#my girl deserves some slack please

[thelesbianluthor]

Getting into bridgerton late means finding out people's rancid takes on my beautiful woman Kate 2 years later and being left baffled and peeved. The way people miss the point of her character completely and dismiss everything she has done and sacrificed makes me want to scream.

And if that's not the unfortunate fate of many female characters.. the amount of people that cannot handle complexity and mistakes if done by women even when they mirror beloved male characters...

Mistakes are part of what makes a character interesting, their baggage that held them back and then their growth after finally learning to let it go. If you dislike Kathani viscountess Bridgerton than you better stay away from me because I will let Anthony Bridgerton's spirit posses me and I WILL fight you for her honor

[phone4pills]

PENCIL SKIRT dad!Matt x nanny!Reader

smut, back shots, standing doggy, mirror sex, degradation, breeding kink

The bathroom mirror reflected each tear on your face, as if to mock you for being so sensitive. Each pull on your hair, each harsh and merciless thrust had your insides twisting and turning. “Mr Sturniolo-” You chocked out his name, your grip hardening around the edge of the bathroom sink, the porcelain ceramic being the only thing keeping you grounded.

Meanwhile, Matthew Sturniolo didn’t hold back. He grunted, grabbing your hip with the hand that wasn’t buried in your hair. Your knees were almost completely useless, and if it weren’t for your position, bent over the sink, you did not think you’d still be standing on your two feet. Your usually neat, black pencil skirt was rolled up to you waist and your panties hung low around your heels.

White pre-cum leaked from Matt’s tip into your warmth, dripping on the floor every split-second he pulled out before burying his length within you again. “So wet f’me, yeah? Not very professional of you, is it?” Your eyelids closed tight, ears catching each groan that rippled from his throat. “Is it, y/n?!” Matthew asked again, more sternly. You shook you head quickly. He picked up his pace, slamming into you harder than ever. “Be a good girl and use those words, hm?”

“No… not p-profes- ahh.” A breathy moan escaped your lips when he bottomed out, bruising your cervix. Each callous noise increased in volume, until Matthew was pulling his hand out of your hair to cover your mouth, slapping your cheek slightly. “Shh, don’t want the girls to hear, do we now?” You shook your head again, mumbling a ‘nuh uh’ before he chuckled. You looked pathetic, your mascara was a black mess under your eyes and your mouth hung slack.

Your clit was rubbing against the cold surface of the counter, giving you more pleasure than you thought you could handle. The tightness in your stomach began to break loose, and Matthew knew because your eyes rolled back into your head. Your back arched into his grip and soon enough, you came undone, turning into a moaning mess. But Matt kept going, chasing his own high.

“M- Matt…” You whispered into his palm. He didn’t like it. His hand landed a slap on your ass. “You know not to call me that. So naughty… you don’t deserve this do ya?”

You found your head shaking again, submitting to his viciously laced words. “Say it, y/n. Look in the mirror and say it.” You struggled to hold eye contact with yourself in the reflective glass framed on the wall in front of you. Nevertheless, you abided. “I d-don’t deserve this!” Your words were slightly muffled but they were enough to have Matthew tipping over the edge. As his cock started to twitch inside of you, he hissed.

“You want me to fill you up with my babies?” Leaning in to speak next to your ear, his voice was sickeningly sweet. You nodded giving him a hoarse ‘yes please’ before his movements came to a halt and Matthew pumped you full of his white fluids.

You straightened down your skirt, taking a deep breath, and laid Matt’s warm towel on the counter, folded neatly. He’d gotten to his shower in the end, letting the hot steam roam the air, fogging up the mirror. “Tell the girls to get dressed. Think m’gonna take them out to get ice cream.” His relaxed voice reverberated off the walls of the space. And with that, you left, shutting the door behind you.

Tag list: @hearts4werka @pvssychicken @sturnslcver @sophand4n4 @sofieeeeex @lovingregulusblack

This is probably my last piece of smut for a while, no nut November is coming up and I gotta lock in with some fluff and angst. Love this AU to death, might write more for it in the future but until then you can see other Matt fics in my MASTERLIST. Thanks for reading!

- ©phone4pills

[rafescvntyclubgf]

"𝐘𝐨𝐮" - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚛𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚛!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: 𝐀𝐠𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐩 | 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰 | 𝐒𝐞𝐱 𝐢𝐧 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 | 𝐒𝐞𝐱 𝐓𝐨𝐲𝐬

*Rafe is in his 40s

𝖈𝖔-𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍: @nadvs

𝓇𝒶𝒻𝑒𝓎𝓈𝒸𝓊𝓇𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝒷𝒶𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 - 𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓀 𝓉𝓌𝑜

𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙/𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖉𝖚𝖑𝖊

⚠️warnings contain spoilers ⚠️

Stalker!Rafe, Perv!Rafe, reader is Rafe’s friend’s sister, swearing, Rafe is a perv, age gap, public masterbation, fantasies about the reader, blood, mentions of murder, mentions of gun violence, mentions of general violence, suicide attempt, Rafe goes through her phone, peeping Tom, steals nude pictures, watches the reader masterbate, praise, Rafe’s POV

📖 College Professor Rafe Cameron has been dating you for months. You just don’t know it yet.💋

🔪 I smile when you look over your shoulder, the light pouring in from outside the lecture shining on you like a beacon. A fuckin’ angel on earth. My girl. 🔪

🔪Hello, You.🔪

6.8 K

Rafe’s POV:

“Oh, shit.” I look out on the lecture hall, crammed wall to wall—mostly old birds and a few young professors sprinkled amongst the AARP members. Jesus Christ. I match the eyes of one of my old lecturers from my time here. She gives me a little smile, and I nod, making a blush creep across her wrinkled cheeks before the lights fall low.

Do I deserve my name on a plaque on an office door at this fine university? Absolutely fucking not. But I paid for the building after all… American History; all first-years. You can’t mess that shit up.

I relax into the wall a bit, accepting my fate, lifting my coffee to my lips, taking a sip. “R.” I hear a familiar voice. A couple of heads turn toward me, leading me to a familiar face. I smile and chuckle as I shuffle toward the aisle, scooching through the crowd.

“Hey, man,” I greet him, shaking his hand before slipping my leather bag off my shoulders, taking a seat.

“R.C.,” he breathes, surprised to see me here, happy nonetheless.

“Zachary.”

“Guess they're hiring anyone these days,” he taunts, jabbing me in the side playfully, making me snort out a lazy laugh. I can’t lie; I’m happy to see him here. One friend is plenty. The guy is a fuckin’ nerd, but he’s a good person. “Pretty sure we both had class in this lecture hall,” he sighs blissfully, recalling a simpler time.

“Yeah, man. I think we did… How long have you been workin’ here for?” I ask between sips of coffee.

“Ten years.”

“Jesus, man,” I huff. We've been outta school for that long, huh?

“Nah, buddy,” he groans. “Longer. Started working here right after graduation. Been workin’ my way up the ladder ever since.”

“That’s great,” I nod, watching our Dean of Students strut across the hall's main floor. “You like it here?”

“Love it,” he smiles. “Why are you here?” Zach furrows his brows, asking the question he wanted to ask from the beginning. It’s no secret I got money to spare. There’s gotta be some reason I’m here. I’m sure he’s curious.

“I got bored. Thought I’d go back to school; just did it casually. N’here I am.”

“Here you are,” he echos through a weak laugh. “I mean, you own the place at this point. Huh?” Zach wiggles his eyebrows teasingly.

“Almost,” I chuckle, fully aware that the Cameron Library and The Cameron School of Business makes this current faculty position a little absurd.

“Glad to have you here. Truly,” he adds earnestly.

“Good to be here, man,” I smile as I relax into my seat a little more, getting ready for a day of gettin’ talked at, I’m sure. Zach adjusts in his seat, pulling his phone out of his slacks, thumbing over his messages.

Sis: Did you want anything to eat?

Zach: Nah. I’m fine.

Sis: Sounds good. Black coffee, two creams, two sugars?

Zach: Please and thank you.

“So…” I ask, my curiosity piqued. “Do you have any family here? You married or what-” I question, trying to be as calm as possible.

“Nah… Not really the marriage type. Family, yeah, my sister goes here now.”

��No shit?” I ask, trying not to be too interested, but I can’t help but catch his lock screen. Him and an absolutely stunning woman posed next to each other in front of the Golden Pavilion in Kyoto. They weren’t cuddled up with each other, just smiling… That smile. I run my hands down my shirt, smoothing out any wrinkles, raking my fingers through my hair, pushing it back slightly. Please be her.

“She’s a Kappa Girl.”

“Not a Kappa Girl,” I taunt through an exaggerated groan. He scoffs and rolls his eyes away. If it was anything like it was back in the day that house in nothin’ short of a brothel.

“She isn’t like that, Cameron,” he drones. “She doesn’t even live at the house. She’s got good grades. Like good good. Fuckin’ great actually—above a 4.0. They recruited her. The Kappas took some heat after gettin’ in trouble a few too many times. They were gonna lose their charter, so they switched from a social sorority to one based in education. Fuckin’ nerds,” he adds, making me chuckle, dissing her just like I had dissed him just a few short minutes before.

“Runs in the family. Huh?”

“Fuck off,” he snickers. Zach hangs his head low, pitching the bridge of his nose as he lets out an exhausted sigh.

“You good?”

He nods and yawns, eyes set on the speaker up front. “These old bitches can go fuckin’ hard. We went to Lord Fletcher’s last night. Janice over there can drink you under the table… Six advils today already. Y/n is comin’ over with a coffee for me. Thank god. I’m hurtin’ over here,” he groans, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

Zach’s eyes brighten as he looks toward the lecture steps. I feel my heart racing in my chest, my palms sweating, almost too nervous to look. I mean, that could have been his ex-girlfriend. But what if it’s the best-case scenario? What if it’s her? What if she’s you, princess? I turn my attention to the end of the aisle, watching that same girl shuffle along the line of people, clutching coffees, doing her best not to spill.

Fuck me.

My eyes travel up your body, your bare legs on full display, making my stomach fill with butterflies. You lean in, your sweet perfume amplified by the warmth of your flawless body from the late August heat. The second the coffee leaves your hand, I’m trying to get your attention on me. “I’m Rafe,” I smile, extending my hand toward you.

You juggle your books and your own coffee in your hands clumsily, extending a hand as well, making me instantly feel bad for putting you through the hassle, but the contact is worth it— soft and smooth, a firm grip on mine. You bat your long lashes at me. I can’t tell if you’re just trying to get a better look in the dim light or if you like what you see, but my heart is racing regardless.

“It’s nice to meet you, Rafe,” you reply, talking directly to me… “See you at home,” you whisper to Zach, who gives you a little wave as he swipes through his phone again. I smile when you look over your shoulder, the light pouring in from outside the lecture shining on you like a beacon. A fuckin’ angel on earth. My girl.

Hello, you.

It’s been sixty-seven days since we met—sixty-seven beautiful days of studying my favorite subject. You’re lovely, princess. Everything about you is. Even the little things you do out of habit. The way you tuck your hair behind your ear when you’re stressed, lips pursed, eyes wide. I know every look, every smile, taking each beautiful change of your face into memory. I can read you like a book.

I wanted it to be natural. How blatantly obvious would it be if I rushed into rekindling a friendship with your brother just to rush into a relationship with you? I had to ease in. Infiltrate the family; make myself a staple in your home so I could learn more about you.

There’s no one else better suited for you than me, baby. There is no one that will anticipate your needs like I can. Take care of you like I will. I’m going to make my move… I just need a little more time. I don’t want to lose the part of you that I get to see when you don’t know I’m watching.

I tilt back, relaxing into the doorframe of Zach’s office as I wait for you to stop by with his lunch. You’re so sweet. I know you’re cuttin’ it close with you’re next class. Fuck, my girl’s thoughtful. I smile to myself, lowering my head to not bring too much attention to myself.

“Who’s got you smilin’ like that, buddy?”

Shit. I look down at the phone, thumbing out of your Instagram, moving to Tinder. “Uh, I just matched with that bartender at Lord Fletchers. I think,” I mumble, giving him a slight smile.

“Juliette?” He asks surprisedly. “Isn’t she datin’ the head football coach?”

My stomach sinks, caught in a simple, stupid lie. “Nah, not her. A different one. I don’t know,” I brush him off, furthering my disinterest by pretending to swipe through some more.

Oh, shit. Here you come. I lift my eyes, matching yours. Your smile doubles as I catch your attention. “Hi, Rafe,” you sing. My name rolling off your lips so sweetly. Oh my god.

“Hi, y/n,” I respond warmly. Your hand snakes around my waist, squeezing me. “You ready for that test tomorrow?”

You sucks your teeth and shake your head. “Not ready enough to go on a date tonight, I don’t think. But I haven’t gone out in so long… I think it would be good for me to give my brain a rest the night before, don’t you?” You ask as your stunning eyes soften on mine, looking up at me for approval as I try my best not to fall apart in front of you or, at the very least, lose my shit. How did I miss this?

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” I press the words past my lips. You smile and nod before setting the food down on the desk. “Well, I gotta run-”

”See you tonight?” I add hastily, trying to get more info about your plans just in case.

“We got that intramural basketball game tonight,” Zach reminds me, making my palms sweat just knowing that if the date is early enough, I won’t be able to tag along or intervene.

“Chett said 9 PM at Little Angie’s.”

“Chett? As in Chett Ryan?” I ask in disbelief as you mention the star quarterback. A good-looking dude, but he’s a fucking idiot and a Grade-A asshole. You’re way too good for him. He doesn’t deserve you. Doesn’t even deserve to breathe your air-

“Yeah,” you answer through a smile, yanking me out of my thoughts.

“Well, I’m goin’ to Lexi’s house, so you and Chett will have the place to yourselves if you wanna come back after the bar,” Zach chimes in. My body trembles with rage, holding back every urge to crawl over the top of his desk and choke him out for even suggesting it.

“It’s our first date, so I don’t know if that’ll happen but thank you,” you smiles giddily, making me physically ill. ”Shit,” you hiss, your attention pulled to your watch, clocking the time. “I’m gonna be late. I’ll see you tomorrow, Rafe, for the test,” you add breathlessly as you race away, fleeing for class.

“You proctoring tests now?” Zach laughs lightly, furrowing his brows.

“Ah, yeah,” I whirr, scratching at my 5 o’clock shadow, trying to find an excuse while also trying to gather my emotions as my whole world crumbles around me. “I-I owed Steve a favor for covering my class last week,” I stutter, confessing half the truth. Sure, Steve subbed for me, but only so I could follow y/n on her trip to Georgia Tech for the football game to ensure she was safe… Zach should be thanking me, honestly. Fuck off. The football game… I bite at the skin on my lip, putting together the pieces of why you had even gone in the first place. For him. For Chett… No, baby. Why?

“Cameron?” Zach chimes in. “You’re a little more dazed than usual, friend. You good?” He asks through a mouthful of food.

“Yeah, man. I’m good,” I nod. “It’s only a few hours.”

“What?” Zach asks confusedly.

“Proctoring…”

”Yeah…” He nods, his face laced with concern for me; I don’t even know how long I was drowning in my thoughts of her. I’m sure he’s wondering what’s going through my mind— why I’m acting weird. “You sure you're good? You seem upset.”

”Nah, man. I’m good. Just have some shit goin’ on I need to take care of,” I smile softly. “See you tonight?”

“Yeah… See you tonight, brother.”

“These are nice,” I breathe as I run my fingers along the pink petals with a smile, the spray of roses sitting pretty amongst the rest. “These, thanks.” I pull them out, handing them to the attendant, finishing into my back pocket for my wallet.

I head out the door, walking out onto the street; the busy college town teaming with students, pouring in and out of the bars. Cigarette smoke wafts all around, competing with the aroma of the late-night food trucks. I look ahead, catching the Little Angie’s neon boot sign kicking ahead. My excitement builds as I get closer and closer. You’re here. I look down at my phone, catching your location in the heart of the bar—my girl.

Shit. I look down at my other hand, tossing the wildflowers Chett had gotten you. He doesn’t know you at all… He doesn't know what you like. He doesn't deserve you. No one does. No one but me.

I push through the front door, heading back toward the bar as I match your pin to my surroundings. My eyes pull taunt as I try to spot you through the thick crowd. I take a seat, ordering a beer before turning my attention back to the search. My eyes work across the low-lit room, scouring for you. I can’t believe you’re still here after he stood you up. It’s almost like you knew I’d come and save you, princess.

There you are. Fuck, are you even real?

When I’m around you I swear I forget how to breathe. I find myself having to tear myself away—telling myself that staring too hard will do nothing but bring attention to the obvious, but I am so in love. How do I even look away? You’re perfect.

You looks sad. I know that’s my fault, pretty girl, but I promise I’ll make it all better. You rest your cheek in your hand, slumped over in your seat, swirling your vodka cranberry defeatedly. Your beautiful eyes glisten. I can’t tell if it’s just sheer beauty or if they might be glossed with tears. Your eyes shut heavily, shoulders relaxing a little more as you submit to your drunken state.

Oh, sweetheart. You need me.

“Can I close out my tab?” I ask the bartender, who gives me a little nod and a smile. I turn my attention back to you, watching as you sway ever so slightly with the music pouring from the speakers.

“Here you are, sir,” the bartender calls. I turn fast, scribbling a tip and a total. My stomach falls as I pull my hand away, leaving behind a red thumbprint, remnants of my run-in with Chett lingering. Fuck. I grab the slip of paper off the bar top, brushing my hand along my dark-wash jeans, thumbing through my wallet to grab some cash instead, tossing a tip on the counter in exchange. I push off the bar, walking toward my girl, checking myself as best as I can in the darkness to make sure that I don’t miss anything else, catching a few specks of blood on my white shirt. Shit. I grab the zipper of my quilted jacket, hiding the mess.

What was I thinking? I was so excited about gettin’ to you that I didn’t even think about cleanin’ up. I look down at my right hand: split knuckles, bloodied and bruised. I tug down my sleeve, just praying there isn’t any more I can’t see. “Y/n?”

