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bunnylove1 · 3 months

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.•His star•.

•.~Valentino x pornstar!reader

•.~WARNINGS: semi smut if you can even call it that, borderline toxicity, cuss words, small mentions of angsty stuff, fluff, mentions of blood and bruising a couple of times, and lastly Val being a dick head as always

•.~Love Val and thought this would be a fun idea!

Clips videos films photos shows, You were popular to the eyes and body’s of the male and female sinners, You didn’t mind all the attention it was your job, it kept you warm at night in a nice room at a somewhat nice apartment …, it wasn’t dirty, but it was sure busy and loud with other sinners making there print in the building

You worked for Valentino for about a year now , he was a hot headed bipolar mess but he treated you…different from his other employees, he was nicer more sweeter, gave you gifts often, he’d even reward you after shoots with a nice dinner, he’d call you whenever he was pissed, he’d have you sit on his lap and calm him down. He thought you were “The best at calming people down” it was true

The studio had tons of pornstars that would have panic attacks before and after shoots no matter if they were big or small and if they were violent or not, You were always the one to calm them down, you’ve seen some tuff shit at the studio but it was better then the streets.

Val sent you a text it read “Good morning cariño you’ve got along day a head of ya princess be prepared” knowing Val he was gonna have you working until your body gave out on him and you had to grab onto him to support yourself. You put your phone down not replying to him and just started to get ready, you never got all dressed up knowing that the studio would do that for you, the studio always had you dolled up just to get the makeup ruined and the clothes torn off

Putting your black sweats on with a regular white tank with a jacket that had your star name on it, it was a gift from Val. You headed your way to the studio, but not without making it past a couple of cat callers, you finally made it. Opening the doors of the studio you were hit with the smell of cheap alcohol and expensive sex, walking to your room at the studio setting your stuff down by your vanity, Val opened your door “Cariño! How lovely of you to make it” he said slinging his bottom arms on his hips letting his other set be crossed under his chest. “Hi val, what do you have planned for me today?” You sat down at the end of your silk bed, the moth took a long drag of his cigarette letting the pink smoke hit your face “You’ve got a shoot at 1, and another at 3, with a film shoot at 4, and another shoot with some guys at 10” you huffed at the sound of a long day.

“Don’t huff at me. You wanted this” he said turning his back away from you looking at your already exhausted face in the big mirror that was faced to your bed. You mumbled some shit under your breath ‘right cause I sooooo wanted my holes to be filled with random peoples cum’ you went to get up and start the long day, “What was that cariño?” You twitched an eye “Nothing sir just ready to start my day” you gave him a painted on smile “Good let’s go the staff is waiting with makeup and an outfit” he said putting a hand on your back guiding you to the place you already know your way too

After the staff had done your make up they gave you a shiny leather body suit with black shiny thighed boots and a chocker they gave you a few props as well as a gag with a white gag ball, a leash and some rope. “Perfect cariño, just like that, I couldn’t just eat you out~, don’t fucking move, perfect darling keeping being a good girl for me, I didn’t tell you to stop posing!” Val yells sitting from his Director chair his legs crossed and his hand under his chin.

After a long 2 shoots it was finally time for your film, Val told you what it was about, you must play a dumb girl who’s acted out while your partner played a dominate man who teaches you a lesson, how ‘fun’ you thought. Getting into position the film had started to roll, you were already done with the acting role play part and it was time for the actual thing. Your partner grabbed your hips and pulled you close stoping your face an inch away from his, he tightened his grip on you hips, this made you wince, he started to kiss you going down your neck bitting you, he hit a nerve while doing so causing you to jump back and wince at the blood that was dripping down your chest

“HEY! CUT, CUT, CUT THE FUCKIN CAMERAS!” he said spitting pink spit out of his mouth motioning to stop the film, he stomped over and pulled you to his side with one of his arms and having another over your fresh wound causing you to flinch at the pressure he put on it, “What the FUCK is wrong with you, I SPECIFICALLY told you not to make her bleed! Get. Off. This. Set. NOW!” He had this one rule with you that you were to never have wounds caused in films, he didn’t care if the others did but he didn’t want you to bleed or have bruises by these partners of yours, he was very pacific with that rule and told everyone of your partners, Val yelled at the actor and pushed him out of his Sight, “cariño, are you okay, let’s get you cleaned up yeah”. Val looked down at you, you went to go walk but your legs felt like jello, Val noticed and picked you up carrying your bridle style to his room your eyes felt heavy very heavy “it’s been a long day cariño~ take a rest” he stated petting your soft hair, you did as he said and rested your eyes

Once you smelt the sweet linger of smoke you could tell you were in Vals room, your eyes fluttered, taking in the pinks and purples and the smell of smoke, once you could halfway tell your surroundings you sat up, you noticed you were placed on Vals bed and that he wasn’t there, “Val….” You spoke your voice soft with a sleepy drag.

“cariño, your awake” Val stated sitting on his couch smoking his cigarette. He got up and put is cigarette out walking over to you, he placed a hand on your cheek caressing it, his touch was warm and his hands were soft, you almost forgot what happened in the studio. But not for long till the dickhead poked your wound. “OW VAL YOU FUCK” you jumped now fully awake smacking his hand away from the bit.

“Sorry cariño, I just need to look at it” he looked down at you his voice sweet, “looking at it, you mean by poking the shit out of it?” He chuckled “sweetheart just sit still baby~” he let the last word out smoothly like he was soothing your tense body trying to seduce it, you did as he said. You sat at the end of the bed facing him letting him take the bandages off and grabbing some type of oil, “what’s that” you looked up at him “well my curious conejita, it’s just a healing oil, till help the wound heal faster” he opened the oil putting the cap in his other hand and put some on the wound “SHIT VAL THAT BURNS!” You jumped back “stay still conejita, or else I’ll make it hurt worse” His words were stern as he gripped your shoulder tightly, your eyes light up and looked somewhat scared, you could feel them start to water.

I don’t blame you, your in a vulnerable state and your wound didn’t make it better, why wouldn’t you start to cry especially after he just put I mild threat towards you, “conejita, I didn’t mean it” he sighed sitting at the side of you now, he grabbed your side and put you on his lap, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck still sniffling some cry’s. “Shhhh conejita it’s okay, I’m sorry mi estrella, I didn’t mean to get so disgusting towards you” he patted your back leaving soothing circles as he went up and down, he had his other hand on your head petting your hair.

“It’s *sniffle* okay” he frowned at your sweet cry’s. His expressions turns into a smile “how about I treat you mi estrella how about a nice warm bath with me?” You ears pricked up and your slaty tears gone but still a residue left on your sweet face “that would be nice” he smiled and cradled you until you both meet the bathroom, he set you down on the counter of the bathroom sink, he started the bath letting it full up with bubbles, the sweet sent of roses and vanilla hit your nose, your face meet vals again.

“Here mi estrella” he stated wanting you to stand in front of him, you hoped off the counter and stood infront of him, he started to take the shirt you wore off and place it on the counter you couldn’t help but blush as he went to take your underwear off. “mi estrella” he grabbed you face “look at me cariño” you gave him a soft look at you obeyed him “good girl, let’s take a bath now shall we” he helped you in the tub, you sat down in a hot water as bubbles covered your body. He let your body get comfortable before he started to wash your hair, he let his finger tips reach your scalp not to hard to nip your scalp but just enough to make your hair soft with the conditioner.

Val finished washing you and got up to grab a towel and let you wrap yourself in it “wait there princess let me get you some clothes” he left you to stand in the middle of his room, he came back with one of his night shirts and boxers “here let’s get these on, then we’ll go to bed sound good baby” you nodded a sleepy yes to him, Val took your towel and threw it in the bathroom, “hands up cariño” you put your hands up at he put his shirt over your head, he grabbed your arms and pushed them threw the sleeves then getting to the boxers part, he lifted one of your legs then the other and slipped them the rest of the way up

You yawned and rubbed your eyes, Val couldn’t help but awe at your state “your so adorable cariño, come here” he picked you up and carried you to bed, laying you down he did the same pulling the covers over the both of you, he pulled you close setting your head on his chest. “Goodnight mi estrella, I love you” he spoke giving you a soft kiss on the top of your head.

conejita -bunny

mi Estrella - my star cariño-darling or sweetheart

YALL BETTER BE SO HAPPY CAUSE I HATE THIS HES SO OUT OF CHARACTER ITS NOT FUNNY

@snoozewritezz @camilaxmartin @chiiyuzz

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softspiderling · 2 years

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summer days (drifting away) | b.r.b.

summary: He stood straight and took a few steps, before he paused, turning back to you. “You can call me Bradley!”

With a salute, he continued his run down the beach. Leaning on your arms, you watched his backside until he was only a tiny spot in the distance. You hadn’t really planned on hooking up with anyone during your time here, but if the people here looked only half as good as Bradley, you weren’t sure if you could resist.

or, Bradley bumped into you at the beach and then just keeps doing that

alternatively, an ode to Miles Teller's hands

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

warnings: mention of bruising and bruises, contains smut, minors dni!

word count: 5,6k

author's note: this took a very unexpected turn. anyway, I think you're still going to like it lmao. also my first bradley fic like what. happy reading!!!

“Oh shit!”

You hadn’t been in San Diego long when you immediately packed your bag for the beach. The sun had barely risen over the horizon, but after that horrendous flight the night before, you were antsy for some exercise. After a few laps, the sun was burning from the sky and you went for a quick dip in the water before laying down to dry off. You hadn’t meant to, but eventually, you dozed off, to the sound of the seagulls crowing and the waves crashing gently into the shore. You were rudely woken up by something heavy crashing into you, and when your eyes fluttered open, you had a lap full of a man.

He was bare chested and his aviators sat crooked on his nose when he looked up at you, pushing himself off of the sandy ground with his hands.

“Ow fuck, I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” he panted out and only then you noticed the very prominent mustache he was sporting. You couldn’t understand how you missed it in the first place.

“That’s an understatement. It’s not like I was moving in any shape or form, how could you not have seen me?” you asked dryly, after processing the shock.

“I was in thoughts,” he explained, getting on his knees and dusting the sand off his hands. “Did I hurt you?”

You could tell by the dull pain in your thigh that you’d have a bruise in the shape of his hand later, but it wasn’t like you were going to tell him that, so you shook your head. He was too busy checking you out himself, however, so you told him no when his eyes finally found yours.

“Good. That’s… Good…” he said, trailing off. “Let me make it up to you, yeah?”

“And how are you planning on doing that?”

“Um, the Hard Deck. Tonight, at seven? I’ll buy you a drink.”

“What the hell is the Hard Deck?”

Wordlessly, he pointed over your shoulder to the small bar that sat at the top of the beach. “See you tonight?” He didn’t look like he was going to accept any other answer besides yes, so you sighed, nodding.

“Great.”

He stood straight and took a few steps, before he paused, turning back to you. “You can call me Bradley!”

You spent the rest of the day on the beach, only packing up your stuff when the wind picked up, and made your way back to the small cottage you had rented. You took a quick shower, washed away all the sand and sea water. As you got dressed, you glanced at the bruise on your thigh. Bradley’s hand print on your thigh was starting to turn darker, but it wasn’t that noticeable yet. You laid your hand over it, splaying your fingers out to mimic his hand, only to realize that you couldn’t even cover the spot, which made you feel… Funny. Shaking out of it, you just tugged some shorts on. The sunset turned your room orange and you were able to catch the last few minutes of it, when you headed back outside.

San Diego was refreshingly different from New York. And you weren’t just talking about the weather. When you initially booked the flight to San Diego, you very knowingly decided against Malibu (too many people) and Miami (too… Florida). However, you completely forgot about the naval base that was in San Diego.

The naval base which you definitely remembered now, as a bunch of uniformed people passed by you. Without realizing, you had walked towards the Hard Deck, loud music coming out of the bar. You hadn’t even decided if you wanted to go yet, but since you were already there, it wouldn’t hurt to actually go in, right?

When you stepped in, the warm air immediately engulfed you and you found it hard to find your way to a spot, where you wouldn’t stand in the way. To your luck, you managed to grab an empty bar stool, quickly taking a seat.

As if she was just waiting for you, the barkeeper appeared in front of you.

“Hey, what can I get you?”

“Uhm….” you stammered, looking for a menu, but failing. “I’m actually waiting for someone, I’m fine for now, thanks”

The barkeeper nodded, picking up an empty glass and filling it with water, placing it in front of you. “Call me if you need me.”

You sipped on your water, nearly choking when someone bumped into your side.

“Oh shit, I- Oh, hey it’s you.”

You recognized his voice right away, and with a sigh, you looked up at him - Bradley - and gave him an unimpressed look. “Are you going to make it a habit to bump into me?”

“Nah, don’t think my wallet would like that very much,” Bradley laughed. “What are you drinking?”

