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glossymendes · 8 months ago

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10 Times Drew Starkey and His Actress Girlfriend Had Fans Swooning

Drew Starkey x actress!reader

word count: 2k???

masterlist

fluff, soft drew and i’m literally melting

1. The Subtle Hand Hold

At a high-profile red carpet event, Drew and Y/N stood side by side, looking effortlessly glamorous as they posed for photos. As the flashes went off, Drew subtly brushed his pinky against Reader’s. Fans watching the livestream noticed the soft touch immediately. Just a few seconds later, Drew quietly interlaced their fingers, giving her hand a comforting squeeze as she smiled up at him.

livestream comments:

@fan1: Did y’all see the way Drew just HAD to hold her hand? My heart can’t take it.

@couplegoalsfan: Power couples don’t need to be over the top. Drew and Y/N’s quiet love speaks volumes.

@obxbesties: THE HAND HOLD. I’m not okay. Someone hold me like Drew holds her.

JonathanDaviss✔︎ reposted the video: “Smooth, Starkey.”

2. “She’s My Rock” Moment

During an interview with Entertainment Tonight, Drew was asked about balancing his hectic schedule. He didn’t hesitate to credit his girl, saying, “Honestly? She’s my rock. I couldn’t do any of this without her support.” The interviewer smiled as Y/N looked visibly moved, her hand instinctively reaching for his.

youtube comments:

@fan4lif: When a man knows his queen is his foundation, that’s real love.

@readerfanclub: Drew calling her his rock while she looks at him like he hung the stars? BRB sobbing🥹

@itsmeari: Find someone who talks about you like Drew talks about Y/N.

ChaseStokes✔︎ reposted the clip “We all need a Y/N in our lives.”

3. The Matching Outfits

At the premiere of one of Y/N films, the couple turned heads in subtly coordinated outfits—Drew in a navy suit with a matching pocket square and Y/N in a sleek navy gown with intricate beading. Fans noticed how their looks complemented each other without feeling forced.

tiktok comments:

@fashiondaiy: Drew and Y/N’s stylist deserves a raise. The coordination is impeccable.

@fanpage14: You know you’re in sync when your outfits slay together. Power couple vibes!

@obsssedfan: They don’t just attend events; they OWN them.

Even the film’s director commented, “Forget the movie; people are here for them.”

4. Drew’s Protective Side

At a fan meet-and-greet, a fan jokingly asked if they could get a solo picture with Y/N. Drew, standing just behind her, playfully crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Hey, I’m not chopped liver!” he teased, earning laughter from the crowd. He then added, “But okay, I’ll allow it. Just take care of her, alright?”

madelyncline story replays:

@fan12: Drew pretending to be jealous is the cutest thing ever. Protect her at all costs!

@teamdrewnreader: Y/N’s biggest fan is Drew, and it shows every time.

@fangirl: The way he says, ‘Take care of her.’ STOP, I CAN’T.

MadelynCline✔︎ add to story a video of them “Drew’s protective big bad boyfriend energy is unmatched.”

5. Caught in the Act

A behind-the-scenes video from a press junket showed Drew fussing with Y/N’s hair. She was talking to a reporter, oblivious to Drew as he smoothed a stray strand. When she finally noticed, she laughed, “Are you my stylist now?” Drew shrugged, grinning. “Just trying to make you look perfect for the camera.”

interview comments:

@fanxoo: Imagine having a man who cares about you looking flawless. Drew, you’ve set the bar.

@perfectionpair: The way he fixed her hair like it’s second nature. We love a supportive king.

@flawlessfan: He’s her biggest cheerleader and her impromptu stylist???

Rudy Pankow joked in the comments, “Drew’s available for hair tips, folks. DM him.”

6. “We’re a Team” Speech

On another red carpet, a reporter asked how the couple manages the pressures of fame. Drew replied, “We’ve always said we’re a team. Whether it’s in life, on set, or handling the craziness of this industry, we’re in it together.” Y/N smiled up at him, echoing, “We make each other better.”

twitter comments:

@teamgoals: They’re a team, and it shows. Nothing but respect for this duo.

@couplpower: When love and partnership go hand in hand, you get Drew and Y/N.

@relationshipency: If they ever break up, love isn’t real.

Jonathan Daviss reacting to this clip of them “I’m crying, and I’m not even in this relationship.”

7. The Inside Joke

During a group interview for Outer Banks, Drew referenced an inside joke between him and Y/N. When the interviewer asked what it was, Drew smirked and said, “Oh, it’s just something silly. She knows what I mean.” Y/N chuckled, shaking her head, “He’s never letting that one go.”

youtube comments:

@whatthejoke: Okay, what’s the joke, and how do we get in on it?

@insideteam: I need to know what this joke is. The curiosity is killing me!

@investigatorfan: Drew and Y/N’s inside jokes are now my life goal.

Chase added in the interview “Inside jokes are for couples, but they’re letting us suffer. Rude.”

8. Y/N’s Name Drop

During a fan Q&A, someone asked Drew about his favorite on-set memory. Without skipping a beat, he launched into a story about working on a film with his girl. “Honestly, every scene she’s in is a masterclass. She’s insanely talented.” His face lit up as he spoke, and Y/N playfully nudged him, “Stop, you’re making me blush.”

comments:

@obssessedwithlove: Drew bragging about Y/N is the content I signed up for.

@favoritefan: Every scene? Every single one? He’s her biggest fan, and we love to see it.

@lovestoryfan: Man, if someone doesn’t hype me like Drew does Y/N, I don’t want it.

@stanning: He said EVERY scene. He’s down bad, y’all.

9. The surprise kiss

At a red carpet event, a reporter playfully asked Drew what his favorite scene from Y/N’s recent movie was. Instead of answering, he leaned over and kissed her cheek, then said, “Every scene you’re in.” Y/N laughed, covering her face as the crowd behind them cheered.

live comments:

@kissmefan: Drew’s surprise kiss. I’m not okay, you guys.

@forevertogeher: The most adorable and unexpected moment ever. Someone hold me.

@screamingan: This man loves her so much, and it shows every second.

@obsessedforeer: I’m gonna rewatch this clip until I can no longer function.

@dreamcouple: Somebody give these two their own rom-com.

MadelynCline✔︎ reposted on her story, “Okay, even I screamed when I saw this live.”

10. Couple Q&A Video

In a casual Q&A posted on social media, the couple answered fan questions. When asked about their favorite things about each other, Drew didn’t even pause before saying, “Her laugh, without a doubt. I’d do anything to hear it.” Y/N blushed, laughing softly, which only made Drew grin wider.

Y/N, laughing softly, replied, “And I love how he never takes life too seriously. He keeps me smiling.”

youtube comments:

@cutecouple: They’re too cute. My heart is bursting.

@lifegoal: This is what real love looks like, y’all.

@lovereal: Their energy together is so pure. I’m rooting for them forever.

Madison Bailey commented, “Adopt me??”

During a joint interview with Outer Banks cast members—Drew Starkey, Chase Stokes, Madelyn Cline,Jonathan Daviss and Y/N. The interviewer couldn’t resist diving into what fans truly wanted to know: Drew and Y/N’s dynamic as Hollywood’s “It Couple.”

Interviewer: So, Drew, Y/N, you two are pretty much the internet’s favorite couple right now. How does it feel to be labeled the ‘It Couple’ of Hollywood?

Y/N laughed, looking slightly flustered. “It’s surreal, honestly. I mean, we’re just two people who love each other and happen to work in the same industry.”

Drew, ever the charmer, leaned in with a smirk. “She’s being modest. I feel lucky every day to be by her side.”

Madelyn immediately chimed in, laughing. “Ugh, they’re like this all the time. It’s both heartwarming and mildly infuriating.”

Chase nodded. “No, but seriously, the love these two have? It’s not just for show. It’s real, and you can feel it even when the cameras aren’t rolling.”

Jonathan added with a grin, “We’re all kind of their biggest fans. They make us believe in love again.”

Interviewer: Drew, you’ve been very open about how much Y/N means to you. Fans are constantly swooning over your sweet moments together. How do you handle all the attention?

Drew glanced at Y/N, his expression softening. “Honestly, it doesn’t feel like something I need to ‘handle.’ Loving her is the easiest thing in the world. The attention is nice, but at the end of the day, it’s just us.”

Y/N reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “He’s too good to me,” she said with a fond smile.

The interviewer turned to the cast. “Okay, be honest—what’s it like working with these two? Any cute or funny stories?”

Madelyn grinned. “Oh, plenty. They’re so supportive of each other. I remember one day on set, Y/N had a tough scene, and Drew showed up with her favorite coffee and snacks, like the ultimate cheerleader.”

Chase laughed. “Yeah, and during breaks, they’ll have their little moments—like Drew fixing her hair or Y/N making sure he stays hydrated. It’s cute, but also, where’s our care packages, Drew?”

Jonathan nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! But in all seriousness, their relationship sets such a positive tone on set. It reminds us to cherish the people we care about.”

The interviewer smiled. “It’s rare to see such genuine love in the industry. What do you hope fans take away from your relationship?”

Y/N paused thoughtfully. “I think we just want to show that love can be kind, supportive, and fun. It’s not about grand gestures; it’s the small, everyday things that matter.”

Drew added, “Yeah, we hope people see that real love doesn’t have to be perfect—it just has to be real.”

honestly i love it 😭💗

#drew starkey fic rec

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glossymendes · 8 months ago

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with rafe

a/n: SPOILER for S4; rafe x pogue!reader; if you haven’t seen s4 yet and don’t want spoilers please do not read it !!! i wanted to post it tomorrow but i love it so much so I’m posting today!

proposal with rafe

The sun casts a golden glow across the water as Barry’s boat floats in the middle of the water while a determined rafe zooms on his jetski to shore. He swings a leg off the jet ski, wading through the shallow waves as he makes his way to where you’re sitting under a tree, your gaze meeting his. There’s something different in his eyes—a softness, maybe even a hint of vulnerability, and you feel your pulse quicken as he reaches for your hand, his grip warm and gentle.

“Come sit with me,” he murmurs, his voice low but steady, leading you to a spot beneath the shade. His expression is so uncharacteristically tender, it leaves you feeling both anxious and curious. He takes a deep breath, as if summoning the courage for something important.

“Before I... before I take off, I wanted to say something,” he says, his eyes searching yours, his tone holding a weight that makes your heart race. Confused but drawn in, you nod, watching as he sinks down on one knee before you, reaching into his pocket to pull out a beautiful diamond ring. The delicate silver band catches the light, and you see his hand tremble slightly as he holds it out, a touch of vulnerability showing through.

“It was my mom’s,” he says quietly, his voice filled with a softness that you rarely hear. "Been in the family forever, so I know that's some Kook bullshit, but I..." His gaze holds yours, a gentle warmth shining through. “I just wanted to you to have it, before I...I left, so you know that we're real.”

Your heart swells, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his eyes and the gesture that feels so intimate, so unexpected. You nod, a smile breaking across your face, and the weight of his love wraps around you as he slides the ring onto your finger with a tenderness that takes your breath away.

Your heart still pumping fast at his words as warmth spreads through you as he steps forward and sweeps you into his arms, holding you close as his lips find yours. His kiss is deep and passionate, filled with longing and the intensity he’s been holding back. He groans softly, pressing you closer, and you feel the weight of his emotions as you loop your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. He pulls you deeper into the kiss, as if it’s his way of saying everything he can’t put into words.

He pulls away smiling at your now heavy finger, his thumb brushing over your hand before he reaches into his pocket again and pulls out his keys. He holds them out to you, his fingers brushing yours as he places them into your palm.

“I want you…” he starts, his voice husky with feeling, “…I want you to quit your job, and I want…I want you to move in with me.” He pulls you in again with a even more passionate (if it’s even possible) kiss that makes your knees buckle. "Now we got that sorted," Rafe says laughing with the biggest smile as he pulls away from the kiss.

“I’ll be back in a few weeks, all right? Here. Stay at my…..Stay at our place.” He presses the keys into your hand with a firm but gentle insistence. As he pulls back his hands, he rests his forehead against yours, smiling, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I love you,” he says softly, pressing a final kiss to your forehead, then lips before stepping away. He pauses, looking back at you one last time, his eyes holding a promise, a warmth that leaves you feeling like the luckiest person in the world as he steps back onto his jet ski.

As he starts up the engine and disappears across the water, you’re left with the keys, the ring, and the weight of his words—feeling the love and commitment he’s offering, and the life he wants to build with you.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @wniektty

#rafe cameron fic rec

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glossymendes · 8 months ago

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·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱༻¨*:·bestie!kook·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱༻¨*:·

content warnings: toxic codependency, mutual obsession, discussions of antiblackness in predominantly white spaces, mentions of drugs/drug abuse, symptoms of bpd, discussion of colorism, sexual tension, misogyny, blood, violence, implied underage drinking, maternal issues, fear of abandonment, parental issues, classism, hinted/implied sexual content

bestie!kook is not spoiled, not bitchy, but a secret third thing (knows what the fuck she wants and doesn’t let anyone call her bitchy greedy or selfish). she’s an only child, of course she turned out this way.

bestie!kook lives in a mansion-like beach house and met kelce at the house party her parents threw to get to know their neighbors (flex on them). she and kelce both had the same idea of hiding out on the roof. they watched the stars, talked about school starting soon, and the struggles of being black in figure eight.

she hates her parents for moving her here.

okay hate might be a strong word but she’s not thrilled. she adjusts her halter green short chiffon dress as she sits down on the roof. she may be mad at her parents but she would never hear the end of it if she flashed the party guests. she removes her sparkly green heels and looks up at the stars. she knows there’s no real answer in the stars but looking at them has always helped her. she closes her eyes, ready to wish upon a star when she hears him.

“you mind if i chill with you?”

a dark skinned black boy she saw earlier at the party. kelce. he’s wearing a rose gold three piece suit with brown shoes. great taste in fashion? his parents definitely made him wear it.

“did my parents send you?”

“no.”

“did your parents send you?”

“no.” he chuckles

“huh.” interesting. “fine.”

he looks amused. she hates him already. “don’t jump for joy too much, i don’t know how sturdy your roof is.”

he chuckles, “that’s dark.”

“maybe.” he takes off his blazer and carefully places it on the space next to her. he sits down, arms holding his knees, looking up at the stars.

she breaks the silence when it becomes unbearable. “why are you here?”

he glanced at her and shards before turning his attention back to the stars. “party’s lame, not really my scene.”

“what’s your scene?”

he smiles, “you’ll find out soon.”

“you’re just assuming we’ll roll with the same crowd?”

he scoffs as if telling her not to play dumb. “please.”

she nods, understanding what he’s hinting at. “that bleak huh?”

he shrugs, “i’m not gonna lie and tell you i was the only black kid in school but… it’s no new york.”

