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writingreadinglurkingandsmirking · 9 months

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Hold Me Down (Is This A New Start?) - Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: After a long, hard day of work you just want to go home and go to bed. But, when you get a persistent knock on your door from Rafe fucking Cameron. you know you’re gonna have a long night ahead. Letting him in, after two months of not seeing him, you fully anticipated a screaming match. But, you got something much different than you bargained for—much better too.

CW/TWs: brief angst, brief mentions of Rafe being on house arrest lol, feminine pronouns used, gorgeous/sweet girl/baby/darlin' as nicknames, toxic behavior, canon-adjacent Rafe, mean-ish Rafe, smut, piv sex, oral sex (male receiving), impact play, (not really) lowkey daddy kink, brat reader, dumbification, degradation kink, praise kink, overstimulation, breath play, unprotected sex (be safe I am nawt your mom gn), allusions to a pain kink for sure, mushy gushy sweet ending, not highly edited or reviewed

Words: 8.1k+

Note: 18+ MDNI, really just fucking don’t. I wrote this one in first person because writing in second person irritates my very soul. Uhhhh so this kinda came out of left field and I did nawt plan on writing this but here we are! But such is life! Anyways…back to regularly scheduled programming.

It had been a long day - too long. There was something exceedingly exhausting about living paycheck to paycheck that the average person didn’t understand. There was nothing quite as specific as the exhaustion that you encountered by overworking yourself day after day, week after week, month after month, all for nothing. Because that’s what this all amounted to. Nothing. Nothing extra at the end of the week to take home, nothing to do anything nice with. Just nothing. And nothing sucked the joy out of your day like knowing you’d have to get up the next day and do it all over again.

When I’d finally gotten home from a shift that didn’t end until almost the crack of fucking dawn - a good twelve hours after I was supposed to have gotten off shift - there was not a thing I wanted more than to sleep. Still, even as I sat on my fucking couch, my woes could not end. There was a loud, demanding knock on the door.

The first time I ignored it.

The second time I ignored it.

The third time, an annoyed voice accompanied the knock.

“Baby, open the fucking door,” came the snarl from the other side. I groaned and ran my hands down my face. I really didn’t want to deal with Rafe today. Not like that had ever deterred him before. “Baby, come on. Listen. Please. The cops are fucking trolling around outside. Baby, please open the door.”

I groaned and pulled myself to my feet, opening the apartment door. Standing there, looking at pitiful as ever was Rafe fucking Cameron. The bane of my existence. My more-or-less on-again-off-again boyfriend—though I’d sooner bash my head against the door than admit that. I glared at the ass who had done nothing but make my life harder since he’d entered it. Then, I stepped to the side and let him in. He stepped in and closed the door quickly, locking it behind him. He turned to me and pressed an absent-minded kiss to my forehead before going to sit down on the couch.

“You look like shit, darlin’,” he said. When he even had the decency to look up and notice I was there.

“Thanks,” I said dryly. I looked down at his leg. His ankle monitor looked fucked. “What the fuck did you do this time?”

“Just a little mod,” he said casually. “I needed to get out for a minute.”

“Why did you come here?” I demanded. “Did you stash more fucking coke in my house I swear to fucking God I will kill you. I am not catching a fucking charge for you, asshole.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why would I leave my coke with you knowing that you’d throw it out, baby? That’s just bad business. Besides, darlin’ the cops aren’t outside for me some loser is probably getting caught selling a few doors down again. And hey? It’s a crime to want to see you now, darlin’?” he asked, winking.

“No. But it is a crime to skip out on house arrest, Rafe,” I said blandly. “And I know damn well that you’re not here because you want to see me. I’m just convenient to you like fucking always.”

He rolled his eyes as if I were being the dramatic one. “What’s wrong now, gorgeous?” he drawled. “Always seems like there’s something these days, hmm?”

I clenched my jaw. “Fuck you, Rafe. Get the hell out,” I snapped.

Rafe frowned. Stood again and walked over to me. He placed his hands on my hips, refusing to leave. I, in turn, refused to look at him. “Look at me, darlin’,” he demanded. Reluctantly I did. “What’s wrong?” I didn’t answer. He brushed my hair back from my face and just kept looking at me. “Come on, sweet girl. Tell me…what’s wrong.” He smiled to himself when I still didn’t answer. “You know better than anyone I’m not going to leave until you tell me, baby…so come on…what’s wrong with my sweet girl?”

“Fuck you,” I repeated weakly, pulling out of his arms. I plopped down on my couch, curling into myself and closing my eyes. “Just fucking leave when you see the cops are gone. I can’t be bothered today.” The asshole had the audacity to laugh at my words. “Shut the fuck up, Rafe.”

Dramatically, Rafe sighed and knelt down on the ground in front of me. I felt him grab my knees and pull me to face him. I had no choice but to unfurl, otherwise, I would’ve fallen into him, which I had no interest in doing. So, I leaned back into the couch, trying to ignore the heat of his hand sinking into my cold legs through worn jeans. It was hard to ignore that. Hard to ignore any of him, really. And he knew that. That’s why he only waited through my stubborn silence for a few minutes.

“Come on, baby,” he hummed. “Tell me what’s wrong. I’m sorry I’m a dick, darlin’…you know I care.”

I laughed weakly, eyes still closed. “No. No, you don’t,” I said flatly.

He ignored my words and kept rubbing my legs. “It’s so fucking cold in here, baby,” he commented. “And your legs are freezing. Your heat not working?”

“No, it's working. It’s just too fucking expensive to heat this shitty goddamn apartment and I’m not forking over more money to the cunt landlord,” I said sharply, glaring at him. “Did you suddenly forget what life is like if—” I cut myself off, shaking my head.

He had the audacity to glare back if you could believe it. Then, he slapped my inner thigh. “I told you to call me if you needed help,” he hissed. He slapped my other thigh. “The fuck are you doing? What game are you playing at, baby?”

I pushed him away from me with my foot. “A game where I don’t need to rely on a man who is a fucking wannabe felon,” I snapped.

He rolled his eyes and got to his feet. “Newsflash, baby, you do need me,” he said, sounding way too smug about it.

“Fuck you, Rafe. I need a bullet to the brain more than I need you,” I sneered.

“That’s cute.” He continued on like I didn’t even speak in the first place. “I could give you that, if you want. But that doesn’t change anything about it, darlin’. You need my money, you need my cock, you need my love. You’ve said it yourself that no one gives it to you as good as I do. And I know you haven’t been looking which means you’re still as invested in this as I am. So.” He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. “When I tell you if you need my fucking money to heat your stupid apartment because your ass is too stubborn to move in with me…then you fucking call me.”

“You are not my fucking father,” I snapped, pulling out of his tough.. “Like I said. Bullet to the fucking brain before this shit anymore. I’m sick of it.”

“I don’t know. You do call me daddy a lot,” he mocked. He smiled down at me, but there was hardly any warmth to it. “But, oh? You’re so sick of it, hmm? You want to be brainless?” He laughed. “Well, I can make you brainless without having to put a hole in your pretty little head.” He wound his hand tightly in my hair, pulling my face towards his while I sharply inhaled. “And you’ll remember exactly why you’re not done with me, gorgeous.”

I glared at him. “I haven’t seen you in two months. The last time I did see you, you called me a stupid, worthless cunt and told me that you never wanted to see me again. And you think you can just show up here and get me to listen to you?” I demanded. I felt my face heating with my frustration. “Just like that? You think you’re…you think you’re worth me listening to?” I laughed. “Like I said. Fuck you, Rafe. I deserve…I deserve so much better than this. Than you.”