Your eyes lift to mine, softening and welling with tears. “Rafey,” you slur out a whimper, eyes pinching shut. Your tears tumble down your cheeks as you try to get out your next few words to no avail.

”What’s goin’ on, princess?” I ask gently as I sit beside you, rubbing soft circles on your back.

“Ugh…” You humpfs. “I got stood up.” You hiccup before rolling your eyes in annoyance with Chett and your own emotions. “I can’t believe I’m even cryin’ over him, Rafey. I know he’s an asshole.” You cry, making my heart melt as you use that little nickname not once but twice.

“He is,” I laugh lightly, making you nod and sigh.

“Are you… M’shit. I’m sorry,” you mumble. “M’kinda drunk.”

“Hey. Hey. It’s alright,” I coo.

“Are you meeting a date?” You ask, and I swear I can see a new sort of sadness in your eyes at the idea of it. I follow your gaze, eyeing the arrangement of roses in my hand.

“Oh, me?” I stall. “Uh… No. I-uh… I came in here after our game. I saw you hangin’ out here for a while. Kinda put two-and-two together. N’when I went outside to have a cig, I bought them off some guy on the street.” I look back to you, my whole story all for not as you practically fall asleep at the table, your beautiful face propped up and smushed in your hand. “Bought them for you, honey,” I sigh blissfully as I use a pet name I've always wanted to use knowing tomorrow it wouldn't matter.

“Thank you, Rafey,” you whisper. Three times… “So - So… So good to me.”

“Let’s get you outta here. Huh?” I ask as I reach into my wallet, pulling out a hundred, tossing it on the table. You close your eyes and nod your heavy head.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” I breathe as I scoop my hand around your waist, lifting you to your feet. You melt into me, resting your head on my chest, snuggling in. I can’t help but lean down, pressing a kiss on your hair. I breathe you in, relishing this simple moment with you. “I love you, princess…” You look up at me, smiling sweetly. I hold my breath, even if you heard me say that there’s no way you’ll remember tomorrow. But still…

“Can we get pizza?” You ask, making me laugh.

“Anything you want you get, sweetheart.”

I know there’s nothing more to worry about, but I can’t help but get a little jealous knowing you dressed this way for Chett. You sway to the music on your record player, drunkenly singing along to the track between bites of pizza. You’re happier than when you were at the bar; your sadness before I came is long gone. You flash me a smile, setting my heart ablaze, pointing at me playfully as you circle your hips to the beat, dropping it to the floor, showing me the perfect glimpse of your plump ass. Fuck me. I bare with the pain, not wanting to make it blatantly obvious that my cock is strained in my pants.

“Help me?” You pout as you walk to me, lifting your hands in the air.

”With what…” My voice trails away as you step even closer. Your tits line up with my eyes from my seated position on the foot of your bed. My hands instinctively reach up, resting on your hips, testing the waters.

“Pajamas.”

“Oh - Oh. Of course,” I stammer as I lift your shift dress over your head. I hold back a moan, my head and mind racing out of control as I stand this close to you, the girl of my dreams in nothing but your bra and panties. And not just any panties, the panties I had taken from you last week. The panties I had wrapped around my cock that I had cum all over more times than I could count. Of course, I washed them and put them back, but what luck. It’s fate. Just stay calm.

You lets out a sleepy little yawn, stretching slightly, your back arching. Your cleavage pops a little more against the dainty lace; my eyes strain as I refuse to blink. I run my hand down your side, watching as goosebumps spread across your bare skin at my touch. Your nipples peak, teasing me under the barely-there fabric.

Help her, Rafe. I swallow hard, focusing on the task at hand, fighting back everything that I want to do. You move a little closer, slotting yourself between my thighs. I know it will be over if I look up and match your eyes. You’ll be too embarrassed in the morning if I do anything more—if I do what I need. I can feel your eyes on me. Your hand moves higher and higher, your soft touch cupping my chin, guiding my eyes to yours.

Holy shit. You smile down at me, your eyes hazed with lust and liquor. You run your thumb along my bottom lip, biting your own. I’m dreaming. I have to be. “Thank you,” you smile, your voice coming out so crisp and clear. This is no dream… This is just heaven on earth. Deep breath. Help her get into her pajamas and let her sleep it off. Tomorrow. If she genuinely wants me now, she’ll want me tomorrow. She needs me. Her trust is in me. I can’t mess this up. I need her too badly.

“Of course, sweetheart,” I whisper, allowing myself to drink you in a little more. I mean, I don’t want you to think I am not thoroughly enjoying this… This is the best moment of my life. Of course, after meeting her, that is.

I reach over on the bed, grabbing your satin pajama top. You take a little breath, going to say something, holding back, settling on a smile instead. I bet you were gonna ask for something from me. Probably wanting me to take off that pretty little bra of yours instead of giving her clothes to put on. I want to be your knight in shining armor tonight. I want to protect you; I want to keep you safe.

Tomorrow night, princess. I promise.

I’m addicted. I’m down bad. I’m in way, way too deep, but I can’t stop. I’ll never stop. You have no clue what you do to me. You have no idea how much time I have invested in you— in us. I have never been more fulfilled, princess. This is my destiny. You are mine; you just don’t know it yet…

You smile at me sheepishly, tucking some hair behind your ear before putting pen to paper and checking in for your test. You're hungover. I can tell—dark circles painted under your beautiful eyes, and the usual soft glow of your skin dimmed. You’re smart… You’ll have no problem taking this test, and if you do, it’s nothing I can’t fix for you.

You walk over to a locker, stripping off your purse and jacket, checking your phone before stuffing it inside as well. Holy shit… You shut the door, forgoing the lock altogether. Fuck, you’re too good to me, sweetheart. I’m sure you want me to take a peek. Don’t you? A smirk tugs on my lips, arms crossing over my chest as I stare you down.

You stride toward me, shoulders slumped. I’m sure you’re gonna apologize. I smile at you, wordlessly telling you I know what you’ll will say. You laugh weakly, letting out a deep, self-deprecating sigh. “Sorry about last night, Rafe. Thank you,” you smile sweetly, your voice just above a hush, not wanting anyone else to hear.

“You’re alright, Y/n. Glad I could get you home. Are you feelin’ alright?” I ask as I step a little closer.

“M’a little hungover,” you sigh. “I—I never get like that, I swear-”

“I know you don’t,” I stop you. Your brows rumple, my tone a little more knowing than you expected. ”Your brother mentioned you don’t really drink like that,” I correct myself, and you smile.

“Well, I’ll see you later, Rafe. Thank you.” You reach out, giving my bicep a squeeze that has my eyes darting to your hand on me. Oh fuck. You're walking toward the testing room before I can look up at you again. The door fans shut behind you, leaving me alone with the equivalent of your fuckin’ teenage diary. Everything I could want to know about you that I don’t know yet is on here. Please be unlocked.

“Shit,” I hiss, slamming my fist against the locker, eyes darting around fast as the sharp sting of regret pierces through me at my outburst. Pull it together, Cameron. I close my eyes, doing my best to compose myself as I tuck your phone at my side, walking back toward the desk. I look at you through the privacy glass. My girl is none the wiser—I smile as you answer the next question. Her birthday. Keep it simple. That's gotta be it. It’s not like she's got shit to hide.

I type in the six-digit code, my tension melting away; shoulders relaxing as I crack the code without any effort at all. Gotta hit the big four: messages, search history, pictures, Instagram. Don't get too greedy. I feel my cock twitch at the thought of this being in your hand. My mind instantly sails away to the shit you looks at that you’d probably delete your search history for. Hopefully, I caught you on an off day. Focus. Focus. Focus. I look over my shoulder as you breeze past the next question.

Messages, first.

Nothing crazy. A few to her friends, her brother, and a lab partner. My blood turns cold as I see Chett’s name. I click into your messages, teeth grinding, fist clenching as I read through the exchange.

Chett: you free tonight?

Y/n: I have a huge test tomorrow I'm sorry! Friday?

Chett: yeah we can do something on Friday too

Chett: cmon pretty. I owe you a beer

Y/n: just a beer? 😉

Chett: fuck… that's a yes?? Lets go to dinner then I owe you so so much

Y/n: I can't be out late tho

Chett: I know. I got you. I'm lucky ok. I know how you are.

Y/n: what does that mean?? 😂

Chett: your a good girl

Chett: i’ll meet you a little angies at 8. I've got workouts late ok??

Y/n: okay 💕

Chett: you better not stand me up

Y/n: never ☺️

Chett: on my way

Y/n: I'm at the bar

Y/n: found a table. We still on for 8?

Y/n: ???

Y/n: are you okay?

Y/n: just ran into your buddies. They said you ran into Kenzie on the street. Just fuck off alright? Why would you ask me out if you two were still a thing?

Y/n: I knew you were an asshole

Okay. Okay. Shit. My hands tremble as I read and reread your words. Just a clusterfuck of feelings seeing you this excited, this angry; this upset over that asshole. He ran into Kenzie? I'm sure they caught up. I'm sure he had second thoughts about your date. About you? How could someone have second thoughts about you? I knew I did you a favor.

I click into the search history. Cleared. God damnit. That leaves two more pieces to the puzzle. Instagram and pictures. I pull up your socials, thumbing to the shit only I get to see. The DMs are the same as your texts; it's nothing crazy. Search bar… I click into it, seeing your recent searches. Chett… You motherfucker. Haunting me, you goddamn dick- Oh…

Rafe Cameron

I blink a few times, pinching my eyes closed before fluttering them open as I see MY name on YOUR screen. “No fucking way,” my voice comes out needy and hoarse, cracking with all the want I feel for you. I gasp for a breath, filling my lungs with needed air. How is this happening? I rub my hand across my mouth, snuffing out my smile. Jesus Christ. Best day of my fuckin’ life.

I look over my shoulder, praying I have enough time to browse your hidden folder in your camera roll. Five questions left. I open the folder, my hand instantly reaching for the edge of the desk, my rock-hard cock finally giving way as I cum in my slacks at the sight of you in lingerie. My heart pounds in my ears and chest as I thumb through the rest, watching in horror as a wet, warm spot forms on my khakis. Fuck. There’s five more pictures… My goddess. My fuckin’ princess… Look at you, baby. Two more questions left. Put the fuckin’ phone back, Rafe. The phone trembles as I unhide all five, moving quickly to your messages before typing in my number, sending them to myself, deleting everything fast. I swear I could’ve cum again just feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket, knowing what I have saved for myself.

I swipe everything closed as I walk back to the locker bay, stuffing the phone inside your purse, slamming the door shut before the testing door swings open. I turn my body away, walking toward the exit, checking on a knock that never happened; turning my body in the opposite direction before matching your eyes. “So, how did it go?” I smile, positioning myself so you can’t see the absolute mess you caused.

“Good, actually,” you sighs, relief laced in your tone and demeanor as you pop open your locker. I step behind the desk, leaning into the counter just enough to ensure that my little secret is safe.

Good girl.

I swear I can’t go to bed without my nightly ritual; I stand outside your window, hidden just out of view, cloaked in the darkness of the hedges gathered around the perimeter of your apartment. Some nights I have the pleasure of being in your space; other nights, I settle for the next best thing, but honestly, even here is paradise.

Some nights, you stay up late, the apples of your cheeks glowing in the dim of your room as you browse your phone; other nights, you moves through your apartment chatting on the phone with your friends, smiling and laughing, every fiber of my being just wishing it was me on the other line. But on special nights, nights like this, your hand slips into your night stand pulling out your favorite vibrator, playing with your pussy like I could only dream of doing.

I never get to see what goes on underneath the covers or hear the sweet noises you make, but I get to see the pleasure painted all over your face. I can’t help but pull my cock out of my pants, stroke my dick while you work on yourself. Are you thinking about me? I always dreamed you were, but after seeing your search history, it’s not out of the realm of possibility. What if you're saying my name? My beautiful girl.

“Fuck, baby,” I pant as you grab the covers, throwing them off your body, my precum mixing with my sweaty palm as I take in the sight before me. I watch as the silicon cock glistens with your slick, making me spit on my dick to mirror the sight. My fist works over my dick, whimpering and moaning your name as I keep your pace. My thigh muscles tremble as I fixate on your every movement.

I know I should walk away, but there’s no force on this earth strong enough to pull me away from this. I bite my lip as you throw your head back into your pillow, back arching off the mattress.

And just like that, I fall deeper and deeper into my mind. “Where are we fuckin’ tonight, princess?” I mumble, envisioning us in the same room. “My office? Fuck, you’re bad, sweetheart? You sure? Sure you can’t wait until we get home? God damn, angel. You need it that bad? Need daddy’s dick right here, right now?” I moan as my muscles clench tight.

I swear I draw blood, pinching my bottom lip between my teeth as you drag your hand up, pulling your shirt with it, exposing your perfect breasts. You squeeze and twist your nipple, circling softly just like I would. “My lips will be on you, I swear to Christ,” I moan, picturing my parted lips sucking down on your tits; catching your breasts in my mouth as they bounce.

“Stop hidin’, honey,” I grunt as your legs draw closer, and I swear you heard me because your thighs widen on the mattress, splaying out for me and only me. What I wouldn't pay to bury myself in your cunt, princess. I’ve sucked on your panties more times than I can count; memorized your taste. I need the real thing. I wanna feel the warmth of your body against me, tongue pumping in and out of that tight little hole of yours.

Your mouth falls open, chest heaving, muffled cries heard through the glass. Just a whisper, but my ears have never been more blessed. I look down at my cock for a split second, just enough time to run some spit down on my throbbing head, making me hiss out a breath. I make a tight fist, imagining myself sinking into your slick pussy as you lay on a pile of my class papers, a little pleated skirt riding up around your waist, your wet cunt just begging for me to fill it, sucking me in.

“Such a sloppy cunt. Fuck… Perfect for me,” I mutter, returning my eyes to you, watching as your arousal leaks out of your pussy as you continue to stroke, dirtying the sheets below. I run my hand across my sweaty forehead, slicking back my bangs in the process, switching my hold to my balls to play with them, trying desperately to cum with you for your second time. “Slow down, Y/n… Shittt. Pussy’s too good. You wanna come with daddy. Don't you? Yeah you do. Atta baby.”

Another muffled moan bleeds through the glass. I need to hear you. Fuck, I need to know what you sound like. I release my cock with a panting gasp, fumbling for the glass, resting my clammy palms against it as I hold my breath, cracking it ever so slightly. There we go. I move even closer, resting a hand on the brick wall, eyes rolling back in my skull as I wrap my fingers around my girthy dick again.

“Rafe…” She pants, and my eyes double, stomach falling, breath fleeing my chest, drowning in my own pleasure as my name leaves your lips. Say it again. Fucking say it, baby. Tears of joy fill my eyes as warmth spreads from my head to my toes.

I listen closely, catching the sounds of your sopping core squelching through your room, cries and sighs of pleasure coming back to back as I bite my shirt, holding back my own. “Just like that, Rafey. Fuckkk, daddy. I’m cumming,” you cry in a throaty, fucked-out voice that has me cumming harder than I ever have in my life, ropes, and ropes of cum painting the brick wall of your apartment building as I watch your finish.

I look down in exhaustion as my cum rolls down the wall, before closing my eyes in utter bliss, just imagining it leaking out of your cunt. My goddamn pussy. “Tomorrow-” I pant as I lift my trembling hand, pointing my cum-coated finger against the glass with a smug smile that I wish you could see. “M’taking you out and then we’re comin’ back here and I’m going to make every one of your fantasies come true, honey. M’gonna be all you need. I swear,” I coo.

I watch you as you lay there, hands trailing your beautiful body, calming yourself down with touch. You're lonely, baby. You don't need to be… Let me take care of you. You let out a sleepy yawn, stretching out on the mattress.

“Fuck,” I grumble, post-nut clarity setting in as I realize what the fuck I just did, regretting none of it, just hoping that someone didn’t see me. The street is empty. Just perfect. I grab my boxers, pulling them up as you tuck your toy into your nightstand, fastening my pants as you snuggle into your sheets.

No.

Your eyes lock with mine, and with that, time stands still. My heart hammers in my chest as your expression changes from confusion to terror. You let out a blood-curdling scream as I try to pull myself away, but I’m frozen with fear. Run. Fuck! You fumble for your phone as I walk away from the window, my eyes never leaving you until I’m falling back on the curb, struggling to my feet, sprinting as fast as my feet will take me.

“I’ve ruined everything. What the hell have I done?” My heart shatters into a million pieces as I run down the block, charging toward my car as I fight my keys out of my pocket. Tears and snot wet my face, my whole body sheened with sweat, shivering with adrenaline. ”Not only am I going to lose her, but I’m gonna lose everything else. My job. My reputation. Everything. Fucking everything.” I slam my finger against the keyless start; engine roaring as I peel out onto the street, trying to put distance between me and you.

What the hell can I say to make this better? No one will understand. I can’t fucking help it. I can’t help who I am. I can’t help that I love you. That I want to keep you safe. Is that a crime? I’m obsessed with you. It’s like— I think about you all the time. Every second of my fucking life. But isn’t that what love should be like?

I let out a shaky breath, catching my reflection in the rearview mirror, my cheeks soaked with tears, eyes glassy with emotion. If I can’t have you, I don’t want to live. I don’t… I-I can’t. My foot slams on the gas, barreling down the freeway toward the bridge, watching as the needle on the speedometer climbs higher and higher as cars swerve and dart out of my path.

What is the point if I can’t have you?

I’m nothing without you.

My knuckles ghost white, as I blink the tears out of my eyes, sobbing like a child as the speedometer blasts past 100. I feel the dismare in my heaving chest plaguing me like a virus, the only warmth in my heart gone now that I’ve lost you. Just fucking empty—goddamn hollow. The only thing I’ve ever truly wanted is gone. You were the best thing that has ever been mine and I didn’t even get to tell you… I lift my hand to wipe away the tears as the road blurs before me.

Days of watching you, not one moment forgotten. I was almost a part of your world. Why did I wait so long? Why did I wait until it was too late? You were saying my name? You wanted me just as bad as I wanted you…

The world around me gets a little brighter as I pull onto the bridge, illuminated with streetlamps, before the world dives off into the dark waters below.

