#kait's writes

[sunshineting]

Sleeping w the monster trio

Luffy- you know what sleeping with a kid is like? Yeah. He rolls, he kicks, he somehow ends up diagonal across the bed. At some point, he’ll decide he wants to cuddle and wrap his arms around you like three times. Has a silly sounding snore and drools sometimes, but it’s cute.

Sanji- he has to be touching you in some way. He loves being big spoon but being little spoon comforts him in a way he’s never experienced before. If either of you decide it’s too hot to cuddle, he’ll still try and hold your hand or reach his leg out to you. Hell, if y’all are faced completely away from each other he scoots his butt up against yours so they’re touching.

Zoro- the man sleeps like a brick; we know this. He snores so loud. You get used to it pretty easily, but damn. It's really only bad when he’s got you locked in his arms and starts snoring right in your ear. He gets hot so easily when he sleeps that he starts sweating and its gross

[katsu28]

for you i'd wait forever

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

summary: bradley breaks things off with you before a deployment because he doesn't want you to worry about him (4.2k)

warnings: some swearing, bradley's commitment issues, happy ending i promise!

a/n: okay so from what i gathered from my googling is that tapping out is typically for new military graduates (i think?) but this idea was so cute so pls forgive the inaccuracies i have no idea what i'm doing at all <3 and also pls forgive me for the utter lack of writing since the beginning of the year, these last few months have been brutal (creatively and otherwise) but i am hopefully back!!! xx

Bradley thought he knew the tolls of being in the Navy. It was tough on not only him, but the people in his life. For the most part, he’d always put his career first. His life had always been on a set track, and although there were plenty of setbacks, he forged ahead until he got where he was today. 

And then he met you. Fell in love with you. Finally knew what it meant to have someone in his corner who was just his. Who knew him for him only, not as Goose’s kid, or Mav’s protege.

For the first time in his life, he could actually see himself spending the rest of it with you. Marriage, house, kids, grandkids—the whole shebang.

That was his first mistake. The more he thought about what life could look like with you, the more he thought about what your life could look like without him. What would happen if something happened to him and he didn’t make it back from this next mission coming up in a few weeks. 

He thought about his mom and how she lost his dad—her husband. The man she thought she’d be spending the rest of her life with. 

Bradley’s thoughts grew quite grim after that. Countless what if’s and thinking about every possible outcome and he eventually made up his mind. He had to break up with you. 

He didn’t want to. Not by a long shot. You were probably the best thing that ever happened to him in his thirty plus years of life. But deep down, he knew that it was the right thing to do. He was about to leave for six, seven months, with little to no contact with anyone who wasn’t Navy. That would definitely take a toll on your relationship. You’d never been through something like this before, and there really was no way to prepare you for what it would be like. 

You would worry about him every single hour of every single day, he knew that for a fact. Bradley barely remembered what it was like when his dad was away because he was so young, but he did remember how worried his mom was all the time.

Looking back, he understood now. He didn’t want that for you. The worry would hold you back from other things you wanted to do in life, things that brought you joy and gave you purpose. 

With the mission creeping up on him faster than he would’ve liked, he knew he had to do it sooner rather than later. 

That was how Bradley found himself on your doorstep right now, pushing down his guilt by telling himself over and over that breaking up with you was in your best interest. He hadn’t called beforehand to tell you he was coming by, so when you answered the door and beamed brighter than the stars when your eyes landed on him, he almost wanted to chicken out. 

“Hi!” You exclaimed, immediately pulling him into a warm hug. His arms closed around you out of instinct, thumb rubbing over the sliver of exposed skin at your waist, nose nudging its way against your neck the way he always did when you embraced him. 

He inhaled the scent of the lotion you loved to use, that flowery one that sometimes made him sneeze. You always said you��d buy a different one the next time you went to the store, but you always forgot. He didn’t mind it at all though. A small bout of allergies was nothing compared to the inevitable smattering of apology kisses you pressed to his face when you realized you’d forgotten. 

Fuck, this was going to be way harder than he thought. 

Your hands made their way up his biceps to cup his cheeks, eyes darting around his face. “What’re you doing here? Oh my god, did we have something planned? I’m so—” 

“No.” He gave his head a shake, offering you a smile. “No, we didn’t have anything planned. I just…wanted to see you. To talk to you.” 

“Come in, come in, I was just about to start dinner,” You hummed, escaping his embrace with an arm hooked through his to tug him over the threshold. “Trying a new recipe I found the other day, not sure if it’ll turn out good or end up being a shitshow, but—well, you can help me be the judge of that, I guess!” 

“Is it okay if we talk first?” 

If you were confused, you didn’t show it, just changed direction seamlessly, making your way to the couch instead of the kitchen. You sat down, patting the cushion next to you for him to settle on and he did, rubbing his clammy palms against his thighs. 

“Is everything okay?” 

Everything was far from okay, he wanted to say. Instead he inhaled a deep breath before his next words. 

“I wanted to tell you I’m shipping out in a few weeks.” 

Your face fell a little, but you nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. What do we do? Is there anything you can tell me? Like, what’s the best way to get in touch with you, when’s the best time, that kind of stuff? Or is sending letters better? Sorry, I feel like I’m asking a lot of questions. I don’t—I’ve never really done anything like this before, so—” 

“I think we should break up.” He blurted. 

You hesitated before answering, blinking at him like you’d somehow heard him wrong. “What?” 

“It’s hard having someone overseas for a long time, even more so when it’s a partner. It was really hard on my mom, and hard for me having to watch her worry like that for months, and I—I don’t want that for you.” He said quietly, not daring to meet your eyes until he gave his poor excuse for an explanation on why he was doing the one thing he swore he wouldn’t do to you. 

The moment he’d realized he’d fallen in love with you, he’d promised himself he would never abandon you, never break your heart or your trust, and here he was, doing that exact thing. It was tearing him apart inside. 

“I don’t want you to have to go through all that, so it’s just better if we—that we break up now. Before I go.” 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m sorry. It’s for the best.” 

“Why are you doing this?” Your voice broke just after the last word, swallowed up by a hitched inhale of a breath that had his resolve wavering just the slightest bit. He could barely look you in the eyes the whole time, and now…he didn’t think he could stand the sadness and hurt flooding every single one of your beautiful features. 

“All the worrying and the uncertainty of not knowing what’s happening, I don’t—it wouldn’t be fair to you. I care about you too much to put you through all of that.” 

You were silent for the longest time, eyes glued to the floor as you processed the information. He thought you were about to start crying with the way your brow creased, but when you finally looked back up at him, your gaze had hardened. “Did these last six months mean nothing to you? You’re just gonna throw everything away because what—you don’t think I can handle it?” 

They meant everything to me, he wanted to say. You mean everything to me. 

If he was really being honest with himself, it was him who couldn’t handle it. Still, he forged on, thinking it best to just rip off the bandaid. He could live with being the asshole if it meant sparing you from the terrible experience of him being god knows how many miles away for months. 

“I’m sorry. I wish you nothing but happiness, Y/N. You deserve better than anything I could ever give you.” 

“You wish me nothing but happiness?” You chuckled humorlessly, shaking your head. Bradley’s eyes tracked you across the room as you paced back and forth, guilt ridden expression on full display. All he wanted to do was take all of it back; to kiss you senseless and tell you everything was going to work out, but he couldn’t. He’d burned the bridge, cut the rope. Broke your heart. He felt like the biggest asshole in the world. He probably was. “Screw you, Bradley. I mean it.”

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was all he could say. 

“Get the fuck out of my house.” 

“Y/N, I—” 

You rushed at him, pushing, shoving, sending him stumbling step by step towards the front door until he almost crashed into it had he not managed to pull it open a split second before you shoved him outside. He’d never forget the look of betrayal in your eyes right before you slammed the door in his face. 

Bradley forced his feet to take him back to his car, then to drive away before he could have a chance to even try and make things better. He’d most likely end up making things much, much worse. Though he didn’t think it could get any worse with the way he was feeling about himself right now. You were angry at him, and you had every right to be. 

But had he lingered at your door only moments after, he would’ve heard the thump against the wood that was you sliding down to the floor and the sob that escaped your mouth. 

All because of him. 

-------

Bradley was happy to finally be coming back home after ages away, but then he realized it—he didn’t have anyone to tap him out this time. His mind jumped to you first, but there was no chance in hell you’d be there for him. You’d probably moved on months ago. Forgotten about him. And with Mav away on another deployment, he really had no one. 

His chest ached the longer he stood at attention, jaw clenched tighter than he meant it to be as he watched the rest of his squad get tapped out by their loved ones. Coyote’s parents, Fanboy’s sisters, Hangman’s nieces and nephews, Phoenix’s girlfriend. They were all emotional reunions, and Bradley was happy for them, he really was. But it sucked being the one with nobody there for him. 

He wasn’t expecting the soft tap on his arm when it came. He thought it was a mistake at first; someone else’s family bumping into him accidentally, so he didn’t move. But when the hand didn’t leave its place wrapped loosely around his bicep, Bradley knew it really was for him. He turned around, squinting against the blinding sunlight to see who’d come for him. 

“Hi.” You said softly, hand dropping back down to your side. He couldn’t help but let himself take you in, eyes drinking in every single achingly familiar detail of you until you shifted nervously under his intense gaze. You looked so beautiful he almost felt dizzy, just like he remembered but at the same time somehow even better. 

“You came.” He said, disbelieving. He could still hardly believe you were actually here. 

“I promised you I would.” 

“But that—that was before…everything happened. Why are you—what’re you doing here?” The last thing he wanted to sound like was ungrateful, because he was quite literally the opposite, but his mind just couldn’t wrap around the fact that despite him breaking your heart seven months ago, you still remembered what you’d promised him in the very beginning of your relationship. 

“What does it mean to tap someone out?” You asked quietly, tracing a finger along the planes of Bradley’s bare chest. Your legs were tangled under the covers, both of you still basking in the aftermath of getting reacquainted with each other again after Bradley had been out of town attending a weeklong training exercise. 

His skin was still damp with sweat, but you didn’t mind one bit, too busy exploring the expanse of muscle shifting under his bronzed skin again. “In military terms, I mean.” 

