#bit mean of them to leave the cake out taunting them

[worth-the-chaos]

Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: Billy is still hitting on you, Steve’s still mad, and Dustin’s still a pain in the ass to babysit. When he tells you and Steve that there’s a massive problem of upside down proportions, the two of you have no choice but to drop everything to help the boy, reprising your roles as badasses who eradicate the supernatural in Hawkins.

Content Warning: swearing, upside down shit, billy being an ass, stancy, anxiety and tense moments, fluff, protective!steve

Word Count: 7.0k

Author’s Note: Still a slow burn but Steve and the reader’s relationship is slowly starting to develop in this part! More of this chapter also represents Steve’s perspective on things, which was really fun to write. I also got to write more interaction with Dustin, which more is obviously yet to come, but I hope you guys enjoy!

Series Masterlist | Part 2 | Next Part

***

While your conversation last night had helped him calm down a bit about Nancy’s comments about their relationship, Steve was still trying really damn hard to keep his cool about it. After all the years of being an asshole and putting himself first, he knew he didn’t deserve for things to go his way. But it was his senior year. He had hoped at least something could go according to plan, but shit seemed like it just kept finding new ways to hit the fan.

This turned out to be especially true when he was in his P.E. class, playing basketball against the same ass who wouldn’t leave you alone at Tina’s last night. Gym was the one class he didn’t usually have to worry about, his athleticism allowing it to be a distraction from his other responsibilities. In other words, it was a piece of cake. Besides, outside of study hall, it was the only class he was taking that you were also in. He would be lying if he said that it didn’t give him a bit of an ego boost to know that you were always there to watch him show off with whatever sport they played. He happened to excel at all of them.

That was until this asshole Billy showed up. Steve was pretty sure Billy was still mad about the way he interfered in his futile attempt to seduce you last night, and it was showing on the court with the way Billy was shoving at Steve every chance he got.

“Alright, alright, King Steve everyone,” Billy taunted, laughing as he dribbled the ball, “I like it, playing tough today.”

“Do you ever stop talking, man? Come on,” Steve rolled his eyes. He was just about done with this dude’s shit.

“What? You afraid that coach is gonna bench you now that I’m here? Huh?” Billy asked, getting closer and closer to Steve. He shoved into Steve, causing the boy to take a hard fall, hitting the ground pretty hard, before Billy tossed the ball effortlessly into the hoop.

You rolled your eyes from the bleachers. Boys are so fucking stupid. You were glad coach didn’t care what the girls were doing during class, more focused on the extra practice that his team was getting in; the one time sexism paid off. Most of the time you just brought homework to work on, using the class as an additional study period.

You saw Billy grab Steve’s hand to help him up, saying something to him you couldn’t quite hear, before shoving him back down to the floor.

“Alright, let’s take five everyone! Go get water, stretch, whatever, just be back in here otherwise I’m marking you absent,” your coach yelled out the empty threat, and you hopped off the bleachers and made your way over to Steve.

“So, today doesn’t really seem like your day,” you teased, offering your hand to help Steve up. He gladly took it, happy that at least through all the (as Nancy would word it) bullshit, you were still there, something he couldn’t say for his girlfriend at the moment. He shoved the thought down.

“Evidently not. You know, that Billy Hargrove kid is a real pain in my ass,” Steve fumed, “I mean first he shows up driving like a mad man in the goddamn parking lot, and now he won’t stop fucking shoving me. Like hello? Is that not a fucking foul?! And don’t get me fucking started on him coming on to you at Tina’s last night and refusing to leave you the hell alone until I had to get involved. What if I wasn’t there? What would he have done to you? I swear if he talks to you one more—“

You cut him off, “woah, woah, woah, Steve. You need to calm down. He’s just an ass, it’s not worth your time. Plus, you know I can handle my own and he’s left me alone since then, so I’m sure it’s all going to be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“That’s what you don’t get, y/n. I’m always worried about you,” he sounded exasperated and his tone was angry, but you knew it was misdirected. You tried not to flush at the sentiment. You knew that he cared but sometimes it still surprised you considering a year ago you were largely blissfully unaware of each other’s existence.

You decided it was best to give him a few moments to calm down. “I swear it’s all going to be fine,” you promised as you headed back to the bleachers. As you turned around, you suddenly realized that Nancy was there, gripping her purse strap as she made eye contact with you. She smiled a half smile and waved, and you wondered how much of last night she really remembered. You waved back as you took your seat.

She motioned for Steve to follow her outside and he hesitantly obliged, clearly not super excited about the conversation they were about to have. As soon as he cleared the doorway, you noticed a presence to your left turning to be met with the face of Billy Hargrove. You felt your heart stop in your chest. Even though you told Steve you could handle things on your own, it was a lot easier said than done.

“What do you want?” You demanded, facing forward to avoid giving him the satisfaction of your full attention.

“I just feel like we got off on the wrong foot is all,” he said, and you could hear the fake charm dripping from his lips like poison. You knew there were girls here that would fall for this shit, but you certainly weren’t one of them.

“I don’t know, I’m pretty partial to abiding by the first impression you set and I’m not feeling so generous as to give you a do over.”

He chuckled, “you’re feisty. I like that, you know.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what you do or do not like. Now if you could kindly leave me the fuck alone, I think your dumbass game is starting back up,” you nodded towards the court and the boys who had started to pass the ball again.

“You’ll see. You’re gonna give me a second chance, just wait,” he predicted as he hopped down the bleachers to join his classmates. Once he hit the court, Steve made his way back into the gym and you were thankful for the timing. The last thing you needed was these boys trying to kill each other. Steve looked a little bit defeated and you couldn’t help but wonder what Nancy had said.

Gym went on per usual for the last fifteen minutes of class: girls largely sitting in the bleachers, boys trying to show off for them, until the two groups finally parted ways to change and clean up in their respective locker rooms before the bell rang in ten minutes. You waved at Steve as you made your way out of the gym, and he offered a half-hearted one in return.

Steve’s conversation with Nancy had gone just about as bad as he thought it would. Of course she didn’t remember the shit she said last night; that would be too convenient. Steve was still hung up on the fact that she couldn’t even tell him that she loved him. Was it all just a lie?

Steve headed over to the showers and undressed, hoping that the hot water could wash away some of the anger he was feeling. He had a tendency to be hot headed at times, but he was trying to turn over a new leaf. He was trying to be better, and he wasn’t going to let his temper get the best of him.

He watched as Billy made his way over to him, picking the shower to his right as turned the water on, “don’t sweat it Harrington. Today’s just not your day, man.”

Perfect, this was just perfect. Steve ignored him, continuing to run shampoo through his hair.

“More like not your week,” Tommy H added as he stepped up beside the two boys, “you and the princess break up and she immediately runs off with the freak’s brother.”

“Bullshit. I just talked to her.”

“Oh shit, you don’t know,” Tommy smiled, happy to have found more shit to throw at Steve today. “Jonathan and the princess ran off after your little conversation. She got in his beat up old car in the parking lot and it looks like they’re ditching the rest of the day. But that must just be a coincidence, right?”

Tommy laughed as he turned the water off and walked away.

“Don’t take it too hard, man,” Billy spoke up, “a pretty boy like you has got nothing to worry about. Plenty of bitches in the sea.”

Steve continued to ignore him, not having the time or energy for his shit, when Billy reached over to turn off the shower, leaving Steve soap covered and angry. He patted Steve on the back before walking away, adding “I’ll make sure to leave you some. Not y/n though. I’ve got my eye on her.”

Steve glared at him before aggressively turning the water back on. He hadn’t known about Nancy and Jonathan running off together, and frankly right now he didn’t’ care. He had always gotten weird vibes from their relationship. Hell, if he was being honest, they were probably the same vibes that Nancy got from his relationship with you. He didn’t really have time to think about all of that though, instead fuming over Billy’s persistent obsession with you.

Billy had only been here for a few fucking days and he was already causing problems Steve didn’t need. He could put up with the snide comments and taunts, but the second he came for you again, Steve’s patience would be out the window.

What a hell of a senior year.

***

It was a Saturday afternoon. Normally you didn’t babysit on Saturdays because Mrs. Henderson was off work, but she had called you the night before, saying she needed you. It was kind of hard to tell what she was saying because she seemed very upset, her emotion leaking into her voice and making her extremely difficult to understand. Something about her…cat being missing? Either way, you were headed toward the Henderson household, frustrated that you’d lost one of your only free days of the week, but you needed the extra cash, so here you were.

Before you could even make it up the porch steps to knock so that Dustin could let you in, he was flying out the door, bumping into you and knocking you off balance in the process.

“Code red! I repeat this is a code red!” He yelled into his headset as he darted past you, heading to grab his bike from the front lawn. You rolled your eyes and pivoted.

“Dude, what the hell?” You were ready to yell at him, to lecture him to be more careful, but he was mounting his bike and pedaling down the street before you could even conjure up the words. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going? You can’t just leave!”

“Y/n, I’m sorry! It’s an emergency! My mom’s bike is in the garage and I’m headed to the Wheelers’, but I have to go, now! Please don’t kill me!” He yelled over his shoulder as he got farther and farther away from you.

“I don’t know how to…ride a bike,” you started off yelling before going back to a normal speaking volume as you sighed, realizing your shouting was futile. With no other options, you thanked the universe that you had worn your tennis shoes today, and took off sprinting towards the Wheelers’.

Simultaneously, Steve was headed to the same location. He’d stopped to pick up a bouquet of roses for Nancy on the way, feeling the need to sort things out with her before it was too late. He wasn’t ready to give up on them just yet and he hoped that the gift would work like a bit of a peace offering to reset the balance and make everything okay again.

He parked his BMW in front of her house, rehearsing what he would say when she answered the door as he got out of his car.

“Listen, I’ve been thinking, I love you, I’m sorry….I’m sorry? What the hell am I sorry for?” He muttered as he made his way towards the front door.

“Steve! Are those for Mr. or Mrs. Wheeler?” It was the Henderson kid. Steve didn’t have the time for this, looking at the boy in annoyance.

“No?” He replied, confused at the boy’s line of questioning.

“Good,” Dustin replied as he grabbed the flowers and made his way towards Steve’s parked car. A rose fell from the bouquet in the process and Steve leaned down to pick it up before following the child.

“Hey! What the hell?”

“Nancy isn’t home.”

“Where is she?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dustin started, “we have bigger problems than your love life.” He opened the passenger door. “Do you still have that bat?”

“Bat? What bat?” Steve asked. Why the hell is this kid getting in my damn car?

“The one with the nails?” Dustin clarified, throwing his hands up in a way that irritated Steve. Of course that was the bat the kid was talking about. How could he possibly have not known that considering the fact that it had been sitting in the trunk of another vehicle for a full calendar year, untouched?

“Why?”

“I’ll explain it on the way,” Dustin replied as he sat down. Steve was a bit thrown off by how immediate this had to be, not really in the mood to chauffeur the Henderson boy around. He felt anxiety creep up in his chest as he thought back to the last time he had to use the bat in question.

“Now?” Steve clarified as he jogged towards his car.

“Now!” Dustin confirmed as he slammed the car door shut. Steve quickly slid into the driver’s seat, starting the car and putting it in gear. He was about ready to pull away when hands slammed against his window, causing him and Dustin to scream out, alarmed by the sudden noise.

There you were, huffing and puffing from your impromptu run through the neighborhood. The anger on your face was glaringly apparent, neither boy recalling a time that you’d looked that mad before. And Dustin especially had done enough to make you pretty damn mad. You yanked the car door open and collapsed in the backseat of the BMW.

“What the hell y/n? You scared the absolute shit out of me! I could’ve run you over or something! Where the hell’d you even come from? Why are you even here?” Steve turned around to yell at you. You glared up at him with fire in your eyes, continuing to pant as you aggressively pushed a strand of hair aside that had fallen out of your ponytail and into your face.

“Do you want to tell him or should I?” You growled as your gaze shifted to the Henderson boy, who was attempting to shrink into nothing in the front seat.

“I-I told you that you could take the bike?” He squeaked out, clearly afraid of your wrath. You were usually so calm all of the time, so the rage permeating through the car was borderline terrifying.

“I don’t know how to ride a goddamn bike!” You screamed as you squeezed your eyes shut. It was embarrassing, but you were too frustrated right now to focus on that.

“That….well, that was an oversight on my part,” Dustin replied.

“Wait, she’s fucking babysitting you and you took off on a bike and left her behind? What the fuck dude?” Steve interjected, angry on your behalf.

“Yeah, I could have walked you to the damn Wheelers’ house! Leaving me like that was way out of line, asshole.”

“It is an emergency!” Dustin attempted to defend himself, “I’m sorry I left you by yourself to walk—“

“Run.” You corrected.

“—to run after me. But I’m not going to apologize for leaving because some crazy ass shit is going on and I need help. Big time.”

Looking at the boy it was clear that something was very wrong. Normally he was pretty happy go lucky, but now he was pretty damn stoic. Your anger slowly faded as you thought to what the boy could possibly have meant by the code red earlier.

“It…it-it’s not…it’s not what I think it is, is it?” You whispered, unable to really get the words out.

“It’s probably exactly what you think it is,” Dustin pinched the bridge of his nose. Despite the fact that the boy had left you behind, you could understand his reasoning. This Upside Down shit was not something to be taken lightly, and you were glad you and Steve were here now to help him so he didn’t have to figure it out on his own.

Before either of you responded, Steve put the car in gear for a second time, pulling away from the Wheeler residence. You guys were already losing light and Steve’s house wasn’t super close, meaning that time was of the essence.

“So…it’s the demogorgon,” Steve finally spoke up, saying what you had been unable to earlier.

“Well, not exactly,” Dustin started, “on Halloween, I found this…thing in my trashcan, really small you know—non threatening and the like—and I did some research and thought it was a pollywog—“

“A polly-what?” Steve interjected.

“A pollywog. Kind of like a tadpole, but that’s not important. Anyway, I kept it and I named it D’Artagnan, Dart for short, because I thought I had discovered a new species. Turns out I wasn’t entirely wrong because it molted last night and it’s definitely a precursor to a full blown demogorgon.”

“Shit,” you whispered and your right hand instinctively went to grasp your upper left arm, shielding your wounds from your previous encounter with the beast.

“How big did you say this thing was again?” Steve asked, not entirely convinced that this was as large a threat as Dustin was making it out to be.

“It started out like this,” he held his hands close together, “and now it’s like this,” he added as he spaced them significantly farther apart. You shuddered; if Dustin wasn’t exaggerating, this thing was now closer to the size of a small dog. It had only been a few days since he found the thing, how long did you guys have until it was the hulking nine-foot monster that had attacked you last year?

“Dude, it’s probably just some little lizard, man,” Steve began trying to brush the boy off.

“It’s not a lizard!”

“How do you know it’s not just some lizard?” Steve shot back, annoyed at the fact that this could potentially be a false alarm. Throughout Dustin’s explanation Steve kept looking at you in the rearview mirror and he could tell you were starting to get worked up over the potential of another supernatural threat.

“How do I know it’s not some lizard? Because his face opened up and he ate my cat,” Dustin deadpanned, bothered by the fact that Steve wasn’t believing him. This answer seemed to be acceptable as Steve dropped the subject, nodding, not really sure what he could say.

“Wait, Mews is dead?” You asked, your heart dropping a bit. You loved that cat; she was such a good study buddy when you were killing time at the Henderson household. Dustin just nodded quietly from the front seat.

None of you really knew what to say, so you sat in silence as Steve drove the rest of the way to his house. You all needed time to process this; time that you didn’t have. As he pulled up, you paused to take in the sight of the Harrington household. It was huge, an elaborate display of wealth that almost made you sick to your stomach. He unlocked the trunk of another vehicle, most likely an extra one that was used on occasion, pulling out the bat that he had used to save your life last year.

“Alright. Let’s do this,” Steve sounded confident, not allowing his voice to waver in the slightest. You all went to pile back into the BMW, Dustin heading for the passenger seat again when Steve grabbed him by his collar, stopping the boy in his tracks. “Nice try, pipsqueak. You’re in back.”

You chuckled as Steve opened the door for you. You spent the ride back to Dustin’s focusing on what potential horror may lie ahead of you. At least it’s smaller this time, you kept telling yourself. If you could take on a monster several feet taller than you last year, you could kick the puppy sized equivalent easy, right?

Dustin took you around the back of his house to the cellar. Despite the fact that it was locked shut, you still approached it with caution, not entirely sure of what the monster inside of it was capable of. The three of you stared at the closed doors, not really sure what you were waiting for.

“I don’t hear shit,” Steve finally spoke up, referring to the silence coming from the cellar below. If there was one thing that you knew from your supernatural encounter last year, it was that this thing was far from quiet. Sometimes you would wake up in a cold sweat, the memory of the low growl, the chattering, the screeching, coming back to you in your most vulnerable state.

“He’s in there,” Dustin promised. Steve began to hit the metal doors with the bat, still not entirely convinced. When there was no response, Steve turned to the boy.

“Alright, listen kid, I swear if this is just some Halloween prank, you’re dead,” Steve looked him dead in the eye. He knew from Halloween night how much this still affected you and if he was being honest, the experience still took a toll on him as well, so if this punk kid thought he was going to prank the two of you by forcing you to relive the most terrifying experience of your lives, he had another thing coming.

“Woah, woah, woah, how about we calm the fuck down? I get paid to babysit this damn kid, and I’ll be damned if I let you touch a hair on his head,” you got between the two boys, glaring up at Steve. Even though he had changed, you didn’t trust that his hot headedness wouldn’t return in a momentary lapse of judgment. Steve thought you looked entirely too maternal, and it made his heart skip, but he put his hands up and rolled his eyes. You turned toward Dustin.

“That being said. If this is a prank, I’m going to be pissed the fuck off,” you shot the boy a warning glance before adding, “now, do you have a key for this thing?”

Dustin tossed you the keys, but Steve intercepted them before you could catch them. He unlocked the doors, pulling them open to reveal a very dark and uninviting looking cellar. It was the kind of darkness you would have been afraid of as a child, worrying that the shadows housed imaginary monsters. However, this time you weren’t a kid and those monsters were far from imaginary. You and Steve pointed your flashlights down there, illuminating the cellar floor to display the nothingness. It was almost more unnerving than if the monster had just been there…almost.

“He must be farther down there…I’ll stay up here in case he tries to escape,” Dustin was quick to add, being so kind as to volunteer to stay far from the potential danger. You and Steve stared at him in disbelief. The nerve of this kid.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding, dude. It’s your problem, and you’re gonna be an absolute wimp about it after we’ve spent our afternoons chauffeuring you around town?” Steve fumed, about done with Dustin’s shit.

“I’m still in middle school! You guys are at least a modicum closer to being adults than I am, so it only makes sense that—“

You cut him off, swiftly grabbing the nail bat from Steve’s grasp. “You both are a bunch of cowards,” you sighed as you started making your way down the stairs. Behind you, you could hear the sounds of arguing between the two of them, each one shaming the other that they had let you, a woman, go down there alone.

“What the hell man? You’re really gonna let her go down there by herself? Not cool”

“She wouldn’t have gone in the first place if you hadn’t immediately wimped out.”

“I’m in eighth grade! You’re a fucking senior! You go down there! Man up!”

Chivalry is dead, you thought as you pulled the string to turn on the overhead light.

Your heart stopped when you saw the slick pile of shedded skin sitting in the middle of the cellar. This thing was bigger now. You felt the anxiety creep up in your chest and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you readjusted your grip on the bat, struggling to grasp it as your hands trembled. That’s when you noticed the gaping hole in the side of the cellar. You cautiously approached it, realizing it was tunneled out farther than the light from your flashlight could reach. The thought of what was lurking in that hole made you shudder.

Meanwhile, the boys finished their futile argument, not realizing you had completely disappeared into the cellar, now out of view. Steve and Dustin, stared at each other, wide eyed and panicking, realizing how gravely they had messed up.

“Y/n?” Dustin yelled hesitantly down the steps.

Upon hearing no response, Steve’s heart rate picked up and he spoke up as well, “y/n, what’s going on down there?”

Suddenly, you popped around the corner without warning, causing the boys to jump. “Get down here,” your tone was serious and the boys swiftly made their way down the cellar stairs, finally joining you as they should have done in the first place. You picked up the molted skin of Dustin’s discovery, showing it to the boys.

“Oh shit,” Dustin whispered, but when you pointed out the gaping hole in the cellar, he repeated it more emphatically, “Oh shit!”

“Yeah, ‘oh shit’ is right. We need to find it,” you turned to look at the boys. You wouldn’t let it roam Hawkins again. You wouldn’t let another Will get taken or another Barb get killed.

“It’s too dark out to do anything about it tonight,” Steve reminded you. There was no safe way for you to catch this thing. You had no game plan, no supplies, nothing.

“Steve,” you begged, looking up at him through your lashes. Even though you knew he was right, it made you nauseous to think about leaving this for tomorrow. You didn’t know how you would sleep tonight knowing that that monster was unaccounted for.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, but we just can’t. You know that. Think about how awful it was last time and we knew where the damn thing was and had a whole ass warning system for when it showed up. We can’t just walk out into the woods in total darkness expecting to find it and come out unscathed. We just can’t,” Steve replied, looking at you with sympathy. He didn’t want to leave this for tomorrow either, but you were just going to have to settle for that. There wasn’t another option.

You took a deep breath and nodded. Dustin turned to head back up out of the cellar, exiting the main room, out of sight as he bounded up the stairs happy to be out of there. When you turned to follow, you felt a gentle hand on the small of your back. You turned to face Steve and he moved his hand to your upper arm, placing his other hand at the nape of your neck. You looked him in the eye and swallowed the lump in your throat. This was the most sincere you had ever seen him.

“Hey, everything is gonna be okay. I’m gonna make sure of it, I promise,” Steve said quietly. You breathed in deeply and nodded, trying to trust him even though all of this was wildly out of your control. He let go of you reaching his hand between you, pinky extended, just like it had been in the library.

You felt a pang in your chest. That was how your lives should be; just two dumb high school students studying, thinking about what colleges you were going to go to, making stupid promises about parties that were more fun in theory than they were in actuality. Not whatever this was. But nonetheless you took his pinky in yours and you hoped with all your might that he’d be able to keep his promise; that everything would be okay.

“Hello? Are you guys coming? Did the demogorgon come back and eat the two of you alive?” Dustin’s voice rang out, sounding annoyed as it echoed in the open cellar.

