#truth be told i did not know what to believe cause of what people around me said and it felt conflicting at the time?? if it makes sense?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tonkatsubowl · 11 days

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truth to be told, it takes a lot for aventurine to fully trust someone, let alone loving them.

the man had already lost so much, including his own sense of self. to be stabbed in his back, to be betrayed, to be mocked and used and made fun of—he was used to it. it would take aventurine a while for him to feel comfortable being vulnerable with someone, considering he didn't trust anyone in particular.

though the man wore a gorgeous smile, wandering through the streets of penacony, it wasn't a genuine smile, but a mask he put up. expensive clothing, his beautiful countenance and the abundance of money he liked to toss around... it was just a mask he put up. it was also for the sake of his own reputation, too. especially when you were directly under diamond herself.

the main suspect of his suffering. and the cause of his success. a double edged sword that he walked upon. his own life was theirs. a mere toy, a mere chess piece to gamble with.

...but when he met you, he was confused. afraid, even. but he put up a fake smile, some flirtatious words here and there, but the man did not trust you, nor did he believe you would be willing to stay by his side for an eternity for aeons know what.

when he met you, you were kind, understanding. you were a little stubborn, too, and humorous. you never failed to have aventurine laugh at your cute little jokes, and you never failed to protect him, whether it was against the ipc's mocking him in his name, or against nightmare infested monsters that dared to consume his flesh within a dream.

he was terrified of you.

he didn't know what you were doing to him.

every time he saw you, he felt... weak. vulnerable around you. and he hated it. he loathed it. he hated everything about how you were making him feel, as though you were a curse that came to haunt him due to the sins of his past.

every time he saw you, his heart began to palpitate, his chest aching. and it got worse whenever he saw you so happy with someone else. but... maybe you were better off with someone? everyone kept leaving him, after all, whether it was death or it was simply due to some gambling... game-thing. a business transaction, even.

but you stayed.

you stayed throughout the hardships he faced.

why?

just why?

why, of all people, did you want to stay with him? a once upon a time slave, now a business man specializing in manipulation, gambling (an addiction, to put it), and flirtatious words to soothe the mind so he could win his way.

even through everything, you were still here. that was when he decided to seek out a certain doctor.

he sat across from him, forcing a smile across his lips, but the doctor could see it. the mask that aventurine donned himself with.

"you're in love."

aventurine's eyes looked up to the other, "you must be misreading your books like usual."

"you came here... to me, for your thoughts."

aventurine chuckled to himself, nervously, even.

"love? i haven't heard that word in ages."

"it is a complicated thing. especially with how you can be, gambler. a man who is unpredictable, keen to the eye, and... well, unfamiliar with the positive things."

aventurine cleared his throat, toying with the golden coin in his hand. he purses his lips, his mask wearing off for a moment.

"...now, dr. ratio, i am not doubting your knowledge and intelligence, don't get me wrong. i just don't believe that it truly is such a strange thing called... love."

the genius sighed, "you complained to me the other day that you couldn't stand seeing (y/n) talking to others, smiling and laughing. i recall that i was not assigned to be your therapist, here. the rest should be obvious, but it appears you're too stubborn to catch on... or rather, you're unfamiliar with this feeling. this term. love."

bullseye. it was as though ratio had called him out completely. for once, the gambler was silent. here, he would try to make little comments here and there, some jokes there and wherever but... the man was actually silent.

"... what do you suggest i do, then?"

dr ratio leans in, resting both elbows on his knees, eyes fixated on the gambler's own pristine eyes.

"if you are comfortable with it, move at your own pace if you wish to pursue. this is ultimately your choice. you can pursue these feelings, or you may leave it. there is no right or wrong answer, here. this all depends on you and what you wish to do. love is about being vulnerable with each other. accepting each other at their lowest. being for one another. your lover is considered to be your number one companion, truthfully."

aventurine was quiet.

"what is your gambler's intuition?"

a sigh left aventurine's lips. he stood, flipping the coin in his hand, before showing the result of heads or tails.

"...i suppose i'll make a bet with myself. one that doesn't cost money or the finest of gold and jewelry."

the genius watched as the other male got up from his seat, retrieving his sunglasses from his expensive outfit, before placing them on. "i'll make a gamble, to be specific, about this."

"then i wish you the best of luck, aventurine."

months had past, and the two of you were already in a relationship. it had been months, but the man didn't dare to tell you, 'i love you' just yet. as a matter of fact, those words were terrifying for him. what if he lost you after he said that? what if something were to happen to you? he was terrified of saying it, as he wasn't ready yet.

dr. ratio was right—he was paranoid to the bone but hid it. yet, aventurine played a few cards and decided to gamble this relationship with you, to see if it could work out. and so far, everything was well.

you were understanding, kind, beautiful, patient... the perfect partner someone could ask for.

but it also felt undeserving.

did... he deserve this love? did he truly deserve to experience the harmony that his heart fluttered to? he began to doubt. then he spiraled into a panic.

he began to sleep restlessly at night, rendering himself vulnerable to nightmares and the instability of his mind.

... but you were there, throughout all of it.

his eyes shot open, the familiar warmth of your hand gently cupped at his left cheek. he had fallen asleep on the couch, reading a long text presented to him by his supervisor, which was mainly just work and business related things. he didn't realize he had fallen asleep, and at first was confused when he woke up.

his phone was placed securely on the table, and there was a blanket draped over him. the air conditioning was turned on for his comfort, and before him was a tray full of biscuits, tea... for him to savor in once he woke from his nightmare.

"are you... alright?" you asked. "you were having a bad dream."

his eyes traveled to your voice, finding your concerned expression, his palpitating heart now steadying at an easy rate. he began to breathe, his eyes softening.

you were here, at his most vulnerable state, concerned for his well-being. he was silent, but he immediately reeled you in for a gentle hug. he was reluctant, but he wanted to feel the rest of your warmth. your head was buried into his chest, and you could hear his heart slow down. he closed his eyes, calming down from his inner demons.

"...you're okay." you murmur, brushing the top of his hair with your hands. "i'm here for you."

you didn't know much about him at all, truth to be told. the man wasn't really comfortable sharing his past with you, yet. he was a locked chest, and in order to find the key to his past, you had to be patient. time was key, but whatever demons he was facing at night... he knew you would be there.

he had doubts, at first, and always believed that he'd always be alone.

but... you were a different story.

"...thank you," he whispers onto your ear, cradling you close to his chest, "for being here."

your gaze softens, and you were silent for a moment. this was the first time you've seen aventurine like this. so vulnerable, so... reliant on you. but you were okay. because everyone has their own weakness. not everyone was perfect, and you understood that.

"... don't thank me." you say, closing your eyes, taking in his scent as the two of you nuzzled up against each other on the couch, "please don't. it's my job—my duty, as your other half, to be here for you."

dr. ratio's words echoed into his brain, reminding him of what love truly is. being there for one another, no matter what.

"you haven't been here?"

months past, and aventurine is presenting a beautiful, scenic view of penacony for you. the night sky was phenomenal, and the beautiful sounds of crickets and late night critters were no more than music to your ears. you seat yourself at the bench, whilst the gambler was walking around, admiring the view... taking pictures, even.

"i haven't, but now i am." you say, flashing a smile.

aventurine took some time off today to take you out on a date. the man had more than enough sick and vacation leave to do this for you, and it's the first time where he actually used it.

he sits next to you, admiring the night sky, and the sight of you above all else.

"it's a beautiful sight. i come here when i want to... relax."

your gaze softens, and your hand comes towards his own. digits intertwine, and you murmur something, audible for your lover's ears.

"thank you for taking me here. to your safe place."

aventurine looks over to you, puzzled.

"... safe place, huh? didn't expect to... call it that. but i guess that's what you can say for this spot. i can feel at peace here." he nods slowly, looking back to the scenic view.

"... it's a spot where you can feel vulnerable and be okay with it," you say, instantly catching his attention, "and i want to thank you for trusting me to bringing me here. i really, really do appreciate it."

ratio's words echo through his mind once more, the pad of his thumb suddenly reaching over, gently lifting your chin. he leans in, granting you a subtle kiss, in which you've returned.

"... may... i be vulnerable, once again?"

he lowered his guard, his voice coming to a whisper.

"you... can always be vulnerable around me. i want to be your safe person." you respond, in a whisper.

"..." he was silent. "i love you."

it was the first time, too, that he said such a thing to you. such strong words that let your heart skip a few beats. your face comes to a faint, vermillion flush, but you were happy nonetheless. you smile, cupping each side of his face.

"i love you too."

#aventurine x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr aventurine

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justagirlwholikesadam · 4 months

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The American: Welcome Back!

Remus Lupin x American! Reader

Summary: Sirius slips out a name Harry has never heard of before, He wants to get to bottom of it and wants to know who is this so called, Yankee.

A/n: Not sure of doing more on this. It's up to the readers. I had this idea brewing in my head. Enjoy! -L

Warning: SFW, fuff, angst, tonks doesn't get the hint, Harry finds out he has a aunt, we are with remus because why not, saying the lord's name in vain.

Word Count: 4.1K

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The day was long and Harry was utterly exhausted. There were some days where he didn't even want to get up from bed. He was tired. Tired of everything that had recently happened. Voldemort was coming back and he had an army. He wanted to join The Order of Phoenix, Sirius had backed him up during dinner at Grimmauld Place. The place that once held the Black Family is now used for The Order to have their meeting.

Roaming around Grimmauld Place after dinner, Harry found himself in the room that held the family tree of the Black Family. That’s what Sirius told him when he found him inside looking at the walls.

“My mother did that after I ran away. She was a charming woman.” Sirius told him as he pointed at a burn mark above his name on the wall. Harry can see the sadness and anger in his eyes. Sirius hated his family for their wicked ways and their outdated ideas.

“I was always welcomed at the Potters.” Sirius answered Harry when the boy asked him where he went after he left home at the age of sixteen.

“We all were.” Sirius said as his eyes drifted to the end of the room, there was a faint smile on his face. “Your grandparents were so kind to everyone. Even to me and to Yankee.”

“Yankee?” Harry asked Sirius. His Godfather’s blue eyes widened when he realized he said it outloud.

“Another friend of the group. Remus hasn't mentioned it to you?” Harry shook his head.

“Another secret added to the list of secrets everyone keeps from me. How grand.” Harry said with a huff as he turned away from Sirius. He understood his godson. He didn't want Harry to feel that way. Before Sirius can speak out the front door opens and he can hear people walking inside.

“It's probably the Order. We should greet them. We will speak about this.” Sirius said, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

Sirius walked, Harry was behind him as they made their way down the hall to the kitchen where they saw Tonks and Remus. By the look on Remus’ face, Sirius knew Remus was annoyed. He chuckled when he saw Tonks being a little bit too touchy to his best mates liking. Harry watched as he sat down on the kitchen table as Remus dogged a touch from Tonks and made his way to sit across from Harry.

“Harry.” Remus greets him as he sits down by the far end of the table where Harry sat. Sirius quickly makes his way to the only seat next to Remus.

“Tonks, I believe Molly wanted to speak with you about something.” Sirius said over his shoulder at her, who just then realized she was too late to sit next to Remus. She rolled her eyes but nodded before walking away from the kitchen. Harry kept his mouth shut as he looked at Sirius and Remus who were having a silent conversation with their eyes.

“This wouldn't be happening if you just told everyone the truth, Moony.” Sirius finally said putting his elbows on the table.

Remus took a drink of his tea and glanced over at Harry.

“Tonks is a lovely lass but she doesn't understand the word NO.” Harry knew too well about Tonks' crush on Remus. He had seen the girl fawn over his ex werewolf teacher before. Remus always lets her down gently, telling her he was too old for her and he doesnt think it's a good idea because he's a werewolf.

“Well her and Molly are in the same boat.” Sirius commented, making Remus agree with him since Molly was the first to add the idea into Tonks' mind.

“Maybe Yankee can help.” Harry mumbled as he looked down at the table not noticing how Remus' face changed.

“What?” Remus asked in a deep voice causing Harry to look up. Looking over Sirius who had a grimace look, his heart fell to his stomach.

“Where did you hear that name?” Harry cursed at himself, calling himself an idiot for throwing that name out. He wasn’t expecting Remus’ reaction. Remus' eyes darken for a second.

He did it because he had got annoyed by the fact that no one wanted to tell him anything. He knew it was true because of the look on Sirius’ face when he told them at dinner about what Voldemort wants. Molly had interrupted Sirius, telling him that Harry is just a boy and that he doesn’t need to know any of this.

“My fault, Moony. It came out when I told Harry about his grandparents.” Sirius said, looking over at Remus.

“Didn't we say-” “I know.” Sirius cuts him off.

Before Remus could speak again, Sirius waved his hand at Remus. “Do remember, I have kept it a secret for 12 years. That counts for something and Harry should know about his cool badass aunt.”

‘Aunt? Cool? Badass?’ Harry repeats to himself. Remus takes another sip and looks at Harry over the rim of the teacup. Looking over at Sirius, who is staring at him with pleading eyes to not be mad. Remus lets out a sigh.

“My wife is indeed a cool badass, isn't she?” Remus asked while giving Sirius a smirk. His pal smiled and bumps his shoulders with him before looking over at Harry.

“Wife?” Harry asked, looking between Remus and Sirius. “But you don't have-” Remus brings a hand to his neck and pulls on a golden chain under his sweater and shows it to Harry. There was a golden wedding band at the end of the chain.

“Is she-ddd-dead?” Harry asked in a stutter. Sirius shakes his head at Harry and he doesn't know why he felt relief. “I spoke to her two days ago. She made it safely to California after being stationed in New York for two years.” Remus said.

“In America? New York City, the states?” Harry asked, surprised. The two men infront of Harry nodded, smiling at the young boy's shocked face.

“Why would she leave? She's your wife.”

“She left because she is an American and they needed people. Hence the nickname, Yankee.” Harry still looked confused.

Sirius leans forward. “We aren't the only Order, Harry. Voldemort has gone as far as letting other Death Eaters go to the States to recruit more. Yankee is a member of our Order as well as the American’s Order. She is fighting as we are speaking."

“Wow.” Harry said after a few seconds.

“Does she know about me?” Sirius lets out a chuckle as Remus just smiles at Harry.

“Knows you?! She wiped your behind when you were just a babe. Remus here too.” Sirius smacks Remus’ back then turns serious to Harry.

“As the godfather, I had much more important things to do with you then wiping your behind.” Remus rolls his eyes at Sirius.

“Like buying him a broom when he was just a couple of days old.” Remus said with a laugh.

“Sirius would watch us change you as he stood by the door of your room. Harry, Sirius is willing to do anything for you but he just couldn't change your diaper even if it was with magic. The moment he saw we were done. Sirius would grab you and announce there were official and important things to do with you.” Harry just smiled bright as he listened to Remus' story.

“Yeah! They were important.” Sirius shouts playfully.

“Watching the telly with Harry isn't that important.”

“I would show him quidditch matches, like I said, an important matter.” Their laughter quicked down after a few minutes.

“She loves you so much. We both do.” Remus said softly, dropping his gaze from Harry after Harry caught it.

Years thinking he was alone and the only family he had hated him had taken a toll on Harry. There was so much abuse he had put up with and even when the world around him was crumbling down with everything that was going on. He felt happy that there were people who loved him. People he can consider his family. Harry thought it was only Sirius but he just gained an uncle and an aunt. His little family was growing.

“Why keep it a secret, then?” Harry asked. “It will help to get rid of Tonks” The young boy nodded.

“She’s wanted.” Sirius answered him, making Harry frown. Remus leans over the table. “Yankee is a powerful witch and dont think I'm just saying this because she's my wife but she might even be in Dumbledore’s level of magic. She had gone up with him once and almost won.”

“Who wants her so bad that it must be kept in secret?"

“The Dark Lord himself, at first it was the Death Eaters because she was in their house.”

“She was Slytherin?” Harry asked in a shout as he rose up from his chair. Sirius and Remus glance over at each other knowing all too well of this reaction when people found out what house you were in while you were at school.

“She wasn't like them. Different from everyone. She was the only American in Hogwarts in our time.” Sirius said.

“I don't believe it.” Harry said. Remus stood up and grabbed his empty tea cup.

“She was different from them. That we must say. We say that because she had so many reasons to turn bad. School and her home life back in the States weren’t a happy place for her. If she had gone bad, I wouldn't be angry at her.” Harry let Remus’ words sink in.

“You said she went up with Dumbledore once, they fought didn't they? She almost won.” Both men smiled at Harry.

“That fight was…” Sirius trails off then looks at Remus. “How old are you again?” Remus asked.

“Fifteen.” Harry answered. Remus nods at him. “You were a year old when your parents died. That was 14 years ago.” Harry rose a brow and pointed at himself.

“Fight was about me?” Remus nods.

“Dumbledore wanted to give you to the Dursley since they were your real family. I couldn't do it, I was broken and was sent to Azkaban. Remus and Yankee fought hard for you.” Sirius said looking over at Remus who held his gaze at the ground with the cup in his hands.

“They wanted to adopt you. Dumbledore refused and Yankee lost it saying that they were your real family.”

“She whipped her wand out and pointed it at him. Minerva almost fainted. Had to hold her as they dueled.” Remus said reminiscing the way he held the woman as he watched his wife duel with the most powerful wizard.

“Dumbledore, of course, won. He had more experience with magic and dueling. He was sweating though at the end and had mentioned to her that he hasn't done that for years.” Remus told them as he placed the teacup in the sink and walked back to the kitchen table.

“Wow.” Harry said once more as he smiled at them.

"What's wow?” Tonks asked as she walked into the room with Molly and a few other members behind them.

“Nothing, love. Lets have some tea, everyone.” Sirius said as the members walked inside while Remus put the kettle on with more water.

Harry found himself in Sirius' old room the next day. Sirius allowed him too, telling him to take any clothes he sees fit. Sirius had told Harry after the war they will be able to be a family again. Sirius was going to renovate the house, make it new and make it a real house to be filled with a loving family. Harry found some jumpers to his liking and folded them on the bed as he continued with his search. He looks over at the bookcases and glances over the covers. As he watches the books, he sees a paper sticking out between the hardcover books. The edge of the paper was out and carefully Harry started to pull it with his thumb and index finger, it was a black and white photo. He looks at the back to see black cursive writing on it.