He chuckled, hiding a content smile into the hair at the crown of your head. “That’s a weird question.” 

“Humor me, Bradshaw.” 

“Yes ma’am.” Bradley stroked a rough palm down the smooth skin of your arm, taking a few beats to come up with an answer that would make sense. “Tapping out is a super long standing tradition in pretty much all military units, I think. It comes at the end of a mission, when we’ve come back to base.” 

His arm repositioned itself under your head as he scooted closer to the warmth radiating from your body, nose nuzzling deeper against you just so he could engrain the smell of your lingering fruity scented shampoo into his memory forever. 

How you still smelled so good even after your…physical activities just before this was beyond him, but he loved it. 

“An aviator’s loved ones are usually the ones to do it. Friends, family, those kinds of people. When you tap out your aviator, literally you’re releasing them from formation. But I guess it’s kind of a gesture that means…you’re home.” 

Your wandering fingers stilled against his skin, lingering right above his heart. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Go for it.” 

“Who usually taps you out?” 

Bradley remained silent. It was an innocent question, he knew that. He’d told you a little bit about his parents, and you were just curious. Still, it sent a pang of sadness through his chest whenever he thought about what it would’ve been like if they were still around today. 

He cleared his throat, sniffing once. “Usually Mav. Or sometimes one of my squad’s family. If no one can, I just gotta wait til everyone else is done.” 

“I wanna do it.”

“What?” 

“I’m gonna be there next time you come back from a mission. To tap you out.” 

“I appreciate it, honey, I do. But you don’t need to.” 

“I want to.” You said firmly, pulling away from him to prop yourself up on your elbow and look him in the eye. You looked damn serious too. He raised a quizzical brow. “You said that to tap someone out means to tell them they’re home. I want to be the one to tell you you’re home. Here. With me.” 

Bradley opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then snapped shut when no words came out. He really was at a loss for words. No one had ever done that before. Sure, Mav’s offer was always a good one to fall back on, but Bradley had never had someone he cared about as much as he did about you telling him they were going to be there for him. 

The next best thing he could think of instead of saying anything at all was to kiss you. So he did. 

He pushed himself up towards you, sliding a hand around the nape of your neck and pressing his lips against yours. Not bruisingly hard, but enough to let you know he was all in. The other hand curled around your shoulder, splaying across your back to bring you back in closer to him, until your chests were flush and you could feel his heartbeat thundering under your palm.

He was home. You were his home. 

“I told you I’d be here to tap you out, and I meant it.” You said simply, holding his gaze. “I keep my promises, Bradshaw. Even after the way you left things.” 

Red hot guilt crept its way through his chest like vines, bringing all the memories of the last time you saw each other right back up to the surface, even after how hard he’d tried to shove them all down. If there was one thing he regretted in life, it was how he left you that night. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for that one. 

“I don’t even know what to say, Y/N, I—” 

“Then let me say something.” You blurted, wringing your hands. Bradley nodded instantly, still too dumbfounded to reply. “I’ve been thinking about what I wanted to say to you today for months. I don’t even know if I should.” 

“You should.” He encouraged, nodding quickly. He’d always wanted you to be able to speak your mind with him. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear it.” 

“Okay. Okay, well first of all, you’re an asshole, Bradley.” 

He nodded again. He deserved at least that much. “I am. Absolute asshole, I know.” 

“But I never stopped loving you. Even though I was angry and sad and confused as fuck as to why you would do that to me, I still loved you. And eventually, I realized that it wasn’t anything I did wrong. You were scared. Of losing me, of me losing you. So you decided it was your responsibility to pull the ripcord before you crashed and burned.” Bradley winced slightly at the comparison and you grimaced at your own poor choice in words. “I—sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“It’s okay. You’re right. You didn’t deserve that.” 

“You said you didn’t want me to worry while you were gone, well, I did that anyways.” You chuckled, like you were remembering a fond memory instead of the constant state of anxiety you’d been in. “But instead of worrying that the man I love might not make it home, I was terrified that if you didn’t come home, I’d spend my whole life replaying our last conversation in my head. Wondering if there was something I could’ve said or done so you wouldn’t have given up on us so easily.” 

“You think that was easy for me? Sweetheart, walking away from you was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in my whole life.” 

“Sure seemed pretty easy.” You scoffed lightly, only a tad spiteful. A low blow, you realized, when Bradley stiffened for a split second, but you held steady. 

“It wasn’t.” His reply was immediate and firm as could be, but somehow, that didn’t make you feel any better. “You have to understand, breaking things off was the last thing I wanted to do. But I couldn’t—I thought that if I didn’t, you’d wait for me.” 

“I would’ve waited, Bradley! I did wait for you! For you, I'd wait forever because I love you, but you didn’t even give me that choice. You made the decision on your own instead of talking to me about it. That was what hurt the most.”  

“I’m sorry.” Bradley said quietly, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers laced through yours almost tentatively, feeling so familiar but so foreign at the same time. There was a point in your life where you never thought that concept would apply to Bradley. “I never should’ve left like that, I wish I could take it all back.” 

“I think I understand now why you did it. I understand that fear that comes with the experience of losing a loved one like that. But Bradley, you’re not responsible for my feelings. And I don’t care how scared you get, I’m not going anywhere. From now on, we work things out together, no matter what you think is best.” 

“From now on? Does that mean…?” 

“You’re my home, Bradley Bradshaw.”

Bradley took your face in his hands and he kissed you, long and hard, pouring every ounce of pent up feelings he’d been bottling up for the past seven months into it. Pain, fear, love, hope—all of it. You were never one to believe in such emotion being able to convey itself through a simple physical action, but now you could honestly say you understood it. 

Your hands spread across the broadness of his back, fingers pressing into the crisp starch of his uniform like you were afraid of letting him go , even though he was home and everything was okay now. Losing him the first time made you angry. You didn’t even want to imagine possibly losing him a second time. 

He drew back, only far enough to press his lips to your forehead, hands still holding you close as could be. “Thank you for coming.”

“I don’t make a habit of breaking my promises.” 

“C’mon, I wanna introduce you to the squad.” He said softly, lacing his fingers through yours. The way he all but bounded over to the group of aviators a little ways away was almost boyish, as was the excitement in his voice when he approached them. “Hey everyone, there’s someone I want you to meet.” Bradley announced, sliding a hand around to the small of your back. 

Everyone’s eyes turned on you, conversations petering to a gradual stop as they looked between you and Bradley. You shifted nervously, suddenly feeling unsure with all the attention on you, but Bradley’s thumb rubbed along your skin, soothing you just a bit. “This is Y/N. My girlfriend.” 

The tall blond reacted the quickest, snapping loudly before aiming a finger in your direction, along with a shiny smile. “Wait, I know you! You’re the one in that photo Rooster keeps tucked in his helmet. Lemme tell you, he looked at that picture every damn day, it was like—” 

Bradley let out a very forced laugh, aiming a not-so-subtle daggered glare at the other man. “Okay, Hangman! That’s okay, I really don’t think—” 

“You’re a real saint, taking this one back. If I ever pulled the shit he did, my car would’ve been keyed to all hell when I came home.” Hangman chuckled, giving his head a shake. 

“Hangman. Shut. Up.” 

“Don’t tell me to shut up, you shut up!” 

“You’re the only one talking!” 

“Alright, alright, you’re both grown men here,” The dark haired woman sighed, turning towards you. “At least, I hope so.” 

You chuckled at that, casting a glance over at Bradley to find him already looking back at you, the back and forth with Hangman already long forgotten given the way he was smiling at you, like you were the force that made the world go round. Taking you in under his arm, he dotted a kiss to your hairline as your fingers came up to intertwine with his again, watching you interact with his squad like you’d known them for years. 

It was everything he ever wanted. And now that he had it, he’d never be dumb enough to let it go again. 

His mind drifted back to his parents’ fate— how they never got to live out their life together. How there was no guarantee about anything when it came to Bradley’s own fate with you.

And sure, it was scary to be so uncertain about the future, but you’d both climb that hill together when the time came. For now, Bradley could let himself be content. This second chance at a life with you wasn’t one he was planning on taking lightly, not by a long shot. 

“Let’s get off this damn carrier and hit the town! Drinks at the Hard Deck, last one there buys the first round!” Hangman’s drawling voice drew Bradley out of his thoughts, just in time to let the words sink in.

You, on the other hand, stifled a giggle at the sight of seeing a group of full grown adults scatter as fast as Bradley’s friends did. Watching Hangman nearly shove Coyote to the ground upon seeing their cars were parked next to each other was something you’d never not get a kick out of. 

But Bradley, he didn’t seem as worried about it all. In fact, he walked leisurely with your hand firmly in his, swinging both of them between the two of you as you made your way to your own car. 

“Aren’t you worried you’ll be the last one there?” 

“I’ll buy the round, I don’t care.” He shrugged. “I wanna spend some time with my girl.” 

“Your girl.” You hummed, giving his hand a squeeze. “Gotta say, I’ve missed hearing that.” 

“I’ve missed saying it. We’ve got a lot to catch up on, honey. Starting with, do you or do you not have a voodoo doll made in my image that you stabbed with pins when I was away because I broke your heart?” 

You scoffed, letting out a not so attractive snort. “Bradley, I mean this in the most respectful way possible—what the hell are you talking about? Where would you even get that idea?”

“I—uh, I had a dream about it? A few weeks into deployment.” He admitted sheepishly, cheeks burning red in embarrassment. You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. “You don’t, right?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You replied, giving his chest a firm pat. You didn’t have a voodoo doll of him, of course, but playing along was worth it just to see Bradley squirm. 

“Wait, wait, wait, but you didn’t say no.” 

“I didn’t.” 

“So you do?” 

“I didn’t say that either. But if you’re not sure, I’d watch yourself the next couple weeks.” 

His brows furrowed in confusion and a bit of fear as he watched you walk away from him with some bounce to your step. “I…really don’t like the sound of that. Hang on, get back here. Explain, please!” 

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[kaitsawamura]

-> somebody come get her (she's dancing like a stripper)

-> SUMMARY

You have bills to pay. That's the only thing on your mind when you go in for your shift at the strip club. The only thing on your mind until you see Daichi.