“Not funny!” You shouted back, the moment between you and Steve fizzling out, as you dropped each other’s pinkies, making your way out of the cellar. You shut the heavy metal doors, triple checking that they were locked before standing to draw up a game plan with the boys.

“Alright, how about I pick you both up around 10:00 tomorrow morning?” Steve asked, looking between you and Dustin.

“That works. Dustin, your mom’s home, right? Her car was in the driveway, yeah?” You asked, making sure that Dustin wasn’t alone.

“Yep, everything should be fine here. Well, other than the whole Dart-ate-my-cat thing but yeah, I’m good. Your babysitting services are no longer needed for the evening.”

You walked him to the front door and thanked Mrs. Henderson as she paid you for watching him on a weekend. You could tell the poor woman was still distraught about her cat, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang in your chest. You and Steve made your way back over to his car and he opened the passenger door for you once again. He started driving towards your subdivision when you spoke up.”

“Steve, stop.”

He was getting flashbacks to Halloween, when the discussion of Barb had been too much for you to handle. “Woah, y/n is everything okay?” He asked, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I just…I-I don’t want to be alone,” you stammered, “my parents work nights and I just have a bad feeling about all of this, and I’m not quite ready to be by myself. Can you just give me a minute to calm down a little?”

You looked up at Steve innocently, your facial features twisted with worry. It was a look that could break him. He remembered his promise to you; that everything would be okay. He decided that this is where that promise started. He didn’t say anything as he turned down a side street with a cul-de-sac, making his way back to the top of the street before turning in the opposite direction of your house.

“Steve, what are you doing?”

“You can stay at mine tonight. My parents aren’t home this weekend anyway so it’ll be fine,” he assured you.

“Are you sure? I really don’t want to intrude,” you asked quietly, hoping that he didn’t change his mind.

“‘Don’t want to intrude’ my ass. The first time you came to my house you practically almost knocked down my door!” Steve laughed.

“Hey! It was an emergency! What was I supposed to do? Clearly I had exhausted all other resources by that point. The Henderson kid is a problem, you can blame him,” you defended yourself, giggling as you recalled the first time you sought Steve out.

“Nah, I’ll just thank him instead. It turned out to be a really good thing for me, you know?” He smiled at you. He was right; Dustin being a hellish child to babysit ended up turning out pretty damn good…aside from all of the paranormal, supernatural bullshit you were both knee deep in.

But that didn’t matter right now, as Steve turned on the radio, the two of you singing out of key to the latest hits as he drove off towards his house.

***

Sure, it was dark out, but it wasn’t too late yet, so Steve took you out back by the pool. You couldn’t imagine living in a place like this. In theory it would be awesome, but then you thought about how often his parents were gone, not to mention how hard they were on him, and you decided that you were better off in your small but loving home.

“So, yeah, this is the pool. I would say we could go for a swim, but it’s a little too cold for that,” Steve chuckled.

“Not too cold to sit out here, though,” you smiled as you took a seat on one of the lounge chairs.

“Be careful, you might get a sunburn,” Steve joked as he took a seat in the chair next to you. He thought about how the two of you had gotten to this point. Before you had knocked on his door that fateful day last fall, he had noticed you around school, but mostly just enough to know that you were a bit of a loner and you made good grades. Hell, he had almost reached out to you once or twice when his parents were on his ass about his poor performance in his classes, but he had always scoffed and rolled his eyes. Because how could he, King Steve, ever reach out to you?

He wished he had. He wondered how different things would have been. If he would have fallen in love with Nancy or if he would’ve been spared the heartache. He’d never know but he couldn’t help but contemplate how different your relationship would have been if you hadn’t been brought together by trauma. Maybe she wouldn’t have even wanted to speak to me, he reasoned.

“You know, if you told me a year ago that I would be hanging out one on one with Steve Harrington at his house, I would’ve called you crazy,” you had gotten up, moving to sit by the side of the pool, kicking your legs back and forth in the cold water.

“I was just thinking about that actually,” Steve admitted, “do you ever wonder how different it would be if we met before all this shit happened?”

“I mean, to be honest, not really. I think we both had some growing to do before we were ever going to get along. Last year kind of forced us to grow up a little faster than we really needed to. Maybe that’s a bad thing, but right now it seems pretty good to me,” you looked at him with sincerity. You meant every word of it.

“What do you mean both of us? I was the one that was an ass, you were perfect all on your own beforehand.”

You flushed with the praise, “no, seriously, I had some growing up to do too. Back then I thought I had you all figured out. I was confident that you were just some asshole jock, and I wouldn’t have guessed you had the capacity to change. I kind of stuck to myself, and I didn’t have a lot of friends, so I guess in a way, I was a bit jealous of you. People just gravitate towards you; I blend in so much I might as well not even be there.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, Billy sure is noticing you,” Steve muttered, and you couldn’t contain your laughter. You wish he’d stop being so focused on that, but you knew how protective he tended to be, so it made sense that it would still be on his mind after how Billy had treated you on Halloween.

“Yeah, that definitely doesn’t make me feel better; actually quite the contrary,” you chuckled, “you know, on paper you both should get along.”

“That’s so not true.”

“Think about it! You’re both athletic, flirt too much for your own good, have pretty good hair, popular beyond my wildest imagination, and you guys are both chick magnets. Forgive me for seeing some similarities,” you smirked. You knew it would set him off, which is exactly why you said it. If you were being completely honest, his frustration was a bit amusing at times.

“Yeah, but he’s like a complete asshole! I would never have just grabbed you like he did at that party. That was not fucking cool. Like yeah, of course he’d want to talk to you, look at you, but couldn’t he have just introduced himself and struck up a damn conversation instead of immediately getting handsy and shit? Like fuck!”

“What do you mean of course he’d want to talk to me?” You asked, baffled. You hadn’t really dated at all because no one was really interested in the weird alt girl who, despite all stereotypes, was killing herself to make good grades.

“I hate to break it to you, but you’re pretty. And you’re not like every other bitch. You’re different and you stand out because of it. In a good way. Now stop being self deprecating and get inside, we’re going to have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn so we can pick up your damn kid,” he offered you a hand to help you up from the ground, which you gladly took, trying and failing not to flush at the compliment.

He led you upstairs after giving you a tour of the main level. “Here is the guest room, you can sleep in here tonight. Wait here a second,” he added as he darted across the hall, disappearing into what you assumed to be his room. You took in the sight of the guest bedroom. It was perfectly set up, and though it was pristine and tastefully decorated, something about it felt cold and lonely; impersonal.

Before you could think about it too much, Steve returned with a stack of clothes in his hands. “You can wear these. I-I assumed you didn’t want to sleep in jeans. It’s just, um, it’s just a pair of my sweatpants and a t-shirt, but I can take them back if you’d rather just you know, keep those on,” he said as he gestured to you and your outfit. You chuckled as you took the stack of clothes from him.

“Thanks, Steve. I really appreciate it,” you smiled up at him through your lashes.

She’s gonna be the death of me, Steve thought, as he felt his cheeks heat up from your gratitude. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, no problem. Um, well…I’m right across the hall if you need anything. Sleep well, y/n,” he smiled at you.

“Sleep well, Harrington,” you replied, entering the guest bedroom. Once Steve was no longer with you, you felt all of your fear and anxiety invade your consciousness again. You swiftly changed and looked at yourself in the full length mirror hung on the wall. I could get used to this, you thought, feeling butterflies in your stomach from the fact that you were in Steve’s clothes. It all felt too domestic. You were beginning to blur the line between friends and something more, and the thought made you a little nauseous. You weren’t sure you were ready for that.

But as you laid in the big bed in the very empty and lonely guest room, fear crept up in your chest, and you decided that none of that mattered as you quietly crossed the hall, knocking softly on Steve’s door. He answered almost immediately, a concerned look across his face.

“Is something wrong?” He quickly asked, his hands hovering around your frame as he scanned you up and down to make sure nothing was amiss.

“I-I just…I still think I’m not quite ready to be by myself,” your voice was small and you looked down at the floor, embarrassed. You felt weak and wished that you were strong enough to face this without needing someone to lean on. But that’s what friends were for.

“Of course! Yeah, um I can sleep on the floor and you can take my bed, I have an extra pillow in the—“

You cut him off, “Steve! You are not going to sleep on the floor.”

“Uh, yeah I am?”

“Over my dead body,” you shot back, “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“You’re a guest!”

“Yeah, a guest that’s being difficult!”

“Y/n,” he warned.

“The way I see it we’re either both sleeping on the floor or we’re both sleeping in the bed, so take your pick Harrington,” you replied, pinching the bridge of your nose. Nothing could be easy with this boy.

“I sleep on the left side,” he sighed as he flopped onto the bed. You flopped down next to him, and you both turned to face away from each other. You felt your heart rate slow as the fear dissipated from your body, your shoulders finally being able to relax. Steve made you feel safe, and you wouldn’t trade that for anything else.

If only you knew that Steve felt the same way about you, and that you were the only one keeping his panic at bay. There was so much uncertainty in his life right now; Nancy, college, demogorgon-upside-down bullshit. Everything felt like it was going to shit, but you were the one thing that was going right.

You were the only constant he had right now.

As the two of you drifted off to sleep, it was the first time in a long time that either of you felt truly at peace. As the night went on, the distance between you began to disappear, as you slowly shifted towards each other, your legs tangled together under Steve’s soft sheets. Tomorrow would likely bring more pain, uncertainty, and problems, but right now that didn’t matter. All that mattered was the two of you, in Steve’s bedroom, sleeping so soundly that for a moment things seemed right with the world.

***

a/n: Thanks so much for reading! Please let me know what you think! Also, if you feel so inclined as to reblog, I would not be mad ;)

#joe keery #stranger things #steve harrington #friends to lovers #steve harrington fanfic #netflix #steve harrington friends to lovers #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x reader blurb #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfiction

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Birthday to Remember

Summary: You're birthday celebration is crashed by an unexpected guest. (Steve Rogers)

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, fingering, flirting, public canoodles

Note: @punishmepunisher said Evans was rocking a suburban dad who drinks applebee's margaritas and listens to Jimmy Buffett so this happened.

Please enjoy and let me know what you think. Please also reblog because it's a lot longer than I intended.

You laugh over the rim of your appletini. The overly sweet drink goes down too easy as Charlotte calls for another round. It’s not exactly the thirtieth birthday you dreamed of, but you can’t complain for the company.

It’s almost fitting as you enter your third decade, the downhome atmosphere of the Applebee’s; the staticy classic rock buzzing from the speakers, televisions playing sports games over the bar, where men in golf shirts and khakis nurse Heinekins and cheer on their favourite batters. The old jokes don’t stop as Charlotte and Tatiana hide behind the few months until they cross the line of the big three-o.

“You think you can handle another round, grandma?” Tat giggles as she looks around for the waiter.

“Shut up,” you grumble and roll your eyes, “just you wait, you’ll regret it.”

“She’s getting cranky in her old age,” Charlotte cracks and drains the last of her pina colada.

You harrumph and cross your arms as you sit back against the plastic cushion. The waiter stops by as Tat calls for another order.

“I shouldn’t have trusted you two with planning this,” you bemoan, “I mean, really?”

“Oh, come on, you said no clubs,” Charlotte taunts, “so we went with something more your speed.”

“Let me guess, we’re hitting the funeral home next?” You scoff.

“That’s next year,” Tat cackles.

You shake your head and sit through their roast, the waiter bringing you a second appletini as you thank them. You’re gonna need at least half a dozen to get through the night, especially with these two.

The bright green liquid dwindles as you gulp it down eagerly, listening to Charlotte chatter about her new Tinder match. A cute redhead she claims. You haven’t had much luck on the app despite her many flings. You feel as if you’re doing something wrong and Tat is once more in her on-and-off hookup with her old college roommate.

As you’re ready for a third, pondering changing up the flavour, a sudden lull goes up as the crackle of a sparkler breaks the din. Several waiters approach singing happy birthday as you cringe and sink down in your seat. Charlotte and Tatiana join in out of tune, drawing out the song annoyingly as the cake is placed on the table before you.

You growl before you blow out the candles and the servers proclaim you next drink on the house. You smile and thank them, holding back your humiliation and ordering one of the blue drinks on special.

“Right,” you say as you’re finally left to wallow with your so-called friends, “I’m gonna break the seal.”

“Already? Oh, shoot, there goes her bladder, we should’ve brought the depends,” Tat jokes and you give her another snarl.

You leave them to their laughter as you climb down from the booth and head towards the signs beside the kitchen. You take your time, hiding in the stall as the alcohol flows into your veins and gives a bit of a tint to your vision. You wash your hands and stare at your reflection.

You don’t look older. You don’t feel it either. Thirty isn’t so bad. Give it a couple years and your few strands of grey will be streaks. You twist off the tap and yank out some paper towel to dry off.

It’s a bit louder as you come out into the restaurant. The bar’s growing raucous as bottles clink onto the wood top and the avid ball fans cheer for their team in the ninth inning. As you pass behind the stools, a body stumbles into you as he slides off a tall stool.

A large hand catches your lower back, steadying you before retracting abruptly.

“Oop, sorry about that, I didn’t see ya there,” the man takes a step back, resting his hand on the leather of his vacated seat, “oh, you’re the birthday girl, huh?”

“Oh, uh,” you glance over at Charlotte and Tat as they speak over the table, slurping from their thin straws, “yeah, my friends are a bit dramatic.”

“Here, let me buy you a drink,” he offers.

“Oh, no, no, that’s fine. It’s nice of you but–”

“I insist, come on,” he waves to the bartender, “what are you drinking?”

“Really, I can’t, I gotta get back to my friends,” you insist.

“Bah, make them wait, they don’t seem to miss you,” he peeks at them over his shoulder, “Steve, by the way.”

You nod, uncertain about the man. He’s older than you. Forty at least judging from the patches of silver at his temples that weave back into his golden hair. Even so, he’s not bad looking.

You return your name, another wary look to your table, and you fold your hands anxiously.

“Another margarita,” he orders over the bar and turns to you, “well?”

“Um, vodka soda,” you say, sticking to the same liquor. If you don’t feel your age, you definitely feel the alcohol.

“Here, all yours,” he pats the stool and steps away as the bartender begins his mixing.

“No, it’s fine–”

“I insist,” he points to the seat, his voice firm, fatherly almost, “sit.”

You hold back a sigh and step on the crossbar and haul yourself up. He stands beside you, his elbow on the bar as he digs out his wallet. He pays as your drinks are set down and tells the bartender to keep the change.

“You’re too nice,” you say, “buying a complete stranger a drink.”

“Stranger? I know your name, you know mine,” he says smoothly.

“Right,” you put your fingers on the cold glass, “I guess.”

“So, how old are you now? Wait, wait,” he raises his large hands, “let me guess,” he taps his chin as he thinks, eyes roving over you, “twenty-three?”

You nearly choke as you suck on the straw and scoff, “try again.”

“Hmmm, up or down?” he asks. You point at the ceiling and his brows shoot up, “oh, I see, aging gracefully.” He pauses to drink from the tall green neck of his beer bottle, “Twenty-five?”

You shake your head and give him a doubtful look, “you don’t have to lie, it’s not working.”

“Twenty-six?” He tries again, the same glower aimed back at him, “no? Shit, uh,” he hooks his thumb in his belt and hovers his glass before his lips. He squints at you and takes a slow drink, popping his lips off the rim as he thinks, “don’t tell me you’re thirty.”

You nod, “yep, thirty.”

“Jeez, well, you look good for thirty, trust me, I know,” he chuckles, “damn, I’m old.”

“Are you?” You wonder.

“Take a guess,” he leans on the bar as he crosses one foot over the other.

“I don’t want to,” you say, “I wouldn’t want to offend you.”

“What? Come on, I can’t look that old, I’m sure you can get it.”

“Steve,” you pluck his name out of your mind after a moment of grasping, “I don’t know.”

“Come on,” he goads.

You press your lips together and take another sip. You peer over at Charlotte and Tatianna. They’ve noticed and they’re watching none too subtly.

“I should get back to my friends,” you say again.

“You guess my age and you can go,” he says, “so?”

“Uh, I don’t know… thirty?” You utter weakly.

He laughs, “be serious,” he slides closer, brushing against your legs.

“Forty,” you resign in a stony voice.

His cheek ticks, “warmer.”

“Okay, er, forty-two?”

“Getting there,” he tilts his head.

“Higher or lower?” You ask impatiently and slide to the edge of the stool, wanting to get back to the table. 

“Higher,” his tone rolls in his throat smokily.

“Um, forty-five?” You bluster helplessly.

“Bingo,” he wiggles his glass at you, “fifteen years, huh? Not that much but enough.”

“Sure,” you say, confused, “well, I–”

“Hey,” Charlotte interrupts, “hate to butt in but we were getting a bit antsy so we cut the cake.”

“Here,” Tatiana hands you a plate with a slice, then offers another to Steve, “we figured we bring you some.”

“I’m coming back, it’s–”

“Thanks,” Steve takes it and sets down his drink, “you guys have some wild plans for the rest of the night?”

Tat gives a prolonged glance in his direction before her and Charlotte share a coded look, “well, that’s the thing. I have a girl waiting for me at my apartment and Char here has a guy blowing up her phone, but our friend, single as the day she was born.”

“Tat,” you hiss under your breath as Steve laughs.

“And she’s thirty. Tick tock,” Charlotte adds, “she won’t be able to score a sexy older man for much longer.”

“Shut up,” you growl.

“So, we’ve had our cake and ate it too,” Charlotte smirks, “so the table is all yours.”

You blink at her as you try not to seethe in anger. 

“Go on, enjoy the rest of your birthday, babe,” Tat adds as she adjusts her purse, “we’re just gonna share a cab.”

‘I hate you,’ you mouth over your glass before you take another drink.

They giggle and give a wave, “see you later, you can tell us all about it tomorrow,” Charlotte chimes as they strut away.

You gulp down the last of the bitter vodka soda and place it on the bar, “well, that was not uncomfortable at all. I’m gonna go grab my things and disappear.”

“Wait,” he says as you drop off the stool, your plate nearly toppling out of your hand, “you gotta have your cake. It’s your birthday.”

“I… guess,” you bite your lip, “but you don’t have to–”

“I think it’s pretty obvious that I want to,” he says, “so?”

You feel bad saying no, even if you’re uncertain about him. He’s friendly enough but you don’t exactly go for the suburban Applebee local. He did buy you a drink though so the least you can do is be polite.

“Sure,” you say, “I can’t eat all that cake alone.”

He grins and turns back for his margarita. You lead him to the table and sidle onto the bench. He slides in beside you to your surprise as you set down your plate. He’s close as he sits next to you and settles in.

“I prefer vanilla,” he says as he jabs his fork into the chocolate sponge.

“I don’t mind either,” you say as you mirror him. This is going to be an awkward night. Charlotte and Tatianna are going to pay.

“So, you must be from town?” he asks before taking a bite.

“Yeah, east end,” you answer.

“Ah, I live up in Chester,” he swallows, “pretty tame over there.”

“That’s close,” you say awkwardly, never very good at the whole conversation with a stranger thing.

“I look like the type, eh?” He glances down at his striped golf shirt.

“I didn’t think about it,” you lie, focusing on your cake as sweat beads on your scalp. He smells like bergamot and citrus,

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he says as he stretches his arm behind your head, his fork clinking against the plate.

“I’m not,” you reach for the forgotten blue cocktail you ordered before your venture to the toilets, “really.”

“So what do you do? You seem like a teacher type.”

“I do? Didn’t you think I was twenty-three?”

“Well, now I know you’re not. Maybe you’re a lawyer? You like to argue.”

“I’m not arguing,” you stop yourself, leaving the last bit of your slice untouched as you twirl your fork nervously, “I work in curriculum development. Not quite a teacher.”

“Ah, I knew it was something like that,” he puts his fork down on his empty plate and takes a napkin to wipe his lips, crumpling it up and tossing it with the silver. “You must work hard, no time for guys?”

“Just haven’t gotten to that,” you shrug as his arm falls onto your shoulder. You wriggle and try to shrug him off, “it’s warm in here,” you fan yourself as the fork shakes in your hand.

“Well, you’re damn hot, aren’t you?” he purrs as he leans in.

“Wha– I– Can you back up?” you choke out, “please.”

“Come on, baby, just a little fun for your birthday,” he turns towards you on the seat, blocking out the restaurant with his shoulders.

“Okay, no, you’re too–”

He shoves his hands between your legs and you gasp, clamping your thighs around his fingers.

“Hey,” you grab his wrist, “don’t do that–”

He curls his arm around your head and smothers your mouth with his other hand. You murmur into his palm as he forces his hands up to the seam of your leggings. Your eyes round as heat surrounds the pressure of his rough touch. His breath fills the tight space as he pulls your against him.

You’re almost in his lap as he places his chin on top of your head, hugging you to him as he rocks his hand. It’s painful as the coil winds within, the weight of his hand against your clit twists it tighter and tighter. You garble as he shakes your whole body with his rhythm and hushes you.

“Doesn’t that feel good, honey? Hm?” he keeps two fingers against your folds as he presses the heel of his hand against your bud, “fuck, I feel you getting wet through these things.”

You whimper as you latch onto his thick forearm, his scent drowning you as the alcohol laces through your hazy mind. He moves his fingers up and down, tracing the seam and pushes on the stitches with his nail. The fabric split and he tears the hole a little at a time.

You tremble as you claw at him, begging him in muffled sniffles to stop. He feels along the edge of your panties and inches them aside, delving between your wet lips. You bat your lashes in horror as he coos at you under his breath.

“Fuck, you are wet, honey, hm? You like being my little slut. With all these people around too…” he dips his fingers into you, wiggling his hand against your clit as he curls his knuckles, “yeah, you’re gonna cum already, aren’t you?”

The noise all around blurs; voices, the radio, the television, and the clatter of plates from behind the kitchen doors. You suck in air as your eyes roll back, the tingle spreading across your thighs as your hips rock without thinking. He squeezes as the fire bloom and smatters across your pelvis, an orgasm spiking against your will.

You puff against his hand as you squeeze his wrist and shudder through your climax. He eases you through, your walls twitching around him in rebellion. Slowly, he slips out and lets you go. You pants as you brace yourself against the cushion as he untangles his arm form your neck.

He puts his elbow on the table and admires his glistening fingers. You reach between your legs to feel the tear in your leggings, your cunt tender to the touch. He winks at you as he licks his fingers and pushes them into his mouth with a hum.