“Whatever you’re having is fine,” you replied, still somewhat bothered by the lack of menu and Bradley waved down the barkeeper, raising two fingers at her. She placed two beers on the countertop with a warm smile. Bradley twisted the cap of both bottles, handing you one.

“Cheers.”

You clinked your bottle against his and took a swig, grimacing as the bitter liquid ran down your throat, before schooling your face again. Bradley had apparently not noticed, as he drank his own, bopping his head to the music.

“So, what brings you to Fightertown?” he asked, taking off his sunglasses. Why he was wearing them indoors in the first place, you didn’t know. But when you finally saw his warm brown eyes he’d been hiding between his sunglasses, you were glad that he had been wearing them up to this point. Instead, you opted to look at his clothes, a colorful Hawaiian shirt over a wife beater, now being dragged down by the sunglasses he had stuck in the vee of his top.

“Just a vacation,” you replied, taking your eyes off his chest and looking up, only to see him grinning at you knowingly. “So what’s with the navy bar?” you asked, hoping to distract him.

“I’m a naval aviator,” Bradley explained, his eyebrows shooting up. “Did I not tell you?”

With a shake of your head, you snorted. “Shouldn’t a naval aviator be well aware of his surroundings though?”

“Trust me, I am not this clumsy when I am in the air.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” You lifted the beer to your lips, immediately pulling a face again. Bradley laughed at the sight, leaning against the counter. “You don’t really like beer, do you?”

“I’m sorry. There’s no menu and I don’t really know what they have here,” you sighed and he chuckled, taking the beer from your hands.

“It’s okay. What do you like?”

“Something fruity?”

“Hey Penny!” Bradley called over to the barkeeper. “Can you make my friend a fruity alcoholic?”

In a matter of seconds, a colorful drink, strikingly similar to Bradley’s shirt actually, was standing in front of you. When you took a sip, your face brightened at the taste.

“Better?”

“Loads.”

Bradley shook his head with a smile. “Come on, my friends are at the pool table.” He walked off, not actually making sure that you were following him and you sighed at his presumption, weaving through the crowd with your drink in his hand. At the pool table, Bradley was pressing one of the beer bottles into a blond’s hand, a couple of other people standing around. When the blond saw you, he eyed you up and down, nearly choking on the beer.

“Fuck Rooster, the hell did you do to that poor girl?”

You looked down, the bruise on your thigh a dark purple now, the hand imprint contrasting starkly against your skin. Flushing, you looked up at Bradley, whose face was very red now.

“I thought you said I didn’t hurt you,” he muttered tightly, the tips of his fingers brushing against the bruise, making you shiver. Bradley quickly pulled his hand back, as if he remembered where he was, a grim look on his face.

“I just bruise easily, it doesn’t actually hurt that much, I’m fine,” you assured him, but Bradley continued staring at the imprint.

“Didn’t know you were that kinky in bed, Bradshaw.”

Your face grew hot at the blond’s insinuation. “He tripped over me on the beach.”

“That’s… Even worse,” he sighed, giving Bradley a long look. Based on the dog tags on his neck, he must be working with Bradley.

“I hope you made it up to her, Bradshaw,” a woman with dark hair said, concern on her face, before she looked up at you. “Hey, I’m Natasha. Or Phoenix, whatever floats your boat.”

Phoenix introduced you to everyone else, and god, all of them were so attractive. Was that a requirement to be a naval aviator? You told them your name and Bradley rubbed his hand over his face, embarrassed. “I didn’t even ask for your name.”

“Jesus, get it together, Bradshaw.”

“Shut up, Hangman,” Bradley huffed, bumping Hangman, apparently, with his shoulders. “I wasn’t paying attention on a run and clearly I am destined to forever embarrass myself in front of her anyway.”

“So, you’re on vacation?” Halo asked curiously and you nodded.

“Yeah, my boss forced me to actually take days off instead of just taking case files home and working from my bedroom.”

“What do you do for work?”

“I’m an Assistant’s State attorney in New York.”

“You’re a lawyer?” Hangman asked, before bursting out in laughter, leaning on the pool stick. “Oh this is truly getting better by the second. Please tell me you’re suing Rooster here for bodily harm.”

“Do you ever shut up, Hangman?”

Hangman merely chuckled out a laugh, leaning in to whisper something in Bradley’s ear, before handing him the pool stick. He and some other aviators then moved over to the dartboard, freeing up the pool table. Bradley sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry about him. He just likes to rile me up a bit, he’s all bark and no bite.”

“It’s fine, I’ve heard worse.”

“You know, I considered going into law before I decided for the academy,” Phoenix told you and Bradley raised his eyebrows at her.

“You were?”

“Yeah, but in the end I chose the Navy. Being a lawyer just seemed a bit too hard for me.”

“As opposed to flying a multi-million dollar plane, of course,” you chuckled and Phoenix gave you a sharp smile. You could imagine working alongside Phoenix in a courtroom. She looked like she had a couple of tricks up her sleeve.

“God, who picked this song?” Bradley groaned when the intro of Shape of You started playing. You all looked at the juke-box, where one of Bradley’s co-workers, you believed it was Fanboy, was standing, moving his head excessively to the song.

“Yeah, that’s a no from me,” Bradley sighed, taking a sip from his beer before brushing his hand over your arm. “Come on.”

He moved to the back of the bar and you turned to Phoenix with a confused look but she only laughed, gently pushed you towards where Bradley was going. He had seated himself in front of a piano as the jukebox suddenly died down.

“What is happening?” you asked, leaning on the piano when everyone started crowding around the piano. You glanced down, where Bradley’s fingers were dancing over the piano keys, before meeting his eyes; he only gave you a cheeky smile, before hitting the notes.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain.”

You raised your eyebrows when Bradley started belting out Jerry Lee Lewis’ Great Balls of Fire, completely entranced in his performance. As the rest of the bar joined him in the song, you realized that this must be something that happened regularly and you chuckled, amused.

“Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

Great balls of fire, indeed.

When you woke up the next day, the image of Bradley’s hands flying over the keys of the piano was still ingrained in your mind. You pushed back the blankets, to expose the bruise on your thigh, and by now it settled into a dark purple. Pressing down on it gently, you hissed at the pain shooting up your leg, so you clenched your hands in a fist, staring at the bruise. You didn’t know why the bruise made you feel what you felt. Sighing, you climbed out of bed and got ready for the day.

The small kitchen had a fridge and even though the stove wasn’t the newest, you’d figure you’d try and cook on it. If you had any ingredients to cook with, that is. After a quick google search, you located the nearest grocery store and took the bike in the shed with the small basket at the back. The grocery store was quite busy, which you should’ve expected, but didn’t let that deter you, as you walked between the aisles. It took you a few minutes to find everything you needed, but soon, you found the frozen section and picked up the bag of peas.

Which you promptly dropped when someone smacked the freezer door against your head.

“Ouch!”

You looked to the side, full on glaring at the other person, only letting out a frustrated sigh when you saw who it was.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I am so sorry,” Bradley whined, picking up the peas for you and pressing it against the growing bump on your forehead. “I opened the door with way too much momentum.”

“I thought you weren’t going to make a habit out of it,” you grumbled, curling your fingers around the pea back and pushing his hand away. Bradley ducked his head, probably to hide the redness that was spreading over his face and you seriously couldn’t believe that the Navy let someone like him in the air.

“You always catch me whenever I am not aware of my surroundings, I swear I am not doing it on purpose.”

Bradley gingerly picked the pea bag out of your hands, inspecting your bump. You frowned, reaching up to touch your forehead, wincing when that made the throbbing pain worse. Taking a deep breath, you reached a new bag of frozen peas, walking around Bradley to the check out.

“Hey, where are you going?” Bradley called after you, running so he could catch up with you.

“Home. Where else do you think?”

Your tone was snappish, even though you knew he didn’t purposefully smack the door against your head. But still. You were allowed to be upset. You started putting your things on the conveyor belt, before Bradley took the basket out of his hand, adding it to his stuff. You’d protest, but honestly, at this point that was the least he could do.

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride,” he told you, shifting the grocery bags in his hand but you shook your head at him.

“No, I can’t leave my bike here.”

Bradley gave you a funny look. “You biked here?”

You silenced him with a look and he shook his head quickly.

“Uh, nevermind. We can put your car in the back of my car, you shouldn’t ride a bike like this.”

And he was right. So you walked with him to his car, got inside and waited while he loaded the bike in the trunk before getting in himself. You gave him the directions to your rental and leaned back as he drove. A short car ride later, his car pulled to a stop in front of the cottage. While Bradley took your bike down, you unlocked the front door with one of the grocery bags, heading straight to the kitchen.

“Were you planning on cooking?” he asked, hovering awkwardly in the doorway as you sorted through your stuff.

“Yeah, that was the plan. You know, before you bonked me in the head.”

“Let me help you then,” Bradley said, coming up behind you to take the bag of pistachio nuts he bought for himself, tossing them back into the grocery bag. The spot, where your hands touched suddenly felt warm and you shrunk away, looking up at him.

“Don’t you have an important plane to fly?”

“Day off, hence-” he pointed at his grocery bag. “Now will you let me help you? Please?”

“Well, if you insist.”

You heaved yourself on the counter, your legs dangling in the air. Bradley looked a little bit lost so you started giving him instructions on what to do, how much water he should use and when to put the pasta in. He was trying really hard, but it was obvious that he didn’t cook very often.

“Jesus, don’t stirr so hard.”

“What! I thought it’s going to get blended anyway!”

“Yeah, but still. You could be a little more graceful, don’t be so heavy-handed.”

“I am a big guy,” Bradley sniffed.

He sure was.

The kitchen wasn’t the biggest in the first place, but as soon as Bradley came in, it seemed it shrunk to half its size. The blender looked tiny in his hands when he took it out of the cupboard. He grabbed the cheese grater, holding it over a bowl as he grated the cheese and your eyes glazed over as you imagined his hands holding you in place while he did god knows what to your body.

“You okay? You look a bit flushed.”

Quickly, you averted your eyes from his hands, hoping he hadn’t noticed. What kind of person lusts over a man who was just trying to cook for you? Nah, wait, that was kind of a normal thing to lust over, wasn’t it?

“Fine. Just a bit warm.”

Bradley side-eyed you, a smirk curling on his lips before he turned his attention back to his task at hand. You tried to keep your lusty eyes at bay for the remaining time Bradley was standing at the stove and about thirty minutes later, Bradley plated you a beautiful portion of pasta, his eyes fleeting to the second plate.

“Oh come on, that would be mean of me not to let you eat after you worked so hard. Eat with me.”

Just like the room it was standing in, the table was tiny, barely fitting two grown adults. You and Bradley sat across from each other, knees brushing occasionally as you ate.

“You don’t cook often, do you?”

He stared at you, mouth open before he took another bite of the pasta, pursing his lips.

“It doesn’t taste that bad, does it?”

“No no,” you assured him quickly, laughing at his expression. “It’s good. Just… The way you were fumbling around the kitchen, I guess it was pretty obvious.”

Bradley’s eye twitched, as if it physically pained him that you were laughing at his expense but he didn’t say a thing, shoving another spoonful of pasta in his mouth. It was oddly domestic, and usually that’d make you uncomfortable, but the fact that you didn’t? You weren’t sure what that meant.

When the two of you finished eating, you stacked the empty plates and put them in the sink, letting the water run over it for good measure. You could hear the chair scratching against the floor behind you as Bradley got up.

“Thanks for lunch.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, smiling coyly. “You were the one who was cooking.”

“You know what I mean,” Bradley chuckled. He shifted on his feet. “I gotta go now, I am supposed to meet my uncle later. But uh,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “You can call me if your pain’s getting worse.”

Smooth.

“I don’t have your number,” you retorted and Bradley’s cheeks reddened, slipping his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. You typed your phone number into his contacts and saved it, shooting yourself a text message for good measure before returning his phone.

You walked him to the door and Bradley stilled, his hand on the door knob. “We’re at the Hard Deck almost every night. If you ever want to join us again.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Standing in the doorway, you waited until Bradley’s bronco turned around the corner before you shut the door. God, you had not expected to pine after a naval aviator during your vacation. Massaging the temple of your forehead, you head to the living room to maybe pop an ibuprofen.

For the next few days, you resisted the urge to actually go down to the Hard Deck. Or text Bradley for that matter. You used the free time on your hand to go into town and check out local shops, and head down to the beach to tan a bit. Even though you tried not to, you kept an eye out for a particular mustached aviator. On your third night, you were laying on the couch, staring at the ceiling of the living room.

“God, what kind of vacation is this?” you muttered to yourself, rolling over to smush your face into the pillow. You didn’t even know why you were torturing yourself like this. You knew you liked Bradley and that you wanted to see him. So why weren’t you letting yourself do so?

Cuz you’re scared that you’re going to like him too much.

Screw that rational voice inside your head.

