#i just push it to the side and pretend that ill come back to it

[mrpenguinpants]

Omg you're back again hello 👀 how have you been????

Big mood on the "man I wish this author would finish their fic" LOL I've been rereading my own wiring recently and going wtf. Where's the rest of it?

For a limited time only babyyy

But I've been good. Extremely busy but it's okay, the pto is worth it. That's what I keep telling myself at least :) but how are you??? Is anything interesting happening? New developments perhaps 👀

The funny thing is that I've actually been talking with a few mutuals, and they've all told me that they recently went back to re-read their drafts. Maybe it's something in the air or we're all feeling a bit nostalgic? Or because everyone is on break since it's summer.

[ktaerssoi]

hii could you do a jealous kate fic PLEASEEE

jealously is my middle name

summary: blowing off a project for your girlfriend and her jealously.

(678)

kate martin x reader

Being a business major meant being paired up with others often, and by the middle of freshman year, most people had a go-to partner. Your go-to partner was Violet, she was pretty and super funny.

By senior year, you and she had worked on countless projects together. You guys had recently been assigned a project that would be part of your final grade, wanting to finish it early, you guys had planned to meet up the following day to get a basic layout.

there was one problem though, your girlfriend. Kate had been making up excuses for you to stay home all day, whether it was her pretending to be sick, saying that you had all semester, or just saying she would miss you so much that she would "die an agonizing death."

needless to say, she didn't want you to go. "Kate, I need to go, seriously now." you separated yourself from her, knowing that the physical contact would make you fold.

"I don't know where your problem with me hanging out with Violet is coming from, but we need to get this work done." You and Kate were standing by the front door of your guys' shared apartment, she was leaning against the wall, still trying to bargain with you.

"It's not that I had something against her, I just don't understand why you guys have to meet up so often. I mean seriously, it's like every other day." She had pushed herself off the wall, her hands finding your waist as she now stands in front of you.

you squirm at her touch, the simple action causing your cheeks to flush. "because it's our final kate, it's not like it's optional." you looked up at her, she was 6'0, so it got hard to focus sometimes when you guys were standing so close together.

she nodded, a disappointed look on her face, but you quickly saw her eyes change as a thought popped into her head. She stared down at your lips for a second, and then quickly pulled you into a kiss.

you kiss back quickly, melting into it, a pout on your face as she pulls away. "kate, you can't just do that." she gives you a confused look, but you don't miss the smirk on her face.

"do what? I can't give my girlfriend a goodbye kiss as she leaves to go hang out with another girl?" you shake your head, realizing what Kate's big problem is with Violet all of a sudden.

"you're jealous." you smile, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck as she tries to pull you closer (if it was even possible)

"I- what?" the look on her face makes you laugh, her being unable to defend herself, giving you all the proof you need. "I am not jealous."

She narrows her eyes, the tips of her ears reddening at your accusations. "you see y/n, if I was jealous, then I would be trying to get you to stay home. I'm not doing that. Leave for all I care, te ll Violet I say hi or whatever." she bites the inside of her cheek, her hands falling to her sides and off your waist, trying to act nonchalant.

"mhm, okay then, see you later k." you smile, kissing her goodbye as you go to reach for the door you don't get far and you feel her hands grab your waist once again pulling you toward her. "okay but seriously babe do you really have to start it today? wait until tomorrow at least," the end of her sentence is muffled as she barries her head into your neck, her front pressed up against your back as your hand is still on the doorknob.

"not jealous my ass."

-

you had texted Violet that something had come up, and you were unable to meet her that day, you and kate had spent the rest of the night watching movies. (along with other things)

it wouldn't be the last time you had to blow someone off for kate.

okay chat, i like dont absolutely hate this but it def isnt my fav, so ill prob rewrite it.. i was also thinking of rewriting the other kate fic bc i just don't like how i left it. also how do we feel about me writing for women's hockey?? lord kk harvey is so fine. anyway chat im actually dying sos - kate

[highvern]

Use Me

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi) x fem!reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: established relationship, somnophilia (kinda of? Its pretend), roleplay?, unprotected sex, clothed sex, manhandling, fingering, grinding, hoshi is a menace (this is a threat), degradation and praise (good girl, slut), spanking, poor seokmin is used as cannon fodder, dom-ish soonyoung at the end, brat reader, they’re both switches and disgustingly horny for each other

Length: ~1.5k

Note:  i personally feeling iffy about somnophilia but in the context of this fic my mind just turned to mush. See y’all in hell! mwah @tomodachiii come rot your brain with me bestie

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! MDNI or you'll be blocked!

Soonyoung’s heart races upon finding your sleeping figure curled up beneath the mountain of blankets spread across your bed. You look like a princess with your face illuminated in the faint moonlight spilling between the cracks in the blinds.

You’re only pretending to sleep, the usual mess of limbs and faint snoring notably absent, but Soonyoung still feels wrong—dirty—for what he’s about to do.

He slips in behind you easily. Already the scent of your shampoo and firmness of your body drive Soonyoung wild and he hasn’t even done anything yet. A sharp inhale clues him in to just how eager you are and Soonyoung finds solace that he isn’t alone in how affected he is.

You begged for tonight. Quietly sharing how much the idea of being fucked awake turned you on; for your boyfriend to use your body while you slept, cumming inside you and leaving the mess for you to find in the morning. It wasn’t something you wanted randomly, but after much discussion you both agreed to try it. 

You went through your usual nighttime routine as if Soonyoung wasn’t waiting in the living room. “It’ll help set the mood,” he joked. In reality, he did nothing but pace back and forth while listening to the steady patter of the shower, coming to terms with the fact that his sweet-faced girlfriend craved something so debased. Ironic given the way you’re definitely the kinker one between the two of you with an overflowing box of goodies tucked in the closet to prove it.

Still. There’s something about you giving him free reign of your body while you slept (even if it was pretend) boiled his blood. Maybe it was because the sheer trust you bestowed upon him to allow him such graces or something primitive in his brain about being the only person you’d ever let inside you like this. Or perhaps it's the slight guilt curling around his throat at how turned on he was when you shared your fantasy. Either way, all Soonyoung knows is he’s harder than he’s ever been in his life and the way you arch against him isn’t helping.

So now you both play this little game. Pretending to doze while your boyfriend traces his fingers up your sides, finding that the only thing underneath your oversized sleep shirt is bare skin. Each teasing pass of his hands force another shaky breath through your nose, goosebumps flaring along your arms at the tease of it all. When Soonyoung’s thumb finds the swell of your breast, gently resting the flesh in the curve of his palm, he commends you for committing to the performance until your ass pushes back against his cock desperately. 

The silence of the room rings in your ears. Each breath is awkward and ill timed, forced to pace yourself lest you end the entire charade before there's time to enjoy it. Clothes and blankets ruffle together as Soonyoung moves you just so, one arm under your head and the other continue to etch a path of electricity across your stomach to your heaving chest. 

Tugging on your nipples, you squeak in your boyfriend’s grasp, biting back a pathetic moan when he nips at your ear. You focus on not responding, on completely living in the fantasy; even when the man behind you parts your legs with one of his own and flexes a hard thigh against your aching cunt. Only his thin boxers separate his aching length from your skin, the evident damp spot searing against the cleft of your ass. 

You desperately want to grind down but manage to stop yourself.

Soonyoung doesn't make you suffer for very long, the hand on your breast dropping between your spread thighs to press two digits into your leaking opening. 

“Fuck…how are you this wet already?” Soonyoung whispers, fingers curling just right.

Soonyoung rushes to stretch you out, thrilled in the way you shudder under his touch. He frantically shoves his underwear down, freeing his cock and wedging it between your spread thighs. The weight resting at your entrance is tempting. A tease of penetration as the swollen tip dips inside. All it would take is a tilt of your hips, a press of his and you’d be full—completed. But Soonyoung’s fist rests just below the head and prevents you from sliding back any further.

“Shouldn’t do this when you’re sleeping.” He mutters loud enough for you to hear.

You’d ignore his chastising if it weren’t for the way he withdraws his hips, putting miles of distance between your bodies in a matter of centimeters.

A pathetic whimper answers before you can stop it. The way he plays with you is maddening. As if you hadn’t been wet since you admitted you wanted this; as if you hadn’t given into temptation and touched yourself in the shower, listening to him stalk around the living room like a tiger in a cage.

Soonyoung rolls you onto your back, crowding above you and dropping featherlike kisses across your furrowed brow. “Baby, are you awake?”

You refocus. Relaxing your muscles into compliance, you can feel your boyfriend smirk against your jaw as he praises you silently.

“Good girl.”

Sooyoung drops to mouth at your covered breasts, his hips cradled between yours just before he thrusts inside.

“Shit,” he gasps, drowning out the sound of your own reaction to the sudden intrusion. 

It’s always a tight fit and tonight is no different, snuggly wedged between the slick walls of your pussy. Soonyoung hooks one of your legs over the crook of his elbow, spreading you wider to rut against your core. Only just split open on his cock and you're already losing it, nerves fried at the wet echo of bodies meeting desperately; flooded with satisfaction at the hard stretch.

In a matter of seconds you're openly panting, muscles twitching in the familiar rhythm of Soonyoung’s attention. You may be a shit actress but your commitment is commendable as your boyfriend does everything in his power to break you. 

He doesn’t fuck you fast and reckless like usual; no scrambling up the bed when the force of his hips push you away from him and further into the pillows or you both teeter on the edge of the mattress because your so lost in eachother. No, if you’re still pretending then Soonyoung is in it too. Slow grinds inside you, the kind the brush against places you didn’t realize existed and light a flame in your belly because that's where you feel him. Every inch memorizing the ridges inside you, the head of his cock bulldozing against that place Soonyoung’s been able to locate since the first time you took your clothes off for him.

“Babys so good at taking cock she can sleep right through it.” He taunts into your sternum with a lick.

There isn’t much you can do in terms of revenge for the ill timed remark. The one thing you can do is sure to leave you with a bruised ass and the taste of his cum. So you do it.

“Seokminnie,” you whine breathily, turning sideways to hide a wicked smirk.

Soonyoung doesn't let it slide, soft caresses melting into firm grips reminding you that your doting boyfriend’s muscles aren’t for show; and he’ll gladly use them against you if you want to act like a brat. The sensual pace seconds prior is long forgotten, replaced with a punishing rhythm as he rises to sneer in your face. 

You beat him to the punch, blinking lazily to stare with confused eyes. “Soonie?”

The nickname earns you another kick of his hips, answered with a twitch of your insides and an arch of your spine. Attentive Soonyoung is great, but annoyed Soonyoung is the best fuck you’ll ever have. 

“Oh, now she knows my name,” he moans into your ear, breathing stuttered in time with the drag of his cock.

A tinge of pain across your nipples confirms that he’s pissed.

“Soonie, what—”

You cut yourself off with a squeak of suprise, lungs tight as your boyfriend twists you to your knees to face the headboard.

Wiggling back to find him, you're met with a swat against the seat of your ass, his hand holding on to the flesh and forcing you away.

“What were you dreaming about?”

“Nothing.” You mumble into the pillows.

Another smack but this time his hand leaves and the sting sends another gush of arousal down your thighs.

“Lie again.”

“I wasn’t—”

Smack.

“Moaning someone else’s name in your sleep?”

“I wouldn’t!”

Smack.

“You did.” His chest molds to your back as he drops his lips to your ear. “So how about I remind you who this pussy belongs to?”

-

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[costelloschoice]

"Nice Riding, Girl"

-Mizu x fem! cowgirl! reader

-warnings: nsfw, fingering, pet names, praise, riding ofc, sub! Mizu, dom! reader

-minors dni or ill steal your family’s pet

-it’s my world and you all are just living it in. I’m bringing back cowgirl reader cause this is my dream right here

-!this is inspired by this post by @roninzuzu!

This scene felt familiar to Mizu.

Here she was again, living a domestic life in the mountains far away from society. Only this time, she wasn't arranged to meet someone. Mizu had met you on her own and fell in love with you, a foreign cowgirl who managed to sweep her off her feet.

You were such a hard worker. And you never wanted Mizu to help since ‘a pretty girl shouldn’t get her hands dirty’, but she still helps feeding the chickens and sheep, and brushing the horses. Sometimes she’d pretend to come outside for some important reason just to see you move heavy stacks of hay, wrestling the chickens to get them out of the coop for you to clean, or, her favorite, watching you chop wood.

Mizu loves how you always managed to make her smile, even with the little things. When you managed to convince her to get a dog so you can have ‘someone to protect the sheep at night’, but Mizu loved watching you play fetch with the dog. Hell, you built the dog its own home off the side of your house. You loved the dog so much and she named the dog, "Kai".

She couldn’t be happier with anyone else. She slowly stopped wearing her masculine clothing around the house and wore typical kimonos. Mizu also loved how you would come up behind her while cooking just hold her waist and kiss her neck…before you had to take over the cooking since she’s not the best at it. But she loved it this way and so did you.

It was late afternoon when you decided to take a horse ride. Mizu never refused riding her horse with yours, wanting to share as many memories possible. She was impressed how you never used a saddle to ride, you told her that you grew up learning to ride without one and kept it that way. But Mizu also love how you always helped her up on her horse, even though she more than capable of doing it herself.

As you two rode your horses fast, your giggles and laughs were heard by the trees around you. She smiled as she saw you ahead of her, “Slow down!” then you would laugh and yell, “Well keep up better, darlin’!” you smiled and turned your head forward to keep riding steady and fast. Your hand resting on top of your cowgirl hat she grew to love as you and your horse 'Slowdancer' were ahead of her.

Once you two finally find a spot by an orange tree, Mizu goes to lay under the tree, using a small knife to peel her own orange while you collected some for home, "You know something baby doll, I haven't had an orange since I was home in America," you said, jumping to grab an orange from a branch. You instantly started to peel an orange to eat it, smiling as you recognize the sweet taste of the fruit.

She giggled as you ate the fruit sloppily, seeing how happy it made you. The sweet juice of the fruit ran down your chin and throat. The site of you devouring the fruit made her remember how you devour her at night...

As you finished and wipe your face, turned to her eating the fruit slice by slice. Smiling and feeling giddy, you sit next to her, wrapping an arm around her, "Taste good?" you asked. She nodded, looking up at you as she ate the citrus fruit. Once she finished, she tossed the orange rime to the side, taking in your warmth instead.

