#and i first rub soap on my body/face AND THEN lather up the cloth and start scrubbing (not hard) i feel that helps with the pain/feeling

[ultravioletlesbian]

i am very aware of people thinking shaving is the same as washing and so they dont wash their legs.

#also i read someone once say they think using washcloths are gross #bc they thought you reused dirty ones #also that it feels too rough #ive bought these packs of washcloths for like less than five bucks. i use two per shwoer one for body one for face and i never use them more #than once. two each day laundry end of week #and i first rub soap on my body/face AND THEN lather up the cloth and start scrubbing (not hard) i feel that helps with the pain/feeling #like its too rough #if anyone doesnt know that <-- #i was not taught. anything. had to learn this myself and online #my mom thinks kids are just born knowing things or some shit

[iovetecchou]

Hanging On By A Thread ⧸ Bram Stoker.𖥔 ݁ ˖

༞ Contains...! smut and partial fluff, blushy!bram, hypersensitive!bram, heavy petting, consent! handjob, fingering, unprotected sex, (please don't do this irl, this is simply fiction!), praise, begging, breeding kink, creampie, lots and lots of cum (mans has been pent up for centuries!)

Bram uses "mo chroí" as a term of endearment for the reader, which essentially translates to "my heart"

༞ AFAB Reader.

༞ 1,911 words.

kinktober masterlist!

Bram was confused, to say the least, the first time you told him you were going to take a bath.

"A bath? But, Aya told me baths are a formality taken by kings nowadays." No, she didn't, he has it all twisted...

He tilted his head in confusion as you began giggling from his unfamiliarity before enlightening him.

Once it clicked, his eyebrows darted up, eyes blown wide before he slowly asked, "Would you be so gracious as to bathe me, mo chroí? Perhaps, you could... join me? Only if you desire, of course."

Your heart damn near exploded at his request.

You made sure to make Bram's first bath experience as enjoyable as you could. Filling the tub with bubbles— making sure washcloths, soap, and a rinsing cup were in proximity.

After helping Bram strip off the articles of clothing he adorned, you ushered him into the tub. Bram like the gentleman he is, sealed his eyes shut as you undressed. Only drawing them back open when he felt you sink in beside him.

"Is the water warm enough for you, Bram?" You reached for the soap and a washcloth. Pouring a small amount of the body wash onto the towel before bringing it up to Bram's exposed chest. 

"Yes... this is quite pleasant." Bram averted his gaze, a blush adorning his pale cheeks as you washed his upper body. Your touch was gentle; pure. But his bodily reactions were far from that. You lathered his collarbones, then his chest— Bram took in a shaky breath as the cloth swiped over his nipples, before your hand trailed lower. Ducking underneath the bubbly water, beyond Bram's— and your vision. 

You hummed to yourself as you continued to wash him. Failing to realize that Bram was growing hard as the seconds ticked by. Your gaze flickered up to his face as you felt his body twitch underneath your touch. "Love, is something wrong?"

Your eyebrows knit together in concern as you awaited his response. Your hand stilled against his lean torso, allowing your palm to rest atop his limber thigh. This caused Bram to jolt even worse than before as he refused to meet your gaze. 

"Mo chroí... I apologize. It seems I have become aroused— sexually. I am ashamed to admit it, but ever since my entire body was restored... It's been hard to suppress these desires when you touch me."

You felt heat swirl in your core from his words, resisting the urge to rub your thighs together from beneath the water. However, curiosity got the best of you. Your hand, which still rested on Bram's thigh began to wander. You gasped when your fingers grazed over his length. He was painfully hard, you noted, as your hands mapped out the stretch of his shaft. 

You watched his face scrunch up in pleasure as you felt his cock twitch beneath your featherlight touches. "You don't need to apologize, my love. You should have told me sooner! I would have gladly helped you with... this." Your nimble digits wrapped around his achey length, accentuating your words. 

Bram's eyes flickered shut, taking a sharp breath through his nostrils from the electrifying touch. Each time Bram got hard since that bothersome sword was removed and his body was restored, he refused to tend to his needs. Feeling all too shameful for having such impure thoughts about you. But receiving even the tiniest morsel of pleasure, not to mention that it was coming from the subject of his desires, was pleasantly overwhelming. 

"As long as you don't mi-mind, mo chroí. I would be honored to receive your assistance in this little p-problem." Bram croaked as you experimentally rubbed your thumb over his tip. "I would hardly call this a small problem." You muttered, more so to yourself, as you slowly began moving your hand in a steady rhythm. 

Your eyes were glued to Bram's ethereal visage. Reveling in the way his eyes roll back in pleasure as deep groans slip past his lips the more you continue to stroke his cock. He was twitching and throbbing wildly beneath your grasp. You tried to swat the bubbles away with your free hand; in hopes of seeing his lengh for yourself. 

"You're so g-good at this... mo chroí. I long for more, please." Your eyes met his as Bram peeled them open. His crimson orbs pooled with lust, half-lidded and hungry for more. Your movements around his length stilled as you asked, "Could you lift your hand up for me, my love?" 

Without hesitation, he did just that. Bringing his hand up to your view and tilting his head in confusion as he deadpanned, "What's the meaning of this?" You examined his elegant fingers, a sight that was still relatively new to you. You sighed as your gaze fixated on his pointed black fingernails. "Yeah... that's not happening..." You muttered to yourself, causing Bram's confusion to skyrocket. 

"It's just... it's nothing! I'll give you more, my love, I promise. Could you be patient for me?" You beamed up at him, bringing your free hand up to caress his scarred cheek. Tucking an unruly slate piece of hair behind his pointed ear. Your other hand, that was still clamped around Bram's cock eased up. You opted for slipping your fingers between your legs instead. 

"With pleasure, mo chroí. I'd wait an eternity for you." Your heart thumbed at his comforting words, causing your smile to brighten as you toyed with your entrance. Slowly, you slipped a finger into your awaiting heat. Bram watched you intently as your face began to soften, your eyebrows relaxed; jaw falling slack as you added a second finger. "What are you doing?" Bram questioned, allowing his hand to explore underneath the water. His breath hitched as he realized what exactly you were up to. 

"So this is why you requested to observe my hands?" You wordlessly nodded yes as you continued to stretch yourself out to accomidate his length. All Bram could do was watch in fascination, bringing his hands down to grasp your waist from beneath the soapy water. This went on for a few beats before you muttered, "O-Okay... I think that's enough."

Before Bram could question you further, you were on him. Slotting yourself atop his lap, thighs straddling his as you reached down for his needy cock. His grip on your waist tightened as you spoke up. "I'm gonna put it in now, yeah?" Bram's eyes widened as he felt you seize his length once more, letting out a hiss as you rubbed his ruddy head through your slick folds. 

"Please... I beg of you, mo chroí— I need to be one with you." With that, you lined his cock up to your heat; reveling in the whine that slipped past your lover's lips as the tip of his length pushed past the tight ring of your pussy. You brought both hands up to his shoulders, bracing yourself as you took him; inch by inch. 

"Feels better than I envisioned, ah— y-you are perfection." Bram's grip on your waist tightened as you took him to the hilt. You let little whines slip past your lips as you felt him throb inside you, clenching and unclenching around his long cock as you adjusted to the fullness. "Fuck, Bram— you're so b-big!" You cried out, scoring your bottom lip with your teeth. 

"I apologize, mo chroí. The last thing I want is to bring you any discomfort." Bram blushed profusely, averting his gaze from you once more. A small chuckle coming from your lips pulled him out of his stupor as you deadpanned, "Bram, my love, that's a good— hah... g-good thing! You feel so fucking amazing..." You smirked up at him as you felt him twitch inside you from your words. 

"Oh, I see... Wait- what are you—" Bram managed to croak out before you lifted your hips, ramming yourself back down on his cock. Bram let out a breathy whine as you repeated this action over and over and over again. You rode his cock like your life depended on it, drinking in the sounds he emitted. Bram could not take his eyes off you; he was mesmerized. Tuning out the sound of water as it sloshed out of the bathtub, only focusing on you— and you alone. 

"So tight and warm... incredible..." He whispered before capturing your lips with his. Bram kissed you with great force, swirling his tongue along yours. You whined against his mouth as Bram began to lift his hips, sloppily meeting your thrusts. Your eyes rolled back the moment he began fucking up into you. The tip of his cock prodded your sweet spot perfectly each time he plunged deeper. 

You could feel the coil within your tummy unravel the more Bram unrelentingly fucked up into you. You were close, and by the way his cock pulsed from deep inside, you knew he wasn't far behind. You pulled away from his lips with a string of saliva still connecting you. "Bram... I'm close— cum with me, please? W-Want you to fill me up..." 

Bram felt like he was spinning when you uttered those words. "It would be my pleasure, mo chroí. I thought about this moment— hah, countlessly. Filling you with my seed... having you bear my children— Christ!" The recounting of his thoughts and the feeling of you suffocating his cock, proved to be too much for the demon king. He came inside you without another word. Letting out a cry of your name as he buried himself to the hilt, emptying his load inside your fluttering heat. 

"Bram— ah, c-cumming!" You cried out. The feeling of him cumming inside you, paired with his sharp nails digging into your sides, pushed you over the edge. You gushed around his cock, eyes widening as you still felt Bram's seed filling you up. His balls twitched from where they kissed the underside of your pussy. There was so much, you hardly expected him to be carrying such a heavy load. 

"S-So full!" You gasped, reeling from the aftershocks of your orgasm as Bram finally finished emptying his cum deep inside your cunt. He groaned as he pulled his hips back down, allowing himself to relax. Suddenly feeling all too aware of how cold the water had become. "Are you alright, mo chroí?" Bram whispered, bringing his hand up to soothe over your face. You leaned into his touch, allowing your eyes to flutter shut.

"More than alright! You must have been really pent-up, huh? It's probably been centuries since you last—" Bram silenced you with a chaste kiss before you could say anything more. Your hands draped around his slender throat, carding through his slate locks as you sighed into the embrace. You only pulled away when your lungs began to scream for air. 

"You came so much... you surely got me pregnant, Bram!" You meant it to be playful, but when you felt him harden inside you again almost instantly; your eyes widened. "Don't... please, don't say such crass things, mo chroí. My self-control is hanging on by a thread." You watched as Bram's crimson eyes darkened, slate eyebrows knit in concentration as he tried to compose himself. 

"What if I want that thread to snap?" You challenged, grounding your hips down against his stiff cock. "But, before that... let's get out of this tub! I'm freezing!"

#bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs imagines #bungou stray dogs bram #bsd imagines #bsd #bsd smut #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs smut #bram stoker #bram stoker smut #bram bsd #bsd bram #bram smut #bram x reader #bram stoker x reader #bram stoker fluff #bram fluff #bsd bram stoker #bram stoker bsd

[dirtyvulture]

Natasha Romanoff x Male!Witcher!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Requested by Yuni on Ao3: (Translated from French on Google translate, original request below) Hi, I really like your work and was wondering if you can do a The Witcher style male Natasha x Reader covered in scars (one of which is across his face) and tattoos, a mass of muscles and the rest as a result 😳 😅, who returns from the fight and finds Natasha. To this follows a well-deserved part of legs in the air 😆😜. Thank you if you accept, good continuation. (My apologies for so many details)

AN: I've never watched The Witcher, so thanks to @mostlymarvelsstuff for educating me lol.

Original request: Bonjour, j'aime beaucoup votre travail et je me demandais si vous pouvez faire un Natasha x Reader masculin du style The Witcher couvert de cicatrices (dont une lui barre le visage) et de tatouages, une masse de muscles et le reste en conséquences 😳😅, qui revient du combat et retrouve Natasha. À cela suit une partie de jambes en l'air bien méritée 😆😜. Merci si vous acceptez, bonne continuation. (Mes excuses pour tant de détails)

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You shove your shoulder into your door one final time that almost knocks it off its hinges as you stumble into your room. You throw your sword onto the carpet and have the urge to fall with it until you see Natasha Romanoff waiting on your bed for you.

"Nat?" you ask, fighting against the exhaustion seeping into your bones. "What are you doing here?"

"Here to congratulate you after another successful battle," she says. "I already got your bath ready for you--"

"You didn't have to." While part of you is grateful for her help, you also like to maintain your independency and don't like to be waited on very much.

"Come on," she beckons, standing up and offering her hand. You have no energy left to argue and follow her into the bathroom, where true to her word, the enormous wooden basin is filled with steaming water.

You turn around to let Natasha help you remove off your several layers of armor and clothing. Some of it is splattered with your opponents blood, some of it yours, although you had hardly been injured in the fight. Natasha's hand lingers on your chest, tracing the shell of the wolf medallion hanging around your neck. Her hand travels down your ribs, where you have a thin slash from a sword.

"Let me get you a bandage for that," she says, darting off while you stand there naked, taking a moment to admire your reflection in the mirror. The years of hunts had taken a visible toll on your body, with scars littering your torso and limbs. There is a ragged chunk of missing flesh on your left thigh and claw marks raking across your chest to your stomach. Your most prominent scar could not be easily hid with clothing because it was on your face, crossing your left eye from your forehead to your cheek. But despite the damage from an innumerable amount of fights, you were of good health and strongly built, with sculpted muscles that put most men to shame.

Natasha returns with a bandage and some ointment, but requests that you wash off the blood and dirt in the tub first. You are happy to oblige, slipping into the warm water and closing your eyes in bliss as the heat loosens your muscles.

Natasha conjures up a rag and a bar of soap, wetting both and rubbing them together until a white lather appears. You sit back and let her wash your face, arms, and chest, taking the washcloth from her to finish what's left under the water. She eyes you hungrily as you wash yourself, almost like she's jealous she doesn't get to do it herself.

"You'll get your turn," you promise as you drain the tub of the dirty water. Natasha fills a bucket to present you with clean water to rinse off with, and when you're done you stand up, dripping water onto the ground and Natasha not-so-subtly clenches her legs together.

You go back to the bedroom, allowing her to clean and bandage the cut on your side, and even after that she's still looking at you like she wants to devour you.

"Nat," you say, finally ready to give in to her.

"Hold on. Drink this." Out of nowhere, she conjures up a flask carrying a bright-red liquid and holds it out to you.

"Will this heal me?" you ask, hesitant from the potion's flashy color.

"Yes," Natasha says with a grin, "And it'll help you last longer."

It takes a moment for you to understand what she's referring to, but you eagerly down the potion, cringing at the harsh taste. It doesn't make you feel any different at first, but then a hot warmth spreads to your groin and you realize it's because Natasha's taken your cock in her hands and starts stroking you slowly.

You crawl back on the bed, spreading your legs to allow her to join you. She takes off her own multiple layers of clothing, climbing on top of you and rubbing her bare chest against yours. Her nipples are already hard and you grope her breasts roughly. She arches into you and moans, and you hike your hips up to rub your cock along her smooth thighs.

"Fuck, Y/N," she murmurs, her hands roaming your body as much as yours are on hers. Natasha loves the way your muscles shift and flex under her touch. She can practically feel the individual muscle fibers in your chest straining and popping and your thighs are rock-solid underneath hers.

Her nails dig into the curve of your biceps, trying to keep you pinned down, but of course her strength is no match for yours. You wrap your arms around her waist, flipping her over in one motion and kissing her fiercely. You feel her hands grab at your medallion, then going down your sides and gripping onto your muscular butt to guide your hips.

"Inside," she begs. "I need you."

"Not yet," you tease, rolling your hips slowly so the tip of your cock teases her entrance. But you don't think she's wet enough for you, and with your size, you don't want to hurt her by pushing in too early. Besides, it's fun to tease her.

"Please, please," she begs, widening her legs until you can see her glistening center.

You push two fingers into her and curl them against her front wall; she moans loudly and drops her head back into the pillows. Your cock hardens even more at the thought of her walls clenching around you like that. You roll your thumb over her clit a few times, pumping your fingers in and out, until her thighs are trembling and she's panting and gasping for your cock.

"Now you're ready," you announce, taking her thighs in your large hands and pressing them into the bed, holding them wide apart. You position yourself at your entrance and slide right in, moaning at the heat that clenches at you.

"Oh fuck, Nat," you grunt, overwhelmed by the urge to cum immediately, but you feel something in your stomach tighten, preventing you from release. Knowing this is the work of her potion but not sure how long it will last, you start thrusting in long, hard strokes, filling Natasha and pulling out until you see your tip wet with her juices.

"Yes, yes, just like that," Natasha moans, squirming on the bed as you hold her down and jack your hips into hers.

"You feel like perfection," you say, savoring the feeling of her silky walls dragging up and down your throbbing cock. You know when you finally get to cum, you're going to fill her to the brim.

"So do you," she says, trying to sit up and grab onto your broad shoulders to steady yourself with as the bedframe starts to shudder violently from your motions.

"When can I cum?" you ask, as if she holds that much control over you.

"After I do," she replies with a sly grin.

"Okay." You start to thrust even harder, your abs starting to burn from the effort. "Tell me when," you add, noticing her tensing up beneath you. You feel like you're ready to topple over the edge, but no matter how deeply you thrust into Natasha, you just can't reach the peak.

"I'm gonna cum!" Natasha squeaks, her nails digging into your muscles.

You don't stop thrusting even as she's gushing around you, the slickness aiding your strokes, and finally when her body stops convulsing, your cock pumps cum straight into her womb. The orgasm is so intense and sudden you think you pass out for a moment, finding yourself lying on top of Natasha in a sticky heap.

"Oh no, I am so sorry, Natasha--" you say, trying to push away from her but she locks her legs around your hips so you can't pull out.

"Stay," she says, enjoying the warmth of your body on top of her and the fullness of your cock inside her.

"As you wish," you say, in no mood to argue with her now and shifting to get comfortable.

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AN: This was fun to write! Thanks for the request!

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader

[yourlocalmerchgirl]

Period Pains

Robbie Reyes x f!reader one shot

Summary: Robbie comes home to find you curled up intense cramps and wastes no time taking care of you.