He pulls them out in a deliberate motion, “tasty,” he smirks and turns his hand, checking the time on his watch, “damn, I told the wife I’d be home at ten.”

You gape at him as he takes a deep swig from the curved glass and slides off the seat. You quiver as you sit up, watching him dumbly as you try to understand what just happened.

“See ya, honey,” he waves with the two fingers he just fucked you with, “happy birthday.”

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #one shot #maybe? #mcu #marvel #au #captain america #silverfox au

[nerdieforpedro]

No panties is a Problem

Francisco Morales x plus size female reader

Fanfiction: 18+

Masterlist

Summary: Frankie decides to take something of yours and doesn’t do so well with your ignoring him so he feels he needs to do something about it.

Notes: I wrote it for Frankie Friday, it’s posted a bit late but before midnight. Just two petty people with some smut.

Warnings: smut, stealing an item, fingering, Frankie feeling a bit feral

“Bebita, you know the drill by now, right? You know what you gotta do to have me give them back.” Frankie had an extremely smug grin on his face. He stood between you and the door out of the office you were speaking in. Your hands were on your wide hips, shaking you head, trying to figure out how you could snatch you panties out of his right chest pocket. The two of you had gotten away for a make out session, not unheard of at a monthly Santiago cookout. Your dear Frankie had taken things a bit too far, when he wanted to taste your wetness on the small loveseat in the room. You had said no, know you would be too loud for anyone who came inside the house to use the bathroom would likely hear you, meaning and screaming was your forte and Frankie loved making you go hoarse. He wasn’t terribly mad that you said no, that should have been the sign to grab them, but you were trying to smooth your dress and momentarily forgot how strong he was as he pulled your black panties off you and nearly one of your flats with it.

“Frankie, my love, give them back. I’m not playing with you Frankie!” You threatened, eyeing his chest. The pilot continued to grin and waved a finger at you, taunting you, daring you to rush him. You decided against that, he had too long of a reach and was too strong. The best course of action would be to just leave. Frankie relished in your attention, good or bad, so ignoring him should do the trick. You just didn’t like being without underwear with people who were not your boyfriend. It was weird. Did he not think it was weird? “Fine. Francisco, you win. Keep, them smell them. Just don’t let anybody see them.” You sighed and brushed past him, pinching his arm as you could be a bit petty at times, really you both could.

Morales, watched you maybe and was stunned that you were going back without your underwear. It must have bother you right? Or maybe it doesn’t? Which did he find hotter? No matter, he needed to make sure your panties were secure and see how this played out.

The next hour went fine, everyone drank and ate, listened to Benny’s stores of his MMA matches for the 10th time, Frankie watched you as you glided from the hamburgers to the desert table, your dress rising a bit as you bent to take a look at the cakes and brownies. Frankie swore he saw a sliver of your asscheek before he was interrupted by Will asking him if he had seen Benny. He quickly replied no and turned back to look at you, but you were off talking to Santi’s wife about whatever you all talk about. Will left with his curt answer and Frankie, stood up, he needed to find you now. The game was not fun. It made him want to pin you down and fuck you inside the house now. Well, maybe he could give it five minutes to drive home, but either way, where were you? It turned out, Santi’s wife was introducing you to some guy Santi was mentoring, he had seen the guy before. Appeared nice, fine. What did he say to make you laugh though?

Frankie didn’t like it one bit. He walked over, gave a head nod with a good night following it, and pulled you away. You said good night as well and followed, but snatched your hand away once you both got to the truck.

“Francisco Morales, why the hell are you being so rude? And pulling me like that…I get that you’re mad but…” You attempted to reprimand him, but he pinned you to passenger side door and grabbed one of your legs, raising it as he traced a finger along your cunt. “Fuck Frankie, you can’t here…I’ll…” His lips cut you off next, breathily stating in between that he would keep kissing you so you shouldn’t make too much noise. His digit entered and you hips bucked, the cool air had done nothing but tickle your clit for the last hour, your arms wrapped around your pilot’s broad shoulders as his finger pumped in and out of you, trying to make you cum, eventually your lips parted and you buried your face in his neck, biting and sucking it to try and keep yourself from moaning too loudly, it was failing so Morales decided to slip in a second finger, feeling your walls close around his fingers even more, he curled them making your back arch and you to yelp. 

“Such a needy woman you are, after walking around with this tight pussy. Everyone’s going to hear you and see you cum on my fingers bebita.” Frankie licked your neck and bit your earlobe, making your buck your hips more, grinding on his fingers as he continued to pump them, drawing them out further and ramming them in. He was purposely prolonging your climax. “Show them why you need that throat coat tea and those lozenges, I leave you speechless don’t I cariño?” Morales, began to run his bulge on your legs you were balancing on, you were trying to bit your lips, holding in your moans, but when he his thumb to circle your clit, your drench slit gushed over his hand and you screamed his name, Frankie was quick to kiss you, so it muffled, halfway. Your body became rigid and them limp in his arms, holding you tightly, he licked his fingers in front of you, giving you a pack afterward so you could taste yourself.

He used his nose to trace a line up and down your cheek, moving his hands to your hips, he moved you aside a bit and opened the door for you. You were able to climb in weekly, to which Frankie slapped your ass and closed the door. Laughing, you put your seatbelt on and peered at Morales in the moonlight, the glow of his ever-playful eyes. 

“Oh God Frankie, that was…amazing. I guess I shouldn’t wear panties and parties then. Though I really do hope no one heard us.” You coo, putting a hand on his thigh as he started the truck and pulls out of the driveway. 

“No, you have to. Your ass is for me to see only. You’re lucky I just used my fingers. I was planning on taking you in the house and in one of the bedrooms.” He smiled as one of his hands landed on your thigh as well, patting it. “We’re going home so I can have my meal. I only got a taste.” Morales licked his lips, his foot heavy on the gas.

“Eat all you want Frankie; I’ve got plenty of my tea.” You giggled, knowing exactly what type of night you were in for.

Tag list: @fhatbhabie @morallyinept @pedritapascal @pascalsanctuary @nissaimmortal @grogusmum @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @goodwithcheese @iamasaddie @psychedelic-ink @modernperplexity @pamasaur @pedrodascal @marcus-is-my-muse @clawdee @mintypossum @trulybetty @perotovar @joelslegalwhre @josephquinnswhore @mandoisapunk @awilderi @deviinci

#frankie morales #fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #frankie friday #frankie morales x reader #Frankie morales x plus size reader #frankie morales smut #drabble

[lovelynim]

TickleTober2023/Day 16 - Sweets

Genshin Impact - Ningguang x Beidou

“So… how is it?” Ningguang asked nervously, fiddling with her apron as she watched the captain take a bite. This wasn’t usual at all - neither the place where she was, nor the idea of her serving someone else instead of being served. Yet, Ningguang was eager to hear the answer to her question.

“Hmm,” Beidou hummed, leaning her head back slightly as she swallowed the small bite took seconds ago. “For a beginner, not bad.”

Ningguang’s eyebrow twitched, making the woman sigh. “Couldn’t you be a bit more polite? Maybe a bit of encouragement?”

Beidou laughed, grinning as she looked to the other. “I would never lie to you,” she said, making Ningguang roll her eyes.

It was a bit too sweet, but Beidou knew how much effort Ningguang put in baking that cake for her. Besides, getting to see the Ningguang herself dressed so casually and actually trying to make something instead of ordering someone or simply buying it?

Ningguang huffed, reaching out for the plate in front of Beidou, but before she could take it, the captain took it away. “Huh? If you didn’t like it, you don’t have to finish it, captain.” She said in a stern voice tone, but Beidou only smiled, even taking another bite from the cake.

“I said it’s not bad for a beginner, not that I didn’t like it,” Beidou added before continuing to chew another bite. “It’s just a bit too sweet, but I like it. It reminds me of you,” she teased, winking to the lady in front of her.

“Agh, you-” Ningguang groaned, almost losing her cool - the only thing she had left after messing up in the kitchen for so long. “Give it back!”

“Make me, Ningguang,” Beidou continued with her challenging tone, the same she used to taunt her crewmates into sparring sessions. What the captain didn’t take in account, however, was the fact that her woman wasn’t part of her crew.

Leaving all her dignified acting behind, Ningguang quickly moved around the table that kept them apart. Before Beidou could realize, she was already cornered, holding the plate above her head and out of Ningguang’s reach.

And, then, like a lightning striking a boat in the middle of the sea, an electric sensation ran up her body. Sparkling from her side and going all the way to her head, forcing a helpless smile out of her smug facade. 

“Hand it over, captain,” Ningguang insisted, using one hand to scribble over Beidou’s side and ribs, while trying to snatch the plate from her with her free hand.

That wasn’t fair, Beidou thought, but she couldn’t just back up after all she said. “H-hehey, whahat a-are yohou up toohoho?” She gritted her teeth, putting up her best efforts to not smile any further.

“Sparring you from eating a half-bad cake, captain, what if your crew thinks I poisoned you?” Ningguang groaned, adding a bit of drama in her lines while she dug a little harder on Beidou’s side.

“O-ohoh plehease,” Beidou giggled, not sure if she should use her free hand to push Ningguang’s hand away from her side or away from the plate in her hands. “It tahahakes more than a sweehehet cahake to pohohoison me!”

Feeling another hit landed on her ego, Ningguang decided to step up her game. Using her nails, she scribbled freely against Beidou’s stretched torso, putting into test the captain’s will into keeping the cake to herself.  “Stop acting like a child! Hand it already”

“Who ihihis beheheing c-childish, Ningguahahng?!”

“You, of cour-”

“Ahm, captain?” A voice broke through the room, making both of them stop in the middle of their banter. Quickly recovering her collected posture, Ningguang stood aside, looking over her shoulder to see Kazuha standing in the door. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interr-”

“You are not, ahem, you are not interrupting anything, Kazuha,” Ningguang said, looking to the captain next to her, already spotting the blush on her face. Such a terrible actress, she thought, “right, captain?”

“Y-Yes, Lady Ningguang and I were just… trying out some sweets.”

“I see,” Kazuha smiled, assuming it would be better to not quest any further, “it’s just that ms. Keqing is looking for you, Lady Ningguang. She claims to have important matters to discuss with you.”

“I’ll be upstairs in a moment, Kazuha, thank you,” she smiled, watching him leave the two of them back by themselves. “So, where were we?”

“W-what?” Beidou choked, placing the plate down, “don’t you have… work to do?” She giggled nervously, watching as Ningguang leaned on her.

“Don’t worry,” she smirked, gently wiping a bit of cream left on the corner of Beidou’s lips with her thumb, finally tasting some of her own cooking. “I’ll make it quick.”

The cake was, indeed, too sweet.

A/N: I never said I know how to write proper GL, but I never said I'd stop doing it, ehe

Hope you guys liked it!

#miya&mia's tickletober #tickletober2023 #genshin impact #genshin impact tickling #beidou #ningguang #beidou x ningguang #beiguang #lee!beidou #ler!ningguang #ticklish!beidou #tickle fic

[llama--plumbobsims]

#busted #bit mean of them to leave the cake out taunting them #but i really wanted to make this post okay #secret garden challenge #sgc gen 1 #the sims 4 #ts4 #the sims 4 legacy #sorrel whitfield #isaac lin #ella lin #kit lin #helena lin

[likeastarstar]

Birthday Boy

summary: WARNING! smut ahead. It's Namu's birthday and you're in love with him and his body and how it looks in the shower.

masterlist.

Your boyfriend was a menace.

Seriously, who wakes up at the ass crack of dawn to workout on their birthday of all days? Wasn't anything sacred? Surely his birthday, the day that should be considered an international holiday, was a good enough excuse for a cheat day.

But no, Joon had left you so early you were only just waking up as he returned back the apartment you shared after exercising. You laid in bed, half asleep, watching as your boyfriend immediately shoved his socks off, the sleeveless compression shirt he had on following quickly after. He couldn't even be bothered to wait until he was in the bathroom to strip down, pushing his gym shorts off his hips along with his underwear already balled up in his fists by the time he was halfway across the bedroom.

He took note of your laying form but because of the massive amounts of pillows you insisted on having, he couldn't tell you were awake and currently ogling his extremely perfect, extremely buff, super sexy, oh wow he is gorgeous, body. Maybe him going to the gym was a blessing, maybe you should be more grateful. You were certainly grateful when he turned towards the bathroom and you got to stare at his ass.

Namjoon had the most perfect body in the world, broad, rolling shoulders, his thick neck perfect for biting down on, his soft pecs that you liked to lay on despite the aforementioned mountain of pillows on your bed, the chiseled abs rubbing down the length of his torso and disappearing with two lines dragging directly into the neatly trimmed dark hair of his lap.

His thick thighs you insisted on sitting on far too often, his thighs that you had a habit of rubbing absentmindedly underneath restaurant tables when you went out until he forced you to stop- citing the risk of him popping a semi before dessert. You loved his back, muscular and strong, his arms as equally as pleasing when they were wrapped around you. You had recently become somewhat of a masseuse, gleefully running to get the massage oil when Namjoon came home sore from the gym.

It was the little things.

He was perfect- an adonis among men and that's before you even got to who he was as a person- which was also, shockingly perfect. The kindest, most wise person you had ever known. You loved his big brain as much as his big body and it was your favorite person's birthday today.

His birthday!

You sat up with an excited squeal, running to follow Namjoon as you heard the shower start. He was already in the shower by the time you had stripped off your pajamas, back facing you as he washed the sweat off of himself. You stepped into the steaming shower quickly, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him from behind.

"Happy birthday," You smiled, kissing his back where your face was pressed against it. His hands covered yours and squeezed in response before turning around in your arms so that he was facing you with his own shy smile, dimples on full display.

"Thank you, good morning." He said softly, leaning down to kiss you. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

You shook you head and reached for the environmentally friendly sea sponge covered in soap in his hand, squeezing it against his chest and watching the suds drip down his skin before rubbing the sponge on him thoroughly, "I had to get up anyway, it's a big day, lots to do."

"You always take my birthday too seriously," He laughed, squeezing a puddle of the shampoo he liked the smell of on top of your head and massaging it into your scalp.

"I observe the auspicious day the way it's meant to be honored, yes." You noted formally, nodding your head solemnly under his hands.

He laughed and rinsed your hair, rubbing conditioner in the ends before wrapping the length of your hair around his hands and pulling, causing your neck to crane up towards his face. He looked down at you with a devious look on his face, the steam in the shower surrounding the pair of you like a cloud.

"It's my dick's birthday too, you know." He joked, smirking slightly.

You raised your eyebrows and flickered a glance towards where his legs met, noting that he was already beginning to get hard, "I did know that."

"And you should celebrate it too, do something special." He mused, raising his eyebrows in a sort of a dare.

"Oh? Like what?" You challenged, standing on your toes to kiss him. He kissed you possessively, roughly, with his hand still wrapped around your hair so you couldn't really move much.

Namjoon slid his tongue against yours and you let your hands glide down his wet torso, wrapping your fingers around his cock and stroking it slowly. You matched the pace of his tongue against yours, body rolling against his rhythmically. There was barely an inch of space between you and even that was too much.

Namjoon let go of your hair in favor for wrapping his grasp around your neck, guiding you to the glass wall and spinning you around so quickly you let out a gasp of surprise. He reached a hand back and angled the shower head so that it was hitting the top of your back and rolling down, the pressure sending tingles down your spine.

Namjoon's body came up behind yours, pushing his front into your ass and kissing your neck, "You're gonna give me what I want for my birthday, right? I can ask for anything and you'd do it for me, because it's my birthday and you love me?"

"Right, yeah- anything," You breathed out, a moan sitting on the tip of your tongue.

"Good," He grunted, "Now look at yourself."

Your eyes snapped to the mirror on the other side of the bathroom in front of the sink, the reflection of you and Namjoon in the shower staring back at you. The glass had fogged up and the only thing really visible was your tits pressed up against the glass, the palm of Namjoon's hand flattened on the surface of the glass pane above you, caging you in. You moaned at the sight- wondering what you looked like from the back, bent over like a slut.

"I love my birthday," Namjoon laughed, "You get so horny- which is saying something because you're always a slut for your boyfriend. You like making me happy?"

"I like- I like being slutty for you," You moaned, "I like being yours."

"I like being yours too, baby." He grinned, pecking you on the cheek sweetly before kissing down the length of your back. He bit down on your ass cheek like it was an apple, making you moan out embarrassingly.

"Fuck- Joon, it's your birthday, shouldn't I be the one on my knees?" You pointed out, looking down at him from behind your shoulder. He didn't even look up at you, staring instead straight at your pussy, spreading your legs apart gently and watching the water drip down between them.

"No, it's my birthday- I'll eat you out if I want to," He demanded petulantly, "Your pussy is better than a birthday cake anyway."

"Bitch, I got you a cake from Honeybee," You snapped, breaking your horny character for a moment.

Namjoon paused as well, sitting back on his heels and looked up at you with a surprised look on his face. It was a good thing the water wasn't angled at him, otherwise you were pretty sure he would've drowned by now.

"Oh, the chocolate one or the passion fruit one?" He asked eagerly, a hopeful look on his face.

"Chocolate, duh- who do you think I am? I only got the passion fruit cake that one time because I wanted to try it." You grumbled, pouting slightly.

"My girl is so smart, good choice. See? You deserve to get head for that, my sweet little girlfriend got me my favorite cake," Joon gushed, squeezing your ass fondly before licking a broad stripe through your folds and making you forget all about the stupid cake.

He sucked your clit into his mouth and wrapped his tongue around it, pushing the sensitive spot around with a mission while two of his fingers ran through your folds and sunk into your pussy decisively. You moaned, feeling him pump his fingers in and out furiously. You clenched around them, wondering why the hell he was going to fast until he switched his fingers and his mouth, tongue dipping into your honeyed center while his fingers flicked at your clit roughly.

You withered above him, barely able to keep your weight up until you felt an orgasm barreling towards you- "No, no, no, Joon- I'm gonna cum, it's too fast."

"No, it's not," He snapped, words vibrating against your clit as his breath against your skin only sent you closer to the edge. "Birthday boy wants his slut to cum."

His words were the final push you needed, cumming around his tongue in waves of pleasure as his fingers ran circles around you clit, milking your orgasm of everything it was worth. You lost the ability to think for a moment, the air leaving your lungs, and you barely had a chance to catch your breath before Joon was standing behind you, one hand gripped on your hip as he slid his cock into you, thrusting up sharply. You let out a surprised noise that contrasted his low moan in your ear, thankful for the sound of water hiding the sound of how wet you were.

"Come on baby, show me how much you love me," He demanded, slapping a large hand down on the side of your ass hard.

He thrust up into you at a bruising pace, using your body for his own pleasure as you did your best to keep up. Namjoon kept one hand on your clit and wrapped his other arm across your body, pulling you taunt against his chest as his hips snapped against yours. You were barely even standing up on your own, Namjoon holding your body so securely you could probably relax completely and he'd just carry you.

"Cum in me," You begged, slamming a hand against the glass wall to throw your ass back on him better, matching his thrusts now that you had a moment to gather your bearings. "Pl-please, will you please fill me up? Fuck- your dick is so big."

"Yeah baby? Feels good?" He asked, sounding all too pleased with himself.

"F-Feels so good- I want you to fill me up, please?" You stuttered, a pathetic noise leaving your body.

You were desperate for him at this point, reduced to a dumb, messy, whiny slut who just wanted her boyfriend to cum in her pussy.

"Don't worry, I'll give it to you- since you asked so nicely." He obliged, slamming his cock into your pussy like he owned it. "Fill you up nice and full so you can spend the rest of the day thinking about it. Maybe I'll let you suck my cock later if you want more, huh?"

"Y-yes, I want it." You moaned, "I want your cock."

He groaned and his thrusts got sloppier, faster still. He pinched your nipple hard, doing the same to your clit and you came again, clenching hard around him before he followed, the two of you slowing the pace down almost completely. He rocked against you, dragging his cock in and out of you slowly as you felt him cum in you, warmth spreading through your lower belly. Your pussy continued to suck him in, wanting to keep him there for as long as possible before he pulled out and watched his cum drip down your thighs, dragging a finger through it.

He held his hand up to your tongue absentmindedly, trying to resume washing your body with the other as you sucked his cum off of his hand.

"We gotta hurry," He mumbled, trying to speed wash you as if he hadn't just demolished your pussy. You were sensitive and moving slowly, spent from the morning activities. "We've been in here for so long, what a waste of water- why did we do this?"

"Because it's your birthday?" You offered lamely, watching as he turned the water off and lifted you into his arms, carrying you out of the shower.

"You shouldn't encourage me," He tssked, "I let the birthday shit get to my head. Horny or not, one should never waste water."

You rolled your eyes, laughing slightly at Joon's strictness with himself. He set you down on the edge of the vanity and handed you a towel, wrapping one around his waist securely.

"This is your fault for showering, we could've just had morning sex in bed like a normal couple but no- you have to leave me every morning to go to the gym." You pointed out.

"I go to the gym to fuck you better, you should be thanking me." He grunted, leaning against the countertop and kissing you again. "Maybe you could suck my cock before dinner to make it up to me."

"God, the birthday thing did get to your head," You gasped, shaking your head dramatically.

"So no head?" He pouted, an adorably wide eyed look on his face.

"Oh, head for sure." You corrected, nodding eagerly.

It was his birthday, after all.

(A/N: I have created...a monster.)

#namjoon smut #namjoon fic #bts fic #bts smut #namjoon birthday fic #namjoon x you #namjoon x oc #namjoon fluff #namjoon shower sex #bts shower sex #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon fanfiction #namjoon imagine

[miekasa]

positions

+ pairing: eren jaeger x (fem) reader

+ genres and warnings: modern au, explicit smut (18+ only), eren is annoying but he’s also hot so it makes up for it i guess 🙄

+ word count: 3k

+ notes: i don’t want to talk about this actually, so if you see it, no you didn’t </2 i kind of got carried away with number three. sorry.

+ summary: eren just likes it with you—will take you however you want him to; but he does have a few favorite positions.

i. missionary — (i’m trying to meet your mama on a sunday, then make a lotta love on a monday).

Eren always did like looking at you. He thinks you’re gorgeous, sexy, and so, so, pretty; all the time, but especially like this.

Because there isn’t anything he likes more than watching you squirm because of him; breath unsteady and voice whiny because of him.

“You’re so pretty, aren’t you?” Eren asks, but question is rhetorical; and you’re barely coherent enough to answer him—like he’s fucked you stupid.