After a while of just sitting and talking, you get the bright idea of rough housing. You were a tough girl, and she knew it, seeing you fight in battle was one of the ways she knew. They way you handled your pistol and how you fight fought them was extraordinary to her. You softly tackle her to the ground, giving her what you called a "noogie", rubbing your knuckles on top of her head. She laughed out and tried to push your hand away, "Stop! Please!" she laughed, managing to flip you over on your back, sitting in your lap.

You looked up at her, eyes wide. She looked so beautiful on top of you. You smirked flipping her over, you can play this game as well. Mizu knew this meant war...figuratively speaking. The both of you stood up to start play wrestling with each other. Your combined laughs and giggles filled the air, the pink and orange hues in the sky creating such a beautiful core moment for the both of you in your relationship.

You smiled as you picked her up, spinning her around as she laughed loudly. The wind blowing their direction made her feel like a princess, "Put me down!" she smiled, her hands resting on your shoulders. Wrapping her legs around your waist, humming happily as you put your hands on her ass to keep her up and support her.

"You look beautiful, baby doll...You should wear your hair down more often," You smiled, kissing her cheek. The samurai blushed, holding your cheek as you kissed her, “I just might now that you mention it..” she says, returning the favor and kissing yours. She hold on tightly as you sat down with her still in your arms.

She smiled resting in you lap, hands rubbing from your shoulders to your chest. She pays attention to little details on your buttoned up shirt. How the floral designs are put in stitch by stitch, the use of different fabrics, and the small stars on your buttons. Mizu felt your hand creeping up her exposed leg, “Mmm…darlin’…Your skin is so smooth,” You praised, moving to kiss her exposed neck, slowly moving your lips.

Mizu rested a hand on the back of your head, keeping you close. The soft breeze makes her shiver slightly, so you held her closer. It was only you two in on these mountains, no one else in sight. Even if there were, you don’t care, you wanted to make love to your woman.

Before she could say your name, you pulled her hips close to yours. Mizu could feel something hard in your pants, “Are you…wearing it?” she asked, making you nod as you kiss her neck. Now the situation got hotter and heavier.

“Grind down, girl…” You instructed, making her nod and listen to you. But she also had a surprise for you since she wasn’t wearing underwear underneath her kimono. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of your kissing her neck and grinding down on your strap that was in your pants. Her moans were soft and light, body shuttering at the feeling of your lips and your strap.

Your hands got curious and moved the top of her kimono, wanting to see her breast. You pulled away from her neck, the wet spot from your mouth shining in the light from the sunset. Your mouth gravitated to her breast, lightly sucking her left breast. Mizu moaned accordingly, trying to undo the buttons to your shirt. She fiddled with the buttons, stopping her grinding monetarily to try and free your breast.

But you lightly smack her hands away, groaning as you flick her nipple with your tongue. Your hand sneaked down to move her kimono, exposing the fact she wasn't wearing panties. You tsked, "Naught, naughty..." you whispered, your middle finger rubbing along her slit.

Biting her bottom lip, she looked down to watch your hand. You always had a way with her body that no one else could match up with. Was it because you were also a woman and knew the sweet spots? Or were you just a sex god? Either way she didn't care, she loved it.

Your middle finger slipped in, curling to hit her sweet spot. The warmth around your finger felt like home, hitting that sweet little button inside to make her louder. Mizu clutched your shoulders, heavily panting and her moans were higher pitched, "F-Fuck..!"

You then added another finger, smiling at her moans and reactions. Wanting more, you moved your fingers faster. You wanted nothing more than to make her feel good, "Look at you, taking it all so well.." you mumbled, fumbling to open the button of your pants and zipper. You pulled out your strap, stroking it as if it was your own cock.

You leaned down to dribble your own spit on the fake dick, your hand coating it with your own saliva. Mizu blushes at it, it felt so dirty...But so hot. Your fingers continued to work her cunt and your fake cock, smiling up at her, "Wanna ride your cowgirl, baby?" you asked, a smug look on your face and she nodded rapidly. You couldn't help your heart skip a beat as she looked at your with her lust-filled blue eyes.

You leaned back on your left forearm, taking your fingers out of her to grab your strap, "Ride it, girl.." you said, watching her nod and move her hips up on the dildo. She moaned as she moved down on the cock, groaning at the feeling of being full.

You laid all of the on your back, looking up at her. Her breast were out, bouncing as she moved up and down, her kimono opened to show her pussy taking your strap. Her eyes were closed as she bounced, moaning loudly. Mizu's sounds were swallowed by the trees and you, but unlike the trees, you listened and enjoyed them.

"Nice ridin' girl...You look so beautiful bouncing up and down like that," you praised, rubbing her hips. The scene in front of you was better than any other view before this one. She looked so beautiful bouncing and grinding against you, the orange tree's branches behind her moving to the wind.

You let Mizu take her pleasure from you. She shouted your name, her hands now resting on your breast, squeezing roughly as you were generous enough to thrust your hips up into her. "Fuck yes! You feel...s-so good. Ah..! Thank you my love..!" She groaned, earning herself a slap on the ass, "Good girl...Thankin' me without havin' to be told to do it.."

Your hips thrusting to match hers was making her movements weak as you took the reins. Mizu leaned forward, receiving kisses on her cheek as you thrusted into her at a fast pace, "Good girls take cock so well....You a good girl?" you asked, breathing heavy as your thrusts weakened her, "Yes! Yes!" she moaned resting her head in the crook of your next as you thrusted.

Her hands rested on yours, grabbing your wrists as she felt close. Her stomach felt like it was doing cartwheels, you knew how to fuck her good and she loved it. "I'm coming, fuck! I-" she moaned, trying to focus on the treatment you are giving her.

Her mouth opened wide but nothing coming out. Then she let a finally moan, grabbing his wrist tightly as she came. You stopped your movements, not wanting to overstimulate her...at least not this time.

You kissed her forehead and moved your hands on her back, "You did so well, baby girl...You know how to ride don't you?" you asked, making her nod. She lifted herself up, making eye contact with you, Before you she could say anything, she felt an orange drop from branch and hit her on the head.

You gasped then started to laugh, rubbing her head, "Are you okay?!" you laughed, her nodding and giggling, "Yes...I'm fine..." she hummed, before smiling at you. She then leaned down and kiss you, enjoying the rest of the sun set with you.

"I just noticed something..."

"What is it, darlin'?"

"...You kept that stupid hat on the entire time.."

[raitonsfw]

𝚖𝚊𝚖𝚊'𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚢 | 𝚗𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚞𝚢𝚊

synopsis: He was a mama’s boy, through and through– in more ways than one. 

warnings: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, smut, mommy kink, dom!reader (kinda), sub!chuuya (again, kinda), cunnilingus, blowjob (while he's on the phone with his mother), chuuya’s obsessed, just a tiny drabble.

a/n: im so sorry, i honestly know nothing of stormbringer and all the light novels so i have no idea what his actual family relations are. just pretend ig! im currently still obsessing over soukoku in the main manga and anime, ill get into the actual lore of chuuya soonish so he’s not so ooc. wc; 500ish. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear

You knew Chuuya put up a front. He’d puff out his chest in the midst of enemies when he was with you in public and sneer at them if they made the wrong move, threatening to pull his gun on them. You watched him as his ego soared outside, at the bar with his Mafia members, yours boosting as well when it came to the night. Because you knew who he really was, seen that vulnerable side of him; behind closed doors, that man was begging on his knees in the middle of the room like the whore that he was. 

When he wasn’t out shielding his face with a stereotypical mask, he was stuck underneath your heel, nearly kissing the floor as you demanded the most of him. He worshipped you like a goddess, as if the straps of Greek mythology held you hostage and brought you to him. A deity of some sort, higher than the clouds that held Mount Olympus, he begged for his Aphrodite. Begged for her– you to touch him, his cock dripping against the fluffy carpet it hovered over. 

He’d whine as you stood over him, harshly pushing his face and his greedy tongue into the swell of your cunt. He’d lap up your wetness eagerly, the mess of it sticking to his face and damn near almost drowns in it. And while he’s doing that, he’d whimper into you, ‘please and thank yous’ with ‘fuck, mommy’ barely coming out as you grinded against his mouth. By the end of it, you would be cumming in waves on his face and a new carpet would be the first thing on your mind because Chuuya had busted all over it halfway through eating you out. 

And some days, your boy would call his own mama, his voice cracking a few times as you worked your pink tongue around his thick cock. The hand that wasn’t preoccupied with his phone would fly to your hair as you swallowed around him, saliva dribbling from the corners of your mouth and down his cock. Chuuya would babble on and on about nonsense, barely able to concentrate when you were sucking the soul out of him. He'd lose his train of thought, his sentence trailing off, and you’d listen to his mother scold him over the phone for losing his place in his over-elaborated story.

He’d have to call her back though to apologize as he’d hang up without so much as a goodbye teetering from his lips, his entire mind foggy from the pleasure you instilled in him. Whines would leak from his mouth in hushed intervals, ‘fuck, right there, please, keep going…’ and he’d push your head down further, making you choke and gag on his cock, thrusting up into the tight heat of your mouth. Chuuya isn’t particularly forceful, he could never do that to you, to his mommy, and he’d shoot his load down your throat, right then and there as he thought about what you could do to him when he eventually scolded you about the phone call bit. But he wouldn’t be mean about it, of course. 

He was a mama’s boy, through and through.

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

extra a/n: part 2 coming soon!

[ariseur]

hello idk if u saw this ask but ill just submit another one !! the prompt "your hands are shaking" anddd perhaps goodbye kisses 🤔 with cloud!!

“cloud, your hands are shaking.”

his reverie is suddenly broken from your soft words as his eyes flicker down to his hands, looking at them with a quizzing brow as if they held the answers to every question that floated in his head. “oh,” he says. his fists clench back before his face hardens again, brows furrowing.

you softly chuckle, taking one hand into your own as you bring it to your chest. he chokes out a small huff of surprise at the gesture.

“you’ll do fine.”

“i know. i’ve gone on plenty of missions without you before.”

“then why’re you shaking?”

he shrugs. he did this a lot. you’d ask him a simple question about his perspective and he’d shrug or pretend he didn’t know. sometimes, cloud really didn’t know. but deep down, truth be told, everything was scary when it came to you. the sliver of chance that could overtake and seize this opportune time resulting in another thing that’s taken away from him. resulting in you being taken away from him.

but of course — instead of saying that, he swallows. “dunno.”

it gets harder and harder to push the uncomfortable tension at the back of his throat down with the way you smile at him, hands behind your back as you lean closer to try and gauge his face.

ever so slightly, he instinctively leans back. not because he wants to, but because it’s almost second nature to him. he doesn’t want that. he tries to inch closer just for you.

you thumb at his fingertips, feeling the way the callouses catch against your skin. he doesn’t pull away.

you can feel his pulse thump quietly against yours, you grin and move your head from side to side to try and regain the eye contact he so desperately tries to avert.

“cloud?”

at the call of his name, his eyes zip back to yours in an instant. at your call of his name.

“come back to me,” one of your hands delicately removes itself from the warmth of his own and instead slithers its way up to his face, thumbing at his cheekbone.

his face is still stone cold with furrowed brows, and from a distance, anybody else would say cloud felt uncomfortable. you knew better though.

“i always will,” he says.

“one last kiss for the road?”

he huffs, yet nonetheless lets his eyes flicker down to your lips and back up again; the strife way of asking to kiss you. you beam, tightening your hold on his hand — no longer shaky but instead lax from your affirmations.

and as you close the distance, his free gloved hand comes up to rest on your face, making sure not to clash against you too roughly.

he feels your lips curl into a grin against his. he doesn’t pull away.

𐙚 dottie’s 500 event — 🍡 ( action and dialogue ) prompts !!

𐙚 taglist ; @alieeelinn @ch3rryfiles

𐙚 non 500 requests are closed — august twentieth, 2024

[sunlightmurdock]

The Odyssey | 1.0 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist | Character Moodboard

Bradley spends the night. Venice changes things.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, power imbalance (professor / student relationship), age gap (22 / 33), swearing, infidelity, explicit pictures, making out, arguing, deception, 18+ minors dni, wc: 5.2k

…

“Sure,” There’s this underlying feeling that he should feel more awkward about this than he does. If he thought too hard about it, he would certainly start to consider the more embarrassing side of the predicament he has found himself in. “If you want.”

When the main focus of his day, for the past four years, has been sex in its various forms, it comes to be such a natural topic, that sometimes Bradley forgets that it’s a taboo. Well, he had been able to forget, until he came across you.

He must be out of his mind. Something to do with the phase of the moon, or his sleeping patterns, or… just the way you’re fucking looking at him. Your skin flushed with heat. He can see you’re warm without touching. Those soft sounds you made for him are fresh in his mind.

You’re sitting on the bed in front of him, one knee crossed over the other in your sweet, patterned wrap dress, staring up at him with eyes teaming with curiosity, and shame. So much, all at once. He can see you, sitting there and making it so complicated, frightening yourself.

It’s all so simple, really. He just wants to make it simple for you.

He starts by clearing his throat and shooting a glance downward at his tented jeans. “You don’t have to touch—“

“I just want to see… one… up close.” You tell him, heat spreading across your cheeks as you lift your gaze to look him in the eye. The sound of your own desires out loud is something that makes you shudder. You pull back slightly, and shift against the bed.

Bradley’s eyes dart downward again, at the pried open zipper, torn loose belt, and the straining bulge in his jeans, then presses his lips together in a moment of silent consideration.

With you, he has never been so unsure of himself.

“How long have you been engaged for, again?” He asks you, bringing a hand up to scratch awkwardly at the back of his neck. Your eyes widen just slightly. Not because you’re a woman being reminded of her infidelity, something else entirely. Something about Malcolm, Bradley just knows it.

“Alright, alright,” Bradley sighs, considering briefly how a person should go about this. His art classes come to mind — he stood naked pretty freely then, this is no different to that. Except he wasn’t supposed to be hard in those classes. “Don’t feel like you have to do anything.”

You push yourself upright as he steps off of the bed and squares his shoulders slightly. Hands settled politely in your lap and your posture perfect, Bradley can’t pretend he isn’t a little bit thrown off. It doesn’t change anything.

Sex and curiosity are natural forces, and neither one are something to be ashamed of. He feels like he’s convincing himself of that more than anything.