“so ten times worse.”

he chuckles dryly, “exactly. before i came up here i was called “surprisingly well spoken”.”

she’s not surprised but it’s not what she wants to hear . especially not after getting her life uprooted by her parents the summer before her thirteenth birthday and moved them to the middle of nowhere.

“can’t say i’m surprised. i mean, not even an hour into the party some lady tried to touch my hair and some boy said “my skin looked good in green” fucking bitch.”

“oh we’re trading horror stories? in third grade my math teacher kept getting me confused with the other black boy in class.”

“let me guess he was light skinned.”

“light skinned. light as the fucking sun.”

they both laugh, not at the situation itself but the predictable action. when the laughter dies down he clears his throat.

“you know i have these two friends i think you’d like them.”

“only two? shocker.”

he sighs, “you ever hear the phrase ‘you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.’?”

she raises an eyebrow, “is that what you tell yourself to get you through these parties? go along to get along?”

“basically.”

“there’s no way you actually believe that.”

“and what if i do? is that so awful?”

she looks at him, really looks at him for the first time that night. “i guess not.”

they sit in silence again.

“why?”

he looks at her. “why what?”

“why reach out to me? you could’ve just left me up here alone, let me be an outcast. why didn’t you?”

he stands up and picks up his blazer. he looks down at her and smiles. “i know you wanna look like this lone wolf cool girl but… i see you..”

his words send chills down her spine. she writes that off as the cool night air.

“fuck off.”

he chuckles. “see you monday.”

he later invited her to a party the saturday before school and the rest is history.

bestie!kook is kook princess before sarah. the most popular girl in school and in outer banks, an amazing feat for someone who wasn’t born and raised in obx. she was known for her jaw dropping beauty, affluent family, and strange friendship with the kook boys. rafe, kelce, topper, and her were very popular and not just cause they were the richest. the parties they threw are still talked about to this day

bestie!kook who everyone assumes is sweet because of her bright colored outfits when in actuality she’s blunt, cold, stand-off ish, and at times, a genuine menace. she once planted coke on a girl and got her expelled for distribution all cause she didn’t like the way she looked at rafe at a party

four years after moving to obx and she can’t imagine being anywhere else.

“i guess i’m just trying to understand why and how she could do something like this. she was top of the class!” tiffany pushes a honey blonde french curl braid off her shoulder and behind her back. she brushes down her uniform's skirt and fiddles with her loose tie.

tiffany was bestie!kook’s first black girl friend in outer banks. she moved there a year after her which tiffany thinks was fate. they met in pre-algebra, tiffany helped bestie!kook solve a problem that was kicking her ass. they got to talking and have been best friends ever since. she was genuinely kind and despite popular belief, really fucking smart. academically not socially.

“please, this is totally on brand for girls like her, they think they’re too smart to get caught. did you hear her talking about ‘academic immunity’ when they arrested her? that’s not a thing!”

gianna, was the only obx native in the trio. though she transferred from kildare county high school to kildare private academy in the middle of the semester last year. she was tiffany's complete opposite in every way, she wore the complete uniform with no alterations, was more of a loner than a social butterfly, and rocked bold makeup rather than tiffany's go-to subdued look.

she and bestie!kook got along immediately despite being so similar and horribly blunt. bestie!kook loved her no bullshit attitude and disregard for standard kook faux niceties. she also loved that they were close in skin tone. she adored tiffany but there were some things the light skinned girl just couldn’t understand.

bestie!kook stifles a laugh at her friend’s remark and thanks the heavens that her face is buried in the locker so they can’t see her grin. they’re talking about the scandalous affair that they witnessed less than an hour ago but she’s too hungover to care.

she opens her locker and lifts her sunglasses to cheek herself in her locker’s newly bedazzled mirror.

“but still, ashley? ashley who calls weed marijuana expelled for selling coke!? personal feelings aside you can’t tell me that’s not totally sketch.” tiffany’s cheeks are flushed from her raising her voice and screaming about her conspiracy theory. she fans her face, trying to calm herself down. her usual light skin has some more melanin to it after spending her summer outside tanning.

“yes i can. it’s not insane, she acted like she was better than everyone, people like that always have some shit to hide.” gianna frowns at tiffany’s sympathy for the girl.

“but she was always nice to me.” tiffany frowns at the newfound information.

“gee i wonder why.” the dark skinned girl unwraps a piece of bubblegum and pops it in her mouth. “that bitch had it coming. you remember when she wrote that “anonymous” column about how certain students need to ‘speak properly and appropriately at school’. should’ve beat her ass then, pick-me ass bitch.”

“we don’t know that that was her.”

“she’s already been through so much.”

“please did you see the way she looked at rafe? she totally wanted him.”

tiffany frowns, not at the slight directed at her but the new information. “really? i never noticed.”

bestie!kook loved her but she was never great at paying attention to details and believed people always honest about their intentions. she also had certain blind spots like anti-blackness that wasn’t blatantly obvious.

“of course you didn’t.”

“hey!” tiffany's face is red with anger and embarrassment.

bestie!kook slams her locker shut, drawing both girls attention to her. she sighs and punches the bridge of her nose. “it’s too early for this shit.”

the girls apologize at the same time. bestie!kook frowns, “i don’t want you girls fighting over someone so… insignificant.”

they both look like they want to argue their points to her further but are (thankfully) interrupted by none other than rafe cameron.

rafe throws his arm around bestie!kook reader and gives the other girls a semi-friendly smile. “hey ladies.”

“hey rafe!”

“cameron.”

bestie!kook pouts, “what, no greeting for me?”

rafe turns his attention to her. he still towers over her despite her heeled shoes.

he shrugs, “well you ditched me this morning and we saw each other in home room." his tone is nonchalant but she knows him, his real feelings always show in his eyes. his stare is cold, if looks could kill she'd burn under his gaze.

she scoffs, “okay 'ditched' is crazy, i drove myself to school one time and home room was hours ago i want a new greeting.”

“hmm.”

his cold response irks her. she glances at her girls and they get the message.

gianna clears her throat. “we should probably get going tiff.”

tiffany frowns, “what but this is our free period?”

“which is why we made plans remember?”

“we did?”

she grabs tiffany's hand and drags her away. “yes.”

“ooh can we go to chick-fil-a!?”

“sure babe.”

rafe turns his attention back to bestie!kook, "what were you guys talking about?"

she closes her locker and takes off her sunglasses. “nothing.”

he removes his arm from around her shoulder and blocks her view of the hallway. “it was ashley wasn't it.”

of course he knew. "if you knew why the fuck would you ask?"

"well fuck me for giving you the benefit of the doubt."

"benefit of the doubt for what!?"

"to tell me the truth!" they've gained the attention of some students and admin by now. she blushes and grabs his hand, "come on." she drags him away and doesn't stop til they reach the janitor's closet.

"i know this is about last night. you know you can tell me anything right?" his strikingly blue eyes shine with worry.

she nods. “okay.”

she tells him everything. that morning she threw on her sunglasses after donning her uniform with a plan in mind. she hadn’t even carpooled with rafe like they usually do just so she could get there early and set her plan in motion. she had ashley write her a fake doctor’s note for her sunglasses and hugged her to show her appreciation. the girl was caught off guard and that’s when she planted the coke on her.

rafe is stunned into silence. he looks down at her, “you did that for me?” his voice is uncharacteristically soft.

she looks up at him through her eyelashes. “i’d do anything for you.”

bestie!kook might be a nepo baby but she works for her money. she has her own business doing hair and opened up outer banks's first beauty supply store at 19. her grandma thought her when she was young cause she hated having to wait on her to book (mostly home) appointments, with her busy schedule.

bestie!kook and kelce are like siblings in the way they argue. a lot of the figure eight residents also think they’re related but that’s something else entirely. he was her first friend in obx after all and is one if the few black kids in figure eight.

bestie!kook cleans up her diy hair station in her living room as kelce follows her around.

“if you’re gonna be here you might as well help.” she shoves a large container of hair into his hands. he looks down at it and back up at her, she’s already moved onto another location.

he catches up to her easily. she curses his long legs internally. “what about the friend discount?”

“doesn’t apply to you after you broke my fucking vanity.”

he pouts. “how long are you gonna hold that against me?”

“forever. don’t ask me stupid questions.”

“okay if not for me then do it for my sister.”

“that’s not fair.”

“she really wants to look good for her eight grade formal and i know it’s last minute so i’ll pay extra.”

he gives her his best puppy dog eyes. she looks disgusted.

she rolls her eyes and sighs, “fine. but only ‘cause i love your sister.”

“yes!” he gives her his best boyish smiles, “and i know you love me too.”

“please. you’re lucky i don’t gut you with this comb.”

“jesus.”

bestie!kook who puts up a wall to stop people from getting too close because she believes when you let people in that’s when you get hurt. rafe changes that for her

bestie!kook and rafe being so close is a surprise to everyone in town until they get to know her. they’re the same but different. he trusts her more than anyone else, it’s why he tells her everything from his mom leaving when he was young to killing peterkins

bestie!kook whose fashion can be described in five words; bright colors and mini skirts

bestie!kook who is always the best dressed at midsummer and always goes with rafe

year 1

year 2

year 3

year 4

year 5

year 6

year 7

bestie!kook goes to the main land a lot cause the local shops just don’t have what she wants and brings rafe along nine times out of ten

rafe and bestie!kook planned their shopping day to the mainland weeks in advance. it was the perfect date. emphasis on 'was'. topper joined last minute because he was in a bad mood after sarah made him look stupid. again.

bestie!kook runs around the shop like a kid in a candy store picking up dresses, tops, shorts, and skirts and putting them in her cart.

"rafe!" she runs over to rafe and shows him her newest find. "isn't this the cutest?"

rafe smirks, "you gonna model it for me."

she bites her lower lip, "maybe if you’re good"

he chuckles as she skips away. he looks to his left and spots his friend frowning. "what?"

topper jumps slightly like a kid who's been caught taking extra halloween candy. "nothing."

his passivity has always irritated rafe, "just spit it out. i don't want you sulking for the rest of the day."

topper takes a deep breath, preparing himself to speak and for rafe's reaction. “i’m just saying man no disrespect to you or her but i wouldn’t let my girl leave the house wearing shit like that.”

“damn this is hard. listen to the man who got cheated on and punked in front of a crowd and called me crying about it and begging for my help at 3 a.m. or keep doing what i'm doing." rafe pretends to be deep in thought, tapping his chin and furrowing his brows. “i think i’m good.”

topper frowns, "you said you wouldn't bring that up again."

bestie!kook and rafe’s relationship is the topic of many discussions, people don’t know if they’re just friends, dating, or friends with benefits. the main questioners are the camerons and topper the topic usually comes up at breakfast which ward mandates a family event.

bestie!kook whose boyfriend best friend rafe has scary dog privileges. he’ll fight anyone, girls included he doesn’t give a fuck.

bestie!kook loves getting high with rafe cause they balance each other out. she gets all deep in thought and philosophical and he gets pathetic and horny.

bestie!kook, smoking leisurely: you know… while i was away, when i felt down… i would climb up to my roof and look to the stars. it was comforting knowing you were under the same stars. 400 miles away with the same constellations, isn't that crazy?

rafe, on his third line, pupils so dilated he looks like an excited kitten: can yuo put that out on me?

bestie!kook loves partying with rafe, whether it’s a party thrown by one of them, their friends, or a boneyard party they’re there one never far from the other

rafe doesn’t dance. it’s not that he can’t he’s just not into it. at parties he’s either selling, drinking, or doing coke. unless he’s with bestie!kook. she's sitting on his lap while he counts money. he's doing a line off her tits and he's placing an ecstasy pill on her tongue. she’s dragging him to the dance floor. slow dancing leads to grinding which leads to one of them dragging the other to a private area and coming back 30 minutes later with ruffled clothes and hair.

bestie!kook who uses rafe’s need for approval and complex maternal issues to combat being on the receiving end of his misogyny make sure she comes out unscathed compared to the other women in his life

rafe comes to her after melting the cross. it's almost midnight when she answers the aggressive knocking and sees a bloody rafe.

“oh my god.” he pushes past her into the house muttering something to himself. she closes the door and follows after him, “rafe.” he continues pacing and muttering like he doesn’t hear her. “rafe!”

“it’s all my fault. everyone’s gonna know. they’re gonna- just gotta- gotta fix it i can’t fix it.”

“rafe!” he snaps out of his daze and finally meets her eyes. there’s blood around his mouth and bruises on his hand.

“what happened?”

“um..” he sniffs and wipes at his nose. “i tried to fix it.” his voice cracks, barely hiding the sadness in his voice. “i tried i did but i- i just made it worse.”

she holds her arms out. he melts into her arms and shrinks himself down to fit in her hold. “i’m sorry.”

she caresses his head. “hey it’s okay. it’s okay.”

bestie!kook is 99% positive rafe does not like women. he’s definitely attracted to them but she doesn’t think he views them as people. over the years she’s noticed that rafe puts women into two categories; caretakers and objects of desire

bestie!kook doesn’t strictly fall into either category so it breaks his brain a little bit trying to figure out how he should treat her which leads to many of their fights

they're at a party a when he pulls her off the dance floor and away from her dancing partner and takes her to an empty room.

"what the fuck rafe!?" she screams as she watches his lock the door.

he stalks towards her, “so what you’re just throwing yourself at any guy who’s nice to you?”

“fuck you rafe! you’re just mad he had the guts to admit what you’ve been thinking all these years.”

he scoffs, “is that what you think? huh?” he chuckles and moves closer, every time he takes a step forward she takes a step back. “yeah i bet you’d like that wouldn’t you? you know i thought you were a nice girl but you’re just like every other slut in this party.”

“i’m not talking to you. not when you’re being like this.”

“like what?”

“an asshole! i don’t like talking to you when you’re being an asshole, rafe. okay?”

he chuckles coldly, “what you think you’re better than me?”

his movements are twitchy, scratching his ear one second and rubbing his head the next and his pupils are dilated.

she frowns, he's really high right now. "look i don't have time for this back and forth bullshit okay?"

he frowns, "it's not bullshit okay and and i just i don’t get you. you lose your shit when i talk to a girl but here you are doing worse. do you know how it makes me look? my best friend dry humping some guy on the dance floor?”

“of course it’s about you. it’s always back to being about you. you’re so fucking selfish!”

“hey!” he grabs her face, squeezes her cheeks with his hand. “you think you’re better than me is that it?”

she scratches at his hand and pushes at his chest but when he’s high he’s like a whole different being. “let go.”