“Course you are,” he answers for you, reaching his right hand up to slip his pointer and middle finger past your lips.

You moan around him, warm, wet heat compassing his digits as you let Eren’s fingers fuck your mouth in sync with him thrust into your pussy. It’s only when he feels your spit pooling on your tongue that he pulls them out, immediately using the soaked fingers to further abuse your sensitive clit.

“My pretty, pretty girl,” Eren sings, tapping at your clit in sync with his repeated words.

Eren smirks through his pants as he drinks in your fucked-out state. He likes the way your eyes are screwed shut, high-pitched moans barely squeaking out as you grip at the sheets. Your back arches when he snaps his hips harder, deeper, and—oh, no, that won’t do.

“No, no, baby be good,” he coos, reaching his hand to press over your tummy and flatten your back to the mattress.

“Eren, please,” you barely choke out, head writhing against the pillow, “Just wanna come, please.”

“Just wanna come?” he repeats, but his tone is taunting, almost fiendish at this point, “‘M not stopping you baby, all you have to do is be good for me.”

“I am good,” you insist, words rushed, desperate, “I’m good for you—your good girl, Eren.”

Eren hums at your words, and bends his knee onto the bed, groaning after you as he hits a spot deeper inside of you. He moves his left hand off of your stomach to support himself on the mattress, and reaches his right hand up, crawling up the column of your throat.

He pinches his pointer finger and thumb at your jaw, leaning down until the tip of his nose brushes against yours, “Open.”

He barely waits until there’s a gap between your lips before he pries your mouth open himself with his thumb, the pad of his finger pushing against your tongue. He flashes you a sadistic smirk before spitting into your mouth, the tip of his tongue grazing against yours before retreating back into his mouth, “Swallow.” 

Your breath is unsteady as your do as you’re told, opening your mouth again to show him just how good you listened; how good you are. A smile washes over his face for a second before he leans forward to kiss you—the kind of kiss he gives before he’s about to fuck you silly, “Good girl.”

ii. against the wall — (cookin’ in the kitchen, and i’m in the bedroom)

Eren isn’t a good cook and he knows it. He’s not terrible—he won’t starve if he ever lived on his own, but he’s no master chef.

It’s probably why he likes watching you cook so much. He would say he likes to help, too, but that would be a lie; he just likes being your taste tester, and distracting you a little bit while he’s at it.

“Did you set the oven to 400?” you ask him, back turned as you pick a wooden spoon from the drawer and bring it to the bowl.

Eren hums, eyes flickering to the oven to ensure that he did, indeed, set it to the right temperature, before taking the few steps necessary to close the distance between you two. Slowly, he wraps his arms around your waist, lightly draping his body over yours as he watches you stir the batter.

“Smells like lemons,” he notes, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Probably because we’re making lemon cake,” you chuckle, bringing your stirring to a stop.

You dip your pointer finger carefully into the batter before bringing it to your lips. You crinkle your nose a bit, before dipping you finger back into the batter, this time hovering it in front of Eren’s lips, “Here, taste. Do you think it needs more sugar? Or maybe vanilla?”

Eren’s gazes flicks from your batter-coated finger, then to your eyes, like a magnet; green growing cloudy with arousal. Carefully, slowly, he pushes forward until his lips wrap around your finger, teeth grazing your digit when he pulls back.

“No,” he answers, voice raspy, “It’s perfect.”

“You sure?” you question, words genuine and innocent; oblivious to the angle he’s playing at.

Eren unwraps his arms from your waist, steps back far enough to allow him to spin you around, you lower back pressed into the counter, and eyes wide. He smiles, reaches his hand into the bowl, but instead of waiting for you to taste it, he brushes it against your mouth, before forcing his finger past your lips, just far enough to clean the remaining batter against your tongue.

“Positive,” Eren says, before bruising his lips against yours in a kiss. Quickly, his tongue flashes to swipe against your bottom lip, bringing sticky, sweet cake batter into your mouth.

Then, he lifts you, skillfully moving the bowl aside to make room for you on the counter; knocking over measuring cups and utensils in his path that are sure to leave a mess, but right now you don’t care. Eren always did like things messy, after all.

Eren’s hands paw at the hem of your shirt, clumsily pulling it over your head. He hisses when you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him back down into a searing kiss, and biting at his lower lip in revenge.

A yelp of surprise leaves yours lips as he grips under your thighs and picks you up from the counter. Eren groans when your tangle your hands into his hair, using it as both leverage and support.

“Fuck,” he mutters when you accidentally press yourself against his bulge in an attempt to tighten your legs around his waist. You pull away slightly, breath tickling his face as your eyes jump from his to his lips.

Carefully you comb your fingers through his hair again, elbows resting on his shoulders as you catch your breath.

“Question,” you pose, breathing heavily through your syllables, “How long do you think you can hold me up for?”

“Like this? A while, probably.” Eren replies moving his hands up from under your thighs to your ass.

“But like this,” Eren takes a few steps forwards until your back is pushing against the wall. He smirks when he sees the small gape at your mouth, and squeezes at your ass to exaggerate your expression, before leaning into to whisper in your ear, “A whole lot longer.”

iii. double date — (this some shit that I usually don’t do, but for you I kinda want to)

Armin’s fingers are, surprisingly, rough. More calloused than you would think; for the rest of him is all soft edges and round features; all smooth and nice and kind and good. 

But, not like this. The Armin whose eyes gaze up at you from your legs is hardly anything like that. He’s not the Armin you know; this one is teasing, relentless, almost manic; he’s mean and he knows it.

You can see it in his eyes, that the Armin you know and love is nowhere in sight. Because when Eren pushes his finger inside of you next to Armin’s, you swear those clear, blue eyes that are usually so bright become icy with intent. 

“She’s so pretty, Eren,” Armin says to his friend, but his gaze is on you as he twists his finger inside, knuckles bumping against Eren’s. You throw your head back with a grunted moan, and barely have the strength to hold it up again to see Armin’s smirk, “So pretty.”

“She is, isn’t she?” Eren coos, green eyes smiling at you.

It’s almost too much, the both of them looking at you from between your legs. You’re not sure which one to focus on—if you have the strength to meet either of their gazes for more an a second before screwing your eyes shut, overwhelmed by it. The attention, the feeling, the shared lust is all too much.

“Armin, hold on, let me—” Eren grunts, twisting his finger inside of you, so that it intertwines with Armin’s, “There we go.”

The sensation drives you crazy, the feeling of their fingers brushing against each other—brushing against your walls makes your head spin, and you curl your own fingers into a ball at your sides. It’s only two fingers—but it feels foreign, new, too much; it makes you thrash, they way they pump their digits inside of you, perfectly in sync, perfectly full every time.

It’s new to you, but Eren and Armin have always been best friends; it’s not abnormal for them to share. And they do it so well.

“Eren, Armin, I—” you call, almost wail at you feel someone’s fingertips brush past your weak spot, “Please.”

Your hips rise as you groan with the feeling, and as if rehearsed, the both of their free hands are quick to snap you back against the mattress. When you look down at them, Eren has a dirty look in his eyes, but Armin’s is dirtier—as if you let you know that that he did that; that he planned it, too.

“Don’t be rude,” Eren tuts, “Armin’s being so nice to you, so be good for him. Be good for us.”

You almost want to cry—if this is his nice, you’ve severely underestimated the Armin Arlert you know.  

“You wanna come, yeah?” Armin asks you, with a tone so light and genuine, you would never think he’s capable of anything he’s currently doing.

You nod your head embarrassingly quickly, a stuttered moan slipping out as both boys tighten their told on each other’s fingers; and Armin smirks with glassy eyes before lowering his head closer to your center, “Don’t worry, I’ll let you.”

Armin’s eyes flicker to Eren’s only for a moment, a ghost of a nod shared before the two boys before Armin’s tongue is flat against your slit. You hiss, incoherent moans escaping your throat; Armin is merciless, licking, and sucking until it hurts to breathe.

Your eyes flutter shut when Armin pushes the tip of his tongue against your clit, both his and Eren’s fingers slowing in time with his movement, before speeding up just as he sucks at the bud again. Eren bites a kiss into your thigh, hand squeezing at your hips again.

“I said be good,” he reminds you, sucking at your skin again with warning, “Look at him.”

You don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse, that the second you make eye contact with the blonde again, he sucks on your clit; not ceasing his actions until you come with hot, white flashes resonating through your body.

You can hear them laugh at your collapse, Eren gently kissing your shaking thigh as your body goes limp. Eren shimmies his body up slightly, pulling both his and Armin’s fingers from your pussy and guiding them to your lips.

“Taste,” is his simple command, ordering you to open your mouth wide enough to take both of their fingers.

Eren hums through a laugh, before turning his head to Armin. He takes his fingers out of your mouth, brings his hand to the back of his friend’s head, grabbing tufts of blonde hair in his grip, and angling his head for a perfect kiss, “Share.”

You can barely register their mouths moving together, lewd sounds and flashes of tongue in their kissing, before your head falls back against your pillow again. They’ll be the end of you someday, you’re certain of it.

Your reaction makes Armin chuckle—almost innocently, but you know now you’ve been using that word far too liberally with him. He crawls up to lay next you, gently cradling your cheek with one hand to pull your face to his.

“Good right?” he asks gently, a light kiss placed on your bruised lips.

“Hm,” you can just barely nod, eyes flickering to stay open, “Eren was right.”

Eren finds himself at your other side, pressing feather-light kisses into your neck and jaw, “Told you so, baby.”

“Eren would know,” Armin smiles, and those blue eyes are coated with a layer of mischief once again, “He speaks from personal experience, after all.”

iv. the throne — (you’re down for me, and i’m down, too)

“You have to be careful,” you warn him, “It won’t be very sexy if I fall over into the tub.”

Eren hums, with the intonation that tells you he heard you, but he’s not really listening. He peppers kisses along your thigh, hands greedy; grabbing and pinching at your skin. He uses one hand to pry your legs open wider; one knee bent, foot resting against the side of your bathtub, while the other is grounded against the tiles, and Eren on his knees below you.

You don’t know why this is a fantasy of his—and why he wants to do it now, in the bathroom of all places, but you admit you give into him more than you should.

He wraps his forearms under your thighs, reaching so that the palm of his hands pull at your skin; and pull you closer to his face. Nervous, you grip at the sink for extra support.

Eren smirks below you, peppering an apologetic kiss dangerously close to your center. You growl, using your free hand to grab at his hair, crane his neck back to make him look at you.

“Eren, listen to me,” you tell him. He knows your voice has annoyance laced in it, but it’s also heavy with authority, and makes blood rush to his pants.

Raised eyebrows lower slowly, his pupils wide and blown out at your sudden command; before his surprise morphs into lust. “Of course, baby,” he concedes, licking at your clit too quickly, “Tell me what you want. I’ll listen.”

You squint with disbelief. Nothing is ever that straightforward with Eren; even when he’s on his knees about to give, he’s asking something of you, too. Nevertheless, you loosen your hold on his hair in favor of cradling his head more gently.

“Just,” you start, a shaky breath escaping through your words when Eren’s tongue prods at your clit, “Just make sure I don’t fall.”

Eren hums, vibrations resonating throughout your body, a hissed curse slipping past your lips. “Of course,” he repeats, “I wouldn’t want to hurt my baby.”

You nod, breath growing increasing unsteady when Eren circles your clit with his tongue. He gets greedy, alternating between licking, and kissing, and sucking; and relishing in your body growing heavy in his hands.

“Though,” he says, words spoken muffled against your sensitive skin, but those green eyes are bright and bold when they look at you, “If you’re afraid of falling, you could always sit on my face instead.”

v. love on top — (my love’s infinite, nothing I wouldn’t do, won’t do, for you)

You’re pretty like this, too. Pretty all the time—but if there’s one thing Eren likes more than you under him, it’s you on top of him.

“You’re so hot like this,” he says, voice thick with lust, as he reaches out to rest his hands against your hips.

Eren likes the way you bounce on top of him, thighs shaking against his. He’s surprised when you move your hands to take his off of you—quick to question your motives, before you lace your hands with his, a weak, but sweet smile when your fingers are intertwined.

He smiles back, using your connected hands to pull you forward, elbows bent, the back of his hands plush against the sheets, while your palms hold them down. You’re bent over now, tummy pressed against his, and Eren can feel you breathing into the crook of his neck.

He bends his knee to give him some leverage, adding his own thrusts while you desperately bounce back on his cock.

“B—babe… ‘M gonna come,” he moans, and it’s not long before he’s cumming inside of you. He unlaces one of his hands from yours, using it to rest against the small of your back as you shake through your own orgasm, open mouthed kisses pressed into his collar.

You lay like that for a bit, before Eren pulls out. He has to move you off of him to throw away the condom; but is quick to find his way back to the bed, rolling onto the mattress unceremoniously. He lays facing you, and reaches a hand out, palm open and waiting.

You roll your eyes, but lazily meet him halfway as he daps you up; a stupid smile on his face. He shuffles onto his back, and pulls you on top of him, this time using both hands to wrap around your waist.

“That was so hot,” he muses, love-drunk on you and tracing random patterns into your skin, “You should—should do that more often.”

You curl your hands up to circle his head, lazy fingers playing with his hair, as you nuzzle your head into his chest, eyes fluttering shut, as sleep takes over your body, “Maybe.”

(Definitely).

#aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #eren smut #eren fluff #levi x reader

[brother-genitivi]

Domino Squad headcanons bc I miss the boys, also no one dies <3

warnings: contains general clone wars horrors, like death, trauma, nightmares etc

(do NOT tag as cl*necest I will literally kick u to the moon)

Cutup:

-Cutup is the second eldest of his batchmates. When he tells Hevy (the eldest) to slow down and rest, he listens. He loves his brothers equally, but Cutup is closest to Droidbait.

-he likes plants. He takes a sample from every planet he visits. If Cutup had his way, the barracks would be full of hanging plants and ivy. He finds the carnivorous ones most fascinating.

-he slips out of the accent when he’s around vode he’s very comfortable with.

-Cutup is fiercely protective of Domino Squad on and off the battlefield. He’s known as a jokester (a real cutup, you could say), but he always takes his brothers and their lives seriously.

-he starts growing his hair longer after Umbara. When it’s long enough, Cutup asks Tup for help braiding it.

-he’s not particularly cuddly... that is, until he’s asleep. He’ll latch onto the nearest thing, whether it be a pillow or Echo, and not let go.

-Cutup never leaves a brother behind. That part of his training really stuck with him. He’ll drag his vode out of danger if he has to, even if it kills him.

-he likes Rex the most out of all their superiors. He’s a brother and his captain. It makes sense that Cutup likes him, but he finds himself seeking Rex’s advice on many things.

-he’s not the kind to back down from a dare. One time, Jesse triple dared him to get a tattoo of a cog between his shoulder blades. The look on Jesse’s face was priceless. Cutup never told him the tattoo was temporary. After Order 66 is declared, he gets it done for real in honour of his fallen brother I’m sorry, I’m so sorry

-Cutup has light scarring on his stomach from the kriffing eel that bit him. After all, bacta can only do so much. He has mixed feelings towards them. They’re a reminder of his first battle, where they lost O’Niner and Nub. Cutup thought he was going to die on that blasted outpost. It takes him a long time to feel comfortable having them on display.

Droidbait:

-he can cook, just as all clones are taught to, but his speciality lies in baking. He’ll whip up the most extravagant pies and cakes (when he has free time, which in his case, is almost never).

-Droidbait is the youngest. Oddly, he’s often mistaken for the eldest by those that fight alongside him. His batchmates don’t fuss over him, but there’s a degree of protectiveness that comes with being an older sibling.

-if you think Droidbait is naive because he’s young, think again. He’s very good at telling when people are lying to him, and is surprisingly good at lying himself.

-he gets on very well with Dogma and Tup. He comforts Dogma on Umbara, remembering what it was like to be a loyal shiny thrust into a battle he never asked for. His and Tup’s fighting styles complement each other very well. If you see those two together, it’s best to flee in the opposite direction.

-he's recommended for ARC training right after the 501st return from Umbara.

-Droidbait likes showing affection through touch. He will give hugs to those that want them.

-he likes his name, despite it starting off as a taunt. ‘Will you stop being droid bait out there?’ Being Droidbait means his brothers are safe. Hearing his name used fills him with pride.

-Droidbait doesn't scare easily. He's grown all too used to blaster fire now. It's hard to sneak up on him, too.

-he is a light sleeper. Usually the first to wake and the last to go to sleep. The slightest noise or movement causes him to wake (so he's often shoving away a snoring Echo or Cutup).

-like Cutup, Droidbait also has scarring from the Rishi outpost. He's not fond of the memories associated with them. The first thing he did when he got out of the medbay was paint his armour, 501st blue hiding the black streaks that marred his chestplate. One less reminder of the time he almost died.

Hevy:

-he’s the designated pillow when it comes to sleep piles. His arms go numb and he complains in the mornings, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

-Hevy is very much the type to silently love. Whether it’s pointing out a new kind of flower to Cutup, cleaning Echo’s armour according to regulations, repainting Fives’s helmet when it got scorched one time, or making sure Droidbait always has two pillows to sleep on, Hevy will find a way to show his brothers he loves them.

-Hevy and Hardcase make an iconic Z-6 rotary cannon wielding duo on the battlefield. Outside it, Hevy quickly bonds with Kix. He has great respect for the medic, respect that grows tenfold on Umbara, and helps out in the medbay when he can.

-he tried growing a beard once. He used facial hair cream to speed things along. Never again. One hour under a helmet and he was begging for the clippers.

-Hevy doesn’t like just anyone touching him. If he feels comfortable, he gives the best and warmest hugs. They’re the kind of hugs that leave you feeling safe and comforted. Domino are mostly on the receiving end of them.

-he doesn’t sleep well after the Citadel anymore. He feels the difference when it’s only three people cuddling up to him after a particularly difficult battle.

-he calls 99 whenever he has free time. He keeps 99 updated on his ventures, and in turn receives updates from Kamino. They end up talking for hours on uneventful nights.

-Hevy is the eldest of his batchmates. He places them over himself without a second thought. It’s because of this that Hevy often forgets to take a moment to look after himself, though Cutup reminds him to when he can.

-he may be the champion of arm wrestling, but his sabacc face is terrible. He’s lost every game he’s played so far.

-if any of Domino Squad were to desert, it would be Hevy. He wouldn’t actually desert, but I feel like he would grow mistrustful of the Jedi. Enough to not want to fight for them. Krell would not help with this. He’d never abandon his brothers, and if he did desert, he’d take all of Domino with him. And 99. I think above all, he’d want a quiet life where he can simply exist with his vode without being expected to fight. Surviving Rishi would definitely change his outlook on why he fights. Surviving Umbara changes his outlook on who he fights for.

Echo:

-it’s literally canon, but he makes the shittiest puns. Fives laughs at them to be supportive. Droidbait gives him the most evil glare he can muster. Cutup genuinely finds them funny, and Hevy rolls his eyes (whilst simultaneously finding it endearing, though he won’t say it).

-Echo is the best singer. They can all sing well, but Echo’s voice is angelic. He rarely sings however, unless one of his vode have a nightmare.

-he has a holopic of Domino resting by his bed in the barracks. He takes it with him everywhere he’s stationed. The one time he doesn’t take it is when he and Fives help infiltrate the Citadel.

-he wears a domino necklace. All of his batchmates have some domino inspired jewellery, but Echo came up with the idea. He has a small domino five painted on the inside of his armour and his helmet.

-he hates the fact that he snores. If anyone points it out, he'll deny it was him. Even if there's holovid evidence. "That's not me," he claims, glaring at anyone who says otherwise.

-he’s the second youngest. He’ll say he and Fives are twins to mess with people. He'll see Cutup running himself into the ground trying to help Hevy, and try and convince his vod to take some time for himself.

-Echo joins the Bad Batch, with one condition: Domino come with him. He'd never even consider joining them if he knew Fives was alive. Yet, in a way, he had a feeling that the Bad Batch would someday lead him to his wayward brother.

Fives:

-he doesn’t trust any of Domino to shave his goatee into the right shape... except Droidbait.

-Fives picked up his penchant for great speeches from Echo, one of the only times he echoes his vod rather than the other way around. His speech on Umbara was something he’s sure his brother would be proud of. In many ways, Echo saved his life even while they were parted.

-he knows how to look after his curls. Silk pillowcase, leave-in conditioner, you name it and he'll have it. Fives cuts his own hair, as well as the rest of Domino’s. He would cut hair for the whole of the 501st, but Dogma’s steady hands outmatch his when it comes to clippers.

-Fives is force sensitive. He's always been aware of it, but events at the Citadel make him realise just how strong in the Force he is. He has a feeling. It tells him that Echo is alive. The feeling lessens considerably almost a day afterwards, but it never quite goes away.

-he's fond of using nicknames for his batchmates. They can range from sweet and endearing (like Bait'ika) to downright annoying.

-he once hated the sound of snoring. It’s loud and annoying. He used to smack Echo awake whenever it happened, grumbling about the noise. It’s not until after the Citadel that Fives realises how much he misses it.

-Fives is the 'middle child' in terms of age out of his batchmates. He lords being older over Echo and Droidbait, but takes responsibility in watching out for them as well. He looks after Hevy and Cutup too, but in a subtle, subconscious way. The act of doing it is that natural.

-he fakes his death after the chips incident with Kix’s help. It rips him apart from the inside, but he has to do what he can to help his brothers. The Republic falls. The Empire rises. And still, Fives has a good feeling. He knows he’ll see Domino again. They reunite with many tears shed, noses pressed together in greeting. That night, amongst snores and numerous blankets, Fives sleeps soundly knowing they’re safe.

Bonus, 99:

-they name 99 as an honorary Domino Squad member. They each have a 99 tattooed somewhere. 99 has a small domino tattooed on the inside of his wrist.

#star wars #the clone wars #tcw #domino squad #the clone wars headcanons #tcw headcanons #clone trooper cutup #cutup #clone trooper droidbait #droidbait #clone trooper hevy #hevy #arc trooper echo #echo #arc trooper fives #fives #the clones #arc trooper jesse #clone medic kix #clone trooper hardcase #clone trooper tup #clone trooper dogma #captain rex #bloody hell that's a lot of tags #if i see anyone tagging this as cl*necest i will smite you.

[rafescoke]

New Girl ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Just as Rafe thought his life couldn’t get any worse, a new girl moved into town. 

Warnings: Straight smut! Mentions of trauma, extreme love-hate relationship, fluff

A/N: thank you so much for 600+ followers wtf ily <33

p.s; you know the drill. . . send requests!