Your attention is caught by the light from the lamp catching on the gold of his necklace as he stands up a little straighter, and then promptly torn away as he pushes his jeans and boxers down in one slow movement. And there it is. In your peripheral, you’re expressly aware that it’s there, in all of its aggressiveness. You fight not to just stare.

Following the line down his sternum and across the taut, tanned skin of his stomach, across plains of soft brown hair, your eyes grow wide once again. Then, you squint. He watches you fight to control your expression.

The question is written, quite clearly, all over Bradley’s face. He’s wondering how you have managed to be in a relationship for as long as you have, without seeing a penis in the flesh. But you have. You’re not that naive — and Malcolm isn’t that pliant.

You inhale slowly, staring at what is directly in front of you. Bradley’s body is unassuming under those ill-fitting clothes, but not once he’s out of them. Far from it, in fact. Another time, you might have spent more time looking at the big picture, exactly how Herculean Bradley’s body looks. For now, it’s hard to focus on anything but what’s between his legs.

Bradley hasn’t ever felt this fidgety with his clothes off before. Your gaze on him makes him nervous — and that’s weird — he can’t remember the last time a woman made him nervous. Actually, he can, but that was a long time ago.

Your eyes look dark in the dim illusion of the dust-brushed lamp, and the streetlights outside. A thatch of neatly-trimmed dark hair sits across his pelvis, following down from the line of his navel, sitting perfectly between the two deep V’s that trail from his hips.

There’s a moment before you remind yourself to feel some shame in the unabashed way you’re staring at him like some kind of drooling loon. Blinking, you lift your chin and look him in the eye, pressing your thighs together.

He isn’t looking at you like there’s something wrong with you. After observing the almost perverse way you were studying him, he’s watching you with nothing in his eyes but faint amusement.

You know instantly that he wouldn’t hold this against you. Anything you chose to do, or not to do, he wouldn’t feel any differently about you either way. You’re certain. That doesn’t change anything. You sigh and lean back on your palms.

“You’re circumsized.” You note.

His mouth twitches as he pulls his jeans back up to cover himself again. “It was all the rage in ‘53.”

Your brows scrunch together just slightly, watching him buckle his belt. “You’re older than Sports Illustrated, you know that?”

Bradley seems to think for a moment. He can’t pretend to have been familiar with Sports Illustrated in his childhood more than seeing it being read by fathers of friends that he had.

“How do you know when that was? — Didn’t peg you as a fan.” Bradley reaches around you for his shirt.

“I wrote a piece on it in my Freshman year. It was my first Ivy League perfect score.” You tell him, but when he turns, you aren’t smiling. His mouth pulls down at the corners as he sinks fo his knees in front of you, brushing his fingers softly over your cheek. “My father tore it to shreds. He was so angry about what I had written.”

Bradley sets his shirt on the ground and squeezes your knee softly. “What was it about?”

“Daddy has been an investor in the magazine since 1961,” You explain to him, your mouth finally twitching up into a small, less-than-amused smile. Bradley’s thumbs circle soft patterns along your thighs. “I wrote a case study into the swimsuit issue, and the argument that it presents women as a product for consumption. He was furious. I thought he was going to throw his dinner at me.”

Bradley’s face changes. He doesn’t like the way you’re telling him this with a smile on your face. But, he isn’t going to start an argument about your father tonight.

“Which side of the argument did your essay fall on?” He asks, lifting his chin to look at you. You smile at him, and shrug your shoulders.

“I thought it was a dirty magazine then, I think that it’s a dirty magazine now.”

Bradley huffs out a small sound of amusement and lets his head fall forwards to rest against your knee. “One of these days, I’m going to get a real answer out of you. You know that?”

He wants to know more, and the idea for once doesn’t terrify you. Your mouth tugs at a smile as he kisses your leg softly.

“Will you still stay tonight?” You ask him, lifting your chin to look up at his face. He makes a soft sound of consideration, then pulls a face. “Please?”

“Okay.”

It’s strange, and you know that Bradley would think so, that you have never shared a bed with a man overnight before. Back in Ithaca, you’ve got a spacious off-campus room in a three bedroom apartment that your father pays for and never visits. Malcolm could stay over ever night for all anyone else knows.

But, you have never invited him to.

It would be cruel to make Bradley sleep in his clothes, you know that too. So, when you come back from the bathroom with the taste of peppermint toothpaste on your tongue, and slip into bed beside him, you try to be prepared for it.

It’s not so bad. It’s a mild night, the window is cracked and there’s a chilled breeze passing through the room. Bradley’s bare arm is warm as yours grazes it. Reaching out blindly, you flick the bedside lamp off without opening your eyes.

Beside you, Bradley’s mouth pulls at the corners.

“Are you going to stay over there all night?” He asks into the dark. He hears you fidget, your skin brushing against the sheets.

“Yeah.”

He snorts a soft chuckle and turns onto his side, draping a heavy arm across your middle, curling his fingers around your hip. Your muscles spasm and your middle goes rigid as he drags you unceremoniously closer to him, leaving you with no choice but to consider how he feels without his clothes on.

Arms straight, practically statuesque, your attempts to remain still fail as the knuckle of your ring and little fingers graze the white cotton of his boxers.

His warm breath fans across your shoulder as he pulls you closer, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. “Relax, honey. It’s just me.”

His palm splays open across your front, his bare chest firm against your back. Calvin Klein white cotton boxers are loose, and breathable, and through the dark your mind instantly takes you back to what you saw earlier.

Wetting your lips with your tongue, you close your eyes and will yourself to settle. Behind you, Bradley doesn’t seem to be having the same struggle. You can hear his breathing growing deeper, his weight leaning into you just a little more.

The Polaroid picture. His thick thighs bracketing Natasha’s naked chest. Her lips parted into a perfect circle. You think of how he made you feel earlier, him grunting into your skin as his hand worked under the thick denim of his jeans.

“Why’s your heart beating like that?” Bradley mumbles into the curve of your neck, practically making you jolt out of your skin against him. “Hey, hey… are you alright?”

His hand strokes softly at your arm as he lifts his head and tries to lean forward to get a peek at your face.

“Mhm,” You squeak softly, closing your eyes and pressing back against him. “I’m fine. Goodnight.”

His lips quirk through the dark of the room as he hugs his arm tight around your middle, turning his face into your skin and kissing softly at your neck.

You don’t wake with the sunrise, or with the sound of an alarm. Instead, you wake with a tingling in your legs, and skin against your cheek. Your thigh is slotted between Bradley’s, he’s got one arm cradling you to him, and he’s snoring softly in your ear.

Even with a soft groan, and the attempt to stretch your arms, Bradley doesn’t budge. His warm chest rises and falls against your cheek, the smell of his skin drawing you in like a lullaby. Sleep threatens to come for you again, but you can hear birds chirping. It’s got to be time to get up soon.

He must be on the verge of consciousness himself, hugging you closer, turning his nose toward your hair, nuzzling into your skin.

“Bradley?” You hum. Nothing but birds chirping, breeze from the city outside. “Bradley?” As you nudge him, there’s nothing again.

Pushing against his chest, you wriggle free of his grasp and prop yourself on your palm. He blinks, face pulling into a frown as he lifts his head to look around him.

“What’s up? — What time is it?” He mutters, his voice deep with sleep as his brown eyes try to focus through the morning light. You don’t know, and you make no effort to check. Instead, you lean forwards and kiss his lips. One soft peck, your palm bracing against the hot muscle of his chest.

He hums out a pleased noise, following you onto your back and pressing his weight against you, challenging you with a deeper kiss. Bradley kisses you again, just as soft. Building into it with gradually modern generous pecks. His hands bunch at your nightgown, taking advantage of his new shorter length to shove it up around your waist without issue.

Suddenly, it doesn’t matter what time it is anymore. Or that he never rejoined the group last night. Nothing matters but the way his weight feels on top of you, his warmth grounding you into the mattress, his taut stomach pressing against your soft skin as he slots his thigh between yours.

There’s something familiar about it, creeping at you like a chill. His hands are strictly stuck to the safest parts of your body: your thighs, your waist, your face. He’s kissing you so passionately that you’re dizzy with the sense of him, and he’s so gentle with his hands — but there’s a discomfort itching at you that just won’t leave.

Then, the alarm clock on the bedside table rings out loud. He pulls back with a soft breath.

“I… I should go.” He realizes, trying not to commit too much attention to his half-hard cock pressing into your thigh. You swallow softly, trying to do exactly the same.

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you this afternoon.” He presses one more chaste kiss to your lips. As he busies himself with getting dressed, you’re certain that you should be overcome with shame of the things you’ve gotten up to so far. The feeling just doesn’t come. Some grand delay, or perhaps you’ve turned a page, but you can’t find it in you to mind either.

The itinerary for the day is changed by Natasha’s sudden appearance, just like everything else has been. With her and Doctor Mancini being in town, Bradley seemed to think that their insight would be useful for the group. As he walks into the lobby ten minutes later than he should be and spots her standing with her arms folded, looking at you like dirt on her shoe, he starts to think that he was wrong.

“Ah, here he is! — Good Morning, Bradley.” Pasquale greets with a grin, patting Bradley’s shoulder as the professor joins the group. “Well, we’ve already gone over the briefing and we’ve got a lot to see today. Let’s get going!”

Bradley agrees with a nod and gestures for the group to walk ahead of him. The sun is already high in the sky and warming the city, the breeze is slow today, barely there. It’ll be worse when they move further inland after this.

He pushes one hand into his pocket and sweeps his damp curls back with the other. Ray-Ban caravans and a t-shirt that would only fit right if he was a size bigger, sports socks peeking over the top of his eye tops. He dresses younger than thirty-three and he’s always been gorgeous.

Natasha walks by his side, staring at the back of your head with contempt. Cute outfit you’re wearing. She wonders if the man who put a ring on your finger would like it.

“So, did you take her virginity?” She asks coolly, meaning it with every ounce of venom with which she had spit it. She hadn’t really taken great comfort in hearing the way your peers had mocked you last night. Just because you apparently won’t put out for you fiancé, doesn’t mean you are immune to Bradley’s charms.

“No.” He answers, lengthening his stride. He doesn’t care to learn which one of them told her about you.

“This is a new low. I can’t believe you’re being this stupid.” She shakes her head, crossing her arms firmly over her chest as she walks.

All at once, Bradley stops walking and rounds on her. She wobbles, her expensive loafer dipping between the cobbled floor and making her wobble. “Me? — What the fuck were you trying to pull with those pictures?”

When he’s up close, standing under the summer sun and staring at her, it’s so easy to pretend. Looking into his eyes, he never hurt her. She never hurt him. She’s still his girl, they’re still planning to spend the afternoon laying in bed, reading.

It’s the only time that she doesn’t miss him.

“You know how this goes. Things in Como — we didn’t — I had more that I needed to say.” Bradley leaves every year hating himself for letting her get away, and it’s the only thing that brings her solace. She’s just supposed to watch him move on?

“That’s your problem, Nat, you don’t know how to talk to me until we’re naked. This isn’t healthy.” He bites back, unfazed as a crowd of Belgian tourists turn to stare wide eyed at the two of them.

“Don’t tell me what’s healthy, Bradley, you’re fucking one of your students!” She snaps, her voice practically a low snarl. Still, she has the decency to have lowered her voice. He forgets — she’s classy now.

“I’m not fucking her.” Bradley, truthfully, doesn’t have a leg to stand on. You tried to sleep with him and he told you no, but only because you weren’t ready. If you were, he can’t pretend that he wouldn’t have.

“Please. I saw the way you ran after her.”

“My sex life is none of your business. Does Luca know you’re here because I am? — Did he forgive you yet?” September through to May, Bradley thinks a lot about the time he spent loving Natasha. Guilt wracks his entire being. He finds himself furious for the time he cost her. And yet, standing in front of her, this conversation always winds up being the same.

Her eyes widen. He promised not to bring last summer up. Last august, when Bradley visited after his students went home, and Luca caught the two of them in bed together. He had almost left her.

“Does that poor little girl even kno—“

“Don’t call her that.” Bradley sighs, rolling his head back towards the old roofs and clear skies. The idea makes him so uncomfortable. It’s easy to forget, when he’s not looking at you in the backdrop of your college town, that you’re much younger.

“Does she know what a vindictive prick you can be, Bradley?”

Yes. She spent half of the trip so far arguing with me. Bradley doesn’t give her the real answer. He hasn’t in a long time. There’s a pause between the two of them. Venice doesn’t slow down for anyone. The city bustles around them while Bradley turns his gaze back down towards her.

“I’m sorry. You know that I’m sorry.” He says quietly. She stares at him. He can see it in her face that she’s fighting not to stand and scream. Instinct drives him forwards. It’s muscle memory as he reaches out and takes her face in his hands. “But we can’t keep doing this.”

Her jaw flexes against his palms, anger burning through her the way that smoke fills rooms. Effortless, all-encompassing. Hard to stop.

“You should tell her now,” Natasha practically spits the words towards him. She doesn’t pull away from his touch. She only ever has once. She, one day, will again. She’s sure of that much. “That it’s always on your fucking terms. Give her a chance to get out while she fucking can.”

With that, she pulls away from him and yet again, he watches her go.

Bradley keeps his distance. He watches Doctor Mancini, a man who knows exactly who Bradley is and somehow, loves him even after, teach the class all morning. He doesn’t dare look at you, in those short, rolled up blue Levi’s shorts. Not until that afternoon, once you’re tucked away into a quiet study room in the Marciana Library.

You sit opposite him with one knee bent and your foot resting on the edge of your own chair, watching him quizzically. “Are you going to be this quiet all afternoon?”

He shoots a look across at you, his chin resting on his palm. Then, he looks back down to his work silently.

“Fine, I guess I’ll fail.” You huff playfully, sitting back in your chest and crossing your arms over your chest. This time when he looks, his eyes flicker down to your chest in that cute green tank top. He knows you’re taunting him. “It’s a real shame… to have come this far, and to just be abandoned…”

“Cut it out.” Bradley scoffs, taking his glasses off and dropping them into the centre of his page. He turns in his seat and looks across at you, suddenly cold.

“Alright, say what you want to say. The anticipation is killing me.” Your mouth twitches into a grin as you sit upright in your seat, scooting it across the aged wood to grow closer. He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek, the sun shining through the light blue fabric of his linen shirt as he stretches his arms up and rubs harshly at his face.