Warnings: soft Robbie concerned Robbie protective Robbie, mentions of blood and pain. Hurt/ comfort theme

Despite having the spirit of vengeance living inside of him, when it came to you, Robbie was the biggest softy. You were his everything, his comfort after late nights working for the rider, his light when he couldn’t see past the darkness. He couldn’t believe a girl like you would be interested in a guy like him, a mechanic by day and a demon that drags the souls of the damned down to hell by night. Robbie thought for sure the night you realized he was the Ghost Rider that it would be over but your love for him never wavered and you’ve done nothing but firmly stand by his side never giving up on him.

So when Robbie returns home to some of the lights on but no sign of you, he begins to panic a little bit. It wasn’t unlike you to fall asleep trying to wait up for him to come home, something he found cute even though he wouldn’t admit it. He becomes a little more frantic calling for you when he makes his way s to your shared bedroom to see blood on the bed sheets and the faint glow of the bathroom light from under the door.

“Cariño, are you in there? Are you ok?”

So help me god if anyone hurt her Robbie, I’ll burn the city down to find them.

“Ro-Robbie please don’t look at the bed, I-I need to clean it” you managed to whine out between strangled sobs.

“You’re scaring me Cariño, can I open the door?”

“Y-yes” you squeaked out, voice horse and barely above a whisper.

Robbie slowly opens the door to find you curled up on the bathroom floor, sobbing and covering your face in embarrassment.

Robbie’s features soften as soon as he sees you. Kneeling down next you to he tenderly messages your leg.

“Baby look at me”

You finally pull your head up revealing your puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks.

“Oh Cariño what’s wrong?”

“I-l wasn’t feeling fell so I went to bed, I woke up doubled over in pain with the most intense cramps I’ve had in a long time.” Tears start streaming down your face again as your trying to get your words out. Letting out a ragged breath you continue. “I unexpectedly started my period and it’s really heavy and I got blood all over your sheecheats.”

“Baby it’s ok” Robbie says as he reaches up to wipe the tears from your cheek,his voice as soft as velvet.

“There’s no need to worry, these things happen, I’m not mad or grossed out”

You lean onto into his warm touch as he cups your face.

“Let’s get you in the shower, that might make you feel better huh?”

You nod your head, relishing in the way his warm skin soothes your face as you do.

Robbie steadies you as he helps you stand. Slowly and tenderly he helps you out of your clothes and then rids himself of his as he starts the water. Robbie climbs in the shower then grabs your hand helping you in as well. There’s so much vulnerability and love in this moment, Robbie is so focused on taking care of you, never turning the moment into anything sexual. He switches places with you, watching as you visibly relax as the water streams down your back. Tilting your head back Robbie helps get your hair completely wet before for lathering some shampoo in his hands before working it through your hair messaging your scalp as he does. You rest your forehead on Robbie’s shoulder as he rinses the shampoo out of your hair.

Then Robbie grabs your loofa lathering it up with you favorite soap and gently rubs it over your body until he’s washed every inch of you, going over a couple places twice when you let out a giggle the first time around.

“Stay here I’ll be right back” Robbie says as he slips into the bedroom once the two of you are dried off.

A few moments later Robbie returns with clothes for you, helping you into your comfy clothes and period underwear.

“Ok now by the time your done drying your hair I’ll have the bed all taken care of.”

“Rooobbie no…”

“Shhhh Cariño” Robbie says kissing your forehead.

“Just let me finish taking care of you, you don’t need anything thing else to worry about”

“Thank you Robbie” you breath out barely above a whisper, taken a back by the love and care Robbie is giving you.

When you climb into bed, Robbie snuggles right up to you placing his large hand on your abdomen, rubbing in soothing circles his forehead resting against the side of your head.

“I love you, Robbie”

“I love you too”

Taglist:

@kalllistos @spikershoyo @alongfortheridereader @svittok2 @huskyfox5 @princessmk21

#robbie reyes x f!reader #fanfic #robbie reyes x reader #robbie reyes #hurt/comfort #gabriel luna #ghost rider

[vera-king-hrfl]

The first chapter of my Rolan fic is UP! Available on AO3 at the link below. More dialog and character interaction than with my beautiful Zevlor, but I needed to set things up. No real smut yet, but be patient. I have a feeling this is going to be a long boi.

Here's a little taste to whet your appetite.

Down by the river you take quick glance around, and, not seeing anyone through the dead whispering branches of the blackened trees, begin to strip down. Your stained robe and underdress tossed aside, you keep your small clothes on just in case, and quickly plunge into the cold water, hissing as you lather yourself with the cake of scented soap. The smell is herbal and pleasant and you sigh, releasing some tension as you dunk under the water, happy to scrub the grit from your skin and hair. Emerging once more, feeling clean and gratifyingly refreshed, you slosh toward the bank and grab your towel, vigorously rubbing at yourself to get some warmth back into your skin. You’re drying your legs when you hear a rustle and a soft curse further down the bank, and look up quickly.

It's him. The tiefling fights his way past a bushy clump of branches, holding a bundle of clothes and towels, grumbling as his horns get tangled in a grasping vine. He extricates himself with difficulty, then turns and meets your eyes with an almost audible “click”. You both freeze, and you have time to notice his damp white shirt, collar still undone to reveal a few little ridges on his upper chest, his fine waist enhanced by the wide leather belt holding up snug woolen breeches. You straighten slowly and see his wide, orange eyes travel the length of your torso before jerking back to your face, a rough swallow making his throat bob. You gasp softly, suddenly aware of the thin wet scrap of linen clinging to your breasts, and jerk the towel higher to cover yourself.

He begins to move toward you as a tumble of apologies and explanations spills from you. You didn’t know he was here, you thought you were alone, you’d never have… Your babbling justifications run dry as flurry of motion catches your eye behind him. His tail, whipping back and forth in obvious agitation as he approaches with an oddly determined expression. You take a half step back at the fire in his eyes and the firm line of his mouth, but then stop. You aren’t going to run from this irritating lunatic, even though your eyes rise as he closes the distance. Was he always this tall? He stops an arm’s length from you, his breathing audible in the still air, still looking at you with that calculating, slightly deranged expression as you clutch the damp towel to your chest like a shield.

Say something your mind urges. Yell at me, call me names, just don’t keep looking at me like… There is a soft thump as his bundle hits the sand, and he closes the distance, hands seizing your upper arms, head lowering. For a moment you think he’s going to actually harm you, and you brace, ready to shove him away, before you’re stunned by the feel of his hot mouth pressing against yours and his arms sliding around your back. He is incredibly warm against you as your towel falls, and you can’t help a tiny whimper from sounding against his lips as he tightens his hold and your arms slide up around his neck.

His hands burn over your chilly skin as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, long fingers sliding up into your hair and down to grip your bottom, pulling you hard against the firm length of his body. He’s much bigger, more imposing than you had realized, and you cling to him desperately, breathless with the intensity of it all, quivering in his grasp. You lose all sense of time before he finally draws back from your mouth a bit, only to let his forehead press against yours, his eyes closed and breathing ragged. You gasp for air, completely shell-shocked, grateful for his surprisingly strong arms around you, keeping you from sinking to the ground.

Finally, he raises his head, and those hellfire eyes burn into you as he speaks. “Tonight, “ he growls, “we find a place and work through all this… whatever it is.”

#rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan bg3 #approaching nsft #angst and feels #meddling kids (but they're adults) #rolan x reader #rolan fanfic

[my-soupy-brain]

reader gets a sunburn after falling asleep while reading outside. Naturally, Ted fusses over them and is all like “poor darlin’” while looking up sunburn remedies.

Considering I just got over a bad case of sunburn myself, I'm here for this. A cooling shower with Ted perhaps? Oh, goody! Let's goooo!

---

Relationship: Ted Lasso x reader

Warning: Mostly fluff, a lil smut

---

Your blanket + book + basking plan on Richmond Green was perfect to start.

You were nestled just right in the sun, hoping to get some vitamin D and cheer up your low mood. And for once in a great while, London had blue skies.

Ted was on the couch streaming an American football game while you skipped out the door.

"Be back soon, babe!" you called from the door, Ted giving you a kissy face as you headed out.

Ahhh, the Green. People watching, a blanket, a good book. This will be great.

TWO HOURS LATER

Oh, shit.

Ohhhh, shit.

It burns. It burns. It burns.

You knew laying on your tummy with a book was going to send you into snoozeville. Why didn't you bring a chair?!

When you walked in the door, aaahh-ing and ouuuuch-ing as you came in, Ted jumped up from the couch.

"Hon? What happened?" he asks, rounding the corner, and sees your red face, and redder back.

"I fell asleep, like an idiot. Oh, that was a bad idea," you say, laying your blanket and book down.

Ted's at your side quickly.

"I think we've got lotion in the bathroom, hang on, darlin'," he says, scurrying off to the other room.

You sit down and look at your red arms, red thighs, red everything.

"How bad is it?" you ask Ted as he sits next to you. He takes your sunglasses off, your eyes pale against the red on your face.

"Oh, sugar, it's not good. But it's OK! It'll be OK, it'll fade."

Ted squirts some lotion on his hand. "Turn around. Oh, my poor darlin'."

You turn your body so he can reach your shoulders and back. rubbing you with a cooling gel-lotion.

You sigh at the sensation. When he's finished, Ted fishes his phone out of his pocket and starts Googling remedies for sunburns.

"We should put you in some comfy clothes, get you out of these tighter clothes," he advises. "And a cool shower later."

You nod and he walks you to the bedroom, carefully and slowly pulling your clothes off. He hands you a cozy t-shirt from his dresser and a pair of light joggers.

"Before you put those on, come here and let me help."

He crawls behind you on the bed, adding more lotion to your back, rubbing it slowly and carefully down your shoulders to your low arch. Then you turn to face him so he can rub it on your arms and chest.

"That OK?" he asks quietly, and you nod. His touch is so soothing and the lotion feels cool and comforting.

A few hours later, you know you need a shower after sweating and laying in the park. Ted won't let you do it alone.

"I'll come with ya," he says, joining you in the bathroom. Again, he carefully undresses you and turns the shower on a cool temperature.

"This is probably gonna burn no matter what but it'll help the sting a little," he says quietly, taking off his clothes and getting under the spray first. He shivers.

"Oh, hon, you don't have to do this, I know you don't like cold showers," you say, trying to encourage him out.

"I also know you tend to scrub too hard and too fast, so I'm not gonna let that happen," Ted retorts. "C'mon in."

He holds out his hand and lets you climb in the stall with him. You accept, and he slowly brings you under the spray.

"Ow! Oooh, ooooohh," you sigh, the water hurting at first and now soothing to your angry skin.

Ted shampoos your hair, his fingers working in the lather, his hands running soap down your arms and chest. You can feel him excited behind you.

"Even in a cold shower, huh?" you turn your head slightly, making him chuckle.

"Ain't no stopping that from happenin' when I've got your beautiful body pressed against me," he murmurs, kissing your neck lightly.

His warm, soft hands caress you every inch, taking care not to press too hard or use any abrasive washcloths or loofahs.

When he rinses you, Ted steps under the spray to wash himself and you smile at him, your fingers lathering his hair now. Being with him like this is so intimate, so romantic, but so sweet, your heart could burst.

"How ya feelin', sugar?" Ted asks, watching your eyes light up in love.

"Better, I think. All because of you."

He leans in to kiss your lips, his hands gently around your waist.

"Let's get dried off and I'll get some cold washcloths to put on ya," he murmurs to your ear. You agree.

He steps you both out of the shower and pats you down with a clean, fluffy towel, careful not to rub too hard. Once you're dry, he puts you back into his baggy, comfy t-shirt and leads you to the couch, where he drapes cool washcloths on your arms and legs.

"Do I look like a mummy?" you ask with a chuckle.

Ted grabs your feet and places them in his lap as he rubs your soles.

"A little, but the cutest damn mummy I've ever seen."

---

Well, I know I won't have my own Ted to take care of my next sunburn. So I will try my hardest never to get one, because if I can't have this level of care, I'd rather just not risk it. Hahaha! Thanks for the prompt, friend!

#ted lasso x reader #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fluff #sunburn after care is IMPORTANT friends

[love-toxin]

my ass is craving for male! angel face who's in the basketball team and is flirty little shit who's a perv with a perv! bully! Eddie

teehee....flirty male angelface my love.....

pretty boy

(cws: bully!perv!eddie, flirty!jock!m!angelface, homophobia, "freak" used in the homophobic sense, violence/fighting, bruises, one shower trope [kinda], clothes stealing, bullying, eddie's got a staring problem, angel's kind of a charming loner.)

you're kind of an anomaly--you're pretty well-liked, and the girls just flock to you most of the time, but you don't really date or have many friends. of course, that just maximizes the intrigue for the ladies, but you're really not too worried about them....not that they or most people really know that. on the other hand, despite being one of the better basketball players in Hawkins, your team absolutely despises you. Sinclair's pretty much the only one who doesn't, he's a pretty cool kid and you've enjoyed giving him some pointers now and again, but Jason and the rest of them often like to throw names your way and do their best to keep you on the bench as much as possible. if you weren't the one getting them through most of the finals, you'd probably just quit, and the coach wouldn't be begging you to stay--you really only do it cause you like it, and it's a way to pass the time.

of course, the most pressing reason they hate you is cause you're different--you're a freak, and they make sure you remember that every time they force you to wait outside until they're all done showering and changing. and yet you're rarely ever really alone when you finally get off the bench with a sigh and walk in, the empty changing room squeaking to life when you flip on the shower to wash off. if it wasn't for Eddie, they'd probably never suspect you, and you could get through your second try of your last year in peace--you probably wouldn't be on your second try in the first place.

but you have to be honest with yourself. at the end of the day, you haven't really done much to keep him away. you like the attention, but you only really like it from him--including when you feel his eyes on your back as you rub soap down your arms. for all his chains and buttons and leather, the man moves like a damn panther when he doesn't want to be heard.

"if you wanna beat me up, take a number. I already got my ass kicked once today." you chuckle, knowing he's closer than you think if you can feel him staring so intensely, as you call out into the echoey locker room. "unless you're just here to steal my clothes, in which case you're gonna have to figure out my new locker combo. try your birthday, babe." you smile to yourself, knowing you're earning yourself a higher place on Eddie's shit list the more you tease him. although, to be frank, you're pretty much the only name on that list in the first place.

the silence creeps in closer, hanging in the background of the hail of warm water hitting your body and the cold tiles under your feet. there's not even an ounce of shuffling that you can hear, and it dampens your smile until you find yourself scowling at the silver shower handle in front of you.

"they asked about you, y'know." you say with a sobering voice, lathering your body wash in a rougher manner than you need to between your hands. "last time they beat me up. asked if I was gonna go suck you off after practice for your devil rituals."

people's opinions don't generally bother you, you try not to let them--it's one of the reasons why you're such a target, especially for Eddie, who's always trying to get a reaction out of you. he loves it when you show even an inkling of losing your cool, of snapping back at him, but he rarely gets the passionate response that he really wants. so he keeps pushing, pushing, pushing, until it takes all you have to grit your teeth and smile so you don't punch him right in that stupid, pretty face.

"....you know, you really don't make my life easy, you prick." you huff. "but by all means, take what you want. go show it off to your shitty little friends at satan worship club."

you can't imagine he does anything else with the things of yours he steals, other than pawn them off or keep them for whatever reason. you'd feel more violated if he didn't occasionally sneak them back into your locker or your backpack--always washed, which just makes you more concerned than angry.

".....Eddie?" you call out again, leaning back and searching the space you can see from where you stand, a twinge of panic shooting through you at the uncanny silence. if he was watching you, he'd usually make himself known at some point--and now you fear it might not be him, and goosebumps rise to your skin at the thought that some of your team members are waiting in the wings to dish out more humiliating punishment. and if they've been listening to what you've said when you thought you were talking to Eddie, you really fear for yourself. but just as you're reaching to turn the handle and shut off the water, a sudden thud makes you jump and then there's someone standing in the doorway between the shower block and the locker room.

that messy mop of hair gives it away immediately, a towel wrapped round his waist that comes off as he approaches the showerhead right next to yours and turns it on. you catch Eddie's grin from your peripheral as you go from gawking openly at him showing up to averting your eyes when he strips himself bare, so used to avoiding even the appearance of impropriety around other guys that it's just habit--even though Eddie's staring pretty obviously when you manage to look him in the eyes. the wash of water pouring over his head mats down his curls and accentuates the distinct features of his face, as well as the ink contrasting his fair skin that seems to crop up everywhere you dare to look.

"devil rituals, huh? clever." his smile doesn't reach his eyes, those big, brown beauties betraying something that chills you a little when they're directed at you. he goes about washing himself off, but he's clearly distracted--and so are you, rendered speechless even when he steals a bit of your body wash and rubs it down his chest, staring off into the distance as you try to focus on doing the same. it's strange. oddly domestic, showering next to each other.....and Eddie keeps glancing back in the direction of the door, seemingly keeping his ears perked for any sounds outside the norm. "....that where the bruises came from?"

he asks it so casually you almost do a double take, but thinking better of it, you keep yourself fixed on one of the random floor tiles as the answer just dribbles out of you.

"getting 'beat up'....that was a little dramatic. they just kinda....throw me around. can't break their star player's arm, y'know." you laugh without a shred of humour behind it, running through the events of this morning behind the school like they just happened. it's always just a little scuffle, some pushing and shoving and sometimes a punch thrown, it's mostly the jeers that hurt--and you know better than to fight back, lest they flex that power they have to make sure nobody believes you over them. you're associated with Eddie Munson, after all.

you rub over one of the bruises on your ribs, hissing sharply but quietly at the ache as your fingers graze it. doesn't help that your teammates, save Sinclair, thoroughly enjoy elbowing you or tossing the ball hard enough that those spots hurt even more during practice. and Eddie notices, as he always does, even though you'd never think he would.

"let's get one thing straight," Eddie turns his gaze to yours, and pierces you straight to the bone. it's weird, you don't really get close to a lot of people, but Eddie always seems to be able to read you like nobody else could. "it's no fun to dogpile someone that's already on the ground. it's just depressing."

he flicks his wet hair over his shoulder, and you follow the motion it makes as it drapes over his shoulder and down his back. he's not really that hairy, aside from the smattering of hair down his stomach that leads to--you shake your head free of where you're tempted to look, though the thought doesn't wrestle free from your mind and won't for a while. without a reply, Eddie rinses the rest of the soap off that he's lathered around that area, and thinks hard before he speaks again.