There was a mocking pout on his face. He reached out and grabbed my face again, squeezing my chin. “You think you’re going to find someone better than me?” he asked incredulously. He let out a laugh. “And where do you think you’ll find someone like that?” I didn’t answer. I refused to give him the satisfaction. He chuckled, but then his face went serious. “I’m sorry that I haven’t seen you in months, darlin’. I’m sorry that I said I never wanted to see you again. I was pissed, sweet girl. I didn’t mean it.”

“Oh you never mean it,” I said, the sarcasm’s impact dampened by the tearful sound of my voice.

He moved his hand from my chin to cup my face. I hated myself for it, but I did lean into the touch. “Come on, sweet girl…don’t be like that, baby,” he said. He leaned forward and dropped a kiss to the side of my neck. “You know that I love you.” Another kiss, followed by a short nip. “I’ve been busy, darlin’. That’s all. I’m sorry. I should’ve called, sweet girl. I know that. I’m not mad.”

“You were mad,” I accused, glaring at him.

“I was mad, baby,” he said, deceptively calm. “I was…frustrated that you wouldn’t let me take care of you. I just want what’s best for you. But I’m not mad anymore.”

“Well maybe I’m mad at you,” I retorted, harshness still lessened by the teary voice and the way I leaned into him.

“That’s okay,” he practically cooed. He pressed another kiss to my neck then moved so we were face to face, just a breath between us. He smirked, eyes drifting down to my lips and then back up. “You can be mad at me as long as you want, sweet girl. Just as long as you tell me that you love me.”

I sighed and closed my eyes. “No,” I said stubbornly.

“Come on, sweet girl, please,” Rafe purred, stroking my neck with his hand lazily. “I love you, darlin’.”

“I love you,” I said, voice breaking. My eyes popped open and I felt the tears in them.

Rafe’s smirk didn’t waver, but his eyes did soften. He let out a hum and wiped a tear that slipped. “There’s my sweet girl,” he cooed. He leaned forward and pressed a long, languid kiss to my lips. “Let me make it up to you, baby.” Another long kiss—lazier this time. “Let me apologize for calling you names, baby.” Another kiss. “Remind you that you’re my special, sweet girl.”

I huffed. “Oh so you wanna fuck me and suddenly I’m not a stupid, worthless cunt then?” I spat, voice dripping insecurity.

Rafe rolled his eyes so hard I was shocked that his eyes didn’t stick in the back of his head. “You’re not a stupid, worthless cunt. You’re my sweet girl and you know it,” he drawled. “I was a little fucking high when I said that. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”

I gave him a withering glare. “Oh and you’re not high now?” I asked even though I could already tell he wasn’t. He gave me a flat look and I deflated, leaning back, covering my face as I leaned against the arm of the couch. I sniffled. “Okay, I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. I didn’t mean it.”

He chuckled dryly and rubbed my leg gently. “It’d be fair if you did,” he drawled. He squeezed my leg. “And it’s fine that it’s not fair, sweet girl. I wasn’t fair. So.” He grabbed my legs and lowered them both to the floor. He gently pried my legs open leaning further into my space, hands dancing up both my thighs now. “How about I be real nice and make it up to you?”

“No,” I said stubbornly, glaring half-heartedly down at him. I felt his hand toy with the waist of my jeans, dancing just over the button. “I don’t want you to.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, unconvinced considering I’d begun to lean into his space more, opening my legs to give him more space to occupy, more space to get closer. “Oh?” he posed, tone almost mocking. “You don’t want to?”

“No,” I corrected, grabbing his hand, putting it back on my hair to silently prompt him to grab it just as he did before. “I don’t want you to be nice.” I glowered at him .”It’s been two months, Rafe. I need…”

He let out a low chuckle, eyes dark with quickly emerging lust. “Fuck, darlin’, tell me…what do you need?” he asked.

I blinked slowly, still looking right into his eyes, intoxicated by him already from such a short time together. “I need you to take care of me like you always do,” I said quietly.

Immediately, his hand wound tightly through my hair and he rose to his feet, forcing me to tilt my head up. I felt my breath hitch in my throat as I looked up at him, my eyes wide and wanting. I bit my lip, eyes trailing slowly down his body, to his belt at my eye level, and then back up. He chuckled again, grinning down at me. He wound his hand a bit tighter in my hair making me let out a squeak as he dragged me just a bit closer to his body.

“You need me to take care of you?” he posed, tone just shy of mocking. “Need me to help turn off that gorgeous fucking brain of yours, baby?” He used his free hand to trail down my cheek, fingers briefly touching my neck and stopping there. “Need me to fuck you stupid, sweet girl?”

Taking a shaky breath, I reached out, hand loosely holding his belt buckle. “Yes,” I said breathlessly.

I reveled in the sudden, sharp sting in my cheek. “Try again,” he warned, voice raspy.

“Yes…please fuck me stupid, daddy,” I said, batting my eyes up at him. “I don’t wanna think anymore.”

“Fuck,” Rafe muttered, his voice raspier still, thick with lust. He chuckled and loosened his hand in my hair before dropping it. He took his shirt off and then knotted a hand back in my hair. “Okay, baby. I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of my sweet girl.” He stroked my cheek gently with his free hand before moving it to his belt buckle and undoing it with ease. He then smirked down at me, inclining his head. “Well? Take me out, darlin’.” I glanced down at his open belt but he tutted, tilting my chin back up. “No, baby. Keep your eyes on me.” His request was one that was most easy for me to accommodate considering I felt like I’d die if I looked away from him.

My hands trembled as I reached forward, taking the belt off of him. I was ready to throw it to the side but Rafe held out a hand. Without even questioning it, I placed it in his hand. He then set it to the side and gestured with his head at me to continue. Which, I happily did. I heard him let out a quiet chuckle as I undid the button on his pants and brought down the zipper without breaking eye contact. I almost hastily pulled down the fabric until it sagged the rest of the way down. I raised my eyebrows at Rafe in a silent plea.

“What, baby?” he asked, amused, tightening his grip on my hair. I let out a weak whine and pouted. “What? You gotta tell me what you want, sweet girl. Use your words.”

“I wanna see your cock,” I responded, hooking my hand on the hem of the waistband of his boxers. I tilted my head to the side, jutting my bottom lip out further. “Please, daddy.”

He let out a dark chuckle. “Okay, baby,” he drawled. I hummed, pleased with myself, and looked down, prepared to take his boxers off. But, he tutted, turning my head up with his grip on my hair so I’d meet his eyes again. “Nuh, uh, darlin’. Keep those gorgeous eyes on me still. Don’t you dare even think about looking at my cock yet, baby. Just get it out.”

“But—” I began to complain before being silenced with another warning slap on the cheek making me whine and pull back slightly; not that Rafe let me get very far.

“No but, baby. You listen to me. Be a good girl,” Rafe warned, tone darkening. “You know I want what’s best for you, right, sweet girl?” I nodded through teary eyes, looking back up at him. He cursed under his breath at the sight, tightening and then loosening his hand in my hair once more. “Good girl, baby. Such a good fucking girl. Now, get my cock out. And don’t even look at it.”

I shivered at the order but complied. I reached and used two fingers to gently drag the fabric of the boxers down until they too gave way, falling down past his knees. Using every bit of restraint I had, I kept my eyes locked on his, refusing to look at his dick even as it hung directly in front of my face. Rafe hummed, his free hand moving from his side to wrap around himself, pumping lazily. I swallowed, biting my tongue as a reminder to keep my eyes up. A mocking laugh fell from Rafe’s mouth at the sight and I felt my stomach tighten.

“Oh there’s my good girl,” he cooed. “She can finally fucking listen, huh? So proud of you baby. Little slut that you are, I didn't think you’d be able to do it.” I let out a tiny whimper at his words, feeling a growing, heated pit of arousal low in my stomach. I shifted slightly, just barely able to keep my eyes from falling down. He chuckled again and pursed his lips. “How about you take your clothes off for me baby? Then I’ll let you look all you want at your favorite part of me.”