Yankee and Moony’s Honeymoon - NYC 1978

Flipping it over, he saw Remus holding a girl in his arms. Remus looked so young and had less scars on his face. His hair was shaggy and he had a mustache.

Harry had to admit, you look beautiful in Remus’ arms. You were smiling and as the picture moved, you looked up at Remus who then gave you a kiss. Both of you looked ahead and the picture repeated itself. Hearing footsteps coming up the stairs, Harry quickly hides the picture in between the folded jumpers. He was sure Sirius wouldn't mind, if he took a picture of his uncle and aunt. Harry only had his parents’ picture. He would like to add this next to them.

After his charges were dropped for using magic out of school, Harry found himself thinking about Moony and Yaknee as he made his way back to Hogwarts for another year. He wanted to know so he found himself in the library, looking at old yearbooks and even wandering in the hallway of famous wizards and students. He was about to walk away when he noticed a case at the far end. Looking up he noticed it was a case of The Triwizard Tournament, 1976.

Harry thought they shut it down in 1971 due to the death toll being high. Perhaps, this was kept secret. He looked at the items on the glass case and stopped when he saw a familiar faze. It was you, looking at the bottom he read your name out loud. His eyes widened as he saw the picture moving. You were selected to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. He can see the green Slytherin uniform you wore and on the bottom, he reads the rest of the names of the competitors.

Looking at the rest of the photos framed in the case, he froze when he saw the trophy and right next to it there's a picture of you holding the trophy. You look like you've been through hell and Harry could see your clothes were dirty and ripped. Your face was dirty and he could see the dried blood on your forehead. He started to laugh when he saw you doing a rock and roll hand gesture while sticking your tongue out at the camera. It seems you had a happier ending then him. He feels himself down at the thought of Cedric's death.

Flying to London on Thestrals was the last thing Harry thought would happen but it worked. He and his friends, Dumbledore's army, made their way to the Ministry of Magic in an attempt to rescue Sirius Black since he had a vision of it. He had to save his Godfather.

Walking inside Harry recovers the object that Voldemort is after, a bottled prophecy with his name on it. Death Eaters and Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix, ambush them. Harry felt like crying when Lucius revealed that Harry's vision of Sirius being tortured was a ruse to lure him there, this was a trap and now all of them were being held captive.

“Give it to me.” Lucius snapped at Harry. He tried his best to ignore the taunting Bellatrix gave to Neville as she held her wand to his head.

‘DON’T!” Neville yelled as she grabbed a fist full of his hair pulling his head back exposing his neck.

Harry can hear Luna let out a sob as a Death Eater grabbed her by the neck. Harry didn't want to get his friends hurt because of him. So many people have gotten hurt because of him. Giving Lucius the prophecy, they heard a whoosh sound. Harry's eyes widen when he looks over Lucius’ shoulder.

“Get away from my godson.” Sirius said to Lucius before punching him straight in the face. Harry took a step back as one by one the members of the Order came to rescue them. They fought with the Death Eaters. Remus ran with Ginny and Ron, he lets out a shout as he disarmed the Death Eater in front of him.

“Good one, James!” Remus froze as Sirius yelled as he fought with Lucius. Time seemed to slow down as Lucius was shot back and Remus saw Bellatrix appearing out of nowhere casting an Avada Kedavra at Sirius. Remus can see the spell coming out of her wand as a light casted behind Harry. His mouth dropped when he saw you behind Harry with your own wand in hand.

Sirius was pushed by the spell you caused, Bellatrix’s spell passed him hitting the wall behind them. Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and was pushed back. He looked up to see you in the flesh. You let out a shout and pointed at Bellatrix hitting her square in the chest with a Stupefy.

“LET’S GO!” He hears you scream out loud as Sirius grabs him by the arm. Remus joins them with Ginny and Ron as the rest bring the children to the center while you hit the other Death Eaters covering for them.

Harry felt Remus grab his shoulder as the rest huddled together. You raised your hands up with your wand and shouted, “Traicere!”

Harry felt like he was flying for a second before he was dropped down on the ground like a sack of potatoes. He found himself flat on his face on the concert ground. Looking up, some members of The Order were standing while others were laying on the ground like his friends were.

“Blimey!” Ron shouted as he got on his knees and wiped his face. Everyone turned when they heard Sirius let out a laugh. Harry looks over to see you hugging Sirius as Remus walks behind you.

“Y/n!” Remus said as you let go of Sirius and hugged Remus. “The fuck?!” Harry hears Tonks' curse behind him as they watch you kiss Remus on the lips. Remus held your face in his hands as he kissed you deeply.

“They haven't changed.” Sirius said, walking to Harry and helping him up. Remus held you in his arms, laying his forehead against you.

“I thought you were gone.” Harry said, looking over at Sirius.

“I'm not. Thanks to Yankee.” Sirius said, wrapping an arm around his godson's shoulder.

“Yankee! I want you to meet someone.” Sirius shouted, making Remus pull away as he glared at Sirius for disrupting. Harry watched you cover your face and leaned against Remus’ chest. After a few seconds later and quick kisses. Remus smiled and grabbed a hold of your hand, walking with you towards Harry and Sirius.

“There is someone you should meet.” Remus said as he walked you to Harry.

Harry held his breath as he got introduced to his aunt. “Love, meet Harry Potter.”

Harry saw you smile when you looked at him. It reminded him of the smile you had when taking the picture of your honeymoon. Ron and Hermione watched happily as Harry hugged the you back. He had told them about his cool aunt who used to be in House Slytherin.

Remus quickly wiped the tears rolling his face when he saw you lean down to look at Harry. You cried as you ran your finger through his dark hair before hugging him again. Remus walked to you as you reached your hand out for him. Harry felt Remus hand on his shoulder as he hugged you and him.

Harry saw Sirius walking to them as well.

“We are a family again.” Harry hears you say and it brings a smile on his face as they give him a group hug.

The members of the Order of the Phoenix sat in the kitchen of the Grimmauld Place. That’s where you had taken them. Harry and Sirius sat across from you and Remus as you spoke to them while waiting for Dumbledore.

‘He called me saying Harry was having dreams. We both went to the Ministry of Magic, I help you lot escaped while he dealing with Voldemort.”

“How is it over there in the States?” Arthur asked you, he was sitting at the far end of the table.

“It was bad for a while. Voldemort numbers decreased here but in the States it rose and muggles were being killed left and right. Lost some good friends because of it.” Remus placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and you kissed it as you raised your hand to hold his.

“The last thing we found out were some Death Eaters, we captured in California. They said that their Dark Lord had spoken about mind controlling. He is going to use it on the muggles to think he is some sort of God, to worship and to do his bidding.”

“Jesus Christ, not to mention the dark creatures as well but now hearing about these dreams. I fear he wants something or..” Harry watched as you sighed while looking defeated.

‘Someone.” You finished looking at Harry.

“There was a reason why Barty put your name in the Goblet. They did it to me but unlike you to be killed. For me it was to show them my power. Powers I didn't know I had to begin with.”

“I saw it. You won it.” Harry said with a proud smile.

“Not many people were happy with a muggleborn being the champion.” You said and Harry knew why you had stuck your tongue at the camera when your photo was taken.

“Christ, I would do anything to look at their faces again.” Remus smiled at you. Harry liked the accent you had as you spoke. It was different and the way you pronounce the words was all new to him. He wondered back to Remus' words about having a hard time in school. He wondered if you were being bullied for being different like him.

“Who’s Christ? And what's Jesus?” Harry turns to look at Luna who was sitting with Neville. She looked at you curiously. Remus and you snorted a chuckle before looking over at Sirius who was lost for words.

Harry bites a smile as Sirius quickly answers who this man is and his name. “Muggle God, dear.”

“I remember the look on your father’s face when I taught him about muggle’s religions.”

Harry listened as you spoke when Dumbledore. Voldemort has escaped but the Ministry now knows the truth, Voldemort is back. Harry and his friends were going to go back to Hogwarts when Harry decided to say goodbye to Remus and you. He followed the direction that Kreacher gave him after saying how ridiculous is was to serve a werewolf and a mudblood. Harry just ignored it.

“You're staying, correct?’ He hears Remus ask you as he walks down the hallways to the bedroom were Kreacher said Remus was staying at.

“Yes, I am. I'm not leaving any time soon. I did my duty in America. I want to come back to be with you. With Sirius and Harry. “

“I can't lose you again, Y/n.” Harry hears Remus’ voice crack.

“Oh, baby.” Harry hears you answers and stands by the door. He looks at the opening and sees you hugging Remus, arms around his torso as Remus wraps his arms around your shoulders.

Harry looks away when Remus leans down for a kiss. He’s about to walk away when he hears a soft moan. His cheeks get flustered and he’s about to leave when he hears Sirius calling out for him. His eyes widened when he saw Sirius walking down the hallway.

“Harry!” He looks over at the sound of your voice.

“What’s up? Come to say bye?” Harry nods as Remus comes behind you.

“I was hoping we all get dinner before you leave for school. I’m sure you have questions and I’m willing to answer them for you.” Harry was glad you didn’t treated him like a child.

“I would love that.” Harry smiles as you wrap your arm around his shoulders. “Will you tell me about your time in Hogwarts?” You raised a brow at Harry before looking over at Remus. “It’s not all sunshine and roses, Harry. You sure you wanna know?” Harry nods at you.

“Alright! Fuck it! Let’s go somewhere where they serve beer.” You patted Harry on his back.

“Padfoot! Babe! We are out.” You shout over your shoulder as you walk side by side with Harry.

Both men stood behind, watching as Harry and you walked down the hall. Remus had a smile on his face with his hands in the pockets of sweater as Sirius had his arms crossed over his chest.

“This is going to be an interesting dinner, Moony.” Remus nods at him.

“Yeah but he should know about our Yankee.” Sirius agrees with him on that.

Chapter 2 ->

#remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #sirius black #harry potter #harry potter has a aunt #remus lupin x american!reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom

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saintsenara · 9 days

Note

Riddle’s extremely fearful and aggressive reaction to Dumbledore when he thinks he’s a doctor (and the fact that he assumes this at all and believes he is being lied to) has some pretty dark implications (which of course no one follows up on). Do you have thoughts?

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

and yes - this has occurred to me too... which means that my thoughts come with a trigger warning for the sexual abuse of a child, and are under the cut.

the relevant scene in canon is, of course, this:

“I am Professor Dumbledore.” “Professor?” repeated Riddle. He looked wary. “Is that like doctor? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?” He was pointing at the door through which Mrs. Cole had just left. “No, no,” said Dumbledore, smiling. “I don’t believe you,” said Riddle. “She wants me looked at, doesn’t she? Tell the truth!” He spoke the last three words with a ringing force that was almost shocking. It was a command, and it sounded as though he had given it many times before. His eyes had widened and he was glaring at Dumbledore, who made no response except to continue smiling pleasantly. After a few seconds Riddle stopped glaring, though he looked, if anything, warier still. “Who are you?” ��I have told you. My name is Professor Dumbledore and I work at a school called Hogwarts. I have come to offer you a place at my school - your new school, if you would like to come.” Riddle’s reaction to this was most surprising. He leapt from the bed and backed away from Dumbledore, looking furious. “You can’t kid me! The asylum, that’s where you’re from, isn’t it? ‘Professor,’ yes, of course - well, I’m not going, see? That old cat’s the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they’ll tell you!”

the surface-level reading of this scene - which is clearly what the text wants us to go for - is that riddle thinks he's about to be institutionalised for being "mad" - and, specifically, that he thinks that what dumbledore has been told is his "madness" is actually his magic.

[he is also clearly meant to be read as panicking a little bit that he's fucked around torturing his fellow children and is now about to find out...]

that riddle accepts he's a wizard so easily - and that he is so reassured by dumbledore agreeing that he's not mad - is something the text wants us to read as sinister. him immediately describing himself as "special" is set up as a precursor to the adult voldemort's delusions of grandeur - which the entire arc of the series, ending in his death as an ordinary man, is designed to undermine.

but i've always disliked this reading. the eleven-year-old riddle - a magical child raised around non-magical people - is objectively correct to describe his powers as "special" [in that they make him identifiably different from the crowd] within the context in which he lives. the word choice is nowhere near as deep as dumbledore decides - he's clearly known since he was very young that he's a wizard, but he didn't have the precise language to describe this fundamental part of himself until dumbledore offered it; prior to that, "special" is a perfectly reasonable alternative term.

and, in always knowing that he's a wizard, he also knows that he doesn't have a mental illness - but he must also know that this is something it's near impossible for him to prove.

in the real world, if i spoke to a patient who told me:

“I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to.”

then i would be correct to describe them as experiencing psychosis. and i might - depending on their other symptoms - have reasonable cause to admit them [voluntarily or not] for psychiatric treatment.

riddle is - of course - demonstrably not psychotic. but it's not unreasonable that mrs cole would assume he is - the world she lives in, as a muggle [even if she's a religious one], is one in which people do not possess the ability to move objects or control animals with their minds, and if one of her charges is convinced that he can, then she's justified in seeking medical intervention.

[that psychiatric treatment in the 1930s can be described without exaggeration as inhumane is another matter...]

which is to say, i think we can easily suppose that mrs cole has - prior to dumbledore's arrival - succeeded in having riddle "looked at", and that the idea that he's mentally ill and should be committed to an asylum has been mentioned before. i think most of us would be instinctively [and angrily] wary of doctors if this happened to us, regardless of how nice the doctors in question were.

and maybe that's all there is to it.

and maybe it isn't...

in the doylist text, the eleven-year-old riddle's personality is the way it is because he's the villain of the series. where harry is preternaturally capable, even as a child, of all the things the series defines as admirable - above all, enduring difficulty without complaint - riddle is preternaturally incapable of them. he's meant to come across as unambiguously sinister - and the fact that the text repeatedly emphasises that he has control over his unpleasant traits invites us to view him as someone who is acting with full agency. that he lives in an orphanage is a trope which the text uses, like a campy horror film might, predominately to underscore how creepy he is - and the text, in keeping with its general lack of interest in states and their institutions, never really prompts us to interrogate the impact of his childhood upon the course his life takes.

[this is despite the fact that voldemort's reliving of the night he killed the potters in deathly hallows is an incredibly accurate depiction of ptsd...]

but it's also the case that the eleven-year-old riddle's behaviour and personality fits a pattern we might expect to see in a child who is being abused, sexually or otherwise:

he's aggressive, he has a hair-trigger temper, and he becomes distressed even by behaviour - such as dumbledore speaking mildly and calmly - which would not ordinarily be expected to provoke such a reaction.

his broader emotional state is fractious. his mood changes sharply, he seems to feel emotions very profoundly, he struggles to control his emotional response to things, he's extremely easily irritated, he's attention-seeking - and he particularly seeks negative attention, and he's very highly-strung. his admission in deathly hallows that he feels calm before he kills - or before he otherwise eradicates a threat or a problem - comes with the flip-side that he's someone who appears, when things aren't going well or he finds himself in a situation which he can't control, to become quite anxious. which is a trauma response.

he's extremely isolated. the text presents the fact that he has no friends as a deliberate choice - "lord voldemort has never had a friend, nor do i believe that he has ever wanted one" - and his relationship with everyone else he ever meets, including his fellow orphans, is defined by the text as exclusively involving him controlling, manipulating, and punishing them. or: he is always the more powerful person in the pairing. but this need for control can be read as self-protective just as easily as it can be read as sinister. there are hints in canon that riddle is not just some malevolent force in the orphanage preying on mild-mannered innocents. for example, billy stubbs, the owner of the rabbit he kills, is targeted by riddle as revenge: “Billy Stubbs’s rabbit... well, Tom said he didn’t do it and I don’t see how he could have done, but even so, it didn’t hang itself from the rafters, did it? [...] But I’m jiggered if I know how he got up there to do it. All I know is he and Billy had argued the day before." on the rare occasions billy turns up in fics, he's usually - i find - written very like neville - sweet and guileless and a bit pathetic. but the alternative reading - especially when we take into account that riddle attacks the rabbit rather than billy himself - is that billy is someone he would be afraid to physically confront. indeed, it's striking that voldemort - at all stages of his life - is described as being quite physically fragile. not only is he very thin, but he's always cold and his heartbeat is described several times in canon as irregular. i think this is supposed to be a comment on the physical changes he undergoes the more horcruxes he makes - although the idea that the soul would affect the heart doesn't actually align with how the series understands the soul to relate to the body - but it can also be interpreted perfectly legitimately as something he was experiencing prior to splitting his soul. i am committed to the headcanon that riddle was quite a sickly child - and that this is one of the things which drives his fear of death - and i'm also committed to the idea that his obsession with magic is because the enormity of his magical power makes up for his physical lack. he can defeat - and humiliate and frighten and remove the threat of - billy or dennis [or even an adult man?] with magic. without it, if they were to physically overpower him, then he wouldn't be able to throw them off.

he is extremely nervous about being alone in a room with dumbledore - someone he doesn't know, and who he assumes is connected to a profession [and, maybe, who knows any other doctors he's been previously made to see...] of which he is frightened.

he doesn't trust or confide in anyone - which, as a child, means particularly that he doesn't trust or confide in adults in positions of responsibility. he's clearly uneasy with the idea of finding himself in the subordinate position in an adult-child relationship when dumbledore offers to take him shopping for school supplies - potentially because he's worried that dumbledore will try and dictate or restrict what he's allowed to buy unless he behaves in a certain way... and i am always very struck that dumbledore says in half-blood prince: "He was very guarded with me; he felt, I am sure, that in the thrill of discovering his true identity he had told me a little too much. He was careful never to reveal as much again." this is presented in the text as evidence that dumbledore is the only person of whom voldemort is afraid - by which the text means that voldemort acknowledges that dumbledore knows that an ordinary man, mortal and unimpressive, lurks behind the mask of unassailable power he has created for himself; and which the text thinks is a good thing. but we can also read it as a self-protective act on riddle's part. in his excitement, he offers dumbledore information [that he is known to be a liar, that he is in trouble a lot, that mrs cole dislikes him and is disinclined to believe anything he says] which would give dumbledore - or anyone in a similar position of power and presumed respectability - cover to abuse him, safe in the knowledge that he would be unlikely to be believed if he reported it.