"where's the fun in pushing you around if you're just going through the motions? besides, you look so pathetic when you're lonely." lonely. does he really think that way? does he know how often you lay awake in the mornings, knowing what's coming in the day ahead, and wishing you weren't so much of a freak that you could have some friends to rely on when things get too hard to deal with?

"so you're keeping me company?" you test, sharing another look that he keeps locked so you don't even think you could break it if you tried.

"nothing of the sort." he smirks as he takes stock of your body one more time, from the toes to the top of your head. "I'm just enjoying the view."

with that, he shuts off his own shower, and pads away without a second glance to leave you watching his back, up until he turns the corner to the lockers and disappears. with a bit of shuffling and shifting clothes, you listen closely until his shoes thump against the floor and the door opens, before slowly creaking shut with a final thunk.

"so you are a freak." you speak aloud to nobody but yourself, a chuckle coming off your lips borne of nothing but disbelief. you just have to roll your eyes as you turn the handle on your own shower, but there's a grin you can't hide creeping across your lips as the spout sputters to an end and you wrap your towel round your hips, before following where Eddie had gone and approaching the lockers around the corner. but when you see what he left for you, you grimace.

"oh, you asshole."

your locker door left open and empty, your bag sits clearly rummaged through on the bench, one of your socks having fallen to the floor while the rest of your clothes are missing. and when you pull it open all the way to see if there's anything to salvage your dignity other than a measly towel, you're met with a very familiar logo as you lean over it.

sitting crumpled and half-folded, but very clearly smoothed out so you wouldn't miss it, is Eddie's Hellfire shirt. pushing it aside, you see the jeans he must've been wearing today rolled up underneath. no underwear to speak of, although you're not sure you'd wanna wear his anyways. with everyone else gone, you have no other options--so you're forced to don the sweaty clothes that reek of cigarettes and weed, but even moreso, they reek of Eddie. part of you wonders, as you huff and gather your things together to beat a hasty retreat out of the school, whether people will notice that Eddie's wearing your clothes too. maybe they'll wonder....

whatever. you need to get out of here, and you sling your bag over your shoulder before hurrying out the door and shoving your hands in pockets that aren't yours, tilting your head down and hoping nobody spots you--but just as you're at the doors that lead out to your car, you hear someone's voice down the semi-empty hall; what sounds like a very familiar freshman squabbling with someone.

"Eddie, what the hell?! if you're gonna make me cover for you, at least come back on time! and where's your shirt? why's your hair wet?"

"nunya, Henderson. let's get going."

and when you turn to look, there's Eddie, looming over his protégé with that same award-winning smile--the two of them turn to walk down the hall towards their clubroom, but before they duck in through the door, Eddie turns his head over his shoulder to lock eyes with you, completely knowingly. he runs his stare over your body one more time, clearly enjoying how you fill out his clothes as he mouths the words "pretty boy", and winks in your direction before vanishing through the doorway and closing it behind him.

he's one to talk, he's really one to talk--looking so much softer in your sweater and acid-wash jeans, so cute, that you have to cover the flickering smile you've got at the compliment with your hand as you step out into the chilly air, and feel your still-damp skin prickle as the breeze hits it while you walk to your car.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #bully!eddie munson #eddie's angelface #male angelface #st 4 #stranger things #ellie writes #anons

[wepsi]

Showers are for getting clean not more dirty Beel (smut)

(Not my art! Go follow @ obangye on Instagram!)

Gender neutral reader, established relationship

Cw: shower sex, cunnilingus, fingering

Kinda a part two to this

Scenario: Beel really wanted to shower with you after establishing a relationship with you, how could you say no to this cutie!

Beel strips down first and steps into the shower, turning the hot water on. You were too shy to look, quickly ridding your own clothes as if it could rid your shame. You didn't see that Beel was blushing as well and taking peeks at you, sure he's seen you naked, but the dessert never tastes less sweet no matter how many times you eat it.

You gingerly step into the shower, since you're here anyway might as well enjoy the feast. You peek slowly up Beel. from his strong calves to his huge.. uh hum... his abs reflected all the hard work he puts into his body. You hold his hands with yours and trace up his toned arms, and to his shoulders, you're looking up at him at this point, cradling his neck. Beel stares back down into your eyes, you looked so beautiful with your cheeks slightly flushed from the steam, he could just gobble your cheeks up like mochi right now.

Not sure if it was the heat or because of you, but Beel's face was bright red, he leans down and pulls you into a passionate kiss. Feeling you shiver from the cold, Beel swaps your places so you were under the hot moving water. He grabs your shampoo bottle and squirts out a large amount, and reaches his hands behind your head to start massaging it into your hair. The warmth of the water combined with the massages felt like heaven. He was still looking so lovingly at you, with a small smile on his face.

You wanted to please him too, tracing your hands from his neck you place your palms on his chest, feeling his muscles. You trail your hand finally down to his patiently waiting hard on. Grabbing hold of it you begin pleasing him, Beel leaning down to connect your lips. He was goaning into your mouth, while his hands was working in the shampoo. Helping you rinse off the product he leans and grabs the conditioner, struggling to apply it because of the stimulation. While the conditioner sits it was time for the body wash.

Both of you feeling shy and turned on, Beel lathered the soap and starts applying it to your body. He starts with your chest, making sure to rub his hands, I mean soap all over them. He then lathers you waist and stomach, and your butt and thighs and finally your legs. Lightly pushing you back into the water stream he again rubs his hands all over you to wash it off. At this point you couldn't take it anymore, putting your hands on his shoulders you push him on his knees. Beel getting the hint, picking your leg to put it on his shoulder to access you.

(I know the position is confusing, so here is a reference.)

He caresses your ass and thighs as he lifts his chin up into you. Beel laps at you from below, pleasing you. You whimper, feeling your knees getting weaker, digging your nails into his hair. Beel stops for a second, and hands you his shampoo and you get the hint. You start meticulously working the shampoo in his orange strands, trying really hard not to get any of it into his violet eyes. He groans into your heat, the vibrations making you throw your head back.

Feeling that you are getting close, Beel stands up and rinses his hair. And turns your around to have your chest against the wall, and starts kissing up your neck, leaving little nibbles. He snakes his hand back to your heat, and his finger slips in easily. You moan and trying to move yourself on him for some satisfaction, Beel slips in the second finger, causing you to stop and groan. He pulls away from the kiss to look in your eyes and gives you a smile before clashing into your lips once again.

He works tirelessly at you entrance, enticing all the sweet sounds you make that is almost drown out by the water.His tongue tangling with yours, occasionally sucking at your lips. Finally not being able to wait anymore, he parts his lips with you and position himself behind you. Lining himself up with you, Beel pushes himself into you, and decorates your neck with more kisses. Giving you time to adjust while he sings praise into your ears, he starts thrusting into you, and grunting into your mouth once again. He roams his hands all over you, your waist and chest his favorite stops.

The water from the shower is just flowing down the drain, the sound almost drowning out the wet slapping noises. Beel moves his hand down to start playing with you with his hands, he must be getting close and wanting you to cum with him. Beel always want to feel good together with you, always sharing tasty foods with you, he just wants to share all the joys in life with you including these moments. You start pushing yourself back onto him, trying to lure out your own orgasm.

Beel sees that and gets extremely turned on knowing he is making you feel good, and starts roughly pulling almost all his length out and burries himself in you. It didn't last long before he bottoms out in you and let out his seed. Disappointed that you didn't finish with him, with him still inside of you Beel tries to please you with his hand. Feeling full of warmth inside and outside, and kisses with even more sensation from his hands, you finally reach your high, and feel your walls clench around him.

Beel slips out of you, and his cum leaking down your leg,

"Haha showers are for getting clean not more dirty Beel."

Beel only smiles bashfully, helps you clean yourself off and finishes his shower. Turning off the water, he carefully wraps you up in towers, places a kiss on your head. He wraps himself up and then suddenly picks you up and carries you princess style into his bedroom, throws you onto the bed and you guessed it, he's hungry again ;)

..............................................................................................................................

Don't waste water like these two horny people kids >:(

Check out my master list for more content !

Check out my kinktober for more content!

#obeyme #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me smut #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel smut #obey me beel x you #obey me beel x reader #beelzebub x mc #beel x reader #beelzebub avatar of gluttony #obeymegenderneutralreader #obey me gender neutral mc #obey me kinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #smut

[fruitcoops]

Lakehouse Loving

On the Ninth Day of Nutmas, fruitcoops gave to you: smut from the Cubs’ honeymoon!

This is the first time I’ve ever written O’Knutzy smut outside of server story spams--big big big thank you to @arrowofcarnations and @heyitssmiller for doing a readthrough and assuaging my fears. You are both outstanding Cubs writers (and more importantly, friends). Character credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for smut and oodles of cutie goodness

The door opened and closed. Logan smiled, tilting his face up toward the water. Rustling followed; the shower curtain crinkled as it moved; a warm body pressed up along his back, big hands settling on his hips. “Mmm, bonjour,” he sighed.

“Hey, cher,” Leo murmured into a kiss above his ear as Logan rested his head against a sharp collarbone and cracked an eye open. Leo’s hair was darkening already, turning from spun sugar to gold beneath the spray. His eyes glittered with amusement, and he pressed a last kiss to Logan’s forehead before taking the soap from the caddy and lathering it between his palms.

“I was using that,” Logan noted.

Leo nuzzled into his cheek; he didn’t even try to keep down a smile. It had been an impossible task, as of late. The soap made Leo’s hands slick when he slid them up Logan’s arms and down his sides, then around his waist to cup his ass.

“Can I help you?” he laughed.

A light squeeze of Leo’s hands made his stomach curl pleasantly. “Harzy’ll be back soon.”

“Oui.”

“I know you like him sweaty, but I have an idea.”

Logan grinned.

--

“Babes, I’m home!” Finn called, kicking his shoes off and tossing his keys on the side table at the same time. Leo hardly spared him a hum of acknowledgment as he scanned a page of his cookbook against the kitchen island, pink-cheeked from the crackling fire in the living room and the warmth of Logan plastered to his back. Finn caught Logan’s eye and shot him a wink. “Hey, good-lookin’.”

“Hey, yourself.”

“Shower,” Leo reminded without looking up.

Finn blew him a kiss. “Always do, sweetness.”

The pipes creaked and hissed for a moment before settling down—Finn stripped out of his damp clothes while the water warmed up and contemplated calling for his boys to join him, then thought better of it. Leo seemed pretty absorbed in his recipe, and Logan would pout if he tried to coax him away from cuddles. The mere thought was unbearable.

His fingers and toes tingled when he stepped under the spray and he hummed to himself, flexing his hands to get blood flowing again. The flight from Gryffindor to Madison had made him restless—he was grateful for the wide, winding trails that surrounded the cabin. Leo had shooed him out with a fond go on, Lo’s still showering and a kiss that kept him warm for the next fifteen minutes, even as he jogged past foot-high snowbanks. Finn smiled to himself as he rinsed the shampoo from his hair. Nearly a decade of loving Leo Knut so much his chest ached with it, and he would never tire of his pure sunshine heart.

It was sweet that he got to have some one-on-one time with Logan, too. None of them had been able to stray far from each other since the wedding; Finn rubbed an absent thumb over his ring and felt giddiness swell in his whole body, quickening his pulse that had only just begun to calm. They were saving the big ceremony for the summer, but once the certificate was approved, none of them had the heart to wait for a honeymoon. All the documents called it ‘domestic partnership’—the vocabulary didn’t matter. They were married in every way they cared about. Leo and Logan would be his forever, and he would be theirs, and that was that.

Finn had thought he found the peak of happiness at age 24. Months from his 31st birthday, he couldn’t wait to see what the future held for them.

He grabbed the nearest washcloth (still damp, definitely Logan’s) and scrubbed at the back of his neck. Remus was kind enough to loan them his family’s cabin for the week, but it made him wonder. A little place of their own for weekend getaways wouldn’t be so bad. God knew they had enough disposable income for it, and with Leo’s retirement on the horizon…yeah, that wasn’t a bad idea at all. He loved coming home to Leo studying his recipes like holy books while Logan—

“OH MY GOD!”

The shower pipes squeaked in protest as he wrenched the water off and stumbled out of the tub, snatching a towel off the rack before hurrying back to the kitchen. He could hear them laughing all the way down the hall.

“You—motherfucker!” Finn accused, jabbing his finger at Logan.

“Leo, actually,” Logan said with an innocent kiss to Leo’s shoulder. “You should know that by now.”

“You did this on purpose!” he sputtered. “That’s why you wanted me out of the house! You didn’t care about getting my energy out! This was a trap!”

Leo blinked at him, smiling sweetly where he was stretched over the kitchen island. His arms were long enough that he could hold on to the opposite edge; his fingers flexed on the old wood when Logan ground into him deeper. In the five minutes Finn had been gone, both of them had abandoned their shirts. Their pants, it seemed, had never been involved in the equation.

“You can still get your energy out, cher,” Leo said with a gleam in his eye. “Are you gonna watch, or are you gonna get over here and kiss me?”

“I don’t know,” Logan cut in, giving Leo’s hips a playful squeeze. “It took him a while to notice.”

Finn opened and closed his mouth twice before any words came out. “Hey,” he finally whined. “I didn’t even get to wash my hair.”

Leo gave a catlike stretch and beckoned him over. “Later. Where’s my kiss, hubs?”

Hubs. Finn felt himself sway before the rest of Leo’s request caught up to him—he abandoned the towel and hurried over to pull him close, taking in Leo’s contented sigh like ambrosia. Logan laughed beside them and Finn felt a hand at his lower back a moment later, followed by a kiss to his bicep. It sent lightning down his spine like the very first time. “Do I get one, too?”

“Mmm—one sec,” Finn mumbled as Leo’s tongue swept forward. His stomach felt tingly, his hands restless; he wanted to touch. Leo practically purred when he reached out to stroke along the stretch of his spine. “You’re beautiful.”

“Your hands are cold,” Leo whispered into his mouth, nipping at his lower lip with a playful growl. “Bet I can warm them up.”

Jesus fucking Christ. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

A high, shocked noise escaped Leo at a quick thrust from Logan; Finn felt the hand on his back draw him closer, fingertips tracing tantalizing circles over the sensitive skin before coming around to walk up his chest. He watched them, openmouthed, until Logan caught his jaw between two fingers and guided him in for a kiss that would have melted his teenage self through the floor.

I died, he thought wildly as Logan cupped the back of his neck and deepened the kiss. A crazed chipmunk got me on my run, and I’ve died and gone to heaven. Logan’s heavy breaths fanned over his skin, matching the rhythm of his thrusts into Leo. Heat radiated off them like a furnace; Finn wanted to crawl inside it and never leave. He put a hand out for balance and felt Leo’s moan vibrate up his arm where it was braced between his shoulders.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, already dazed from a lack of blood flow upward.

“No, no, no,” Leo groaned. “Hold me, hold me—uh, Lo.”

Logan broke the kiss in spite of Finn’s whine and turned to bite a mark into the hinge of his jaw. The momentary pinch sent pleasure flashing through every nerve—Logan’s satisfied hum and swipe of his thumb over a surely-blooming bruise made Finn shudder. “You want me to—” He broke off, licking his lips while the kitchen came back into focus. Logan arched an amused brow. “You want me?”

“I always want you,” Logan said affectionately. His rings were smooth on Finn’s skin, breaking up the rough pattern of his calluses. “But I think someone else needs attention right now, mmm?”

“I do,” Leo answered immediately. He gave a shimmy of his hips, working further backward onto Logan’s cock until he got a swat for his troubles.

Finn blinked at him. Blinked again. “Oh!” There were those neurons he had lost. Goddamn Logan Tremblay, stealing his thoughts for 13 years running. “Oh, right, yeah, of course baby.”

The hardwood made his knees ache when he knelt; Logan was kind enough to nudge a pair of discarded sweatpants toward him. It really was so rude of them to start without him, but he couldn’t complain. The view was pretty great, sandwiched between Leo’s thick thighs and the kitchen island. He nibbled and kissed the soft, pale skin, tasting soap and sweat as he went. Leo whimpered quietly at the first lick to the underside of his cock, but Finn only took the first inch of him into his mouth before returning to worshipping his favorite pair of legs.

Leo’s knees were already bent slightly to accommodate their position when Finn wrapped his hands around the backs, holding him steady. The muscles of his lower stomach jumped and shivered—he sucked a line of faint marks down Leo’s Adonis belt before biting a little harder at the divot in his hip. It always made him howl when they gripped him tighter there, and sure enough, a broken noise was muffled somewhere above him. Finn shifted his knees more comfortably on his sweatpants-pillow and went to work.

Was he devoted to his boys—his husbands—like a priest to an altar? Yes. Would he spend the rest of his life loving them and letting their words of praise pour over him? Without a doubt. Was he opposed to employing his education as a college slut to the loves of his life?

Leo’s short shout at the flicker of Finn’s tongue on his tip confirmed the answer: absolutely fucking not.

Finn had never given someone a blowjob until Leo and Logan. To be honest, it had been daunting even with them. But then they told him things like pretty mouth and pretty face and you take me so well and…safe to say, his curriculum had expanded. Finn savored the slide of Leo’s cock over his tongue, the light press against the back of his throat. What he lacked in a talent for taking them deep, he more than made up for in enthusiasm. And his hands. They did like his hands an awful lot.

Leo’s breaths punched out of him in rhythmic wheezes that set Finn’s pace like a metronome. He bobbed his head faster, jacked Leo quicker, thumbed below his balls where he could feel Logan so hot and so close it made his head spin. “Oh my god—oh my god—” Leo choked out, knees buckling. “FinnFinnFinnFinn god keep going.”

Finn moaned softly. Precum spilled from Leo in a steady stream as his cock grew heavy, silky-smooth in Finn’s mouth while he worked along the underside. Logan’s thighs flexed in his periphery and his mouth watered at the rumble of his voice pouring pure French filth into Leo’s ear. Logan’s hand disappeared from its place holding Leo by the waist and Finn closed his eyes at the strangled groan that followed.