Daichi doesn't expect to find you, the girl of his dreams, at the strip club. In fact, he's 99% certain he shouldn't be here. But now he can't stop thinking of all the things he'd let you do to him.

Will your mutual attraction pay off for the both of you?

-> STATS

Pairing: Daichi Sawamura x Stripper!Reader (get that bread!)

Rating: M for Mature, MDNI

Warnings: My take on a corruption kink except Daichi's the one getting corrupted

Tags: Corruption, strangers to lovers, smut I tell you, filthy filthy smut with my husband, strip club au, oral (m receiving), p in v, creampie, a bit of choking (like a tiny bit), hair pulling, nasty nasty f*cking with my husband, sex in public (sorta, it's in a public restroom), a little dominant confident Reader (if I missed anything y'all can let me know in the DM's)

Word Count: 6.3K

Author's Note: I knew the moment I saw Mint's post . : HERE : . that I had to write something about it. They obligingly gave me the go ahead to be inspired so off I went a-writing. Obviously, this might be considered mild corruption by some but to me? This was like I went into a blackout and woke up not knowing what year it was. So, here you go, enjoy some nasty filthy smut with my love!

-> LINKS

Main Masterlist

HQ Masterlist

Playlist

Moodboard

“Rent’s due on Monday,” your roommate reminds you, concern masked with sympathy clear on her face. She’s not trying to be mean or overbearing but damn it, the stress of the situation makes you want to snark back. But you don’t.

“Do you have your half?” She nods. You nod back decisively. “I’m working tonight. Fridays are good days to work. It’s my first one without shadowing anyone. I’ll have the rest of my half in tips, don’t worry.” Her face brightens as she pours herself a glass of orange juice, sunlight streaming in the kitchen window of the tiny two-bedroom apartment you share with her.

“Thank god. The landlord’s being an ass again. We’ve been late one time. I have half a mind to give him a list of all the things wrong in this shithole instead of the check.” You roll your eyes conspiratorially but in reality, you don’t know if you’ll make your half in tips or not. Maybe your boss will give you an advance. You’ll talk to him tonight. He was surprisingly reasonable so the odds were at least in your favor.

Either way, you’ll get the money. You just hope you’ll be able to put the nervous energy thrumming through your veins to good use.

Daichi Sawamura should not have come here tonight. The guys in the office had convinced him, said there was a new pretty girl who was exactly his type. But this place was not the sort he was used to coming to. It wasn’t that this establishment was a bad one or that he had any problem with it; people had to make money how they could. Empowerment and autonomy and all that. It was more that he felt a little inadequate if he was being completely honest with himself. He wouldn’t know what to do with someone from here. He was used to good girls, the ones who had a routine and didn’t like anything too kinky. Which was also fine. But there were things he wanted to try, had a suspicion he would like that he just couldn’t ask of anyone he���d been with. He scrubbed a hand over his face, realizing the conversation he was having completely in his head was stressing him out.

“Dai, bro, just relax. She’s pretty. You better tip her good but you don’t have to talk to anyone but me and the bartender if you don’t want to. Just enjoy the show.” Kuroo smirks at his friend; it has been a long week. It’s not like he doesn’t deserve to wind down. Part of him just wishes he was doing it in the comfort of his home, with his favorite ramen from around the corner and a good movie. But who knows, maybe he’s getting complacent.

So he sits in the seat Kuroo has pulled out for him, a front-row spot directly in the middle of the runway. Right in front of the center pole. The seats are comfortable and he’s got a whiskey neat in his hands. He can feel a little of the stress release from the muscles in his traps, can feel his jaw unclench just in the slightest as the first warm sip of whiskey flows down his throat.

This is fine, he reassures himself, pushing work from his brain. Kuroo takes a sip from his own drink, a fruity one that he insists is the most delicious ever but is just a little too sweet for Daichi. The place is in a lull right now, preparing for the next act. But soon there’s a growing murmur from the back. Someone whistles, and a few others catcall. Daichi bristles just a bit, but he can’t even see anything until you hit the steps and it’s then that Kuroo elbows him.

“That’s her,” he says, raising his voice so Daichi can hear over the now thrumming bass. He feels it in his toes, in his chest, in his head. But your steps, the bounce of your tits in a skimpy bright blue bikini top, he feels in his dick. It barely covers anything, just like the matching bottoms. Cute little bows keep them on your hips and your heels are a deep black. As you get closer, your walk slow and sensuous, he can see the peep toe and your fresh French manicure poking through. He tries to adjust his navy suit pants with little success. He’s in so much fucking trouble.

You strut up the steps, the blinking LED strips embedded into the floor blinking in rhythm with the bass and the rhythm of your hips. You put a little bit of extra attitude into the sway tonight, praying to any higher power that will listen that tonight will be a good one for tips, even though it’s your first show without any supporting performers. Part of you gets it; you’re new. The owner has to make sure you know how to use those doe eyes and amazing tits properly. The other part of you, the one that knows you’re hot and knows exactly what you’re doing, wanted to smirk a little when your boss had said you wouldn’t get a Friday on your own until you’d completed two weeks of bartending and shadowing.

Your hard work has paid off though, and when you take your place at the center of the runway, you know you have your audience hooked even before dancing. There’s one guy in particular, right below you. He got arguably the best seat in the house along with his friend. You’ve seen the friend before, all confidence, slicked-back black hair, and a steamy attractive smile. Your coworkers say he’s pretty regular and always tips well. Thank god. The one next to him though, you don’t know anything about him except for the fact that the five stages of something flow across his face as you make eye contact with him. The low lighting does nothing to hide the blush flushing from the open neck of his crisp white button up to his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose. He’s got a wad of cash already set casually on the bar top in front of him.

You smile, bright and unguarded, knowing. You’ll have the rest of Monday’s rent if he’s an indication of the rest of the customers that will be coming in tonight. He turns away, uncomfortable. Aw, how sweet. So unlike some of the slimy patrons you’re used to. Something you don’t like trips low in your belly. The biggest rule was no sex with any of the customers. It was in place for a reason and a majority of the time was a good one. You remind yourself of it as the song for your first dance starts playing over the speakers.

Buss it, buss it, buss it, buss it

Is you fuckin’? Two shots, fuck it

You take a deep breath, hands on the shiny silver pole, and wrap one leg around it. The metal is cold to the touch but something else has goosebumps crawling up your bare skin. When you spin, turning in the new guy’s direction, your suspicions are confirmed that the feeling is not the rest of the eyes on you but his. And his are suddenly, somehow, the only eyes you want to perform for. So you do.

Daichi can feel Kuroo snap to attention next to him; he can’t blame him. You’re stunning and you know it. You look like maybe you shouldn’t know how to do this so well, but none of that matters as all coherent thoughts leave Daichi’s head when you spin and drop, rolling your hips so your ass faces him. You turn and look at him as you rise slowly, a deliciously naughty smile still all over that pretty little mouth. He rushes to take a sip of his drink, drums his fingers on the bartop, runs them through his hair, anything to occupy his hands. Because he knows the only place they really should be is all over you. Oh, the things he would let you do to him. He’d do anything for you. He takes another gulp of whiskey, disappointed when he drains the heavy glass.

Oh, shit. Oh, shit. He knew you were making eye contact with him but when you get on all fours and crawl to him like some lethal jungle cat, the end of the song nearing, he knows he’s in for it. And he’s okay with that. Any doubts he had, about being here at least, have vanished completely. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him but he leans forward to meet you where you are at the edge of the stage. The crowd is roaring around him, the cheers only growing louder at the chemistry shooting like electricity through the air between the two of you. They’re jealous cheers he thinks, although he’s sure as hell not looking away long enough to check anyone’s expressions to confirm.

“Got anything good for me, pretty boy?” Your voice is pitched low as you blink big eyes at him, a smirk playing on your lips. Because, goddammit, he is pretty. Prettier than any other patrons you’d ever catered to. You would not mind if he came to be one of your regulars, regardless of any funds that might be exchanged. You would not mind if he came regularly—in your cunt, on your ass, on your tongue… A girl could take her pick with a man like him. Thick dark hair, glittering brown eyes, full lips. A barrel chest and wide shoulders to boot. No sex with the customers, no sex with the customers, no sex with the customers…

You watch, heat pooling low in your belly, as he unbinds the cash you had noticed earlier. You can’t quite figure him out. Because he’s making eye contact with you as he spreads the folded bills, licks his thumb, and pulls out two crisp Benjamins but there is a nervous tremor in his large hands as he passes the bills to you. Your eyes widen, the act dropping momentarily before you catch yourself and push out your bottom lip in a pout.

“Hm, a girl should get a little more than that for such a good performance, don’t you think?” You are completely used to this, the schpeel. You’ve done it thousands of times at the last place you worked and hundreds more at this club. It’s part of the persona within these walls. Mystery man is apparently not used to acting this way. You can see the war within him as you take the bills and he leans back, trying to be casual but every line of him is taught like a rubber band about to break.

“You here all night?” Don’t give anyone your schedule. If they like you enough, they’ll figure it out on their own by being a regular paying customer. You nod, liking this new game. Toeing around something you would normally consider dangerous, if only for all the variables far out of your control. But that makes it all the more fun, especially when he clicks his tongue behind his teeth and replies “Good, then so am I. I have more where that came from. Do you?”

Kuroo is watching the interaction with a gaping mouth. Daichi doesn’t have a clue where this new side of him is coming from. Except. Except he does. And it feels damn good. Despite being sure it is glaringly obvious that he is leaping so far out of his comfort zone, you seem to be very receptive. He shouldn’t be entertaining the idea of staying all night. He could use some sleep. But he could also use that mouth around his cock. You probably have rules, rules that should be followed, for your safety. Daichi knows he’s safe, but you don’t. He most definitely should not ask for your number or give you his or ask what time you’re off. You shouldn’t answer him.

But you do, nodding earnestly when he asks if you’ll be here all night. He has no choice. There’s something about you that he can’t shake off. The extra cash is of no consequence to him, and maybe, just maybe… No, he won’t let that thought go further. He won’t imagine how you’d look on your knees, or bouncing on his cock. He won’t imagine you writhing beneath him or securing him to his headboard with those cuffs he’d bought but never gotten to use. He won’t imagine you breathily calling him pretty boy again even though, fuck, he wishes you would so, so bad.