One thing that Rafe was sure of; he was no tour guide, or anything of the sort.

Sure, he got himself into trouble; vandalising the principal’s office and destroying school’s properties, but that was it. He didn’t try to include the part where he goes to parties to get high and wake up the next evening with a painful headache, that was more to his personal life and he believed no one in the education system could have the advantage to be mad at him for it. 

“I simply just won’t do it,” Rafe shrugged, sighing against the chair. “Look, why don’t you ask Topper to help this new kid? He’s good in class.” 

“You answered yourself, Mr. Cameron,” the counsellor sighed, placing a file on top of the table lightly. “He’s good at school work, and you’re not. That’s why we’re going with you.” 

So that was the core reason as to why Rafe was waiting impatiently for the arrival of the new student, whom he didn’t even care about to know the gender. All he wanted was to sit at the back of the school and light some joints. 

“Mr. Cameron, this is Ms. (Y/L/N).” 

Rafe took a look at her. He bit the insides of his cheeks, thinking how she didn’t even make an effort to dress properly for her first day in a new schoolz 

An oversized tee and denim shorts. Really? 

“Hi,” she smiled, extending her hands. “I’m (Y/N).” 

“Rafe,” was all he said, before handing her her timetable for the semester. 

She scanned the paper, nodding slightly and pointed at a word. When she realised how Rafe wasn’t listening, she cleared her throat. 

“What?”

“I got Biology with Mr Garcia. Where’s Room 3?” 

Rafe scooted closer next to her, and the smell of strawberry cheesecake wafted into his nostrils. He took a step back, seething. 

Who would even wear a cakey perfume? 

“Uh, that’s like, at the end of the hall?” He answered, but it was more like a question. He looked at the direction he was noting, and nodded again. “Definitely the one at the end of the hall.” 

“You really don’t care, do you?” She asked, crossing her arms. “Where’s my locker?” 

Rafe took another look at her timetable, searching for her locker number. 

372. 

He turned to look at his own locker, finding the number, and letting out an ‘oh’. “Yours just 4 lockers away from mine.” 

“Thanks.” She muttered, and Rafe sighed before fixing the left side of his bag strap dangling from his left shoulder. “Is that it? Can I go?” 

“Not so fast, Rafe,” the counsellor sighed, stopping him by his chest. “You’re supposed to stay with her for the week. Help her get around. And you’re supposed to show her around the school compound now.” 

Rafe looked up to the counsellor with a pained expression and then back to (Y/N), his chest heavy. “Fine. Let’s go. What do you call yourself again?” 

Right before lunch, Rafe stayed over in his class for a few minutes before going out to the hall. He didn’t want to see the new girl, and he didn’t feel like being her assistant anymore. 

But the world wasn’t that fair. 

(Y/N) grinned, walking towards him. “Can you show me the cafeteria?”

“How do you even know my class?” He muttered, keeping a distance between them. The last thing he ever wanted was to let the news of him being with the new girls circulating around the school, or worse, the whole island. 

“My class is directly in front of yours. We parted just now.” 

Of course she would remember that. 

. . . 

A week went by quickly, and before Rafe would know it, he didn’t see (Y/N) anymore, and he was content with it. 

Until her family decided to become neighbours with his. 

“What do you mean the (Y/L/N) bought the house next to us?” He groaned, watching as Rose and Ward prepared to greet themselves to the new family.

The last thing he wanted was to show her around the fucking island like he was some kind of a hotel worker. 

She was in a yellow sundress, and Rafe couldn’t help but notice the way her (H/C) glowed under the sunlight. She looked similar to her mother, both bringing pastries as a way to introduce themselves. 

“Hi, we just moved next door,” Mrs (Y/L/N) said, showing the Camerons her pearly white teeth. Rafe wondered if she ever got them done, because it’s not possible for a human to have such white assets. 

“Hi, welcome to Obx,” Ward gushed, accepting the pastries happily. “Rafe, take the other cake.” 

(Y/N) looked up at the sound of his name, and to Rafe’s amusement, began gritting her teeth. He took the cake with a smirk, happy that he got her all worked up. 

He would definitely have the best time of his life taunting the shit out of this girl. 

. . .

“Hey, wanna ride a boat?” 

“Topper, leave her alone,” Rafe sighed, fixing his cap so it was facing backwards. “She’s not interested.” 

(Y/N) perked up at this invitation, never actually riding a boat alone if it wasn’t during a holiday since she was originally from the city. She walked towards her neighbour’s deck, her skin illuminating the golden sunrays. 

“Sure.” 

Rafe mentally groaned, having to deal with the girl now, but he wasn’t sure if he was angry or jealous. It wasn’t him to be jealous easily, but after a week of becoming her tour guide, he guessed he deserves some kind of a credit from her. Topper didn’t do anything, but she was gladly accepting his invitation. 

Their usual stroll along the stream of the island was not like usual, since the air was now filled with the annoying chatter between (Y/N) and Topper. Rafe could never relate with them, only wanting to relax his mind and sleep it off. 

“So you’re a city girl? That’s great!” 

“Sure Tops,” Rafe wondered, smiling delightly. Anything to get into a girl’s pants. . . 

“You know what, (Y/N)?” He called from the place he was resting, and he waited a few seconds before continuing his speech. “If you’re looking for a boyfriend, Topper’s not the guy. He hasn’t moved on from his ex-girlfriend.” 

Sure, he would get a lot of shit from Topper for saying that, but he was done with the pointless flirting between them. 

“What about you?” 

Rafe opened his eyes, watching her from behind his sunglasses. He shifted his position, “What about me?” 

“Have you moved on from your ex-girlfriend?” 

Has he moved on from Kie? He wasn’t entirely sure. Their relationship was brief, but she was all Rafe had. When she decided to go all full-pogue, he knew there was nothing left of them. 

“I don’t date.” 

“I can see why,” she said, and Rafe swore he heard some kind of mirth behind her tone. 

“Have you?” 

“Moved on from an ex?” 

Rafe nodded, opening his eyes slightly. 

“I guess.” 

“Good for him.” 

“Excuse me?” She gasped, pushing him lightly. “You’re an asshole.” 

She leaned closer onto him, and for a second Rafe thought about letting her in his bubble, but he quickly shoved her away. “Watch it.” 

“I’m just trying to tell you about that fucking fly on your face.” 

“Yeah? Liar.” 

(Y/N) huffed, stomping back to Topper, and Rafe laughed silently. 

1-0.

. . .

Fuck. 

If he would’ve known about the police raid in Topper’s party, he wouldn’t have come to his house at all. But here he was; all pushed up against the metal chair of the police station, his hair messy and his eyes bloodshot. 

“We’re taking a urine test, son,” Shoupe said, sighing. “There’s always something wrong with you.”

Rafe thought about (Y/N) suddenly, and how she was probably back home and watching some kind of a rom-com. That’s totally her; all cuddled up with a pink teddy bear probably named ‘Bear-bear’, constantly wiping the tears off her face over the sad breakup scene of a movie. 

Rafe was forced to strip out of his shirt and jeans before entering the small cubicle, and having to go through this same procedure for quite a few times now, he didn’t mind giving a show to the workers. 

He quickly zipped his jeans bag, handing a female worker a cup filled to the end with his urine. He yawned, already knowing the results, so there was no use being nervous about it. 

He was picked up by an angry Ward an hour later. He groaned, getting in the car to prepare himself for the same lecture about his future and how he shouldn’t jeopardise it, but he was shocked when Ward didn’t utter a word at all. 

It was very uncomfortable, but he guessed he was just tired. 

“Good morning.” 

Rafe rubbed his eyes against the bright sunlight, feeling the pain from his head slowly soaring throughout his body. He squinted his eyes at the figure in front of him again, trying to blink the blurriness away. 

“What the fuck?” 

“Your mom told me to call for you,” (Y/N) said, looking away from him. Rafe looked down to his body, seeing his shirtless self, and laughed.

Of fucking course she would be uncomfortable with him being shirtless. 

“She’s not my mom,” he grunted, removing the covers off of him and checking his phone for the time. 

12.43p.m. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, and his eyes turned to her again. “What are you doing here again? Leave.” 

“Waiting for you.” 

“I’ll be downstairs in a few seconds,” he muttered. He didn’t need her to be some kind of maid for him. 

(Y/N) muttered some curse word, hoping that riled him up, but she would be stupid if she thought a random curse word would make him Rafe Cameron angry.

It would take a lot more to raise an expression from Rafe Cameron, and a curse word definitely wouldn’t. 

. . . 

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

His boat was not working, but he had just filled her up the night before. This was the newest model too, and he couldn’t afford asking Ward to fix his boat again. Not when he was caught with being on drugs from his urine test last week, and the only reason he got out of the trouble was because of Ward again. 

“Is it not working, Rafey?” 

Rafe looked up to the sound. (Y/N) was watching him with a sly grin, shielding her eyes with her hands from the sun like she was some goddamn queen that would melt from the heat. 

“What did you do to my boat?” He groaned, trying to turn the ignition again. 

“What did I do? Come on, why do you always think so bad of me? That’s kinda ru—”

Before she could continue her taunt, Rafe climbed the deck, inching closer towards her and smeling that goddamn cake smell again. 

Hell, he’ll buy her a new perfume to stop breathing in that fucking smell. 

“That’s kinda what?” He whispered. He was so close to her now, and he could hear her breath hitching. He smirked, his heart soaring. 

“You’re kinda dumb for a kook, Rafe,” she sighed. She dangled a familiar key in front of him, and when Rafe took a closer look, he noticed it was the key to his boat. 

She threw the key into the water and Rafe watched it plopped, moving straight towards the deep end. His eyes flared at her again, his chest heaving. 

“Hope you have a spare key.” 

1-1. 

. . .

That should be good, he guessed, for being in a tie with (Y/N). But he doesn’t like someone being in the same league as him, so it must be 2-1. 

And the 2 from him. 

But that was for another day, because Kiara Carrera was in front of him. He fixed his cap so it was facing backwards again, and then putting his hands into his pockets for good measure. 

“Hey,” he greeted her. She smiled at him grimly before looking back at the menu, clearly uninterested. “How’re you?” 

“I’m. . . great,” she breathed. “Why?” 

“Just asking,” he shrugged, “Do you wanna go out for some drinks sometimes? Like the old times?” 

Rafe curled his toes, waiting nervously. 

“Um, I have to check with my parents first,” she replied. “But, Rafe, you know, it’s been. . . a year.” 

“Of course,” he laughed, trying to hide the sudden emotion inside him. “I meant hanging out as a friend.” 

“Of course!” She suddenly exclaimed, “If you would bring (Y/N) with us.” 

“Oh, I don’t-”

“You don’t?” 

“I- fine. I’ll bring her with me. Is tomorrow okay?” He sighed, already foreseeing the future. 

And it’s full of shit. 

“Tomorrow.” 

. . .

“Wow, I am not going to third wheel you and someone, Rafe,” (Y/N) laughed, resting her back against her chair. 

“Please,” Rafe begged, sighing. He didn’t know how much begging he could do anymore, not when he had so many things to do. He took a deep breath again, “I’ll do anything for you back.” 

“Including hooking me up with JJ?” 

“Yes- no. No. What the fuck? Where did you even know this guy?” He expressed, his eyebrows furrowing. He was not going to let her a pull a Kie, though they weren’t dating. 

“He helps mower the lawn.” 

Of course. JJ Maybank would never pass the chance to get some money while checking out girls. 

“I’m not helping you to get together with JJ,” he sighed. “Can we go for a better option? Like Landon? He’s rich.” 

“I’m richer,” she yawned. “Okay. Fine. Topper.” 

“No,” he shook his head. “Not going to happen.” 

If she ever thought about him allowing her to date his best friend, she has to be a lot smarter than that. 

He didn’t know why he wouldn’t allow it. Maybe he was scared of Topper hurting her. 

Or maybe he just couldn’t imagine her with someone else.

“Then we have no deal,” she replied simply, gazing at her newly painted nails. She gazed at Rafe who seemed to be thinking hard from the top of her sunglasses. 

He groaned. “Fine. I’ll help you with Topper. But I’m warning you; he. Has. Not. Moved. On.” 

“Oh, he will.”

. . .

Kie was all up on Rafe.

He didn’t know what had gotten into her, because she was never this. . . strong-willed. 

Kie had her hands placed against Rafe’s chest, kissing him tenderly and sometimes running her fingers through his hair. 

Rafe sucked in a breath, watching as she part. Her mouth formed into a grin, and Rafe couldn’t help but grin back. 

“Wanna do it?” 

Did he? Of course he wanted to “do it”. He had been wanting to do so since forever. He would be crazy to say no to that invitation, and he was definitely sane. 

He looked at (Y/N), who was awkwardly perched up on the sofa, tucking her legs under her and watching some kind of a movie on her phone. Her eyes looked up to Rafe, and she quickly looked away. 

“In one of the rooms?” 

Kie seemed to look around the boat for a while, like he was looking for someone, but there were only two of them. And (Y/N). 

“Fine,” she huffed, and pulled him towards one of the rooms by his wrist. 

Kie pushed him onto the bed, and Rafe wondered how she got this side of her. Throughout their 6 months of dating, she never showed him this, so this was a bit of a shock to him. 

“Hey, hey,” Rafe gripped her wrists, holding her still. “We don’t have to rush.” 

“I want to,” she said, and leaned closer. “I thought you wanted this?” 

They began making out, his hand slipping down her back to grab her ass, only to be met with her vibrating phone in her back pocket. 

“I’ll get it,” he mumbled against the kiss, and pulled her phone out.

A picture of JJ Maybank’s smiling face right next to Kie greeted him, and his name was perched on top of the screen, signalling his call. 

Of course. She never wanted to fuck him. It was always to make someone jealous. That explained the gritted teeth Kie would make when he mentioned JJ earlier. 

He sighed, pushing her away so she ended up by his side. “I gotta go.” 

“Huh?” Kie sat up straight, looking from Rafe to her phone. She saw the caller, cleared her throat, and held up a finger to tell him to wait. 

He should’ve known. 

. . . 

Rafe never liked the annual Obx’s drive-in movie theatre, because he really didn’t get the hype of watching a mainstream movie that he had watched with Wheezie a lot of times before in his car. 

This year, it was way worse; they decided to have some kind of a horror themed drive-in movie theatre, and the best part of all; (Y/N) was going with Topper. 

Rafe groaned for the thousandth time at the rapping of a clown against his car window. He gave the clown his middle finger, telling him ‘watch it, you’re scratching my car’, and moving his attention back to the screen. 

Annabelle had disappeared from the room the two nurses had placed her in, and the volume quietened before booming again when the doll had appeared in the living room, perching on top of the sofa. 

He rolled his eyes, and took a look at (Y/N) and his best friend laying in the back part of his jeep from the rearview window. 

They were cuddling. 

“Fuck off,” he grunted, throwing his hands into the air. A human-sized Annabelle pulled on the shotgun’s door now, and Rafe gave the actor another middle finger before yelling a ‘fuck you’.

“This is ridiculous,” he said to no one in particular. He stepped out of the vehicle, knowing damn well he would be the target of the ghosts now, but he couldn’t care less. All he wanted was to step away from all of this and maybe refill his soda. 

He made his way to the back of the lot, getting his money out beforehand. Some type of a wannabe Michael Myers came up, to which he quickly put a hand up to stop him. 

“Don’t. I’m not in the mood.”

Michael Myers seemed to get him, because he left to scare someone else. 

“Refill,” he sighed, giving the worker his cup. “Coke.” 

“You mean like literal coke?” 

Rafe looked behind him, surprised to see a red-faced (Y/N) holding a popcorn bucket. He licked his teeth. “Why? Have you tried it before?” 

(Y/N) went up beside him, muttering about putting more caramel in her popcorn to the worker before looking at him. “You seem mad.” 

“I’m not.” 

“You are.” 

“That’s because you’re all up in my business,” he scoffed. He turned to look at his coke, but the worker was still filling the cup up. 

Good. Did the machine break or something? 

“Where’s the girlfriend?” She asked. She was clearly amused by his sudden tightness, but he quickly softened, as to not rile her up. 

“Where’s the fuckbud- I mean boyfriend? Sorry. It just slipped.” 

(Y/N) nodded, her mouth forming into a grin. “If you’re jealous, you can just say that.” 

“Wait, wait, of what, exactly?” 

She shrugged. 

“Yeah, exactly. No. For all I care, you guys can get married and move to fucking Antartica and have mini (Y/N)s and Christophers running around.” 

The worker placed the newly refilled coke and caramelised popcorn on the counter, and Rafe wondered why she would receive her food at the same time as his when had come here first.

He rolled his eyes, grabbing the drink and walking back towards the car. 

(Y/N) jogged to catch up with him, her popcorn bouncing against her chest. “You’re rude, do you know that?” 

“Jesus Christ, we’re still on this?” He mumbled. He was still walking, but he wanted her to catch up so he slowed down. He guessed it would be the perfect ending to his night to taunt her until she’s all worked up. 

“I just can’t think of a reason why you’re acting so fucking rude to me.” 

“Yeah? Think again.” Rafe sipped on his coke, feeling the carbonated drink sloshing down his throat. He felt content, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the coke or from the girl beside him. 

“This is—”

A nurse with a bloody front suddenly appeared before them, using some kind of a spray to maximise the size of the fire from a lighter. (Y/N) screamed, turning away from the heat, and Rafe quickly caught her before she could end up on the floor. 

“Fuck, fucking move,” he yelled to the nurse, who seemed to be satisfied with her work. Rafe turned to (Y/N), trying to check on her state. 

“Yo, yo, you good? Why are you shaking?” 

She was trembling really hard against him. She had her arms around Rafe’s neck, her popcorn splattered on the ground. She jolted when a scream came from the speaker. 

“Come on, let’s get you to the car,” he mumbled, helping her walk. She kept her face hidden in the crook of his neck, and Rafe had to try his best to balance both of the girl and the Coke in his hands back to the vehicle.

Topper was no longer in the back seat, perhaps looking for Sarah (Rafe wasn’t a bit surprised at this). He was glad his best friend wasn’t there, because the last thinf he needed was two people freaking out on him. 

“Okay, chill, I got you,” Rafe grunted, placing the Coke in the cup holder before seating the girl beside the driver’s seat. He sighed before climbing into the driver’s seat and locked the door in case some kind of a crazy maniac tried to freak her out again. 

“What’s wrong?” 

She didn’t answer, not that Rafe expected her to. She looked like she was reminded by some kind of memory, but Rafe didn’t want to dwell so much on it. 

If he could, he would reverse his car out of this lot back to their homes, but he was one of the first cars to arrive at the drive-in theatre, so it was impossible to get out. 

He sighed, placing his hands against his lap. “You can tell me, you know.” 

She finally looked up to him, and Rafe’s breath hitched from the sight of her red eyes. He softened. 

Whatever it was with that fire, it had triggered some kind of a memory in her. 

He placed a hand against her lap, but not moving so; just a splat of his hand against her soft skin. He had meant for that as comfort, but he realised how creepy the situation was. He pulled away, clearing his throat. 

So they stayed until the end of the movie, just the two of them, and Rafe was sure she wasn’t even watching the remaining parts of the movie. He pretended to watch, but he was really just staring at her the whole time. 

Will she ever let her hair down like this again? Because he liked it. 

When the movie ended and the cars were starting to move, Rafe slowly reversed the car so as to not shake her awake. But she was a light sleeper, and she woke up as soon as he hit the brakes. 

She rubbed her eyes, “Where are we going?” 

“Home,” he answered. “You’re okay?” 

She didn’t answer, and Rafe knew she wasn’t.

. . .

Two weeks after the incident, they never spoke of it again. 

Rafe tried to get an answer out, but to no avail. He didn’t get why he was trying his best to help her, because he, too, needed help. 

“Nah. I won’t invite her. If you want (Y/N) to come, then you’ll have to invite her yourself.” 

Wheezie’s shoulders slumped, “But you’re close to her!”

“I’m not, and she hates my guts,” Rafe replied honestly. Because that was the truth, right? She didn’t even want to tell him about why she was so scared of fire. 

“Invite me to what?” 

“(Y/N)!” Wheezie ran to hug her, to which (Y/N) laughed before patting her on the crown of her head. “Tell her, Rafe!” 

Is she fucking serious? 

“Tell me what?” (Y/N) looked up to Rafe strangely. 

“Wheezie wants to have a movie night, and she wants you to watch with us.” Rafe sighed, hating how he couldn’t just ignore Wheezie. She was definitely Rafe’s favourite, being so close to her brother ever since she was born. 

“Oh, is that true?” She smiled, looking at Wheezie. “Should I come and wear my best pajamas?” 

“You’re not sleeping over, your house is literally 5 minutes away. 2 if you run.” Rafe rolled his eyes. He went up to the counter to pick up a sandwich before biting into it, tasting the creamy eggs and ham. He licked his lips. 

“She can sleep with Sarah, right, (Y/N)?” 

“If she wants me too. . .” 

Rafe rolled his eyes again, “Sarah won’t be with us for tonight’s movie night. She’s starting to hang out with the pogues.” 

“Why are you so against the pogues?” (Y/N) asked, when Wheezie left to write a reminder of tonight’s event in her diary. 

“Why can’t you just shut your mouth?” He sighed. “It’s all bla bla bla bla. Can’t you see you’ll be happier without having to open your mouth every few seconds?” 

(Y/N) bit her lips, and for a second, Rafe had to look away from the look she was giving him. 

Shit. Why was he even looking away? 

She turned to go away, but was halted by Rafe’s fingers around her wrist. She groaned, turning her attention back to him. “What?” 

“You still haven’t told me about the night of the drive-in theatre.” 

“Good,” was all she said, before she went back by the sliding door to her home. 

. . .

“Rafe would be mad if he saw me watching this.” 

“It’s rom-com! And it’s totally PG-13. Trust me on this, okay? Anne Hathaway, yeah, that girl, yes, she’s going to get prettier throughout the movie.” (Y/N) smiled, popping popcorn into her mouth. 

Wheezie sighed, placing her head against (Y/N)’s shoulders and yawned. “Like what? Princess Diaries?” 

“Yes, but this is The Devil Wears Prada. You’ll love it!” 

A beam of light filled the mini movie theatre of The Camerons, signalling the late arrival of Rafe Cameron. He brought two chocolate bars, a Coke (again) and some chicken nuggets. 

“Move,” he said, motioning to Wheezie. 

