Tumgik
#but if you insist on sending another ask or two
pomefioredove · 21 hours
Note
sorry if you dont do platonic/kid reader posts but could you do headcannons of the dormleaders with a younger teen yuu (13-14) who had a bad homelife before and they see him as their older brother? like they come to his room crying and asking him to hold them? sorry if this doesnt make sence!! thank you and i love your work!! ^_^ <3
I very gladly do platonic and familial requests <3 I myself feel more platonic towards most of the characters ^_^
summary: housewardens adopting you as their younger sibling type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, kalim, vil, idia, malleus additional info: platonic, yuu is gender neutral
Tumblr media
𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬
believe it or not, Riddle is a pretty good brother
especially to someone from a home life similar to his
I suppose he recognizes it immediately; just sees pieces of himself in you
and I honestly believe he has a soft spot for younger people, even with his temperament
it's no secret that he favors you over everyone else
(even if he'd insist he treats everyone equally)
he lets you get away with things anyone else would be collared for
he pesters you about letting him help with your homework
you're invited to every Heartslabyul event
so on and so forth
and, much to everyone else's astonishment, he's always there for you to lean on
had bad day? failed an assignment? were being picked on? had a nightmare about your home?
well, that just can't do
he'll have you two freshly baked tarts and tea ready within minutes
and, of course, he'll gladly lend a hug if that's what you need
Tumblr media
𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫
it's no secret that Leona's home life isn't exactly dreamy, either
and his relationship with his brother isn't ideal
in fact, the very idea of having another sibling- especially a younger one- used to make him cringe
but... okay, he'll admit that you're alright
what? he's not heartless
and he just can't stand to see you struggling like a prey animal
so, sure, he'll take you under his wing
just until you get on your feet, that is! don't expect any special treatment from him just because he was feeling generous today
he's basically no help with anything practical
homework to do? not his thing
boy/girl trouble? don't you have any friends you could ask?
he'll give out advice when you need it, but Leona's got this idea that you need to figure things out for yourself, too
it's his strange way of... raising you?
(don't ask him why. he'll just get annoyed)
but if there's one thing he's really good at, it's providing that much-needed physical comfort
in his eyes, all he has to do is lie there
and he'll gladly give you a hug or a cuddle if it'll wipe that mopey look off your face
(don't listen to him; he really does worry sometimes)
Tumblr media
𝐀𝐳𝐮𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨
his first reaction to you and your closeness is "what do you want?"
not in a rude way, mind you; when you first meet, he sees you as an excellent business opportunity
after all, you're leagues behind everyone else in school matters; and he has a helping hand to offer.
at a price, of course
and then, as time goes on and it becomes more and more obvious that you're not looking for anything but company... well...
sure, you're all alone here
sure, you remind him way too much of himself at a younger age
but why is that his problem? haven't you heard what everyone else says about him? he's shady! untrustworthy!
and... oh, sevens. he just can't bring himself to turn you away
what was once a business venture turns into a friendship
best friend/brother Azul is insanely overprotective
even though he doesn't show it, he's constantly worrying; are the other students nice to you? are they including you? is everyone treating you fairly?
will send Jade and Floyd to keep an eye on you when he's extra anxious
it takes some time for him to adjust to the idea of you being able to take care of yourself
but, still...
he makes it clear that on those days, the ones where you feel like running and hiding from the world, his door is open
you can come hide with him, instead
free of charge, of course
Tumblr media
𝐊𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐥-𝐀𝐬𝐢𝐦
he adopts you immediately
literally just can't help himself; he sees you looking lost on your first day of classes and immediately takes you under his wing
Kalim already has a lot of younger siblings, he's used to this
anything you need, he's got it
hungry? he's already had snacks prepared
feeling homesick? he'll find you something to remind you of home
struggling with school? well... Jamil can help with that!
once word gets back to his family, they basically adopt you, too
no need to worry about having a home to go back to over breaks; his family has multiple!
he will never shut up about how great you are; literally introduces you to everyone as his younger sibling
treasures everything you give him and keeps it forever
and on your worst days, he's there for you then, too
as stated, Kalim has lots of younger siblings, he knows how it goes- and he makes a surprisingly good comforter
his hugs are always the best, too
Tumblr media
𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭
Vil already has a sort of motherly thing going on for him
he may be strict, but he's nurturing above all
and much like Kalim, he takes you under his care right away
you're still young, after all- and he knows you're not emotionally mature enough to handle all the chaos of NRC on your own
plus... well, he wants to leave an impression on you
after all, the sooner you start good habits, the likelier they'll stick
(he already has your skincare regimen ready)
it's the least he can do to help... you always seem very stressed, don't you? he wonders why that is
but he never pushes for answers, of course
he makes sure you're well acquainted with everyone from the dorm, too, so that everyone can keep an eye out for you
being Vil's favorite has its perks; soon, you're well-liked by anyone from Pomefiore
and friendly with most of them, too
(just don't let Epel influence you too much)
and Vil is always there; he makes plenty of time in his week just to speak to you
he wants to make sure you're adjusting well, after all
and any problems you have, he'll deal with personally
Tumblr media
𝐈𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝
it's more likely that Ortho bonded with you and took you in first
after all, you're closer in age than anyone else at school
you may even share a few interests!
but, of course, Idia's initial reaction was No. "Ortho, you can't just pick up random kids off the side of the road,"
...so to speak.
but somehow, you keep ending up in his dorm room to hang out
he avoids you at first, but the longer you're around, the more accumulated he'll become
when it gets to the point where he's teaching you how to play all his favorite games, it's so over for him
he's fallen right into Ortho's trap
much like Azul, Idia is a liiiittle overprotective
he's had some less than ideal experiences with siblings, after all
so maybe he's a little bit of a helicopter mom
that is, constantly watching you because he's deathly worried something's going to happen to you
(it takes a lot of convincing from Ortho before he relaxes a little)
and, of course, his doors are always open
he'll even pause his game if you come in looking upset
he just can't focus when you're all sad like that, see? now come inside and tell him what's wrong before he starts overthinking and goes into anxiety mode
Tumblr media
𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚
Malleus has had enough experience with children. according to himself, anyway
he was somewhat of a brother to Silver, and holds Sebek in... a slightly similar regard
but somehow, you're completely different
for one; you're magicless, and thus can't defend yourself like everyone else can
for another; you come from a different world
and you seem very reluctant on sharing details about your past
which just confuses Malleus. are you worried he will judge you for not having any magical abilities? surely, you must trust him better than that?
it's really Lilia who's able to guess that you had a rough home life. just something about the way you conduct yourself- he's seen it before
he asks Malleus to be gentle with you, and not to pry too much
which he seems to accept
much like the aforementioned, he's a little overprotective
okay, a lot overprotective
he holds those he views as family very close to him, and you're no exception
you're invited to every Diasomnia event, Silver and Lilia pitch in on all your tutoring needs, and no one would dare mess with the beloved younger sibling of Malleus Draconia
although he still makes an effort to understand all of your emotional needs
he gladly accepts all hugs and cuddles, too
196 notes · View notes
amysgiantbees · 6 hours
Text
Dead Boy Detectives Spoilers
I ADORE the Cat King and I'm really fascinated by him and I just love how detailed everything about him is.
A few thoughts on him...
I love that he's living at Empire fish company to harken to his royal status.
I adore the headcannon that he's Desire's child. Especially since their actor tweeted about it!
I'm presuming since he had to ask which boy put the spell on his cat that he can't see through his cat's eyes, they have to report back to him. And, knowing cats, they have to want to report back too. They don't just do it out of obligation. So, I'd like to think he's a pretty decent ruler which is nice.
I love that his loneliness is tied in to almost every interaction he has with Edwin. From insisting that he likes to keep things consensual then putting a spell that forces them to be closer. To watching out for/stalking Edwin with his cats. To forcing him to tell the truth but only a little bit in a kind of desperate attempt to get Edwin to see he cares about him and embraces him for who he is. Edwin calling him lonely really doesn't come from nowhere to humanize him which I love. It's great that even the minor character's motivations are well thought through in the show.
I'm also not saying any of this behaivour is okay though. It's creepy and pathetic. But there's a few factors that make me love the character and not just write him off as an incel light creep (not that you can't like characters that are bad people but I don't even see him as really a bad person). Firstly... he's hot. Enough said. Another way that makes me emphasize with him is just that his actor is SO charismatic. It really does make a difference that he's just SO fun to watch. Also, not that I've never been harassed by a queer guy before, but him being not straight does help beat the incel/total creep vibes in my mind. Also, the way that he will push a boundary but say or do something that softens what he's done helps too. Like saying he thinks consent is important, like only sending the cats to watch the boys when they're actively doing something dangerous, like ranting and raving in the woods that Edwin will regret this but instead continuing to try to protect him from Esther. I think he clearly cares enough about Edwin that if Edwin was REALLY that uninterested in him and uncomfortable he would of just have given him a different punishment too. Admittedly however, having good intentions or not being as bad as you could be does not stop something from being inappropriate obviously. But I do think it definitely helps.
I also am not particularly bothered by any potential creepiness from the Cat King as the way in interviews everyone talks about him is that he had a very specific role to play. He was made to be Edwin's sexual awakening. Yes he could have just been a guy that like always seems to be obliviously shirtless going on runs or something like that and it would have been less problematic. But, for one, I'm sure Edwin's seen that before and just looks away when it happens. Two, Edwin is SO repressed I think it makes a lot of narrative sense that he needs someone SO pushy and desperate in return to wake him up. I don't see this as condoning this behaivour because real people aren't deeply repressed Victorian ghosts that couldn't access therapy even if they wanted to on account of being dead. So I'm willing to look past some of his worst actions since he by the end is clearly growing and is fictional and fantastical.
Furthermore, as I'm sure many people have seen in recent popular discourses media does not need to be morally pure. I don't think that that should be a get out of jail free card either though. Or that creatives should be allowed to make whatever offensive shit they want and then say but "it's art" or "it's satire". Context matters. It's important how you frame something. And sure the Cat King is not punished for his bad behaivour but he is framed in such a way that I feel like he is not supported for it either. He doesn't get "rewarded" with Edwin in the end. He's not even guaranteed to have his company in even a platonic way since they're heading back to London and he, presumably, has to stay in his kingdom (he calls himself A cat king so I'm assuming there's others elsewhere so he probably can't go to London and intrude on another's territory unless maybe it's just that there's one and he's not the first and a new one will pop up after he dies dies).
I personally like the idea of the Cat King and Edwin going from antagonists, to friends to lovers because I like their dynamic because messiness is fun in fiction and I like Charles and Crystal together (although I do love Charles/Edwin and Niko/Crystal too). But that's just me. Or even I would love for them to become friends and not date, but for the Cat King to be a safe friend for Edwin to explore his sexuality with in a kind of situation-ship before eventually being endgame with Charles.
19 notes · View notes
ask-themilkman · 30 days
Text
"mm.. I've been getting a lot of asks. I'm going to have to close the box until the end of the week. I'm sorry everyone. I've been getting so many orders as well, a lot of people are specifying to the website that they especially want me to deliver it. If there is something really important you need to tell me that can't wait until weekend, the box will be open for another.. mm.. 10 hours, give or take. I will be off to sleep for now. Goodbye."
Tumblr media
28 notes · View notes
stsgooo · 5 months
Text
Look at Him.
Tumblr media
✩࿐ summary: your attempts at reentering the dating scene is foiled by your ex-husband.
warning(s): past relationship, clingy!gojo, ex-husband!gojo, co-parenting situation, crack fic. wc; 1.6k
pairing(s): gojo satoru x fem!reader
a/n: this is purely just a goof fic because i've put nothing but angst out there so far sooo have a laugh. hope yall enjoy :3
Tumblr media
“So, what do you do for a living?”
"A teacher."
"Oh, wow! What grade, subject?"
"Uh, highschoolers and the subject kinda varies on the day."
"Like a substitute teacher?"
"Um....sure, yeah! Substitute teacher."
"That's awesome. Mad respect, kids can be demons."
You were quickly discovering that the dating field had changed in the five years that you had been married. An endless back and forth about what someone did, what's their favorite color, what's their hobbies. Boring questions that you would ask your students on the first day was used in over the table date conversation. Until, until, they got to that question they so desperately wanted to ask.
Would you want to take this back to my—
There was a vibration against your thigh as your date started to go onto a monologue about how much he disliked kids. In all honesty, you couldn't really remember his name. The introductions had been awkward and a little nerve wracking— you were almost sure he had no idea who you were either.
You tugged your phone out of your pocket and resisted the audible sigh that threatened to leave you when you saw the notification.
Satoru please tell me why my beautiful, radiant, amazing, intelligent daughter just said her mommy is on a date. feeling sick to my stomach, don't tell me this is true.
You rolled your eyes. Your ex-husband had always been so overdramatic. His main focus was always on the bit that could come from a situation. However, this was a quality you do used to admire about him. His ability to make any situation seem like it was a funny happenstance that you'd never encounter again.
Now, it was nothing more than a nuisance.
Satoru oh my god, you left me on read. it's true. it's true. i hope you know i just threw up. i threw up everywhere. i might die. at least, tell me he's ugly. please god let him to be ugly.
A sigh, you typed out the quickest message you could without your date asking what's wrong.
You I hope you're not ignoring said daughter to ask me about some date. I'll be home later, please refrain from texting me.
You were about to set your phone down when another text came through. This one appeared to more distraught than the last.
Satoru o h your tone. it's over. it's really over. i might just kill myself this is the worst night of my life. y/n, i'm genuinely feeling sick. please, is he ugly? he must be boring because you're texting back.
You were almost inclined to remind Satoru you both had been divorced for a year already. That this was bound to happen and you two had, in fact, spoken about it months into the divorce. You had played with some 'what if's and there was a mutual agreement that the other wouldn't get jealous and be dramatic about the other getting in a relationship whenever the time comes. It was a surprisingly adult conversation.
You should've known better when Satoru proudly proclaimed he didn't care who you got involved with.
You Satoru, we talked about this. We're adults and we're divorced. Please bother someone else, like Suguru.
Satoru i don't wanna talk to suguru. i wanna talk to youuu (;﹏;) i can't believe you've done this. ten years. ten years of loyalty. im sick to my stomach.
You You asked for the divorce.
"Is everything okay?"
You eyes snapped up from your phone and towards your date. He had the good grace to be wearing a relatively concerned expression, eyeing you wearily.
