#truly awesome work sweetheart

[forthelostones]

𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 ➺ 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚢 #8

anderson construction and landscaping had been parked outside your door since you returned home from university. as if the summer couldn't get any hotter, the business owner works overtime in your area. anderson is collecting new, loyal clients of your neighbors, cementing her permanence in your life for the next few months. what's to come of your girlish crush when she keeps showing up?

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 18+ (mdni); age-gap, young!reader, older!abby, butch!abby, slow-burn, suggestive language, thoughts of infidelity, ellie ft, smoking/drinking, mentions of parents, nickname: sweetheart, and modern au.

𝚊𝚗. guys, you're awesome that's for supporting me. i've recently stopped using grammarly for a more real writing experience. so if things are wonky, just know thats why! no more ai help.

♫ 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. want me by chloe x halle ♫

You stumble through Ms. Anderson’s living room to find a spare blanket hidden somewhere in the darkness. With the terms you and Ellie are on, it wouldn’t be wise to have her pick you up tonight. Especially since you hadn’t told her you were hired by Abigail as her assistant. Not that she had outwardly admitted she had issues with Abby, but you knew Ellie more than anyone else — she was jealous. It was going to come up sooner or later considering you will have to see her on site but for now, you just needed to sleep.

You check in the corner near the massive bookshelf to find an ottoman hiding a fluffy black comforter. You creep through the house to search for the bathroom but not before you check on her. So, as the door opens and you see a snoring Abby sprawled out messily on her large bed, hair flaring on the silk pillowcase, mouth open and one arm hanging off the bed. You walk to close her curtains and take her now empty water glass with you out of the room. You handle it carefully and set it on a countertop. You wanted her. You craved her differently than you did Ellie. It was foolish but when her eyes hovered over your body today, you knew she wanted something from you. You don’t think she even knew what it was, if it was sex, companionship, or both, it was something. Something you had to find out.

This often happened, you thought, a mature woman could increase your curiosity easily and swiftly. They forced you to compare your relationship with Ellie to them and wonder how was it truly to fuck someone who knew exactly what they were doing. And Ms. Anderson knew exactly what she was doing. Staring at your curves so intently, and piercing your soul with those heavy eyes every chance she got. It felt good to watch the handsome woman admire you and possibly reminisce about her former self. Suddenly warm, you linger on to find her bathroom and flickered on the light. 

The tiling was navy and white hexagons layered up and down the length of the room. On the left just as you entered was a wall with five inch deep shelving embedded in it. She was so organized, items sat in small matching boxes, not overfilled but just enough. It amazed you. All black boxes sat on three shelves neatly labeled with their contents: medical, personal, and hair. You close the door softly and pick through the first two baskets, trying to not disturb their contents. Beside the shelves on the opposite wall is a small window that is slightly open, probably to help with the moisture and it’s covered in privacy film. Her neighborhood was noisy with a variety of buzzing lightning bugs and cicadas.

Next to it is the wide shower encased in reflective glass spanning almost half of the rooms size. Inside were waterproof shelves holding more of Abby’s products and a wooden showering bench. Finally, you turn to the mirror that faces the shower directly and begin to wash your face off in the sink. The summertime was unforgiving and you started to feel it — sticky neck and a damp back was motivation enough to risk a shower and have her realize you never left. 

Your fingers trace Abby’s usual products, not that you were shocked but you did crack a smile at the common theme of vanilla. You fold your clothes and place it on the sink and begin to lather a small dollop of her body wash into your skin. The water pressure was lush and the heat alone was hotter than you were used to but it felt so soothing, so right.

What would it be like to shower with Ms. Anderson on the days you’d spend the night? Her wide, wet hands tracing against your spine and wrapping around your waist to pull you into her needy body. Spreading warm, bubbly soap over your breasts and gently wrapping her fingers around your neck. A soft sigh escapes you as you fantasize about the woman who owns this house — who practically built it. You could slip into her bedroom right now and confess. 

But what was there to confess to Abby? That you had a crush on the woman? Or that you saw how easy it was for her to lead and how much that turned you on… ridiculous. This wasn’t unusual, you had crushes in your life and you thought that was normal. The girl from Chemistry, the TA in Philosophy, or your English professor, it was interesting to see people differently and fantasize. But there was a different level with Abby, you thought about her, not just in the moments you see her but after. Pondering on the what-ifs, you wanted her to see you differently than she did now. 

You finally turned the water off and stepped out onto the fluffy shower mat, mirror evenly steamed up and a creeping realization that you were standing naked in your new boss’ home. The comfort was over and now the feeling became intrusion, you were out of your mind. A creaking noise outside of the door awakened your senses further, the noise in your head was your heart. Air-drying would have to do. Back in your clothes and in her living room asylum was found under the down-feather cover. It shouldn’t feel this good doing something this bad, staying without invitation, but you knew she wouldn’t mind. To wake up to a relaxed, totally open you on her couch because your safety was her main priority. 

A warm morning sun welcomed you out of a slumber of fantasies and one of reality. You were inside Ms. Anderson’s house, lying down as if you were at a sleepover. You sat up immediately once you heard a familiar step pad down the hallway to empty into the living room. Abby rubs her eyes awake and stretches. That tight, white shirt pressed against her body deliciously, exposing her frigid nipples that were punctured with rings. You blink ferociously, hoping you were awake and not dreaming. The protruding metal laid perfectly flush against the fat of her breast, outlining a small circle on each nipple. The sensation filling your mouth could only be described as mouthwatering. 

“Oh, hi?” She yawns. 

“Good morning, I slept here bec—” 

“It’s alright, I know. It was nice what you did,” she leaned on the door frame. “I don’t deserve it but I’m thankful, so thank you.” 

You begin to fold the duvet, your clothes were tucked in awkward positions, exposing thigh and shoulder, a chill carried over you. “It really was not problem, I wanted to make sure you didn’t miss your meeting this morning that you told me about, remember?” You flush. 

“Right,” 

The woman took a hand through her hair to clean herself up. Her stomach popped a bit over her waistband revealing lingering sprawl of light hair towards the center of her belly. Those thighs filled out her boxers wonderfully and you couldn’t pull your eyes away from them, hoping one day you'd be able to be crushed in between —

“Technically you don’t start until next week.” Abby covers her chest with her forearms suddenly feeling insecure. 

“I know but seeing you last night made me worry that you wouldn’t wake up this early.” You smiled. 

Abby just nodded her head, unsure of what to say next. 

“I’m sorry for that, it was completely unlike me.” 

The distance between you both felt vast, like you were on two opposing continents, like you did something wrong. 

“Clearly, you have a lot on your mind.” You mutter gently. 

Abby directs you into the kitchen where she opens up her small windows to air the house out and start a fresh pot of coffee, her gray fuzzy house shoes scratching against the hardwood. 

“Why don’t you come along with me today, to my client meeting? It’ll be training.” 

You stood with your back against her cool fridge and peered down at your current attire. It would be much better than walking around the neighborhood today with mom and a potential argument with Ellie festering. “That could be perfect but I need to wear something more up to par with you.” 

A laugh bellowed from Abby’s plump belly. 

“I wear ten year old cargo pants and tee shirts but whatever you say. You want a cup?” 

You just nod at the pure persuasion of the fresh, hot coffee infiltrating the air. 

“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet though.” 

“Right, um I left one in the bathroom for you, extras from the dentists should do the job.” 

꒰ঌ ໒꒱

It hadn’t slipped out of your mind that Abby said her clients mom was interested in meeting her daughter. Abigail appeared as if she had fought a million hangovers before in her life, she was glowing. Her farce about cargo pants and t-shirts went out the window this morning when she slicked her hair in a low braid, perfectly french-ed onto her scalp. Although the outfit was a bit outdated, she looked as daring as ever, dark green button down top with cropped sleeves and black chino pants. She was actively trying to looking good. She was kind enough to take you back home to change and get ready for the day. It all worked out since she had to check up on the current project. 

“I really appreciate your family for thinking of me yesterday. It’s rare that clients think so highly of us construction workers. The most we get are drinks but no one thinks about the actual energy that we exert and how high our food intake is.” 

How were you to tell her it was mostly you, not your parents, they were just the willing party. 

“Of course, I’m glad you enjoyed it, seemed like you really need it.” 

Abby’s posture changed but her eyes stayed forward. 

“You’re a great chef.” She turned slightly to connect with you. She needed you to understand how deeply she admired how you took care of her, since the first interaction. She wanted to be clear about what her words meant, they weren't empty, or so you hoped.

“Thank you, hopefully I can cook for you again.” You say, poking an already anxious bear.

[muiitoloko]

Hi! First of all, i love all of your works <3 your works make my day a lot better!

Can i ask if you ok with daddy kink or not? or maybe sugar daddy/baby girl?

If yes, do you have plan to write any Alan characters with this plot? (I would love to read about Frank🫣)

Title: By His Command

Summary: Frank’s commanding nature is matched only by his desire to please and protect you. A night of teasing turns into an exploration of trust and passion.

Pairing: Frank Benson × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, Daddy kink

Author's Notes: Hi there! 😊 Thank you so much for your lovely words—they truly make my day brighter! 💖 Regarding your question, I’m open to exploring daddy kink and sugar daddy/baby girl dynamics in my stories. In fact, I’ve been thinking about incorporating these themes with some of the Alan characters, including Frank! 🫣 Your enthusiasm and support mean the world to me, and I’d love to create something special for you and other fans. Stay tuned, and thanks again for the awesome suggestion! 🥰✨

Also read on Ao3

Frank sat at the kitchen table, attempting to focus on his dinner, but his attention kept straying to you. The clinking of pots and pans as you washed up only drew his gaze back again and again, especially with those tiny denim shorts hugging your curves like a second skin. Every movement you made was unintentional torture—the way you leaned forward, your hips swaying slightly, your thighs exposed, your perfect ass practically calling to him.

He gripped his fork tighter, his hazel eyes narrowing as he tried to tear his gaze away and focus on the plate in front of him. But his hand itched, the urge building with each passing second. Frank had always prided himself on his discipline, but tonight it was wearing thin.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He set his fork down with deliberate precision, his baritone voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me, sweetheart?”

You paused, glancing over your shoulder with an innocent smile. “What do you mean, Frank?” you asked, your tone sweet but knowing, as if you were fully aware of the effect you were having on him.

Frank’s hazel eyes darkened, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You know damn well what I mean,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, sending a shiver down your spine.

You turned back to the sink, a mischievous glint in your eye as you reached for another pot. “I’m just cleaning up, Daddy,” you said innocently, using the title you knew would ignite something primal in him.

Frank pushed his chair back, the sound of it scraping against the floor making your heart race. You could hear his heavy, deliberate footsteps approaching, and before you could say another word, his large hand came down hard on your ass, the sound echoing in the kitchen.

“Frank!” you gasped, half in surprise, half in delight, as the sting spread deliciously across your skin.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he growled, “That’s for teasing me, baby girl. Wearing those tiny shorts, swaying your hips like that… you know exactly what you’re doing.”

You bit your lip, your cheeks flushing as you turned to face him, your back pressed against the counter. His hands came to rest on either side of you, trapping you in, his broad chest just inches from yours. His hazel eyes bore into yours, filled with a mix of frustration and desire.

“I think you like driving me mad,” he muttered, his hooked nose brushing against yours as he leaned in closer. “But you forget who’s in charge here.”

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. “You are, Daddy.”

“That’s right,” he murmured, his hand trailing up your thigh, rough and possessive, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “And if you keep acting like a naughty little girl, I’m going to have to remind you exactly what happens to brats like you.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers traced the edge of your shorts, his touch firm yet teasing. “Maybe I like being reminded,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Frank let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “Oh, you like it, do you?” he said, his voice dripping with dark amusement. His hand slid up further, cupping your ass through the thin denim. “Then you’d better be ready for what’s coming.”

Before you could respond, Frank’s lips were on yours, claiming you with a hunger that made your knees weak. His kiss was firm, demanding, his hands roaming over your body as if he couldn’t get enough of you. When he pulled back, his hazel eyes were blazing with desire.

“Bedroom. Now,” he commanded, his voice a low growl that sent a thrill through you.

You nodded, your heart pounding as you turned to obey, but Frank stopped you with a sharp slap to your ass. “Not so fast,” he murmured, pulling you back against him. “You think I’m letting you off that easy? I’ve got plans for you, baby girl.”

His hands gripped your hips, guiding you toward the table instead. “Bend over,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your cheeks flushed as you complied, leaning over the table, your tiny shorts riding up even higher. Frank’s hands roamed over your ass, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts and pulling them down slowly, savoring the sight of you exposed before him.

“You’ve been teasing me all night,” he muttered, his baritone voice rough with desire. “Now, it’s my turn.”

His lips trailed down your spine, his hands kneading your hips as he took his time, making you squirm beneath his touch. “Such a perfect little thing,” he murmured, his fingers brushing over your skin. “All mine.”

You let out a soft moan, arching your back as his touch grew more insistent. “Daddy, please…” you whispered, your voice trembling with need.