///

Bradley’s eyes flitted to the entrance of the bar whenever someone entered the bar and he realized that he was starting to look desperate. He knew that you were on vacation and that you probably had better things to do than hang around a Navy bar, but… Sue him. There had been new… Revelations and he was itching to put them to a test. Bradley suspected that you had a thing for his hands. You’ve been staring a lot at them and flushing all prettily when he caught you, he wasn’t sure if there was another explanation for it.

“You’re starting to look really pathetic, Bradshaw.”

Bradley didn’t even have to look away from the door to know that it was Hangman who joined him at the table, blindly reaching his hand out to grab the beer the other man had brought him from the bar.

“Just making sure you have enough material to make fun of me for.”

“At this point I only feel sorry for you.”

“I hit her with a freezer door in the head the last time I saw her.”

Bradley wasn’t sure why he told Hangman, but it was too late to take back. Hangman only blinked at him, sighing deeply.

“You’re literally flying for the Navy, Bradshaw. Please don’t embarrass us.” Hangman glanced over Bradley’s shoulder, hissing a head’s up before he disappeared. Bradley whirled around when he saw you coming towards him, face flushed.

“Hi.”

///

“Well, look who the cat dragged in,” Bradley teased, looking you up and down. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, haven’t sustained any bodily harm since we last saw each other, but I am sure that’s going to change soon now that you’re around.”

“Ha!” Bradley barked out, though you didn’t miss the blush on his cheeks.

“Another fruity drink?”

“On your dime? Absolutely.”

“Well, I guess I do still owe you one drink,” he said wryly, heading to the bar to grab you said drink. Meanwhile, you greeted the others, smiling at Phoenix, who grinned at you.

“Hey, you. Was starting to think that Rooster’s scared you off already.”

“No, I am not that hard to get rid off,” you laughed, kind of touched that your absence was noted.

“You guys up for a game of pool?” Phoenix asked, holding the other cue stick in her hand, Halo hovering closely nearby.

You pulled a face. Pool wasn’t really something you pride yourself on playing often. And you didn’t like to do something you weren’t particularly good at, since the chance you’d embarrass yourself was very high. Embarrassing yourself in front of a group of highly skilled naval aviators was really the last thing you wanted to do today.

“I think I’ll pass, I am not really the best.”

“Aw come on,” Bradley crowed, returning to the pool table with your drink in hand. “I’ll pick up your slack. Eight-ball?”

Halo had already started collecting the balls in a triangle and you sighed, knowing you wouldn’t get out of this now.

“Fine. One game,” you relented, grabbing your drink from Bradley’s hand and taking a sip. There was no way you’d survive this embarrassment sober.

Phoenix started the game, hitting the balls straight in the middle with the white cue ball, spreading the stripes and solids very evenly across the pool table. You and Bradley took turns, alternating with Halo and Phoenix. After about twenty minutes, Halo and Phoenix have sunk about six balls, while you and Bradley have sunk three.

Correction, Bradley sunk three.

You winced, as the white cute ball moved into the opposite direction of where you wanted it to go and Bradley bit back a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand.

“How about you stop laughing and help me?” you complained, while Phoenix lined up her shot in her turn. “You know we’re on the same team, right?”

“Honestly, you’re not that bad. It’s just that you’re holding the cue stick the wrong way. Here, let me show you.”

Bradley took the cue stick out of your hand when it was your turn again, easily sinking another one of your striped balls. “See? Easy.”

Scoffing, you accepted the cue stick when he offered it to you, lining up against the cue ball, turning back to check with Bradley. He shook his head, and without further ado, he pushed himself off of the table he was leaning on, bending over to correct your posture.

“Here, hold your hand like this,” he instructed, his body flush against yours. His breath was hot on your neck and you flushed, clumsily following his orders. Jesus, this man had no sense of shame, did he? “Okay, now try hitting the ball, not too hard though. Gently.”

You gave the white cue ball a gentle push with the stick, just like you were told and lo and behold! The striped ball rolled towards the corner of the pool table, sinking into the net below.

“Yes!”

“Good girl.”

A shiver ran down your back and when you turned your head to the side, he still was dangerously curved over your body. Bradley met your glance, his gaze dropping to your lips for a second, stepping away when Phoenix cleared her throat.

“Uh, you okay to keep going, or…?”

“I think it’s time for me to head out, actually,” you said, eyes on Bradley. He blinked at you, confused for a second before realization dawned on him. Nodding enthusiastically, he grabbed the cue stick from your hand, dropping it on the pool table.

“Yeah, I think so too. Gonna hit the hay.”

“My god,” Phoenix muttered but you and Bradley were already heading out of the bar, his large hand splayed against the small of your back and you felt like you were going to explode soon. When you stepped out to the pebble-stoned parking lot in front, you turned around.

“Where’s your ca-”

The rest of your sentence turned to a yelp when Bradley grabbed you by the waist and pinned you against the car, crowding against you. His eyes were dark when he looked at you, grip tight on your body.

“Are you going to kiss me or what?”

Bradley chuckled, raising one of his hands to grab your chin gently before he leaned down to press his lips against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut as you kissed him back, helplessly fisting his open shirt. It’s been a long time since you’ve been kissed like this.

“How about…” you muttered between kisses, before pulling away. “How about we take this somewhere else before we get arrested for public indecency?”

“I am sure you could talk your way out of being arrested,” Bradley pointed out before opening the car door next to you, clapping you on your ass.

“Get in.”

Somewhat petulantly, you got in the car, surprised by yourself how the way he spoke to you didn’t make you feel like a kid being ordered around. It kind of turned you on? Bradley got in the driver’s seat, immediately starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. Biting on your lip, you felt excitement thrumming through your entire body. Soon, you arrived at your rental and you barely waited until Bradley turned the engine before you jumped out of the car, getting a headstart to the front door.

When you got inside however, Bradley quickly spun you around, pushing your back against the door.

“Someone’s a bit eager, hm?” He whispered against your skin, slowly kissing down your throat. You whimpered softly, your eyes fluttering shut. Bradley’s hands wandered down your sides, until they disappeared down your dress. It didn’t take long for him to pull your panties down, making you gasp quietly.

“God, you’re soaking.”

Bradley scrunched up your panties in his hand, taking a whiff of them before shoving them in the pocket of his shirt. He grinned up at you, his index finger stroking the inside of your thigh.

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl.”

“Your f-fingers, please,” you gasped out and the smirk he gave you was almost feral. He inched his hand higher, index finger stroking between your wet folds and you moaned out, laying your head against the door.

“Like this?”

“Exactly like this,” you gasped out, your toes curling when he stroked his fingers against the small bundle of nerves nestled in your cunt. All this time you’ve been staring at his hands, imagining how his fingers would feel in you and it was so much better. Bradley kept applying pressure against your cunt, before he curled his finger, slipping one digit inside you. You cried out a moan as he moved one finger in and out of you, before adding another.

“Got a little obsession with my hands, hm?” Bradley asked, his free hand curling around your bruised thigh, squeezing a bit.

“Gotta say, while I did not enjoy hurting you, I do like seeing my imprint on you.”

“M-me too,” you moaned, knees getting weaker by the second. Bradley hummed, his nose inching higher, until his head disappeared underneath your dress, and you nearly screamed out when you felt him licking your cunt. When he added his tongue to the mix, you knew you were done for.

“So close.”

“What was that?” Bradley asked, pulling his mouth away while his fingers kept pumping inside of you. You whined at the loss of his tongue, shaking your head.

“‘m gonna come.”

“Then come.”

With a gasp, you arched your back, your orgasm hitting you harder than you’d thought.Bradley pressed a gentle kiss on the bruise, the hairs of his mustache tickling against the sensitive skin, somehow only making you come harder. You slumped to your knees when the orgasm washed over, but Bradley was quick to catch you by the waist, holding you up.

“Awe, is someone getting tired?” he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice as he brushed your hair back, revealing your blissed out face. “‘cause I’m nowhere done with you, little miss.”

“Wow, look at you! Sun looks good on you.”

You had managed to extend your vacation days for seven more days after your two weeks were nearly up. Though it wasn’t nearly enough, it was better than nothing and Bradley made sure to make every single second worth your time. It was hard to leave him and the small life you had settled in Fightertown, but your actual life and job were waiting back in New York.

“It’s been really nice actually,” you chuckled, leaning on Ava’s desk. While you got along well with her, she was quite the office gossip so you had to watch what you’d say.

“I’ll say. I was surprised to hear that you’d requested another week. I thought for sure you were just waiting until the two mandatory weeks were over until you’d stand right back here, begging for a case file.”

“Ha! Well, I guess I got a taste of real life and liked it.”

“Oh shit, did you hurt yourself? How did you get that bruise?” Ava asked, pointing at the bruise around your wrist. With a smirk, you laid your hand around it, chuckling lightly.

Bradley’s grip on your wrists was tight, surely bruising later, but it wasn’t like you’d care. Your suitcase was packed, standing in the corner of the room, long forgotten as Bradley thrusted deeply in you, making you moan. His face was tucked in the crook of your neck, leaving small, peppering kisses on your skin as he snapped his hips against yours.

When both of you came down from your high, you were rubbing your wrists, giving him a look. “You know people are going to ask. And my co-workers aren’t as laid-back as yours.”

“Make up an excuse, that’s what you’re getting paid for, isn’t it?” Bradley smirked, leaning in to press a hard kiss against your lips. “

“I was flying a kite at the beach and the twine roped around my wrists, nothing major. Anyways, here’s my request. I need the last Thursday of September off.”

You handed Ava the slip and she raised a brow, filing it away. “Another day off?”

“Yeah, my boyfriend is getting a medal of valor and I’d like to be there.”

“Your what?”

Well, the cat was out of the bag now, wasn’t it?

author's note: eeek! don't forget to reblog besties!

🏷️list: @idiomaticpunk // @luckyladycreator2 // @littlebadariell // @labellapeaky // @solacestyles // @ssaic-jareau // @xoxabs88xox //

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw headcanon #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley’rooster’ bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x you #rooster x reader #top gun

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magicmanii · 15 days

Note

yoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyooyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyooyoyoyoyo

can i pretty please request a rin x gn reader where rin is hopelessly down bad for them? (like he runs to pay for anything they want and gets grumpy/petty if reader insists/pays or runs to open doors for them and is honestly just all around pathetically in love)

BEACHY LOVE

🌺 It's been… like 7 months since my best friend has requested this.. I hope you enjoy…

🌺 It might be a little ooc Rin? Disgustingly in love Rin!!! Rin is a cutie patootie in this!!! Isagi is a little freaked out.. Also I haven't read bllk in a minute so I'm going off of what I know.. THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD!!!!

🌺GN READER‼️‼️‼️

🌺 WORD COUNT: 1,204

Isagi has seen a lot of weird stuff since he's become a famous soccer player.

He's seen fans flash their favorite players in a weird attempt to get their attention, he's seen opponents lose their shit after losing a match, he's even seen his own teammates get weird while playing a game. He can't really say anything about that though…

But what he's never seen before; in his seventeen years of life, is Rin Itoshi, one of the best soccer players in Japan (and also notably one of the most cold and standoffish) rubbing sunscreen into someone else's back.

I mean— helping someone with something without glaring at them or complaining!?

A shiver ran up Isagi's spine.

This couldn't be Rin. This had to be an imposter.

Rin would never willingly do something for someone unless—

Another shiver ran up Isagi's spine. A mysterious apple also fell on his head.

Unless… they were his partner!

Wait. No, he's getting too ahead of himself. Rin, Mr— “I have a stick shoved up my ass constantly” would never be able to pull someone! Especially someone so beautiful!

But then that brought him back to his original question. If this wasn't his partner, who was it!?

Before isagi could question Rin's and this mysterious person's relationship anymore, a monotonous voice broke him out of his stupor.

“Hey, NPC, can you move? You're standing right in front of the door.” said soccer player grumbled out while glaring daggers down at the now sweating Isagi.

“Oh! —” Isagi quickly moved out of the way of the entrance to the shaved ice hut. “Sorry.”

Rin walked in without even sparing isagi another word or glance, clearly focusing more on his task than his rival.

Now that Rin was closer, Isagi could get a look at his attire. And let me tell you. Isagi could feel himself getting traumatized again.

I mean— how couldn't he!? Rin was wearing neon blue swim trunks with flamingos and palm trees on it while also wearing a pair of pineapple sunglasses!

Who was this!?

“Do you have a staring problem, NPC?” Rin coldly asked when he felt Isagi's burning gaze on his back.

“What are you wearing?” Isagi boldly snapped back, not caring if he got a death glare because of it.

“swim trunks.”

“Wha— no kidding! I could tell that much! But why are you wearing ones with flamingo print on them!? And what's with the sunglasses!?” He questioned while pointing at the offending male.