You quickly tucked your phone back into your pocket, ignoring the insistent vibrations it gave to smile apologetically. "I'm sorry, my daughter had an accident and I had to, you know, send a quick text to her babysitter." It was easier to explain away a daughter than it was a clingy ex-husband who was well in his dissent into insanity. Really, you were doing this guy a favor keeping him in the dark.
However, his face still paled and he straightened. "You have a kidI'm so, so sorry. I just went on a two minute rant about how much kids are equivalent to demons." He seemed to spiral as he pressed his hands against his face, uttering curses to himself. "I get so nervous with these dates. I truly meant nothing by it."
You smiled in amusement, "It's no problem, really. I'm not exactly disagreeing." He peeked from between his fingers and blinked at you dumbly. "Just because I'm a parent doesn't mean I don't agree. I mean, my kid can be a bit much sometimes. I love her, but she's a lot like her dad in that way."
It always made your chest blossom. The way Saori was a carbon copy of Satoru. From the rambunctious personality, to the piercing blue eyes, and white hair. Your genes hadn't won in the battle, but you were almost grateful. Satoru tried to tell you that she had your smile and your wit, but you weren't entirely convinced. She was Satoru and Satoru was her.
You were extremely lucky that he was a good dad.
"Oh? Do you mind me asking if her dad's still around?" His tone was indication enough: a daughter and an ex of some kind was pushing it for him.
You tensed up, feeling deep regret already. "Uh, yeah." His eyes shifted away and you reached forward, taking his hand. "But, he's not, like, crazy or anything! He's just a good dad."
Your date chuckled nervously. "I-I just don't want to get involved in some, um, some family dynamic."
You thought it was a little presumptuous of him to think this would go that far, or he'd get in the way. But you were too focused on defusing the situation.
"Oh, no, it's not like that! We've got a healthy balance, y'know? He does his piece, I do mine— that's it!"
He scrunched his face. "So... an open relationship?"
"No!" You press your hands against your face with a huff. "No, we're not together anymore. We just co-parent."
He opened his mouth to further question you when your phone vibrated very audibly. His eyebrows raising. "Your daughter?"
You sighed. "Please give me one moment."
With jerky movements, you pull your phone from your pocket. The assortment of messages that came where spread over the ten minutes you decided to ignore him.
Satoru okay, you've got me there. but my big heart is breaking. i hope he's ugly and he smells. okay, i spoke with suguru and he said i'm an idiot who should apologize. in my defense, i'm a little itty bitty drunk. and no, saori is not awake. papa put her to bed before bringing out the whiskey. im so sorry my beautiful deity. that not ugly, not smelly man is so lucky to be in your presence and i hope you have a good date. also i hope he gets hit my a car. (^▽^)
You I'm going to kill you with my bare hands. Genuinely, count your days, Gojo Satoru.
Satoru hot, hot, hot!!! (●´□`)♡ did he actually get hit by a car?
You Is there something you want?
Satoru him dead. and you home :((((
You You don't want me home. I swear to god, if you're on my couch, drinking when I get home, I will ruin your life.
Satoru promise??? ╰(✿´⌣`✿)╯♡ but, actually, i wanted to ask your opinion on something
You For real?
Satoru for realsies. [Image Attachment]
Completely blinded by your irritation, you don't even hesitate to open the picture as it loads. Although you regret it the moment it does.
It's a picture of Satoru. He's at what seems to be the beach (must've been the fun activity him and Saori were going to join Suguru for), his sunglasses were on the top of his head, and he was grinning at the picture. One hand was resting against his pectoral and the veins in his hand was prominent. An obvious attempt at being charming and flirtatious. It was working too.
If it weren't for the fact that you knew him and were his ex, you might've just swooned.
"Oh, my god, is that him?" Your date was staring at your phone with wide eyes. His face even more pale than before. He started to shake his head as he stood, snatching his jacket from the back of his chair. "No way. I am not getting involved! I'm sorry, you're a nice woman, but I know when I'm not winning. And I'm definitely not winning against that."
Your eyes widened considerably, "What? No! Please don't leave. He's an idiot, I swear there's nothing—"
"He is... a hunk. I am not. In no shape or form am I at all comparable to that. Look—" He reached forward, grabbing your phone and holding the picture up to be beside his face. "Look at the difference! Model who has won Japan's hottest man at least eight times before he's 30 to me— Look at him!"
"It's not even like that!" You snatched your phone back and stared at him in frustration. "He's my ex, I do not want him!"
He waved his hands in front of your face. "I know how this will go. You think you like me and then your super hot and super sexy ex-whatever makes you realize the familiarity is good. Then I get dumped." He straightened, latching his hands onto the lapels of his jacket. "I just realized I am a side character. In my own life. Goddammit."
He barely glanced at you as he paid for the dinner, then left as quickly as he could. Still, you didn't even know his name.
Satoru oooo taking you awhile to respondddd still in love with me? (人◕ω◕)
3K notes · View notes
signedkoko · 3 months
Note
Could I get a Mammon, Vox and Husk with a S/O who gets harassed on the street and their reaction? You can have full creative control over what type of harassment!
I love your fics- if this isn’t getting the creative juices flowing just let me know and I’ll request something different <3
🦷 anon
Husk | Mammon | Vox [Romantic]
In which some loathsome idiot thinks they'll get away with harassing their beloved s/o.
Tumblr media
One of your favourite date nights is spent bar hopping
Pop a drink or two in each one, sometimes sharing one cocktail, his wing draped around you, your head leant on his shoulder, humming to the music surrounding you
Both of you had a preference for the less popular spots, the kinds of places you got the weirdest combinations, where he could be inspired and you could give him thoughts
The plus side of the smaller joints was that the music was never too loud, drinks were cheaper, and there was always a few spots free at the bar
Downside was that most places had their regulars, the kind of people who couldn't get in anywhere else
The kind of desperation that builds and spreads like mold in the corner of a dark room next to a leaky pipe
On a few occasions, someone would harmlessly ask to buy you a drink and would turn tail when Husk gave them his usually 'fuck off' look
But this time, the guy would just not get the hint
" What? Already claimed dibs on the bitch? "
Yeah- no, that attitude towards you is not going to fly
Not even three seconds and there's a bottle smashed on the drunk demons head, and three cards flying back into Husk's hand
That's when the bleeding starts
You slap a 20 down for your bill and jump straight up, already being dragged by Husk out the door
Insists if he stayed there you would have both gotten banned anyways, and he likes that spot
Tumblr media
You guys don't really go out so casually without a good reason, or just for old times sake
A sin and his spouse on a city street in greed was just asking for bad things to happen
But still, if you asked and he had nothing that day, Mammon would always rather get quality time with you and people watch
Thats most of your conversation, pointing out demons and joking about what you think they are like, what the do, how they speak
It's always a fun game, until some newcomer saw you laughing at him and marched right up, clearly on something and clearly ready to have a go at someone
The moment he reaches for your wrist, his thumb falls to the floor, a messy and jagged cut the only sign of attack besides one of Mammons spider legs now revealed
Before he can even realize the pain or what's happened, Mammon lets out a menacing laugh
" Every extra inch towards my broad is another finger. "
That demon was already screaming and running away, most the crowd on the street that was watching now hurrying in any direction opposite of you and Mammon
" I'm only worth one finger? "
" Nah. Just being generous for once. "
Tumblr media
Not really a street guy, but unfortunately some press conferences and events require mingling and interacting with others, which he never liked
Thankfully, with you he has an excuse to stay away from others, or show you off
He usually goes for the latter
He's all 'Have you met my wife?' 'My wife loves x and y!' 'Isn't my wife absolutely gorgeous?'
You are the first topic he speaks of after his company; you'd be the first if he didn't have to waste so much time being a salesman, but that is how the cookie crumbles
Sometimes when there's specific press releases, he has to send you off for a moment, where you usually go and mingle with some of the others in his industry you befriended
During one such interview, he couldn't help but spot out the corner of his eye, some lousy business woman drape her arm around your waist and grab at your hip
" Sorry yeah, this interview is over. "
Literally shoves his way over, sparks and electricity flying, to rip you out of her arms
" Baaabe, is this a friend? Whatever the case, we really gotta get going! "
Jealousy 3000
He's glad he stepped in after he overhears that lady had a habit of harassing other attendees
New clause in every interview; they have to include you or provide security over you while he is busy
Tumblr media
Author's Note - Tooth anon comes in for another PIPIN HOT request!! I actually feel so bad because every time I take a break form writing is on yoru request and that really makes it look bad I am so sorry 😩
2K notes · View notes
ddejavvu · 8 months
Note
Hi, i hope youre doing well ☺️
Could i request another part to animagus cat reader where reader cuddles with Remus during winter instead of Sirius because its cold and he runs warmer?? Like he'll be in the common room reading in an arm chair while reader catnaps on his lap while being pet and Sirius tells him to stop stealing his gf and James is jealous/whiny that he doesnt get to have cat snuggles.
part 1 / part 2
--
Despite the two blankets layered in an inviting nest on Sirius's lap, Remus is the warmest person in the room. The fire crackes on its logs, offering scorching heat, but what you seek is gentle warmth, and you've found it between Remus's sweater and his undershirt. You're splayed over his chest much like a baby would be, your paws stretched out against his shoulders and your head pressed face-first into his chest. His sweater is tight enough that it holds you in place, and you don't have to worry about falling. It means that you're able to fully relax, and Sirius can hear your rampant purring from where he sits on the couch with a sour scowl on his face.
"If you just wore warmer clothes, you wouldn't be pissy right now," Remus muses, not bothering to grace the man with a glance away from his novel, "She only likes me 'cause my sweater is warm."
That's not entirely true. While Remus does tend to dress for comfort, and Sirius for style, Remus runs naturally hotter than your boyfriend. You don't have the heart to tell him that, though, so you mewl in agreement to Remus's statement.
"Sweaters are dumb," Sirius spits, and no one bothers to mention that he has a small collection of them for the snowy days on the grounds, "I look better in leather."
"Your loss," Remus shrugs, and to add insult to injury, reaches up to scratch a spot behind your ears that only makes your purring louder.
"This is bullshit," Sirius finally huffs, breaking his facade of gloomy indifference, "Prongs, get over here."
James, all too eager to help out his friend and soak up affection to boot, has no problem tipping over sideways to lay in Sirius's lap.
But the man lifts James's head out of his lap by his curls, "No, no, no, not James. Prongs."
"You want me to-?" James asks, but doesn't dare finish, because the prospect of transforming right in the common room sends a shiver of mischief down his spine that he'd be a fool to question, "On it."
"Yeah. Yeah, yeah," Sirius nods, sneering haughtily at Remus, "You're not the only one that's good for a cuddle, Moony. Look at this," He gushes, as James begins his transformation, skin giving way to tight, short fur and enormous antlers that nearly grate against the stone walls around you.
"Oh, he's a perfect fit." Remus nods resignedly, content to continue rubbing at your ears rather than chastise his friends for trying to fit a stag on a loveseat, "Yeah, that'll work nicely- ooh, careful Sirius, almost got stabbed there."
Sirius dodges a prong off of James's antlers, taking them in his hands and holding James's head steady as the oversized buck folds his knobbly knees into Sirius's lap. The back two can't make it, but James fits them clumsily onto the cushion, maintaining his balance out of dramatic willpower rather than the laws of physics.
You decide once they settle that they're no longer in need of your attention, so you turn your head back towards Remus and burrow your face back into his warm chest. You feel it shake with mirth beneath you, presumably at an overdramatized reaction from the two boys opposite you, but you can't bring yourself to care; sleep is at the forefront of your brain in this form.
"Yeah, get real cozy!" Sirius insists, calling so that you can hear him through Remus's thick sweater and beneath the weight of his hand on your ears, "Whatever! We're cozy over here, too, 'never been more comfortable- ah! Prongs, watch the hooves!"
4K notes · View notes
mariespen · 3 months
Text
I know ⋆ ゚꒰⚘݄꒱₊
Tumblr media
dad!rafe cameron x mom!reader ₊✩ˎˊ˗ summary: your eldest daughter, Ellie, gets into a fight at school. warnings: mention of slight injury
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
You checked the time on the kitchen clock, looking over your shoulder and making sure that you were on schedule. You needed to leave to pick up your two kids from school by 3:25 to avoid traffic. You wanted to go shopping before picking them up because your oldest, Ellie, needed some new winter clothes. No one told you that picking up your kids would need this much planning, even after your husband insisted on sending them to a prestigious private school.
Speaking of your husband, at 1:15 he pulled into the garage. You rolled your eyes, only half annoyed.
“Hi, baby.” He said with a smile, walking into the house with his dress clothes, straight from work.
“Late lunch?” You asked as he came up to you, holding your hips and pulling you closer to him.
“Just left early.” He said, grinning and kissing you gently.
“Rafe..” You said, kissing him back.
Your husband, Rafe Cameron, was the CEO of Cameron Enterprises, so he was pretty lenient with his duties. The surprise visits had gotten more common after he hired a new assistant, which freed him up time to be with his wife and two girls. 
His body towered over you as he kissed your neck and down to your shoulder, his hands moving to grab your ass. 
“So perfect..” He mumbled the compliment, burying his head in the crook of your neck.
“Baby.. I gotta get to the shops. Ellie needs a new coat.” You said, pulling away and looking up at him with a sad smile.
“I’ll go with you.” He announced, setting his briefcase and coat down on the kitchen island before walking to the door.
You giggled, grabbing your purse and the keys to your white Porsche SUV. Rafe waited for you at the door, smiling and holding it open for you as you walked out. He gave you a look as you got into the driver's seat, hesitantly sliding into the passenger’s seat beside you. You rolled your eyes playfully and started the car, driving off.
About 15 minutes later, you turned into a small outlet mall. Putting the car into park, the two of you got out. He started to walk to the more designer stores and you rolled your eyes.
“Rafe, she’s 11. The last thing she needs is designer.” You said with a giggle, pulling his arm to an Urban Outfitters. Rafe looked at you, a confused frown on his face as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. After picking out a nice coat to keep her warm enough, the two of you started to walk back to the car. You looked around, seeing a small cafe and looking at Rafe with doe eyes. He looked at you expectantly, smiling at your face.
“Rafe can we-“ You started, interrupted by Rafe intertwining his fingers with yours.