What if she feels guilt? What if she blames herself? What if this ruins hers too?

I thread through the gap of cars, vehicles slamming on their breaks around me, unable to swerve on the bridge like they were on the road before making every move sharper; more erratic—the line thinning, between life and death.

Maybe she’ll forgive me after I’m dead…

RING. RING. RING.

I look down at my phone, seeing your brother's name light up the screen. “Hello?” I choke the word out, biting my lips to hold back my sniffles and sobs as I speed closer and closer to the edge, waiting for him to blow out my speakers. ‘ASSHOLE. PERV. STALKER. PSYCHOPATH-’

“Hey, Rafe. You good, man?” He asks worriedly, his gentle voice pulling me out of the pit. My foot pulls off the glass as I’m hit with a sliver of hope, before slamming on the breaks. My tires screech as my car skids across the bridge, stomach falling as I get so close to the edge that the grille of my Cadillac kisses the guardrail, nothing but blackness and open water before me.

“M’Yeah. Yeah. I’m good.”

You dive into my arms, hands wrapped tightly around my waist as you bury your head in my chest. Your warm, wet tears soak through my shirt, blessing my skin as I hold you close. “Thank you so much for coming, Rafe,” you sniffle.

“Of course, Y/n,” I whisper as you tremble in my arms like a leaf. “Did you get a good look at him?”

You shake your head, letting out a frail little sigh. “No…”

“Go inside. Aight? You’ve been through enough. Let me check it out. I’ll be in in a second. Okay?” You nod, looking up at me with doe-eyes and a trembling lip. I cup your tear stained cheek in my hand, brushing your skin nice and soft. You tilt into me, needing me closer. “I’m sorry you went through this… But, it’s just some creep. I’m not gonna leave you tonight. I swear.”

“Thank you,” you whimper.

“‘Course, sweetheart.”

“Now, you, get inside and try to relax. Huh? It’ll only take me a second.” You nod and step inside, holding my hand until the last moment.

I walk down the stairs, strolling through the landscaping to your window. I suck my teeth, looking down at the stained brick before lifting my hand, running my thumb along my tongue, scrubbing the little cum mark I left with my finger. “All clear,” I whisper, smiling to myself as my night takes a turn for the better.

I walk up your steps, stepping into the apartment as you pour a glass of wine for you and I. “Thank you, Rafe. I’m so glad you’re here,” you smile, your voice weak as you walk toward me in your satin pajamas, passing me a glass.

“Call me anytime you need me. Okay?” I smile as I reach my hand out for you. You tangle your fingers in mine, moving a little closer, rising on your tippy toes, pressing a soft kiss on my cheek.

The two of us walk over to the couch, taking a seat. You snuggle into my chest just like you did at the bar. Your body relaxes in mine. The adrenaline and excitement of the night wears off fast, and it’s not long before your eyes start to beat closed. I don’t think I can sleep. I don’t want to. Truthfully, I could stay this way forever with you. Your soft sounds fill my ears as I focus on your breathing and the shape of your body in mine. I couldn’t dream of a more perfect moment with you, sweetheart. My girl. Mine. A satisfied smile plays on my lips as I reach over, flicking on the evening news.

“Hello, my name is Belle Lee, reporting live from the downtown district. An investigation is underway after a University student was found dead with multiple gunshot wounds. College officials have identified the victim as 22-year-old Chett Lee from Tampa Bay, Florida. This is an active investigation. Any tips or other information can be directed to the local authorities. Currently, there are no known suspects in this gruesome murder.”

A smirk pulls on my lips as I flick off the TV, darkness falling all around us. I lift you into my arms, holding you close, walking you to your room before setting you down on the mattress. I rub my thumb across you pillowy lips, not wanting to push it too far by kissing you goodnight. My belly stirs as I think about the cum I had just cleaned off the glass, any reminents now hanging on your perfect lips.

I’ll just have to settle for that tonight.

I stroke your hair gently, brushing it off your beautiful face. Just leave, Rafe… Just—I succumb to my urges, kissing your forehead instead, lingering as long as I possibly can before pulling away. Your eyes match mine, staring up at me.

“Stay.”

@nadvs it was so amazing brainstorming with you. I am such a fan of your work and you are such an amazing person 💕 thank you babe 😭.

[porcalinecunt]

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋. ♡

🎀 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ thinking about aot men who’d be the softest doms ever . . .

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍, 𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇, 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍, 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐓

cw — fem!reader. size kink (erwin) body worship (jean, levi) praise kink. lots of breedings. edging, fingering, some nipple play (levi) sub!armin (implied)

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : hi hi! it’s been a while since i made an actual post here. apologies! life got busy, but i finally have time to make fics again :D there might be some changes on this account but we’ll see! anyways, please enjoy and feedback is welcomed! 🤍

➸ jean kirstien.

he’s already so much of a sweetheart, so it’s not shock he’s carry that to the bedroom. he’s needy but slow, as it’d be way too easy to accidentally hurt you. the size difference aroused yet made him a bit nervous. (the first time was quite a hassle!) nonetheless, jean gave you the fuckin’ princess treatment every time the both of you would get intimate. kissing every inch of your body while caressing your hips with his large hands. he’d gently lay your down, not pulling away from the sloppy kiss the two of you are engaging in. did i mention that this man is huge? he adores watching you struggle to take him completely, squirming and whining as he stretches your smaller cunny inch by inch.

“j-jean..’s too big!” you whined, watching through glassy eyes as your boyfriend hovered over you, sinking himself deeper and deeper into your weeping cunt. your legs twitch in a failing attempt to keep them open, something jean would immediately notice. “does it hurt babe?” he asked in a groan, hazel eyes carving holes into yours through hooded lids. you could only shake your head as he took it as a confirmation to bottom himself out. your eyes rolled to your brain and your jaw went slack as jean watched in awe. “look at you..taking it so well f’me.” he sighed, slowly beginning to pump you full as ecstasy filled your senses. the only thing you could hear were jean’s sweet praises, telling you how much of a good little girl you were for taking him so well and patiently. your head grew hot as the feeling of his dick stuffing you full began to overwhelm you. “good little girl, always taking my dick so well..fuck you’re so cute!”

➸ erwin smith.

oh my god. erwin. what more can i say, he’s a gentleman in bed! anything you ask for, he will do without hesitation. want him to knock you up? done. want some head? he’s already on his knees. sad after a rough day? he’ll stuff your cunny full until your filled n happy. anything your heart desires, he’ll give it to you with all the adoration he has for you. ♡ even better when you realize how big he is. how he can easily pick you up and fuck you silly in mid air if he really wanted to. even better, how massive his fucking dick is, enough to make your mouth water just by the thought of it.

“e-erwin!” you whined, watching your husband’s face as he stared down at you. a gaze full of softness and love, a stark contrast to how he was treating you. a smile to his wife while fucking her slutty pussy like an attention deprived whore. “how did i get so lucky? what did i do to deserve such a beautiful girl as my wife..” he breathily chuckled, fucking into you at a slightly faster pace. erwin started down at you, from your flustered smile to your breasts and stuffed cunt, every last detail on you brought him closer to the edge. “good girl..my good girl. you deserve every inch i give you..”

➸ levi ackerman.

contrary to popular belief, levi isn’t the mean and rough dom many make him out to be (still adore that levi tho!) but rather, a gentle and passionate type of dom. he’s not the most romantic, but oh boy, when he is..buckle up. this man will treat you like your his final meal on death row, savoring every inch of flesh you have on your body. kissing you from your lips to your clit, muttering sweet nothings while pumping his slender fingers inside your cunny. he sings his praises when he’s balls deep in you, calling you names like ‘princess’ and ‘darling’, anything that fills your stomach with butterflies if its not his cock. your legs are already trembling from his voice alone, not helping the fact his groans are fuckin’ perfection.

“settle down princess, i barely did a thing.” levi carassed your breast with one hand while finger fucking you with the other. all he needed was two fingers and his wrist as he flicked it with a quickened pace that almost forced your thighs shut from shock and pleasure. while your mouth was closed, tiny whines still manage to spill through as your husband’s thumb moved it’s way to your clit, adding to the overstimulation. with his other hand, he tugged and played with your nipple while letting go just to take a gentle squeeze to your whole breast. you’re thighs shook as your orgasms reaches closer and you grabbed the coller of levi’s loose shirt for support. “‘s becoming too much princess? you wanna cum all over my fingers?” he spoke in a gentle and low tone, making you nod eagerly to his question. “How cute, shit—if only I could do this everyday.”

➸ armin arlot.

armin armin armeeen! <3 you already know what kind of man he is. his partner’s pleasure is a priority he takes very seriously, from letting you choose the position to making sure you orgasm first before he spills his seed inside you. he gives you princess treatment even after sex, not letting up until you knock out from exhaustion. he fucks you like your a goddess, hitting every sensitive spot in your while singing his praises. he wants, no, needs to see you cum around his cock as it’ll make the night worth it. he won’t lie, seeing you whimpering and shamelessly getting off to him servicing you never fails to push him over the edge and nearly fuck a baby in you. this man is a keeper!

“t-this good enough for you..?” armin sighed, watching you take in his dick inch by inch until you’ve completely sat down on it. “y-yeah..fuck you’re huge..!” you whined out, grabbed his thighs and trying your best to move while the overwhelming pleasure had you shaking. the blonde placed his hands on the plush of your hips, firmly holding it as he lifted you up from his cock before slamming you back down on it. a yelp tore from your throat, nails digging into the flesh of his thigh and your eyes screwed shut from the sharp pleasure. “right there! armin fuck..!” you mewl as he guided your hips, slamming his cock in and out of you at the pace you desired the most. his blue eyes peered through his bangs as he grew redder and redder from the expression you wore so beautifully. mouth parted open in an ‘o’ shape with slightly arched eyebrows, pink washed over your face with red sitting right on your cheeks. fuck, he was insatiable. “yes..just like that love, just like you wanted. always taking it like the good girl you are. ♡”

© porcalinecunt 💌 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[monzamash]

easy to please lando norris x you rating – mature (sexual themes, coarse language) blurb for ✨monzamusings✨

thinking about u, the text read. above it, there was a photo – dark, a little bit blurry, possibly a figment of your weary imagination. a hand pressing down on black cotton, tanned and veiny – a hand you immediately recognised. fingers too, gripping the thin material and an outline that had you sitting up in bed, lazy smile slipping across your flushed cheeks as the picture came into focus. lip bitten. baby, was all you sent in reply. your eyelids fluttered shut momentarily, loosing the battle to sleep until you felt your phone buzzing, resting in your slack hand. they were coming thick and fast and bringing you back into the present. your fingers tingled from the sensation when you held it up and nearly dropped the bright screen on your squinting forehead. don’t baby me i miss u can i call please???? winky face emoji.

you sighed sharply into the plush pillow beside your head, wondering whether or not you had the energy for it. the appetite was always there. hell – all you could think about was him; even in the mundane moments, he was everywhere you looked – your work, your friends, the cheesy rom com that made you cry before wrapping yourself up in a blanket and falling asleep. you missed him. the back and forth, the will they won’t they bullshit nearly sending you into a spiral of complete and utter confusion. the future was uncertain; the distance between where you were and wherever he was in the world unbearable but what you did know was that you loved him, missed him. and he was yours.

heartbreakingly so. alright romeo but make it quick always am hehe. dickhead.

the phone call connected after one, maybe half a ring – there was no pretence anymore with you and lando. this was routine now, the late night calls across oceans, and it was always the same. whispered, i miss you's and i love you's, strangled moans, hands frantically chasing the high of what you knew felt like heaven together, by whatever means necessary, the best dirty talk you could ever imagine, barely tiding you over until you could be close enough to feel each other again.

“hi pretty girl.”

“hi boyfriend”

“ugh, i love it when you call me that. say it again…”

and you did, over and over until the late night giggles took hold and lando couldn’t breathe – the goofy smile scrunching the corners of his dry eyes, fatigue and exhaustion lingering in his hoarse voice.

“you should be sleeping.”

“i would be if you were here,” he stated matter of fact, not even a blinking, “i think i got used to having you with me over winter break… spoiled me too much and now i'm ruined for life.”

“so dramatic.”

“i’m being so real,” he yawned and by the soft grumble on the other end, he was definitely stretching out his sore, weary muscles like cat. there was a beat and a click of the tongue before lando spoke again, the ominous silence already making your eyes playfully roll.

“so… what are you wearing right now?”

“unbelievable…”

“you cant blame a man for asking, especially in my hour of need… show me pleeeeease” lando whined, toothy smile no doubt lining his chapped lips.

“what if I’m not wearing anything?” you taunted, snapping a quick photo and sending it through without a second thought.

lando quickly peaked, side-eyeing the screen sneakily and sighed when he realised you were pulling his chain, “i'm wearing some shirt you left behind because it’s hotter than satan's asshole here in london at the moment.”

he groaned more to himself than to you, eyes scanning your curves under the thin material, fixated on how unconstricted you were under the shirt he recognised, breasts pert. lando was restless and you really did deserve more than the desperado ‘what are you wearing’ pick up line but god, he wanted to know, no, he needed to know because if he didn't find out, he feared he may never recover.

after all, it was you that had him sick in love. and perpetually horny.

“think i might like you in my clothes more than naked…"

“you’re a sicko.”

“mmm you make me like this… and no bra, like are you trying to kill me?”

“always.”

you cupped your chest over his shirt and took another photo, teasing the gorgeous man waiting for your every move with bated breath. he’d sucked in his bottom lip, you could hear by how shallow his breathing had become, reminiscent of a panting dog – the sound alone quickened your heart rate. the image of him sitting in a hotel room alone, hand pressed to his aching cock thinking about you, parched to the point of a sleepless night was dizzying.

and it was easy with lando, the familiarity of his voice and the rhythm you effortlessly fell into. all remnants of consciousness melted away with him.

“wish i was there with you baby,” he whispered and you nodded, smiling, even though he couldn’t see how happy it made you to hear him say it.

“me too,” you sighed, relaxing into the stillness until your loud, obnoxious doorbell shook you from the peaceful silence.

“fuck!” you cursed, frozen in place.

“what?” 

“someones at the door…”

“what time is it there?”

“like 11pm… should i ignore it?” you were already grabbing the cardigan you'd thrown over the end of your bed and halfway to the door, curiosity winning out.

“nah, nah. you’re on the phone with me – answer it,” he encouraged, “i wanna make sure it isn’t your side piece coming ‘round when i’m not there.”

“ha-ha, actually my other boyfriend is already here, i've been trying to get you off the phone this whole time...”

"hmm, lucky cunt." he mumbled.

lando made you brave, stupidly brave so you swung the door open without hesitation, locked and loaded with a line of interrogating questions for the person interrupting the precious time you had with the man you love.

but you were hearing double as you held the phone to your ear and looked up – you knew that mess of frazzled curls and tired eyes anywhere, peering back with a smile the size of the moon curling at the corners of his lips. he was bundled up in a hoodie, one you knew would feel warm to the touch and smelled like him.

you had to be dreaming.

“better go tell your other boyfriend to pack his shit and get the fuck out of our house.”

“lando…” tears welled in your eyes as you lunged into his open arms.

“hi pretty girl…” he chuckled, picking you up without hesitation and hooked your legs around his waist, carrying you over the threshold.

“why didn’t you say you were coming home?”

“surprises are sexy, no?” he asked, voice deliciously low. he knew your answer.

“very sexy.” you moaned and pressed firm, fiery kisses into his strong neck, “you’re so sexy – all of this is sexy… god, i love you.”

“love you too sweetheart – let’s go to bed.”

“to sleep?” you asked, with doe-eyes and a devilish grin.

“yeah, i flew eleven fuckin' hours to just sleep… oh and by the way," lando narrowed his eyes and pointed to the crinkled shirt hanging from your shoulders, you looked a mess.

"i want my shirt back right now.”

you hummed and twirled down the hallway, “you’re gonna have to pry it off my cold, horny body, norris…”

“mission accepted,” lando confidently stated, chest puffed as he started stripping his hoodie from his body and inched closer and closer to where you were stood and all you could do was admire the gorgeous man stalking towards you.

oh, and blink a few times to make sure you definitely weren't dreaming, "i can't believe you were sexting me in the back of a cab."

“i know," he chuckled, "it was getting a bit much by the end there, so i walked the last couple of blocks to calm myself down."

you couldn't suppress the moan building in your throat at his touch and his confession – your mind was running wild, "that's so hot."

"you are." he quipped, hands slowly tracing your sides and cupping your chest in his warm palms.

"this is way better than phone sex.”

lando shrugged as you ran your hands down his toned stomach, thumbs circling the indents just above his hips, “i’ll take anything with you – it’s all good to me.”

“you’re easy to please.”

“well, you make it easy – god, look at you,” he exhaled, brushing the loose strands of hair from your face and all you could do was smile.

“i’m glad you’re home, ya goof. it doesn't feel right without you here."

“me too, baby. meee too.” lando smiled and planted a longing kiss to your pouty lips.

more writing...

bit of backstory with this blurb; it was originally going to be a follow up to another fic i wrote called lost in japan and then got buried in the wip graveyard. somehow it resurfaced in my doc folder right when i needed it and i feel like it still kinda fits in the lost in japan universe - selfishly i love those characters. anyways, i hope you enjoyed it 💋

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

Sukuna "asshole to the world, sweetheart to his girl" Ryomen

🎀minors and ageless blogs will be blocked 🎀

Pairing: Yakuza!Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

Genre: Smut, dark hero.

Word Count: 1450

Warnings: first off, fucking sukuna himself is a warning on his own so let's just start there. Possessive Sukuna, dark sukuna, yakuza sukuna, shitty boss, mean fucking asshole boss, violence, against boss, dacryphillia, p in v sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, read at your own discretion.

Summary: Sukunas heard you cry because of your boss one too many times. He takes matters into his own hands

A/N: This absolutely SPECTACULAR ART is by @innaillus and you can find the original here.