Frank smirked, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Oh, you’re going to beg, baby girl,” he murmured, his voice a sinful promise. “And I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

Frank’s first slap landed sharply on your ass, the sound echoing in the kitchen. You let out a soft gasp, wincing at the sting. “Frank!” you whined, glancing over your shoulder at him. His hazel eyes gleamed with a mixture of discipline and amusement, his baritone voice calm but firm.

“Quiet,” he commanded, his large hand smoothing over the spot he’d just struck, only to bring it down again, harder this time. “You don’t get to tease me all night and not face the consequences, baby girl.”

Each slap was deliberate, measured, the sharp sting spreading warmth through your skin as you squirmed against the table. “Daddy, please…” you whimpered, your voice trembling with both protest and anticipation.

Frank chuckled darkly, his hooked nose brushing against the back of your neck as he leaned down. “Oh no, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “You don’t get to beg your way out of this. Not yet.” His hand came down again, the sting radiating through your body, leaving your ass cheeks tinged with red.

You whimpered, your fingers gripping the edge of the table as his punishment continued, each slap igniting a mix of pain and pleasure that sent heat pooling low in your belly. “Frank…” you moaned, your voice breathy as you writhed under his hand.

He finally stopped, his hand resting on your heated skin, fingers tracing soothing circles over the red marks he’d left. “There’s my good girl,” he murmured, his tone softening as he leaned down to press a kiss to the small of your back. “You took that so well for me.”

Sliding his hands under your thighs, he helped you stand upright, his strong arms supporting you as you steadied yourself. He tugged your tiny shorts back up, his fingers lingering on your hips as he adjusted the waistband. “Go upstairs,” he ordered, his voice low and commanding. “Get ready for me. You’ve got five minutes.”

Your heart raced at his words, knowing exactly what he meant. Without hesitation, you turned and made your way up the stairs, your legs trembling slightly from the intensity of the moment. Behind you, Frank stayed in the kitchen, his hazel eyes following your retreating form with a possessive gleam.

He reached down to adjust the gun tucked securely into the waistband of his pants, a weapon he never went without, a habit born from years of discipline and responsibility. He carefully set it on the counter, the cool metal glinting under the kitchen lights. Despite his rough exterior and commanding demeanor, Frank was meticulous in everything he did. Like the disciplined soldier he had always been, he moved with purpose, setting the table, wiping it down, and putting away the leftovers from his dinner.

With the kitchen spotless, Frank stood for a moment, his white hair damp from sweat, his chubby frame exuding a quiet strength. He ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath before heading upstairs, his steps slow and deliberate, the anticipation building with each step.

When he entered the bedroom, he found you exactly as he expected—kneeling at the foot of the bed, your hands resting on your thighs, your head bowed slightly in submission. The sight sent a surge of heat through him, his hazel eyes darkening as they roamed over your body.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his baritone voice low and thick with desire as he stepped closer. “My perfect little girl, always so eager to please her daddy.”

You lifted your head, meeting his gaze with wide, adoring eyes. “I’m ready for you, Daddy,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Frank smirked, his hooked nose casting a shadow as he tilted his head, taking in every inch of you. “Good,” he said simply, his voice a rumble that sent shivers down your spine. He reached out, his fingers trailing over your cheek before slipping under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. “You know what to do.”

You nodded, your heart racing as you leaned forward, your hands moving to the waistband of his pants. As you began to unfasten them, Frank’s hand came to rest on the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he watched you with a mixture of patience and hunger.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me tonight,” he murmured, his voice dripping with approval. “Let’s see if you can keep it up.”

His words sent a thrill through you, and as you worked to please him, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love for the man who had always taken such good care of you. Despite his rough edges and commanding demeanor, Frank’s devotion to you was unwavering, and in moments like these, you felt it more deeply than ever.

As you knelt before Frank, your hands gripping his thighs for balance, you looked up to find him completely lost in the pleasure you were giving him. His hazel eyes fluttered closed, his head tilted slightly back, and his jaw slackened, though he quickly caught himself and straightened, his hand tightening its grip in your hair. A small, stifled sound escaped his throat, and you felt a thrill knowing you had almost broken through his carefully maintained composure.

Frank’s outdated sense of masculinity still clung to him like his uniform—a constant reminder of his discipline and control. He believed men shouldn’t moan in bed, shouldn’t let go entirely, but you had made it your personal mission to shatter that illusion. The suppressed groans rumbling in his chest only spurred you on, your tongue swirling around him as your lips slid down his length.

“Goddammit, girl,” he muttered, his baritone voice thick with desire as he glanced down at you, his hazel eyes dark and burning with barely restrained lust. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

You smirked, your lips still wrapped around him, the vibrations from your hum sending a shiver through his body. His fingers tangled tighter in your hair, pulling you slightly closer as he tried to maintain his control. “That mouth of yours,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, “is far too skilled for your own good, little one.”

You pulled back slightly, letting him slide out with an audible pop, your eyes locked on his as you licked your lips. “Is that so, Daddy?” you whispered, your voice soft and teasing. “Maybe I’m just trying to make you lose that control you’re so proud of.”

Frank chuckled darkly, though the sound was strained, his arousal evident in the way his chest rose and fell with each labored breath. “Oh, you like pushing your luck, don’t you?” he growled, his hand tightening in your hair as he tilted your head back to force you to meet his gaze. “Be careful, little girl. You’re playing a dangerous game.”

Your smile widened, and you leaned forward again, brushing your lips over the sensitive head of his cock. “Maybe I like playing with fire,” you murmured, your tongue flicking out to taste him. “Especially when it’s you, Daddy.”

His breath hitched, and for a brief moment, his composure cracked, a low, guttural groan escaping him before he clenched his jaw, stifling the sound. You saw the flicker of frustration in his eyes as he regained control, his grip on your hair firm but not painful.

“You’re a menace,” he muttered, his hooked nose flaring slightly as he inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling with effort. “Always testing me, always pushing.” His other hand reached down, cupping your chin as his thumb traced over your swollen lips. “But you’re mine, aren’t you?”

You nodded, your voice breathy as you whispered, “Yes, Daddy. Always yours.”

“Good girl,” he said, his voice softening slightly, though the dominant edge remained. “Now get back to it. I’m not done with you yet.”

You obeyed without hesitation, taking him into your mouth again, hollowing your cheeks as you slid down his length. His fingers tightened in your hair, his hips rocking forward slightly, his breath catching as he watched you work. Each flick of your tongue, each moan you let out around him, pushed him closer to the edge, his control slipping bit by bit.

“Christ, you’re perfect,” he muttered, his voice a low rasp as his hazel eyes burned with desire. “The way you look at me… the way you take me…” He trailed off, his jaw clenching again as another moan threatened to escape. “Fuck,” he growled under his breath, his frustration with himself evident as he struggled to maintain his composure.

You pulled back once more, your lips glistening as you looked up at him, your voice a soft, teasing whisper. “Let go, Frank. Let me hear you.”

His hazel eyes met yours, a flicker of hesitation flashing across his face before it melted away, replaced by something raw and primal. With a low growl, he cupped your face in both hands, pulling you to your feet in one swift motion. His lips crashed against yours, demanding and hungry, as he backed you toward the bed.

“You want me to let go?” he murmured against your lips, his voice a dark, sinful promise. “Fine. But don’t think for a second you’re in control here.”

Frank’s hands gripped your shoulders firmly as he pushed you gently back onto the bed, his hazel eyes locking onto yours with a possessive, almost predatory gleam. His baritone voice, calm and commanding, sent a shiver down your spine as he murmured, “You’ve been testing me all night, sweetheart. Now it’s time I remind you who’s in charge.”

Your breath caught as he leaned over you, his hooked nose brushing against your cheek as he inhaled deeply, his lips grazing your ear. “Daddy’s been far too patient with you, hasn’t he?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “Letting you push, letting you tease. But that ends now.”

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper as you replied, “Yes, Daddy.” The words sent a thrill through you, your body already trembling with anticipation as his large hands slid down your sides, exploring every curve as though staking his claim.

Frank chuckled softly, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down slowly, deliberately, his gaze never leaving yours. “Such a pretty little thing,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Always so eager for me.”

As he knelt between your legs, his hands gripped your thighs firmly, spreading you wide beneath him. His eyes roamed over you, taking in every inch, every detail, his expression filled with dark appreciation. “Look at you,” he said, his voice a low growl. “So perfect, so needy. All mine.”

You moaned softly as his fingers brushed over your sensitive folds, teasing you, making you squirm beneath his touch. “Please, Daddy,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. “I need you.”

He smirked, his thumb pressing lightly against your clit, drawing a gasp from your lips as he leaned in closer. “You need me, do you?” he murmured, his voice dripping with dark amusement. “Then show me how much, baby girl. Beg for it.”

Your cheeks flushed, but the words spilled from your lips without hesitation. “Please, Daddy. Please touch me. I need you inside me. I can’t take it anymore.”

Frank’s hazel eyes darkened with satisfaction as he slid a finger inside you, his movements slow and deliberate, drawing out every gasp and whimper as he explored you. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice a soft growl. “So wet for me. So ready.”

His finger moved with practiced precision, each curl and stroke sending waves of pleasure through you, but he didn’t let you get too close, pulling back just as your hips bucked against him. “Not yet, baby girl,” he said, his voice firm but teasing. “You don’t get to cum until I say so.”

You whimpered, your body aching with need as he withdrew his hand, his fingers glistening with your arousal. He brought them to his lips, tasting you with a low hum of approval before leaning down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. The taste of yourself on him only fueled your desire, and you reached out, your hands gripping his shirt as you pulled him closer.

Frank pulled back just enough to smirk down at you, his hooked nose casting shadows over his flushed face. “Impatient little thing, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. “Don’t worry, baby girl. Daddy’s going to take care of you.”

He undressed slowly, his white hair catching the soft light of the room as he bared himself to you, his chubby frame exuding strength and authority. When he finally settled over you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, you felt a sense of safety and anticipation all at once.

Frank reached between you, guiding himself to your entrance, his hazel eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “Ready, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice softer now, a hint of tenderness breaking through his commanding tone.

“Yes, Daddy,” you whispered, your legs wrapping around his waist as you pulled him closer. “Please… I need you.”

With a low groan, Frank pushed inside you, his movements slow and deliberate, letting you feel every inch of him as he filled you completely. “Fuck, baby girl,” he muttered, his voice rough with desire. “You feel so good… so tight.”

You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move, his thrusts deep and measured, each one igniting sparks of pleasure that made your body arch against him. “That’s it,” he murmured, his lips brushing over your neck as he found a steady rhythm. “Take me, baby girl. Take all of me.”

His pace quickened, his control slipping as he lost himself in you, his breaths coming in ragged gasps against your ear. “You drive me fucking mad,” he growled, his voice a low rumble. “The way you feel, the way you moan for me… you’re perfect.”

“Daddy…” you whimpered, your body trembling beneath him as you felt yourself nearing the edge, your hips bucking against his as you chased your release. “Please… I’m so close.”

Frank’s hand slid between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and pressing firmly, his movements sending you spiraling over the edge. You cried out, your body tightening around him as your orgasm washed over you, leaving you breathless and trembling in his arms.

The sensation pushed Frank over the edge as well, a low, guttural groan escaping him as he buried himself deep inside you, his release filling you as he shuddered against you. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured, his voice rough and satisfied as he collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms.

As you lay together, his fingers tracing lazy circles over your back, Frank pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice filled with both possessiveness and affection. “Always mine.”

Frank let out a low, contented sigh as he pulled you into his arms, his large hand stroking your back in slow, soothing circles. You nestled closer, feeling the comforting weight of his body beside yours. For a moment, the world felt perfectly still, just the sound of your breaths mingling in the quiet bedroom. But Frank’s discipline always loomed—never letting him linger too long in any state of vulnerability.

He shifted beneath you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before murmuring, “Stay here, sweetheart. I need to clean up.”

You whined softly, clutching at his arm. “But I like you here. Don’t leave yet, Daddy.”

Frank chuckled, the deep timbre of his baritone voice rumbling through you. “I’m not going far,” he assured you, his hazel eyes warm with affection. “Let me take care of you.”

Reluctantly, you let him go, watching as he pulled himself up with a quiet grunt, his slightly chubby frame moving with surprising grace. He disappeared into the bathroom, returning moments later with a damp, warm cloth. You couldn’t help but smile as he knelt beside you, carefully cleaning the evidence of your shared passion from your skin. His touch was tender, almost reverent, as though cherishing every moment of caring for you.

“This side of you,” you murmured, brushing a hand over his hooked nose and down to his cheek. “So in charge, yet so soft. I love it.”

He smirked, his lips curling in that way that always made your heart flutter. “I take care of what’s mine,” he said simply, his baritone voice steady and assured. “Always.”

Once he was satisfied, he tucked you back under the covers, pressing a kiss to your temple before pulling on his pants. Your brows knit together as you watched him. “Where are you going?” you asked, your voice tinged with concern.

Frank reached for his shirt, his expression calm but resolute. “I left my gun downstairs,” he stated matter-of-factly, already buttoning his pants. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

You frowned, sitting up in bed. “Frank, can’t it wait? Come back to bed with me. The house is secure—nothing’s going to happen.”