“Of course, m’lady.” He said, smiling and kissing the top of your head as the two of you walked.
Your phone rang from your purse and you stopped, confused. Your personal phone doesn’t normally ring unless it was Rafe or your girls and your face knitted with concern as you rummaged for it. After pulling it out, you saw that it was the school. You frowned, looking back at Rafe’s equally confused expression.
“One second..” You mumbled, picking it up.
Your eyes shot up when the administrator requested your presence at the school office.
“Why? What happened?” You asked and Rafe leaned down, trying to hear as much of the conversation that he could through your phone.
“Ellie had an.. incident with a boy in her grade.” The woman on the phone said cautiously.
“Is she okay? What happened?” You repeated, worry and anxiety growing in your chest for your eldest daughter.
“Mrs. Cameron, Ellie got into a physical altercation with another boy in her class.” Rafe looked at you with an equal, but more subtle, amount of worry. 
“I’ll be right there, thank you.” You said quietly, hanging up the phone.
“What? What happened?” Rafe asked and you turned around, heading away from the cafe and back to the car with him close on your heels.
“Ellie got into a fight, they want us there.” You said, your breathing picking up.
Rafe held your hand, trying to sooth your incoming panic. He was still a bit confused, but he took the keys from you and opened the passenger side door, insisting that he would drive the two of you back.
“What did they say?” He asked, his eyes flicking back from you to the road every so often.
“She got into a ‘physical altercation with a boy in her grade.’” You said, quoting it directly with a lightly mocking tone.
Rafe’s face was still serious, but his facade was cracking with his concern for Ellie.
The two of you pulled up to the school about an hour before the final bell would ring. Rafe walked in first, storming into the office, preparing to demand answers. His face dropped when he saw his precious girl with a bloody nose and blossoming black eye. Your gaze followed his and you gasped, beating him to Ellie.
“Baby what happened?” You asked, touching her eye gently as she winced.
“Who did this, Ellie?” Rafe’s booming voice asked from behind you, his expression deep with anger.
You watched your daughter’s eyes glare across the room. You turned, seeing a young boy with an ice pack to his head, his condition significantly worse than hers. You looked at her, eyes wide. Rafe sprung up, demanding answers right as the woman you spoke to on the phone came out of the principal’s office. 
“Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Cameron.” She said, showing you to the principal’s office. You left a quick kiss on Ellie’s cheek before walking behind Rafe and entering the small room.
“Thank you for coming, Mr. and Mrs. Cameron.” The principal said, his face pale at the sight of your husband’s outrage.
“What the fuck happened?” Rafe asked, nearly yelling. You put a warning hand on his knee, silently telling him to take it down a notch. Naturally, he eyed you with a quiet ‘no.’
“According to the witnesses, Ellie started a fight with a young boy in her class during lunch.” The principal said with a sigh, shuffling a few pages of paperwork to the top of a stack.
“That can’t be the full story.” You said, leaning forward, as if to urge him on.
“That’s the part that I need to look at. Unfortunately, there are some severe consequences for this-“ You rolled your eyes, listening to him talk before Rafe got up suddenly, leaving the office.
You started to hesitantly stand up after him, sitting back down and trying to stay calm. You watched the door as it opened again, Rafe walking back in with Ellie’s hand in his.
“Let’s hear the full story.” Rafe said, gesturing for Ellie to sit in the seat that he was in previously as he resumed a stance at the door of the closed office.
You looked at your daughter, putting a gentle hand on her leg as you waited for her to start explaining. Her gaze met the principal’s, staring him down.
“Gabe said that my mom was a gold digger and that she doesn’t really love my dad.” Ellie said, her little voice raising as she continued, “And I told him to shut up and he said ‘do something about it.’ So I did.” She finished with her arms crossed.
God, she had so much of Rafe’s attitude that it almost made you wince.
You were astonished, your mouth wide. Rafe was quiet at the door and you didn’t make eye contact with him, not wanting to see how this would turn out.
“What?” You asked her, looking at Ellie and then the principal, “Did she tell you this?” 
“I did!” Ellie interrupted and you gave her a knowing look and she slumped back into her chair.
You heard Rafe moving closer to the desk and you looked up at him as he stood behind you. His face was red with anger as he looked at the principal.
“What consequences will you have for him, huh?” He asked, his stance intimidating as the principal collected himself while Rafe kept going, “My kid got beat up too, what’s going to happen about that?” He said, pointing to the blood drying on Ellie’s nose.
Ellie nodded, her little arms still crossed. Rafe shifted so he was between you and your daughter. The three of you looked at the principal expectantly.
“From what we know as of right now, Gabe was simply defending himself-“ “Bullshit!” Ellie interrupted and you looked at her, warning her to be more careful. Of course, Rafe nodded along with her.
“We will review the classroom footage and determine an appropriate punishment.” The principal stated, eager to get this over with. Rafe scoffed, rolling his eyes.
“I will give you a call. Thank you.” He said and Rafe helped you up and out of your chair.
His arm protectively wrapped around Ellie and the three of you walked out without another word. When you passed through the office, you could see both Rafe and Ellie staring daggers into the little boy, still holding an ice pack to his head. Rafe’s protective hold on Ellie didn’t let up until he opened the door for her to get into the car, opening yours as well. He got into the driver's seat and you sat quietly, knowing one of them would say something soon.
Without a word, Rafe turned and looked back at your daughter who was fidgeting nervously. He smiled slightly, holding his hand up for a high-five. You rolled your eyes playfully, watching as her face lit up and she high-fived him without hesitation.
“Rafe!” You said, trying to stifle your smile.
“What?” He said, putting his hands up in surrender. He put the car in drive as Ellie smiled to herself.
“Ellie, you shouldn’t get into fights at school. Especially not over dumb things like that.” You said, trying to sound serious and stern.
“Mom, that's not fair!” Ellie said, looking at you with pleading eyes.
“Your mom’s right, Ellie.” Rafe said, knowing you desperately needed backup. You listened expectantly, waiting for him to continue, but he didn’t. He offered you a shrug and kept driving the way back to the house.
You got out, watching as Rafe opened Ellie’s door and picked her up, grabbing her backpack. You smiled, walking ahead of them.
“Just like your dad.” You heard Rafe say quietly to Ellie, hearing another high-five between the two of them.
You rolled your eyes, giggling at Ellie’s prideful smile. 
“Go get changed, love.” You told her as Rafe sat her down.
She went upstairs to her room and you looked at Rafe, watching him try incredibly hard to stop himself from smiling.
“She’s too much like you.” You said with a huff, trying to play off your smile once he breaks and starts laughing.
“Looks like we’re raising them right.” Rafe said, kissing you softly. You rolled your eyes as you felt him smile into the kiss.
“I love you.” You said, your fingers tracing his cheekbone.
“I know.” He said, kissing you again and then pulling away with another breath, “I love you too, pretty lady.”
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
1K notes · View notes
luveline · 2 months
Note
could you pleaseee do more hotch x bombshell reader
cw suggestive —you and Hotch have a shared secret you’re hiding from the rest of the team. fem, 1k
“He’s too old for you, you know.” 
You give Elle a charmed smile. “He is not.” 
“Is too.” 
“How old do you think I am, Greenaway?” you tease. “I know I look good for my age, but I’m fully developed. He is not too old for me.” 
“Who?” Spencer asks, placing down his dinner tray with a smile. 
“Gideon,” you say. “What do you think, babe, do I have a chance with our great leader?” 
“No,” Spencer says, giggling as he spears a dehydrated looking green bean with his fork. He’s getting good at recognising jokes for what they are. 
As the younger (but, despite Elle’s insistence, not young) crowd, you have complimentary avoiding of work to do, free with your employment. You spend your lunch hour trying to stretch it into two, driving Gideon insane, and prompting Hotch to come and find you. He hasn’t appeared yet, but when you check your watch you’ve got about ten minutes left until you need to get back. 
“The line was so long,” Spencer says. “They could reduce the foot traffic in here by half if they had two people working the register.” 
“Maybe if we had our own offices we could eat our lunch alone from a brown paper bag like everybody else does, and we wouldn’t need to line up,” Elle says wryly. 
“You don’t like lining up like middle schoolers?” you ask in feigned shock. 
“I don’t,” Spencer says earnestly. 
“She’s being sarcastic,” Elle says. “You couldn’t tell?” She looks over your shoulder suddenly, but there’s a velvet voice in your ear before you can turn around.
“Can I borrow you?” 
You smile because he can’t see it. “That depends, Agent Hotchner, will I get to finish my lunch?” 
You don’t have a tray in front of you. It clearly doesn’t matter to Hotch. “I’ll take care of it.” 
You’d let him drag you around by the collar, but that’s none of his business. You turn to meet his eyes over your shoulder, disappointed that he’s already a few steps back waiting for you to stand up. 
What Elle doesn’t get, what nobody seems to see but you, is that Hotch had no need to lean in and talk so close to your ear. He could have sent you an email, paged you, and he’s here in the cafeteria waiting for you to follow him out. 
You send both Elle and Spencer a suggestive look and climb off of the bench. Hotch senses when you’re near rather than looking, starting out of the cafeteria and down the hall to the elevator bank. He does a sharp turn you aren’t expecting to the photocopying rooms, where you refuse to go, lest you get killed by a falling stack of printer paper. One minute you’re walking together and the next he’s taken your hand and pulling you into an alcove, suddenly sliding his hand behind your back. 
“Aaron–”
He dips his face down and kisses you. It’s surprising and not, one slight nipping kiss before he looks you in the eyes. He’s asking if you’re alright to be kissed, and if it’s him, he can shove you up against a wall —you lift your head and he pulls you right back up to be kissed again. His hands slide over the tight fabric of your blazer and hold you chest to chest, his nose crushing yours, his lips unwavering. Pinpricks of heat ricochet from your mouth to your neck, a shudder he feels that has him laughing hot against your lips.
“That’s not very gentlemanly,” you say, weaving your fingers into the soft crop of hair behind his ears. 
“I’m sorry,” he says. He lifts his hand, cleaning the smudge of your lipstick with his pinky finger, before stroking your cheek with his knuckle.  “What sort of note was that, this afternoon? Why do you think that’s alright to leave at my desk?” 
“How’d you know it was me?” you ask, dropping your hands from his hair to poke at his waist. 
“I hoped it was you,” he admits. He looks like he might say something else, but he steals a rough kiss instead, and then another. 
“Okay,” you say, pleased to be kissed like this by him, “it was me. And you deserved it.” 
“Did I?” He takes your face into two hands. “Did I?” 
You stutter momentarily at his repeated question. “You– yeah, Hotchner, you did. It was supposed to be nice, like a promise.” 
“Are you promising?” he asks, giving your cheek a sweet, gentle stroke with his thumb. 
You kiss his nice jaw, ruffle the hair that curls over his forehead playfully, and laugh as he catches your hand. He doesn’t grab. Hotch isn’t ever aggressive with you (though he can get a little excited). 
“Decide what you want for dinner tonight, and we’ll go after work,” he says, returning your hand gently to your side. 
“Another kiss?” you ask. 
Hotch kisses you sweetly. “Come on, honey, lunch is over.” 
“Just one more?” you ask. 
He falls for it every time. You must harvest half a dozen extra kisses, incensed because it’s him, because nobody thought for a minute he’d bend to your whims. 
Hotch doesn’t bend. He just wants you like you want him. 
“One more,” he says as you pull away. “Just one.” 
It tickles your lips. You curl your arms behind his neck and try to make it one that’ll linger, your fingers scratching lightly at his scalp as he presses your back to the cold wall. You yelp a laugh and he covers your back with big hands, mumbling a sorry that gets completely lost. 
You don’t know how he’s going to explain this to Gideon. 
1K notes · View notes
Text
Thinking about baby daddy!Miguel O’Hara that starts to invite you over to do activities more often during his weeks with Gabriella, saying it would be good to show your daughter that you both still had a good relationship with each other. Which struck you as odd since you two genuinely have always gotten along anyways but you decided to ignore it and brush it off.
Baby Daddy!Miguel who invites you over to his place on a hot summer day, saying that he’s having a pool party with a bunch of your friends. Insisting you bring the guy you’ve been talking to so he can finally meet him and totally doesn’t want him there to prove to him that he’s not worth your time.
Baby Daddy!Miguel who can’t keep his eyes off you when you come out to the backyard after having changed into his favorite a bikini, asking Mj to help you apply sunscreen on your back. Wishing it was his hands rubbing it into your skin instead.
Baby Daddy!Miguel who rolled his eyes when your not-boyfriend-but-more-then-a-talking-stage guy finally arrived over three hours late with the wrong type of beer, seeing him come in with a pack of Bud Light when Miguel was strictly a Modelo man. “Accidentally” squeezing his hand a bit too tight when he shakes it.
Baby Daddy!Miguel who made sure to keep telling stories about you two from your time together, not sparing any details as he and all the guys/dads gathered around the grill while Miguel turned over the carne asada y Pollo asado he was grilling. Not even caring about the looks your new boy toy would throw at him. His best friend Peter and his brother Gabriel both shooting each other a knowing look.
Baby Daddy!Miguel who took the aux from Peter and switched the music over to his spanish playlist, totally not on purpose starting off with the song Que Malo from Bad Bunny, then immediately after the playlist start to play Eres Mía from Romeo Santos, you didn’t even have time to think about the song choices before Miguel dragged you over to dance per your daughter’s request.
“I’m sorry Peter, but if I have to hear you play it wasn’t me from shaggy again, I’ll lose it.” Miguel exasperated as he unplugged his friend's phone mid song, earning a protest from Peter, but Miguel just shook his head as he plugged his own phone. “You’ve placed that song at every function since we were 18.”
You couldn’t help but let out a small squeal of excitement as Bad Bunny took over the backyard. Singing along to the song as you pass around another round of drinks to the guys at the grill, completely oblivious to the subliminal message that Miguel was sending you as you recited Ñengo Flows part. A new modelo in each one of the guy’s hands (well except your talking stage, he had a Bud light), it seems that your new little friend didn’t seem to understand a lick of Spanish, the message of the song completely flying over his head as he nodded along to the beat mindlessly.
Once the song ended, the new one played, Eres Mía, your brows scrunched a bit at the sudden genre changing. You were in the middle of crossing the grass lawn to where Miguel’s phone was sitting next to the speaker to change it, when you suddenly felt the small fingers of your daughter’s hand dragging you back.