I want to thank her, not only for allowing me to use this as a banner but also for making such amazing art and sharing it with us. ♥️

This is a purely self indulgent fic. If you don't like it, please don't read it. I had a shitty week and needed a place to cool off.

Sukuna Ryomen glared down at your boss. He’d come in to pick you up and heard the creature screaming at you for something he already knew wasn’t your fault. You’d told him about the trouble you were having with your co-workers who slacked off and your shitty fucker of a boss who for some reason didn’t tell them off, but instead unloaded his anger on you. This would be the last time this pathetic vermin made you cry, he vowed.

He pushed open the door to your small office and stalked in. You stood in the corner trying to make yourself as small as possible, silent tears streaming down your face as your boss kept berating you – not even noticing his presence. One of the other workers tried to step in his way but he shoved them aside like they were nothing more than window curtains. He placed himself in between you and the balding middle aged man who dared to call himself your boss. “Hey nimrod, she doesn’t work for you anymore. Don’t fucking yell at her.”

The man cowered. Sukuna was taller than him and his crossed arms made his thick muscles ripple under his skin.

“Ryo…” you whispered

“Wh-who let th-this man in here? Sir, th-this is an office space. You n-need to leave.” your boss sneered at your saviour.

Sukuna merely smirked at you and pulled you into his side placing his lips on the top of your head in a chaste kiss. “Yeah, don't worry, I’ll be going pretty soon. Breathing the same air as you is making me feel nauseated. Can't believe the patience my baby girl had with your shit-ass, fucker” his first met the man's stomach with a sickening squelching crunch, and your now ex-boss, crumpled onto the floor in a heap.

“I'm gon-gonna call the cops on you asshole’ he croaked out.

Sukuna just laughed. “Have at it, ya great ballsack.”

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

When Sukuna came to pick you up from work that day he had planned the night down to a T. He’d wanted to take you to a new movie that you'd been itching to see but hadn't had the time. He would follow that with a fancy sushi dinner at the city's best restaurant and then take you to the outskirts where there was a nice little viewpoint he had discovered where he planned on showing you the stars – in more than one way…

But when you didn't come out at your specified time, nor answer the cute message he’d sent you – Where you at, kitty-kat? – Sukuna decided to investigate and came across your asshole of a boss yelling at you. He’d had enough. You’d been coming home and complaining about him and even once returned in tears. It took everything he had to not rip the bastard’s throat out. But he was done with you being abused. You deserved better. Which is exactly what he told you now as you lay with him on the hood of his car.

The plans had been altered slightly, you would be watching the movie with him the next day. He’d skipped the fancy sushi and instead opted for your favourite comfort food – Chinese cuisine. Slurping down saucy noodles, and munching on crispy gyoza always made you feel better he knew and he found himself smiling at your joy. He’d then driven you to his secret viewpoint. You sat there on the hood of his car with him beside you. In the distance, the pretty lights of Tokyo lit up the horizon and reflected off your lover's red eyes. Above you, the stars twinkled in their own magic…

Something about you had him wrapped around your finger. One of the most feared yakuza, putty in your hands. Of course, no one knew the connection. It was all kept hushed for your convenience.

“Kitty-kat?” Sukuna called to you and you looked up at your man. “You know— you know I’m rich enough to support both of us easily right?”

You hummed. “Yes, but I don’t wanna be some dainty housewife, sitting and waiting for my husband to come home and serve him dinner Ryo! I have a whole ass degree that a lot of money was spent on, I’d like to use it babe!”

“Husband?”

“What?”

“You said, husband. Not boyfriend. Or SO. Or partner. You said husband.”

“Yeah… I said husband…”

“You wanna marry me?”

“I mean, yeah, eventually right?”

Sukuna crashed his lips into yours in a heated kiss; all teeth and tongue. He pulled your body close, pressing against you. “I want you so bad right now, future wife. I want you so fucking badly.” He half growled in your ear.

“You have me Ryo. I’m right here.” you replied. You tugged at Sukunas pants and he unbuckled his belt. Sukuna grinded against your thigh while kissing you. His hands tugged at the buttons on your blouse, undoing them as he went. You could feel the bulge growing in his jeans. He kissed down from your lips, to your jaw, to your neck down to the valley of your breasts.

“I wanna fuck you.” He looked at you with a lidded gaze “May I? I won’t be able to stop if we go further than this kitty-kat.”

You lifted your leg to rub against his clothed cock. “I’d leave you right now if you didn’t, Sukuna Ryomen. So fuck me already.” Sukuna flashed you a fanged smile and dipped his head pulling down your bra and freeing your breasts. He bit and licked and sucked, actions that were sure to leave marks on you. Further south his fingers pushed aside your panties and found entrance. He slowly worked his way into you, rubbing gentle circles in your skin. You allowed yourself to let go and dirty moans slipped out from your lips. Your fingers tangled in his pink hair – so soft, so smooth.

Once he had you dripping, he lay back down and ordered, “Sit on my face, and suck my cock while you’re at it.”

You followed, undoing his zipper and pulling his boxers and jeans off his semi-hard cock. You tentatively licked his head as you positioned your pussy right about his face. Sukuna pushed your skirt up and ripped your panties with a practised ease, pulling your hips down to his face. He loved having you like that. Every time he flicked his tongue against your clit your pussy would visibly tighten. You’d drool down the length of his cock hypnotised. Tongue flat against it as you struggled to maintain composure. It wouldn’t take long for him to make you cum all over his face for the first time. Legs quivering and hips shaking he brought you down again, laying you on the hood for him.

He lined up his cock – now rock hard from your mouth – with your entrance and sank into you. Slowly pushing his bulbous head, followed by his girthy length. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

Sukuna thrust up into you. Your lips were hot and burning. You felt a wave of emotion come through and tears welled up in your eyes.

“Fuck Ryo— feels s’good!”

Sukuna snarled and increased his pace. His eyes glinted dangerously. “Feels good, huh kitty-kat! Gonna make you mine. No man’s gonna dare fuck with you again.” His movements were rough and jagged but drew out the pleasure in your core. The tightly wound knot in your abdomen built up with each movement, each drawn out pull, each hard thrust. You arched your back desperate to have him more, more, more!

Your second climax hit just as Sukuna grabbed a fistful of your hair. Your cunt spasmed, clasping around him and you cried out his name in a debauched prayer.

Sukuna looked more composed than he felt. His cock throbbed inside you, attuned to the flutters of your pussy. Just because you’d come didn’t mean he would stop. He chased his own release inside of you pulling your hair back, devouring your lips. His cock bullied you to the point of overstimulation. Tears ran down your cheeks again but this time they were those of pleasure.

He came, towering over you, eyes squeezed shut, head buried in the crook of your neck. His giant frame collapsed onto you and he carefully rolled off to the side so he wouldn't crush you.

“So, about that husband thing…”

You turned to look at him, blushing. “Ryo…”

He held up a ring; the ring his father left him. Gold work, carved into a dragon that held a shiny black pearl in its claws.

“I’ll get you a prettier one later, I promise but for now…” he took a deep breath. “Marry me, kitty-kat?”

A/N: please note this was a very hurried creation and edit, if you do find any errors or typos feel free to point them out KINDLY. Thank you for reading.

As always likes and reblogs are much appreciated and comments will earn you kissies!

[luveline]

i love dad au’s! what about kbd!steve feeling a little overwhelmed and accidentally snapping and it startles one of the girls? like dove walking in their bedroom when you’re trying to calm him down. love your work❤️

thank u for requesting!! mom!reader, 1.1k

A hard knock on the door startles you. You don’t think one of the girls could emit so much force, so you assume it to be your husband. “Yeah, babe, I’m getting dressed.” 

“I need to talk to you.” 

“Okay,” you say, not worried, but not not worried. Nobody ever likes hearing that phrase without a quick follow up. You pull your pants over damp legs and leave the towel around your shoulders to catch any run off, opening the door for Steve where he waits on the other side. He looks strange; he’s not smiling. You go to touch his face and he ducks away from your touch.

“Steve, what?” you ask, confused. 

He peels away into the bedroom. You follow quickly. You want to close the door but think better of it —Dove is in her room with a faulty baby monitor.  

“I need more help,” he says tightly. 

“Okay. With what?” 

“No, that’s the problem. I can’t keep telling you everything.”

He sounds so angry so suddenly, it isn’t like him. You fight the urge to be defensive, and then the want to cry, holding out one of your hands to him in the universal gesture for calm down. “Okay. I’m sorry. Just give me some leeway, okay? Because the thing that you’re mad about right now has been stewing with you for ages, but this is the first I’ve heard about it.” 

He sits down hard on the end of the bed. You stand there for a few seconds, tense, but you really, really love him. You get down onto your knees and look up into his face, clasping your hand loosely around his ankle. “I’m sorry, H. Please don’t be angry with me yet.” 

“I’m not angry with you, I just need more help this week and you haven’t noticed, and that pissed me off.” 

“You think maybe I didn’t notice ‘cos I had all that stupid work stuff to do?” you ask gently. It takes more effort than you’d like to admit to be calm right now, but you’re trying because it’s you and Steve. He deserves your effort more than anyone else in the world, especially now that he’s telling you he needs it. “What do you want my help with, honey? I’ll only make you tell me once.” 

“But why do I have to tell you once?” he asks. 

“Because I’m busy too.” 

He shakes his head. “That pisses me off, though. We’re both busy, we’re both struggling, but I’m the one who ends up picking up the slack.”

“I’m sure it feels that way for you,” you say, trying to be patient, pretty close to losing it, “but I’ve been doing a lot this week. I have.”

He looks disgusted for a moment, just a split second, and you’re so worried he’s aiming that disgust at you that you duck your chin, eyes clouding with hurt. 

“Sorry,” he says. He covers his eyes with the back of his hand, pitch rising with emotion. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

“Honey,” you murmur, rubbing his thigh. He curls into himself, and you might not see it often but you know what he looks like when he’s going to cry. “Sweetheart, please don’t be upset.”

“I’m being mean,” he says. 

“No you’re not! You’re not being mean at all, you’re asking for help, and you’re telling me how you feel, that’s not mean, that’s the right thing to do, even if you’re angry.” You try to catch his gaze. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay? I know how much you do. I should’ve noticed, even if I’m busy. That’s not okay of me. I promise I’ll do better now you’ve told me. Won’t make you tell me again.”

He sighs as the first awful tear breaks from his lashes. “I think I’m really tired,” he says, half laugh and half sob. 

You encourage him into a bendy hug. He’s boiling hot under your hands, sniffling as you rub a line up and down his back. “I’m sorry. It’s not fair that you feel like this. I’m supposed to look after you,” you murmur. 

“I don’t even care that you’re not helping as much as I need you to,” he admits, “I’m just so tired.” 

“Why don’t you lie down? You don’t have to suffer in silence, baby. You told me how you feel and now I’m gonna pull my socks up and take care of you.” He shudders with tears. 

“Dad?” Dove asks worriedly. 

She’s standing in the doorway with her empty bottle in her hand, which she drops. 

Steve immediately wipes his face but it’s no use, she’s seen he’s upset already, and she doesn’t like the look of it. Her eyes fill with tears, staring at him in shock. 

“Oh, Dove, don’t cry,” he says. His own surprise prompts another tear to roll down his cheek. 

“Daddy,” she says, looking at you like you can fix it. 

“Come here, dad,” you say showfully, pulling at his face as you reach up from your kneeling to kiss his damp cheeks. “Don’t be upset! Let me kiss it better.” 

He cups the back of your neck and lets you kiss him all over. “Thank you, angel. Thank you, I feel better already.” 

Your kisses are sincere, if a little for show. You wipe his cheeks dry with your thumbs as you go, and take a hand through his hair as you lean back. He gives you a sorry smile. 

“Do you want to come and give him a kiss?” you ask from over your shoulder. 

Dove walks into the arm you hold out for her and climbs into your lap, then Steve’s. He sniffles and holds her, misery in his frame but the relief of having your kid to squeeze clear. “Sorry, Dove, did dad worry you?”  he asks in a murmur, lips near the top of her ear as he hugs her close. She’s small enough that his arm covers near the entirety of her back. 

You pat his thigh. He reaches for your hand to hold. 

“Crying,” she mumbles. 

“Sorry. I was just tired.”

“You okay?” she asks, like he’d ask her. 

“Yeah.” He threads your fingers together and leans away, smiling affectionately at Dove. She looks a lot like him when she smiles back, though you have to skew your head to see it. Same eyes, same dip in their top lip. “Mom kissed it better. Well, mostly. I just need, like, one more kiss, and then I will be perfect. Do you think so?” 

She knows what he’s doing, laughing warmly as she leans in to kiss his cheek. 

His eyes close as she ducks in, a small smile on his lips. 

Man, you think. If Steve’s out of commission, I have so much laundry to do. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 6

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You can’t remember the last time you had the house to yourself. Even if your mother’s just next door, it feels a little lighter around there. And you’re happy for her. Maybe having Steve around will be good. He can be an outlet so she doesn’t have to put all her frustrations on you. 

She was happy when she left, even excited. That’s another rarity in your life. 

You start your day off with a tea. The apple cinnamon bags are a bit old so you use two. You bring the cup into your room and get your table set up with your pencils and sketchbook. You open the window to let in the sunlight, the natural light much brighter than the yellowed bulb above. 

You know your mom would tell you to do something more useful than just scribble in your sketchbook. You got the dishes done last night. Steve offered to help but you deflected as you foresaw your mom’s disapproval. You can’t let company pick up your slack. 

You try to wipe away the anxiety of last night. It’s over now. You shouldn’t have worry very much about it again. 

You finish your tea. It’s cold by the time you get to the dregs. You sit back to look over your sketch. Your eyes feel a bit fuzzy from hyperfocusing on that one stamen. You rub your brow and yawn. The sun shifts and you look over at the old alarm clock on your nightstand. It’s close to noon. 

Something else catches your eye. You look up at the window across from yours. The curtain ripples around the gap before it’s pulled open from inside. Steve stands on the other side of the pane. Can he see you? 

You can’t tell as he turns away without acknowledgement. The glare of the sun should hide your room well enough. You never really thought of it as your blinds are closed more often than not. 

You get up to rinse out your cup. You stretch your legs as you pace in the kitchen. You’re restless. You’re so used to your mom and her demands and expectations, that having your own time feels aimless. 

You could surprise your mother with dinner. Have it in the oven when she comes home. It’s still early but you can make something more than boxed macaroni. It will be a good cushion to fall back on when you remind her about tomorrow’s appointment. 

🏠

When your mother returns, you can see the fatigue around her eyes. For as little as she goes out, you’re not surprised. What strikes you, is how happy she is. You help her to her recliner and she sighs as she leans back. 

“Such a nice man,” she keeps repeating.  

You smile and let her regale you with a recounting of her day. Still, you can’t help but wait for the pendulum to swing back to normal. She leans her head in her hand, her eyes distant. 

“I swear, the universe sent him to me,” she says, “it had to. It was how much I need someone.” She drops her hand and traces her finger around the armrest, “sick, got a lazy daughter, stuck in this damn house...” 

There it is. You frown. You mash your hands together and waver. 

“I made dinner,” you offer. 

“I don’t want KD,” she snips. 

“I made... I made shepherd’s pie,” you offer meekly, “should be almost done.” 

“Hm, wondered what that stench was.” 

You frown. “I can put it in the fridge for tomorrow. Be good to have something we can just heat up after the doctor’s.” 

“Doctor?” She grumbles, ��eh... I forgot.” 

She slumps and her eyes dull. You can’t help the pang in your chest. Sometimes you wish it was you who was sick. It feels like you deserve it more than her. 

“Hopefully it’s good. If you can get the surgery--” 

“Surgery!? Surgery. You keep going on about the damn thing,” she barks. “They can’t fix me, girl, get that through your head.” 

“I know, mom, but they can help--” 

“Like you help me? Crittering around here like a rat!” She hits the armrest violently, “would ya leave me be?” She closes her eyes and turns her face away, deflating once more, “ruined a good day...” 

You sniffle and slowly turn on your heel. You should have known better. You should have just left her alone. As much as she rants about you staying in your room, she prefers you there. Out of sight, out of mind. 

🏠

The next day, your mother doesn’t say much. Her silence is just a bitter as her words. You don’t push it. She gets in the car without argument and you set off into town. Even if she says it’s a waste of time, she listens intently to the doctor and answers all his questions. It’s only when she has to go through the tests that she shows her agitation. 

After some hours spent at the specialist clinic, you’re free to go. Your mom is just as quiet. You feel her mood roiling in the air. Her hand is shaking to the point that she’s hissing at it. 

You steer down to the corner and linger at the stop sign. 

“Mom,” you squeak, “you want some orange julius? A treat for the way home?” 

“Don’t talk to me like a damn child,” she snarls. “Let’s just go. I’m tired. Got no blood left in me.” 

You nod and bite your tongue. Maybe you can just put her to bed. Her naps are a respite, though you find yourself anxious in the silence, terrified of waking her prematurely.  

As you pull onto the suburban avenue, you slow and approach your drive. You pull in and shut off the engine. You get out and go around to help your mom. You open her door and she hauls herself out, tisking under her breath. 

“Didn’t see him,” she mutters. 

“Good afternoon,” Steve’s voice answers your question before you can ask. You look over the hood as he waves from his porch, “busy day?” 

Your mother steels herself and forces a smile, “just went to the doctors.” 

“Oh, everything okay?” He asks. 

“Sure,” she chimes, “just some tests. Nothing serious.” 

“Good to hear,” he stands behind the porch railing, arches crossed, “day’s not over yet. Still lots of time to enjoy the sun.” 

“Mhmm,” you mom grabs onto your wrist, shaking you as leans into you. “Nice day out.” 

“I was gonna do up a milkshake, if you ladies wanted to join me I got plenty to go around.” 

“Milkshakes?” Your mother considers, “mm, I’d have to change out of these.” She looks down, “smell like a hospital.” 

“Sure, take your time,” Steve says, “how about you, honey? I got strawberry. You seem like a strawberry type.” 

“Eh, she’s more a vanilla type,” your other cackles. “Plain.” 