“There’s something I need to tell you — something I did,” When he drops his arms down again, his eyes are focused on the chip in the years old floorboard, his fingers curling around your knee. You’ve never seen him this remorseful. “I want you to hear it from me.”

Blinking, you nod at him. You’ve never seen him look quite so scared.

“When we met, Natasha and I were both twenty-two. I was fresh out of the Navy, and Natasha was in her last year of university here,” He hasn’t ever been this fidgety before. He stares at the floor of the library, like his sole purpose is to count the grains in the wood. The sole of his sneaker taps out of rhythm.

Opposite him, you wonder exactly how his brain operates. There’s no need, really, for him to explain himself to you. Tomorrow, you’ll leave Venice and you will probably never see Natasha again. Yet, he seems to really want you to understand.

“She was one of the only people in town that spoke English, and she lived right downstairs. For the first two months, she just let me follow her around — I didn’t know what else to do,” There’s no way on Earth that Bradley can explain to you the way that he was feeling when he first got to Sorrento.

He was twenty-two, he had just left the Navy. His grandmother had died three weeks earlier. He was alone in the world, with no idea what to do with the rest of his life. He was angry that he had made it back from the war — furious that he had served for a further two years after that.

“She pulled some favours for me, I spent six months taking different classes around the country, trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. Came back, and decided that I wanted to do with mine, whatever she was doing with hers.” The more he tells you, the more you can feel his guilt dripping through his words and saturating the air.

The room goes thick with quiet as Bradley sweeps his curls back and tousels his fingers through them. His hands can’t seem to find peace, never stilling as he immediately sits back to dip a hand into his pocket and reach for his cigarettes.

This is the kind of situation that requires you to be quiet, you know that much. It’s not of conversation. He’s clumsy enough with his words, stumbling through them, losing his train of thought, that you don’t dare interrupt. You watch him pluck one from the pack and set the rolled stick between his lips.

Flicking open the top of his silver lighter, he ignites the end and inhales. Briefly, his eyes flicker up to yours. He hates talking about this.

“She wanted to be an archeologist. I was more into the literature side of things, but it worked. We connected. We moved in together three weeks after I got back.” He tells you. You give him a small nod. It ticks over into the afternoon, and behind you a church bell starts to ring loudly.

He clears his throat, “But her father was paying for all her studies, her rent — everything. On the condition that when she was done studying, she would come back home and she would marry whoever he told her to marry. So, then she started her masters, and she was going to get a PHD. It felt like that day wasn’t coming.”

Bradley spares you of the details. How much he loved her, loved their life together. The lemon tree in the courtyard behind their apartment, and the way the sun cast shadows across their bed in the early morning. The way Natasha would smile at him.

“Until she was about to finish her PHD, and her dad says he picked a guy, and a date, and a venue for the wedding. Only — I had proposed first. We were engaged, and… as far as I saw it, we were just waiting until she graduated to tell her father.”

He proposed to her. They were engaged. Somehow, you just can’t picture it. You can’t picture the cynical fate-denier in front of you getting down on one knee and asking the woman that he loved to spend the rest of her life with him. The revelation draws nothing but a deep breath from you.

That’s not how it went, anyway. He didn’t have an expensive diamond, he didn’t get down on one knee and propose in front of your entire family. The two of them didn’t celebrate with champagne in crystal glasses. The way Bradley proposed was nothing like the way Malcolm had.

No, Bradley had proposed without a ring, laying in the grass in the park near their home. She had been laying in his lap and reading to him. He thinks about that day often.

“She didn’t see it the same way?”

Bradley rubs a rough hand across his jaw and closes his eyes for a moment. Even now, with the power of hindsight on his side, he doesn’t understand why she couldn’t just see it the same way he did. He had done it all alone. She wasn’t even willing to try.

“It’s a hard field to break into, especially if you can’t support yourself. There isn’t always a lot of money in it. She made the decision without me, and I was angry. She was going to marry this stranger, live off of her father’s money for just a little longer… then, we could be together.” Bradley scoffs almost bitterly and pinches at the bridge of his nose, like it gives him a headache just to remember.

“So… what did you do?” Whatever it was, it can’t have been that bad. You’ve seen the way she looks at him. He lifts his chin, takes the cigarette from between his lips, and looks at you.

His shoulders are heavy, his lips downturned. He looks older when he’s serious like this, more mature. He inhales deeply, and follows it with a burdened exhale. Ash from his cigarette falls to the floor, settling in the space between his sneakers.

“She was at the beach one morning, and someone knocked at the door, so I answered it,” He answered wearing nothing but a pair of still wet shorts, dusted with sand and saturated with salt water from his swim, his towel draped over his shoulder. He had gotten home a few minutes before, he had a class to get to later. “It was her father, looking for her. He freaked out when he saw me, asking who I was. I told him.”

He sets the cigarette back between his lips and inhales deeply. Your nose wrinkles at the smell of smoke filling the room.

“…You told him what?”

“I told him everything,” Bradley’s voice is quiet now, so filled with shame that the weight is dragging his words down. “That we had been living together for four years by then, that she wasn’t ever planning on coming home. It wasn’t my place. I could have lied, but I didn’t want to.”

You close your eyes for a moment, and think of your father. Of what would happen if he ever found out that you let Bradley spend a night in your bed. Then, you swallow softly and bite at the inside of your cheek. “What did he do?”

Bradley swallows thickly. It feels so much worse to say it out loud. “He never spoke to her again.”

There’s no real answer to grace him with. For certain, you know that your father never would have spoken to you again. You know that he would cost you everything, just like he had her. He seems to think that you would like to know more — your silence makes him start to tap his foot again.

“She married the guy, she dropped out of school, she left me, but it was too late. Her father was just angry at us for lying to him. He… died last May.”

Pressing your lips together, you exhale through your nose and blink at him. “He didn’t speak to his own daughter for four years?”

“I cost her the rest of her time with her father, and the career she could have had — because she was going to leave me.” There it is; what he was so ashamed of. The admission of guilt. Purpose in what he had said to her father.

Still, there’s something that makes you scoot forwards, the wooden legs of the chair scraping across the floor as your hand reaches out and your fingers curl softly around his wrist, “You didn’t know that he would react that way.”

Bradley stubs the cigarette out on the back of the lighter and sets it down. He leans in close, his knee setting between yours, his eyes growing warmer as he leans in. “No, but I knew it would hurt her and I did it anyway.”

You let him stay just as close. The cigarette smell lingers between the two of you. The sunlight catches that diamond on your finger and his gaze flickers downwards briefly. When he looks back up, you’re as serious as he has seen you, with none of the anger that usually accompanies it.

“I understand.” Your nails are a pretty blush colour, perfectly polished. They look out of place tucked into his large palm, your thumb stroking across the back of his hand. His eyes search across your face, his brows drawing slightly together.

“Which part?”

“I understand why you wanted to hurt her. I get why she wants to hurt you,” You tell him, the smell of his cologne lingering between the two of you, willing you to ignore the smell of the burnt tobacco. You close his fingers around yours, holding his hand between both of yours. “We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of.”

It’s all true, every word of it. But it’s deceptive nonetheless. If Bradley had ever tried to ruin you the way he did to her, you’re certain you wouldn’t treat him with the same kind of kindness that Natasha does.

Bradley hums softly. The late June heat settles between the two of you, prickling at the back of your neck. Reaching down, his fingers curl around the leg of your chair, dragging it closer again. His knee sits between yours.

Your mouth twitches, hinting at a smile as he leans in close and swipes his thumb across the bone of your jaw.

“You feel like getting dinner with me tonight, honey?”

…

Tags: @thedroneranger @batdanceq @cassiemitchele @himbos-on-ice @wkndwlff @bradshawsbaby @damrlova @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @sihtricswife @callsignvenus @callsign-joyride @harper1666 @krismdavis @sheisanangell @thecitysgraveyard @sugarcoated-lame @kmc1989 @cherrycola27

[billzoned]

i met gnf last summer and he intertwined our fingers and its all i’ve thought about since

idk if ur taking requests but maybe if u wanna write smth abt george gently holding ur hands while tapping it not so gently.. 👀 just a suggestion hehe love ur work

THE WAY I ACTUALLY SCREECHED, THANK U!!?? ur so luckyyy shsjsh. thank u sm for the request btw!!

ps. i went a bit overboard...

ps. #2, ill admit, i literally spent over 2 days constantly on janitor ai talking to nsfw bots trying to improve my smut...erm. we dont talk about that!! :3

desc. afab! reader x cc! george. 1.07k words.

barely proofread — nsfw under cut.

you've lost count how many times george had made you cum in the past twenty minutes. your legs shook violently as you came undone again and again.

he was in between your legs, circling his tongue around your painfully sensitive clit, and he had his fingers pumping in and out of your dripping wet cunt for god knows how long. "missed the taste of you. s'good" he says, words muffled by your thighs closing around his head. and of course, that familiar euphoric feeling of your abdomen tightening was coming near.

until it stopped. george stopped his pleasuring movements abruptly. you barely even noticed when the tip of george's cock was prodding at your entrance. he reached for your hand and intertwined your fingers together before roughly pushing into you.

"f-uck!!" you moan out, before george starts to move slowly. though, that pace didnt last. before long he was thrusting into you erratically, nipping and kissing the flesh of your neck. his own moans and whimpers were slipping out, he missed you too much.

before long there were strings of moans falling from your lips as george keeps up his pace, brushing against the spot that makes your eyes roll and start seeing white. "yes- yes, fuck! such a good girl f'me. taking me so well." george groans as he pulls you closer to him, lifting your hips a little so he could reach deeper into you.

you had completely forgotten that dream and sapnap were out; they both went to the store, and at any time could open the door and see the both of you on the couch. in a way, it made you a bit more aroused thinking that they could walk in. you tightened around george, meanwhile you were looking at the door and remembering that they have been out for a little bit already. george, being aware, noticed.

"what? hm? you want my best friends to walk in? seeing you get fucked?" he laughs teasingly as he stops his movements and pulls out of you. he then pulls you closer to him before sliding back into you, deeper than before. "you want your boyfriend's two best friends to watch you get fucked by me? or do you want 'em to join in, hm?" he leans down to whisper in your ear as both of your fingers are still intertwined together.

you let out an almost embarrassing whiny moan at the thought, especially with him mentioning it. your eyes roll back into your skull and your back arches off of the couch "mm. yeah you do." he mocks you, his voice in a teasingly whiny voice. it wasn't very long until george hit the sensitive point inside of you dead on. your head falls back into the cushion of the couch the two of you rest on.

your climax was coming, and it was coming quick. george could feel how close you were getting, since your cunt was erratically squeezing around him so much. he took his hand off of your waist and used his now free hand to lightly fondle your breasts, lightly squeezing at your nipple before trailing his hand up to wrap around your throat.

"please, pl-ease! can i cum- i need t'cum." you whine as a small line of drool starts to trail down the side of your mouth. he pretended to think for a moment. "hm.. do you- mm- really deserve it?" he leans down and whispers into your ear. "tell me, pretty girl. do you deserve it?" a small smirk plays on his lips as he awaits your response.

"eeh!- yes, yes, 've been a good girl! 'lease let me cum," you beg.

george lifts himself back up before letting go of your throat and bringing his hand down to circle your sensitive clit. "huh... i think you can hold out a bit longer, cant you?" you were barely sure that you could, considering the speed his fingers were going. but you nod anyway, praying that you could hold back. "yeah.. good girl."

he decides to speed up his thrusts a bit, just to put you on edge; slowing the pace of his fingers just a little bit. his mouth curls up into a nearly sadistic smile as he watches you writhe beneath his grasp. he watches several headlights go past the window through the curtains, knowing well that one of them could be dream and sapnap. he focuses back onto you rolling his eyes at your needy whines and whimpers.

"let go, cum for me. be a good little whore and cum for me." as if on cue your body shakes violently as your cunt spasms around george. you let out a silent moan as you reach your climax. george grunts as he feels himself getting close as well, quiet whimpers falling from his lips.

soon enough, his seed spilled into you as he slowed the movements of his hips. "ooh- fuck." he groans, feeling the aftermath of his orgasm. before long he eventually pulled out, seeing his cum quickly running out of you and some spilling onto the couch; a stain he knew he would have to explain to his best friends later.

"did so good for me." he praised before leaning down to you and pulling you into a quick messy kiss. "be right back, baby." he says, looking down at your fucked out expression.

he quickly returns after walking away to get a wet wash cloth and wiped all of the excess cum off of you. noticing your tired look, your eyes already closed, he picks you up as gently as he can manage, and brings you to his room and lays you onto his bed. he covers you with a blanket and lightly kisses your cheek before going to try his best to clean off the (obvious) stain on the couch before the others come home.

right as he was finishing wiping it off the best he could, he saw the headlights of sapnap's car bleeding through the curtains. he hurriedly finished up and sprinted to his room.

the front door opened before shutting quite loudly, the voices of sapnap and dream joking barely audible from his room. he heard dream talking to sapnap as he walked to his room before shutting the door.

it wasn't long until he heard sapnap yell from downstairs. "george, where the hell did this stain come from?!"

uh oh.

1K WORDS HOORAY!! first time ive ever officially written that much :3 i also apologize for the slight delay!! ive been WAYYY to caught up with school :c

[sturniozo]

Our Lips Are Sealed VIII

The car ride was long and silent. Nate stared daggers at Chris almost the whole ride there. Chris however, kept his hand around my waist acting as my seatbelt as I sat on his lap.

Now here we all stand in awkward silence, unpacking the car together. I check off my list during the process of unpacking. The cooler by the picnic table, the tents set up each in one campground, everyone having their own belongings and necessities.

Nate does everything he can to keep me away from Chris. Every time Chris comes back over to the car, Nate’s there to hand him something to take to the other end of the campground.

I roll my eyes at the very last ill-fated attempt to get Chris away from me. The very last bag. The random utilities that Chris sets on the picnic table. He looks up and smiles at me, beginning to walk over my way before Nate stops him.

“What is it this time?” Chris asks, annoyed.

“We still have to put the tents up.” Nate says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What, all two of them?” Chris laughs. “Can’t we take a short break and grab a drink first?”

“The faster we get it done the faster we can get this weekend started.”