“Mami! Ma! Baile con Papi! I love it when you two dance to these songs.” She begged, you usually wouldn’t mind doing so when she asked you too, but since the guy you were talking to was here, it would feel awkward if he watched you dance something as intimate as bachata with your ex. (Mommy ! Mom! Dance with dad!)
“I-I don’t know Gabi-“ You started, once you finally stopped in front of Miguel, your face filled with a bit of confusion on what to do. Miguel noticed and waved his hand as if reassuring you it’s no big deal.
“He won’t care, right bud?” He said as he nodded towards your guest, but before he could say an answer Miguel’s hands were already wrapped around the small of your back, as he started to guide you through the dance.
You just decided to go along with it, it’s not a big deal right? It’s only one dance.
Part 2<
Part 4<
Not proofread.
Word count: 700
Taglist: @ginnysculture @mishaglass @wusyanamee @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @bunnibitez @miguelzslvtz @migueloharastruelove @dahehow @sinners-98-world @othersideoftheparadise @toyfortoji @yeshajane @yvesbi
(If you Would like to be added pls say so, I’m sorry if I missed anyone lmk if I did!)
1K notes · View notes
werecreature-addicted · 5 months
Note
Werewolf bf sulking because he loves you you look in lingerie. But the problem is he loves it too much - it just never stays on long enough for him to fully appreciate you because you just look so good he can't help himself but devour you then and there. He would ask you to model it again for him after, but all that will accomplish is another round
Werewolf boyfriend who is condemned to torture (not being able to see you in sexy panties) You can send him nudes and videos of you in your lingerie teasing him from afar. but he never gets to see it in real life, the second he sees that pretty lace or soft satin flush against your skin he starts drooling and he just needs to get you naked and on his cock.
He always digs his claws into you when you two have sex so it's natural that they're already out, he tries to be delicate but things always end the same, with your pretty panties in shreds on the floor and your boyfriend's balls deep.
He insists that you give him a little fashion show after he's calmed down and cum inside of you. surely if he's too spent to go again so soon, and he really does want to see what lingerie you bought.
You pull up the shredded clothes and awkwardly hold the fabric scraps to your body. Somehow it's much much worse. The slivers of skin he can see through the rips make his brain short-circuit. And he's back on you.
You can try crotchless panties, but with his newfound love of ripped clothes, he might shed your lingerie even if he doesn't technically need to.
1K notes · View notes
dyaz-stories · 5 months
Text
stars around my scars || Cha Hyun-Su x Reader
Tumblr media
word count: 1.2k
warnings & tags: so soft, fluff, angst because it's sweet home, hurt/comfort, kissing, touch-starved!hyun-su, a little suggestive but it's not too bad, hyun-su needs a hug and he gets that and more eheh
previous one-shot · next part
A/N: this can be read on its own or read as a part of the little hyun-su x reader series i've got going on at the moment! no particular context needed for this one, but i wrote it in like two hours so i hope you'll enjoy it.
Tumblr media
Hyun-Su sits at your table like he’s not sure he has the right to be there. He’s been less cautious around you lately, less distant, now that he knows that you accept him wholeheartedly for who he is, all that he is, even the dark, ugly parts that he tried to keep from you. But sometimes, when he is in the space that is so clearly yours, he still makes himself small, as if he thinks you’d kick him out if you remembered he was there.
It doesn’t matter that you invited him in and insisted he stayed. The fear that you could change your mind at any point, that the longer he’s around, the more he risks showing you a part of him you won’t like, that’s what sticks.
When you sit down across from him, he notices your eyes landing on his bruised knuckles, sees your brow furrows. Sheepishly, he removes his hand from the table.
“Doesn’t it hurt?” you ask.
You ask that a lot. Worry a lot. Selfishly, he likes that you do.
“It’s fine,” he replies, voice quiet. “It will heal.”
The wounds won’t get infected, they won’t kill him, and they’ll go away eventually. So, sure, it stings as long as they’re open, but he’s long stopped bothering with cleaning or treating them. Who cares about his pain anyway?
“That’s not the point,” you say, reaching out for his hand. He doesn’t resist when you take it in yours. How could he? Your fingers are soft, gentle, your skin is warm. It’s like he melts into your touch, like his muscles turn into lead.
It also makes him greedy, makes him want to know what it would do if you touched him more, in different ways. Inside him, the monster stirs, and Hyun-Su forces it back down.
You lift his hand and blow on the wounds that mar his knuckles. The gesture is childish, and despite himself, a smile breaks on his face.
“That’s not going to change much.”
He notices belatedly how fond his voice sounds. He’s usually so careful not to let it be so obvious, but you just surprised it out of him. If you notice, you don’t let it show. Instead, you roll your eyes at him — until you get another idea.
He looks at you in bemused interest as you lower your face towards his hand. And then he realizes what you’re doing, and his heart skips a beat.
You glance up at him, a silent request for his approval, before you go any further. He doesn’t know how to give it to you, doesn’t know if he should, if it’s safe.
He also doesn’t take his hand away.
Your lips press gently against his knuckles, and it sends a jolt through him that ignites his whole body. He can’t see himself, but he’s sure he’s blushing. When you meet his eyes again, he averts his immediately, swallows, clears his throat. But then he feels you open your fingers, letting his hand slip from your grasp, and he tightens his hold on you at the last second. He cannot bear the thought of losing your touch, not just yet.
“That—” His voice cracks. “That does help.”
“Oh,” you say, and then your thumb runs over his hand in a soft caress. He exhales, long and slow. He’d do anything for you not to let go of him.
When you stand up, his head shoots up, eyes following you like a puppy — only for you to get closer to him. You roll your lips together, still searching his expression for approval. You trace a wound on his shoulder, one he doesn’t even remember getting, if he’s being honest.
“Would it help here?” you ask.
Hyun-Su’s whole body is buzzing with the absolute, desperate need to be touched again.
All he can do is nod.
You lean in, kiss his shoulder, and he closes his eyes. He wants to drown in you. He wants you to run your hands over his body, he wants to touch you so bad, and he hates himself for remaining so still. But then you touch his cheek, trace his jaw, and he’s so infinitely thankful that you do what he can’t.
You’re the one who’s not meeting his eyes this time, as your index finger brushes against his bottom lip. There’s no wound there, they’re just chapped, and yet…
“How about here?”
He’s almost shaking in anticipation by now. He thinks he’d kill to be kissed by you — he knows the monster would. But again, he just nods.
So, standing in front of him, between his legs, you cup his cheek in the gentlest of ways, like he’s precious, and you kiss him again. It’s soft, gentle, just lips against lips.  You make a delicate sound when you part from him, and he regrets the loss of it immediately. It must be why he blurts out, before you can move any further “It still hurts.”
Your eyes go wide for a second, before a smile stretches your lips. He only gets a second to ask himself if he asked for too much, if you’re going to be disgusted with him for daring to ask, if—
You kiss him again, a little harder this time, nose pressing against his cheek. Your hands move to the back of his neck to support yourself better. Hyun-Su feels you part your lips, feels your tongue against his mouth, and that is when he loses it.
He’s happy that you have your eyes closed because, even though he feels fully in control of himself at the moment, he’s not sure which color you’d see in his just now.
He pulls you into his lap, hands on your hips at first before he moves one of them, just a little, to the small of your back. You’re all over him now, body against his, scent overwhelming, your taste on his tongue. The apartment would be quiet, if it wasn’t for the sound of your mouths together, and for the rush of his blood in his ears.
You gasp quietly into him, your teeth catch against his bottom lip and it makes him shiver. He dares then, caught in the euphoria of it all perhaps, to reach up to touch your face, long fingers stroking your cheek. His skin is on fire everywhere you touch it, but he wouldn’t give it up for the world, and he finds itself praying it never ends.
Yet it does, fairly abruptly, when he realizes, suddenly, that he’s falling. On instinct, he wraps his arms around you to protect you, and then the two of you hit the floor. The chair had to have tipped backwards at some point, without the two of you noticing.
There’s a moment of stunned silence afterwards, before you let out a quiet laugh, hiding your face in his shoulder.
Much to his surprise, he hears himself laugh as well. It just feels easy to do, when you’re in his arms. His heart is still pounding, his lips are tingling, and his breathing is shallow, but he’s feeling emotions he hasn’t felt in years.
He’s happy.
Deep inside of him, the monster takes a step back, satiated.
For now, anyway.
Tumblr media
i've really loved writing this and i'm quite happy with the end result, especially for something i wrote so quickly, so i hope you liked it too! please let me know your thoughts either on here, in tags, in an ask or reblog the fic, it means the world to me and it lets me know you want to see more, so it keeps me motivated!
next part
1K notes · View notes
frogchiro · 7 months
Note
I hope I’m not bothering you with my ancient greek mythology stuff my little brain is going into overdrive👉👈
Just…sculptor/painter reader using the gladiators as her nude model…running your hands over their muscles and gushing how strong they are and how amazing your latest piece is going to come out!
You don’t even notice they’re getting hard as you run your fingers over their adonis belt commenting how they’re your new muse for your art
I almost (s)creamed the moment I saw this ask nonnie dear you're a genius ;;
Also I feel the need to mention this; please do keep in mind that this is only my silly au and most probably will have historical inaccuracies so if you're a true history/ancient greece/roman enjoyer, please go mild on me ;;
But back to the drill...You are so right??? Like...I imagine that reader would be a young, aspiring artist with a knack for painting. Maybe she doesn't come from a wealthy family so any true school for it is out of the question, your own parents only came along when you started selling your painting and doing commissions for nobles and it actually started to bring in money. Your road to success is still long but you're managing! Plus you're 'stupidly determined like your father' as your mother says so you try to stay positive!
The one problem you had was something you believed many artists suffered from; inspiration and models. Specifically human models. The human body and physique fascinated you from an early age, the moving muscles, facial expressions to different stimuli and so much more but...the problem were the models, or rather the lack thereof.
You could probably hire someone but the money spend on that would be way too much for your limited budget so the next best thing was the coliseum! It was a blessing in poor disguise, the gladiators trained there almost daily and luckily the head keeper of the arena begrudingly let you stay there and practice in exchange for a satchel of money but to be honest...the practice wasn't the only thing you longed for when visiting the coliseum almost daily, it was the gladiators.
They were huge, burly men in their prime, all of them looking like they were born with a sword or spear in hand and to grow up to become warrior and you'd be lying if you said that warmth didn't spread through your body and centered in your lower belly whenever these big, loud and boisterous men didn't call out for you and purred in dripping, low voices how pent up they are and what they wouldn't give for a pretty soft thing like you :((
The worst (or best) part was when you were practicing nude drawings which were equally fascinating and hard to draw, especially with all these men being so...shameless with it. You loved the human body, all artists do but still you were a young lady and watching all the gladiators walking around the barracks all naked and proud was...an experience to say the least and brought a pang of warmth between your thighs, especially when they were so happy to parade themselves like proud stallions in front of you :((
Strong, toned bodies glistening with sweat and water, their hardening cocks proudly on show whenever you run your soft hands over their toned torsos to study the way muscles move and twitch whenever you run your fingers over a sensitive spot, the most reactive being two of the many foreign gladiators, Johnny or like he insisted to be called 'Soap' and Kyle or 'Gaz', like he wants to be called.
These two are always purring low withing their chests to you as you look all over them, their backs, chests, stomachs, making you promise to do a special commission only for them but you're just nodding dumbly because you're too transfixed on the god-like bodies to draw :(
Another gladiator you're very fond of is a huge, blonde foreigner named Simon, or 'Ghost'. A formidable warrior, a veteran for sure, it looked like Ares himself send this one here to grace the people with a demigod of war. He was always incredibly patient with you, letting you roam your hands over his body and all the numerous scars decorating his skin. Once you saw Simon up close you immediately realized why people called him a demigod-he was beautiful. A strong and powerful man in his prime, his muscles jumping and twitching beneath his thick skin and a layer of fat, power and virility was literally radiating off of this man, and you insistently tried not to look at the long and thick cock hanging between his legs, twitching and pulsating with arousal whenever you marveled over his body and your fingers ran over his adonis belt <3
2K notes · View notes
rafesaddiction · 6 months
Text
It's not cheating when he's your stepbrother – Rafe Cameron x Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: You lie about your first kiss. Will you lie about your first time too?
You are Rafe's stepsister, just graduated from boarding school and here for the summer holidays before you'll leave for college. You and Rafe used to be close, but that changed, years ago. Now he is distant and mean, and something else happens when you have your first boyfriend. A nice guy, a sweet guy, nothing like Rafe.
Concept: stepsiblings, first time, just the tip
Warnings: mdni! – smut, noncon/dubcon, rough sex, p in v, loss of virginity (virgin!reader), fingering, stepcest, violence, slapping, manhandling, mentions of child abuse (ward physically and emotionally abusing rafe), cheating (reader cheating on boyfriend), name calling (rafe calls reader slut and whore), angst, dark!rafe, mean!rafe, this starts off kinda sweet but gets quite dark.
When reading this, please do so at your own discretion. Keep in mind, this is just a work of fiction.
Word count: 9.0k (holy fuck! how did that happen?)
tagging @ashy-kit since you asked. I hope you'll like this.
“Wait! Was that actually your first kiss? Oh my god! It was!”
Sarah stared at you with large eyes, then covered her mouth, laughing. You just smiled, shrugged, and averted your gaze, feeling heat in your cheeks. It was a bit embarrassing that your younger stepsister had more experience with boys than you did. The reason for that might have been that you had gone to an all-girls boarding school practically your whole life. But truth was, if anything, away from parents, kids had even more opportunities at boarding school to gain sexual experience, be it with other students, local boys, or even teachers. You knew that a lot of your classmates did much more than just kiss when sneaking out at night. But you weren't the type to sneak out at night. You were the type to get your first kiss at 18 after graduating from said boarding school.
“Tell us more,” Wheezie insisted. She sat next to you on the couch, cross-legged, looking at you, eager to hear your story. You smiled at your little stepsister. You two had grown closer over the past years, with Wheezie discovering the internet and thus being able to chat with you even when you were hundreds of miles away at school.
“Denny is quite a good kisser though. You’re lucky, he was your first,” Sarah said, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table in front of her.