“Got that too,” Steve ignores the joke. “I understand if you’re tired out though. Don’t wanna be too desperate over here, just wouldn’t mind the company.” 

“I’ll be over soon,” your mom assures him, “she’s got some laundry to do.” 

She keeps hold of you and points you towards the house. You help her inside, even though she does her best to hid how she clings to you. Her steps are uneven and stunted. You get through the front door and help her sit on the chair you keep by the door, just in case. 

“Goddamnit,” she’s shaking pretty bad. “Help me, you dumb girl.” 

“I... I don’t...” 

“Get my goddamn inhaler. I forgot it this morning.” 

“Oh, uh, okay.” 

You hurry down the hall and to bathroom. It isn’t in the cabinet. You go back out and scan the table. Not their either. You find it next to her recliner. You wish she’d keep it one place. You go back to her and hand it over. 

“I’m gonna go over,” she says before she huffs from the canister, “you’re gonna stay here. Out of my way.” 

“Alright,” you agree. You prefer that anyway. 

She takes a minute before she gets up. She shooes you away and you retreat to your bedroom. You sit on your bed and wring your hands, waiting as you listen to her. She doesn’t say goodbye before she leaves. Only the front door slamming lets you know she’s gone. 

You exhale and pull the fold out table up to the edge of the bed. You open your sketchbook and stare at the pencil. You don’t feel like drawing but you have nothing else to do. You just sit, looking at the amaryllis. You can pick out every flaw in your work. You close the cover and frown. 

A knock startles you and you stand up. Oh gosh, it’s probably Marge. What is it now? Is the siding too stained? Are the steps crooked? You get up and shuffles down the hall. You open the front door, hiding behind it as you poke your head around. 

Steve has the screen door propped open against his elbow. He holds a tall glass filled with pink, “here. Figured I’d bring this over.” 

“Oh, uh, thanks,” you accept the condensating glass, a wide straw poking out of the whipped cream topped drink. 

“Maybe next time you can pop over too,” he suggests, “I’ve been working on getting the pool going...” he grins, “it’ll be a good summer for it.” 

You nod and look down at the milkshake. 

“Really nice of you,” you say. 

“It’s nothing, sweetie,” he puts his hand on the door above him, looking down at you, “enjoy.” 

“Uh,” you look at him then at the straw. You don’t want to be rude. You put your lips around the tip and take a sip. “Mm, yup, good. Thank you.” 

His blue eyes stick to you and he drags his hand down the door, “I’ll make a deal. You come over to see the pool when it’s ready, and I’ll make you another. How about that, sweetie?” 

You push your lips out. It’s not nice to say no. He didn’t have to bring you the milkshake or invite you. You shrug. 

“Okay,” you agree, “erm, thanks again.” 

He nods and taps the door frame before he steps back. He gently closes the screen door and you watch him through. He turns and strides down the stairs. You shiver as the cold glass numbs your fingers. Hopefully, he forgets about the pool thing. You don't even have a suit.

[graysturns]

𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕙𝕖 | 𝕞.𝕤.

3.7k+ words

note: this had me crying! please listen to will he by joji on repeat to feel what i felt okay? okay love u guys bye

warnings: toxic relationship, weed use, alcohol consumption, p in v (unprotected), oral (fem recieving).

lightly proofread

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“you need to fucking relax. you get so worked up over nothing and now you’re bitching and whining at me over something that has nothing to do with me!” matt yells in my direction while sifting through his hamper.

“do you really think that’s okay? some girl whispering in your ear like that? it’s obvious she had an ulterior motive. and that way she put her hand on your chest, you didn’t even try to stop her! and now you won’t tell me what she was say-“

“why can’t you drop this? it was loud and i couldn’t hear her so she leaned into me. what the fuck was i supposed to do?” he interrupts.

“i don’t know, maybe establish a boundary? you always do this. it’s like i don’t matter to you. behind closed doors it’s ‘i love you baby, i can’t live without you, you’re my whole life’, it’s like i’m dating two different people!” i mock him.

“you’re such a fucking simp when it’s the two of us but god forbid another person is around. you forget i exist!” i continue.

“you already know i don’t like pda. no one needs to know the personal details of our relationship. i’m sorry you feel that way but that’s just how i am. you’re always trying to change me.” he huffs before throwing a hoodie down on his bed.

“matt, i’m not trying to change you. i just need to know that you love me. it hurts me that you’re so indifferent towards me at times. i need to know you feel the same way i do.” i choke out, tears forming in my eyes.

suddenly, his phone buzzes. i barely see the instagram message notification before he quickly grabs it and shoves it back in his pocket.

he lowers his head before bringing a hand up to his mouth, starting to bite his nails.

“what was that?” i stare back at him.

“it was nothing.”

“so, why are you being fucking weird?”

“i’m not being weird.”

“fuck this.” i grab my bag from his chair and walk to the door of his bedroom.

“where are you going?”

“matthew, i can’t be with you. i need — no i deserve — someone who loves me the way i should be loved. it feels like i embarrass you. you think i haven’t seen the models you follow? you’re so weird about your phone these days and i don’t have the energy to ignore it anymore. i’m not enough for you, but there’s probably someone out there praying for someone like me, someone who would kiss the ground i walk on, and appreciate me for who i am. you’re not him, but i’m going to find him. have a good fucking life matt.”

he stands at the foot of the bed, arms limp and slack-jawed.

i raise my eyebrows at him, awaiting some sort of response, but he rolls his eyes before turning around, focusing on his laundry once again.

“leave then, ungrateful bitch!” he scoffs as i slam the door behind me.

-two months later-

my head is pounding from the loud music blaring all around me and the amount of shots I’ve taken, which i’ve now lost track of. i feel like shit but i need something, anything to keep my mind off matt.

a pair of hands grabs my waist as i’m dancing and leads me toward their groin. normally i’d turn around and berate the man who felt like he had the right to put his hands on me, but i really need some fucking attention.

i don’t even turn to look at him before i press my back against his chest and move my hips in circles.

i can feel him move my hair to the side and start to kiss up my neck.

gross.

i continue to move against him, focusing on the music playing loudly. i feel high and drunk at the same time and everything is so fuzzy. i feel like nothing matters anymore. i’m so numb.

i turn around and face the man. he’s tall and blonde, with blue eyes just like matt’s.

“do you wanna get out of here?” i blurt out without a second thought.

he smirks before taking my hand and leading me out the door.

matt’s pov

i lean out my window, one hand tightly gripping the sill while my other brings the joint back up to my lips, sucking the thin white smoke. i exhale through my nostrils, shutting my eyes tightly.

thirty minutes ago, a mutual friend of ours posted a snap story of her downing shots. there were multiple men all around her, watching her drown herself in liquor. she wore a tight little dress that showed off all my favorite parts of her. my blood boiled at the thought of them ravishing her with their eyes.

that particular friend group is notorious for bar-hopping, and leaving behind whoever isn’t paying attention. i can’t stand the thought of her being stranded there, unaware of her surroundings, vulnerable and an easy target for anyone waiting to take advantage of her.

i press my palms into my eyes, trying to push the thought of her away.

she isn’t my problem anymore.

a sharp sizzling noise brings my hands back down when i notice one strand of my hair is smoking, the joint still between my pointer and middle finger.

“fuck.” i press the joint into the small ashtray she made me, when we went on a date to the pottery studio.

“fuck!” i yell out the window, wanting to throw the small ceramic out onto the street, but i can’t.

i’m such an idiot. she’s the only thing i’ve ever cared about, and now she’s out there, probably fucking someone new. but there’s nothing i can do about it, she isn’t mine anymore.

i stand up and shut the window, grabbing a hoodie from the chair and throwing it on before heading out to my car.

the drive is short and quiet. i pull up to the outside of her apartment building and park underneath a tree, far enough away to remain unnoticed but close enough to watch.

about twenty minutes pass by, and my nails are bitten to nubs, when a silver car pulls into the spot right in front of her door. i watch as she stumbles out, dragging some tall, frat-boyish idiot out behind her. she sloppily waves goodbye at the car as it zooms away.

i feel my ears heat up as she stumbles in to her apartment, bringing him inside with her.

it takes everything in me not to bust in there and rip him off of her. my mind runs wild thinking of what he could be doing to her in there.

reader’s pov

we exit the car and i wave goodbye to the nice man who dropped us off. i fumble with my keys a little before going inside.

“welcome to my home!” i throw my hands up and giggle.

“wow, it’s very.. cute.” he stands with his hands in his pockets, looking around at the stuffed animals on my couch.

i grab his hand and lead him up the stairs to my bedroom. “i don’t normally do this, but i just need to fuck and you seem like the kinda guy whose down.. for that kinda thing.” i slur my words as we enter my bedroom.

“yeah i’m so down, i think you’re really hot.” he chuckles before eyeing me up and down.

i roll my eyes internally before slipping my dress off and kicking it aside.

“okay let’s do it!” i clasp my hands together and giggle softly.

he smirks before pushing me onto the bed. “what a little slut, giving it up for a guy you just met at the club, and you’re not even wearing underwear, i love it.” he bites his lip before getting down on his knees.

he places a kiss on my navel before harshly sucking on my clit, with no warning.

i yelp out in pain, and not the good kind.

i can’t stop thinking of matt, how good he is at this, how i miss his tongue on my skin.

he begins to lick my outer folds, before slamming a finger into my cervix.

“fuck!”

“what’s wrong?” he looks at me bewildered.

“i’m not even wet, dude? have you ever eaten pussy in your life?”

he nods quickly before traveling up to my breast, and massages it slowly before biting down harshly on my left nipple.

“ow! oh my god, what is happening to me right now?” i blurt out.

matt was always so gentle.

he has a sad look in his eyes, and i begin to feel sorry for him.

“no, look, i’m sorry. come here,” i gesture at him to get on the bed and hover over me.

“i have lube on the nightstand, it’s okay,” i reach over and grab it, pumping some on my hand before spreading it around my clit and folds.

he pulls his shirt and pants off, before pulling his cock out and teasing the head on me, still in his boxers.

i look down and see them bunched around his knees and get the biggest ick.

before he enters me, i stop him with a hand on his chest.

“i’m not on birth control, you need a condom.” i lie to his face.

i always let matt finish inside me.

he smirks at me again, “that’s okay, i can pull out.”

“okay, no. i’m sorry this isn’t working out.” i roll out from under him and open my bedroom door.

“i think you should go.” i lower my gaze.

“no i can do better! i promise!” he pleads.

“get the fuck out man! now! go! go! leave!”

he quickly grabs his things and pulls up his boxers before tripping.

oh my god. i’ve never been so disgusted in my life. i cover my face in embarrassment.

matt would never give me this much second-hand embarrassment.

he stands, knees shaking and running down the stairs with his clothes bunched up in his arms. the door slams and i let out a sigh.

i feel disgusting.

after crying on my bed for a good five minutes, i look in the mirror and see a splotchy, nude mess. there’s mascara on my cheeks and my hair is a birds nest atop my head.

i need a shower.

in the bathroom, i turn the shower on high heat and step underneath the running water.

i wash my hair and face, then proceed to scrub my skin raw everywhere he touched me. my skin is red and burning by the time i exit the shower but i can still feel his grimy hands on me.

with a plush towel, i pat myself down before wrapping my hair up and going back into my bedroom to blow dry my hair.

halfway through, i hear my phone ding from the nightstand, where i had hooked it up to charge. i slowly walk over and peek at the screen.

it’s matt.

matt’s pov

my knuckles turn white from the grip i’ve got on the steering wheel. the windows are down, allowing the cool air to come in, helping me control my breathing.

a door slams and i jerk my head in the direction of her apartment. i chuckle slightly at the scene before me.

the same man, is now outside, standing in his underwear with all his belongings bundled up under his arm. not even five minutes after he had gone inside. his cheeks burn a bright red as he drops everything to quickly get dressed.

that bad, huh?

i snap a picture quickly and try to keep myself from laughing out loud.

this may be her first time trying to get back out there, but i can’t imagine how difficult it’d be for her to allow a man back in her bed after she’s had me.

i roll my windows up so i can watch him without being noticed. he’s scrambling to do something on his phone, shaking and crying.

how pathetic.

i can’t imagine how she’s feeling, probably sad, angry, maybe even missing me.

i decide to wait another twenty minutes. in the meantime, the mystery man is sat up against the wall crying into his hands.

finally, a car comes and he practically jumps in. they drive away pretty quickly.

i pull my phone out and shoot her a quick text. i miss her so bad, and i think she may be upset enough to actually hear me out.

thirty seconds pass and her name is on my screen, vibrating.

i slowly slide the answer button before bringing it up to my ear.

“hey baby,” i breathe out.

“uh.. hey,” she whispers.

“can we talk?”

“yeah i think that would be good.. can you come over now?”

“i’m already outside, sweetheart” i chuckle before pulling my key from the ignition.

reader’s pov

my heart is beating out of my chest.

he’s outside.

how long has he been out there?

did he see him?

fuck.

fuck!

there’s a small knock at the door, i quickly grab my robe from the hook of my bedroom door and slide it on, then run down the stairs.

i open the door to see matt, with his hair all fluffy and stubble on his jaw.

“hi matty,” i let out meekly, opening the door wider to let him in.

he smiles and follows me inside, shutting the door before grabbing my wrist and pulling me into a tight hug.

i feel my body relax into his warm plush hoodie, letting go of all the stress built up inside me. i wrap my legs around his waist and he carries me to the couch, covered in all the stuffies he had bought me. he takes a seat, and leans his head on my shoulder, exhaling softly into my neck. i twist my body so i’m on my side, laying between his legs, my head in the spot where his neck and shoulder meet, his hold on me still firm.

“baby,” he rubs small circles on my thigh.

“hm?” i look up at him through my lashes.

“i’m sorry. for everything. i took you for granted, and i shouldn’t have. you mean the world to me.” he sighs.

“you did. you hurt me a lot matt.”

“that girl, she was flirting with me and she kept messaging me, but nothing ever happened, i ignored all her messages but she wouldn’t sto-“

“i don’t want to talk about her right now, please.” tears threaten to spill over.

“i know, i know, i’m sorry. i just really need you to know i was never unloyal. i was just in a rough spot and i took it out on you. i didn’t know how to handle my emotions.”

i nod softly.

“and i’m sorry for calling you those names. and cursing at you. i hate myself for disrespecting you. these last two months have been absolute hell for me. i can’t get you out of my head, sweetheart.”

i nod again.

“i’m sorry for not showing you off, you’re the most beautiful woman on this planet, and i hate the thought of anyone looking at what’s mine and-and trying to pick you apart to get to me. i like keeping you my secret, that way you’re safe from the world around us.”

i raise an eyebrow at him.

“but that doesn’t mean i’m not going to do it. you’re worth so much more than you know to me. you deserve to be showered with love and adoration. you deserve everything, baby.”

i sit up slightly. “what does this mean, matt?”

he runs a hand through his fluffy hair before resting it on my hip. “it means i want to be with you, i can’t stand the thought of you being with anyone else. i’m ready to be the man you need me to be, if you’ll let me.” he looks at me with hopeful, bloodshot eyes.

i lean in and kiss him softly, resting my hand on his jaw.

he kisses me back with urgency before i pull away.

a tear slips down his face, breaking my heart into a million pieces.

“matty no,” i cry out and swipe it away, kissing him again.

“i love you. i need you back, please. if i need to get on my knees right here, i will.”

“please don’t get on your knees, you’re gonna make me cry.” i give him a small smile before curling up in his chest.

he wraps his arms around me and kisses my head. “can we go to bed, please?”

“of course,” i stand, grabbing his hand and pulling him up from his spot on the couch, leading him up the stairs.

he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, grabbing my hips and pressing his head against my abdomen, kissing me sweetly over my robe.

i bend down to his level and press my forehead against his, our noses touching.

“matt, i love you more than anything.” i whisper into his lips.

he grabs me and places me on his lap, so i’m straddling him, before he kisses me passionately.

“i missed this, so so much.” he sighs.

he lies back and kisses me with so much love, i feel my heart pounding through my chest.

i undo the tie at the front of the robe and start to pull it off my shoulders, leaving me bare.

“no, we don’t have to, i don’t want to make you feel pressured.” he grabs a hold of my elbow.

“no matt, i need this, please.” i plead at him with my eyes.

“you don’t have to ask me again, sweetheart,” he smiles before kissing my nose and flips us over, so i’m on my back.

he travels down to the valley of my breasts, leaving sweet, tender kisses along the way, then, a kiss on each of my hardened nipples. he takes the left one in his mouth and sucks softly while his free hand caresses the other, circling my nipple with his thumb.

he’s so gentle.

he focuses his mouth on the other for a minute, before traveling down to my glistening bundle of nerves.

“you’re so wet for me already, baby,” he gasps before running a finger up to my clit, collecting my arousal on his fingertip.

he pops it in his mouth, his eyes rolling back at the taste of me. i clench my legs together in desperation.

running his hand along the hem of his hoodie, he pulls it off, along with his sweatpants and boxers. his cock springs up, and i’m so happy to see him.

matt lies on his stomach, propped up by his elbows, before diving his face into my throbbing cunt.

he teases by moving his tongue in circles around the clit, then lays his tongue flat, making me shake uncontrollably under his touch.

oh, how i missed that tongue.

i squeeze his head with my thighs from the pleasure he’s giving me and he chuckles, his hot breath tickling my clit. he starts to place soft kitten licks on my sensitive spot before running a finger around the ‘u’ shape of my entrance, then slowly pushing it in.

i let out a loud moan. “matt! i need you please,”

“patience baby, i’m just getting started.” he starts to fuck my hole with his tongue, and i let out a scream.

“i can’t, i can’t wait!” i sit up and grab his hand, pulling him up towards me.

he smiles cheekily then positions himself at my entrance, teasing me up and down. i grab the back of his head and press our foreheads together, kissing him roughly.

“fuck me matt, i need you to fuck me.” i pull my knees up to my chest, opening my legs wide for him to enter.

first, he puts the tip in, and pulls it back out. then he thrusts forward, agonizingly slow.

his face contorts in pleasure, as if it were his first time.

then he picks up the pace, swinging his hips against me, groaning and praising my body.

i’m clawing at his back, desperate for his cock to go further inside me.

