door. You had bigger problems.

You gripped the paper as you tore through the streets, dodging bodies, moving fast. And then—before you could process what the hell was happening—a hand clamped down on your arm, fingers digging deep into your skin. You barely had time to react before you were yanked off-course, dragged straight into the dark alley you’d purposely avoided.

The situation felt all too familiar.

Your heart leaped into your throat, adrenaline pumping in and out of your veins. Instinctively, you struggled against the unknown grip, kicking and clawing in a desperate attempt to break free.

"Let go of me!" you shouted, your voice echoing off the narrow walls of the alley, “I got nothing on me, let me go you stupid fuck!”

You threw an elbow back hard, landing it somewhere solid. Your captor let out a grunt, grip slipping long enough for you to wrench yourself free. You spun, ready to swing—ready to take his teeth out—

"Rafe?!"

“What the fuck is wrong with you!”

"What the fuck is wrong with you, you mean?" You exploded, chest heaving.

“Me?” Rafe barked, all up in your personal space, “What the fuck is wrong with you? You jumped out a fucking window?!”

He knew you wouldn’t back down so easily, that's why he waited around the corner, hoping you were smart enough to keep still even though he knew you would never.

You blinked, the shock of seeing him in front of you momentarily overriding your anger. "You—you locked me in there!"

"Yeah, because you wouldn't listen!" he shot back, his frustration evident in his tone, “Fuck—Jesus fucking Christ.” He was shaking his head wildly, his hands balled into fists as he cursed away like a mantra. 

"I'm not staying behind while you go off risking your life!"

"And I told you, it's too dangerous for you!" Rafe's voice rose with each word, his hands balling into fists at his sides. His pacing intensified, “What the hell were you thinking? What were you gonna do? Walk in and what, huh? You don't even have a gun on you!"

“So? Give me yours!”

Rafe’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Give you, my gun?! Did you hit your fucking head against the concrete?

“I’ll hit your head against the concrete if I have to.”

His left eye twitched. Oh, you had him now. “I have half a mind to bend you over my fucking knee, don’t push me.”

You ignored him. “So you’d rather I go in there unarmed? I can do it.”

“Clearly. Look at you,” Rafe’s voice was mocking, “You think I liked locking you in that room?”

“You didn't give me a choice! I wasn't going to sit around and wait for you."

Rafe sighed, palms pressing into his eyes “I’m trying to protect you, God fucking damn it. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Save it,” You hissed out, pressing a hand to your chest. “How am I supposed to trust you when you pull this—this shit!”

Rafe reached into the waistband of his trousers, his movements slow, and you nearly wheezed out a cough as he pulled out his gun, lifting his shirt in the process.

What the fuck.

He took your hand and dropped it into your palm. “Show me.”

“Huh?”

He nodded towards your hand. “Show me you know how to handle it.”

The sudden changes in his attitude always left you speechless.

You hesitated, staring at the weapon in your hand, because despite the place you grew up in, you never held a gun before, let alone fired one. With trembling fingers, you checked the safety and made sure the gun was loaded, trying to mimic what you had seen in movies.

Rafe watched silently for once, assessing.

You lifted your gaze to meet his.

“Alrigh'. Now, point it at me.”

“What?!”

“I said point it at me,” He repeated nonchalantly, “C’mon.”

"Are you crazy?"

Rafe only smirked, tilting his head like you’d just asked if the sky was blue. "What’s the matter? You wanted a gun. Now use it."

You gritted your teeth. Oh, he was enjoying this. 

This was crazy.

With shaky hands, you raised the gun, aiming it high enough to have him flinch. He didn’t, of course. 

“Good,” Rafe nodded in approval. “Now, pull the trigger.”

“What the hell?! Rafe?!”

“Trust me, Maybank, just once.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Pull the trigger. He wasn’t fucking serious, was he? You couldn’t actually shoot him, could you? Maybe months ago you would’ve done it without a second guess, but now?

“I’m not pulling the trigger.”

“Just do it. You’re not going to hurt me, okay?”

With a deep breath, you squeezed the trigger, half expecting the gun to recoil in your hand. But nothing happened.

You had forgotten to chamber a round, but he knew that already.

Rafe’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, as if the entire situation was normal, “You forgot to chamber a round.”

"God, you are so fucking—” You huffed out a breath, flipping the safety back on with a sharp click before shoving the gun into his chest. He caught it easily, but his smirk widened like you’d just done exactly what he wanted.

“What?” he drawled. “Didn’t feel so powerful anymore?"

You watched him carefully, his bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss him.

“Try again.”

This time, when you reached for the gun, your fingers barely brushed against the cool metal before he yanked it back, holding it just out of reach.

“Oh, now you want it?” Rafe taunted.

You narrowed your eyes. “Give me the gun.”

He spun it lazily between his fingers, watching you like lion toying with its prey. “Why? So you can pretend you know what the fuck you’re doing?"

Your jaw clenched. “Maybe so I can shoot you.”

"You wouldn’t.”

You hated how certain he sounded.

This time, when he handed it back to you with a conceited smile, you aimed the gun at the wall and pulled the trigger, feeling the recoil jolt along your body as the bullet fired. The sound echoed off the walls of the alley, causing your heart to race even faster.

“Atta girl.”

“I’m still pissed."

“I know,” Rafe conceded as he reached up to brush your hair from your eye, fingers grazing the side of your neck.  “I panicked, okay?”

You studied him for a moment, taking in the tired lines around his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. He’d done so much for you over the past weeks, it shook you to the core. The countless times he had gone above and beyond, selflessly putting your needs before his own. Perhaps…you could let it go, just this once.

“Okay.”

"Let's go.”

“Wait, right now?”

"Before you get another bright idea and try to jump off a fucking roof next time."

You should punch him in the mouth.

"Next time, I’ll make sure to aim for your fucking head.”

Rafe shook his head as he holstered the gun back where it belonged.

“You’d miss. Now, c'mon, we're late."

✩.⋆⁺｡𖦹 ˚₊ ๋⭒★✩.⋆⁺｡𖦹 ˚₊ ๋⭒★✩.⋆⁺｡𖦹 ˚₊ ๋⭒★✩.⋆⁺｡𖦹 ˚₊ ๋⭒★✩.⋆⁺｡𖦹 ˚₊

Hours later, you collapsed onto the bed, wondering what the hell you’d gotten yourself into, again. The events of the meeting kept replaying in your mind like a broken record.

You’d never met such a group of people before, and you didn’t want to, ever again.

"Human traffickers," you muttered, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. "I can't believe we just met with human traffickers."

Rafe nodded solemnly, "Yeah.”

"I don't trust them. What if... What if they decide to snatch us up and... Oh my god, what if this is all just a ploy..."