“There are more seats around here!” Wheezie hissed, crossing her arms. “I’m not leaving (Y/N).” 

“You’re not leaving her, silly, you’re just scooting more to the right.” 

“What’s in it for me?” She raised a brow. 

“Nuggets?” 

She scooted to the side, giving more space for Rafe to place himself beside an annoyed (Y/N). 

Out of all 7 medium-sized sofas in the theatre, he decided to pick the one the two girls were sitting on. 

Rafe handed Wheezie the plate full of chicken nuggets, looking at (Y/N) before watching the screen. He groaned, “What’s this? Trash?” 

“A masterpiece, so shut up,” (Y/N) replied. Rafe huffed, amused, and unwrapped the chocolate bar. 

“Want some?” 

“No.” 

“Come on,” he cooed, placing the chocolate before her eyes. She grunted, pushing his hands away. 

Rafe took that as his final warning. He didn’t want to annoy her even more, knowing that she will probably not talk to him anymore. He decided to wait until half an hour later, just to taunt her again. 

“I’m going to get more popcorn,” Wheezie suddenly said after an hour into the movie. She excused herself to the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone. 

(Y/N) sighed. Great, just like how she wanted. 

“What do you want from me?” Anne Hathaway’s voice blared from the speaker, and Rafe looked at (Y/N). 

“What do you want from me?” He asked, repeating the dialogue. (Y/N) watched him from the corners of her eyes, not getting any delight from this. 

“For you to shut up.” 

“Really? That’s boring,” he sighed. “Do you want to know what I want from you?” 

“Sure.” 

“I’m thinking of a few things. Maybe you, on my lap.” 

(Y/N)’s breath hitched, but she tried her best not to look disturb. She shifted in her seating position. 

Rafe leaned closer, feeling her heat. “Your turn.” 

You know what? Fuck it.

(Y/N) turned to look at him fully in his face, leaning even closer that a part of her was practically on top of him. “Do you know what I think of you, Rafe?” 

His eyes dropped to her lips, and he swore his heartbeat quit beating. 

“I think about you, Rafe,” she whispered. “All pressed up against me in my bed, whim-”

“More popcorn!” 

(Y/N) returned to her previous position, bewildered. She fixed her hair, and her eyes were back to the screen. 

If Wheezie were to hang out with a pogue right now, Rafe wouldn’t give a fuck. 

“Well, the ending’s shitty,” Rafe exclaimed, clapping his hands. He watched as the end credits rolled, and took a look at Wheezie. 

He nudged her, sighing. “Wake up, Wheeze. Go to your room.” 

She groaned, searching for her fallen glasses. Rafe helped her to put them on, and gave her another poke. 

“I want to watch the movie.”

“The movie’s finished. It’s time to sleep. Go.” 

Wheezie groaned, muttering how it’s not fair that her brother could stay up with (Y/N) to watch more movies, but she guessed she was too tired for another round of movie anyways. 

“What’s the next pick?” 

“Horror.” 

“Nah.” 

“Why?”

“‘Cause you’re going to freak out on me again.” 

“I won’t,” she assured him. “Let’s go with Hereditary.” 

Rafe’s fingers and (Y/N)’s were almost touching. He was still bothered by her comment before Wheezie came barging in, and he was still desperate to hear her reply. 

“(Y/N)?”

“Hm?” 

“What were you trying to say?”

(Y/N) stopped watching, and looked at him. “What?” 

“About you thinking of me.” 

She blushed. “Nah.” 

“Come on,” he nudged. When she didn’t move, he tried placing his hand against her thigh. 

(Y/N) stood up suddenly, and for a second, Rafe thought he had fucked up. He watched as she went to the door, locked it, and went back to their place. 

“You locked the door.” 

“Yeah.” 

Rafe licked his lips, smirking slightly. “Ah, I see the game you’re playing.” 

“What game?” She raised a brow, only turning to the screen when a scream blared from the speaker.

“Hey, look at me.” Rafe tugged on her chin, forcing her to look at him, and his eyes actually looked into hers. He noticed the (E/C) colour of her eyes now, and he swore he had never looked at something more appealing. “Tell me.” 

She stayed quiet, not moving a muscle. 

Rafe sighed, getting impatient. He leaned closer now, this time his lips merely an inch away from her cheeks. He could feel the heat radiating from her. 

“Tell me, baby.” 

“You getting all close to me isn’t helping, Cameron,” she sighed, laying her head against the sofa. 

“Still playing hard to get?” 

“I’m not playing anything.” 

Rafe slowly placed a kiss against her temple before trailing down to her cheeks. She sucked in a breath, and Rafe smiled. 

“Still playing?” 

She nodded. 

Rafe’s lips touched hers by a bit, and she let out a moan she had been trying her very best to contain. Rafe chuckled, pulling away. 

“Still playing?”

“Shut up.” 

“That’s a yes? Or a no?”

“That’s a fuck you.” 

“Oh,” Rafe smiled. “Thought you never asked.” 

His kiss was gentle. So soft, and (Y/N) had never felt something like that before. The kiss deepened when she let out a soft moan, riling Rafe even more. 

He pulled her up onto his chest, letting her hands rest against his chest before pulling her away. Her lips were red, and there was a string of their saliva hanging from both of their lips. 

“What do you want, (Y/N)?” 

“You.” 

“Huh?” 

“You.” 

He smiled, tugging on her shirt. “Off.” 

She wasted no time to remove her shirt, exposing her new black bra she ordered online a few days before. Rafe sat back, his eyes dark. 

“Jesus Christ.” 

He kissed her neck, trailing down to her collar bones before stopping directly on her chest. His fingers fiddled with the bra clip, being so used with this already, and removed the piece of clothing with ease. 

(Y/N) instinctively covered her chest, her chest heaving. 

Rafe looked up to her, his eyes softening. “What’s wrong?” 

“Am not comfortable.” 

“Oh, that’s alright, we don’t have to do—”

“No, Rafe, I want this. I just don’t think I’m perfect enough for you.” 

Rafe let out a breath, placing a soft kiss against her stomach. She closed her eyes, throwing her head back. He guided her hands away, exposing her perky breast to the entire theatre to see. 

Rafe was glad he was the only guy present. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” 

“Shut up.” 

He looked up into her eyes, wetting his lips. “I’ll do anything to fuck you right now.” 

(Y/N) grinded against him, causing a groan to escape from his throat. He held her waist in place, not wanting to trigger his release. 

“Do it,” she whispered. 

The movie became a background noise as he fumbled with her shorts, grunting when he couldn’t figure out the knot. 

He positioned himself before her, and looked up into her eyes again. Her chest was heaving, and she looked nervous. 

“You’re okay?”

“I’m a virgin.” 

Oh fuck. 

Why would she even say that? He couldn’t even contain himself anymore. 

He pushed himself into her, letting her get used to the feeling. He waited for her nod, signaling that she was okay and hadn’t changed her mind, and thrusted into her again. 

His hands stayed around her waist to guide her, watching as her mouth slightly parted as he deepened inside her. She bit her lips, her nails clawing onto his shoulders. 

“Oh my god.” 

“Fuck,” he groaned, feeling his own forehead clammy. He didn’t notice her hands that had left his shoulder. She cupped his face, placing wet kisses against his cheeks. 

“You’re so good for me, baby,” he whimpered, allowing her hands to guide his. She placed them around her breast as she rode him, and Rafe had never felt better. 

If he has to taunt and annoy her more to get into this level again, he’ll do it again. Without any hesitation.

“I’m so close, baby, fuck,” he groaned. He gave her another longing kiss, looking down to where their bodies connect, and moaned loudly. 

Just before he reached his end, he pulled her away, not wanting to plant himself into her. (Y/N) tried to wrap her fingers around his penis to which Rafe jerked at for  being so sensitive. He pulled her hands away, his chest heaving. 

“Don’t,” he grunted. His load shot out of his member, wetting the sofa underneath them, and Rafe quickly slapped his shaft against her core to get her to reach her end. 

“Rafe, I-”

“Let it,” he whispered, watching as she tilted her head back, exposing her neck. “Let go, baby.” 

She trembled slightly, finally reaching her high, and collapsed on top of the heaving boy. Rafe stroked her hair, pulling her into a lying position, and planted another soft kiss against the back of her head. 

“The movie’s still on.” 

“Watch the next part, it’s amazing,” Rafe whispered, still holding her close. They were both naked, still coming down from their highs, but Rafe had never felt better. 

(Y/N) turned to look at him. “You’re still an asshole.” 

He placed a soft kiss against her lips. “Your asshole.” 

-

@okayshoto @joselyn001 @onceuponateenagetrash @dyingsleeping @iwannabeapogue @meaganjm @rafesobxs @flossy2929 @unfortunatekiwitrash @scottybitch @asimpwriter @amaya124 @tommy-tommo @thatshithurted8 @fallincindy @marvelwhor3 @rafeswh0ree @kookap @supernaturallydc-blog @blank-velvet @alaniskauany @kiiim8 @witchywrter @kaitlyn2907 @heyimflo @overcookedpastasause @tsukkiswifeey @spidey-d00d @anonymousobxfan @gotmeinloveagain @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @lexi-writes @classydragonthingknight @belongtoyou-u @badbussylol @savannah-elliott @angelreyesgirl100 @haterpenny @beehappyyy @alwaysclassyeagle @maybankslut @kayleea122 @clearbolts @lovelyxtom @christianaevans @jemimah-b99 @opierdalacz @dangerdolns @wildflowerliv @classygirlything21 @pogueslandia

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smuts #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey smuts #outerbanks #outerbanks imagines #outerbanks x reader #outerbanks smut

[dodo-begone]

Beware the Beast

Pairing: Yandere!Philza x Reader

Request: Maybe some yandere!philza headcanons? You don’t have to!

Word Count: 2k

Warning: yandere, swearing, talk about kidnapping, depression (kinda detailed on that aspect)

A/n: I accidentally turned this into a story- i really need to stop doing that. But I just couldn't resist! Also sorry if Phil is OOC. And this isn't proofread. We die like men here. Can be perceived as platonic or romantic.

This man has lived many years, lost so many loved ones. He’s getting tired of this cycle. It’s truly exhausting. You start to care about the world less. After a while, you start to see too many similarities in things, making it hard to look at. So he starts to close his heart to others. It’s just easier that way, for both parties. Saves him from the heartbreak and them from… well, him. He also stops caring for himself. After all, he’s literally immortal. Nothing can kill this man, so neglecting some self care routines every once in a while wouldn’t hurt…

But this becomes such a bad habit of his. He barely cares for himself after a while. It’s hard to find the energy when it isn’t going to matter in the end. Nothing matters anyways. Every action will always prove fruitless in the end. So what’s the point in doing something so... small if it takes this much energy? If a past version of himself saw Phil now, they’d be disgusted. Telling him to just get up and care for himself. Come on, you’re immortal. Nothing can kill you. Just do this.

He’s a mess when you two meet. His platinum-blonde hair was mostly neat, a little shaggy. It was obvious that he just got himself cleaned up a bit. One can only do so much about deep eyebags, dull hair, and lifeless eyes on such short notice.

You were introduced to him through Ghostbur. Phil was overjoyed that Ghostbur was making more friends. Though much less pleased when Ghostbur insisted that he’d bring his new friend over to meet Phil. Oh come on Phil, you’d just love them. They’re so nice! What tortured Philza more than his first interaction with you? His conversations with Ghostbur about you. He’d just prattle on about things you and him did, about how much fun you two had and how nice you were. Always nice.

And you were nice, an absolute sweetheart. But much too perky for Philza’s liking. You two had been chatting for quite a while when Ghostbur silently leaves you two together. Well, you’re chatting. Phil is just listening to you, hoping that you’d leave at any moment. Some topics were brought up; they were mostly some small icebreakers to get acquainted more.

When your past was brought up, you’d always paint this fucking picture-perfect past. So peaceful. God, the envy he had of you, of the peace you experienced in your life- He felt bad for it, honestly, he did. But he just wished he could’ve had even a fraction of the prosperity you spoke about. For someone living in the DSMP, you had a relatively easy and steady life. No war, no major or sudden loss or anything of that sort. A perfect life.

After that, you just kept coming back. Why? Why are you coming back? Are you here to taunt him for the life he lived? For the life he’ll never have? Is some god sending you as a punishment? A living example of everything he gave up, had to leave behind. That’s what he believed, anyways.

That was far from your intentions. You saw how he was in your first meeting; jumpy yet dissociating from reality. An oppressive, glum aura seemed to just emanate him. So downtrodden and dead inside, yet so obviously alive on the outside. It hurt to see him like that, as you went through something similar. You had no idea how long he’d been like that, but you decided that you’d help him in any way that you could.

You tried to make it a daily thing. Everyday you’d go to Phil’s house around midday to afternoon. You two would talk for a bit, but you’d couldn’t help sprinkling your questions in. Have you eaten yet, mr. Philza? Have you had water today, mr. Philza? Have you preened your feathers, mr. Philza? Have you bathed today, mr. Philza?

Your questions irked Phil. Everyday, without fail, you’d come and talk to him. It’d be small talk at first; what the weather was up to that day, some light politics, Tubbo’s new adopted son. Small. Yet you’d always bring up his self care. He was a fcking grown man. He could take care of himself. What’s worse? You’d pester him to care for himself in that instant if he even showed a small sign of negligence. And you’d stay the entire time, making sure he did everything. And then you’d always add “mr. Philza” on the end. It was a sign of respect, yet it upset him so much. But he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was.

Though it was annoying, it got him in the habit of caring for himself. It was only to stop your pesting! That’s the reasoning. The only reason. It wasn’t because you’re congratulating and giving him treats when he remembered to care for himself. Or you petting his wings… Those were only bonuses! He swears!

It becomes more steady as time goes on; you go and visit Phil, you talk with Phil and see if he’s caring for himself, and if he was, you’d reveal a delicious treat from within your enderchest. You two would talk while munching on the food, having fun sharing what your pasts were like. Well, more like yours. Phil didn’t really talk about his.

But he still seems so cold, disinterested. Even with how long you’ve been going over for. Like he’s only listening to what you’re telling him. If he’s even listening. And seeing how he interacted with others like Techno and Ranboo, it really disheartened you. He was so much more lively with them, more natural. Loud laughing and silly little antics. It only took a few small, insignificant depression episodes for your self doubt to finally debilitate you. Though it only really affected your contact with Phil; he was a big insecurity of yours.

So you start to distance yourself. You were hurting and saw yourself as a bother to Philza. It would’ve been better if you just didn’t try to talk to him anymore. He’d be so much happier without you bugging him all the time. All of this sudden, open time gives you much more empty hours. There was nothing to do. So you did what you could; you went out to make or strengthen friendships. It was so nice. You never realized how everyone on the smp was so nice. Maybe they weren’t as bad as Phil was making them all out to be…

Philza was upset the first day you weren’t there. You were such a steady element of his day. You were like the very air he breathed; it was extremely hard to live without you. He never noticed before how much he needed you. Yes, he knew that he really enjoyed you, saw that you were a pillar, a constant in his life. He came to enjoy your visits, but hadn’t realized how dependent he became because of them. It was day three when Phil started to worry about you. Why hadn’t you come to talk with him, like usual? He’s taking care of himself, just for you, just like you kept insisting he do. And he made you some cake.

He knew he was acting odd, lovesick even. His love for you was toxic, extremely so. It wasn’t healthy, yet he couldn’t care less anymore. You were like his nicotine to a smoker; he couldn't live without you being in his life. His everyday life. So after some debating, he finally went out to look for you.

Traversing the nether wasn’t too bad, but still a tedious walk. He was stuck in his mind the entire trip there, wondering where you could be and what you could be doing. Maybe you got caught up in making something. A redstone project? That’d be pretty cool. Or maybe moving? No, if you were, you’d have told him. But that didn’t stop him from speeding up just a wee bit. Just to make sure you were actually still on the smp.

His mind was racing, thinking of any possibility of what you were doing. And his mind eventually hit something that absolutely terrified him; you could be sick, injured, or dying. It felt like the world just fucking stopped. This was a sudden loss of contact and you still hadn’t come to talk with him. So that… that means there’s a high probability of you being in danger.

He ran the rest of the way to the main part of the smp. When he came out of the portal, he frantically looked around for any sign of you. For your house. Then it hit him; he had no idea where you lived. You only mentioned it being cold where you lived, just like where he lived. So that most likely meant Snowchester. He started running toward the cold nation

On his way to Snowchester, he observed his surroundings. A little bit. He had to get to you, keep his eye on the prize. And he was glad that he looked around. There you were, on another part of the prime path.

He was overjoyed to see you, especially doing so well. Soon he came to a stop. Just floored by the fact you were there, in front of him. Frantically he tried to view you as best he could, looking for any sign of injury or illness.

Now he couldn’t come across as clingy or desperate. That wasn’t how you knew him. You know him as Philza; the kind but a mild social recluse. Not really going out to others unless he needed something or he was needed.

So he walked over to you, trying his best to look nonchalant. Like he wasn’t just desperately searching for you a moment ago. He called out to you and guess what happened? You started to walk away. He was stunned. Did you just ignore him? No, you must not have heard him. It was kinda windy out at the moment.

Logically he did the best option, following you. He had no clue where your destination could be. You were going to a different area of the smp than he had been. My how the smp changed since the destruction of L’manberg. He knew it changed, but it seemed so much bigger than what you described.

He didn’t exactly pay attention to where you were indirectly leading him. That was until a flash of movement caught his attention. Snapping out of it, he looked to see what could’ve been going on. Who could’ve been there. And what he saw before him was a terrible sight.

Quackity stood by your side, animatedly chatting with you. Phil was confused as to why you were talking to Quackity of all people. You two recently talked about how Quackity was problematic and arrogant. If you knew that, then why were you talking to him?

Awkwardly he watched you. Not within earshot, but where he could keep an eye on you and Quackity. And Quackity was looking at Phil too. His eyes spoke volumes; Quackity wasn’t pleased that Phil was there. Boy was that sentiment shared. It was tense between the two, yet you still seemed oblivious to what was going on.

Then Quackity said something, putting his hand on your shoulder and leading you somewhere else. But gave one last look at Phil, one that just spoke “fuck off”. Phil wished he could’ve told Quackity the same. To get him away for you.

Quackity’s action sparked a thought in him. A reason as to why you hadn’t come to talk to Phil; Quackity must’ve kidnapped you! Yes, that’s why you hadn’t come. It makes so much sense. Quackity knows you and most likely knows you talk to Phil.

With how easily you tell Phil of the people you’re talking to, he doubts that the behavior would just change. But that’s what must’ve gotten you in so much trouble; you were too trusting, too kind-hearted. You gave Quackity a chance and he was stealing you away, imprisoning you. You needn’t worry dear, he’ll rescue you from that foul man.

#tw: yandere #c: phil #dodo writing #mcyt x reader #philza x reader #dream smp x reader #yandere #yandere philza #yandere dream smp #dsmp shipping #tw: swearing #yandere x reader #yandere philza x reader #c: quackity #tw: depression #tw: mental health

[ronnieiswriting]

Sweet Dreams- Boxer!Paz x Baker!Freader

Inspired by the events of Foul (following straight after) and the Boxer Din AU created and written by the wonderful, amazing, brilliantly talented @djarinsbeskar! WC: 1,641 Tags: 18+, mentions of smut, its a smutty AU ya'll know the drill, sickeningly sweet fluff I have been driven to write this to deal with all my Paz thots- it will become very clear that I make up for the fact that I can't write hot smut by writing the softest shit. Excuse the lack of editing, also, its quite the mess x

After Din had stormed off with his “not-girlfriend” at Avika, Paz was more than ready to go home right then and there, thoroughly unwanting to deal with the feral frenzy that Din had stirred up in and out the ring. But there was no doubt that there would be more calls for blood. And even if that weren’t the case- even if Din wasn’t on the lists tonight- Paz had to stay.

It was his job after all. And one he enjoyed more often than not.

But when he thought about you, Paz’s priorities became trivial- like dust in the wind.

He hadn’t been dating you for long but he already knew that he was in deep. To Paz, you were the one that hung the stars in the sky; you, a hardworking baker with a smile that made his heart ache and hips that made his cock twitch. It was love, the realest he’d ever found, and every day he swore his gratitude to whatever force had sent him to you.

It was almost a taunt to watch Din leave Avika with his “not-girlfriend” tucked into his side- he’d been disqualified from any more fights that night but he couldn’t look any less content about it- when Paz had to stay behind with nothing but the thoughts of you waiting for him back at his place to keep him company.

To pass a bit of time between the words that were being exchanged between Boba and Din’s opponent’s trainer, Paz checked his phone- his mood instantly brightened when he saw a notification from you.

From: Sugar Cookie💖

Hey babe, I just got home. Did you feed Kitty yet? He’s begging me for food rn but I know he’s probs got a full belly and is just being a little gobble guts lol. sent 4:13am

I gave him a tinyyy bit of kibble to hold him over in case you didn’t. Kitty knows I can’t resist him. Sorry for messaging you at work btw. I know you’re busy xx Love you xx sent 4:19am

Paz checked the current time. 5:30am. Shit. He must’ve missed the buzz of the notification amidst the chaos. Usually, your shifts at the bakery ended closer to midnight but he knew you to be a hard worker, proud of the bakery you ran by yourself, and always likely to get caught up in a task until it was done to a high standard. It was just another thing for Paz to love about you.

His thumbs hovered over the reply box; you had probably already gone to bed, exhausted from your own long day of work. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb you but he pushed past that doubt a second later, typing out a response, softened when he reread your messages about his kitten.

“Vizsla!” Boba’s voice pulled him back into reality. “Are you listening at all? This does concern you.”

Paz managed an easy half-lie, fingers tapping away as he switched contacts and began typing another message, “I’m sending Din a text- trying to figure out what started all this.”

…

When Paz finally did get home it was pushing 8am. Expecting to find you curled up in his bed, comfortably asleep, he was shocked to see you as soon as he opened the door to his apartment. You were propped up against a wall of cushions on his couch with a book resting in your lap and his kitten snoozing on your chest. Head thrown back and peacefully still, he could tell you were fast asleep.

Just the sight of you, the shape of your body outlined by the drape of the blanket that was thrown over you, your features illuminated by the warm light of the lamp, the splay of your hair over the pillows- just looking at you relieved him of so much of the stress he had carried home. His eyes traced over your form, picking out the dip and curve of your hips, and he was struck again with the amount of love he had for you. He still couldn’t believe how quickly he had developed such deep feelings for you but that fact made them no less sincere. The softness and simple intimacy (whether that be primarily sexual or emotional) that your company alone promised never ceased to amaze him.