You knew that Sarah had hooked up with Denny. So you had, of course, told her when he had asked you out. Sarah was totally okay with it, she even encouraged you to text him back, when he texted you. Denny hadn't been her boyfriend, just one of her hook-ups, ages ago. And as of now, Sarah was too happily in love with her pogue boyfriend to be jealous at all. It was kind of a forbidden romance, Wheezie had told you all about it, but Sarah herself also liked to share, she loved talking about her boyfriend and his pogue friends and their way of living. And you liked to listen to her exciting stories or when she complained about her father or brother. You liked that you were kind of close, even though you only spent the summer and Christmas holidays at Tannyhill.
Your mother had you at a very young age and you were practically raised by your grandma. When your mother married Ward Cameron, you were old enough to be send off to one of the most prestigious boarding schools in the country. The school was in another state, but could as well have been on another continent. Your mother didn't want to have you in her new life, she already had three new kids to look after. Ward wouldn’t have minded, he made sure you knew that you were as much a daughter to him as Sarah and Wheezie. He showed his affection by paying for your expensive education. Now that you had graduated from high school, you were supposed to spend the summer before going to an ivy league school with your family in the Outer Banks.
“Did you close your eyes? Did you feel butterflies? Did he do the neck grab?” Wheezie kept shooting one question after the other and you felt your face must have been glowing. You looked away, trying to think of what to answer, when your eyes met a pair of intense blue eyes, staring at you from across the room.
Rafe, your older stepbrother, stood in the hallway, looking at you. And for some reason, you felt that damn heat had reached your ears. You quickly looked away, turning to Sarah, who was telling Wheezie that she shouldn't base her expectations on tiktoks and fanfics.
The kiss happened the night before at a kook party. You had been texting and hanging out with Denny for about two weeks. He was your age, he was charming, smart, the former captain of the football team. He was actually so good that he got a scholarship to play at a college team. Not that he would have needed the scholarship to go to college, his parents were one of the wealthiest kook families on the island. Almost as rich and influential as the Camerons. Of course, you knew Denny before, the island was small and he was one of your stepbrother's friends. But this whole thing with him only started about two weeks ago when you quite literally ran into him at the country club. He insisted on buying you another drink even though you were the one who spilled your drink on him. He texted you later, he got your number from Sarah, and, since Sarah was encouraging you, you texted back and agreed to go on a date with him. You had been on four dates already: dinner, a trip to the beach, another dinner, and a date on his family's yacht, when you went to the party with him the previous night. And then it just happened. He kissed you outside the house where the party was. It was a starry night and the kiss was nice. And after, he took your hand and walked inside with you and you smiled, as you felt the warmth of his hand around yours.
“I'll get us some fresh popcorn, then we can start the movie, okay?” You grabbed the half-empty bowl and got up from the couch, while your stepsisters were in some serious discussion about some actor from a show you had never heard of.
You left the living room and walked past Rafe, who didn't seem to have moved an inch. You didn't look up at him when you spoke to him.
“You wanna join us and watch a movie with us? It's Wheezie's choice tonight, so I guess it's whatever is trending on netflix at the moment,” you said and were about to head for the kitchen, when suddenly his hand wrapped around your arm. You stopped and looked up at him, gasping.
Rafe leaned down to you, and you felt his hand gripping tighter around your arm. You winced and were about to say something, when you met his eyes. Dark blue orbs staring at you, so very close to you.
“Why did you lie?”
You frowned in confusion.
“Why did you lie and say that that was your first kiss?”
You just gazed up at him. And despite the heat in your face, you felt a shiver running down your spine.
You parted your lips, wanting to say something, but he cut you off.
“I hate liars.”
And then he let go off you, turned around and just left, and you felt your heart beating in your chest, so rapidly, so loudly, your stepsisters in the other room must have heard it. You stepped back from the door, your back pressing against the wall, as you tried to compose yourself.
He was right. That kiss wasn't your first kiss.
Your first kiss happened with Rafe when you were 15 and he was 17.
Tumblr media
It was right after Christmas. Before New Year's Eve. It was late at night and you decided to have a hot chocolate before going to sleep. You met Rafe in the kitchen, standing at the open fridge, rummaging it for some leftovers from dinner. He was wearing that ridiculous Christmas sweater with the reindeer over his sleeping shorts. You couldn't help but giggle at the sight of him. He was already tall then, not as tall as he was now, but much taller than you. He was lean, less bulky. He was a boy still and he grinned like one, when he turned to look at you.
“What's so funny? You laughing at me?”
“Nothing, nothing,” you shook your head, grinning, “Sven.”
You squealed and giggled when Rafe launched a tickle-attack on you.
It used to be so easy around him. He was always sweet, sometimes teasing, but always in a sweet way. He was protective and you felt safe with him. You were closer then, and it was just easy to be yourself with him.
You got into a real tickle fight with him, chasing each other around the kitchen, as he finally got you.
“Stop, stop, stop! I surrender!” You said, out of breath. Your cheeks hurting from laughing so hard.
He stopped tickling you, but his hands still rested on your sides, and he stood very close in front of you. Your own hands clutching that ridiculous sweater of his. He looked down at you. His hair disheveled, his cheeks flushed, his chest heaving, his lips parted. He didn't laugh or grin and your own laughing had stopped too. All you heard was your rapid heartbeat and both of you panting.
And his hand touched your cheek. You felt a little spark, but instead of withdrawing, you leaned into his touch. Your lips parted as he leaned closer. His face so close, you could hardly make out his features, so you closed your eyes, and breathed in. And it was his scent that filled your lungs, before you felt his lips on yours. And that contact sent a wave of some yet unknown sensation through your body, and you felt it everywhere, felt it in your fingertips that grabbed the sweater. Felt it in your toes as you stood on them to meet Rafe's lips. Felt it on your skin, where he touched you, felt it under your skin. Felt it coursing through your veins.
A distant sound, and Rafe suddenly broke the kiss. In a state of daze you opened your eyes and moved them to what Rafe was staring at. Or to who.
Ward was standing in the door to the kitchen. His presence towering both of you. You shuddered and jumped away from Rafe.
You slowly walked backwards, your heart racing, sudden fear being the dominant emotion. But when Ward came closer, his attention wasn't focused on you. He hardly seemed to notice that you were even there. He glared at his son, glared at Rafe who just stood there, as if he was paralyzed by fear, unable to move.
You didn't wait for what happened, you chose flight and ran past Ward, ran up to your room, locking the door. You heard no screaming, no yelling, though you had expected as much. When half way up the stairs, you had heard a thud, and then something banging heavily, like a chair falling to the ground.
The next morning, you didn't see Rafe at the breakfast table. You saw your stepfather, who was smiling and being his relaxed self as ever. Only he avoided directly looking at you.
You saw Rafe later in the afternoon. You wanted to talk to him, say something, but you didn't know what. And when you saw the bruise under his eye, you had no words left.
Four days later you left to return to school. And when you came back during spring break, things were different, very different. Rafe no longer smiled at you, never laughed when you were around. When he didn't avoid you, he glared at you. And there was something so dark in his blue eyes that it made you shudder and sob at night.
Tumblr media
“But you have to come!” Sarah pushed out her lower lip and looked at you with her big brown eyes, pleadingly, practically begging you to come with you to the party that evening.
“I want to spend time with my favorite older sibling and I want you to meet my friends. Besides, what do you want to do here, huh? Your boyfriend is on a family trip in the Bahamas and you can't seriously want to spend another evening binge-watching The Summer I Turned Pretty with Wheezie. Come on! Pleaaase.” Sarah's pouting went up another level and she made actual puppy eyes.
You didn't mind spending another evening with Wheezie and listening to her endless monologs on why she would always choose Jeremiah over Conrad, over any guy really.
You sighed. “But I don't have anything to –”
“To wear?” Sarah interrupted you and grabbed your hand. “Come on, you can pick whatever you want from my closet.”
You sighed in defeat, but smiled, as you followed your stepsister into her bedroom.
You didn't end up with choosing anything from her closet, but she picked out an outfit for you. And Sarah had great taste and you didn't complain. She selected a light summer dress for you, fitting for a casual party at the beach. You liked how the fabric felt on your skin and how the cut accented your curves without revealing too much. The skirt was a bit shorter than what you'd usually wore, but it was the middle of summer and you were on the island and not in the city.
When looking at the mirror, you smiled at the young woman smiling at you. You touched the golden necklace you were wearing. A gift from Denny. When he gave it to you the other day, you were surprised. Wasn't it a bit early for such costly gifts? But he insisted on you taking it and he was so happy when he put it around your neck. The pendant was a green stone, it was a bit heavy, but it looked nice. You really appreciated the gesture. And you really appreciated how your boyfriend treated you. He was okay with taking things slow. He never pushed you and in these past weeks, you had never done more than holding hands. You hadn't even kissed again. – Something you wouldn't tell your sister, for a reason you didn't quite know yourself.
You enjoyed yourself a lot at the party. Sarah's friends were easy to get along with, especially JJ. You just met him like an hour ago and he had already made you laugh more than you had in the whole past month or even year. But talking with Pope was also nice, he knew a lot and you liked listening to him. You also liked watching how these two boys got into a playfight about something stupid. You didn't mind that Sarah left you with the pogues as she and John B wanted to spend some time alone.
“Now, c'mon. Dance with me, big-city girl,” JJ pointed at you, then bent his finger to indicate that you should follow him. You laughed and shook your head. He then tried to catch you with an imaginary lasso.
“You’d better go, before he does his full-on cowboy impression, and talking in that accent, and believe me, you don't wanna hear that. No one wants to hear that,” Pope told you, leaning closer to you, and then taking your cup, so you could go and join JJ at the bonfire.
You couldn't deny that the cheap beer you had been drinking had made you a bit tipsy and somehow loosened you up a bit. But mainly, you just felt comfortable in the presence of Sarah's friends that had quickly become your friends too. And you weren't the only ones dancing by the fire. Other people also danced to the music coming from someone's speakers.
JJ took your hand and twirled you around, made an effort at imitating some dance moves that looked very elaborated. It was fun, you felt a permanent grin on your cheeks, glowing with the heat from the nearby fire, the booze and the excitement. You felt free, not thinking about anything at all. Not even thinking about the way you moved, but you just did. You felt the music, felt the joy of being young and careless – and you suddenly felt something hard that you bumped into, while twirling around.
“Sorry,” you muttered and looked up, as two hands grabbed your arms.
And you looked into the angry face of your stepbrother.
You froze, just for a moment. Then you tried to get away, but Rafe only held you closer, like pulling you into a tight embrace, and for an instant you thought that he might want to dance with you. But he didn't.
“Hey!” JJ's voice behind you made your head spin around.
“Let her go!” The blond boy stood a couple of feet away, his hands clenched into fists. His whole body seemed tensed up and he glared at Rafe. JJ looked so different from how he had looked a minute ago. All that carelessness, all his smiles gone.
You felt Rafe tense up too, as his hands tightened their grip around your arms, making you wince in pain.
“JJ,” he said his name through clenched teeth as if it was an insult.
The two boys stared at each other, the tension between them was palpable. People had gathered around them, but you didn't actually take notice of them. You looked at JJ, tried to tell him not to do anything stupid, but his eyes were fixed on Rafe. You looked at Rafe. You gave up freeing yourself from his iron grip.
“Please,” you pleaded, unsure what else to say. Your voice too soft, too weak anyway. You felt cold all of a sudden, and very sober.
And then everything happened just so fast.
JJ must have stepped closer, because the next moment, Rafe pushed you behind his own body as he lunged forward to hit JJ. When he moved his arm back, his elbow hit you at your chin and you, no longer held by him, stumbled and fell to the sandy ground. But neither Rafe nor JJ took notice. When you looked up, you saw them throwing fists at each other. Their bodies colliding, this was another kind of dance. You were shocked to see such fierce violence, both of them seemingly fighting with the intend to end the other.
You were shaking and only now noticed that you had started to cry. You cried and yelled and pleaded them to stop.
Fortunately, some guys stepped in, pulling the fighting boys apart.
Rafe angrily shrugged off the guy who was holding him, while two others held JJ, who fiercely, but in vain fought to free himself.
“Rafe!” You screamed his name, and that made him stop, made him turn his head towards you, still sitting on the ground, tears running down your face.
Rafe's eyes were dark and the look on his face was unlike anything you had ever witnessed. You flinched as he came closer, suddenly so afraid of your own stepbrother. He frowned at your reaction, but proceeded. He grabbed your arm, made you cry out in pain, pulled you to your feet. And when you tried to get away, because every cell in your body told you to run, he caught you, wrapping his arms around you from behind, picking you up like you weighed nothing, held you in both his arms. Your feet kicking the air, your fists trying to hit him, you were screaming, but he easily carried you away. And no one stopped him.
Through teary eyes you saw JJ being held by the two guys while a third one punched his face, and yet he fought, tried to get away, looking at you, looking at Rafe, who carried you away, carried you from the beach to his car.
He opened the door and tossed you onto the passenger seat. You let out a groan, as something hit your back. As soon as Rafe let go off you, you tried to get up, get out, but Rafe pushed you back into the seat.
“Let me go! Just let me go!” Your hands tried to shove him out of the way.
He caught one of your wrists, twisted it in his grip, as he reached over you to fasten the seatbelt.
You whined and gave up fighting as you knew he was too strong and you had no chance against him at all.
“Please just let me go. Why are you like this?” You pleaded between sobs.
“Why am I like this?!” Rafe yelled at you and his hand shot forward to grasp your chin, pressing so hard, you feared he would crush your jaw.
“You acting like a goddamn slut messing around with a fucking pogue!”
You flinched at each word he yelled at you, his face closer and closer. His eyes so wild, his whole expression just fuming with rage, directed at you.
“I did not,” you tried to defend yourself.
“You're a fucking LIAR!”
You flinched, and when you closed your eyes, a stream of tears ran down your cheeks.
“No,” you tried again, but he cut you short.
“You think I'm stupid?” He tilted his head, frowning, his eyes small as he glared at you in disbelief. “You think I don't know what's going on? You fucking that pogue. You’re a whore. Just like Sarah. All my sisters are goddamn sluts fucking those filthy pogues. And what does that make me look like, huh? Thought about that? Thought about what it means for your family? Your free-spirited fucking lifestyle? How does that look on dad, huh? Have you ever thought about anyone but yourself? Ever thought about the consequences of what you're doing?”
You gazed at him, taken aback by his accusations, not understanding what had gotten into him.