“Technically the weekend has already started.”

“That's even more of a reason to get this done.”

Nate and Chris both take a step towards each other, each glaring daggers into the other’s soul.

“Okay,” Matt buts in, “put the rulers away. We’re here for Y/N, not to argue.”

“He started it.” Chris says, turning around and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, cos if there’s one thing about Y/n, it's that she loves childish men.” Matt mutters.

My face begins to turn red from blush as I turn around, pretending to have not been paying attention to the whole argument. I begin to take the tent out of the bag. Before I even realize what’s going on, the tent and bag are taken out of my hands.

“You really think we’re gonna let you do any work on your birthday weekend?” Nate says with a laugh.

“Go sit and relax, we’ll do this.” Matt says as he starts reading the instructions.

“I’m scared that if you guys put up the tent we’ll all end up sleeping in the grass.” I reach for the tent, which Nate holds away from me. “What if it rains?”

“Guess we’d have to cuddle up under the picnic table.” Chris shrugs.

“We’re not doing that.” Nate says.

“Yeah, Chris kicks in his sleep.” Matt adds.

“It;s not his kicking that makes me against it.” Nate mutters under his breath. “Y/n. Go sit with mom. Let the men handle this.”

“You guys aren’t men.” I retort. “You’re boys who don’t know what they're doing.”

“I do this every year.” Nate scoffs.

“No, I do this every year.” I correct him. “You usually go off and fuck around while Mom and I do everything.”

Nate rolls his eyes. “Whatever. This year is different.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Cos I said it is.” Nate unrolls the tent in the air, causing all the stakes and poles to go flying. Chris grabs my arm, pulling me away from the stake about to hit me in the head.

“Watch out, you almost hit Y/n!” Matt says.

“This is why I do this every year.” I start picking up the tent stakes and poles off the ground. “Let me do this. At least I know what I’m doing.”

I take the tent away from Nate. I lay it flat on the ground, unfolding it and putting the stakes through the holes in each corner. Chris stands behind me as I hammer the stake into the ground.

“Are you just going to stare at me?” I ask with a laugh.

“Would you even let me help?” Chris asks, matching my laugh while he speaks.

“ No.”

“Then I’m just going to stare at you.” Chris smiles at me.

I roll my eyes and move on to the poles, pushing them through the slots on the outside of the tent. I look up and see Chris’s gaze once again.

“Why don’t you go unpack everything with mom and the guys?” I ask.

“I wouldn’t be a man if I left you all alone over here. What if you hurt yourself somehow?” He says.

“I’ll get a bandaid.”

Chris laughs and walks over to the other side of the tent, slipping the pole through the slot. “It’s faster with two people.”

“No, it's faster with two competent people.” I reply.

I step back. Tent one complete. Now for the big one the guys and I will share.

“Are you sure you don’t want any help?” Chris asks.

I sigh. “I might need some.”

Chris smiles as he moves the bag with the big tent to our campsite, just across from my mom’s.

“Wanna check out the beach after this?” Chris asks.

“Maybe.” I shrug. I unzip the tent bag.

“Come on, it’ll be fun. We’ll relax on some tube floaties and build sand castles and tan and-”

“Tanning’s actually really bad for your skin.” I cut him off.

“Fine, we won’t tan, and we’ll wear plenty of suncream.” He crosses his arms over his chest again. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“It depends on when we finish this.”

“Well, it should be fast with the both of us working together.”

NATE’S POV

“Dude, are you even listening?” Matt asks. I turn my attention from my best friend hitting on my little sister, to my other best friend.

“What’d you say?” I ask.

Matt shakes his head. “You have got to stop trying to kill Chris.”

“I’m not trying to kill Chris.” I laugh.

“In your head you are, I bet you killed him over and over in your imagination just staring at him now.”

“He doesn’t need to hit on her all the time. She’s not even 18 yet.” I say, leaning back against the picnic table.

“Dude, we’re about to turn 20, I don’t think it’s that big of a deal.” Matt laughs.

“It is to me. She’s my sister, and he’s one of my best friends. He shouldn't hit on her, or even like her like that.” I huff. “Remember when he only thought of her as a sister?”

“We all think of her like that.” Matt says.

“No, Chris doesn’t. Not anymore. He hasn’t for the past two years.”

“It’s not like he’s made a move on her.”

“And if he knows what’s good for him, he never will.”

“Dude, don’t talk like that! Chris is your best friend.”

“Yeah, and as his best friend, I know exactly how he thinks. He’s not gonna do to Y/N what he’s done to countless other girls.”

“Chris cares about Y/N, you know he’d never hurt her.” Matt assures me.

“I still don’t want them together!”

“Why not, they’d be good together.” Matt shrugs.

“No.” I sit up.

“Why not?” Matt laughs. “She likes him, he likes her-”

“She likes him?” My head snaps to Matt. “What do you mean?”

Matt laughs. “Come on, bro, you know she likes him.” He gestures to them, setting up the tent together.

I look back at them. The prominent smile on her face. The blush on her cheeks as Chris says something to her. “No.” I shake my head. “Y/N has better taste than that.”

“Evidently not.” Matt laughs.

I glare at Chris once again. How can he do this? How can he be in love with my little sister? Her, of all the girls in Boston. In the world. He chooses my little sister.

My glare then shifts to Y/N. How can she choose my best friend? Out of all the guys, all of them could treat her better than Chris has ever treated a girl before. I expected her to have better taste. I wanted her to have no taste.

“How can she like him?” I ask Matt.

Matt just shrugs. “Who knows.”

TAGS: (tell em if you want added or removed please) @urfavpouge @savageking3 @tastesousweet @jko3005 @sturniolo0ntop @dwalk41202 @stvrnise @iloveneilperry @luvmxtt @blueeyedbesson @iloveurgf @mattswifr @that-chris-girl01 @sturniolhoe @remussbitch @chrisstankyleg @jetaimevous @bernardenjoyer @sturniolosreads @mbbsgf @xxsadlovexx @whicked-hazlatwhore @sturnsgirl @keira324 @stuniolobbg @timmyscomputer @meg-sturniolo @sturnioloenthusiast @nickdevora @hearts4chriss @carolinalikesthings @mattscokewhore @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07 @freshloveforthefit

[hyqerfixation]

WAITER SAT AT THE TABLE

-art by ringorenji88 on twitter.

OKKK YAKUZA PILLARS WE LOVE..

Kny boys Drabble NOT FINISHED..

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

"oh shit for real? The pillars are here!? " the pianist asked in shock

"yeah u can see them in the vip seating on the other side of the casino"

"oh for fuck sakes, another fight is probably gonna happen some time soon. "

"you bet"

After hearing the two colleagues gossip Y/n placed her old hairbrush back into her bag.

“What the fuck are pillars?” Y/n thought.

The strip club was definitely something,a popular angle wing in the outskirts of the city of japan

But how could she describe this club?

Utter shit

Female hookers only had a little bit to get ready for their customers, and the bartenders had even less time to change into their uniforms and set the stools down before the casino gets ready

Too add on, the club didn't have a wonderful dressing room for performers to get "all dolled up," as many owners put it, so she dressed up in the ladies employees restroom as long with her female colleagues.

____________________________________________

"HELP Y/N I CANT ZIP MY DRESS UP AND I HAVE TO GO OUT ANY MINUTE!"

"ume calm down jesus fucking crist, Turn around ill do the zip."

Y/N zipped up the performers outfit, which was way more flashier then her skutty uniform.

"daki ur late ur supposed to be on stage letter A right now!"

Another performer exclaimed, rushing daki out of the females room.

"OKAY OKAY I'M COMING ALRIGHT" daki turned around to y/n who was also supposed to be out on her shift right now.

"LET'S MEET UP LATER MM K?"

Y/N sighed lightly while giving a suttle smile

"sure" y/n replied on her way to follow daki to the exit.

Y/n exited the bathroom, leaving her aftershow clothes in on the bathroom sink as long as her bag, and began shifting her fingerless gloves.

“I should’ve pretended to sick today smh” she thought.

"hey y/n! What's up w being late all the time. We could've had a smoke break together."

"i would of been here five minutes ago but I was helping your sister "

Y/ns workmate, also known to be gyutaro rolled his eyes as he gave y/n her note pad and biro pen.

"whatever dude, but come tell me when your on your next break so we can go smoke mm k?"gyutaro said

Y/N waved him goodbye as she slowly walked away.

"we could've talked longer if u came on the right fucking time."

"mm k!" y/n mimicked, taking notes how the siblings act like each other.

Y/N walked out of the bar counter and pushed a stool aside her to continue on to taking orders.

Yet while she looked around she noticed all her work mates avoided the back left,also known as the more "mightier side". Was there someone big there? But if it was someone famous there wouldn't everyone be offering to take their order?

It didn't make sense.

Y/N walked towards to back without a ponder. There wasn't anyone to take the people's orders since the waiters scurried to take their orders, as if they were avoiding a certain table.

'whatever this is; i need that bag, so I guess I'm just going to have to deal with whatever hits me.' y/n thought.

High heels clanked on the ground while y/n search for a table to assist, only for-

"y/n! Y/n!"

She turned around.

"sasumaru? What's up with you?"

Sasumaru was one of y/ns closet friends at the casino, besides the siblings. She wanted to be a volley ball player but failed at everything ever since she was put under house arrest.

"I'm begging you to do that vip table! All of us are to scared to do it!"

"Well why, its not like they are gonna try to kill u for getting their order wrong."

Sasumaru laughed sarcastically

"they tried to kill yahaba because he asked if they wanted ice in their drink!" sasumaru exclaimed, rocking y/n back and fourth by the collar.

"whatever, I'll do it" y/n dead panned

"Are u so sure after hearing what I just told u!" sasumaru panicked even more

"yes it's fine I'll just do what they say, no questions, no ice."

Sasumaru stopped and starred at y/n

"Now will you let me go?" y/n asked.

"AAAAA UR SO COOL Y/N!!! SO BRAVE TOO, JUST LIKE ME"

Y/N pulled sasumaru off her and continued to walk to the vip room

'if u were brave like me, u would be walking to the vip lounge' y/n giggled to her self.

"hey babe what's ur number?"

"look at the fat in her back!"

"I would smack that"

Y/N grumbled to her self about these comments, much to her dismay shes pretty much used to the cat calling here. The manager doesn't really give a shit about the treatment his female employees get here.

'tch, whatever. Fucking saddos'

Y/N walked to the vip table, no in closer inspection she saw a group of men.

Rich men.

Rich and powerful men.

How could y/n tell they were powerful? Doesn't the silent tables of men around them tell you enough? What about the employees refusing to serve any where over here? Is that enough?.

"what could I get for you guys" y/n asked carefully, remembering what happend to yahaba.

"finally someone flashy to help us order!" one of the men said. His hair silver white with magenta eyes that popped. Jewellery coated his body with a expensive tuxedo.

"can I please just have some water? I hope that's okay." the other man said, he was way more bigger then the others and had a red beaded necklace on, his eyes were-wait, is he blind?

"CAN I PLEASE HAVE SOME HOT WINGS" a booming voice asked, his eyes were orange and red, matching with his hair.

"shut the fuck up Kyojuro. I want a sex on the beach cocktail" another white haired male asked, his appearance way more scary then the others with his scars that show from his face to where the tuxedo is undone to show more scars.

"I want the same as sanemi!" the male from the start exclaimed again.

Y/N noted all of these

"anything else?"

"how about you darling?" the flashy man asked. y/n internally screamed inside.

"can uzui shut his mouth for ten seconds" the man known as uzui smacked the scar face beside him while the others laughed.

Y/N walked away when they finished their order.

Okay! Maybe they are a little bit imtimidating.

Yeah, especially when she realised she saw them on the news for murder half way through their order.

But it's fine. It won't bother her THAT badly. Would it?.

"what's up with you? You are all shaken up."

"I just realised I was taking the fucking pillars orders"

"Are you fucking stupid? Everyone knew that's why they stayed closer to the entrance."

Y/N clicked her tounge, she knew that she was stupid but she Just wanted some more money! Cut her some slack!

"I did hear the pianist talk about it outside of getting changed. I didn't really deep much into it though."

Gyutaro placed the drinks on a round black tray along with some hot wings.

"I mean it's your problem now, and to be honest if they didn't like you, you would have been dead by now."

Y/N awkwardly smiled, knowing shes fucked.

"yeah yeah whatever."

She grabbed the tray and started to walk back towards the mobsters

I mean are they really mobsters? even though how imtimidating they were, they somewhat respected you.

They respected you way more then other people you are close with.

"look at her body."

"she's hot."

"yo guys should I ask for her number?"

At this point y/n couldn't even hear the things that were said about her. She was too focused about the men on the Vip table. Is she scared? Incredibly. Is she going to act like nothings bothered her about them? Yes. She is.

The platform heels platters the floor, alarming the men on the table.

"I see your back so soon"

The bling guy said, clasping his hands together.

"took her time didn't she." the scarface complained, tapping his finger on the table.

"don't be so rude sanemi."

" and how the fuck am I being rude?!?"

Y/N placed their drinks down, ignoring how her body's shaking from the pillars infront of her.

"so lady! How long have you been working here?"

Y/N paused at what she was doing and looked up to the fire head who just asked her a question.

"just under a year."

Kyojuro nodded and smiled

"that's nice, you look so young though how old are you?"

Sanemi who sat on the edge of the table hanged his leg out

"I bet not a day over 19"

Y/N chuckled lowly, letting her guard down

"I'm 23"

Uzui spat his drink out

"HUH"

Gyomei smiled towards y/n, he felt comfortable around her arua.

He couldnt explain it, she just seems nice to hang around with.

Y/N chuckled again

"do I really look that young? -"

"NO WAY UR MY AGE"

Uzui shouted light heartily, maybe he could have a 4th wife.

"how about she sits down with us? Since u guys are obsessing over her like bitchy dogs."

Sanemi complained, true they were acting like dogs, but he would be lying if he didn't want to talk to y/n too.

"that's not a bad idea!" Rengoku exclaimed while tengen patterned on the the sofa like chair in between him and Kyojuro.

"how about you sit here precious?"

Y/Ns face paled, does she have a choice? I mean she doesn't mind sitting between them she's just worried her boss would think she's slacking off again.