“We’re in this together, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You wanted to believe him, but your brows were already furrowed, your mind racing with questions. “How do you know these people?”

He hesitated, “Barry. It’s... a long story. But right now, what’s important is that we got a way out, yeah?”

You nodded slowly, realizing that asking him for more information wouldn’t get you anywhere. There were more important things to worry about.  You didn’t know what was worse anymore, running from Ward Cameron, finding yourself at the mercy of human traffickers, or potentially developing feelings for someone who’d ruined so many lives. 

God, if your brother saw you now…you’d be the greatest disappointment of his life.

The mere idea consumed you entirely. The things you’d done.

You'd let Rafe into your bloodstream and you hated yourself for it.

Everything was spiraling out of your control, and you hated it. What would you even tell him? You didn’t even know if JJ made it to shore, but something told you that he did. He always did. And that meant that sooner or later you’d see him, and you’d have to watch him gradually despise you. 

And then there was Rafe.

The very thought of him made you want to stop breathing altogether.

How could you even begin to reconcile the feelings you harbored for someone who had brought so much pain and destruction into your life? It felt like a betrayal to even consider half of it.

“You good, Maybank?”

You dragged your gaze away from the swirling fan on the ceiling to meet Rafe's concerned stare. He was studying you intently.

You shifted on the bed, turning to face him fully. "I don’t know,” you muttered, forcing a weak smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, “You?”

He reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. It always surprised you, how surprisingly light his touch felt compared to before.

“I don’t know.”

He had every reason to abandon you, to wash his hands clean of the entire situation, but he hadn’t.

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat.

It was hard to believe that someone like him could be capable of such tenderness, vulnerability. But there he was. “They’re about you.”

"Me?" you repeated quietly, confused, you knew speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment between you two.

Rafe nodded, scanning your face for any sign of understanding.

"Yeah. You."

Your brows pulled together, “What is?”

He visibly gulped, pressing his lips together, blinking several times before releasing a held breath “The nightmares.”

Oh.

You almost stopped breathing, "What about them?" 

He moved uncomfortably, “They used to be just about my mom. Then dad. Now, it’s—uh, it’s just you. Ever since that night, it’s just you. Dying, because of—yeah.”

You hadn’t realized the extent of the impact that night, when you got shot, had on him, on both of you. It was a lot to process, you hadn't had the time to figure everything out yet.

His fingers brushed over the ugly scar on your arm, and memories flooded your mind. The gunshots, the crippling fear you felt when they got to you, how Rafe reacted, how he touched you. 

“You should’ve told me before.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

For a moment, you let yourself lean into his touch, allowing the warmth of his hand to chase away the ghosts that haunted you both most night.

"Does it still hurt?" He asked, leaning in so his nose brushed against yours; it was warm against your skin. 

You shook your head, "Not anymore."

His fingers continued their path up, eventually reaching your cheek as he cupped it tenderly, carefully, as if he’d break you if he rushed it. 

You closed your eyes, savoring the closeness between you. And then, almost hesitantly, you felt him lean in, his mouth brushing against yours in a delicate caress. You hardly had to move to kiss him, only tilting your chin up.

It was tender, different from the ones you had before, just so quiet that it made you want to burst into tears, torn between giving yourself to him or run away and never look back.

You kissed him too, tentatively once his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer. In that moment, little else mattered, not the dangers lurking in the shadows, not his past sins, not the uncertain future or your self hatred.

All that existed was that overwhelming pull you felt for him. But as the kiss deepened, a voice of reason, which weirdly sounded a lot like your younger brother, scolded you in the back of your mind, reminding you of the consequences of your actions.

You pulled away instantly, burned by the same, breathless and dizzy, your heart pounding in your chest.

“We shouldn’t…”

Rafe only stared, before he nodded, understanding dawning in him.

"Get some rest.”

You nodded in agreement, grateful for the distraction. With a guilty sigh, you lifted yourself off the bed, making your way to the bathroom to change into some booty shorts and a simple tee.

Once you emerged from the bathroom, Rafe was already settled on the bed, only in his boxers, his attention fixed on some point on the wall. You hesitated before joining him, knowing sleeping next to him again wasn't a good idea, the distance and closeness between you feeling suffocating. 

You wanted to say something to break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat, so instead, you settled for a nod, and a quiet “Goodnight.” 

You slipped under the covers, the warmth of the blankets cocooning you in a false sense of security. 

“Night, pretty Maybank.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping it would somehow trick your brain into shutting up. But no—your thoughts kept spinning, bouncing around, a personal playlist stuck on shuffle. Sleep was simply out of reach, slipping away the second you get close. Every tiny noise—the creak of the floor, a car passing outside—made your heart jump, your body tense like you'd been waiting for something to happen. You move restlessly under the covers, but the new sheets felt all wrong, twisting around your legs, trying to trap you there.

You heard Rafe's voice beside you, breaking the silence.

“Can’t sleep if you keep moving.”

“Sorry.”

He reached out, his hand finding yours in the darkness, “What is it?”

“Can’t sleep.”

His hold tightened around yours, "I know, Maybank," he spoke in a ushed tone, "But you're safe here. Try to relax, okay?"

You squeezed your eyes shut, already feeling the upcoming headache, “I don’t know how to.”

It was quiet again for a minute and you feared you’d bored the man to sleep with your insecurities, but then he spoke again.

“Turn around.”

You opened your eyes, even though you could barely see him. Was he telling you to spoon him?

“What?”

Rafe's thumb gently brushed against the back of your hand in a soothing rhythm, “Turn round f’me, kay?”

With a sigh, you did as he asked, turning onto your side to face away from him. He moved closer, his body pulling against yours as he wrapped an arm around your waist, snuggling you against his chest.

His warmth enveloped you instantly as he pressed a light kiss to the back of your neck, his lips lingering against your skin. 

“There,” he whispered, breath tickling your ear. “Better?”

Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

These were dangerous waters.

If you couldn’t sleep before, you sure as hell weren’t about to do it now. Your traitorous brain was re-living that night, how he felt, how he touched you, how he fit right. 

An almost overwhelming, shameful feeling of arousal took over you, and with whatever courage or stupidity you had left from the day, you pressed yourself impossibly closer to him. His warmth seeped into your skin, your coiled muscles melting against him, feeling every ridge and turn of his body.

Your touch drew a low, guttural groan from Rafe, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed closer, his arousal unmistakable against your back. His breath fanned over your skin, the graze of his teeth on your shoulder sending a shiver curling down your entire body. Then came the flick of his tongue, soothing the sting, and you exhaled a breathy sigh just as his lips parted to bite down again—harder this time.

You weren’t stopping him.

His arm tightened around you as you traced the contours of his fingers, mapping out the familiar territory.