he doesn't appear to feel safe in the orphanage and he's frequently absent from it - by his own admission, he spends a huge amount of time wandering around london on his own, which may even involve him staying away for several days at a time. nobody appears to notice or care about this.

he's very independent - which the text again presents as evidence of his deliberate self-isolation and rejection of the bonds of love and friendship - and his independence is unusual for a child his age [i.e. that he is capable of doing all his own shopping for school].

his knowledge of violence - i.e. how he designs the trip to the cave to be maximally psychologically devastating for dennis and amy and devoid of repercussions for himself - is also more advanced and methodical than would be expected in a child of his age. again, the text uses this to emphasise how inextricable the child-voldemort is from his adult self - and also, to some extent, to underscore the intellectual brilliance [his magic is also more advanced than is normal for a child] which his narrative archetype [the exceptional villain who is defeated by the everyman hero] requires. but we can also read it as evidence of his own victimisation. a common sign that a child is being sexually abused is that they display a knowledge of sexual behaviour which is more advanced than is reasonable for a child of their age - for example, knowing in detail how a sex act is performed, or fluently using sexual slang which they have no chance of knowing either from age-appropriate settings like school-based sex education or conversations with a parent or trusted adult, or from the sort of enthusiastic hoarding of rude words and phrases all children enjoy as they grow up. riddle's precise, clinical knowledge of how to manipulate, frighten, torture, and control can be seen as something similar. if he can - at eleven or younger - methodically break down another child until they're "never quite right" again, then this is because he's learned how to from someone.

he keeps secrets. and he also goes out of his way to extract them. his grooming of ginny in chamber of secrets - he manipulates her into confiding things she wants to keep to herself, promises he won't tell anyone, and then uses the threat that he will to get her to do his bidding - is an absolutely textbook example of how abusers use the idea of secrecy to control their victims. it doesn't make his abuse of ginny any less inexcusable if we assume he learns this from being on the other side of things.

dumbledore understands his little cache of objects as trophies he's taken from victims - and the text takes the view that dumbledore is correct in this assessment. that hoarding trophies is something widely associated with serial killers means that this is yet another thing which underlines how creepy - and how like his adult self - the child-voldemort is. but it's also the case that the adult - and teenage - voldemort places a lot of emphasis on gift-giving as part of his control over other people. the two most obvious examples in canon are wormtail being given his shiny hand as a reward for helping voldemort get his body back, and slughorn being buttered up with crystallised pineapple before voldemort asks him about horcruxes. the text thinks this is sinister - and one of the reasons it does this is because gift-giving is a grooming tactic. the text also clearly thinks this isn't behaviour voldemort has learned from the other side. and yet a common sign that a child is being abused is if they have possessions it doesn't make sense for them to own [i.e. a child from a low-income background who is suddenly decked in designer clothes] and which they can't or won't explain how they came by. riddle's cache isn't luxurious - although he's so poor that a yoyo or a mouth organ probably is a luxury to him - but there's also nothing in canon which precludes the objects being presents, rather than stolen goods. if the spell dumbledore uses to make the box rattle is caused by a statement which is both relatively ambiguous and dependent on dumbledore's subjective personal morality - is there anything in this room he's acquired through nefarious means? - then the spell would still work as it does in canon if riddle was an abuse victim given the objects as "rewards". dumbledore's tendency to locate right and wrong in the individual and dumbledore's belief that good people should steadfastly endure misery means he can be written entirely canon-coherently as someone who would think a victim who appeared to collude in their own abuse - such as a victim who "offered" a sexual act because their abuser promised them something if they did - was behaving consensually, manipulatively, and nefariously. and it's worth noting that when riddle doesn't know what dumbledore has done to make the box rattle, he is "unnerved". when he realises dumbledore thinks he's stolen the objects - and that he has no interest in forcing him to admit this aloud - he is "unabashed". perhaps because he's just received proof that an experience he doesn't want to talk about is still secret...

on the other hand, the objects could indeed be stolen - because petty criminality and anti-social behaviour, especially in pre-teen children, is also a sign of abuse.

he can be extremely obsequious - when dumbledore tells him to watch how he speaks he becomes "unrecognisably polite", he ruthlessly flatters slughorn, and he is cringingly deferential to hepzibah smith. the text understands this as evidence that his apparent charm is only superficial - another trait associated in the popular imagination with serial killers [and it's striking that so much about the young voldemort - handsome, charming, seemingly quiet and polite, true evil lurking underneath the mask - is exactly like the pop-culture persona which has been created for ted bundy...]. voldemort himself agrees that his charm is performative in chamber of secrets: “If I say it myself, Harry, I’ve always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted." but his obsequiousness is also a fawn response - a way of minimising a threat by attempting to please the person issuing it. he becomes "unrecognisably polite" - after all - in response to this: Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. “If, as I take it, you are accepting your place at Hogwarts - ” “Of course I am!” “Then you will address me as ‘Professor’ or ‘sir.’ ” Riddle’s expression hardened for the most fleeting moment before he said, in an unrecognisably polite voice, “I’m sorry, sir. I meant - please, Professor, could you show me - ?” riddle could reasonably interpret what dumbledore says here as a threat to prevent him attending hogwarts - even though dumbledore evidently doesn't mean it in this way - and he switches to being fawning because this is something he really doesn't want to happen...

do i think that any of this is what the text was actually going for? no. and nor do i think that reading riddle as a victim of abuse excuses the violence which the adult voldemort goes on to perpetuate.

but i think it is a reading of his characterisation which is both canon-plausible and interesting - a strange, sickly child with a reputation for cruelty and dishonesty being abused by the respectable doctor who is constantly called in to treat his coughs and wheezes, who buys him little presents and charms him into telling him secrets, who then [to paraphrase the teenage voldemort] feeds him a few secrets of his own, safe in the knowledge that nobody will ever believe him if he tries to get help.

and i also think this a reading which is sincerely important.

a significant contributor to the prevalence of child abuse - no matter what exact form this abuse takes - is that we are culturally conditioned to imagine that both the abuser and the victim will look and behave in a certain way if the abuse is "real".

and this means, all too often, that we take child abuse more seriously when the victim is "sympathetic" - when they're from a stable home, and their family are respectable, and they do well in school, and they're polite and sweet, and they look innocent, and they behave perfectly appropriately for their age, and nobody would ever dare to say that they come across as older than they are, and they're white, and they don't have a history of lying, and they don't have a history of attention-seeking, and they don't have a criminal record, and they're not abusive themselves, and there's absolutely no way of suggesting that they colluded in their abuse, and the perpetrator was someone who looks like a child abuser.

someone who is creepy, low-status, ugly, unpopular. someone who everyone can tell is socially abnormal, someone who nobody would ever intentionally permit to be around their children. not someone who is charming, well-respected, attractive, rich, popular, trustworthy. not someone who has a loving family and a happy home. not someone we might be friends with.

but many perpetrators of child abuse are these second group of people. and many victims of child abuse are "unsympathetic", when their social positions and reputations are compared to their abusers' own.

they lie. they steal. they're attention-seeking. they're vindictive. they have trouble distinguishing between imagination and reality. they're violent. they're bullies. they hurt animals. they abuse other children. they take drugs. they're mentally-ill. they come from broken homes. they're in the care of the state. they're dirty. they're poor. they're odd. they're behind at school and badly-behaved in the classroom. they do things which allow their abuse to be dismissed as something they brought upon themselves - they speak or dress in certain ways, they pose provocatively in pictures and post them on the internet, they are known to be sexually active outside of the context of their abuse, they lie about being over the age of consent, they engage in sexual behaviour with an adult abuser in a way which appears [even though it isn't, and there's never a circumstance in which it will be] to be consensual or for their own personal gain, they are flattered by the attention they receive from someone who is important or attractive grooming them, they have complicated - and not always wholly negative - feelings towards their abusers.

and they are still - unequivocally - victims, and what happens to them is still - unequivocally - abuse.

tom riddle is an unsympathetic victim - not only of any potential abuse, but also of the horrors of his life which are explicit on the canon page: that he is raised in an orphanage; that he is grieving; that he knows nothing about his family; that he is thought to be mad.

the absence of any institutional response to his childhood experiences - dumbledore, by his own admission, discloses nothing about riddle to his fellow teachers - is a flaw repeated again and again in the worldbuilding of the harry potter series.

hogwarts - and the wizarding [and muggle] state more broadly - doesn't intervene in any case of neglect or abuse, from harry to snape to voldemort's own parents. the series' individualistic morality means that we aren't supposed to interrogate these collective failings. and the series' black-and-white view of good and evil - and its general belief that violence is fine if the person it happens to "deserves" it - means that it has no interest in examining the ways that poverty, isolation, and neglect are risk factors; that straightforwardly unpleasant people can still be victims; that victims can go on to become perpetrators without their victimhood ceasing to matter; and that the abuse of children usually takes place not in silence and secrecy, concealed in ways which make it fine for adults not to notice it and not to intervene, but in plain sight.

this is knowledge it never hurts to refresh. thinking about lord voldemort's childhood might be an usual way of doing so... but it is an effective one nonetheless...

#asks answered #asenora meta #tom riddle #lord voldemort #if wizards had the concept of safeguarding it would be a game changer...

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lovelyjj · 5 months

Note

maybe a mix of “i’m just afraid” and “tell me the truth”? 🫶

avoidance

jj maybank x reader

wc: 1.4k

a/n: I lowkey hate this.

You and JJ were the best of friends. You did everything together. He was your person you told everything to. He was your partner in crime. There were no secrets between the two of you.

You and JJ were on the couch that was on John B’s porch, enjoying the rain. The rain was blanketing the outer banks in water, soaking the grass and trees.

“I love the rain,” you stated.

“Really why?” JJ asked.

“I don’t know it makes me feel less alone, like the sky is crying with me.”

“That’s a really good reason,” JJ replied.

“Thanks,” you smiled.

“You want to dance?” JJ asked with a goofy grin on his face.

“In the rain?” You questioned surprised.

“In the rain,” JJ confirmed.

“Ok.”

JJ got up and reached his hand out for you to take, which you gladly accepted. The two of you went out on the grass and JJ held onto one hand. Then he put one hand on your waist and you put the hand not holding his, on his shoulder.

You guys danced and he spun you around and you got soaking wet. You were having a lot of fun though. You were having a blast and so was JJ.

When you were finished JJ ushered you inside as you giggled.

You both changed into dry clothes and afterwards JJ had an idea.

“Let’s make some hot chocolate,” JJ announced.

“Yes please,” you answered.

JJ whipped up two mugs of cocoa and you both sipped yours quietly.

“Tastes good,” you whispered.

“Wanna watch a movie?” you asked JJ.

“Sure,” JJ replied.

You both settled into John B’s living room and put on spider-man. You ended up falling asleep on the pullout couch.

——————

A couple days later you were all going out on the boat. The day was bright and sunny perfect for going out on the water.

JJ was looking at you in your bikini top. He knew he shouldn’t be looking at his best friend like that but he couldn’t help it. You looked hot and JJ could hardly look away from your chest.

You were oblivious to JJ’s ogling. You were happy to be on the boat with your friends.

“I can’t believe the weather is so nice,” you spoke.

“Yeah it’s perfect,” Pope responded.

“I thought it would be windy out here on the water,” JJ said removing his attention from your breasts.

“Hope we can catch some fish,” John B announced.

“Should be able to,” JJ commented.

While the boys were fishing, you Kiara and Sarah were on your phones. You were looking through your photos and you noticed how many you had of you and JJ.

There was one of you two at the beach with the waves in the background and a pretty sunset.

“Can I post this J?” you asked.

“Let me see it.”

You handed your phone to JJ and he took it. He scanned the image and smiled a genuine smile.

“Yeah that’s a good one. Go ahead fire away.”

You gave him a smile and decided to post the picture.

After a while you got a few comments. One was from Sarah that said, “Goals.”

You ignored it because you didn’t want to draw attention to it. The last thing you needed was people assuming your in a relationship with JJ cause your not. Your just friends and that’s all you ever will be.

—————

You were spending more and more time with JJ. Sometimes with the other pogues and sometimes just the two of you.

You were starting to catch feelings for him. You didn’t know how or why but being around him brought out the best in you. You started to fall in love with your best friend. You were scared you’ve never felt this way before. And what if he doesn’t love you back.

You decided to go to Kiara and ask for her help. She was working at the wreck, so you made your way over there.

“Hey Kie, I need your help,” you hesitated.

“Yeah sure y/n whatever you need,” Kiara replied.

“Here let’s sit down,” Kiara said as she directed you to a small table by the window.

You sat across from her and she gave you a kind smile with kind eyes.

“What’s up,” Kiara started.

“Well um I’ve sorta had these feelings for a certain someone and I’m not sure what to do about it. I just know I don’t want to tell them,” you began.

“Why don’t you want to tell them,” Kiara asked.

“I’m just afraid,” you bit your lip.

“What do you have to be afraid of?”

“Well first of all he could not feel the same way. He could reject me. He could laugh in my face. The list goes on,” you threw your hands up in the air.

“JJ wouldn’t do that,” Kiara raised a brow.

“How do you know it’s JJ?” You asked.

“Oh come on, who else would it be.”

“You’ve got a point.” you laughed.

“Speak of the devil,” Kiara whispered as you turned to the sound of the door opening.

JJ sauntered in to the wreck, Pope, John B and Sarah following suit.

“The gangs all here,” Kiara exclaimed.

“I need to go,” you whispered to Kiara.

“What why?”

“I just need to, ok!”

You slipped out the back door leaving the rest of the crew utterly confused.

—————

You have been avoiding JJ. It’s not that you wanted to, you hated the distance between you and not seeing him but you didn’t know how to act around him anymore.

You were getting worried because you thought JJ was on to you. Now JJ was getting worried because he hasn’t seen you in a while. He figured that you were mad at him. He hated it.

When the pogues would hang out all together you would not be there. You would miss the activities they had planned.

It was getting harder and harder hiding your feelings from JJ. You would always blush or your heart would beat really fast. So your only option you decided was to stop hanging out with him.

JJ was confused because of your absence. He was going to get to the bottom of this. He was determined.

He assumed you would be at your house. So that’s where he showed up. He knocked on your door a few times and after a few minutes you came to the door. You were shocked to see JJ standing there.

You wanted to run back to your room and hide. You were embarrassed by your actions. Just all of a sudden ghosting him. He didn’t deserve that.

“Hey um so I miss you. A lot. And I think we need to talk,” JJ scratched the back of his neck.

“Sure.”

You stepped outside and closed the door behind you.

“I need to know why your avoiding me,” JJ insisted.

“I’m not avoiding you.”

“y/n.”

“Ok ok I’ve been avoiding you because I didn’t want to see you.” You nervously crossed your arms and looked down.

JJ wasn’t buying it. “No. Tell me the truth.”

As you looked into JJ’s pleading blue eyes you felt your stomach flip. You couldn’t lie to him even if you tried.

“Fine. You want the truth? The truth is I’m in love with you. And I don’t know how to act around you anymore. I assumed you didn’t feel the same way so to save myself the rejection, I avoided you.”

“You thought I wouldn’t feel the same way?” JJ questioned.

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” JJ confessed.

“Really?”

JJ nodded his head.

“I can’t believe you did all that.” JJ said surprised.

You took a step closer to JJ and he took your face in his hands.

“Come here,” JJ whined.

You didn’t need to be asked twice. You leaned in and JJ placed lips on yours. Instantly you felt electrifying sparks shoot trough you. Your stomach erupted with butterflies. The kiss was gentle and delicate. JJ was excited and you were giddy.

Your lips were crushing together and moving against each other. JJ was feeling warm all over. Your hands were resting on JJ’s shoulders. One of JJ’s hand rested on your jaw and one hand snaked lower to your butt squeezing lightly. This caused you to gasp, allowing JJ’s tongue to slide into your mouth.

After making out you pulled away breathless. You wore a big smile and JJ laughed.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” JJ broke the silence.

“I’ve missed you too,” you responded.

“Will you be mine?” JJ asked.

“Yes, I’ll be yours,” you exclaimed.

JJ picked you up and spun you around, your laughter mixing together to create a sense of harmony and happiness. Since you and JJ were best of friends your romantic relationship will only flourish because you loved each other wholeheartedly.

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cameronspecial · 6 months

Note

can i request rafe x fwb reader where reader finds out hes dating sofia and she goes to confront him that he didnt even have the decency to let her know their arrangement was over and he says "who said it was over?''

The Lies You Tell The Other Woman

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Sex

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Y/N never thought she would be the type of girl to engage in sexual relations with Rafe Cameron, but at last, she found herself in need of some sexual release one day and he just so happened to need some too. It had led to either of them just saying a word and the other would come over to help satisfy the need. It’s not that guys don’t find interest in Y/N; it’s just that every guy interested was about as smart as a brick. The more intellectual guys were either taken, intimidated by her or too caught up in their work to ask her out. Rafe may not have been smart in the way that she wanted, but he was resourceful, always thinking ahead and pretty. It really was the best of both worlds. She thought she and Rafe had an agreement. They both wouldn’t see other people, but they weren’t dating. Not having strings attached to their sex meant that she could focus on school, yet still have mind-blowing sex. She was surprised when she learned that she was actually the other girl instead of the only girl.

“Did you hear that Rafe is dating Sofia from the club?” a random Kook whispers to her girlfriend. The other girl nods, “Yes! I saw them together at his party last week. They disappeared together a few minutes in.” Upon overhearing the conversation between the couple, Y/N’s blood boiled. She couldn’t believe he lied about only having sex with her but also about his relationship status. He made her a tool for his infidelity, which she despised because cheating was the cause of her parents' divorce.