“i’m just trying to figure out what your end goal is.”

“stop it rafe!” she pushes him away, tears in her eyes and fire the first time she looks genuinely afraid of him. that sobers him up real quick.

“i’m sorry.” he reaches out to her but she slaps his hand away.

“fuck you rafe.” she storms past him, leaving him stewing in self hatred and regret.

bestie!kook who lets him in when he apologizes the next day like clockwork saying the usual right things

“i’m sorry. i was high and-”

“you said some really hurtful things rafe.”

“i know.”

she can’t stay mad at him, not when he gets on his knees and begs for her forgiveness. begs her not to leave him.

bestie!kook who is an icon to many of obx’s young women. she doesn’t take shit from anyone. especially not men.

“hey jj, she said she doesn’t want the drink fuck off.”

“well if it isn’t the future mrs cameron. shouldn’t you be busy buying his coke or something?”

“so funny! hey stop me if you’ve heard this one, white trash pogue joins father in jail after forcing sketchy beverage on sarah cameron, daughter of prominent figure of the community?”

“fuck you.”

“byyeeee.” she smiles and wiggles her fingers while waving. she turns back to sarah, “sorry about that.”

sarah looks at her in awe, “thanks, sorry you had to do that.”

“please, we girls gotta look out for each other. plus you could put in a good word for me with your brother.”

“my god.”

bestie!kook whose relationship with the camerons is all over the place. rafe is her favorite but sarah is her biggest supporter (after rafe of course). she often lends an ear to her when she fights with rafe though she’s not the most helpful and her bias shows.

it’s 1 a.m. on a saturday when bestie!kook sees topper’s instagram story and spotted rafe in the background with his tongue down some girl’s throat. she sits on her bed crying while gianna and sarah comfort her.

“i told you he wasn’t shit.”

sarah nods, “gianna’s right, you deserve better”

gianna sobs harder, “why didn’t i call tiffany?”

“because you wanted the truth not to be coddled.”

bestie!kook continues crying as sarah rubs her shoulder.

“hey he’s a dick.”

“he’s your brother sarah.”

“which is why i know it better than anyone.”

bestie!kook who treats wheezie like the little sister she’s always wanted. rafe says she spoils her but she doesn’t care she finds the girl absolutely adorable.

she takes wheezie out for a girls day filled with ice cream, shopping, and fireworks watching. all good things can’t last long though which is why rafe calls her while she’s out with wheezie. she answers the phone cheerfully, “hi rafe.”

“i miss you.” she can almost hear his pout over the phone.

“i miss you too. but i promised wheezie i’d take her out for ice cream.”

“you spoil her. it’s why she acts like that..”

she rolls her eyes. “look i gotta go, my favorite cameron’s calling me.”

“haha. wait do you really mean that? hello!?”

“bye rafe.”

bestie!kook and ward’s relationship is a bit strained, he likes her but he worries about her impact on his son’s fragile state and her hold over him. he’s like a wise father figure with a sketchy past and present.

bestie!kook who is actually sweet to rafe. everyone notices the way she is seeing others vs the way she acts around him. goes from ambivalent god to schoolgirl in love

he comes to her often crying about ward’s mistreatment and distrust. when ward kicks him out he goes to her.

“you shouldn’t be just tell me to fuck off. i’m more trouble then it’s worth.”

she frowns, “don’t say that that’s not true.”

he sniffles and shakes his head. she doesn’t know how to help him, she hates seeing him in pain like this. she slowly and gently reaches out to him and grabs his hand. she feels him tense and gives his hand a soft squeeze,. “you’ll always have me. i’m on your side.”

that’s exactly what he needed to hear.

bestie!kook and rose don’t get along much. rose is very passive aggressive and bestie!kook is very blunt. unstoppable force immovable object.

bestie!kook notices rafe’s coke use is becoming more frequent ever since he came back from the bahamas. she wants to help rafe get better but there’s only so much she can do. people (ward and rose) often forget she’s just a kid, she loves rafe but love isn’t enough to save him.

“mrs. cameron-”

“please no need for formalities you’re practically family. call me rose.”

“okay rose. i’m not gonna beat around the bush cause i respect you. i think rafe should go to rehab.”

“what?”

“it’s on the mainland and i know it seems sudden and all but i’ve noticed him getting worse and i’m scared that- that if we don’t act now. before we know it- it’ll be too late and i- i don’t wanna lose him.”

her voice catches in her throat as she thinks of rafe’s declining mental state and growing drug use. rose hugs her and softly rubs her back.

“hey hey it’s okay it’s okay. you really love him.”

she sniffles and nods. rose nods, “then don’t mention this to him. forget about it.”

“excuse me?”

“he’s going through a lot right now.”

“yeah no shit that’s why he needs this.”

“why now? hm? why the sudden change in heart?” when she doesn’t get an answer she scoffs, “you spend all this time going to parties, coming here at good knows when high out of your minds and now you care? why? cause it’s affecting you now?”

“that’s not true. i care about him.”

“then don’t do this to him. not now not while he’s in such a fragile state.”

she scoffs, “please. like you care. we all know this isn’t him its about preserving great cameron name and its bullshit legacy.”

“keep your fucking voice down.” she glares at the girl. “you have some nerve coming to our house with this holier than thou bullshit. especially in our time of grief.”

she marches over to to the door and opens it, “i think it’s time for you to go.”

bestie!kook scoffs but walks to the door, not wanting to give the woman any more of her time. she glared at the woman, “if anything happens to him it’s on you.”

bestie!kook finds renfield’s dead body in the truck

she didn’t mean to truly. she was just worried about rafe and went looking for him in his own. he hadn’t been home for a while she wasn’t expecting him to be there, much less there with a dead body.

“it’s not what it looks like.”

she gasps, “rafe.”

“don’t scream.” breathing heavily, he looks at her lips then her eyes. “i didn’t kill him.”

she meets his eyes. “i believe you.”

his eyes widen in relief and shock. the upper corner of his mouth twitches up, the ghost of a smile. “i don’t why i ever doubted you.”

she looks back at the body and frowns. “what are we gonna do?”

“we?”

“if you think i’m gonna let you do this alone you really don’t know me.”

bestie!kook who is crushed when rafe leaves for guadeloupe. she stays in her room and cries believing that he’s gone for good. her friends and parents are worried at

bestie!kook who gets a knock on her door on her balcony window when she wakes up and runs to grab the gun she got after everything that went down with rafe and barry

she slowly approaches her window and opens her curtains with her gun drawn.

“hey.”

“rafe?” to say she’s shocked would be an understatement. “what the fuck are you doing here?” her tone hurts his chest but it doesn’t surprises him.

“i understand you’re mad.”

“understatement of the year.”

“but i can explain everything.”

“okay go.”

as far as explanations go. it’s not the worst excuse she’s ever heard. he pulls her into a tight hug. she could never stay mad at him for long.

“don’t ever leave me again.” it’s muffled into his chest.

“i won’t.”

————————————-———————————-

i really hope y’all liked this one it took me a minute. comment your thoughts, criticism is welcome as always but keep it classy. <3

#rafe cameron fic rec

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glossymendes · 9 months ago

Text

౨ৎ good morning ౨ৎ

summary: reader and bucky are very much in love and have their morning routine down to a tee. bucky manhandles the reader a lot but not in a weird way, just in an "i love you and can't live without you" kinda way.

warning: fluffffff (bucky and reader are EXTREMELY in love and love to show it)

wc: 1.8k

pairing: domestic!bucky x reader

a/n: I wrote this between the hours of 11PM-1AM when i was feeling especially psychotic. I am so sleep deprived I’m sorry. But I just came up with this sweet little scenario and had to write it down. This is why I shouldn’t be allowed to daydream.

playlist:

౨ৎ

You opened your eyes, groaning as soft sunlight filtered through your open blinds. You tried remembering the dream you had just abruptly woken up from. Something about a tall, muscular, brown-haired man. The man of your dreams. The man whose arms were now around you from behind, caging you to his warm chest.

You turned around to find Bucky gently stirring in the light of the sunrise. You reached your arms out around his shoulders as he slowly blinked his eyes open. You were both morning people and were glad for it because it meant the two of you were in sync. Neither of you got much sleep, what with Bucky being plagued by his nightmares and you by your insomnia. However, you were in it together, making hell sightly more endurable.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he mumbled with a sweet smile, burying his face in your chest. You squirmed slightly in his arms as his thick beard scratched your chest. You were coming to like his grown-out facial hair. It made him look like a soft teddy bear rather than a violently beautiful Greek god. Yes, you quite preferred this look to his freshly shaven one with his chiseled cheekbones and jawline of steel on full display. With his beard, he looked somewhat more approachable, more domestic, and more lovable than ferociously intimidating.

“Good morning, my moonlight,” you whispered. He was the moonlight to your sunshine, the darkness to your light. He complimented you so perfectly that it sometimes made you want to cry.

Bucky interrupted your thoughts by pulling your body on top of his. “Mmh, I love you so much,” his voice was slightly muffled as his face was still smushed against your chest, and he wrapped his thick arms around your back, securing you in place on top of him.

“I love you too, baby boy,” you combed your fingers through his hair. It was much shorter than it used to be, but it was starting to grow out like his beard. You were not complaining, however. The long summer days the two of you spent swimming in the pool caused his hair to curl at the ends, and it was a lighter shade of brown now than it was during the colder months.

“Wanna stay here with you forever,” Bucky mumbled into your chest, peppering sweet kisses to your neck and jawline before lazily moving his lips all over your face.

“C’mon, Bucky, you say this every morning,” you giggled. “We gotta get up soon, bubs. We have things to do and people to see.” You pushed his face away, scrunching your nose when you caught a whiff of his morning breath.

“They can wait,” he muttered, half-heartedly batting his arm at the air like a petulant child. You almost giggled but caught yourself. You couldn’t encourage him on like this. You actually did have a lot of errands to run later in the day and a long to-do list to accomplish. While you wanted nothing more than to indulge Bucky (because, duh, why would you want to do anything but lay here in your soft bed, basking in the morning light with the man you loved), you knew you needed to be an adult and put your responsibilities first if you wanted to prevent your life from falling apart. You decided to give him ten more minutes. After that, you would force yourself to get up.

You almost fell back asleep, tangled up in his arms. In fact, you probably would have if it hadn’t been for your grumbling stomach. You were past the point in your relationship where this embarrassed you. In fact, you were grateful to your stomach for choosing to be so loud because otherwise, you might not have gotten out of bed all day.

But before you could leap out of bed and berate Bucky for almost making you fall asleep again, he leaped up, carrying you like a child. Of course, he would get up when you were in danger of being hungry. “Can’t let my pretty doll starve, now can I?” he smirked down at you.

“Barnes, you have five seconds to put me down!”

“Five, four, three, two…,” Bucky ran into your shared bathroom, clutching you in his arms like you were a football. “…one! Touchdown!” he plopped you down on the toilet’s closed lid, holding onto your shoulders for balance as he let out a belly laugh.

“I hate you,” but you were smiling a mile wide even as you said it.

“Aw, that’s too bad, doll,” Bucky fake-pouted at you, backing away out of the bathroom. “Because I lava you very very much.” He said the last part in his silliest baby voice, scrunching up his face to give you air kisses as he turned to leave.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help grinning like you had won the lottery. Truthfully, you had won the lottery because if wealth was measured in happiness, you were ecstatic, floating above everyone else. It was the same silly routine every morning, with Bucky forcing you to cuddle him in bed for at least a half hour and then bolting up with you in his arms whenever your stomach grumbled. He knew you were grumpy when you didn’t have any food in you, so he started on breakfast when you got ready in the bathroom. When you offered to switch roles, he said this was optimal since you liked to brush your teeth before breakfast, and he brushed his teeth after. Your heart melted at the memory. Your boyfriend got your breakfast ready for you when you came downstairs. Every single morning, without fail. It was the little things that made you fall in love over and over.

You finished your skincare routine and headed downstairs to find the same scene as every morning: Bucky with a kitchen towel over one shoulder, plating whatever he made for breakfast. Today, he had made a fluffy stack of pancakes and scrambled eggs. He had even gone the extra mile to put spinach and chopped tomatoes in the eggs and had added fresh berries and banana slices on top of the pancakes. The sight of the sticky sweet syrup oozing down the sides of them was enough to make your mouth water.

You snuck up behind him and snaked your arms around his torso. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” you punctuated each one with a kiss to his shoulder blades and neck. “Did I tell you how grateful I am to have you in my life?”

“Only about a HUNDRED TIMES A DAY,” he turned around quickly in your arms, grabbing you under the thighs to lift you up. He clasped his arms together, forming a sort of seat in midair. You threw your arms around his shoulders and crashed your lips onto his, melting into him, his pillowy lips warm on yours.

You barely noticed that he had backed into the fridge until you felt the cool metal against your back through Bucky’s thin cotton T-shirt. You continued kissing him voraciously and suddenly remembered Tony scarfing down a Burger King cheeseburger when he had returned from his brief kidnapping in the desert.

You broke away laughing at the mental comparison you made of yourself kissing Bucky to Tony when he was starving after being in the desert.

“Whatcha laughin’ at doll?” Bucky panted, a slight smile creeping onto his lips.

“Oh, nothing,” you panted back. “Just shut up and kiss me.” You were back to business, your lips back on his, feeling like a dog deprived of its bone. Bucky opened the refrigerator door, never once breaking the kiss. You kept your eyes closed, one hand still raking through his soft hair as you used the other to grab the milk carton from the door. You secured it in your hand without faltering, then brought your hand back to rest against his shoulder blade as Bucky shut the door and walked you back over to the counter. Once you safely sat down, you pulled away, gasping for air, desperate as a fish out of water for more of him. His hands were on your hips, his name was on your lips, over and over again like your only prayer.

Bucky grabbed his mug of coffee from where he had left it in the coffee machine and brought it to where you sat, a bright smile adorning his face. You returned the grin and poured a smidge of milk into his cup. When you had first started living together, you were aghast to find that Bucky drank his coffee black without a single drop of milk or spoon of sugar. It had taken some convincing, but you were thrilled when he finally agreed to stop torturing himself and drink his coffee with milk like a normal human being. Although he still used less than a tablespoon of milk and no sugar or creamer, it was a start.

You, on the other hand, were the exact opposite, preferring matcha as your morning drink of choice, which required your mug to be 95% full of milk with the other 5% being, of course, the matcha powder, ice cubes, and copious amounts of honey to satisfy your sweet tooth.

“Oh, I heated up some water and mixed in the matcha powder for you already,” Bucky pointed at the mug beside you, his other hand still warm on your thigh.

“Thank you, bubs,” you leaned down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. His cheeks pinked at the suddenness of it, and he ducked his head, shying away from your gaze.