He paused, turning to face you, his hazel eyes softening just a fraction. “Sweetheart,” he began, his voice gentle but firm, “I know you feel safe here, and that’s good. But it’s my job to make sure you stay safe. Always. I don’t leave my weapon out of reach—ever.”

You pouted, crossing your arms. “You’re too careful sometimes.”

“And that’s why you’re here, safe and sound,” he countered, his hooked nose flaring slightly as he exhaled. “Discipline, love. A military man never lets his guard down. Even in a quiet neighborhood like this, security is everything.”

As he headed for the bedroom door, you called after him, your voice laced with playful defiance. “You’re ridiculous. Who walks around their own house with a gun at night?”

Frank paused, looking over his shoulder with a knowing smirk. “A man who loves his girl and wants her to sleep soundly. That’s who.” His tone softened as he added, “I’ll check the doors and windows while I’m at it. Be right back, baby girl.”

You sighed, sinking back into the pillows, a mix of exasperation and admiration coursing through you. Frank’s protectiveness was frustrating at times, but it was also one of the reasons you felt so loved, so cherished.

Downstairs, you could hear his deliberate footsteps moving through the house. You imagined him walking from room to room, his sharp hazel eyes scanning every lock, every latch, his hand brushing over the cool metal of his gun as he ensured everything was secure. The thought of him taking his role as protector so seriously sent a warmth spreading through your chest.

When he returned, his broad shoulders silhouetted in the doorway, you couldn’t help but smile. “All clear, Lieutenant General?” you teased, your tone light but affectionate.

He set his gun on the bedside table, his gaze softening as he climbed back into bed beside you. “All clear,” he confirmed, pulling you into his arms once more. “Now, where were we?”

You nestled against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “You’re impossible,” you murmured, your words muffled against his skin.

“And you wouldn’t have me any other way,” he replied, his voice a low rumble as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

You sighed contentedly, letting his warmth and strength surround you, feeling safer than ever in the arms of the man who would do anything to protect you.

[doumadono]

Hiiiii! I am squeezing into your inbox to

1. Congratulate you on your achievement. You deserved it sweetheart and I am so happy for you (maybe even a lil jealous! Hihi). Keep up the wonderful work and keep bringing joy and comfort to other people!

2. To request something!

I want some Vanilla-Mango ice creams in a cup with Maple syrup.

All of this for my one and only bunny Mirko! 🐇🤍I love ya girl!

Stay awesome!

A/N: thank you so much, honeypot! Your support means everything. I hope you'll like this short piece, and please forgive me if the character isn't quite right — it's my first time writing for Bunny Hero Mirko! ♥

MY HERO ACADEMIA

The afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the city, painting the buildings with shades of gold and amber. You were walking through the park, lost in thought, when you spotted Mirko sitting on a bench, her prosthetic leg resting beside her. Her expression was distant, her eyes fixed on something far away.

Approaching her, you noticed the faint lines of pain etched on her face. You knew about her recent struggles with phantom pains, the cruel reminders of the limbs she had lost during the war. "Hey, Mirko," you greeted softly, taking a seat beside her.

She glanced at you, offering a small, weary smile. "Hey, Y/N," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of exhaustion.

"Is everything alright?" you inquired, concern coloring your words as you noticed the faint lines of strain etched upon her face.

Mirko sighed, her gaze returning to the horizon. "Just another rough day, I guess," she admitted, her fingers tracing the contours of her prosthetic leg. "The phantom pains have been acting up again."

You reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Rumi. That sounds really tough."

She looked at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. "It is," she admitted. "It's like… I can still feel them, you know? My missing arm and leg. Sometimes, it's like they're still there, and it hurts so much…"

You squeezed her shoulder gently, offering your support. "I can't even begin to imagine how hard that must be for you. But I'm here for you, okay? You're not alone. You never were, sweetie."

Mirko's eyes softened, and she leaned into your touch, finding solace in your presence. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

You hurried to a nearby store to grab two bottles of water and some mochi. When you returned, you paused behind a large tree, watching Mirko.

She was someone you deeply admired, one of the few people who truly inspired you. Her toughness was unmatched, and secretly, you yearned to possess even a fraction of her spirit, to be as brave as she was. She was your role model.

You spent the rest of the afternoon with Mirko, talking, laughing, and sharing stories, sitting on that bench. You listened as she opened up about her fears and insecurities, her dreams and aspirations. And through it all, you were there for her, offering words of encouragement and comfort.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the park, Mirko turned to you, her eyes shining with gratitude. "You know," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "even on my darkest days, knowing that I have you by my side makes everything a little bit brighter."

You smiled, feeling your heart swell with warmth. "And you make everything brighter for me too, Mirko. You're strong, resilient, and incredibly brave. I admire you so much."

Mirko's smile widened, and she reached out, taking your hand in hers. "Thank you," she said softly. "That means the world to me. After Jaku and the war, things really shifted," she said, her brow creasing slightly. "It's not like it broke me, but I've been feeling more uncertain. About everything, really. Even my own abilities."

You met Mirko's gaze with a gentle smile. "Rumi," you began softly, squeezing her hand in reassurance, "you have no idea how many lives you've touched with your bravery. In the chaos of Jaku and the war, you were a beacon of hope for so many. Every leap you took, every punch you threw, they weren't just acts of courage — they were beacons of light in the darkness for all those who lost their hope. You saved countless lives with your unwavering determination and your indomitable spirit. Never doubt your abilities, my dear Rabbit Hero Mirko," you urged gently, your words a steadfast anchor amidst the uncertainty. "You are a hero in every sense of the word, and the world is a brighter place because of you. The echoes of your courage will never fade."

Mirko leaned into you, resting her head on your shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice tinged with emotion. "I think that's exactly what I needed to hear today."

[djbunnie]

reddit inspired AU DamiRae

Rachel (19) was in a relationship with her high school sweetheart, Garfield (19). They had been dating since their sophomore year, a total of five years. After graduating high school, they moved to the big city, shared an apartment, and Rachel began pursuing a degree in Finance. Fortunately, she had a scholarship, and her parents covered her tuition, but she still needed a job to cover rent, utilities, and other expenses.

Rachel paid for everything without complaint, willing to make that sacrifice for her boyfriend.Garfield, he on the other hand, was pursuing his dream of becoming a DJ and influencer. While he did some work, it consisted mainly of small jobs like dj school dances and other small events. 

Things seemed normal until Garfield decided to have a serious talk with Rachel. During their conversation, he dropped a bombshell on her.

Garfield wanted them to have an open relationship, meaning they would both be free to date other people while still being together.

The idea completely shocked Rachel. From the beginning of their relationship, Rachel had been the "loser" while Garfield was the "popular" and the "it Boy." Like any other kid in school, she had longed to be accepted and have some like Garfield by her side. Imagine her luck when she experienced a growth spurt over the summer and developed a curvaceous figure. By her second year of high school, she had transformed from "loser" to "pretty girl." Rachel underwent an incredible glow up but remained quiet and timid. Garfield noticed her newfound popularity and began dating her.

Rachel was overjoyed.

She believed they were exclusive: just the two of them, committed only to each other. That was her understanding and expectation, especially since they had moved to the big city and were living together.

When he suggested changing this fundamental aspect of their relationship, Rachel initially refused, but eventually Garfield pressured her into agreeing. 

Rachel tried to convince herself that this new arrangement was acceptable and normal, and that she was truly okay with it.

Of course, they established some ground rules:

They needed to text each other beforehand about the time and location of their dates to avoid scheduling conflicts.

They would not discuss other partners with each other.

They were not allowed to bring other partners to their apartment.

And so on.

For the first four months of this polyamorous arrangement, Rachel was unhappy. It hurt to see Garfield seeing other women, as he had dates almost every day. Feeling neglected and alone, she couldn't complain because she had agreed to the terms and didn't want to appear controlling.

After four months, she decided to go out. She went to a bar and met Damian (19). They hit it off immediately, and she told him about her open relationship with her boyfriend, asking if he was comfortable with it. Damian agreed, explaining that he had recently ended a bad long-term relationship and wanted to enjoy his youth.

After a couple of dates, Rachel and  Damian really hit it off. They were constantly calling and texting each other. Whenever Rachel was with her friends, she couldn't help but talk about Damian. Every time she said Damian's name, she smiled. Damian was always on her mind, and she looked forward to their dates.

There were times when she completely forgot about Garfield.

Rachel: "Great news! Damian is ahead of his classes. He called me last night, excited because he's on track to graduate a year early!"

Donna: "That's awesome, Rae! Any plans to celebrate?"

Rachel: "Yeah! you won't believe my luck. I was able to get a reservation at that nice Italian restaurant. Someone had to cancel their reservation last minute, and it was available the day I called."

Donna: "Nice!"

Donna: takes a sip of beer "By the way, how's Garfield doing?"

Rachel: "Who? Oh! Yeah, um... he's doing okay, I guess."

At this point, Garfield was rarely home because he was constantly out with other women. Their relationship had grown increasingly distant, to the point where Rachel saw him as nothing more than a roommate—and a freeloader since he wasn't contributing financially.

Rachel stopped planning dates and buying Garfield gifts. she ceased calling and texting him, and he didn't notice because he was preoccupied with his other relationships.

Damian and Rachel were at his place, both slightly intoxicated. Sexual tension filled the air as they made out on the couch. The atmosphere heated up, and Damian began kissing her neck. 

Rachel moaned as she grind against his crotch.

Damian: feeling cocky “bet your boyfriend doesn't make you feel this good”

Rachel: "Who?"

Damian pulled away, halting their intimacy.

Damian: "Your boyfriend...Garfield? Did you forget about him?"

Rachel: "Oh! Yeah, um... I'm sorry..."

Damian: "Rachel, is everything okay?"

Rachel wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or her trust in Damian that made her so vulnerable. she confessed everything to him: how Garfield had pressured her into an open relationship and how lonely and neglected she felt. At that moment, Rachel realized she no longer had romantic feelings for Garfield. And without intending to, she confessed her feelings for Damian.

Rachel: "Oh shit! I'm sor-"

Damian: "I love you too Beloved."

Both were shocked. Rachel was overjoyed to hear him say that. He leaned in to kiss her, but she stopped him.

Rachel: "Dami, wait!"

Rachel: "Don't get the wrong idea. I'm so happy we confirmed our feelings for each other, but I want to be in a monogamous relationship."

Damian: "Me too!"

Rachel: "Great! Before we take this further and make it official, I need to break up with Garfield first."

So no physical intimacy between Rachel and Damian... yet.

On the drive home, Rachel received a text from Garfield reminding her that he was leaving for a gig tomorrow and wouldn't be back for two weeks. Seeing this as an opportunity, Rachel decided to make her move. she acted normally until Garfield left the next morning. Rachel called her best friend, Donna, and other college friends to help her pack and move into Donna's place. After moving all her belongings, Rachel texted Garfield that they should break up, informed him that she was no longer on the lease, and sent him this month's rent money via Venmo. She told him not to contact her and blocked him on everything before starting a relationship with Damian.

When Garfield returned from the gig, he bombarded Rachel with texts, calls, voicemails, and other messages. He was distraught, begging her to reconsider and claiming that opening their relationship had been a huge mistake. He confessed that the women she had dated only wanted sex and never truly loved him. He realized that Rachal was the one who truly loved him and admitted he was foolish for letting her go. He pleaded for another chance, unaware of her relationship with Damian. (plus Rachel was paying for everything, he didn't have any money) 

The first few months were chaotic, with Garfield becoming increasingly unhinged. Fortunately, law enforcement wasn't involved, and eventually, Garfield gave up and moved on. (maybe Damian was the reason why and didn't tell Rachel about it lol) However, Garfield continued to try to contact Rachal for another chance every year, but she never responded.

Rachal graduated and began working for Wayne Enterprises Finance Department.  Damian became CEO and proposed to Rachel, she said yes. They started a beautiful life together, living in the Wayne Manor with 6 children. 🥰🥰🥰

[whispering-ways]

•☆ミ rain check ☆彡•

♡ summary: you and luffy have a date planned out for the evening, but after a tiring day and a shift in weather, plans change for the better.

♡ pairing: luffy x reader (established relationship)

♡ tags: no warnings, just fluff :)

♡ notes: i'm sorry for taking so long to write a new fic guys! it's my last semester for my bachelor's degree so i've been swamped with grad applications and work for my senior classes. thanks for being patient and i hope you guys like it <3

You were adding the final touches to your makeup when you heard Luffy enter your apartment, his heavy footsteps letting you know he’d come home.

“Y/N?” he called out. “You here?”

“Yeah I’m just getting myself ready in the bedroom,” you respond. He enters and flops down on the bed, looking completely exhausted. “Had a rough day, babe?”

You get only an exasperated sigh in response, which tells you all you need to know. You walked over to the closet, pulling out some heels that you hoped would go well with your outfit.

“You look so pretty. I can’t wait to take you out! It's gonna be awesome! Are you excited for our date?” Luffy asks, beaming at you and turning his head to the side to see you better.