"don't force her, remember she has a job to do." gyomei said to the two, for sanemi to agree

"I'll pay her to sit with me, her job is to get money from customers right? Come sit down with us darling."

Uzui said, while rengoku took a few papers out of his wallet.

"It's fine if you don't want to! We will still pay for our drinks." Rengoku re assured y/n.

Y/N smiled softly, forgetting her worries about any of them.

"cmon girl they will be asking all night if u don't say anything." sanemi grumbled, embarrassed of the two weirdos on the table with him.

"sure.but not for to long"

"BETTER THEN NOTHING!" Rengoku shouted, for uzui to nudge sanemi to move for y/n to get in.

Sanemi stood up and put his hand on her shoulder.

"come on uzui we don't have all day."

"Sorry my fatass Is making it harder to get out, I know you can't relate sanemi" uzui chuckled to make sanemi embarrassed. Y/n chuckled lowly, just to embarrass him more.

"whatever, in you get girl"

Y/N nudged over to Kyojuro, only to smile at each other while ignoring gyomei telling uzui to not body shame anyone.

"It's not my fault he fails at squats" uzui said nudging over to sit next to y/n

Which made her sandwiched between two physco extroverts who wears expensive tuxedos

Nothing else could get worse then it already is.

"so pretty face, what's your name?" sanemi asked, fed up of the name calling.

"I bet her name is really cool!"

"I bet its something snazzy"

Gyomei took a sip of his water and looked over to y/n

"whatever her name is, it would be beautiful."

Y/N was going to answer sanemis question once she had some of uzuis drink, that he offered her.

"my name is -"

"Y/N."

[mothiepixie]

If I may, and if you haven’t answered it yet, how do all the boys react to Mottie being/getting sick?

Absolutely!! I hope you enjoy

Sans:

He knows something is off immediately; Maybe he hasn't gotten a call or a text like he's used to that day. He tries to think nothing of it but usually before noon he gets at least a text. He sends a quick meme that he knows would have her key smashing a reply, but he gets nothing. He lets it be and just figured she's busy, but when half the day has gone by that's when he decides to give a call.

The moment he hears her voice, he grimaces at how coarse it sounds. “geez, have you been chewing glass?” And he knows it's bad when she doesn't retort and just hears a quiet sigh.

“yeah, i agree.. not one of my best jokes… hang on, kiddo.” He doesn't give time for Motti to think and hangs up. He'll show up at her house with a bag full of soup and such. He's nonchalant about the hold thing, but he's pretty worried. He doesn't like that she barely responds.

He stays late making sure she's okay.

Boysen:

Their world isn't soft when it comes to caring for others. Boysen has different ways of showing affection, and only will get better in the later years that doesn't have to do with showering in gifts. And so, when Motti first gets sick he is concerned but he's also unsure what to do. He is a bit of a germaphobe and human sickness is always something that disgusts him.

So, there he stands at Motti's side; he has gloves on, clear up to his elbows, an apron while holding a tray of soup, juices and medicine. Through his mask, he tells her sternly that she's to finish it all and to shower after and he'll wash her clothes. She'll thank him and he just says “Don't thank me, just quit being diseased.”

Big Red:

He doesn't realize right away that Motti is sick, but when she blatantly tells him, he inwardly panics. He's reliving trauma from his younger years of when he,or Papyrus, was ill, and they had to hide it. Staying locked away or pretending they weren't weak in fear of someone coming for them at their worst.

He doesn't know how to react other than telling her she can't leave their house and to stay out of sight. It confuses her, and freaks her out a little, and Red gets more angry at himself for frightening her.

He barks at her to relax and obviously she can't now. So in frustration, he asks what she needs and he'll get it. He doesn't know how to take care of her needs since monster illnesses are different from humans, and he hates how he feels helpless.

Although there isn't much for him to do but watch her sniffle and hack her lungs out, he sulks and gets frustrated when she tries to do anything herself. “ya dont gotta get up, damn it! i'm right here!” And will grumble all the way to the kitchen.

Farmer:

It's nearly the crack of dawn when he gets a call from Motti. She can barely get a word out without going into a coughing fit. He hears her sniffling, but he cannot tell if it's because of her stuffy nose or she's crying.

“I'm so sorry, but can I ask you to take care of my animals for me?”

The cracking of her voice breaks his heart. “you never have to ask, peaches.”

He has the majority of her chores done before the sun even rises. Of course, Papyrus helped as well since he was already up, but he pushed Sans to go check on her frequently.

Homemade soup was brought over frequently and Farmer tells her about how sassy Creampuff has been since Motti has been bedridden. Farmer is a master at playing it cool, but when he goes home he lies in his bed worried about her. He doesn't like that she's alone and ill. He thinks about changing that.

Dream:

He senses it and will come to check on her. Although he's never been sick himself, he has felt it through millions of lives and knows just how miserable Motti is.

He is the best at taking care of her because he will know when the symptoms get worse or come back before she does. She'll wake up and he will be there with a glass of water and medicine, urging her to take it before her previous medicine fully wears off. She doesn't have to ask, seek or express her needs and Dream is there with whatever she requires.

With him being there also improves her mood and makes her feel better faster.

Cross:

He fumbles around the most when he realizes she is sick. “Oh whoa, okay. Let's get you to bed, yeah???” but he's quick to make sure she's taken care of. He feels a bit awkward and not sure what she needs so he looks up what's best for humans. But he also realizes humans can die (that's his fault for looking at webmd)

But he'll make chicken soup from scratch, and feed it to her. He doesn't like how miserable she sounds and he will pull her into his lap to let her rest against his chest. He doesn't know how else to help but feed her and comfort her. He's not a big fan of feeling helpless and secretly panicking that she has some terminal illness disguised as a cold.

Ink:

Unfortunately he doesn't really take care of Motti. He will hang around her and keep her company, maybe grab a few things for her here and there, but he's more interested in distracting her. If he drinks one of his vials, then the worry sets in and he comforts her.

Nightmare:

He will feed off her misery and surprisingly that makes her get well faster? Forces the others to take care of her though and gets agitated if they buffoon around. Ends up doing himself and snippily if anyone points it out.

[unclewaynemunson]

aight this is gonna get angsty

One morning Steve’s car won’t start when he has to get to work, so he calls Eddie to ask if he can give him (and Robin) a ride. Eddie, who knows a thing or two about cars, offers to try and fix the problem instead; it’s Saturday so he has nowhere else to be anyway. Eddie drives to the Harrington house and they swap keys. While Steve drives Eddie’s van into town, Eddie goes to work on Steve’s fancy car.

It doesn’t take long before one of the neighbors sees him: the infamous Munson boy, never up to any good, in the middle of Loch Nora, bent over a car that’s probably worth more than his own home. That can only mean one thing, right?

When the Hawkins police get a call from the concerned neighbor, they quickly get into action. Attempted car theft by the guy who already has a name for possessing various kinds of drugs, the guy whose father is behind bars for grand theft auto and arson? Doesn’t sound too far-fetched, and definitely sounds more exciting than the usual bar fights or property damage complaints that take up the majority of their jobs ever since the Upside Down has been defeated for good.

‘I wasn’t stealing his car, I was fixing it! I’m his friend,’ Eddie splutters when two cops forcefully push him against the side of the car, but they only laugh at that while they handcuff him.

‘Yeah, sure you are.’ Deputy Callahan utters a sharp laugh. ‘Steve Harrington’s friend, good one, freak.’

‘If you call Hopper -’

‘Chief's daughter is ill and we can do our jobs just fine without him. You’re coming with us, punk.’

Rationally, Eddie knows that it’ll all be sorted out in no time. He’ll be kept in detention at the station for a while, they’ll call Steve at Family Video, and Steve will probably lose his shit and get him out in no time. He knows that. But merely knowing it doesn’t help him when he’s all alone in a tiny cell with nothing but his thoughts. He had sworn to himself he wouldn’t end up like this - like his father. Yet here he is. Another Munson in jail for stealing cars. For stealing Steve’s car. How the hell could he ever have thought that he’d be good enough for someone like Steve?

By the time Steve gets to the station and his loud voice echoes through the hallways as he follows deputy Callahan to Eddie’s cell, inexhaustibly scolding the man, Eddie has already lost it completely. 

‘Fuck,’ Steve mumbles, his voice suddenly much softer, when he sees Eddie all folded into himself in the corner of the cell, his arms wrapped around his pulled-up legs and his cheeks wet with tears.

As soon as the cell door opens, he rushes over to Eddie and kneels down in front of him, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other on his knee.

‘Hey, Eddie, I got you, there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore, okay? I’m here. I’m getting you out.’

But Eddie is crying so desperately that he can’t even speak.

‘Nothing happened, alright? I’m here,’ Steve repeats. ‘They already dropped all the charges. You got nothing to worry about.’ He pauses for a moment, looks at Eddie intently. ‘Is this about your father?’

Eddie shakes his head. ‘It’s... It’s ‘bout you,’ he manages to get out in between sobs.

‘About me?’ Steve stares at him in confusion.

‘You shouldn’t... Shouldn’t be friends... with me, Steve.’

‘Woah, Eddie, come here.’ Steve drops down onto both knees so that he can wrap his arms around Eddie, gently stroking his back and letting him cry against the fabric of his Family Video vest until Steve’s whole shoulder is wet and Eddie finally has calmed down a little bit.

‘What made you say that?’ he finally asks, softly, when Eddie’s breathing has gone back to normal and he isn’t sobbing anymore.

‘I don’t know why we were pretending that we - that we could be friends,’ Eddie says, voice still thick with tears and sounding a little bit choked. ‘I’m nothing like you. When I’m at your house, everyone thinks I’m stealing your car. And that would make way more sense than the truth, wouldn’t it? They’re right. I’m not - I can’t be - I’ll never be good enough for you. I’m too much like him - just look at me now! You’d never end up in this place when you’re fixing someone’s car. But I’m just like him, and that means I’ll only end up hurting everyone I love - I’ll only end up hurting you.’ 

‘Eddie.’ Steve says his name so softly, while combing through his hair so gently, and Eddie doesn’t believe he deserves any of that kindness.

‘You’re nothing like your father. Everything you told me about him... It’s nothing like you. None of it is. You’re - you’re so kind and brave and loving and good. You shouldn’t believe a thing of what my dumb neighbors are thinking about you. We know they’re wrong, that’s all that matters, alright? And they better get used to you hanging out at my house, ‘cause I don’t give a shit about what they think, you’ll always be welcome there, even if they call the cops on you everyday. I want you there, Eddie.’

Eddie, exhausted from all his emotions, is barely able process that much sweetness. It’s too much; those reassuring words and the tender way in which Steve is brushing his thumbs over Eddie’s cheeks to wipe away his tears. It is making him lose any last ounce of common sense; he can only give in to those tender touches and press his lips against Steve’s.

Within a second, his brain catches up to what his body has decided would be a good idea, and he freezes in terror. Surely Steve will despise him now; surely he’ll push him away, punch him, call him all kinds of terrible names, lock him back into that cell...

But none of that happens. Steve only produces a surprised sound from the back of his throat, then presses his lips firmly against Eddie’s, soft and warm and gentle, while cradling his arms around him.

It only takes a few seconds, then Steve pulls back, blushing fervently and with a somewhat shocked look on his face.

‘Um. That was... Holy shit.’ He draws in a shuddering breath. ‘They probably have cameras in here, don’t they?’

Eddie can only nod stupidly.

Steve moves his arm to grab Eddie’s hand and squeezes it lightly.

‘How about I get you outta here, and we do um...’ His eyes flash down to Eddie’s lips for a split second. ‘And we do that again somewhere we have more privacy?’

---

They take their time in the back of Eddie’s van, kissing and talking and then kissing some more. When Eddie finally drops Steve off at Family Video to let him finish what’s left of his shift, he feels like he might never be able to stop smiling anymore.

‘Hey, um...’ he starts, ‘When you tell people about us, can you please leave out the part where I had a completely pathetic breakdown, and maybe instead say that you fell in love with me because of how immensely cool and badass I looked behind bars?’

Steve lets out a loud laugh. He reaches out his hand to play with one of Eddie’s curls. ‘That’s gonna be a no,’ he says, still chuckling but with an earnest look in his soft brown eyes. ‘I like our story just the way it is. As far as I’m concerned, everybody can know how strongly you feel things and what a huge softie you are. That’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s exactly what I like so much about you.’

[probably-writing-x]

Everything, Always

Summary: Rafe had never seemed to care about anyone other than himself. It was each for their own and it always had been. So why wasn’t it the same with you?

Warnings: Sexual references throughout, alcohol, fighting / violence

Word Count: 2.5K

Author’s Note: I had so much fun writing this so I hope you all enjoy <3 Have a lovely day !! Alsooo I’m all out of requests right now so if you think of anything please send it in xoxo

“Where is it you need to be this time?” Rafe asks you, tucking an arm under his head between his hair and the pillow as he watches you, the bed sheets hanging low over his waist.

“Family dinner,” You comment, “My grandparents have flown in for the weekend, meaning we have to pretend to all like each other for a hundred hours and then go back to normal.”

“Can’t you get out of it?” He frowns a little, his eyes trailing over your every move.

You let out a laugh as you tug your top over your chest, fixing it over your torso, “No, I already skipped out on the ladies’ brunch yesterday, and the girls’ beach day on Wednesday - they’ll start getting suspicious if I keep telling them I’m ill constantly.”

Rafe pushes himself to sit up against the headboard of his bed, eyes still following you around the room as you tug your shoes on, “Who cares if they get suspicious?”

You roll your eyes, “Because I’d rather not have the conversation of ‘yeah I’m fooling around with Rafe Cameron but it’s nothing important’.”

He raises his eyebrows at you, a smug smirk dancing over his lips, “Fooling around.”

“Goodbye Rafe,” You assert, grabbing your bag and closing his bedroom door behind you - thankful that the size of this house meant you could generally escape unseen.