“You like that?” Logan asked, a smile in his voice. Finn’s cock throbbed. Yes. “Come on, mon cher, use your words.”

I can’t, he thought for a half-second before Leo’s noises picked up again. “Yeah—yeah—yes,” Leo panted. “Oh, fuck, so full.”

He could hear the sound of Logan’s lips finding freckled skin for a chaste kiss. “Harzy’s being good for you, too.”

Leo’s whimper of agreement was drowned out by Finn’s involuntary moan. Yes I am, yes I am.

“You’re so clever,” Logan continued, his accent thick like syrup. Finn exhaled hard through his nose at the pulse in his cock and gripped Leo’s thighs tighter. He would not risk going off this early, no matter how addictive this feeling was. A big hand threaded into his hair and his jaw relaxed instinctively; Logan petted the damp wisps out of his face. “So clever, pinotte, with your plans. Pour toujours, oui?”

A low sound tore from Leo and warmth spilled into Finn’s mouth without warning. He swallowed over and over until a hand, clumsier than Logan’s, pushed him off by covering half his face. His knees were numb; he licked his lips again, foggy and so hard it almost hurt.

Only the lower part of Leo’s face was visible when he looked up—pink colored his chest, neck, and cheeks while sweat made him glimmer in the orange light. His chest heaved with harsh breaths and Finn rested the back of his head against the cabinets to admire the marks along his trembling thighs. “So handsome,” he sighed, a little hoarse. His jaw was going to ache when he came back down to Earth.

Leo smiled, the adorable, bashful one he got when he was particularly pleased with himself. The rest of his face appeared a second later when he rested his forehead on the edge of the counter and brushed his thumb down Finn’s nose. “You look good down there, sugar.” Something sparked in his eye. “Mon mari.”

Finn kissed the inside of his knee. “What’s that one?”

“Husband,” they said together.

“Oh, big fan.”

“Good,” Leo hummed, still tracing his face. “I think I want to use it for a while.”

Finn grinned. “Is that so?”

“Sure is.”

“Gonna need to make it legal.”

He heard Logan snort; Leo’s grin grew. “Already did.”

His knees panged and wobbled when he stood to taste that smile, but Leo caught him neatly under the arms with a hand stretched out so they wouldn’t topple. Behind him, Logan made a noise of interest; Finn jumped at the light pinch to his hip. “How was your run?”

“ ‘s good.” Leo turned his head to kiss down the length of his neck and blood rushed south again. “So good.”

“Any bears?” A kiss feathered his collarbone, sweetened by Logan’s grin. “Moose?”

“Saw—hmm, birds, mostly.” Finn ran his palms up and down Leo’s sides, following the lines of his ribs and squishy muscle. “Couple squirrels.”

Their mouths met at the hollow of his throat and he bit the inside of his cheek at the sound. “You’ll have to show us around,” Leo murmured as he gently crowded Finn against the counter. Fingertips crept over his sensitive waist, growing closer by the second to the place he needed them.

“Lo, you—” A moan was stifled by Leo’s mouth and a tremor ran through Finn’s whole body. He wanted to brace against the kitchen island, wanted to pull Leo close to kiss him breathless, wanted to reach back to drag Logan in and take him apart. He let himself sink for a few more seconds, then drew back an inch. “Lo, your turn?”

Leo’s smirk was world-ending. “Like I’d let him go before filling me up.”

“Already got mine, rouge,” Logan confirmed, nibbling his bicep.

Finn cracked a lazy smile. “Since when has that ever stopped you?”

Logan’s laugh was loud in the otherwise-quiet cabin; Finn opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of his nose scrunching before he pushed his face into Leo’s back, like he was hiding from them both. “He’s got you pinned, Tremblay,” Leo teased, turning to look over his shoulder.

Logan’s eyes gleamed. “You still won’t take my name, hmm?”

“We’ll roll dice.” Leo lowered his voice and bent to nudge their noses together. “Maybe rock, paper, scissors.”

“Get over here,” Finn breathed. “God, both of you, c’mere.”

Logan found his mouth first, gathering the back of Finn’s hair in his hand to bring him down into a bruising kiss that was soon soothed by the peppering of plush lips over his entire face. “I’ll put it on my email signature,” Logan said into his cheekbone. Finn fought to keep his eyes open. “Logan O’Hara-Knut. Has a nice ring to it.”

“Paint it on the mailbox, get it printed on a door sign,” Leo suggested. Fuck me. Finn whined as Leo gave him a light stroke and heard him laugh. “Yeah, baby, you love that domestic shit.”

“Mmph, I do, I do, I fucking—” Finn’s breath hitched when Leo squeezed gently. “—love you, oh my god.”

And they were right, was the thing; he was a romantic through and through. Their names on the mailbox might just make him keel over from joy. The mere thought of it was giving him a raging boner. He pressed the side of his face to Logan’s and clutched Leo’s shoulder as Leo picked up speed, moving smoothly along his shaft with the occasional tease of his tip that made his heart skip a beat and his stomach tumble.

Finn breathed through it, pulling the feeling out to the dregs. Logan mouthed at him, any bit of skin he could reach, and the scent of his sweat and shampoo made Finn dizzy with love. Or, not his shampoo—Leo’s. His thoughts flooded with the idea of them in the shower together, big hands sliding over wet, slick skin, steam curling around them, water burying their moans…

“Fuck, fuck, I’m close,” he shuddered out. A noise caught in his chest when Leo squeezed him again, then released him. His cock throbbed against his lower belly; he could feel himself twitch every few seconds and focused on keeping his feet on solid ground while Logan scratched along the back of his neck. His skin was so soft beneath Finn’s hands it didn’t feel real. This would be the most beautiful dream, he thought hazily. Logan gasped at the swipe of his thumb over his hole. This would be a dream I would live in forever.

“Mon mari.” It was clumsy on his tongue, but Logan’s moan went low and rumbly. “Je t’aime.”

“Look at you,” Leo said fondly. He pressed along Finn’s back a beat later, already half-hard again against his ass. The slide of his hands was fucking covetous; he handled Finn like he was made of stained glass, kissed him like the most delicate statue. His nose was cold when it pressed behind Finn’s ear. “Sweet thing, learning just for us.”

Logan’s fingers traced the dripping head of his cock and Finn let out a harsh exhale. “You sound good, mon amour.” The maddening circles made his jaw clench, until Leo’s hand came up to pull it back down. “You’ve been practicing.”

“Years,” Finn panted. “Good—good teachers.”

Logan’s other hand closed around his base and he keened, sensitive and aching. Leo’s teeth grazed his earlobe and he grabbed the countertop to steady himself. “Wanna fuck your husband, Harzy?”

“Which one?” he asked, a little delirious at the idea that he could ask that, now.

“Bullshit, ‘which one’,” Logan scoffed. His hand sped up for a moment and Finn’s breath hitched at the sudden build, then the crash as he stopped moving altogether. “What, you think I can’t take care of our Peanut?”

Leo shivered pleasantly behind him. “Don’t ask stupid questions, Lo,” Finn said, breathless and nearly laughing if it weren’t for the pulse pounding in his head. He had seen Logan fuck Leo utterly senseless one day and ride him until he begged the next. It was a credit to Leo’s stamina (and many, many practice sessions) that he was even standing right now.

“Hmph.” Logan began to move his hands again, rubbing over the crown to gather what Finn was sure had become an embarrassing amount of precum. He cracked one eye open and saw a smile tug at Logan’s lips before he carefully schooled his expression and kissed the point of Finn’s nose. “Don’t doubt me, O’Hara.”

“Tremblay-Knut,” he and Leo corrected in unison.

A pleased blush spread over Logan’s cheeks and he kissed him softly. “Make it up to me, mon mari.”

“Yes, please.”

Logan stuck his tongue out and released him, surveying the kitchen with a skeptical eye before hopping up on the kitchen island. “We’ll have to clean this place before going home,” he noted as Finn stepped between his legs with an appreciate rub of his thighs. “I would feel bad, making Loops deal with it.”

“Or anyone else,” Leo agreed. He guided Logan to lay back and moved to the other side with a last kiss to the top of Finn’s head.

“That,” Finn began, leaving a lingering kiss to Logan’s tattoo. “Is a problem for another day. Lube?”

Logan snorted and tossed it to him. He stretched his arms over his head and found Leo’s hands with a happy sigh as Finn poured a generous amount out and parted his legs with the span of his own hips; his index finger slipped in easily.

Finn narrowed his eyes. Too easily. “Tremblay?”

Logan didn’t bother opening his eyes, already lost in the press of Leo’s thumbs to his palms.

Finn exhaled through his nose and added a second finger, much to Logan’s obvious delight. “O’Hara-Knut.”

“I always like a thorough warmup,” Logan answered. His hands clasped around Leo’s wrists as he shifted his hips over the edge of the countertop. “A very, very thorough warmup.”

A deep groan siphoned from his lips when Finn teased his hole with a third. “Honestly, you two, I was not gone that long.”

“Long enough,” they chorused. He raised a brow at Leo and got a wicked wink in response.

“You said it yourself.” Logan’s wrists disappeared under Leo’s hands as he pinned him. “Since when has just one ever stopped him?”

“Clearly.” Finn pulled his fingers out and ran a hand down Logan’s broad chest once more before lining himself up and pressing in on one long push that made Logan’s lower back arch and his fingers tense around Leo. Tan against pale, with the tiny mole just near his thumb that tasted like caramel—Finn ground his hips forward and ducked to kiss Logan’s sternum. “Ours.”

“Yours,” Logan hummed with great contentment, pulling Leo down by the arms for a messy kiss.

“How many did you get out of him, Mr. O’Hara-Tremblay?”

Leo mirrored his grin. “Two, Mr. Tremblay-Knut. And a half, before your perfect fucking mouth entered the picture.”

I love you more than words. The tiny red and green gems embedded in Leo’s wedding ring stood stark against the growing pink of Logan’s skin as he kept him steady for Finn to pull apart. Logan’s garnet and Leo’s sapphire glimmered on his own hand when he pressed Logan’s knees apart and began fucking him in earnest, nestled next to each other. Finn let his mouth fall open at the vice grip around his cock and angled upwards, wrenching a heavy noise from Logan as he did.

“Oh, he likes that,” Leo noted while Logan writhed into the sharp thrusts. “Keep going, cher.”

Logan’s cock was darkening with need, tight on his stomach and smudging a shiny trail over his lower belly each time he was jostled. Finn slipped a hand under his back and pulled him up and close; the muscles quivered on his palm, but Logan’s arch held, and he sank into the sound of skin on skin. “What do you think, Lo?” he asked, flicking sweat from his eyes. “Did you get Knutty warmed up for me, too?”

Logan grinned, hazy-eyed and gorgeous. “Always.”

Leo kissed his smile into Logan’s cheek. “Pretty mouth, gotta use it.”

“You two are fucking dangerous,” Finn huffed.

Logan wrapped his legs around Finn’s waist and snapped his hips down, meeting Finn thrust-for-thrust while pleased noises spilled from his lips. The heat in his stomach built and his thoughts grew foggy. He couldn’t think about how stunning they looked together without remembering they were his forever, and he couldn’t think about how they were his forever without tearing up, so he pulled one of Logan’s legs over his shoulder to an approving moan and poured every sweet thing that came to mind into the long curve of his thigh.

“Saying—he’s saying—” Logan’s words were lost in his gasping, syllables running together in a mix of French and English that even Leo seemed to struggle with, since he bent and kissed them out of Logan’s mouth. Finn circled his hips with a tug of Logan’s cock and he thrashed, tossing his head; his sweaty curls spilled over his eyes in an utter mess. “Fuck!”

“That one, I understand,” Finn half-laughed, angling to get that spot every time. Logan melted, lips parted, staring up at Leo with slow blinks and a heaving chest. “Come on, Lo, baby, almost there.”

“Feel so good,” Logan mumbled. “Knutty, so good.”

Leo combed a hand through his hair and pulled gently. “Je sais. Hold, mon coeur.”

Logan obediently clutched the far edge of the kitchen island when Leo released his hands, muscles flexing with the effort. Leo kissed his forehead once before hustling around—

--and into Finn’s side. Finn stuttered in his movements. A grin spread over his face and he felt his neck heat at having Leo so close, his hands already mapping Finn’s body eagerly. “Hey, you,” he said. He made an involuntary noise when Leo kissed the corner of his mouth and pulled Finn’s arm around him. “Is it my turn for some Southern comfort?”

Leo smiled. “Shut it, O’Hara.”

“That’s Mr. Tremblay-Knut to you.”

His cornflower eyes went soft. “It is, isn’t it?” Leo’s thumb swiped over his jaw and he turned to kiss it in a fleeting touch. “Sweetheart.”

“That’s me.”

Leo inclined his head. “Finish your husband off.”

Finn didn’t take his eyes off Leo as he resumed his steady strokes and kept himself buried in Logan. Any movement might knock him from Leo’s strong hold, and that was unthinkable. Logan sucked in a breath; his legs clenched around Finn’s waist, and his cock flexed in Finn’s hand. “Is he coming?” Finn asked, watching the faint shadows of Leo’s lashes.

Leo’s gaze flickered away, then back. His pupils dilated. “Sure is. Looks a mess, too.”

“Sounds like we make a pretty good team.” Finn savored his kiss like August rain. Leo hummed when Logan’s legs went lax against them, and Finn felt them both reach out to smooth over the exhausted muscle at the same time. “How you doing down there, babe?”

Logan made an unintelligible noise and kicked him lightly.

“Glad to hear it. Love you, too.”

Leo laughed and drew him in again, again, again, not just keeping Finn in his orbit but encompassing him entirely. He made a small noise when Logan sat up and his cock slipped free; within seconds, they each had a hand on him. He swayed into Leo’s kisses and Logan’s palm cradling the back of his neck, hips twitching as pleasure rose and rose to a tipping point, cutting his strings. He fell into them—he let them catch him. He fell for them all over again, and with sudden clarity, Finn knew what it would feel like every day for the rest of their lives.

#finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #o'knutzy #cubs #sweater weather #vaincre #coast to coast #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #smut #honeymoon

[starboundanon]

Hi! For the fic game, ShyOwl’s Blooms story, I don’t remember what chapter, but it’s after Din and Anakin decide to keep Luke, and that he’s theirs, and Anakin is training Luke, and Din shows up, Anakin gets possessive and tells Din he is taking Luke for his bath, and Din says he should be the one to bathe Luke, since it’s his husband, and Anakin says absolutely not! So the missing scene I would love to see is Luke being bathed by one of them/both of them.

Ahhhh one of my most favoritest scenes in that whole fic. How the Blooms Yearn, chapter 35, by @thewriterowl

Send me a missing scene!

Luke's face burned bright red, but it had nothing to do with the heat of the water.

Anakin had made sure it wasn't too hot, meticulously cooling the deep basin with the Force until it reached the perfect temperature. He and Din both preferred scalding baths, water so hot it seared the first layer of skin right off, but that was too hot for his youngest. Luke had had enough of pain.

If it was the last thing he did, Anakin would ensure he never felt pain again.

Embarrassment didn't count. His son was remarkably shameless in some ways — too naïve to know better, really — but that was changing, little by little. Enough that his face went adorably pink when Anakin helped him out of his training fatigues, careful of the injuries littering his body, and eased him down into the steaming water, before undressing himself.

"I, um. I can bathe on my own."

"I know you can," Anakin said, smiling as he tossed his tabard away. "But you still tend to be too rough with yourself, sweetheart. You scrape your skin raw when we let you do it yourself. Let Daddy help you."

Shame filled those sky-blue eyes. Luke lowered his face, shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, no," Anakin said, wading through the water to the other side of the tub, perching on the stone seat beside his youngest. "No, that wasn't a criticism, baby boy. It isn't your fault. Daddy wants to help you, okay? Will you let Daddy help you?"

"You... shouldn't have to," Luke said, still averting his gaze. Anakin cupped his chin, made him look up. His child was getting better at maintaining eye contact, but it was a marathon, not a sprint.

"Fathers do these things for their children, Luke. Force, I had to help Din until he was sixteen years old. You wouldn't believe the places he'd forget to wash. I had to threaten to do it for him to get it through that thick skull of his. I'm your father, and I want to do this. Please, little one? For me?"

It was a little manipulative, maybe, knowing that Luke had yet to master saying no to anyone for anything. But he'd rather that than watch him fidget in pain the next two days, his skin rubbed so raw it blistered beneath his clothes. It was the lesser of two evils. As his father, it was Anakin's job to protect him — from everything.

Even himself.

Luke nodded numbly, cheeks darkening when Anakin smiled and lathered his hands with soap. He'd only just began massaging it into his skin when the door to the wide stone 'fresher suddenly slid open, revealing Din's grumpy, bratty face. "Buir!"

Anakin clicked his tongue, curling around his youngest son possessively. "Ad'ika."

"I told you I would bathe him!" Din snapped, stomping into the room like the overgrown child he was. "You were supposed to take him for snacks!"

"I did. We had cake and hot chocolate in the garden."

"It was very good," Luke said meekly, trying to mitigate the confrontation between them the only way he knew how. Anakin's sweet boy.

He kissed his baby's cheek, then frowned as a chorus of clink's and clank's filled the room, glancing over his shoulder to watch Din shed his armor, placing it on the room's armor stand more haphazardly than he had ever handled the precious metal before. "What are you doing?"

"Bathing him," Din said, stepping into the pool. Luke let out a worrying little squeak and hid his face in his hands, making Anakin scowl.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Stealing my husband."

Luke's body temperature skyrocketed ten degrees when Din strolled over to them, the water only reaching to the tops of his very naked thighs. Anakin hugged his son flush against his chest, glaring at his eldest. The nerve of him, waving that thing around in front of his innocent baby like a scoundrel.

Din grinned, the absolute brat, and took a seat on Luke's other side, arm draping around his shoulders. Glaring, Anakin tugged the boy closer, careful not to jostle him too much. Din's dark eyes flashed dangerously, and he reached over to grab the bottle of shampoo from Anakin's side of the tub, squeezing a generous handful into his palm.

"Hey!"

"Let's get you cleaned up," Din murmured, ignoring his father. The man who raised and loved him. "Sit up, cyar'ika. You'll drown if you crouch any lower."