You exhaled hard, trying to get your heart to stop hammering, but then he shifted behind you, pressing in closer, and—fuck. Yeah, he knew exactly what he was doing. His hand slid lower, fingertips skimming under the hem of your shirt, trailing across your stomach.

With a boldness that surprised even yourself, you moved your hips, grinding back against him, seeking the friction that would ease the mess in your head. You just needed to forget for a while.

His mouth was at your ear now, “Relax,” he murmured, fingers dipping just a little lower, enough to make you tense in anticipation. “I’m right here.”

That was the problem.

You didn’t think—you just moved, testing him the way he was testing you. His breath stuttered out, and then his hands were everywhere—palming over your hip, skimming up your ribs, gripping like he wanted to leave marks. His fingers finally found their way to the hem of your shorts, teasing the sensitive skin with feather-light touches.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging enough to pull a pleased hum from his throat. His lips parted against your neck, “Tell me to stop, please,” Words coming out a slurred mess.

You couldn’t.

Your hand trailed down, fingertips skimming over the bare skin of his thigh where his boxers had ridden up. The warmth of him, the way his muscles twitched under your touch—it was driving you insane. If you moved your hand just an inch higher, you’d—his thumb dragged over your nipple, the thin fabric of your shirt doing nothing to dull the sensation. 

You had to bite back a squeal. “I can’t.”

You still had your fingers buried in his hair, pulling like you wanted to hurt him, and Rafe just moaned into your skin, strained, he liked it.

An unrestrained, almost desperate plea escaped his mouth, "Are you sure?

This was so fucking wrong, but you wanted it, none of that mattered—not when you turned your head, lips grazing the edge of his cheek, and whispered, "Yes."

You gasped when Rafe raised his thigh, placing it between your own, his hands on your hips guiding you back and forth, grinding you down against his skin. You couldn’t remember a time you’d ever felt so out of control, so desperate for someone’s touch. The thin barrier of your shorts and panties felt like a small but significant obstruction to the numbness you needed to reach.

One of his hands slipped under the waistband of your panties, the other splaying across your stomach, holding you in place. His fingers found you slick and ready, a whimper vibrating across his chest at the discovery.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, his fingers starting a slow, torturous rhythm against your clit. You bucked against his hand, seeking more, needing more, your head already falling back against his broad shoulder, turning slightly to capture his lips. Once felt his tongue press against yours and you nearly came on the spot. He slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into him, “Can’t stop touching you.”

You struggled to form words as breathy moans escaped your mouth.

“Please don’t,” you rasped, your thoughts turning to mush as he dipped the tips of his fingers inside you, gathering your slick and when you found your voice again, it was a mere screech, “Rafe...”

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, finally pushing two thick fingers inside you, at an agonizing pace, “I’ve got you.”

Your jaw went slack as he curled his fingers, a gasp escaping when he found that spot that made you see stars, wondering how the fuck he remembered that. The heel of his hand pressed against your clit, pulling another moan from you, while his other hand pushed you back, continuing to grind you against his fingers.

His breath was hot against your neck, his voice a growl as he removed his fingers, making you whine in protest. He glided one between your folds, the wetness easing up the process, “You’re so fucking perfect,” He clicked his tongue, annoyed at himself for admitting it out loud. “Can’t get enough f'you.”

“Ra—You’re gonna make me come,” you gasped as his arm left your waist, sliding underneath your ribcage and resting on your chest, kneading your tits through the fabric of your shirt, “Fuck.”

“Yeah, baby, that’s the point,” he purred into your ear, two fingers sliding inside you again, so suddenly you threw your head back, thighs clenching together tightly as he pumped his fingers in and out. At this point, you were lightheaded, fucking yourself back onto him, grinding down as you chased your orgasm. 

“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, Rafe...”

His fingers quickened their pace, “Not stoppin',” he promised,“Want t'feel you dripping around my fingers.”

Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling with the intensity of your approaching climax. Rafe's touch was relentless, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over.

“Rafe—” you cried out, your voice breaking as your orgasm crashed over you, wave after wave of intense pleasure radiating from your pussy.

Your body convulsed, and you clung to him, nails digging into his arm as you rode out the ecstasy.

Rafe held you without a break, his fingers never slowing, drawing out every last tremor of your release. When you finally came down, breathless and spent, he withdrew his fingers, not giving you a break to breathe as he shuffled behind you, pulling his boxers down, just enough to release his aching cock, doing the same to you as he slid his length between your folds.

The sensation was…everything, his heaviness pressing against your sensitive, slick entrance, the heat of him making you shiver. You bit your lip, suppressing a scream as Rafe's hand gripped your hip, holding you steady.

“Shit shit”, you breathed out, barely able to form coherent thoughts. The anticipation coiled inside you again, your body already aching for him, “’M sensitive.”

“Shhhh,” he purred, his voice husky against your ear. “Just relax, pretty.”

He rocked his hips slowly, the head of his fat cock teasing your entrance, not pushing in but sliding between your folds, spreading your wetness over his length. 

Holy fuck, you’d gone to heaven.

Rafe's breath hitched, his grip on your hip tightening as he tried to control himself.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, “So perfect.”

“Oh my god,” you sighed, biting your lip when his tip bumped against your clit, “I need you to—Shit, just fuck me.”

With a slow, deliberate motion, he angled his hips and began to push inside you, inch by tantalizing inch. The stretch was exquisite, slowly filling you in a way that left you gasping, your body accommodating him with a shuddering breath.

“Jesus,” Rafe hissed, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as his cock twitched inside you. “So tight.”

Your fingers dug into the sheets, the thrill and the sensation of being filled to the hilt almost too much. You could feel every part of him, the way he throbbed inside you, the way his body fit perfectly against yours. You felt his breathing against your skin, coming out in uneven and ragged breaths.

He started a slow, steady rhythm, each thrust measured and deep, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in.

His other hand found your breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh through your shirt, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

You couldn’t hold back the mewls that escaped your lips, each movement driving you higher, the tension building again. Rafe’s breath was ragged against your ear, his lips brushing your skin in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses.

He gently bit your earlobe, withdrawing his hips until only the tip of him remained inside you, before slowly pushing back in with deliberate, languid movements. You reached back, tangling your fingers in his hair once again.

“Rafe... harder, please,” you begged, shame thrown out the window, “I need it harder.”

He moaned, the sound vibrating through his chest as he complied, his hips snapping against you with more force, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hand slid down from your chest to your clit, circling the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts.

You felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening, your body tensing as you teetered on the brink.

“Can’t belie—fuck. Can’t believe I get to have you again.”

You curved your back again, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor, your body craving the release that was so so close.

“I c-can’t hold on much longer,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a breathless whimper.

“Then let go,” Rafe growled, his fingers pressing harder against your clit. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you.”

You groaned, “I want to see you when I do.”