“All my clothes, daddy?” I checked. He nodded. I all but raced myself to do so. I whipped off the shirt I had on with ease and shimmied out of my jeans easily enough. Sitting there in my bra and panties, Rafe told me to stop and so I paused, looking up at him. “Yes, daddy?”

“Nothing, darlin’…just wanna look at you a minute,” he said, eyes dark with lust. “So fucking pretty, baby. God on fucking high, can’t imagine what I did to deserve such a blessing.”

“Stop,” I dismissed, blushing.

“Nah, baby. You’re a fucking twelve-course meal and I plan to have all of ‘em,” he dismissed, stepping closer and grabbing my chin. “And you aren’t gonna say some dumb shit like that again. We clear, baby?”

“Yes, daddy,” I murmured, feeling his thumb ghost up to trace my bottom lip. My breath hitched in my throat and he seemed to remember himself.

He pulled away and smirked down at me. “Bra and panties off. Let me see that pretty pussy, darlin’. Been missing it so much while I was gone,” he purred. I shivered at his words but peeled them off, shivering at the cold feeling of the air against my nipples and the cool fabric of the couch against my exposed core, quickly growing wet. “Fuck you’re so pretty. Look at you…all this…just for me.” He came closer again—even more this time—and his hand loosely went around my jaw, jerking my head up. “You are just for me, aren’t you baby?” I nodded immediately. He glared, his voice gruffer. “Words, darlin’. Or I might not be inclined to be too nice to you.”

“Yes, daddy,” I said breathlessly, wide-eyed. “All yours. Just for you.” I felt my heart beating rapidly in anticipation of seeing Rafe smile down at me. “Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?” he asked, hand still hooked around my jaw.

“Can I look please?” I asked sweetly, pouting up at him.

His lips quirked into a smirk and he narrowed his eyes looking at me, appraising. “I don’t know, baby. You think I should let you?” he asked.

“Please,” I said, pouting. “I just wan’ you. Want to see you. Wanna have you.”

“Awe with my sweet girl saying all that, well how could I say no?” he drawled, removing his hand from my neck to trail back and join the other in my hair. “Go ahead and look, darlin’. Take as long as you’d like.”

Ever so slowly, I broke my eye contact with Rafe, trailing my gaze down to his dick. Rafe’s confidence even as he stood bare as the day he was born was one of the things that had initially attracted me to him. But, looking at him now, lazily pumping his hand over his cock while he smirked down at me? I don’t think that I’d ever been quite so down bad for him. Which was…concerning, maybe? Pathetic, perhaps? But I didn’t care. At that moment, with his long, thick dick just hovering right in front of me, all I could think about was how badly I wanted him. Of how long I’d wanted him…of how long I’d waited.

“What? I don’t even gotta fuck you to turn that pretty brain off anymore?” he said, voice an alluring growl as he let out a dark sort of chuckle. “Got you so trained to take my dick you don’t even try to fight it, do you sweet girl?”

I shifted at his words, suddenly feeling my core flutter at his words, clenching regrettably—miserably—around nothing. His smirk increased tenfold at that and he stepped closer so that there was practically no space between us, not that there had been much before. Now, his cock stood proudly just next to my face. Again, ever so slowly I raised my eyes to meet his again. And the desperation must’ve been clear in my gaze if the smug, self-satisfied look in his were anything to go by.

“And this was supposed to be for you,” he hummed. “My dumb little baby won’t be able to think for herself and tell me what she wants when I get started, will she?” I let out a pathetic little whimper. “You just need something in that sweet little pussy and your perfect mouth, huh?” His eyes trailed down to my lips, briefly displaying the heated desire he was feeling before moving to meet mine again. “Tell me one thing, darlin’, okay? Think your cute lil’ brain can take that?”

“Yes, daddy,” I said, voice coming out breathy. I squirmed slightly, squeezing my thighs together to avoid doing something like grinding on the couch and making him stop this before it even started.

“I don’t have too much patience before I gotta get in that tight fucking cunt, gorgeous,” he drawled. “So…tell me. You want me to eat that pretty pussy? Or do you want to choke on my cock?” He grinned, sharp-edged and shark-like. “It’s up to you.” An aborted moan came out of me at his words. The answer for me, right now, at least, was obvious. I glanced down at his dick and then back up. “Nuh uh, darlin’. You tell me which one you want.”

“I want you to fuck my throat,” I whined, looking up at him wide-eyed.

Rafe chuckled, hands tightening in my hair. “I’ll give you a pass on not addressing me properly this once because you said something so sweet, darlin’. But don’t do it again,” he said, half-mocking, half-warning. I nodded eagerly. One hand released my hair. He pat my cheek and then held my jaw tightly between two fingers. “That’s my girl.” The possessiveness dripped off his tone. “Now be good for daddy and open that fucking mouth.”

My mouth fell open without much thought after that. He grinned as I left it open, tongue sticking out just the way he liked it. His thumb pressed down on my tongue, head tilting slightly to the side as he looked at me. I moaned at even that simple feeling, my body practically trembling with want for him. But, for a good few long moments, that’s all he did, slowly pressing his thumb more against my tongue. But, after a few moments, he drew it away, using his free hand to lazily pump his cock—still only half-hard—in his hand. I inhaled shakily, eyes looking at his heavy cock, knowing the weight and feel of it without even touching it.

“Mmm,” Rafe said, letting out a leisurely sigh as he jerked himself off in front of me. “You want my dick, sweet girl?” I nodded eagerly, tongue still shamelessly hanging out of my mouth. “You want me to make you choke on my fucking cock, baby?” Again, I nodded and he groaned. “You’re so fucking sexy, darlin’, fuck.” I watched with rapt attention as a bead of pre-cum leaked from the tip of his dick. I heard Rafe chuckle not a moment later. “Holy shit are you drooling, baby? Fuck, you really want this dick, huh? Well, I don’t wanna leave you wanting.”

Rafe used the hand in my hair to bring my head closer and anchor it in place. His other hand still held his dick that he was bringing towards my awaiting mouth. The second I felt the tip of his dick touch my tongue I groaned in appreciation at finally having something, feeling myself growing wetter and wanting. Already, with him not even having touched me yet, I was a mess. Rafe knew it damn well too. He chuckled, slapping his dick against my tongue making me inhale sharply then let out a tiny little whimper.

“Should I stop teasing you baby?” he said, voice measured, even, and entirely unaffected—as if he were in a business meeting and not getting ready to ruin my throat. “Should I make sure you lose your voice tomorrow now?” I nodded as best I could while ensuring that his dick did not fall from my tongue which just made him let out another low groan. “Alright, then, baby. You asked for it. Time for you to put that fucking mouth to work.”

I barely had the time to inhale before I felt Rafe’s heavy member settling against my tongue. I let out a breathy moan, reflexively hollowing out my cheeks and bobbing my head to take him further into my mouth. I moved my hands to touch him and he slapped them away.

“No fucking hands,” he grunted, pulling my hair so I’d look up at him before pushing me down to the hilt of him, nose settling against his pelvis. He cursed and I felt his dick pulse in my mouth as he looked down at me, eyes dark and wanting. “So fucking pretty when I’m stretching your fucking mouth open, baby. Look at you. So fucking good.” My core fluttered again at his words, clenching and unclenching while I felt myself starting to dampen the couch slightly the wetter I got. “Gonna fuck your throat now, darlin’.”

With the minimal warning issued, he thrust heavily, pulling out of my mouth almost entirely before thrusting entirely back in. I forced myself to breathe through my nose, relaxing before something unfortunate could happen like my gag reflex being triggered. I moaned around him, using my tongue as little as I could find myself able to when he started to consistently, aggressively thrust himself to the back of my throat. I whimpered at the feeling, grinding absent-mindedly against the rough fabric of the couch, letting my tongue trace along the vein on the underside of his dick.