Trying to be as quiet as he could manage, Paz shut the door behind him, put his backpack down by the door, and crossed the room to kneel down at your side. He considered leaving you there for the rest of the night- if he did he could go take a nap and then come back and wake you up by eating you out before making you breakfast- but ultimately he wanted to, needed to sleep next to you… and he couldn’t manage that on the couch.

He got the best sleep when you stayed the night, your chest made a far better pillow and your arms though relatively small provided him with so much warmth that he would be more than content to sleep without any covers (which happened sometimes when you hoarded the blankets).

Paz let out a silent sigh and reached out to stroke the hair away from your face. You stirred in response and he leaned in to press a kiss to your nose, “Hey, baby, it’s just me.”

You let out a soft moan, eyes scrunching up before blinking open, looking up at him blearily, “Paz~”

His heart could have burst at the sound of your gentle voice laden with sleep. Carefully so as not to disturb your place, Paz eased the book from your fingers. The exhaustion was palpable on your face, the weight of many hours of work pulling at the edges of your eyes. “I thought you’d be in bed by now.”

You eased yourself up on the cushions, one hand bracing the kitten against your chest. “I wanted to stay up for you. I didn’t mean to doze off.” Fuck. Paz was slipping his arms under you faster than you could process and when he stood you were tucked against his chest, kitten, blanket and all. You didn’t even seem bothered by the shift, curling your fingers into the neckline of his shirt. The simple touch drove him wild- the burn of your warm skin against his throat like a blowtorch- and the fact that you seemed oblivious to that only made him ache for you more.

When he had gotten you halfway to the bedroom you spoke again in that voice that threatened sleep, “I would've been able to stay up for you if I didn’t have to spend three hours on a last minute order for a wedding cake.”

Paz opened the door with his hip. “You don’t have to say yes to every job you know.”

“I know- but the couple was so sweet, I couldn’t say no. Plus they paid me double and half on top because of the short notice.”

He laid you out on the bed and replaced the throw blanket with his thick quilt, kitten moving to curl up beside your head on the pillow. The comfortable setting was luring you quickly to sleep again but you were still determined to see him next to you before you shut your eyes again fully. When he didn’t immediately join you, you frowned.

Paz eased the crease in your brow with a kiss there, “Don’t pout, sweetheart. I just gotta take a shower.” He could have skipped one for now, knowing you wouldn’t protest his sweaty skin, but he wanted to be rid of the flecks of blood that had stuck to him, everything that had stuck to him from that ring, before he touched you. You started to protest but Paz silenced you with a searing kiss to your lips, “I won’t be long, I promise.”

If he had thought you would be back asleep by the time he finished he was fooling himself. You scooched backwards on the mattress and petted the space you made in front, “come here.”

Paz went willingly, instantly. He eased back the covers and shuffled in next to you, clad only in a pair of boxers, hands instantly finding your skin to greedily palm the warmth that radiated from you. You cozied up to him just as naturally, arms wrapping around his neck so that he could tuck his face against the crook of your neck. With the covers pulled over the both of you, Paz felt surrounded by your presence and it calmed any remaining stress he had.

Although he had reprimanded Din for taking a violent approach to defending a woman’s honor, Paz couldn’t deny the fact that he’d be just as likely to take a similar action if anyone spoke about you like that- just thinking about those vile, entitled words directed at you made his jaw clench subconsciously. And yet just as soon as that anger stirred up in him, it dissipated again, soothed by the thump of your heart against his chest and the delicate fan of air you puffed over his damp skin.

He was reminded of the first time he told you he loved you; not long ago, in the middle of a good hard fuck when he had you by the hip, lost in the emotion of your eyes to the point where his confession had come out as a babble that became a mantra that he punctuated with each thrust of his hips. You had been on the verge of tears then, overstimulated and shaking, when you returned the words to him from your own lips: I love you too.

“I love you.” Paz whispered.

You snuggled against him tighter, a sleepy sigh escaping you when his hands ran up and down your sides. “I love you too.”

#the mandolorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #paz vizla au #paz vizla #paz vizsla #paz vizla x reader #paz vizla x you #paz viszla #paz x reader #paz vizsla x reader #the mandalorian modern au #boxer!paz #baker!reader #boxer au #ronnie's actual writing

[yandere-sins]

I love the stuff you got here! Can I request for a yandere Dabi with a feisty darling? Thank you so much in advance!

Thanks for reading! Enjoy ^^

»»———————— ♡ ————————««  

All the kicking and screaming truly was a vain effort, but Dabi liked watching you trying your hardest nonetheless. Your body was writhing beneath him, legs pulled in to keep his hovering form from descending onto you, and your elbow in his throat to keep his mouth from closing in as well. “You stink!” you complained loudly, and Dabi smirked, knowing full well he didn’t take the time to wash up after the last mission.

Knowing it would bother you even more.

Sure, he could have been nice. Let you get accustomed to him through time—but why would he? It was so much more fun to destroy your will through the desperation that came with being unable to do anything against your captor. Dabi knew you cried yourself to sleep when you thought he was out for the day. That you got up to try and unlock the door. He even mumbled ‘in his sleep’ just to enjoy the seconds of silence as you held your breath. While you weren’t a game to him, this situation sure was.

However, by now, he wouldn’t have minded if he could have had just one calm evening with you. It didn’t matter to him that you were here for a week already or that he was crossing boundaries you wished him not to. Every time you spit into his face, Dabi felt the same thrill he only knew from burning enemies. But what you didn’t realize was that you were enabling him to do those cruel things even more. And frankly, despite the fun he was having, it was slowly getting exhausting to deal with you. Not even he knew how long he could keep up playing nice with you when you were challenging him every second you two were together.

“I didn’t think it would be so much trouble,” he sighed to no one in particular. Rolling his eyes away, even your struggles ceased for the moment as you raised an eyebrow. Luckily, you didn’t know what he meant, or you might have laughed at him. Still, truth be told, the whole ’falling in love’ seemed easier when presented in movies and the occasional manga he was handed.

Catching your free hand suddenly pushing into his face, Dabi grinned, sticking out his tongue to give it a lick, risking your reaction to his taunt. Repulsed, you pulled back, instead building a fist, but throwing your shoulder into his direction with it, you neglected the push on his throat, allowing him to dodge the punch by kissing you. See? Much better, he thought, nibbling at your teeth while your struggles grew angrier.

It had been a while since he got to kiss you, but your lips were still as soft and plush as he remembered them. Your taste lingering on his tongue almost made him proud, reminding him that you were using his toothbrush in an attempt to clean your teeth at all. He wasn’t that terrible of a boyfriend, was he? After all, he not only saved you from the mundane life you were slipping into, but he also cared for your well-being enough to allow you to use his property.

“Have you struggled enough?” he taunted you, only moving his lips inches away from yours to talk. Crushed under the weight of his body, and perhaps shocked by the sudden affection, you had stopped fighting for the moment, only to bare your teeth in frustration, snapping for him. Today wasn’t the day you were going to become docile—that much he understood.

Pity, really, but Dabi would survive it. Leaning down to escape your futile tries to bite him with another kiss, he reached up to your hand buried under his body until you were flinching too hard to return his affection. The singeing heat of blue flames licking at your wrist was enough to bring tears to your eyes. No matter how feisty, aggressive, and - in a cute way - defiant you were, in the eyes of danger and pain, you were nothing at all.

Not like Dabi didn’t know what he was getting into before capturing you. Diligent worker, just defender of society, and as sweet as a piece of cake. Mind you, he didn’t only mean your ass with that. Those were the three things he used to describe you when he asked for permission to bring you in. Shigeraki only, understandably, sighed at that, shaking his head as if Dabi’s arguments hadn’t been convincing, but it was one of the only favors he ever asked him for. One could think that you were a bit more grateful for his hard work, but no, at the end of that memory, you were crying.

“God, I hate you!” you screamed at him, tugging your wrist out of his grip. Oops, he thought, seeing the burn at your skin, and feeling the heat as well as you pulled it close to his face while covering your eyes. That would leave another mark for sure.

“That’s rough, sugar,” he pouted, trying to shove your arm away from your face, but you only stirred beneath him, trying to turn to the side. Now you were sulking. Even if it should have been him sulking after you’ve been mean to him all week. It wasn’t Dabi’s fault that he fell in love with you. Really, it wasn’t anyone’s, but you sure liked to blame him for it. But in the end, it was always him who was left scarred by your words, his heart throbbing sadly at how cold you were treating him.

However, as it seemed, you understood your place after the threat he burned into your wrist. Getting back onto his palms with an arm on either side of you, Dabi watched as you turned over, finally free of his weight. Pulling in your legs, your once so tough demeanor seemed to change. When you put down your arm, he could see how you were trying your best not to meet his eyes, staring stubbornly at the wall, but you still hadn’t lost your fire. Just like his blue flames raging all over you when you tried to defy him, your eyes were burning with the flames of hatred and frustration. Those flames had yet to turn into ash, but Dabi was happy to see you so alive after all.

Chuckling to himself, he gave you a disgusting smooch to the cheek. Too long, too wet, too unwelcome to be anything but a statement. “I won,” that’s what it said, and the flames in your eyes only began to stir more from the arrogance Dabi was displaying to you.

“You’ll find out it’s not too bad with me soon enough,” he promised, stretching as he got off you. You didn’t move now, didn’t react to his words, and it was a behavior he knew all too well by now. Funnily, you were trying to scold him by ignoring him. It wasn’t working, but it amused him enough to wear a broad grin on his lips. Have it your way if you so pleased, but Dabi decided to take a shower with your shared toothbrush to let off some steam. There was so much more he could do to you that you feared to even think about. So much more that he could break your feisty attitude with. But he was waiting to use it at the right moment. The moment it would make the biggest impact on your life.

The pillow hitting his back only made a sad ‘thud’ before falling to the floor. Looking back over his shoulder curiously, Dabi saw you sitting on the bed, your arm still up in the air after your throw and lines of fallen tears adorning your cheeks. Ah, your cuteness knew no limits, frustration plastered all over your face. Frustration with him, your situation, everything. You hated him, and Dabi loved you for it.

Picking the pillow up from the ground, he sauntered back towards you. A short, rampant outburst of blue flames cooked the poor fabric and feathers into mere dust that dispersed in the room. His grin only grew uncomfortably broad, staples tearing at the charred skin. Your eyes grew wide like a deer in the headlights as you looked at him, almost as if you had a sudden realization.

How dumb of him to not notice earlier when he was toying with you.

Notice that the moment he had been waiting for was already there.

#Dabi #yandere dabi #yandere!dabi #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #BnHA #Boku no Hero Academia #MHA #My Hero Academia #yandere bnha #yandere!bnha #yandere mha #yandere!mha #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

[absolutepokemontrash]

MC is Half-Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar Part 2!

Part 1 Lessons 1-5 Lessons 5-6 Group Retreat Lessons 10-12 Lessons 13-15 Part 3 Part 4

Okay, They’re Your Cousins but You’re Not Sure How They’re Related to You...

(Barbatos, Simeon, Solomon, and Luke)

(It’s mostly Luke)

Barbs likes smol Lucifer. Smol Lucifer likes Barbs. They bake together with Luke. MC nearly set the kitchen on fire. MC needed to learn to cook.

MC is forever delegated to mixing duty because they refuse to admit that they don’t know how to work the oven.

Simeon is the one telling MC embarrassing stories about Lucifer and the rest of the Student Council from when they were all angels. Lucifer never hated Simeon more than when he found out that Simeon told MC about how hard Lucifer cried when he got to hold baby Mammon for the first time. MC was sworn to secrecy.

Well... sworn to secrecy, but if Uncle Mammon just happened to find out through a series of coincidences it wouldn’t be MC’s fault, right?

Simeon also tried to help teach MC to fly... but he kept distracting them with stories about Lucifer and Michael learning to fly.

“So my father was even WORSE than he told me he was?!”

“Yes, he actually challenged Michael and Raphael to a race at one point. Lucifer ended up slamming directly into a wall because he didn’t know how to stop.”

“SIMEON!”

Solomon was absolutely fascinated with MC. How did their half demon half human nature affect their reaction to certain spells and potions? Do half demons have more or less magical strength than normal demons? Can half demons make pacts with humans? Wait- Lucifer why are you taking MC away they were talking- Lucifer!

Immortal troll needs to troll. MC is the unwitting victim of many of Solomon’s shenanigans.

“Why must I speak in rhymes?! This is the end of times!”

“MC, just stop talking.”

“Father, I don’t mean to be a bother but-”

“So the rhyming spell works the same on half demons... interesting...”

“Solomon...”

“I’m leaving, Lucifer. I’m leaving!”

Aw! Two kids in the Devildom! They were fast friends. Sure, Luke was a little annoying and MC was a bit of a dick, but their mutual smallness and desire to impress their parental figures brought them together.

“Michael’s just so cool and amazing! The way he flies, the way he commands everyone... I want to be just like him someday!”

“Is that why you’re making a cake?”

“Michael has a sweet tooth, and I want to impress him.”

“I wonder if Lucifer likes sweets...”

“Why would you want to give HIM sweets?”

MC just gave Luke a toothy grin and started making the dough for the cake.

Remember back in Lucifer’s section where I said MC would keep their lineage a secret to freak people out? Yeah... they kept it from Luke. At first it was a joke! They were going to tell him! They just uh... it got really awkward. They planned on revealing it to Luke right after they learned how to properly fly so they could swoop in, pick their angel buddy up and zip the two of them to school. It’d freak Luke out at first, but it was meant to be funny! MC would have even sung the song from Aladdin! It um... didn’t turn out that way.

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” MC growled at the lesser demons that were crowding Luke.

“O-oh... uh... nuh-nothing...” a few of the demons backed off, mumbling a few harried apologies to MC as they scurried away. The remaining demons seemed a tad more... hmm... they say there’s a fine line between bravery and stupidity.

“M-MC! You can’t fight demons! I’m an angel I-I c-can...” Luke sniffled, but tried his best to step in front of MC.

“Oh please, the little half-breed and the lowest ranked angel are going to put up a fight?” One of the demons jeered, a few of the remaining demons joined in.

MC’s eyes narrowed, their glare as cold as the worst winter storm. “I’m going to tell you once, and once only,”

Their wings sprouted from their back, horns now fully grown and on display, teeth sharper and glistening in the light. Hm, it seemed half demons could make their eyes glow too, how delightful.

MC gave the other demons a sweet smile, it would have been comforting if it weren’t for the amount of teeth they were showing off. They lazily placed their hand on Luke’s head and lightly moved him out of the way.

“Leave, or I will make you regret ever crossing us exchange students.” MC’s carefree smile couldn’t mask the malice that coated every single word that left their lips. “Run along now, you’re not needed here.”

The demon that had started the taunts stiffened, he looked from MC, to Luke, to the other demons, before scoffing and shaking his head. “Whatever, the two of them aren’t worth it anyway...”

When the offending demons weren’t leaving fast enough for MC’s liking, they snapped their fingers and shot a fireball right behind the fleeing demons’ feet. They cleared out pretty quickly after that.

“Luke?” MC turned to look at their friend. “Are you...”

Luke was backing away. That look in his eyes, he was... scared. Scared of MC...

“Y-you’re a d-demon?” He whimpered, taking another step back.

“Half demon, actually.” MC let their demonic elements disappear. “I meant to tell you, I really did! It just was never the right time-”

“You lied to me! You said you were human! But you’re a demon like the rest of them!” Luke shouted, he wiped at his eye with his sleeve and sniffled. “I tried to help you, but you just..! I thought you were my friend!”

“Luke- hang on!” MC took a few steps forward, but Luke was already running away. MC felt something twist in their gut, something awful. That ball of innate pride twisted and practically screamed, filling MC’s head.

“He’s not worth it!”

“You’re above him anyway...”

“If he can’t understand how perfect you are, he doesn’t deserve your kindness.”

“Don’t grovel for his forgiveness. He’s beneath you.”

“Your help was rejected. Let him hate you. You’re the child of one of the most powerful demons in the Devildom, who is he to make you upset?”

The thoughts filled MC’s head as they desperately tried to shut them up. They were their father’s child, their pride wouldn’t be easily combated.

“Just be quiet!” MC clawed at their head.

“You’re better than this. You’re better than this. You’re better than this-”

“Luke!” MC called out again. “I’m sorry!”

It truly was a shame that their friend didn’t understand how much an apology from MC really meant.

They guessed Luke was right, wasn’t he? Demons were nasty awful liars. MC was no different...

That hurt.

Lucifer noticed his kid was moping around, not even Detective Toe Beans could cheer them up. Mammon even came home covered in mud from a failed money-making scheme and it didn’t even make MC crack a smile! He needed to get to the bottom of this.

Upon hearing the reason for his child’s woes, he was fully ready to break down the door of Purgatory Hall and throttle the little chihuahua, but Lucifer came to his senses and realized that MC probably didn’t want that.

He teamed up with Simeon and Solomon the things he did for MC... And managed to get both Luke and MC to the Demon Lord’s Castle to hang out with Barbatos.

It didn’t take a genius to realize that Luke missed his friend too. Sure they called him a chihuahua sometimes, but they were still the bestest friend he had made during his time in the exchange program... maybe ever...

Maybe... just maybe... he overreacted. MC did protect him after all, and they never tried to hurt him...

Barbatos was fully ready to fulfill his role as Luke’s second dad and help his angel-son make up with his friend.

It may have been awkward at first, but the two had to join forces to stop Solomon from getting within a hundred metres of the kitchen. Nothing brings two people back together more than fear for your tastebuds.

Mission success. Lucifer could relax knowing that his kid and the chihuahua were back to being friends. Maybe MC could convince Luke to quiet his infernal yapping... Lucifer was trying to work here!

For some extra fluff, after many days of asking and asking, Lucifer and Simeon agree to take Luke and MC up to the human world for Halloween. They got to go trick or treating, and everyone complimented MC and Luke on their ‘costumes’.

*insert sitcom laugh track here*

Sure, it may have been a little immoral for MC to use their powers to manipulate the humans into giving Luke and MC more candy but... candy...

Oh shit would you look at the time- they had to get back to the Devildom for Diavolo’s birthday party- MC STOP WITH THE CHOCOLATE! THE SIGN SAYS TAKE ONE! DON’T BE LIKE MAMMON.

The exchange year had been a success. Well... sort of. MC wasn’t exactly the average Joe human the Student Council expected, which is why after a lengthy break where MC went back to the human world to visit their other parent and human friends, the seven rulers of Hell (+MC) were sitting and waiting for the new exchange students to arrive.

Unlike the previous year, the entire student council was present. That included Levi who they had to physically drag there, Belphie who was carried there and had to be placed in his seat because he was completely passed out, and finally Mammon, he just had to be threatened.

“Father,” MC pouted from their seat next to Lucifer. “Why isn’t my chair as big as yours?”

Lucifer sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Because you’re much shorter than me. You can have a bigger chair when you grow a few more inches.”

“Mmm...” MC murmured, crossing their arms. “Are the students going to get here, or what?”

“Can you be patient?” Lucifer asked. “They’ll be here any moment now. I can trust that you’ll behave, right?”

MC looked scandalized, placing a hand over their heart and gasping. “Father! Of course! I’ll be the most polite person these humans have ever met!”

Not so deep down, Lucifer severely doubted that.

“Come now, Lucifer and MC!” Diavolo said from his elevated seat. “It’s almost eight am!”

Right on schedule the portal opened, two sets of screams followed.

“The next big priority should be making the trip more comfortable.” MC huffed. “It’s demeaning getting dropped straight down like that and just slamming into the floor.”

“Hm.” Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Perhaps instead we can just teleport them up to the Celestial Realm, start a war, and have them crash through not one, not two, but all three barriers between the realms with no portal.”

“Father...” MC matched Lucifer’s eye roll. “That has the same energy as ‘when I was your age I walked to school 100 miles through a blizzard!’ The polite thing to do for the exchange students is to not let them hit the floor at 100 mph and possibly give them a concussion.”

And slam straight onto the floor the two other exchange students did. Well, one of them slammed right into the marble, the other had tried in vain to use their wings to slow their decent or fly back up.

Wait...

WINGS?!

WAIT THE OTHER HAD HORNS?!

THEY BOTH HAD-

Oh and would you look at that... one looked like... and the other looked like-

Shitballs.

Lucifer had to keep himself from actually shouting in frustration. One normal day... one day of no exchange student issues was all he asked for...

“Out of over ten million candidates out of over eight billion humans...” Lucifer grumbled. “How in my father’s name did this happen again?”

(OOOOOOOOOO SEQUEL BAIT!)

#Obey me #I’m not good at writing angst... I’m so sorry #Obey me! #obey me shall we date #I’m a crack and fluff writer... #obey me! shall we date? #Obey me Headcanons #Obey me! Headcanons #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me MC #Obey me Luke #Obey me Simeon #Obey me Solomon #obey me barbatos #Lucifer’s Kid

[ladykissingfish]

drunk Akatsuki hc? 🥺

Ask and ye shall receive! ((Sorry it took so long to get to/finish this. Also get the nagging feeling I did a post very similar to this before but 🤷🏽‍♀️ piss poor memory so))

Drinking with the Akatsuki

Kakuzu

Takes a lot to get him drunk; his alcohol tolerance is pretty damn high. And when he does reach that point, he becomes … very unlike himself. Friendly, smiling, and extremely loose with his precious money. Kakuzu being drunk is the best time to ask him for an advance on your pay, or a personal loan. Another bonus: drunk Kakuzu is storytime Kakuzu. When he’s sober, the others don’t really like listening to his stories because they’re all boring as hell, and are usually centered around some point that he’s trying to nag everyone on. But drunk Kakuzu, well, he’ll tell you about brawls, dangerous stunts he pulled when he was a kid, sometimes even old lovers. He can keep the rest of the Akatsuki enraptured for hours with his intoxicated tales. The morning after a night of drinking is a different tale, though. He’ll remember loaning money to people and hunt them down to make sure that know they have to pay him back, and he’ll deny like crazy any story tidbits that the others bring up to him. Will also go through several pots of pure black coffee in an effort to de-hangover himself more quickly.