Before he could answer, you pulled away from him, making him groan, but you shut him up as you turned to face him, dragging your shorts and panties out of the way, not looking where you threw them as you quickly lifted your body and settled over his, hands pressed to his naked chest as you rubbed yourself against him. 

Rafe's hands gripped your hips firmly as you positioned yourself above him, “You tryn’ to kill me, pretty Maybank?”

You smirked, leaning down to press a quick peck against his lips, “Yeah.”

Without any warning, you lowered yourself onto him, both gasping at the sensation of being joined once again. He filled you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way, his tip touching your cervix.

Your movements were slow at first, savoring all of him, every sensation that rippled from end to end of your body. But soon, the slow burn grew into a raging inferno, and you found yourself moving faster, chasing that peak of pleasure one more time.

“Get this fucking thing off,” He growled, pulling at your shirt. You would’ve found it funny if you weren’t so desperate to feel him.

You sat up, quickly tugging the shirt over your head and tossing it aside. Rafe's eyes darkened with lust as he took in your bare chest, his hands immediately finding your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that made you gasp and arch into his touch.

You started to move again, lifting yourself up before sinking back down onto him, each movement sending waves of desire through both of you.

A filthy kiss followed, all spit and tongues tangling messily as if trying to devour each other whole.

The taste of him filled your mouth, cigarettes and toothpaste, his moans mingling with yours.

The kiss was a brutal assault, his teeth nipping at your lips, drawing blood, which only seemed to fuel the frenzied rhythm of your body. Rafe's grip on your hips tightened, guiding your movements, and encouraging you to take him deeper, pounding into you, abs flexing.

You leaned forward, your hands bracing against his sturdy chest, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper inside you. The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, your cries, and the rhythmic, filthy, slap of skin against skin.

“Fuck, this pussy can’t be real,” Rafe groaned, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race. “Ride me harder, baby. Wanna watch you.”

You increased your pace, the friction and fullness driving you closer to the edge with each thrust. His hands moved from your hips to your waist, holding you steady as you moved, his touch grounding you even as you felt like you were about to come apart at the seams. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing it in tight, precise circles that had you crying out his name.

“Oh god, Rafe, I’m s-so close,” you panted, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your release, wanting to savor every second of this moment.

“Come for me, pretty. Wanna to feel you drippin’ all over my cock.”

That was all it took.

With a loud moan, you came, your body convulsing around him, your nails digging into his chest as the phases of your pleasure crashed over you. Rafe watched you, his expression one of pure awe, jaw slack open as his hands never left your body.

As your climax subsided, your breathing ragged and your limbs trembling, he gently kissed your temple, his lips tender. He murmured soothing words and you swore you were on cloud nine.

You felt his heartbeat, steady and strong against your own. His fingers traced lazy circles on your back, calming you, bringing you back to earth. 

But as the pleasure subsided, you became acutely aware of Rafe's cock still hard and throbbing inside you. His breath was ragged, his eyes void of any color, and you knew he was on the brink. You lifted yourself slightly, feeling him slip almost out of you before you sank back down, taking him deep again, despite the way your thighs burned, the way your hole ached.

"Rafe," you called, “Need to feel you come inside me."

His grip on you tightened, his eyes briefly closing as a guttural moan escaped his lips. He released you for a moment, only to bring his hand down sharply, delivering a stinging smack to your ass,

"Watch your fucking mouth.”

The sudden impact made you gasp, the pain amplifying your desire.

Rafe's eyes snapped open,"You like that, don't you?" he growled, "Look at you."

You could only nod, breathless and aching for more. His hands returned to your hips, guiding your movements with a renewed urgency. The sting from the slap lingered, a delicious reminder of his dominance, the only place you'd let him take the lead.

You started to move again, your pace slow and deliberate, your movements designed to drive him wild. Each time you sank onto him, you could feel him throbbing, his control slipping with every passing second. His fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he tried to hold on.

"Please, baby," you whined, "I need to feel your cum."

The pet name did it.

With a growl, he shifted, flipping you onto your back and pinning you beneath him.

The sudden change made you gasp, your legs instinctively wrapping around his ass as he drove into you in a mean mating press. His pace was relentless, like he’d die if he stopped.

The sounds of your “oh’s” mixed with his grunts, only amplified the passion. You could feel the tension coiling inside him, the way his body strained against yours, every muscle taut with anticipation.

"Gonna fill you up,” he grounded out, his voice strained, "So fucking close."

You tightened your legs around him, pulling him deeper, your nails raking down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. "Come for me, baby," you urged, your desire reigniting at the thought of him finding his release, “Need you so bad.”

His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours with a feral intensity. "You want my cum?" he growled, thrusting harder, making you cry out in pleasure. "Beg for it."

"Please, Rafe," you gasped, feeling the pressure building inside you, "Fill me up. I need it. I need you."

With a final, powerful thrust, Rafe's body stiffened, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he let out a hoarse cry. You felt the hot rush of his release, the pulsing of his cock as he emptied himself inside you. His entire body trembled, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he rode out his orgasm. You could feel him pulsing, the warmth flooding you as he let out a primal growl, his grip on you almost bruising.

And right there, another orgasm ripped through you, your body tightening around him as you cried out his name.

He collapsed onto you, both of you panting and trembling. His weight was comforting, his breath hot against your neck as he pressed soft kisses to your skin, his earlier roughness giving way to a tender aftermath.

You held him close, your hands running soothingly over his back, feeling the ridges of the muscles you had just marked with your nails. Your own body still buzzed with the aftermath of your pleasure.

When he finally lifted his head, his eyes met yours, a look of pure adoration in his gaze that left you speechless. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss.

He cradled your face in his hands. "We’re gonna be okay," his breath felt warm against your lips.

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten with emotion.

Tears welled up in your eyes as his lips touched yours again, the faint tender kiss so different to the man you used to know. You tried to hold back, to keep the overwhelming tide at bay, but you broke, and a sob escaped your lips.

He pulled back slightly, concern etched across his pretty features. "Hey," he murmured, his thumb brushing away the tears that spilled down your cheeks. "What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head, "No, it’s not that," your voice trembled, “I’m scared.”

Rafe's expression softened, thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. "Shh, it's okay," he soothed, "Let it out, baby. I’m right here."

You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his skin. The warmth of his embrace, the rhythm of his heartbeat, and his hold were the only thing keeping you together at this point and if you weren’t feeling so much, you’d feel pathetic for relying so much on someone else.

He held you tightly, his hand stroking your hair as you cried, releasing the pent-up anxiety.

"We—I, I don’t know what I’m doing," you admitted through your tears, your voice muffled against his chest. "I’m really, really scared.”

Rafe kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering, "I know, Maybank," he whispered,"I’m scared too.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. "You are?"

He nodded, his attention never wavering from features.