——

Her arrival at Tannyhill came not long after her eavesdropping. Rafe opens the door with a smirk on his face, thinking he is about to get lucky. “You never told me you were dating Sofia,” she states in a calm but annoyed tone as she enters the house. Rafe closes the door and chases after her, “So what if I am?” She spins around to face him with fury in her eyes. “So what if you are? I thought we agreed that we wouldn’t be seeing other people let alone dating,” she argues.

“Darling, it’s not my fault you made those assumptions.”

“It’s not my fault that you didn’t tell me. Not only did you lead me to believe you weren’t sleeping with anyone else but you made me think you were single.”

“What I do with you has nothing to do with Sofia.”

This time he steps closer to the girl with a longing look in his eyes that he tries to mask with lust. Truth is Rafe doesn’t know why he started dating Sofia when all he wanted was Y/N. Maybe because it hurt him when Y/N left the first time they had sex, saying it would be great if they could continue this with no strings attached, so he found a way to hurt her. Maybe it was because he wanted to be something more than just a sexual release for the girl he had been pining for since freshman year of high school. Y/N shakes her head, “This has everything to do with Sofia. You made me the other woman, Rafe. My parents got a divorce because my dad cheated. I know how Sofia would feel if she found out about us. So this is over.” At the last sentence, Y/N motioned between her and Rafe.

A dark look crosses his eyes at the possibility of losing the one person he wants most in the world and his panic is trying to creep through. He pushes those fears aside, stepping closer to her so she can feel his breath on her face as she looks up at him. All he is thinking about is how he is going to keep what is his. His chest presses against hers as he looks down at her. “Who said it is over? It’s only over when I say it is.”

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strangersteddierthings · 8 months

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ooo can i suggest prompt six? "Did you lie to me?" hehe

Thanks for sending a prompt, Nonny! It's my daily ficlet for today!

Daily Ficlet 6

Steve's never been a secret before. He's too likeable (or hateable) for that. He's never had to hide a relationship before because what girl wouldn't want to be with him? All his friendships are well known, or were, back when he was in high school. There weren't even secret rivalries!

So, it's an adjustment, keeping this thing with Eddie a secret. But he's trying. Even though all he wants to do is hold his hand every hour of every day he refrains because. Because?

Well, he's not really full on those details. He knows it's partially because Eddie isn't out to anyone in the group except Steve. He's not even out to Robin, and Steve thought for sure they'd figure each other out and bond over it but that hasn't happened yet. Eddie's also said something about keeping it to themselves so they can just be themselves, together, without other people. When Eddie had whispered that it had sounded so sweet and romantic. But that was, like, two months ago and it's.... it's still romantic, but Steve wants to ramble about how beautiful Eddie is to Robin.

Also! This secret keeping is causing Robin to worry! He can't keep secrets from Robin, he never has. He told Robin he thought he might like guys exactly 0.4 seconds after he'd realized it! In fact, he's so bad at secret keeping that he's told her he has a boyfriend. Won't say who, and Robin won't push. All he had to say was his boyfriend wasn't ready to come out and that was that.

He's out to the Party, too. Mostly as an accidental outing he didn't back down from even when Will offered him an out with his quick thinking. Jonathan knows, too. That was an on-purpose telling after Will came out to Steve when they were finally alone, and Steve learned Jonathan knew about Will.

Anyway. Steve's never been a secret before. He doesn't want to continue being one. He just wants Eddie's permission to tell Robin. He'll be fine with waiting even if Eddie says he's not ready for Robin to know, of course, but he just. He wants Robin to know who the amazing person he rants about is.

So, imagine his surprise when, halfway down the stairs to the basement at Eddie and Wayne's new house to talk to Eddie about telling Robin, he hears his name.

"-because it's Steve Harrington, y'know?" Gareth's voice floats up the stairs to Steve and he freezes. Is Gareth a goddman psychic!? How did he know Steve was here?

"That's your reasoning? Because it's Steve?" Eddie asks, and oh. They don't know he's here. They're talking about him. Steve should make himself known. He shouldn't just stand here and listen. But. Well, if Eddie's finally telling his friends about them, he kinda wants to hear it. Want to hear Eddie spill the secret so they can quit being so secretive.

"Well, yeah. You're the one who's always saying people don't change. Did you lie to me? To us? Has Steve changed?" That's Jeff's voice, and his questions make Steve gut twist. But Eddie's not Nancy. He's not- they aren't bullshit. Eddie knows that. He'll defend Steve. He'll tell them the truth. There's silence, though. Eddie doesn't defend him.

"What's with the silence?" Frankie asks, when Eddie's been quiet too long. Funny, Steve wanted to ask the same thing.

"I'm trying to not snap at you all," Eddie says, and he sounds angry. "I get that you guys might still be hesitant or whatever, but you don't get to come here and throw accusations when you haven't even tried to be friends with him! This is why I don't invite him to come hang out with us! 'Cause you can be a bunch of dicks sometimes!"

Steve feels a warmth bloom inside him. He knew Eddie would defend him, he did. It's just hard to believe sometimes, and he's not going to make that Eddie's problem. But hearing it. Hearing that Eddie does defend him even when he doesn't know Steve's around to hear it. Fuck, it makes him want to kiss Eddie so bad.

"Hey, man, I'm sorry," Jeff says, "you're right. We are being dicks, and pretty standoffish with Steve. We aren't giving him a fair chance."

"You're not!" Eddie agrees aggressively. "Even if he wasn't my b- my friend, he's still the reason I'm even fucking alive. So, respect that at least."

Steve stands at the midpoint of the stairs until the conversation turns to a different topic before he tiptoes back to the top of the steps to turn around and thunder down the stairs loudly, giving everyone in the basement a warning to his arrival.

He'll tell a lie, that he was driving around because he was bored and thought to stop and see what Eddie was up to, and get invited to stay and hang out. Eddie's friends are more open with him than they usually are and Steve doesn't waste the opportunity to try and really engage with them, get to know them.

He can be a secret just a little longer, he supposes, when he looks away from Jeff and catches Eddie staring at him with the same adoration he sees on Eddie's face when they're alone. And judging by the almost slip up earlier, Eddie might be getting closer to not being a secret, too.

#anonymous #ask #my fic #steddie #daily ficlet #i still plan to write for the original prompt but this ask called to me first #and i dont wanna burnout trying to write too many fics #HA! best you thought this was going to be angst! But it's not!

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animaymay · 1 month

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SxF 96 Analysis: Some Small Details About the Reveal

Ok, hear me out. I haven't even read the manga for Spy x Family (yet); I've only watched seasons 1 and 2 of the anime, but I've somehow stumbled upon spoilers for the last two chapters (ch. 95 and ch. 96), and other small bits here and there.

And since I am not totally caught up on the story, I hesitate to call this a proper analysis since I'm mostly going off of what I know from the anime at this point. But!

I've been following the chatter and excitement following chapter 96 and I just wanted to throw this quick analysis out there, since I haven't seen some of these details mentioned yet.

So, I'm going to focus on this particular moment, just for what it is. Down the line, after catching up and having all of the character and story details, I might revisit this scene again with additional insight.

Of course, I'm sure we've all seen this panel at this point.

At first glance, this panel is beautifully drawn. You can tell that it was drawn with a lot of care and attention to detail. Typically, such manga panels are used to emphasize the fact that this is an important moment for these characters and/or the story.

There are even bits of confetti(?) flying around them, reminiscent of cherry blossom petals; this is another known technique used in manga to indicate the emotional importance of a scene for the characters featured.

That all feels pretty obvious, I'm sure. But I also wanted to point out other small details given here, which could potentially add another layer to this scene for folks.

I've seen a lot of discussion around how Anya's admission here is a big deal (and it is). But I haven't seen anyone mention the small detail here that she whispers, "I can read people's minds."

I believe that is also why we see that speech bubble transparently -- to visually show us the softness of her voice in that moment (in addition to representing Anya's willingness to be transparent about herself).

However, let's consider the conversation up until this moment. Right before, Damian had jokingly asked her, "How did you know about my dog and the pond, anyway? What, did you read my mind or something?!"

Of course, he was not expecting Anya to say, "Yes". But it's not the fact that Anya said, "Yes" that makes this scene impactful. Anya could have easily said the exact same words, at normal volume, with a smirk on her face, and nobody would think twice about it. Damian would have immediately understood that she was teasing him. And anyone overhearing their conversation would have thought the exact same thing.

But that isn't what happened. Because Anya was serious in that moment. With a genuine expression on her face, she says, "Yes" and then she whispers her secret to him.

And that is what shocks Damian. That is what causes him to freeze.

In that moment, he's able to sense her sincerity and hear the truth in her words.

His gut reaction is to believe her, whether it's because it's Anya or because of how she said it. It isn't until he has a second to think and his brain kicks into gear that he starts to notice the disparity between what he knows to be true and what Anya is telling him. In a split second, he questions this, and then ultimately rejects the notion that she could be telling the truth.

Why?

The obvious answer would be that what she's told him does not line up with what he knows to be true of reality. The rational and logical part of his brain overrides his heart and his gut, ultimately recognizing this disparity and forcing him to reject Anya's claims.

However, they are at a young enough age that it wouldn't be uncommon to easily believe in "impossible" things like magic or superpowers. So, there's also a chance that it goes a bit deeper than this.

Perhaps this sudden display of sincerity and truth from Anya didn't line up with her typical behavior with him. He's not used to seeing that side of her, and as a result, his mind resorts to him thinking that she's lying to him. He thinks that she's just teasing him. Not only because that's what he expects from her, but also because the only other alternative would be for him to admit that they've just shared a true moment of openness and transparency between them.

Anya's whisper implies, "this is only for you to know." As a defense mechanism, Damian's brain decided that it was more likely that Anya was teasing him than it was that she was being vulnerable with him in that way.

Another detail from this moment stems from the fact that this reveal takes place while they are dancing together. Partner dancing is an activity that requires cooperation and teamwork. At first, we see Damian and Anya struggle with getting the hang of it, but eventually they start working together.

That, in itself, seems to be a fairly good representation of their relationship with each other. However, even more so, it follows the flow of their conversation in this moment. It isn't until they start cooperating that they start to open up to one another.

And the pinnacle of the conversation -- the reveal -- happens at the exact moment when Damian dips her. Not only does this make for a picturesque panel, but it is also a symbolic visual of what's happening.

Dipping your dance partner inherently requires a level of trust. The person being dipped has to literally put themselves in their partner's hands. Depending on the dip, they are giving up varying levels of control and safety over to their partner. They have to trust that their partner won't drop them, or bring them too close to the floor; they have to give up their balance and trust that their partner can hold the weight that they're giving up. And their partner takes on the responsibility and burden of that person's trust (as well as trusting that the person that they're dipping does not throw themselves around carelessly).

And here, in this scene, despite the bickering we see Anya and Damian do, we see that there is at least that small amount of trust between them. Anya trusts Damian to dip her, and Damian trusts Anya to be dipped.

But underneath the surface level, the fact that Anya whispers her secret to Damian while he's dipping her reinforces the idea that she trusts him with that knowledge. In that moment, she gave up some of her own control and safety, and placed it in Damian's hands. Only his. Her whisper implies, "this is only for you to know." And he's been given the responsibility and burden of deciding whether to hold it, or drop it.

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mcflymemes · 1 month

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PROMPTS FROM LIFE IS STRANGE, SEASON 1 * assorted dialogue, suggested by ismelodrama, adjust as necessary

everything is a picture waiting for be taken.

you're just jealous of me because i actually do the things you can't.

are you hiding something?

i'm sick of your disrespect. tell me the truth!

i don't want to fight with you anymore. i don't want to fight with anyone anymore.

i was eating those beans!

how the hell did you know about that photo?

always take the shot. my number one rule of photography.

you just don't listen, do you?

there's something weird going on with you.

you've only been here for three weeks and you're already causing conflict.

after this week, you are certainly not a little kid anymore.

not now. i'm contemplating shit.

are you fucking kidding me? this is major bullshit!

i didn't have all the evidence at the time.

we all make decisions we regret.

i'm not gonna make any excuses for my behavior.

i'd put stephen hawking against picasso any day.

it sucks to be dragged into the spotlight.

nobody believes me anyway.

you're exactly the kind of soldier i'd want by my side in a war.

why the hell not?

i almost asked you to hang out.

you should have asked me.

maybe we're too much alike.

i don't believe anything you say. you're full of shit.

eat a dick, [name].

i'll be in the tardis getting my delorean ready.

since you're the mysterious superhero... i'll be your faithful chauffeur and companion.

you don't know who the fuck i am or who you're messing around with.

where'd you get that? what are you doing? come on, put that thing down!

don't ever tell me what to do! i'm so sick of people trying to control me!

so you can't help me?

i told you before that i'll always believe you.

i may be a pest but... i'm a good listener.

you're the bravest person i've ever known.

for every action, there's a reaction.

i'm trying. but you have to understand my position.

i know i can be a pain in the ass... and you've always treated me like a person, not a beta nerd.

why do you want all your friends to die?

oh i see. i'm not important to you anymore.

nobody lectures me. everybody tries though.

do not analyze me! i pay people for that.

hey, that's total slander!

you don't know shit about my father, or me.

you're all fucked!

everybody hates me.

[name]... it's me. i just wanted to say i'm sorry.

i truly am sorry for being such a bastard.

you would have been cool to hang out with.

you might as well choose me.

i'm not perfect, okay?

you have talent, [name].

you don't have to push people out of your way.

thanks for admitting again that i have some talent.

do you think it's, like, fate we're not supposed to be friends?

nobody says we have to be friends.

everybody lies. no exceptions.

i came for all of you.

i'm in a nightmare and i can't wake up.

no wonder they call it a "web." nothing can ever get out.

i wish i could go back in time and erase everything.

just tell me you do have the photograph.

now shut up and listen.

i'm not a real scientist.

i was just happy just being your friend.

[name], i'm so sorry you had to go through all that.

i don't think i can concentrate on going out to the movies.

everybody pretends to care until they don't.

even angels need angels, [name].

i might be naive, but i feel their struggle.

why did you stop me from jumping?

this shit pit has taken everyone i've ever loved.

when a door closes, a window opens... or something like that.

i keep going back in time.

how could there be a more important moment in history?

thank you for trusting me.

hey... be careful out there.

what kind of friend are you?

you never understood me, or what happened to me.

i'll always be alone, thanks to you.

just in case we don't get out of this...

i'm going to make the right choices from now on.

i've been feeling like this might be actually the end of the world.

i hate to say that i'm glad to see you, but i'm glad to see you.

i wish i could stay in this moment forever... but then it wouldn't be a moment.

if that tornado came right now, i would just sit here and watch for a while.

i just feel like escaping.

i have total faith that you'll do the right thing when the time comes.

with great power comes great bullshit.

am i pushing myself too hard?

you like to hurt people, huh?

i'm glad you decided to escort me.

i know this is a bad time, but can i get one picture?

of course i believe you. you're the most amazing person i've ever met, and i'm glad you trust me.

i don't have a fucking clue what's going on.

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reareaotaku · 7 months

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You Stupid Bitch!

Summary: Billy can't be Ghostface, you just won't accept the truth, and neither will he. Why throw away everything you both have over a few dead bodies? Characters: Yandere! Billy Loomis x Reader Tw: Gaslighting & Manipulation

The wind was blowing harsher than it normally did or maybe it was the anticipation. You felt Billy's lean, slick hand graze up your back as he softly kisses your neck. You pull back a little, causing him to glare at you, but he quickly shakes it off.

He decides to lay his head on your neck, while his hand intertwines with yours. You can feel his gaze, but you decide not to give him the satisfaction. You're scared of him and you know he can sense it. He smells the fear reeking off of you like smoke.

Randy was talking about something, but you weren't listening to him. You were too busy thinking about the man that was breathing down your neck.

"Right Y/n?"

You snap out of your head and look up at Randy, who was looking at you, waiting on you to respond. "Uh, Yeah... Sure." You shiver when feeling Billy's icy breath on your neck; It makes your hair stand.

"So, you think Friday the 13th is better than Nightmare on Elm Street?"

"Sure-"

"You think some Mommy's Boy who comes out when people are fucking is better than a man who kills you in his dreams?"

"Isn't Freddy a Pedophile, though? Isn't that why he was burned?"

Randy rolls his eyes, "It's a horror movie, they're all bad."

"Well, Jason drowned in the lake because the counselors were to busy fucking instead of watching the kids-"

"Oh please, cry me a river. Some kids bully you, so you should go after innocent people?" Randy sits down close to you, causing Billy to push himself against you and look over at Randy, while still leaning on your shoulder.

"Why do you have such a hard on for Freddy?"

Randy turns towards Sidney, shaking his head, "I do not have a hard on. But how can anyone think Jason is better than Freddy?"

"I mean I like the Nightmare on Elm Street movies better than Friday the 13th, but when it comes to the characters as people, I'd prefer Jason." You then bite your lip, "Expect Johnny Depp in the first movie. He looks mmmm.... so good-"

You feel a squeeze on your waist and you straighten up.

"But not as good as you, Billy. No one will ever look as good as you"

You hear a chuckle and a sarcastic laugh. Billy glare tightens on Randy.

"Something funny?"

"No," Randy quickly shakes his head. "Nothing at all."

-----

"Why are you so stressed?"

"I'm not stressed-"

Billy pushes near your scapula and a pop sounds in your ear. You groan, though before you can say anything, Billy slowly engraves his fingers into the knot and slowly rubbing back and forth. He presses down firmly and starts making circle motions with the tips.

"What's got you so worked up?"

"N-n-it's nothing."

He lifts up your hair, kissing your neck, "You seem... scared. Are you scared of me, Baby?"

"Should I be?" You question, not looking at him.

He caresses your cheek, sliding his thumb gently against you. "I would never hurt you."

"I'd like to believe that," You mumble to yourself, but he heard you.

"You think I'd hurt you?" He lets go of you and turns you around, caressing your face, "Why would I do that? Do you think I'm some kind of killer? Because, I'm no killer, Y/n. Maybe... Just maybe, people keep placing things in your mind, making you believe I killed people-"

"No one told me anything." You grab his hand as he glares at you.