The two of you had been hooking up for a few months now, starting from one drunken night after a party and carrying on when he’d told you not to leave the following morning. Then he would text you at 2am when both of you had nothing to do. And you’d text him on weekends when your parents were away on business. And then you just started knowing that you wanted to see each other - he’d no longer text asking you to come over, he’d just text to tell you he was on his way. It was nothing more than that, though. Just all of the benefits with none of the strings attached - exactly what you wanted. In your so-called ‘perfect’ Kook lifestyle, it was nice to have a little part of it that nobody needed to know about.

~~~

Open your door it’s fucking raining

You’re half asleep looking at the message, blinking the sleep out of your eyes. Before you can force your fingers to respond, the little ellipsis bubble appears to tell you he was typing again.

Seriously, I’ll break the window

You know the threat is empty, but there was always a part of you that never knew with Rafe. You push yourself out of bed and walk cautiously down the stairs, avoiding the steps that would creak too loudly. His silhouette is visible through the glass of the door, close enough so that he can be sheltered under the cover of the porch. When you unlock the door, he’s practically pushing to get through.

“Fucking hell, answer your texts woman,” He says, shaking a hand through his hair to relieve it of some of the water.

“Shhh,” You hiss, “What are you doing here? I told you my family were staying this weekend.”

“What? You don’t think you can be quiet?” The smirk on his face is enough to make your blood boil.

You hit his chest but he doesn’t move so much as an inch at your contact, “Either get upstairs or get out.”

Rafe mock salutes you, with a growing grin on his face, “Yes ma’am.”

The two of you weren’t a couple, so you didn’t cuddle afterwards or anything. That would be far too romantic. Instead, you would lay on one side of the bed and him on the other, both with one arm tucked underneath your pillow, facing the other person on the mattress.

“What did you have at brunch?” Rafe asks you, his voice deep as he speaks quietly into the space between you.

You let out a little laugh, “You don’t care, why are you asking?”

He rolls his eyes at you, “Humour me.”

“I had poached eggs and avocado on toast,” You comment, “It was disgusting, and unseasoned, but it stops my Grandmother from judging me.”

“Is it nice seeing your family?” As he asks the question, Rafe reaches out a hand and starts drawing his fingertips up your arm - it’s not the sort of touch that is going to lead to anything, it’s just gentle and soft and like he is doing it purely for the desire to feel you.

You frown a little, “What’s with the questions Rafe? Why are you being weird?”

He stops his hand on your arm, though doesn’t pull it away just yet. But it’s like your questions snap him back to himself, and eventually he pulls himself away, shaking his head a little like drawing back to reality, “I better leave, can’t be here when your grandparents wake up, can I?”

With that, he pushes himself away from the bed to stand up and you’re the one watching him this time as he picks up his discarded clothes from the floor and refits them in the exact way as when he’d arrived.

“Are you going to Topper’s party on Tuesday?” You ask him as he re-laces his shoes, one foot on the seat of your vanity chair.

“Yeah he wouldn’t let me say no,” Rafe rolls his eyes, “Are you?”

“I think the girls said something about us going,” You try to sound as nonchalant as possible, though you’re almost absolutely certain that you fail in doing so.

“So I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” You shrug, pulling the sheets up high on your chest to snuggle into them.

“Tuesday,” Rafe raises his brows like he sees right through you, walking around to your side of the bed.

In the moment, he leans down over you and presses a soft kiss to your lips, lingering just above you for a second longer.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

He leaves after that, closing your bedroom door behind him silently. In all of these months, that was the first time you’d ever kissed each other goodbye. It felt weird and unknown and oddly comforting. But you drift off to sleep soon after, a settling uncertainty on your chest.

~~~

The party is busy by the time you get there and it’s already littered with faces you don’t know - Topper had a habit of inviting every person he’d ever found himself in conversation with, until his house was practically bursting at the seams.

Your eyes scan the crowd until you find Sarah and hurry over to her, thankful for a familiar face amongst the unknown. The two of you had known each other since you were young, having grown up doing everything together - and Sarah was another one of the reasons why everything with you and Rafe had to be kept so on the down low.

“There you are! God, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages!” She beams, wrapping you in a warm hug, “Where have you been?”

“Yeah, it’s been a busy couple of weeks is all,” You nod, “I haven’t been feeling great either.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re better now!” She smiles, “I have so much to catch you up on.”

Sarah grabs your hand and takes you through the crowd until the two of you find the table of drinks, and she pours one can out into a cup for you, handing it over.

“How are things with you and John B?” You ask her, taking a sip as you glance around the room, only looking for one pair of eyes.

“Shhhh, Topper would kill you if he heard you talking about it here,” She widens her eyes at you, “But they’re going well. And things at home are surprisingly good too.”

“Oh really, how come?”

Sarah looks around before leaning in close to speak in a hushed tone as she says, “I’m pretty sure my brother is seeing somebody.”

“He’s what?!”

“Well, I don’t know if seeing someone is the right term because he only ever seems to go out past midnight. But, whoever she is, she must be someone special because I’ve never seen the guy so happy,” Sarah laughs, “I mean, literally, you’d think it was a different person.”

“Really?” You try to mask your smile with a look of surprise, fighting back the grin tugging at your lips.

Sarah gets distracted before she can say anything else as Topper comes up behind her and puts a hand on her shoulder. She widens her eyes at you before forcing a smile and turning around to face him.

“Is it okay if we go off to talk somewhere?” Topper glances over at you with a small smile before turning back to Sarah, “Alone.”

“Sure, Top,” She takes a deep breath, following behind him as he dips out of the party.

In their absence, there’s a clearing in the group as a tall form pushes through the bodies - Rafe tumbling over bumping shoulders to get himself to the table.

You turn to the drinks and refill your cup a little more with the rest of the can. Before you can turn around, you feel the presence of him behind you, his arm leaning over to grab a cup.

“Excuse me,” He mumbles, his voice close to your ear as he dips his head down.

You lift your head up and it bumps just slightly against the hardness of his chest, “I’ll get out of your way.”

“Oh no,” Rafe moves his other hand to your waist and grips the skin, “Don’t move on my accord. But you could be a doll and get that whiskey for me.”

You lean over, aware of how you push back into his crotch as you bend. In the moment, you’re sure he grips you just a little tighter.

Rafe holds out his solo cup and your start pouring the brown liquid in, the bottle lightening in your hand.

“Woah, woah, woah,” He laughs, “Anyone would think you’re trying to get me drunk.”

You set the bottle down and pick up your own drink, turning around so that you’re stood against his chest, having to tilt your chin upwards to see him properly, “Get you drunk? Oh no, you’re terrible in bed when you’re drunk.”

Rafe raises his brows at you but his eyes seem to darken at the thoughts running through his mind, “Well,” He takes a long, slow, sip of the drink, “Maybe I’ll have to prove you wrong.”

With that, he disappears back through the crowd and you find your eyes trailing after the back of his head.

The party’s been going on for a few hours and everyone is slowly starting to get more and more intoxicated. With that, more and more people that you don’t know seem to be filling out the rooms. As a result of the strangers and all of them getting fuelled by liquid courage, it doesn’t take long before a fight breaks out.

Kelce is arguing with someone over something you hadn’t caught the start of. But you catch sight of it as soon as Kelce pushes the boy and sends him stumbling backwards, knocking Sarah forward into you.

You grip her arms to hold her upright, “Are you okay?”

She nods and holds onto you, “Let’s get out of here.”

She holds your hand and goes forward ahead of you to get out of the bustling crowd of people. It’s then that you notice a second too late, as the boy’s arm draws backwards to hit at Kelce, who shoves him again before he gets the chance to hit back. As he does, the boy’s elbow drives straight into you, colliding with the side of your head and your eye.

It’s all a blur after that, shouting and pushing as you fall forward onto Sarah, who’s now the one holding you up. You clutch one hand to your eye and pull it away to find your hand already stained in blood from the cut.

“Oh my god, we need to get that looked at,” Sarah winces, pulling you through the crowd.

The last that you see is Rafe in the middle of the two of the guys, his arm swinging back as his fist collides with one of their faces. There’s a fury on his face you’re sure you’ve never seen before, even from him.

On the porch, you and Sarah find a place to sit and she comes back with a pack of frozen peas and a kitchen towel.

“It was all I could find,” She furrows her brows, “Are you feeling okay?”

You smile and take them from her, wrapping the kitchen towel around the peas and pressing it to your head, “I’m okay, don’t worry.”

“I’m going to get you some water, okay?” She nods, squeezing your knee before disappearing back inside.

You press down on the wound and the pressure makes it sting, the cool bleeding through the towel to give you some sort of relief.

It’s then that the porch door swings open again, this time with force that seems to radiate through the air. Rafe steps outside, his eyes wild and angry as they flick over the outside, eventually landing on where you were sat.

“There you are,” He breathes out, his eyes dark as he comes over to crouch down in front of you, his hand finding home on your thigh, “Let me see it.”

You pull the ice away from your head and notice the towel stained with blood now too. Rafe brings a hand up to your face, brushing your hair away - his soft touch an odd juxtaposition to the anger that seemed to radiate from him.

“That guy is an asshole I swear to god he-“

“Rafe,” You glance down at his hand on your thigh, where his knuckles are split and starting to turn into a blotchy red edging towards purple bruises, “What did you do?”

He pulls his hands away from you and looks down at them, “Nothing, it’s okay.”

“I didn’t ask you to start a fight with him,” You point out.

“I didn’t start it,” Rafe defends, “He started it by hitting you.”

You fight back a smile, “Do you do this for all of the girls you’re hooking up with?”

Rafe rolls his eyes, “Don’t look at me like that.”

You laugh a little and his eyes catch yours again, cooler now and seemingly softer.

”But you’re doing okay though?”

“Besides the pain and the fact I’m seeing three of you?” You joke, grinning at him.

“Hilarious,” He rolls his eyes once more, turning over his hand and holding it spread wide waiting for you, “Come on, I’ll take you home and we can get that cleaned up.”

You let his hand wrap around yours as you stand up and follow him down off the porch, your thumb and fingers brushing over the rough of his knuckles. It injects a fluttering into your heart, like he was some sort of knight in shining armour. And yours at that.

~~~

His parents and Wheezie are already asleep by the time you get home, and you shoot Sarah a quick text to tell her that you were safe but that you just wanted your bed, and that she didn’t need to worry. Rafe places a hand on your back and guides you upstairs with him, his phone torch lighting the way up towards his bedroom.

“Here,” He says as the two of you go through to his en-suite and he turns around, his hands gripping your waist as he lifts you up to sit on the countertop.

“It’s really not that bad I promise,” You encourage, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

The cut curved around the side of your temple and it was starting to bruise either side towards your eyebrow.

“Yeah, well, can’t be too careful,” Rafe mumbles, rummaging through the cupboard until he finds what he’s looking for.

He comes back over to you with a small blue canvas box in his hand, unzipping it to take out a couple of wipes.

“Alright, try not to hit me when this hurts,” Rafe smirks, peeling off the wrapper of one of the wipes and leaning it over just above the skin of your injury. As he presses down, you wince and grip onto his bicep tightly, your knuckles turning white under the tension.

“Sorry,” You mumble, your cheeks flushing hot under his gaze.

Rafe drags the wipe over your cut, cleaning up the blood that had dried around it.

“It’s not too bad,” He comments, his voice low, “But you might have a nice bruise for a couple of weeks.”

You shrug your shoulders, loosening your grip on him, “Bruised eye and bruised knuckles? What a pair we are.”

“So we’re a pair now?” Rafe raises his brows just a little at you, the slight shadows of a smile over his lips.

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean-“ You fumble over your words, your cheeks heating up beyond what you thought possible.

Rafe wraps up both of the wipes and tosses them into the trash can on the floor, “All done.”

You fiddle with your fingers on your lap, avoiding his gaze as he moves around the room to put everything away, before finally turning back to you.

“You want to go to bed?”

“Oh Rafe Cameron you know how to be romantic,” You scoff, pushing yourself down from the counter to stand beside him, his height towering over you.

He scoffs and pushes your shoulder gently, “Keep it in your pants (Y/L/N).”

With that, Rafe disappears into his bedroom and you have no choice but to follow behind him. He’s pulling back the covers of the bed before stripping down out of his clothes and piling them up on the chair next to his desk.

“Here,” Rafe rummages through one of his drawers before turning around to you, “You can take this.”

He’s holding a hockey jersey in one hand, waiting for you to take it.

“I didn’t take you as a hockey fan,” You laugh.

Rafe shakes his head, “Rose bought it for me, I think she ran out of ideas for birthday presents about three years ago so now she just gets us anything.”

He turns around and clambers into the bed, tucking an arm under his head as he waits for you to change, folding your clothes and putting them on top of his.

“You need to be this side,” Rafe comments before you come over to the bed, “You can’t lay on that side of your face.”

He shifts himself over to the other side, turning so that he’s facing towards the middle of the bed. You climb in beside him and turn to face him too, your cut slowly starting to throb less against your head.

“We’ve never done this,” You say quiet enough to be a whisper, like you’re uncomfortable even thinking of saying it.

“Never done what?” Rafe narrows his eyes at you, “Is that bruise making you lose your memory or-“

“No, I just mean we never just… go to bed.”

Rafe laughs outwardly, “That makes me sound like an asshole.”

“No, no,” You shake your head, “I just mean-“

“I know.”

The two of you fall silent again and Rafe reaches up a hand to draw up your arm.

“So Sarah was talking about you earlier,” You whisper, like you don’t want to disturb the moment.

“She did?” He raises his brows at you, “What did she say?”

You chew at the inside of your lip like you’re not sure what to say, or if to say anything at all, “She told me…” You pause, “That you seem happier, and she thinks that you are seeing someone.”

“Wow,” His face shows no clue of his emotion, “I guess I’ll have to start keeping my cards closer to my chest.”

“Right, yeah,” You clear your throat, “Definitely.”

“So we haven’t done this before,” Rafe confirms, trailing his fingers over the sleeve of the jersey that seemed to drown your figure, “How do we do this?”

“I don’t-“

Before you can say anything more, he grips two hands around your waist and lifts you over him, dropping you slowly on the other side of him.

“What are you doing?”

“This feels right,” He mumbles, drawing you back against his chest and wrapping an arm underneath you around your waist.

His other hand draws up to brush your hair out of your face, cautious over the cut where he leans over and presses a soft kiss to the skin just next to it. Rafe drops his other arm over you so that you’re engulfed in his embrace and he shuffles himself impossibly closer behind you, his breath dancing hot over the back of your neck as he drifts off to sleep. This wasn’t like you. You two never did this. The romance, the little kisses, the cuddles? So why did it all feel so natural??

~~~

When you wake up the next morning, Rafe is still wrapped around you but he’s already awake - having always been an early riser. He’s trailing his fingers along your skin as if he’s tracing your body, mapping it out. And he stops when he feels you start to wake up.