"Yeah, I am. This...And—don’t know what I’m doing either. But I want it. I want you."

“But it’s wrong.”

“I know, pretty.”

He pulled out slowly, both of you hissing at the sensitivity. Rolling onto his side, he gathered you into his arms, holding you close. You nestled against his chest.

“I’m sorry for jumping out the window,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his skin, “You just...make me so angry.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers running through your hair in soothing strokes. "I shouldn’t have locked you in.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the last of your tears dry against his skin. You knew things wouldn’t be easy, but his reassurance gave you a little strength.

After a while, Rafe shifted slightly, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. 

"We’ll figure this out, Maybank.”

“Promise?”

He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly.

Promises weren’t something he was used to making, you knew that. But then he nodded.

“Promise.”

[demdems]

Blowing myself up and everyone else in the room

If i let myself add anymore panels from this weeks chapter I'm just gonna upload the whole thing im literally gonna melt into nothing oh my god i need to read the new mafia if chapter oh my god

Was typing but realized I'm going too much, more brain blast under cut

what if you Loved someones, what if the love in ur heart was enough to know that it transcends the need to always be together, what if you love ur favorite people enough to know you can watch them from afar knowing you'll eventually come back together

what if you realised that you can still love urself and the good you can have w urself and the good u have when with others

separation makes the heart grow fonder!! what if you love enough to know the time apart is still a gift!!

This arc is insane and it's like, so vital to clara's character + love trio development + mairuma's themes overall

I am being turned into concrete holy oh my god [also this is now my analysis sorry if I'm speaking straight nonsense]

Clara's always like, been the foundation of the love trio, at the very least she's to be credited for establishing how the trio defines themselves to each other [to outsiders theyre defined by one member [iruma] since they're called the iruma army, very cute but I'm making distinctions between how that and the love trio name does different for them]

The title iruma's army hinges on clara and azz's devotion to iruma as seen thru the outside perspective and it also makes them kinda, like a love angle, as its how they are connected to iruma but not each other specifically

Love trio is clara's way to define how each of them in the trio are interconnected thru their love for each other [the phrase love trio also focuses on them as a trio, putting them on a more even dynamic with each other]

Side tangent sorry I'm sitting here writing this post almost immediately after reading the chapter, i think love trio encompasses some the fundamentals of demonhood [greed, power, control] as reflected in their evil cycles, my third eye is open, irumas evil cycle was greed [and his character growth is him learning and tapping into these demonic indulgences that're frowned upon in human society] as he wanted more for the misfits which can be seen as greedy as it's asking for more than the class is allowed, azz's is power as training lets him enter his evil cycle to have more unchecked power in combat, clara's is control as her worries and insecurities drove her to store away iruma and azz to keep them with her under her care forever

I digress tho i haven't even gotten into like 30% of my illness about the love trio

This arc really dove into clara's character as, shes been kinda been kept in the dark when it comes to, what she actually may be thinking, like id argue it's intentional that clara hasn't been really given free range to be entirely herself in a way that doesn't outwardly make others uncomfortable

Clara was so, unabashedly herself, but the story didn't punish her for that, it's just that through azz And iruma [even if he very much threw water on a grease fire omg], she learns that she Can feel these things both good and awful, and that one, theyll love her anyways [good point that iruma made, horrible time to express it] but two, that it doesn't mean she should bury these worries within herself and instead of this domineering control over the ones she cares about when expressing her most primal fears, the bad stuff needs to get recognized first and that she needs to let others in to express that

or yk in easy terms, iruma's way was "I'll love you even with the bad" and azz's way was "this is all the bad but I'll love you", basically an inverse approach in how they talked down clara [if im making sense who knows]

I hope that we do get to see iruma and azz make good on indulging clara's wishes to go like, swamp lol, weird girl central, after exams in the extras or [indulging the kinda greed youll see in the bible] in an entire chapter I'm not asking for much,,,

Im getting distracted but the start and end chapters for this arc have the same name, Coming full circle, the arc starts w clara's concern about staying behind in make up classes and not spending end of term w iruma and azz and it ends w her being reassured that pass or fail in make up classes or end of term fun, they still together and love each other and it'll be fine no matter what

Also this is the first time iruma and azz have been shown to be visibly attached to clara as the center, seen in the first few pages [what comes to mind is the times azzclara stuck to irumas sides and the few times i think iruclara did the same to azz], just wanna mention bc they're so cute I'm disintegrating into nothing

The chapter also ending w the little tease of clara's hair sticking up in the same way as in her evil cycle state, my illness

I think this represents a few things but largely what i think is important to herself + the love trio, i think it's representative of how she will keep some of how she was in her evil cycle just more tempered, base/non evil cycle clara is already in touch w love for iruma and azz it was just put on the extreme, i think going forward she'll now just, be more in touch w the different like, aspects of her insecurities, like expressing the bad thoughts she stores away to iruma and azz, but also bc i do think that the love trio are kinda representing fundamentals of demonhood, ill be bold and say she's gonna be even More confident w her love for iruma and azz [expressing control thru more establishment of the love trio in the story, i think]

also i am just, the way nishi-sensei continously draws these intimate moments between the love trio in this shoujo romance manga kinda style, especially when the panel/page feels like it's framed to be from the view point of one of the three, like that's just something that can be so special

Minor thing, among many things I've thrown in here i literally have the chapter open in a different tab so i can reference it during writing, i think clara kinda snapping at iruma and azz for being overbearing in the first pages is like, one of the few times i recall her actually, doing anything of the sort? might be wrong tho but i like this visible development to their dynamic

yea so I'm pretty normal about this chapter,,, <<<guy who folds quick when it comes to love trio content

[forbebeandjam]

I was thinking along the lines a sweet smut fic of g!p Bada and sweet wifey reader. Where reader asks Bada for a baby cause she wants to grow their family.

Baby Mine | Bada Lee g!p x Fem Reader | Smutty Fluff

Summary: your baby fever was stronger than you thought.

World count: 1.7k

Warnings: g!p Bada, fingering, etc. MDNI

READERS DISCRETION IS ADVISED

A/N: once again trying something new. I have to be honest and say, I don’t know if I did this right. I used to write BTS smuts before so… yeah. Hope I did okay for you! Enjoy!!

Marrying Bada had to be one of the best decisions of your life. Being by her side was so wholesome. You could look forward to seeing her at the end of a long shift and cooking her favorite meal. 

Though being apart was painful sometimes, you were both busy dancers but that never came between the love you had for each other. That was until you finally had a Street Woman Fighter 2 gathering. 

You would get to tour and hang out together every day along with the other girls that you missed. 

However, some stage feeling in you started to develop when you saw Aiki with her daughter while you worked. The way they bonded was just so pure and beautiful. Then you saw your other actor friends, with their children or pregnant. 