Pein

The Pein bodies don’t drink, but Nagato will, very rarely. Beer is his drink of choice, and he’ll opt for foreign rather than domestic. He’s not really the type to get full-on drunk (no matter what he’s the Leader and he carries himself as such), rather he’ll just get slightly tipsy. If he gets tipsy enough he’ll rant a bit to whoever’s closest about pain, and the unfairness of life, and anything else that would put a downer on happy drinkers’ moods. He always hopes that the alcohol will help him to sleep (he’s a horrible insomniac) but most times it just gives him a slight headache while leaving him wide-wake and dry-mouthed.

Hidan

Nobody wants to be around this guy when he’s had too much to drink, because the normally violent Hidan becomes even more so after hitting the booze. He’ll be willing to take on any and everyone, from teenagers to old men. And being immortal doesn’t help matters any; he could literally get torn limb from limb and his mouth would still be taunting his opponents with “Is that the best ya got, bastard??” Drinking also brings out his creative side when it comes to his human sacrifices and Jashin rituals; he’ll think up new (and horrible) ways to torment and kill his victims. Is the type to finally, FINALLY just completely pass out after reaching his final tolerance point, and the others will (reluctantly) drag him to his room and put him in his bed. Not many are willing to do this, however, as most times before he passes out he’ll have stripped himself completely naked.

Tobi

An emotional drunk. Gets sad and cries over practically anything. And it doesn’t take much to get him tanked, either; his tolerance level is embarrassingly low and he’ll be ready to sob after just a couple of glasses of wine. Tobi tries to avoid drinking when he can because he knows there’s a good chance of him dropping his persona and letting the others see Obito Uchiha. In fact this HAS happened a few times, where he’a taken off his mask and everything; fortunately for him the others were so gone that the next day they either didn’t remember, or believed that had just imagined the whole thing. Likes to soothe himself by slurring sad love songs at the top of lungs, joined most frequently by Deidara and Hidan. Will also drunkenly stuff his face with meats, which is a complete opposite from his sweet-loving sober self. He can throw down a dozen burgers when boozed up, the results of which will likely be in puddles all over the floor the next day. Will go to his bed and turn around in circles a bunch of times, like a dog, before finally going to sleep. “Tobi” will be the quietest he’s ever been the next day, as he fights a massive headachy hangover.

Konan

For being such a thin, delicate girl, Konan can hold her liquor right up there with the likes of Kakuzu and Kisame. One might never even know that she’s drunk to begin with; she walks perfectly straight, doesn’t slur her words, has almost perfect reflexes and normal mannerisms. One thing always gives her away, however; drunk Konan is hungry Konan. Under normal circumstances the little lady sticks to a healthy diet and isn’t one for over-indulging in anything. One shot or beer too many, and suddenly the gloves are off. Konan will make pizza, hotdogs, gigantic sundaes, cakes and pies … and devour almost all of it. She’ll share with the others if asked … but most times she’s eaten so much that there’s not much left to share. When she’s finally had her fill, she’ll go to bed … and wake up feeling sick as a dog the next morning. After the nausea passes, she’ll force herself to go for a long run or walk, no matter how much her head may be aching, in order to work off her excessive calorie intake.

Zetsu

Zetsu doesn’t drink, because alcohol interferes with his plant genetics, acting as literal poison to his system. But he enjoys being around the others when they’re drunk, to see the different types of personalities that emerge. Likes to hang around Hidan in particular, as the man’s sacrifices pick up significantly when he’s drunk, meaning Zetsu has more of a smorgasbord of leftovers to pick from

Sasori

As a puppet, Sasori doesn’t drink. But when he was a human, it was a different story. He turned himself into a non-human at a very young age, much younger, of course, than would have been the legal drinking age. But his grandmother kept a variety of wines in their home, and when she was away, he liked to pour himself a glass. Always only a single glass; he was intelligent enough both to know that his grandmother would notice if any larger of a quantity was missing, and, already dabbling in making poisons at this point, he understood the concept of “tolerance” better than most. But the single glass was enough; it seemed to comfort him during those nights when he was missing his mother and father. The wine also served as a brain-opener for him, of sorts: it was over wine that he first got the idea of turning himself into a puppet.

Deidara

Being young and so slender, and not having much experience with alcohol before joining the Akatsuki, the blonde is a bit of a light-weight when it comes to the hooch. He doesn’t really care for beers or ales (he compares the taste to “cat-piss”) and instead goes for the fruity mixed drinks that don’t SEEM that strong … until you’ve had about three or four, and they put you on your ass. Deidara becomes very lovey-dovey when drunk, and not just in a romantic sense. Alcohol makes everyone in the world his friend, and he’s suddenly interested in what others have to say about life and art. He’s even nice to Itachi, going so far as to hug him and tell him that he smells good, something that he will vehemently deny the next day. He’ll go to Sasori and cling to him and gush about how he appreciates his friendship and his guidance, until Sasori gets tired of him and tells him to go to sleep. Deidara can get to his room on his own, but once the door closes, he’s more likely to pass out on the floor than in his own bed. Also, if he didn’t think to tie up his long hair beforehand, he’ll be in for a nasty, messy surprise when he inevitably wakes up to vomit at some point.

Itachi

Itachi isn’t one to ever let himself lose control of his senses, no matter the situation. Therefore, if he’s drinking with the others, he’ll stick to one or two beers or a single shot before cutting himself off for the evening. He plays much of a “mom” role in the group, making sure the others are okay, lending a shoulder to cry on for the emotional drunks, and, if they’re out somewhere, making sure everyone gets home safe and sound. On the rare, RARE occasions he drinks by himself, and lets go of his hesitation, he’s just as emotional a drinker as Tobi (which is quite possibly an Uchiha trait). He’ll cry into his pillow, he’ll sit and lament over the choices he’s made in life. Sometimes he’ll find and put on the saddest song or movie he can think of, just so he has something to get emotional over. Although this sounds bad, this is actually a helpful bit of therapy for him, as it allows him to release emotions that he normally keeps bottled up. He’ll end a night of solo drinking with a cup of tea, then go quietly to bed, sleeping like a rock until the sun comes up and things go back to normal.

Kisame

Right up there with Kakuzu as being a guy that can hold his liquor like a champ. In fact his ability to do so has won him many drinking challenges at bars, as well as a formidable reputation as “one bad ass son of a bitch”. It also helps him confidence-wise; normally the half-shark is very reserved and keeps to himself, as he feels that his appearance is off-putting and scary to “normal” people. But alcohol loosens him up and gets him talking, and being bold, and many people find this switch in personality to be highly attractive. Ladies especially take notice of his smile, his eyes … and his muscles. He even scores several phone numbers from interested parties … but by the time he’s sober again, he never follows through with calling anyone. Also helps Itachi in that he keeps an eye on the others when they drink, to make sure that they’re safe.

#the akatsuki #drinking #kisame #itachi uchiha #zetsu #sasori #kakuzu #deidara #hidan #nagato #konan #tobi #obito uchiha #naruto #headcanon

[alvhiedeir]

Title: Is that all you got?

Pairing: Indra x gn!reader

Tw: drinking, mention of sex within influence (both of them are so nonconsensual?), Language, nsfw-ish

Note: I literally typed this without drafts before sleeping so not proofread

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!"

When did things go wrong? There where many, many bad choices made last night. Which exactly, was the question.

Maybe when you agreed to go drinking with the other gods, something that you rarely do? But it has been a stressful few many days for you and drinking one or two might help with it.

Or maybe that's when things went downhill. Rather than one or two, you drunk maybe half the club's worth of alcohol. That sounded exaggerated but that's what the hungover felt like. After your first one, your friends' encouragement and teasing lead you to down one more.

And another.

And another.

And another.

'Till you can't tell what's louder, the roar of the crowd egging you on or your own laughter echoing around as you danced a little to provocatively.

Maybe that's what lead a certain Indian god to approach your drunken self.

Eyes droopy but mischievous, lips tugging into a smirk as you pulled him close to your body. Hips swaying just the right way to get him intoxicated but pulling away just as fast with a cheeky laugh.

And he doesn't seemed to mind your little game.

Oh no.

He loved it.

The ever so diligent and modest you, playfully messing with him. With lips painted with red and seduction, who in their right mind won't take the bait.

And so he played with you.

Hands on your hips and back, calloused hands tracing the skin revealed by your clothes. Just imaging how pretty it would look all bruised and covered by his marks. When you pull away laughing, he would follow, his own chuckles leaving his lips in a low tone.

Maybe this wasn't the sole reason for your predicament. But you're sure as hell this was a vital point.

Especially after your little game, you found yourself pressed against an empty hallway. The sound of the party nothing but a gentle him in the background as he stared at you, eyes ever so impatient.

He pressed his head closer to your, breath smelling thick of alcohol and cigarettes. His tongue darts out to lick his drying lips, all the while his eyes stared at yours.

Then he closed the gap.

Ah, maybe this was your worst decision of the night.

You were drunk. He was drunk. But rather than doing what any rational person - god if you will - would do, you didn't push him away and said this wasn't right. That you shouldn't.

Oh no.

You wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer, deeper as it already is. Tongue seeking out his own to dance with. Greedy and hungry, you kissed back with such vigor as he did.

He held your head with one hand and the other claimed a spot on your back, pulling your body closer. Molding your body to fit his, wanting to feel every inch that you had to offer.

And you just laid yourself on a silver platter.

With a tug of his hair, you pulled back from the kiss. Your eyes took focus on his face, and shit. Was it just the lighting or he always this pretty?

His hair was a mess as per usual but both his eyes were clear for you to admire. It held a perfect amount of hunger, lust and admiration just enough to make your excitement to grow. But what got your legs shaking was his lips. Bruised and swollen from your bitting and beautifully decorated by your red lipstick. With each gasping breath he took, you can't help but to think how nice of a color it is to him.

And how he would look covered in it.

You made many bad turns this evening but this was the icing on the cake.

Swipping your tongue across your lips, you leaned forward to his ear. Teasingly taking the lobe between your teeth before whispering lowly,

"Is that all you got, Indra?"

And believe me, you have no idea what he can do.

So as you try to scurry to find you clothes scattered across the room (whose room you did not bother asking nor thinking as it will just intensify your own embarrassment), you can't help but curse at yourself.

"Fuck where are my underwear?!"

The ruffling of the bed sheets made you freeze on the spot. Head turning ever so slowly towards the sleeping figure on the bed, you almost let out a sigh of relief as he settled back into sleep after turning.

"Damn, looks like I'm going commando today."

You tried to look as presentable as possible before turning to leave but the memories of last night made you stop.

Was it just because of the lighting?

Curiosity will truly kill the cat.

As silent as your panicked self can be, you tiptoed to the bed and and looked at the god laying on his back, one arm on his head the other hidden under the blanket.

With all the courage that you (shouldn't) have, you peeled the cover away just above his waist and you had to say. Being drunk didn't deter your idea a pretty.

He did look pretty with those red marks.

With your curiosity satisfied, with a pounding heart you did your walk of shame with the only difference is that you're running.

And you thought that was the end?

Karma's a bitch and life loves drama.

And it's just so happen that you're their new favorite show.

A week passed after your little escapade, and let's us say you had to walk the long way over just to avoid a certain somebody. Even going as far as hiding in a closet for a solid 10 minutes.

And the one moment you had your guard down, he just happen to be there.

Against you.

Pinning you once again.

In broad daylight.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck"

"Look who it is."

His voice was both amused and taunting. His larger frame towering over you as he lean closer, the memories of that night resurfacing, along with the red ess of your cheeks.

He laughs when he notices the color on your face. His one visible eye filled with humour as he watch you try to push yourself deeper against the wall, as if it can swallow you.

"Why are you embarrassed now when you said and did a lot more than-"

"Indra!"

He barked put a laugh at your loud response, your cheeks tainting into am even darker shade at your own volume.

"I'm just here to ask two things, don't worry." Your eyes were weary but none the less nodded for him to continue.

And you probably shouldn't of didn't want to turn into a tomato.

"Is this your's?"

In his hands, he held up a black underwear, the one you left in a hurry to leave, unceremoniously twirling it in his finger that anyone walking by can see.

Your hands shoot out to grab the offending garment in his hands but he held it further from your reach. He smirked as you ended up leaning against his chest, face once again a few centimeters away from his own. And when you tried to pulled back he already had an arm wrapped around your waist, effectively cutting away your chance of escaping.

Sly bastard.

"Damnit Indra! Give that back!"

He smirked, a low laugh escaping his lips.

Sly, sexy bastard.

"I'll give it back, I just have another question."

You tried to reach for your garments once again but he led it higher and started twirling it again. One wrong move and it can fly away into the floor and someone might just-

"Fine! Fine! Ask your stupid question!"

You can hear your own pride shattering in the background but you swallowed to shards and stared at him.

He laughed again, and you swore if he laughed one more time you're going to throw hands.

"Calling it stupid is kind of mean."

"Just say it."

He smirked at your snarky reply, eyes starring at you so intently that your wounded pride almost let you whine.

He lead down his head, pushing you, once again on the wall. One arm on you waist, the other - still holding the blasted underwear - burried in your hair, holding it so that it stayed looking at him.

The same position the two of you were in before.

He swiped his tongue out licking his lips, all the while staring into you with those eyes. And for a moment it seemed like you two were back in that club. He slowly pressed his face besides your's, taking your earlobe between his teeth. His gentle nibbling making it harder to suppress the shaking of your body.

After a while, he released your ear, only to whisper lowly. Hot breath blowing against it.

"Is that all you got?"

This is a bad, bad idea.

But without the alcohol this time you had nothing to blame but yourself as you pulled him closer, eager to get another taste.

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok #Indra #SnV Indra #RoR Indra #gn reader #x reader #oneshots #fanfiction #Nsfw-ish #Indra probably wheezes during sex #I said it #sue me

[citrusdarling7]

Tophelia (part 2)

summary- a smutty excerpt from my tom riddle x oc book, which you can find here (wattpad) or here (ao3)

warnings- smut, swearing, degrading, spoilers for My Riddle to Solve, shower sex

🗡--------------------------------------------—🗡

“Fine. Could I use your shower? The graveyard dirt is still caked to my skin, and there’s most definitely some blood on my hands.” Tom slumped down into one of his chairs and lit a cigarette.

“There’s spare towels under the sink, as well as unopened bars of soap,” he told me. I kicked off my boots and hung my coat next to his before heading into the bathroom. His was a lot larger than mine; one of the many benefits of being a Prefect. I stripped out of my dirty clothes and stepped under the hot water. My body let out a sigh of relief as the first stream of droplets hit my skin.

The brand of soap Tom had smelled like cedar and pine. It was a comforting scent, albeit a bit sharp. I was so distracted by my own thoughts that I didn’t notice the door open. Tom cleared his throat, causing me to jump. The shower curtain was pulled shut, so neither of us could really see each other.

“Tom, is something wrong? Did Adelaide wake up?” My voice was shaky, which he took in as a concern.

“Hanson is fine. May I join you?” My mind blanked for a moment. Was he really asking to shower with me? I didn’t care if he saw me naked, but this seemed strangely intimate.

“Alright.”

Riddle undressed himself quickly before peeling back the shower curtain and stepping inside. The lighting in the bathroom was dim, but I was still able to see his body in all of its glory. His chest muscles were intricately sculpted like those of a statue’s. The water from the showerhead trickled down him as he tilted his head backwards and sighed. Tom’s hands made their way to the sides of my hips.

“You’re very stressed. Tell me why,” he demanded in a soft voice.

“How could I not be? I just witnessed my best friend’s possession,” I scoffed. Tom abruptly pulled my body closer to his. His cock pressed against my stomach and his lips lowered to my neck. My eyelids fluttered shut as he began to kiss me gently.

“It’s something more than that. What’s on your mind?” His warm breath on my skin sent shivers down my spine.

“You don’t want to hear about my worries,” I said. Tom’s kisses trailed down to my clavicle as his fingers lightly traced my thighs.

“Mmh, I do. Indulge me with your thoughts.” His pace became more fervent, running his lips, teeth, and tongue across my collarbones.

“I-” my voice wavered at a sudden kiss against the nape of my neck. Tom’s lips were so warm and wonderful, driving me insane with every movement he made.

“Ophelia, be a good girl and talk to me.” The water from the shower head was being blocked by his figure, meaning that his hands and mouth were my only source of warmth. I wasn’t sure why Tom even cared about my worries, but as long as he was willing to keep kissing me, I was willing to divulge them.

“I’m worried. About Raymond, my cousin, the twins, Adelaide, and even you. Things have been different as of late.” The words tumbled past my lips in short breaths.

“What do you mean by that, my darling?” One of his hands snaked in between my thighs.

“Everything is just so hectic. I feel as if we are on the brink of war, concerning Grindelwald and his massive hordes of supporters. I want to protect everyone that I care about, but that is impossible seeing as I can barely protect myself.” Two fingers brushed against my core, causing my breath to hitch. Although Tom’s lips remained on my neck, I could practically feel him smirking.

“Keep talking. Tell me about your friends. Why are you worried for them?” Fingers stroked my folds slowly, eliciting me to tell him more.

“Raymond’s family is so hard on him, and his relationship with-” I almost let Abraxas’ name slip, my mind preoccupied with my current situation, “-Sarah is complicated to say the least. Adelaide is distant, Joslyn is constantly busy, and— fuck, do that again!” His thumb had pressed down onto my clit, causing pleasure to course through my legs and my back to arch against the wall.

“Tell me more, and I might let you come,” he offered with a delightful kiss beneath my jawline. My head fell back against the shower wall as one of his fingers entered me. Riddle was so damn good at this.

“My mother practically despises me, my father is completely corrupt, and the extended family thinks I am a disgrace,” I stuttered. His middle finger joined the first one, thrusting up inside of me with the perfect amount of pleasure as his thumb rubbed circles on my clit. Riddle’s wet curls tickled my neck as he kissed it.

“You take my fingers so well, don’t you?” I tried to speak, but all that came out of my mouth was a whimper. “Don’t stop now. You were being such a good girl for me,” he taunted.

“I- I hate feeling like I don’t- like I don’t know anything, and-” A particularly rough movement of his thumb left me gasping for breath. “Tom, I can’t-” The dark-haired boy tsked in amusement as his hand pulled away from my throbbing cunt.

“What a shame. I would have loved watching you climax around my hand.” He took a step backwards as I sighed in frustration.

“Please, Tom. You can’t just tease me like that,” I begged. He paid no attention to my pleas, opting to stand under the showerhead and act as if I didn’t exist. “Fine, I’ll just get myself off.”

I watched his shoulders stiffen at my suggestion. Riddle quickly spun around and pushed me against the shower wall. He debated the prospect for a moment, not sure if watching me touch myself would be worth allowing me to undermine him.

“You will do no such thing. I want to fuck you, on my bed this time. Would you like that, Ophelia?” I nodded, but that was not good enough for him. “Use your words.”

“Yes. I would.”

In what felt like a blur, Riddle waved his hand to turn off the shower, hoisted me up by the underside of my thighs, and carried me out of the bathroom. I was roughly tossed onto the bed, his fingernails leaving crescent-shaped marks on my skin. His duvet was made of a soft black fabric that felt like heaven against my body. The two of us were still sopping wet from the shower, but I suppose Tom didn’t care. He noticed my shivering and quickly conjured up a fire in his fireplace.

He kissed me feverently, his tongue pushing its way into my mouth as my hands grasped at his curls. Skin against skin, I wrapped a leg around his in an attempt to close the gap between us. Heat pooled in my stomach as his lips made their way to my left nipple, sucking at pulling at it with his teeth. His fingers began to play with the right one, causing me to cry out in pleasure.

His kisses trailed down my chest and stomach, continuing lower until he stopped to glance up at me.

“I want to taste your pretty cunt. Can you manage to stay quiet if I do so? Lestrange’s room is to the left of mine,” he warned. The others were without a doubt still awake, and they most definitely did not want to hear me chanting Riddle’s name like a prayer.

“I’ll try my best,” I promised him.

“Good girl. Lie back and let me take care of you.” Tom smirked and pressed a quick kiss against my cheek before moving to kneel in front of the bed. He tugged at my hips to slide me forwards before lifting my legs over his shoulders. He kissed at my inner thighs for a few moments, wanting to tease me as much as he could. The first stroke of his tongue set my entire body ablaze.

His mouth against my heat was quite possibly the most pleasurable thing I had ever experienced. Tom gripped my thighs tightly as he ran his tongue across my folds. I bit down on my lip in a fruitless attempt to silence the moans he was eliciting from me. Dark eyes stared up at me as teeth and tongue wrapped themselves around my clit. My hands desperately clung to the duvet as his wet curls tickled my skin. The sensations I was feeling were so incredibly overwhelming that my hips involuntarily twitched and my legs started to shake. Merlin, why hadn’t I gotten with Riddle sooner?

“Keep still,” he demanded, his words sending vibrations up my core. One of his hands pressed against my lower stomach as the other one warningly slapped my thigh.

“Tom. Don’t stop.” I was rapidly approaching my climax, and the boy currently knelt in front of me also knew that. He abruptly pulled away, causing me to let out a frustrated sigh. However, my disappointment was short-lived. Tom quickly joined me on his bed, positioning himself above me. His cock was so painfully hard that I could see a vein throbbing. Strong hands pinned my arms above my head as he pushed into me with a sudden thrust.

The pace Riddle set was one of extreme speed and intensity. He fucked me so well; the tip of his cock brushed against a sensitive spot inside of me with every movement. My moans and whimpers increased in volume, prompting him to release my arms and clamp one of his hands over my mouth.

“Such a slut for me, aren’t you darling?” Tom’s pupils were blown with lust and his lips were swollen from intense kisses. Every thrust had me clenching around him; I was once again nearing my high. Tom brought his mouth to mine, muffling my moans with a rough kiss. I came around him with a cry; eyes rolled back into my head as pleasure coursed through my veins.

As I came down from my climax, my hands tightly gripped Tom’s shoulders, nails digging into his pale skin. I was painfully sensitive, so much so that sharp pain mixed with every bit of pleasure I was receiving.

When Tom finally reached his orgasm, he buried his face in my neck and stroked the side of my hip with his fingers. His jugular vein tensed as he murmured a stream of praises and swear words. After a few moments of soft kisses and gentle touches, he pulled away from me and went to retrieve his clothes from the bathroom.

“You clearly had a lot of pent-up frustration,” Tom teased as he examined his upper back in the mirror, which was littered with hot red crescent-shaped nail marks. A few of them streaked down his skin in long scratches.

#tom riddle smut #tom riddle #smut oneshot #smut fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle fanfiction #hogwarts #harry potter smut #one shot