Slowly, Very slowly, maybe it was intentional on how slow he was turning; Rin turned around to face Isagi, his expression far from a welcoming one.

In actuality, if looks could kill, Isagi would be, not 6ft, but 30ft underground!

“if you have such a problem with what I'm wearing maybe you should pluck your eyeballs out.” he spat out before turning back around and grabbing two snow cones from the smiling cashier.

“You should learn how to mind your business, NPC.” was the final thing Rin said to isagi, the pro soccer player shoving his way past the shorter and stomping his way out the hut.

It wouldn't take long before Rin would make it to his partner again. His partner in question looking up at their boyfriend with a questioning gaze.

“Rinnie? What's with the face?” They questioned while reaching out for the snow cone they requested, saying a small “Thank you” as they watched the other sit down on the ground like a pouting child.

“I ran into isagi.” He simply said, his blue eyes staring daggers into the poor snow cone in his grasp.

“So?” Y/N shrugged, looking at Rin with a questionable gaze.

“He had a problem with what I was wearing.”

“So what'd you say?”

“I told him he could pull his eyeballs out if he hated my outfit that much.”

“Aww Rinnie! You like the outfit I picked out for you that much!?” Y/N cooed while lovingly pinching their boyfriend's cheek.

Rin let out a soft grunt but didn't push Y/N away.

“You know, if you like the outfits I pick out for you that much, you should let me pick out all your outfits!” Y/N offered with a cheeky smile

Rin looked at his partner for a moment, his eyes softly gazing at their features: their bright eyes, their pretty smile, their soft hair..

Rin looked away from them with another grunt.

“No way.” He quietly said, a soft, almost unnoticeable blush on his face.

“What!? Why not!?” Y/N whined, a childish pout on their face.

“Because I said so.”

“That's not an answer!” Y/N grumbled

“Why not?” Rin teased while sticking his tongue out

“Because I said so!” They spat back with their tongue now out as well

“You're a child.” The soccer player scoffed, a small fond smile on his face at the sight of Y/N's pouting face.

This earned Rin a gentle punch from Y/N.

“You can go kiss my ass!” Y/N exclaimed before turning around and shoving a spoonful of shaved ice into their mouth.

It was quiet for a moment. All anyone would be able to hear would be the soft lapping of the ocean softly caressing the land before retreating once more, the sound of seagulls squawking away, and the gentle sound of wind brushing through the leaves of the trees.

“You know,” Rin started, successfully catching Y/N's attention.

“I have a gala coming up. You can uh..” He hesitated, a harsh blush growing on his face once more. “You can choose an outfit out for me.” he softly said.

At this, Y/N leaned in impossibly closer, their hand cupping the back of their ear as they let out an obnoxious “What was that?”. If it could, their ear would grow comically large as they waited for Rin to repeat himself.

Cursing under his breath, Rin let out a tired sigh before repeating himself.

“I said—” he started only to get cut off by Y/N grabbing his face.

“That I could pick out any outfit for you to wear to a gala!?” Y/N basically screamed in excitement, a smile running from ear to ear as they inched their face closer and closer to Rin's.

If it wasn't for the fact that his partner just ruptured his ear drums, he would've found their closeness extremely flustering.

But despite his lost hearing, he couldn't help but admire their features.

‘Damn them and their cute face…’ he silently cursed to himself.

Pushing Y/N away gently, Rin crossed his arms and averted his gaze.

“you're too loud.” He scolded, but his scolding landed on deaf ears seeing as Y/N was too busy celebrating their victory.

‘They're such a pain…’ Rin lovingly thought to himself while watching them celebrate.

#x gn reader #x reader #blue lock x gn reader #blue lock x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x gn reader #rin itoshi x you #rin x reader #rin x you

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purplecoffee13 · 6 months

Text

The Fake Girlfriend - pt. 2*

Summary: “The official fake dating can commence, and so can the exploration of a whole bunch of new… feelings.”

Wc: 4.9k

Tropes: semi-enemies to lovers (she hates him)

Warnings: jealousy, possessiveness, smut (f!receiving), a sudden deep analysis of wuthering heights followed by smut

*2 weeks later*

I'm going to move to Italy, seriously.

Ever since Harry and I arrived at the airport I haven't been able to stop myself from gawking at everything I've seen. That includes Harry's relatives, proving that his entire family consists of solely good genes.

The flight was excruciatingly long and a bit uncomfortable. Harry taught me as much as he could about his family, and we both complained about the hernia we were getting from our bad seats. Nevertheless, we both attempted to sleep, and I accidentally dozed off while leaning on his shoulder.

One of Harry's cousins, Matthew, picked us up at the airport. He was particularly fascinated with my existence, almost as much as I was with his accent. I love English accents, I could listen to them for hours on end.

Matthew led us to our room in the Villa and gave Harry a pat on the back before leaving us alone to unpack and get ready to meet the family.

"He's nice." I note, throwing my backpack on the Queen sized bed we have in this room.

"He's a little shit." Harry chuckles, earning a furrowed brow from me. He waves it off, literally, and sits himself on the bed. "You'll see."

We stay fairly quiet for the rest of the time, unpacking our stuff and freshening up. Well, mainly me, because Harry doesn't have to do half the things I do to look good. It's so much easier being a man.

I shoo Harry out of our bedroom and put on a long, brown dress with a wide slit and some floral print on it. As soon as I've changed, I open the door to the bathroom so he knows it's okay for him to walk back in. When he does walk back in, we both catch each other off guard.

While he is analyzing the dress that is currently clinging to my body, I'm gawking at his shirtless chest. My cheeks start to heat up when I realize that I'm staring, but luckily Harry doesn't notice because he's too busy staring at me. Then, he clears his throat.

"Nice dress."

"Thank you." I throw him a small smile.

It doesn't take long for Harry to get dressed and soon enough we are walking from our room to the villa, where the welcome dinner will be held, or at least that's what it said on the card that Harry handed to me on the plane.

We sit down at our assigned seats at one of many round tables. I don't miss the name tags of Harry's parents, and I'm glad to find that Matthew will also be sitting at our table. It will make things a bit less nerve racking.

Harry places his hand on the small of my back as he guides me to his mother. He looks just like her, and by the warm smile on her face, I realize that it probably won't be as bad as I might think it would.

"Mum, this is Y/N. The girl I've told you about. She's my girlfriend." The words leave his mouth in a way that makes me think someone is holding a gun to his head, and I can tell that his mother thinks the same thing.

"I'm Sheila." She introduces herself, nonetheless. I can tell that she is skeptical of me, despite the warm smile on her face. I know it's a genuine one, but I know that she knows her son, and she'll see something is up if he doesn't get his act together.

"This is Tom." She turns to a tall man that I immediately recognize as Harry's father. He doesn't have a lot of facial features from his dad, except for the nose, that is exactly the same. But the way he carries himself, the way he extends his hand for me to shake, those are the aspects that make Harry identical to his father.

We chat with his parents for a little, telling our wonderfully fake story of how we met. Tom keeps nodding but doesn't seem fully convinced. Not because he doesn't believe it, but probably because of the girl he'd rather have his daughter be with; the reason I'm here in the first place. Sheila remains skeptical, but that is just because she can see right through Harry.

So when his parents leave to get some food from the buffet, I'm quick to swat his arm.

"Ow!" He hisses at me.

"You're a terrible actor, do you know that? Your mom is totally on to us!" I say in a soft tone, but it doesn't discredit my disapproval.

"I'm sorry okay! It's hard to lie to her." He responds, and the confession makes my heart melt a little.

I let him off with a roll of the eyes and we join the queue for the buffet. During dinner, Matthew promotes himself to main entertainer of our table by telling countless of stories about him and Harry and all of their antics from back in the days. Harry seems slightly embarrassed sometimes, but he finds it funny nonetheless.

In an attempt to make me and Harry seem like more of a real couple, I take it upon myself to touch him during dinner. Just casual touching. Some hand-holding—above the table so everyone can see of course—and the occasional leg rub. It's only halfway through dinner that Harry finally initiates some touches to, and I have to bite my inner lip at the way his hand feels wrapped around my thigh.

After dinner, a few tables are removed in order to create a dance floor. People are quick to get on it, but Harry refuses to come along with me. Matthew doesn't let the opportunity to bust a move pass, so I leave my purse with Harry and get on the dance floor with him.

We have a big laugh, Matthew and I. He spins me around an absurd amount of times, dramatically dances the tango with me while a pop song is playing, and throws out some moves that I haven't seen since I played Just Dance when I was eight years old.

After a while I decide to retire from the dance floor and get a drink. Matthew offers to accompany me, and for a second I contemplate whether I should say yes. Then I figure, he is a part of Harry's family and I need as many of them on my side for this whole act to be believable, plus I'll be able to get Harry a drink.

We walk over to the bar and order our drinks, Matthew is quick to spark up a conversation as we wait for our beverages.

"How long have you been together again?" He asks, looking over at me with a smirk.

"A month, officially." I reply, and he raised his brows in surprise.

"Only a month, huh?"

"Like I said, officially." I tilt my head, a mischievous smile on my face. He leans over in my direction, with eyes ready to play, and I immediately start to wonder if the head tilt was too flirty instead of funny and playful.

"And unofficially?"

"Almost three months." I divert my eyes back to the drinks that are put in front of me, and thank the bartender.

"Is it serious? Between you two?" He asks, and I don't like the glint of desperation in his voice. Is this what Harry meant, when he said 'you'll see'? Is this guy seriously trying to hit on his cousin's date?

"Well, I cancelled spring break plans with my family, so I sure hope it is." I flash him a smile before taking the drinks and walking back to Harry.

He's sitting alone, despite most every seat around him being taken. Not talking to anyone, not on his phone, just staring into the nothingness. When I approach, he's thrown out of his trance and his eyes follow me instead as I make my way to him and hand over his drink.

"Whiskey on the rocks." I tell him. He smiles at me, putting the glass on the table and grabbing my now free hand. His legs are spread, so he pulls me closer until I'm standing in between them. He looks up at me, and the sole color of his eyes makes my hands sweat profusely.

"Are you having fun?" He asks, his head tilting just like mine did a few seconds ago.

"I am," I say, looking around a bit. "But my legs are a bit tired... Is there a free chair behind you?"

I squint at something that looks like a chair, but I can't really make it out from this angle. When Harry doesn't respond, I look down at him, and find that he was already looking at me. He grabs my waist and pushes me in a bit. Confused, I let my body follow his silent demands, and watch him sit up straighter before pulling me onto his lap.

My back leans against the table, and my legs are thrown over his left one. I hold my drink in my right hand while my left is slung over his shoulder for 'support'. My cheeks flush at the realization that my ass is right on his groin, but I try to make it seem as if it doesn't affect me at all. He holds my waist with his right arm, tracing his fingers around in a way that makes my body shiver.

My eyes fly to my left thigh when he puts his other hand on it, and I try to steady my breathing as much as humanly possible while the tingling sensation between my legs becomes too adamant for me to ignore. The low chuckle that leaves Harry's mouth isn't missed by me, and it makes me even more nervous. He notices, and strikes up a conversation about the party, his family and Matthew.

"He asked me how long we've been official." I decide to tell him. Harry finds it amusing.

"Really?" He smiles. "The fucker."

"What?" I ask, not really understanding how that question adds up to him being a fucker.

"He wants you, been eye fucking you ever since he met you." He explains. "He has a thing for unavailable people, especially if they're unavailable because of me."

"So he just steals your girlfriends? Or at least, tries to?" I clarify, eyes wide, and Harry nods. "How have you not been in thousands of fights already?"

"Never really cared about it." He shrugs. "Most girls were just flings or one night stands, it wasn't anything serious, really."

"Wow." I laugh in disbelief, and it makes me wonder if maybe he is going to let Matthew hit on me. After all, we're faking this. It shouldn't be relief that I feel when Harry's grip on me tightens as soon as Matthew approaches us once again, but I do, I feel relieved. A little bit giddy too.

"Hey, wanna go for a round two?" Matthew asks me after greeting us both. I'm about to decline his offer, but I don't get a chance to speak.

"She's busy." Harry says in a tone that makes my head turn to him. His eyes don't look as friendly as they did before, and the warm smile on his face is looking a little bit more cynical. Matthew takes the hint and wanders off, a bit of disappointment on his face.

"Wow, you really nailed that 'jealous boyfriend' act." I tease him, my left hand instinctively trailing to the back of his head, where I start playing with his hair. He rolls his eyes, pulling me even more into him. I shift in his lap a bit, placing my drink on the table and grabbing his glass instead.

"Here." I hand it to him. "You haven't drank anything since dinner."

"Wow, you're really nailing that 'caring girlfriend' act." He reconstructs my words, and I roll my eyes accordingly. He drinks nonetheless, and I snatch the glass from him, take my cocktail back in my hand, and turn to him again. I frown when his nails dig into my skin.

"Don't move so much."

