#you always show up even when I think your gone

[aceyalonso]

pretty in pink - CARLOS SAINZ

pairing : carlos sainz x girlfriend!reader kinktober day 16 - lingerie

summary : spending 23 grand on a shopping spree? that's something only y/n can do, but of course the money spent will always be worth it, especially when she gets something that can benefit her and carlos

warnings/notes : swearing, a bit of plot, smut, spit, nipple play, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!), hair pulling, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, fingering, anal sex, mention and use of sex toys, gagging, praise kink, explicit photography (with consent of course)

word count : 5.7k

a/n : sorry if this took so long, i was so busy these past few days

main masterlist | kinktober masterlist | taglist form

Y/n walked through the front door, arms laden with shopping bags. "I'm home!" she called out cheerfully, expecting Carlos to greet her. When there was no response, she assumed he must still be asleep after his training session this morning.

Humming to herself, Y/n made her way to the kitchen, setting her purchases down on the counter. She opened the refrigerator door, bending over to grab a bottle of water.

Suddenly, strong arms encircled her waist from behind, pulling her back against a firm chest. Y/n let out a startled yelp, heart leaping into her throat as she spun around.

Carlos grinned down at her, dark eyes gleaming with mischief. "Well hello there, beautiful," he purred, voice low and husky. "Welcome home."

Y/n rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling back. "You scared me half to death, you jerk," she laughed, playfully swatting his chest. "I thought you were asleep."

Carlos chuckled, his hands sliding down to rest on Y/n's hips. "Oh, I was sleeping like a baby...until the bank called to ask if my credit card had been stolen. Apparently, someone went on quite the shopping spree today."

Y/n bit her lip, trying to look innocent. "I may have gone a little overboard," she admitted sheepishly. "But you know how it is when the girls drag you out shopping. One minute you're just browsing, and the next you've maxed out three credit cards."

Carlos raised an eyebrow, amused. "Eight thousand dollars at Sephora? What exactly did you buy, love? The entire store?"

Y/n giggled, leaning into him. "Maybe. But you should see the new eyeshadow palettes I got! They're to die for."

"And don't even get me started on Victoria's Secret," Carlos teased, his hands dipping lower. "Fifteen grand? I think that's more than the GDP of some small countries."

Y/n giggled, playfully swatting Carlos' chest. "C'mon, don't be such a killjoy! I got it for you!"

Realizing how that sounded, her eyes widened and she backpedaled quickly. "Wait, no, that came out wrong! I didn't buy you lingerie to wear, I swear!"

Carlos raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Really? Because I have to say, I'm a bit interested in this... development."

"No, no, nothing like that!" Y/n laughed, shaking her head. "I just figured you'd like seeing me in some of the new sets I got. You know, for your viewing pleasure and all that."

She bit her lip, a coy smile playing on her lips. "I'll model them for you after dinner, if you'd like. Give you a little private fashion show."

Carlos' eyes darkened, his gaze raking over her appreciatively. "Mmm, I think I'd like that very much, amor."

After dinner, Y/n led Carlos to their bedroom, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I have three sets to show you tonight," she purred, her hands sliding up his chest. "And I think you're going to like them very much."

She disappeared into the walk-in closet for a moment before emerging in a stunning white lingerie set. The bra was all lace and delicate straps, barely containing her ample breasts. The matching thong was equally skimpy, hugging her hips and leaving little to the imagination.

"What do you think?" Y/n asked, doing a slow spin. The white lace contrasted beautifully against her golden skin, making her look like a naughty angel.

Carlos' eyes darkened with lust, his hands flexing at his sides. "Fuck, Y/n," he growled, his voice low and rough. "You look gorgeous."

Y/n smiled, pleased by Carlos' reaction. "Thank you, baby," she purred, giving him a quick smile before sauntering back into the closet to change into the next set.

A moment later, she emerged in a stunning blue satin ensemble. The bra was a plunging push-up style, making her breasts look even more voluptuous than usual. The high-waisted panties hugged her curves, the satin smooth and cool against her skin.

"What do you think of this one?" Y/n asked, striking a pose. She ran her hands down her sides, tracing the curves of her waist and hips. "I thought the color would bring out my eyes."

Carlos' mouth went dry at the sight of her, his cock already starting to harden in his shorts. "It does," he managed, his voice strained. "It brings out how fucking sexy you are."

Y/n chuckled, her eyes flickering down to the growing bulge in Carlos' shorts. "Whoa there, big boy," she teased, sauntering closer to him. "We've got one more set to go. You need to calm down before you explode."

She reached out, trailing a finger along the waistband of his shorts, feeling the heat of his skin. "Although," she purred, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper, "I can't blame you. I'd be pretty excited too if I had a sexy girlfriend parading around in lingerie."

Carlos groaned, his hips bucking into her touch. "Fuck, Y/n," he growled, his hands settling on her hips. "You're killing me here."

Y/n grinned, giving his bulge a little squeeze before stepping back. "Patience, Carlos," she said, placing a peck on the corner of his lips. "The best is yet to come."

With that, she turned and headed back to the closet to change into the final set, leaving Carlos aching and wanting.

Y/n emerged from the closet for the final time, and Carlos' breath caught in his throat. She was wearing a soft baby pink set, the color he loved most on her. The bra was a delicate lace bralette, barely containing her full breasts. The matching thong was equally sweet, a tiny bow adorning the front.

"This one's my favorite," Carlos said hoarsely, his eyes devouring her. "You look absolutely stunning, Y/n."

Y/n smiled, pleased by his reaction. She did a little twirl, the fabric riding up to reveal the curve of her ass. "I'm glad you like it," she purred, walking towards him. "I picked it just for you."

She stopped in front of him, looping her arms around his neck. "So, what do you think of the whole collection?" she asked, pressing her body against his. "Did I do a good job?"

Carlos nodded, his lips brushing against Y/n's skin as he spoke. "Mhm," he murmured between kisses, his hands sliding down to grip her hips.

He pressed his mouth to her abdomen, trailing kisses across her soft skin. "Turn around for me, hermosa?" he asked, his voice low and rough with desire. "I want to see the back again."

Y/n shivered at the command in his tone, and the way he took charge. She obeyed without hesitation, slowly turning in a circle so he could admire the view.

The thong rode up as she moved, revealing the curve of her ass and the tiny pink thong nestled between her cheeks. Carlos groaned, his hands flexing with the urge to grab and squeeze.

Carlos' eyes darkened with lust as Y/n turned, revealing the tantalizing view of her ass barely covered by the thin pink thong. "Dios mio," he breathed, his hands flexing with the urge to grab and squeeze. "Can I rip it off?"

"Carlos, no," Y/n protested weakly, even as a thrill raced through her at his intensity. "I just bought this a few hours ago."

But he was already moving, his large hands gripping her hips and spinning her back around. In one swift motion, he hooked his fingers in the delicate fabric of the thong and ripped, the sound of tearing lace filling the room.

Y/n gasped as the flimsy garment gave way, Carlos tossing it aside carelessly. He pushed her back onto the bed, crawling over her with a predatory gleam in his eye.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he growled, his hands roaming over her bare skin. "I can't wait to ruin you."

Y/n whined as Carlos manhandled her, his rough treatment sending a thrill through her body despite her protests. "Carlos, c'mon," she pleaded, even as her hips bucked up against him. "I really liked that set."

Carlos just grinned, a wicked glint in his eye. "Sorry, baby," he purred, nipping at her earlobe. "But you look even better out of it."

He kissed down her neck, his hands sliding under her to unhook the delicate bra. With a flick of his fingers, the clasp came undone, and he tossed the lacy garment aside.

Y/n's breasts spilled free, and Carlos groaned at the sight. "Fuck, you're perfect," he growled, cupping the soft mounds in his hands. He lowered his head, his tongue flicking out to tease a pebbled nipple.

She arched into the touch, a moan escaping her lips. "Carlos," she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair. "Please..."

Carlos paused, looking up at Y/n with a raised eyebrow. "Please what?" he asked, his voice low and teasing. "Are you asking me to stop ruining your pretty lingerie?"

Y/n bit her lip, shaking her head. "No," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not asking you to stop."

A slow, wicked grin spread across Carlos' face. "That's what I thought," he purred, his lips curving into a smirk.

He continued his journey down her body, his kisses growing more heated as he went. He nuzzled the soft skin of her belly, his stubble rasping against her sensitive flesh.

Lower and lower he went, until his face was level with her pelvis. He inhaled deeply, the scent of her arousal filling his nostrils. "I'll buy you another pair of this set tomorrow," he promised, his voice muffled against her skin. "But for now..."

Carlos dipped his head between Y/n's thighs, his tongue delving into her folds with sensual, deliberate strokes. He took his time, savoring the taste of her, the way she writhed and moaned beneath him.

"Carlos, baby," Y/n gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair. "So good, god you're so good."

She ground against his face, her hips bucking as she chased her pleasure. But Carlos wasn't having it. He pushed her hips back down, holding her in place.

"Calm down, mi amor," he murmured against her skin, his voice vibrating through her. "I've got you. Just relax and let me take care of you."

Y/n whimpered, her body trembling with need. But she forced herself to still, trusting Carlos to bring her to the heights of ecstasy.

Carlos rewarded her obedience with a long, slow lick, his tongue swirling around her clit. He alternated between broad strokes and targeted flicks, building her pleasure steadily.

Carlos continued his assault on Y/n's pussy, his tongue delving deep, savoring every inch of her. He wasn't rushing, wasn't devouring her like a starved man. No, he was taking his time, committing every taste, every texture to memory.

The way she dripped onto his tongue, coating his taste buds with her essence. The little gasps and moans she made, music to his ears. The way her thighs trembled on either side of his head, her body surrendering to his touch.

He was messy, spit dripping down his chin, smearing across his cheeks. But he didn't care. All that mattered was Y/n, her pleasure, her satisfaction.

Carlos kept his mouth firmly planted between Y/n's thighs, his tongue delving deep into her soaked folds. God, she was so wet, her arousal coating his chin and dripping down onto the sheets below.

He moaned against her, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. His nose bumped against her clit with each thrust of his tongue, the sensitive bundle of nerves throbbing with need.

Y/n's legs slowly wrapped around his head, her heels digging into his back as she pulled him closer. "Fuck, baby," she panted, her fingers tightening in his hair. "Keep going, it feels so good. Like that, just like that."

Y/n's moans grew louder, her hips rocking against Carlos' face as he devoured her. She gasped as she felt his fingers teasing her entrance, circling the sensitive flesh but not quite penetrating.

"I want more, Carlos," she whimpered, her voice high and needy. "I want your fingers inside."

Carlos obliged, slowly pushing one finger into her tight heat. He groaned at the feel of her, hot and wet and perfect around him. He pumped his finger in and out, curling it to hit that special spot inside her.

Y/n keened, her back arching off the bed as he fingered her. "Yes, yes, just like that," she chanted, her walls clenching around his digits. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

Carlos thrust his middle finger deep into Y/n's pussy, the longest digit providing the perfect stretch. She moaned loudly, her legs shaking as he pumped in and out, curling his finger to hit her G-spot with each stroke.

Her body seemed to be at war with itself, her legs trembling and threatening to close, but her pussy clenching greedily around his finger, silently begging for more.

Carlos could feel her getting closer, her walls fluttering around him, her moans growing higher and more desperate. He doubled his efforts, adding a second finger and rubbing her clit with his thumb.

"That's it, baby," he growled against her skin. "Cum for me. Let me feel you."

Y/n's body tensed, her orgasm building slowly but surely. It took a few moments, but when it finally hit, it crashed over her like a pile of falling bricks.

Her back arched off the bed, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her. It was as if they were in a soundproof room, her moans echoing off the walls, filling the space with the symphony of her ecstasy.

Carlos worked her through it, his fingers never ceasing their relentless assault on her sensitive flesh. He lapped at her clit, drawing out her climax until she was a writhing, trembling mess beneath him.

Finally, she collapsed back onto the bed, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. Carlos gently withdrew his fingers, pressing a tender kiss to her inner thigh.

Carlos continued his worship of Y/n's body, his lips trailing kisses up and down her trembling thighs. He took his time, savoring the taste of her on his tongue, the feel of her soft skin beneath his lips.

Then, unable to resist any longer, he dipped his head back between her legs, his tongue delving into her soaked folds once more. Y/n gasped, her hips bucking up to meet his mouth.

He ate her out with fervor, his tongue swirling around her clit, dipping into her entrance, lapping up her essence. Y/n shook beneath him, her hands fisting in the sheets as she tried to anchor herself against the onslaught of sensation.

Carlos could feel her getting close again, her walls fluttering around his tongue, her moans growing higher and more desperate. He doubled his efforts, determined to bring her to the edge once more.

Y/n's hands fisted in Carlos' hair, tugging him closer as he devoured her. "Baby, you feel so good," she panted, her hips rocking against his face. "Keep going, don't stop."

Carlos growled in response, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue delving deep, lapping at her walls, flicking rapidly over her clit.

Y/n's thighs began to tremble, her body tensing as her second orgasm approached. "Carlos, I'm gonna... I'm gonna..." she gasped, her words dissolving into a high, keening moan as she came undone.

Carlos worked her through it, his mouth never leaving her pussy, prolonging her pleasure until she was a boneless, satisfied mess beneath him.

Y/n came again and again, her body shaking with the force of her orgasms. Carlos gentled his touch, his tongue lapping softly at her sensitive flesh as she rode out the waves of pleasure.

He pulled back, pressing tender kisses to her trembling thighs. "You're so pretty when you cum," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "The way you shake, the sounds you make... it's the hottest thing I've ever seen."

Y/n whimpered, her body still twitching with aftershocks. Carlos' words, combined with the feeling of his lips on her skin, sent a fresh surge of arousal through her.

"More," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need more, Carlos. Please..."

Carlos trailed kisses up Y/n's body, leaving a trail of hickies in his wake. He nipped at her neck, his teeth grazing her pulse point. "Can you take more, mi amor?" he growled, his voice low and husky. "You're already shaking so much..."

Y/n whimpered, her body trembling with need. "Yes," she gasped, her nails raking down his back. "I need more, Carlos. Please, I can take it. I want it all."

Carlos grinned, a wicked gleam in his eye. "As you wish," he purred, his hand sliding down to palm her ass. "But first..."

He captured her mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep, claiming her, tasting himself on her lips. Y/n moaned into the kiss, her tongue tangling with his, her body arching into his touch.

Carlos' hand slid from Y/n's ass to her lower back, his fingers tracing teasing patterns on her skin. "The panties would look pretty with that buttplug I got you," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "You know, the one with the pink heart gem?"

Y/n nodded, a shiver running through her at the mention of the toy. "I was planning to use it soon," she admitted, her voice breathy with anticipation.

Carlos smiled, a wicked glint in his eye. "It's such a shame though," he purred, his fingers dipping lower, teasing the cleft of her ass. "I already ripped the panties."

Y/n gasped, her hips bucking involuntarily at the touch. "Carlos," she whimpered, her voice a mix of need and frustration. "You're such a tease."

"All part of the fun, mi amor," he chuckled, his fingers continuing their maddening dance. "Now, where did I put that thing?"

Y/n pointed to the nightstand beside the bed. "I think it's in there," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "Your side."

Carlos released her, rolling over to rummage through the drawer. He pulled out the pink heart-shaped buttplug, holding it up triumphantly. "Found it," he grinned, crawling back over to Y/n.

He ran the smooth metal over her lips, letting her taste the cold surface. "Open up, baby," he instructed, pressing the tip to her mouth. "Get it nice and wet for me."

Y/n parted her lips, taking the buttplug into her mouth. She sucked on it, her tongue swirling around the base, coating it liberally with saliva.

Y/n looked up at Carlos through her lashes, her eyes wide and innocent, the buttplug still nestled between her lips. She sucked on it slowly, sensually, her cheeks hollowing as she applied suction.

"Fuck, you're so cute," Carlos groaned, his cock twitching in his pants at the sight. "Such a good girl, getting your toy all wet for me."

He reached out, cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing over her plump bottom lip. "That's enough, mi amor," he murmured, gently withdrawing the buttplug from her mouth. "Time to put it to better use."

Y/n whimpered softly, her eyes following the movement of the toy as Carlos positioned it at her entrance. He pressed the tip against her, applying gentle pressure, watching her face intently for any sign of discomfort.

Y/n moaned as she felt the cool metal of the buttplug pressing against her sensitive skin. Carlos watched her face intently, gauging her reaction as he slowly pushed the toy inside her.

"That's it, baby," he crooned, his voice low and encouraging. "Just relax and let it in. You're doing so well."

She continued to whimper, her hands fisting in the sheets as the buttplug stretched her, filling her in a way she hadn't experienced before. It was a strange sensation, but not an unpleasant one, and as Carlos twisted the base, the pink heart-shaped jewel nestled snugly between her cheeks.

"There," he said, satisfaction evident in his tone. "Don't you look pretty with your new toy."

Carlos helped Y/n onto her hands and knees, admiring the way her ass jutted out, the buttplug nestled snugly between her cheeks. He ran his hands over her curves, spreading her open, exposing her most intimate parts.

"Can I take a picture, mi amor?" he asked, his voice husky with desire. "I want to remember this moment forever."

Y/n hesitated, a blush spreading across her cheeks. "Mhm," she murmured, nodding shyly. "But... but don't show anyone, okay?"

Carlos chuckled, pressing a tender kiss to the small of her back. "Of course not, baby," he assured her. "These pictures are for me and me only to enjoy."

He grabbed his phone, snapping a few shots from various angles, capturing Y/n in all her vulnerable, exposed glory. Each click of the shutter sent a thrill through him, the knowledge that he was the only one who would ever see these images, that he had her complete trust.

Carlos groaned, his eyes roaming over Y/n's exposed body. "Fuck, you're so pretty baby," he growled, his voice thick with desire.

He quickly shed his shorts and boxers, his hard cock springing free, bobbing between his legs. He moved behind Y/n, gripping her hips, holding her in place as he teased the tip of his cock against her entrance.

He rubbed it back and forth, catching on her clit with each pass, making her gasp and shudder. "Look at you," he purred, his fingers digging into her hips. "So wet and ready for me. I can't wait to be inside you."

Y/n whimpered, pushing back against him, desperate for more. Carlos chuckled darkly, continuing his maddening tease, keeping her on edge, making her ache for his touch.

She panted, her hips wiggling back against Carlos. "Carlos, I want more," she pleaded, her voice high and needy.

Carlos smiled, pushing just the tip of his cock inside her. Y/n moaned, her walls fluttering around him, trying to draw him deeper.

"That's it, baby," Carlos purred, reaching around to wiggle the buttplug. Y/n cried out, her body shaking as the toy shifted inside her, sending sparks of pleasure racing up her spine.

Even with just the tip inside her, Y/n was moaning like she was in a porno, her body responding to every touch, every tease. Carlos grinned, loving the effect he had on her, the way he could reduce her to a writhing, desperate mess with just a few well-placed touches.

Carlos grabbed a fistful of Y/n's hair, pulling it back into a makeshift ponytail. "This pretty mouth of yours needs to shut up this time around, okay?" he growled, his voice low and commanding. "You were so loud earlier, we already had noise complaints last week because of you."