You paused. To be completely honest, it had been a tiring day for you as well and you were truly worn out. You had spent hours conducting tests and repairing lab equipment, leaving you craving nothing more than to unwind.

However, both you and Luffy had been looking forward to this date for months; he was thrilled when you proposed the idea. It didn't feel right to call it off just because you were tired. Besides, you loved spending time with him so you didn’t mind going out even though you were a little beat.

“Yeah, of course, I’m excited! Plus it gives me a reason to get all dolled up for you and you know how I love doing that,” you reply with a soft smile.

With a grunt, Luffy hoisted himself out of bed, shuffling over to you. He envelops you in a hug, resting his head against your neck and kissing just below your ear. You chuckle at the sensation, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before ruffling his hair. “Isn’t it time for someone to start getting ready?” you ask with a smirk.

He let out a deep sigh as he lifted himself off of your shoulder. "Yeah, you're right, babe. Let me just hurry up and get ready. Just give me like 15 minutes, okay?" He said with a cheerful smile, looking down at you lovingly. You press a soft kiss to his lips and head over to the living room to give him some time to get dressed.

You head over to the living room, sinking into the couch as you scroll through your phone while waiting for Luffy. The clunking of his heavy footsteps breaks the silent atmosphere of the room as you send him random videos here and there. However, it didn't take long for that to bore you, so you decided to stretch out to relax.

When a few raindrops began to fall outside of the window, your neck craned up to glance at the dampening window. You mumbled to yourself, "This is the worst time for rain. I'm too tired to get all soaked in the rain."

When Luffy finally finishes getting ready, he steps out into the living room and takes a seat next to you on the couch. "Ready to go sweetheart?" he asks with a grin.

You let out a dramatic sigh as you pull yourself off of the couch to sit upright. Luffy chuckles as he draws you in close, settling into a comfortable silence. You lay your head on his shoulder, finding comfort in his embrace.

Despite being excited to plan the date and enjoying getting dolled up, something about today was just too draining. Hope filled your heart that Luffy would sense something was wrong, but knowing his oblivious nature, you knew that you’d probably have to spell it out for him.

Luffy kissed the top of your head and looked towards the window. Although it’d barely been a couple minutes, the rain seemed to have grown more intense, now leaning towards a heavy storm. "Hey," he inquired, turning his attention back towards your face. "It's raining pretty hard outside, isn't it?"

You rose up, turning to look towards the window as well. You perk up, looking at how bad the rain’s gotten. “Maybe we really will be staying at home,” you thought to yourself as you turned towards Luffy, speaking aloud to him now. "Yeah, the rain is really heavy, isn't it?" You continue with a shrug, adding, "I wonder if our umbrellas will be able to withstand the harsh weather."

Luffy looks at you, noticing the hopeful gaze in your eyes and the way you had now nestled closely to him. He understood precisely what that meant. "Hey," he said, gently resting a hand on your shoulder. "I know we've planned this date out, but do you want to do a rain check? Maybe we should just stay in tonight instead."

You light up like a Christmas tree, but try your best to cover your excitement. “Yeah sure, can we cuddle up and watch a movie or something instead?”

A soft and knowing smile spreads across Luffy’s face as he speaks to you. "Of course babe," he replies, reassuringly. "Just get all cozy in bed, and I'll make some snacks for us. Okay?" His gentle and caring way of speaking makes your heart melt with butterflies, and your face cannot help but break into a grin.

You nod excitedly, rushing to the bedroom to get comfortable. Without hesitation, you change into sweatpants and a t-shirt and then dive back into bed, wrapping yourself tightly in your warmest blankets.

Luffy heads to the kitchen and reaches into the fridge, fetching a box of frozen jalapeno poppers. He tosses a few pieces into the air fryer, then leans against the counter and waits for the familiar chime of the machine to go off. Somewhere in him, Luffy knew that the evening might conclude like this. After dating you for over a year, he knew you like the back of his hand.

When he checked the morning forecast and saw that it was going to rain, he knew that you would want to snuggle up together. Every time it rained, you'd always snuggle up like a cat with your blanket and look for something to unwind so seeing you so excited to relax together was no surprise to him.

However, he also knew that you wouldn't bring it up because you didn't want to disappoint him by canceling the date. But at the end of the day, Luffy didn’t care whether you went out or not; he was just happy that he got to spend time with his favorite person. And to be honest, he was pretty exhausted himself.

The chime of the fryer brings Luffy out of his thoughts. He takes a plate and adds the poppers, along with some ketchup and a few of your preferred spicy chips, before heading into the bedroom.

Your face brightens as soon as you spot Luffy walking in with a plate of food. The movie was already playing when he climbed into bed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him. Enveloped by his warmth, you snuggled closer to him, laying your head on his chest.

You were in pure bliss, with Luffy's body warmth and the softest blankets keeping you perfectly snug. You turned over, grabbing your laptop and gently placing it in between you two along with the plate full of snacks.

After a couple moments of looking through options, you both settled on the latest Puss in Boots movie. You had both come across a few ads about it and talked about watching it, so you and Luffy decided to give it a shot.

A few minutes in showed that it was a good decision. Glancing over at Luffy, you noticed his focused expression as he watched the screen with brows. You turned back to look at the movie, but the only thing you could concentrate on is how happy you were that it started raining.

[fir3ylolol]

Hiii!!

I was inspired by your "Sleeping in Seattle" idea and I totally thought about Johnny with a screenwriter SO. If you could write like a small thing (or a biggish sorta thing 🥺🫶) on it, I'd love to read it and eat it and hold it. Honestly I'm only thinking of him all but dragging the reader onto the set to help with the script and screenplays and such.

Anyway, I love your writing!!!! Thank you for reading this.

- Ronny

sunset boulevard

pairing: Johnny Cage x Screenwriter!Reader

summary: johnny drags you onto set with him, but not without ulterior motives

a/n: thought this would be a cute little fluff-y piece, tried to stay brief with it. but thank u ronny!

word count: 587

Ao3

Johnny is practically pulling you onto the lot, a wide smile plastered across his face. Your feet are dragging, trying to wave to the people you’re rapidly passing. He stops next to the craft table, grabbing water for both of you. You follow him as he makes his rounds, his usual charisma on display as he introduces you to everyone with a wide smile and plenty of praise. He seems proud just to stand next to you, holding you tight as he watches you talk to the director. It’s not like you’re unknown, it’s just that you’re not very social. Well, not as social as him. But talking only lasts so long, as it’s time to film again. This scene doesn’t need Johnny, as he stays next to you. But you can see his eyes lighting up, truly thrilled to be able to watch such incredible performances. You feel him leaning closer to you, whispering in your ear as softly as he can, “What do you think?” You nod, giving a small thumbs up. But he whispers again, trying to lead you to what he really wants, “What about the story? You know, from your professional opinion.” 

You scrunch your face up slightly, making a so-so motion with your hands. You can see the famous twinkle in his eyes, and you suddenly start to get worried. Which was the right feeling, as the second the scene is over, you’re gone, being pulled around again. You nearly crash into him, and he suddenly stops as he reaches his trailer, looking back at you happily. “Wait here!” He rushes inside, quickly returning with a large heavy script. “Here you go,” he nearly shoves it in your arms, the weight causing you to shift slightly. “You should give it a look,” he winks at you, arm wrapping around your shoulders. “Jonathan Carlton…” you look up at him, scolding tone. He puts his hands up, smile only growing wider. “Uh oh, the full name? I’m in trouble now. Sweetheart, I just think you’re absolutely brilliant. And I know that if you worked on this, it would go from cool to face-melting-ly awesome!”

His enthusiasm is intoxicating, and you find yourself nodding in agreement. He almost squeals, jumping towards you to plant a kiss on your cheek before pushing you into the trailer. He sits you down at the vanity, placing a pen down so you can edit. You wait for him to sit, but he stays standing above you, watching you intently. Knowing him, that won’t change soon. So you write, slashing words and rephrasing lines so it sounded like an actual person was saying them. Johnny chimes in occasionally, always in agreement with your changes. He almost cheers as you cut one specific line, loudly proclaiming, “I knew that line sucked! It always sounded so blocky and weird! Ugh, honey, you’re a genius.” You finally finish your work, letting out a sigh as you close the script. But it remained there for only a second later, as Johnny snatched it up, already in the doorway. “Wait here, ok? I’m gonna go give this to the director and tell him that you improved his movie tenfold. And when I get back, we’re talking salary, ok? Such beautiful prose deserves compensation.” He pauses shortly, smiling at you with pure joy, before leaving with a cry of, “I love you!” He’s gone, and you can hear him yelling excitedly as he goes, screaming out, “I told you it was a shit line, man!”

[ccrites]

i've been thinking of getting a tattoo for a long time, not only because i want to, but also to cover an old stick'n'poke i got when i was 15.

and so it got me thinking of the 141 tattoo artist!au. and oh boy.

Kyle would be an absolute sweetheart. not judging the stupid decisions a teenager made. more like "you wanted a tattoo and you went out of your way to get it, that's awesome. now how about we enhance it instead of covering it, whaddya think pretty girl?" and he'd draw around it, incorporate it into his art, go over the parts that are faded and uneven, then, when he's finished, wipe it gently and go "there, what should've been your first real tattoo" with his blinding smile and a promise to also be the one to do your next one

Johnny would be excited about finding creative ways to make parts of the stick'n'poke incorporate into other elements, make it so you'd never know it was there. but he's also a bit of a freak! making sort of mean comments about, "such a stupid decision, you were but a wee lass and ye didn't know what you wanted! thank god Johnny's here ta' fix ya'". It doesn't help that the tattoo you got was somewhere hidden, somewhere your parents wouldn't see on summer vacation (think where your underwear would cover it, or under your bra straps!) and he'd be such a creep! Sitting closer than absolutely necessary, looking at you too intensely. At the end, he'd suggest a truly hidden tattoo, "Only for me to see, bun, whaddya say?"

Ghost would be the type to frown behind the mask and look at you meanly, and you're afraid that he'd judge you for doing this kind of thing (you had your reasons, okay? some rough period in your life, you needed catharsis, and you were too young to get a real tattoo) and he'd be really condescending, all "there's a reasons youngins can't get them. Cuz' it's a stupid decision to make." and he'd huff and draw the most exquisite art you'd seen, all black, bold lines, and way, way bigger than necessary to cover the small tattoo. If the tattoo was on your hip, he'd extend it from your waist all the way down to your knee, make it flow with your curves, accentuate the stretch marks, and you can't say no because you absolutely adore the style. if the tattoo was on your ribs (bra straps, remember?" he'd extend it under your tits, bring it back over the clavicle, make it to be seen. and the pain. oh the pain. "you said you wanted catharsis, right?"

John would absolutely be on Ghost's side, with "there's a reason they don't let kids get tattoos" and you hear the underlying what a fucking mistake, and you see how he judges you... it makes you want to get it from him the most. Until you get to the consultation, and he tells you to get it lasered off first. But it's so faded, it should be easy to cover, no? you argue. he won't budge. So you get the expensive laser. it sorta hurts mentally, because you got it done with your best friend, and you always assumed you'd keep it there, underneath another layer of ink, where only you would remember it. It takes a few sessions, but then the skin is clean, a blank canvas for John to paint on. and paint he does. it's the most gorgeous piece you could ever imagine, you can see the inspiration Ghost draws from him, all bold shapes that flow into each other and compliment your body. Your skin is raw and pink when he's done, and you get up to admire the work... until you get a closer look in the mirror. you know exactly where the old tattoo would've been, and you'd expected to not be able to place it, under the new art. in its stead, two letters, black, bold, beautifully intertwined.... J.P. ... He'd put his lips next to your ear as you stand in shocked silence. "You're my canvas now."

[frightenedcricket]

Folio didn't want to worry anyone, specially you...

But you are quick catching him.

"Hey, is your neck okay?"

As soon as he is off the stage you can see how he keeps pressing his hand to the tattooed side of his neck. Then, instead of turning his head to talk to people, he moves his whole body. He is stiff and sudden moves made him frown. But he doesn't say a thing until you talk to him.

"Yes" He smiles at you, he doesn't want to worry anyone.

"Folio"

With a big sigh he touches it, pinching a point with his fingers.

"I think I slept a bit awkward on the plane. But don't worry"

You do. Your job is worrying about them.

"Nah, doesn't work on me" You smile and he rolls his eyes playfully.

Folio never said anything, but he has a huge crush on you

"I'll bring you something, okay?"

"Hey, no"

But it's too late and he can't really fight you, can he?

You are back with pain killers and some ice.

"No ice please... They will worry"

With a sympathetic smile, you agree.

"Okay"

It's a surprise when you knock at his door later. You are shy and hugging something close to your chest. He looks awfully comfy with his hoodie and shorts.

"Hey, all good?"

"Yes. I have this, it's a pad full of sheeds. It's good for muscular pain, period cramps, when the central heating breaks and you are awefully cold in bed... I thought you could use it for your neck"

He smiles softly. He was trying to sleep but the pain is getting worst.