My cheeks instantly flush. Right...

I am usually way more confident when it comes to flirting. I know exactly what to say, when to say it and how to flutter with my eye lashes in those ways that make men want to drag you to their bedroom. I can flirt with everyone, I'm not easily impressed. Well, except with Malcolm of course, but that was just because I had a crush him. I act like an idiot around people I have a crush on. But I don't. I don't have a crush on Harry. I hated him until a few weeks ago– no. Until a few days ago. I started tolerating him on the plane. Yes, the plane. Oh god, the plane.

"I–" I start a sentence, looking him dead in the eye while realizing that I didn't have something to finish it with. His green eyes along with the feeling of whatever I shouldn't be feeling while sitting on his lap is making me dizzy. "I'm gonna go get a drink."

I try to wiggle out of my seat — which is his lap, oh my god — but Harry seems to find this whole situation very amusing, because for some reason he tightens his grip around me — pushing me more into his hard-on —then nods at the full glass in my hand.

"I think you're good, love." He gives me a half-smirk like I've only seen those guys in the romance movies do and I don't like how it makes my heart pound. What the fuck is happening to me right now?

I look at him, trying to come up with some kind of response that doesn't end up with me sounding like an absolute moron, and then I get lost in his eyes. The loud music fades, and the only thing I can seem to focus on are his eyes and his left hand that grazes further up the slit of my dress. It's only inches, and he trails painfully slow, but he keeps going because he waits for my reaction and it's positive. He can tell by the look in my eyes, and by the way my grip on his hair is a bit too tight.

The tips of his fingers are dangerously close to my panties, and all of a sudden, the music becomes louder again and I feel like I'm waking up from a sinful dream. I swing my legs off of his and get up, my drink almost spilling because of the sudden action. I quickly place it on the table.

"Pee." I say, partly to myself and partly to Harry. "I'm going to... pee."

Harry looks a bit surprised, but more in a way that makes him laugh. I don't miss how his head shakes a bit before giving me a permissive hum. I begin to walk away when I realize a crucial detail is missing, and so I saunter back over to Harry.

"Do you know where the bathrooms are?"

"No." He smirks.

"Oh. okay. Uhm..." I look around aimlessly, hoping to spot some kind of sign. But then, Harry gets up, and stands in front of me. He towers over me easily, it's intimidating and hot. Two things I need him not to be if I want to survive this wedding.

"D'you want to go back to the room?" He asks, voice gone a bit softer. I nod before I even realize that I am doing it, and Harry places a kiss on my temple. Grabbing my hand, he leads us towards the exit, waving goodbye to his parents before we make our way back over to our bedroom.

The cobblestones define the pace of our footsteps, making a whole lot of noise to confirm us where we are. Not that I'd need those stones to find him—he's still holding my hand. I shrug it off, it's dark and he probably doesn't want me to fall face first into these little rocks.

Once we've arrived at our room, Harry walks into the place like it's his apartment, and he goes to occupy the bathroom almost immediately. I grab my white, floral pyjama set that I actually never wear because I like to wear an oversized t-shirt to bed and nothing more. But, I packed my suitcase with the knowledge that I was going to have to lay next to a man the whole week, so I only brought the cute stuff.

When Harry leaves the bathroom, some steam leaves along with him, and I quickly look away at the revelation that he is shirtless, again. I don't miss the amused sniff, but I ignore it nonetheless. I skip into the bathroom, lock it and take a very anticipated shower. A part of me hopes that the water would also wash this weird vibe off. Like if I got out and walked back into that bedroom, my hands wouldn't start to sweat at the sight of him on the bed.

Unfortunately, I am wrong. Because when I do leave the bathroom, not only do my hands start to sweat, but my heart also begins to pound. Fuck.

I'd actively been ignoring this ever since the party. This stupid feeling, thinking it was just me being touch deprived. But I'm not so sure now. Maybe I do have a crush on Harry. However, I can't afford to think about that too much now, so I shake it off and walk over to my side of the bed.

I throw a decorative pillow on the ground and climb into the bed, trying to act as if I don't notice Harry staring at me. He's on his phone, doing God knows what. I grab my book from the bed side table.

"Wuthering Heights, huh?" He smirks, and I can sense the pretentiousness from miles away. I look at him, then roll my eyes with a smile.

"Shut up, it's my favorite story."

"Why? Heathcliff is awful." He frowns, and his tone is a bit mocking. Not to me, just to the story. But it's my favorite story, so I take the offense.

"I just like the fact that it acknowledges that love can make you both whole and destroy you. That loving isn't always really the ending, or the solution. It can be a fleeting middle, break you in a thousand pieces and then leave it for you to pick up the pieces yourself."

"That's a bit pessimistic, innit?" He chuckles. I shrug.

"I think it's realistic to recognize that spite, anger, sadness, and revenge are almost always born out of love, or a lack of it. I think it's optimistic, actually."

He smiles. "Yeah?"

"Mhm." I hum. "Think it creates a space for empathy, does it not?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Harry frowns, as if I've just opened a new door for him. I smile at his face, full of contemplation over what I just said and I know that I'm inevitably screwed.

He should've bashed the freaking book so I could have a reason to hate him.

I decide that I won't be able to concentrate on anything anyway now that I have admitted these weird feelings to myself—and the subject of those feelings is laying next to me—so I shut the book and put it back on my nightstand.

"Not reading after all?"

"Nope." I chime, my tone sounding way too forced. "Changed my mind. 'M gonna sleep."

I turn off the light on my bedside table and turn around to Harry who is still laying with his phone in his hands. It freaks me out that he is looking at me, it makes me so nervous, but I try my best to be cool.

"Good night." I sigh as my head hits the pillow. I finally look up at Harry—bad move—and my heart melts a bit at his sweet smile.

"Good night."

I am laying with my face towards Harry, mainly because I laid down like that and now I'm too scared to shift too much and look weird, but I feel Harry's burning gaze on me and frankly, it's making me feel incredibly tense. My heart is beating way quicker than it should and I have to consciously steady my breathing in order to provide my lungs with some oxygen.

"Harry." I finally say after three more minutes of tense silence, eyes still closed. He hums softly. "I can feel you looking at me."

I open my eyes, because suddenly I'm very afraid that I'm wrong and look like a complete fool, but he is indeed still staring. He doesn't look like a dear in headlights, he's just smiling. There is a sense of comfort in him that I envy, especially because I feel like I could explode right now.

"Yeah, well, you're nice to look at." He answers, making my cheeks flush with embarrassment. I quickly dart my eyes to his body so I won't have to meet his confrontational gaze — bad idea, bad idea! — and quickly find that staring at his body isn't going to help my case any more.

"Am I making you nervous?" He asks softly, in a way that you could almost describe as sweet. But it isn't, because I know he's reveling in this.

Out of instinct, I look up at him, wide eyed at the fact that he read my mind and my body so well. But I cannot afford this—whatever it is that is hanging in the air right now—so I shake my head.

"Nope, just frustrated." I sigh, which is more a way to get my breathing back to normal. I pull myself up and turn around, my back now towards him, and hope to have closed the conversation for tonight. There is some shuffling from the other side and for a moment I think I did it, I think I won, but then I feel a hand sneak around my bare waist and my mind turns into jelly.

I suck in a sharp breath at the touch of his cold hand and the heat of his mouth on my ear, and swallow a whine at the way it's making my head spin.

"Do you need me to help you relax?" He whispers, and I suck in a deep breath.

"I– I need to sleep." I attempt to reason — mainly with myself — and Harry just chuckles.

"I can think of a way to tire you out." He insinuates smugly and I clench my jaw at his stupid charisma and how well it's working on me.

"Harry, I can't..." I begin the sentence, even though I have no logical argument to say no right now. I want him, really bad but a part of me is forbidding it for reasons unknown, which makes me want it even more. You know what they say about forbidden fruit...

"What? Would you rather be with my cousin? Have him get you off, hmm?" He asks a bit condescendingly, which makes me think the jealous act maybe wasn't such an act after all. His thumb is now circling over my hips and it's making me dizzy, which is exactly what he's trying to do to me.

"No–"

"No?" He plays dumb. His hand lowers to my pyjama shorts and starts playing with it's elastic band. My stomach is on fire and my pussy is aching, it's getting too much for me to brush off. I can't not get off, it's going to kill me. I need life support.

"No!" I whine. He chuckles, kisses my ear lobe.

"That's right... you came to me when he started hitting on you. Such a good, sweet, loyal girl. Sitting on my lap so nicely. Making me so fucking hard..." He taunts, and I start squirming under his touch.

"Harry..." I cry out, because frankly, I can't take another second of this torture. I'm about to implode if he doesn't touch me where I need it between now and twenty seconds.

"What is it sugar?" I can quite literally hear his grin and I groan at the irritating pet name. I grab his arm and try to get out from under his touch, but his grip only tightens on me and he pulls me back into him, cock pressed against my ass. He hums disapprovingly.

"No, feel what you did to me." He leans over to look at me and when our eyes catch, I think my heart malfunctions. "'S not very nice, now is it?"

I shake my head, biting my lip nervously. His eyes dart from mine to my mouth as he breaths out a 'fuck', and he wipes some hair out of my face with his free hand.

He pulls his body away from mine and for a moment I feel like I could cry, but he distracts me by laying me on my back and throwing the sheets off our bodies. He then quickly slips his hand in my pants, grazing his fingers over my underwear.

I look at him, desperately waiting for his next move while he studies my body with a light frown. My eyes go to his sweatpants, and see the straining bulge that hides in it. I go to touch him, offer him some release too but he swats my hand away. The stern look on his face gives me shivers.

"I didn't say you could touch me, now did I?" He states, rubbing his middle finger over my clit, and I curse my underwear for being the only thing that stands in the way of his real touch. Nevertheless, I moan, because he could literally blow on my underwear and I would come right then and there.

"'M sorry." I say softly, shifting when Harry starts to pull down my shorts and underwear. He inspects me, or at least that's what it looks like, and a grin grows on his face.

"I think you'll make it up to me just fine." He beams and starts to circle my clit, causing my hips to shoot up in surprise. He chuckles softly.

"Does that feel good, baby?" He asks and I nod immediately. My eyes begin to feel heavy and I don't know for how much longer I will be able to keep going.

"Harry, slow down or I'm gonna..." I can't get the sentence out because he only starts rubbing faster, and my eyes shut permanently.

"Yeah? You gonna come for me already?" Harry taunts, and I bite my lip to steady the volume of the moans that are leaving my mouth.

"Ah! Oh my– Harry!" I try to sound angry but it's really just me moaning his name very aggressively and the realization that it's his fingers on my clit right now is what sends me over the edge. The explosion feels overdue, and it washes away all the unnecessary tension I'd been feeling since I started fake dating Harry. And now I realized; it was probably sexual frustration.

I close my eyes, trying to control my breathing as well as I possibly can. My legs are shaking and I can feel Harry hovering over me. His body heat warms my cheeks as he hangs over me, leaning on the bed with one arm, holding my face with the other.

"Open your eyes baby." He says softly, and it makes my heart flutter. I am in deep, deep trouble. I do as he says, my eyes meeting his, and the smile on his face makes me feel like I'll melt through the bed.

"You okay?" He asks, stroking my cheek. I nod, head still woozy but not wanting us to stop any time soon.

"I'm okay." I give him verbal confirmation, knowing it's what he needs from me. He kisses my temple, whispers 'good girl' in my ear and moves away from my face.

As soon as I have my breathing a bit under control, my hands reach for his sweatpants, but he Harry grabs my wrists and pushes me away. I frown, and I have to admit that my ego is a bit hurt. I feel like he can see it in my face, because he is quick to explain.

“Believe me I would love to, but another night, okay? Tonight was just for you.”

I can quite literally feel my entire body melt at his words, and it doesn’t help when he gets off the bed and helps me up so I can go to the bathroom.

After I’m done and enter the room again, he is sat up straight at the edge of the bed, and looks at me expectantly. I shoot him an awkward smile and get back into bed. He does the same and we lay silently in the dark for a while.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to…?” I can’t help but ask, feeling like I should return the favor, and still insecure about the fact that he doesn’t want me to.

“Patience, sugar.” He says lowly, and my heart thuds at the kiss I feel being planted on my forehead. The amount of calm I feel is unmatched, and it makes me very sleepy.

“Whatever you say, hot stuff…”

Part 3

#harry styles #fanfic #writing #smut #blurb #fanfiction #harry #one shot smut #one shot #smutty #enemies to lovers

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fernsnailz · 1 month

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i'm sure that you get asks like this a lot so i apologize if i'm beating a dead horse to the ground LOL but for someone who owns an online shop, do you have any tips for beginners just starting off / looking into starting one? not really asking for anything specific, but just rather anything you'd be willing to share based off your experience...!