Luke's embarrassment was a beacon through the Force. He obediently sat up straighter, the water pooling around his collarbones, instead of his chin. It only came up to the waist on Anakin and the ribs on Din — his darling boy was so small, so painfully adorable. How in the Force's name could anyone expect him to share? He was only human.

Not willing to let his eldest have all the fun, Anakin snatched the liquid soap again, glaring Din down as he set to work gently scrubbing his baby boy's skin clean.

If he took a little longer than was strictly necessary, well, he wasn't going to apologize for that.

They had a lifetime of pampering to make up for.

#herbie asks #ask game #tw darkfic

[moonlightpirate]

Okay AO3 is down I was actually inspired to write. Sorry if this sounds bad. This fic is like a second part the first being Secret Worlds: The Necklace. In this part you and your boyfriend Joey finally get to see each other after your time apart. Yes it is fluffy and sex is implied. Again i made reader without gender so everyone may enjoy! Link to masterlist here. Link to ao3 here. Fic is below as well

Anxiously you pulled into Joey's driveway. Finally after months apart you were going to see him. Apparently he was excited as well as he was standing outside waiting for you. You fumbled at your seat belt as Joey opened the door for you. He laughed as you almost threw yourself at him as you jumped out of the car into his arms. 

"I missed you too. How was the drive?" Joey chuckled as he hugged you tightly. 

You buried your face against his neck breathing in his scent, "it wasn't a bad drive. How have you been?" You inquire as you step back and look into his blue eyes.

He smiled down at you, "haven't been bad. I wrote a few songs that maybe I can use on the next album.". 

"Oh I can't wait to hear them! But let's get inside. I'm so ready for a shower and food.".

Out of nowhere he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer while his other hand gently brought your face to his as he kissed you passionately. You practically melted against him as time seemed to freeze as you kissed.

"Sorry I couldn't resist. It's been too long." He whispered as he broke the kiss.

You gently rested your forehead against his, "Don't be sorry and kiss me again.".

You pulled him back into another kiss. This one was a bit more passionate than the last one. 

"Let's get inside before someone does see us y/n." Joey giggled as he went around to your trunk and helped you get your bags out. 

You groaned playfully as you helped him with your bags. You made your way into the house, the door barely closed behind you before Joey spun you around and kissed you again. You laughed a bit as you wrapped your arms around his neck kissing him back. 

"I seriously want food and a shower before all this dear." You playfully laugh as you pull back from his kiss.

"Sorry y/n I have just missed you so much. Go shower, what do you want to eat?" Joey sighed. 

"Surprise me. I'm not picky, just hungry. If you want to order a pizza or something maybe you can join me in the shower instead." You winked as you turned and made your way upstairs. 

You laid out some clothes on the bed as you waited for the water to warm up. Just as you took off your clothes and went to get into the shower Joey showed up at the door staring at you. 

"Going to just stand there and watch me or are you going to join?" You tease. 

Without hesitation Joey takes off his clothes and gets into the shower with you. He watches as you lather your hair with shampoo and rinse it out. Without asking he grabs the wash cloth and puts your favorite soap on it and begins to rub it over your body. You gasp and sigh as he stops and gently teases your body. Finally being overtaken by passion you turn and kiss him. 

"Shall we take this to the bed my love?" He moans as you begin to touch him.

"Well I think I'm clean enough for now." You say biting your lip looking up into his passion filled eyes.

You wanted him that much you knew so quickly you turned off the water and you both got out of the shower. Your lips crashed together as you stumbled your way to the bed. 

************************

You had almost forgotten how passionate of a lover he was until you lay there wrapped in his arms almost gasping for breath. As you lay with your head on his chest you could hear his heart beating wildly. Gently he ran his fingers up and down your back and you just enjoyed laying together for a minute. Without warning the doorbell rang and you both jumped up forgetting that he had ordered food. 

"Fuck, the food!" Joey shouted as he ran over to where he had left his clothes on the floor and quickly put them on and ran downstairs.

You laughed as you stretched out on the bed before getting up and also dressing yourself. After you ate, Joey grabbed a guitar.

"Can I play you a song? I wrote it for you.".

"A song for me? Oh yes please, I would love to hear it." You smile at him. 

There was something about not only watching him play his music but listening to him sing that made you feel so at ease and forget all your cares. After he finished you went up to him and kissed him.

"That was beautiful.".

"So are you lovely." He smiled. 

He set the guitar down and pulled you onto the couch with him kissing you. 

*************

Later that night you cuddled against him on the couch mindlessly watching whatever was on TV as you both dozed on and off. You sighed and smiled as you looked up at him and slowly you lost yourself in memories of when you first met Joey. 

#joey batey #reader x joey batey #the witcher #reader insert #genderless reader #I'll make a masterlist #my fic #drabble #fluffy #tw: mentions of sex #sex is implied #mostly fluff #lots of kissing #joey batey x reader

[the-fiction-witch]

Dec 15th Gingerbread Boy

Media Accused 

Character Jake Murry 

Couple Jake X Reader

Rating Sexy 

15th Of December 2022

I sat on the sofa head deep in my video games when I heard keys in the door, so I paused my game unsure who to expect given my mum wouldn't be done with work for hours and my gran was off out with friends. The door opened and I smiled at the adorable sight she hurried in from the snow in her little fake fur lined red lace up boots, thick black leggings with a pair of thermal tights over them, a sweet red plaid dress and her black button down coat with fake fur collar covered in snow, her little red knitted hat on her head so with the fur you could barely see her gave but her pink cold nose, the little knitted puffball on top of her head, her arms full of the little reusable cloth shopping bags she takes everywhere as well as her little backpack on her back. "Awwww hey, how was shopping?" I asked getting up to take some bags to the kitchen for her but the only sound that came from her honestly just sounded like Kenny from South park "uhhhhh yes?" She then tugged off her coat and he'd hat revealing her cute face "I said, it went okay. Had to substitute a few things but that's all" "Good, I missed you" I cooed giving her a hug as we unpacked the shopping "Aww I missed you too Jake" he giggled "I got us some popcorn and ice cream for the movie tonight?" "Ummm aren't you just a sweetie" I smiled "oohh it's the one with polar bears!" "Well yeah it is snowing, we are watching a Christmas movie" "Very appropriate" I smiled "oh did you manage to grab what I asked for?" "Sort of. There was an issue in the store no shampoo, no bodywashes, I couldn't get your normal one so I had to get you this little pack just for now till we can get some more" she explained handing over the small holographic bag clearly from the gift section with a bar of soap, a lofa, bottle of shampoo and shower gel. "Eh soaps soap. Thank you sweetie"

While y/n got our movie set up I went for my shower taking the little set she bought me as I was put of all my other ones, I ran myself a hot shower and climbed inside grabbing first the shampoo but I didn't bother reading the label just got myself a bunch and started rubbing it into my hair... Hu. Smells kinda odd. Sort of sugary. Maybe a lot spicy. No idea what it's meant to be but I will say it's good shampoo once I had rinsed it all out I grabbed the lofa a nice brown colour with some purple little balls on it and got a good layer of the body wash it did lather good and had that same kinda spicy sugary smell to it but I was clean so whatever honestly most of my nose was filled with y/n's sugar scrub that also lives in the shower as I could smell that lavender sugar thought the tub it's in. Once I had scubbed myself clean I grabbed my towel wrapping myself up and heading across the hall to my bedroom sitting on the bed while I got warm and dry y/n already on our bed in her PJ's and as soon as I arrived she looked at me funny "What?" "You.... Smell... Wrong" "What?" "This is not your usual scent" "Well no, I had to use that new soap you got me today" "Oh" "Yeah I did say I was completely out" "It was just unexpected. Not your usual smell" "Do I still smell nice?" "Really nice" she's smiled cuddling me closely and nuzzling into my neck "sugary, and spicy, and lovely my life gingerbread boy" "Ohhh it's gingerbread shampoo" "Yeah?" "I didn't read it I was trying to guess. But it's good shampoo I'm clean and I do smell like gingerbread" "Ummmm gingerbread boy" she giggled giving my neck and shoulders some kisses "Y/n." "Ummmm" "Y/n. You better not do what I think your gonna do" "Nom" she giggled biting my shoulder "Y/n!" "Hum?" "Excuse me?" "Um?" "Your biting me!" "Ummm hummm" she nods "I smell like gingerbread. I am not made of gingerbread" I said pushing her away and getting my PJs on climbing into bed she gave for a cuddle but I pushed her back "But.... But Jake... Don't you love me" "I do love you very much that doesn't mean you can bite me" "But you still love me?" "Very much darling. Now come on let's what our movie"

[killemwithkawaii]

Goretober 2022 Day 23: Human

Earlier today, I helped Mitchie take a bath after it had tried to eat and it ended up covered in mac and cheese. 

After I filled the tub with warm water, I helped it take off its clothing items and get in. It asked if we could ‘use item bubble bath,’ so I poured some in. Soap suds started to build up on the surface, and it asked me what was happening. I explained what bubbles were, and it swished them around as I got undressed. Mitch chirped and sang when it saw I had ‘discarded clothing items’. It said again that it liked my ‘shell’ and was happy to be able to see it now. I went to step into the bathtub with it, but since Mitchie is so big now, I ended up having to sit on its lap. It sang and buzzed when I sat down, recognizing that it had ‘sat’ on my lap before this. It said it was happy it had a lap now, so that I could sit on it.

I took a washcloth and started wiping away at the cheese sauce that was still smeared on its face and torso. Its huge eyes stared at me without blinking. It asked what I was doing. 

“I’m wiping off your face because it’s dirty. You’ll be nice and clean when I’m done.” I buffed the last of the sauce away, careful not to rub off its painted-on mouth, and announced I was finished. It brought a stiff hand to its shiny cheek. 

“My shell is clean, and it has a face, just like Sallys does…”

“Yeah, it… sure does…”

Now that Mitchie was clean, I turned to wash away my stress sweat from earlier. I lathered my body and my hair with suds. Mitchie chirped and repeated its new word, ‘bubbles’.

“Sallys shell is covered in bubbles!” 

“Heh, yup. I’ll be nice and clean soon, too,” I got an idea. “Hey, wanna see something cool?”

I gathered some lather from the tub, made a circle with my finger and thumb, and blew an extra big bubble. It floated in the air between us, and Mitchie rapidly chirped and started singing its new song, Daisy Bell. I reached out and popped it, and Mitchie gave an alarmed beep.

“Hey, don’t worry! Bubbles always pop, but before they do, you can do fun things with them. Here, watch…” I gathered more suds and gave myself a bubble beard and a bubble hat.

“Oh! Sally has new clothing items! Can I have some, too?’

“Sure! Here…” I gave it a hat and beard to match, and it sang one of its classic little tunes. I laughed at how silly we both looked, and for a second, I forgot that I was stuck in a glitched out pocket dimension, sitting in a bath tub with an 8-foot-tall talking doll that was a keychain / digital alternate universe version of my soulmate the day before. For a second, it felt normal, and comforting, and familiar….

I rinsed us both off and helped it out of the tub. It waved goodbye to the bubbles and thanked them for having fun with us today as they went down the drain. I grabbed a towel and dried us both off, then helped it get into its PJs. 

“Sally?”

“Yes?”

“My shell is clean. Is it time to hug with arms now?” 

“Uh… I did say that, didn’t I….”

This morning, Mitchie had wrapped its new arms around me and squeezed so tight, I thought for sure I would be crushed. I told it to stop because it hurt, and it asked me what ‘hurt’ was while I felt my rib cage bow against its hard, plastic casing. Luckily, I’d managed to squeak out ‘hardware damage,’ and it gave an alarmed beep and let go before anything snapped.

“Let’s try it like this…” I wrapped my arms around it. “Hug me at 0% strength, then increase by 2% until I say ‘stop’.”

It did just that, barely making contact at first, and very gradually squeezing. 

“Hug at 10%... hug at 20%... hug at 30%...”

I told it to stop at 44%. Not too hard, not too soft.

“Sally likes hugs at 44%. It is not too hard, not too soft…”

We tried the same thing flipped. Turns out, Mitchie likes hugs from me at 100%, and would like me to hug harder if I could manage it.

When the hugging was ‘complete’, I made dinner for myself (since it had already ‘eaten’ earlier) as it watched me. It sat at the table and we talked while I ate. We sat on the couch together and watched a movie, pausing every couple minutes for me to explain things I took for granted, but were exciting and new to it. It wanted to know everything, and it asked questions constantly.

It was starting to get late, and I realized it had not made a goretober prompt for the day. I know that’s still Mitch(6)s thing, but it felt good to keep up at least a part of their routine, and it was nice to see Mitch(4) creating new things for a change.

“Here, you can use the laptop-”

“No.”

“No?”

“I do not want to use the Laptop to Make Art today.”

“...Do you want to use something else then…?”

“Yes.”

I looked in Larrys room for art supplies. There were paints and charcoal lying around, but I thought they would be too difficult for Mitch to use. Despite its vast improvement in mobility, it was still very limited in its dexterity. I opted for a dusty box of crayons that was buried in one of Larrys many junk drawers. I figured he wouldn’t mind.

I came back out with the box, and gave it to Mitch. 

“Crayons added to inventory. Thank you for the gift, Sally!”

It tried on its own for a while to open the box and select the crayons it wanted to use, but I ended up having to tape them to its hand so it could hold them. It was a slow and clumsy process, but eventually the page was filled with drawings of the two of us. When there was no more room on the paper, Mitchie stopped moving its arm and stared at its work.

“Hey, nice job, Mitchie! Those look great.”

It stayed silent, which was very, very uncharacteristic of it.

“Mitch…?”

A drop of liquid landed on the page- it was leaking from Mitchs eyes and onto the table. I thought for a second that some water had seeped into its seams during our bath, but the quiet, slow beeping it let out made me think twice.

“Is something wrong?”

“This Art is… inaccurate…”

“Well, that’s okay. It’s all about interpretation. People stylize things in art all the time.”

The beeping got louder, but deeper.

“...Am I a person now?”

“What…?”

“Sally said I am not real. I am not a person, I am an S.O. … I am a toy… I am a thing…”

It knew what I’d written. Of course it knew what I’d written. Why did I think that it wouldn’t?

“Sally said a toy can’t love him. If that is true, I do not want to be a toy. I do not want to be a thing….”

More droplets. More beeping.

“I love Sally, but he said I am not a person. I want to be a person so I can love Sally. I am trying to learn how, but there is so much I do not know. I do not know if I will ever be a person…”

It turned its head and looked at me with its huge eyes, its painted-on, crooked smile a stark contrast to the slow, low beeping that I now understood was it crying, and the liquid I now recognized as its tears, streaming down its plastic face and soaking its pajama shirt. 

“I can see and hear, I have a voice and I can move. I can hug and I can kiss and I can hold hands. I can take a long soak and sleep in and cuddle. I am warm, and I have weight… How much more do I need to learn to be a person? What else do I need to be real? How can I be a person so I can love Sally? I want to be real… I want to love Sally… how do I do that?”

My heart broke for it- No, for them- and I realized how cruel and wrong I’d been acting. I thought I could play with them because they were a thing, and I was a person. I needed to control them because I knew better, but under the guise of control, what I’d really been doing was stifling and belittling them, and they didn’t do anything to deserve that… They were only doing what they could with the equipment they had, and were doing their best to improve. How could I ask for anything more? Who was I to judge what didn’t seem human? I’d been far from it for a long time, but I knew damn well that I could still love, and I knew damn well that I was still real. Even after all I've done, with all I am, I'm still a person, no matter what form I'm in.

“Mitchie, I.. I’m so sorry… I should have seen… I should have known- You are real. You were always real, and you do love me, just like I thought.... just like I do. You’re just like you always are- the same, just a little different… I’m so sorry I doubted that.”

I put my arms around them and hugged them at 100%, and they gave a few slow chirps and hugged me at 44% in return. Not to soft, not too hard, just how they knew I liked it.

With that hug complete, I took them to bed with me. I helped them lie down and pull the blankets over them, and laid down at their side. They were warm and they had enough weight to sink their half of the mattress . They looked at me with their huge eyes and told me they loved me with their synthesized voice. I told them the same as I touched their synthetic hair and their hard, plastic shell, and I kissed their painted-on mouth before I turned out the light. It felt normal, comforting and familiar… the same, just a little different.

#goretober2022 #the staycation 🏡💙 #videogame!mitch #tw unreality #tw objectification #tw infantilization #tw mental illness #tw dolls #tw abuse #tw body horror #tw unsanitary #meet the fishers

[obito76]

[Closet Secrets]

Chapter 19: Shower

You can read my full work here on AO3.

---

Dick stopped and stared at her for a moment, water sluicing over her smooth skin, her head tilted upwards with a soft smile on her face.

He only realized he was entranced by the simple act of Raven showering when she turned her head and smiled at him.

“Are you just going to stand there or join me?” She beckoned him, a content smile playing on her lips as steam bloomed around her.

Dick snapped out of his haze, hastily stripping his clothes and tossing them into the hamper before stepping into the shower.

The water was hot, but for him.. her body was way hotter. The curve of her ass brushing against him in the tight enclosure of the shower, and Dick melded his pelvis against her, he felt himself swelling as she swayed against him.

She hummed, something low and sexy, while she worked her fingers through her damp hair. When she reached for the bar of soap, Dick extended his arm around her and grabbed it first.

“Here, let me do that for you,” Dick murmured into her ear, just over the rush of water, sending a shiver down through her spine.

Raven gazed back at him with a warm, lazy smile, nodding her head. “Yeah, will you?, That will be good.”

Dick lathered his hands with the soap before running them across Raven’s arms and shoulders, massaging her muscles. He felt small scars under his fingertips, as any hero would have, but Dick was almost in awe with how smooth and supple her skin was as he continued to lathered her body.

“Azar,” her breath caught in a gasp, eyes fluttering closed as she leaned back against him. Dick moved his hands across her chest and breasts, cupping their weight in his hands before he soaped his hands again and worked down her toned belly and over the thick curves of her hips as Raven sighed and moaned throughout his work on her.

Raven smiled and opened her eyes as she stretched her head, pressing small kisses against his throat and along his jaw.