“What’s your name,” you ask before you can stop yourself, before you rise to your feet. The rules here are good ones, meant to keep both the patrons and performers safe.  You’d worked at other establishments before that didn’t care so much about safety so much as they cared about money.  Your radar has never been off in the past and maybe that shouldn’t be enough for you but everything about Mystery Man makes you want to break every rule ever set before you.  There’s something about him that makes you want to risk it all.  You want to hear him whimper and you’d place bets that you could get him to do it in record time.  Even now, his breathing is shallow and he seems unable to answer you.  His friend leans over, elbowing him into action.

“His name’s Daichi.  And mine’s Kuroo.  Ya know, in case you wanted to know.”  His smile is genuine, not creepy at all.  You return the grin as you stand before turning back to Daichi.  He straightens a little, snapped back to reality by his friend.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say to Kuroo.  He is attractive, just not who you have your eyes set on.  But it’s good information to pass along to your coworkers.  Judging by his tailored suit that fits just as good as Daichi’s, you’d wager his job pays like his friend’s.  The music swells again, the DJ cueing to your next song.  “Kuroo, make sure your friend doesn’t go anywhere.  Tonight’s for him.”  Kuroo scoffs in friendly disbelief at Daichi’s luck.

“I’m hauling you to the club more often,” he says to Daichi, who flashes a quick small smile.  Oh god, that smile could bring anyone you know to their knees.  It could certainly do it to you.  That smile alone could get you to do anything Daichi would ask.  You point at Kuroo as you take your place at the center pole again.

“I’m holding you to that, Kuroo.”  You brace your hands one over the other on the pole, and shake your ass for all it’s worth.

Body crazy, curvy, wavy, big titties, little waist.

Daichi’s going to have a stroke, he just knows it.  He can feel the veins in his forehead and neck bulging.  The blood has flowed elsewhere too.  His cock is so hard it feels painful.  There are several different ways he could get relief, most of which he should not be considering seeking in a public area.  But it’s unbearable and there’s no way he’s going to let himself come in front of all these other people.  He waits for the end of your current number and then he’s standing so fast his chair screeches out behind him; a couple of people look his way but for the most part, you’ve got everyone’s attention.  Kuroo glances sideways at his friend; he doesn’t say anything, just smirks as Daichi tosses another hundred on the bar top, telling Kuroo to give it to you before rushing to the bathroom.

He makes his way down the hall and notices there are several doors marked RESTROOM in bold capital letters.  Thank god there are single-person stalls.  He stumbles into one, shutting the door and locking it with shaking hands.  The music is still audible, even here; it seems to have dropped to a low steady hum.  Intermission.  Perfect.  Daichi turns to the sink and splashes cold water on his face, one last attempt to snap himself out of this fucking trance.  Because that’s what this has to be.  He’s getting all hot and bothered over someone who he doesn’t even know.  And god, he wants to think that you like him but he knows he’s tipping good and he’s not one of those creeps that can’t recognize it’s your fucking job.

The image in the mirror is one that almost shocks him; his eyes are glazed, and his hair’s a mess.  Just once, he just needs to come once and then he can stay here until the end of the night like he said he would.  He’ll tip you like a good customer would.  Then he’ll leave and he’ll never come back.  Because this?  This is Daichi out of control and he’s not sure that’s a good thing.  Maybe he should go back to making love to nice girls in his king-sized bed.  Yes, that’s what he’ll do.  He’ll leave here and he won’t come back and he’ll never think of you again.

Daichi unbuckles his belt, the metal of the buckle clanking as he yanks his zipper down.  He lets out a pained breath, his cock straining against his underwear.  He slips his hand into the elastic band, taking it into his hand and bringing it out into the air.  He backs up to the wall, the cool air offering little comfort for the engorged head, and closes his fist around himself.  A breath comes fast and heavy out of his mouth as he starts jacking himself off slowly, trying to make the moment last.

You watch as Daichi stands abruptly, so quickly and sharply that he almost topples his chair over.  You watch as he tosses another bill on the bar top, leaning in to say something to Kuroo.  You watch as he throws one last glance your way before beelining to the bathrooms.  Idiot.  Absolute idiot is what you are because you’re making your way off the runway, ignoring the audience as a low boo goes through the crowd.  Your boss catches your eye from the end of the bar and waves you over.

“What the hell is going on?”  It’s not said unkindly but more with an air of annoyance.  This is your first Friday night on your own and you might be blowing it.  But you don’t care.  You put on a fake wince and point at your head, trying to look as contrite and imploring as possible.

“I’m so sorry, I know it’s my first Friday and I’m so grateful.  But I’ve really gotta pee and I’ve got this horrible headache starting.  Can I take ten?  Just ten minutes, enough time for an ibuprofen to set in while I go to the bathroom, and then I’ll be back out.  Please.”  You put those big eyes back to use, blinking slow and tilting your head slightly like you’re trying to relieve the pain of your fake headache.  Your boss squints his eyes but doesn’t protest as he pulls a bottle of Advil from behind the bar.  He hands you a couple with a glass of water.

“Ten minutes.  Go to the bathroom.  Take a breather.  Then get your ass back out there.  I’ve seen the business you’re encouraging after two sets.  You’ll be back up there as one of my main performers if you keep up the good work.”  You smile as you throw the pills back with the water and hurry in the direction of the restroom, pulling on one of the extra robes from the bar.  Now to find Daichi.

A couple is making out in the hallway; you brush past them and knock quietly on the first door.  A voice answers quickly that the stall is occupied but it’s not Daichi’s voice.  You knock on two more doors before getting to the last one.  You suppose he could have gone into the multi-stall restroom but you’d seen the look on his face when he’d stood and you’d bet all the cash he’d given you so far that he wasn’t coming back here to take a piss.  You rap your knuckles on the last single-person stall.  You’re rewarded with his voice coming from the other side.

“There’s someone-ha-there’s someone in here!”  He can barely get the words out; you know what’s going on in that stall and you want to help.  You rub your thighs together, realizing you’re already getting wet.

“Daichi, it’s me.”  This is stupid.  Maybe he doesn’t even like you that much.  Maybe you’re just some stripper at a strip club.  There’s a heavy silence now, almost solid enough that you could cut it with a knife.  Another pause and you’re getting ready to leave, cursing your confidence for all that it’s getting you, but then you hear the click of the door unlocking.  He opens it but only just so.  Still, it’s an invitation and one you are eager to accept.  You open the door just wide enough to slip through to shield yourself from any potential wandering eyes in the hall.  The scene inside the stall nearly wrecks you.

Daichi has backed up against the wall, as far away from you as humanly possible.  It’s so obvious that he’s been jacking himself off. His hair is messy, his eyes wild like he was already on the brink. He’s desperately trying to cover his cock with his hands and even though they’re large, they can’t cover it completely. You meet his gaze, which he tries to avoid, his eyes fluttering left then right with shame, before finally settling on you. Something trips across your skin.

“Babe, let me help you with that,” you whisper as you direct your line of sight to his cock. It twitches as you move closer, slowly, as if you’re approaching a cornered animal. Daichi groans a little when you reach him, one hand steadying on his shoulder and the other reaching up to touch his face.

“This is—this is not what it looks like, I swear. I promise I’m not some creep, I just—” You put a single finger softly to his lips, making sure he’s got his eyes on you. They widen just a bit. In the brighter light of the bathroom, you can see how rich the color of his irises are, golden brown like sunlight streaming through an autumn wood, or espresso, or something corny like that. Fuck the rules.

“Daichi, can I kiss you?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. His mouth drops open but his eyes rove from yours down to your lips, then your covered chest, and back up. Finally, he nods so you guide his face down to yours and kiss him. His lips are soft and warm and pliable. He makes a little sound in the back of his throat, so unlike the image he’d put out walking in this place with his fine, tailored suit and stack of cash. Your hand slips from his shoulder and moves down the ridge of his pectoral, then lower still to the hard planes of his stomach. You trail your fingers over the now wrinkled fabric, close to his undone belt and open pants. His cock jumps against your abdomen past his hands and he gasps. “Is this okay?” You ask the question, certain that Daichi just needs the chance to give in. He nods again so you smooth your hand lower until it wraps around his cock.

Daichi’s head thunks against the wall of the bathroom as another sharp breath explodes from his open mouth. “Oh, fuck,” he growls quietly. You move your hand experimentally, softly, swiping your thumb across the head, gathering the bit of precome at the tip and smearing it about. You can’t decide what you want to look at more: the red bleeding over Daichi’s skin from the neck up, his heaving chest, or how his cock looks in your hands. He’s so… responsive. Each turn of your wrist has him shuddering beneath you. More. You need more. You want to see him beg. And part of you also realizes that he needs this too. You drop to your knees and his eyes snap back open as he watches you. “What’re you doing?”

“Only what you want me to do, Daichi. Unless you don’t want me to?” You don’t even finish your sentence before he’s shaking his head. He wraps his hand around yours, enveloping it, and moves it once, twice, over himself. A thought occurs to you, one you’re denying even as you ask him “Daichi, have you ever come down anyone’s throat?” The answer is obvious but you still feel incredulous as he tells you no. The veins in his hands are bulging and he’s still, like the calm before the storm. You lean in, maintaining eye contact, as you blow a breath over his cock. “Do you want to?”

It’s like you flipped a switch. Daichi, slowly now so you have time to pull away if you want to, curls his fingers in your hair, stroking them along your scalp. “Yes, please.” He whispers it, certain this is a dream. This has to be a fucking dream. He’s had a blow job before but never has he ever asked to come in someone’s mouth. He’s a clean guy but he’s not clueless; he just assumed most people thought it was gross and never had a problem with the fact that no one wanted to do that. At least not anyone he had been with. But, oh, he’d thought about it, lots of times. Most of those times in one night.