"I also grabbed some lotion. Australia is weird, they don't have the one I usually get"

"Sweetheart... You didn't have to"

"I do, I want to" You smile. "Plus, you have to tell me what is going on with your neck because we can't have you injured now that we are back"

With a sigh he let's you in. He doesn't mean to scare you or anything, but he takes his hoodie off. You get flustered but then he groans a bit and you remember you are here to help him.

"Does it hurt that much?"

"Yeah"

"I'm not a physio so I'm not giving you a massage, but they said this would soothe the pain and you should use it before the shows to help with the tension"

Nick sits coss-legged while you put the lotion on his neck. The silence is comfortable, you enjoy eachother company. You try to not invade him much but it's hard when he points at the places that hurt. It's the side of his neck and shoulder, but also a bit of his back. His tattoos are awesome and you give yourself a minute to admire them.

"Was it really the plane?" You speak soft and so does he.

"Yes. But it got worst rehearsing yesterday"

"How bad?"

"Uh... It got pretty bad during the show"

"Folio... You have to tell us this stuff."

"I don't want to worry anyone or miss a show."

"You will if this gets worst"

"You are here helping me, it won't" He adds with a cheeky smile.

"Shut up, flirt"

He laughs loudly.

"Thank you, though"

You smile. "Now the bag"

"Can't I just sleep? I'm exhausted and I don't know if I'll be able to keep it in place? I'm falling asleep right know"

You laugh a bit and shake your head. Folio thinks you are unbelievable pretty.

"Five minutes?"

You sit together to watch something on the TV, your excuse is that you don't trust him and have to keep an eye on him. But after five minutes, he is truly falling asleep and the bag keeps falling from his neck.

It's organic, he doest resist and you know exactly what to do, as if you had done this a thousand times before. But you haven't. It's knew and your heart flutters. Your gentle hands pull him close and Nick lays his head on your chest. Your frap your arms around him and he hugs your waist. One of your hands plays with his soft hair, falling everywhere as he has just showered and is not slicked back as usually. Nick sighs when your keep the bag on his tense neck and closes his eyes.

"Don't leave tonight, okay?"

You smile and butterflies explode in your chest. He is warm and close and you like him so much.

"I promise"

[aurelia1uvscats]

🎄 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐫 | Gojo Satoru

word count: 0.4k

warnings: highly suggestive (mdi!!), fem reader, crack

[notes]: merry christmas everyone hope you all have an awesome day!! I’ve been thinking about santa gojo for days send help so i made this small drabble

"Satoru, you did not." You look at the man in front of you; he’s wearing one of those sexy Santa costumes (full authentic beard as well), and he’s completely shirtless, his abs fully on display, totally not distracting you or drifting your thoughts elsewhere. You face palm at his ridiculousness.

“Did I make you nervous? Don’t be so dirty (Y/N)!”

“You’re literally fucking shirtless; the hell do you expect me to do?” You tell him trying your best not to even glance at his sixpack.

“You’ve massacred Santa clause for me, horny fuck.”

“I mean, something has to get you into the holiday spirit, sweetheart.” He approaches you on the couch, lifting your chin up to face him. He notices your flusteredness and smirks. “And I can tell it’s working perfectly.” He presses his thumb slightly on your lip.

You pause, gathering the sanity you have, and proceed to throw the couch pillows at him, and he dodges them effortlessly while laughing. Whenever he was around you, he let his technique down.

“Now is not the time for this. We need to deliver the gifts before Tsumiki and Megumi wake up.”

“After I put all of this effort in this costume for you?!”

“You’re so mean, (Y/N)” He crosses his hands and looks away, pouting like the manchild he is. You sigh; you go to him and look into his eyes. You pull on his beard and kiss him, slowly swallowing his grunt in the process. He holds your shoulders to stabilize himself from the sudden kiss. You pull away almost out of breath, and he gives you a look engraved fully in lust.

“When we finish with kids, I’ll make sure to reward you.”

“Only IF you stop acting like a man child.”

“Yes ma’am!” He agrees fast.

“Though rewarding me wont necessarily put you on the nice list…” He added

“Hmmm really? That’s tragic, naughty list it is then.” You smile giving him a wink.

“Now, put the damn shirt on.”

“Okay, okay.” He leaves the room to go find his shirt while you try gathering up the gifts. You have a weird sensation in your mouth and try to find out what was bothering you. Then you look, and it was a white strand from that beard Satoru had on... This man would truly be the death of you, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[notroosterbradshaw]

slow dancing in a burning room - two

word count: 5.3k

warnings: nsfw 18+, language, smut, fluff.

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

a/n: thanks to those who read, reblogged and commented on previous chapters. you’re doing god’s work. I know this series is a bit different to what you’re used to from me, so I hope you keep reading. I truly appreciate all the effort you make to show your support x

one.

Your phone started ringing just after you’d showered and your last lesson of the morning session. Wrapped in a towel and shivering, you saw Bradley’s smiling face as the phone vibrated. “Hey,” you answered. “This is an early call, sweetheart, what’s happening?” you asked, hoping the demand didn’t sound as deliberate as it felt. “Everything okay?”

“We’re at the beach, come join us!”

“You’re at the – ” You frowned, checking your watch. No, it wasn’t playing games on you. “It’s the middle of the day, Bradley.”

“I know,” he laughed. “Mav has us down here doing something he’s calling  ‘defensive football’. It’s kinda crazy but… kind of fun,” you could hear him cover the receiver and muffle something back. “Natasha said you have no excuses and to get down here.”

You giggled quietly, heart exploding with his joy. It sounded so good to hear him so positive and happy. “Well, I just showered. Lemme go home and get some stuff, okay?”

“Awesome. Can’t wait to see you, love. Can you wear that…” he paused and whispered. “Can you wear that white swimsuit?”

You laughed, covering your face. “Bradley, no – ” That was strictly for his eyes only.

“C’mon, please? Just for me?” he grovelled. “I wanna show you off.”

Blood flushing through your system as you roasted with embarrassment, how could you say no? “Lemme see what I can find.”

“You’re amazing. I’ll see you soon. I’m getting called back.”

“You’re so fuckin’ whipped, Bradshaw!” you heard someone screech past as you laughed.

“You are so fuckin’ whipped, Bradshaw,” you mocked. But you were allowed to. He was in love with you.

He huffed a laugh. “You’re evil. I love it. See you soon.”

“Okay, see you soon,” you replied, your grin so wide and you so happy for him. You were excited to go see him in his element, having fun with his friends, laughing, joking.

You found yourself at the beach about an hour later, spotting Bradley and his squad thunder across the sand and shoreline, golden brawny shoulders covered in sunburn and sand, running in circles they his team tossed, tackled and laughed jovially. Bradley and Javy looked absolutely ridiculous in their jean shorts (what?!), and a few of the pilots were in full-length jeans. They could only have been so uncomfortable. All were far too competitive for their own good. Your eyes fell on Mav, and gosh… it had been so long. You didn’t want to go over and say hi, knowing how tentative things were with Bradley. 

Moments had to be picked precariously these days.

“Hey,” Penny smiled as you dropped your towel on the sand a while away, not wanting to interrupt them. You wandered up to chat with her, the joy of small business accounting fresh before her, calculator, pen and pad scribbling and furiously making notes. “Haven’t seen you around in a while. Let me guess, too busy playin’ house with Rooster and forgetting the rest of the world?” she teased lightly.

You laughed quietly, toe-thumbing the warm sand but it was hard to argue – you had been spending an inordinate amount of time shutting off the rest of the world together. And while you loved your friends, getting lost with Bradley Bradshaw had forever written all over it. “Something like that,” you admitted.

“Your mom was talking about you guys moving in together! That’s a big step.”

“Yeah,” you said bashfully. “Bradley got the keys to his parent's place so we’re gonna give that a go,” you tried to downplay it.

“The one on the beach? That is just lovely for you both.”

“Still lots to do – I mean, he will be away and I have work but he wants to try and do as much as he can.” The thought of Bradley Bradshaw: handyman had crossed your mind once or twice since you’d decided to move in together.

“That is the sweetest thing,” she teased gently as a football plopped at your feet. “Incoming.”

Placing your foot on the sandy leather, a low growl met you as Bradley’s hands wrapped around it and then surrounded you a moment later. “Hey, Penny,” he said, gently pressing a kiss into your temple. “Here’s my sweet girl.”

“Who’s winning, Rooster?” Penny dared ask.

“Uh, not too sure,” Bradley admitted, his sandy palm sneaking under your white linen shirt and resting on your hip. “We kinda lost count, I think.”

“How many times have you tackled Hangman?” you murmured as he chuckled darkly.

“Definitely lost count,” he said, that hint of arrogance seeping through.

“You two are really so sweet,” Penny said. “I can see why your mom is so excited by this,” she pointed between you as Bradley tenderly kissed your hair and you wrapped your arms around Bradley’s strong waist. You heard his small moan made only for your ears.

“This is really special, you two,” she admitted, as she looked beyond you and nodded towards… Mav.

“So strange to see him back here,” you admitted. “Haven’t seen him since I was a teenager.”

Bradley hummed, you weren’t sure if Penny picked up the clipped shortness in his tone, but you sure did as he whispered he’d be back soon. Remembering Carole’s mantra, ‘if you’ve got nothing nice to say, say nothing at all’, he bit his tongue for Penny’s benefit only.

“We’re not going to talk about the jean shorts?” you called after him.

“They’re jorts!” he retorted, throwing a grin back before dashing back to the game. God, he looked so good, even if he was wearing jorts.

“Oh, that makes it all better…” you muttered to yourself, not sure how the fashion crime still made him look like he’d just walked in PFW as Penny grinned. 

“Oh, girl. He is so in love with you. I have never seen Rooster Bradshaw like this before. Hearts breakin’ all over Miramar today,” Penny teased as you tried to hide your smile, but it was next to impossible as you kept your gaze on him. The way his body moved, his muscles, the gleam of the sun off his tanned skin.

Divine, and all yours. You were mesmerised by him and if everyone could see how in love with you he was, you wondered if you were able to keep it low-key for how you felt for him. You never expected to be so in love, fall for someone like him. He just moved people… but no one knew the way he could move you.

“I’m really happy,” was all you could tell Penny.

“I know, darling heart. I can see that but won’t tell anyone,” she winked. “Go, watch those half-naked aviators show off for a while. I’ll bring some drinks out when they’re done,” she said, collecting her stuff and heading inside the bar and you wandered back to your gear. You carefully took off your shirt and folded it neatly in your beach bag, grabbing your towel and laying it out –

“You’re just pathetic,” Natasha sidled up to Bradley, following his gaze to your form.

“So fuckin’ pathetic,” he agreed as he watched you pedantically flatten out your towel and get to your knees and move to your tummy, eagerly grabbing your book and tossing yourself into it. He didn’t see you read often, he knew that was because probably of him and how he’d imposed in your life these days, but watching you in the sun, completely at ease – Jesus Christ, he was so lucky. Could easily hang his own team out to dry to share his time with you.

You weren’t wearing that swimsuit he quietly pleaded for, but it was fine by him. Your curves, the flashes of skin? You were sexy in his oversized, ratty tees, messy morning hair, and grumpy without your coffee. There was no time you simply weren’t perfect to him… for him.

He chewed his lip, knowing he’d softened in ways he’d never imagined he could. Dropped his walls for the woman who deserved the world and more. He’d changed for the better, and he hoped you would always be proud of him for how he loved you.

Struggling and as hilarious as the bet to wear the jorts was, he felt like he was wearing cement but, in this case, was probably for the best.

“You’re gonna marry her,” Natasha decided, snaking the ball from him in his stupor and dashing off for the other end of the beach, his teammates raising his arms in victorious touchdown fashion. Bradley didn’t even care. 

“Probably,” he agreed, a small smirk quirked at his lip, before adding, “Hopefully.”

Meandering back to your apartment later that evening, Bradley held the bags on one side and your hand in the other, the sun starting to set. He felt good, loose, a few beers in his system, Mav survived another day (even if he’d again fucked Cyclone right off. It wasn’t lost on anyone when the Admiral chased down Mav on the beach in the earlier afternoon) and had to even credit the old man, things between the squad had been tempestuous at best and it had really brought them together.

He'd go to the grave with that.

“You good?” you asked, interrupting his thoughts as he turned to face you, his glasses tangled in his wild, messy curls, a small smile on his face, a dimple threatening to reveal itself.

“Just needed today. I didn’t realise how much,” he confided. “Thanks for coming along.”

“I’m glad you asked, it was fun to see you all unwind even if it was the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen,” you replied as he stopped and dragged you back to him. He dropped the bag at his feet and took your cheeks in his rough palms.

“Love you,” he murmured, laying one of those lazy kisses on your lips. You moaned against his mouth as he giggled quietly. It was just one of those kisses that had the ability to render you stupid and he loved that he had that power over you. His strong palms drifted down your sides and wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer again. “Let me take you home. We shower and then I just make you cum and cum with my tongue until you tell me to stop. Wanna taste you all night, love.”