He reached for her ripped panties, balling them up and pressing them into her mouth. Y/n's eyes widened, a muffled whimper escaping her as he tied the fabric around her head, effectively gagging her.

"There," Carlos purred, admiring his handiwork. "Now you can scream all you want, and no one will hear you."

He lined himself up, the head of his cock nudging against her entrance. With one hard thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, stretching her, filling her completely.

Y/n's muffled moan was music to his ears, her body clenching around him, welcoming him home.

Y/n's back arched as Carlos filled her, her fingers digging into the pillow in front of her. Despite the gag, her moans were still loud, her pleasure evident in the way her body moved, the way she rocked back against him.

"Shh, baby," Carlos chided, his hand coming down on her ass in a gentle spank. "Be quiet now."

He repeated the action, alternating cheeks, the sting of his palm mixing with the pleasure of his cock inside her. Y/n whimpered, her hips jerking with each impact, her moans muffled but no less intense.

Carlos grinned, loving the way she responded to him, the way she surrendered to his touch, his control. He continued his steady rhythm, pounding into her, his balls slapping against her clit with each thrust.

Carlos looked down, groaning at the sight of Y/n's pussy, so wet and stretched around him. "Fuck, you're taking me so well, baby," he grunted, his hips snapping forward, driving into her harder.

His hand found the buttplug, wiggling it, teasing her. He pushed it halfway out, then twisted it, pushing it back in, making Y/n's body jerk and shudder.

"That's it, take it all," he growled, his voice rough with pleasure. "Take my cock, take the plug, let me fill you up."

Y/n whimpered, her body trembling, torn between the pleasure and the slight discomfort of being so full. But Carlos didn't let up, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate, as he chased his own release.

Carlos cooed softly, his voice a stark contrast to the intensity of his thrusts. "So cute, baby," he murmured, reaching around to pinch Y/n's nipples, rolling them between his fingers. "You always look so pretty in pink."

He punctuated his words with a particularly hard thrust, burying himself deep inside her. Y/n's body jerked, a muffled moan escaping her as the buttplug shifted, pressing against her walls.

Carlos grinned, loving the way she looked, the way she felt, the way she responded to him. He could feel his own release approaching, his balls tightening, his cock throbbing inside her.

"Gonna cum," he grunted, his hips slapping against her ass as he chased his pleasure. "Gonna fill you up, baby. Fuck, you feel so good."

Y/n's body was weak, her muscles trembling with the effort of holding herself up, of taking Carlos' relentless thrusts. But fuck, it felt so good, the pleasure consuming her, overwhelming her senses.

She moaned around the panties in her mouth, the sound muffled but no less desperate, no less needy. Her pussy clenched around Carlos' cock, her walls fluttering, trying to draw him deeper, hold him closer.

Carlos could feel her tightening around him, could hear the desperation in her moans. He knew she was close, could feel her body tensing, preparing for release.

"That's it, baby," he growled, his hand snaking around to rub her clit. "Cum for me. Let go, let me feel you."

Y/n's body seized, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. She shook and trembled, her moans rising in pitch, her pussy clamping down on Carlos' cock like a vice.

Carlos groaned, his hips stuttering as he found his own release. "Fuck, baby," he grunted, his cock pulsing inside her as he filled her with his cum. "You're taking it so well."

He collapsed over her, his chest pressing against her back, his arms wrapping around her waist. They stayed like that for a moment, both panting, both trying to catch their breath.

Slowly, carefully, Carlos pulled out, watching as his cum dripped from Y/n's pussy. He reached for the buttplug, gently removing it, tossing it aside.

"You did so good, mi amor," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to her shoulder. "I'm so proud of you."

Y/n turned in Carlos' arms, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I want more," she whispered, her eyes dark with desire.

Carlos grinned, his hand sliding down to cup her ass. "Anal?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

Y/n bit her lip, nodding shyly. "Yes," she breathed, her body already trembling with anticipation. "I want to try it, with you."

Carlos' grin widened, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Are you sure, baby?" he asked, his tone gentle despite his eagerness. "We can take it slow, go at your pace."

Y/n nodded, her resolve strengthening. "I'm sure," she said, her voice steady. "I trust you, Carlos. I know you'll take care of me."

Carlos guided Y/n to sit on his lap, her back pressed against his chest, her legs spread wide. "I'll take the plug out," he murmured, his fingers trailing over her skin. "And I'll help you, every step of the way."

Y/n nodded, leaning back into him, trusting him completely. Carlos reached between her legs, his fingers finding the base of the buttplug. Slowly, gently, he pulled it out, the metal sliding free with a soft pop.

She moaned, her body clenching at the sudden emptiness. Carlos soothed her with soft kisses to her neck, his hands rubbing her thighs. "Shh, I've got you," he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. "We'll go slow, just relax."

He reached for the lube, slicking his fingers generously. "Tell me if anything hurts, okay?" he said, his tone serious. "Your comfort is the most important thing."

Carlos circled Y/n's entrance with a slick finger, gently pressing in, breaching her slowly. Y/n whimpered, her body tensing at the unfamiliar intrusion.

"Breathe, baby," Carlos coached, his other hand rubbing soothing circles on her stomach. "Relax for me."

He worked his finger deeper, curling it slightly, searching for that special spot. When he found it, Y/n cried out, her hips bucking involuntarily.

"There," Carlos purred, rubbing the spot firmly. "Does that feel good?"

Y/n nodded frantically, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "Yes," she gasped, her voice strained. "It's so intense, but so good- Fuck..."

Carlos added a second finger, stretching her slowly, preparing her for his cock. He scissored them, gently, carefully, watching her face for any signs of pain or discomfort.

Carlos continued his gentle ministrations, his fingers moving in and out of Y/n's tight heat, curling and stroking, finding all the sensitive spots that made her gasp and moan. He kissed her neck, her jaw, her lips, murmuring words of praise and encouragement.

"You're doing so well, baby," he whispered, his thumb brushing over her clit. "Taking me so perfectly. I'm so proud of you."

Y/n whimpered, her body trembling under his touch, under his words. She felt so full, so stretched, but it was a good ache, a pleasure she'd never known before.

Carlos could tell she was getting close, her walls fluttering around his fingers, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He doubled his efforts, his fingers pumping faster, harder, his thumb rubbing tight circles on her clit.

"Cum for me, mi amor," he commanded, his voice low and rough with desire. "Let go, let me see you cum"

Y/n's body seized, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. She whimpered and moaned, her hips bucking wildly, her inner walls clamping down on Carlos' fingers.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chanted, her voice high and breathy. "Oh god, Carlos, it's so much, it's too much-"

Her words dissolved into incoherent babble as the pleasure consumed her, her body shaking and trembling in Carlos' arms. He held her tight, his fingers still moving inside her, drawing out her climax, making it last as long as possible.

"That's it, baby," he crooned, his lips brushing her ear. "Ride it out, let it take you. You're doing so fucking well."

Carlos gently turned Y/n's face towards him, his eyes locked on hers. "Look down, baby," he instructed softly. "See? It's all the way in."

Y/n's gaze followed his, her eyes widening as she saw the slight bulge of Carlos' cock inside her, stretching her, filling her completely. "I feel so full," she whispered, her voice awestruck. "I can feel you everywhere."

Carlos grinned, his hands sliding up her sides, cupping her breasts. "That's because you're taking me so perfectly," he praised, his thumbs brushing over her nipples. "Every inch of you is wrapped around me, squeezing me, hugging me tight."

Y/n moaned, her hips shifting slightly, the movement sending sparks of pleasure racing through her. "It's so big," she breathed, her eyes fluttering closed. "But it feels so good, Carlos. So right."

Carlos couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight of Y/n riding him, her body moving with a wild abandon, her eyes filled with nothing but pure, unadulterated lust. Her hair was a mess, falling gracefully over one shoulder, her tits bouncing with each thrust, her mouth open, drool leaking from the corner.

She was a vision, a goddess, and she was all his.

Carlos gripped her hips tighter, his fingers digging into her flesh, guiding her movements, helping her chase her pleasure. He watched as her body tensed, her walls clamping down around him, her moans rising in pitch.

"That's it, baby," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Ride me, take what you need. Fuck, you look so beautiful like this, so perfect, so mine."

Y/n's body shook, her movements becoming more erratic, more desperate. She was close, so close, teetering on the edge of oblivion.

Her body tensed, her movements becoming more frantic, more desperate. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," she gasped, her voice strained, her eyes wild with pleasure.

Carlos could feel her tightening around him, her walls fluttering, clenching, trying to draw him deeper. "Keep going, baby," he urged, his hips snapping up to meet her downward thrusts. "Let go, cum for me. I've got you, I'm right here."

Y/n threw her head back, a silent scream tearing from her throat as her orgasm crashed over her. Her body shook, her pussy clamping down on Carlos' cock like a vice, milking him, trying to pull him over the edge with her.

Carlos groaned, his own release building, his balls tightening, his cock throbbing inside her. "Fuck, baby," he grunted, his hips stuttering, his rhythm faltering. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna fill you up, fuck-"

As their orgasms crashed over them, Y/n's body spasmed, her movements becoming jerky, uncoordinated. She fell forward, her chest pressing against Carlos', her face nestling into the crook of his neck.

Carlos' arms wrapped around her, holding her close, his cock still buried deep inside her, throbbing with the aftershocks of his release. "I've got you, baby," he murmured, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. "I'm here, I'm right here."

They stayed like that for a long moment, their bodies joined, their hearts beating in sync. Carlos pressed soft kisses to Y/n's hair, her forehead, her cheek, murmuring words of love and praise.

"You did so well, mi amor," he whispered, his voice low and tender. "You took me so perfectly, gave me everything. I love you so much, Y/n. So fucking much."

taglist

for all posts; @nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore @nitiii @livsturnioloo

kinktober taglist; @cloud-55 @emryb @sie17136 @jaimeleannavanlloman @wosof1 @wholetmewritethat @glitterbitch1 @under-seasoned-pasta @sinners-98-world @lewishamiltonismybf @lilorose25 @zestytimbit

[hiraethwrote]

contents : f!reader, containts spoilers, character death, mom!reader (has a son), dealing with loss, angst/slight comfort?, bittersweet, no use of y/n wc 1k an : idk what this is, but i just really love satoru and feel sentimental about him... i am not very happy with it but it's something

“mama, i don’t remember this!”

when you turn to look up, you’re staring directly at a photo you have not seen in a long time. once it sinks in just what picture it is you’re looking at, a soft smile grows on your face before meeting your son’s gaze.

no wonder he was confused, because the slightly crinkled picture he had managed to find wasn’t of him, despite the kid being nearly identical to himself. had it not been for the fact that you knew it wasn’t your son who was staring back at you on the piece of paper, it would have fooled you too.

“‘s because it’s not you, sweetheart,” you smile. “come here,” he doesn’t hesitate to scatter over with tiny steps, before you gently lift him into your lap, resting your head on his shoulder as you look at the picture together.

you had nearly forgotten the picture even existed, hid away with other tokens of your late love.

it was a rather simple picture, one from when satoru was just a child, long before you had the privilege of loving him. standing straight and proud, a young satoru was smiling at you, a toothless grin stretching so far across his face that his eyes were squeezed shut.

“it’s your daddy,” you sigh as your son leans back against you. “i think he’s a little older here than you are know.”

“he looks just like me!” excitement carrying his words.

and he did. same tufts of white hair that were always sticking in every direction. same warm smile that greeted everyone he encountered. same kind eyes that never lied.

“do you miss him?”

you turn to look at him, meeting familiar blue eyes you used to get lost in for hours on end. “every day,” you say simply, a sad smile painting your lips.

never letting your eyes leave your son’s face, you notice how his eyebrows narrow slightly and he turns his attention back to the photo. “i wish i met him.”

“me too, baby.” it came out quiet as a whisper, leaning forward to press a soft peck at his temple. “but he’s not gone gone.”

“what do you mean not gone gone?”

“well,” taking a deep breath, sensing how your eyes slowly started to turn glossy with tears. “he lives on in me, in my memory,” you say softly. “and in you,” grabbing his soft cheeks and rubbing your nose against his, causing a delightful little giggle to fill the space. “and all around.”

“all around?” he asks, the confused line between his brows deepening.

“i like to think so. for example, on sunny days i am sure he’s in the sunlight that kisses your skin, keeping you warm and safe. and you know when the wind is blowing so loud we hear it in the walls?”

“mhm,” he nods enthusiastically.

“i’m sure that’s your dad talking,” you laugh a little to yourself. “my god, how he used to talk. all the time.”

you keep looking for at the picture, reminding you of a time where you were able to enjoy the privilege of his strong arms around you, protecting you from any potential harm. it always amazed you, that despite everything he was put through, he was still soft and kind — truly one of his many brilliant qualities that he hadn’t let the world that was so cruel to him, tarnish him completely.

“he’s also in the rain,” you say, your voice falling back to a whisper when he turns to look at you again. you capture his eyes, trying to force a smile as his big eyes stare back at you with such curiosity. “you know how you’ve sometimes seen mommy just stand outside when it’s raining?” he nods. “i miss your dad more than anything, and it makes me sad sometimes. so when it rains, i like to go outside and feel the little droplets hit my face. i thinks it’s how he shows me he is still here, comforting me. sharing my pain so i don’t feel it on my own.”

you don’t even notice the shy tear that has rolled down your cheek until he reaches his small hand to gently wipe it away. “i don’t want you to be sad,” his voice is so full of compassion, wondering how such a small person could have such a big heart — he got that from satoru too.

“it’s okay to be sad sometimes,” you assure him. “it just proves that all i felt for your dad was real.”

he doesn’t seem to understand it fully, but you can’t blame him. he’s still just a kid after all. but as time pass, he'll grow up, it will all eventually make sense to him.

“mama?”

“yes, baby?”

“you’ve said before you talk to him.”

“yeah, all the time.”

“you think i can talk to him too?” your lips instantly start to tremble in an unsteady smile.

you nod slowly before pulling him closer, pressing your cheek against his. “of course! i think he would be happy to hear you talking to him.”

“where do you think he is now?” the loaded question comes out so innocently, unable to stop how you huff a breath, trying to find the right words that would give an answer a child could comprehend.

“i don’t know,” you said honestly, “but wherever he is, i hope he’s resting. that’s the least he deserves.”

with his eyes on the picture again, he gently wiggles out of your arms. his kindness steers his hand to dry more of your tears, again causing your lips to curve into a small smile.

“if it’s okay, i think i’m going to go talk to dad.”

“say hi to him from me, okay?” he nods, flashing you a grin similar to the one satoru bore in the picture in your hands. and he runs off into the garden, standing in the exact spot you so often find yourself in.

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[gilbertscurls]

holaa i got request that like 7 mins vids of chris and reader being in love but they are bsf like some fan did vid showing moments chris and reader do that shows their love to eachother

hope you like it!! <3

also, i think i've seen a similar story somewhere, so credits to the original

7 Minutes of Chris and Y/N Being in Love ➵ Chris Sturniolo

You stumbled upon the video late one night, alone in your room with the glow of your phone casting soft shadows across the walls. It was titled “7 Minutes of Chris and Y/N Being in Love But Not Admitting It”, posted by one of the Sturniolo Triplets’ most dedicated fans. Curious, you clicked on it, not quite ready for the trip down memory lane.

The video started with a soft piano tune, and each moment was introduced by a little title. You held your breath as the first clip began.

1. “The Hoodie Thing”

The video opened with a scene from a casual vlog, probably from a random day where the four of you had just been hanging out. The camera was set up on the counter, capturing Chris as he talked animatedly about something or another. In the middle of his story, he looked over and spotted you wrapped up in his hoodie. You saw his mouth twitch in that familiar way as he tried to keep his composure, but his cheeks betrayed him, turning just a bit pink.

“Is that mine?” he asked, pretending to be annoyed, though the sparkle in his eyes told a different story.

You shrugged, smiling as you hugged the hoodie tighter. “You left it here. Finders, keepers.”

The fan had zoomed in on his face just then, catching the soft expression he wore as he looked at you, that look he always gave when he thought you weren’t watching.

2. “The Arm Thing”

The next clip was from one of their prank videos, where Nick had decided to try scaring you by hiding behind the door. The plan went off without a hitch; you’d jumped in fright, letting out a little squeal. The moment Chris heard it, he stepped in close, putting an arm around your shoulders, almost instinctively, like a protective reflex.

“Are you okay?” he asked, not even giving Nick the satisfaction of a laugh.

You laughed, brushing it off, but Chris kept his arm around you for the rest of the video. The fan had added a heart overlay on that moment, making it all the more obvious to anyone watching that this wasn’t just a casual gesture. It was his way of telling you, without words, that he’d always be there to protect you.

3. “The Way He Looks At Her”

This cutscene played moments from several videos stitched together: every time Chris’s gaze lingered on you a little longer than necessary, his eyes softening, or the way his face would light up whenever you walked into the room.

One clip was from a road trip vlog where Nick had asked you a question, and you’d gone off on a tangent, laughing at your own story. The fan had slowed down the footage as Chris watched you, his smile widening with every word you spoke. They’d even added text overlay: Look at the way he smiles at her.

And there it was—that undeniable, heart-melting look that said so much more than words ever could.

4. “The Hand Thing”

The screen faded to another clip, this time from a Q&A the triplets had done with you sitting behind Chris. He’d been laughing at something Matt said, his hand reaching back to rest on yours almost absentmindedly. You’d barely registered it, but the fans clearly had, picking up on the way his fingers subtly intertwined with yours.

At one point, you noticed and looked down, a slight blush coloring your cheeks. But Chris didn’t pull away; he just squeezed your hand gently, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

The fan had zoomed in here, highlighting the way his thumb rubbed small circles on your hand, creating a moment that had clearly been noticed by everyone but you two.

5. “Little Things He Remembers”

This section showed clips where Chris would mention something small about you, things you didn’t even realize he’d picked up on. In one of the videos, you’d talked about a favorite candy that you hadn’t had in years, and a month later, in a different video, Chris had surprised you with it.

Your face had lit up, and the fan had looped Chris’s shy smile when he saw your reaction. Then came another clip from a Christmas gift exchange vlog, where he’d somehow known exactly what to get you—a rare vinyl record you’d been looking for forever.

As you hugged him in gratitude, the fan captioned it: he remembers the little things.

6. “The Almost Kiss”

This was the clip that made you catch your breath. It was from a few weeks back, a late night when you and Chris had been filming a random vlog in his room. He’d been teasing you about something, and you’d leaned in to swat his shoulder, both of you laughing.

But then there was that moment—a pause—where your faces were just inches apart, his gaze locked on yours, and everything had gone quiet. You could almost feel the unspoken words hanging in the air, the what if.

The fan had zoomed in, adding a soft overlay to heighten the tension, and you watched yourself look up at him, eyes wide, both of you caught in that heart-stopping second. His face had softened, and he’d opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but then he’d pulled away, laughing to break the tension.

The screen faded to black as the fan added one final caption: maybe one day.

You stared at the end screen, your heart racing. You’d felt all those moments before, lingering on the edges of your friendship with Chris, but seeing them compiled like this left you breathless. Your mind raced back to that last clip, to the almost kiss. What would have happened if he hadn’t laughed it off? If you hadn’t pulled away?

Just as you were lost in thought, your phone buzzed with a text from Chris.