"Y/n, I'm not a killer. You're painting me as some villain." He pulls his hand out of your grasp and taps your forehead. "I'm not a villain Y/n."

"Okay."

His brows frown, "Okay? That's all?"

"Yeah." You shrug, "There's nothing else to say. If you say you're not a killer, then I believe you," You walk past him and back to your room as he watches you like a hawk.

#yandere scream #scream x reader #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #billy x reader #billy loomis x you #billy loomis imagine #yandere x reader #yandere billy loomis #yandere billy x reader #yandere billy loomis x reader #yandere imagines

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rafesapologist · 9 months

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the set up — rafe cameron; part eight

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: swearing, mature themes, angst, sad-ish rafe, smut (minors DO NOT INTERACT, 18+)

author's note: this one is to (hopefully) make up for having to cut the last chapter short due to personal stuff. enjoy my loves

You were pissed at JJ.

Matter of fact, it was much more than that; you loathed him. He was supposed to be your best friend, your confidant, yet he was too caught up within his fit of jealousy to realize that your time with Rafe Cameron was merely an act for the sake of your friends' livelihood. Hell, if anyone knew that it should have been JJ considering he was half of the reason the whole scheme was conspired in the first place.

You wondered what his real problem was and where it came from, considering that he had never treated you like less than until you brought up going to Midsummers with Rafe. From internal dialogue, you demanded answers and to know what had him so affronted. Out of all people, you assumed that he would have your back through the entire plan, however he was doing quite the opposite.

"I can't fucking believe him. I mean - Who does he think he is?" You remonstrated, a scowl tainting your facial features ever so palpably.

"Relax princess," Rafe let out a soft partly suppressed laugh, "how does he have you this riled up in the first place?"

Despite your indignation, you froze at his question. You knew that you couldn't flat out tell him the real reason why you and JJ got into it, for obvious reasons, so what was the next best option? Lie.

"He told me I was spending too much time with Pope and got mad at me." You blurted out before you could actually think about what you were really saying. You avoided eye contact with Rafe in hopes that he wouldn't find any evidence of deception in your expression, opting to completely circumvent his observing gaze by shifting your body away from him while you blankly stared out the car window.

"Pope? I don't think I ever see you with him unless JJ is around too." His brows furrowed.

"I mean I am close with him kind of," you added, "I used to study with him all the time after school, cause he's like a genius or whatever. But it wasn't like that. Pope's too innocent." You shrugged, your words spewing from your lips with little to no thought as your only goal was to steer the boy away from any suspicion of you.

"Are you sure it's nothing more than that?

Your eyes widened in disbelief as your head snapped towards Rafe's direction while he continued to drive, "Are you serious?" You catechized in a state of dubiety.

"Just wondering." The sandy-haired boy stated as though he asked nothing wrong, which only seemed to set you off more on top of your prior situation at hand.

"For your information, no it's not more than that, and two, why do you care?" You folded your arms in your seat as you turned to face Rafe with intent to interrogate him on his unappreciated inquisitiveness.

"Don't ask questions you already know the answer to." He glanced over at you with a suggestive look written on his face and in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine and planted those same old butterflies in your stomach.

"Well, I did ask." You pestered in hopes it would provoke some sort of reaction out of him, which seemed to be easy for you to do.

"I just don't think you deserve to settle for some Pogue dude who can't come close to giving you a real future." Rafe kept his eyes pointed straight ahead onto the road in front of him as he spoke, making you wonder if he just havering or not.

"And what, you can?" You scoffed.

"I would." He declared in a way that implied to you that he was more than sure of himself and what exactly he was promising to you, although it seemed rather delusive and improbable to happen.

"Yeah. I'm sure you tell every girl that." You heaved a displeased sigh to yourself as you slouched back into your seat, refusing to believe that the Rafe Cameron, the Kook Prince himself, would genuinely be the type to go out of his way to make the effort for any woman, unless he was trying to sleep with her.

"You really have no faith in me, pretty girl." Rafe breathed out a half-hearted chuckle at your lack of credence in his word, however he must have taken some amusement in your incredulity judging by the way his continual smirk stayed present on his face.

"Shut up, Cameron. Just take me home."

"I have a better idea, first." He replied, his lips curling up into a suppressed thin-lip smile.

"Great. Now I'm being kidnapped too." You rolled your eyes once more, rubbing your forehead in distress.

"It's not kidnapping if you willingly got in my car, y/n."

"It's kidnapping if you're taking me places I didn't agree to go to!" You protested, flailing your hands in the air at him, which of course only earned you a chuckle on his part.

"Would you rather me take you back to JJ?" Rafe threatened flippantly as the car suddenly pulled into yet another empty parking lot. Typical.

"Would have rathered you take me home but whatever." You mumbled to yourself with your arms still folded over your chest as you peered up from your seat to observe your new surroundings, which deemed foreign to you.

"Rafe- Why are we at another parking lot? You know you're really not clever with your date ide-"

"Just trust me." Rafe shushed as he turned the car off and exited, only to meet you at the passenger side door to open it for you as he had done previously. Sure it was an almost banal thing of him to do, but you had to admit that part of you enjoyed his acts of courtesy.

You remained hesitant with him, however your curiosity was a much greater component in you decision making that had led you to following him anyways. You treaded closely behind him as he headed into the direction of a purportedly seclusive area of a place that appeared to lead to a beach, judging by the way that sand had come into your view. You fumbled through a small patch of dead trees as you made your way to a wide open shore with an absence of debris that beaches you had seen normally had.

"This is where I usually go to get away." Rafe suddenly confessed while he took in the scenic view ahead of him.

"So this is the spot you take all your hookups to. Nice." You nodded with your lips pressed together, confused as to why you were even there in the first place.

"You're so stubborn, you know that?" He rolled his eyes, sighing as he sat down on an individual log that rested in the sand.

"So I've been told."

"Just come sit with me." Rafe gingerly pleaded to you while he combed a hand through his straight locks that displayed blends of wheaty and brown undertones, combining to create a dimensional shade of dirty blond that was unique to his features, "Please?"

You wanted to resist his request initially and continue your usual back-and-forth banter that the two of you always kept up with, however you saw something different in Rafe's eyes when he asked you to sit with him. A new candor that had washed over him that had you obeying his call.

Both of you had sat besides each other for a few minutes, basking in each other's silence as the sounds of the distant waves crashed upon the shore harmoniously. You kept your gaze directly at the view of the ocean ahead, your fingers interlocked under your knees while you sat with your legs up to your chest as you took in the scenery around you. Although your vision was aimed at the oceanfront, you could feel the burning stare of those familiar azure eyes trained onto you, causing your body temperature to rise rapidly.

"I came here a lot when I was younger." Rafe broke the silence abruptly, causing you to snap your head in his direction with your brows furrowed in confusion. "To get away from my parents when they were fighting, and sometimes from Sarah." He continued on, a quiet dry laugh escaping his rosy-pink lips.

"Why did you need to get away from them?" You asked rather lowly, scared to say the wrong thing in such an earnest moment.

The blond sighed deeply in response as his eyes began to scan the area ahead of him intently before he spoke. "They fought a lot, my mom and dad. Sometimes to the point where I thought they were going to kill each other," his nose wrinkled as a display of discomfort, "but I was the oldest so everyone expected me to protect Sarah and Wheezie when things got bad like that, and I did. Every single time. But, what I think they failed to realize was that it was just as uneasy for me to witness as it was them. I didn't wanna see or hear them fight either, but I had no choice. I needed to get away from it at some point, so I started coming here."

Your lips formed into a significant frown as he spoke, taking in his shattering words and that cold look that casted over his face that you knew was only to cover up from the pain he felt reliving the events he was describing. You would have never guessed there was so much hiding beneath that posh demeanor of his, however you felt as though there was more that had yet to be said.

"Did they ever notice when you'd run away like that?" You asked sheepishly.

"Nobody noticed when I was gone. They were only concerned when they needed me for something again." Your heart began to break piece-by-piece as Rafe's revelations had began to unfold slowly. The tragedy in what he was telling you was beginning to make your throat swell as tears threatened your eyes, asking yourself how a family could be so cruel to one of their own, a scenario you were quite familiar with yourself.

"It only ended once they finally got divorced and my mother ran away back to her hometown," Rafe seemed to wince at the statement, scratching the back of his head to mask his reaction, "I never saw or heard from her again after that. Honestly I couldn't tell you if she was alive or dead right now, crazy as it sounds."

You pressed your lips together into a thin line once they began to quiver as you digested Rafe's story. You forced yourself to look away from him and focus your attention to your hands that fiddled in your lap, knowing that if you looked at him any longer you would surely lose your composure.

"Rafe.. I-I'm so sorry." You breathed out quietly, a weakness in your voice that made him turn his head to observe the state that you were in. It was safe to say that he was staring at you once again, considering the intensity of his glare could be felt from miles away, but you refused to look up and reveal to him how much distress the detailed account of his previous life had put you in.

"My experience isn't quite the same as yours, but I understand your pain, Rafe. In a sense, I do." You uttered with your eyes glued to the sand below your feet.

"What do you mean?" Rafe asked, watching you keenly as you spoke.

"My family is pretty fucked up, too. Not in the same exact way as yours may be, but still, fucked." You let out a dry laugh, kicking the sand between your toes away from you, "My mother is verbally abusive and neglectful, and my dad is just, barely ever home. Sometimes I wonder if it's because he's trying to get away from her, although I wouldn't blame him for that, but I needed him many times in my life and he was never there. Plenty of times she was saying these God awful things to me, tearing me down for most of my life, and the one person who was supposed to be there to protect me just... Wasn't." You shook your head as it hung low to the ground, fighting off the urge to cry that overcame you as you recalled the burning memory of your childhood.

"It's not my place to speak on what they went through, but JJ and John B came from homes similar to mine. Absent, hell even abusive if that's what you wanna call it, parents. We basically raised ourselves, I mean we still are essentially. At times I would think that I still don't know any better than that nine year old girl who wondered how she was going to make it in life given the circumstances she was put into. Part of me will always resent my parents for doing this to me." Your voice cracked as you spoke, a queasy feeling building up in your stomach as you basically bared your soul to some boy from Figure Eight.

"Hey," Rafe cooed as he placed his large hand ontop of your thigh, "just because you were dealt with a bad hand growing up doesn't mean you are subjected to a bad life, y/n. They can't determine how far you're going to go, and you'll sure as hell get a lot farther than them I'm sure."

"Rafe," you shooked your head at him as you quickly wiped a single tear that escaped your eye, "I live on the Cut. I'd have to work two jobs to even come close to being comfortable, and even then, it still wouldn't be enough to get by long term. I have to work ten times harder than anyone else on this island because of the situation I was born into, the family I was born into. It'll be a hassle for the rest of my life. I don't get to live in a mansion and own some fancy yacht because my dad has the money, I wasn't given that privilege in life."

Your words wounded Rafe a little bit, as much as he hated to admit, but he knew you had a point and for that he couldn't be mad at you for it. He knew you were at an unfair disadvantage simply because of who your parents were and what little effort they made into giving you a congenial life, and it hurt him knowing you were made to suffer because of other people's foolish mistakes and selfishness.

"You deserve a happy life just as much as anyone else, actually probably even more than most." The blue-eyed boy urged with ardent feelings present in his tone.

"You're just saying that." You rolled your eyes half-heartedly, nudging him softly in disagreement to his statement.

"I'm not, y/n. I mean it, genuinely. You've been through so much and here you are, still so lively and caring. Most people in your shoes would have let their past turn them heartless, but you.. You're infectious and kind despite having gone through hell. I don't think you give yourself enough credit for that." His words were sweet and genuine in a way that had your heart practically melting in his hands, a feeling you had yet to feel so authentically as you did in that moment as you sat there on a vacant beach, staring into the mesmerizing lazuline eyes of Rafe Cameron.

Your lips stayed slightly parted subconsciously as you found yourself getting lost in the current moment that was unfolding between you and the Kook Prince himself, a scene you never would have imagined yourself being in three weeks before. You watched as his pupils widened, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your swollen lips. His free hand ghosted your forearm as it made its way up to your cheek, wiping the reminisce of tears that trailed down your face. You peered up at him coyly, staring back at him through your eyelashes as you gently rested your head into his warm open hand while his thumb slowly caressed the soft skin.

"So beautiful." Rafe whispered under his breath as he looked at you with full admiration that made your legs feel weak. You weren't entirely sure why, perhaps it had been the vulnerability you were subjected to in that moment, but you felt like crying again. This time however, it wasn't from sadness or pain, but relief. A relief that for the first time in your entire life, someone had saw you for who you were and was willing to provide you a safety net for you to let down your walls and fall freely into them. Sure your friends came close to it, but with Rafe it was far different. The feeling was intense and invoked a child-like excitement, even joy, out of you. It made you feel giddy inside, as though you couldn't help but smile in his presence even when he wasn't saying a word.

The scent of a warm spice and musk fragrance invaded your space and filled the air around you, tangling you into an inebriated trance fueled by the essence of desire and impulse. You felt as though you were being taunted by Rafe's refusal to move from the position he was in, yet igniting a flame inside of you by his voluptuary touch. It was clear that he was waiting for your invite despite knowing you had craved his taste once before, but he needed your to confirm that the drive to do so was still lingering inside of you. He watched as you took matters into your own hands and climbed back onto his lap, a seat that had basically become yours after the moment the two of you had in his car.

Unlike the time before, you wanted this moment to be one of undescribable vehement, like you had never been touched properly in your lifetime. Rafe remained silent and kept his eyes glued to you and your figure, holding your hips steady against his waist.

"I know you're going to think I'm crazy for saying this right now, but Rafe," you swallowed hard as you struggled to form a coherent sentence under his stare, "I'm ready for this now."

He chuckled tauntingly, "Ready for what, pretty girl?"

"Don't make me say it." You whined, throwing your head back in aggravation.

"Dunno what you're talking about, angel." Rafe smirked as he shrugged, attempting to act as though he was blissfully unaware to the way that your hips your bucked up against him impatiently.

"I want you, idiot." You rolled your eyes at him, groaning as the tension grew unbearably painful between your thighs as the fabric of his khakis rubbed against you.

"Really? I couldn't tell." The devilish boy formed a smug look across his face as he took notice of your eagerness to get ahold of him. He scanned your frame, noticing the hazy look that had clouded over your normally doe-like eyes. Rafe was a man of great strength, but when it came to you, he was putty in your hands.

"Rafe, do something, please." You begged, unable to fully move your hips as he held onto them firmly, keeping you in place.

"Tell me what you want me to do and I will, princess." He murmured into your ear lowly as his lips ghosted your neck before landing onto the sweet spot he had found on you before, immediately earning a whimper to escape your lips quietly.

"Touch me, anything." You answered vaguely as your impatience consumed you more and more by the second, unable to contain the burning in your core.

"Hmm, where do you want me to touch you?" His voice remained low a husky, enough to make you want to collapse in his arms. You removed your hand from behind his neck and snaked it down to the side of your hip, grabbing one of his wrists and re-positioning it right along the center between your thighs.

Your mouth fell agape as Rafe obeyed your wishes and began moving his fingers up and down your blazing core, adding more pressure as your hips grinded against his long digits. Heat rushed to your cheeks at the realization of what exactly you were doing, except you were far too into it to care about the reality of it afterwards. You found that your desire only increased as he teased you through the fabric of your shorts, agonizingly. Without a second thought, you placed your hand onto of his and laced your fingers together, forcing him to speed up his movements and add even more pressure.

Rafe seemed to have taken note of your demands as he removed his hand and began unbuckling your denim shorts swiftly before sliding his fingers underneath your lace thong briskly. Your head fell back instinctively, soft moans escaping your lips that fueled Rafe's ego proudly. He found himself stuck in a daze as he watched you fall under the spell of his trained fingers as they massaged through your folds hastily, causing you to press your hips against him more as they bucked up against his hands.

Just when you found prodigious pleasure in the way Rafe's fingers felt against you, shock waves coursed through your body like electricity once you felt two of his lengthy digits curl up inside of you. Your eyes rolled back, taking in the bliss that was Rafe Cameron's two fingers thrusting into you at a pace that made your legs feel like jello. Your moans became erratic and uncontrollable as the sandy-haired boy pushed his fingers up further into you, gliding them in and out rapidly as he continuously pressed against your cervix with force.

"Does that feel good, princess?" Rafe mumbled against your collarbone as he kissed along the prominent bone passionately, trying to withhold himself from losing control of his own.

"Don't stop." You whined as you begged him to continue, grinding against his fingers keenly with hopes to feel as much of him as you possible could, a state of euphoria approaching you slowly.

"R-Rafe, I can't take it." You pleaded, wincing as his pace continued to fasten inside of you.

"C'mon angel, you can do it. You're almost there." He coaxed you softly as he sinisterly placed his thumb onto your clit and began unhesitatingly rubbing swift circles against it, sending your mind and body into a frenzy.

You placed your hands onto his shoulders and gripped onto them tightly as you began to reach your peak, your thighs shaking and your legs giving out as the muscles within them began to spasm uncontrollably. A throbbing feeling reached your core as you continued grinding against Rafe's fingers with speed as you chased your high, your moans becoming explicit and noisy.

"Cum on my fingers, baby, it's okay. Let it out." Rafe ushered as he kept up his movements while your body convulsed against him, feeling as rush go through your body as explosions set off within your core region. You felt an immense release as you came undone along his fingers, crying out as you felt an overwhelming amount of pleasure take over your body.

Rafe removed his hand out of you, buttoning your shorts back up and zipping them for you as he pecked your cheek gently.

"Are you okay?" He asked, scanning your features for any sign of pain or distress.

"Mm, yeah I'm good." You wearily hummed as you collapsed into him, burying your face into the crook of his neck while you closed your eyes, taking in the events that had just occured as well as the aftermath of the pleasure that obtained your body.