Rafe caught sight of my desperate rutting against the couch and he let out a dark, slightly breathless chuckle without interrupting the pace of his thrusting. “God, look at my desperate fucking baby. What, is daddy not taking care of you fast enough? Fuck,” he grunted. “You wanna grind like a desperate, needy, brainless little toy? I should make you fucking get off of my thigh without me touching you?” My choked whine of displeasure at the threat made him let out another mean sort of laugh. “Don’t worry, darlin’. That’s gonna be for later.” I let out another whine at the promise then. “Yeah, baby. Gonna make you get yourself off on my leg and then I’m gonna eat your pussy so good. Gonna make you cum for me at least five times before I stop. I’ll fucking tie you up if I gotta, gorgeous. Gonna make my sweet girl so overstimulated she’s not gonna think ‘bout anything but my fucking cock��my fucking mouth…my fucking hands.” Each word was punctuated by a pointed thrust down my throat. “As if you think about anything else, my dumb little fuckin’ baby, yeah?”

When he pulled out of my mouth entirely, releasing my hair, I reflexively gasped in a breath of air, eyes wide and watering. I looked up at him. But, Rafe was still non-plussed by how fucked out I already was. He wasn’t even pausing, barely breaking even a bead of sweat across his gorgeous, obscenely perfect body. No, instead, he knelt down in front of me, one hand making its way immediately to my pussy and finding my clit like two ends of a magnet attracting to each other. He let out a low tutting sound, shaking his head at me as I bucked my hips against his hand before I could stop myself.

“So fucking sloppy, pretty girl. Is this all for me?” he asked, his voice both teasing and harsh. “Barely even done anything to you, baby. You’re just that much of a needy little fuckin’ slut for me, huh?” I let out a high-pitched keening noise and he hummed, wrapping his hand around my throat to make me focus on him even as he slipped two thick digits inside of me. “You want me, baby?” His voice was husky, rasping and his alluring eyes were locked intently on me.

“Yes, daddy,” I whined, voice weak around the whining and moans that I couldn’t help but release as he finger fucked me into oblivion. Even with so little direct stimulation, I felt my legs starting to tremble and my stomach starting to tighten, coiling and ready to barrel quickly towards release. Rafe could tell too based on the way my pussy was practically trying to swallow his fingers whole. “Please.”

“Please what, sweet girl?” he cooed, pretending like he didn’t already know damn well what I wanted.

“Fuck me,” I begged.

“Oh but you sound so pretty when you’re whining, gorgeous,” he groaned. “And I need you to be nice and fuckin’ ready for me. So I need you to cum for me before I fuck you.” My stomach tightened further just on the edge of sweet, sweet release that I’d been missing the past two months while he was missing on fucking house arrest. “Okay, baby?”

“Okay,” I sobbed, hips trying to buck even as he used his massive hand to direct my hips to keep the rhythm he wanted, the other tightening around the outside of my throat, making my eyes roll.

“Good girl,” he huffed. He paused his speech a moment, his fingers moving even faster, making me choke out a sobbing moan, head falling back until he squeezed my throat again in warning, making me lift my head. He then issued a command. A single word. “Cum.”

And who was I to disobey?

The coil in my stomach exploded into a mirage of light behind my eyes as they rolled back. I felt a slightly shrill shriek erupt from my mouth more than I actually heard myself. And all that I could think of beyond the veil and haze of pleasure was the feeling of Rafe’s hands, his skin so close to me. He supported my body as I slumped against him, both of his hands moving to rest low on my hips.

“Good job, gorgeous. You look so fucking pretty falling apart for me,” he encouraged, his voice an appreciative, warm grumble of affection. His hands ghosted up and down my sides. “You ready for me to fuck you, pretty little thing?”

“Yes, daddy,” I said, letting out a long, shaky sigh. I reached out, hands trailing up the planes of his solid chest, leaning my head on him to listen to his steady, calm heartbeat. “Thank you, daddy.”

“Of course, baby,” he said. I could hear the smugness in his voice but I didn’t care. He leaned me back on the couch and moved to get up. I let out a whine of dissatisfaction and grabbed his hand tightly, pulling him back towards me. He looked amused as he raised a brow. “I have to go get a condom, sweet girl.”

“No,” I said stubbornly.

“No?” he asked.

“Have you been fucking bitches on house arrest?” I asked, bottom lip jutting out.

He reached out, pulling my lip down and looking at it in undisguised intrigue. “No,” he admitted.

“Well, then you haven’t worn a condom with me before. So fuck’s sake, Rafe just fuck me,” I demanded.

Rafe’s eyes had a hardened sort of glee to them. His hand moved before I registered it and my head turned as his palm made contact with my cheek. Again, my core clenched around nothing. This time, I bit back the moan that threatened to escape.

“Who?” he warned, sounding all too happy to remind me of my place.

“Fuck me, daddy,” I reiterated, still with an extreme attitude. “Fuck me, don’t pull out cum in me, I don’t care. Just fuck me, daddy.”

“Drop the attitude,” Rafe said, a final warning.

“No,” I spat, knowing exactly where it would get me. You know, right where I wanted.

Instead of slapping me again as I’d first expected, Rafe tilted my head up with just his pointer finger under my chin, his shark-like smile back again. “Do you want to be punished, baby?” he asked, sounding all too eager. I offered no answer. He used his free hand and slapped me, harder this time. I couldn’t bite back the moan this time, or the way that my hand tried to drift between my legs. He caught my wrist easily to stop me. “Answer me or I’m gonna stop. I’ll walk out the fucking door, darlin’.” My bottom lip quivered at the thought, chest heaving. “Do you want a punishment, baby?”

“Y-yes, daddy,” I admitted after another stubborn moment.

“Well why didn’t you say so, darlin’,” he cooed sarcastically.

In a flurry of movement, Rafe sat on the couch and had me over his knee. My bare, soaked cunt made contact with his hard knee and I choked on a moan at that feeling. I barely had time to register the change in position before he landed his first hit on my ass. I yelped at the feeling, reflexively trying to squirm away from the pain, even as I felt a jolt of pleasure at the feeling. Rafe held my hips in place easily with one hand, keeping me firmly on his lap, and used the other to lay a hard slap against my ass, making me yelp again.

“That feel fucking good baby?” he grunted, slapping me again. I didn’t answer, a sharp, hissing inhale coming from my mouth. Another slap. Another whimper. “You should be fucking thanking me for this, darlin’. Disciplining your unruly fucking ass. Making you my good girl.”

“Thank you, daddy. Thank you, thank you. Please,” I whimpered, reflexively trying to squirm once more when his hand made contact with my ass yet again.

“Please, what, sweet girl? Remind you that you’re fucking mine? Oh, I am gonna, darlin’. This is just part of it,” he ground out. I could feel his rock-hard cock pressed against my side and I was torn between wanting it stuffed in my mouth and my pussy. Both thoughts escaped from my mind entirely as he landed another slap against my ass.

“More,” I ground out through clenched teeth, barely able to resist the urge to grind against his thigh and knee with the desperation that I was feeling.

“Needy little slut, you are, huh?” he asked, amused. His hands stopped their cyclical pattern of slapping my ass to rub the abused flesh for a moment. I felt his hand move between my legs more, teasing my entrance with his fingers. Naturally, I opened my legs for him. He chuckled at that. “Can’t wait to be stuffed with me, can you? Already brain dead to everything but me, aren’t you, sweet girl? You’re just my little plaything right now, aren’t you?” I buried my face in the couch and let out a groan, feeling his hand circling my clit again, lazily, not creating enough friction to do anything.

“Daddy, please,” I whined.