Chris: Yo, did you see this vid someone made of us? LMAO they really think we’re in love or something 😂

You felt a rush of nerves, unsure of how to respond.

You: Haha yeah, just saw it… it’s kinda cute though, don’t you think?

There was a pause, longer than usual, and you held your breath, waiting.

Chris: Yeah… kinda cute.

Chris: Listen, about that one clip… you know the one I’m talking about, right?

You: Yeah. I know.

Chris: What if I said I wasn’t just acting for the camera?

Your heart skipped a beat. You could almost picture him, staring down at his phone, wondering if he’d said too much. But something told you it was time to finally say the words that had been on the tip of your tongue for years.

You: Then I’d say… me neither.

It was a simple exchange, a confession years in the making, and yet somehow, that was all it took.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash

[random2908]

Iowa has historically been a swing state! It went for Obama both times! It went for Gore in 2000, Clinton both times, and even was one of the few states to vote for Dukakis in 1988. In other words, in the past 36 years, it's only gone red three times.

More seriously, there are three big possibilities here.

The first, and possibly most likely, is that this poll is--unfortunately--just wrong. Selzer is reputed to be a high-quality pollster, but her polls tend to be pretty small; and so no matter how good she is, she's going to get wrong results sometimes.

The second possibility is that opinion is swinging really fast in Harris's favor this past week, and this reflects a real change in people's opinions.

The third, and most likely, possibility is what's called "bias". This isn't bias like it's used in common English. This is the data analysis sense of bias: something wasn't taken into account, so all of your results are offset in one direction or another.

What's interesting about the bias hypothesis, though, is there are so many ways it can go. Are people embarrassed to say they're Trump voters, so you undercount them? Are the people more likely to vote for Harris less likely to answer polls, so you undercount them? Are pollsters trying to take these things into account in their data analysis and accidentally going too far? Not far enough? So many possibilities, so many explanations, and we won't know until the election.

But. There's an interesting source of bias that Nate Silver brings up about once per election: herding. A poll comes out, and all the other pollsters are like, "Ok, this is the TRUTH. So anything I get that isn't similar to this must be bias." So then they reanalyze their data with this "bias" in mind, and then when they publish their poll results, their results look very similar to the previous poll. This is thought to be especially likely to happen if the previous poll showed an even split, because for some reason people tend to think that's a "fair" result so it must be true.

The pollsters can't help but put their fingers on the scales, because they KNOW bias is a thing they have to watch out for in their weighing of results. But they don't know what the bias is that they have to counteract in their weighting. So all they have left is their bias--in the regular English sense! their personal beliefs and assumptions--to counteract the technical bias. And there's no reason to think that's right, either, but what else are they going to do. The result may be that they tend to predict elections are going to be closer than they are, because they believe that's "fair" and "normal".

And then here a completely different poll comes out from a very trusted pollster, and maybe she's right. Or, maybe she just adjusted her biases differently in a way that was equally irrational. (Her claim is actually that she does a lot less bias adjustment than most other pollsters. Which is interesting, because you wouldn't think that's necessarily a good approach--after all, polls miss entire demographics of voters. And anyway, a lot less isn't none. That said, as a scientist, I agree: when you know, go ahead and subtract out all the biases; but when in doubt, it's always better to analyze less.)

In the end, though, whatever the answer is, we won't know until the election.

Reports are coming out that Harris is leading in Iowa.

So what does this mean for Iowa voters?

Iowa was red in 2020 and has historically been red. As someone who lives in AZ, a red state that is now a swing state, it is entirely possible to flip a state or at least make the Republican Party sweat. So if you are in Iowa and were considering not voting because “your vote won’t count in a red state anyways”, please get out and vote.

Obviously polls can be inaccurate, but how great would it be if we could flip a state that republicans considered an easy victory?

Iowa also allows same day in person registration!!! So if you are over 18 and a U.S. citizen who resides in Iowa it is not too late! Click here for info on voting in Iowa: https://voterready.iowa.gov/registertovote/

Link to article: https://www.desmoinesregister.com/story/news/politics/iowa-poll/2024/11/02/iowa-poll-kamala-harris-leads-donald-trump-2024-presidential-race/75354033007/

[nativegirltapes]

trailerpark!mom!reader was just trying to go out to her favorite local bar when she met drew ........

warnings: i don’t think obx is actually filmed in outer banks but for this fic yes it is. this is basically just lots of dialogue but i’m just trying to fill in tp!mom!reader and drew’s lore. drew being tipsy + corniness & cliches

"we are getting fucked up tonight." your bestfriend shouted. it was thursday, which meant it was 'going out' night. your baby was safe with your sister, and you were in the passenger seat of your bestfriend's 2009 honda civic adjusting final touches to your makeup in the passenger seat mirror. "i fucking hope so. jason has been blowing up my phone all week, threatening to come steal baby." you applied another layer of lipgloss.

"are you fucking serious?" aubrey questioned, looking at you with loving eyes. even though you brought the topic up so casually, she knew it hurt you. "i love you." she branched her arms out over the car console, you accepted her embrace. "now let's get fucked up!" she gave you a kiss on your head. no one had ever made you feel as loved as she did.

ᡣ𐭩˙⋆.˚

"sorry ladies," your usual bouncer stopped you and aubrey, "bars closed tonight. some cast rented it out."

"what?" you realized he wasn't joking. "what cast?" you furrowed your brows, wondering who the fuck would rent out a bar in the middle of nowhere, north carolina. "don't know, some show that's filmed here though."

"you can't just let us in?" you bestfriend proposed. "we know we're you're favorite. cmonnnn." the bouncer giggled, you guys definitely were his favorite, but unfortunately he wouldn't budge. "i wish there was something i could do. sorry girls."

"it's okay." you sighed, grabbing aubrey by her arm and dragging her to the side. she was one to cause a scene and you weren't in the mood to deal with that right now. "this is bullshit." she groaned. "i bet they're rich. rich people always ruining some shit for normal people like us." she circled around you. "can't even enjoy our thursday night anymore."

"it's okay, we can go somewhere else."

"you wanna get in?" an unfamiliar voice interrupted, before you could yank aubrey back to the car. both of you jolting your heads towards the voice. it was a tall pale man, a lit cigarette hung from his lips.

"yeah, can you get us in?" aubrey took no time taking up the offer, interrupting the prolonged eye contact you were sharing with this guy; he was cute and that was hard to find around here. "this way." he tossed his unfinished cigarette in the floor and stomped on it.

"thank you." you said as he held the door for you. as soon as you entered the bar you realized that maybe you really didn't belong there. thursday's usually had a solid crowd, and a familiar one at that. but there wasn't one familiar face aside from yours or your bestfriend's. "shit." you mumbled under your breath, the guy who let you in now long gone, entertaining a group of who you assumed were his friends.

finding a seat at the bar with aubrey, you asked the bartender what the deal was, "so, what's going on?" he poured you your usual. "some netflix cast rented out the bar for the night. outer banks or something?"

“oh, i’ve heard that show.” you replied, trying your best to discreetly look around, seeing if you seen any famous faces from tv, although you didn’t watch much tv. “i didn’t think they actually filmed that here?”

“me neither,” the bartender agreed, before leaving you and aubrey to tend to another person.

you watched as people danced, they all seemed well bonded, almost like family. you giggled at them, hoping one day you’d find a bond like that. you spotted the guy who had let you in, he danced pretty okay for a white guy. “should we dance?” you turned back to aubrey, practically shouting over the loud music.

“why are you even asking?” aubrey laughed, you knew her better than to ask if she wanted to dance, she was always down to dance.

you both danced together as ‘yeah!’ by usher played over the speakers, before you both had roaming hands all over you. you felt big hands wrap around lower stomach, “was hoping i’d come across you again.” a somewhat familiar voice whispered in your ear. you kept your back and ass to him, but turned your head to see his face, selfishly hoping it was the man who’d let you in, relief washed over you when you realized it was. “i was thinking the same thing.” you flirted.

“oh yeah?” he whispered in your ear again. the way he had lean down to reach your ear had your stomach doing flips. “why’s that?” you noticed his breath smelled of liquor and mint.

“i wanted to thank you again.” you answered, pushing your ass even closer to his crotch. flirting with men at the bar definitely was not foreign to you. “you don’t have to thank me. anyone would have let a pretty girl like you in.” he spun you around so you were facing him. “there’s that face.” he smiled, his bloodshot and droopy eyes staring down at you like you were the only girl to ever exist. this felt too intimate for your liking.

“so, why’re you here?” you grabbed his hands from your waist, just holding them with your own, you both still feeling the rhythm of the music playing. “you’re famous or something?”

“something like that i guess.” he shrugged, like he didn’t really want to talk about it. “why are you here?”

“i live here.” you said confused, wondering if he has expected a different answer. “i don’t want to sound like a creep, but you’re like, insanely beautiful.” his lips grazed your ear as he whispered to you. you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol talking or if he actually meant it, but nonetheless you were flattered. a sexy— famous guy saying you were insanely beautiful?

“thank you.” you blushed, pulling your jean skirt down. usually you were good at playing a man’s game but this time felt different. this time felt like something could actually come from this and you hated it.

after some more ramble jamble on the dance floor, the mysterious man asked if you wanted to go outside. “wanna step outside for a minute with me?” he extended his hand, you accepted.

you watched as he lit a cigarette. it seemed like every ounce of outgoingness left your body, you loved talking to and entertaining men, but he just made you flat out nervous. “so you’re from around here?” he offered you a swig of his cig, you declined.

“yeah, just down the street. me and my bestfriend come here every thursday.” you watched his lips as he took a swig, the way his eyebrows furrowed from the smoke was hot. you hated people who smoked but there you were getting turned on over it.

“sorry about that again. i seen the whole fiasco with the bouncer.” he looked down at you. “i mean it’s not your fault.” you reassured him.

“sorry i never asked. what’s your name?” his voice seemed so much deeper and clear now that you two were outside, almost like he was fully sober. it made you question how drunk he actually was, and how much of what you told you he actually meant. “y/n!”

“i’m drew.” he held his hand out, you shook it. his hands was so much bigger than yours. matter of fact, everything about him was so much bigger than you.

before you could question drew and his ‘famousness’ any further you heard his group yelling his name. they were all getting into a limo. how famous were these people? they needed a limo? but you couldn’t recognize literally any of their faces? “i guess that’s me.” drew again, flicked his unfinished cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. “what’s your number y/n?” he pulled out his phone and pulled up the keypad.

you swiftly put in your number and called yourself. you never gave your phone number away to the men you entertained, it was your own personal rule you set for yourself. but something about this one was different and you just couldn’t say no. “i’ll see you around y/n.”

[daphwritesworld]

Chapter 1— For The First Time.

a/n: welcome to the Be My Baby series! i’m super excited to get started and work on this story! I’m thinking of publishing 2/3 chapters weekly if I can, but at least 1 will always come out. If additional ones are on the way i’ll make sure to update that on my upcoming post. thank you for your support and happy reading < 3

(p.s. sorry I didn't proof read this lol. I will later and edit any details that need touching up. This is already a few hours late tho, so I want to go ahead and get it out.)

content: Top!Leah, Bottom!Reader, bed humping, fingering (r receiving), teasing, talks of shoe humping, spit play, talks of previous sexual encounters, brewing sexual tension, and masturbation (both)

warnings: allusions to heavy dom/sub relationship, talks of injury, Leah busting her ass at practice, Leah making a fool of herself when she’s in shock, flirty!Leah deserves a warning on its own so here you go, calling reader a bitch & slutty once in a dominating way, semi-public sex, almost getting caught by Alessia, Leah accidentally knocking you on your ass lol

synopsis: You've arrived to your first day at Arsenal; your new club for the foreseeable future as head Athletic Trainer. A new country with promises of a new start awaits for you...until a familiar face disrupts your plans and throws you head first into a whirlwind of emotions and actions.

word count: 3.4k

!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥♠♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The crisp air of Shenley lites a whispered chill to cover you as you step out of the taxi. You pay the driver, wishing him a good day as you collect your bags from the cab. A deep breath makes its way from your chest and out your lips, gathering your bearings as you finally start to make your way inside. This is going to be a fresh start in a place no one knows you– exactly what you need. No expectations to meet or lingering gazes on and off the pitch. No drama or gossip floating around or eating lunch by yourself. Things are going to be different here.

You take in the scenery as you approach the Sobha Realty Training Centre, your new place of employment. The building feels like it’s going to swallow you, the tall white walls reminding you of the hospital as a familiar churn starts to turn in your stomach.

Breathe. Everything is going to be fine.

Your hand comes up to open the door, but it’s pulled from your grasp. You look up, eyes meeting a warm smile and kind eyes. You relax at her appearance, and even more at her friendly approach, “Hi, I’m Alessia! You must be Y/N, I assume?”

You find yourself mirroring her smile, a hand coming out to shake hers. “Yes, it’s lovely to meet you, Alessia! Sorry I’m late– I got lost and then I just ended up taking a taxi….London is a lot bigger than I expected…” you trail off as you realize you're rambling. Embarrassment sinking in as you look down to the floor.

“You’re totally fine! I think we all got lost on our first day, haha. That’s why I’m here to show you around, this place is huge when you don’t know it. Now follow me, new girl!” and just like that, she’s showing you everywhere possible. She shows you the cafeteria, weight rooms, bathrooms, locker rooms, and just about every tiny place to hide if you need a moment to yourself.

“I don’t mean to sound rude– but shouldn’t you be out on the field training with the others? Showing me around can’t possibly be more important with the Euro Finals coming up,” you say as you arrange your med bag for practice. The rest of your things are now stored in your brand new Arsenal locker you were shown, your name enraged into the gold plate marking your future. She laughs at that, pointing down towards her ankle that you now see is wrapped up. “Sprained it a week ago, so i’m benched. Swelling is still up so Coach won’t let me play on it yet, not even at practice.”

A laugh now comes out of you at her frustrated tone near the end. “Well, I have to agree. Until the swelling and all pain is gone you need to let it properly heal. We don’t need you hurting it worse!”

You feel a shove to your shoulder at that, zipping up your pack as you turn towards her now.

“Spoken like the true new head AT! See you're falling into place here already,” You give a shove back to her shoulder. Careful to do it lightly and not push her off balance with her injury. “Ready to meet the girls?”

You let out a sigh before nodding your head, “If they're all as nice as you I think I’ll be just fine.” And then you two are off, Alessia leading the way to your new team. You can feel your hands sweating as you get closer to the field in sight. All the girls training, the coaches, the other medical trainers under your watch…it’s all facing you at once as the past leaves your mind step by step. Like the shedding of skin on a snake, you're letting your anxieties fall from you as your passion for the job kicks back in. Like a flicker of flame– just waiting to ignite higher.

Your confidence is gaining with every blade of grass that passes beneath your feet. You know you're good at this. Hell you’re fucking amazing at this. Not many trainers could switch clubs– let alone countries for said club, in the middle of a season and still be Head AT…but you are that good. No matter what might’ve happened in Barcelona, you’re going to make sure you thrive here in London.

Well that is until your eyes meet hers. It’s like the wind gets knocked out of your chest– hers quite literally. The blonde’s eyes stay on yours, a furrowed brow taking over her face as she keeps running blind. Until she smacks face first into the goal post at full force, bright hair tumbling to the ground in a loud, harsh collapse. Your feet work faster than your brain, running over and immediately separating her from the net. You’re assessing her body, eyes frantically searching for any blood, bruises, cuts, or abnormalities. Your hands come to her ankles, pressing down as you look up at her face. “Does anything hurt? Stay lying down right now, your adrenaline might be blocking it out!”

“I'm Leah!” It’s rushed out, loud and with a voice crack. Her wide eyes staring up at you as she snaps a hand over her mouth afterwards.

If her teammates weren’t laughing before– they definitely are now.

A blush overtakes your cheeks as you put an arm around her waist, hoisting her to stand up with you. She throws one of hers around your shoulders as she regains her balance. “I’m taking her to the Med Room! Want to be sure she doesn’t have a concussion!”

You’re practically dragging her at this point, racing to get somewhere private because what in the actual fuck. "I'm Leah," She repeats her words from the field. "Yeah, I fucking know that!" you snap lightly on her. Mind still racing as you drag her down the building for a more private place to fully speak without worry. There is no way this is happening! Not to you– NOT NOW!! You push the Med Room door open with your back, and sit Leah up on the bed as you finally create some distance between you two. An accusing finger launching itself towards her as you move back to the middle of the room, “SINCE WHEN DO YOU PLAY FOOTBALL?”

“Nice to see you again, too, darling,” She’s smiling at you. That same one that got you hooked in Ibiza and agreeing to spend three weeks with a stranger. You almost get lost in it again– but you start shaking your head. “Oh no! No, no, no– don’t you darling me right now! How could you not tell me your-” your hand comes to pull at the band around her arm, “CAPTAIN! Of one of the best teams in all of Europe? And after spending all that time alone together, really?”

“First of all, we are not one of, we are the best in the world– thank you. Second of all, I don’t remember us talking much when we were together, if I can be honest. My mind tends to remember the more important details,” she licks her lips as she says it, eyes racking over your body as she recalls the memories to her mind. “And third of all, I don’t exactly remember you telling me you’re the highest paid AT in the sports field, so I guess we both kept some secrets. Huh, darling?”

“You are insufferable," you say as you take out your tiny flashlight, checking the reflexes of her pupils with it.

“Oh but that’s not what you were saying during those few weeks we spent together.”

“Leah!” Your face scrunches up as your fists ball up at your sides. Giving her the best glare you can muster up.

“Y/N! Don’t do your face like that– it’ll get stuck,” a laugh breaks out of her mouth as she says it. Poking at your face to relax your muscles there.

“Can you be serious for like two seconds, this is bad!” You rub your hands down your face. Trying to relieve the headache starting to form between your eyes.

"Oh calm down, would you! No one knows, okay? I didn't tell anyone about our time together. I swear!" She sticks her pinky out towards you, and you somehow find yourself laughing back this time as you extend your own to interlock with hers. It's then you know you've messed up. Her skin lights yours up the same way it did a year ago— you two hidden away on the tropical Spanish paradise. Days were spent exploring the island and endless nights spent exploring each other's bodies.

You don't even notice how close you two have drifted until her thighs are closing in around your middle, trapping you against the medical bed and her upper body. Your face flushes as you freeze in place, brain already too fuzzy for you to register that you should pull away. You can’t stop thinking back now– flashes of memories whizzing by in your head as you zone out, eyes lingering on her lips subconsciously. She must think that’s an invitation, because after a few seconds one of her hands comes to the back of your neck, pulling you into a searing kiss. You kiss her back at first, chasing the spark that ignites from her lips.

But then you remember where you are, and more importantly why you are even here. You got to pull away, hands coming up to her chest to push and create some space. She doesn’t budge though, a tiny moan slipping from your lips as you remember the depths of her strength. She smiles into the kiss at that, and you take the opportunity to breathe the words out against her lips. “Le-Leah we shouldn’t be d-doing this. We c-can’t…”

Her other hand tickles the waistband of your shorts, a light chuckle vibrating her chest as she pulls away to look you in the eyes. “I’ll stop if you really want me to, but I think we both know you want this more than me. Don’t you, darling? Otherwise you wouldn’t be humping the edge of the bed like a bitch in heat.”