“Hey, I’m working here,” Dick teased, but the gentle slide of her lips on his skin had him buzzing, making his cock throb against her back. “Turn around, yeah?”

Raven followed his order, standing straight and turning around to face him. Dick ran his sudsy hands along the back of her neck and then down her back.

Raven sighed and kissed his chest before her eyes travelled down. She knew he could feel her gaze on his cock, her lower lip cupped between her teeth before she reached out and wrapped her fingers around his shaft. Dick failed to fight back a groan as she began stroking up and down, before her eyes found his face again.

“Hm, really? Here?” Dick muttered before moaning as her other hand cupped his balls, soft and gentle, her thumb rubbing over the head off his cock, sending pangs of pleasure down his spine. “T-thought we’re supposed to be gettin’ cleaned up...”

“I mean…we don’t have to do anything. Just… just a little bit of teasing,” her voice was low and husky and not certain at all. She leaned over and kissed his chest, tongue lapping at his skin, and any words came from his throat fell dead on his lips.

Instead, Dick decided to play her game. He rubbed his hands down her back and grabbed her ass in his palms, giving small squeezes the way he knew she likes it.

Raven let out a satisfied moan into his neck, she always loved the feeling of his body against her own. Tilted her head up, she pressed on her toes, kissing him. She teased him with light nips and the brush of tongue, and when he chased, she sucked on his tongue like it was sweet candy.

She’d maneuvered his cock between her soft thighs just under her hot, dripping core and started rocking back and forth on her feet, feeling almost like she was fucking him, with his cock pressed between her thighs and her pussy.

“T-teasin’? Y-you call this teasin’?” Dick stammered against Raven’s lips, hands groping her ass, helping her slide on his cock.

Raven smiled against his mouth, breaking their kiss and gazing at him.

Her face was flushed, lips swollen, her beautiful purple hair astray from the humidity.

And her eyes full of love and begging at the same time.

“Fuck me, Dick.”

Dick moved his hands onto the back of Raven’s thighs, lifting her off the ground. she wrapped one arm around his neck and used her other hand to slot his cock against her entrance. He brought her down on his cock, burying himself deep inside her with just one thrust, his forearm rested underneath the back of her knees and his hands spread over her ass.

“Oh, fuck ,” Raven gasped, smiling as Dick brought her down on his cock, until he completely filled her up. He lifted her body again, using her weight and his strength to thrust himself inside her again and again, building a slow, steady rhythm that had her panting and whining, her arousal gushing against him and being washed away by the stream of the shower.

They tended to fuck frantically, like animals, whenever they had the chance, but this time it was intimate, full of love and the slower pace was an amazing contrast. He could feel her grip tightened as he drove her down on his shaft and could feel the sweet flutters when he kept her there, at the descent, circling his hips and grinding his tip against the heated, sensitive areas inside her.

“Mmn, Fuck, I always loved how you can carry me, and like — ah, do me h-how you want.”

Her eyes were heavy and lidded with lust, her voice was breathy and sweet in between moans for him.

“Y’know, not anyone could carry you like this, right?”

“Dick, don't talk about others, I want you.” Raven moaned, dropping her head down on his shoulder as she felt him twitch inside her.

“Sorry.” Dick apologized with a kiss, prying her lips open with his tongue. Raven was eager, her mouth was soft and pliant as he brushed his tongue against her own. She wrapped her legs around his back, pressing their bodies close, he barely being able to thrust up into her while as they made out.

“Dick, Dick,” she chanted, her forehead pressed against his own, indigo eyes so round and full. Her body was trembling against him, her heels kept rocking against the muscles of his back, her core was thirsty with the way it clenched around his cock. “I-I’m close, but my clit isn’t-”

Dick didn’t wait for her to finish her sentence, lifting her off his cock he placed her on her feet. Raven blinked in surprise, but Dick was already adjusting her body, turning her around and placing her hands on the wall of the shower.

“Don’t worry, I’ll always take care of you, today.” Dick whispered into her ear as he aligned his cock against her entrance. He could feel her arousal dripping over the tip.

Heat and steam and the rushing sounds of water surrounded them, but Raven’s throaty gasp when Dick sunk his cock to the hilt cut was clear as summer sky.

And then he started pounding away.

“Oh fuck, oh my God, Dick!” Raven nearly squealed, her head braced against her forearm as Dick fucked her with abandon, one hand resting on the small of her back to support his thrusts, while his other hand reached around her thigh. She moaned as his fingers tapped over her clit. “Yes! Please, please!”

Dick cupped over her core, using the pads of his fingers to circle her clit. The slap of his pelvis against Raven’s ass as he fucked her echoed in the shower with loud claps. Raven babbled and praised him and his cock, her pussy kept fluttering and clenching sweetly around him until her body spasmed, Raven let out a sob as her hips tried to jump away from his touch.

“Just, let me finish Raven.,” Dick panted, removing his hand from Raven’s clit and readjusting his grip on her hips, thrusting into her with slow, deep strokes even as the aftershocks of her orgasm gripped around his cock. “Just let me cum, okay?”

Raven sucked air, her legs quivered as his body continued to move inside her sensitive self. Her body begged her to stop but she forced herself to relaxed against him again, her hips swaying, letting him fuck into her without protest.

“J-just give me a sec, I'm really sensitive- fuck!”

“Hm, what was that?” Dick teased, brushing his thumb against Raven’s asshole. Her shoulders shuddered as her head turned back to watch him, mouth pretty and parted, pink tongue almost hanging out.

“F-fuck, Dick you can't play like that…” Dick had slowed his phase down until his cock barely moved inside her, his thumb threatening her desire with the faintest pressure against her asshole. “Please! please, don’t tease me. I want it!”

“You’re not being clear, Raven.” Dick took his hand off her ass, but her hand quickly shot out, gripping his wrist and placing his hand against her ass once again.

She knew what he wanted,

“Stick your thumb in my asshole, Please! Is that clear enough for you?”

“Fuck, I love you Raven.” Dick dug his thumb into her tight hole as he started slamming his hips against her, small ripples formed across the curves of Raven’s thick ass from the force of his thrusts.

She was obscenely tight around his thumb like her body was trying to push him out. He smiled as his fingers spread wide across the cleft of her ass and reamed into her.

“I-I love you too, Dick, plea- unghh!”

Her body was singing for him, her pussy fluttering around his cock as he thumbed her other hole. His body was on fire, pleasure continue to mount in his core, and Dick wanted to force her to cum again before he did.

Dick grabbed her hair, pulling hard enough that she would feel it in her scalp. Raven yelped and whined, looking back at him, her eyes wide and dark.

“J-Just this time, let me have my way with you, Raven.” Dick started to push his phase, hot water raking across his body as his cock melting inside of her pulsing cunt. “Just let me fuck you the way I want.”

Raven only responded with breathy moans, her ass swinging back to meet his vicious thrusts.

“You don't know how much I missed you Raven, how much I missed you sleeping with me... Your moans, the way you say my name, everything, I really want all that again...”

“M-me too, Please, please... I-I’m Cumming!”

It was like her pussy was trying to choke the life out of his cock, harsh undulations that left Dick’s knees weak as he came only a moment after, shooting rope after ropes into her.

Hot water, hot steam, hot body- Dick was almost heaving, taking deep breathes as he pulled his softening cock out of her grip, sticky and messy, almost as much as her pussy, dripping their mixed fluid against the tiles of the shower.

Raven groaned, feeling completely full and satisfied, her legs failing her as she sank down on her knees. “Setting off all the things… It's really hard to resist when you make me feel this way.”

Dick laughed, turning the tap slightly to a cooler temp as he reached for Raven, bringing her off the floor and resting her against his body.

He kissed her chastely on the neck, letting the water pour over both of them. “It’s only because the way I feel about you Raven, I love you.”

Raven smiled as she closed her eyes and leaned against him,

“I know.”

---

Prompts are open!!

#robrae #dickrae #teen titans #raven roth #raven teen titans #smut #dick grayson #robin #smut prompts #shameless smut #teen titans smut #dick grayson x raven #dick grayson x rachel roth #robin x raven #raven #raven x robin

[longclawislightbringer]

Chapter Six: The Wedding

Rating: T

Relationships: Rosaline Capulet/Benvolio Montague, Helena/Princess Isabella, Livia Capulet/Count Paris, Rosaline Capulet/Prince Escalus (past)

Characters: Rosaline Capulet, Benvolio Montague, Prince Escalus, Livia Capulet, Count Paris, Princess Isabella, Helena, Stella

Summary: Rosaline and Benvolio attend Isabella's wedding; Benvolio makes a confession.

Y’all. I am so excited for you guys to read this chapter. The scenes at the reception and the hotel room were some of the first I imagined when I first got the idea for this fic back in early 2019. I am ecstatic that you can finally read it, and I hope you have fun. Thanks once again to unwrittenmusings for the original prompt that inspired this, and Ry for being such a lovely beta. You can find Ry on Tumblr and AO3. Thanks for reading, and enjoy!

Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven.

Read on AO3.

A beam of sunlight from the part in the curtains danced across Rosaline’s face, gently rousing her from her deep slumber. She blinked lazily, reveling in the dreamy peace of the morning. Her pillow rumbled softly, up and down.

Rosaline shot to full consciousness.

Tangled with his legs and cradled in his warm embrace, she felt Benvolio breathe, steady in sleep.

He gripped her tighter, somehow pulling her even closer. With each minty fresh exhale, he ruffled her satin sleep bonnet as his bare chest seared every inch of her skin and sent her heart racing.

She froze, aware that even the slightest movement would wake him. The hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention while she waited.

When he failed to wake, Rosaline sighed and sank back into the mattress, enjoying the moment. What Benvolio didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. As her eyes drooped, she snuggled into him. Her breathing evened out, matching time with Benvolio as she let the previous day's exhaustion pass over her once more.

Minutes or maybe hours later, Rosaline jolted up when the dulcet tones of the Star Trek theme blasted from Benvolio’s phone.

“Morning already?” Benvolio groaned, rubbing his eyes.

Rosaline jumped to her side of the bed. Maybe he hadn’t noticed that she’d latched onto him like a boa constrictor in the middle of the night. Benvolio sat up and stretched, giving no indication either way.

“That wasn’t so bad, Capulet?” he asked her as he turned the alarm off, revealing a candid picture of her from their fake date at the botanical gardens.

“Hmm?” Rosaline cleared her head. “No, I guess not.”

Benvolio put his phone back on the table.

“You like Star Trek too?”

She forced herself to look away as he rolled out of bed.

“Yep.” Benvolio grabbed an oversized t-shirt from his suitcase and slung it over his head.

Rosaline looked up at him.

“It’s my favorite,” she said, fiddling with the downy white comforter.

“I know.” Benvolio smiled softly at her.

A comfortable silence settled between them.

“I . . .”

She blinked and bolted from the bed, grabbing sweatpants and a t-shirt from her suitcase as she headed toward the safety over the bathroom.

“I’ve got to go get ready with Isabella,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m just gonna change and head out. I’ll see you at the wedding?” She poked her head out of the door.

“Sure,” Benvolio nodded, deflated. “I’ll see you there.”

She closed the door and dropped her clothes on the floor. Tying her hair out of the way, she covered it with a cap and hopped inside the shower. The scalding water almost burned her skin. She lathered up her soap on the washcloth. Maybe if she scrubbed hard enough, she could forget the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. She stepped back under the showerhead; the soapy water ran down her body, swirling into the drain at her feet. With a sigh, she turned the water off and reached for her towel. If only the rest of her day would go as easy as that shower.

She dried herself off as she stepped out. The shag rug on the bathroom floor squished between her toes.

While she brushed her teeth, the aroma of coffee wafted through the bathroom door. Rosaline’s mouth watered. Throwing on sweatpants and a t-shirt, she exited the bathroom to find Benvolio standing at the counter with two to-go cups and a full coffee machine.

“I made some coffee if you want any.”

“Thanks,” she nodded and took the proffered cup from his hand. She took a sip; black, like she liked it.

“Dogberry called,” Benvolio continued. “Our friend struck again last night. Some nurse or something. He and Verges are handling the investigation until we get back Monday.”

“I’m heading out now. See you later.”

As she grabbed her phone and the hotel room key from the counter and draped her bridesmaid’s dress over her arm, Benvolio waved her off.

“See you then.” There was that smile again.

Rosaline attempted to smile back, but it was difficult to feign normalcy while her insides rebelled against her.

“Bye,” she said and left the room.

***

Rosaline shuffled down the hotel hallway past scores of identical room doors, careful to avoid spilling any ice from the brimming silver ice bucket or tripping over her satin bridesmaids’ robe. Holding the bucket on her hip, she rapped on the door to Isabella’s suite.

“It’s me,” Rosaline announced. “I’ve got the ice.”

Someone lifted the chain lock.

Rosaline frowned.

The door flung open; Livia stood in the doorway, eyes wide.

“Thank goodness you’re back.” Livia grabbed her by the shoulder and ushered Rosaline inside, locking the door behind her.

“What’s going on?” She set the ice bucket next to the bottle of champagne for mimosas on the counter. “Where’s Isabella?” She surveyed the room. The hairstylists tittered in the corner, packing up their curling wands. Isabella’s wedding dress hung from the rack with the bridesmaids' dresses, but the woman in question was nowhere to be found. The makeup artists and Escalus crowded around the bathroom door.

Livia fiddled with her hands and looked at the floor. “I don’t know what happened. One minute she was fine, and the next, she’d locked herself in the bathroom."

Escalus crossed his arms. “Isabella, we don’t have time for this. You need to come out now and get your makeup done.”

“Go away, Escalus.” The bathroom door muffled the tremor in Isabella’s voice.

She retreated further into the bathroom.

Escalus threw up his hands in defeat. “I can’t do this.” He turned to Rosaline. “You talk to her.”

“Of course, I’ll talk to her,” Rosaline hissed, “but I need to do this alone.” She shooed Escalus and the make-up artists back into the suite. Escalus stood at the large window in the back of the room, staring out at the street below. Biting her nails, Livia paced nervously in the back. The make-up artists resumed setting out their equipment on the vanity tables provided by the hotel, watching Rosaline’s progress out of the corner of their eyes with bated breath.

Rosaline glared at them; they startled and focused on their work, whistling as if they hadn’t been caught staring.

When the anxiety in the room settled a little, Rosaline knocked quietly on the bathroom door.

“Isabella, it’s me. What’s going on?”

Isabella whimpered, “Nothing, it’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly not nothing.” Rosaline slid down the bathroom door to sit on the cold tile floor. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Isabella shuffled closer. “Not really, but I guess I should.” The door creaked as Isabella leaned against it, settling onto the floor on the other side. “It’s just . . . What if I’m making a huge mistake?” Isabella fretted. The fabric of her robe rustled. “Fifty percent of all marriages end in divorce. I love Helena so much; I can’t stand the thought of not loving her . . .”

It was probably good that she hadn’t gotten her makeup done yet.

Rosaline tilted her head against the door, careful to avoid messing up the updo that had taken Isabella’s stylists an hour to pin into place.

“No one can know the future,” Rosaline said. “You might fall out of love in a few years; I certainly don’t love your brother the same way I used to.”

Isabella smothered a laugh.

Rosaline glanced across the room to where Escalus occupied a vanity chair. One of the makeup artists dabbed his face with foundation. His closed eyes gave the impression of serenity, but his tight grip on the armchairs betrayed him. He snuck a peek at her and raised an eyebrow as the makeup artist turned back to the mirror. She nodded and gave him a thumbs-up. He sighed and motioned for her to hurry up.

“But,” Rosaline continued as Escalus turned his attention back to the makeup artist, “that’s the beauty of life. You don’t know what’s going to happen. If you love her, you should commit to her today.”

“Thanks,” Isabella sniffed. “Can I ask you a question?”

Rosaline tensed, twisting her skirt in her hands. “Go ahead.”

“How did you know Benvolio is the one for you?”

Rosaline winced and cursed Isabella under her breath. There was nothing in the manual on fake-dating your co-worker on how to answer that kind of question.

“Have you seen him?” Rosaline responded cheekily, hoping that would be enough.

“Point taken,” Isabella giggled. “But really, how did you know?”

Rosaline swore again.

“I . . . Uh,” Rosaline stalled, staring intently at the indentations in the tile grout as she curled into herself. “He . . .”

Fiddling with the end of her satin belt, she let it fall back to her feet.

Rosaline breathed in and closed her eyes, picturing lunch on the patio at the Indian restaurant after their fake date in the botanical gardens two weeks ago. Heat spread across her cheeks as the wind whipped through her sundress. The sun set behind Benvolio, ringing him in a halo of golden light as he devoured a forkful of butter chicken. She shielded her eyes from the sun's reflection in the metal side bowls and took a bite of steaming garlic naan, following it with a swig of refreshing, cool mint lemonade that tingled when it rolled down her throat.

“So I said, ‘Which one?’” Benvolio grinned in her memories.

Rosaline melted when she recalled the way he glowed when he laughed at his own punchline.

“He makes me laugh,” she answered softly.

“That’s so sweet.” Isabella snickered. “Okay, I think I’m ready to come out now.”

Rosaline scrambled to her feet as the lock clicked. Isabella opened the door slowly, rubbing her red-rimmed eyes.

“Come here,” Rosaline said, pulling Isabella into a bone-crunching hug. She rubbed soothing circles into Isabella’s back.

“I feel like an idiot,” Isabella pulled away, wringing her hands like she always did when she was anxious, “making everyone wait around for me.”

“Look, everyone gets cold feet.” Rosaline dragged her to the make-up chair. “I’m sure today will be everything you imagined. Now, let’s let these lovely ladies work their magic.” The makeup artist walked over and misted Isabella’s face with a bottle of prep spray.

Isabella grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Thanks, Rosaline. You’re a great friend.”

***

Rosaline took a deep breath.

Blinking under the bright lights, she walked into the hall of Arden Forest Manor, the grandest of the great houses of Verona. The mahogany chairs with white seat cushions that lined the aisle empty a day ago teemed with guests excited for a glimpse of Isabella. Rosaline stepped in time with the string quartet’s rendition of Pachebel’s Canon in D, counting the measures in her head so she wouldn’t miss a beat, toward the front of the room where the officiant, Reverend Hugh Evans, and Helena waited for her bride under an arch of willow branches and white tea roses. Helena’s golden curls glowed in the light of the candles on either side of the arch.