Giggling against his mouth, you pushed him back lightly. God, he could be so filthy sometimes. You’d never know anyone so confident in making the dirtiest of promises and dutifully fulfilling them until you screamed his name over and over. You’d give him anything he ever wanted. “I love you,” you told him honestly and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to love anyone like this again.

You waited for Bradley impatiently the next night. When you finally heard his bag hitting the floor at the entry and the door closing over quietly, you weren’t surprised when he didn’t mutter a hello before hitting the makeshift liquor shelf. You went to him and surrounded him as he still forced the alcohol down his throat, and he kissed you barely.

“I heard,” you told him as he nodded solemnly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m angry,” he admitted, his raspy tone rough.

“I’m sorry, baby. What can I do for you?” you smoothed your palms down his back, the rage within him radiating off his hot skin through his clothes. “Are Bob and Nat okay?” you asked gently, moving your hands to his chest and pressing your hands into the firm muscle, your eyes desperately searching his unreadable face.

The new theme… every time you thought you’d seen him angry? The next night he’d come home worse. And he hated it, because he knew you were on tenterhooks around him, and it killed him that he couldn’t control his emotions after hours, on your time, when he should be his best self, your best selves together. He would try and take out as much tension as he could on pads at the gym before he came home, but his head couldn’t tune out the rage that each day brought with Maverick… even Hangman was at his fucking worst and nothing made sense.

“They need to stay in overnight for observation,” he said softly as you caressed his torso.

“Okay. That’s the best news we could hope for. I’m glad to hear that.”

He sighed, finally meeting your eyes. “I don’t really wanna talk, baby. I’m sorry.”

“Do you want to be alone?” you asked, dreading his answer as he shook his head.

“I know I’m not great to be around at the moment, but please stay with me?”

“If that’s what you need, sweetheart…” you told him and poured yourself a glass, feeling as empty as the glass appeared. He apologised gently. You poured him another glass too and raised yours. “To Iceman.”

“Ice,” Bradley sighed, taking a warming sip this time. You stayed quiet with him for a long while, the loss of Ice compounding what was already a rough day. “I love you, sweet girl. I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you.”

You gave him a light smile. “I’m not going anywhere, Bradley,” you promised him. “Come here, let me hold you,” you told him softly as he put the glass down and breathed long through his nose. He took you in, his dark eyes starting from your bare feet, your legs to the curve of your waist. His palms moved to rest on your hips, his long fingers pressing into the flesh as he rested his forehead against yours. He melted into you, his strong nose pressed against yours and dragging down past your lips and his forehead slipped into the curve of your shoulder. “Love…”

You knew how much he needed you, he need comfort, he needed shelter, but first, he needed to surrender. He had been on his haunches since Mav walked into his seminar last week and he had barely a moment to unwind since. “I love you,” you pressed your hands into the firm muscles of his back, wound so tight, coils ready to explode. He needed to unleash and lose himself and his mind a little bit.

“I want you,” he admitted.

“Just try and relax, baby,” you begged him quietly.

“I know how to do that. Getting lost with you,” he confided, the tone in his voice light, regarding you.

You reached up to run your fingers through his waves and he pulled back lightly, wetting his lips and carefully dipping to meet yours, and you kissed him sympathetically, wanting him to stay slow, stay in the moment. His fingers found the hem of your tee and raised it without questions. “Brad – ”

“Turn around, love. I need to bury myself in you, forget all about today.”

Numbly and as instructed you turned around and Bradley ran his palm over the curve of your ass, giving it a gentle grope before looping his slender fingers under the flimsy tights you wore, revealing a lack of underwear and he sucked in a breath. “Good girl,” he dragged the tights down and helped you step out of them, the tickle of his moustache against your hamstrings unfamiliar and teasing. “Take a step,” he said, nudging your legs apart, his fingers creeping around and sliding into your warm pussy. “Love, were you waiting for me?”

Not really, you wanted to admit and fell back against him as his thumb started to work against your clit. As much as you didn’t want to bandage up the day by making love, it was hard to deny him when he needed you so badly and he could make you feel so good. Maybe he could coax you through this? You’d get in the mood; you always did.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” he murmured into your jaw as you writhed into his hand. He let out a small, rough laugh. “Like that?”

You were trying to and gee, it still felt so good as you clutched the bench top so tightly you begged not to splinter yourself. His skilled fingers pressed into your pussy, warm with slick, warm with what he begged was your desire for him. One finger then two, all the way in… and the way out as you squeaked, all the way in and contorting against your g-spot.

His perfect fingers.

It wasn’t how you saw tonight, but he had a mystical way to make you give in and share the moment with him. “You’re throbbing. Don’t you have dare cum anywhere else but on my cock, you hear me?” his hot breath was at your ear now, his divine tongue tracing from your shoulder to the nape of your neck and be paused momentarily while you heard him open his belt and drop his zip.

Bradley pushed down his jeans and boxer briefs before taking off his tee, discarding it, he gave himself a few guiding pumps, his cock painfully hard and bent his knees a little as he guided his thick cock into your weeping cunt. “Oh, Bradley,” you couldn’t deny him as he pushed in sinfully slowly. Bottoming out, he breathed deeply, kissing your neck, his tongue gliding down its curve as he reached for your slit again.

“Don’t you dare cum until I say so, hear me?” he asserted, his thumb and index fingers pinching your clit. God, you loved when he proved his position in power.

You breathed deeply, gathering that he needed this so badly. Your gentle Bradley Bradshaw needed his release, most nights this week had been the same, with the exception of yesterday… it brought the best night in a few weeks – your man at his best. 

But that hadn’t stopped the strange nagging in the back of your mind. He’d been quiet, reclusive, seeking comfort in fucking to release. There wasn’t a heck of a lot of intimacy, he’d rolled over and gone to sleep most nights, but you couldn’t hold it against him. What he was putting his body through to prepare for this mission was unlike anything you’d ever heard.

From what you’d mentioned to Grandpa, Viper admitted what Bradley and his squadron were being put through was more than he’d ever put his 1% through, and more than he’d heard before.

The thing was you didn’t really feel connected, you kind of felt like a vessel for him and wondered if this was just something because he was clearly going through it, or if this would continue after this assignment ceased? Both left a nagging feeling that maybe you weren’t coping with it as well as you would have hoped for either. “Fuck,” you were so in your own head, you knew you’d lost your orgasm. Shit.

“Yes, love,” he concurred. “Just a bit more for me.”

And as Bradley rutted into you, telling you to cum when you weren’t close to doing so, you held your hand up. “Bradley,” you tried as you felt the sweat of his forehead balance on your shoulder. “Bradley,” you spoke up and his hips slamming into you stopped abruptly.

“What?” he muttered back.

You shook your head, begging him silently to ignore you and just get it over and done with. He started to furiously rub your clit thinking you just need a little extra stimulation, but it only felt uncomfortable. You sighed and just let him finish as he sped up behind you, quads snapping into your hamstrings like pistons as you braced the bench top to keep your balance. You held Bradley make a low growl behind you and you knew he’d come. He kissed the curve of your shoulder, pulling your back to his front tightly as you shrugged him off, lying about how sensitive you felt. 

“Sorry, baby. Just needed that out, you know?” he breathed, leaning his body weight against you and he slipped out of you, his cock weeping against your ass and the proof of your fucking seeping between your legs as he hummed in appreciation. “That looks so good.”

You heard him pulling his jeans back up and turning you to face him, his face soft as he chuckled low, mess dribbling between your legs and he tried to kiss you. He paused when he realised you weren’t returning his advances.

“What’s up?”

You couldn’t articulate how empty you felt and could only look at him.

“You okay? Did I hurt you?” he asked, crestfallen. “Was I too rough?”

“No, it’s fine – ”

“No. It’s clearly not,” he cut in, his calloused hands soft on your jaw as he lifted your eyes to meet his. “Are you sure I wasn’t too rough?”

“You weren’t rough… you just weren’t…”

“I wasn’t what?” he was starting to panic, he never in his worst dreams ever wanted you to be scared or upset or -

“When did it become a thing that you come home wild and just expect me to fuck you out of your piss poor mood?” you said before you could find a way to be more eloquent and articulate yourself a little better.

His jaw dropped as he stammered over words. “I… what?” he asked, lost, confused. It was all etched across his handsome face.

“Since Mav came back, you’ve been a storm in a teacup. Every single night you have come home angrier than the night before and I just feel like the only way I can get you smiling again is if we fuck.”

“I don’t – ” he tried.

“Bradley, I don’t understand in what world you think what just happened was good for me. This isn’t a consent thing, you certainly didn’t hurt me, but Jesus, I’m not just some tool, some vessel you fuck until you feel better about yourself.”

He started to frown and took a step back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t – ”

“I’m supposed to be the woman you love. Not once this week when you’ve gotten home have you asked me how my day was, you’ve gone straight for the booze, drowned yourself in a few scotches and then fucked me before barely saying another word and going to sleep.”

He kept his mouth shut this time and leaned against the corner of the bench, giving you some distance.

“And I know today was terrible. You lost Ice, you almost lost Natasha and Bob. I cannot imagine what you’re going through, but if you think for one second what just happened was just what you needed, wow, we need to really talk.”

“I’m sorry, love. I don’t know what has come over me,” he admitted softly. He felt sick. Never in his wildest had he wanted you to feel anything except his equal. He had never intended to make you feel inferior. All he could hear was the blood pumping in his ears, a disillusionment in himself he’d never felt before. “You’re the only person keeping me afloat at the moment,” he confided quietly but he couldn’t meet your gaze.

“Thing is… I know that. But does that mean I cop all your baggage as well, just for the fucking fun of it?” you raised your voice a little. He still looked stunned. It wasn’t often Bradley found himself dumbstruck, but he’d never known he could hurt anyone the way he had clearly hurt you. He looked at his feet, muffling an apology and something about not coping at the moment.

“No shit,” you told him. “I am breaking my back to bend and cater to your whim, Bradley.”

He looked up, lost, lonely, ashamed. “Love, I’m so sorry. I have just been so – “

“Angry?”

“Yeah,” he said softly. He almost wanted to smile – you got him in one.

“Preoccupied?”

“Well – ” he was surprised there was more.

“Rude, obnoxious?”

“Fuck, am I doing anything right at the moment?” he asked sensitively. He looked so utterly broken, you almost wanted to go to him, but your brain was fried. All you could think of was a hot shower, clean yourself up and go to bed. “Love...” he tried calling after you as you went to the bedroom, slamming the door in your own right. Your neighbours must be so thrilled with you and Bradley’s current door-slamming arrangements.

Not one to take anything laying down, he carefully followed you to the bedroom but already heard the water running, your clothes discarded near the hamper. He couldn’t help himself and picked up your tee, pressing it to his nose and letting your perfume try and centre him before collecting the rest and putting it away to wash.

He leaned against the bathroom door and knocked gently. You didn’t reply so he hoped walking in was okay. What he found wasn’t. You were sitting on the closed toilet, knees dragged to your chest, naked and in tears. “Oh, my God, love. I’m so sorry,” the urgency of the situation hit him rudely.

You were upset, you were devastated because of him. He moved and knelt before you but didn’t know if he should touch you although he was absolutely desperate to hold you, whisper all the endearments you needed to hear to reassure you how much he loved you, needed you, wanted the rest of his life with you. Apologise for being so completely irrational but also, he couldn’t explain how he was feeling – all the thoughts, feelings and emotions that Mav coming back had brought him. And losing Ice, a man who stepped in when Mav betrayed him all those years ago –

He hesitated to grasp your ankle, clueless as to what you needed or what you’d allow him to do. He wanted to wrap you up and remind you that you were everything, but he had never seen you so troubled and worse, because of him. He was distraught that he might have scared you, and made you doubt everything he felt because he was spiralling.

The thing was, he knew he was spiralling. You knew he was… and worst? So did Maverick. He hadn’t mentioned to you the heated words they’d exchanged when Bradley had approached him about pulling his papers. It was years in the making, and the lack of control Bradley had made his head spin. But it felt so good to finally have the question in the air.

Why did Mav stand in his way? And what was Mav’s shitty response? Bradley wasn’t ready. He was never ready for anything in his life. Losing his dad, his mother. How could Pete Mitchell take the one thing he was so certain of and suggest he wasn’t ready? 

“I’m sorry I missed that you weren’t, God, how do I say this? You weren’t into it, that I was being selfish. I know I’ve been hard to take the last few weeks, love,” he said miserably. “I’m not coping, I’m treating you like shit and hurting you. My brain won’t stop – ” he paused when you laced your fingers in his hair and he sat up to look in your eyes. Tears strained your cheeks, breathing uneasy but you pulled him into your arms anyway and Bradley Bradshaw had never felt more loved. He tenderly wrapped his arms around you and whispered, “You’re too good for me. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you.”

“I love you, Bradley. I love you so much and that is why this is scaring me. It’s too good to be true, and Mav comes back… and it’s like I don’t even know you,” you confessed to him, and he finally got it. “I’ve known you my whole life, but I don’t know this part of you. And I need to understand because if this is going to our life… I need to be a part of it. Not compartmentalised and watching you try and handle it yourself.”

“I know,” he said sadly. “I know, baby. I am not doing much well right now.”