You look down, not even realizing how you'd started rubbing your covered cunt against the medical bed. Your hips stutter to a stop as you try to back away from the cot, embarrassment filling your body at her catching you red handed. A finger lifts your chin up as her eyes lock to yours, a chill running down your spine as you cling to her every move. She runs her hand still sitting at your waist down to your hip, slipping under your shorts as goosebumps break out across your skin from her touch. “Don’t get shy on me, now. Not after I’ve seen you cum from grinding on a shoe.”

“Okay! Don’t act like you didn’t tell me to do it– no DEMAND it!” you move closer, pointing your finger into her chest now as you argue the claim.

“Mhm you’re right, Y/N…but you’re the one that did it. Got down on your knees,” she grips the hair at the back of your neck as she yanks your head back. “And rubbed your slutty pussy all over my Louboutins until you ruined them with your cum.” She brings her face down closer to yours, “Now open your fucking mouth.”

You do as she says, and you're met with a glob of her spit landing on your tongue. You swallow it before she even has to tell you, groaning out as you thank her for giving it to you. Her hand on your hip starts slipping around to your front after she feels you grinding forward again, giving you her fingers instead of the small spring mattress. You moan out as soon as they glide across your clit, an electric feeling breaking out across your body. You know this is wrong, and you’ll definitely chastise yourself later…but until then you’re gonna beg her to fuck you.

“Please give me your f-fingers! W-wanna cum for you, Le!” The distantly familiar nickname falls from your lips effortlessly and it fuels a fire inside Leah’s chest. She slides her hand farther into your shorts, instantly slipping two fingers inside of you at the start. Her palm is fitting your clit perfectly, and after a few minutes you can hear the squelching of your pussy from underneath your shorts. You can feel her curling, scissoring, and twisting the fingers inside of your cunt. Your legs are about to shake as you feel your orgasm start to build, moans increasing as your chest rises and falls faster. You can’t focus on anything other than Leah. That’s all your mind can think of: Leah, Leah, Leah…

Thank god she’s paying attention though. Because next thing you know she’s pulling her hand out of your shorts and pushing you back away from her so hard you fall on your ass. You let out a yell of shock as you go tumbling backwards, landing with a pretty loud thud onto the cold tile floor.

Before you can scream at her to explain what the fuck her problem is– the door is swinging open. Alessia barging in as she runs over to Leah. Stopping in her tracks as she almost topples over you. She comes to stop in a screeching halt, sticking a hand out to help you up. “What the hell are you doing on the floor?” She says as she drops your hand once you're back standing. “Well if you must know, Leah’s being stubborn and wouldn’t let me sit on the med bed with her because I’m benching her for practice until she gets her head checked by a CT scan.”

“YOU'RE BLOODY WHAT?” She screeches out at the realization.

“See she can’t even remember I already told her that! Definitely needs a ct,” you know you’re lying through your teeth…but fucking with Leah is too fun. No way you were telling her she’s benched when she had you on the verge of the first orgasm you’ve had…well, since the last time you saw her.

“What the hell even happened out there, Leah?” Alessia asks, a laugh busting out of her chest as she recalls the captain’s wipe out.

“I was lost in my head and just..oh god I’m never living this one down am I?”

“Oh god no! You should’ve heard the noise you made when you hit the pole– I've never heard that come out of a human being before, or any living thing for that matter!” She has tears welling up in her eyes now as she recalls the events.

You sneak out as the two blonde’s get lost in their laughs and conversation. The locker room is empty as you collect your things, humming a song under your breath as you make quick work of packing up. You’re walking out to the parking lot when you finally let yourself think of what just happened, fingers coming up to brush against your lips. You find yourself smiling, wiping it off your face when you notice. No, Y/N. Stay professional. This. cannot. happen again. Push it down.

You pull out your phone to order a new cab before a familiar voice grabs your attention. “I’m afraid there aren’t many cabs on this side of town at this time of night. I can give you a ride though. Only if you want, of course…But such a gorgeous girl as yourself? You really shouldn’t be walking home alone.”

You turn, forgetting the words you told yourself not even 5 minutes ago. Nodding your head before you fully process the request. You’re going to be alone in a confined space with her? FUCK. You folded quicker than a lawn chair for the blonde footballer not even 10 full minutes ago….Lord give you strength for this 20 minute drive.

She opens the door for you, holding an intense eye contact as she closes it as well. Her car smells like the leather seats and the piney notes of her perfume. A perfect mix that has you rubbing your thighs together, trying to dull the ache she never got to quell. She climbs into the drivers seat, setting up her aux before she's handing you her phone open onto her maps app.

You quickly type in your new address before the navigation is breaking through the speakers and leading you to your destination. The ride isn't awkward, filled with easily flowing conversation. You're so lost in it you don't even notice you've made it to your flat. Not until the gps is yelling out "Arrived at Destination."

You try to hide your disappointment as you grab your bags, saying a thank you as soon many questions hang in the air between you two. "Can I walk you up? Promise I won't make a move, just want to make sure you get inside okay." She throws her hands up in a defensive mode.

"Yeah, I'd like that," you push down the large part of your brain that is telling you to stop this dynamic. To kill it before it can manifest…but you don't listen to it. You let her take your hand as she walks you into your buildings elevator, and you let her kiss you soft and slow as the floors ding past you both. It's different from any kiss you've shared before, and that kind of scares you.

It scares you even more at your door, where she tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and kisses you like that again. She's kissing you like she has something to prove…you're not quite sure what that is just yet…but you sure as hell want to find out. The first time Leah blew into your life, it was at a time of transformation. It was brief but truly wonderful, and now the universe is sitting her right in fucking front of you for a second time.

She's the first one to pull away from your lips this time. A smile pulling at her lips as she ducks back in to steal one more peck, and then she's backing away slowly. Her hands pulling yours with hers as she tries to leave you as slowly as possible. "Goodnight, Y/N."

You can't help the smile you break out into at the gesture, looking down as you blush slightly from the innocent statement. She's playing with your fingers now, and you're trying to memorize hers for the foreseeable future. "Goodnight, Le. And thank you for today. Always the gentleman…when you want to be."

She pushes your shoulder at that, "Oi! I'm always a gent!"

You blush as you think more about the Ibiza trip, "I would beg to differ."

She genuinely laughs at that, picking your hand up to her mouth to leave a kiss on your knuckles. You say goodnight to each other one last time before she leaves down the hall, watching her disappear into the elevator before you go inside your apartment. You both don't know it yet, but you end up finding the same resolution to your problems tonight.

As you both lay awake drowning in endless thoughts of each other, you can't help but slip a hand into your shorts. You're rubbing at your over sensitive clit, imagining it's Leah as you work yourself up. You haven't had time to buy any toys since you moved here, but you don't need them right now. Not when she's got you so wound up from barely any touch.

Meanwhile the blonde captain is slipping her trusty vibrator between her legs to stimulate her clit, the pretty pictures she has of you from Ibiza currently being viewed in her hand. From the one of you being blind folded in her hotel bed to the one of you bent over the railing of her private yacht— she can't stop the new filthy images of you from popping into her head. She's got to have you again, and not just for sex this time.

Leah hasn't stopped thinking of you since the trip, mind clouded with day dreams of you two creating a life together. She's been laughing it off, thinking she's delusional because she'll never see you again…but that disappears when you come waltzing back into her life. She knows now she can't waste this second chance. No matter how long or what all it takes: Leah Williamson is going to make you her girl.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

You close the cupboard and nearly jump out of your skin as Adrienne stands on the other side of it. She stares at you soberly before she cracks a sheepish smile. You show your fright with a hand on your chest. 

“Ade,” you huff. 

She laughs, “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to.” 

“No problem,” you assure her. “What’s up?” 

Her nostrils flare and her smile dulls, “it’s been a week.” 

One week. Your father’s been away for a whole week. He’s rarely been gone that long. His jobs are never more than a couple days. And you haven’t heard from him, but that’s not unusual or disappointing. 

“Hopefully it will be another,” Kitty says as she walks into the kitchen with a half-finished glass of water. “It’s calm around her. Isn’t it?” 

You nod. A silence rises around the three of you. You think back to the one memory you have of a peaceful house. When it was the three of you and your mother. 

“He got that kidney stone,” Kitty says. “Had him in the hospital for days. Ma said it was barely the size of a bead.” 

“Best days of my life,” you agree. 

“I don’t remember,” Adrienne says. 

As the youngest, she doesn’t remember everything and you sometimes think that’s better for her sanity. Even your memory is splotchy. There are fractures of noise and vision. Sometimes you only see, other times it replays like a record on a player and crawls through your ears. 

“So, Ade, why are you so concerned?” Kitty inquires. 

Adrienne hesitates. She shrugs and looks away guiltily. She’s a bad liar. You all are despite the typical consequences. 

“Mitzi wanted to see a movie. They’re screening Breakfast at Tiffany’s at the Golden Reel.” 

“Audrey?” Kitty preens. “My favourite.” 

“You can come. I was going to ask both of you but I thought if daddy came back--” 

“And we’re all gone...” you add. “You two go. I can deal with him.” 

“That’s not fair,” Kitty says. 

“Really, go. I can’t focus on a movie right now.” You insist. “Have some popcorn for me, alright?” 

“He probably won’t be back,” Kitty argues. 

You wave her off, “really, it’s fine. You know I hate crowds. That theatre is tiny and it’ll probably be packed on a Friday night.” 

“Okay, but I’m bringing you back raisinettes. I know you love them.” Kitty insists. 

“Have fun. Tell Mitzi I said hello,” you turn back to the cupboards and run your hands over the laminate.  

You’ve been restless. You clean just to keep yourself busy. To keep from thinking. And when you lay down at night, you’re not kept awake by your usual dread. It isn’t your father standing on your chest, it’s Barnes. In your dreams, he doesn’t strut into the bakery, but into your house. And he sits at the table where your father would usually be and sits silently, waiting. 

That’s why this calm unsettles you. There’s always a storm to come after the quiet. It will unfurl soon enough. 

“Hey, you okay?” Kitty’s gentle touch makes you wince. 

“I’m good,” you assure her and nearly gag on your tongue. For a moment, it wasn’t your voice, it was your mother’s. That same lie she told for so long. You both hesitate at the echo of your lifetimes. “Really,” you face her, “you know I’m dying to have this place to myself. When does that ever happen?” 

She stares at you then smiles. “Yeah, enjoy it while it lasts.” 

She falters again. It’s what you’re all thinking. You want to milk every bit of joy out of your father’s absence.

Kitty turns and grabs Adrienne’s hand, quickly redirecting from the threat of inevitability, “Ade, what are you gonna wear?” 

You take out the flour and all the other ingredients you need. For once, you can afford to spare a bit extra. When you were really young, your mother made her own bread. That stopped shortly after she had Adrienne. She changed after that. She was exhausted with all three of you. 

You measure out every part before you begin. Your precision has always tied you in knots. You find it hard to get anything done unless it’s entirely orderly. In a house full of chaos, that means often you don’t get much done at all. 

As you knead the dough, Kitty and Adrienne’s voices garble on the stairs. They stomp down to the first floor and call a goodbye to you through the doorway. You holler back but keep your hands working. 

You get the loaf in the oven and clean up the mess. The empty house is eerie. You can’t remember the last time you were all alone. Really alone. Ever, if at all. 

You wash the bowls and the whisk and the roller. You put it all away, step-by-step, running through every single detail. The timer counts down, the small windable egg-shaped device your mother always had going for one way or another. Tick, tick, tick. 

It goes off and you jump. For a moment, you’re back in your memories. You’re a little girl at the table, watching your mother rush around the kitchen. Kitty’s beside you with a colouring book and Adrienne’s in her high chair. 

Your mother limps from the fridge to stove. She doesn’t let it deter her. She bends to take out the pan of food as the timer buzzes. Adrienne wails at the noise as you cover your ears. The smell of cigarette smoke singes in your nostrils. 

You twist the timer so it goes silent as you return to the present. The scent of tobacco fades as the fresh baked bread wafts through the kitchen. You open the creaky oven door and use the stained oven mitts to take the pan out. Your mother always wanted a new stove. You assume she wanted a lot of things that she never got. 

You put the pan down and shut off the oven. The doorbell pierces the air and you spin, your back hitting the counter. It wouldn’t be your father; he wouldn’t ring the door. He always comes in screaming, even in the middle of the night. 

You put the oven mitts on the table as you pass and step out into the hall. You near the door, a shadow on the other side of the marbled glass. It’s a man. Your heartbeat spikes. Your father is a criminal and a strange man knocking at your door could be dangerous. 

Is death so bad when living is terrifying? 

You open the door. A wash of deja vu flows over you. It isn’t a strange man, it’s Steve Rogers. Again. That doesn’t ease your worries. 

“You. Come.” He orders you. 

You hold your breath. That is unusual. Your father’s associates come and go, most times they barely acknowledge you, they’re just there to talk shit with him or drag him off on some caper. This is different. Different is dangerous. 

“Yeah, you,” he snaps his fingers. “Look, I don’t got all day. Let’s go.” 

You look down. “My shoes...” 

“Get ‘em,” he sighs and crosses his arms. 

You step back and leave the door open. You step into a pair of scuffed flats and turn back to him. You don’t even grab your keys as you step outside. You’re shaking. 

“Is it my father?” You ask. 

“No questions.” He snarls as he turns and marches down the narrow walkway. 

You follow him at a bouncing pace, struggling to keep up with him. He leads you to the car and opens the back door. It’s then that you notice the woman in his front seat. Her eyes are skittish as she peers back out at you. 

“Get in,” he opens the door. “And be quiet.” 

You put your head down and obey. The look on that woman’s face is enough to keep you in line. Besides, your father prepared you well. There’s an order to things and you’re at the very bottom. So keep your mouth shut and do what you’re told. 

[kalkaros-is-the-boss]

Snape managed to be such a fucking great spy, and i definitely think one of the ways he did that was just by being ballsy as fuck and not giving a shit if he seemed suspicious. Because why would he? He’s got nothing to hide.

Like the fact that he even got close enough to Voldemort after joining in the first place that he’d have the guts to beg Voldemort to spare Lily and for Voldemort to not only let him live after that, but to in a way at least pretend to respect his wishes. This mf really rolled up there, as a fucking half-blood, and was like ‘yeah I wanna join your death eaters’. And you know just being brutally death eatery would not have been enough to make him that important to Voldemort, no, he had to make sure that Voldemort saw him as an irreplaceable asset and not just a gun.

So like, he’s fine coming TWO HOURS late. Because Voldemort knows Snape is smart as hell. So you know that while Voldemort was torturing him, he would’ve just subtly implied how unintelligent it would’ve been of him to show up on time. And Voldemort wouldn’t have even realized that Snape called HIM dumb. He’d just have gone like ‘yeah, that would’ve been dumb. Which is why I didn’t want you to do that, because I’M also not dumb.’

And then Snape continues rolling up to meetings late. And when the other death eaters give shit to him about it, he just has to be like ‘wow, look at these idiots, they want me to risk your agenda, so I can be on time. It’s like they don’t even want you to succeed.’ And Voldemort will just be like ‘Totally’.

But the best thing about the whole graveyard thing is, Snape could have gone on time. Like Dumbledore would’ve understood. Harry probably wouldn’t have believed anything, but he’s always suspecting Snape of something, so that doesn’t matter. He could have gone when called, but he chose to wait. And that was the smartest move - obviously. And Voldemort knows that, and that made Snape seem less suspicious after the initial betrayal. Because had Snape gone on time, yes Dumbledore would have understood, but that would have been suspicious. Voldemort knows both Dumbledore and Snape are smart, so why would Snape risk his position? And why would Dumbledore not find his disappearance strange? Now, it wouldn’t have outed Snape as a spy, but it would have made him appear more like any death eater. Eager to please. Replaceable.

By coming there two fucking hours late, Snape showcased confidence in his alliance, which Voldemort bought. And he showed that he believes in Voldemort’s intelligence, which he also bought. It’s such a power move, and definitely what brings him above the other death eaters. It’s an evidence of his own intelligence, which makes Voldemort want to have him close, and therefore allows him to have more freedom and control over when and how to participate. He’s not just some death eater following orders, he’s one of Voldemorts most trusted. It’s what makes him one hell of a spy.

lol now im just imagining voldemort in the middle of brutally torturing snape to death stopping and being like 'oh sorry my bad'

no but seriously. i love how snape has such a calm and understated way of recounting what must have been a tremendously harrowing experience.

[waitmyturtles]

Hey,

I'm not 100% sure how this works. Also this is more of an opinion than a question. I just feel the need to brain dump. You are under no obligation to reply. 😁

I fear that First and Khaotung are being wasted at/by GMMTV. They're both stellar actors and seem to have the sensibilities to tackle more serious material.

I feel like coming off Not Me, the themes in The Eclipse kinda went over my head. My fear was and still is that I didn't understand all the nuances. And that's why I felt like the show was lacking. Also I think the very first preview set it up as an entirely different show (more supernaturalmystery/thriller) in my head, so there was a disconnect there as well.

Their next project was Moonlight Chicken where both of them shined as actors but negligibly as a BL pairing. Having said that, they seem to be on very solid ground in the BL fandom - I am referring to their fan meets.

Only Friends was a masterclass of acting as far as FirstKhaotung were concerned (i was all about Ray and Sand), but I think the overall reputation as show that fell flat on its face overshadowed or at least took away (for me) from the gravity of FK.

And now we're here. With The Heart Killers and I am very wary of how Ota all going down. I see that the final trailer got over million views and I'm happy for them, but based on I think the absolute travesty that was OF, my expectations for this show are on the ground.

I really want more of an insight into how projects are picked up and distributed inside GMMTV (if you ha e any, I'm dying to know). I feel like they would benefit greatly from being on a show like PS I Hate You or something like Peaceful Property.

It feels like they're backsliding in terms of material given. Which I am sure is a) not their fault and b) me possibly being weird and dramatic in the wee hours of the morning. But I wanted to get it off my chest and I was reading your previous reviews when I felt, and then gave into the impulse to write to you.

Also I'm a MaxTul girly too and somehow, you made me want to give Make it Right another chance.

Have a great week ahead and keep up the absolutely exceptional work! ❤️

NIHILISTIC! It's great to hear from you! And thank you for the compliments!

TW for girlies out there who are not Nihilistic: this post will contain criticisms of The Heart Killers trailer. Read at your peril, delicate hearts!

I'll go backwards to save the biggest stuff for last. If you write anything about Make It Right, please tag me! @bengiyo and I always give a little DJ air horn to each other when we've nabbed another one into the broader cultural reconsideration of this AMAZING show. MaxTul, man. Nobody beats them! (Okay, almost, Tul admits he wasn't the strongest actor, but. We'll let it slide, dahling!) Chemistry, humor, pride representation, everything, they're great. I yelped when I saw them in Triage!

Okay, so you are a FirstKhao girlie, and you're worried about what The Heart Killers bodes. (Out of transparency, I have The Heart Killers tag filtered because of Only Friends PTSD. I'm gonna filter my own post!) For you, Nihilistic, I just watched the trailer for it.

I will get to all your questions about the GMMTV model in a moment.