OOF okay so there's quite a lot that goes into running an online shop, so best general advice i can give is to do your research! there's a lot to an art shop that you need to consider and understand before running into things. sometimes it's a bit hard to figure out where to start your research though, so here are the biggest things i think you should look into first:

manufacturing your stuff: some artists hand make merch at home, but if you don't have the means to do that then you'll need to find places that can manufacture your designs for you. like if you're making stickers, look into custom sticker printing sites like StickerApp or Sticky Brand. a lot of manufacturers will have sample packs you can order for free to get a better idea of what their items are like.

shop hosting websites: figuring out where to actually host your shop and sell your art is very important - my shop is through Big Cartel which i really like, but isn't for everyone. other shop hosting sites include Shopify and Etsy, and Shopify is sorta similar to BigCartel from what i know? Etsy is very different, selling through Etsy means your stuff will be easier for people to find through the Etsy search function (BigCartel and Shopify don't have this, any traffic you get will have to come from off-site and you'll have to advertise the shit outta it). HOWEVER Etsy has some pretty bad practices when it comes to how they treat the artists that sell on there. most people i know that use/used Etsy have been burned by them in some way, so be warned.

money stuff (accounting, budgeting, taxes): LEARN HOW TO MAKE SPREADSHEETS!! spreadsheets with just a few simple addition/subtraction formulas will be a huge help when it comes to budgeting and keeping track of your expenses - and you'll need to keep track of ALL your expenses! taxes can also be tricky, most shop hosting websites will collect sales tax for you but do some research on what freelance/small business taxes look like in your country.

shipping: the two main aspects to shipping are your shipping supplies and shipping labels. you'll want to find mailers that fit and protect whatever art you're selling, and tbh the best way i figured this out was from buying from other artists and seeing how they packaged their stuff! shipping labels are their own beast - some sites like Etsy will make them for you, but not BigCartel. i use a site called Pirate Ship to import BigCartel orders and buy shipping labels for them.

thats about all i got for now, running an online art shop is very hard not gonna lie!! but it's very fun and rewarding to make your own funny items :] best of luck to ya!!

#fernasks

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emeraldgreenbeautiesstu · 4 months

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MATT X READER PLS.

Then book shopping n it’s all cute n stuff 😻😻‼️

Bernard's & Noble

(see what i did there)

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Word count: 749

Alexis speaks! : hey guys! thank you for the request (the more requests, the more stories i post 😉) i'm honestly not very proud of this one, but i've deleted it four times already and this is the best i got 💀 once again, comments and likes are greatly appreciated, it helps me know if yall like my style or if i need to change anything! pls don't steal my work, love yall!

"Matttt?" i whined from my spot on the floor. i was bored out of my fucking mind. Matt wanted the day to be a 'lazy day' and by that he means he wanted to scroll social media and youtube all day. that was not my idea of fun, i've always been a hands on person whether that be going outside for hours, to the lake, reading, anything other than being lazy at home.

"whattttt?" he mocked, sitting up from his bed, his hair all messed up and funny looking.

i chuckled. "your hair looks great." i smiled, climbing to straddle his lap and fix his bed head. "better" i smiled, kissing him on the cheek. "i have a business proposal."

matt sighed, "what do you want." he rolled his eyes with a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

i hopped off him, standing at the foot of his bed. "i vote we go to barnes and noble today, my book case is baren." i joked. four out of the five of my bookshelves were full completely. but you can never have too many books.

"y/n you have more books than i think i've ever seen anywhere else in my life." he laughed. matt pretended to be annoyed, but he knows the answer is yes. and not just to this scenario, the answer is always yes to everything y/n wants. she had him wrapped around her tiny little finger. "when do you want to go?" he gave in.

i jumped around the room a couple times, silently celebrated with myself. "right now silly." i said. i trotted into his bathroom where i have my own drawer of toiletries and such. i touched up my makeup and threw on my shoes. "ok i'm ready." i beamed up at him. matt basically towered over me. he's 5'8 and i'm 5'3, so there's a pretty noticeable height difference.

he slipped his own shoes on. "i'm ready." he smiled, grabbing his keys.

i just looked at him. "matt babe." i looked at his outfit. "we are not going anywhere when you are wearing basketball shorts and a wife beater. please change." i said, false seriousness evident on my features.

"oh my god i'm literally gonna shit my pants i love barnes and noble." i said, climbing out of the passenger seat. I made matt carry my three tote bags i have designated for my favorite hobby, book shopping.

"do i really have to come in." matt complained.

we had been at barnes and noble for an hour already, two out of the three of my tote bags were full. so full we had to put them by checkout because they were too heavy to carry. About 15 minutes in i had made a joke that i thought was hilarious, matt didn't really think so.

"haha, bernard's and noble." i chuckled to myself, but matt heard me.

"y/n i swear to god i will leave you here."

"deal."

i was finally ready to go, the final tote bag full. i couldn't find matt though. i wandered through the multiple sections of books, matt no where in sight. "maybe he did leave me here." i mumbled under my breath. until my eye caught matt. he was crouched down, one hand on the shelf, the other hand occupied with a book.

"whatchya readin?" i smiled over him. my heart melted when he looked up at me, a small smile on his face. i took this time to take in his beauty. the way his slight curls fell over his eyebrows, the way his middle part accentuated his face shape, the way his blue eyes went so well with his outfit. he was wearing the white shirt with 'whatever' in bold print written across it, and baggy light wash blue jeans, his keys dangling from his belt loop.

"some poetry book, i might get it it's kinda fire." he smiled.

"you read poetry?"

"i like finding the good ones and printing them out, i like to look back on the really influential ones." matt said. he stood up and took my bag, his hand resting on the small of my back.

"matt i don't deserve you, you're so sweet." a cheesy grin creeping onto my lips.

"y/n you deserve the world." he smiled down at me, kissing my forehead.

"ok now how are we gonna get all of these in the car?" i laughed.

tag list!

@cupidzsq

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #books and reading #book shop #shopping #barnes and noble

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petersbaby · 1 year

Text

Library - Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: Slight perv!eddie, fingering, choking. This one is pretty tame

A/N: I wanted to remind everyone that I take donations/tips and the kofi is linked in my pinned post! Your girl is lowkey struggling right now and it would mean the world. Obviously you don’t have to, but it’s there if you’re feeling generous. <3

You had strict parents. That’s how you ended up here, tucked away in a corner of your local library after school with Eddie. You loved him, of course, you thought he was a good person when you put aside all the annoying shit he does.

Your parents, though, not so much. He’s pretty much a textbook “bad boy,” not the kind of person they would want you to be hanging out with. They only knew about him what they had heard; the rumors.

When Eddie asked you to help him with a class he was failing because it was your best subject, you couldn’t invite him over. This was the meeting point. You had agreed, because you really did want to see him graduate. And possibly because he smokes you out from time to time free of charge.

You had a nice little friendship going, it was just one that not many people were aware of. You kind of liked the privacy, but you knew it must feel shitty on his end because he gets judged and therefore so does whoever he associates with. The library wasn’t busy, it was surprisingly vacant.

You two sat together at a table, side by side, close. Chairs pulled up next to each other and all kinds of stuff scattered across the surface of the table. Notebooks, a textbook, printed sheets, flash cards, the whole nine yards. He was overwhelmed but trying to stay still and pay attention.

You read to him aloud from the textbook as if he were a child who couldn’t read, but all he could think about was how good you smelled and how pretty your eyelashes were and the holes in the jeans you wore.

You finished reading a paragraph.

“Okay, write that down. That’s 100% going to be on the test, so it’s important.”

You pick up the pencil and hand it to him, as the notebook with messily scrawled out notes sat in front of him. He just stares at it. He doesn’t even take the pencil.

“I uhh, I’m really sorry but I didn’t catch any of that. Could you read it again?”

You take a deep breath in and out, trying to be patient. He never could focus.

“I will, but listen this time. Seriously.”

“Okay, okay.” He nods, and you return to the book.

Your skin looked so soft, he could find out if it actually was as soft as it looked so easily. He could just reach down and touch your leg, so fucking easy.

This time, halfway through the passage, you check to make sure he’s not spacing out, and he is. Just this time, instead of his gaze staring into something off in the distance, it was on you.

You stop speaking and just look at him til he notices you stopped. It takes him a minute, but the lack of your voice in his ears brings him to look up at you, confused.

“What? Why’d you stop?”

“Because you don’t look like you’re listening to me.”

“I’m *totally* listening. You’re talking about the uh… the American revolution.”

“French. The French revolution.”

“Right, yeah, that’s what I meant.”

You sigh and put your hand on your face.

“You need to be on medication, eds, you have ADHD.”

“It’s not… listen, you just look… you look very pretty. Can’t stop looking at you.”

You have to fight off the smile that tries to spread across your face, ears and cheeks heating up.

“Thank you. But look at the book, not me.”

“UGH. I can’t. I need an ugly tutor, then I’d be able to concentrate.”

“Quit.” You say softly, squirming in your seat at the compliments he’s giving you. He makes you nervous, but in a good way. It’s hard to explain.

“I’ve got an idea. Okay?”

“Mhm.”

“You wanna kiss me?”

Now it was his turn to blush a little bit. He’s nervous now in that exact same way, same way as you. There was obviously some tension there in the friendship that you knew about and felt, you knew he had a thing for you, at least to some degree. Maybe you did for him, too. A little.

“Fuck yes.”

“Do your work, and you can. Only after.”

“Okay, I think I got everything done for today. Am I finished?” He asks, wanting to finally put the pencil down. His hand hurt.

“For today.” You emphasize. “You’re still really behind.”

He fixes his eyes on your soft lips, just wondering what they taste like. You catch this fascination.

“Alright,” you sigh, turning to face him, “go ahead.”

You had to act like this was an inconvenience for you, like it wasn’t EXACTLY what you wanted too. He places his right hand on your face, softly holding it and pressing his lips against yours, and it quite literally takes your breath away.

It lasts for what feels like forever, neither one of you pulling away. In fact, instead of pulling apart, you become even more intertwined.

You deepen the kiss, your hand coming up to caress his face as well. You focused on the way his stubble felt beneath your touch, and the way all you smelled was aftershave and smoke.

You take his bottom lip between your teeth, biting down on it just a little bit, pulling, then letting it fall back into place. Your tongue runs across it to both soothe the nip but to also request access into his mouth, which is immediately granted.

As the kiss-turned-make out session went on, his hand fell down to your neck, feeling the warm and sensitive skin there. He doesn’t know why, he doesn’t know why he feels the need to do this, but he experimentally wrap his big, rough hand around your throat.

No pressure, just placing it there. It was almost absentmindedly, and he didn’t think much of the gesture. You get annoyed by it, though, and place your hand over his, squeezing it for him.

“Fuck, you like that?” He mutters quietly.

“Shut up.” You kiss him again.

He squeezes the sides of your throat with just the right amount of intoxicating pressure while your tongues explore each other’s mouths.

‘Wait,’ you thought, and pulled away from him. You look all around the area, scanning for people. You forgot where you were, just for a minute there.

“There’s nobody here.” He whispers, assuring you after seeing your slightly panicked expression. You then look up at the ceiling.

“No cameras either. You think the town has enough money for all that shit?” He reads your mind, and you relax.

“Unbutton these jeans for me, yeah?”

You don’t know where this is going, but you oblige. Just something about him made you want to do everything he asked.

He kisses you again, hand trailing down your body til they dip into your pants. He rubs circles over your clit on top of your panties, and you gasp softly at the sudden feeling.

You tried your best to keep consistently kissing him back and hold it together, but then his hand finds it’s way into your panties too.

“Holy shit.” He comments, simply, to himself and against your lips.

You can guess that you’re probably embarrassingly wet and that that is what he’s just discovered. He easily slips in his middle finger, effortlessly, and you gasp.

You also spread your legs to make it a bit easier for him. This was so gross, so illegal, but so good. You couldn’t stop even if you wanted to.

Your tongues dance together, occasionally fighting for dominance, lips both covered in saliva from one another. He gently pushes his one finger in and out of you, trying not to get too eager and overwhelm you.

But once you started seemingly trying to grind against his hand, he adds in another digit. You pant against his lips as he curls them inside you, as deep as the can go, scissoring them against your walls.

“Oh, god, Eddie,” you say in a whisper, more of a quiet whine than anything.

“Shhh.” He soothes, covering your mouth with his own, not letting up. In fact, they got faster, his thick calloused fingers.

You were gonna cum. You were gonna cum? In the library, with people in the building? Yeah, you had to. It was unavoidable and you weren’t able and didn’t have the time to say anything, but he could tell by the way you clenched around him and the way you were struggling to kiss him back.

“Yeah? Just be quiet.” He whispers.

You just nod your head breathlessly. When it hits you, it really hits you, and if you were alone you would absolutely scream. You can’t, and you know that, so your first idea is to cover your hand over your own mouth tightly to stifle any noise.