The hubristic boy chuckled at your state of defeat, "You did good, pretty girl." A small, thin lipped smile formed at the corners of his mouth as he caressed up your hips and thighs slowly, "C'mon I know you're tired, I'll take you home, or wherever. I've gotta head back to my place, anyways."

"Why?" You groaned, not wanting to removing yourself from the daydream you were currently in.

"My dad texted me, said he needs my help tonight." Rafe shrugged.

"Did he say with what?" You asked, reality now coming back to you at the mention of his infamous father.

"Yeah, sort of. He said he needed help moving some cargo onto this ship he owns. I guess it's heavy." Rafe's words came out rather bluntly and plain, as though he was talking about the weather or his weekly schedule. His statement replayed in your head a few times before you sat up and attempted to make sense of what he was talking about.

"Like just random stuff?" You questioned, pining for further answers as the topic sparked your interest and concern.

"Yes and no," he scratched the back of his head, scrunching up his nose as he lowered his voice, "but if I tell you, promise me you won't run back to your Pogue friends and tell them." Rafe asserted with seriousness, staring into your eyes as he held the sides of your arms firmly.

"Okay," you held your hands up in defense, causing his body to relax, "I promise I won't."

"See my dad and I took this trip to the bahamas a while ago, he said it was a business trip and that he wanted me to tag along for whatever reason. Come to find out, as soon as we get there, he tells me about this gold he has hidden and how he wants me to help him ship it to Switzerland so that nobody else can get ahold of it, since it's ours anyway."

Your body froze in place, staring back at Rafe was those horrifying words slipped out of his mouth without a second thought as he found sanctuary within you, despite the lack of longevity in your relationship thus far. You thought about your friends all of the sudden, and your mouth felt dry, knowing that this was exactly what they needed to know and stop before Rafe and his dad could put them in a position where the gold would be out of their reach for good.

You felt an immense pressure with the new information given to you, a burden weighing heavy on your shoulders. Your mind raced as you replayed his statement over and over again, wondering what you should do and who you should tell first, eager to relay the word back to your friends as soon as possible.

"Oh, okay that makes sense." You let out a small, half-hearted laugh, rubbing your upper arm slowly. "But, uh, Rafe?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you just drop me off at the chateau? I think I'm gonna sleep there tonight.

taglist: @ellesalazar, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm, @abundantxadorations, @fals3-g0d, @gillybear17, @oiiviagrande, @hockeybabe87, @augustlikesdeath, @wpdailyminimeta, @palmwinemami, @loxleys-blog, @ikisscline, @flyestvenustrap, @lonelyladyghost, @edance2000,

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anika-ann · 25 days

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Ocaruj me (Bewitch Me) - S.R.

Type: medieval/fantasy/fairy tale AU; drabbl-ish; a part of this pseudo-medieval-fantasy AU

Pairing: knight Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 2k

Summary: Knight Steven Rogers is a man with love. That love is you. His beautiful lady who bewitched his soul even without the supernatural powers you possess. He'll follow you anywhere.

It that means bathing in a lake in a moonlight, so be it.

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, unprotected sex (shocking in medieval times huh), bit of angst, fluff, knight Steve ‘cause he’s a warning, Slovak language ‘cause I can

A/N: Actual title is Očaruj mě (Bewitch Me) ...tumblr cannot handle a "č" and an “ě“ in their title 🙃 DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; inspired by THIS ask (you can find headcanons and a playlist there)

A/N 2: Chronologically fits before the events of Pomiluj mě, but if you read this first, you will spoil some of the reveals.

Magic is a dark evil thing; that is what all knights of the kingdom are reminded during their studies and training.

Magic is the wicked twine that curls around your wrist when you reach out a hand, grips you tight and drags you towards perdition.

Magic takes face of a twisted beauty, a temptress, and leads you down the path of sin with a smile worth of the Devil himself.

Magic only knows curses and wrongs.

Sir Steven Rogers knows these axioms by heart.

Steve knows they are horseshit; or at least fail to fulfil the basic rule of an axiom, which is supposed to be universality.

In Steve’s eyes, people are corrupted by many things, amongst which there is the power that comes with magic. That much is true. But the nature of magic itself is pure; t reveals the person wielding it and amplifies who they already are.

Steve would only agree with part of the axiom second to last, assured whenever he sees you. He would now too, standing near the bank of a lake, still fully clothed, his gaze inevitably drawn to the enticing image in front of him.

You, standing to the waist in the water, dressed in but the luxurious robe of moonlight caressing your skin and wearing the lake like the richest skirt; your hair cascading down freely like an elaborate veil, the commonly dark ink of your tattoo reaching from the side of your neck down your shoulder shinning bright.

When you glance over your shoulder, eyes glimmering more entrancingly than the moon and the stars combined, lips curling in a smile, the last thing Steve would compare you to would be the Devil, a dark evil thing.

The truth, however, is that if you did decide to drag him towards his end, he would follow voluntarily, heart pounding just as hard as it is now, with warmth in his chest and searing heat in is gut.

When you speak his name, a sweet ‘rytier moj’, you indeed are every bit of a temptress, the seductress steering him toward the most beautiful of sins; but not in the name of evil.

In the name of love.

“How is it that you are not cold, bosorka moja? And by gods, remind me, love, why is it that I should follow?” he asks with a grin on his lips, as if he does not feel every ounce of his body being pulled to you by the alluring image of you alone, by the promise of the feel of your skin under his fingertips, of the taste of your lips, of your wickedly delicate hands touching him in ways no unwed lovers should.

You have told him there was a deeper meaning in bathing in that particular lake on this very night, but as fascinated as he always is by your faiths and magic, you have been convincing him with your lips whispering to his own, causing his memory to be considerably less reliable, his mind much more pliant.

You turn around to face him fully, your watery skirt swirling; Steve’s mouth turns dry at the sight of your stiff nipples and plump breasts, his last reservations dispersing as his pants become uncomfortably tight.

“For this lake is believed to possess supernatural properties, rytier moj. For I know it does,” you remind him gently, your gaze trailing down his body in appreciation as he sheds his cloak, his tunic and pants.

You once told him what you saw when he did and have aided him in recalling it quite frequently.

Beauty.

Strength.

Goodness.

Safety.

Home.

And desires personified.

Steve is only a man; all these are virtues in his mind, privileges, and the one that is not makes him preen all the more.

Dark eyes glimmering in the moonlight, your smile earns a teasing edge even as your words begin with gravity.

“Bathing in the light of the full moon nearest to the summer solstice makes one stronger. Something my knight might appreciate. I know I for sure would, since he insists on recklessly risking his life.”

His own lips curl up, heart humming with tenderness; he is cared for. He is worried about. He is loved. He is not the only one who has the comfort of a lover on their mind. Perhaps it is for ‘lovers’ is not quite the word fit for where his heart quivers in the matter of you and him. Not the only word.

Desire personified.

Gorgeous temptress.

But also beloved.

Láska moja.

Bosorka moja.

Home.

“All knights do, bosorka moja,” he says as he steps into the water, the liquid welcoming him with an unexpected sensation of cold and warmth combined.

Where his skin meets the water, immersed deeper with each tentative step on the invisible rocky floor, he is enveloped with an unfamiliar sensation, the warmth seeping into his skin almost violently, leaving gentle tingling in its wake.

His lungs expand. His heart thunders. His muscles ache until they feel as light as a feather. His large bones seem to harden, his joints feel stronger but pliant. His blood pumps vigorously, forcing a shuddering breath out of his chest.

Well, he’ll be damned; he would be if he wasn’t so blessed. He would never doubt you again. Not that he ever truly did.

You watch him, a hypnotic and hypnotizing gaze, soaked in the satisfaction and desire having thickened your tenderness. Your skin almost glows and Steve understands that his eyes were not deceiving him earlier. He is not the only one absorbing power; yours might be different in nature from his, so different and ethereal, a true force of nature, but a power nevertheless. And as you soaked in the water, your immense power grew further.

“And yet, I have not seen any knight, soldier or mercenary, nor the clumsiest commoner with as many scars, nor I saved them from so many,” you oppose him, still playful; yet, your voice has earned a husky quality Steve is drawn to like a mot to a flame, his steps growing confident.

For almost every step he takes, you take one back, away from him, sinking deeper, hiding your tempting body from his hungry sight. A delightful feigned chase begins, one of which you both know will only end in bodies intertwined. A dance Steve knows, for he has felt its thrill before, for he has danced with you before; he has danced lips to lips, hands to hips, hips to hips, lips attached to your mound with hooded eyes too, senses enveloped with heady primal need, laced with love both corporal and intangible.

It all hums within him, pounds with force bolstered by the magic surrounding him. You feel it too; he reads as much in your features.

“You haven’t seen them naked either,” he notes, a slight smile remaining.

The conversation continues even as it fades.

You hum with a smile of your own, stopping at last as takes three long strides and catches up with you, gazing up at him with a sweet challenge he cannot refuse. “That is true, rytier moj.”

But that is not what your body whispers, already miles ahead when only inches from him.

Touch me, it coaxes him instead.

Hold me.

Love me.

Have me.

Fill me.

Make me sing for you. Only for you.

Do as you crave; I crave the same, just as much.

Who is he to deny a lady? Who is he to deny you, especially when the wordless pleas entice him, please him, echo his own?

The slight prickle of strength reborn, one unknown to ordinary men, still heats his very core, his lips speaking on their own even as his fingers wander with purpose, over the skin of your waist, down your hip, over your belly button, to your sternum, over the swell of your breast, stepping closer to feel your hardened peaks brush against his chest, eliciting a breathy sound of his name amongst his questions.

“What of other blessed nights bathing in this lake? Equinoxes as well?”

Your hands move with purpose too; mapping the constellations of freckles and moles on his body, caressing the planes of strengthened muscle with teasing lightness. Your touch is surprisingly warm, Steve realizes distantly, his head and hands full of you; if he did not know better, if he did not know you were a witch, he would think you an entirely different magical species.

As you nod and explain, your hand rises above water, stroking over his shoulder – the water follows seemingly effortlessly, swirling and curling around your palm; even as you speak, he shudders under the touch where your hands could not have possibly reached him, not at so many places at once; and yet, every single of these caresses are just as warm, loving and teasing as those of your own fingers.

With how you bended the water to your will, Steve would have thought you were born to do so. He would have thought he found himself a water nymph instead. His breathtaking, enchantingly playful water nymph.

“Bathing in the lake on a new moon nearing the spring equinox breeds rebirth, ridding of all old aches, body and heart,” you explain quietly, intimately, as your fingers tease along the dip along his hips, his own hands grasping your soft flesh with urgency growing. “First new moon after the autumn equinox calls upon the forest spirits, their protection, bringing the wiseness of our ancestors with their blessings.”

Steve’s head is full of you; your words, almost fairy-tale like, but spoken with reverence of a person who knows them true, whose rituals has called upon the forces of nature and has been rewarded for it, blessed by them.

His hands are full of you too and as his heart sings.

The rest of his body vibrates with need, impatient fingers slipping lower, towards your core, teasing alongside your slit. Even as he asks the only natural question, his focus is elsewhere, fingertip dipping into your welcoming heat, his lips whispering against yours, your hips eagerly meeting his touch.

“And what of winter solstice, bosorka moja? Tell me,” he coaxes, revelling in your playful touch turning into a grip on his hip instead, other hand wrapping around his own to urge him to sink his finger deeper, for another to join.

Who is he to deny you again? His bewitching water nymph, whose heat would envelop him just as welcomingly as the water of the lake and fill him with just as much exceptional powerful sensation...

Love her.

Take her.

Protect her.

Make her mine.

“It keeps your heart warm,” you sigh, mouth chasing after his, fingertips finally brushing over his hardness, curling around the length and squeezing and twisting enough for his strained muscles to melt, rushing to lift your leg to wrap around his waist, opening you up for him, your taste, your scent, your husky voice like the most tempting trap he rushes into with vigour and pride. “Keeps your love safe. On the full moon close--- oh Steve— closest to the solstice- preserving it even through the— the harshest of winters----Steven!

The steady movements of his fingers stutter at the needy pulsing grip around them, eliciting another and another, his thumb brushing over your clit, mouth slanting over yours to swallow your cries of ecstasy, cradling your head to his as your hips keep rocking into his hand. You’ll feel like heaven, like you always do, but the burst inside him at feeling your pleasure coaxed by him is almost, almost enough.

“I’ll be here,” he promises against your lips, kissing you again, tipping your head back, your body so gorgeously pliant to his greedy touch. “I will be here, with you, every quarter a year. Every month, every day, love.”

“Ľubim ťa,” you gasp and Steve makes another promise, to not meet you here, but bring you. Bring you from your shared home at last, because even by the damn equinox, he will have done you right, a ring on your finger, his everything made yours, as you deserve.

“Ľubim ťa, bosorka moja,” he whispers back, a chuckle escaping him when his eyes flutter open, offered a sight of soft sprinkles and curls of water rising above the surface and glimmering in the moonlight.

Your magic exploding outside of you as pleasure fills your veins.

Steve is certain it will never cease to amaze him; or spur him to coax something even more fascinating when chasing his own peak and yours together, even as that alone is a gift he cherishes.

Your hands slide to his shoulders for leverage as his fingers leave you empty, moving to your bottom to lift you up, sliding in almost effortlessly.

No words are needed then. As you connect your bodies and souls alike, the water keeps dancing.

You glow behind Steve’s hooded eyes, tattoo shining as bright as your affection, beauty and goodness, a reminder that no, magic could not be further from the darkness in corporal form. In every waking moment, he would swear he has never seen, nor heard, nor felt anything more beautiful and lighter than you, even with a face and voice of a temptress you embody.

The only sin you have led him to, the only speckle of shame on his honour, is the one he will remedy soon and has nothing do with your magical nature.

No, not the Devil; a goddess in your own right.

And you have not cursed him, no. Sir Steven Rogers, tvoj rytier, entirely bewitched, feels blessed.

Other headcanon and playlist

S.R. masterlist - contains other knight!Steve fics, independent of this universe

Complete masterlist

Terms of endearment from Slovak language: Rytier moj (My knight) Bosorka moja (Witch mine) Láska moja (Love mine) Ľubim ťa (I love you)

I hope you enjoyed, loves 💕 Please consider leaving feedback/reblog/anything if you did 🥰

May April be kind to you 🌼✨

#steve rogers x reader #knight steve rogers #knight steve rogers x you #knight steve rogers imagine #knight steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #captain america au #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #medeival au #fantasy au #fairy tale au #ocaruj me #bewitch me #pomiluj me #love me tender #anika ann

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theapangea · 8 months

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Missed You Too

Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: You finally kiss Steve.

A/N: Ok this is one that I posted on AO3 after the end of the last season. Obviously I had to write something good for Steve because they do my boy so dirty!! HE IS NOT SOMEONES SECOND CHOICE!! Hope you enjoy my loves <3!!

The past week was a blur. You didn’t expect your first college spring break to end with you racing back to Hawkins to see the aftermath of what Venca…? One…? Henry…caused. You didn’t want to entirely believe that the Upside Down still existed, that the gate was still open after you all fought so hard to close it time and time again. That’s why you chose to leave Hawkins in the first place, moving across the country to get away from the horrors of that small town.

But when Jonathan, Will, and Mike show up at your door, pleading for your help to find Eleven, you couldn’t just turn your back on them, not then, not ever.

You didn’t even know that Joyce, Eleven, and the boys moved to California shortly after you did. No one bothering to stay in touch, mostly you didn’t bother to stay in touch. Almost like you intentionally separated yourself from the people you were closest to. You would never admit it, blaming the lack of communication on school.

The truth was, you didn’t want to be part of Hawkins anymore. You didn’t want to fear for your life. The scar that Hawkins left on your soul made you paranoid, made it hard for you to live a normal life. Always looking over your shoulder, always ready for a fight.

The drive back was like riding a bike, you could drive it blind folded if you had to. Everyone thought it would be best if you drove the last bit as Jonathan was barely able to stay awake at this point. The tall, full trees lined the only road in and out of Hawkins. Car after car rushing to escape the town as disaster stuck only nights before.

Passing shelters, destroyed homes, police and media, all lining the streets trying to make sense of the situation. If only they knew the truth.

The car swings around the curb, braking suddenly outside of the Wheeler house. You never thought you would be here again, at least not in this lifetime. Pausing, white knuckling the steering wheel as you hear the van door slide open. Mike, Eleven, Will, Argyle and Jonathan exiting the vehicle to be reunited with loved ones again. You take your time getting out of the pizza van, not sure if you wanted to see them, not sure if they wanted to see you .

Finding yourself staying by the van with Argyle. He was new, didn’t know about Hawkins and was thrown into this mess similar to how you all were. How could he continue to want to be part of this? Your gaze drifts down, your chest heaving rapidly. Your feet glued to the ground, unable to move from your spot.

Closing your eyes, trying to regain a sense of self. It shouldn’t matter that you left then, it should only matter that you are here now . Some relief washing over as you repeat that you are here now, you are here now, you are here now. The held breath releasing as you scan the scene in front of you, the warm breeze picking up making you draw the wild strands of hair behind your ears.

You watch as Mike hugs his mom, her eyes tender and soft, thanking the gods for him to be returned safely, stating how he is never allowed to leave home again. Her hands never leave his body, afraid that if she lets go then he will disappear without a trace again.

Jonathan approaches Nancy, both unsure of their relationship, both yearning for a solution - but still they hug, the sweet embrace almost made up for the long, angry phone calls and the absence spring break trip.

Jonathan told you all about his Nancy problems, hoping you would be able to help. He didn’t like your answer of honesty and communication, joking how you were never honest with your true feelings for a certain Hawkins boy. Quietly commenting that you should have made a move a long time ago to get him to move on from Nancy.

After all this time, you couldn’t believe he was still hung up on her. But maybe he was supposed to move on. Move on to someone who he spent all his time with, to the person he’d drop by at their house unannounced, to the girl who was so tired of the neverending nightmares that she did everything she could to move as far away as possible. Even if it meant breaking the heart of the person she was supposed to end up with.