Now, out of even MORE transparency, I am watching the MESS that is Kidnap right now, and listen, it's NOT GOOD. I'm fucking not even writing about it anymore, I'm just reblogging the sessy gifs. I am watching it to support Ohm Pawat, and am hoping that this partnership with Leng Thanaphon will hopefully lead to better scripts.... somewhere. (Or at least, better scripts for Ohm at a place like One31 or Channel 3. I also hope Ohm keeps up his anti-branded pair stance, but if GMMTV forces him to pair permanently with Leng, it won't be a fucking surprise, and more on that below.)

To focus specifically on THK for a sec: the THK trailer evoked a lot of what's gone utterly wrong in Kidnap for me. I think writing Thai BL/Series Y scripts to be different, fresh, and innovative, is just going to be really fucking hard, especially for stories featuring branded pairs that MUST end up together in the end. Because we, the viewers, KNOW that they MUST end up together in the end, what kind of mystery and conflict can a script convincingly evoke to keep us, the viewers, engaged and interested in the drama?

A few of us Ohm girlies were excited that Kidnap could have had non-romantic plot points (CRIME!!!) to drive concurrently with a romance plot. There are Series Y that have done this BEAUTIFULLY, particularly Sammon's stories of Manner of Death and Triage.

I'm sorry to say that I didn't get that from the THK trailer, and that THK smells a lot like Kidnap to me. The trailer itself is giving an indication that the "jobs" these guys have as double agents are going to be compromised due to them falling in love. And after the debacle that was Jojo Tichakorn's Only Friends -- a show premised on the exploration of mean, icky, really horny humans, a great place to start an interesting show! -- knowing that THK will HAVE to end up in a romantic place, with FK and JoongDunk being in memorable and memeable entwinements... that's a lot to ask of a show that already isn't making sense by drive, emotion, and tone in its trailer alone. What matters more to these characters? Their work, or their need to be in monogamous relationships? Seems like the latter to me by way of the trailer, which makes me wonder what the point of the plot is. (Joong's chest, probably.) (Gahddayum.)

(I haven't watched the latest episode of Jack & Joker, btw, but I understand that THIS WEEK's episode is ALSO going through something similar, with dead-end and uncommitted plot points all to get to a kiss. Oy.)

To summarize these points and to touch at your question about how GMMTV chooses scripts: GMMTV has an economic model to sell in giving happy endings to their branded pairs, which I wrote about at length in my Old GMMTV Challenge rewatch of The Eclipse. No matter where a script goes, the ending must be memorable and monogamous to satisfy the retweeting hunger of the branded pairs' fandoms, in order for GMMTV's artists to increase online engagement and to maintain earned media values to sell products.

The wonderful @flowerbeasblog noted to me recently that Tha Sataporn, the CEO of GMMTV, said in an interview that as the productions of Series Y in Thailand continues to increase, there is a greater need for more scriptwriting talent across this niche genre, creating competition for more excellent writing. (By comparison, in the States, when streaming services like Netflix and Hulu starting commissioning more original series just about a decade ago, the demand for scriptwriters and excellent writing also went up by incredible scale -- only to come crashing down recently with pandemic and strike-related losses in revenue.) GMMTV's recently announced script competition, Y Find, updated itself last week with a notice that the company would need more time to sift through scripts to judge. In other words: the demand for creative plots is so high at this company that they are literally fielding entries from the general public.

At the same time, Tha Sataporn has been blunt in indicating that "good shows" are not the priority of his GMMTV, and that talent, management, and engagement are his indicators of success. So, economically -- as long as a show hits that happy ending, and gets the girlies excited online with commentary and purchasing power, then the studio has won, in GMMTV's eyes.

ULTIMATELY, Nihilistic: what we are dealing with regarding your concern, as fans and/or critics of Series Y shows, is a conflict of values, among critical fans like ourselves, other fans who only watch shows for romance and shipping, and the economic bottom lines of the studios/agencies themselves. Some of us just want narratively good scripts, like Bad Buddy or He's Coming To Me. Others are content with having a show end with their fave pairs confirmed together in the end, no matter the process of how they got there. Those are different values we hold in watching shows. I appreciate that while you're a fan of the FK branded pair, that you want stronger scripts for them. I do, too, but that's not a value that every fan -- and GMMTV itself -- holds. And I believe that's why we've been seeing more and more mediocre scripts from that studio in particular.

I actually want to note maybe something positive about FirstKhao. Other than The Eclipse, it seems like they haven't been locked into high school or university settings. Only Friends, Moonlight Chicken -- these are shows that show First's and Khao's characters as young adults, and THK is going there, too. I hope they can avoid the university settings as they continue to work.

Is stellar acting wasted at GMMTV? Oh, yes. Besides First and Khao, who I truly think are good actors, we have Gun Atthaphan, Nanon Korapat, and Ohm Pawat -- these three guys are on my list of the best Thai actors out there who have done BL, and they haven't had great scripts in years. (Gun, arguably, has had the best pickings of decent shows recently in Cooking Crush and The Trainee, but they weren't high art; and Nanon's Dirty Laundry was the last Jojo script I was truly impressed by.) All three of these guys were in MOVIES at one point. Those ambitions, on behalf of these actors by GMMTV, seem to have gone by the wayside in preference for a huge economic push to boost branded pair-based series insteads, with their plot holes and guaranteed romances.

I hope the genre's tide turns for the sake of quality scripts, especially at GMMTV, but my hopes are low for this agency at the moment. My joy in Thai shows recently has been in watching past shows for my OGMMTVC. I've been on a lakorn kick lately, having watched The Miracle of Teddy Bear and I'm looking forward to watching Khun Chai soon. Other agencies and studios, like One31 and Channel 3, are breathing down GMMTV's neck and producing more interesting shows, sometimes with branded pairs and sometimes not. Triage only came out two years ago, and that show's trilogy (along with Manner of Death) will end with this year's airing of Spare Me Your Mercy, starring the very likely one-time pair of Tor Thanabob and JJ (Jaylerr) Krissanapoom, two gigantic artists in Thailand who are circling BACK towards the much smaller genre of Series Y for SMYM's sake. I have VERY high hopes and expectations for that show -- and that show is well out of the purview of GMMTV.

I think what you're smelling about the THK trailer is right, Nihilistic -- to me, the trailer isn't cohesive, and jumps already to its forgone conclusion of a romantic end. Unfortunately, for those of us familiar with Jojo Tichakorn's work, we know that if he was given more leeway, he'd likely come up with something more interesting. But now that he has to work with branded pairs -- who are shipped in the eyes of their fan beholders -- he's got a lot less room to be creative and interesting, which ultimately stifles the otherwise excellent acting we'd see from these young men.

[sturniololuv08]

Bat Matt (Dorky Batman Short)

@sunrisemill Post led to

@sturniolosfan1902 comment about a dorky matt fic which led to

@m4vestu encouraging me to write it

SO HERE WE ARE:

"I'm not doing it." You shook your head from side to side.

"Babe, please. I need to save you." Matt begged desperately for you to fulfill his fantasy. You looked into his bright blue eyes. You knew you failed the minute you sighed. "Yes!" He triumphed as he ran to put on his dark clothes. You smiled a little to yourself because you loved seeing him excited. He was always quiet so when he showed enthusiasm about something it tugged on your heartstrings. "Where is your eyeliner?" He called from the bathroom.

"Why do you need -"

"Don't question me!" He interrupted you.

"It's in the left drawer." You shook your head. You continued scrolling your phone while you heard him shuffling around.

"Honey, where's my super suit?" He quoted The Incredibles movie.

"Matt, really?" You regretted caving in.

"You're right, wrong movie." He agreed.

Within minutes, Matt was standing in the doorway with his head held low. His clothes were all black and baggy. His hair was flopped over his eyes. You saw why he needed your eyeliner, to black out his eye sockets. His jaw looked even thinner as he leaned up against the doorway.

"That didn't take long." You giggled. You weren't entirely sure what you were signing up for tonight but you were here to make your boyfriend happy.

"To the bat mobile." He huffed in a deep voice. You stood up off of his bed and walked past him. He let you through only so that he could squeeze your butt when you did.

"Matt, that's not very Batman of you." You jumped a little surprised.

"Do you wanna fight some bad guys with me?" He whispered in your ear. You sighed and walked to the garage with Matt sulking behind you. You got in the car and waited for him to join you.

"Babe can you film me driving real quick for a video." He asked in his normal voice.

"Sure." You took his phone and unlocked it. You opened up his Snapchat and started filming. "Okay. Go." He immediately was in character and started rizzing up the camera. He looked at you but not directly at the camera. He ran this thumb over his jawline while holding a serious look on his face. You hated to admit it but he looked really good.

"Got it all?" He was back to being Matt.

"Yeah. It's good." You didn't want to tell him how good because you didn't want it going to his head. He parked the car near a park and you both got out. "What do you need me to do?" Even though it was the middle of the night you were embarrassed to be doing this.

"They think I'm hiding in the shadows, I am the shadows." He huffed not answering you. You walked away to go over to the play set. He followed you for a few steps and then randomly started sprinting.

"Matt!" You eeked scared.

"I am Vengeance." He didn't turn to look back at you. The park wasn't lit up very well so with him in the all-black costume he became harder to make out in the distance.

"Matt?" Your voice was a little shaky from real nerves. He was gone. "Matt, where are you?" You knew what you had to say to get him to come back but you didn't want to. After looking around and trying to find him you gave in. "Help, Help. Please someone help me." You playfully begged. Matt dropped down from one of the play sets right in front of you. You lurched backward unprepared for his body falling from the sky.

"The city needs me." He gruffed. He then proceeded to punch the air around you.

"Thank you for saving me." You would like to be able to say you haven't done this before but unfortunately, Matt had talked you into this before so you knew what he wanted. "How can I ever thank you without knowing your name?" You asked to play the part.

"I'm... Batman." He growled slowly.

"Thank you so much." You pretend to swoon over your dark savior. "How do you do this every night?" You put your hand over your forehead.

"All men have limits. I ignore mine." He scoffed and kissed your cheek before walking off. You knew he was living his best life when he was living his "double life." You sat on a swing and started scrolling your phone while you watched him lurk in the darkness. Every once in a while you saw a black figure move and you heard his breathy mumble say some catchphrase.

"Bat Matt, I'm getting cold." You hollered out.

"The city needs me." He said right behind you.

"Fuck!" You jumped and fell out of the swing unprepared to have his dark voice in your ear.

"Babe -" He shook his head to reset his voice. "Babe, are you okay?" Matt was back.

"I'm fine can we just go home now? It got way too cold to be out here."

"Batman doesn't -"

"I know but this damsel in distress does." You rubbed your arms. He took off his puffy black jacket and wrapped it around you.

"Don't ruin my cape." He said seriously.

"Matt, it's a jacket." You looked at his stern face to see how serious he was. You made it to the car and slid inside. He turned on the heat he didn't drive right away to let the heat blast on you for a few minutes.

"Better?" He looked at you with puppy dog eyes hidden behind the dark black that was now smeared.

"Uh-huh." You nodded. He started driving and this time even though he wasn't doing the angsty look he still was extremely hot to you. When you walked in the front door Chris and Nick were hanging out in the living room together.

"Nice costume," Nick said slowly with a wide smile.

"What costume?" He was back in character flawlessly.

"Woah." Chris and Nick both got up and came over to check him out.

"This is insane." Chris chuckled. Matt started shadowboxing him.

"Where's the Joker?" Matt grabbed Chris' collar.

"Calm down killer." Chris shoved his hands off of him. I smiled at him having a second go at Bruce Wayne's Character.

"If you kill a killer, the number of killers in the world will remain the same."

"Oh. My. God. You are actually kind of good at that." Nick pulled out his phone to record him. I rolled my eyes knowing this was going to go to his head so much faster with his brothers encouraging him.

"My parent's death shaped me into who I am today." Nick moved around him getting all the angles for the video. I stayed in the background letting them have their moment. I also knew not to be in the video because then he couldn't post it.

"I can't believe you let him role-play as Batman still. Halloween was like three weeks ago." Chris nudged my shoulder. I just shook my head as we watched him jump off the back of the couch.

"I just want to see him happy." You sighed out with a big smile.

"The city needs me." He looked directly at you.

"Bat Matt, I didn't say anything." You were confused.

"Even with my mask on, you’re the one who sees the real me underneath." He trudged over to you and picked you up. You suddenly knew what he wanted.

"To the cave?" You asked lifting one eyebrow.

"To the bat cave." He turned off the living room lights on Nick and Chris as he took you back to his room.

[cuubism]

Idk if you are still taking prompts, but: After their first meeting, while Hob still thinks it is a joke, he escorts Dream out. It is only when Dream returns to the Dreaming that he realizes his ruby has been stolen by Hob. Thus begins a game of cat and mouse through the ages, and Hob keeps slipping through his Endless fingers.

oh dear, this was from last year. fun though! could be the basis for a much longer fic. i love thief hob

-

Hob knows better than to gloat openly about his winnings, but he can't help tossing the ruby a few times in his hand as he walks, admiring it. Such a stunning gem, he's never seen its like but in paintings of kings, and even those are rare enough. Invaluable. And the strange lord had just had it about his neck, for all to see.

Hob shakes his head, tucking the ruby away in his tunic. Money can't buy common sense, it seems.

He finds his horse in the stable and leads it outside, stepping into the stirrup and swinging up into the saddle. After a find like this, best to disappear. Easy as the ruby had been to snatch, that strange young lord will doubtless come back looking for it, once he notices it's gone.

Night is falling by the time Hob reaches the treeline. He hasn't been followed--the path behind him has been empty for hours, and the trees show nothing but birdsong as he steers his horse into the darkness. Hob knows this route well, and by the time the moon is high above, he's navigated to a familiar clearing, untacked his horse, and sat back against a tree for some rest.

He can't help but look at the strange ruby one more time before going to sleep. It glows unnaturally in the moonlight, a blue-white reflection on a background of venous red. He tilts it back and forth in his palm, studying the cut. Who, exactly, is going to buy this from him, he can't yet say. But it'll pay his way for years once he finds them.

Hob kisses the ruby's cool surface, then tucks it away in his tunic again, chain wrapped around his fingers for safekeeping. He quickly falls asleep.

-

The moon is still high when Hob wakes, startling back to awareness against the trunk of the tree. He scrubs a hand over his eyes, looking around, disoriented. Strange, it's like it's been only moments since he fell asleep--

His horse is gone. So's his pack. And for that matter, the clearing is smaller, closer, darker than he remembers--

Heart pounding, he scrambles in his tunic to find--

"I imagine you are looking for this," says a low voice, and from the darkness emerges the wine-red glint of the ruby. Following it is the dark shape of the lord Hob had robbed in the tavern, only he's-- he's--

He's horrible. His eyes glow white in the dark, his hair waves in a strange wind, and everything about him is sharp and wrong, like an uneasy nightmare Hob might have in the wee hours, consequences coming back for him.

"Look," he says, holding up his hands in self-defense. Shit, his sword's gone from his belt, too. "S'really your fault for swanning about with that thing, innit? 's bandit country, m'lord."

"Is it?" He... doesn't seem angry. He's smiling. Oh, it's a terrible smile, but nevertheless. "How foolish of me, then. To expect to maintain ownership of my belongings."

"Like I said, thieves about," Hob says. "Got to be careful, now." Really, what did he expect Hob to do? Let someone else get the score?

The strange lord sits down on the grass across from Hob, still with those glowing eyes and that terrible smile playing about his lips. "And what, Robert Gadling, ought I to do, having caught one of these thieves?"

And the thing is. Authority doesn't work very well on Hob. One of his 'flaws' most like to get him killed, 'cuz Authority didn't tend to care whether it worked on you or not. Hob's been hauled before the magistrate for theft before and no matter that he knew he'd be lucky to get away with his life he could never quite bite his tongue. Always a smart mouth, his mum used to say.

It's no different with this lord. Hob's hardly about to bow his head and apologize. He remembers the smirk on the other man's face at his challenge in the tavern. Pretty little thing to be talking big words about punishing thieves.

"Dunno," he says, tracking his gaze over the soft lines of the man's dark robe, his fine neck and narrow shoulders. The longer Hob looks, the less frightening he seems, though there is still something of the otherworld about him. God's teeth, if Hob's brought the ire of the fey about him... "What would you like to do?"

And the strange creature laughs. Just a chuckle, but nevertheless. "I could make you spend your next one hundred years paying a thief's price over and over again in the Dreaming, as penance for taking my ruby," he says. "Should I do that, Hob? Cut off your hands, and again and again as you regrow them?"

"If you did you wouldn't get to see what they can do for you," Hob says. Hell, Hob'll do it even without threat of punishment. He's a pretty little lord, for certain, even if he is fey.

The lord chuckles again, and closes his fist around the ruby, stealing its light. Without the reflection, his eyes seem even wilder. "Hm. Perhaps not this time. I am too curious to waste your next century in sleeping punishment." He takes Hob's face in one hand, holding his chin in sharp fingers. "Be wary what your hands touch in the Waking World, Hob Gadling. Not all creatures will find your insolence humorous enough to wish to be merciful."

He lets go, and Hob falls backward through the tree at his back, falls into darkness--

And wakes in sunlight, his pack beside him, his sword at his side, his horse grazing a few feet away.

Heart pounding, he shoves his hand into his tunic, though he already knows what he'll find.

Or what he won't find. The ruby, gone into the darkness, into dreams, with his strange, fey lord.

Hob shivers.

Well. He'll certainly have to meet him again in 1489, now. Not to retake the ruby--that hardly matters in the end.

But answers to all the mysteries it's brought: those Hob would gladly steal.