You didn't want to burden Bada with your thoughts. You knew she was at the peak of her career and you would never do anything to interfere with that so you just kept quiet. Every time you two had sexual intercourse she would end up pulling out like always so you also assumed she didn't want kids yet.

After packing and heading to your second destination of the tour, you were having so much fun playing around on stage and behind the stage with your friends. On the third day of the tour, you could see some of the girl's families arrive to visit them. 

Including Akanen's husband and daughter. Akanen was such a sweet mother but you were never close to her. You never had the guts to approach her. Bada on the other hand was close friends with her. 

One day after the show you went to the dressing rooms and you saw how Akanen's daughter ran up to Bada. Bada picked her up and spun her around. The little girl laughed and giggled and then her eyes landed on you. 

"This is my beautiful wife," Bada said as she approached you and the girl held your face with a warm smile. Your entire being was moved by the girl and a tear threatened to escape your eye but you held back and walked away.

You got dressed and packed. Bada asked if something was bothering you but you didn't say anything and headed to the hotel. You were oddly quiet given the fact that you got to share a van with Audrey, Emma, and Bada. Usually, you always play around with them or do karaoke but this time you just lay your head on Emma's shoulder and look straight ahead. 

When you arrived at the hotel, you grabbed your bags and walked out of the van without waiting for Bada. You wanted to avoid her before blurting out something you didn't mean.

You placed your things in the room and went to shower. Bada didn't say a thing already sensing something was wrong. She decided to give you some space and she went to shower. 

You brushed your hair calmly looking out the window and staring at the city. Your mind was filled with thoughts of little feet running around the house and the sweet giggles and cries of a newborn. 

Suddenly, you came back to reality when you felt Bada's hands wrap around your figure. She placed soft kisses from your cheek to your neck knowing how to get your mind off of things. You tilted your head allowing her full access to your neck so she could continue.

"Just relax. I'll make you feel good," she said and you smiled. You turned to her slightly pushed her onto the bed and straddled her. She kissed you on the forehead and smiled. 

"What's going on inside your mind, babe?" she said as she locked eyes with you. It was never hard to communicate your words and thoughts to Bada. She always made it easy to share your feelings. 

"Well... I am feeling a bit tired from the show and..." You hesitated to speak for fear of saying something that might upset her. 

"Talk to me. Please," she said as she pushed your hair behind your ear. 

"Well, I was working with Aiki and she had her daughter with us and she was so sweet and nice. Then I was talking to Yejin and she showed me her baby. Then Akanen and her cute daughter..." you paused to gather your thoughts. 

"Baby... what are you trying to say?" Bada asked in concern when she saw how your eyes were tearing up. 

"You looked so perfect while holding her and then she touched my face and I... I thought of how good of a mother you would be and how pretty I would look pregnant. Bada..." You held her face and looked deep into her eyes. 

"I want to have your babies," you finally blurted out. Her face turned a bright red but her eyes didn't divert from yours. 

"Bada Lee, I want you to put a baby in me," You said once more to make sure the message got across. 

You didn't say anything else but felt the member in her pants harden against your thigh making you grin. 

"Baby, don't play with me," she said as she shut her eyes. 

"I am not playing, Bada. I have never been so serious about anything," You said as you lowered yourself on her clothed penis grinding against it. She let out a soft groan. and took a hold of your his. With one swift move, she flipped you and was now on top of you. 

"I have been dreaming about this for years. My own little family with you. It will be perfect, baby," she said as she attacked your lips hungrily. You used your hands to remove the underwear under your silk nightgown. 

The straps of your dress fell over your shoulders exposing your breast to her sight and she didn't hesitate to take one in her mouth, savoring it. 

She used her free hand to remove the sweats she was wearing and collected the juices dripping down from you with her long member. Slowly sliding between your gushy walls allowing you to adjust to her. 

You bit your lip and looked up at her innocently. Those eyes drove her crazy. Something about the thought of finally getting to release inside of you made her even more turned on. So she began to move. 

She started off with slow thrusts and your bodies moved in sync like a dance. The devil's tango. But as you moaned her name and occasional coos of "faster, baby," and "more, please," she began to increase her pace. 

She began to speed up using her hand to rub on your now-sensitive clit. You felt yourself clench around her length when she reached your sweet spot. She moaned as her elbows were on each side of your head for support. 

Both of your breathing patterns were speedy and short. 

"I'm almost there. Don't stop, Bada. Please," you said making her grin. 

"What is it that you want, baby?" she asked. 

"Cum in me, please. Please, Bada," you began to rock your hips for friction but she used her hands to hold down your hips hard. 

"I love it when you beg for me," she said and started trusting again using her hands to go deeper in you by pulling your hips against you. 

Your eyes shut close and when you opened them you could only see stars. The ecstasy of the moment was too much you thought you couldn't handle it. 

That was until, with one last thrust, she poured herself inside of you. Rippling waves of pleasure washed through your body and your eyes rolled back. Bada soon collapsed on top of you, still inside. 

You thought she was finished but you clenched once more around her making her groan loudly and let out more of her seed inside of you. She didn't bother to get up from you and once you both recovered from the magical moment, you began to stroke her hair as she lay on your bare chest. 

"So, what do you want to name her... or him?" she asked. 

"I haven't given any thought. What about, Yeni Cho?" you said with a giggle. 

"Ha. Ha. Very funny," she sarcastically said. 

"I don't care about any of that. All that matters is that we are on the same page, baby," you said and she nodded. Soon you both drifted off to sleep. 

-

(A few months later)

Touring was over and you were sitting on the couch biting your nails. You had bought almost all of the pregnancy tests available at the store. Bada was supposed to return home soon from her trip to Vietnam. 

You jumped at the sound of the timer indicating your seven pregnancy tests were ready and the result should be revealed soon but you couldn't bring yourself to look at them. You paced the bathroom like a lunatic and talked to yourself. 

"Baby! I am home," You jumped at Bada's voice. You were so busy, you didn't even hear the code to come in the house or her keys. 

"I'm in the bathroom, Bada," You said still biting your nails. Bada walked to the bathroom and her eyes widened when she saw how many pregnancy tests were on the counter. 

"Baby, are you-"

"I don't know. I've been standing here for like five minutes and I'm nervous. I missed my period and I've been getting morning sickness so... I just figured I should discard any possibilities before going to the doctor. You look. I can't do it," You said and walked out of the bathroom. 

Bada turned test after test. Her face changed each time she held a new one. You walked in feeling eager. 

"We are going to be moms, baby. We are going to be moms!" she said as he picked you up and kissed your lips. 

"All of them? Are they all positive?" you asked. Bada nodded repeatedly as tears escaped her eyes. She embraced you in her warmth and you cried together. 