And there he was…

Boy, was he a sight for sore eyes. The green-blue sweater with the rolled up sleeves to the washed out blue jeans hugging his hips in all the right places. The way his hair was so delicately placed, too messy to be considered neat, too neat to be considered messy. His eyes heartbroken, full of pain and anger. Full of every ounce of love that he is willing to give away in a heartbeat. Your soul aching for him.

His hand placed on the back of his neck, clearly hurt from the unfolding scene between Nancy and Jonathan. Robin’s hand pressing gently on his back, guiding him away.

You weren’t surprised that he still had feelings for her. A little annoyed, yes, but not surprised in any way. He would always talk about her, the way she laughed and talked and smiled. And it made you so angry back then. Realizing that the anger never left.

He hasn’t noticed you yet, his eyes fixated on the ground. Probably hoping to finally disappear. You feel the same. You were two passing ships in the night too afraid to let the other one know you were there, constantly turning off your lights, constantly dropping your sails.

The situation between you both was left pretty rocky. You could never decipher the tension between you both, was it love or indifference? Steve was always there for you and even supported your decision to leave Hawkins, even if that meant never seeing you ever again.

You promised to call each other once a week, which did happen until once a week turned into once a month and once a month turned into dozens of missed calls on both ends. Leaving you both hopeless and alone. Both trying to figure out adulthood without the comfort of a childhood friend.

Before pushing your body away from the car, you look over at Argyle for some sort of friendly relief. After hearing Jonathan complain about you never making a move on Steve, Argyle has been constantly encouraging you since. To not wait for any guy to make the first move, to create your own future. You were surprised at his wisdom.

His kind smile helps ease your nerves as your feet move one in front of the other, your heart beating so loud you can hear it in your ears. The drowning noise of your blood rushing through your body almost makes you want to turn around. Run away like the first time - but you were tired of running. Tired of the ‘what if situation’ that danced between you and Steve. This was your moment and there was no way you were going to turn back. Not this time.

Walking down the driveway, Mrs.Wheeler silently thanks you for helping bring Mike back home safely. Her hand lightly squeezes yours as you pass. Your lips curl, barely a smile forming as your mind is elsewhere.

Nancy watches as you walk by, her body still wrapped in Jonathan’s arms. Her mouth barely parted, maybe she wanted to say something but immediately regretted his decision to make any comment. The strong bond between you both broke when she started to date Steve…then Jonathan. You were civil with one another but you’ve barely spoken a sentence in the past three years. Neither of you wanting to resolve your years-long battle.

Robin’s and Steve’s gaze are on you. Stopping right in front of the pair, realizing you didn’t have a plan once you got to this point. Robin instantly beaming that bright smile that you missed so much. Her hug was intentional, like she was trying to squeeze all the events of this past week out of you. Cleansing you of all the horrors. Your arms wrap around his waist, pulling her deeper, knowing you needed her in that moment. Her comfort washing over you, giving you the strength you so desperately needed. She releases you, arm's length away, her smile inviting and safe.

Your eyes shifting to Steve. Swearing in that moment that he was smiling but immediately covering it with a cough and a snatch on the nose.

She squeezes your shoulders before walking away, giving you and Steve a little alone time. Even if that alone time was in front of half your friends.

“Hey.” You exhale, the tension growing between the two of you. The air suddenly still as his eyes studying your face, his fingers twitching every so slightly.

In one swift movement, grabbing your wrist, pulling you in for a hug. The instant smell of his cologne filling your head, making you dizzy with the smell of home. No words needed to be spoken between the two of you. He was just glad you were safe, finally in his arms.

You missed him.

Not just this past week, but for the past 8 months. He pulls you in closer, his body finally relaxing against yours. The breath of fresh air was everything you both needed, everything you have ever wanted, and everything you will ever need.

In this moment, you were his and he was yours. Everything was right with the world. All the trouble of this past week washes away, your minds clearing, seeing a future with only the two of you.

You both pull back, speaking in a silent conversation. Neither of you know how to respond in this situation. Both of you felt the buzz, the electricity, the love.

After all this time, it felt like you never left. The feelings for Steve came crumbling back down. You thought this was your chance, your only chance . Your body makes the decision for you, as your hand wraps around the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips.

Your breath instantly intertwines with his, every inhale pulling him closer and closer. Your other hand balling up into the soft fabric of his sweater as he deepens into you. His hand catching your cheek, his lips soft and warm, gentle yet demanding. The craving of his touch on your skin sends heat waves throughout your body.

He takes his time, wanting to remember this moment. All the uncertain feelings, all the unfinished conversations, crashing down all around you both. Kissing him was the only way you could tell him everything you had kept in for all these years.