“Aw, it’s nothin’,” he smiled up at you, eyes sparkling beneath his thick lashes. “Here, lemme get you some ice.”

The momentary loss of his hands on your thighs made you whine slightly, but he was back as soon as he left, ice tray in hand.

“Here you are, babycakes.”

You took the tray, beaming at him, then plunked precisely three heart-shaped ice cubes into your cup. You handed the tray back to Bucky, and he left to return it to the freezer before returning to stand between your thighs from where you sat on the countertop. You poured a generous amount of milk into your cup and reached for the honey to drizzle some in. Stirring your drink, you clinked your mug with his before taking your first sip.

You sighed reveling in the mild sweetness of your drink. It was just the way you liked it.

"Alright, doll, let's get some breakfast in you before we run today. We doing intervals or easy?"

"I actually wanted to go for a long run, Buck," you held his gaze from behind your mug.

"Cold plunge after?" he smiled already knowing your answer.

"Yes," you nodded your head vigorously, giddy at the prospect.

౨ৎ

#bucky barnes fic rec #i love bonky🥺

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glossymendes · 9 months ago

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JUNA (art donaldson x reader)

come to me slowly / it's when you talk close enough

art can't help but walk on eggshells around you.. to treat you like glass that could break at any moment.. but how could he not? he worships the ground you walk on, he'd do anything for you, to keep you with him. even when he talks to you he's quiet, almost meek, but you'd never make fun of him, it's sweet the way he follows you around like a devoted puppy, and does anything to see you smile <3

that i feel it on my skin / breathe it in

art has a nightly routine of helping you rub lotion on your skin, ever since he saw you doing it in the mirror after your shower he was enamored with the sweet smelling cream on your soft skin. you're sure that if art wasn't a tennis player he'd absolutely be a massage therapist, how he knows exactly where to rub to make you release the breath you've been holding in all day, you don't know. and art enjoys it as much as you, being able to be so close to you, the sweet perfume of the lotion making his brain go fuzzy <3

most of these days i don't get too intimate / why would i let you in?

even though arts brain is fuzzy he always has some doubts in the back of his mind, how maybe he isn't good enough for you.. hes been burned before, previous partners pushing him away eventually, telling him they've just "lost interest".. he thinks his heart would actually break in two if you said that to him. he knows he's got a problem.. he should try and stay present with you.. put you dont let it slide, noticing he's been rubbing the same spot on your leg for more than 3 minutes. you reach down, placing a soft hand on the side of his face <3

but i think again / i don't even try

art snaps out of his stupor, big blue eyes gazing up at you, embarrassed that he's been caught. he can never get away with things with you, it's like you read his mind. "art.." you sigh, "get out of your head okay?" he nods, sighing and slumping into the mattress, his head smushed against your newly moisturized thigh <3

i don't have to think / with you, there's no pretending

art is almost ashamed of how easy it is for you to just wipe all doubts from his mind, the simple touch of your hand sending shivers down his spine. he knows he can't hide anything from you.. and it's foolish to think he could. he could never pretend to be okay when he isn't, but he's grateful for that. art makes his way back up your body to sit next to you, leaning his toned body into your side, his eyes closed in thought. even though his head is full of doubts, he looks as pretty as ever, his skin glowing in the lamp light <3

you know me, you know me / and i might just know you too

art loves you so much.. he'd never be able to say which part of you he loves most.. but maybe it's the fact that you know him so well, you can pretty much read his mind. but it's not unfair, he knows you just as much, he can predict your movements and silly comments before you say them when you're watching a movie together, he can order for you at any restaurant because he knows what you like, he comes home with the snack you've been craving all day without you having to ask. yes, you know him, and he knows you <3

#art donaldson fic rec

321 notes · View notes

glossymendes · 10 months ago

Text

Meet The Donaldsons

summary: being art’s college girlfriend and being the first girl he’s ever brought home. headcanon of art being the child of a single mother, raised by her and his grandma <3. meeting the family!

warnings: blurb-like, not a full fic. unedited from notes app. kissing. fluff!!! short n sweet babyyy

The first thing you see when you approach is that the house is big and white. The way Art spoke about his mom, you’d think with her grace, she’d be royalty and this house was just that. As you got closer, the intimidation slowed as you could come to see the huge gardens and the too many statues, garden gnomes and pink flamingo decor. Before you got out of the car, Art asked if you were okay. You nodded, so the two of you headed up the front few steps. Art knocked.

She opened the door with her arms up and open, “Arthur!” She beamed, wrapping her son in one of the biggest hugs you’ve ever seen given to anyone. “Oh, my darling, let me look at you.” She pulled away from the hug, observing him, holding his face in both of her hands.

“Mom,” he smiled sheepishly, nose scrunched. You watched his grin take over his smile, perfect teeth showing bright.

“You got taller? I thought you couldn’t! And you’ve been working out, my god, Art, these biceps.” She said, giving his arms a squeeze. You smiled and put your hands on your hips. “My god, you look like a man.”

His smile is pretty as always, but this time you can see that they share similar teeth. “Mom,” he said, a little quieter, her hands still on his face, his arms, his shoulders. He tipped his head toward you and his mom gasped a little.

“Oh my god, oh my god, I’m so sorry, darling,” she turned to you, gasping again when she fully set her eyes on you. she was not afraid to pull you into a hug. “Hi.” She said, rubbing your back as she hugged you. Her hug had the perfect pressure and you note that she smells like pumpkin spice. “My goodness, you are gorgeous, let me look at you.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you laughed a little as she pulled away, giving you a spin. “I’m-“

“Y/N! I know, I’ve heard all about you! God, you’re gorgeous. Art, she’s gorgeous.” She nods back in Art’s direction. His grin is ear-to-ear, wide and stunning as he nods in agreement. “My goodness, who knit you, a supermodel and moviestar? Or two models, look at your eyes, they’re stunning!”

“Thank you,” you smiled. “I-“

“You might just be one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen-“ She turned back to Art, “She is so beautiful.”

Art nodded again, arms folded over his stomach. “I know.”

“Does he tell you that you’re beautiful?”

“All the time,” you replied. “You raised him right.”

She laughed and you could see the resemblance between her and her son as she bat you away, “I like you. Come in, come in!”

She opens the door and steps back inside, Art gladly slips his arm around you, his hand coming to rest on the opposite side of your waist. You beam at him and he’s smiling just the same, your shared thoughts are silent, but understood.

The front hall is massive and bright. It’s not white like the exterior, but the walls are a pale sort of rosy-purple and there are tons and tons of paintings of all sorts of things lining up the grand staircase. But on main display was all of Art’s memorabilia- ribbons, trophies all hanging and on small shelves above the archway to the next room. The staircase, as beautiful, wrapped around that arch to come down on both sides of the foyer. You were sure you’d never been in a house so big in your life, this foyer was probably as big as your house back home. “Wow,” you mumbled quietly. “You told me it was big, but I thought mansion big not big mansion big.”

“I’ve mentioned it but how many times do I really want to throw around the word ‘mansion’, I’d sound like some sort of…”

“I taught him better,” his mom nodded just ahead of you both. “Art knows that we are beyond lucky to have what we have, I couldn’t stand it if I birthed a little Richie Rich. I was already terrified when he came out blonde!” Her laugh was loud and melodious and filled the hallway entirely. You looked at Art, nodding.

“I’m not- yeah- shhh,” he smiled, passing you just a little, hand sliding back around your waist and into his pocket. He rocked just a little on his heels. “Tour? Mom?”

“Tour!” She cheered, “What was I thinking, charcuterie can wait. You like cheese, Y/N?”

“Love.” You replied, smiling.

“Good, because we have way too much. I wasn’t sure what to get but charcuterie is about assortment anyway, so I bought the whole selection. It almost takes up a table!” She laughed her booming laugh again. As she walked into the next room, you had a moment to fully assess her profile. She was short, shorter than Art, just the tiniest bit shorter than you. Shoulder length golden blonde that was just the slightest bit grey but in a sort of chic way. She shared Art’s eyes and his smile.

She didn’t look like she’d gotten any work done though Art had told you she’d gotten some. Her eyes crinkled when she laughed and her eyebrows were expressive and you wanted to credit her youthful glow with a happy life. She was also dressed in a tasteful blue floral wrap dress. Despite her money, the dress was one you’d seen at Walmart not too long ago. She also wasn’t wearing any shoes.

“You saw the foyer, this is the living room.” The room was decorated with flowers and lots of colours, though brown was the colour that was frequented most. But it was paired with pinks and blues and greens. You’d almost expected one of those homes that are nearly empty, but there were far too many fruits in the coffee table bowl, pomegranates and oranges and grapes. The clutter was gorgeous, books all around and of course, more of Art’s tennis trophies and lots of photos of him and his mom. She really loved her son, it was sweet to see.

“You were so little,” you sighed sweetly, looking at a photo of little Art and his tiny tennis racket. “Little blondie.” Art came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as you gazed over the pictures of him at one, two, five, seven…

“I haven’t seen some of these in ages,” Art said, looking over them himself. “Before it was diaper pictures.”

You gasped, “No way, they’re gone?”

“Darling, they’re never gone. They’re in the photo book on the coffee table. Let me tell you, nothing compares to this one picture I have of little Art in the kitchen sink, butt-naked. He was one, maybe two? He-“

“Mom?” Art spoke with a tone of loving warning. “No sink bath pictures, please.”

You giggled, swaying with Art’s hands around your waist, teasing. “Later.” You nodded. Art’s mom gave you a sly little wink, guiding you into the next room. This room was a messy little office/study. A grand desk, gorgeously glossy and made of the prettiest coloured wood you’d ever seen. The walls were lined with books and the computer on the table was fancy. Big, chunky, fancy. There was an easel in the corner and a paint setup with shelving. “I like to paint with oils.” His mom told you. “Between business calls.”

The next room was a little gym, then a laundry room, the kitchen was absolutely stunning, huge, very fancy. The dining room was insanely gorgeous, lined with pretty wallpaper and a cream tablecloth. The next room over was a small parlour. You really had the idea that Art’s mom was a sports mom, but she was her own person entirely, and her personality was splashed all over the walls.

They took you outside where there was a pool, a hot tub, and a tennis court. A whole tennis court. It made sense, though. It was the biggest splash of Art you’d seen so far if you didn’t count the shrines. “Oh wow, it’s huge.”

“Where Art learned to love tennis. We bought the house with it, thought we’d let him try it out. Look at him now, on his way to a big name.” She pinched his cheek again and he bat her hand away lovingly. You grinned, squeezing his hand. “Art tells me you play tennis too?”

“I’m learning.”

“She’s better than me,” Art told his mom.

“Am not,” you folded your arms. “I can barely hit the ball.”

“Oh, neither can I, honey. We should play.” His mom grinned, grabbing your hand. Your fingers interlocked and she pulled you in, holding your hand as she pulled you down to the garden. You got into conversation with Art and his mom about the trees, how he used to play in them. It moved into a softer conversation about his childhood and about yours, moving through other curious rooms. You circled back to a room with the table full of cheese and crackers and other fruits and meats, where the conversation was school, your history, repeating the story of how you met. You two sat on the loveseat across from her in her tall pink chair. She clasped her hands together happily, listening, then after a while, dismissed herself for an afternoon nap until dinner. “I’ll leave Art to show you the upstairs. The bedrooms…” She teased.

“Mom,” Art said, a small flush to his ears and nose. He was cute. His mom fluttered out of the room with a small smirk. Art hid his face and you giggled just a little. He raised his head, nose pink. “I’m sorry, she’s…”

“Perfect,” you finished his sentence. You were so genuinely thrilled by all of this, it was no wonder you were practically bursting.God, she’s amazing, Art. She’s beautiful and looks just like you and she’s so eccentric, I’ve never met anyone like her- And I think she likes me.”

“She loves you,” he nodded, pushing your hair behind your ear, smiling. You couldn’t help but grin, leaning in to kiss him. Just a small kiss, with a mutual smile between. “I don’t think she’s ever loved me as much as she loves you.”

“Ooh, I might steal. You better watch out before your mom becomes mine,” you teased, kissing him quickly again. Your hand gently cupped the side of his face, but he held you close.

“There’s other ways to do that, I promise.” He kissed you again. “Come upstairs. My grandma is staying with us for the weekend too, you can meet her if she’s not asleep.”

You kept smiling, “Think she’ll like me as much?”

“She made my mom, my mom loves you and frankly, so do I. I don’t think my grandma can do anything but love you too.”

“Three generations,” you smiled, letting him pull you off the small couch. His smile was content and near a smirk. “I love you too.”

“Mhm.” He pulled you in again, kissing you once more on the lips, then forehead, before pulling you up the stairs. At the top, he did a little turning gesture, wide-arms referencing the top floor. You were a little in awe at how big it all still was. “Thoughts?”

“Huge.”

He chuckled, kissing your shoulder gently as he walked around you. “I used to go down the stairs on my stomach. Got rug burn. My grandma, actually, would always get me frozen peas to soothe it. I always went back and did it again later.”

“I think we would have gotten along as kids,” you nodded. “You’re cute, Richie Rich.”

“Unfair.” He retorted, leading you to his grandma’s room. He knocked gently at her door, “Grandma?”

“Arthur? That you?” A sweet woman’s voice came from the room. “Come in, come in!”

You smiled at the use of his full name. He winced just a little, smile on his face matching yours. He pulled you along as he opened the door. The room was baby blue, with a big wooden bed with lovely pale blue curtains. there was a tv and a rocking chair, which his grandma was seated in. Her hair in a little bun, she was a tiny woman. Very short, very thin, but also still very pretty. “Oh, it’s Y/N!” She smiled, clasping her hands together in a fashion much like Art’s mom. “Come, darling, I’ve heard so much about you.”

Art shot you an ‘I told you so’ look, but you were busy having your heart full of the fact Art spoke enough about you with his mom and grandma that she knew exactly who you were by name and wanted to see you immediately. You stepped her way, “It’s so nice to meet you, Art talks about you all the time.”

“Likewise, my dear! You’re just as beautiful as Art described. Do a spin for me?” You gladly turned in a circle. “Absolutely stunning. Art, you did well, my boy!”

“I think so,” he replied, stepping forward to hug her gently in her chair. He was so cute. Too cute. “How are you?”

“Oh, just a little sleepy. Was going to have a nap in a few minutes. Same old, same old woman.” She bat the air playfully. “My god will we talk at dinner. I am so glad you found someone with such kind eyes, Arthur. They match yours perfectly.” A poetic woman. “How are you, dear?”

“Oh, I’m good,” you smiled.

“And Arthur?”