His pupils are blown wide as you lick your lips and take just the tip, swirling your tongue over the head. His skin is smooth, molten hot. The way your eyes never leave his is something else entirely and when you hollow out your cheeks and relax your throat to take all of him, he thinks he might die. He’s trying to maintain some semblance of control but it is already dwindling to nothing. There’s a coil building in his abdomen. Not yet he thinks viciously. Not yet. You take a few more pulls before releasing him with a pop. Frantic, he feels frantic. Maybe you decided you didn’t want to do this and he’d have to be okay with that, he couldn’t blame you but god damn—

“Daichi, eyes on me.” The man’s Adam’s apple bobs as he locks in on you again. “Let go, babe. Show me how you want it. Pull my hair. Set the pace. And when you’re gonna come, you come down my throat. Nowhere else, you got it? I’ve got five more minutes. Think we can get you there, pretty boy?” He nearly blacks out when you say those words he needed to hear again. Oh, yes, yes he’s sure you can. His eyes search yours once more before fisting his hand in your hair, tightening experimentally. You smile around his cock, deep-throating him once more, but waiting expectantly. He’s not going to come back from this. You’ve ruined anyone else for him. And he’s accepted his fate.

The moment he lets go, the moment he breaks down whatever wall is holding him in place, you can sense it. You place your hands on his thighs as he pulls you nearly all the way off before shoving you back down. Your eyes water just a bit but you feel the slick gather between your thighs. Yes, the girl inside of you that wants to see him to the end hisses. He sets the pace, a strong and quick one, but somehow still gentle. If you said you needed to stop now, you somehow know he’d do so immediately. He twists a little more, angling your head just how he wants it. You set your teeth down ever so lightly just to see….

Daichi whimpers and gasps, the sound nearly a sob on his lips. You swirl your tongue again and suck. “Ha—shit. Just. Just like that,” he grits out as he grips tighter. It hurts a little, your hair and your knees, but the pain swirls with the pleasure in a delicious slide of skin against skin. Your nails dig into his thighs again before he takes one of your hands and closes it around the base of his cock. You grip, working your wrist along with your mouth. He bucks against you, a jerky movement. “I’m close, fuckfuckfuck I’m close. I’m gonna come.” His voice lies somewhere between a bark and a whine. He can’t decide if he wants you closer, or farther, to stop or keep going. His brain is short-circuiting. He tries to pull back just a little bit, but you won’t let him in the best way possible.

You quirk your wrist and tilt your head in just a certain way… Daichi cries out, long and broken, as he curls in over you, his orgasm washing over him in waves so intense his vision goes black. His entire body shudders with his release, his form towering over you as he spurts ropes of come all the way down your throat. You milk him for all he’s worth. Not a single drop is getting away from you, no way in hell. Next time, you want him to come in your pussy. Next time? God, you want there to be a next time. He’s still leaning over you when his breathing slows and steadies; his hands are bracing themselves on your back rubbing soothing circles there with his thumbs. He helps you to your legs and steadies you for a moment.

The silence stretches on as you look at each other, both a little shocked at what just conspired. Daichi slowly puts himself back into his pants and you help him buckle his belt. You’re both on the verge of saying something either extremely brave or extremely stupid with each moment that passes. You’re about to make the first move again when he reaches up and takes your jaw in his hand, running a thumb along the corner of your mouth to gently push the last of his spend into your mouth. You lean into the touch and welcome his finger, sucking it clean just like his dick. He thinks he might be in love with you.

A breathless giggle comes out of you as you back away just a fraction, trying to give yourself space from the startling sensation fluttering in your stomach like butterflies. Your boss is gonna kick your ass if you don’t get back out on the floor. “I would invite you to my place to continue this after I’m off but it’s a little crowded and the walls are thin,” you say, hoping against hope that he wants more just as much as you do. There’s no room for doubt when he leans in and kisses you, deep and slow, tasting himself in your mouth.

“That’s no problem, princess. If you’re still feeling this when you’re off, I’ve got a penthouse all to myself.” Oh, there it is—the swagger you expected him to have. Your eyes glitter as you smooth out your hair, knowing it still looks good enough to perform. If anything, the smell of sex and the appearance of your swollen lips will get you better money, as long as your boss doesn’t catch on. You don’t think he will. “I’ll find you at the end of the night.” You nod, suddenly the bashful one.

Somehow, everything that just transpired did so all in your ten-minute break. In fact, you have one minute to spare as you strut back to the runway, giving your boss a wink and blowing a kiss to the stupefied audience.

“Harder, Daichi, harder.” You can barely get the words out as he thrusts inside of your aching cunt. Your face is pushed into the pillows on Daichi’s king-sized bed, your ass in the air. The sound of skin slapping on skin in the quiet of his room is pornographic but you can’t waste any thoughts on being even remotely embarrassed. Tears stream down your face as he continually hits that spot inside of you that you’ve only been able to hit with a dildo and even then it never came close to this. Daichi’s a machine, the way he keeps going. After you sucked him off and he came so quickly earlier in the night, he was determined to make this one last longer. One of his hands is gripping tightly into the plush of where your hip meets your ass cheek, the other is splayed over your back, even now caressing the skin, alighting it with goosebumps. “Oh, fuuuuuck,” you whine as that same hand snakes around to your neck to pull you up.

His fingers and palm ghost over the skin as he thrusts up into you and it’s all you can do to hold to his thighs for dear life, your nails digging in so hard you’ll know they’ll leave a mark. “Are you close, princess?” He whispers it labored into your ear, his breath hot, his mouth even hotter as he leans in to nip at your pulse point from behind. You nod frantically, almost unable to answer. “Can I come inside, baby? Will you let me? Will you let me be a good boy for you?” His hand moves from your throat to your clit, stroking one slow circle over the oversensitive nub. Thank god for birth control.

“Yes, Daichi, yes, come in my pussy. Oh, god, yes be a good boy for me.” You squeal as he thrusts hard, once, twice, swiping his fingers over your clit again in a more concentrated pattern and you feel your first orgasm of the night sweep over you as Daichi finds his own release with a mangled, animalistic groan.  You think he’s done, especially when he pulls out leaving you feeling way too empty.  But you’re wrong, so, so wrong.  He proceeds to flip you over and push back in, a ring of white forming around where he’s begun thrusting inside of you again.  

“I thought about this all fucking night.”  He surges up over you, grabbing your wrists and pulling them above you.  “I thought about that pretty little cunt around my cock.  I thought about how pretty you’d look laying in my bed.”  One thrust, slow and teasing.  You roll your hips up to meet him, even though your thighs are weak and shaking.  “I’ve never–I’ve never fucked anyone like this before, it’s,” he leans in to suck on your pulse again, runs his tongue over the salty skin there, “magical.”  You whimper beneath him when you feel the familiar coil tightening once more in your belly. ��

“Do you think I can make you come again, Daichi?  Can you come for me one more time?”  He groans, sealing his lips over yours as he releases your hands so that can pull him closer into you.  You scrape your nails from the nape of his neck into his hair, and grip, breathless, as his rhythm becomes choppy again.  God, you don’t know how he’s still going.  The two of you are so frenzied, the blood in your veins hotter than a blue flame.  “Look at me when you come, baby, look at me,” you whisper, bringing your hands to his cheeks.  His eyes are glazed, his face strained but still beautiful.  “I’m going to touch myself now, okay?”  His mouth pops open again as he nods, before watching as you wrap one arm around his shoulder and bring your other hand to your clit.  You swipe around his cock, collecting some of the mess you’ve both made there.  You know how to pleasure yourself and with Daichi’s expert stroke, it doesn’t take long before it snaps over you, the walls of your pussy squeezing around him forcing spend from him one more time.  It’s not as explosive as the first time but still enough that you can feel the wet leaking out onto his sheets.  “So good for me, Daichi, look how good you are for me,” you chant as you wring the last of the pleasure from each other.

When it’s over, he stills, pulling out of you and collapsing onto the bed beside you.  There’s a sheen of sweat covering you both.  The cool early morning air coming in Daichi’s open window creates the perfect juxtaposition of sensations.  He reaches over to trace patterns into your palm.  “Can I hold you?”  The question is so sweet, it makes you huff out a laugh.  The man just blew your back out and he asks if he can hold you.  But you are more than willing to oblige him so you roll into his open arm and lay your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.  You wait a moment before looking up at him, relishing the feeling of his fingers now tracing patterns into your arm and shoulder.

“Didn’t you mention something about handcuffs earlier?”  He looks down at you jerkily, a sheepish grin on his face.  You smile mischievously.  You’re going to ruin him.  He’s going to let you.  And he’s going to love it.

“Let me make you breakfast first, yeah?”  You nod and breathe in the smell of him, all sex and musk and expensive cologne.  Neither one of you knows where this is going to go but right now, it doesn’t matter.  You yawn and snuggle closer.

“Just so you know,” you intone sleepily, “I like French toast.”  He laughs softly, his own body relaxing into a lazy slumber.

“Hm, French toast?  I pinned you as a pancake kinda girl.  Good thing I also like French toast and always keep the supplies in to make it.”  His breathing is slow and shallow, matching the rhythm of yours.  The sun peeks over the cityscape around you as the two of you go under, cradled in each other’s arms.

This work and its digital elements (photo credit to photographer) are © Kait of @kaitsawamura 2024. Please do not alter or copy this work. Please do not repost this work to other platforms without my express permission.

[ghosthoodie]

heehee gay shit

[inkluvs]

OOH how bout xoxo - coryo or sejanus and what their love language is?

coryo’s love language to me is defo gifts <3 he just knows the feeling of getting something even if it’s not big that he can’t help but pick up a little treat for you on the way home and go all out for your birthday and remember that little thing you mentioned the next time he goes to the store. it goes the other way around w him too i think like maybe u draw something for him and he’s all blushy and sweet <3 it’s not just a materialistic thing for him i think he just likes the idea of seeing u in something and giving that thing to u as a little token or something x

sej’s love language to me is physical touch and words of affection <3 he just needs the constant reassurance that ur there and ur with him so he can’t help it but want to be touching u constantly <3 just a hand around ur waist or a pinky wrapped around yours or your head on his shoulder <3 also for words of affirmation i think he very rarely hears someone being genuinely nice to him so it’s just something he craves? u tell him u love him and it’s a common thing at this point but his cheeks still get a little pink and his lips twitch a little at the corners <3

[asoftepiloguemylove]

Keaton St. James boyhood // mid90s (2018) dir. Jonah Hill // Keaton St. James pretty boy // Kait Kerrigan & Bree Lowdermilk Miles to Go // แปลรักฉันด้วยใจเธอ I Told Sunset About You / I Promised You the Moon (2020-2021) dir. นฤเบศ กูโน Naruebet Kuno & Tossaphon Riantong // Keaton St. James

[stevebabey]

ruby hi!!! massive congrats on your milestone, i can't think of anyone more deserving of love than you my dear <33 i'm loving the sights and scenes of hawkins so far, may i request a trip down to lover's lake ❤️‍🔥 "i've had a terrible day at work so just kiss me" from list five with mr loverboy steve harrington? thank you so much love uu and congrats again!!