“Don’t worry, pretty little thing. I know just what you need to cum again. I decided I need two from you before I fuck this sweet little fucking pussy,” he grunted. With sudden and almost startling accuracy, Rafe slapped me again. This time, his hand made contact not with my ass but with my pussy, the sharp slap making me gasp and jerk from the pain. I let out a half-aborted scream and rocked back into his palm, panting from surprise. He openly laughed. “You didn’t think I forgot how much you liked that, did you, darlin’? Remember that real fucking well? So I’m gonna take care of this pussy just the way I know you need it.” I let out a breathy moan mixed with a cry as he spanked my clit once more. Again and again and again he did it until I felt like I was dripping sweat on my whole body and my pussy was soaked with my juices—the couch too for that matter. “Fuck me, baby, your pussy is so pretty all puffy like this. She’s just crying for me. You want me so bad your poor fucking brain can’t handle it, can it?” I let out a pathetic little whimper, unable to muster much more. “I tell you what, darlin’. You cum from me slapping this pussy and I’ll fuck you til you pass out if that’s what you want. You wanna do that for me?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” I gasped immediately, hardly even grasping the words just knowing that I wanted the pleasure that had been slowly building to finally reach its fucking crescendo.

“Good girl,” he said before unleashing a series of slaps to my pussy in a pattern that I couldn’t have anticipated if I were in his damn brain myself.

This time, as I tumbled over the edge of pleasure, I wailed, jerking against his hand. I collapsed against Rafe’s leg as the aftershock of the second orgasm washed over me. I gasped for air like I’d been drowning and I felt Rafe’s hand tracing up and down my back lazily. As I caught my breath, he placed a final sharp slap to my pussy making me let out a weak yelp of complaint. Without being too gentle, Rafe maneuvered me off of his lap and over the arm of the couch. He let out an appreciative groan and I lifted my head to look back at him. I was startled to see him lifting the belt. My eyes widened as I felt him wrap it around my wrists, quickly binding me.

“You’re not getting away from me, gorgeous. Not when I finally get to fuck my pussy again. You’re nice and ready for me,” he said, sounding almost absent-minded as he spoke to me. He grunted as he slid into me with a single thrust. When he bottomed out we both let out moans—his low and mine high and keening—and I felt my body shake. “Fuck. When you can feel your legs I’m gonna fuck you so hard in doggy you’re gonna not walk the day after. But right now I just gotta finish the job, baby. Gotta turn your fuckin’ brain off forever.”

With that, he started to purposefully piston his hips, holding my bound wrists behind my back for better leverage. I was nearly boneless, shrieking in pleasure as his hot, throbbing cock stretched me open and brushed against each and every nerve ending just right—at least that was how it felt. How he felt. His thrusts were deep and slow and pointed. I sobbed against the feeling, wanting to rut back into him to make him speed up. But, I couldn’t muster the strength. So I just let him fuck into me at his own pace and I felt myself starting to build towards another bout of pleasure—this bound to be even stronger than before if the stars already behind my eyes were anything to go by.

“Daddy, please,” I sobbed, not knowing if I wanted more or less stimulation, more or less pleasure, from him.

Regardless of what I wanted, Rafe didn’t say anything. He grunted out a noise of acknowledgment that I’d spoken then doubled down in his efforts to make me cum again. And when he wrapped his arm around my throat again, tightening quickly and entirely, it was over. This time, as he forced me to a third orgasm, I was actually sobbing, tears running down my face from the fucked up amount of pain and pleasure entwined in being so overstimulated in such a short period of time—especially after so long away from him.

“There’s my good fucking girl,” Rafe said, voice slightly hoarse as he slowed his thrusts to a stop.

He still hadn’t cum himself, his dick fully pulsing inside of me with how hard he was. I dreaded what that meant, even though I also fully anticipated what I knew would come. He gently undid the belt from around my wrists, releasing me, and then eased himself out of me. He flipped me around on the couch and I looked at him with big watery eyes.

“Please no more,” I said, tears slipping down my cheeks. “It’s too much, please.”

“Come on, darlin’,” he cooed, pressing kisses to my cheeks. “Come on, sweet girl. You can give me one more. Been missing my pussy so much. You know I need one more from her.” Another series of kisses, the last one a long and lingering, filthy one to my lips where his tongue entwined with mine and we both pulled back needing air. “Please, baby. One more for me.”

His hand moved down, gently tracing my clit, making me jolt. Already I was so sensitive, so overstimulated. But, the impossibly sweet and imploring look on his face? The hunger he had for me? It was impossible to deny.

“Okay, daddy,” I agreed, sniffling.

He leaned his forehead against mine, grinning. “That’s my girl,” he said softly.

He hitched my leg up over his hip, settling between my legs on the couch. He used his free hand to grip his cock, looking down at us. He gently slapped the head of his dick against my clit once, twice, a third time until I whined and he chuckled, reaching over to press a short kiss to my lips to shut me up. He ran himself up and down my slit over and over until I was shivering and he saw a tiny dribble of new arousal dripping from me. He let out a low moan of his own and then sank into me in one, hitching my leg up again so he could thrust as deep as humanly possible.

“There you are, gorgeous. There’s my beautiful fucking girl,” Rafe praised, pressing a kiss to each cheek, to my lips, and to my forehead as he steadily thrust into me. “So fucking perfect for me. So fucking good for me, baby.”

“You feel so good, daddy,” I said, eyes rolling back and then curling as he pressed down on the slight bulge in my stomach only present because of him. “Thank you, daddy.”

“Anything for you, baby. Fucking anything,” he grunted. He ground slower against me instead of thrusting for a few moments. “You don’t get to keep me from my pussy anymore, baby. I gotta fucking be with you.”

“Wanna be with you, daddy,” I babbled in agreement.

“Good fucking girl,” he huffed, pressing down on the bulge again making me whimper. I felt his dick pulsate again and I tightened around him habitually making his breath hitch. “You gonna cum for me one more time, baby? I’m so fucking close.”

“Yeah, daddy, I’m gonna cum,” I whined. “Please can I cum? Please, please, please?” I begged.

“Fu-fuck yeah,” Rafe stuttered. “Cum with me baby.”

And this time, as I fell across pleasure’s razor edge once more, Rafe fell with me. I felt as he came inside me, hot and deep. My eyes rolled at the feeling, almost addicted to the mere feeling of him being so close and intensely part of me at that moment. I held him without realizing it, nails digging into the skin of his back as I held him against me, ignoring the fact that I was trembling like a leaf.

“So proud of you, my sweet girl. So good for me, gorgeous. Love you so much. So good for me.” Those were the first things I was coherent of hearing again when the whooshing in my ears had faded. They were the sweet praise that Rafe was offering. He went to move—to pull out—but I held him to me still, almost wrapping myself around him like a koala to stop it.

“No,” I denied. “Don’t move yet.”

“Okay, baby,” he agreed. “I won’t pull out. Do you want me to hold you?” I nodded. He carefully moved us. I winced as he adjusted us so that I was sitting up and in his lap because it made him deeper for a moment still but as we settled that faded and I just melted into his chest. “I’m so proud of you, baby. You did so good.” He stroked my skin and hair for a moment. “I gotta get you cleaned up, sweet girl. Get you some water.”

“Not yet,” I denied again, eyes closed as I leaned against him, as much of my skin touching him as possible. “Take care of me in a minute.”

He chuckled. “Oh? You’re gonna let me take care of you?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I answered absent-mindedly. “Fine. You can take care of me, Rafe. I’ll stop being stubborn.” I needed his help. He’d been right about that when he showed up, I was adult enough to admit that. And I knew that he loved me. That he meant it from the best place.

“Really?” he asked, disbelieving. “You’re gonna move in with me? Let me take care of you? Just like that? All I had to do was fuck you like that?”

“Yeah. That’s all you had to do,” I agreed, far too exhausted to explain the complex detail of it in truth. I let out a breathless laugh though, a thought occurring to me when I felt a cool bite of metal and plastic on my leg. “Well, as long as you don’t get arrested for busting out of house arrest.” I cracked open my eyes to give him a smile.