“No. And that’s all you needed to say to me. Let me be there for you. Let me be a part of this.”

“I don’t want to drag you into my bullshit – ”

“Bradley, if this were me going through this, you would do everything in your power to fix it. Please… let me try and do the same. The right way.”

Bradley had never felt so adored and loved by someone. He knew his mom loved him unconditionally, but it had been so long that he felt that someone could try and be that person for him again. “I will, love. I don’t wanna lose you, but I just can’t do this on my own.”

You were both silent for a moment before you released him and held his face in your soft palms. Your handsome, broken boy.

“And you’ll never have to,” you gingerly moved to your feet and he did the same, and you kissed him, forcing all the love and adoration you had for him into it. And you could feel him shake against you. “Oh, Bradley,” you said, pulling him to you tightly as he buried his face into your skin. You could feel his stinging tears but he wouldn’t meet your eyes. So, you let him cry. And you cried, but it just affirmed how much you loved him and how much you needed each other.

Kissing your hair, Bradley whispered he would see you at home tonight. You nodded, gently touching his waist, not wanting to show too much affection while his squad, superiors, and friends were gathering to say goodbye to Ice.

You watched Bradley every moment of the procession while holding Grandpa’s hand, protectively from your position. They were eerily similar, stoic in training, eyes forward, strong, emotionless. “I’ll go back to the Kazanskys’ with Grandpa, Grandma and Ma for a little while. Are you able to get away for a bit?” you hoped. He gave a small shake of the head.

“I can’t, sorry, love. I’ll see Mrs K when this is all over and pass along my condolences properly. I don’t think Mav got an exemption either. It’s all too close, with everything pushed up a week and I’ll probably be late.”

You tried to hide the way your shiver could easily be constructed as plain cold fear, but he didn’t admit it if he noticed. “Can you message me when you’re on your way home?” you asked quietly.

“Of course,” he said faintly.

“Be safe, baby,” you told him as he nodded and licked his lips, kissing your temple tenderly. “I have to go. I love you,” he said, whispering purposefully into your skin, not wanting anyone else to know or hear how much those words meant to him. It felt like there wasn’t a sentence that ‘I love you’ was punctuated at the end of the last 48 hours. It reassured you and the last few days had scared you both so dearly as you nodded gently. He stopped to shake Grandpa’s hand on the way past before following his squadron back to base.

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” Grandpa asked, approaching you. He had been speaking with Maverick for a long while.

“Yeah,” you told him gently. You knew Grandpa wasn’t doing well; Ice had been one of his students and as he rose through the ranks, Grandpa had acted as a mentor as such for him. You needed to spend time with him today. He hated outliving his students. Your world was spinning, the men you loved were going through so much and you were trying, dear God how you were trying to be there for them, but you were struggling to keep your head above water too.

You reached for Grandpa’s hand as he gave a wry smile. It had been such a long time since you’d seen him in his dress blues, and the authority he demanded that day made you feel so proud that he still commanded as much respect today as he did all those years ago. As a child, this Navy shit was just a boring way to waste your time. It affected swimming, school, and regular kid shit until you got to your teens and Viper was close to retirement age, well, those years with the handsome officers in their suits… and now, with your own partner. And all the risks you’d taken for granted as a child for the families of officers that didn’t come home and the fear you felt for Bradley, his squad, for you.

You sighed, Jesus, your life was so ingrained in all this. And while you’d always known, it had never felt as precarious as it did at that moment. How quickly it could all end. And poor Ice was so sick… he’d made it as far through as far as it was written in the stars. You could only hope you and Bradley were afforded the same luxury.

masterlist.

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

[charmercharm3r]

i can't stop thinking about hyunjin fucking you from the back slowly while massaging you and just treating you like a princess

Masterlist

☆ﾟ

hyune would be such a sucker for early morning sex, when he’s the most sensitive but also not truly conscious just yet and all he craves is your warmth. all he could think about is how he wants to hold you, touch you, feel you everywhere and all around him as his chest is pressed against your back. he loves being the big spoon, so naturally, he just has to have you like that.

your leg propped up in the crook of his elbow as his face is buried in the side of your neck with little to no regard of how hard he’s sucking marks into the skin. he’d take you so slowly and softly that it feels like you’ve been fucking for hours when really, you’re both just too tired and in love to truly pay attention to anything but each other. hyunjin can never keep his mouth shut either, noise complaints and banging on the walls from your neighbors come with the territory.

hyunjin has a soft spot for praise, both giving and receiving even if he may act like he hates it. times when you’re really not coherent and just wanting to hear him talk is when that side of himself rears it’s head to spill all the cringey secrets he usually keeps for himself. things like, “my love,” “sweetheart,” or “princess,” fall from his mouth so easily when you aren’t paying too much attention.

though, when he wants you to listen, he gets a bit too into it. dirtier, much more sultry and erotic words have you both blooming with arousal because he just can’t help but tell you all the things you make him feel.

“pretty baby, who got you so worked up? oh, me? i haven’t even done anything yet. you flatter me, love.

won’t you let me help you? it must be so bothersome. don’t worry, i’ll take care of everything. you relax and let me do all the work.

feel that? that’s what you do to me, make me feel insane. i just have to have you, all the time— fuck, you fit me so perfectly.

can’t imagine what i’d do without you. not a single person has ever made me so insatiable. i need you, i’ll always need you.

god, you’re so good to me. so warm, so wet and tight. hnghh— do that again, oh my— you’re trying to get me to blow, aren’t you?”

-

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuka @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @leebitsimpracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @kaitchan @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem

[actuallysaiyan]

Part 3 and final part of my shout outs. As I said in the last part, if I forgot anyone, I am so so so sorry. Please remember that if we have ever interacted or we've ever chatted or reblogged or commented from one another or you've ever even just liked any of my fics, you are a super star and I love you!

In no particular order...

@tsukimefuku for being so sweet, kind and so so so talented! I am so happy I stumbled onto your blog when I did. I have found nothing but amazing fics and such an amazing person as well!

@rahuratna who is, in my opinion, one of the best writers ever on this app! Thank you for blessing us all with amazing fics and also with such awesome comments and reblogs! You're so amazing!

@g-kleran. who is such a sweetheart and always leaves the best comments! You are an angel and I am so happy you are in my life <3

@anonimusunnoaniswriting thank you for being my friend and always being so sweet and writing some of the best fics on here ever! You are crazy talented and I love seeing you on my dash.

@kentocalls <33333 Sweetiepie you are truly a blessing in this life! Thank you for being so supportive and so kind and your writing is so gooooddd so amazing!!!

@marikuchanxo I'm so glad we started talking!! You're the number one Ijichi fan for sure! I love your Smaus! and you are just such a treasure in this world!

@erebus-et-eigengrau you are the gift to the writers! You literally are so kind and so sweet with your comments. Honestly a lot of the time, I wonder how I could continue writing without your sweet and encouraging comments to keep me going!

@that-goth-bisexual you are so talented and so sweet and I love love love seeing you on my dash! Thank you for being so friendly and for writing such yummy Yandere fics!

@lazyjellyfish300 we have just found one another, but I am OBSESSED with your writing! Thank you for being so supportive of my work as well!!! You are so awesome!

@celestialgojo thank you for always being a good friend and thank you for writing amazing beautiful poetic works of art! I cannot wait to see what else you'll write and I always love seeing you in my inbox!

@entirelysein-e who is just a beautiful ray of sunshine, an amazing friend and so so so so supportive! You write some very spicy smut that I always look forward to and you really are just so amazing!

@kenpachisbrat fellow Kenpachi enjoyer! And also such a sweetheart! You and @entirelysein-e will never know how much you did for me that one day that I started chatting with both of you! It was a life changing day for me!!!

more mentions and sweethearts that are near and dear in my heart(I LOVE YOU ALL THANK YOU FOR BEING IN MY LIFE):

@an-ever-angry-bi @jadedjane @dottedsilktie

@galaxychaos78 @harlekin6 @kanashiki79 @senseifupa

@shycoconutt

AND SO MANY MANY OTHERS!!!!! Please, my inbox is ALWAYS open to chat and to shout out the many amazing people on Tumblr!

[ellswritings]

Prologue

Episode 1

     A small bead of sweat drips down the little ten-year-old girl’s forehead as she grips onto her father's hand tightly. She watches anxiously as kids run back and forth, screaming at the top of their lungs during recess. Her eyes travel up to her father's, her bottom lip quivering just slightly knowing she’ll have to let go. She’s been to at least four schools in the past year and has not been able to make a friend. At least one that sticks anyway. 

“I don’t understand,” she says quietly to her father. “You said that I’m older than all of them. So why do I have to go play?” 

The young girl, Fallon Donovan, was supposed to be in the fourth grade, but due to her fathers job the two were constantly moving which forced her to stay back a grade. She didn’t like the feeling of being held back. She knew deep down that all the rest of the kids would assume it’s because of her lack of intellect. Which isn’t true at all. She just hasn’t stayed in a place long enough to get caught up with each district's curriculum as it differs from place to place. 

“Because sweetheart, you gotta go try to make friends,” her dad tries to convince. 

“But why do I have to be stuck in this grade? You always tell me how smart I am. Why can't I just go with the older kids?” 

Michael Donovan sighs, crouching down to his daughter's height. He can’t help but blame himself for their current predicament. Ever since Fallon’s mother Grace passed, he’s been struggling to make things work for the two of them. “You are smart,” he encourages. “The smartest kid I know. But you know that it’s not your fault you got held back, right? It’s just because daddy’s job moves us around a lot, so you just need time to catch up to what these kids are learning,” his explanation is soft and gentle, bringing Fallon a sense of ease.

“But what if we don’t stay long enough?” She questions, swaying back and forth. 

Michael moves a stray piece of hair that fell out of her haphazard fishtail braid. He wasn’t exactly proud of his handiwork, but he’s trying to get the hang of it. “I think this will be our last stop for awhile, Fall. I promise,” he reassures. He grunts before standing back up to his full stature, patting his young girls back. “Now go out there and show those kids how awesome you are.” 

Swallowing thickly, Fallon wraps her small arms around her fathers legs before running off to the playground. She doesn’t look back at him, knowing if she does she might never actually be able to stay at her new school. Her father watches after her with a fond smile. His brave girl. Doesn’t even need to wave goodbye. He shoves his hands into his jeans and travels back over to his car, hoping that his daughter has a good day. She may be his little girl, but he’s aware that her attitude can be rather dangerous. Fallon is no stranger to being suspended from schools for her sarcasm and deadpan threats. 

The ten year old finds her way over to the swing set, noticing how there’s not many kids there to bother her. She pushes herself off the ground, using the chains to remain steady as she begins to swing back and forth. Fallon doesn’t mind being alone for the time being. She wasn’t expecting to make any friends on the first day. She is the new girl after all. 

As she kicks her feet harder, she doesn’t even realize how high she truly ends up going. The air catches her hair, blowing it backwards which causes a small smile to etch its way onto her face. The cute grin is short-lived though when she glances over to the sand pit and sees a group of four boys taking transformer toys away from another two kids. She narrows her eyes, jumping off the swing. Her feet kick up sand as he marches over to the small pit. 

The two kids being bullied are no doubt in her grade. One of them is a pasty white, freckles decorating his little body. His hair is a lighter brown that sticks in many different directions. The other boy’s jaw is a little lopsided which Fallon finds rather endearing. His eyes are a deep chocolate brown, and his hair is a bit darker than his counterparts. 

“Give it back, Tony!” The pasty one yells, standing from his spot to appear more intimidating. “That's ours!” 

“Oh,” Tony fake pouts, teasing the two boys with the toy he just stole. “What are you gonna do about it? Cry like the little baby you are?” His friends snicker behind him which only makes Fallon’s blood boil hotter. 

“Just leave us alone,” the other boy begs. “We didn’t do anything to you.” 

“Zip it, McCall!” Tony snaps before kicking sand up at the both of them. The two boys cough and wipe their faces to try and get the sand out of their eyes. 

“Hey!” Fallon yells, shoving the bully as she steps in between his group and the two boys that have been targeted. Tony stumbles backwards as Fallon glares at him harshly, “They said leave them alone.” 

Tony and his friends look at each other, unsure of how to react. That is until the ring leader himself walks up to Fallon with a cocky grin, “And why would we listen to you? You’re just a stupid girl.” 

“I am not stupid,” she growls. “Now give them their toys back.” 

The two boys she’s protecting watch her in complete awe. No one has ever stood up to Tony, ever. That’s how they knew she must be new to the school. She wasn’t afraid of him or his friends. Even though she was much smaller than the rest of them, she still stood her ground which is more than most of the kids could say.

Tony steps forward, “What are you gonna do about it, Princess?” He mocks, once again evoking smug laughs from his posse. 

Without much hesitation, Fallon’s fist flies forward, knocking Tony square in the nose. He falls to the floor, the Transformers action figures falling into the sand allowing the brunette to quickly swoop them up. Tony’s friends scamper away, now frightened by the unhinged girl in front of them. Tony himself whimpers into his hand as he tries to stop his now bloody nose from getting all over his shirt. He doesn’t say anything else before running off with his friends to the furthest side of the playground. 