“matty please, deeper,” i whine.

“patience baby, patience.” he rolls his hips, causing me to let out a long string of curses.

i start to buck up my hips, wanting more.

“i said be patient baby. fuck,” he flips me around and pulls my hips up, so my face is buried in the pillows, before ramming into me from behind. i let out another scream, this time muffled by the pillows.

he grabs onto my hair and pulls my head back, slamming into me over and over again. i can feel the tip deep inside me, rearranging and disrupting whatever organs in its way.

the sounds of his groans and skin slapping make me feel fuzzy and light, i can feel my orgasm creeping up on me.

“matt, i’m gonna-“

“i know sweetheart, hold it for me, i’m almost there.” he bring his hand down to where we meet and rubs circles around my clit, causing me to clench around him.

my legs start to shake uncontrollably as i finish on his dick, and his thrusts slow down as he fills me up with cum.

matt came inside me. and it felt so good.

he pulls out and watches intently as it drips down my leg, then reaches over to the nightstand to grab a tissue. he wipes up my leg and around my pussy and throws the tissue at the waste bin in the corner, then falls beside me, pulling me into his arms.

he pulls the comforter out from underneath us and covers me, then reaches over to turn the lamp off. i snuggle into him, nuzzling my face into his neck.

“i’m so happy you’re back, i was dying without you.” i whisper into his neck.

“believe me, i know.” he kisses my head.

i close my eyes and start to drift off before he asks, “who was that guy that left here, crying?”

i widen my mouth in embarrassment. “fuck matt, you know about that?”

“yeah, i was uh, gathering up the courage to talk to you, and i saw him there. who was he?” he trails off.

“he was nobody. a disappointment, a distraction.”

“did you fuck him? before we uh, you know?” he asks with sad eyes.

i kiss him sweetly. “no baby, all he did was remind me how much i needed you.”

he sighs in satisfaction and pulls me closer. “i’m never letting you go again.”

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this is probably my favorite thing. i love it. hope you guys love it too 🤍

comment on this post to be added to my tag list! :)

tags??:

@imwetforyourmom @anonymouslyachrisgirl @junnniiieee07

[jay-is-dead1]

"Buy yourself somethin’ pretty, Toots"

Summary: SUGAR DADDY SCHLATT SUGAR DADDY SCHLATT Warnings: not exactly a warning but reader is afab Word Count: 1.1k words Author's note: There wasn't enough sugar daddy schlatt fics so i did it myself, and please be nice, this is my first fic in a HOT minute. Also cut me some slack, Schlatt is probably mildly ooc.

You slowly sip from the whiskey glass in front of you. Your best friend, Emilia, chattin it up some guy next to the two of you as you rest on one of the stools from your local bar. The music was practically blaring a song you didn't seem to recognize.

You begged Emilia not to take you tonight, but she insisted that since you had just gotten through a rough breakup that you needed a "rebound" but you weren't much of a one-night stander, but here you were, dolled up in a skin-tight black dress, sitting alone at the bar, it was nice to be out and feeling sexy again, but you weren't really up for going out at the time, especially in your rough mental state.

"I'm gonna head to the bathroom" You basically call out to Emilia before getting up from the stool without a response, she was too fucked up already and she was too deep in her conversation to hear you, you didn't care for a response anyway, you weren't being stopped with or without one.

You push your way through the large crowd of people, most of them unknowing to your fight to the bathroom as they were too drunk and too stupid to notice, but after a long battle you finally push open the door to the bathroom. It smelled of puke and hard liquor from girls before you having their night ruined by getting sick from the mix of drinks and the cardio of dancing all night. You sigh and rest your hands on the cold marble sinks, the bathroom was nice, it was well lit and it didn't look at all how it smelled, thankfully. You look at yourself in the mirror, you sigh softly and try to get out of your own mind, you wanted to have fun tonight, you deserved it, you gave yourself a small but needed mental peptalk before heading back out of the bathroom. After fighting your way through the crowd again you find your stool and order yourself another drink.

"You come here often?" A low voice pulls you out of your head again and you laugh at the cliche.

"Sadly." You reply and you get a low chuckle out of the man before you finally give him a small glance, he was handsome for sure, you couldn't quite pinpoint what made him so attractive though. It wasn’t just the curly brown hair, or the mutton chops that grew down his face, you weren’t exactly attracted to facial hair often, but something about this man.. it all suited him perfectly. You could entertain him for the night honestly. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen ya here before though, I’d think I would remember someone like you being here.” He spoke with a soft chuckle, he was obviously very intoxicated and you could only wish to be on his level by the end of the night.

“Yeah?” You can’t help but softly laugh through your words. “And why is that?”

“Cause your hot.” He replied, his words were slurred through his drunkenness. You burst out into a laugh and once you regained yourself you found yourself staring into the man’s offended eyes. “Okay buddy. Whatever you say.” You shook your head as you continued to hold back your laugh. You were sure being entertained by him and it was actually pretty nice. “So.. what’s your name?” You continued your conversation with him and found out his name was Schlatt, it was unique but still a nice name. You exchanged names and held the conversation until you found yourself being led onto the dance floor with him. You let the night flow under the bright LEDs, you danced without leaving any room for jesus inbetween, but with Schlatt you were truly having fun and enjoying yourself, drunk or not. 

After a while you finally grew tired, you were too drunk to drive back home but Schlatt said his place wasn’t too far from the bar so you headed out into the city. As you walked, your feet began to ache from the heals.

“Hold on,” You spoke breathlessly and plopped yourself onto the cold concrete and struggled with your heals until you heard Schlatt’s oh so familiar voice. 

“C’mere.’ You look up to find him patting his thigh so he could help you. “I think you’re worse than me at this point, toots.” He joked as he undid and slid off both of your heels, he then took your hand and pulled you up as he dangled your heels from his fingers as you continued the journey to his house. 

“Thanks Schlatt.. for taking care of me” You spoke softly as you looked ahead of you, the only light coming from the posts every couple of yards, and a few neon lights coming from the bars that were still open down the street you walked upon.

“Of course, it wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me to leave a dame like you in distress.” He joked, but there was a sincerity behind his voice that made your stomach do flips. You looked down at your bare feet before you heard him speak up again. “This is it.”

You look up from your feet as you walk into the driveway of a decently sized two-story house. It seemed a little extensive for one man to be living alone in. It was also incredibly nice, there were fancy cars in the open garage, you couldn’t help but stare at it all until you reached the front door. He fumbled with his keys a little before finally unlocking it and walking in, and holy shit if you thought the outside was nice you couldn’t believe the inside. 

It was marvelous. Your eyes seemed to shine simply from the inside of it, you felt like you were breathing million dollar air. 

“Nice, isn’t it?” Schlatt brought you out of your trance, you nod slowly and look over at him. 

“Nice is an understatement.” He laughed softly and nodded to your words, he took your hand softly and led you up the stairs to his room, it was large with a king or queen sized bed in the middle, you couldn’t really tell, and few doors on the inside that you could only assume was to the bathroom and one to his closet, you didn’t even want to see how large the two of them were compared to everything else in this glorious house.

You don’t know why it just dawned on you now, but Schlatt was rich rich.

Well part one is finally here, if you've made it this far then thank you and I hope you enjoyed!!

[allthedamnlove]

AQUAMARINE: RAFE CAMERON X SOFIA FANFICTION: CHAPTER 1

Wordcount: 4k words

Prologue

Radio for this chapter:

18 MONTHS AGO

Sofia's POV

I, Sofia Ramirez, never really thought that in my twenty years of life would end up as a bartender in a fuck all country club where I hear gringos talk about stuff that doesn't even matter at the end of the day. Every time I go near a table to get their finished “whiskey neat” “Old fashioned.” cocktail glasses with fingerprints imprinted as if they were on a crime scene, I have invented a guessing game of “What are these greasy old white men talking about?”

I have a set of permutations and combinations: 

How much will this deal pull through?

Man, crazy that those Pogues own that land; we should get a lawyer to annex the shit out of it.

My wife has been slacking, man. Not fucking me good anymore or worse, says, “I’m not in the mood.”

God, I need a drink. Or a cigarette

If it was women, it would go like 

Ohhh! I really want that new Van Cleef, but Daddy ended up buying that Cartier bracelet for me.

Ugh, bestie!!! I wanted that new Rhode smoothie, but there are no fuckass cute cafes, even on the Kook side.

I think my boyfriend’s cheating on me (this is valid, and they probably deserve to run men through a tar road)

Girl, I need a drink.

First world problems, lemme tell you.

You might ask, what about me then?

Well, I wait tables around here, as you probably would have known. I also bartend if the boss asks me to. And I clean the floor and the tables and sometimes take care of the register.

At this point, I am running this bar like the Navy, but nobody wants to talk about it.

Is the pay worth it? Nope, absolute-fucking-not. I work for nearly nine hours a day and get paid only two and a half dollars per hour. I don’t get extra sick days except for the allotted 12 days a week, and half of the tips go to the owner officially….wink. And I smell like yeast every day after my shift.

Yay. I am so happy.

 Bullshit.

At least I get to see mid to okayish-looking white men. Occasionally, other races, but hey, who am I fooling here? Most of the people frequenting here have zero percent of melanin. 

It was a slow day at the pristine country club, with its tall false ceilings and fancy glass upholstery and lighting, a huge white marble counter encircling the veranda with shell white and pastel green chairs and tables fit snugly on the granite floor which I clean every day that I see my own reflection. 

Which I am doing right now. 

My feet were gliding on the slippery wet floor as I saw myself scrubbing the white tile which was stained with “your finest Bloody Mary please!”  the blood-red stain laughing in my face. I am tired and exasperated and I need a drink. That I didn’t make with my own hands. I looked up as the summer breeze made my stray hairs encounter my eyes; my vision blessed with one of the most picturesque sunsets I have ever witnessed after settling in Outer Banks. The golden Sun was muted orange now, glistening as the white tufts of clouds were colored inside by the marine blue sky. For a moment then, everything felt right.

“SOFIA, GO DOWNSTAIRS TO THE INVENTORY AND GET ME A BOTTLE OF THAT OLD RUM”

Spoke too soon. 

I turned towards the source of the source and there he was, my boss.

Benjamin Alexander Portridge. Long name. I know. Everyone around the town calls him Mr. Portridge. But all of us working in the bar called him Benny Bitch behind his back. He is the textbook definition of a schmooze. Five feet tall, unnaturally thin with his pinstripe pants and suit and an eerie gold pin with a bear engraved on it resting on his breast pocket that he wears every day like a magician at a circus, if you are a Kook with some cha-ching on your purse he would snag, grab and treat you like you are his next wife or something. He would “warmly” welcome you with a “Good evening, gentleman. How can I help you?” with him trailing over them like a hawk. Then he would sweet-talk them, talking about “da birds and da bees” and switch over like a chameleon; slowly collecting all the dirty laundry of Kooks who smile and make small talk with him. 

It's too bad he doesn’t air it out to us. He just zooms around and pierces you with his look while you’re pouring drinks and most importantly when we collect money, his snake eyes follow the line of money. And he screams out orders when no one is around. 

I wobbled and carefully stood on the floor, slowly placing the “Don’t Walk, Slippery Floor” sign, I saw a fuzz of blonde walking right into the area, her hot pink headphones bobbing along with her strawberry blonde bob, navy blue skirt swaying as she strutted with no care. I can hear Ayesha Erotica blasting through her phone.

“MISSY, DON’T WALK INTO THE WET FLOOR”

“WHAT, SOF, WAIT, OH-”

Her right foot dramatically went up in the air while she scrambled to keep her weight steady for a hot minute, failed miserably, and fell with a soft yet powerful THUD.

“OW!” she let out a small yelp as she was rubbing her bruised hands on her uniform, her butt still planted on the wet floor. I slowly walked near her, careful not to fall flat on my ass, helping her stand steady and taking her near to the bar counter. 

“Sofia, girl why didn’t you tell me you were cleaning? Oh, my ass, my ass.”

I threw my head back, exasperated. I literally put up a sign that wrote “SLIPPERY FLOOR” in black, bold letters” in front of her eyes. And I told her exactly that.

“Missy, look in front of you, there is a sign called ‘WET FLOOR’”

“Fine. I heard Benny Bitch call for something, that’s why I came back from my cig break” she said in her airy voice, dusting off any ashes from her white polo uniform. Lia “Missy” Robinson is a character, alright. A loud, boisterous, chain smoker, changes her hair color based on the weather (this is true, she even explained her mechanism once on a break) and is a “proud Gemini” because “Gemini’s are crucified everywhere and I, for one, think that’s bullshit” (her words, not mine), Missy was the first person I met when I came to work here in the fine establishment (I am baring my molars when I am saying this, by the way) of Pelican Bay Country Club (I mean who even names a club like that?) two months ago at Outer Banks. Benny told me that I needed a mentor when I started out and he “appointed” Missy, (whatever that’s supposed to mean) and all she did was, flick her cigarette on the floor and said 

“Olives may be stale but those idiots don’t know that so don’t hesitate to give them that. If anyone comes at you for making the drink wrong, just put extra tequila on it. If a fight happens, see if they start to punch each other and if you see blood, then call Benny. And if you want to smoke, there’s a basement room right next to the inventory. Finally, welcome to hell. And I like the bangs. Keep it.” she motioned towards my hair.

She’s cool and doesn’t take shit from anyone which I like since sometimes my shy self can get flustered whenever some customers get a bit unsavory and try saying, “I CAN NOT BELIEVE WE ARE LETTING POGUES TO MAKE US DRINKS, YOU ARE SHIT AT EVERYTHING YOU DO” 

“No, he asked me to get rum from downstairs.”

“Well damn, I fell on my ass for nothing then. It’s fine, I’ll go get it for you. I came all the way from sexting my neighbor for this, might as well make myself useful.”

Oh, I forgot to tell you, Missy is synonymous with Too Much Information. 

Even though I really don’t want to go to the basement for the tenth time today, I am a bit unsure about letting a “butt-hurt” Missy get hurt again or worse, get her hands cut by dropping the bottle.

“Are you sure, Missy? I don’t mind”

“Positive”

“Ok, then….but take the one from the top shelf. Otherwise, I’ll be the one staying late having another “mixologist” revision.”

She struggled to get up from the barstool so I helped her up again and she ambled her way to the basement; leaving me alone with only Jeremy on the bar. He works with me on the counter during my shifts, we are not friends or even acquaintances but we just wave at each other and relay messages to each other during work.

That’s the definition of a colleague. And I just realized that. 

It’s not that I don’t want to be alone with him, it’s just that it gets so awkward when we are alone in between shifts or when cleaning the place. He doesn’t know anything about me and I don’t know anything about him except the fact that he owns a pet tarantula named “Gary” from some crocodile hunter in “Animal Planet” (he mentioned it to me when an old Kook spotted a spider outside the club and screamed, “OH MY GOD, THERE ARE BLOOD SUCKING HEATHENS HERE!!! I AM NEVER COMING BACK TO THIS CLUB.”)

And it’s way too overdue to ask him about his life and vice versa. So we just work in silence or I blast my headphones high to avoid the tension. There’s no such thing as comfortable silence when you’re with people. 

Begrudgingly, I passed by the uniformly arranged chairs and made my way to the lockers located way inside, past the attached kitchen which serves “elevated bar food” in the evenings. As I went inside the stuffy room resembling the gym locker room minus the stench with its seafoam green walls, I saw my other “colleagues” and janitors standing in pairs of two to four, gossiping and applying light makeup to their faces. Their heads swiveled towards me as I came in, everyone collectively saying “Hi, Sofia” and then going on with their lives. After chirping in a squeaky “Hello!” back, I reached my locker, its rusty blue door littered with photos of all the people I hold close to my heart: a family photo of my mamá and papá standing in front of a cathedral in Mexico; that was them on their wedding day; an old photo of my abuelas posing with my thirteen-year-old self wearing a baby pink tutu and a polaroid of my two hermanas Isabella and Alejandra and my brother Theo smiling at the camera holding our cat, Mishmish. I smiled looking at their pure laughs spilling from the photo and opened my locker, taking out my face wash and towel from my cherry-red handbag.

I gave up a lot for them. It doesn’t mean it stopped hurting when I stopped dreaming but the fact that I am able to help my ma put food on the table or at least try to lessen her burden is more than enough for me. All I can do is get through every day, hoping that I can stop surviving and start living. 

My introspections got cut off as my ears caught onto two waiters gossiping in the common washroom, my eyes closed and hands automatically washing off the suds of my face as I half-heartedly listened to them. 

“No way he is back”

“Yes way, Tammy told me that she saw Rafe Cameron at Tannyhill when she was walking Mrs. Daisy’s dog”

Oh, I have heard of him. 

Rafe Cameron. 

I vaguely remember his dad’s name coming up on the news some time ago or maybe my dad told me about him sometimes passing in a random conversation. The notorious Kook Prince. Never seen him though. I only know of him through other’s opinions of him and safe to say, that nobody likes him. Not from what I heard anyway. 

“Oh, but his dad is dead and he and his family disappeared off the face of the Earth and now he’s back…after two months…that’s suspicious as fuck”

“You know him, that cokehead must have done something. Too bad, looks hot as fuck but truly a wasted potential”

I wanted to eavesdrop more but then stopped myself. I have a shift in ten minutes and I hate inserting myself in other people’s business and plus I don’t want to hear Katya talk about her periods as she stopped talking about drama altogether. Who knows, maybe I’ll see this infamous guy one day and see for myself if he’s “fuckable or not” (again, not my words)

Oh, if only I knew. 

*****************

The club was packed tonight in spite of its spacious open space floor; a sea of beiges, pastel shades, and tan pants flooded my senses; my eyes and feet dizzy from the dim lighting and my feet haphazardly dancing on the granite, palms barely holding onto the huge wooden plates containing a plethora of drinks and poisons of all sorts: you name it, I have it my hand and I’ll probably drop it on some Kook’s head if I don’t get a break. 