“I’m good too- do you need help getting to bed? We can leave you to nap.”

She nodded, “Always such a kind young man. Missed you. I watched the last game your mom recorded, you were spectacular.”

“I missed you too,” he said with a small smile, helping get up. “Thank you, Grandma.” His lips pressed into a straight-lined smile. She held onto his arm as he walked her slowly over to her bed, helping her in. Your heart fluttered a bit at the simple act.

“Thank you for coming to say hi, Y/N. I look forward to meeting you better after my nap.” She smiled, pulling the covers over. She squeezed Art’s hand and whispered something to him under his breath. He grinned ear-to-ear. “Good mid-afternoon!” She called to you and Art jogged back over to you, you waved and followed him out the door.

“What did she say?” You giggled, moving closer to him, your chest pressed against his. He just grinned. “Tell me?”

“Mmm, later,” he nodded, hands wrapping around your waist. “Come see my room.”

“Is there a bed?”

“Queen sized?” He grinned, not letting you go, but pulling you with him, still against him, looking down at you just slightly. “My room is furthest down the hall. No judging though.”

“That’s all I’m here to do,” you teased, kissing him on the cheek and walking ahead to the room at the end of the hall. He nodded, so you opened the door and your jaw dropped. The room had pale red walls, partial beige carpeting against wooden floors, a big wooden bed, and a tv setup. You tried to ignore the folded ping pong table in the corner. “Oh my god, it’s huge. The room, the bed, the… wow.”

“It’s big, I know.” He walked over to his bed. The walls had tennis posters, movie posters, and game posters. You noted the mini fridge.

“This is not what I pictured,” you gawked a little as you took it all in. “But it’s so… you.” You eyed the books on the shelves. Old books, they seemed. It was very Art. Even his comforter was very him. He sat on his bed and you stood in front of him, looking down. Your hands rested on his shoulders gently. “Thank you for bringing me here with you. It’s amazing, it’s really beautiful here and your room… Richie Rich.”

He shook his head, hands gently sliding up your hips. “Maybe.”

“Knew it.” You said, pointing a finger. His hands snaked around your lower back, slipping under your shirt to touch your skin. “You admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“Are you paying attention?” You teased, tapping just under his chin. He looked up at you with those soft eyes that read as a ‘no’. “That’s okay.”

“Tired.” He nodded. So were you, you noticed. The trip had been exhausting, but meeting his mom and grandma had given you a second wind that was now dying. You giggled a little as his arms wrapped all the way around your waist, pulling you down onto him on the bed. With easily intertwined limbs, you both got comfortable on his bed, his arms around you, your legs twisted up comfortably. His hand ran over the back of your head, through your hair. A nap seemed to be the theme in the house. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” You replied, squeezing him just a little. You moved just once more, so that Art was more in your arms, and you kissed him on the temple.

“I always dreamed about having a girl in my bed,” he mumbled, a grin on his face, his eyes closed. You kissed the side of his head again, he turned just a little to kiss you properly. You giggled a little uncontrollably as he rolled on top of you for just a second, kissing you hard and then kissing your cheek, your nose, your cheek again, your lips, and then reverting back to his original position.

“To do that?”

“That and other things.” He nodded, eyes shut again, smile still very wide on his face. “Later.”

“Sounds like a-“ you yawned, he followed. “Plan.” You settled in once more and ten minutes later the both of you were sound asleep. And you stated that way for a few hours, maybe three, intertwined on top of his comforter. His mom slowly opened the door in the fresh dark of his room, the sun having set, after knocking a few times with no answer. Her eyes fell on the two of you and she smiled, before closing the door and calling downstairs to say that dinner would be postponed another hour.

Around nine, you woke in the calm silence of his room, disoriented for a moment, but you felt Art beside you, breathing steadily. You looked at the digital clock next to his bed and sighed just a little. “Art,” you whispered, kissing his cheek gently. “Art, wake up.”

He stirred just a little. You kissed his cheek again, then the corner of his eye, then his lips gently. His hand raised, sliding over your jaw and into the back of your hair as he woke into kissing you more. It was sweet and gentle. “Hi.” He said between kisses. “What time is it?”

“Nine.” You replied. His hand slipped down over your arm, rubbing up and down. “Think we slept through dinner?”

“We eat late anyway,” he smiled. “Should probably head down though.”

“Mmm, okay,” you nodded back, starting to get up. He didn’t let you, kept you close. “Art.”

“Mhm?”

“‘Should probably head down though’,” you quoted back to him. He shook his head, pulling you back in to kiss you. You giggled against his lips. “Mmm, Art- your mom, your grandma- are they waiting?”

“Maybe-“ He kissed you again. “Probably. Okay. Let’s go.” You smiled, watching him stretch and get up from the bed. You slipped off the opposite side and went to turn the light on. You checked over your eye makeup which surprisingly wasn’t so disturbed from sleep. Your clothes were fine. You looked presentable, running fingers through your hair. Art, of course, didn’t have to do a thing. The two of you talked about the pictures on the walls as you walked down the stairs, teasing the gap between his teeth from his childhood and remarking on how cute his ears are and were, laughing as you entered the living room again.

“You’re up! Perfect. How was your nap?” His mom immediately set down the book she was reading. “I have to tell you, my nap was so lovely. I had a dream about creme brûlée, so I had my chef whip some up for after dinner. I would make it myself usually, I know, but I thought since we have guests, I’d much rather be present.”

Art rubbed his eye, “Nap was good. Where’s grandma?”

“Knitting in the parlour, we should grab her and head to the table, I know she’s dying to talk to you, Y/N. Kept going on about your hips and my god, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t also jealous of them.” She laughed loudly, standing up.

“Thank you,” you smiled. “I’m jealous of your hair, I mean the volume, it’s gorgeous.”

“So what you’re saying is we go get our hair done tomorrow?” She shimmied a little teasing shrug. “Oh, and nails? Maybe a pedicure and a massage. Art, your girlfriend is mine.”

He leaned into your ear, “She’s always wanted a daughter.” It warmed your heart.

“I would love that, but I can’t-“

“If you mention money, I want you out of here within the hour,” she warned you playfully as you walked to the parlour. “My treat! I need someone to go with me.”

Art’s hand slipped under the back of your shirt as you turned the corner again, resting on your lower back. “I would love that. That’s amazing.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. But it’ll be fun. We can gossip, talk boybands, get lunch? If that’s okay with Art. Art?”

“I’ll… spend the day with grandma,” he nodded at you, then his mom with a smile. You could tell me really loved how much your mom loved you. Like he was proud, almost. “It’s okay with me.”

“Thank you. We’d be back for dinner and you’re staying four days, correct?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“So you really mean five?”

“Mom,”

“So you really mean a week?” She burst out laughing, turning and hitting Art in the arm playfully. “No worries, darling.” She opened the door and with a few sweet words, you all made your way to the dining room, Art’s grandmother in her wheel chair asking you your favourite colour, movie, show, showtune, animal, etc.

Dinner was delicious and the conversation was lighthearted. His grandmother was gorgeous with a stunning sense of humour and his mom and her got along like best friends. He interacted with them so sweetly. It was clear they were truly valued by him and their influence on him was suddenly clearer. The way he talked was from them, some of his little hand gestures were definitely from his mom. You laughed and ate and shared a bottle of limoncello until around eleven.

They were night people for sure. The conversation eventually lead to listening some music and then eventually, saying goodnight. Art’s mom pushed his grandma away in the wheelchair and you grinned wide the moment they were out of sight, turning to Art. “I love it here,” you told him. “I love your mom, your grandma.” You kissed him, his hands eased around your waist. “Thank you for bringing me-“ He kissed you again. “Home. I am so-“ You couldn’t help but giggle madly as he kissed you back down onto the couch, you were unable to fight it. His hands on your waist still, one knee between your legs, the other knee he balanced on his knee on the edge of the couch. He kissed you passionately, with the underlying notes of sweetness, both of you smiling into it. He was happy to be home, he was happy to have y-

His knee slipped off the edge of the couch, causing him to slip right onto the carpet. You gasped slightly as he tumbled, but then he just laughed, laying on his back on the purple rug. You couldn’t help but laugh with him. He started to get up, but you wouldn’t let him, kissing him as he started to come up, the both of you still laughing into it. He cupped your jaw, pulled gently, and in seconds you were on top of him, kissing him on the carpet while some 90s soft music continued to play from a record his mom had put on a while ago.

A gentle kiss, though unending, his hands through your hair as you kissed on the floor. Smiles still unwavering. Things had gone so much better than expected, you were happy. Really happy. You had plans with his mom tomorrow. She loved you. His grandma loved you. You had three more days with them. With him. Here, in his home, the home he grew up in. God, it was perfect. He was perfect. You were overwhelmed by just how perfect everything had been so of course you kissed him just a little harder. He took it gladly.

Keeping it tame, you ended up only kissing, which felt safe for the living room floor. After a while the kissing turned to talking, your face hovering just above his, fixing his tousled hair and kissing his nose. “You have to try playing tennis again.” He told you. “For me.”

“For you,” you nodded. “Third evening.”

“After dinner, third evening.”

“Mhm. So we can go back up to your room after.”

“Yeah?”

“So I can shower and sleep.” You teased.

“Awe,” he sighed, kissing you again. You kept smiling as the two of you soon got up and chased each other back to his bedroom. After an hour or so, the both of you were tired enough to pass out intertwined. Under the covers this time, with a big day ahead of you both.

Your head on his chest in his bed in his home. It was soon to feel like yours too.

#art donaldson fic rec

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glossymendes · 10 months ago

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༊*·˚ pretty boy | peter parker

main masterlist

for you, peter is the literally definition of pretty. his big brown puppy eyes and his perfectly structured face, his lean but muscular built, his cute little pout when you don’t give him a kiss before he goes patrolling.

he is just so so very pretty.

you don't know know how long you have been staring at him for, but he didn't seem to notice. too busy focusing on his science project, and his concentration is very hot.

his long slender fingers moving carefully and slowly to put the pieces together and your attention only zeroed on them. such, such pretty hands.

the weight of your stare was starting to make peter nervous. peter gets flustered very easily. and with you? you didn't even have to try.

peter suddenly put down the components for his project and turned to you, “i know i'm hot but can you please stop staring at me like that?” he mumbled, as a soft blush appear on his face. his tone was confident but you can sense his nervousness.

he tried focusing on his project again as you chuckled, the kind of chuckle that sends tingles all over peter's body, “sorry pete, but you are just so very pretty.”

wow. okay he didn't expect that.

peter chocked on his saliva, his body hot all over, nearly dropping the pieces of his homework.

“baby, you can't just say things like that.” he looked at you, eyes wide and soft. and it makes you grin.

“it's the truth.” you shrugged, “you're my pretty boy.” you know you're testing his limits, but it was fun teasing peter.

peter's mind malfunctioned. he's trying to ignore you, but the way you said my pretty boy is replaying over and over in his head.

“damn it.” he quietly swore, putting down whatever left of his project and turning to you.

your eyebrows rose in a teasing manner as a smirk finds its way to your face. “what?” you innocently asked, but you know exactly what you're doing, and he knows it too.

peter chuckled as he walks to where your laying at the bed. the sound send a shiver up your spine and now you're the one who's nervous.

he leaned closer to you, you could feel his breath on your lips as you both took a moment to admire each other. peter was staring at your eyes to your nose and your soft lips, bringing his eyes to connect with yours again and you could feel your stomach doing flips.

“and you're my pretty baby.” he whispered softly before cutting off a whine that rose up your throat with his lips.

his lips were a little chapped, but it fits your perfectly. your hands move to tangle on his hair, giving it a little pull making peter groan into the kiss. he leaned back, his warm hands move to find comfort on your waist as he brings you onto his lap.

peter felt like his heart was about to burst. every single sense of his is override and all he can focus on is you. you. you.

his home.

reblog for a kiss <3

#peter parker fic rec

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glossymendes · 10 months ago

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the song “diet pepsi” by addison rae is lowkey my guilty pleasure 😔 but maybe you can write something with art inspired by the lyrics :3

“when we drive in your car, i’m your baby/ losing all my innocence in the backseat”

diet pepsi (art donaldson x fem! reader)

my boys a winner, he loves the game/my lips reflect off his cross-gold chain

youre not ashamed, you know art can see you leaning forward in your seat, even wearing sunglasses he can tell that your eyes linger on his v-line when he lifts up his shirt to wipe his face. he doesn't mind it though, how could he complain about his gorgeous girlfriend oogling him from the stands. arts head always whips toward you when he wins, looking for a wide smile on your face. the moment he steps off the court you're jumping into his arms, letting him twirl you around and kiss you passionately, letting the adrenaline do the talking for him.

i like the way he's telling me/my ass looks good in these ripped blue jeans

arts a sucker for you. if anyone asked him what his weakness is he'd respond quickly with "my girlfriend". you always have to hold back your giggles when his mouth drops open as you step out of your apartment for your date, the fabric of your blue jeans hugging your curves just right. he snaps out of his stupor to open the car door for you, placing his usual hand on your thigh as he drives. before you enter the restaurant he'd chosen for your date, he leans down to whisper in your ear " your ass looks good in those jeans"

my cheeks are red like berries in spring/bodies a work of art you'd diet to see

you blush, your face heating up as you sit down at your table for dinner, the red of your cheeks visible even in the low light of the restaurant. art almost doesn't even have the mental capacity to order food, his eyes stuck on the way your skin glimmers from the candlelight, longing to reach out and touch you.

untouched, xo/young lust, lets- (ah)

most people would make fun of art for how hard he's fallen for you, saying that he doesn't know what love is, he's only in his first year of college, but he disagrees, the love he feels for you rivals anything he's ever seen in a romance movie. you bring him back to reality by holding his hand over the table, squeezing it lightly. "you wanna get out of here?" art asks, and you giggle, sensing his eagerness to be near you once again, not seperated by a stupid dinner table. art pays for the meal, leading you out of the restaurant with a hand on the small of your back.