Fallon huffs, dusting off her jeans which have little flower patches on them. The hand she used to punch Tony is slightly red, but nothing too damaging. The two boys behind her are still staring at her, jaws practically touching the floor. She giggles as walks closer to them, handing them their action figures back. 

“Hi,” she greets cheerfully. “I’m Fallon.” 

Instead of saying his own name, the boy with many freckles on his face jumps up and down, flailing his arms all over the place. “That! Was! Awesome!” He exclaims. “You are the coolest person ever.” 

“Thanks,” she grins. “What are your guys' names?” She asks with the small tilt of her head. 

“I’m Scott,” the darker haired boy says. 

“And I’m Stiles,” states the boy she now wants to call freckles. 

“Thanks for getting our toys back,” Scott says gratefully. “Tony always comes and tries to take the new stuff they put in the sand pit.” 

“He’s rude,” Fallon scoffs. “I don’t like him.”

“None of us do,” Stiles adds sarcastically. “But he beats up the people who don’t listen to him.” 

“Well, not anymore,” Fallon says with her head held high. “If he tries to take your stuff again, I’ll punch him even harder next time. I’ll knock his teeth out and make sure the tooth fairy doesn’t give him money for it.” 

“You can do that?” Both of them asked, completely amazed by the statement that just left her mouth. 

“Mhm,” Fallon nods. “My dad knows her. I can put a good word in for you guys if you want?” 

“Yes!” Stiles exclaims as Scott just nods his head fervently. 

“Do you maybe wanna play with us?” Scott asks, pointing to their designated spot in the sand pit. “We need someone to play with Optimus Prime to complete our game.”

“Really?” Fallon asks with an excited twinkle in her eyes. “You mean it?” 

“Yeah!” Stiles insists, plopping down in his spot. He pats the empty space next to him, “You can sit next to me.” 

“Okay,” Fallon agrees, falling criss-cross applesauce beside Stiles. Scott sits directly across from them and the trio begins their journey with the Autobots. 

Fallon silently thanks her father for showing her the Transformers movies and the different lore behind them or else she would be completely lost during this interaction. “So,” Stiles begins, “You’re new here, right?”

“Yeah,” Fallon answers. “I moved here from New York,” she explains. “My dads job moves him around a lot so I’ve been to a lot of places.” 

“Even the moon?” Scott wonders.

Fallon laughs, “Not yet. I hope we don’t go there.” 

“Yeah, that would suck,” Stiles agrees. “You just got here.” 

“My dad said we were gonna stay here,” Fallon shrugs, moving her action figure across the sand. “So hopefully I don’t have to go anywhere for a while. It gets lonely trying to find friends in new schools. It’s hard to talk to other kids,” she admits. 

“You’re talking to us,” Scott points out.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she smiles at the two boys. 

“Do you wanna be our new best friend?” Stiles bluntly asks. 

“Stiles,” Scott scolds. “You can’t just ask people to be our best friend. That’s weird. You’re gonna scare her off.” 

“You won’t scare me off,” Fallon shakes her head. “I don’t get scared easily. My dad says I’m super brave. But I would love to be your best friend!” She tells them. “As long as you guys will let me.” 

“See? It’s not weird,” Stiles sticks his tongue out at Scott. “Now we have a new friend.” 

Scott is quick to fly across the sand pit and begin wrestling Stiles. Fallon laughs loudly at the two boys, blocking her face from the sand coming at her. “Guys! Stop!” She giggles. “We only have a couple more minutes before we have to go back inside and we haven’t even finished the story yet.” 

Reluctantly, Scott gets off of Stiles and moves back to his spot in the sand pit so they can continue their game. The boys never thought they’d meet someone who’d fit so seamlessly in their little duo, which now seems to be more of a trio. The three of them laugh together as they come up with random pieces of dialogue for their characters that make absolutely no sense. 

As Scott starts his own monologue with the small action figure in his hand, Stiles finds himself staring at the girl next to him. Small specks of sand in her dark hair, perfectly straight teeth, and choppy bangs covering her forehead. She is really pretty. Maybe as pretty as his little crush, Lydia Martin. 

“Stiles,” Fallon nudges his shoulder with her own. “It’s your turn.” 

The boy blinks before turning his attention back to their game, “Okay. Let’s finish this before Ms. Clifford makes us put everything away.” 

Fallon didn’t realize that at that moment she found herself two true friends. Ones that will stick by her through thick and thin despite the unknown facing them. When they learned that the triangle was the strongest shape in nature, they didn’t know how true that statement was until they looked at each other. Smiling at Stiles and Scott, Fallon felt like Beacon Hills would be her final stop. A place where she could finally put down roots and find her own misfit family. 

[mckitterick]

Aurora deep into southern Midwest!

After Friday night's less-than-stellar experience hunting for a good spot to watch the aurora near LFK (short answer: there is none), tonight we decided to drive north a couple hours to get deeper into the aurora zone, and a little east to reach truly dark skies and skirt the clouds creeping across Kansas and Nebraska. Still pretty far south in the grand scheme of things (northern Missouri), but the darkest skies we've seen in a long time.

At first we parked as planned near a nature preserve in what is billed as a town (really just a handful of houses), but the northern view from there looked over a house that sits beside Loud Frog Land:

So when the sky began to dance (see this image), we drove a bit farther along hilly, winding country blacktop until finding a little gravel turn-around.

Just as we set out our folding chaise lounges, the sky really heated up, and for about 20 minutes it was amazing:  

This image and the top one (by @bugs-are-buddies using her Android S22 Ultra) are much better than from mine (Note9); thanks, darlin'.

My tripod-mounted DSLR was a bust, though I managed to snap the below Moon image once I got the telephoto lens working - had to turn the autofocus on and off again to manually focus at all (always the same story with tech), so we missed imaging the burst of aurora action with that machine.

(Left image is me fiddling with the camera by the light of the Moon and the aurora's fading glow.)

We stuck around for a while after the dramatically waving red-pink-green curtains diminished from their peak, hoping the huge Coronal Mass Ejection had more to offer, but things tapered off around Cassiopeia. And it was getting cold. So home we went.

The drive back was dinner of nut bars and pears, and introducing my sweetheart to some 1990s bangers on le Wedding Trip Jag's awesome speaker setup.

Two nights of dramatic aurorae - visible as far south as Kansas! Wow!

I hope you got a chance to catch some of the Sun's beautiful assault against Earth's skies. Ad Astra!

[doshiart]

Gallavich Lovefest 2024

I haven't read that many works yet, but I already have a small bookmarks collection. So I wanna share my love!

Happy Valentine's Day everyone!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

10. A one-shot by someone else that's less than a year old

7 Minutes in Heaven by @crossmydna

It may or may not be biased because it's literally based off on my fanart. BUT. I really enjoyed this one! It's funny, sensual and hot. And they're adorable high school teens who are exploring each other, locked in the cramped space. Thank you, Cross! <3

11. A multi-chapter by someone else that's at least 3 years old (and complete)

Like Real People Do by @gallavichy

I'm still in the process of reading, but I've read "Cooperative Gameplay" before, so I already want to praise the story in advance. I love texting au and this is amazingly written. A lot of emotions, worries, warmth and love. Thank you, Gray! <3 I noticed that there haven't been any new post updates for a long time and that's a little sad, but I hope you're doing well and feel happy!

12. A multi-chapter by someone else that's between 1 and 3 years old (and complete)

Teenage Dirtbag by @heymacy

That's what rocked me. First love. Love at first sight. Mutual pining reached all limits. I loved this music band au so much. The 90s make this story even more interesting. I am absolutely totally in love with this version of the Milkovich family. Ian and Mandy's friendship is briliant. It was like an awesome movie. Thank you, Macy! <3

13. A multi-chapter by someone else that's less than a year old (and complete)

Out of Nowhere by @suzy-queued

Gives me goosebumps. Love and betrayal? I'm gonna cry. This is a thrilling story, i love it so much and want to re-read it soon. And it's a story with a stunning covers. If for some reason you have not read this yet, then I just recommend reading it. GO READ IT. I have so many feeling. Thank you, Deena! <3 I'm looking forward to your next multi-chap story with great interest and intense curiosity. Your universes, worldbuilding and original characters are amazing!

30. Any fanwork (yours or someone else's) that's at least 7 years old

Is There Somewhere by andchaos

One of the very first fic I read in the fandom. I was very amazed by this story and I fell in love even more.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

24. A Gallavich/fandom Tumblr blog

@callivich for this a huge impressive collection! I absolutely love every post.

@gallacrafts for creativity! I'm glad I discovered these inspiring monthly themes.

@gallavichthings for interesting events and community unity! This is truly wonderful.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

5. A fanart by someone else that’s at least 3 years old

I love the colors here.

6. A fanart by someone else that’s between 1 and 3 years old

This is so lovely and intimate.

7. A fanart by someone else that's less than a year old

I love the view of this scene from this side, it's very beautiful.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

...and lastly hehe

4. Something you're working on (either a fic that's still a WIP or plans for future works - feel free to add snippets/sketches/etc.)

cooking something for gallacrafts!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤactually no! the wall is lying. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ♡ love to all ♡

[icypantherwrites]

hi hello I normally do asks anonymously but I wanted you to personally know

I found you a couple days ago i believe and oh my god. Are you like, an angel?? Dude. You’ve written over 200 works, nearly 90% of them being in the vld fandom. I feel like no one gives you enough credit for your contributions to fanfic, especially in the vld fandom. I can’t even begin to think of 20 ideas for a fanfic. You’ve had probably over thousands. You are genuinely one of the most talented writers I’ve ever come across. I love how you write angst and pain. It’s done so in a way that can hurt you so deeply yet leave you wanting for more. Just perfectly encapsulated what it is like to read angst because you did it. in a way that clearly shows you understood the assignment. I love how you write yearning and internal turmoil. I love how you write rising tension and build up anticipation. It leaves me on the edge of my seat every time and I get so excited every time something super important happens. I love how you write each of the characters’ relationships with one another. It can literally feel so personal to see them interact. my favs of yours are probably keith and shiro <and> lance and hunk. You are such a great writer and I don’t think you get enough recognition or appreciation because oh my god. Every time I read your works it is just masterpiece after masterpiece. And the way you end them?? You know just how to make an ending to a story so satisfactory. Because you write the beginning to be satisfactory. You write the middle to be satisfactory. You write every single chapter, paragraph, sentence, and word to make sure that the story concludes in a way that leaves you feeling content. I am genuinely always baffled at how godly your writing is. How you never get any credit where it is clearly due is completely insane. You have done wonders in this world, even if it just seems like a little corner of it. You were here. And you did good for so many. You are so amazing and I don’t know how many ways I could possibly tell that to you. If you ever were to write an original work I would make sure to personally buy ten thousand copies all on my own. Because I know damn well that if you wrote it, it is going to be one of the best pieces of literature ever written. You are so. So. So so so so so so so so soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo amazing. And awesome. And cool. And great.

So much love.

You are incredible.

🩷🩷

So I would like to preface this response by noting that I've had regular asks closed for the last few months due to just a lot of negative feelings with the entitlement behind the asks, and anonymous asks closed for the last year due to various reasons but the most common one being trolls and hate mail. Following a recent livestream on my Patreon I kind of said screw it, let's just see how it goes again and opened them and so the fact that this absolute sweetheart gem of an ask is the first thing I get not even two days later is just... wow, thank you. I've only read this like ten times now.

I just wanted to say this comment makes me feel very seen and appreciated and all of the kind words are backed up by the fact I do indeed recognize your name (so I am glad you didn't submit this as anon!) as having popped into a number of my stories over the past week or so and leaving such sweet comments. It truly means a lot. And as an aside, I am very excited to see you (hopefully) back for the final chapters of Missing as (ironically) a lot of the audience went missing the last few ;p So I do hope you enjoy it and would love to hear your thoughts there! As you observed, it's definitely a bit of a rough go to put all this time and effort into writing and sharing my works and not really seeing a lot of folks engaging with the stories any more, but I'm still trying my best to post for as long as I can. And readers like yourself are the reason I do try to continue to do so 🧡

I also just wanted to highlight of this entire highlight of a comment the little bit you mentioned about how I end stories. Thank you. I strive really hard to not just 'finish' a story but to wrap up every tangent and every little loose thread into a pretty bow so nothing ever feels unfinished and it's not always an easy thing to do. But I've read plenty of stories where it just ends and it's like, but wait, it was so abrupt, it feels incomplete, and I don't ever want anyone to feel that way reading my stories.

I have unfortunately given up my dream of writing my own original novel as I've lost a lot of faith in my abilities due to the continual decrease of engagement and just feeling like nothing I ever write will be good enough, but thank you so much for the encouragement and the kind words. I don't think it'll ever happen, but if it does I'll for sure post a link to purchase my novel on Tumblr ;p

I could gush about all the little, beautiful details you wrote in this for hours but I will cut myself off here. But thank you, truly, for such a sweet message and kind words and I do hope to continue to see you in the comment sections of my stories for the little bits of sunshine you bring into my life🧡