“Good girl, that’s a good girl.” He continues to whisper as you ride it out.

You take your hand away, trying to catch your breath and breathe like a normal person again. He removes his hand too, and you quickly go to zip and button your jeans again, straightening yourself out.

“Jesus Christ.” You half-chuckle, in disbelief at how far things went.

“To thank you. For helping me.” He explains.

“And maybe to convince you to do it again tomorrow? I know I’m hard to teach but I promise I’ll behave.”

“Of course.” You say, as if it were a given.

“You’re a really sweet girl, you know that?” He smiles.

“Whatever.” You jokingly roll your eyes, smiling a little too. You getting up to collect all your things, and he helps you put the stuff into your backpack.

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x fem reader #perv eddie #perv!eddie #eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson smut

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ghostly-penumbra · 1 year

Text

DannyMay 2023. Day Twenty-seven

“Rings”

Ao3

Summary: Danny and Death talk, in a mostly official capacity.

- - -

Danny swung his legs back and forth, restless as he sat on the railing o his balcony in Pariah’s- his castle, Danny’s, the King’s.

Clockwork had told him he would meet someone here, and that he better be dressed the part of the King. He had said it with a smile, though, and eased Danny’s worry.

But since he couldn’t just be mysterious and also had to be cryptic, he had then said it was someone Danny had already met, twice.

Prodding and asking got him nowhere after that so Danny dropped it and got ready, wearing his galaxy-print cape (with accurate, moving stars!), the Ring of Rage in hand and the Crown o Fire resting atop his head, its flames licking the air with a constant, soothing crackling.

“Hey, you waited for me!”

Danny turned around and had to blink to clear his eyes, because for a second he thought Sam was here but- no, this wasn’t Sam at all.

“Usually it’s the other way around.” Said the- girl? Woman? Said the goth, because that she was, wearing an all-black outfit from combat boots to top hat and umbrella (maybe it was raining where she had been?), along with what Danny was sure was an Egyptian symbol on her left eye and another that she wore in a collar hanging on her chest.

“Oh, uh, hi. You are- the person Clockwork told me about?” Danny said, and couldn’t help but make it a question at the end.

“Yes, Danny, that’s me.” She said simply, and didn’t elaborate only smiled at him some more.

Danny looked at her for a few more, awkward seconds, and then-

“Ah.” He gaped at her as recognition swept through him. A steady, unmoving presence, a soothing, kind voice that calmed him down even as he was torn apart, a hand taking his, ready to welcome him, except-

Except.

“Hey…” He greeted her anew.

“Hey.” Death answered.

“Uh, so… I don’t mean to be rude or anything,” Danny started after a bit of small talk. Death had joined him in the railing, picking a purple flower and adorning her hair with it, “but, well Clockwork told me to ‘dress the part’ as King, so I don’t think this is just a social visit, right?”

Death chuckled at him, “You’re right, dad didn’t just call us here to become friends, even if it’s nice to see you again.”

“Your dad called? But it was Clockw- gramps is a father?!” Danny exclaimed, shocked into using the nickname –the title, really– that he reserved for the privacy of his mind and Clockwork’s lair. “But that means-” His eyes widened like saucer and he felt his jaw drop in horror.

“I see you have connected the dots.” Death said, clearly amused.

“I didn’t connect shit!” Danny hurried to say, mortified and blushing a vibrant green. “In fact! I am autistic, which, in case you don’t know, is a learning disability which makes it entirely possible for me to not have figured anything out about my grandpa that could potentially change the way I see him- stop laughing!”

What had started as repressed giggles had turned into joyful cackles and Death’s smile split her face in half.

“We have business to attend! Royal duty! Formal stuff!”

“Sorry, sorry! It’s just-” Death put a hand on her mouth and calmed herself down with effort. “But you’re right, we should get back in track. Can you show me your ring?”

The change in topic, though appreciated, was so sudden that Danny could only obey bringing his left hand up and staring at the red, angry skull sitting on his finger.

“Do you know the history of this ring, Phantom?” She asked, taking his hand in both of hers.

“Not really, no.” The halfa admitted. “Grandpa- I mean, Clockwork has taught me some stuff, but there’s, like, a lot of stuff he says he still has to teach me.”

“Does he now?” Death said in a tone Danny couldn’t decipher, but when he turned to look at her, she had gotten her amicable expression back in place. “Your ring is a gift.” She finally started. “It used to be mine, one of my tools of office, actually, made to command straggling ghosts that wanted to find their way, and help them move on.

“I gave it to the first Ruler of the Ghost Zone, to officially turn that tear in between realities where souls sought refuge into a proper Afterlife, and end the war between pantheons that wanted it for themselves.”

Danny was paying rapt attention, leaning in closer to Death like a moth to a flame. He had never heard of this; Clockwork had not only been teaching Danny about history, but had sent him on adventures missions across time to gain experience he wouldn’t get in Amity Park, and grandpa was like, very old, so he knew a lot of history and had been there for all of it, so Danny wasn’t surprised he hadn’t been told about this yet; did Pandora know about this, though? Had her pantheon been one of those at war? How long ago had this been? If so, how or why was she here?

Unfortunately, Death didn’t seem about to enter into many details.

“With it, ghosts were allowed to rule over themselves as they saw fit, with no god to oversee them, and the war was over.”

Yeah, he would have to ask grandpa about this.

“That’s… cool. Um, thanks! Really…” Danny stuttered, placing a hand on his nape. “Ah, so…” He didn’t know what she was getting at. “Do you… want it back?” He asked, unsure.

“No, Danny, it’s a gift and it’s now yours.” Death smiled at him kindly. “I’m here to help you with it, actually. May I?”

Nervously, Danny nodded, and Death lifted his hand with hers, and touched the Ring of Rage; Danny saw the skull glow blood red the moment she did, enveloping their joined hands in its eerie light.

“Pariah Dark corrupted it, not long after he took the throne.” Death kept explaining. “Rather than motivate and lead the ghosts, he wanted to control them, bind them to his will.

“That wasn’t the ring’s purpose, I didn’t give it that purpose, so Pariah couldn’t completely overpower it, and instead he let it be a- transmitter for his rage, to make it be felt, to frighten other ghosts into obeying. You have felt it, haven’t you?”

Danny thought of the first time he had put on the Ring, of the furious growl that had reverberated through his head his bones, his core, pushing, demanding something it couldn’t word, its name just out of reach.

Although it wasn’t lie Danny had tried to help it reach out, either. And he now suspected where it had tried to reach.

A sealed sarcophagus.

“It’s annoying.” He said bluntly. “It’s bothersome and insistent and I already said no, but it keeps on pushing and, honestly, I have been seconds away from chunking it into the sun.”

Death chuckled softly and, finally, covered his hand in both of hers. “That’s what I’m here for.” She clutched at his hands in a tither –yet painless– grip, and the light that filtered through their fingers slowly dimmed out and died.

When she opened her hands again, in Danny’s finger rested an obsidian-black gem with only one reflective face that showed Danny’s own.

Through its serene silence, Danny could feel all the denizens of the Zone, ready and waiting to be rallied around a common cause.

- - -

lmao this is funny to me because the "Clocwork is Father Time (of the Endless)" is a thing I've talekd about in the dp server, but only recently did i board the headcanon "he is an awful father, but an amazing grandfather", which is the characterization i've given him here

he loves his adopted grandson so much that he'll deal with his annoying children for him! asdfghjjklñ that's so awful!

i'll be posting this separate once i finish the event

#DannyMay 2023 #DannyMay2023 #dannymay #Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Ghost King Danny #ghost king au #ghostly-scrypts #Death of the Endless #The Sandman #day twenty-seven #rings #CrossOver

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lxlith-aftxn-cos · 9 months

Text

!CALL OF DUTY FANS!

PSA ABOUT SAMUEL ROUKIN'S STREAM BECAUSE THIS NEEDS TO BE HEARD!

Honestly, it makes me so upset that Samuel Roukin's stream was filled with people saying the most nasty things about him in the chat. Ghost's voice actor, Samuel, was doing a print signing stream on his Instagram. Meanwhile, some people are saying, "I want him to vi0lat3 me." And "I want to sniff his toes." Saying that you want him to vi0lat3 you can make him very uncomfortable and no wonder why he doesn't use Tiktok. Good God.

He sounds so happy just doing these prints, but these comments aren't it. I was trying to ask about the coffee he was drinking, and these comments saying "I want him to r4p3 me!" Is flooding me out. Nobody wants to hear you talk nasty about him. I feel so bad for Samuel having to deal with this BS. He is being harassed and it makes me sick. Normally, he would like the comments under his live posts, and this time, he didn't. Samuel isn't here to seduce you. This can mentally damage him.

He even had his own family member watching his stream. I wonder how she felt seeing these comments about her own cousin being treated like this. This could make his family members uncomfortable, too. If he was my family member, for instance, my father. I would be so uncomfortable reading these gross comments, perceiving him as someone who doesn't have emotions or feelings. A majority of his fans are uncomfortable with these comments, not a few.

Remember that what you're saying can make him uncomfortable and mentally damaged. He is a human at the end of the day. He is just a normal person. Samuel is a nice person who cares so much about his fans, yet they decide to treat him this way. He is being so generous by signing prints, as you guys say the most disgusting shit like this. Who the actual fuck says "No threesome today😔" because Barry is too busy to join, what the fuck. I understand that Samuel is attractive and handsome, but keep your fantasies to yourself. His chat is not anywhere to be discussing this. He is reading everything you are saying.

Samuel is not Ghost. in reality, he is just the voice actor and motion capture for Ghost. I am a Ghost fanboy. Don't get me wrong. But I keep my fantasies to myself and to my friends, Samuel doesn't want to hear you ramble about wanting him to dominate you. Plus, he is married with a wife and kids. He doesn't want you. Treat others how you'd like to be treated with respect. Respect his damn boundaries for fucks sake. If I were that into Samuel, I wouldn't say that stuff in his live chat. It's so sickening how this even happened in the first place.

At the end of the day, we should all learn to respect the COD actors' boundaries and acknowledge their feelings. Please keep your fantasies to yourself and your friends, not to him. Please respect them and treat them as you want to be treated.

For the love of God, please repost this to spread the message!

Thank you for reading! - Miller

#call of duty #mw2 2022 #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty mw3 #samuel roukin

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spicymaruchancontajin · 9 months

Text

Tom kaulitz x reader

ok I’m finally being able to work on this sorry it took me so long it was my birthday and I was busy 😭

p.s i put in that you have glossy red lipstick it important for the story sorry it can be anything shade of red 👍

update: i fixed some stuff lmk if I’m missing anything

˚✧₊⁎⁎⁺˳✧༚˚✧₊⁎⁎⁺˳✧༚˚✧₊⁎⁎⁺˳✧༚˚✧₊⁎⁎⁺˳✧༚˚✧₊⁎⁎⁺˳✧༚

It was right after your concert and you had to go to a fancy party right after but fans crowded you as you went to say hi. You got ready as fast as you could as the cosmetics lady’s doll you up. You put on a (color) dress and shiny (color) high heels. You and your band where so late you practically ran to the party. “Jesus Christ there was so many people”

You sighed exhaustedly. Your band was in a limo driving to the party bacicly speeding to get there in time. “I liked it but everyone was so pushy “can I get your number” “ Leave your girlfriend for me”” Rein mocked his fans as the rest of the band laughed. “Oh god lets just hope they don’t follow us”. You finally arrive as cameras flashing as your car pulled up to the stairs. You and your band are practically blinded by the light as you pretend like you where just in a rush. People yelled at you for interviews or to look at their camera the only thing you could think is how ANOYING. Finally your inside your eyes getting their break from being blinded by a dozen cameras in your face. People chatting and drinking or sitting around how boring but you had to be there. You leave your band and go get a drink and something small to eat. Just as you grab the drink something or someone catches your eye. He was wearing baggy jeans and a overly sized t shirt. What the fuck how unfair you could be wearing some like that I mean everyone else was dressed for the occasion what the hell happened to him. You didn’t mind it that much and just left for the snack table. “I like these ones better” his thick accent hits your ears as you had reached for something. You look over your eyes scanning him, it was the same guy with oversized jeans and t-shirt. He grabbed the small snack eating it as he checked you out. “ mmm” you hummed as you reached over grabbing the food and popping it into your mouth with out a thought. “ Dam these are good” “I told you” you continue to eat with him fighting over who gets more. He had gotten the last one and threw it into his mouth. “Whatever” you say with a smile as he just smirks chewing. “So what do you do anyway” his voice drowning out everything else “well I’m [singer, drummer, etc] in [band name]” he nodded in acknowledgement “what about you” “I’m a guitarists in Tokio hotel” “Oooo you big?” “in both ways yeah” his was voice smug and confident. You did get it a first but eventually resized what he said. “*gasp*ohh not like that” you looked at him as he laughed his eyes going to the floor. “What about you?” He chuckled “umm we are big but not super big you know” “oh ok” there was a bit of nervous silence between you after that question. “You from around here?” “No I’m from Germany you” “Oooo cuteee I’m from [where your from]” “ahh how nice” “yeah” you look around the room a see your band members calling you over frantically as if to meet some on “oh shit I gota go” “oh… how about I get your number?” “Oh yeah hold on” you grab a pen and napkin from the table and write your number and your name but before you give it to him you kiss the napkin leaving a glossy red lip print. You hand it over and wink before rushing over to your members smiling. You didn’t even know if he was into you like that but why not take the chance. He had put it in his wallet anyway taking out veras other numbers and leave them stranded on table just to have yours only plus you got to meet lady Gaga.