when we drive in your car, im your baby (so sweet)/losing all my innocence in the backseat

the parking lot is empty when you get there, thank goodness, although you doubt that anyone could see in through the foggy windows, but they could probably tell what was going on by the rocking of the car. arts hips pressed against yours, his feet planted on the floor of the car, balancing you on his lap. his slender fingers hiking up your dress, the warm palms of his hands pressed against your hips, almost as warm and comforting as his lips on yours. your head tips back onto the headrest, allowing him access to the panes of your neck, the soft skin making him lick his lips in anticipation. he hopes the marks he leaves behind will stay, scaring off admirers so he can keep you all to himself. art almost feels bad, seeing you squeeze your eyes closed in pain when he presses the flared tip of his cock into you. the way you always have a hard time taking him makes him feel like his taking your innocence, like your body is trying to stay pure. nevertheless, he's in love with you, and the way you always suck him right inside, squeezing so tight that it's hard for him to pull out. he's so sweet though, rocking your hips for you, cooing sweet nothings into your ear, encouraging you that no ones gonna see you, the parking lots empty. art would never admit it to himself, he's not a slut like patrick, but he can't deny the twitch of his cock when he thinks that anyone could find you here, and figure out what he was doing, the cute tennis player, always lagging behind his friends and not speaking unless spoken to, is fucking his girlfriend in the backseat of his jeep. when art cums, he makes sure that you pull your panties up right away, "i want to keep being inside you" he says, as if he could feel your pussy while not being inside you, just because his cum is there. when he drops you off at your place, he takes great pride in seeing a drop of white running between your thighs.. maybe he's more like patrick than he thought.. <3

#art donaldson fic rec #a lil spicy😏

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glossymendes · 10 months ago

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y’all will never believe what just happened to me. so i’m on my way to art and patrick HOUSE💜 right? i’m in the train station, this lady taps me on the shoulder and she’s like “mama, a girl behind you.” i’m like, “whaaat?” so i turn around, and i’m like, “hiii in what i do!” this lady comes running up to me and she’s like “what would you do if when you said okay yes would go?” then i’m like, “well, yes!” then she’s like, “well, no.” and i’m like, “well… sorta kinda.” and she goes, “oh nononono, we’re not getting a dog don’t even think about it girl,” and i’m like, “well, my tennis mug tea, and my threesome mug tea, so what’s the issue?” and at this point, people are starting to stare. and she’s like “oh clock that tea, i just wanted to be apart of your symphony,” and i’m like, “baby, i own businesses, like i have art and patrick at my hotel room,” and she thought that was art shade, WHOLE TIME, i stan patrick. but then i realize- i take off my sunglasses, and realize i’m talking to tashi duncan, and i’m like “oh my god. are you tashi DUNCAN💜? like i’m such a big fan,” and she goes, “yes, but tashi=onika and duncan=burgers.” and i’m like, “oh my- oh my god,” and then the purple heart- i shit you not- the purple heart emoji appeared in the air, above her head. and i was like, “what-,” ugh, you had to be there to experience this, i’m telling you.

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glossymendes · 10 months ago

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oh god I’m so obsessed with divorced dilf!Art 🫠🫠🫠 need him to ignore Lily’s cute babysitter flirting with him because he just can’t believe it that someone so young and pretty would be into him🥲but after a certain point he just cant take it anymore🫠🩷

yes omg.. dilf! art is so yummy ugh.. (im in the mood for something fluffier rn so this is mostly just sweet 😭 working on a smuttier fic tho!!)

his time with lily is precious, and as much as he'd like to spend all of it together, he is still a professional tennis player, and he doesn't want lily running to her mom saying how she gets bored when she stays with art, so he hires a babysitter. scrolling through the profiles of babysitters in town you're obviously the most qualified (but he won't deny that the butterflies in his stomach when he saw your picture may have influenced his decision). luckily, you live up to his expectations, and lily loves you immediately, always asking art when you're gonna come over (he worries that she likes you more than her own dad), but he's happy, happier than he's been in a while, and he can only credit you for that. you're around him for about a month when things start to change, your hand lingers on his when you take the payment for the day, your hands find his broad shoulders and squeeze them when you walk by, and whenever art finds time to look over at you and lily, you're always looking at him first. art is no longer a young tennis academy boy, he knows how you feel about him, and he'd be a liar if he said he didn't feel the same way. seeing how you are with lily tugs at his heartstrings, the scene of him coming home to find you and lily playing on the living room floor feeling much more domestic than anything he felt when he was married. however much bliss he feels around you, he knows that you could find someone better, someone your own age to spend time with. the downsides of not being a young athlete have caught up to him, more and more gray hairs popping up and his back getting sore quicker than he remembers. you don't mind though, you treat him like he's young, always inviting him to play with you and lily, making him wear silly hats and awful makeup done by his daughter.

eventually it's just too much to take, he can't handle being around you anymore without you knowing how he feels. he's a gentleman though, sitting you down after you put lily to bed, a cute blush on the tips of his ears. he tells you that he'd like to take you out on a proper date, to see you outside of his home and outside of your job. the date he takes you on is truly extravagant, better than any one you've gone on before, he picks you up from your apartment in a fancy black suv, opening the door for you and driving to the restaurant with a hand on your thigh. he buys the most expensive champagne they have, toasting with you over your good work. he's pretty quiet the whole night, letting you talk and share about yourself, committing every little detail to memory, even the small things, your favorite color, the name of your childhood pet and the hobbies you like to do. by the end of the night you're comfortably tipsy, walking hand in hand with him through the city, giggling at each other. art drops you off at your apartment, walking you to your door with a large hand on the small of your back. you shyly invite him in and he accepts, his tall frame looking comically out of place in your small apartment. you sit him down on the couch as you two talk the night away, both if you scooting closer to each other under the guise of "getting more comfortable". arts hand, that started gently touching your knee has gently climbed up to your inner thigh, casually enough that you don't notice, blissfully talking to him like you've been friends for years. seeing art outside of work is refreshing, he's less wound up, he smiles more, and you cant stop yourself from leaning in and kissing him, not even caring that he was in the middle of a sentence. your heart jumps into your throat when he reciprocates, his surprisingly soft lips working in tandem with yours. arts large hands come to cup your face, pulling you closer towards him. he can't remember the last time he had a kiss so romantic, his hands getting slightly sweaty with nerves. pulling away, the both of you are flushed with excitement, the feeling of a new and budding romance buzzing between you. art doesn't want to go any further with you that night, politely explaining that you're too important to him for him to rush things. kissing him again before he leaves, you wave goodbye, going back up to your apartment and flopping onto your bed, head still in the clouds from the passionate kiss you shared with art.

waking up at your usual time the next day you get ready for work, pulling on your shoes and heading out the door, you're met with a surprise. a beautiful large vase of red and pink roses sits on your doormat, a card resting on top. "i hope you like the flowers, they were the best i could get on short notice. i really did enjoy our date last night, you're a beautiful person, inside and out. i thought you could take a day off of work as a treat, im sure lily can spend a day with her dad instead of her babysitter :) i set you up with a spa appointment at 2, just say my name at the front desk and they'll know what to do. if it's not too presumptuous of me, ill pick you up tonight at 8 for another date. looking forward to seeing you. yours truly, art."

#art donaldson fic rec

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glossymendes · 10 months ago

Text

art donaldson masterlist

main masterlist

personal favorite: ♤

fan favorite: ♡

fluff: f

angst: a

suggestive (not smut): s

⊹ ࣪ ˖

physio alternatives - f

art donaldson headcannons - f

♡ art likes to kiss - s

blurb - f

♤ the solace in his arms - f

#art donaldson fic rec

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glossymendes · 11 months ago

Text

EVERYTHING IS ROMANTIC

*title inspired by charli xcx’s EVERYTHING IS ROMANTIC

summary: you’re craving mac and cheese

pairing: art donaldson x afab! reader (no pronouns used)

word count: 1,035

content: (i block minors + ageless blogs), fluff, established relationship, mentions of menstrual period, one suggestive comment, mentions of art’s (and presumed yours) in canon daughter, lily. reader is shorter than art

a/n: “in a place that can make you change, fall in love again and again, fall in love again and again.” back at it again with the period fluff and self indulgent fics. they just don’t make pathetic, loser, girldad, husband material like art donaldson anymore 😔 he’s soo interesting to me. i wish i could put him under a microscope and study him

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

“Fuck,” you mutter to yourself, the familiar ache beginning to pool in your lower abdomen. The word is barely registered in your mind before you've cursed at yourself again, though this time silently, hoping that your six-year-old daughter hasn't heard you from a few doors down.

Art's eyes dart over to where you’re sitting beside him on the couch as he takes a calculated sip from his water bottle. He leans forward to place it on the wooden coffee table in front of you, picking up the remote to pause the recording of his most recent tennis match that's been playing in the background.

He doesn’t need to ask any questions; he knows when something’s bothering you. He stills for a beat, waiting to see if you'll permit him into the inner workings of your mind.

“I got my period,” you groan. It’s amazing that even after all this time, it still manages to sneak up on you.

Art scoots a bit closer to you, wrapping one arm around your waist, his left hand fitting snuggly at your lower back, his fingertips smoothing over the sliver of exposed skin in gentle circles, while his right hand scales up your leg.

A part of you recoils at how much you relish in his affection during your cycle, wishing you could forever hide behind the wall of indifference you've managed to build in the years of your marriage, but he knows as well as you do that you'll both bask yourselves in the saccharine tenderness for as long as you can.

A lopsided grin graces his features. “You can tell that sort of thing without having to check?” He asks in a low whisper, as if the two of you are sharing an intimate secret. His nose is so close to yours that you can almost feel his breath.

You indulge him just for a moment. A quick brush of skin against skin. His nose was always one of your favorite features.

“After this many years, you start to pick up on the signs," you murmur, a smirk of your own coming through.

You remove yourself from his hold, and although he doesn't outwardly protest, you catch the pout on his face in your peripheral vision.

“Do we have any mac and cheese?”

He gives a slightly perplexed look, tilting his head before answering. “We should have a box or two; I could always order in the fancy stuff.”

You shake your head in opposition before starting to move toward the kitchen when another cramp makes you grimace, unable to hide your discomfort. Art’s quickly by your side, his fingers brushing up and down your arm.

“You go freshen up and get comfortable. I’ll take care of the cooking." His eyebrows raise as he says this, like he's posing a question instead of making a statement. Requesting permission to access the vulnerability that’s always hidden away behind lock and key.

You nod softly, though somewhat reluctantly, and he presses a kiss on your forehead before shooing you off to the bathroom.

A short while later, after you’re freshly clean and moisturized, you pad down to the kitchen, dressed in your coziest pajamas.

All the lights are dimmed, and you notice that the living room has been set up with a heating pad, a fluffy blanket, your favorite movie, and a selection of special snacks that you set aside specifically for when you're having cravings. The sight tugs at your heart strings.

The sinking pit in your stomach doesn’t fully manifest until you reach the kitchen and see Art standing in the low light over the stove, stirring the macaroni noodles every so often. He’s wearing his pajamas now, too, having snuck up to the bedroom to change while you were still washing up. You make a mental note to compliment him later on how well his ass fills out the pale blue cotton.

An erray of seasonings line the countertop, ones that he knows you love to incorporate in almost every meal you make.

A wave of overwhelming heartache washes over you as you amble over to where he stands near the stove, slinking your arms around his slim waist, your cheek pressed against the softness of his t-shirt. He always smells like clean laundry, and this time is no different.

He skims the skin of your arm affectionately with the back of his knuckles. His wedding band is cold against you, giving you a slight shiver.

“Feeling better?” He asks.

“Mmm, a little,” you mumble against him.

He chuckles through his words. “I can get you some Tylenol if you need it. I already put Lily down for bed. After I’m done here, we can snuggle up and watch movies on the couch.”

Art moves to strain the noodles, and you move with him, waddling in time with his steps, which earns a slight giggle from him, not wanting to be separated for even a moment. He’s careful to angle the pot so none of the boiling water splashes back onto you.

You could try to rationalize your feelings, shrug them off, and blame your hormones for the uptick in the neediness you feel and the desire for his affection. But the truth is, you love him. You really love him. Which, duh! After all, you married him, but sometimes it's easier to act nonchalant than it is to allow yourself to be fully exposed to someone else.

As the two of you move back over to the stove again, with him adding the finishing touches to the mac and cheese, he beats you to the punch.

“I love you.”

Your face is still stuck to his back, hoping he doesn’t notice that by pressing yourself so far into the fabric of his shirt, you’re attempting to stop any tears from falling.

“I know." You smile against his skin, letting him in on the joke.

He snorts in response, shaking his head playfully as he gives a final stir to the noodles. You pull your face from his back, the cotton clinging to him from where your tears have inevitably soaked through. You rest your forehead against him before releasing a breathy, "I love you too."

#art donaldson fic rec

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glossymendes · 11 months ago

Text

「bites and 'I love you's」 Art Donaldson x F!reader

you can read the other parts here!

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

Art loves to bite you.

It's something you found out pretty quickly in your relationship, but no matter how many times it happens it still surprises you.

The first time it happened you were dating for 2 weeks, you were laying on his bed, belly down while reading a book to entertain yourself until Art's arrival from practice.

When the door opened you were too immersed in your book to notice and Art closed the door quietly behind him after stepping in the room, the tennis sack dropped on the floor next to the desk as he walked towards you on the bed.

He sat down and you finally noticed his presence "hey baby how was pract- OW" you yelped as his teeth sank on your shoulder, not in a painful way but the surprise was still there.

"What the hell was that for Art?!" you laughed and turned your head around to look at him, Art still sat on the edge with his arms resting on your sides.

"I'm sorry you just looked so bitable" he said and kissed the spot where the bite mark is, Art wrapped his right arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and rested his head on your shoulder, a devious glint in his eyes as with the free hand he closed the book in your hands.

You turned around on your back "how was practice?" you repeated and kissed his lips to greet him.

He returned your kiss and smiled gently, moving to lay down next to you. He was clearly tired, practice went long today, and laying down on the bed next to you, wrapping both arms around you to pull you close to him seemed to relax him enough to finally close his eyes "I'm tired and I stink" he said softly, burying his face against the crook of your neck.

"I can tell" he pinched your waist at that and you whined "keep your teeth and fingers away from me!".

He laughed softly with that, shifting and laying fully on top of you. His head on your chest, his right hand moving up and under your shirt, resting against the skin of your side while the fingers of his other hand traced little patterns on your stomach "but you're so fun to bite and pinch" he teased, lightly biting your chest, just above your breast.

"no, no I have to go, I planned a dinner with Tashi tonight" you pushed him off of you until he is kneeled between your legs.

"Nooo, c'mon, can't you cancel your plans and stay with me for a bit? I wanna spend some time with you before I go shower" he whined and grabbed your arms, trying to pull you against him again.

"I can't, I haven't seen Tashi outside a tennis camp for what it feels like years".

"Now you're overreacting, maybe a few weeks".

"Exactly almost years" he laughed and pulled again your arms to make you sit in front of him.

"Can't you spend an hour or two with me before seeing her?" he asked and you looked at the clock and sighed.

"I really can't, but I can come here after dinner and sleep here tonight" you proposed with an encouraging smile on the lips making him hum thoughtfully, clearly not fully satisfied with that proposal, but the offer for you to stay the night was enough of a win for him.