His eyes moved down from your face to your chest, which rose and fell under your agitated breathing.
His hand slowly let go of your chin, moved down your neck. You held your breath as you felt the pressure on your throat. His tongue flicked out, wetting his lips. His hand moved down further, his palm pressing hard onto the necklace’s pendant. You winced as you felt the hard stone digging into your skin.
“My own sister. Dressed like a whore. Fucking a pogue.” His voice was now calmer, darker, and it made you shiver.
“But, Rafe,” you sobbed, your hands tentatively reaching for his arm. “I did not do anything, I swear.”
The back of his hand hit your cheek so hard, your head flew to the side and it hit the headrest of the driver's seat.
You stared at him in shock, eyes widened, lips parted, pressing your hand to your throbbing cheek.
You couldn't believe what just happened.
But instead of apologizing or saying anything that would explain what he just did, Rafe just kept looking at you, his eyes on your trembling body. You noticed only now that your dress had slipped up, revealing a bit of your underwear. You quickly reached down to pull the fabric to cover as much of your legs as possible.
You looked up as you heard him scoff.
Shaking his head, moving his lips as if talking, talking to himself, he pushed himself back from the door, slammed it shut and walked around the car to get into the driver's seat.
You shifted as far away from him as you could, pressing your shoulder against the window, but you did not try to get out. You did not try to stop him when he started the engine. You did not yell or scream or rage. You just sat there, quietly sobbing as he drove you back to Tannyhill.
And Rafe didn't say anything, didn't even look at you when he parked the car in the driveway. He didn't look back when he got into the house, just left the front door open after he went inside.
You followed, slowly, your body still shaking with sobs. Your face hurt. The throbbing had become a sharp pain by now.
You got inside the house, it was dark, your parents and your little sister fast asleep.
You waited at the top of the stairs, until you heard the door of Rafe's bedroom shut, then you ran into your own room, locked the door behind you and crawled under the covers of your bed.
Tumblr media
You didn't tell anyone what had happened that night with Rafe in the car.
Of course, Sarah knew about the fight between Rafe and JJ, and the day after she asked you, if you were okay. She even asked you if she should come over. But you said, you were okay and she should stay at John B's, you might come over later too. Sarah liked that idea, she was totally excited about it. You were talking over the phone, no video, so you didn't have to fake a smile. But you liked just listening when she talked with you about John B and the pogues. Their treasure hunting, their fishing trips, how she was learning to surf. It was nice to hear that your stepsister was so happy. It made you forget your own situation for a while.
Truth was, you weren't quite sure what that situation was.
The next days you tried your best to avoid your stepbrother, which wasn't too hard. He seemed to be out or asleep most of the time. So you were able to spend some time with Wheezie, preferably outside the house, somewhere you'd know you wouldn't accidentally run into Rafe, like that ice-cream parlor or the waffle house that sold these literally gigantic waffles with pink marshmallows. You even went to the mainland to a funfair with your little stepsister. Wheezie didn't notice the bruises on your face. You did quite a good job covering them up with your make up.
Since your boyfriend was still away with his family, you spent the nights either watching movies with Wheezie, helping her make tiktoks, or just in your room, reading a book.
You closed the book you had been reading for the past hours. Yawning, you looked at your phone. It was almost 3 a.m. You needed to use the bathroom. You sat on the edge of the bed, hesitating. Usually you would go down the corridor to get to the bathroom Sarah and Wheezie were sharing. But it was the middle of the night and you didn't want Wheezie to wake up. Besides, Rafe hadn't come home that night, so he wouldn't hear you.
You left your room and went to the bathroom. Pushing open the unlocked door, you stepped inside and froze. The light was on and you should have taken your time and listened when you had been outside. The water of the rain shower was running. And Rafe was standing under the shower. His back to you. The water raining down on his body, his naked body. The open shower offered you a complete view. His hair was wet, sticking to his head. Drops of water gracing his broad shoulders. Trails of water running down his back, accentuating the contours of his well-defined muscles. Water running down his lower back, over the curves of his butt, down his legs. He shifted slightly, his legs parting just a bit. Your eyes darted up, and you saw how he turned his head, turned it towards you. And looked at you. Water drops caught in his lashes, as he gazed at you. And his body moved and he was about to turn around completely, when you finally woke up from your frozen state and swiftly turned around and left the bathroom as fast as you could.
When you were inside your room, you were shaking. Your back pressed against the back of your door. You were panting, so loudly, it was embarrassing. You covered your mouth with both your hands. Your legs felt weak, like they would give in, but at the same time you felt something else, a very different, very unknown sensation. Something that had started as a tickling sensation and was now a throbbing, between your legs. You pressed them as closely together as you could. But it wouldn't stop. All your previous sleepiness gone, it seemed like all your senses were fully awake and heightened.
You heard a door open and close. You tried to focus and listen, between the sounds of your own rapid heartbeat. You heard footsteps on the corridor. Slow and heavy. They came closer and stopped. In front of your door. Right behind you. You pressed the palm of one of your hands against the wood. And you stopped breathing. Your mind racing. Trying to remember if you had locked your door.
It was still, completely still apart from your own heavy breathing, muffled by your own hand.
Then you heard footsteps again and another door, open and close.
And you still couldn't move.
When you finally made it to your bed, after checking if you indeed had locked your door, you didn't find real sleep for the rest of the night. Again and again you woke up, hearing the dripping sound of water or raspy breathing close to your ear.
You must have fallen asleep at some point, because when you opened your eyes next, the sun was shining right into your face and it was almost noon. You groaned as you turned in your bed. It was unusual for you to get up this late. You got dressed, wearing a sweater and your jeans shorts. It was most probably too hot outside for wearing a sweater, but with the air conditioning working, it was a bit chilly inside.
You went to the kitchen to get some coffee and something to eat to finally start the day. On your way downstairs, you heard Wheezie's and your mother's voice from another room. You figured that at this time of the day, the kitchen would be empty. Except it wasn't.
You stopped in the doorway when you saw Rafe. His back turned towards you, wearing a loose t-shirt and grey sweatpants, Rafe was standing at the coffeemaker.
Involuntarily, you let out a gasp, which he must have heard, because his head turned around. His eyes met yours. Just for a brief moment, then he turned his attention back to the machine in front of him. He didn't say anything, but you could have sworn that you saw a tiny smirk curling up the corners of his lips.
You took a deep breath. Something inside you told you to just go and run upstairs, lock yourself in your room. But your feet started moving and you walked to the fridge. It didn't seem as if Rafe even cared that you were in the same room with him. So you supposed that he had resumed his usual stance of just ignoring you. Besides, you still heard your sister's voice from the living room close by. Even Rafe wouldn't dare to do anything with his family, with his little sister so close by.
You went about grabbing something to eat and making yourself a coffee, while Rafe was doing the same quietly. You didn't look at him, just heard him move about and saw his frame from the corner of your eyes.
Your hands rested on the edge of the counter, fingers curling, your weight shifted to one foot, the other foot rubbed over your calf, feeling the warm woolen fabric of the sock, you were deeply in thought, while waiting for the coffeemaker to finish the program for your cappuccino.
“You're done with the staring?”
That dark voice directly behind you made you flinch and you lost your balance, tipping to the side, you almost fell – if it hadn't been for a strong hand catching you. And even when you were standing securely on both feet again, that hand didn't let go off your waist.
You felt your chest widen with the deep breath you took.
Rafe's body was so close to yours, you could feel the heat radiating from it. You could feel his muscles move as he leaned down to you, his chest pressing against your back.
“So, did you like what you saw? Last night? You left in such a rush. What were you doing in your room? Lying in your bed, thinking about my cock, touching yourself?” His lips grazed your ear as he whispered those words that made you involuntarily shiver, despite the heat you felt under your sweater.
You turned your head to look at him, when you felt something poking at your back.
Your lips parted and you felt them quiver as his face moved closer. His breath caressing your face, his eyes holding yours as his lips hovered over your mouth. Your breathing hitched as you felt his other hand move up to reach for your face.
“Finally you're up!” Wheezie's voice made you gasp. You felt pure heat rushing to your head.
Rafe’s hand – a second ago almost brushing your cheekbone – reached up to the cupboard above your head, taking out a glass. He walked to the fridge to take out the orange juice and pour some into the glass.
You grabbed the mug from under the coffeemaker, turned around and lifted it to your lips even though the contents were still too hot to drink. Your sleeves covered your wrists and you held the mug with both your hands, holding onto it like a lifeline. You nodded at Wheezie and tried to offer her a smile while your whole body was trembling.
Rafe had downed the orange juice and was pouring himself another glass, when Wheezie came over, snatched that newly filled glass from his hands and turned towards you while taking a sip.
“I needed your help with that tiktok,” she said and her accusing tone made you feel guilty, even though you couldn't remember having promised her to help her.
“I'm sorry,” you muttered. “We can do it now?” You offered.
Wheezie exhaled dramatically.
“Now is too late. We're about to leave.” Wheezie looked at you with her dark eyes, pouting. “But you could come and we can make it on the ferry,” she asked sweetly all of a sudden and took another sip from the orange juice.
Rafe, obviously having decided that he was still thirsty, had stepped closer and took out another glass from the kitchen cupboard above your head. His arm brushing your hair as he did so. And you felt goosebumps crawling over your skin, spreading on your neck.
Your eyes darted up and you noticed that Rafe's eyes traveled to your neck, and that look felt more intense than any touch and caused another shiver.
“You cold? Are you sick? Is that why you slept in?” Wheezie sounded seriously concerned now.
That shiver must have been visible. You cursed your own body for reacting so intensely and so weirdly to your stepbrother's presence.
“No, no, don't worry, Wheezie. I'm fine. I just spent the whole night reading.”
You heard a scoff coming from Rafe, but didn't look.
“Oh, that book with the dragons? You need to tell me all about it!”
“I will,” you smiled, and it was a real smile. You loved your little sister's enthusiasm.
“But not today. Denny is coming back from his family trip and we're meeting this afternoon.”
Wheezie's lips formed a disappointed ‘O', but then she nodded and took more sips from her glass.
“You're spending a lot of time with that boy lately,” Ward had entered the kitchen, and he offered you a warm smile. “You should invite him over for dinner, so we can officially meet.”
“Oh, my god, dad. You sound like a total patriarch,” Wheezie rolled her eyes.
“I do? Now the patriarch tells you to get in the car, Wheezie, we're already late,” Ward tilted his head and looked at his youngest daughter with warmth in his eyes.
Wheezie rolled her eyes again, muttered an annoyed “Fine,” put her glass down on the counter next to you, hugged you as if she was about to leave for months. When she let go, she turned towards her brother standing by the fridge.
“Bye, Rafe. Thanks for the juice,” she said, twirled around and literally danced out of the kitchen, as Rafe mumbled his reply.
You noticed how his stance had changed completely, his shoulders were drawn up, he was looking down. He seemed more tense ever since his father had come into the kitchen.
“If you don't find it too patriarchy of me, I’d like to get to know the boy that my daughter spends so much time with.”
“No, of course, that would be nice. I’ll ask him,” you quickly replied and smiled at your stepfather. You couldn't deny it, it always made you feel sort of happy when Ward casually called you his daughter, making no difference between you and his biological daughters.
“Now that's settled then,” he said. “Enjoy your date.”
“Thanks,” you took a sip from your cappuccino, which was now cool enough to drink.
Ward gave you another smile, before turning his attention toward his son.
“I asked you to drop off the crates at the site by 2.”
“I – I will. I'm on it,” Rafe gazed at his father who frowned at him.
“That's what you always say.”
“But I will.”
“It's a simple task, Rafe. If you can't even do that –“
“No, I said I will!” Rafe straightened up, took a step closer to his father, his body tensing up, you noticed.
“Honey? We need to get going,” your mother looked through the kitchen door.
“You have a nice day with Denny, sweetheart,” she addressed you, before just frowning at Rafe and leaving.
Before Ward also left, he smiled at you again – this time, the smile was a bit strained, you noticed.
He shot a less than friendly look at his son.
“For a change, just don't disappoint me again.”
When your parents had left, you remained in the kitchen and there was a strange silence.
You looked at Rafe, he was biting his nails.
“You okay?” Your voice soft, full of real concern.
He turned his face towards you, glared at you.
“Shut up!” You flinched as he yelled at you and then stormed out of the kitchen.
You let out a shaky breath after he had left. You weren't hungry anymore, so you just emptied the remains of your cappuccino into the sink and went upstairs.
Wrapped in a towel after taking a long hot shower in your sisters' bathroom, you returned to your room, only to find Rafe standing at your bed, looking at the clothes you had picked out to wear.
He held up the top you had put on the bed.
“You gonna wear that to your date?” He tilted his head, looking at you, his eyes slightly narrowed.
“Give that back,” you tried to snatch it from his hand, but Rafe's reflexes were better and he held it up, out of reach. Still you tried to get a hold of it, reaching up with one arm, while you held the towel close to your chest with your other hand, feeling it loosen from the quick movement.
Rafe looked down at you, just with his eyes, and there was a glint in them, and the corners of his mouth curled up into a smirk.
You frowned and held both your arms now in front of your chest, clutching the towel.
The tip of his tongue flicked out and wetted his lips. As if it was some reflex, you bit your own lips, and he chuckled in response. You only now realized that his body was so close to yours that you felt that vibration in your own body.
“You want to seduce him? Want him to fuck you?”
“Why are you so –” You looked up at his face and tried to step back when you felt the edge of the bed hitting the back of your legs and stopping your movement.
“So what?” He bowed his head down and his piercing blue eyes stared at you.
“Mean,” you said.
“You like it, don't you?” He tilted his head to the side and that grin on his lips changed.
“No,” you said quickly and as firmly as you managed to.
“No what?” He mocked you.
You looked at him, your brows furrowed. Still holding the towel with both hands, you tried to push at his chest with your elbow to get some distance between you two.
“I like you better when you're not mean,” you said, no longer looking up, but your eyes on his chest that you were trying to push away.
“That so?” His voice was lower than before and you lifted your gaze to see his eyebrows raised. “Like when?”
“Like when you were nice.”
"What is nice, hm?”
You felt a heat crawling under your skin and lowered your gaze.
His fingers under your chin tilted up your head, made you look at him again. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip.
“This nice?” His voice a raspy whisper.
The sudden softness of his touch made you shiver.
Your lips parted and you drew in a sharp breath as he leaned down.