With every step, the sheer organza overskirt on Rosaline’s pale mint dress fluttered out in front of her like gossamer fairy wings. She clutched her bouquet of baby’s breath, peonies, and white roses tight, praying she wouldn’t topple over in the enormous heels Isabella had chosen for her.

Ahead, Livia arrived at her designated post, nodding to Reverend Evans as she passed, and turned to face the guests. Reverend Evans acknowledged her in return. Helena beamed next to him, flanked by the two other bridesmaids Rosaline had barely managed to catch the names of yesterday.

Rosaline passed her by to stand at Livia’s side. Her nose, unfortunately, itched, but she ignored it as Stella glided down the aisle, a vision in baby pink clutching her bouquet of green-dyed peonies with a grip sharp enough to cut off a man’s head. Though she pasted on a smile, it did not reach her eyes until she stood at Helena’s side, joining the two other bridesmaids already there.

The flower girls, Helena’s cousins Rosalind and Celia, and the ring bearer, Isabella’s cousin Orlando, followed her down the aisle. Rosalind performed her job with gust, flinging clumps of white rose petals to scatter on the pale green runner, while Celia waddled after her, placing her petals with delicate precision. Rosaline stifled a giggle as the little girls bounded up to Livia’s other side. Orlando somehow simultaneously gave the impression that he didn’t want to be there and that ring bearing was the most important job he had ever undertaken in his eight-year-old life.

As Orlando finished his delightful walk down the aisle, Rosaline scanned the assembled guests. She found Benvolio in the middle of Isabella’s section, cutting a dashing figure in his tux, although his bowtie was a little crooked. He winked at her with a playful smirk.

Rosaline blushed.

The music shifted; everyone turned their attention to the back of the room where Isabella appeared in the doorway, radiant on her brother’s arm. The congregation stood to watch her pass.

While the familiar strains of Mendelsohn’s “Wedding March” sounded throughout the hall and the electric lights that marked the border of the runner twinkled off the cascade of rhinestones in her hair like starlight, Isabella floated down the aisle guided by Escalus. The full skirt of the high-necked gown swirled with every step, the delicate lace train trailing behind her over the fallen rose petals. All eyes fixated on Isabella, but her attention focused solely on her blushing bride.

Beside her, Escalus beamed at his sister, his dark skin glowing in the soft light and suit perfectly pressed.

At last, Isabella and Escalus arrived at the flower arch.

Rosaline wiped away a stray tear.

Escalus handed his sister over to Helena with a smile, bowing gracefully. His expression only faltered when he took his place between Rosaline and his sister.

Rosaline stepped forward to accept Isabella’s bouquet. Isabella squeezed her hand as she relinquished her hold on the delicate blooms. Rosaline grinned and pressed it back.

Rosaline faded back into place while Isabella turned back to Helena.

Tears brimming in her eyes, Helena took Isabella’s hands in hers.

“You look beautiful,” she whispered, twisting one of the curls framing Isabella’s face.

“So do you,” Isabella replied and pivoted to face the officiant as the music came to a triumphant close.

The officiant cleared his throat. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today . . .”

***

“You look beautiful,” Benvolio whispered in Rosaline’s ear, his hands skimming her waist while they waited to enter the Illyrian ballroom for the reception. His breath tickled.

“Stop that,” she smacked him playfully. “Escalus is right behind us.”

“I know,” Benvolio replied with cool charm. “I can feel him glaring daggers into my back.” Rosaline craned her neck to look over Benvolio’s shoulder; Escalus glowered at Benvolio while Stella furiously texted someone. If looks could kill . . .

Rosaline turned back to the line in front of them.

“At least Escalus is only sending metaphorical daggers your way,” she remarked as the emcee announced Livia and her date. “Stella looks like she wants to bludgeon me to death with her phone.” As the double doors to the ballroom opened, Livia floated through on Paris’ arm, glowing. While they melted into the crowd, the doors swung shut behind them, and Rosaline shuffled up to the x marked on the floor in lime green gaffer’s tape, Benvolio still clinging on behind.

“Our turn now.” Smirking, Benvolio extricated himself and took his place at her side.

“Rosaline Capulet accompanied by Benvolio Montague,” the emcee announced.

As the double doors swung inward, Benvolio offered her his arm. Rosaline looped her arm through the crook of his elbow.

“Showtime,” he winked and led her into the ballroom.

The guests clapped while Benvolio paraded her under the enormous crystal chandelier and across the wooden parquet dance floor. She directed him to the round table nearest to the dais, where Livia and Paris had just sat down with their cousin Juliet.

When they approached, Juliet burst from the table and enveloped Rosaline in one of her signature tight hugs.

“Ros, it’s so good to see you!” She crushed Rosaline tight, a bright smile lighting her face like a Christmas tree. “It’s been too long.”

“And who’s fault is that, miss triple major?” Rosaline joked, squeezing back as good as she got.

Juliet pulled back and shrugged. “You’ve got me there. This semester is kicking my butt.”

She turned to Benvolio, who peeked around Rosaline a gave a slight nod.

“You must be the famous Montague,” Juliet remarked, reaching out a hand.

“I see my reputation precedes me,” Benvolio laughed as he shook it. “Benvolio Montague, boyfriend.”

“Juliet Capulet,” Juliet introduced herself, “favorite cousin.”

“I’ve only got two cousins,” Rosaline grumbled, ignoring the churning in her stomach. “And the other one is Tybalt. He’s probably around here somewhere. We should sit down.”

“Nice to meet you,” Benvolio said while they walked to the table.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am that Rosaline finally came to her senses,” Juliet exclaimed, plopping down in the seat between Paris and Benvolio. “She talked about you all the time. It was frankly a little ridiculous how oblivious she was.”

“Oh, really?” Benvolio leaned forward, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Tell me more.”

Rosaline flushed and crossed her arms as she took her seat.

“One time—“

The announcer cut back in, saving Rosaline in the nick of time, “And now, the new Mrs. And Mrs. Di Veneti-Prince.” The ballroom erupted into cheers.

Rosaline said a silent prayer of gratitude.

“Later,” Juliet winked at Benvolio, clapping loudly as Isabella and Helena entered the room hand in hand. They both glowed as they took a turn around the room, the chandelier light catching on Helena’s golden curls and the sparkling jewels in Isabella’s coiffure. When they arrived at the head of the room, Escalus handed Isabella a microphone.

She tapped it a couple times to make sure it was working.

“Hello, everyone,” Isabella greeted the guests, squeezing Helena’s hand. “We want to thank everyone for coming out to celebrate our very special day. It means the world to us that you all could be here.”

Helena took the microphone from her hand. “Now, let’s dig in!” she shouted.

The crowd cheered again as they took their seats.

“Good, because I am famished,” Livia remarked. “Being in a wedding party really makes you hungry.”

“What are we having?” Benvolio asked, whipping his napkin into his lap with his customary flair.

Rosaline rolled her eyes and unfolded her own napkin. “I ordered you the steak.”

“Thanks, darling,” Benvolio clutched his chest, a telltale smirk dancing at his lips. “I’m touched.”

A waiter materialized behind them, holding two china plates laden with garlic mashed potatoes, roasted rosemary asparagus, and steak drizzled in Bearnaise sauce. He set one down in front of Rosaline and the other in front of Benvolio.

“This looks delicious,” Benvolio grinned at his plate, knife and fork in hand.

The steak sliced liked butter. Rosaline stabbed a piece with her fork, sopping up some extra Bearnaise from the plate before popping the bite into her mouth.

“It is delicious,” she remarked, the Tarragon creating a symphony with the egg emulsion as the steak melted in her mouth.

“So, Juliet,” Benvolio turned to her cousin as he accepted a glass of red wine from the waiter, “you were saying that Rosaline was ridiculously oblivious? I’m intrigued.”

“It was driving us all absolutely crazy.” She nodded, spearing the artful pile of spaghetti on her plate. “One time, we went to the ballet with Livia and our cousin Tybalt. When we got cocktails at the bar before the performance, she would not shut up about her new annoying partner at work.”

“She hated Captain Lawerence for putting you two together,” Livia interjected. “Said you were flippant and lackadaisical.”

Juliet twirled her fork, gathering a large portion of spaghetti. “And then she spent a good fifteen minutes describing your, and I quote, ‘marblesque cheekbones and floppy hair.’ “

Rosaline flushed bright pink and nearly choked her wine as Juliet popped the forkful of spaghetti into her mouth.

Benvolio quirked an eyebrow; Livia snickered into her wine.

“That’s how I knew she was a goner,“ Juliet continued. “She never prattles on about anyone that much unless they made a big impression.”

“I see,” Benvolio laughed.

“I was merely ranting about your work habits on the Lear Case,” Rosaline explained, her ears burning. “I didn’t know how to work with you yet.” She stuffed some garlic mashed potatoes in her mouth.

Benvolio took her hand in his.

“You made a big impression on me too.” He squeezed her hand, and she almost believed him.

Livia cleared her throat.

Noticing three pairs of inquisitive eyes, Rosaline snatched her hand away and took a big gulp of wine.

Juliet had a gigantic smile on her face, like she had accomplished something.

Rosaline glared daggers at her over the brim of her glass.

“Juliet,” she put down her wine glass, “have you made any progress with the hot guy?”

Juliet blushed as red as the tomato sauce on her spaghetti.

“Yes, I want to hear more about this,” Livia leaned in close, resting her silverware on her plate.

“I’m confused,” Paris interjected. “Who’s the hot guy?”

“Juliet saw someone she called ‘the most beautiful man in the world’ at a frat party a couple of months ago,” Rosaline explained.

“I see,” Benvolio commented. “So, have you made any progress with this so-called ‘hot guy’?”

“No,” Juliet confessed, pushing a meatball around her plate. “I see him all over campus, but I never know . . .” Juliet trailed off. Rosaline followed her gaze to the other side of the ballroom to see what had caught her attention but only saw Isabella talking to a handsome man with close-cropped hair and golden russet-brown skin at another table.

“. . . what to say,” Juliet finished, once again flushing with color while she took a big swig of her soda.

The rest of the dinner passed without incident, except for the frequent death glares sent in Rosaline’s direction by the Best Man and Maid of Honor, who both spent the meal stewing in jealousy.

At last, the waiter returned to their table to remove their dishes and bring everyone except Juliet a bubbling glass of Champagne. Juliet accepted her glass of sparkling cider as Escalus rose from his seat at the head of the room, tapping his fork on the side of his champagne flute.

“Can I get everyone’s attention?” he called.

The din of the crowd quieted until you could hear a pin drop. Escalus put down the fork and grabbed the microphone from Helena, who stood at his side.

“I want to think everyone for coming today to celebrate the marriage of my wonderful sister to the best woman I could have possibly imagined for her.”

A roar of applause rose from the crowd.

Escalus raised his glass to his sister.

“To Izzy and Helena,” he nodded. “Izzy, you are the best sister and Chief-of-Staff I could have asked for. We have been through some challenges, you and I, but also some of the best times of my life. I’m so glad that you have found someone that loves you as much, or perhaps, I suspect, even more than I do.”

He turned to Helena. “Helena, it has been so lovely getting to know you this past year. You are incredibly kind and intelligent, and I am so proud that I can finally call you my sister.”

Helena blushed under his praise.

“To Isabella and Helena!” He repeated.

Rosaline raised her flute and tapped it against the rest of the table. The glasses clinked, Champagne sloshing up the sides.

She took a sip of the bubbling Champagne.

Escalus handed Stella the microphone.

She raised it to her lips, trembling.

“Helena,” she began, tears welling in her eyes. “You have been my best friend in the whole world for more than twenty years.” She squeezed Helena’s hand. “I’ll never forget the day we met when I moved to Venice halfway through first grade. One of the boys in our class started picking on me for being so small. I know, hard to believe that I wasn’t always a towering giant.” The crowd laughed with her. “But you took me under your wing and defended me.” Since that day, I knew you were destined for great things. You’ve grown so much, and I am so proud to call you my friend.”

She paused to wipe the tears from her eyes.

“Isabella, it has been wonderful getting to know you these past few months. You are driven, passionate, and ambitious, a perfect match for my best friend. “

Rosaline clapped along with the crowd.

“Congratulations!”

Stella raised her glass, and the rest of the crowd followed suit.

“To Helena and Isabella!” she exclaimed.

“To Helena and Isabella!” Rosaline echoed, taking a second draught of her champagne.

Warmth from the champagne and wine flushed over her as Isabella and Helena crossed the ballroom to the table holding the extravagant triple-tiered wedding cake. Mint green ivy leaves made of fondant climbed up the side of the cake, passing under the white buttercream roses circling each layer.

“That cake looks incredible,” Livia salivated.

“Careful, honey,” Paris laughed.”Your sweet tooth is showing.”

“Thank you all so much for coming!” Isabella spoke into the microphone. “It means so much to both of us that you could be here.” She squeezed Helena’s hand. “Now, let’s cut this cake.”

She handed the microphone back to Escalus.

Rosaline leaned forward in her seat, craning her neck to catch the perfect view.

Hand in hand, Isabella and Helena slowly drove the silver spatula through the topmost tier of the cake. It glided through the layers of decadent frosting and airy cake like butter. With gentle precision, they coaxed a slice from the cake, flopping it onto a porcelain dessert plate. Grabbing some forks, Isabella and Helena speared the cake and brought it to each other’s lips, arms intertwined.

For a second, Rosaline thought she saw a spark of mischievous glee pass over Isabella’s face, but by then, the moment passed as she gracefully bit the cake off Helena’s fork.

Rosaline blew out the breath she was holding as the crowd clapped again.

“Congratulations!” The emcee cut in. The crowd quieted down. “While the rest of this beautiful cake is cut, the happy couple will perform the First Dance. Isabella, Helena, if you could please take the floor.

Giggling, Helena took Isabella’s hand and led her to the floor, presenting her in a circle like a princess. Isabella’s gown twirled when she stopped, swishing back into place. When they assumed their positions, the lights around the dance floor dimmed.

“This is unexpected,” Benvolio remarked, leaning back in his chair with his arms playfully tucked behind his head.

“You’ve met Isabella,” Rosaline joked. “Of course she would perform an elaborately choreographed first dance. They’ve been practicing for weeks. They even got a professional tango dancer to choreograph the routine.”

The music intensified, rising from silence until a few horn blasts pierced the air.

With that, they took off across the floor.

Bright smiles graced Helena and Isabella’s faces as they stepped in tempo, alternating between slow and quick beats.

Isabella giggled when Helena swiveled her into the promenade.

A single tear slipped down Rosaline’s cheek; she wiped it away.

“Are you alright? “ Benvolio asked.

“I’m just so happy for them,” she answered.

Benvolio squeezed her hand.

The music slowed; Isabella and Helena twirled one last time, ending in a deep dip. Isabella’s chest heaved as she lifted herself to kiss her new wife.

Rosaline clapped with the crowd. Breaking the kiss, Helena leaned her forehead against Isabella’s.

“Let’s eat some cake!” she grinned, turning to the crowd.

“Well,” Benvolio slapped his knees and leaped from his chair, “I’m going to get some cake before it all disappears. Anyone else want some?”

“I’d love a slice,” Rosaline answered, finishing the last of her champagne. “A small one, please.”

“Me too!” Juliet raised her hand. “Chocolate for me, please.”

“I could do with some sugar,” Paris cut in. “What about you, honey?”

He turned to Livia, but she already had risen from her seat.

“I’ll help you. It’ll be difficult to carry all of those slices by yourself.”

“Thanks, I appreciate the help,” Benvolio nodded as they joined the crowd gathered around the cake table.

“She just wants to make sure she gets a big piece,” Rosaline snickered when they were out of hearing.

“I do believe you are right,” Paris responded.

Rosaline, Juliet, and Paris sat together for a few moments of companionable silence. Paris drummed his fingers across the table in quick succession, his chill gaze drilled upon Escalus at the serving table.

“Paris,” Rosaline interrupted his musings. “In all the hubbub yesterday about how Benvolio and Stella used to date, I forgot to ask you how you met my sister.”

Like a light switch had been thrown, Paris’s glare disappeared, replaced by a bright smile.

Juliet leaned in. “I’d like to know, too,” she said. “Livia’s never brought a guy home before, so you must be special.”

Paris grew wistful.

“You remember the Globe Incident a few months ago?”

“Of course.” Rosaline flashed back to that horrible day when her cousin Tybalt had started a fight with the Montagues–for what reason, who could guess–that led to Montague Tower catching fire and a terrible multiple car pile-up. Sirens flashed in the background while Rosaline had taken witness statements.

“Who could forget?” Juliet answered quietly.

“I was near the scene when it happened. My car crashed into the burning building.”

“That’s horrible!” Rosaline gasped. She recalled the car in question, a silver SUV, smashed to pieces, the unconscious driver bleeding on the sidewalk in front of Montague Tower. She realized with a start that that must be why he looked so familiar.

“I almost died that day, but someone pulled me from the wreckage and called emergency services.

“I can’t imagine what that was like.” Juliet placed a comforting hand over Paris’.

Paris looked over at Livia and Benvolio, who had made a sizeable dent in the crowd at the cake table. As Livia whispered something to Benvolio, his intense gaze darted back to their table, landing on Rosaline for a second before turning back to their quarry.

“It doesn’t matter now; it’s in the past.”

Rosaline startled, turning back to Paris.

“What is important is that the accident led to meeting Livia.” Paris’ eyes grew wistful while he continued. “When I woke up in the hospital, I thought an angel had come to take me to heaven, but it was Livia. She was my nurse. I wanted to die, the pain was so bad, but she wouldn’t give up on me. I don’t know where I’d be without her.” He grew quiet. “I certainly don’t think I would be running for mayor.” He wiped a stray tear away. “Or have any other projects in the works.”

“I’m glad you found each other,” Rosaline smiled as Benvolio and Livia returned to the table, arms laden with slices of cake.