[bomber-grl]

What being their crush is like

Pairing(s): Characters x Gn!Ninja!Reader (teammate)

Character(s): Naruto Uzumaki, Sakura Haruno, Sasuke Uchiha

Naruto Uzumaki

An absolute fool for you

The only ways you could’ve caught this morons affections is by either being attractive or being kind to him back when you both first started out at the academy

Either way he’s absolutely smitten and so when he hears your name called out after his in class- he’s ecstatic that you’ll be on the same team

If you have a crush on someone else he’d be pretty bummed out but it won’t deter him

(He was especially motivated by sasuke and Sakura- it was just to get him away from them)

He’ll try to buy you ramen, flowers, honestly just anything to show you that he’s the most suitable suitor

Which couldn’t be further from the the truth (in the eyes of everyone else)

He’d be so open about liking you

Well, when he’s not around you

He’ll always talk about you and how wonderful you are- it’s so painfully obvious to any outsider looking in

And when someone brings up his more than obvious crush on you he’d flush and act as if they had gone mental

Like what

Also bonus points to you if you constantly back him up when he’s being teased and support his dream to be hokage

Literally +1000 points

Well a certain period of time passes and throughout said period he’s constantly flirting with you

How? Well he’s always complimenting your fighting/ jutsu and trying to ask you out on a date

If you are even slightly hesitant to respond

Like by a milisecond- then he’d rub the back of his head and laugh it off

Going on about how he was just joking and I don’t know what

Then one day you end up accepting

Which is funny because of the fact that he left a very traditional love note hidden somewhere he knew you’d fine

[insert you going home and finding it]

Literally not surprising to anyone and most people would assume that Naruto would confess boldly

But I disagree- he’d be pretty shy and uncertain despite his tendency to be reckless

If you accept or not will be up to you but the next time you see him he’s all awkward and stuff but still manages to try and play it off

It’s up to you to break the ice

Sakura Haruno

Again, Sakura likely started liking you because of your attractiveness

It was just a surface level crush until she saw that you had an actual good character

She’s so beyond happy that you’ll be on the same team, I’m not even exaggerating

You’re all in the same class and so as classmates you’re all bound to have crushes on the same people

That’s to say- a good amount of people also had a crush on you and the moment your name was announced alongside hers-

She just mentally imagined flipping them all and shoving it in their faces

Miss girl is honestly so sweet, she’s always trying to spend time with you and if you have any trouble with anything

E.g. ninjutsu, fighting, etc. she’ll always be there to help

Maybe a little too willing at times

Now, we all know that Ino and Sakura have had this rivalry and often banter

Well, all of a sudden (if Ino isn’t fighting over you) she’s probably making fun of you and being very loud about her opinion on you

It’s either that she thinks you and Sakura are a perfect match (negative) or that you’re terrible and not the best option (also negative)

Either way you’re catching strays

Sakura obviously gets riled up over this and tries to defend you no matter where or when

Which leads to you being there for Sakuras Chunin exams and experiencing the whole match

It’s an event that leads to character growth- but when she goes back she doesn’t expect you to be there waiting for her

She’s honestly flattered you’d wait for her and is mentally smug about it

When she flirts with you it’s honestly super obvious too

I can’t even deny that

Like at times she’d defend you and act as though you’re always right and idk what else (which is her odd way of flirting because she sort of stares)

And then sometimes she just opens up about private stuff around you during the quiet moments

Plus she also gifts you little trinkets- like flowers or something casual and small

Either way- when she confesses it’s probably spontaneous asf

Like you’re walking around at night and she gets this urge to just spill her guts

And she does

She’s basically like why the hell not be like Naruto

She’s super flushed and awaits your response right then and there

If you like her back and know it- that’s that

But if you tell her you need to time to figure it out then she’ll accept

Just know she’s lying awake at night wondering regretting it

Sasuke Uchiha

He acts super neutral towards you

Which wouldn’t be an obvious pointer that you’re his crush towards the average person but cmon

He’s sasuke

So ofc it’s obvious he has a crush on you

Honestly the only way I’d see him having a crush on you would be if you were close to him pre massacre and have been by his side since forever

(Unless you’re willing to wait the long game *cough*cough* slow burn)

He’d be pretty dependent on you while also being super independent

It’s honestly confusing sometimes

When it comes to the whole you being apart of his team, he doesn’t feel a particular way about it

(Or so he tells himself)

He’d try so hard to be nonchalant around you

Like not even joking

But if someone insults you or does something slightly disrespectful- he’s giving them the death glare

And then excuses it with just being annoyed by (more often than not) Naruto

Since he usually pokes fun at ppl and stuff

(If you didn’t know him before the academy and even if you did) He’d probably admire your skills and how smart you are

Like he’d watch you from afar and is honestly jealous and simultaneously sees you as a rival

Again, super confusing.

The most affection you’d get from him at this stage is his (once in a lifetime) compliment about your fighting or something

Then he’d walk away

You’re left standing there super confused while he walks away with a light blush dusting his cheeks

He ain’t fooling nobody

He obviously feels super weird about having a crush on you because of his whole mission on finding his brother and -

Yea.

So even though he does like you more than he’d want to admit- he would never confess

Not likely

Which is what you thought

Until you find out that Sasuke left the village and there’s no point in trying to go after him or anything at all really

It’s a betrayal to you and everyone else

It’s dark by the time you get home and enter your room

You pick up this thing Sasuke had given you- his excuse? It wasn’t worth his time and so he had given it to you

You didn’t care much for his excuse and just kept it on your dresser

Upon closer inspection you noticed a paper sticking out and obviously took it out

It was a letter- one could argue it was sasuke confessing

He went on about how he liked was ok being around you and the paper note wasn’t all that long

Just a few lines (if any)

There was a rip towards the bottom and you were left wondering what it would’ve said

Spoiler - it was Sasukes actual confession that he cowardly ripped off and threw into a body of water, hoping you’d never find it

-

A/n: got a tad carried away

[secretkinkz]

I'm requesting a father Sukuna and Sukuna's daughter's best friend, Y/N. Sukuna  looks at their thighs, low-cut top, and other things during the day and when Y/N's friend is asleep they go to the kitchen to get something to eat and they notice Sukuna sitting at the kitchen table doing work and Y/N's tries to tease him but it backfires. [PS love your work. Hope you are still writing. Much love!]

A/n: OMG, I can't even tell how long it's been since you requested this. I'm so sorry, I didn't know I even HAD submissions! I've been gone for a while but here, I did my best <3

~~~~

P s. Y'all don't think too much Abt the age. Literally. Don't. It might not make sense.

Modern AU

Warnings: Age gap (19/32), broken girl code, spitting, spanking, gagging, choking, hair pulling, male oral and, fem oral.

Enjoy~

So fucking rude, but he's fucking sexy. God, I can't stand him.

You stare at Sukuna from across the room as he stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, his back turned doing God knows what on his phone.

You were over to see Yuromi, his daughter, your best friend. Well, to be honest. You wanted to see him, you've only known Yuromi for 6 months, yesterday you met her dad.

It was your birthday party, her dad dropped her off and you were introduced to him. He nonchalantly nodded and drove off after telling his 21 year old daughter to be safe.

Yeah, she still lives with her dad, because she was afraid of the real world.

Yuromi had always been spoiled and clearly pampered by her father so she was afraid of leaving the house and he was completely fine with that. He was a single father so he doesn't have a reason to deny her.

But seriously, you were interested in him but Yuromi would be pissed if you actually tried him out. Would she? Then again, she was adopted. Sukuna adopted her when she was 10.

God, you wanted him though. To just fuck him, let him bend you over the counter and go balls deep.

His rough voice saying the most disgusting things that would leave you dripping for him. Fuck.

You had a chance, you often caught Sukuna staring at you. So you wore revealing clothes every time you went over. He would watch your ass whenever you bend over, sometimes you'd part your legs so he could see the lace panties you wore.

You squeeze your legs together just thinking about it.

"Hey, come on. Stop ignoring me.." Yuromi cocked her eyebrows, crossing her arms.

"It's late, sorry I'm tired." I mumbled.

"Shit, it is 1 am. Let's go to bed." She stood up from the couching and stretched.

"I'm going to bed dad, goodnight." She went over and hugged him, his kissed her forehead. "Sleep well." He said, as she smiled.

"Don't overwork yourself."

We went upstairs to her room. "Okay, in the morning we'll go to the concert. God, I can't wait." She squealed, hugging you.

You chuckled, she was excited over a classical show. Beethoven's fur Elise, would be performed.

"Alright, I'll wake you up." You waved as you went into the room next to hers..

It was only an hour later when you got hungry, so you decided to go downstairs.

To your surprise, Sukuna was sitting at the table on his laptop.

You slowed down and stared at him for a moment before going into the kitchen. "Don't mind me." You whispered, grabbing a water bottle instead before moving to the table.

"What do you want?" He asked, picking up his pen. "Nothing..." You lean forward, letting your oversized tank top shift a little.

"You know for someone who's only known me for less than 3 months, you sure are comfortable wearing those clothes around my house." He said coldly, meeting your gaze. You nearly melt seeing his intense glare.

"I'm sorry, I'll dress better." You run lick your lips and watch hima s he writes whatever's on his laptop down. "Do you need anything?"

He growls lowly, clearly becoming frustrated.

"Actually, yes.. I'd like to get to know you. Since, you're my best friend's father."

He removed his glasses and looked up.

"What would you like to know?" He asks, making it noticeable that he wasn't interested.

"What are your hobbies, What do you like to eat, your taste in women-"

"If you're only hanging with my daughter just to get at me, I suggest you stop."

"What? Of course not, I love Yuromi. But.." you rhb your feet against his leg.

"It wouldn't hurt wanting her dad."

Sukuna stared at you as you stood up, moving behind him. You place your hands on his shoulders, brushing your lips against his ear.

"You're playing a dangerous game girl."

"I like to play risky sometimes."

Sukuna gripped your wrist and slammed you against the table, pressing his bulge against your ass. "Let's see how long you'll be willing to."

He kicked your legs apart and lifted your shirt. "No panties? So you're used to quickies huh?"

"No, I barely have sex. Why, are you jealous?"

Sukuna slaps your ass, gripping it firmly. "I'm far too grown to be jealous."

You gasp feeling his cold fingers slip between your lips. His free hand reaching under your shirt and gripping your breast. You bite your lips, surpressing your moans, his fingers curl hitting your sensitive spot.

"Whatever you say. you're moving like we have all day."

"I like to take my time, admire something before I make a mess of it."

Sukuna inserts another finger, spreading them apart. "Don't do that." You whine, bucking your hips. "This?"

He spreads them again, like he was stretching your pussy.

"You're practically riding my fingers right now."

You instantly stop moving your hips. "Perhaps you're out of touch, which is why you're taking years."

He smiles slightly as your insult.

Your eyes widened feeling a hot and burning sensation on your ass again, it doesn't stop as he strikes your ass again and again. "Let's see, if I'm out of touch."

Tear prick the end of your eyes as he rubs the painful area. Fuck it get so good. Sukuna thrusts his fingers into your mouth, gagging you as he thrusts them in and out.

Your eyes roll back as your throat grows hot. You struggle to pull back, Sukuna keeps his fingers buried deep. Not even caring that you were turning red and choking.

Feeling your hips twitch, he withdraws his fingers. You inhale, attempting to catch your breath. He collects the drool on the side of your mouth, using it to coat your nipples. You didn't think Sukuna was fucking Sadistic.

"Get on your knees."

You did as he ordered, leaning against the counter and you sat on your knees. You nearly choked on your salvia seeing his dick, it was fucking huge. You couldn't possibly take that.

The tip of his cock red and forming with precum, it was veiny and long.

"Open." But hearing his raspy voice order you around, that was impossible to reject.

You open your mouth, your hands barely wrapping around his length as you take the head into your mouth.

He grunts, watching you try and take all of it. "Shouldn't be greedy."

You glare at him and pull back, going back down and repeat. You eventually speed up, the sounds of your slurping and gagging on his girth is the only thing heard.

As if he'd grown impatient, he tangled his finger in your hair and began thrusting. Your head hitting the wall as he pins you against it. He growls and leans his head back. "Fuck."

You place your hands on his thigh, fighting the urge to finger yourself to his aggression.

Sukuna holds your head still as he slams his cock down your throat, groaning as if you two were the only ones in the house.

Thank God Yuromi was a heavy sleeper, she didn't even wake up to someone banging on her door.

"Shit, your mouth is pretty useful. I like that, the sound of you choking on my dick. It's better than you shamelessly flirting with me."

He slaps your face a few times, before pulling away.

You swallow his load, coughing slightly.

Sukuna grabbed you by the waist and placed you on the counter, spreading your legs.

He went between your legs, wasting no time to start sucking on your folds.

"Mm." You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch him, biting your lip.

"Yes.." Your eyes flutter, his thumb rubbing your clitoris in circular motions as he spits and smears it. So nasty, and filthy, he didn't care how messy he was, he was slurping your juices and enjoying every moment of it.

"Fuck, Suk-Sukuna... ohhh shit shit!" You squirm, gripping his hair as you arch your back off the counter. "Mm, fuck! Keep going, yes yes!" He speeds up, grabbing your legs and placing them on his shoulders as he pushes your knees against your chest.

"God! Mm fuck, baby!" You whimper, panting heavily as you chase your orgasm.

Your toes curls as your mouth falls open, stomach churning as your orgasm waves over you.

Sukuna pulls away, his tongue running over his lips.

He presses his dick against your entrance.

He hasn't even started fucking you yet and you were already tired and overstimulated. You couldn't even take the small steps, how could you possibly handle him fucking your brains out?

When he did start, you were gripping the edges of the counter moaning loudly as he slammed his hips into your ass.

"Fuckin' tight, shit I could fuck this all night." He groaned, yanking your head back as you clenched your teeth. "Open."

He spat in your mouth, you closed your mouth and swallowed. God, whatever this man would throw at you, you would swallow willingly. He asked so fucking sexy, his dick? Even better, shiitt it was stretching you wide.

You were almost screaming as he slapped your ass and brutally fucked your pussy.

He pulled out and turned you on your back, entering with the same force once again. This time he got a better look at your flushed face as you took his cock.

"You like that?"

"M-mm, I fucking love it!" You cried, your eyes rolling back as he wrapped his hand around your throat. "Good, fucking good."

He tightened the grip he had around your throat, his eyes rolling back S you clenched down on his cock. "S-Shit." He released a guttural moan.

It wasn't long before he took you to his bedroom, you found yourself in a mating press as you had the filthiest kiss ever.

He fought the urge to fill your tight, warm pussy with his seed. He wanted to make you a mother, just so he could see his cum drip from all of your holes.

~~~~~~~

A/n: it's 3 am. I need to take my ass to sleep. 😌❤️

[bokettochild]

Hi just letting you know that I'm Obsessed with what you wrote about Legend's uncle. Because, like, my headcanon was that his uncle got older and Legend encouraged him to move in with his grandparents--don't worry I'm older now I can manage the orchard myself--and the distance that formed between them post alttp was enough to make his uncle just a bit too willing to leave Legend behind.

But, like...now I'm imagining Alphon raising this kid, this forgotten prince who has a divine destiny ahead of him. And he tries not to get attached, and slowly starts to encourage Link towards things like farming as his duty to look after him turns into found family. For a short time, Alphon starts to convince himself that maybe they can just live on that isolated farm together without worrying about gods or monsters.

Of course destiny comes knocking. Alphon goes to the castle alone, telling Link to stay behind (to stay safe, stay out of it) as a sort of last ditch effort to keep fate from claiming the boy who has become like a son to him.

When Link shows up anyway, Alphon reasons that it was foolish to see family in someone as far removed from him as a child of the gods. He gives the Hero of Legend instructions on how to proceed, and lets go.

Link loses his uncle in the sewers of Hyrule Castle.

Yes!

Whether Aflon was actually his biological uncle or not (I say yes, but I don't care particularily) he raised this kid with the knowledge that, yeah, he's more then the average small child.

When the rest of the knights are all killed off, he realizes, quite abruptly, that "oh, the prophecy about the hero is referring to him."

I think he loved Legend, truly. You can't be the sole caretaker for a wee babe and not fall in love with them. You can't watch them mimic you and talk like you and do their chores in a mirror of how you do and walk in your literal footsteps; little legs struggling to stretch far enough between holes in the snow- and not fall in love with that child.

Aflon loved Legend with everything in him.

But the kid that he found when he was brought back to life had his own way of doing things, he was wary, he was silent, scared of so many things and rather than following in too-big steps, he makes his own as he darts from brush to bush, from cover to cover like a soldier under fire. He doesn't act like a child anymore, he's not that sweet, gap-toothed kid that Aflon held in his arms just the other day (as far as he is concerned). Yes, he has the same face, but that kid is not his sweet, innocent, gentle, carefree nephew.

But it's still a kid.

So he takes care of him until he can make arrangements for someone else to, because it's still a child, even if it's not his child. He arranges for his parents, Link's grandparents, to take over, telling this kid with Link's face that they're going to the farm for the summer like they always do- except this summer he never comes back to bring him home again.

This summer, once the boy is not his Link is on the farm, he goes back to the house, locks it up, and leaves.

He can't live there without Link, and he can't go back for the kid that replaced his own.

So he wanders through Hyrule, finds a place after some time, settles down, and starts a family of his own. He always wanted kids after all, and now he has a wife and a son.

Except the little one they have is either the exact opposite of his Link, or all too similar to him, and either way that hurts. He's haunted by that little boy he promised the queen he would care for, but he's got no way to find him now.

He might go back once, but Legend's off adventuring, hardly ever home- doesn't really have a home, because the house isn't the same without his uncle and the farm was never truly home either. Maybe he asks the locals, hiding his face so they won't know him, won't tell Link he was there, (maybe they can't recognize anymore him anyway) and all they can tell him is what a good hero that kid became, but he's gone today, as he always is, wandering and restless, wary and unwilling to linger.

So he goes back home.

And I like to imagine he's even more haunted, because Link never wanted to wield a weapon. His Link wanted to be an apple farmer. His Link didn't like to fight. His Link would always cheer that his Uncle would kill all the scary monsters. His Link didn't have blood on his hands.

But the hero is the opposite, and deep down he knows his Link is the Hero.

Which means he failed his mission to protect him. He failed Link. He failed the queen.

And now he has to live with that. All while watching another little boy grow up in front of him. A little boy who idolizes the hero that the village people talk about sometimes. All while wondering if his son will turn out the same way.

[cakesunflower]

lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 12

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11

A/N: hehe i think y'all might enjoy this one. it's a longer one

“Have a good one, see you!” Isla calls out, smiling at the family that leaves The Wreck as she cleans up one of the tables, stacking used cups on the tray she holds in one hand. 

The business day is winding down as the sun begins its slow descent, and Isla is glad her parents decided not to hold the usual business hours this weekend while they’re out of town. Unsurprisingly, it was a long and bustling day, which is always the case during peak tourist season. But Isla doesn’t mind the busy hours, keeping her occupied as she waits tables and cleans up once the customers are gone.

Throughout the day, she does her best not to check the time too often, the hours spent being excited for her plans later that night. Isla booked her and Rafe tickets for a comedy show on the island over after getting dinner; it’s not anything special, like how he made her dinner, but it’s a fun thing to do that she thinks they’d both enjoy. She has been looking forward to it all day and from Rafe’s texts, so has he. His anticipation, funnily enough, makes her stomach flutter even more with excitement.

Not that she can share it with anyone, so she just goes about her day as normally as she can.

Fifty-six minutes before she can clock out, Holly, the assistant manager, comes bursting out of the backroom leading into the kitchen. Isla looks up from the table she’s clearing, the bin of dirty dishes resting against her hip, and her heart drops when she sees the alarmed expression on Holly’s face. “Hey, what’s going on?” Isla asks, putting the bin on the table and meeting Holly by the counter. “Everything okay?”

Holly lets out a shaky breath, fingers running through her hair. “My, uh, grandpa had a heart attack—” Isla’s eyes widen, breath hitching in her throat as she takes a hold of Holly’s trembling hand. “He’s in the hospital. I know it’s last minute, but—”

“Go, go,” Isla cuts her off, squeezing Holly’s hand. “I’ll close out here. Go be with your family.”

Holly nods, eyes glassy. “Thank you, Isla.”

“Of course,” Isla says, watching as Holly moves in a daze, clocking out and gathering her things before she leaves The Wreck.

Isla exhales slowly, worry for her friend tightening her chest. She knows how close Holly is with her grandfather, so she hopes that he will be fine. Shaking her head, Isla turns back to the table to grab the bin, her thoughts slowly drifting to the sudden change of plans. As she hands the bin off to Oliver to take back to the kitchen, Isla faces the reality that she won’t be able to make her date tonight with Rafe. With Holly gone, Isla is the only employee on shift who can close out the restaurant, and with when the restaurant closes and the time it will take for her to close out the register, they will definitely not make it to the show in time.

Shit.