Such is the life of an underpaid bartender. God, I need to go home. 

Exhaustion pushed me as I slowly went inside my safe space, on the other side of the counter. I mean, it’ll still hurt but I don’t have to look like a circus elephant running on a ball when I am just pouring drinks and manning the counter. Jeremy came barrelling towards me, sweat and all silently screaming, “You take care here, I’ll go serve the drinks”

I gotta hand it to him, no matter the awkward glances. He’s running this place like Benny is going to give him the keys to the bar next Saturday. And I respect him for that. Everybody calls him a weirdo but he’s always been reliable to the T. Helping me with the accounts, serving customers at lightning speed and sometimes he stays until I leave my shift which I always felt was sweet. Or maybe it’s creepy and I still don’t know how to take cues from strangers. But all I said was a small, “Okay!”

So here I am, serving the nth Long Island Teas to a throng of women adorning body-con dresses chatting up about the next big party happening in the Bahamas and how they should totally look up all the restaurants in the cruise. The back of my hand swept across my sweaty forehead, a pristine fake smile plastered on my face, and deftly moved my shaker as I made another Cosmo for another customer. My hands were gangly, ready to give out but I kept saying “Just 30 mins more, just 30 mins” like a mantra as I broke the ice from the icebox into a perfect rectangular cube, dropped it on the sherry glass and swiftly poured the drink from my shaker and twisting an orange peel on the rim of the glass, my hands shaky as I gave the drink to the lone woman scrolling Instagram chirping, “One Cosmo Ready”

As she graced me with a polite smile, I recognized that the bar rush slowed down; leaving with only a bunch of people standing around. My lungs caved in peace, and finally some rest. 

Or so I thought. 

You know the infamous trope where your eyes meet someone, you know that they are going to change your life forever, well I felt that was an anomaly, maybe it’s true but I feel that’s just attraction you know, or infatuation, but life-changing?

I don’t thi-

I didn't meet the love of my life in some grand fashion, like dancing in the rain or dropping my books onto his feet or the classic colliding on each other’s shoulders. I met him as I was dying my hands on a dish towel, hearing a loud call from a distance screaming, “RAFE CAMERON IS BACK BABY”

I turned around and there he was in his six-foot glory, the man I knew from whispers. 

Rafe Cameron. 

He walked over languidly, with Topper Thorton hand’s resting on his bicep like a loose branch; his arms and entire body swinging as he welcomed his supposed friend with loud, rumbling cheers. Topper was clearly inebriated or the folks say, pissed as hell.

But the first thing my eyes caught on about Rafe Cameron was his eyes. 

They were eerily blue. 

No, not just blue.

They were Aquamarine. 

The pair walked over my direction, to the counter, Rafe sporting a small smile as his unsteady feet went back and forth, his mouth mumbling nonsense as he stopped right in front of my eyeline. Now that I can see him in all his entirety under the blinding warm lights, my brain conjured so many miniscule details about this perfect stranger like the small mole on the back of his left palm, the million freckles that littered his face, short blonde buzzcut ending just inches from his nape, broad shoulders sporting a navy blue and white checkered shirt, grey linen pants with those black Oxford’s; the smell of cigarettes and fresh mint gum on his breath, fingers drumming up on the marble counter in a non-uniform staccato; aquamarine eyes holding a tornado of emotions that I can’t even grasp. And that damn head tilt he graced me as he said to me, 

“Hi, can I get an old-fashioned?”

Fuck, Naya was right. He looks gorgeous. 

“Coming right up” Now that I think about it, I didn’t even recognize that my voice reached that high when I squeaked that response.

He just smiled at me, nodding in understanding. I tried to be nonchalant, not making eye contact as my body mechanically reached up to the whiskey cabinet behind me. As I tipped over to reach the Jack Daniels Bottle, I could physically sense his eyes on me, scrutinizing my every move. My stance faltered, hands more shaky than usual as I gripped the glass bottle with all my strength, moving right back to my initial position. I can mix an old-fashioned in my sleep at this point, but for some reason, I was not feeling my mojo today. Instead, my feelings were having an out-of-body experience of being…shy for no reason. As I bent down the counter to get the muddle, I heard him say, 

“I have never seen you around here before, you new here?”

I shot right back up, muddle in my left hand and my heart in my other. 

“Umm...depends on how you define new. I started working here around two months ago.” I replied, trying not to meet his eyes. 

“Oh ok, then you are new here. I haven’t been here for three months so yeah, that’s why I didn’t recognize you….Miss?”

He was nearly crowding the counter now, hands on the marble and his face fairly near mine. His eyes wandered to my chest and I was going to have a heart attack at that very moment. Then I realized what he was doing. 

He was looking for my name badge. The badge I forgot to wear today. 

Shit.

“Sofia” 

“Well, Sofia, I am sure that you know my name…” 

Of course. The cokehead, fuckup, nepo-baby of Outer Banks. Bad News. But I didn't tell him that. I just played along with him.

“Oh, I mean I have heard about you but I don’t know for sure if that’s what your name is…I don’t wanna presume, you know”

He was full-on smirking now, “No, no, tell me what you think my name is, I don’t mind being misnamed” 

I tilted my head a bit, putting my fingers on my face, feigning deep thought, “Is it…Ralph, or Rocky or I don’t know, Ryan?”

His mouth went agape and his hands clutched his chest laughing, “Nope, I think you know my name, and by the way, do I even look like my name would be Ryan? God, that would be a disgrace” 

“Sorry, Mr. Rafe. I thought you looked like a Ryan. My deepest, most sincere apologies for the wrong assumptions” I was measuring the bitters now and pouring it into the drink. 

“Hmm…apology half accepted ‘cuz I’ll see if I wanna grant you my full apology after I judge your drink” 

I let out a breathy chuckle as I broke the ice, again, gently stirring the drink, “We’ll see” 

His attention was centered on me now, his focus zeroing on my hands and the way they twisted the single lemon peel around and twirled it on the rim of his glass. I was trembling inside, hoping to God that he wouldn’t catch my countenance stumbling and falling under his gaze. With steady hands and a frenzy heart, I gave the whiskey glass to the blue-eyed man, his hands feathered over my fingers as he took it from me. My hands felt a zap as if I touched lightning with my fingertips. His fingers were not baby-soft like most Kooks since their palms have never touched anything that makes them sweat or even work. His fingers were slightly calloused, my hands feeling the slight ridges of skin peeling off just from a moment of touch.

Fuck, why am I hyper-ventilating. 

This feeling is so unlike my usual range of emotions about Kooks from passivity to anger to slight envy about their riches, shiny gold watches, and their airiness about life that comes with money. And he is the wealthiest of them all. It’s not like my heart is beating like I need to marry this guy tomorrow rather like a wave of curiosity and a lick of infatuation encasing like no other. 

The side of his mouth turned to a slight smicker as he downed the first gulp of my drink, faking a deep thought for a minute as he replied, “Not bad, Ms.Sofia. Not bad at all.”

I was trying to look busy, looking at the blank screen of the bar computer and clicking any buttons as I said, “Told you. Now, can you apologize? Mister Rafe…”

“Cameron. And I do apologize Miss Sofia…?”

I still don’t remember why I said that whacky reply as I looked straight up at stuttered, “Cameron”

Now why did I say that? He was full-on smiling now, clutching the glass in his hands as he said, “Sofia Cameron, sounds like I should have known before ‘cuz you have my last name too.”

I was fumbling so badly, “NO, NO. It’s Ramirez. I’m Sofia Ramirez”

He was slowly shaking his head as he extended his hand to me, “Ok then, Sofia Ramirez. I take your apology in full payment. Shake on it?”

I looked around from side to side, hoping that Benny Bitch wasn’t near me as my hands snaked onto his for a firm handshake, feeling his rough yet delicate hands on mine. Fuck, I need to calm down. 

I was crashing out as I chucked, “You know this is bullshit right. What are we even doing right now?”  

“I don’t know, I thought I was trying to chat up the new bartender of the country club.”

“Well, you should stop 'cause my shift ends in like” I glanced at my imaginary wristwatch as I said, “Now. It’s nice to meet Rafe but I gotta clock out. Hope you have a good night…drinking.” 

He turned around while sitting on the barstool, raising his glass in response, “I will, Miss Sofia. Good night”

As I rushed towards the small outdoor from the counter with my satchel in clutch and my battered white Keds hot on the floor, I could feel Rafe’s eyes hovering over me, gazing at every movement I made, every breath I took. I felt pink with all this attention on me. 

I practically sprinted my way to the main reception as I went up to Maria, the receptionist; signed my name on the register, and reached my beat-down cherry-red Pontiac, Betty. I shut the car door so fast, that my stray hair went flying up to my eyes. God, this is the second time this happened today. 

The car roared to life, as I put my feet on the gas; the radio blasting a random tune. I cranked it up high, not really ready to ruminate over everything that just materialized minutes ago. I heard a pop song playing on the FM, not knowing what specific song it was 

“A very humble apology to talk mid-song but I just wanted the very good evening to all the lovely Outer Banks listeners, this is Bianca Richardson from XOXO FM 207.34. On this fine Wednesday night, I wanna call all the Swifties to sing along to this fine-ass tune so enjoy listening to Gorgeous by my favorite, Taylor Swift”

I hate the cruel play of time. 

“Ocean blue eyes 

Looking in mine

I feel like I might 

Sink and drown and die”

As the song went with only the late July breeze keeping me company, I was naively unaware that my life completely changed that night. As I caught a glimpse of the coastline beside the straight road through the side view mirror, my mind lingered on the color of the waves crashing on the beach. 

They were as blue as his eyes.

***************

Chapter 2

Author's Notes:

HEYYO, Long time no see!!! I am so sorry for the very late update. Life kicked me several times so I needed a long nap. Well here we are, with the first official chapter of the fic. Please please let me know how's the chap cuz I want to improve my writing as much as I can.

By the way, l wanna switch pov's and see what works best but for this one, I chose Sofia's pov. AGAIN LIKES, COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE SO SO APPRECIATED, but seriously every time you guys say anything I genuinely feel fireworks in my heart, thank u for your support.

This is just the beginning, you guys are in for a LONG RIDE. I am taking an hour every day for this fic so I'll be trying to update the next chapter as soon as possible even though I am very tight with college and life.

Byeee. Love youuu :)))))))))))

Please lemme know if you wanna be on the tag list.

[rafedaddy01]

I saw you across the room

Summary: you walk into Rafes parties and the moment he lays eyes on you he knows he must have you.

A/N: rafe Cameron is definitely the type of person to have a soft spot for you, but only show it when no one else is around

-

You’re not really up to this party, your friend dragged you here because she had just broken up with her boyfriend and needed “emotional support”. Which really just meant drinking her sorrows away.

To be honest you weren’t really the type to go out to parties. More of the type to stay home and read a good book while petting your cat in bed, a home body. A girl who usually kept to herself. Although you knew there was a party being thrown almost every single night, this was figure 8 after all, you never found fascination in reality like you did when you would read.

“Ariella, I really don’t wanna be here” you whined and stomped your foot into the ground like a kindergartener refusing to go to the first day of school. “And this outfit-“ Ariella was your friend since grade school, she was so much more out going and confident than you and you have no idea why she chose to be friends with you but your lucky to have her. She chose your outfit tonight, a mini black dress with the cleavage cut practically down the middle. You always had big boobs and were told they were your best feature but you weren’t the type to expose your body like some other girls would. You liked being reserved, and you were happy in your own little bubble. “Girl, stop being like that! You look hot. And we’re gonna have fun tonight, please”

You rolled your eyes but let your friend drag you inside the tannyhill mansion. You knew she needed this. Despite putting on an act of toughness, you knew she was actually devastated about breaking up with her boyfriend. Ariella was the type to cry about it alone, but in a crowd she’d usually be the one cheering everybody up while dealing with her inner demons. And plus she’s put up with so much of your bullshit you figured she deserved a night of fun.

“Oh my gosh we’re gonna have so much fun tonight!” Ariellas face beamed as she scanned the room, finding her inner circle. “Go get us some drinks, I have to say hi to some people” she let go of your hand and there you were. Standing alone, in the middle of some strangers house, wearing the skimpiest dress you owned.

-

Rafe couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you. Who were you? He’d never seen you before. He sure would have remembered if he’d fucked you. He’s probably been in every pussy on his god awful island. But you. He’s definitely never seen or been inside you, yet.

“Yo top” he nods his head in your direction, your in the kitchen pouring some drinks, “whose the chick?”

Topper eyes you up and down, “never seen her before” he goes back to explaining why basketball is better than football to some poor sap and dismissing rafe.

“Interesting” rafe says under his breath as he fixes his SnapBack and stands to make his way to you.

-

“So many drinks” you mumble to yourself as you skim the bottles lined up on the table. “Wonder which asshole this place belongs too” you scoff as you top off the two cups in front of you with some tequila.

“That would be me” your started as a voice speaks up behind you. Turning around you find a boy with a childish smirk on his face, wearing a SnapBack hat that you shouldn’t find so attractive but he makes it work, and a polo shirt and some slacks, typical figure 8 style. “The names-“

“Rafe” Ariella speaks up before the boy gets a chance. “Y/n, where have you been. I’ve been looking everywhere for you” Rafes face turns sour as he looks at your friend and then back to you. “You told me to get us some drinks” you raise the two solo cups, giving one to your friend. “Don’t even think about it” Ariella takes the drink and steps in front of you and rafe, giving him a death stare before turning around and dragging you off.

“What was that” you ask confused as she continues dragging you through the crowd, “just some asshole looking to get laid. Don’t let him even talk to you, y/n. Seriously, he’s not worth it”

-

As the rest of the night went on you got more comfortable, having had a few drinks and mingled with some of Ariellas friends.

You can’t help but feel like you’re being watched and every time you look up your eyes lock with Rafes. No matter where you were in the house you could feel his eyes on you, your body, your face.

It made you uncomfortable, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your insides turn with excitement.

You were never the type to get attention from guys. There would be some that would talk to you, but they were only after one thing and although you’ve had sex before, it was never meaningful. You’ve never found anybody who cared for your feelings and actually wanted to take the time to get to know you before.

But looking into Rafes eyes something felt different. Sure maybe he also wanted you just for your body, but it also felt like there was a connection, something pulling your body’s together. And the fact that he was hot was just a plus, you’ve never been attracted to someone this bad before.

“I’ll be right back” you lean over to your friend who’s busy talking to some guy to really hear you. You know you shouldn’t leave her this drunk and vulnerable with some rando but you’ve had to pee for so long, you couldn’t hold it anymore.

You finally found the bathroom, doing your business and washing your hands before stepping out, only to bump into a broad body that smelled like whisky mixed with sandalwood, “so sorry-“ you excuse yourself.

“No worries, I was hoping we’d run into each other” that same childish smirk on his face. “I’m rafe, I’m sure your friend told you a little about me. But I’m not all bad, trust me” he winks and your insides melt. Why are you so attracted to him? From what Ariella told you he’s a douch bag, a sleeze who’s slept with almost every girl on this island, and yet you want him to do unholy things to you.

You clear your throat before talking, “ha, well she did tell me some things, but uh, I usually like to judge people based on my own opinion.”

Rafes completely mesmerized by you. He’s never seen a girl more beautiful, and he’s been with many. There’s something about you that’s caught his attention but he can’t figure out what. All he knows is that he’s seen you, and now he has to have you.

“Right, well what do you say we go somewhere more private and get to know one another?” He cocks an eyebrow at you, he can tell you wanna say yes but you’re worried. “Hey, no worries. I won’t try anything, promise” he throws his hand in the air to show you he won’t touch you. You can’t help but let out a small laugh and that sound alone has rafe melting. Your voice is like an angel and he wants to know what other sounds he can get out of you.

“I can’t just leave Ariella alone. She’s had a few drinks and she’s with some random guy.. I want to but I can’t be a bad friend” you start to walk away and Rafes heart aches, he doesn’t wanna let you go yet.

He looks over at where your friend is, she’s making out with Kelce, rafe smirks to himself. “Trust me, she’s in good hands. Kelce is a buddy of mine, he won’t do anything to her” he turns back to you, a waiting look on his face. And when you nod your head yes his heart all but does back flips. He can’t wait to get to know you better.

Taglist

@f4ll-for-you @v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @dilvcv

[queen-of-the-misfit-toys]

Boxing Day

Warnings: none really. This is pure family fluff

Word count: 1.5 k

This is something that I wrote on the fly in about an hour. Unbetaed and not proofread 😂.

__________________________________________

“Sophie, Soph, stop!” Benedict huffed as he ran. “Wait for me.”

“A little early for you, isn't it, Mr. Bridgerton? Why it isn't even midday!”

“Ha ha Soph, very funny. Would you mind if I joined you on your walk?” He clutched at her hood as she sped up.

“Oh no humor intended, Mr. Bridgerton. I'm merely concerned for your health as proper sleep is very important. Especially for those who keep late hours for…reasons.” She sweetly smirked at him. “You are most welcome to join me. I could not stop you if I wanted as this is your family land.”

“I’m going to ignore that last remark.” He pouted.”Your concern is noted and appreciated but unnecessary as I was tucked up tight before 10 pm. Father Christmas only comes for good boys and girls.”

Sophie guffawed.

“Then I am quite certain he did not visit you, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“I can be good when I want to.” He said, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “You can find out just how good I can be whenever you like.”

She fixed him with a stern look.

“Good day, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Oh come on, Soph. I was just teasing you. Maybe…alright maybe not. And can you please drop the Mr. Bridgerton? I hate that and you know it.”

“Is that not your name? I know of no other to call you.”

“Are you purposely trying to vex me?”

“What's good for the goose and all that, Mr. Bridgerton. You intentionally vex me, while I'm trying to work I might add, all the time.”

“But it's fun to work you up.” He cooed, shooting her a crooked smile. “Not as fun as other ways I can think of to get you bothered but .. OOOFFF!”

Benedict jerked and sputtered as the cold snow ran down his face.

“What in the..”

SPLAT

“Did.. did you.. you did..you just pelted me with snowballs.” He murmured, mystified.