“We come bearing gifts,” Livia announced, placing two slices on the table in front of Paris and herself before grabbing a third from Benvolio’s forearm and passing it to Juliet.

Juliet licked her lips and grabbed her fork.

“For you, my dear,” Benvolio placed a small slice of decadent chocolate cake with vanilla buttercream in front of her and a vanilla slice in front of himself before rejoining the table.

“Thanks for the chocolate cake; it’s my favorite.”

“I know,” Benvolio winked, cutting off a sliver of his cake with his silver dessert fork and popping it into his mouth. He melted. “This buttercream is absolutely to die for.”

Turning her attention to the slice of cake in front of her, Rosaline eased her fork through the pliant cake, cutting a portion with a perfect proportion between cake and frosting.

She raised the bite to her mouth, chewing slowly to savor the flavor. The moist, dark chocolate cake mixed with the airy vanilla cream, a symphony of harmonious flavors.

“That’s fantastic,” Rosaline swallowed. “You really weren’t kidding.”

“They used Stratford Bakery,” Juliet informed her in between bites of cake. Her enormous slice had all but disappeared.

Rosaline perused the table. Paris and Livia also devoured their slices; only Benvolio appeared to savor his.

When she finished carving her own slice of cake into tiny delectable pieces until it was gone, the opening of WALKTHEMOON’s “Shut Up and Dance” rumbled through the loudspeakers.

Benvolio catapulted to his feet, yanking Rosaline along.

“Come on, Capulet,” he grinned devilishly. “Let’s dance.”

Rosaline shook her head. “I don’t dance.”

“You’ll have fun,” Benvolio pressed her. “I guarantee it.”

He winked.

“Alright,” she blushed, ducking her head as she let Benvolio drag her onto the dance floor. When they reached the center, Benvolio dropped her hand and let loose. Rosaline wrapped in on herself, crossing her arms as she watched the other dancers.

“Come on, Capulet.”

She whirled back to face Benvolio.

He nodded. Slowly, Rosaline began to tap her foot and bob her head back and forth as the music crescendoed. She closed her eyes and tentatively dropped her arms, swaying from side to side as she let the song's infectious joy and the crowd's energy overwhelm her.

“That’s it,” Benvolio said, much closer now.

When she opened her eyes, Benvolio twirled her by the hand.

Rosaline giggled.

He grabbed her other hand, shouting, “Shut up and dance!” with the crowd. They jumped together in time with the music, spinning under the shimmering disco ball at the center of the dance floor.

She collapsed into laughter as the music ended, blending perfectly with the instantly recognizable opening glissando of “Dancing Queen.”

“Isabella and Helena have excellent taste,” Benvolio remarked, falling into a groove.

Rosaline tried to follow his moves with varying degrees of success.

“You’re trying too hard,” Benvolio chided her. “Just let the rhythm move you and have fun. That’s all that matters.”

“I’ll try,” Rosaline answered, listening to the beat.

“See that girl, watch that scene,” Benvolio pointed to her and mouthed the lyrics in that overdramatic fashion of his, which caused her to burst out laughing once again. When she recovered, she rocked back and forth, pulling her arms down in time to that famous beat. “See, Capulet. Now you’ve got it.”

She realized with a jolt that she was having fun.

Even when she was with Escalus, she had never enjoyed dancing—she always put in her customary appearance for one slow dance that required the least amount of effort and then wilted away to watch from the sidelines, picking at the skirt of whatever dress he had bought her for that occasion. Escalus had looked sad for a moment but always left her to her own devices.

Benvolio, however, gently poked and prodded her until she felt comfortable enough to let go and forget about everyone watching them.

It was sweet.

She shook her head to clear it, losing herself again in the melody.

They danced to a few more fast and mid-tempo numbers when at last, the final notes of A-Ha’s “Take on Me,” Isabella’s favorite song, as she reminded everyone around her on numerous occasions, gave way to something slower.

“Alright, you lovebirds,” the DJ crooned into the microphone, “grab that special someone and get on the floor because we’re gonna take it down a notch.”

Rosaline froze, glancing at the head table. Escalus and Stella studied them, both sipping calmly from their wine glasses.

“Don’t pay attention to them, Capulet,” he turned her back to him. “We don’t have to slow dance if you don’t want to.”

“No, we should dance,” Rosaline replied, grabbing his hand. “It’ll make this charade more realistic.”

“If that’s what you want.”

Rosaline almost crumbled under his scrutiny.

“It is,” she answered breathlessly.

Benvolio nodded, guiding her closer to place his hands on her hips. Rosaline leaned in, rocking as she settled her arms on his broad shoulders. Her head rested on his chest, crinkling the crisp blue shirt that matched his eyes.

Benvolio turned them around, swaying gently. Rosaline snuggled in closer; he smelled of spearmint and sandalwood cologne.

“Don’t look now,” he whispered in her ear, “but I think your cousin is dancing with my cousin.”

Rosaline whipped around to see Juliet spinning in the arms of the handsome man she’d been staring at before dinner.

“Very subtle, Capulet,” Benvolio laughed.

Rosaline blinked. “That’s your cousin?”

Juliet flushed bright red when she noticed Rosaline staring at them and ducked her head.

“His name is Romeo,” Benvolio informed her as they spun around.

Rosaline kept her gaze on her cousin as they twirled. —there was something familiar about Romeo that she just couldn’t put her finger on.

”Oh my word, I think Romeo is the Hot Guy.” The realization flashed over her like lightning.

“The what?” Benvolio spluttered.

Rosaline turned her attention back to Benvolio.

“The guy Juliet has been crushing on for months!” Rosaline chuckled.

“The guy you mentioned at dinner?” Benvolio raised his brow.

“The very same,” Rosaline grinned. “This is too funny. I can’t wait to tell Livia about this.”

The shadow of a frown flickered across Benvolio’s face.

“Escalus is still watching us,” he said.

“What does he look like?” Rosaline leaned back on his chest.

He rumbled with laughter. “Honestly, he looks kind of constipated.”

Rosaline snickered.

“What do you want to do about it?” Benvolio cocked his head. “Shall we go big or go home?”

Rosaline quirked an eyebrow. “What’s going big?”

“At the end of the song, I plant a big one on you in front of all of your friends and relatives.”

Butterflies fluttered inside her, dangerously close to where his hands burned a hole through her dress.

She glanced at Escalus; Escalus narrowed his gaze at them, pursing his lips.

Benvolio gave her an inquisitive look as she turned back to him.

“Let’s go big,” Rosaline answered.

“Are you sure?” Benvolio asked. “You don’t have to pretend with me. We don’t have to if you feel uncomfortable.”

“No, I want to.” She smiled. “Let’s make him squirm.”

“You fill up my senses,” the singer crooned over plaintive guitar strings, “come fill me again.”

As the song came to a close, Benvolio cradled her head, caressing the loose curls that had escaped her updo. He leaned in, gently tilting her head to the side.

Rosaline closed her eyes as their lips met. He tasted like Champagne and vanilla buttercream.

Her heart raced again; she swore she saw fireworks over the last chords.

When he pulled away, she immediately felt his absence.

Benvolio rubbed the back of his neck as the next song started.

“I think that worked,” he nodded in Escalus’ direction, his voice cracking uncharacteristically.

Escalus had vacated his seat.

“I think I need to take a rest,” Rosaline muttered, dodging the other dancers to slip off the dance floor. She touched a hand to her still tingling lips.

“Are you alright?” Benvolio rushed to catch up with her.

“I’m alright,” Rosaline collapsed in her seat. “I think I just need some water.”

Benvolio grabbed the glass pitcher from the table and refilled her glass.

The cool water flew down her throat but did nothing to stop her racing heart.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Benvolio asked again, kneeling at her side. He placed a hand on her knee.

“I’m fine,” Rosaline gulped down the rest of her glass.

He poured her another glass, and before he could respond, Isabella and Helena bounded up to the table, both positively glowing.

“I happen to know that the next song is the ‘Electric Slide’,” Isabella winked, “and I know you don’t like dancing, but since it seems you will dance with Benvolio, I thought I might try convincing you.”

“I need a break,” Rosaline sipped her water, “but you should go dance with Isabella, Benvolio. I promise I’ll join you guys in a couple of songs.”

“You promise?” Isabella arched a perfect brow.

“Cross my heart.”

Helena answered. “Alright, but you’d better join soon. It would make Izzy’s day.”

Rosaline nodded.

“Electric Boogie” blasted from the loudspeakers as Benvolio followed Isabella and Helena onto the dance floor. He looked at her one more time.

Rosaline raised her glass and smiled weakly.

Benvolio shrugged and joined the crowd, shimmying his shoulders with the best of them.

Rosaline nearly snorted her water.

A quiet, warm sensation settled over Rosaline as she watched him dance with her friends and family, bathed in the twinkling lights of the disco ball. Livia, Paris with his cane, Juliet, and Romeo had joined Isabella’s line on the other side of Benvolio, while Helena’s parents danced on the other side of their daughter.

“Hi, Rosaline.”

Rosaline nearly dropped her glass when Stella appeared at her side.

“Stella,” Rosaline responded coldly, turning to face the intruder. She placed the glass on the table before she could do something stupid, like throw it at the maid of honor.

Stella flinched. “I deserved that.”

She picked at the fabric on her skirt.

“Why are you here?” Rosaline asked.

“I came to apologize,” Stella sighed, “for my behavior yesterday.”

Rosaline blinked.

“Go on.” Rosaline gestured to the empty seat next to her.

With little aplomb, Stella dropped into the chair and brushed the little wisps of hair that had come loose away from her face.

“This is not easy for me to do.” Stella looked at the floor and took a deep breath. “Yesterday, I was too drunk and way out of line. Your relationship with Benvolio is none of my concern, and I should not have accused you of using him as a rebound to satisfy my vain hope that someday we might get back together.” She looked Rosaline right in the eyes. “I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

She bit her lip and waited.

Rosaline crossed her arms and sighed.

Stella turned her attention to the dance floor, where the spirit of disco possessed Benvolio when “Electric Boogie” gave way to “Stayin’ Alive.”

“I was wrong, anyway,” Stella mused, thoughtfully playing with her diamond bracelet, “if that makes you feel better. Anyone with eyes can see that you guys are in love. You both light up like Christmas trees when the other is around. He never used to smile like that around me, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Thanks, I guess?” Rosaline shrugged.

Stella shot back to her feet.

“I’ve taken enough of your time today. I hope that someday we can be friends.” She held out her hand.

“Maybe.” Rosaline shook it once. “You’re a much bigger person than you seemed. I accept your apology.”

Stella nodded and left the way she came, pausing to grab a glass of champagne from a waiter.

Rosaline watched her leave before standing herself, intending to rejoin her friends on the dance floor.

Someone lightly tapped her on the shoulder.

“Rosaline,” Escalus entreated. “I need to talk to you.”

Rosaline whirled to face him, crossing her arms.

“What now?” she snipped. “Have you come to insult my relationship again?”

Escalus looked at the floor.

“No,” he sighed. “You two looked really happy out there.” He turned his gaze to the dance floor. “You never would dance like that with me.”

Benvolio and Helena danced in circles around a giggling Isabella. Rosaline picked her glass off the table, swirling the water.

“And Isabella seems to like him. When I told her you two were together, she didn’t say anything because she knew it would hurt my feelings, but I could tell she was bursting at the seams with excitement.”

He turned back to Rosaline.

“Do you trust him?”

She almost choked on her water.

“With my life,” she responded, when the water had run its course, and the coughing subsided. “He’s my best friend.”

It wasn’t a lie.

Escalus clasped her forearm and gave it a squeeze.

“I hope you’ll be happy together. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Thank you,” Rosaline responded.

With a pained smile, Escalus melted back into the crowd just as the opening bars of “YMCA” blared out of the loudspeakers.

Benvolio quirked an eyebrow from the dance floor when he noticed Escalus leaving.

Rosaline shrugged, trotting onto the dance floor.

Isabella lit up like a firecracker when she spotted Rosaline dancing toward the group.

“Rosaline, finally!” She shouted over the music. She grabbed Rosaline by the hands and twirled her into position.

Rosaline cackled, wisps of hair whipping her face.

As the first verse began, Benvolio leaned in and whispered, “What was that all about?” just loud enough that she could hear over the music.

Rosaline failed to suppress a wicked grin.

“Apparently, whatever we’ve been doing the past two days worked—Escalus just apologized to me and said he hopes we’ll be happy together.”

“Wow,” Benvolio snickered. “That’s good news then.” Another inscrutable look passed over him. “I guess that means we’re almost done.”

Rosaline’s heart plummeted.

“Right,” she answered. “Guess we better enjoy it while we can.”

The inscrutable look was gone, replaced by a wide smile.

“That can be arranged,” Benvolio grinned.

The music swelled around them, crescendoing in short horn bursts to the first chorus.

“It’s fun to stay at the YMCA!” Rosaline belted out and threw herself into the rhythm.

Benvolio danced with equal fervor, his eyes sparkling with mirth in the light of the disco ball.

Rosaline laughed, wishing this moment would last forever.

***

“I cannot believe we got away with this,” Rosaline snickered as she skipped down the hallway to their hotel room, swinging her heels by the strap. “I mean, Escalus and Stella apologized.”

She waited for Benvolio to swipe their room key.

When the door opened with a click, she followed him into the room, dropping her heels by the door.

“Wait,” she paused while the door closed. “Is this what getting away with murder feels like?”

Benvolio was uncharacteristically quiet as he tossed their room key onto the desk and struggled with his bow tie.

“I’ll get that,” Rosaline closed the distance between them. She attempted to ignore how his breath hitched when she grabbed the ends of his tie, but her heart somersaulted anyway. “I suppose I have you to thank for your excellent performance. You were an incredible fake boyfriend.” She unlooped the tie, letting the tails rest against his chest.

She moved to step back, but Benvolio grabbed her by the wrist.

“That’s just it, Capulet.”

Rosaline blinked.

“What do you mean?”

Benvolio let go of her hand and sighed, tapping the table nervously.

“It wasn’t just acting to me.”

He stopped fidgeting, focusing all of his attention on her.

Rosaline’s heart skipped a beat.

“I have feelings for you, Rosaline.” He struggled to speak, as if the words were fighting to come out. “I have for a while now. Pretending to be your boyfriend only made everything clearer.” Rosaline burned under his bright blue gaze.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Benvolio flushed bright red at this admission.

Rosaline froze, eyes darting around the hotel room to avoid looking at him. Her stomach twisted in knots.

“Please say something,” Benvolio pleaded, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“Benvolio, I . . .” Rosaline stuttered, picking at the shoulder chain on her clutch. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind, jostling with each other for her attention. “I . . .”

Benvolio expected an answer; every second that she did not respond, the faint smile on his face turned downward.

Her chest constricted.

“I . . . I’m sorry.”

She whirled and darted from the room.

From him.

As she sprinted down the hallway, the door to their room slammed behind her.

She didn’t look back.

#save the date #rosvolio #rosaline x benvolio #still star crossed #ssc #valentines in verona #modern au #fake wedding date #detectives #everyone can see it #murder mystery #fake dating #bachelorette party #drunk dialing #and there was only one bed

[whiteraven96]

. Thursday, January, 11th, 2024. - K.L.C.

Congested with throbbing legs, paired with the morning sun peering in is how I felt when I first opened my eyes. Watering and tearing up; Squinting and unleashing my less than savy breath into the atmosphere. Hopefully nobody smelled it..

Cleaning up in the washroom while finishing the rest of a basic routine within my sleeping quarters; Focusing so intently on my eyes, I dress them up with a few eye tools, rather than makeup. The eyelash curler I used to brighten my eyes, relinquished the need for cosmetics for at least part of the day. I'm looking ready for anything.

I remove my Jewlery from various parts of my body and set it safely within my possessions. Just to let the skin breath; We all need a basic look once in awhile, in order to really appreciate our appearance.

Focusing on the fresh water running into the sink basin, I let it run into my hands. Rubbing them together gently to remove hidden dirt and oil. Once untarnished, I cup the clear liquid into my hands and start rubbing in circular motions and imagine porcelain. I grab my White soap and achieve a high quality lather to temporarily attach to my skin. Once the suds bubble and open my pores, I count to One Hundred Twenty (120). Grabbing my cloth. I exfoliate any imperfections away patting dry with another cotton cloth. Grabbing my high powered mouthwash, I spit that nasty taste out of my mouth and use my soft bristle to scrub away yesterday's stains. Minty fresh.

I pat my hands, fingers and palms dry up to 6 inches above my wrists. I can be a bit extra when it comes to my "basic routine". I walk back into my original space and set myself on my bed. I grabbed my Lavender colored hand mirror and show my rat tailed black comb to it. I adjust it gently to the roots and pull back; Creating volume while lifting at the crown area, Soft waves fall gently coiled at the ends releasing a fine designer scent.

I spray one more spritz of my current favorite perfume to entice my nostrils for a bit longer. Sipping slowly on my morning beverage to enjoy it's rich flavor and try to think what else I might consume. I am craving salt and sugar until it is driving me mad.

I walked into the kitchen to grab a cold spoon from the freezer instead of food. Letting it rest upon the dark circles under my eyes and watching them brighten almost immediately. The people I know were able to converse with me easier today compared to the unusual embarrassment I experience. It seems easier to breath. Removing my night wear, I slip into my casual threads to heighten my alertness.

A women's Dark Plum Cardigan with a basic black women's T-shirt on top; A pair of Robin's Egg Blue soft name brand loungewear pants under it. Colorblock tomboy socks to keep my feet stylish and protected.

I turned on the Flat Screen Television to indulge in various series available on Satellite beside the fireplace. Allowing the apartment to collect the warmth from the preset thermostat against the wall. Walking myself over to the area with the mirror facing forward beside it. Scanning the fireplace, I light a scented white candle with a long lighter to induce good feelings. Closing my eyes to relax, once I return to my original position, I begin to meditate.

#blog #writing #creativewriting #karyonacittadino #blogpost #creative #personal #2024 #food #WhiteRaven96 #writing community #female writers #writer #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writers and poets #writerscreed #writers #internet #Tumblr #Tumblrpost #Typing #English #America #Newyork #UpstateNewyork #Story #Shortstory #Nonfiction