"Promise you're coming later? And not going back to your dorm" he mumbled against your neck before he suddenly but very lightly bit your earlobe.

"pinky promise" you kissed his lips once more before standing up "but I expect you to be clean and scented when I come back, or you'll sleep on the floor" he laughed, sitting up properly on the bed.

"Of course baby, I'll shower and be all clean for you" he said with a smile on his lips "now go, get out of here before I change my mind" he teased, smacking your ass lightly.

you laughed "see you later, bye!".

"have fun baby".

Another time it happened you were trying on some clothes in your dorm room, Art sat on the edge of your bed while looking at you in the dress you just bought, it was beautiful, you were beautiful, "what do you think?" you asked twirling around in front of him.

"you look stunning baby" his arms and legs opened for you to get between them, his hands immediately went to rest on your hips while his gaze moved over your body, taking in the way the dress hugged your curves and accentuated all the right places.

"you could wear this to meet my parents" he mumbled with a smirk on his lips, his eyes met yours.

You laughed at that "yes, if I want them to look forward to you breaking up with me" he looked at you confused and you simply turned around to make him look at the back better.

He hummed "yeah, definitely too short for that" he pulled the fabric as down as possible "but you look amazing".

He moved his hands up and down your legs, admiring the view from behind while the dress rode up, going up your thighs until most of your legs were exposed, you smiled "thank you baby, but I could wear this for a date" you looked at the mirror, too focused on thinking for something to pair it with.

"love the idea".

"I could pair this with the black heel- ART" you felt a sting on your left butt cheek and you quickly left his arms, your hand going to cover the sore spot, he laughed when your turned to look at him, face shocked.

"it looks way too good in that dress, I couldn't help myself" he said in between laughs.

"Stop biting me Donaldson! I mean it" you said but there isn't real bite in your tone.

He stood up to walk towards you "what? Maybe you simply should stop looking so pretty" he teased you.

Your hand in front of you stopped him "no, no stay back you're scaring me" you said between laughters "you're sleeping on the floor tonight" he grabbed your hand swiftly and bit your wrist as softly as possible. Then, he made you turn around, back pressed against his chest and arms wrapped around your waist, his eyes looking at yours in the mirror.

"Will you let me sleep with you again if I promise not to bite you while you sleep?" he asked and you pouted a bit, pretending to think about his offer for a moment before nodding reluctantly.

"I guess so, as long as you keep your promise to not attack me at night like some feral animal" you said with a fake pout.

He huffed and mumbled a small 'fine' against your neck and you patted his biciep around your waist "now, let me try the other two dresse- ART!" he smiled sheepishly after releasing your shoulder "you never said anything about not biting you outside the bed" he winked.

"Art. Don't be ridiculous. I said 'I love you first'"

The two of you are laying in your new bed, naked skin pressed together as the early evening sunlight streams in through the gap in the curtains. The air around you feels warm, the room is filled with the sound of light-hearted bickering.

"and I told you it's not true, I did!" he exclaims and you pull away from his arms to turn and look him in the eyes. The sheets around you ruffles at your movements and Art gets more comfortable against the mattress, the sheets are covering his lower parts of him and leaving his chest naked, one hand on his stomach while the other is still under your head, his fingers lazily playing with your hair as he lays on his back now.

"why are you lying? it was our four months anniversary and I told you I loved you during the picnic at the beach!" he just shakes his head, his eyes stared lovingly at you.

"that was the first time you said it to me, I told you waaaay before that" you raise your eyebrows in disbelief, a mix of irritation and curiosity in your expression.

"Okay, fine. If you're so sure you told me first, then when exactly did you say it? Surely you can remember the circumstances of such a monumental moment" you shoot back.

He ignores the irritation in your voice and begins to talk "we were in my dorm room, you were reading a book in my bed and I had just returned from my training... you looked so beautiful and I couldn't help it, we were together for two weeks" you frown and lift your bust to rest on your elbows, eyes looking at the wall in front of you like it can help you remember that moment.

"Wait, I think I remember that day" you say, your eyes still fixed on the wall in a thoughtful gaze "I do remember that I was in your bed, reading a book and that you had just gotten back from practice... but I don't remember you saying anything"

"well, technically I didn't say it... I bit you" you blink at him.

"you bit me" he nodded proudly.

"how was I even supposed to understand that was an 'I love you'?!" you are flabbergasted.

"I do it all the time!".

"yes but it doesn't mean 'I love you'" you laugh incredulous.

"for me it does!"

"for normal people it doesn't!" you can't believe what he is saying. He seriously thinks that biting equals an "I love you".

"Okay, hold on. So, you're telling me that every time you bite me, you're actually telling me that you love me? I thought you're just being playful..."

He shakes his head, a smirk playing on his lips. He clearly thinks that it's a reasonable assumption "when I first wanted to tell you... I felt like it was too soon and I didn't want to scare you away so I sticked to bites" he explains.

You can't help but roll your eyes at his logic. It's silly but also kind of sweet.

"So instead of just telling me you love me like a normal person, you thought resorting to biting me was a more reasonable approach?" you ask, trying not to laugh but failing miserably. He looks at you obviously proud of himself and you shake your head in disbelief at that, god how you love him.

You hide your head in his neck, arms wrapped around him and his around you, his naked skin against yours comforting. You can feel his heartbeat close to your ear, steady and strong. He sighs contentedly and rests his chin on the top of your head, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back.

Suddenly, he feels your teeth sinking softly in his neck before nibbling it over and over again, his smile grows wider and his heart explodes of joy.

His lips moves closer to your ear, his breath warm against your skin as he whispers softly in it...

"I love you too".

Art loves to love you.

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

Do not copy or repost.

#art donaldson fic rec

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glossymendes · 11 months ago

Text

charmed

e. munson x reader, 3k

summary: eddie comes home from a long day at work to discover wayne has a pretty surprise for him includes: established!eddie x reader, wayne being the sweetest paternal figure, mumblings of a found family, wayne manifesting a daughter in law by years end warnings: afab reader, non descript

a/n: writing from the boys perspective is always way more fun. i have so many thoughts about wayne and eddie's relationship.

Eddie had intended to be home earlier, a far cry earlier than the 9:30 that blinked hazily on his vans dashboard as he pulled in before the trailer. He was meant to be home hours ago, hoping to enjoy a Friday night the way that a young person ought to – out with the people he loved. Instead he sat in his driver's seat, covered in oil and grime and god knows what else from under the hood of some deadbeat richman from the other side of town. The apprentice had fucked the repair of a rather pricey car, one that was to be picked up first thing monday, and Eddie didn’t have it in him to let the little guy drown under the barrage of abuse from an intimidating customer.

So he stayed back, and now he was paying the price. Dinner would have been long over by now, and it was unlikely that Wayne was still home at such an hour. He usually had the night shift on this pay cycle, but Eddie couldn’t tell one from another these days. The lights were still on, his indication that he’d gotten his weeks wrong.

Worn leather boots beat against the gravel as he trekked towards the door, hand running through the curls that hung low on his forehead; wild, in desperate need of a trim. He was spent, body weary and limp from the extra strain. He wanted to call his friends, to call you, to ask for good company, but he knew even now he was too tired to go anywhere.

The door was unlocked, so he slipped into the warmth of the trailer with an involuntary shiver, eyes blinking tiredly to spot the figure propped up on the couch. Wayne. Beer in hand, chin shadowed with stubble; Eddie’s hero, if anyone were to ever ask. The old man was his favourite person, whether he knew it or not.

Wayne gave a gruff smile, tilting his chin up at his nephew. “Long day, boy?”

“Yeah.” Eddie breathed, voice more gravelly than he’d realised. “Got stuck back, sorry I didn’t call.”

Wayne shrugged. “I figured, though there’s a surprise in your room f’you.”

A surprise? Eddie couldn’t possibly guess what. “You’re joking.”

Wayne simply smiled in response, shaking his head. “You go have a look ‘n tell me if I’m joking. Just be quiet about it.”

Eddie gave a quizzical sort of look, boots resounding against the floorboards as he moved towards the room, a quick mumble from Wayne catching his attention again.

“Quieter than that.”

Eddie scoffed, his demeanour still playful despite his disbelief. He took more careful steps this time, readjusting the band wrapped clumsily around his bound tresses, trying to alleviate the steadily subsiding headache from two hours ago. Wayne had never been much of a secret keeper, nor was he one for dramatics. He was a pragmatic, realistic, nonfrivolous sort of man, which made that excitable little sparkle in his uncle’s eyes all the more amusing. Wayne didn’t play tricks, but Eddie couldn’t help but feel he was walking into one.

With a slow turn of his door handle, Eddie eased the gap open, his eyes scanning the silent dark until his gaze settled upon the mountain of blankets upon his bed. There, buried under three blankets of comfort, was you. It might have been hard to tell under any other circumstances, but even half asleep and exhausted out of his mind, Eddie knew he could recognise your silhouette anywhere. He softened instantaneously, body slackening slightly under the slow wave of adoration that overcame him. You were here to see him. Talk about a surprise, he hadn’t expected to see you today, and now he felt his ribs pressing in tightly together, chest constricting with a glad sort of giddiness.

He was gentle in closing the door again, his smile bemused at his now grinning uncle. “And how’d my girl end up in there, hm?”

He toed off his boots, movements suddenly precise and careful under the presence of your company. Even through the closed door, he had no desire to rouse you just yet. Not until he was ready, clean and showered and shed of all other obligations, able to dedicate himself to your company.

“She came by at 5,” Wayne explained, turning down the quiet shout of the television set with a well worn remote, “thought you’d be home soon, wanted to surprise you. I told her she was welcome t’wait, thinkin’ you’d be round earlier. But y’weren’t, so we had some dinner.”

Wayne paused, nudging his chin towards the fridge, which Eddie took to mean there was leftovers waiting for him inside. He began rustling through, finding what was left of a roast and vegetables wrapped up neatly in foil. It was a little more extravagant than he had expected, and Eddie chalked that up to your aid in the kitchen. He could see the container of biscuits on the counter, too, with little hearts and flowers piped onto the tops. Pinks and blues and reds and whites, this wasn’t a house for sweets and softness, though Eddie welcomed your charms in any way he could get them. He sat at the table to feast, unbothered to even reheat the feast.

Wayne continued on. “Thought she might go lookin’ for y’, but we got a’talking. She’s a real sweet thing, y’know, made a real effort to chat. Even offered to sit down ‘n watch a game with me, thought I didn’t have the heart t’put her through it. Ended up watchin’ some Antiques Roadshow thinkin’ she’d like it better; you ever seen me watchin’ that before? I ain’t never had much care, but we had good fun.”

“No shit!” Eddie piped up, astounded by the softened edges of his Uncle. You’d charmed him, he thought, with your curious questions and kind smiles. For Wayne to sit down and talk to anyone was a miracle, one that only an angel could perform. His Angel.

“We got guessin’ and everythin’.” Wayne added, wiping roughly at his smile. “Seemed tired, though, so I told her to crash in your room. She’s been out maybe half an hour.”

Astounded was an understatement. Eddie had brought girls home before he met you, though none had bothered to exchange more than polite pleasantries with his Uncle. He’d never been serious about them, so he’d never thought much of it, and then came you. Three months into this new connection, a relationship born of spring flowers and whisky nights and loud music and soft touches. Eddie had never been serious until now, until you, and now he couldn’t picture being anything else but.

He was glowing, beaming from ear to ear. “So you like her, then?” He was so hopeful in his question, a sincerity Wayne only ever saw reserved for the most heartfelt of Eddie’s dreamings.

“I do.” Wayne announced, washing down his contentment with another swig of his beer. “I hope y’re serious ‘bout her, she’s real soft on you, and I think she’s a good one. Seems to make you happy enough, you ain’t mopin’ nearly so much these days.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, groaning with faux annoyance, rolling foil into a tiny ball to toss across the room, missing Wayne by a good foot of space. “I don’t mope.”

“I don’t mope my ass, kid, you mope plenty. Just not anymore.” He was laughing now, worn lines creasing at the corners of his eyes. “I said she should come back f’dinner another night, we can all eat together. She was tellin’ me ‘bout this story she was readin’, and I’ll be damned if I don’t know how it ends.”

Eddie knew how this story ended; it ended with you. It began with you, too. It was all you, he couldn’t see any other ending for him.

“Yeah, that sounds good, old man.” He was doing his best to stomach the meal, but his words were caught around hastily eaten mouthfuls half chewed and uneasy to swallow. He’d give himself heartburn if he wasn’t careful, and it would have been worth it.

Eddie took a moment to pause, swallowing thickly, belching unceremoniously in a way he was glad you weren't there to witness. “I am serious, y’know, about her. Real serious. I got a good feeling.”

“Yeah?” Wayne questioned, sinking back into the sofa.

“Yeah. She could be the one; ain’t that somethin’? I always thought it was bull when people said you just know, but…” he laughed with astonishment, “I think I just know.”

“Well shit,” Wayne exclaimed, clearing his throat, “that’s real good, Ed’s. You just be good and treat her nice. Be a gentleman.”

Eddie wasn’t too sure he knew how to be a gentleman, but somehow, he knew you liked him all the same. He didn’t need to be anything but himself around you, and that was a one in a billion kind of feeling,

He was quick in his cleaning, fumbling around the kitchen to pack away a still soaking plate, his mind skating over the plastic drying rack by the sink entirely. “I’m bein’ good, I swear.”

“Bullshit.” Wayne teased, shaking his head. He braced himself on his knees, slowly rising to his feet with a groan. “I’m goin’ to bed. Tell her she’s welcome to stay whenever she likes, okay? Show her where the spare key is.”

“I will.” Eddie nodded, barely able to fight his slow building excitement. He could feel himself getting restless, hands flexing just at the thought of holding you. “G’night, Wayne.”

“G’night son.” He echoed back, disappearing into the quiet of his own room.

Eddie made sure to lock up on his way, switching off the tv and lights as his own sort of wind down ritual. They’d be on all night if he wasn’t careful, and he’d spied the last bill long enough to have a mind for the electricity now. Besides, he needed to be calm when he woke you. He’d half frightened you to death last time he came barrelling in.

Once again, he retreated towards his room, slipping into the dark like a shadow of the night, slowly shucking his way out of his overalls to kick to the side of the room. He didn’t mind staining his sheets with oil, but not you; you were something worth caring for. He knew he should have showered, but the sweat on his skin could hardly deter him from the need he had to be close to you, to ease away the troubles of his way with the balm of your skin against his, your whispers ringing in his head.