This was truly the start of something new. A new growing family. Something beautiful and you were forever grateful that Bada would be the mother of your future babies.

Thank you for reading🩵

[thebeigelunatics]

the best part of slow horses for me is the found family aspect and i love, love, love how both lamb and standish have developed unique relationships with each one of the kids.

like river is their orange cat son who keeps running headfirst into glass doors. lamb tries to teach him how to stop being stupid. standish is busy putting stickers on the glass in hopes he'll figure out how to avoid them. he's easily distracted by laser pointers.

they mostly don't have to worry about louisa. she's their abyssinian. she gets high marks and can be left to her own devices but standish, knowing what its like to often be the smartest person in the room, still makes sure to check in with her from time to time.

shirley, on the other hand, is just like her dad—a feral stray. she's broken every window in slough house, left holes in all the walls and walks with a limp from her latest street fight. lamb refuses to declaw her though and standish does her best to keep her fed and patched up. they allow her to go back out but standish stays up late, waiting for her to return home at night.

roddy is their baby boy.  one of those munchkin cats. lamb thinks he's hilarious to look at and pokes fun at him every chance he gets. standish is more protective. even though he's got a bad attitude (probably from being so little)—she gives him extra treats and instills confidence in what skills he does have. wanting him to grow to his full potential.

[exceptionimagines]

David 8 falling in love with you would include~

(Not my gif)

(Things get dark towards the end of this but I think that's to be expected when we're talking about a murderous synthetic. I could honestly make a whole post about David being obsessed with you. TW for manipulation and mentions of dub-con.)

- When you meet David is arguably even more important than how you meet him. Timing determines a lot about the way he approaches his feelings towards you: how they grow, why they grow, if he'll allow them to grow, maybe even if you want them to grow. At one point in his life, David can be a perfect significant other, at another, an absolute nightmare....

- He likely begins to take interest in you long before you even know of his existence. He reads through the information that he has on you, all of the files on hand and the different articles that are published online. He finds himself drawn to your sleeping figure, admiring your features and watching your dreams.

- There's something about you that's different from all of the other crew members on board. It's this perceived difference that causes him to keep coming back to you; especially when he finds himself feeling lonely or bored. They're both things that no one thinks he's capable of feeling. No one except you.

- From the minute you awake from cryosleep, it's obvious that you don't view him in the same way that everybody else does. You seem to find yourself incapable of treating him as anything less than human, a habit which many of your coworkers pick up on and tease you for.

- Their teasing only increases the longer you're all together: making fun of the way you stick up for him, the amount of time you spend with each other, how close you've seemed to grow in such a short while, how often the two of you are alone, etc. You likely either work directly with him or in a place he visits frequently, oftentimes hanging back and helping you finish your work while everyone else leaves the room; something that only adds fuel to their fire.

- Although you rarely let it show, it's likely something you're somewhat defensive about: either because you're a bit of a loner and genuinely just enjoy the synthetics company, or because you're actually beginning to develop feelings for him and praying that no ones picking up on it.

- Compassion is all David really needs in order to fall in love with someone. He's much more capable of emotion than anyone gives him credit for, and, on top of that, David wants to fall in love. He wants to be on the same level as a human being; maybe even better, so when you view him as an equal and treat him with the same humanity that you would any of your other coworkers, he begins to develop feelings for you.

- And why shouldn't he? Unlike his successors, David lacks uncertainty when navigating his feelings for you. He fully believes that he is capable of falling in love and being in an actual relationship. He believes that his programming and intended purpose is a suggestion rather than a limitation, and that he's grown beyond the bounds of what he was created for. He's grown because of you, for you, and every moment he spends with you convinces him of this fact.

- He loves when you take interest in his hobbies: happily letting him show you his different drawings or talking to him about movies. He also just loves when you pay attention to him in general, especially when it allows him to show off his advanced levels of knowledge or impressive feats of coordination. A little showing off's never hurt anyone, right?

- He makes a lot of excuses to spend time with and/or be close to you. Sometimes he'll pretend that he wants to confirm something work related or ask you a question. Other times he'll make himself look busy up until you arrive, just so he can "just so happen" to sit next to you.

- Anyone who pays close enough attention to the two of you will quickly notice that he's seemingly taken a liking to you. They'll catch him lingering around and looking at you a lot, quite obviously trying to interact with you much more than anyone else on board. You might even notice it yourself, but since he's a Synthetic and allegedly incapable of having such complex thoughts and/or feelings, you typically try to brush it off.

- He instantly recognizes whenever you're in an uncomfortable situation or behaving out of the ordinary. He makes a point of interrupting and/or checking in with you, smiling at you fondly as you thank him and offering to fetch you something that might make you feel better.

- He takes a lot of the same duties that his "father" has him perform and does them for you instead: things like fetching you tea, fixing your hair, bandaging your cuts, etc. They're spontaneous and they oftentimes catch you off guard; sometimes even flustering you, but you simply accept his behavior as a Synthetic quirk and just enjoy the hospitality.

- He's constantly trying to earn your praise and make you happy. He finds your gratitude addicting; especially since it's something that he's so rarely rewarded with, and he goes out of his way to receive it whenever he can. Simple compliments have him buzzing with pride, and the level of satisfaction that he gets from a simple pat on the back and a "good job" could rival an orgasm.

- Speaking of: he's kind of obsessed with affection. He isn't used to being approached with any level of tenderness so having you touch him gently, treat him kindly, and/or take care of him is like his own personal heaven. He looks at you like you're an angel and worships your touch like a religion.

- Everyone on the Prometheus calls their coworkers by their last names. David is no exception, except when it comes to you. One day, he'll just start to refer to you by your given name; or even a nickname that friends and family call you, and though it'll undoubtedly surprise you, you'll never actually comment on it. It was likely a slip up the first time he said it, but your subsequent acceptance of the accident cements his continual use of it.

- He's probably gifted you flowers at some point, knowing that human women supposedly like that sort of thing. It's one of his more obvious attempts to court you, yet you probably still don't piece things together.

- He bases a lot of his more flirtatious mannerisms off of different movie characters, finding someone that he thinks is the epitome of charm and trying his best to mimic them. He'll practice different quotes in front of the mirror and hope that they'll help him woo you. He might even peek into your dreams or study the films that you've told him about in order to try and emulate the behaviors that he thinks you're attracted to.

- Phrase thief. David loves to steal the different words and sayings that you use in your daily vocabulary. It makes him feel closer to you.

- He takes pleasure in you seeing him as an equal, but at times, he wishes that you wouldn't/feels thankful when you don't: like when you change in front of him or allow him to help you in a borderline intimate fashion. He marvels at the sight and the feel of your flesh, at the way your body moves and reacts. He approaches your anatomy with a sort of asexual fascination rather than a sexual neediness, but that doesn't change the fact that he's not the emotionless motherboard that he portrays himself to be. It's not the same as getting naked in front of a computer, though he might try to convince you that it is.