“Shut up, I'll be fine,” he muttered. His hands held me closely, tightly, possessively to him. “You don’t get to take it back. I get to take care of you now. To make sure you’re safe. You’re gonna live with me, sweet girl.”

“Okay, Rafe,” I agreed softly, reaching up to stroke his cheek gently. He leaned into the touch and I smiled. “I will.” I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, laying my forehead against his.

“I love you, baby,” he murmured, so quiet I could barely hear it.

“I love you too,” I replied, just as quiet, just as simple.

He smiled at that, the sight making his eyes go warm and sweet. “Alright, then, gorgeous. Let’s get you cleaned up and get the fuck out of here,” he said. His smile morphed into a cheesy sort of grin—the kind I rarely got to see. “Let’s go home.”

For once, I couldn’t disagree. And I couldn’t help but echo the cheesy smile. “Okay, then, Romeo,” I teased. “Let’s go home.”

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choppersconfirmedkills · 1 year

Text

Just Flowers

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader (Ft. Best Friend Tess)

Word Count: 1.75k

Genre: Angst, with a bit of fluff

Warnings: Arguments, Joel being Joel, slight reference to an age gap, but it’s got fluff, not proofread

A/N: Happy Valentines Day! Here’s my first Joel Fic, I’m not all that content with it, the idea I had in my head didn’t really its way onto the page but I felt I should post it anyways.

Summary: It’s Valentines Day and you just wanted to do something nice for Joel.

It’s raining… in February. You could swear that ever since the outbreak occurred mother nature decided to switch everything up, weather included. But the rain didn’t bother you all that much especially when you had what you were looking for and you were finally home.

Or at least whatever this hobble was that you and Joel shared could be considered. The wallpaper was ugly and tattered, springs were sticking out of the couch, and you were pretty sure it was rat-infested, but it was what you had.

You tried to be as quiet as possible when entering the confines of the apartment knowing Tess would probably be over and sleeping and Joel trying to get some semblance of it. You didn’t wish to do that to them today because the truth is the two of them deserved just a little bit of peace. And luckily for you, they might have found it because the coast was clear.

Taking off your soaked outerwear, you took a sigh of relief. Everything had gone according to your hopes, which meant that tomorrow was going to go swimmingly. You wanted to surprise them with a few things. You had grown to care for both of these people, it was supposed to be just strictly business but eventually, they became the closest thing you had to family. With Joel, it was a bit different though. You knew he was closed off and pushed everyone in existence away, but you couldn’t help but fall for the old grump. And you thought he deserved to feel a little bit of that care you had for him.

Click.

“Shit,” you turned around to see that the lamp was turned on and Joel and Tess were on the couch, staring at you. As if your parents caught you sneaking in after curfew. Which you technically did.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Tess was the first to speak, adjusting in her seat slightly.

“Uhhhh, dark?”

“You’re damn skippy it is, where the hell were you at this time of night?” She stood up.

“Oh, nowhere and everywhere,” you responded, knowing you were being difficult, but there was no way you were spilling this secret right now. It wasn’t even Valentine's Day yet.

“That’s not a good enough answer,” Tess replied moving to grab your face and scanning you for injuries and bite marks. Tess would never admit it but she had a soft spot for you, you were like her younger annoying sibling that she could never get rid of. She was taking mental notes of your figure when she caught sight of your bandaged hand. You winced, preparing for the barrage that was about to come your way. “Where were you?” she asked again.

“Outside,” you huffed. It was a vague answer but they both knew what it meant.

“WHAT?” Joel was screaming, enough to make you physically flinch. “You went outside the walls? Alone? What the hell were you thinking?”

“Joel, would you chill out? You’re scaring her” Tess glared at him. “Sweetie, come with me. Let’s talk where grumpy can’t bother us.” Taking your hand Tess brought you out into the hallway.

“No, but seriously, what the hell were you thinking?” She smacked the back of your head, eliciting an obnoxious yelp from you. “Outside the walls?”

“Tess, I can handle myself just fine. Plus I didn’t go far,” you countered.

“It’s not you that I’m worried about. Joel about damn near had a heart attack. I’ve never seen him like that. And your hand? He’s going to lose it!”

“It’s not a bite,” you answered looking down at the bandage.

“I know it’s not, you wouldn’t have come in the apartment if it was. You scared us both, Y/N. Just don’t do it again.” Tess sighed.

“I’m sorry. I won’t. But I do hope this makes up for it a little bit?” You smiled reaching into your pocket and pulling out-

“Chocolate?” She gasped pulling the bar out of your hand.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you smiled at her.

“How’d you even get your hands on it?”

“A lot of shifts shoveling shit, and putting up with one handsy smuggler,” you laughed, earning a scowl from her. “It’s dark chocolate so I hope it hasn’t gone bad, but I know it was your favorite from before all of this.”

“Alright, you’re forgiven, and thank you.” She pulled you into a hug which was not something she did very often. “Now go back in there and talk to Joel. Hopefully, you’ve got some incredible sweet talk up your sleeves for this because he is pissed.” She smiled at you and walked off towards her place, leaving you to deal with the fallout of a very angry Joel.

You took one last deep breath before opening the door to your inevitable doom.

“Are you stupid, dumb, or both?” So that’s how he was going to start this.

“Joel, I can take care of myself just fine. I did it long before you or Tess came along,” you sighed moving to look at him. When your eyes finally focused in the dark you realized, he was wet. His clothes and his hair. “Joel, did you go out there and look for me?”

“Of course I did! What else did you expect me to do? Sit here in our place and wait for you to possibly come back home?” He yelled. “What in the hell possessed you to do something so damn reckless?”

“I didn’t go far. Not even a mile outside the walls! I was out there maybe an hour tops,” you yelled back.

“An hour is plenty enough time for you to end up dead or worse.” Bit. “Knowing you that ain’t too far off an option!”

“Are you saying that I’m stupid enough to not watch my own fucking back? I know how to survive out there! You’re not the only person in the world who can do it!” You couldn’t understand why he was so angry at you. He had no reason to be, no ulterior motive. He didn’t have to take care of you. You just worked together and were roommates essentially. And like he told you all those years ago, he won’t get attached.

“Yes, I am. Considering you went outside the QZ, at night, past curfew, in the rain, and alone! If that ain’t stupid I don’t know what is.” He huffed.

“And would you look at that, I came out unharmed!”

“Then what the hell is this?” He grabbed your bandaged hand and held it up like it was the final clue in a murder mystery movie.

“It’s fine,” you started unwrapping it, “the bleeding stopped a while ago so I should probably take this thing off.” There it was, just a bunch of superficial cuts littered across your palm. Some as faint as a paper cut others deep enough to leave a faint scar.

“How did you possibly do that?” Joel sighed inspecting your injury. He had calmed down considerably seeing how unharmed you really were.

“What time is it?” You asked gently pulling your arm back to you.

“2 am. Don’t avoid the question,” he nearly growled. You just ignored it, walking towards the backpack you had long since discarded on the table. Reaching in you pulled out what you had caused this argument over.

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands,” you said facing away from him.

“Are you fucking shitting me right now? Answer my damn question, Y/N,” he grumbled, starting to get himself angry again.

“Just do it Joel, Jesus Christ.” You took his disgruntled sigh as a sign that he gave in to your ridiculous request. Being as subtle as possible you put the gift in his hands, delighting in the confused look that graced his features. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

You smiled a little watching him inspect what you gave him, but then you watched as he frowned and your heart broke a little. “Flowers? You did all that just for some fucking flowers?”

“Well, I’m sorry you don’t like them,” you scowled.

“It’s ridiculous! All that danger for a couple of fucking wildflowers. It’s not important!”