“Morning, sunshine,” He mumbles, pushing aside the material of his jersey on your shoulder so that he can press a kiss to the skin there.

You groan and turn around to face him, wiggling against his hold around you.

“Woah, woah, careful darling,” He says, glancing at the bruising around your eye.

You stop in your tracks, like you’ve been put on puase, “What did you-“

“I just didn’t want you to lie on it, in case it hurts,” Rafe shakes it off, clearly hoping you’ll dismiss his comment quickly.

“No, no, not that,” You flick your gaze between each of his eyes, “What did you call me?”

“Oh, shut up, I’ve definitely called you that before,” He rolls his eyes, trying to bury his head into your shoulder to avoid your burning attention on him.

You pull back just enough to keep your eyes locked on his, “No you haven’t, you never have. You’ve called me plenty of things but never that.”

“Why’s it such a big deal?” He scoffs, scratching the back of his neck as if a tell of his lack of nonchalance.

You push yourself up to lean on your elbows, looking down over him laying beside you.

“All of this, what’s going on? You kissed me goodbye the other day, and you fought a guy at a party for me, and you patched me up last night and you wanted to just go to bed with nothing happening, and you cuddle me like we’re some sort of couple and you call me dar-“

“Okay, okay, I got the message,” Rafe interjects, “What’s wrong with all that?”

“It’s not you,” You defend, “When this all started, when we first started, you told me it was no strings attached, it was a hook up, it wasn’t even like a friends with benefits kind of thing. It was nothing. This? How you’ve been acting the past couple of days? That’s not nothing.”

Rafe looks away from you for a second and his jaw clenches and unclenches, once, twice.

“Rafe.”

He turns back to you, “I didn’t… I mean, I don’t… we’re not…”

You raise your brows at him and he relaxes the tension in his shoulders, as if in defeat.

“I didn’t plan for this,” He shakes his head, “But we started seeing each other more, and sure it was great because it was just sex and that was great and then… I don’t know. I wanted to see you. I started thinking about you, and not just about texting you at 3am but like actually seeing you. And I wanted you to stay later and come over earlier and I wanted to start being more than just this, I wanted everything with you, always. I’ve never felt like that with someone before and then last night just made me realise it even more that somewhere along the way I fell for you and I-“

“You fell for me?”

“It’s just an expression I-“

“You fell for me?” You bite your bottom lip to try to lessen the wide grin across your cheeks.

“Seriously shut the fuck up,” Rafe rolls his eyes at you.

You shake your head, “You can’t be mean to me, you fell for me.”

He snakes a hand underneath the bend of your elbows and pulls you from your waist until you’re settled on top of him, his hands wrapping low around your back.

“Does it make the sex really boring if we’re like a proper couple now? Like does it have to be all lovey dovey?”

Rafe laughs from deep in his chest, his hands dropping down lower over the curve of your ass, “Why don’t we test that theory, darling?”

[jolapeno]

FRANKIE THOTS FRANKIE THOTS FRANKIE THOTS (please)

well who am I to deny you such a thing ⬇️

frankie morales x f!reader warnings: smut, p in v, praise kink, mention of edging, mirror mention, quickie

🔥 Frankie loves stealing forbidden moments with you. when you head to the bathroom at a friends place, when you go to the garage to get more beer—that man is finding a door to press you against, whispering filthy words to you, pushing your underwear to the side as you slide your fingers into his hair and nails against his scalp, his other hand spreading around your hips, pulling you close, because he just has to have a moment with you. needs to show you how head-over-heels he is for you.

🔥 is this because i like it, maybe? but the man loves to praise—because he equally loves praise. he gives what he wants to receive, and fuck, you telling him how good he makes you feel, how good his mouth is, his cock—sends the man over the edge. “yeah baby? I make you feel good.” “always, frankie. fuck, always making me feel good.” and equally, "doing so good for me, frankie. bit longer and then i'll let you fill me up" as his fingers dig into the muscle of your ass as you ride him.

🔥 there’s nothing like a lazy morning, when sleep is still prevalent, and your body is just so soft and warm. your skin is on show, fabric having slipped from it's place, allowing his palm to trace you like a map, watching through half-lidded eyes as you squirm. the sun is barely peeking through the black-out curtains, but he knows what he's doing to you, can hear it, practically taste it in the air. so much so, he’s not actually surprised to find you soaked when he slides his fingers inside your sleep shorts, but he will pretend to be, “been dreaming about me, hermosa?” the moan you give him is better than coffee into his blood stream.

🔥 you riding Frankie, the mirror (see the piece in resurrected chances) coming back into play so he can bask in all the angles of you. unsure how he got so goddamn lucky as his palm slides up your breastbone, palm resting on the base of your neck as his other hand teases your clit, because “you can be good for me, can’t you? you can give me one more” and you’re nodding, overstimulated and desperate, because for him you’ll always be good. your thighs shaking, nerves on fire from the afternoon the two of you have had. likely all began because he got sweaty fixing something like the dining table or putting up a bookcase.

🔥 the two of you have plans to meet another couple at a restaurant, and you're running slightly behind, but Frankie takes one look at you all dressed up and decides—all mathematically—that if he sticks to side streets, he can shave off ten minutes from the commute to have you. hinging you at the hips over the sofa, hand wrapping around your chin to tilt you to look at him as he fucks you. your dress balled up in his fist on your upper back, because you were stern when you told him not to ruin your dress, "but can i ruin your makeup?" and you smirk, as he slams into you, moaning his name out, before replying that it's easier to fix in the car that a stained dress. BONUS to this: him redressing only for you to tell him, you’ll keep him inside you, so he can clean you up when the two of you get home. he almost feigns illness and takes you back to bed.

👀 hope that was okay, anon.

[secretlilsis]

She wore the white lace lingerie he had liked so much on her for him, grinning ear to ear, not shy at all - even if she tried hard to pretend to be, trying to arouse him further. But she simply was to sure of it, to sure of how much hed enjoy this. His eyes eating her hungrily.

"I know how much youre into styles like that.." She breathed into his ear. "You know.. You really have a thing for innocent and pure looking lingerie, dont you?"

He sighed "It just makes you look angelic, I think it catches your being well."

She gently bit his lip "I sometimes feel like theres something restrictive to your obsession with thinking im so innocent. But ill bite. Literally." And then she bit down even harder, nearly drawing a little blood.

"Sit down then." He ordered her right after, "You told me youd allow me to draw you."

So she obeyed. Sitting in the pose he instructed her to. He loved seeing her still like this, all of his. Sitting there, unmoved, doing her best to hold still as he painted her, he knew it was difficult for her to stay unmoved like this. It almost felt like he had her in a sort of bondage. And as he painted her, he felt he was capturing her in a deeper level, making her his prisoner in some sense, without ever harming her in any way whatsoever.

When he was done painting her, he did not show her. And instead ordered her to do something far more perverted, she was to push the lingerie to the side and insert two fingers into her pussy, then pose for him - legs wide open, and to hold still without moving, not being allowed to finger herself no matter how much her cunt ached, or how much him continiously looking at her to paint her in that position turned her on.

"Big brother hurry up .. come over here and fuck me" She whined occasionally.

"Shh. Dont complain. Silence. I need to concentrate." Hed harshly reprimand her.

By the time he finished that painting too, she was soaking wet, he could see it leave a trail on the bed. He got up in one fast, swift movement and roughly laid on top of her, pushing his member inside her without much warning - her head falling back, "Fuck.... Big brother... Finally.." Her legs wrapped around him and pulled him in deeper as he fucked into her as roughly and violently as he could.

[my-brain-soup]

I've Never Seen Luka, But Jon Kent Has

Basically I've never watched Luka but I read a fanfic where Jon gets the teen titans to watch it (parallels are drawn between Luca and Alberto and Jon and Damian) so now I will be watching it and writing the thoughts I have during it

No I will not give context and spoiler warning ig

Love the music during the studio logos

We love a superstitious king, I mean, I have a feeling he has a point

IF THEY HIT HIM IMMA BE SO PISSED

Awww, he's such a polite little guy

Luca is a farm boy!!! I love my little Jon Kent varient :)

I, too, would risk my life for shiny object

I, too, do the murder

OMG THEIR SO JON AND DAMIAN BUT LIKE BEING HUMAN IS BEING A VIGILANTE AND ITS THE SAME AS THEIR START BASICALLY I LOVE THEM

HE EVEN HAS THE SUPERMAN CURL

Dami would say he invented walking

And pretend he's not proud of Jon

THEYRE SO CUTESY

Bruno? Or Bruce...o... you get the idea

Sorry, they have Luca grab Alberto like that and expect me not to see them as the most adorable little guy love story? Their so crushing on each other

"You're so lucky your dad lets you do what you want," cue Superman's comment about Bruce getting hit on the head all the time

NO WAY THEIR SENDING HIM TO (basically) BOARDING SCHOOL TO KEEP HIM AWAY FROM THE "bad influence" THAT IS ALBERTO

Yes! Grandma, my queen!

"We can do anything" I love this movie

MY FRIEND SMELLS AMAZING

God I don't know her name yet but I love her

JULIA OR HOWEVER YOU SAY IT

We're not telling you our secrets! Tells secrets immediately.

FROM EVERYTHING YOU LOVE?????

I love Alberto so muchhhhhh

I love Mr dad human

Oh they know SOO many fish

No way everyone, including an adult, just saw that bitch rob some kids and didn't do shit

He is a sad little catfish

Why are his parents actually crazy

Aww, Alberto doesn't want to lose his friend

Noooooooo

Luca just wants to learn, and Alberto just wants to feel loved :(

How is the gayest looking dude there being homophobic?

When your new father figue wants to kill your entire species

Alberto got mad when Julia touched Luca's hand...

Why does Luca's hair looks like a croissant

NO LUCA WTF

I WAS ALMOST ON YOUR SIDE

GOD WHAT THE HELL

YES, MR DAD HUMAN, I LOVE YOU PLEASE DONT KILL YOUR NEW SON

FUCK.

IM NOT CRYING.

Nooooo

Their fort :(

BESTIE NO

NO ALBERTO MY BABY NO

STOP PUSHING PEOPLE AWAY SO YOU DONT GET HURT. IT'S NOT GONNA WORK

God the organizer adult lady us such a bitch

Why is no one concerned that the scuba kid isn't coming up for air?

Aww, his little clap self tap in

It's totally about to rain

Well shit. Sometimes I hate when I'm right

WAIT WAS THAT ALBERTO

I TAKE IT BACK I LOVE WHEN IM RIGHT

FUCK

NO I TAKE IT BACK AGAIN

I love them so much!!!!

MR DAD HUMAN NO

MR DAD HUMAN YES

YAYYYY

KING

Is the mom the same person that voiced Aunt Cass in big hero 6?

YES LOVE ME THE OLD LADIES

BRO ITS SO ABOUT BEING GAY I LOVE THIS MOVIE

I decided it is a metaphor for older lgbtq people, feeling able to come out after younger generations have proved that times have changed, I love them

(They're sisters, so they're not together, but they can still be gay!)

BRO ALBERTO

THOSE LITTLE LOOKS

YOU'RE NOT FOOLING ANYONE

JULIA 100% KNOWS

About his crush, not just Luca going to school

AHHHH HES SO SWEET

YES, MR DAD HUMAN, YOU NEED EACH OTHER

Their in love, your honor

THEIR LITTLE HAND HOLDING THING I CANT

IM SO MENTALLY ILL FOR GAY FISH

IM CRYING AGAIN

AHHH, THEY RIGHT EACH OTHER LETTERS

ALBERTO LOOKS SO SMITTEN WHEN THEY'RE ON THE PHONE

ALBERTO GETS HIS KNIFE

DOES HE BECOME A LIFEGAURD???

I love this movie

So much

DAMIAN ALSO HAS A CAT AND JON ALSO HAS A DOG

Also, here is my formal apology, her name is spelled Giulia, my b

Alberto learns to carve wood, awww

Also, does Luca EVER get shoes?

I've decided I need an Alberto to become a tattoo artist future au, at least like on the side or for fun or sm

The dedication is adorable

Yes, I just watched all of the credits. What about it?

I was rewarded with an after credits scene, so fuck you.

I'm gonna watch all the deleted scenes now, I'm not gonna specify which one so have fun guessing

Haha, they called Alberto and Luca the main relationship

BOO STOP TRYING TO GIVE LUCA A CRUSH ON GIULIA

YES! CONFORMED LUCA A GIULIA ONLY PLATONIC

YES ALBERTO CHEER ON THE KRAKEN AGAINST THE HUNTER

Also, she was almost a photographer, like TIM DRAKE?!?!?

Don't worry, Luca, I'll ride in a barrel lit on fire down a hill with you

Awww, they were raised by a lobsterrr

BRING BACK CANNED SEA MONSTER FACTORY

OH SEA MONSTER CAN PASS BUT IF THEIR FOUND OUT THE CONSEQUENCES MIGHT BE REALKY DIRE??? SOUNDS KINDA GAY TO ME.

Oh, Jon is extremely charming

I love how they used different animation styles (in how they had the characters move) on land and in the water

PH THE TRANSFORMATION ISN'T CELEBRATED IN LUCAS FAMILY AND HE MAKES IT A CONSIOUS DEASITION TO CHANGE HIS THINKING FROM I SHOULDNT DO THIS TO I SHOULD EMBRASE THIS? SOUNDS KINDA GAY TO ME

Bro, not the first version where Alberto outs Luca to Giulia, eek

And finally, Ciao Alberto!

Aww, Luca wants to see to Portorosso!

THE GAY OLD LADY SISTERS ARE DEFINITELY CLOSE WITH ALBERTO, AND I LOVE IT FOR ALL OF THEM

He finally has people who care about him!!!

AWW ALBERTO JUST WANTS MR DAD HUMAN TO BE PROUD OF HIM

Alberto, you do NOT got this

DONT LIGHT THE BOAT ON FIRE

OH SHIT

Noooo!!! Don't leave!!!

YOU'RE NOT HIS EMPLOYEE, YOU'RE HIS SON

HE CALLED HIM DAD!!!

YAY HUGS

I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

MY HEART

I CANT

I love Alberto being an artist (a bad one, for now, but still and artist)

Okay, that's it, Ciao :)