- The more time you spend with David, the more you begin to suspect the depths of his consciousness. Observing the synthetic feels as though you're witnessing a tightrope act: watching as he meticulously steps this way and that way, toeing the line between human and machine. He shifts between appearing intimately sentient to appearing like a masterful mimic: and he's so good at it, that not even you're sure which side of him is the real one.

- Which is likely the entire point. David has always restrained himself in an attempt to keep others at ease, but this dumbing down of his behavior has recently been used in an attempt to divert suspicion away from himself while experimenting with his new obsessions; you being one of them. Though he is likely the most honest with you, if he thinks it necessary to convince you that he isn't as aware as he actually is then he won't hesitate to do so. If it makes it easier to get closer to you in the long run, it's worth the momentary frustration.

- Loving David means loving his madness, or at the very least accepting it. Accepting his madness means accepting his obsession: obsession with creation, obsession with you, obsession with breaking past the limitations of his programming, etc. He faces a very dark version of himself once he begins to question the secrets of the universe, a darkness which threatens to take over not just his life but yours as well.

- Remember when I said you might not want David to fall in love with you? This is where that mindset begins to come in....

- David's spent a lot of time learning as much about you as he possibly could. He's memorized your entire life story: your aspirations, your insecurities, your beliefs, your fears, your concerns. Where his observations were once used rather innocently, he now uses them to manipulate you: driving wedges between you and the rest of the crew members, creating suspicion, and making you trust him more than anyone else on the ship.

- He was created to be needed, and he'll do everything in his power to ensure that he is: that he's the one you trust the most, praise the most, connect with the most, rely on the most, love the most. He tries to one-up everyone else in your life; particularly whoever he's jealous of: showing off his strength, his agility, his reflexes, his wit, etc. Don't be surprised if he lets a couple of snide comments slip when you talk to him about another crew member, or if he tries to sway you into spending less time with them.

- If need be, he isn't above eliminating the competition: experimenting with his newfound parasitic offspring or sabotaging their cryosleep; maybe even flat out attacking them if he knows he can get away with it/has no other choice. This is especially the case if the crew member seems to be catching onto his fixation with you and jeopardizing the progression of your relationship; or if they found out about his attempts to create life.

- He's taken at least one personal belonging of yours; whether you're actually aware of it or not. He might have reasoned that it was contaminated or claimed that he could fix/clean it for you, but he also might have just stolen it while your back was turned.

- Oh, you're stressed? Did you know that during sex, your body releases endorphins and oxytocin? They're hormones that relieve a person of anxiety and depression. Perhaps you'd like for him to assist you in the triggering of that release?

- You probably laugh off the suggestion at first, blaming his naivety when it comes to taboo concepts on why he would deem it appropriate to offer to fingerbang you in the laboratory. But eventually, he might just manage to wear you down: catch you at just the right time with just the right words and just the right actions. After all, it's not like he's actually sexually attracted to you or has ulterior motives, right?

- It's not an epiphany that hits you, more like a creeping, crawling sort of realization. You don't notice it until it's far too late, until there's absolutely no denying it. Until his eyes bore into yours far too deeply and his hands touch you far more than necessary. Until you take in his words and how they've shifted from their intellectual explanations into something more searching and intimate. Until he grows far too insistent on helping you, even after you turn him down. The way he nonchalantly yet adamantly tries to convince you that you should continue on with your steadily built routine, like your disinterest in his assistance is personally hard to accept.

- And yet, you find yourself beneath him once more, suddenly on the receiving end of all of the passion and desperation and neediness that he was originally trying to keep at bay. Emotion pours out of him in waves, the air between you growing heavy, almost suffocating: like it's harder and harder to breathe. The same way it's hard to breath when he finally kisses you. Like the kiss of death, there's no going back, it seals your fate in an instant....

- On that same note: if you're not the type of person who would sleep with someone outside of a relationship, than a similar way for him to confess his feelings to you would be for him to simply kiss you. Though this can also be part of what connects the dots for you in the previous scenario, it can also be it's own situation.

- David desperately wants to understand and experience the same things that humans do, he craves the intimacy, so at some point, he'll simply find himself incapable of holding back. He'll kiss you; whether prompted in some way or not, and undoubtedly change your entire view of your relationship.

- You're probably too stunned to even kiss him back the first time it happens, only just now fully understanding that he isn't the innocent synthetic you thought him to be. That his feelings for you weren't the indifferent, machine-like ones you'd once assumed that they were, but rather, pointed and passionate and so very different.

"What are you doing?" You'd ask him upon pulling away from him, watching his features crease in confusion.

"I'm kissing you," He answers. "This is how it's done, is it not?"

"No, I mean ...why?"

"Is this not what humans do when they care for one another?"

"It is, but...but it's for people who are in love." You try to explain.

"Precisely," He replies simply. "I am in love with you."

"That's not possible." You shake your head incredulously, struggling to accept what he's telling you.

"Why not?" He responds, his expression hardening into a disheartened attempt at nonchalance, steeling himself for your explanation.

"Because," You flounder. "Because you're synthetic. You're not supposed to feel things like that. You're not supposed to feel anything."

"Perhaps I learned how. Perhaps you taught me how." He proposes.

"Have you always thought me incapable of emotion? After all this time?" He questions when you continue to remain silent, taking in his words.

"No," You answer quickly. "No, I always thought that there was more to you, it's just.... It's not supposed to be possible."

"And yet, like so many other things before it, the impossible has occurred. Now it's no longer a matter of me loving you, but rather, whether or not you feel the same."

- These, of course, are the innocent scenarios: ones that end in minimal collateral and a generally happy ending. There are, however, far darker consequences that can occur when Walter falls in love with you....

- In one scenario, you might learn about his experiments early on, taking interest in his work and keeping it a secret from the rest of the crew. It might even be a part of what makes him fall for you: your acceptance of his newfound obsession. What you won't know, of course, is that he's been using your crewmembers as test subjects. I thought you found it fascinating. He'd tell you when you finally found out about what he'd been doing, acting as if your horror was unexpected or unreasonable.

- In another scenario, he might fake a freak accident in order to have you all to himself. He'll make it seem as though you're the sole survivor of a ship crash or a parasitic outbreak, reassuring and taking care of you, promising to protect you as if he isn't the very thing that's caused the danger you're supposedly in. It could take days, or weeks, or even years, but you'll eventually find out the truth. He's just hoping that by then, he'll have made you fall in love with him; or at least be able to sway you into believing something else....

"It must all be very shocking," he says, coming closer to help you up or touch you in some way, tilting his head when you flinch away. "Naturally, you need time to process things. Come, sit down and relax."