“No more than you deserve! And I'm quite sure you deserve even wor…AHHH.”

“Well, MISS BAEK, two can play at this game.” He shot at her, gathering another round of snow. “Do not start things you cannot stop.”

Two large handfuls landed over Sophie's head.

“BENEDICT BRIDGERTON!! HOW DARE YOU!! YOU.. YOU.. YOU CAD!!” She screamed as she picked up more ammunition.

“What's good for the goose, Miss Baek! Your own wor…” He was cut off by a snowball straight to the mouth. Coughing, he signaled for a moment. Sophie held up her hands, showing mercy, only to be accosted by a volley.

“OHHHHHH I WILL HAVE YOU BENEDICT BRIDGERTON!!”

“Will you really, Miss Baek? Because you've been denying me an awful lot!” He laughed as he sent another round towards her back as she ran.

“What is going on here?”

Sophie and Benedict both turned quickly to see Anthony and Kate approaching, bemused looks on their faces.

“Lord and Lady Bridgerton, please excuse this.” Sophie sputtered, dropping into a quick curtsy.”

“What are you two doing out and about? I figured you'd be abed for a while after the early morning with the boys.”

“I paid Colette an extra week's wages to take them today so we could have some time.” Anthony laughed. “Good thing too as you seem to need some assistance, Miss Baek. My brother seems to be displaying some rather ungentlemanly behavior.”

“Oh no, Lord Bridgerton. We were just playing a game. Nothing untoward happened at all, I assure you.”

“Hmmm..not sure I believe that. But..”

“We really should give him the benefit of the doubt, Darling. It does seem as if it was an innocent snowball fight.”

“Thank you Kate. I'm glad you're on my side.”

“Really, Kathani? Taking his side. Well alright then. I guess it's you and me against THEM, Miss Baek.” Anthony announced, taking off his coat and unwinding his cravat.

“What? Lord Bridgerton?”

“Anthony, what in the world?” Kate asked, shocked and delighted at her husband, as Benedict stared, slack-jawed, at his brother.

“Please call me Anthony. We are comrades in arms now, are we not? May I call you Sophie?”

“Of course, my Lord, I mean An…Anthony.”

“Wonderful. Temporary truce as we each build our arsenals hmmm?”

“What are you lot doing out here?”

“EL! HY!! Come quickly! We're about to do battle!” Benedict shouted excitedly as Eloise and Hyacinth approached.

“I am not fighting against Sophie!” Hyacinth declared. “I will join her side.”

“That's my girl!” Anthony exclaimed, grabbing her in a hug. “What say you, El? Are for the forces of good? Or Them?” He said jokingly.

“Remember who warms your cockles, Lord!” Kate shot at him.

“You're the one who chose the side of evil, my love. Choices have consequences, Darling.” He volleyed a ball at his Viscountess.

“Oh I can't believe you did that! Your own wife!

I'm on your side, Kate! We'll take him down heartily! No offense, Sophie, I love you but…” She gestured at her brother.”

“It will be an honor to defeat you on the field of battle, Miss Eloise.” Sophie curtseyed and winked.

“Are we missing something fun?”

They all turned to see Frannie and John, Simon and Daphne.

“We're having a snow war!” Hyacinth screamed. “You must choose your sides!”

“I will certainly be on the side of good and righteousness ao I choose…Benedict.” The Duke of Hastings declared. “Come, John, join me and let us take up arms against our wives.”

“Simon! I haven't even decided yet!” Daphne exclaimed.

“Pshhhh…we all know you are NOT going to go against Anthony.” Eloise smirked. “You are far too attached, sister. Frannie, what about you though? Where does your loyalty lie?”

“Not getting involved, dear sister. But I will happily stand back and watch you lot pummel each other.”

“Come onnnnn…let's get this going!! I need to throw something NOW!” Benedict exclaimed as he lobbied two balls at Sophie.

“Oh It's on now!” Anthony shouted, signalling the start of war.

The battle raged for only God knows how long with many casualties on both sides, with Francesca tending the wounded.

“Watch what you're throwing, you bloody idiot!” Anthony yelled at Eloise as he was hit with a snow covered rock.

“You nearly took my eye out with a stick, cretan!” Benedict shouted back.

“ Children, children, what is goi…”

Silence descended as the combatants realized that Lady Violet Bridgerton, Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton, MOTHER, had been hit.

Violet stood there in shock. Agatha, Lady Danbury, at her side, looking between the two groups, laughter threatening to escape.

“Oh mother I'm sure..”

“Hush Daph,” Anthony ordered.”It didn't come from our side.”

“Well it didn't come from us!” Benedict countered.

“I'm afraid it did.”John said quietly. “I'm so sorry, Mother Violet. It just…happened. In the heat of the moment.”

Violet walked over and grasped his hand.

“All is forgiven, John. I know you meant no harm, unlike some of my children.”

“ Hey!!”

“But I'm afraid there must be consequences.”

Violet reached down and scooped up a handful of snow.

“Mother, what are you doing?” Anthony exclaimed, bewildered.

“Avenging myself, Darling.” She shot over her shoulder as she volleyed the ball at John. “Do you have room for one more warrior, Anthony?”

“I need a break, Lord Bridg…Anthony.” Sophie whispered. They had been at it for well more than an hour.

“Of course, Sophie. I may join you. I cannot feel my hands any longer.”

They sat down under a tree to rest.

“May I ask you a personal question, Sophie?”

“Ummm…yes, I guess.” Sophie answered, fearful of what may be said.

“What are your intentions with my brother?”

Sophie's face fell and she looked away.

“I have no intentions, my Lord. We have…affection..for one another but I know my station. I try to dissuade him but…” Sophie trailed off as a tear escaped her eye.

Anthony sighed.

“I am a stern man, Sophie, you know that, and a rule follower. But I now know that love cannot be contrived or forced. You love who you love. I want Benedict to be happy. And you make him happier than I've ever seen him. If you choose to have him, I will be more than happy to break some rules for you to be together.”

“Lord Bridgerton, I…I…” Sophie broke into sobs.

“Time out, time out!!” Benedict screamed when he saw Sophie crying. “ What did you say to her?” He yelled at Anthony as he ran over and gathered her in his arms.

“You have my blessings, brother.” Anthony said softly. “I will help you two however I can.”

“I don't know exactly what's going on but I have a good idea.” Simon murmured. “You have my support as well.”

“As well as mine and Frannie's.” John whispered, coming over to put his hand on Benedict’s shoulder. “You encouraged me with your sister and have always been a good friend, now brother. I want you to have this happiness.”

“Well, Miss Baek, it seems you and Mr. Bridgerton have quite a bit of support.” Lady Danbury sauntered over. “You have mine as well.”

Benedict sat in amazement as his family all told Sophie how much they loved her and couldn't wait for her to be their sister.

“Well Sophie,” He whispered to her, “will you have me like you said you would?”

“I will, Benedict.” She whispered back, kissing his cheek. “But first…” she shouted gleefully as she dumped a heap of snow on his head.

[haveyouanytime]

Can I please request a hurt/comfort fic with Vincent and fem reader? 🥺

vincent renzi hurt/comfort | cw: nudity but not sexual

also so so sorry anon that this literally took over a month and it's a little short (878 words) (ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣﹏ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣) i'll take this as an opportunity for a little update on me! i just finished my first ever year of university and my birthday is on sunday (6/2)! so what a better time for a comeback! i'll try my absolute hardest to be a lot more speedy with my writing, and my requests are still open!

౨ৎ daily click to help palestine 🍉

Vincent’s office door creaks open, and he simply sighs in response. He was caught up in an intense case, practically having him glued to his laptop and files. He massages the back of his neck, huffing, “I’ll come up to bed shortly, dove.” 

“You forgot.” 

Vincent tenses in his seat at your defeated tone, a million things rushing through his mind at what he could have possibly done to deserve you sounding so hurt. He glanced up, seeing you in your best date night outfit. Hair done, makeup on, in his favorite little black dress, and your wedding ring twinkling against the light of his desk’s warm lamp. 

His eyes twitch to the calendar atop his desk, confirming that yes it was the first of the month. He forgot the only thing you had asked for since you married him. You were no stranger to his late nights-- you were together through college, studying alongside him late into the night, getting a taste of his stress level and workload as a future lawyer. So once you secured a degree, a ring, and a flat in France, all you asked for was one night a month. The first Friday of each month was date night, one you were both obligated to. No work, no calls, and emergencies were rare. 

But now, years in, he had forgotten. 

“My dove,” He stands from his desk, his brows furrowed as he approaches you. “No, no, I did not forget--” 

“You did!” You step back, your voice soft as it trembles with the forming tears in your eyes. “I sat there for so long, Vincent. I waited for you, but you forgot.” 

“My dove, my girl, please.” He pleaded with a gentle voice, stepping forward and cupping your face in his hands. “Please, forgive me. It’s just-- my work-- ah, putain, I’m an idiot.” 

You couldn’t help the tears that slipped from your eyes. He wiped them away with his thumbs, letting you voice your anger in your own way. 

“I know you are angry with me,” He cooed, his brows furrowed as he looked down into your twinkling, tear-filled eyes, “My dove, please, let me make it up to you.” 

You nod, sniffling and wiping away your tears. As soon as he sees the nod, he picks you up delicately, treating you as if you were made of porcelain. He carried you bridal style to your bathroom, placing you down on the edge of the tub. You sniffled as your tears slowly went away, leaving you only with a runny nose, watching as he turned on the hot water and cursed in French as he looked around for your lavender-scented bath bubbles. 

Finding it finally, he stopped the hot water and poured in some of the bubbles. He let it simmer, bringing his attention back to you. 

“My pretty girl,” He cooed, placing delicate kisses on your cheeks. He ran his fingers through your hair, murmuring his petnames for you repeatedly against your skin as he led you to stand. His hands reached the thin straps of your dress, beginning to pull it down to reveal your skin. The lack of a bra surprised him, but he didn’t reject the idea. He let your dress fall to your ankles, his hands brushing over your exposed skin. He kissed down to your stomach as he knelt, unbuckling your heels to peel them off your feet. He pushed down your underwear, placing a chaste kiss on your sternum before leading you to sit in the tub. With you engulfed in the warm water, he began to strip off his suit. 

He was a lot more clunky than sensual, his tired and aching joints making him sloppily unbutton his slacks and shirt. You knew he was tired when he almost forgot to take off his socks to join you in the tub. With him now just as bare as you and lying behind you in the tub, he pulled you close to him, your back flush against his chest. 

He placed a soft kiss on your shoulder, murmuring, “I can’t express how sorry I am, my dove.” 

“It’s okay now. As long as you still love me.” You softly respond, taking his hand that rested on your waist and intertwining your fingers with his. You felt his lips place more warm kisses along your skin, following up from the end of your collarbone up to the curve of your neck. 

“I’ll always love you, my dove.” He whispered, his kisses reaching up to your jawline. “To the ends of the Earth. Even in our next lifetime, and the ones after that. I never want you to think I choose my work over you. My mind slipped this once, I promise I’ll try to make sure it never happens again.” 

“Good. Divorce cancelled.” You smile, turning in his lap and placing a peck on his lips as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Ah, naughty girl, you can’t divorce me.” He chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I know every lawyer in town. I’ll make a few calls, and suddenly we cannot divorce because no one will represent you.” 

“You’re no fun.” You pout, running your fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair. 

He places a peck on your lips, chuckling, “I know.”

[zablife]

Could we please please PLEASE get a part two of “Happiness is a Butterfly” ? It’s so heartbreaking!!🥺🥺🥺poor reader!!

Hi lovely, I'm pleased to hear you enjoyed the fic enough to want more! I hadn't planned on writing a second part, but as I stopped to consider it, my mind went wild with possibilities if Johnny found out the reader didn't follow his instructions. If you're curious how he reacted to the news she kept the baby, you can read it under the cut. Warnings: This is a very dark version of Johnny and it's def OOC so don't come for me!! I explored another side of him here that even scares me. Threats of violence!!

As Johnny's best friend Brucie kept watch for him those first few months, his eyes and ears trained on you to be sure you didn't do something stupid like approach Betty in the market or outside the girls' school. He soon realized it was a waste of time because you didn't have a vengeful bone in your body. You resumed a quiet, and somewhat lonely, life on the other side of town almost immediately. However, the more he followed you, noticing a routine of doctor's visits and frequent stops in the children's boutique downtown, he came to a damning conclusion. You were still pregnant.

Though Johnny seemed keen to know about this detail of your life so he could ensure you did as he asked, something always stopped Brucie from confiding it, his benevolent nature outweighing his loyalty. Who was he to say you didn't deserve to keep your child? And you'd asked nothing in return so far as he could tell, cutting ties with Johnny and the Vandals. So against his better judgement he returned home for good to keep your secret.

It was a decision he would come to regret as he sat waiting for the January meeting to begin, passing Gail a beer as she chatted idly with Johnny. The words seemed frozen on her lips even as she uttered them, Brucie's jaw going slack at the mention of your name. "Yeah, the kid's big as a house! Who woulda thought she'd be havin' a little one so soon, huh?"

Johnny's face hardened into an unreadable mask, careful not to show any outward signs of shock or surprise. However, Brucie knew his friend well enough to recognize the silent rage building behind his eyes. His pursed lips turned to an insincere smile as he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "So who's the lucky guy?" he prodded, looking between Brucie and Gail.

The tightness in Brucie's chest grew until he could no longer stand it, reaching for a cigarette to distract himself with some small measure of comfort. Corky and Wahoo played a game of pool in the corner, the harsh clack of breaking pool balls punctuating the silence as they began circling the table to line up the next shot.

Gail shrugged, "Some no account she was seein' over the summer. I don't remember anybody comin' around though, do you?" she asked casually before adding, "Anyway, he ain't gonna help. Sad, huh?" Swiveling in her chair, she turned to her husband. "Brucie, honey, that reminds me. I promised her you'd go over and shovel the stairs. They're covered in snow and ice."

"Sure," he replied with a slow exhale of smoke, accepting the kiss she placed on his cheek as she excused herself from the table.

Johnny took a moment to light a cigarette as he waited for Gail to walk out of earshot, eventually ducking his head in quiet conference. "You know Betty's cousin took a bad fall this time last year. It's a real shame when accidents happen, ain't it?" he mused, eyes roving over Brucie's to be sure he understood.

Brow knit with concern over the implication, Brucie shook his head against the idea, "Don't do this, you're not thinkin' straight."

Fist pounding against the table hard enough to rattle the scores of empty beer bottles, Johnny seethed, "Me? You had a chance to tell me and you didn't!" He inhaled deeply, collecting himself before adding ominously, "so now this has to happen a different way."

Brucie looked away as indignation kindled a fire inside him. He set his jaw tightly before he ground out his firm reply. "She didn't do anything wrong, Johnny. You gonna punish her for your sins?"

Johnny scoffed, "And I suppose you're Mother Theresa?" Pointing his cigarette at his friend he growled, "You forget the times I protected you, all the years we known each other." He held Brucie's gaze with a knowing look before Brucie tore his eyes away, stabbing the butt of his cigarette into the table forcefully.

Brucie bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood, swallowing harshly as he realized this was an argument he wouldn't win. If it wasn't him, Johnny would send someone else.

Seeing the look of resignation wash over Brucie's face, Johnny sat back in his chair and propped his feet on the table, lacing his hands over his stomach with a satisfied nod. "That's what I thought."

[e-adlirez]

You got any more hot takes for us?? :3c

It took me a loooonnnggg while to come up with any that I considered hot takes, but I'll try my best haha

(I may have said these before, but I forgor so)

Hot take: Pam is not supposed to be the group comedic relief; Nicky is. Now that Pam has taken that role in the group in the later books, Nicky is basically a non-character and it makes me sad :(

Cold take: Nicky deserves to have her cowboy hat back. It's where 60% of her power is in, we need our crazy Aussie gremlin to gremlin another day please

Hot take: Violet liking tea isn't a bad stereotype thing, especially with how they adapted it into later books and her non-English lore. It's not that she's Chinese and therefore she likes tea, she's a goddamn tea connoisseur who just so happens to be Chinese. (Yes the earlier books didn't handle it as gracefully but cut them some slack, it was the 2000s, after all)

Lukewarm/warm take: Colette has had more fashion fails than Violet, ironically.

Hot take: Paulina is the most generic/bland of the five. I'm sorry, but it's true. She is the blandest of the five, her alleged mom friend role doesn't get explored nearly enough, she's mostly in the background, and being an IT kid is not a personality trait. The only personality traits I can think of is that she is chronically online (in the workaholic kind of way, not the "has been scrolling on Twitter for 9 hours" way), and she and Nicky put their everything into what they're doing enough that sometimes they butt heads over it.

Hot take: Nicky is not stupid. She is a dumbass, but she's not stupid. She has that ADHD flavor of hyperfixating on something so hard that when she plans a trip, she plans out a whole-ass itinerary complete with little factoids about the places and where they're staying. She plans so thoroughly that even Violet doesn't have to add anything to her plans because they are just that rock solid. She hyperfixates so hard that when disruptions ruin her plans, she goes into ":[" mode-- god she's just like me fr

Hot take: We need more passive-aggressive Violet in the books. We just need it. It's funny. In fact, we need the girls all in all to be a little meaner, a little more shamelessly blunt, a little more unafraid of roasting the crap out of some people.

Hot take: The old profiles of the girls are crap. Like, actually crap. Sure they're thematic with the journalism profile thing and they're good at giving a general overview of their name, nationality, strengths and weaknesses passports/social security numbers, it is absolutely NOT a reliable method of getting a gist of what their personalities are like. Unfortunately as far as I'm aware, there's no real way of getting a good look at them and what they're like in a nutshell (besides maybe the occasional good fic and I guess I'll toss in the GS 101 slide here too), but even then it's like eeehhhhh, I feel like there's so much of them that can't be put into words but is also showcased really well in the Italian TS books mrrrrrr -m-

Hot take: Vissia/Vanilla/Vic de Vissen > Rebecca/Ruby/Ryder Flashyfur

These are the ones I have that can remember so far ^^