“It is to me, Joel!” You snapped.

“They’re just flowers, for fuck sake.”

“I know I was young when this all started, but every year on Valentine’s Day, my mother and I would go out into the yard and pick flowers to bring to my father as his gift,” you paused gathering your breath in hopes to prevent your voice from breaking, and you wore you could’ve heard him mutter ‘shit’ under his breath. “My mom used to tell me that giving someone flowers was a way to show you care and that Valentine’s Day was the perfect day to do so. So I wanted to do it for you. I don’t expect anything out of you, I never have, and I know you don’t let anyone in. I just wanted to show you my appreciation for you. Give you something beautiful in this shithole of a world.”

Joel was frozen gazing over the flowers, stuck in whatever thought process he was in. It was agony for you, floating in limbo while Joel fought a war with his thoughts. You don’t know how long it was until you heard him release the breath you didn’t even notice he was holding in. “God, don’t you ever do that again, you understand me?” He relented, pulling you into a hug, a hand placed on the back of your neck and the other on your lower back. “I thought you were gone.”

“I don’t ever plan on leaving you, Joel,” you nuzzled into his chest, content to just live within his warmth like this.

“Now, seriously, how did you hurt your hand?” he sighed.

“Oh, I guess I forgot that a lot of these things have thorns in them. It was worth it though,” You smiled looking up at him.

“That’s because you got me weeds,” the lightest chuckle escaped him, which made your heart burst at the seams.

“You asshole,” you lightly shoved him through your giggles, breaking away from the hug. “They are beautiful flowers!”

“You risked your life to get me weeds because that’s what these are.” You just huffed at his commentary and tried to stomp away from him. That didn’t fly with him because he pulled you back into his embrace, holding you even tighter this time. “But thank you,” he whispered into the crown of your head, leaving a ghost of a kiss there.

#tlou #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal x reader #tlou imagine #the last of us imagine #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal angst #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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asbealthgn · 1 year

Text

originally posted this goofy lil steddie fic on ao3 but uhhhh you can have it

Max does not have a crush on Steve.

She knows this because she knows exactly how crushes feel. For the past couple years she’s been in a cycle of crushing on Lucas, dating Lucas, pissed at Lucas, breaking up with Lucas, realizing that Lucas is actually pretty adorable, rinse, repeat. She also had a brief period of crushing on El that she absolutely does not talk about because they are way better off as friends.

So Max knows how crushes feel and she doesn’t have one on Steve. She does, however, have a healthy appreciation for how hot he is.

On the one hand, gross, he’s like four years older than her. But on the other hand, Michael J. Fox is like six years older than him, and he’s hot too. On the other other hand, gross, Steve is like a brother to her. But on the other other other hand, she doesn’t have a crush on him so it’s not weird.

Max is running out of hands and the whole point is that she’s not going to stop herself from finding Steve hot, and she’s not going to stop herself from looking at him every once in a while.

That’s how she makes her discovery on an afternoon that can’t seem to decide if it still wants to hang on to summer or if it’s ready to slip off into fall. She’s out on Ventura, which she kind of hates because it reminds her of Those Days, but it’s a good street for skateboarding. She’s on her own, having turned down Lucas’ offer to get shakes, and El’s offer to watch a movie, and Dustin’s offer to study for their math test tomorrow (like she was ever going to say yes to that).

She’s sort of halfway on a mission today. Jonathan gifted her a camera on her last birthday, a Polaroid, and has been showing her the ropes of photography. She’s determined to get better at it. Most of her pictures so far have come out blurry or too dark or too overexposed or just completely boring to look at. She has the camera slung around her neck now, and she’s scanning the side of the road for anything interesting to photograph.

Max has just stepped off her board to inspect a rusted out watering can in the grass that might make a cool photo when she hears a car door slam up the street. She’s partially concealed on the other side of a scraggly bush and watches from behind it as Steve swings his keys around his pointer finger before pocketing them as he approaches the woods. He glances around once he hits the trees and Max ducks down to avoid being seen. By the time she pokes her head back up, Steve has disappeared.

That’s suspicious. Why would Steve be all the way out here? What’s he trying to hide?

Like Max isn’t gonna follow. She stashes her board in the bush and takes off after him, trying to pick up the trail from the place Steve disappeared from. Once she’s in the trees, she can hear his movement, well up ahead of her. Honestly, for a guy trying to be sneaky, he’s making a shit ton of noise. All she has to do is hang back far enough that there’s no chance to be seen and she can keep up after the sound of branches breaking and leaves rustling and birds taking off.

Max pauses when the noise stops. It’s replaced by the sound of voices, too far away for Max to tell what they’re saying. Then that stops too and she creeps forward out of curiosity, going until she finally does see Steve.

He’s kissing someone.

Max isn’t sure who, exactly, because they’re pretty obstructed. Apparently, there’s a tree fort back here that she never knew about. It’s not high up, maybe only five feet off the ground, and the walls aren’t exactly watertight. Through the window and the gaps in the wall, she can see Steve pretty clearly and someone, some girl with curly dark hair. Max can’t see her well enough to make out anything else about her other than that. But it’s not like Max is not going to try to figure it out.

For that she’ll need evidence.

She lifts her camera, lines up the shot in the little window, and snaps a picture. But shit, flashes are a thing that exist. Bright light bounces off the trees and Steve lifts his head. Max drops, concealing herself in the undergrowth.

“What was that?” she hears Steve ask, and she doesn’t stick around long enough for them to start investigating. She slithers off as quickly and as quietly as she can, making it back out to her skateboard in record time. She skates away, making sure to get two streets over before checking the photo that has now developed.

Steve and the mystery girl, dark hair spilling out. Yep, Max is definitely going to use this.

“Steve has a girlfriend,” Max announces in first period the next day, swinging into her seat right as the first bell rings.

“So?” Mike asks at the same time that Dustin says, “He can’t!”

“What do you mean, so?” Max asks at the same time Lucas says, “Why can’t he?”

“I mean, why am I supposed to care?” Mike says at the same time Dustin says, “Because he tells me everything.”

“Hey, that’s our friend,” Will says at the same time Lucas says, “He doesn’t tell you everything.”

“Okay, can we please stop having two conversations at the same time?” Max asks as Mike and Dustin both open their mouths. Mike snaps his shut, but Dustin barrels on.

“Steve does tell me everything,” he says, “If he had a girlfriend, I’d know about it.”

“What makes you so sure, anyway?” Mike asks Max. She crosses her arm.

“I saw them,” she says, “In the woods off Ventura. I have evidence.” She rifles through her backpack and produces the Polaroid of Steve and the mystery girl.

“What were you even doing in the woods?” Lucas asks as everyone leans in to inspect the photo.

Max frowns. “What are you, a cop? Mind your own business.”

Lucas lifts his hands. “Geez, okay.”

Mike settles back in his seat, waving dismissively. “That doesn’t mean anything,” he says, “Steve makes out with girls, like, all the time.”

“Yeah, like Nancy,” Dustin sings, drawing out her name into a taunt.

“Ew, gross!”

“He kind of has a point,” Will says, “Steve kissing a girl in the woods doesn’t really mean anything.”

Max rolls her eyes. “Okay, then you guys aren’t paying attention,” she says, “At movie night last month, did he or did he not say that he was done with casual hookups and he wasn’t kissing anyone until it was ‘the one’ or whatever?”

Dustin nods. “He did say that. He said it to me again last week, because I hang out with him and he tells me everything.”

Lucas rolls his eyes as the warning bell rings. “Alright, if you know everything,” he says, snatching the Polaroid off Max’s desk and smacking it onto Dustin’s. “Who’s he kissing?”

“How should I know?”

“Oh, really? Guess you don’t know Steve as well as you thought.”