KAIT HI!!!!! i'm so glad ur enjoying hawkins m'dear and lover's lake with mr. steve harrington? that one's a dreamboat you're a lucky lady hehe <3 thank u thank u im literally giving u a big KISS rn ur so nice to me- i really hope u like this ! i manipulated the prompt a bit & omg accidentally used loverboy u got into my head this so is written for u

Robin's been keeping count of how many times Keith will ask Steve, in a single shift, to re-organise the front display due to inadequacy. That's the word Keith uses. Says it in that terrible drawl in his throat and with those lifeless eyes that don't seem to care when Steve's eye twitches after he's been asked for the third time.

Steve seriously thinks about kicking the entire display to shit.

He nearly does, just to stick it to Keith and permanently his cheeto-dusted fingertips and greasy mop for hair. God, Keith brings out the worst in him. Steve's honestly just stalling at this point, considering he's got about 15 minutes left of this shift. He busies his hands. Doesn't give the perpetually lurking Keith a chance to drag him into some other mindless job.

The 15 minutes crawl by. He's shrugging off his vest 2 mins out, specifically avoiding Keith's gaze as he maneuvers into the break room quickly.

"You're not finished yet, Harrington!" Keith's grating voice follows him in. Steve doesn't let it phase him, gathering his personal items from the employee room without a pause. He can sense Keith behind him in the doorway like a fucking vampire, some villainous presence hovering nearby.

"I could write you up for that, you know that." A crispy crunch. He's still snacking, even as he berates Steve in that bored tone; Steve wonders if today's the day to pick this fight with him. Really considers it. He ends up just clenching his jaw and watching the clock as it ticks over into sweet, sweet free time.

"Sure, Keith. Whatever you say." He grinds out, not even attempting pleasantries. There's a tight smile on his face but it might be a grimace for all Steve cares. He pushes past him and heads for the door.

"Hey Buckley," There it is again, that drawl that drives Steve nuts. "Can you check the front display? Undoubtedly, your Neanderthal friend will have found a way to mess it up and I'm not staying behind to fix it again."

Steve doesn't need to know what Neanderthal means to know when someone's calling him an idiot. He catches the start of Robin's furious glare, whipping towards her manager, but it disappears from view as he pushes out the door. Too hard. It slams against its hinges with a bang.

The steps rush up to meet his feet as he dashes down them. It's all muscle memory, opening the car door, turning the ignition, reversing out of the Family Video parking lot. The road gets swallowed beneath the car as he drives, a titch too fast than the speed limit warrants. Doesn't matter, Steve knows there's a remedy for his bad mood waiting at home.

You're in the kitchen when he gets in the door. He can tell from your shoes, left strewn halfway across the hall and outside the door to the kitchen, like you'd remembered to take them off at the last second. He toes them to the side with a small smile.

You must be in the middle of fixing a cup of something as there's something in your hand that tinks! gently, a teaspoon against porcelain.

Steve leans against the door frame and drinks his fill of love. Watching you be content as ever in his home, haloed in the setting sunlight through the windows, is a special sort of soothe on his soul. He's not sure he'll ever get used to it; or that he wants to.

Steve takes a breath in, thinks back to when you said love? well, love smells like your shampoo to me once, and thinks now that love must smell like the hot chocolate cradled in your hands. Love smells like you in the kitchen, waiting for him to come home.

You turn, catching sight of him. "Steve!"

His chest turns that bit lighter at your excited voice. He smiles and it comes easy. "Hi, sweetheart."

You cross the room to him, abandoning your steaming mug and Steve's arms are already open by the time you reach him. You slide up onto your toes, arms circling his neck, and you're pleasantly surprised when Steve ducks down and buries himself in your neck, his arms around your waist.

"Missed you," He mumbles and releases a sigh. His arms tighten, pulling you closer.

"Missed you too, Steve." You tell him truthfully, running your hand over the back of his head soothingly. You're like a balm to scorched skin, any fleeting bad feelings scampering at your reassuring touches. "Everything okay?"

Steve dredges his head out of his hiding place, staying close. His nose nuzzles against the length of your own, his eyes tired and affectionate.

"Mm." is the non-committal answer he gives you. He presses forward, lips seeking yours but you dodge them and give him a little frown.

"Everything okay?" You check, repeating the question. Steve can't be mad at your insistence, even though you're depriving him of kisses at the current moment. His thumb swipes along your ribcage impatiently.

"I've just... had a terrible day at work," he admits with a sigh. "So, just kiss me? Please."

And how could deny such a sweet request like that? Not when he sounds like your kisses could cure all his ails, could make any bad day a good one.

"Of course, loverboy," you breathe with a grin, eyes searching his face for the usual blush that arises at the pet name. He doesn't disappoint. Cheeks pink and lips even pinker, you tighten your arms around his neck and kiss him warmly. Steve gleefully tastes chocolate on your lips.

"Any time," you murmur when you pull back, and you mean it. Steve takes you up on that without a moment's hesitation.

join the celebration!

[randomlyblue]

Just casually losing it over the fact that the quote "All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red." perfectly captures the essence of The Secret History by Donna Tartt.

[kmackatie]

Oh it is such a tough choice but. Rock star AU? 👀

Okay so this one is because of @notsoangrybabsarts incredible rock star au art that I was lucky enough to see when it was in WIP stage. It fuelled a fire that I immediately stopped paying attention in a work meeting and banged out a couple hindered words of fic to go along with it. It’s been fun bouncing headcanons around with it, and I really do hope to get some of it to a polished point that I can share!

But for now, a little snip of one of the scenes that really could be about wizards but trust me that it’s musicians:

Essek holds his hand out, wiggling his fingers in invitation. Caleb looks at him for a long moment, trying to prase his intent before he relents, hand sliding into Essek's own. He just holds it for a moment, thumb brushing the back before he turns Caleb's palm over, finger tips drawing across the calloused fingertips and dry skin. The turn in the weather is always rough on Caleb's skin.

"It's going to be okay. Whatever happens, nomination or not, there will be other years. Other chances." As much as he wants to prove them all wrong and will be devastated if they aren't, he needs to say it, for Caleb's sake.

Caleb sighs, but says nothing, hand twitching in the physical tell of the words he's holding back by sheer force of will. Focusing down, Essek digs his thumb into the meat of Caleb's palm, his other hand coming to cradle it as Caleb bites off a groan, his fingers splaying out before curling slightly. Had Caleb really let it get this bad?

"You are so tense," murmurs Essek, mostly to himself. "Have you been stretching?"

[rowanswriting]

Eddie, who waits on you to get home from Christmas shopping, he’s laying under your tree on his side with a seductive look on his face and a bow tied around his dick and a Santa hat on his head.

[marshmallowprotection]

The deeper I've gotten into Ray's character the more I'd consider him the most dangerous (in my opinion; i know it's somewhat subjective). At least with Unknown and Suit you more or less know what you're getting into. Unknown smashes through a 14th story window and goes "youre coming with me even if i have to drag you kicking and screaming" and when Suit shows up the first time it's specifically to tell MC "hey your precious little prince is gone also i hate you so get used to it" (regardless of the validity of this statement). With Ray you don't think there's any need to fight him until it's too late. And even then, there's a good chance you still wouldn't want to--actually now that i think about isn't there a bit in his assistant ending where MC's like "hmm... i could run away... i mean he literally kidnapped me.... but he's so sad :( i don't wanna make him MORE sad."

Now, I can wholeheartedly agree with that. Now, they are all dangerous in their own way, that is an important fact we all should remember; however, the most dangerous threat to most people is the threat that is unassuming. A threat that doesn't even seem like a threat. Why would you suspect something when everything appears to be fine on the surface?

A wolf in sheep's clothing, if you will. It's only a threat when it becomes one. He's only dangerous when he's hungry. It's hard for people to imagine fighting him given the fact it's easy to empathize and want better for him when he's miserable. You feel bad for him even if you don't like him the way he likes you. He's either going to wear you down over time or you're just going to feel so bad for him that you don't see a purpose in fighting him.

One way or another, he's going to come out on top. That's partially why I find him so compelling in the first place because his deception takes him far, and his honesty in other ways makes you question just how malicious his intent could really be. The way he is around you would make you feel as though there is a reason to question the RFA. For example, when you get his route for the first time, V literally elicited a panic attack for Ray!

Why should you believe anything he says when Ray is literally in the midst of hyperventilating in fear. It doesn't make any sense to trust the RFA when you see that happen. It's not the instances alone where you pity or sympathize with him that are cause for a case of concern. That's why his true danger level is as high as it is... You don't know what you're getting until you're already chest deep in the pool.

Versus

[sunshineting]

this is my first ever fic 🥹 so um yeah

plug!eren x nerdy!chubby!reader

word count- 1686

summary- you're a stressed college kid that just needs to relax

MINORS DNI please‼️‼️

“Oh jeez… I hope he makes this easy,” you muttered to yourself. You were stressed. Stressed as hell. Studying for midterms was whooping your ass and all you needed was a little green to help you relax. Your friend, Sasha, had given you the number to her on-campus plug. She gave you the slight warning that he was a bit intense, but reliable. You finally grew some balls and texted the ominous number.

‘Is this Eren?’ You were always nervous talking to plugs. Your slightly timid nature always made them think you were a narc or something. Nope. Just good old social anxiety. Your phone’s ding took you by surprise; he responded fast. He simply responded with a question mark.

‘Sorry. Sasha gave me your number. I was hoping to buy from you’

After a few more text exchanges, you had agreed to meet him at his apartment to pick up.

“Apartment 913… where the hell…?” On your third time circling his complex, you finally found it. Three quick knocks on the door later, you were face to face with a man’s collarbone. You look up and are met with intense, deep green eyes.