˚✧₊⁎⁎⁺˳✧༚˚✧₊⁎⁎⁺˳✧༚˚✧₊⁎⁎⁺˳✧༚˚✧₊⁎⁎⁺˳✧༚˚✧₊⁎⁎⁺˳✧༚

help free me from school guys 😭 I have been so busy I’m so sorry this took so long I’ll try not to take long next time 😭

anyway hope you like it and tell me if there is any errors or anything like that and I finally figured out how to do the keep reading thing 😍

Maru out 💋

#Tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz #free me from school #Tom kaulitz is so hot 😍#He’s my boo💋#tokio hotel #Tom #kaulitz

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gutwrenchflowerbomb · 3 months

Text

There’s a longer post about my current situation but I know TL;DR is real so I’ll do the good thing first: I’ve designed a notepad! I’ll be making the sample/test/prototype this week as I’m waiting for some supplies to get here.

It’s a design that I basically made for myself, as I love wrestling AND penguins. I might do some variants with some other cute animals like kitties or frogs or something. If it comes out the way I hope, I’ll have it listed this weekend.

I’ve been in a weird headspace. Losing my job and having to move in with my mom was not on the list of things I expected to happen. But that’s life.

I found a job, I’ve been hired to be a “rewind operator” at a printing company. They print a lot of things but mostly it seems to be labels and packaging from small business labels to 100s of thousands of labels for big name brands. It’s a position I have no experience in, a fact I told the managers during my interview. But I also told them why I applied : I thought it sounded interesting, it’s a pretty stable industry, it provides a steady work schedule (no on call shit) and it would be much less emotionally taxing than my previous position. I said “the closest thing to experience I have is that I print and cut my own little craft stuff at home.”

Well, I guess they liked my attitude or my candor or both, cuz they offered me the position. I start next week.

This lack of direction and work and purpose or whatever has been the worst. I’ve felt like I’ve been just floating in jello. I’ve been trying to do some designing but I don’t have my own space to really do it the way I’ve been used to.

Despite that, I’ve created a bunch of new designs for stickers, buttons and keychains. Not just wrestling related either. I’ll be posting those later when I get out of my funk.

#Gutwrench Flowerbomb #my designs #my store #wrestling #penguins #paper craft #stationery #homemade products #I don’t have what other tags to put #small business #crafts

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 7 months

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Okay okay last ask I swear 😅 less and ask and more of a rambling thought that you don't have to answer but the fact that enemies to lovers isn't crossed out like enemies to lovers owns my heart so much I'm offended on it's behalf! 😅

OH FUCK A ROYALTY AU TOO??

Can I get a lil snip of her maybe? 🥺

Listen, I dunno what's going on with both the enemies to lovers and the stobin prompts. I feel like I should be able to write something there but so far my brain is all white static. 😂 Do feel free to throw inspo at me, is what I'm saying.

Anywhoozle, one Royalty AU snippet, coming right up!

"So, tommorow…" Chrissy says from behind the folder they've been provided. It looks so posh with its dark green binding, the royal sigil embossed on it in gold print. Eddie hates it. It probably thinks it's so much better than the other folders. "When you're introduced to Prince Steven, you're to address him as Your Royal Highness. After that, you call him Sir." "What, really? Dude, at least buy me dinner before we start with the kinky shit." Chrissy shoves his feet off the desk, which almost makes him topple off his chair. "Can you take this seriously? A royal visit is an important matter. We can certainly use the publicity-" Eddie's hand crashes down on the desk. "I'm a fucking rockstar, Chris. That ain't enough publicity? This place is my baby, mine. What does that royal asshole know about what it's like to have a rough childhood? He thinks he can come here, give a little speech, smile for the cameras, and suddenly it's all about him?" "What, now you care?" He whirls on her, but the look she gives him makes him freeze. Chrissy sighs. "Eds, you are so busy with the new album and the tour, you haven't even met the new volunteers. I said I'd manage the place, and that's fine. But you must trust me. Just do it for me. Please?"

I'm rambling about the @steddieholidaydrabbles - ask me stuff!

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #steddie fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #steddieholidaydrabbles #asks and replies

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sunlightmurdock · 2 years

Text

Baby, Now That I’ve Found You | Trouble in Paradise | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Drabble Masterlist

Synopsis: Bradley helps you close up after a long shift and teaches you the words to one of his favourite songs. Takes place between Chapters 4-6 (somewhere in that time range).

Warnings: 1.6kish words, allusions to sex at the end, this one is pure fluff but warnings for the regular fic still apply and can be found on the Masterlist <3

…

You look up, lips quirking softly at the sides to keep from beaming at him. These surprise visits are becoming more frequent, him showing up whenever he’s got a spare moment, passing through those doors and grinning at you.

Only now, he’s stuck on the other side of them. He taps the glass with his knuckle once more, presses his hands together in a prayer-like motion, then points to the lock.

“Go away, we’re closed.” You call playfully to him. Rooster juts his bottom lip out just slightly, putting those puppy-dog eyes to use as he frowns dramatically to you on the other side of the glass. You laugh softly, grabbing the keys from the top of the bar.

It’s a weekday night, Rooster had been waiting to hear from you. You were supposed to finish at six, it’s now eleven-thirty, half an hour after closing.

Rooster stands back as you unlock one side of the door and pull it open.

“Hey, sailor.” You grin, pressing your tongue to your cheek. He smiles, then leans in and kisses you softly.

“Hey, baby. I thought you were supposed to be finished already?” He asks, wrapping an arm around you to keep you close to him. Shit, you had forgotten. You were supposed to text him when you were done.

“Yeah, Zoe called in sick - I have to stay and close up, I’m sorry.” You hug him back. He pulls back and looks at you, shrugging his shoulders.

“I can wait.”

“No, Rooster - I have tons to do, I’m going to be a couple of hours at least. It’s just been me today.” You rationalize. The two of you get along great, but Abi would kill you if she came in tomorrow morning and you hadn’t gotten everything finished.

The place is a mess, you’re almost completely out of clean glasses, the chairs haven’t been stacked, the floors have to be mopped —

“Sounds like you could do with a hand.” Rooster steps past you, kissing the top of your head and continuing into the bar.

“You don’t have to.”

“You’ll be done faster if I do, plus this way I get to hang out with you.” He’s already shrugging off his Hawaiian printed over shirt and draping it across the back of a chair, leaving him in a plain white crew-neck t-shirt.

You stare after him as he immediately gets to work collecting glasses that have been left around. You smile softly, busying yourself with filling the dishwasher for the first time all afternoon.

“Sorry that it’s so quiet, I’d connect with the speaker but my phone’s charging in the back.” You explain, setting glasses down.

“You can connect mine. Any playlist is fine, my passcode is 1984.”

“You were born in…?” He turns his head towards you and raises his eyebrows slightly. You smile sweetly as he passes you his phone. “Never mind.”

You connect his phone to the speaker. He’s got a couple of different playlists. Gym mix, 70s stuff, wind down music. You select a playlist titled favorites, setting his phone down on the counter.

Rooster collects all of the glasses. You periodically run and empty the dishwasher, putting the chairs up on the tables while he cleans and covers the beer taps, under your guidance.

His music shuffles through the playlist, him humming softly to songs. You do work faster with him here, and it’s nice having the company. He’s actualily very helpful.

He mops while you finish off putting the glasses away, the music changes to an upbeat sounding song. You scrunch your nose slightly at it. It isn’t exactly what you’d listen to. None of his music is.

Rooster’s oblivious, swaying and nodding his head to the beat as he mops the floor like it’s actually his job to do so.

“Baby,” He sings out, moving his body to the music as he guides the mop over the wooden floor, “Now that I’ve found you, I can’t let you go, I’ll build my world around you.”

You lift the tray out of the dishwasher and set it on the side, your eyes on him as he dances to the song.

“I need you so, baby,” His voice grows louder with the music. An amused chuckle slips your lips, interrupting him. He looks up and raises his brows, caught but in no way ashamed. With your eyes on him and his on you, he smiles and continues to sing, “Even though you don’t need me. You don’t neeeed me.”

“Oh my god.” You laugh, pressing a hand over your mouth. Sure, you’ve seen Rooster’s sense of humor before, glimpses of inside jokes soon to come - but you’ve never seen this side of him.

He swings the handle of the mop forwards and leans into it like it’s a microphone, continuing with the chorus, clearly enjoying that he’s entertaining his audience.

Your friends would laugh if they were here. Your ex-boyfriends would think this is ridiculous. You’ve never been with a guy that isn’t trying to act too cool for you all of the time.

This is second nature to him. He’s happy, wrapped up in the moment and doing what he always does. His mom used to sing this song around the house on Sundays when she was cleaning. He knows the words like the back of his hand.

“Spent a lifetime looking for somebody to give me love like you-ou.” Rooster sings out, looking up and finding you still laughing. He sets the mop in the bucket and leans it against the counter.

Your smile falters slightly as he lifts a hand and curls his finger, beckoning you over to him, still moving his body to the music. “Now you’ve told me that you wanna leave me.”

You’re actually quite surprised at his sense of rhythm. Of all of the things you could have guessed that he was good at, this would not have been your first guess.

He expects resistance - Amy used to get so shy about dancing with him, it took him over a year to get her to join him - and that had been alone in the kitchen.

You glass you’re holding down on the shelf and smile once more. The music hums on, he swings his hips to the percussion as you step around the bar towards him. He extends his hand, smiling as your slip yours into his palm.

It’s easy to forget how strong Rooster actually is when he’s being so gentle with you. As soon as he’s got ahold of your hand, he pulls you sharply forwards until you’re pressed against him. You gasp, stumbling for footing, but secure in his arms and by no means at risk of falling.

He wraps his arms around and looks down at you. “Baby, now that I’ve found you, I can’t let you go.” You groan playfully as he squeezes you tighter, singing the words, swaying you with him.

Rooster takes your hands and guides them around his waist, then cups your cheeks in his hands. His eyes crinkle at the sides, his grin taking over his tanned face completely as he sings to you.

“I’ll build my world around you,” He sways his hips, grinning as you move your body with his. Rooster scrunches his nose softly, shaking his head as he continues on, “I need you so.”

You stare up at him, smiling like you’re on the verge of laughing. Warm, wrapped in his arms on a summer night, on the verge of shivering and covered in goosebumps.

“Baby, even though - you don’t need me.” Rooster slides his hands down to your waist, pulling you as close as him as possible. He leans into your space, his voice is deeper than the person singing but he still sounds good over the track.

He leans back slightly, swaying his shoulders to the beat. You grin at him, amused by his moves, actually kind of impressed by his voice. Rooster slides his hands back to grab yours as the next chorus approaches.

Your lips part slightly as he takes your hand and spins you away from him. He grins. You lean back laughing, arm outstretched as he holds you there for a moment. Drenched in blue neon and soft white from the string lights overhead, your eyes shut, one hand on your stomach because you’re laughing so hard.

He’s caught in the moment for longer than it lasts, just watching you.

You squeal as he spins himself, then twirls you back in against him, your back to his chest. He kisses your cheek, wrapping his arms around your middle. He leans a fraction of his weight into your back. As close as possible, half leaning on you, singing in your ear, guiding your body to the music.

“Spent a lifetime lookin’ for somebody,” His lips graze your earlobe, making you laugh and cringe away from him, hiding your face against his arm. He kisses your jaw sweetly, “To give me love like you.”

He hums softly over the next few lines, holding you close against him as the music starts to fade out. The song finishes and he smiles to himself for a moment before you turn to face him.

You look up, staring into those sweet brown eyes. He watches you glance down. You bite your lip slightly as you look back up again. “You’re going to have to mop the floors again.”

He looks down at the wet footprints on it and chuckles. Rooster reaches out, curling his fingers around your wrist and pulling you close again, “Guess I’d better hurry up so that I can get you home, huh?”

“Sounds like it.” You lift your chin, lips quirked as he kisses you softly.

He lets you go and grabs the handle of the mop, watching you walk back behind the bar to finish up.

…

@unordinare

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#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #miles teller #trouble in paradise #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw imagine #top gun smut #bradley bradshaw x reader

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