He pulls back, resting his forehead on yours, pure eyes as he whispers, “I missed you too.”

~~~

I hope you enjoyed!! thank you for reading and supporting me

#Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington fanfic #Stranger Things x reader #Reader insert #Stranger things #Robin Buckley #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x fem #Theapangea #steve harrington #mike wheeler #will byers #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #argyle stranger things

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lina-lovebug · 1 year

Text

You Are Mine, pt. 2

Background: Reader is Neytiri sister and has mated with Quaritch.

Stuff in italics in the Na'vi language

Warning: sex, mentions of sex, hurtful language

"Miles," I moaned, completely connected to him both spiritually and physically.

He didn't want to connect us in a lab, so he unlocked my chains and carried me out into the forest. But before we could connect, I wanted to feel my home again. My feet beating against the forest floor, my hair howling in the wind - it was home.

He laid me down gently against the grass and kissed me. His mouth ventured past my lips, down my neck to my breasts, and down to where I could not even begin to describe such pleasure.

"I love you," I breathed out, my eyes staring into his as he stretched me out.

"I love you too," and I believed him. The look of complete ecstasy and love in his eyes told me the truth, and I sang his name like it was a chant.

Miles Quaritch couldn't believe that this had happened to him. He never felt like the hateful man he saw in the video diaries and felt a strong pull to every piece of nature in Pandora. He would be lying if he said he didn't believe in Eywa everytime he saw you smile.

"We're mated for life," He said, completely in awe of you and he knew that what he felt was more than love.

"You are stuck with me," I smiled.

"And I would not choose anyone else, sweetheart," He kissed me, his lips molding into my own.

"What do we do now?" I asked, as the sun was on the rise and Spider was still inside.

"Take Spider with us, and go to your people. I want to make amends for what I did-"

"For what Colonel Quaritch did," I stopped him, "not what you did."

"They won't see it that way," He was doubtful. Go to her people and express how he feels like an absolute fucking asshole and how he knows the pain he caused can never be repaired. They might just kill him on the spot.

"We must go to my mother. She is Tsahik, and she will see what I see," I was sure of it.

"But let's get our son first."

"My child!" Mother cried out, enveloping me in a hug. I missed her so dearly, but this mut wait.

"You. . .you are mated," She realized, sensing the difference in me. She pulled away.

"Who is the man who has taken my daughters heart? Have you brought him here?" She questioned.

"I have, mother. But. . .you will recognize him. I trust you with all my being, and I know that you will see that he is a changed man," She was becoming nervous.

"Miles, approach my mother," She stepped back when I spoke English, her nerves wracked by who the man I have chosen might be.

When he emerged from the bushes with Spider, her eyes widened.

And she pulled out her knife.

"Mother!" She ran at him, hatred fueling her motives and luckily, Miles grabbed her hands and kept her from him.

"You demon! You foul monster!" She cried out, tears brimming her eyes.

"Mother, please, he is not the same man! I swear this to you on Eywa!" I pleaded, but she managed to take a swipe at his chest and draw blood.

She licked it.

"You. . .you are different. You are the man who carries this name, but you are not him," She said, still shaken up as her hand clenched around the handle of her dagger.

Miles could see my mothers conflict and got on his knees before her.

"I am Miles Quaritch, and I have the memories of a hateful man who burned your home to the ground. I wished I had never awoken. I wish I could face Colonel Quaritch and kill him myself because this place. . .it's not meant for taking. It's meant for living, for breathing, for loving," He looked at me.

"But I love your daughter. She has shown me the beauty of your home, but if you wish to kill me for my crimes, then I will not stop you," He hated himself. He hated who he was.

"You have mated with my daughter, but I sense no other motives than the love that a noble man has for a woman he respects and treasures," She put her hands on his shoulder, "but my people are wounded. They will want for blood."

"Mother, no," I pleaded.

"Please don't," Spider pleaded, "He's not the same."

"That does not erase the crimes he has committed," She stated.

"I understand," Miles had already accepted his fate.

"You will be responsible for my eldest daughters life. You will bear her every burden and shoulder her every cry. You will be a good mate, and you will take any ounce of pain from her. Miles Quaritch, you will be the best Na'vi man for her, and if you ever give her a reason to doubt you, then I will personally kill you for all to see," She swore to him. She watched her daughter laugh, cry, love, and lose in such a short lifetime.

She will not watch it happen again.

"Your sister is home."

From that moment, I knew that I would have to stick by my heart.

"Hey," Miles grabbed my hand before we could go see Jake, my sister and the children.

"What is it?" I asked.

"If Sully tries to take a swing at me, just let him. He deserves it," He scratched the back of his neck, still uncomfortable in the traditional garments of our people.

"Of course."

As soon as we were in viewing distance, I saw the smile on my sisters face. But as she got closer, and Jake saw him, all hell broke loose.

"Sister, get away from that man!" Neytiri hissed, keeping the children at bay.

"Neytiri, calm," Her face was of utter shock when mother told her to calm down.

"I know who this man is, and I know what he has done, but your sister and him are a mated pair. Eywa have him a second chance at life, and now he has chosen his path," Morher explained to them, and they still looked at him with murderous intent.

"He's lying to you. That's all he does," Jake insisted, "once he's done with you, he won't stay. He doesn't care about you (Y/N)."

"You are not welcome here!" Neytiri hissed at him, her tail flicking wildly.

"Neytiri, I have chosen him," my hand wrapped in his, "He has freed me, but not only that, he has shown me who he truly is. He is not the same man as before, but he has grown to love our home. Jake was once an outcast, and you were meant to bond with Tsu'tey."

Neytiri paused, remembering a time when Jake was just an outsider and not Taruk Makto. That her life would be drastically different if she bonded with Tsu'tey.

"That has not changed what he's done," Jake pointed out.

"It never will, and for that, I'm sorry," Miles spoke up, "I see the memories of who I once was and I do not recognize who that is. All I see is hatred, and all I see is death."

"He will not change, sister! Don't be blinded by his lies!" Neytiri pleaded, but Kiri felt indifferent to all this. Her own aunt, the woman who has sworn to protect her and her siblings since they were born, would not make a rash decision.

Meaning this love between them had to be real.

They met for a reason.

"I want no more hostility between anyone," Mother interrupted, tired of this rage filled tension.

"Get to sleep. We have much to discuss tomorrow."

"My Miles, what are you doing?" My sentence ended in laughter as his hands tickled my stomach and his lips planted kisses along my neck.

"I just wanted to see you smile. You seemed so unhappy after what happened," Miles never wanted to see you unhappy, and it was such a strange feeling to him. He only ever cared about his own feelings, about himself, but now it's like his world has shifted.

All he cared about was you.

"I just pray to Eywa that my sister does not stay mad at me forever," I confessed as his kisses trailed down my neck, giving me small marks as he gently bit me and I let out a soft whimper.

"I don't want to hear you mention anyone that makes you upset. I want to see you smile, or in pure ecstasy right now," And he would do anything to keep it that way. His hand trailed down my body, ghosting my skin as his lips came to mine.

Mother had given us our own space somewhat away from everyone, which secretly made Miles happy because then they could have all the alone time they wanted.

His fingers ghosted me, and I whined into his mouth for any friction. I could feel his smile, his fingers starting to slowly make their way inside of me.

It was slow and agonizing, and I knew he was doing so to get me riled up.

I mated with an absolute tease.

"Miles, please," I breathed out, his two fingers still going in and out of me at a slow pace.

"Please, what? You've got to use your voice, sweetheart," He chuckled, absolutely loving seeing you so hot and bothered. You were so needy for him and it made him so much more needy for you.

"Please touch me," I pleaded. I never felt like this with anyone before. It was like I needed him to breathe, and if anyone was to dare to take him from me, I would have to set the world on fire to bring him back to me.

My back lay against him as his fingers worked faster, my breathing getting quicker as his other hand teased my breasts. His fangs lightly trailed across my neck, sending shivers up my spine.

"Oh great mother," I moaned, my face flushed from the noises I made. It still felt so embarrassing, so say such things, but how else would I express how much I craved him?

"Say my name," He whispered as he gently bit into a sacred spot upon my neck. My head fell back as his thumb started to work my clit.

"Miles," I bit my lip, "I'm so close."

He was amazed at the sight before him. His mate, his (Y/N), completely falling apart at his hands. Her cute moans and mewls, her quiet begging for him to touch her - it was like he was on cloud nine.

"Come for me, my (Y/N)," He whispered in my ear, and to silence my cries, he turned my head towards him and kissed me. I felt so good, coming down from my high, but I wasn't done.

I turned around, my gaze full of lust, and shoved him on his back. I straddled him and said, "my turn."

#avatar the way of water #avatar the way of water imagine #avatar imagine #miles quaritch

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cal-flakes · 10 months

Text

╰┈➤ manipulated by rafe

warnings: smut, swearing, toxic relationship, violence, manipulation, oral (f. receiving)

summary: the remaining pogues tell you that rafe shot peterkin. when you confront rafe about it, he denies it and shuts you up the best you can. innocent!reader x rafe

y/n struggled a lot with the people around her, being friends with the pogues while rafe cameron was her boyfriend didn’t particularly sit well. and although the pogues didn’t treat her much differently, they certainly held back on telling her things, worried she might tell rafe.

it wasnt that she was a gossip, it was mostly down to her being a bit dumb, not really understanding what she can and can’t say unless explicitly told. while rafe knew this, and often reminded her to keep her mouth shut, this is an area the pogues lacked in.

“you’re lying! rafe wouldn’t do that!” y/n cried, not believing the lies coming from her friends. “we’re telling you y/n! it was rafe that shot peterkin, not john b!” kie pleaded with her friend, trying to undo the cameron’s corruption already imprinting in y/n’s mind.

shaking her head, tears streaming down her face, y/n starting walking away. “if rafe didn’t do it then who did y/n?” jj called after her, nostrils flared. “i don’t know what happened jj, but i know it wasn’t rafe!” y/n spat, desperately trying to clear those thoughts from her mind.

after a very long walk, y/n quietly made her way into the cameron household, looking for rafe. her tears had dried up by the time she got there, yet her eyes were still puffy and bloodshot.

sniffling, she poked her head into rafe’s bedroom, causing him to jump. as he scanned her face, his brows furrowed, noticing the tear marks trailing down her face.

“y/n, baby what’s wrong?” he questioned quietly, moving towards her in a hurry. rafe hastily brushed away her tears with his thumbs, holding her cheeks in his hands.

“is it true? did you kill peterkin?” y/n sobbed, unable to hold back anymore. rafe’s face contorted as is brows moved into a frown. “no of course not! who told you that?” his eyes wide in feigned confusion.

“n-nobody i-i just heard it” y/n tried to conceal the truth, not exactly wanting to drop her friends in it. a perplexed look shot across rafe’s features as his blood boiled away.

“don’t you lie to me y/n” he uttered. she shook her head. “nobody! i told you, i-i just heard it!” as the words left her lips, rafe moved away from her, rubbing his face in frustration.

it was almost like something snapped inside of him as he lunged towards her, wrapping a strong hand around her throat. “who told you that y/n” nostrils flared as he spat the venom-laced words towards her.

y/n’s chest heaved, struggling to catch her breath. she gave in, bowing her head as he unlatched from her. “kie and jj…they called you a murderer” she muttered, not wanting to meet his poisonous gaze.

rafe’s demeanour changed as he led her to the bed, situating himself between her legs. “you can’t listen to them baby, they don’t care about you” he murmured while his fingers caressed her thighs. “you can’t trust them sweet girl, only me..” rafe began leaving wet kisses along her collarbone, tilting her neck for more access.

rafe’s fingers danced up to her growing wetness. “you understand?” he whispered, rubbing gentle circles on her clit. y/n nodded, whimpering. “that’s a good girl..” soft moans escaped her lips at the praise, forever wanting to please him.

a loud gasp erupted from her throat as he guides two fingers through he wet folds, pumping them slowly. y/n’s hips bucked, almost begging for him to go faster. “p-please, please rafe..” his head perked up at this, a smirk dancing along his lips. “use your words angel, tell me what you want..” whining, she latched onto his shoulder, needing something to ground her.

“y-your mouth rafe, m-mouth” nodding, he lowered himself onto the floor, throwing her dangling legs over his shoulders.

“you gonna be good for me baby? you gonna listen to me about your little friends?” the devilish smirk staying still, knowing he’d gotten what he wanted.

“yes, yes of course! j-just please, i’m so close..”

#dom!rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafecameron #rafe cameron x fem!reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe smut #rafe x y/n #rafe obx #obx #outer banks

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1whore1gang · 6 months

Text

it's the little things 🤍

This is part 4!!

Read parts 1-3 HERE

Warnings: more angst, I'm so sorry BUT BUT BUT theres sickeningly sweet fluff at the end so bare with me ;), cussing, emotions, mentions of SA

I tried to make this one longer bc i feel like part 1 was so good and then 2 and 3 kinda flopped so heres me trying to write more than I usually do.

Also, I'm surprised no one has noticed a small writing detail I did last chapter regarding Price. I'll do it again in this chapter to see if anyone can catch on hehehehe :)

EDIT: not me saying I wanted to attempt to make this as long as part one when part one was 2,437 words and this one ended up 4,314 words....oops

Taglist: @gaymistakeboi @batw3nch @thedevillovesflowers @almightywdm @ghostslittlegf @sketchyfandomgirl @under-the-dirt @clear-your-mind-and-dream @darkangel4121 @vreselia @llemes @stargaliz @rockcollector3000 @nottrosaxx

(sorry if i forgot anyone!!! please yell at me if I did!!)

"Stop that!" Your voice was almost begging as Soap kept grabbing at Ghost's little hoodie strings. Soap kept fighting with Ghost all day and you couldn't handle it anymore. You finally picked up Soap and put him alone in the playpen. "You're in time out."

He began to wail, making you shed tears of your own. You were exhausted from the three little boys. They'd been causing trouble lately and keeping you up all night this week.

Gaz looked up at you with a little toy car shoved halfway in his mouth, blinking innocently as Ghost continues to play with his blocks as he was before Soap grabbed him. "At least you two are giving me a break today." Soap continued to wail dramatically, not even crying, just wanting your attention.

Laswell had told you that he needed to learn that he's not the only one you take care of, so you sometimes have to leave him to cry it out on his own to teach him. She'd stopped by the other day to brief you on a new group of recruits.

She was definitely questioning why you of all people had your Captain's so-called 'nephews' and you had to think on your feet, but she didn't buy it.

"Tell me the truth, who's kids are these Y/N?" Her voice was in that motherly tone she had mastered with all of you.

"You wouldn't believe me." You said, trying to quiet Soap's crying, which led to her advice about letting him cry it out.

"If you're going to tell me they're yours, yeah I won't." She shook her head, becoming increasingly more annoyed with you.

"Promise you won't report me for drugs?"

"Depends."

You had told her everything about finding the boys like this, and she had to take some time to think it over until she noticed how Soap only plays with Ghost, and how Gaz keeps to himself and didn't cry once while she was there. She took a day before she texted you again telling you she was there if you needed any help.

That was 3 days ago, and you didn't want to bother her since she had taken over some of your duties since your hands were quite full.

You leaned against the foot of your bed as you finally heard Soap's cries die down, turning around to see he had tuckered himself out into a sleep. You took a couple of deep breaths, trying to dry your tears when you felt little hands on your feet.

You opened your eyes to see Gaz and Simon grabbing at your toes. They both sit down at your attention. You went to go move to see what they needed when Gaz gave you a goofy smile.

Smiling back, you swopped him up to your chest to rock him, almost thanking him for bringing a smile to your face. You heard the familiar little grunt from Simon as you looked at him.

His hand was just outstretched towards you with one of his little blocks, offering it to you. Laughing a little, you took it and noticed the letter on the block was your initial.

Your eyes went wide as you looked back at Simon. "You know...or do you?" The question was more for yourself than him. You knew Simon couldn't understand you, he was a baby, there's no way he could.

"Is this me?" You cooed, pointing to the block he gave you. He grunted in response. "There's no way." Was he actually coherent? Was your Simon in there, he just couldn't express properly? Or had little Simon heard your name enough times that he knew? You felt something wet on your neck and saw Gaz drooling, thanking the universe that two of the boys so far have gone down for a nap.

Setting him in the playpen, you return to Simon, wanting to see if there was any way you could find out if he was cognitively adult Simon. "Do you know what's going on?" Your voice was gentle and quiet. Watching adamantly, you waited for him to give you any reaction. "Simon?"

His wide eyes looked up at you, focused shifted from his toys. "Do you know?" He blinked a couple of times, then looked around the room. He grunted a couple of times before looking down at his blocks.

"Simon?" You said again sweetly. You watched as Simon's lip began to quiver as he looked over his blocks, he began to cry, grabbing at the blocks and then throwing one before beginning to cry. "Oh honey, I'm sorry."

He reached out for you and you picked him up, comforting him. "It's okay honey, I'm sorry." You could tell something had bothered him, but what?

He wasn't wailing or screaming, just a silent whine of a cry. Almost like he was sad or frustrated. "Are you mad at something?" You moved to where you could see his face, cradling him.

You watched his breathing catch in his chest at your question. You ran two of your fingers over his little chest, rubbing circles to calm him. "Breathe Simon, don't hold your breath on me. You're okay, work through the cry sweetheart."

Your touch immediately helped him take in a good sized breath. "That's it." You watched him slowly calm himself down as you shushed him and held him. "Did your blocks make you mad?"

He crawled out of your arms clumsily, the most movement you've seen from him. He threw another block, not aggressively or at anything, but at the ground. "Yeah? Do you not like your blocks?" You reached for another toy for him to play with but he grunted.

You snapped your attention back to him, "What's wrong? I wish you could tell me." You felt helpless. He clearly was distraught over something, and you had no way of knowing what was happening.

He stared down at his blocks again, breathing in huffs. He held one out to you after picking it out. It was a 'Y' block. "What does this mean? Does this mean you understand?" He grunts.

You feel tears sting your eyes. "You know..." He grunts again. "Oh my God!!" You pick him up and stare at him. You bring him to your chest in a small hug, teary eyed. "I'm gonna get you boys back to normal, I promise."

Some hours passed and you had attempted to get a sign out of Gaz or Soap to no avail. It seems as if Simon was the only one who was cognitive of what was going on, but you still were unsure of the extent of his knowledge and awareness.

It's been a week since you had seen the Captain, and as much as you told yourself you wanted to keep it that way, deep down you wanted the softness he had when the boys were were first found. At night, you'd catch yourself dreaming about the way he looked that evening he popped into your office to ask if you were hungry, or the way he speak quietly to you in the mornings knowing you were up late with one of the boys.

Laswell hasn't mention anything about him either but you didn't know if that was a personal choice, or if she actually had no information regarding him.

You wanted to know where he was. Not only did you miss the warmth he held when you two were handling this situation, but you missed his help. He would always let you sleep in or let you take a rest. He cooked and stepped up so you weren't overexerting yourself.

You missed the companionship.

You glanced over to the clock to see it was nearly midnight, but when you scanned the time stamp on your phone, you saw a message from your email.

It was from General Shephard. It was sent hours ago.

Dear Lieutenant L/N,

I am writing this to you to pass it on that the Private you sent to me regarding sexual harassment has been found innocent. There was no camera footage found after review and he has no background violations or any previous infarctions.

Best Regards,

General Shephard

You felt your heart sink in your chest. There's cameras all over the training room, how could they not see it? The familiar sting landed in your throat as your emotions took over you.

Innocent? After what he did? How could Shephard not see that?!

You felt like you were going to scream, the pain unbearable.

It made you think back to Dubai. The severity of that event would've landed that man in jail. The way you had bruises on your neck and hips from the harsh grip of his hands for weeks, the way you limped for days. You remember the cold stare of your Captain when you told him, the nonchalant "Brush it off."

You were crushed.

You had lost.

The sun shone through the windows of your room as you woke up, looking over to see Gaz and Ghost already up. You picked them up to change them and then situated them in holsters, one on your chest, one on your back.

You did the same with Soap and then placed him on your hip, taking them to the kitchen to feed them.

Taking a moment while the bottles warmed, you took in the sight of all three boys in their highchairs, drowsy. Their little eyelashes fluttering as they struggled to stay awake, babbling and cooing.

It made you take a step back and really breathe in the moment, this may be the only time in your life that you're able to have this motherly role, even if they aren't your kids.

The microwave beeped and you shook the bottles, handing each one to the littles, watching as the half-hazardly drank the bottles. You felt a joy spark in your chest, enjoying this time with them despite the trouble they cause.

And here you thought they were troublesome as adults. Jokes on you.

You sat down at the breakfast bar as you waited, your mind drifting to distant memories.

"Y/N!!!" You could hear Soap's voice as you fell to your knees clutching your shoulder in pain. Removing your hand, you saw the blood seeping into the cotton material of your uniform. The sounds of warfare around you felt muffled as the pain radiated through your body from the gunshot wound.

You leaned on your hand to steady yourself, trying to breathe through the pain as the sound of skidding sounded in your ears. Looking up, you saw Soap sliding over to you, firing to cover you. "Get on my back! We gotta get ya outta here lass!" You moved slowly, trying to stay off your right arm. You winced as you climbed onto his back, squeezing your legs to keep yourself up as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

He had carried you out of the fire into a safe house not too far away as he immediately performed first aid to your shoulder. You remember the way he remained calm when his face was in your eyeline, but you could watch his muscles tense as he worried about your state.

The memory made you smile. Soap was always there for you, like he had eyes in the back of his head. Anytime you got hurt out in the field, he was worrying himself sick. He cared so much, and had such a big heart of gold.

"How dare you?!" You laughed, slamming down your Uno cards.

Gaz taunted you as he celebrated his win. You two were in a tent on a mission trying to boost both of your morales. Uno was your favorite game, but he was too good at it for your own good. No matter how strategic you were, he would always win.

Gaz was like that at every game, the rest of the team dreading game nights. Once in awhile though, you'd catch him letting you win because he enjoyed seeing you rub it in everyone's faces. It brought him joy to see you smile, so if he had to take a loss, he would.

You heard a whine as Soap finished his bottle. The other two boys were still working on theirs, so you went to go wash out the empty one.

"Ghost! How copy?" Your voice was panicked as you frantically looked around Las Almas. You were completely separated from Soap and Ghost. Soap had ended up around two miles from you, but Ghost wouldn't come through the radio. It had you so anxious you were going to be sick.

"Soap, do you have visual on Ghost?"

"No," his voice was strained from his shot wound. "There's a church about halfway between us, let's meet there and regroup."

For the next hour and some, you and Soap worked together to find a church, and when you did, Soap was already there. You rushed to him, relief washing over you until you heard a familiar hum.

Turning around, you say Ghost. "Don't fucking scare me like that ever again!" You punched his chest. "I thought you were dead!" You were angry with him, trying to land a hard hit on him.

He grabbed his arms and wrapped them around his waist as he silently brought you into an embrace. You cried into his chest as he brushed his hand over your head, the other drawing shapes into your back. "You're not gonna get rid of me that easy." He let out.

"You scared me so bad, I thought I lost you." You said through sobs.

"You'll never lose me."

Once the boys were finished with their bottles, you washed everything out and put the boys in some fresh clothes. You had decided you were going to take them out as you needed more supplies.

Maybe you'd stop by a park on the far end of town so they could get some fresh air too.

And everything had gone according to plan while you were out.

You even stopped to get ice cream, giving the boys a bite or two each of your own cup.

The day was full of fun and laughter, the sun was bright and the boys were well-behaved.

When you arrived back to base, you opened your door and set your bags down and put the boys in their playpen when you heard someone clear their throat.

"Y/N..." You turned around to greet the person in your room.

"Laswell, what's wrong?" You saw the solemn look ridden on her face.

"It's John, we need to talk about him."

You had brought her into the kitchen of the compound, brewing some coffee as you both sat down. "I don't really wish to talk about him right now." You said as you scoot your chair in.

"I know what happened, he told me everything. But, there's something you need to know. I know where he is, and I'm worried about him." She looked at you, silently asking you to hear her out. "I know he's not your favorite person but-"

"He disregarded my sexual assault in Dubai and prevented me from reporting it and when I called him out, he walked out on me. On top on everything else he's done, of course he's not my favorite person, he never has been." You were already fired up.

"I know what he did. I found him yesterday in his office, passed out drunk. He had your file pulled up on his computer. When I finally got him up and had him sober up, he spilled everything. He was crying. John doesn't cry Y/N." Laswell was trying to get to you through your emotions. You weren't falling for that.

"Why would I give a shit?"

"I've never seen you this fired up over him, there's something you're not telling me." That motherly tone is back. Your mind went to his kind smile, the gentle look in his eyes.

"He let me in." Your voice was quiet.

"Excuse me?!"

"When I brought the boys to him, hoping to find some help or answers, he wasn't the man I've come to know through my time of service. He wasn't Captain Price anymore, I saw John. He was kind and warm and gentle. He was sweet to me and helped with the boys, always letting me rest. I saw his smile, and the look in his eyes was unlike anything I've seen before. I've had a glimpse and now I'll never see it again." You felt hot tears sting your cheeks.

"I wouldn't say that." Laswell shook her head. "There is so much you don't know about him dear, you should go talk to him."

"I can't even look at him after he walked out."

"Give him a chance to explain himself." Laswell put her hand on yours. "Let him tell you for himself."

Your eyes widened at the gesture. "Tell me what?"

"What's got him so in his head. Please." She begged you to go see your Captain in his office. After some convincing and more tears, you finally gave in, just to get her off of you.

Your footsteps were loud in your ears as you approached his door, knocking lightly. There was no response. You slowly turned the doorknob, entering the room, closing the door behind you.

You froze at the sight before you. There were files all over his desk, most of them with your name on it. Your Captain was sitting with his head in his hands. "Captain?" Your voice was meek.

His head shot up, wide eyes staring into you. You could see the bags under his eyes, his eyes red from crying. He had a bottle of bourbon on his desk, only a droplet or two left in it. "Laswell said you had something to tell me." You said, not wanting to make anymore eye contact.

He remained silent, the room thick with it. You heard him stand from his chair, but you remained with your gaze on your shoes. "I-" He began. "I won you the case."

That's when your head snapped up. "What?"

"The Dubai case. With that guy. I, uh, I filed everything together and he's being put in jail."

You were confused. "You're 3 years too late."

"It's taken me three years." His words cut you deep. "I went straight to Shephard and Laswell when we got back from the mission. I filed a case against him in your name."

You stood dumbfounded. "That doesn't explain the way you reacted, nor the way you walked out on me." You were still hurt. You couldn't forgive him.

"Understandable." He sniffled as he began to fiddle with the files on his desk. "There's no excuse for the way I reacted, but you do deserve an explanation." He cleared his throat and looked up at you. When you didn't say anything, he continued. "When you came to me about it, at first I didn't think anything of it. I had a lot of female soldiers doing that to me that trip just so they could get sent home early or get a fat check. I caught them lying and they'd immediately back down. My mind told me you were doing the same thing." He takes in a shaky breath. "That was until I came to find you one morning and caught you changing. You were putting your shirt on when I saw your bruising. It looked like you had been beaten, I watched your walls come up that day and I watched you cower into a shell of yourself. That's when I know you were telling the truth."

"Why didn't you say anything?" You spoke up.

He sighed and took a second to collect himself, on the verge of tears. "I knew the statistics of women winning these types of cases, especially with the lack of proof. I snuck pictures of you to document your marks, and I asked every soldier I could to find a witness. No one came forward. The case would've never won, and I knew that. That's why I never said anything to you, I couldn't stand to watch you feel the pain of not getting the justice you deserved. Shephard and Laswell told me how poor the evidence was, and the three of us spent years trying to dig up anything we could." He paused, pulling out a piece of paper. "6 months ago, a witness came forward. That put the case over the edge and we won. I found out this morning."

You scanned the paper, the woman was a victim of the same man, same situation. Reading over it, you related to every word. This woman won you the case. "So what's your reasoning behind you being an asshole the entire time I've worked with you? Even as a Lieutenant yourself, you were always an asshole to me."

Price sighs, then walks around his desk to face you. "I was angry. All these years, I've been angry. Before my promotion, when I met you, you were just a Sergeant. I watched you in the field and around the male soldiers and I felt angry. I knew you'd be a problem and I knew I'd have to deal with it."

"Then why did you invite me to join the 141?" You were confused.

"The anger only multiplied when your case came to be, I was angry at the thought you'd lose and the son of a bitch who hurt you would still be loose to hurt others. I've been angry with you all these years because I knew one of these days, I'd run the risk of losing my rank." Price took a step towards you. "I was angry at the thought of losing you."

You continued to stare at him in confusion. "What're you on about?"

"I would never be able to have you the way I want, it'd be frowned upon." Your eyes widened.

"What do you mean?" You took a step backwards as his hand cupped your face.

"You haunt me. Your smile, your eyes. The way you laugh from your chest. My dreams are littered with images of you, reminding me of what I can't have."

"Why can't you 'have me'? I'm on your squad?" You were oblivious to his insinuations, confused as could be.

"Because I could never ask you to love a man you hate."

His words shook you to your core. "I love you Y/N, I have since I found you out in that shack in the mountains abandoned by your unit. I love the way you effortlessly care for others, the way your perfume lingers in a room. As soon as I thought I had suppressed by feelings, you show up at my door with three children. Yes, they're our coworkers, but I couldn't help but see the big picture. I see the way you interact with them, the way you molded into this figure that had nothing but admiration and love. It was so different from the woman I know in the field, the woman behind the rank."

He was staring into your eyes when it all hit you.

The way you played images of him shirtless that one night you opened the door, his kind smile, his gentle eyes. The way you dreamed of him in the kitchen cooking for you.

You loved him too.

You glanced down to his lips and without another word, John pulled you into a kiss. Your lips molded into his, his kiss warm and passionate. He kissed you like he'd never get to again.

The kiss slowed down time, and all you could think of was his hands holding you tightly against him like you'd disappear if he let go.

"John..." You said as you backed away. "I love you too, I've missed you." He kissed you again before sliding his hand down to hold yours.

"Let's go home."

The ride was silent back to the compound, even as you both approached your room. Laswell left with a nod and a wink to you.

You thanked your lucky stars you listened to her.

All three boys looked up at John from the playpen, wide eyed. Gaz began to cry as John swooped him up and comforted him. "They missed you too. It was tough doing this alone."

"I'm so sorry I walked out, I should've told you then and there, stayed around."

"You're here now." You smiled up at him as he leaned in to plant yet another kiss to your lips. You giggled as you heard Gaz giggle and Soap and Ghost let out little babbles and flailed their arms in excitement. John chuckled too.

"Do you think they saw this coming?" He asked.

"Probably." You moved to go change into your pajamas, John doing the same. Coming out of his bathroom, you saw him shirtless and wearing his signature flannel pants. You took in a deep breath.

"Like the view? Cause, I'm loving mine. C'mere." John sat on the edge of his bed as his hands ran over your thighs. "Do you feel comfortable sleeping here? Or do you still want the couch?"

You thought for a moment. "Can I have one more night on the couch?"

"Whatever makes you feel at home." John smiled as he crawled back into bed, wishing you a goodnight.

You smiled back as you climbed under the blankets on the couch. As much as you wanted to sleep next to him, it was intimidating for you. You needed to muster up the courage to be that close to him like that.

For now, you were just happy you found your feelings for him and you learned how his behavior all these years was because he was fighting for your honor.

You had John back, and that's all you could ask for.

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