Oh no, he’s hot. You push your glasses back up your nose and introduce yourself.

“H-hi, I’m Y/N. I was texting you earlier?”

A sly grin creeps onto Eren’s face.

“Wassup?” He flicks his head to gesture for you to follow him inside. His apartment smelled like weed and the musk of generic ‘male’ scented candles. There were LED strip lights just about everywhere, giving the place a blue tint. Adding to the blue tint was a huge fish tank with all types of exotic and expensive looking fish. Following his lead, you took a seat on the couch. You didn’t want to make yourself too comfortable, so you sat on the edge.

“You could get comfortable, lil mama. I don’t bite,” Eren says with a smirk. You barely moved. Between him being a plug and him being hot, your awkwardness levels were through the roof.

“So whatchu tryna get? A gram, a three five, a zip? You look like you like edibles,” Eren lists off his products.

“You think I like edibles cuz I’m chubby?” You mumble. He chuckles.

“Nah, I just can’t imagine your lil innocent ass smoking.” A small pout forms on your face as you let out a ‘hmph’.

“How much is a three five? I have cash,” you say, trying to get back to business. He tells you it’s twenty, but only because you’re cute. You felt heat rush to your face at the compliment. After your transaction, Eren offers to smoke you out.

“Oh, you don’t have to. I just bought some.”

“You’re turning down free weed?” He deadpans. You purse your lips.

“…no.”

Watching Eren handle weed was unreasonably sexy. The way his big hands gently packed the blunt was mesmerizing. He’d put his long hair into a bun just prior to the process. Hell, even that was sexy. The t-shirt he wore exposed each flex of his muscles as he expertly tied his locks up. You just about combusted when he was licking the backwood. The flicks of his tongue on the paper sent electricity straight to your clit. Were you imagining it, or was he purposely licking it as lewdly as possible? You felt wetness pool in your panties.

“I never really smoke blunts,” you confess.

“Oh? What do you use then?”

“It’s this little glass bowl I got in high school. It’s small but it gets the job done.” You smile. You could feel yourself getting more comfortable bit by bit. Eren sparked up the blunt and took a long hit. He exhaled smoothly and passed it to you. You took a small pull and the sour smoke filled your mouth. You tried to fully inhale, but the sourness of the tobacco and the strength of the smoke was too much. Choking and coughing, you hand the damned thing back to Eren. Yep, there was a reason you stuck to your bowl. Despite not getting too much, you were just starting to feel the relaxing effects.

“C’mere” Eren waved for you to come closer to him. Your inhibitions were lowered and you didn’t give yourself time to overthink. You scooched closer to him, but he pulled you impossibly closer. He had you pressed up against him; his warmth igniting every cell in your body.

“Open your mouth,” he commanded softly. You didn’t even have time to think, you just obeyed. Eren took a smaller hit than his last and pulled your face directly in front of his. Your lips were just barely touching when he blew his smoke into your awaiting mouth.

“Th-thank you,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. You were trying your damnedest not to moan. It’s been so long since you’d been fucked. Your vibrator was nothing compared to the real thing and holy shit was Eren real. Eren glances down at your lips and licks his own. He was unbelievably hard. From the moment he saw you at his door, he knew he had to have you. Call it a corruption kink or whatever, but he just wanted to ruin that innocent look you had.

“You want more?”

“Mmhm,” you whimper. You squeeze your legs together just to get any type of relief for your swollen clit. Your little pussy is weeping, clenching around nothing as he blows more smoke in your mouth. You continue this until most of the way through the blunt, then you tap out. You were very much high and the cottonmouth was setting in.

“Could I have some water please?” You ask your host. As he stands, you see a very obvious print in his basketball shorts. While he gets the water, you take the time to stare at his fish tank.

“It’s like Finding Nemo in this bitch,” you breathe out. Time was feeling wonky as Eren returned with your water. It felt like forever and only a moment all at the same time.

“Thank you!” You say before your first sip.

“So polite… What a good girl. Are you always this sweet?” Eren asks. You nod.

“Yeah? You wanna be my good girl?” He questions as a hand begins to rub your thigh.

“Mmhm” you let out a breathy moan. With that, Eren picks you up and pulls you onto his lap as if you weigh nothing. His big hands grip both sides of your waist as he grinds you onto him. Your loose dress has been pulled up and pools around your thighs. Even clothed, you can feel his hard length pressing up against you.

“Let’s take this off,” he guides as he pulls off your cardigan. The removal of your cardigan causes the thin straps of your dress to fall off your shoulders. You felt like a mess and he hadn’t even fucked you yet. Eren decides to finally kiss you and pulls your mouth to his. He was devouring you. Immediately he fills mouth with his tongue. It was the sexiest, sloppiest kiss you’d ever had. Your needy little cunt is aching for relief. It’s practically hurting. Your full tits were pressed up against his chest and he could feel your nipples poking him. Eren uses one hand to start rubbing your clit through your panties. You’re so grateful for the relief, it feels like you’re melting into him.

“Damn lil mama you got a super soaker down there. That’s all for me?” Eren chuckles. You only give a whimper in response. You were so embarrassed at how easily you’re folding for this man.

“You want me to fuck this little pussy? Hm?” He groans.

“Mmhm,” you nod and whimper.

“Use your words”

“Please fuck me! Please, please I need it,” you beg. Eren could feel the precum leaking from his tip. His dick was so hard it hurt. You stand for a bit to discard your dress, leaving you only in your teddy bear print panties. He’d taken this time to remove his own clothes and you could finally see the huge cock that you’d been grinding on. Holy shit, he’s big. His cock is thick and pretty, with the tip a dark rosy pink. Your mouth began to water. You want to suck it, but Eren has other plans.

“Come sit on this dick, pretty.”

You quickly oblige. Eren revels in how warm and soft your thick thighs are. As you sink down on him, both of you are surprised. Him, at how tight and wet you are. And you, at how fucking deep he’s going. You can feel every inch and the delicious stretch of him filling you up. He’s so thick, your walls have him in a chokehold.

“Fuck, it’s so big,” you moan. Eren can’t even think of a cocky response. All his concentration is going toward not cumming. It was bad enough the two of you didn’t use a condom but the last thing y’all needed was a pregnancy scare.

You start riding him, bouncing up and down trying to maintain a good rhythm. With one hand gripping your waist, he takes the other and rubs circles on your clit. The extra stimulation has you falling apart. You can feel your orgasm building higher and higher. Eren feels your walls tighten ever more and can tell you’re just about to go over the edge.

“Cum for me. Give it all to me. Cum on this cock, baby,” he damn near growls in your ear. The permission to cum finally sends you over the edge; wave after wave of sweet release relaxing your tense muscles. Feeling your squishy walls flutter from cumming sends Eren over the edge, too. He lifts you off his cock just as ropes of thick cum spurts out of him. You’d left a ring of cream around the base of his shaft. As you sit back on his lap, Eren says, “Don’t get your weed from anybody else ever again, you hear me? Next time you need anything – weed or dick – you hit me up. I’m serious.”

[katsu28]

"send ☕ along with a prompt from any one of the lists below and a character of your choosing, and i'll write you a one shot to satisfy your craving!"

☕: prompt 23 from list e for rafe!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

it pains me to paint my pogues in a not so great light but i will forever love protective rafe <3 thank you for requesting!

rafe cameron x reader, minimal swearing, 1.9k

“Look who it is! The Princess Kook, slummin’ it on our side of the island for once.” 

Your grip tightened around the pack of beer you were holding at the voice coming from behind you, because you already knew who it was. There was only one person ballsy enough to speak so critically of you, and you were pretty damn sure he was standing right behind you.

Lo and behold there he was, flanked by a more bored looking John B. 

JJ Maybank was and always had been on your case, though you suspected it had more to do with your family name than with you yourself—always spouting off about money and wealth and eating the rich. You understood where he was coming from, of course, but that didn’t mean it stopped being irritating.

It just seemed like he was always riding you about being some little rich girl with daddy’s money, not an actual person, with actual feelings. But after a while, you’d grown used to it. JJ was all bark and no bite. 

“Hi, JJ.” You sighed, shifting your weight to one leg. You nodded at John B, who did the same back to you. “How’s it going?” 

“Didn’t know our booze was good enough for Her Majesty’s taste.” JJ sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. You rolled your eyes at his dig. “Rafe know you’re over here?” 

“He’s not my keeper.” 

“What’re you even doing here, Y/N? They don’t got beer on Figure Eight?” John B sounded a little bit nicer, more tired than bitchy like his blond friend. 

“Cheaper here.” 

“Like you don’t have enough fuckin’ money.” JJ scoffed. John B jabbed a sharp elbow into his side, a sign for him to shut up. 

“Look guys, I’m not looking for any trouble. I just wanna get some beer and go home, that’s it.” 

“How ‘bout you leave the beer here and run back to your little princess castle instead?” 

“You’re a real prick tonight, JJ. Something got your panties all up in a bunch?” You shouldn’t have snarked back, that you knew, but he was really getting on your nerves tonight. You weren’t sure why. His words usually just slid right off you. 

JJ’s expression darkened and he scowled, brows furrowing. “Maybe ‘cause I just got fired from the Club this morning.” 

“What, why?” You asked, surprised. It was a genuine question. JJ was a definite pain in your ass, maybe with an attitude problem but still a good employee. 

“Oh, drop the clueless act. Pretty sure it was one of your stuck up friends who complained.” 

“I’m sorry you got fired, JJ, I am, but I had nothing to do with it. And there’s nothing I can do about it either. I don’t have that kind of pull with anyone at the Club, neither does my family.” 

You figured it would be better if you left now before JJ came up with another retort, or you'd likely be here trading snippy insults with each other all night, and you had better things to do with your time. There was some sympathy in you for him, but your statement was still true. There was nothing you could do for him, even if you wanted to. And besides, Rafe was waiting on you for a movie night. 

Leaving the conversation and the beer you were supposed to get behind, you hurried back to your car. The quicker you got to Rafe’s place, the quicker you could forget about it. 

Only a couple minutes into the drive, headlights flashed in your mirror. No big deal, probably just someone heading the same way as you. You were on the main road to the other side of the island, after all. 