“This?” His voice so low, you could hardly hear it, but feel it so intensely, as his lips moved close to yours. And you could taste his breath, taste the coffee and the orange juice and him.
You held your breath and his lips grazed the corner of your mouth. You closed your eyes. Exhaling through your mouth, you felt that trembling growing. Your legs suddenly unsteady. But you didn't fall. His arm wrapped around you and held you close to his body as he slowly lowered you on the bed.
His lips were so incredibly soft as they covered your face with tender kisses. His body was hovering over yours as you lay on your back. You felt its warmth, but not its weight.
His hand touched your face, his long fingers caressed your neck, brushed over your shoulders, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your heated skin. His mouth traveled over your cheekbone to your ear. His breath made you gasp and whimper as the tip of his nose touched that spot you didn't know was so sensitive. Slowly and without any resistance from you, he uncurled your fingers that were wrapped around the towel. He guided one of your hands to his shoulder, and your fingers, like they had their own will, grasped at it, held onto him, as your body arched and a moan escaped your lips when his mouth found the sensitive skin on your neck. His big hand cupped your now exposed breast, kneading it, fumbling it, no longer touching softly. His knee pushed between your legs, parting them. And you felt the pressure at your core as your hips rose to meet him.
Your breathing, slow and loud, was all that could be heard in the room. And then the soft sucking sounds of his lips on your neck, leaving a mark.
Both your hands were on him now. The one hand at his shoulder, grabbing so hard, it was shaking. Your other hand touching his back. The lightest pull from you and he rocked his hips against yours, making you gasp and open your eyes in surprise as you felt his hard length urging against your thigh. Being completely inexperienced, you couldn't quite judge whether it was normal that it was so huge. And your mind was cloudy with all those unknown sensations that you were unable to tell whether this was right when you felt his fingers rub along your folds, when they parted them and pushed inside you.
You tensed up, cried out, as you clenched around the intruding digit. Your hands no longer pulling Rafe closer but trying to push him up, like pushing at an unmovable rock.
You whined as his finger pushed deeper, your face turning to the side, away from him as a tear ran down your cheek. He let out a hissing sound, his mouth close to your neck. His finger remained inside of you but stopped moving further. You already felt so incredibly full. His lips started moving over your skin. He kissed your chin, kissed your cheek, licked at your tears.
“No,” your voice a hoarse whisper, your hand balled into a fist, pressing at his shoulder uselessly, in vain trying to push him off you.
“No,” you said again and that word turned into a moan as you felt something pressing against your most sensitive spot. His thumb rubbed your pearl and your traitorous body reacted by shivering. And your legs parted further. He moved them up, made them bent, giving him room. His finger curled inside you. Your body convulsed. You opened your eyes, but you couldn't see anything clear. You felt your body heating up, sweat covering it. Your hands clutching at Rafe's shirt as you made those noises that didn't sound like coming from you. But they came from you. From something deep inside you. Something Rafe had just started to awake. You bit your lips to make those sounds stop as you felt that throbbing at your core with Rafe's fingers caressing, pushing, rubbing, pinching, curling, thrusting.
His other hand gripped your chin, turned your head and you looked up at him, just for a second, before his lips met yours and he claimed your mouth in a kiss that was nothing like the one you remembered from all those years ago, that tender kiss. This kiss was hungry and fierce, and intoxicating. Your mouth opened for his tongue. He claimed it. And when it pushed inside you, it felt like it was your own hunger. You felt like you were starving as he was devouring you.
Wide-eyed, your face burning with heat, your body aching with an unknown need, you gazed up at him when he broke the kiss, lifting his body, no longer touching you. But you still felt him, felt him on you, felt him inside of you, tasted him in your mouth. He had let go off you for a moment to take off his shirt and his sweatpants.
He was completely naked when he hovered above you, resting on his hands pressed into mattress on either side of you. The muscles in his arms tense and hard. Everything about him was hard. Solid like a rock. He was kneeling between your legs. Your body shaking, shivering as if you were cold when you felt that sweat covering it and that wetness between your legs. You were so much the opposite of him, in every way. You felt it so much at that moment when he just looked down at you. Something in his eyes so harsh that it made you shudder and close your eyes. You shook your head and stopped when his hand touched your face and held it. You opened your eyes. His face only inches away from yours.
“I'm gonna be gentle, alright? I'm gonna be nice.” His lips brushed yours in a tender kiss and your body arched up, despite your hands being balled up into fists and your arms pressed close to your chest as if you were trying to shield yourself.
You felt a movement, felt the bed tilt. And when you opened your eyes, you saw him kneeling in front of you, touching his hard cock, pumping it.
You gasped at the sight. It was even bigger than you had thought from what you had felt earlier. It was too big.
“Just the tip, alright? I won't push it all in. I know you're too delicate,” he said as if he had read your mind – or just saw the fear in your eyes.
He leaned down to kiss you and whisper at your lips.
“Just the tip, I promise. You will like it.”
As if proving his point, your hips moved up on their own and a hot shiver made you moan as his fingers touched your needy core. A smile appeared on his face, not quite a smirk, but you weren't sure anymore what you saw, what you felt, what you wanted. All reason was clouded and still, you knew that this was wrong.
You closed your eyes as he lifted one of your legs.
“Look at me,” his voice dark and so low, you felt a tingling at the back of your neck.
You obeyed and opened your eyes. Your arms were still pressed against your heaving chest, but it was easy for him to move them and place your hands on his shoulders as he lowered himself onto you.
“Look at me,” he said again and your eyes were fixed on his face, watching his features, seeing that little smile, that glint in his eyes, seeing his mouth open, and his face contort the moment his tip parted your folds. At first it felt slick and smooth and then suddenly so painfully rough. The thick tip was stretching you unbearably wide. Your legs automatically pressed against his body, desperately trying to close and shut out the intruder. He pushed them apart and you screamed, screamed out loud at the top of your lungs as he pushed inside you. Too deep, too hard, too rough, too fast.
Waves and waves of stinging pain rushing threw your body, making it convulse and shake, making you whimper and whine, you felt like you were being torn apart. You pushed at his shoulders, pressed at his chest, but his hips kept moving, rocking hard against you. Urging his hard length into you.
“So good,” he muttered between strained breaths. “So tight,” he panted. “All mine,” he growled.
His movements so rough and relentless, he seemed lost in his own pleasure. His eyes fixed on you, but not really seeing you, he seemed like he had forgotten all about you, your part in this, your existence.
“Rafe!” You screamed his name, screamed it at his face, screamed it so loud, your throat hurt.
His eyes flickered and he looked at you, really looked at you. And something changed in his features. For the briefest of moments, he paused, leaned down to kiss your lips, whispering something you didn't understand. And then you felt his fingertip touching that spot his thumb had teased before. Only now it wasn't teasing any longer. You didn't know how or why he knew exactly what to do, but that touch, that movement with his fingertip was all your body needed, all it craved for that moment. Your mouth opened wide as you moaned, then just gasped. The back of your head pressing into the mattress, your eyes rolling back. Your fingernails digging into Rafe's tense muscles at his back, as you were pulling him closer, ever closer, when that pain all of a sudden turned into pleasure, a painful, hot pleasure that left you in a state of rapture. Your body bending, trembling, shaking, as Rafe fucked you through your first ever orgasm.
You heard him groan, an animalistic sound. You felt your walls tensing up in waves and clenching so hard around him, making his thrusts only more ruthless, more forceful, as he took you, took all of you. And as the rush of your fierce high faded, you felt him so intensely. Felt him pushing inside you, filling you, feeling you, breathing on you, touching you, holding you, kissing you – it was like he was melting into you, when all of a sudden he stopped his movements, gazed down at you with hazy eyes, his features tensing up for a moment, and the next, the absolute opposite: all soft and lovingly, so sweet. He lowered his body onto yours and you felt his heavy panting syncing with yours. He kissed your face, breathless. Kissed your lips and after pushing into you a few more times, he pulled out and rolled his body off yours.
You kept lying on your back, next to him. Your legs still apart, knees bent. And you felt the cool breeze from the air-conditioning on your heated body, covered in a film of sweat, yours and his. And between your legs, you felt another kind of throbbing. And something sticky dripping out of you. You shut your legs and winced, rolling on your side, you turned away from him. It was as if reality hit you hard, and despite the fact that you still hadn't composed your breathing, despite the fact that your body wanted to remain in that blissful state, you felt a sudden wave of shame and guilt and something else that hurt even more, even deeper than the burning pain at your core.
At the touch of his hand, you flinched. You didn't want to, but your body curled up and you moved away from him, when in fact, you wanted nothing more than for him to hold you, to tell you that it was alright. That everything was exactly how it should be. That you were safe. With him.
Instead, you felt the bed tilt and you heard him get up and put on his clothes.
You moved your head so you could look up at him, look at him through teary eyes.
He stood in front of the bed, looking down at you. For a moment he seemed to hesitate, as if he wanted to lie down again. Then his features hardened. A frown appeared on his brow. His hands balled into fists, his jaws clenched.
“Now you can lie about that too. When your boyfriend fucks you tonight, you can lie and say it is you first time.” His voice so cold, so hard, it took the air out of your lungs.
And you only exhaled when he had left your room and the door shut behind him and you cried and sobbed and wept.
Tumblr media
a/n: this was kinda intense. Much darker than my recent fics. And so long. But I didn't want to rush it. I needed to write it as it is. I still hope you liked reading it. Reblogs, comments and likes are very much appreciated. btw, it's my birthday today.
xx
2K notes · View notes
solarmorrigan · 5 months
Note
For the angst prompt thing: Steddie and "Don't fucking touch me."
Hello! Thank you very much for sending a prompt, I'm sorry it took me so long to post, but I do think this one is my favorite out of all the fills I've done for this prompt list <3
[No warnings; Unnamed Freak (who apparently got a name in the most recent novel, but I didn't know that at the time) is named Oliver]
Angsty-ish Prompt List
-
“I’m gonna step outside for a minute,” Steve leans in to murmur in Eddie’s ear, even though the music isn’t that loud.
“Yeah, sounds good.” Eddie nods, and only just keeps himself from turning to catch Steve’s mouth in a kiss when he feels the brush of his lips against his ear; it’s not his fault he’s developed some kind of Pavlovian association between having Steve’s mouth anywhere near his skin and receiving kisses – but they do have company.
Said company is just Gareth, Jeff, and Oliver, but still. Eddie has some decorum.
Steve stands from the couch and the arm he’d had slung around Eddie’s shoulders slides away slowly, his hand brushing warm and heavy over the back of Eddie’s neck, thumb stroking once, familiarly, along the side of his throat before disappearing entirely as Steve moves towards the front door. He doesn’t do so great with groups of people in small spaces anymore; the noise gets to him, and the heat generated by so many bodies in close proximity tends to give him a headache, so he takes breaks now and then, just to give his brain a few minutes to unbend.
The door swings open on silent hinges (Steve had attacked it with a can of WD-40 and a look of determination earlier today, insisting he couldn’t stand the squeaking anymore; he’s always doing things like that around the house – little repairs, organizing, picking things up, even though Eddie insists he doesn’t have to. He says he wants to, the endearing little weirdo) and Steve steps out into the cool evening, leaving Eddie and the boys behind in the warm light of the trailer’s main room.
“So,” Jeff says, looking up from his spot on the floor and gesturing vaguely at Eddie with his beer can, “how’s that going for you guys?”
Eddie blinks at him. “How’s what going?”
“The whole thing between you two,” Jeff clarifies, and Eddie raises a skeptical brow at him.
“You wanna talk about me and Steve having sex?” Eddie asks.
Jeff’s nose scrunches in distaste. “What? No.”
“Not ever,” Gareth jumps in.
“I mean…” Oliver says with a shrug, flinching when Gareth pelts him with a balled-up napkin.
“No,” Gareth reiterates.
“I refuse to apologize for simple curiosity,” Oliver sniffs, and Eddie, seated next to him on the couch, gives him a shove.
He’s glad his friends are accepting – supportive, even (he’d like to say he wouldn’t hang out with them if they weren’t, but let’s be real: nerds could be hard to come by in their neck of the woods, and as long as they were the quiet type of homophobic, Eddie would probably still play D&D with them. But he’s glad they’re not), but he does have some boundaries.
Like, one or two, maybe.
“I just meant the whole… dating thing,” Jeff says, taking a sip from his beer. “Because I’ll be honest, I really didn’t see it at first, but it actually seems to be working out.”
“Dating?” Eddie parrots blankly.
“Yeah. You guys are in, like, some kind of never-ending honeymoon phase or some shit,” Gareth says. “Hasn’t it been over two months?”
“Uhhh, no, I think you gentlemen are confused,” Eddie drawls. “Steve and I are not dating.”
This declaration is met with a moment of silence.
“Seriously?” Oliver finally says.
“Yep,” Eddie replies easily. “No relationship shit here. Strictly a friends-with-benefits-type deal.”
“Seriously,” Olver says again, flatly this time.
“Yes, Oliver, seriously,” Eddie huffs, reaching over to give him another shove, only to have his hand pushed away.
“Eddie, he was practically sitting in your lap just now,” Jeff says. “You two are all over each other.”
“Constantly,” Gareth adds.
Eddie shrugs. “It’s not like this is a big couch; we gotta squish. Anyway, Steve’s just a touchy kind of guy.”
“He doesn’t sit like that with any of us,” Gareth points out.
“Yeah, well, you guys aren’t the ones receiving benefits,” Eddie says. “You want him to sit on your lap? You could ask.”
Gareth lets his head hang back with a noise of frustration. “That’s not the point, and you know it.”
“Don’t you two go on dates?” Jeff asks. “I’ve seen you at the movies. You talk about going out to eat, doing other shit…”
“Yeah, see, that’s the friends part of friends with benefits,” Eddie snarks. “Friends hang out sometimes, I’ve been told. We are all, in fact, hanging out right now, but that doesn’t mean I’m dating any of you.”
“You don’t see the way he looks at you?” Oliver asks, and Eddie can’t help but scoff.
He appreciates the fact that Oliver is passionate about pretty much anything he does, but it also means he’s given to romanticizing. He doesn’t usually manage to drag Jeff or Gareth in with him, though.
“Pretty sure he looks at me like a friend, because that’s what we are.” Eddie rolls his eyes before offering a smarmy little grin. “I mean, I’m sure he looks at me as an exceptionally attractive friend, but that’s it.”