Going behind the counter, Isla sighs and pulls her phone out from the back pocket of her denim shorts, lips twisting to the side in dismay as she texts Rafe.

don’t hate me. Holly had a family emergency so i have to close. might have to rain check :(

She pockets her phone after sending the text, sighing as she doesn’t bother to check the time, since she won’t be getting out of here as soon as she thought. Glancing towards the glass wall that looks out to the outdoor seating area, Isla notes that the sun is setting, painting the sky in a pretty combination of pink, orange, and purple. A plane flies overhead in the distance, its lights blinking as it passes by while Isla wipes a table. 

When she’s ringing up the bill for one of the tables, her phone buzzes, and she pulls it out to see that Rafe has texted her.

Rafe:

Are you closing by yourself?

She’s quick to text him back.

Isla: yeah

Rafe: 

When does the last of the staff leave?

Arching an eyebrow while reading his text, Isla’s pulse skitters as she replies.

Isla: 

9, why?

Rafe: 

I’ll be there.

Her eyes widen when she reads those three words, blinking at the message a couple of times, as though the words will change, before she forces herself to text him again. She asks what he means, what he’s planning, but all Rafe does is send her a smiley face emoji and doesn’t answer otherwise, which has her grunting in both frustration and amusement.

The rest of the time goes by without another word from Rafe, which only makes her suspicions grow as more and more of the other staff clock out for the day. When nine o’clock hits, Isla is the only one at the restaurant, the shadows of the chairs slanting against the floor and walls as she begins the process of balancing out the registers. Except, when 9:05 hits, there’s a knock on the front door of the restaurant, which has been locked, and Isla pauses, staring at the door in weary surprise.

Before she can even call out, she hears a familiar voice on the other side. “Isla, it’s me.”

A surprised exhale escapes her, the corners of her mouth turning up as she hurries from around the counter and to the door, unlocking it quickly before pulling the door open and grinning at the sight of Rafe. Her pulse quickens as he smiles back at her, blue eyes dancing with mirth as he takes in her surprised expression.

“I was looking forward to seeing you all day,” he says as he takes a step toward her, and Isla tilts her chin up to keep her gaze locked with his as he nears her. The breath hitches in Isla’s throat when his hands rest on her waist, her skin exposed thanks to the crop top she wears, the heat of his touch spreading throughout her body as he pulls her flush against him. “I’m too greedy for a raincheck.”

Isla laughs, a hand gently fisting the front of his shirt to pull him towards her. “That makes two of us,” she muses before standing on her toes, and Rafe is quick to oblige by ducking his head to press his lips to hers. The moment he kisses her, Isla moans softly against him, pulling him more towards her and into the restaurant. 

She can’t help but smile into the kiss at the fact that he came to see her, his lips soft as always and the taste of him making heat shoot through her, dampening her underwear the second his tongue slides along hers. Isla’s knees weaken, melting into him as they step further into the restaurant.

“Sorry I had to cancel,” she mumbles against him, her finger trailing along the sharp edge of his jaw.

“It’s okay,” he replies, pulling a giggle out of Isla as Rafe rains kisses down her neck, his hands sliding so his arms can wind around her waist as her skin electrifies everywhere his lips touch. “You’re just doing a friend a favor. You’ve got a good heart, Isla Carrera.” She can feel him smiling against her skin, a breath escaping her as his teeth teasingly graze that sensitive spot where her jaw meets her neck. “It’s one of the many things I like about you.”

She smiles dazedly at the ceiling, eyes fluttering in response to his kisses and words. Rafe has the dangerous, wonderful ability to overwhelm her with his touch, the delicious smell of him, his taste. “Really?” she asks, her voice breathless. “What else is there?”

Rafe chuckles, the sound low in his throat. “Maybe we should shut the door before I tell you, hm?”

“Oh, right,” Isla breathes out. Rafe laughs again, pulling away from her, and though she misses the closeness, she moves to shut and lock the door. But Isla giggles when Rafe’s arm remains winded around her waist, her hands gripping his arm as her back presses to his front. “You gonna let me go?” she asks as she steps to the door, Rafe coming along with her because of how he holds onto her.

“You can still close it,” Rafe muses unapologetically, his arm still protectively wrapped around her.

Isla laughs, but she doesn’t protest, not when she can feel the hard lines of his body against her as she reaches out and shuts the door. “Never thought you’d be the clingy type,” she teases as she locks the door, turning her head ever so slightly to look up at him behind her.

“Neither did I,” Rafe mumbles, loosening his grip enough for Isla to turn around and face him. He’s got that charming smile, the one that makes her heart skip too many beats. “Guess you bring it out in me.”

She shakes her head with a laugh again. “I need to close out the register,” she tells him.

He hums, nodding, and looks around the restaurant. As Isla walks back to go around the counter, he asks, “You need to get any other work done?” When she looks at him, he flashes her a smile, hands in the pockets of his pants. “I can help.”

“Really?” Isla asks, arching an eyebrow in amusement as she types on the register screen. With a playful tilt of her head, she asks, “Have you ever even touched a broom?”

Rafe throws her an affronted look before wiggling his fingers at her. “Where’s the broom?”

Laughing, Isla points to the closet door by the entrance to the kitchen, eyes tracking Rafe as he walks over to it in a confident stride and pulls the door open as she begins counting the money in the register. Her smile remains, a combination of surprised and amused, as Rafe grips the broom in one hand and the pole connecting to the dustpan and heads to the back corner of the restaurant to begin to sweep.

The fluttering in her chest returns as, while she counts, she watches him sweeping the floor, moving the chairs and getting under the tables. Much to her surprise—or maybe she just didn’t give him enough credit—he doesn’t fumble with the broom and pan, and isn't moving around stiffly or awkwardly. But either way, the sight of Rafe Cameron doing her work for her and sweeping her family’s restaurant forms a ball in her throat because much like everything else he does, Rafe does this with confidence, too.

He moves effortlessly around the floor, sweeping and gathering any dust or forgotten straw wrappers into the pan, and Isla loses her count more than once, too distracted by him. Much like everything else she has done with Rafe lately, this also feels surreal, as though if she looks away, he will disappear and that’s. . . Not at all what she wants.

It’s not until Rafe is dumping the dustbin’s contents in the trash that he arches a brow at her. Tone deeply teasing, he asks, “Does it normally take you this long to count the register?”

Heat pools in Isla’s cheeks, too aware of his playful grin because, well, he’s got a point. She usually does it in a few minutes, no problem. But Rafe’s presence is a severe distraction and judging by the gleam in his eyes and the smirk curving at his sinful mouth, he is well aware of the effect he has on her. Especially with how he stands with his hands gripping the top of the broom, standing tall with a straightened back and squared shoulders.

“No,” Isla huffs, locking the box with all of the cash that needs to be placed in the safe, which is in her parents’ office in the back. Picking up the heavy metal box, she mutters in embarrassment, “I’ll be back.”

It doesn’t take long for her to get her work done in the back. When she comes back out, she sees Rafe standing in front of the window that looks out to the outdoor patio of the restaurant, since Isla brought the blinds down on the other window panes save for one, which Rafe stands in front of. 

Her pulse is a steady beat as she approaches him, admiring the moonlight bathing his sharp, handsome features, and smiling shyly when he looks over at her. Despite the mirth dancing in his softening eyes, Isla rolls her bottom lip into her mouth and turns her gaze out the window, feeling a sudden wave of embarrassment wash over her when she notes the sky has darkened, the stars appearing in the cloudless sky.

She bites the corner of her lips, inhaling sharply as she buries her hands in the back pockets of her shorts. And then Rafe bumps his hip to hers, noting the way he’s looking at her curiously when she looks up at him. “What’s that face for?” he murmurs, blue eyes looking over her face.

Isla’s expression turns to one of apology and regret, sighing. “I was looking forward to our date tonight,” she mumbles, distinctly hearing crickets chirping outside in the otherwise quiet of the night. Cringing slightly, she adds, “This is not what I had in mind.”

“Hey,” Rafe chuckles, turning to face her and her breath hitches when he grasps her chin between fingers to turn her face towards him. His thumb gently presses to her chin as he dips his own chin, maintaining eye contact as he tells her, “It’s okay. This is good—”

“Come on,” she cuts him off with a scoff, shaking her head and effectively making his hand drop away—which she misses already. “You cooked me dinner and I had you come here and help clean and close out my family’s restaurant. This isn’t romantic at all,” she deadpans, shoulders sinking in dismay.

The corner of his mouth curves up, hinting at a dimple. He hums in thought, head tilting back as he gazes up at the ceiling for a moment. “How about we make it romantic, then?” he asks as he looks back down at her. “This time. . .” His finger hooks around the loop of her shorts and Isla lets out a quiet gasp of a lap when he gives her a sharp tug towards him, the warmth of his body seeping into hers. “You cook for me.”

Isla blinks, eyebrows rising. “Here?”

“Why not?” Rafe asks. “We’re at a restaurant. There’s food here, right? I’m sure something can be whipped up.”

He’s not wrong—except she can’t really think straight because, while his finger remains hooked around the belt loop, his thumb grazes along her skin just above the band of her shorts. The featherlight touch shoots sparks of electricity from where he touches throughout the rest of her body. Goosebumps prickle her skin as he brushes his thumb back and forth, her throat drying as she tries to get her thoughts straight.

Rafe dips his head towards her and Isla’s breath stutters when he brushes his nose along hers. “Right?” he repeats in a murmur.

Get it together, Isla. “Right,” she says, clearing her throat a little too loudly, because Rafe smirks and she blushes furiously. “Um—” She glances towards the kitchen, running through the things she knows how to make and searching for something that’s quick and easy. Looking back at Rafe, she asks, “How do you feel about chicken tacos?”

Rafe grins. “Sounds delicious,” he says, jutting his chin towards the kitchen. “I’ll help.”

She raises her eyebrows in surprise, but grins when he gives her a nudge towards the kitchen. The first thing Isla does is gather all of the ingredients and then they split up the work; she slices the chicken breasts, while Rafe grabs a small bowl to mix together all of the different spices and seasonings. 

They work side by side as Rafe asks, “You think we could get away with spending a day in Chapel Hill again?”

Isla smiles, glancing up at him. “I think so,” she answers. “You gotta take me to Sutton’s, remember?” 

He glances at her with that boyish grin as he adds some paprika. “I haven’t forgotten,” he murmurs, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was relieved that she remembered their conversation about Sutton’s, too. 

Another sneaky date to look forward to.

*****

“This is fucking delicious,” Rafe mumbles after swallowing a bite, using a napkin to wipe at his mouth as his wide-eyed gaze meets Isla’s. 

She grins behind her napkin, swallowing her own mouthful of taco. “No need to sound so surprised,” she says teasingly. “I do work at a restaurant, y’know.”

He lets out a short laugh, going in for another bite. “Yes, ma’am.”

Isla chuckles, taking a sip from the can of Pepsi as she looks out at the water overlooking the outdoor patio of the restaurant. It glitters under the moonlight, a sort of replica from their first date at the Cameron house, but this time on Isla’s turf. The candle in the glass holder flickers between them on the table, her hair out of its bun and falling down her shoulders in waves, the breeze dancing through the strands.

Her phone buzzes, the screen lighting up with a message from Kie. 

From: Kie🐬

soooo they’re playing a double feature, so i won’t be home until like 1 or 2, depending if Cleo and i get something to eat after

Isla’s eyebrows flick up, feeling Rafe’s gaze on her as she texts her sister back.

Isla:

all good, have fun!!!

“Kie’s not gonna be home until late,” Isla tells Rafe casually, tongue poking her cheek as she leans back in the chair, gaze lifting from her phone to meet Rafe’s.

His own gaze drops to her phone. “Oh yeah?” he asks as his eyes slowly meet hers once more.

The look in his eyes makes her stomach flutter, even if she put it there purposefully. But she can’t help it; she’s been imagining doing more than just kissing. The guy is a hell of a kisser, no doubt, and every time he touches her, Isla is sure her skin is going to alight with fire. In just those moments they have shared so far, Isla’s body reacts to Rafe in a way it has never done with anyone else, and she’s desperate to see how far that feeling, that sensation, goes.

Judging by the look in his eyes, she knows he is, too, and it only further intensifies the butterflies in her stomach. “Mhm,” she hums in reply, the corner of her mouth ticking up as she tilts her head to the side. “How about a change of scenery?”

Rafe’s eyes flicker over her face, like he’s searching her for any hesitancy, but Isla has never been more sure of anything. This thing with Rafe—this relationship—came quickly despite Isla’s initial hesitancy to even acknowledge her feelings. But now that she knows exactly how she feels for Rafe, knowing he feels the same, and acknowledging the way her body reacts whenever he just looks at her, Isla doesn’t want to pump the brakes to take things further.

He smiles, then. Charming and boyish as he tilts his head to the side. “I’m following your lead.”

Those four words are how, about twenty minutes later, Isla is pulling into the driveway of her house, eyebrows furrowing at her rearview mirror when she doesn’t see Rafe pull up on his bike behind her. “Where the hell is he?” she mumbles to herself as she kills the engine and hops out, shutting the door behind her and hiking her bag on her shoulder as she walks to the back of her car.

The automatic porch lights are on, as well as some of the sconces along the fence, so it’s not totally dark as she approaches the street, looking for Rafe. She spots him a second later, walking up the sidewalk towards her, and she lets out a confused chuckle as she asks, “What’re you doing? Where’d you park?”

“A couple blocks down,” he answers, gesturing with his head over his shoulder. “Just in case Kiara showed up early and saw my bike in your driveway,” he adds as he nears where Isla waits for him. Rafe comes to a stop in front of her, towering over her, as that slow smile curves his mouth. “That would’ve been fun to explain.”

Isla lets out a gentle laugh, her hand reaching for Rafe’s and her cheeks warm when he instantly intertwines their fingers together. “Come on,” she says, tugging him forward and leading him back to her house, welcoming the flurry of butterflies tickling her stomach.

The house is quiet, of course, when they enter, the only sound coming from her keys jingling together as she flicks on the floor lamp while Rafe locks the door behind them. When she turns to look at him, her stomach flips when she catches his blue eyes curiously wandering around the house as he slowly makes his way over to the long table along the wall that displays several picture frames. 

As she wanders over to him, Rafe muses, “You’ve always been shorter than Kie, huh?”

Isla huffs out a laugh as she stands next to him, looking at the pictures. Most of them are of Isla and Kie throughout many ages; because they’re Irish twins, their mom often dressed them up in matching outfits when they were younger, only difference being in color. They also looked quite alike as kids, though Kie always towered over her, and at this point, the differences in their features is prominent.��

“Yeah, Kie got Dad’s height and I got Mom’s,” Isla says, smiling. Her favorite picture of her and Kie is of the two of them mid-jump on the trampoline they used to have in the backyard, now long gone. They were eight and nine years old, wide grins on their faces, hair flying around them and hands up in the air.

She watches Rafe pick up a frame of Isla’s first grade yearbook picture, grinning widely to show off her dimples as well as the top two missing front teeth. Her gaze lifts to see Rafe smiling at the photo, soft and fond, making her cheeks warm as he murmurs, “Adorable.”

Isla rolls her smiling lips into her mouth, chin dipping in mild embarrassment. “If I knew you’d come here to look at all my baby pictures, I would’ve thought this through some more.”

Rafe chuckles under his breath, putting the frame down. “And why, exactly, did you bring me here?” he slowly drawls as he turns to face Isla.

She catches the knowing smirk that dances on the edge of his mouth, the kind that makes those butterflies in her stomach go into overdrive and heat curl low in her abdomen. The delicious kind of tension sparks between them, the breath hitching in Isla’s throat when Rafe’s hand settles on her hip for a brief second before his arm slowly slides around her bare waist as he steps towards her, effectively closing the gap between them as he looks down at her expectantly.

Her hand slides up his chest, the heat of his hand pressing to the small of her back, skin against skin because of her crop top, as she murmurs, “If you don’t know then I guess I haven’t been as obvious about it as I thought.”

His cologne wraps around her, her skin warming with their proximity as she watches the way his darkening blue eyes dip to her lips, which part under his intense stare. Rafe’s head dips, nose brushing along hers that sends electricity shooting throughout her body in an immediate, primal response.

Isla feels Rafe’s hand slide down from her back until he is cupping her ass through her denim shorts, heart stuttering when he squeezes. Desire mounts, throat drying with need as only inches of space remains between her lips and Rafe’s, every breath they take bringing them teasingly closer and frustratingly apart.

“Maybe try one more time,” Rafe says quietly, every word making his lips brush against hers, those electric sparks slowly growing into lightning strikes.

Isla leans into him, her pulse pounding in her ears and breathing already beginning to grow shallow as she is suddenly fueled by a surge of confidence and says, “My room’s upstairs.” Her bottom lip lightly drags along his. “Let’s go.”

Rafe’s jaw clenches, as though he’s trying to keep his own feelings, his wants, at bay. Isla watches him through lust-laden hooded eyes, wanting to know what it’d be like to see him lose control in this way. Kissing her and touching her in the way that he has so far is one thing, but Isla wants more. And if this guy is as good in bed as he is in kissing, then Isla would be in for a good, thrilling time.

His throat bobs once before he says lowly, “Lead the way.”

Her gaze meets his, immediately seeing the want and intention in his eyes, and as Isla’s pulse beats wildly, she takes Rafe’s hand in hers and takes a few steps back, pulling him along. Despite wanting to practically sprint upstairs, Isla teasingly moves slowly, gaze on him as she moves backwards, waiting to see how long it will take for Rafe’s resolve to snap.

They’re only halfway up the stairs when it does.

A low growl escapes him, and a startled—yet delighted—gasp escapes Isla when Rafe uses his grip on her hand to tug her closer. For a split second, Isla worries she’s going to trip down the stairs, but she should know better with Rafe. He immediately picks her up, muffling her squeal of surprise with a searing kiss as her legs instinctively wrap around Rafe’s hips, his hands gripping the back of her thighs as he carries her up the rest of the way. Isla’s own hands cup his cheeks, head tilting as she greedily deepens the kiss, moaning as her tongue slides along and tastes his.

“Which door?” Rafe grunts into the kiss and, through her lust filled haze, Isla realizes they’ve reached the top.

“Right hallway. Second door on the left,” Isla pants against him, reveling in the hard frame of his body against hers as her heart threatens to burst out of her chest when he walks.

He blindly makes his way, following Isla’s directions, and if Isla wasn’t too busy being totally lost in the kiss, she’d be impressed that he hasn’t tripped over or bumped into anything, having never been here before. In the dark, no less. But Rafe gets them to her bedroom, their kiss slowing as Rafe carefully lowers her and turns them until Isla’s back is pressed to the closed bedroom door, her body trapped between that and Rafe’s body.

She feels his hands slide to her bare waist, his touch igniting a fire just like his kisses, until the kiss slows until they’re pulling back ever so slightly to catch their breaths. Isla’s heart thunders wildly, hands on Rafe’s shoulders as her eyes flutter open to look at him with heavy lidded eyes. Her bedroom is dark, the only light coming through the windows between parted curtains, moonlight and the lamps in the backyard glowing into the room. It highlights Rafe’s silhouette, standing before her like some angel, and it does nothing to calm her racing pulse as Rafe cups her cheek, his thumb stroking her bottom lip.