Then the car sped up a bit, coming dangerously close to your back bumper before retreating a sizable distance behind—once, twice. By the third time, you were starting to get a little pissed. 

“What the fuck?” You muttered, squinting to get a better look at it. A big camper van, old from what you make out in the darkness, faded orange—oh fuck. You knew that van, John B’s old clunker of a car. And if you squinted a little harder, you could almost make out the same blond head of hair that was antagonizing you back at the store. 

So JJ did have a little bite in him. You sure as hell weren’t going to stick around to find out. 

Stepping on the gas a little harder, you took the long way back to the Figure 8, weaving through the backroads you’d known like the back of your hand since before you were able to drive. Back then, you’d done it on your bike, peals of laughter echoing through the overgrown fields of the Cut turned clean lines of pristinely cut lawns the closer you got to home, as Rafe chased after you on his own. 

Still, the van followed you on your way. With every glance at it in the rearview mirror, you grew a little more worried.

JJ’s driving was erratic, like he was playing a game of cat and mouse with you. If he really wanted to hurt you, this would be the ideal place to do it. There was nothing but grass and weeds around here. Nobody would find you for hours, even days if he were to run you into a ditch or something. 

That thought alone spurred you to drive even faster, driving and driving until you took one more look in the mirror to see that the van had stopped. You watched the headlights grow smaller in the distance, forcing yourself to keep driving until you got to safety—to Rafe. 

You screeched to a stop in front of Rafe’s townhouse, barely giving a backwards glance to see if they were really gone before hurrying the rest of the way to the front door. Hands trembling, you balled them both into fists, raising one to knock as loudly as you could. You could barely hear the thud of your fist on the wood over your thundering heart. 

The door opened in an instant, Rafe’s smiling face greeting you. It quickly faded when he took in your wide eyes, your hard breathing. He pulled you inside immediately, sliding the locks home behind you before gathering you into his arms. “What happened?”

You explained as quick as you could, but the adrenaline from the whole thing was starting to die down. Your previous thoughts were starting to seem silly at this point. JJ was a hothead, but you didn't think he’d go so far as to take out his anger on you. He was probably just trying to scare you, nothing more, nothing less. 

Rafe, on the other hand, was livid. 

“Did they hurt you?” He asked, voice dangerously low. His eyes searched you for any visible injuries, hands sliding over your body with the utmost care, a stark contrast to the storm creeping into his beautiful blue eyes. “I swear to god if those punks even laid a finger on you—” 

“No, no, they didn’t hurt me, Rafe. I’m okay now, I promise. Just a little shaken up is all.” You assured him, stopping his search by lacing your fingers through his. He still looked unsure. “I’m fine, baby. Honest.” 

Rafe’s brows furrowed long and hard, and you reached up, attempting to smooth out the deep wrinkle between them with your thumb. 

You traced above one of them, trailing down over the skin under it before letting your palm settle against his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut for a split second as he leaned more into your touch. The wrinkle disappeared. 

“Okay. But you’re not going home tonight. You’re gonna stay here, with me, and I’m gonna have a talk with my sister in the morning, okay?” He was calmer now, you could tell. The sharp edge to his voice was gone, his shoulders relaxed the more you stroked along his skin. You nodded, satisfied. “Can I make you something? Tea? A snack? I’ve got those cheese puffs you’re so obsessed with, though I don’t really see how good—” 

“Rafe,” You chided, smiling warmly, “You don’t have to dote on me. I’m fine.” 

“I know. My girl’s strong.” He murmured, turning his head to press a kiss to the soft skin of your palm. “Just had me worried for a bit, that’s all.” 

You kissed him, short and sweet, before tugging him towards the living room. Your gaze landed on the snacks he’d laid out on the coffee table first, drifting to the heaps of blankets and pillows on the couch right after.

Everything was already set up perfectly, and with all that had happened in just the past hour, sent a warmth flooding through your body, a sense of safe and love and home that you only ever felt when you were with Rafe. 

Rafe suddenly looked bashful, scratching the back of his neck with an embarrassed grin at the way you were looking at him. “What? I was excited to see you.” 

“You saw me yesterday, Rafe.” You chided lightly, completely failing at a stern look in favor of something much fonder. 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t miss you.” 

“Rafe Cameron, are you going soft on me?” You hummed, settling onto the couch. Rafe threw himself down next to you with a nonchalant shrug, resting an idle hand on your knee when you threw your legs across his thighs, but the answer was a resounding yes.

Yes, he was soft for you. Yes, he loved you more than he loved anything and anyone in this world. 

He knew it, you knew it, and that was what prompted him to speak his next words. 

“Y’know, I’ve been thinking.” 

“Uh oh.” You snickered, drawing a roll of his eyes with a lopsided smile. 

“Hilarious. Anyways, um, what would—I mean, what’re your thoughts about maybe…moving in with me?” 

“Here?” Maybe you sounded a bit more skeptical than you meant to, because Rafe quickly backtracked, sitting up straight. 

“Doesn’t have to be here. We could get a new place, if you want.” He replied, shaking his head. “Top’s uncle works in real estate, I could probably get him to show us some places within the next couple of days—”

“No.” 

Rafe’s expression crumpled. “No? No, as in no, you don’t want to live together?” 

You amended your rather blunt statement with a hand placed over his. “No, as in no, I don’t want to get a new place. I wanna live here. With you.” 

“You do?” 

“Don’t look so surprised, Cameron, your place is way nicer than mine.” You teased. Clearly amused, he scoffed, giving your calf a playful pinch. 

“That the only reason?” 

“‘Course not. I’m also looking forward to that fancy shower head in your bathroom.” 

Rafe snorted, pulling you close against him, pressing his forehead against yours. He looked a bit funny like this, nearly bug-eyed because of your close proximity, but you thought he’d never looked cuter. “And me?” 

You peppered kisses to his cheeks, chin, nose, the corners of his mouth in lieu of an answer, loud and over dramatic and definitely obnoxious, but it made him laugh. Then you kissed him right where he wanted, firm and loving against his lips to say yes, always you, and he smiled. 

Moving in with Rafe meant getting to hear your favorite laugh, see your favorite smile, every single day waking up next to him. You hoped you’d get to experience it for the rest of your life, starting now. 

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[kaitsawamura]

THAT'S JUST WASTELAND, BABY

☽ SUMMARY ☾

Calamity Ganon has finally been vanquished for good, Link and Zelda have finally managed to break the wheel. But things are not as either of them had hoped they would be. Zelda is soon to be Queen with all the duties of such a position. Link would remain her knight and yet, he is restless. When he hears of the restoration efforts in Lurelin Village, he decides that he must go. He can’t stay cooped up within the castle walls, not after so long in the wild. Zelda and Link are unsure of the new direction their lives are taking but maybe they’ll find that their true north is you.

THIS SCROLL WAS LAST UPDATED: 1/23/24

☽ STATS ☾

Pairing: TotK!Link x Reader x TotK!Zelda

Rating: M for Mature, 18+ only minors do not interact

Warnings: Fantasy violence/gore, sexual content, angst

Tags: aged up characters, multiple pov’s (maybe possibly kinda), friends to lovers, semi-slice of life, semi-canon divergent, h/c (more to be added)

Projected Word Count: 15K

Author's Note: I have been tossing around a Link x Reader fic FOREVER but it felt right as soon as I started writing and the idea naturally morphed into a poly fic. I know I've been telling myself not to post any parts of a multi part fic until I've written the whole thing but ya know what, I need some dopamine and maybe y'all do to so I'll be posting the parts/chapters as I write them. Hope you enjoy (and even if you don't, that's fine too because mostly my fics are for me XD)

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☽ TABLE OF CONTENTS ☾

Prologue

Part 1 (TBW)

[ghosthoodie]

The fact that Kaity was an academic really boggled Sicily's mind. The fact that she could even put up with doing assignments, and sometimes even sought them out for fun, drove her mad. She's so fucking intelligent that for her, what Sicily drudged through is like skipping through a park on a sunny day. It'd piss her off, if Kaity didn't use this magical power to her advantage, and if she didn't wear the prettiest smile while doing it.

She got lost in her brain watching Kaity wiggling around in her seat, typing something on her laptop in their kitchen. She's dressed very casually, wearing some black leggings and what she thinks is one of her T-shirts... She's wearing a focused expression on her face, proven by the little fang that pokes her lip... She's working on something. Sicily's curiosity perks just at the sight of it. She can't let her and her little fang sit alone like that.

"Hey sugarplum, what are you up to?" She says, the legs of the wooden stool squeaking on the floor as she sits down next to her. She catches a glimpse of her screen, which is full of lines of text in a Squoogle document. Her eyes practically glaze over.

Kaity giggles at the nickname, bashfully playing with the end of one her tentacles. "I'm applying to college..." She laughs. "Again. Graduate school."

Sicily's jaw drops. "Why the hell would you do that? Don't you already have a degree?"

"I'm curious about how you inklings get educated." Her tapered finger pokes Sicily's nose. "And also, don't you think it'd give me a better chance at a good job if I'm educated in the inkling world?"

"Don't you already have that good apprenticeship with Sheldon? Why in the world would you want to go back to school?"

"I already told you, sugarplum." She smirks.

Sicily scoffs, her face slightly flushed. "I dropped out of college for a reason...and it was art college. Not even any of that incomprehensible STEM stuff you're into."

"You dropped out of college because you were dedicated to being the amazing Agent 3. Now we're girlfriends. We don't have to worry about any of that war stuff. Plus, Ammo Knights has the benefits that make my tuition almost completely free." She shrugs. "Flexible hours, too."

"That's...fucking..." Sicily's hands claw her own face in stress. "What are you even applying for? Master's in Engineering?"

"Ya." She flicks one of her short tentacles. It bounces back in a way Sicily finds adorable. "What, are smart women not your type?"

"Kaity...!" Sicily whines, leaning into Kaity and grasping her T-shirt dramatically. "You are so fucking hot but I just don't understand why you would do this...! Why does your brain work the way it does?!"

She rolls her eyes, and lifts her bangs to quickly kiss her forehead. "You're a weirdo. Can you check my grammar for this excerpt really quick?"

[deityofhearts]

I collect a lot of stationary for someone who has no reason to use all this stationary