“Genuinely can’t tell if you’re fucking with us, man,” Jeff says, rolling his eyes.
“Genuinely, I am not,” Eddie promises, taking the last viable swallow from his beer before getting up and heading for the kitchen, wiggling his empty can at the others with a raised eyebrow in question. Gareth raises his own near-empty can with a shrug and Eddie nods. “Look,” he says as he ducks towards the fridge, “Steve isn’t the kinda guy you have a relationship with, anyway, you know?”
Eddie doesn’t mean this in a negative way, just as a matter of fact. Steve just doesn’t seem to be a relationship kind of guy. Nancy had been something of an outlier, in how long she and Steve had lasted, and it had become clear after the dust from the Upside Down had settled that he really doesn’t have any interest in pursuing her further. Just the other day, he’d mentioned to Eddie how difficult relationships can be, and about how glad he is they have their thing together instead.
“Being with you is just… easy,” Steve had said; he hadn’t been looking at Eddie at the time, his face instead pillowed on Eddie’s chest, hair sticking to his naked skin where the sweat was still cooling from their last round, but Eddie could see the edge of a smile on his lips.
And Eddie doesn’t have much experience with relationships himself, but he knows that being friends with Steve is easy and that the sex feels equally easy and that the way he’d agreed with Steve and carded his fingers through his hair had sent Steve right to sleep with that same smile still in place.
Easy.
Now, Eddie shoves his head into the fridge and reaches for the beers that have somehow gotten pushed to the back. “It’s nothing major, okay?” he calls back towards the living room.
“Eddie…” Gareth calls back, an edge to his voice.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.” Eddie waves vaguely, making sure to grab a second beer. “Anyway, Steve’s a good friend, and he’s really hot, and we’re just having fun.”
The bang of the front door against the frame startles Eddie so badly he nearly smacks his head on the underside of the freezer as he stands, a beer clutched in each hand like he might be able to use them as projectiles.
There is no threat, though – just Steve, who had apparently failed to catch the screen door before it had shut too quickly behind him. He doesn’t seem to have noticed; he’s just standing there, staring at Eddie, color rising high in his cheeks, eyes wide and shocked, like he’s just been slapped.
Concern wells up from Eddie’s gut, and he opens to his mouth to ask what’s wrong when Steve finally speaks.
“Yeah,” he croaks, “I’m not having fun.”
Eddie’s brows furrow in confusion, the beginnings of cold dread trickling into his veins well ahead of any conscious thought.
“I think I– I think I should go,” Steve says.
He grabs his keys from the side table by the door, where they’ve lived next to Eddie’s and Wayne’s for the last few months whenever he’s been at the house, and then he’s gone again, the screen door banging shut once more behind him.
And Eddie has no idea what just happened, but he knows it wasn’t good. He drops the beers on the counter and bolts out the door after Steve.
Steve is nearly to his car by the time Eddie scrambles down the front steps, and he’s paying absolutely no attention when Eddie calls after him.
“Steve,” Eddie tries again, stumbling to a stop right behind him as he jams his keys into the driver’s side lock. “Steve, for fuck’s sake, what–” he reaches out, wrapping one hand around Steve’s bicep, and Steve jerks out of his grip.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” Steve snaps.
Eddie pulls his hand back, but doesn’t step away, entirely baffled by the sudden turn the evening has taken. “What the hell happened back there?”
Steve goes still, grip going lax on his keys. “I heard what you said, Eddie.”
“About – about what? Are you mad I was talking to them about us sleeping together? Because, Steve, they already knew,” Eddie insists, a little incredulous. “You said you were fine with them knowing! You were practically feeling me up in front of them!”
“I don’t give a shit if they know we’re having sex!” Steve hisses, finally whirling around to look at Eddie. “I meant the rest. About how I’m not the kind of guy you have a relationship with.”
Eddie’s stomach sinks. He hadn’t realized that was such a sensitive subject. “I – shit, I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings, I just didn’t think you wanted–”
“About how we’re just having fun,” Steve cuts in, and if he’d sounded raw before, his voice is practically ground down to nothing now.
That brings Eddie up short. “…aren’t we?” he asks after a moment.
Steve says nothing.
“I mean, shit, Steve, it’s not like we’re in a relationship,” Eddie says, offering a little laugh, because even Steve would have to admit that the idea is a little silly.
Except.
Except Steve just glances away, staring at the ground beside Eddie’s feet, and – oh, shit.
“Oh, shit.”
Steve is still unnervingly silent, one arm curled around his middle while the other hand comes up to pinch briefly at the bridge of his nose. He still won’t look at Eddie.
“You… you thought we were,” Eddie says dumbly, and Steve shrugs.
“Can you blame me? We spend all our time together, Eddie. I’m here more than I’m at my own house, I think I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve slept in my own bed in the last month. We go out and do things together, I try to keep things nice around the house because I want Wayne to like me, we have, like, a lot of sex, and– we… I mean, we kiss and touch and just – do shit like that even when it doesn’t lead anywhere.” Steve shrugs helplessly, finally looking up. “I mean, Christ, Eddie, what did you think we were doing?”
“I thought we were friends!” Eddie insists. Steve throws him an incredulous look and Eddie amends, “With benefits!”
“Right.” Steve’s expression flattens back out, going cold and hard and unlike anything Eddie’s become used to from him. “Because I’m not the kind of guy you’d want to have a relationship with.”
“I said that because I thought you didn’t want to be in a relationship!” Eddie snaps. “It’s not like you stay with anyone for very long, so I just assumed you didn’t want to be with anyone.”
Some of the ice retreats from Steve’s face, leaving a watering kind of hurt in its stead. “Do you listen to me at all when I talk?”
“What? Of course I do!” Eddie might have gotten turned around in certain respects, but he will not have his merits as a friend called into question; of course he listens to Steve.
“Are you sure? Because I talk about you an awful lot. I talk about doing things with you, about doing things in the future with you,” Steve says pointedly, “about how I want to stay with you.”
And Eddie had wanted Steve to stay with him, too. He’s just been thinking – well, he’d thought it was because they get along so well, that Steve had wanted to stick around. That it had only made sense.
“We never talked about… being anything else,” Eddie says, the protest a little weak even to his own ears. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember that.”
Steve pulls a sharp breath in, pinching at the bridge of his nose again; he leaves his hand there this time, eyes scrunched shut. “Just a few days ago, I told you how much I liked being with you. How good and how easy it felt compared to anyone else I’ve ever been with,” he says, barely more than a rough whisper. “And you said…”
I like being with you, too.
Eddie had said that.
He’d meant that he likes being around Steve, likes being his friend, definitely likes having sex with him, but he’d said it while combing his fingers through Steve’s hair, while cuddled up with him in bed, and – okay, yes, he can see the mixed signals there. He can see where Steve might have gotten the idea that they didn’t have an arrangement, that they were just together.
“I– I didn’t mean–”
“Obviously,” Steve snaps, dropping his hand from his face and turning back towards his car.
Eddie tsks, frustrated, and reaches out to grab Steve’s wrist – not pulling, just trying to keep his attention.
“Don’t,” Steve warns him, pulling back from his grasp for a second time.
“I didn’t mean to lead you on,” Eddie tries desperately. “I really… I really didn’t.”
“Yeah. I can see that. But Eddie…” Steve is quiet for a moment, posture so tense and still that Eddie suspects he’s not even breathing. “I’m probably the best-qualified asshole around to tell you that you really have to fucking think about how what you’re doing affects the people around you.”
Somehow, that stings more than any screamed insult Steve could have thrown at him.
“Steve…”
“I’ll come get my shit out of your place tomorrow,” Steve says, low and sharp, before getting into his car and slamming the door behind him.
After that, Eddie has no choice but to step back or get run over, and he watches until Steve’s taillights are no longer visible.
He can hear the hissing of some whispered conversation just beyond the door as he trudges back up the front steps, but his friends fall conspicuously quiet the moment he steps inside.
“…hey,” Gareth finally ventures after several seconds of awkward, sticky silence.
“Hey,” Eddie says flatly.
“Do you… want us to stay?” Jeff asks.
Slowly, Eddie shakes his head. “I think I should… I need to– think about shit.”
The boys all nod, throwing him variously sympathetic glances and clapping him on the shoulder on their way out. Oliver pauses, as if he’s going to say something, but Gareth gives him a shove and gets him out the door before he has the chance. Probably for the best.
Eddie feels numb as he trudges back towards his room, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.
He flops down on his bed, face landing in a pillow that smells entirely too much like Steve’s shampoo. Probably because it’s on the side of the bed that Steve always takes. Next to the nightstand with the small stack of sports magazines that definitely aren’t Eddie’s. And the spare pair of glasses that also isn’t Eddie’s.
With a low tug in his gut, Eddie realizes how much of Steve’s stuff has crept into his room, into the trailer, into his life – how much Steve has become a part of his life, how much of Eddie’s day has been built around him, how much he’s come to lean on his presence, has come to want him there.
And Steve is going to take it all back sometime soon. Take all of his things away before he removes himself from Eddie’s life, too, because Eddie hadn’t been thinking and he hadn’t been careful and he hadn’t realized–
Eddie’s pretty sure he just broke up with Steve.
He’s also pretty sure he hadn’t wanted to.
His main consolation, as he curls up on his side, nose still buried in Steve’s pillow, is that as soon as Robin hears what happened (and she will hear, he has no doubt), she’ll probably come murder him.
At least he won’t have to wallow for long.
Part 2
1K notes · View notes
kaiijo · 1 year
Text
[12:17 AM] — FUSHIGURO MEGUMI X FEM! READER
Tumblr media Tumblr media
gojo knows that, as a teacher, he’s responsible for all of his students and what goes on. he’s also responsible for enforcing rules, such as no boys in girls dorms and vice versa.
gojo’s about to take a walk to the kitchens to raid some of the cake nanami brought earlier but he stops when he hears footsteps and hushed voices. no one could be stupid enough to sneak onto the campus of jujutsu tech while gojo was there and think they’d live to see another day.
out of the darkness and into the dim lights outside the dorms, gojo sees you and megumi stumbling along, hands running over each others bodies and little giggles leaving your mouth in between (and during) the ardent kisses the two of you exchange.
gojo tilts his head up to the moon and weighs his options. he could just teleport over there, scare the shit out of the two of you, and send megumi back to his dorm or he could ignore it, let the two of you be normal teens for once, and eat nanami’s delicious homemade cake.
gojo thinks about megumi: about his childhood, how serious and stern he’s always been, how he’s always had to be that way. he thinks about both of you and how much horror and evil you faced everyday that you didn’t ever ask for. none of you did.
he glances back at the two of you as you fumble with your keys to open your door, megumi’s hands on your waist, pressing insistent kisses down your neck with a smile. he never thought megumi would ever let himself have fun, would never give himself that opportunity and that time and that grace, much less get a girlfriend.
so, gojo decides that maybe, just this once, he can turn a blind eye to megumi slipping into your room at about a quarter past midnight.
but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t going to tease the shit out of you tomorrow.
4K notes · View notes
irisintheafterglow · 6 months
Note
Can I request a racer!bakugo showing off his two most precious things after winning a big race, the trophy and his girl pleaseee?
THIS IS SO CUTE I LOVE LOVE LOVE <33 also i can't find it but this is definitely inspired by that one bakugo fic where he's doing a vogue interview about the things he can't leave the house or live without (if anyone knows the link for it please please let me know because it's one of my all-time favorites)
Tumblr media
"oh, look! it's bakugo! hey, man!"
"the hell are you doing outside my house?" the interviewer laughs nervously behind the camera, but your boyfriend's scowl doesn't move. it's a wonder that he's still viewed positively in the public eye despite his brash personality. you pinch the bridge of your nose with your fingers and avert your eyes from the second-floor window, sending another prayer begging for him to behave. the interview took place in his own home, for crying out loud. shouldn't he be the most comfortable in his safest space?
the answer is, unfortunately, no.
"i'm uh, here for your '73 questions' interview with vogue. d'you mind if i step inside with you?" he grunts reluctantly in response, swinging the front door open unceremoniously. you pity the poor guy who had to follow your husband around and chuck questions at him like armed grenades; there was always a chance that he would blow up. "so, where were you coming from?"
"grocery store. you want a drink?" good. at least he remembers his manners. "we got water, juice...i ain't giving you alcohol. i don't even know who the hell you are." never mind.
you spend the next 12-something minutes following their one-sided conversation around the house, careful to stay out of sight and silently begging your boyfriend to at least act a little warmer. the only time he does open up, much to the delight of fans, is when he's talking about you.
"'the things most precious to me?' i don't fuckin' know," you can hear him say plainly. you'd resigned to your shared bedroom to finish up some work when you heard the telltale calls of babe, c'mere! babe. babe. babe! from downstairs. with a huff, you set down your pen and make your way into the living room, where you see him holding his latest first-place trophy. it shines under the afternoon sun coming through the backyard windows. the camera pans to you in surprise and you thank your earlier self for wearing something other than pajamas.
"babe, c'mere," he insists and you roll your eyes in exasperation. his arm slips around your waist and you're suddenly hyperaware of the camera that's going to post your image to millions of people. "alright, nerd, you asked me what i wanna show off? they're right here," he boasts proudly and your face starts to heat up. "got my badass lover, my big-ass trophy, and i don't need anything else," he says with unexpected tenderness. "you got that?"
"y-yeah, i got it," the interviewer stutters out. "uh, thank you-"
"the hell do you look so nervous for? i don't fuckin' bite," he says and the man stammers again. "i don't know why i bother doing all this shit," he murmurs in your ear.
"this is why outlets are so scared to interview you, kats," you whisper and he shrugs indifferently. "you scare reporters too easily."
"don't care. i just wanna relax and spend my day off with you. i'm too tired to be dealing with this shit," he grumbles and you laugh under your breath. "baby?"
"hmm?"
"can you do me a big favor?" you narrow your eyes suspiciously while the cameraman fumbles about with his equipment, packing up to leave.
"depends on the favor," you say carefully. "will i need to compromise my morals?" your boyfriend barks out a laugh, and the reporter startles.
"no, no. nothing like that," he reassures you and drops his volume so that only you can hear him. "baby, sweetheart, love of my life?"
"yes, katsuki?"
"please get this man the fuck out of our house."
Tumblr media
if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)
2K notes · View notes