He fumbled his way to the edge of the mattress, your sleeping body facing away from him to the back wall of the room. He peered a little closer into the darkness, a sliver of moonlight cascading across the bare curve of your shoulder, arm wrapped around something small, something fuzzy…

“Well shit, Ted, what’re you doing in here?” Eddie hadn’t thought to consider where the ragdoll cat had scampered off to. Teddy had been adopted only a few weeks after Eddie came to live with Wayne, his Uncle’s way of easing the boy into this entirely new world together. Teddy had been his childhood companion, and by the way he was burrowed into the pudge of your stomach, purring louder than a car engine, Eddie could see you’d won him over too.

The cat barely stirred, rather giving him a grumbled sort of chirp at being disturbed, before wriggling his way further under the blankets. You, however, made the softest of whining noises that left Eddie’s heart near strangling in his chest. He lifted a ring clad hand to that moonlight shoulder, brushing callouses across the line of freckles that dusted your skin, watching as your eyes began to flutter open, head turning slightly to face him.

“Eddie!” No one in the world had ever been so enthusiastic to see him before, not one. His name wasn’t the kind to roll off the tongue, to be begged for or shouted out or held tenderly on someone's lips. Never before, but the way your mouth wrapped around the letters seemed to change the word entirely. Nothing had ever sounded so tender, so wanting, so pleased. You were always pleased to see him, a feeling he never had to doubt when he could see it so plainly reflected in your irises.

“Honey.” He cooed back, tugging up the corner of the bedsheets to slip beneath them, curving his body to fit the shape of your own, nudging his knee between your two just to feel your skin pressed against his own in every possible way. The hair on his body was just as wild as the hair on his head, but nothing felt like home to him more than the brush of your skin to the mess of his. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You exhaled a lengthy yawn, muffling the sound into his pillow with a hum. Your hair, once styled, now seemed mussed and flattened under the weight of your head. His bed linens were already tattooing precious creases into sleep warmed skin. You were too beautiful for him to even comprehend.

You turned in his arms, careful not to disrupt the grumbling cat beside you despite your eagerness. He felt arms press their way around him, your nose nuzzling at his chin. “Wayne let me in. I hope that’s okay.”

Literally nothing else could have been more okay in his mind. It was perfect. This was perfect; coming home to you. “Come by anytime, baby. I’m just sorry I wasn’t back sooner. I made you wait.”

You shook your head. “I didn’t mind. Wayne’s really cool. He kept me company.”

“So I heard.” His voice was edged with an air of amusement, his hand lifting to brush back the strands of hair falling across your face, leaving his palm to cup at the plush of your cheek, his eyes admiring even in the dark. “Antiques Roadshow?”

You let out a giggle. “We panicked! I was trying to make a good impression, and he suggested it so I thought why not. Honestly it was pretty fun, I could totally watch another episode.”

“Mm.” His lips met the button of your nose dotingly, his voice slackening to a syrupy smoothness. “He’s impressed, I’m impressed; you’ve got us Munson men wrapped around your pretty little finger. Even Teddy’s on your side.”

“I do not!” You chided, helpless against his onslaught of affection. He left you preening and giddy, a little lightheaded when he loved on you like this, and Eddie never had any intention of stopping. “Teddy just wanted a cuddle.”

“Him and me both.” Eddie asserted, snaking his other arm beneath the arch of your waist, wrapping around the small of your back to tug you in further, his smile resoundingly bright at the way you hummed happily. “We’re not too young to be asleep by 10, are we?”

The way you eased into the very fabric of him, your bodies so close and so connected, wrapped tightly in the warmth of his room, was enough assurance to him that you were just as content here as he was. “No. I’m not leaving this spot. You just got home, and I’m all sleepy, and Ted’s gonna get mad if we move.”

Ted chirped an affirmative sound, leaving Eddie to rasp a laugh. “Well we can’t make Teddy mad, can we. Gotta stay here all night with my girl.”

You chuckled softly in turn, your voice quieting under the weight of exhaustion. “I was meant to keep you company, but I’m so sleepy.” Another yawn parted your plush lips, leaving Eddie with no choice but to press his own to the corner once they came back together again.

“You are keepin’ me company. Think I’ll sleep a bunch better with you keepin’ me warm. I’ll take you on a date tomorrow, hm? After a big sleep in?”

“You’re so sexy when you talk like that.” You mumbled, your lashes fluttering shut to rest against your cheeks. “I’d kiss you stupid if I could move.”

Besotted was not a strong enough word for what Eddie felt in that moment, but he was overwhelmed with the urge to litter a smattering of kisses from the edge of your cheekbone to the corners of your forehead, each one softer than the last, lulling you into that sweet place of slumber you were already drifting towards.

“Kiss me stupid tomorrow. Sleep, sweetheart.” You didn’t need to be told twice. Within moments, Eddie watched the light in your flicker to a dim, pale glow, your breathing evening out to something unhurried. Peaceful. It didn’t matter to him that he had only had those brief moments with you tonight. Five minutes with you was enough to chase away all the strife of a day otherwise written off in his mind. And that was what his life had been missing, after all. Someone who made going to sleep at 10pm look like the greatest moment of his life. He wanted to keep you to himself, a greedy kind of possessiveness stirring in his gut, for as long as he was able, knowing full well that less than twelve hours from now, Wayne would without a doubt be waiting to make you both breakfast on his morning off.

Like he said, you had all the Munson boys charmed.

#eddie munson fic rec

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glossymendes · 11 months ago

Text

FAIR PLAY — RAFE CAMERON

summary: You spend a sleepy morning with Rafe.

length: 2k

contains: literally no plot, so so so much fluff, Rafe calling you baby nonstop because I just know he would, Rafe being downright obsessed and makes it painfully obvious, suggestive comments, some teasing, short n' sweet n' bubbly

You wake up to kisses on your neck, an arm wrapped around your waist, and a sore back. Your legs are tangled with Rafe’s beneath his bedsheets as the warmth of his touch starts to consume you again. You open your eyes but quickly let them slide closed again once you see through the open window a bright blue sky, telling you the sun rose hours ago; what’s a little more wasted time?

“Mmm,” you groan, not yet lively enough for conversation but still wanting to make your awareness known.

Rafe smiles and presses a kiss to your shoulder. “ ‘S that mean ‘I love you’ in some other language?” The arm slung over your body comes back to life, and his hand rubs along your waist and hip.

You keep your eyes closed and face nuzzled into the pillow, soaking in the feeling of his touch and the mid-morning breeze through the window. “My back hurts.”

“Oh, my poor baby,” he coos, kissing your jaw and before propping himself up on his elbow and slipping his hand from your waist up to your face to brush your hair out of the way. “Did I fuck you too good last night?” Another kiss, this time to your cheek. “I’ll make a note for next time.”

Bastard.

You turn away from him, grumbling out the words Shut up as you start pulling the covers over your head. He grabs your wrist before you’re too far gone, laughing to himself something sweet that has your heart reeling back to him, and he puts more of his weight on you with his arm wrapping around you much tighter. His muscles flex against you and he smells of coffee and oakmoss cologne and everything that feels like home.

“Come on, love, you know I’m just teasing.” He knows he’s more convincing this way, when he lays the charm on thick, but you’re stubborn this morning. Maybe he did fuck you too good. Your silence makes him impatient, and he gently pinches your arm. “Baby?”

You groan again, trailing off to shut him down. You could get used to this, having him love on you all day in bed as you stay somewhere between sleep and cognizance.

“Baby.” He pouts. He gives another kiss to your shoulder and he thinks he might die if you don’t return the favor soon.

You shuffle in his arms, turning your body to face his and hooking your leg over his waist. “Rub my back, please?”

After pressing a kiss to your temple, he answers, “Of course.” His frown is quickly replaced by a big grin and a spark in his heart. Without pulling you from his chest, he shifts to lay on his back and pulls you to lay on him with your legs now straddling his waist, mussing the sheets further by doing so. Your weight on his body in full just feels right, like he should keep you glued to him. “In exchange for a kiss?”

You smile against his skin, letting your hands roam to feel him, smooth beneath you. You kiss his collarbone and his hands press against your lower back, soothing your aches just right, and you quickly press your lips to the other side of his chest to pay him back.

Planting your hands against his chest, you lift your head. Rafe looks good like this, with morning light and a backdrop of ivory silk sheets, and you quickly lean in to taste the coffee on his lips. His arms curl a little tighter against you, hands rub a little firmer, and he smirks into your kiss as one hand presses between your shoulder blades, warmth erupting in your stomach. You pull away and he chases your lips, though you leave him with only a peck to the corner of his mouth. The playful smile you wear makes him fall that much harder.

You let your head rest against him and his hands resume their job. It feels so natural, laying with him in nothing but your underwear; he brings you a comfort no one has before, and as his rough and calloused hands caress your skin you can only think about how lucky you are to see this side of him.

His chest rises and falls with his breath, and you trace shapes into his skin. Rafe wasn’t always like this, so physically affectionate with you. There was a time when he kept up his guard and had a hard shell to crack; slowly but surely, he soon realized, you brought it crumbling to the ground. He often thinks about what his life was like before you: it was dull, it was empty, it was unfulfilling and boring and isolating. You bring to him a contentment he didn’t think was possible. Your body slotted against his keeps him sane.

“Hey, Rafe?” You tilt your head to see his face again.

He smiles down at you, speaking softly, “Yes, baby?”

You start shifting in your position, propping yourself up again as you hum to yourself and hold his face in the palms of your hands. You stop to stare at him, observing his smooth, tanned skin; the faintest freckles dotted over his nose and cheeks; his bright blue eyes that tell you everything; his smile tugging at his lips. “You’re so beautiful,” you think out loud—and he is, though the million ways he shows he loves you make the physical pale in comparison. Your thumbs brush against his cheeks, now flushed at your candor.

“Stop that.” He bites back a smile and pushes your face away. “You can’t say that.”

You laugh softly at his bashfulness, and oh, how that sound makes it worse for him. “I’m just being honest,” you coo, “What’s wrong with that?” Leaning into him, you capture his words in a kiss before they can slip through.

His skin burns at your touch, and he mumbles against your lips with his forehead pressed against yours. “You never play fair.” His hands trace the arch in your back the way he knows drives you crazy.

“I’m not playing anything, love.” You sit up, perched at his waist as you drag your hands from his shoulders down to his navel, tracing his pecs and the ripples in his abs. His hands rest on your hips with his thumbs teasing at the lace hem of your panties, and you bite at your lip at the sight of him beneath you.

He catches onto your game, and quick, though he can’t say he isn’t willing to play, especially when he’s got the perfect view of your thighs, your waist, your breasts. All because you want him to—and that more than anything has his pulse running fast and briefs growing tight. “Thinking about something, baby?”

You wish you could wipe that grin off his face. “No, nothing at all.” Walking your hands up his torso, you lean down to kiss him again. One hand cups his jaw as you tease your tongue past his lips and move your hips against him, and you fight back a moan as you pull away, a buzz in your lips and running through your veins. “You taste like coffee,” you add, beginning to lift yourself from his lap.

His hands slip by your hips again, and he groans. “Where are you going?”

You sit up with your legs hanging over the edge of the bed, reaching your arms up and out as you sigh, a sound so heavenly to him that he can’t help but follow you. Sitting behind you, he curls his torso around yours, his arms tightening around your waist as he kisses your shoulder.

Your arms fall back to your sides and layer on top of his as you take a deep breath. “You’re very clingy today.” Not that you’re complaining.

“Where are you going?” he insists, like it’s a crime to leave his bed. He clearly isn’t as stubborn as you thought, because once you start standing up, his arms loosen their grip. One of your hands drags down his arm as you walk away, taking his hand in yours as you make your way to the bathroom.

“Taking a shower,” you chirp. You flick the switch and let light fill the space.

“Why?”

A laugh escapes you as you turn. “Rafe, did you seriously just ask me why I’m taking a shower?”

He shrugs and pulls you closer, leaning against the counter as he urges you to lean against him. “You could’ve stayed in bed with me.” His hands take hold of your waist again, a developed instinct. He looks down at you with a love drunk grin on his face, like he’ll never get enough of you.

“Oh, so that’s what this is about.” You smile and loop your arms around his neck, scratching softly the way you know he likes. “As much as I would love to stay naked in bed with you,” you hum, pulling him in closer as you step on your tippy toes, enrapturing him all over again with your soothing voice and addicting lips against his. “I have some errands to run.” You lean back and take his jaw in your hand as he pouts. “ ‘Kay?”

“What do you have to do?” There’s a hopeful lilt in his voice, but his pout stays strong.

“Errands. Boring stuff.”

“Baby—”

“What,” you giggle, partly because you know it’ll make him weak for you, and partly because it really is funny when he gets like this. “Do you wanna come with me? Keep me company?”

He knows he shouldn’t give in so easily, but when your hands are on him, and you’ve got that big, bright smile on your face, you’re hard to resist. “...Yeah,” he admits, a blush rising to his cheeks again.

You give him a quick peck to his lips and a pat on his chest. “I want you to come, too, but that still means I need to shower.”

He pulls you close one last time to press his lips to your forehead before letting go. He leans back into the counter with his hands resting next to him as he watches you turn on the shower, paying him no mind as you then turn toward the closet and pull a towel from the shelf. This might be the hardest part about being yours, but also his favorite: just observing, getting to keep an eye on you during your day to day, menial little tasks, listening to your soft hums of songs you’ve always loved.

You slide your panties down your legs, all too aware of Rafe’s eyes on you, and open the frosted glass door, steam floating up toward the ceiling as hot water cascades over your body. You tilt your head back into the stream and take a few moments to soak up that warmth, that comfort, until you swear you hear the faucet running outside. Is he brushing his teeth again? You hear the tap halt before the sound of someone definitely brushing their teeth for the next couple minutes. You doubt that dental hygiene is all that important to him at the moment, but the faucet picks back up again, briefly, before you hear what you assume is a toothbrush falling back into place. A tall, blurry form—Rafe, of course—takes a seat on the edge of the tub. You haven’t even reached for your shampoo or your soap, too preoccupied and humored by his anticipation. You see his fuzzy knee bounce up and down.

When you open the glass door just enough to peek your head out, he keeps his eyes on the ground, almost like he’s too focused on not being focused. “Rafe?” It’s soft, but just enough to catch his attention.

His gaze shoots to you, his knee stops bouncing. “Yes, baby?” He wears a look like a deer in headlights.

“Care to join me?” A smile pulls at your lips.

His face lights up, he shoots up from his seat, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him strip so fast—not that there was much to remove, anyway. He nearly jumps into the shower behind you, water far too hot for his comfort shooting beams into his back as he catches you in another kiss that's all giggles and smiles and teeth.

Now this, he thinks, is more than fair. He could play this game for a lifetime.

#rafe cameron fic rec

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