Isla sees the subtle hesitance in his blue eyes that seem to be searching hers. She understands why when he gruffly asks, “You sure you want this?”

They’ve already crossed a line, Isla knows. But there’s also this acknowledgement that if they go through with this, then there really is no going back. And while that idea should have filled Isla with some kind of hesitation of her own, maybe double check if, in the long run, this was a good idea. But Isla doesn’t want to think. All she wants is the man in front of her, a truth she can no longer deny herself. She won’t let Rafe deny it, either. Come hell or highwater.

No matter what they may have to deal with in the future with her friends, they will do it together. Isla is sure of it.

To prove as much to Rafe, she doesn’t answer him verbally. Instead, Isla locks gazes with him and presses a hand to his chest and applies some pressure, forcing him to take a step back. She sees the disappointment—and understanding—flicker in his eyes, and she knows he thinks that she has changed her mind. Isla gently bites down on her bottom lip to keep herself from smiling too much, gripping the hem of her crop top before effortlessly pulling it over her head.

Her hair falls messily around her shoulders, but she doesn’t miss the way Rafe’s eyebrows shoot up, or the way his darkened gaze drinks in the sight of her in her lacy baby pink bra. Her layered necklaces remain displayed around her neck, body tingling when Rafe’s gaze dips to explore the newly exposed skin as, with a crazed pulse, Isla’s fingers find the button and zip of her shorts and she undoes those, too. A few seconds later, she stands in nothing but her bra and matching underwear, jewelry gleaming in the dark and blood rushing at the way Rafe looks at her.

She is rarely this bold, but something about Rafe spurs her, gives her a much needed push. Maybe it’s the look in his eyes as he takes her in that fuels her confidence, staring at her as though he is hopeless to look away. Just his stare alone has her wanting to clench her thighs together, wetness pooling in her underwear. It’s slightly cold in her room as the summer breeze flows into her room through the open windows, the curtains dancing in response, but Isla is hot in Rafe’s proximity, with the anticipation and hope for what’s to come next.

Isla takes in a silent breath when Rafe steps towards her, slow and deliberate, his own eyes darkened with lust as he meets her gaze. She lifts her chin and asks, “Do you need more convincing?”

Rafe is never one to back down from a challenge of any kind, Isla knows. Which is why she has to bite back a grin when Rafe closes the distance between them upon hearing her words, his hand gripping the back of her head and crushing his lips to hers. All bets are off after that.

Isla’s hands immediately fist the front of his shirt, easily parting her lips under his to greet his tongue with hers once more, reveling in the groan rumbles low in his throat as his warm hands grip her hips and he turns her, moving her backward toward her bed. When the back of her legs hit the edge of the bed, Rafe pushes her down and Isla happily pulls him down with her, still kissing him and loving the feel of his body, fully clothed, on top of her.

Her fingers thread through his hair as his lean, muscular body slots between her legs perfectly, Rafe’s fingers teasing the band of her underwear as he kisses the air out of her lungs. Isla gasps when he trails kisses down her jaw, her head tilting back into the mattress as he sucks on that spot in her neck, her grip on his hair tightening and moaning when he uses his teeth to gently bite, tongue to soothe. His hand slides from her hip to between her legs, and a whimper escapes Isla when he brushes his knuckles along the flimsy, damp cloth covering her pussy, her hips jerking with need.

“Rafe, please—” she says breathily, eyelashes fluttering at the ceiling when she is sure what she is feeling is Rafe’s finger hooking around the middle of her underwear that covers her. Then there’s the deliciously tight, stinging sensation of the fabric suddenly growing taut, thinning until it’s pressing sharply between her pussy lips, and her mouth drops open in a silent moan when she feels the wicked sensation of Rafe’s tongue licking up the center through the stringed cloth.

Oh, God. Her fingers remain in his hair, holding him right where she needs him. Stars already begin to dot behind Isla’s closed lids, heart pounding in her chest and head as Rafe’s tongue teasingly flickers, one hand pushing her thighs further apart. “How about it, Isla?” Rafe asks, his gruff voice making goosebumps break across her skin. She barely manages to open her eyes enough to look at him, to see him watching her with those eyes from between her legs, the sliver of moonlight bathing him just so to make his eyes glow silver. “Gonna let me have a proper taste?”

He is somehow her angel and all of her wicked fantasies come to life as she all but begs, “Please.”

She never thought she’d beg Rafe Cameron for anything, but she can’t bring herself to be embarrassed about it.

Not when the corner of his mouth curls up into a smirk before he gives a tug to her underwear, pulling it down and moving her legs to the side to tug the flimsy material off, before Rafe wraps each arm around her thigh and pulls Isla towards him. She hears the faint sound of his knees finding the carpeted floor, raising herself up on her elbows to catch the moment Rafe licks a strip up her center and Isla damn near trembles at the electric sensation.

With his arms binding around her thighs and hands gripping her hips, Rafe keeps her close, having her on the edge of the bed, and the air is sucked out of Isla’s lungs as Rafe’s mouth works against her. Distantly, she can’t believe this is happening, but presently, she is already sensitive, feeling every minute movement of his tongue. When Rafe’s tongue flicks against her clit, Isla’s back arches off the bed with a sound that’s a half cry, half gasp. It makes colors dot her closed eyelids, Rafe’s grip on her hips unforgiving as he keeps her in place, his mouth continuing its delicious assault as he licks at her like a man starved.

Isla’s own fingers remain in his hair, keeping him close, her heart thundering so harshly it deafens her to anything else. “I fucking knew it,” Rafe growls against her, pulling away enough to brush a kiss against her inner thigh.

“Knew what?” Isla asks, panting, as she all but stops herself from demanding he keep doing what he was doing.

But Rafe doesn’t leave her hanging too much, his tongue teasing along her inner lips that has Isla moaning. “Knew you’d taste this good—better than I imagined,” he replies and then he sucks on her clit, and Isla can’t think of anything else but him and that sinful mouth.

“Oh, God, Rafe,” she moans, hips moving against him. She finds enough will power through her lusty haze to look down at him, stomach clenching at the sight of him eating her out—and so clearly enjoying it. Her head falls back against, gasping. “Please.”

She’s not entirely sure what she’s pleading for, but apparently Rafe does. “Greedy little thing,” he murmurs before Isla feels his finger sink into her opening, thrusting in and out in time with his tongue fucking her.

She can’t make sense of anything after that.

The combination of his finger and tongue electrify her from the inside out, her bedroom filled with the sounds of Isla’s moans, Rafe’s appreciative groans, and the crude sounds of his tongue lapping at her, bringing her closer and closer to that glorious edge. Then he does something with his tongue, curls his finger just the right way, and Isla is a goner.

Her climax hits like a tidal wave, white flashing across her closed lids and a sharp cry falling from her as her orgasm wracks through her body. Rafe doesn’t relent, licking her through it, taking everything she’s giving him. When her limbs become limp and eyelids heavy, trying to catch her breath, Rafe finally pulls away with one last kiss to her sensitive slit.

Isla’s eyes flutter open, breathing heavily as she watches Rafe stand at the end of the bed and begin to strip out of his clothes. Her already hyper pulse begins to race once more, not a moment of relief, with every inch of his skin that’s exposed as he rids of his shirt, and then his pants and boxer briefs in one go. Rafe’s darkened eyes look down at her still laying in bed, the desire clear in his face that it makes her skin flush even more as he runs his fingers through her hair.

Her gaze dips and the air hitches in her throat at the sight of his cock; hard and flushed at the tip, bigger than she expected. But it’s a mouth watering sight, and she’s not sure if she wants him in her mouth or her pussy first.

His lips gleam ever so slightly from his previous ministrations as Rafe slowly climbs back onto the bed, crawling over until he hovers above her. When their eyes meet, Rafe’s expression softens, looking at her in a way that makes Isla melt. She pushes up to kiss him, smiling when he instantly returns it, lips moving against hers as Isla reaches behind her to unclasp her bra and tosses it aside. 

Rafe’s hand slides up her side until he’s cupping her left breast, the feel of his large hand making her arch into his touch as the kiss deepens and he kneads her breast. “How is every part of you so perfect?” Rafe breathes into the kiss, his thumb flicking across her hardened nipple. “You drive me fucking crazy, Isla.”

“Good,” she murmurs, one hand in his hair. “Do something about it.”

“So bossy.” She can feel his smirk in his kiss before he pulls back slightly. “You got a condom?”

Isla arches an eyebrow up at him. “You don’t have one?”

Rafe snorts out a laugh. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t carry them around.”

Isla grins, cheeks pink. “Maybe you should.” She taps his shoulder. “Here.”

He pulls back to give her room to turn towards her bedside table, on her stomach and giggling when she feels Rafe’s hand lightly smack her ass as she pulls open the bottom drawer, digs blindly around for a second, and pulls out a condom. As Rafe puts it on after she hands it to him, Isla bites her bottom lip, the anticipation palpable as she pushes herself up to brush her lips against his.

“Can I ride you?” she asks, smirking slightly when she sees Rafe’s gaze tighten with desire.

She feels his hand slide to the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair as he exhales sharply. “If I ever say no to that question, then I’d have officially lost my mind.”

Isla laughs breathily and Rafe, with an arm around her, turns them so he’s the one on his back, head at the pillows, and Isla bites back a grin as she straddles him and, with a thrumming heart, her hand wraps around his cock. Rafe’s hands settle on her thighs as Isla moves until she’s hovering right over his cock, and when she locks her gaze with his, his lips parted in anticipation as he gives her a single nod, she slowly sinks down.

Her own lips part and a sharp breath escapes her as she sinks lower and lower, unable to keep herself from moaning as Rafe’s cock stretches her until she is fully seated. And oh, God, it’s a feeling she has never experienced before, a beautiful sensation of completion that robs her of her breath. Rafe’s abs clench in response, making her involuntarily clench around him with a soft whimper.

Rafe’s fingers dig into her thighs, his head tipping back and exposing the strong column of his neck as he lets out a quiet groan through gritted teeth. Isla tries to catch her breath—hopelessly—as her eyes squeeze shut for a moment to gather her wits, to adjust to the size of him filling her up so Goddamn deliciously.

“Fuck, baby,” Rafe hisses, and that’s enough to get Isla to move as she lifts herself up, weight on her knees on the mattress and hands on his torso, the air expelling out of her lungs as she pulls up enough until just the head of his cock is brushing against her sensitive pussy. His grip on her hips tighten, but Rafe lets her have control, her eyes meeting his glazed ones as she sinks back down again, lungs tightening as she continues her movements to set a pace.

Already, Isla knows that Rafe has ruined her for anyone else. Up and down, up and down, she moves along his length, his touch burning and her skin on fire as he watches her, his blue eyes glued on the way his cock buries inside of her when she sits down before rising back up. “God, fuck,” Rafe grunts, pushing himself up and wrapping his arms around Isla’s waist, their fronts pressing together.

The sudden press of his skin against hers has Isla’s lips parting and head tilting back, feeling one of Rafe’s hands threading through her hair and gripping tightly to keep her head tilted back. She somehow maintains her rhythm with the new press of his skin, his fingers in her hair and, all of a sudden, she feels his lips on her throat, kissing and licking as she bounces on his cock, the warmth between them easily increasing into an inferno. Distantly, she can barely make out the sound of her bed creaking beneath them under the sounds of her pants and Rafe’s groans.

“Come here, come here,” Rafe murmurs and a gasp of a giggle escapes Isla when he turns them until she’s on her back once more, his fingers brushing away her dark hair that had fallen over her face before leaning back, knees on the mattress and hooking her legs around his hips.

He looks like a god in the silver moonlight, a thin sheen of sweat glistening his chiseled muscles, dirty blonde hair messy from her fingers running through it. Isla’s already fiery skin heats up even more, if possible, under his intense gaze and she finds herself reaching forward, nails teasingly scraping down his muscled torso as she rasps, “Please.”

Any semblance of control Rafe still had snaps and, with a low growl that makes her clench around him, he sets an unforgiving, delicious pace. Isla is hopeless in keeping herself quiet, a combination of moans and Rafe’s name falling past her as he pounds into her, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling her room as she fists the comforter beneath her, while her other hand slides down to circle her clit. 

Her head spins, pulse crazed, as Rafe grips her hips, tight enough to leave bruises that she could admire in the morning light. Isla’s head tilts back, eyes rolling back and shutting as she gets lost in the stars that explode behind her eyes every time Rafe hits her in the perfect spot, and she needs something to give her some semblance of reality before she loses herself completely—though, not that she would complain. Still, Isla reaches for a pillow, bringing it next to her and turning her head into it, muffling her cries and moans into it.

But it’s short lived, because the pillow is snatched from her and she gasps in both surprise and at the way Rafe’s pace suddenly slows out of nowhere, rolling his hips to slowly slide into her. The next breath shudders out of her as Rafe moves over her, his nose brushing against hers and Isla wants to kiss him again as he murmurs, “I want to fucking hear you. No one’s home, baby. Let it out.”

He pulls all the way out, Isla clenching on nothing but air as a whimper leaves her at the emptiness, and through heavy lids she sees Rafe’s mouth curve into a breathless smirk. The tension in his jaw, his neck, tells her he’s holding himself back from burying into her once more as he gently moves her hand away so his own fingers can tease and circle her sensitive clit.

Isla arches into him, lips parted as Rafe’s teeth gently latch onto her bottom lip, tugging it into his mouth just as he oh-so slowly slides back into her. The air is locked in her throat as Rafe growls, “Let me hear you.”

And then he pinches her clit and she can’t stay quiet even if she tries, her back arching off the bed with a sharp cry as her hand flies to the back of Rafe’s head, fingers tangling in his hair as he returns to his brutal, greedy pace. His name is a chant on her lips and Rafe hits that spot once again and it’s over for Isla right then and there.

Her second climax hits her blindingly, body shaking as it crashes over her like a tidal wave, Rafe’s thrusts unrelenting as she rides through it until she feels him tense up a moment later before he is also coming undone on top of her. They cling to each other like a lifeline, their breathing ragged yet still in time as Rafe collapses on top of her, Isla’s fingers in his hair as his body presses to her and she welcomes the weight of him.

Their bodies are slick with sweat, Isla staring dazedly and absently at the ceiling as she feels Rafe’s lips against her neck as he, too, catches his breath. Every hard, solid inch of him presses into her soft flesh, the feeling one Isla doesn’t think she will ever get used to—or get tired of. She’s sure Rafe can feel her thundering heart, just how she can feel his as they bask in the afterglow, catching their breaths.

Staring at the ceiling fan, Isla’s sluggish thoughts slowly catch up to her, but the one that is louder than the rest is I just slept with Rafe.

And it was mind-fucking-blowing.

Nothing else matters, nothing else is important in this moment as Isla tugs her bottom lip into her mouth, feeling herself smile and cheeks flush with a newfound heat. Her fingers continue to absently run through his hair, letting out a soft sigh through her silly smile, just as Rafe asks, “You doin’ okay?”

Her heart swells at his softly spoken question, breath hitching yet her smile remaining when she feels the tips of his fingers brushing up and down her side in a featherlight touch. “I’m great,” Isla answers truthfully, and maybe Rafe hears the smile in her voice because he lifts her head, resting his weight on his arm by her side as he gazes down at her with a searching look. As though he wants to double check, himself, that she means it.

The way Rafe watches her makes Isla feel exposed—more so than what they just did, which is amusing, as heat pools in her cheeks once more. There’s a pretty flush to Rafe’s cheeks, too, which makes her stomach flutter, as blue eyes drink in the sight of her. “Yeah?” he asks, his fingers retreating from his side to brush away strands of her hair from her cheek.

She looks into those eyes, like two pools rippling with a combination of emotions that tighten Isla’s throat. Later, there will be time for her to replay the night, to calculate and pick apart every single thing she has felt. But for now, Isla raises a hand so her fingers can gently play with his side bangs, the smile that tugs on her lips soft and genuine as she answers simply, “Yeah.”

[bullet-prooflove]

Stay Tonight: Dwight Manfredi x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @skellyagogo @sca3a @kenbechillin @mandy426

Companion piece to:

Dior - Dwight wakes up to the scent of Dior and lipstick on his chest.

Gunpowder & Roses - Dwight's enemies make a mistake when they come after you.

Hell of A Message - You send a message to your ex Bill.

The Cowboy At Your Door - Your ex Bill shows up in response to your message.

You’re tired.

Dwight can see that the moment you open the door to him. Your smile doesn’t quite meet your eyes and there’s a weariness in you that he’s never seen before. He realises that’s because you hide this part of yourself, the human side, the vulnerable side. He wants you to know you don’t have to do that with him, that he wants every part of you, not just the persona you put on for everybody else.

“You gonna let me take care of you tonight?” He asks you as he leans in the doorway, the black leather overnight bag clasped in his hand.

“I’m too tired to fuck.” You tell him and he smiles because he finds your forthrightness very refreshing.

“Well I’d like to think I’m a good cuddler.” He tells you and it’s your turn to smile because it’s been a long time since you’ve gone to bed with a man that hasn’t wanted something from you.

He takes his time undressing you, his fingers undoing the each of the buttons of the dress shirt you’re wearing as his gaze stays fixed on yours. You’re beautiful even with the bruising. A masterpiece draped in cotton and ink. This thing between the two of you, it may have started as a very physical attraction but it’s become more far more than that over the past few weeks.  The fabric flutters from your shoulders, falling to the floor before Dwight helps you to remove your bra and panties. He picks up the blue and white striped pyjama set you’ve already laid out across the bed, helping you into the elasticated shorts before drawing the shirt up your shoulders and fastening each of the buttons.

“Thank you.” You say softly as his thumb ghosts along your jaw and he realises it’s been a long time since someone has looked after you.

“You don’t have to thank me.” He whispers, his mouth capturing yours in a tender kiss. “This is what you do when you care about someone.”

He gets you settled into bed before he begins to unpack his own overnight bag, setting the items down onto dressing table and chair. He likes the look of his things intermingled with yours, the blend of masculinity and femininity, he wonders if this is what it could look like in the future if you continue down this road.

“Dwight.” You say with a hint of amusement as he pulls out his clothing. “Did you bring pyjamas?”

“I did.” He says as he turns to face you, holding up the black silk bottoms. “I thought I’d bring the  appropriate attire considering we’re having our first sleepover.”

The two of you have fucked before but he never wakes up with you, you always leave before the sun rises. Him being here tonight, it changes things, it shows that he’s invested, the fact you’re letting him stay, it shows that you are too.

“I hope you don’t snore.” He says as he climbs into bed alongside of you. His arm wraps around your waist, gathering you up close. Your legs tangle with his as he tucks you in against his chest.

“I wouldn’t know.” You tell him, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “You’re the first man to sleep over since I bought the place.”

“That seems fitting considering you were my first.” He whispers, his lips brushing over yours.

His fingertips trace over your features and he can feel your body starting to relax against him as your eyes flutter closed. You’re breathing starts to even out and you nuzzle in a little closer, your palm coming to rest on the space where his heart resides in his chest.

People think that sex is the most intimate thing you can do with a person but Dwight thinks it’s this. Putting your faith in someone else when you’re at your most exposed, it’s not something people in your line of work do. He thinks it speaks volumes about the direction your relationship is heading.

“Good night baby.” He whispers, his lips ghosting over your temple. “I hope you have the sweetest damn dreams.”

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