“Shut up!” Dustin says, “Yeah, I do! Just cause I don’t know—”

“Let me see,” Mike says, taking the picture. He studies it. “She looks kind of familiar, right? I’ve definitely seen that hair somewhere.”

“Well, she’s someone from Hawkins, so probably,” Max says.

Mike passes the photo to El. “What do you think? Do you know her?”

El takes the picture and looks at it, then shrugs. “I do not think so.”

That gives Max an idea. “Hey, El, do you think you could find her? Like when you found Heather from her picture?”

El looks back at the photo. “I am not sure. It is hard to see her.” She gives Max a tiny smile as the bell rings. “But I will try.”

That afternoon, after school, Max and the rest crowd onto El’s bed at the cabin while El sits cross-legged on the floor, blindfold over her eyes. The photo is on the ground in front of her with the radio tuned to static. Max watches in anticipation as a drop of blood slowly trickles from El’s nostril. After a few minutes, she pulls the blindfold off.

“It is no good,” she says, “I am only finding Steve.”

“Really?” Dustin asks. “Are you sure? Was anyone else with him?”

“I think he is at work,” El says, “He was with Robin and Eddie, but no girl.”

“Robin’s a girl,” Mike says.

“But not the girl,” Max says, “The hair’s all wrong.”

“Maybe she was in a wig,” Dustin says.

“Why would she be in a wig?” Lucas asks. Dustin shrugs and makes an I don’t know sound.

“It’s not Robin in a wig,” Will says, leaning off the bed and picking up the photo. “It’s someone else.”

They pass it around again, everyone staring hard at the girl like maybe they’ll find some other clue. All they can really make out is that she’s in a black shirt, but that could still be anyone. Eventually, they give up, and the boys get bored and go back to Lucas’ to play Nintendo, and Max sticks around to watch movies with El.

El convinces Hopper to let Max stay the night, since it’s Friday, and they try finding the girl one more time. El gives up after only a minute this time, shaking her head.

“It is not working,” she says, “This time, I only saw Eddie.”

“Eddie?” Max asks, “Why would you see him?”

El shrugs. “I do not know,” she says, “It seemed like he is at a concert.”

Max picks up the picture and frowns at it. “Maybe the girl’s there too, but you just can’t see her for some reason? Like, ‘cause the picture isn’t clear? And maybe you’re seeing Eddie clearly ‘cause you know him?”

“Maybe,” El says, looking skeptical.

Max doesn’t blame her. She knows she’s grasping at straws here. But this is so damn confusing. She’s never had reason to doubt El’s abilities before, so why would they be failing? They give it a rest for the night and go to bed, but Max isn’t letting this go.

She’s going to figure out who this girl is.

Max takes the strategic route and goes straight to the source.

Well, sort of to the left of the source. As close to the source as she can get without actually going to the source. Basically, she asks Robin.

It’s another movie night at Steve’s, and Max waits until Steve has disappeared into the kitchen to pop another bowl of popcorn before getting up and wedging her way in between Robin and Eddie on the couch.

“Do you know who Steve’s girlfriend is?” she asks. The others all whirl around, knowing exactly what she’s getting at. Robin’s eyes widen.

“What?” she asks, “What do you mean?”

Max narrows her eyes. “I know you know,” she says, “Steve tells you everything.”

“Hey, he tells me everything,” Dustin chimes in.

“Not helping,” Max says, pulling the polaroid out of her pocket and showing it to Robin. Eddie leans in so he can see too, then jerks back, laughing. “What’s so funny?” Max asks him.

“How’d you get that picture, Red?” he asks, not exactly answering the question.

“I took it,” Max says, “I saw them, and I wanted to know who she is.” She turns back to Robin, who is still looking at the photo. “Well? Do you know her?”

Robin shakes her head quickly. “Nope! Sorry, never seen her before in my life.”

She is so clearly lying. Max is about to call her on it, but then Steve is coming back into the room, so Max shoves the picture back in her pocket and hops off the couch to give him his spot back.

“Stevie, how come you never told me you have a girlfriend?” Eddie asks, still sort of laughing as Steve settles in next to him.

Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t believe this!” Dustin shouts, “How could you not tell me!”

“Not tell you what, man?” Steve asks.

“Show him the picture,” Dustin says, tugging Max’s sleeve.

“I’m not showing him the picture,” Max says.

“Ah, go on, Red, show him,” Eddie says, looking like he’s barely holding back another laughing fit.

Maybe a little apprehensively, ‘cause she’s kind of showing her ass here, Max pulls the Polaroid out and passes it to Steve. He looks at it for a long moment, everyone except Eddie and Robin on the edge of their seat waiting to hear what he has to say.

“Huh.”

“That’s it?” Mike says, “Huh?”

Steve shrugs.

“So?” Lucas asks, “Who is she?”

Steve grins. “Ah, you wouldn’t know her,” he says, “She goes to a different school.”

That makes Eddie howl in laughter while everyone else speaks over each other, trying to figure out what that means. Something like the beginnings of an idea is occurring to Max, but she’s not sure exactly what yet. She turns over the pieces in her head as they finish the movie, analyzing Steve’s answer, gauging Robin and Eddie’s reactions, and it feels like something is starting to come together that has yet to fully reveal itself.

After the movie’s over, Eddie gives her a ride home since they’re right across the street from each other.

“I gotta say, Red,” Eddie says as he rolls past the sign for Forest Hills, “It’s a little voyeuristic to be snapping pictures of people in the woods.”

Max rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t trying to be creepy,” she says, “I was just curious.”

“Hey, I’m all about encouraging curious minds,” he says as they pull up in front of Max’s trailer. He grins at her. “Just be careful what you find out.”

That’s cryptic as shit, but Max just brushes it off as she pushes open the passenger door and gets out. She’s climbing the steps to her front door when the rest of the pieces clunk into place—something about familiar curly brown hair, and El only finding Eddie, and Eddie’s tears of laughter at everyone trying to put it together.

Max whirls around and looks at Eddie hopping up the steps to his own trailer, curly hair bouncing on his shoulders. “Eddie,” she yells. He stops and looks at her. “You motherfucker!”

He cackles and throws open his front door. “Knew you’d get there eventually!”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #max mayfield #stranger things #this is what happens when you learn photography from jonathan

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devsgames · 8 months

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Venting About Unity's Pricing Plan Nonsense

Venting here, but this morning Unity announced changes to their pricing plan including charging a "Unity Runtime Fee" to a developer any time a user installs the product on their PC above a certain threshold ($200k revenue and 200k downloads on personal plan, less for paid plans). Oh it's also retroactive to all existing products made with the engine.

They're trying to justify it by claiming "the Unity Runtime costs money to maintain" - which is unhinged because I'm no software expert but I'm fairly certain Unity Runtime has existed for about as long as Unity has been capable of making builds. So uhhhh.......it's a thing that has existed for like a decade now, at least. This isn't some expensive new thing, and it almost certainly hasn't gotten that much more expensive that it's suddenly costing them millions more to maintain.

If this seems like a raw deal for the developer don't worry - if they pull up their work and simply transition to using Unity's in-house ad service instead of external ones they won't be forced to pay as much. :) And what's more is if you buy the really expensive Unity plans you won't have to pay as much in Runtime fees! I'd sort of compare this deal to forcing a developer to move into their ecosystem at gunpoint.

I'm sure this is also related to them recently merging with ironSource - a mobile ad distribution software company - for a staggering 4.4 BILLION dollars. It's another string of stupid moves and gross exploitation by the company that in the last year has laid off 600 of its workers (8% of its global staff).

With their trajectory over the last few years, at this point I've generally just got zero faith in the suits to not plummet this software into the dirt..

#HI please check my reblogs for more info #sorry im super annoyed #wanted to get it off my chest #gamedev #game development #game dev #indie games #indie game #gamedevelopment #indiegames #thoughts #unity #made with unity

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actual-changeling · 5 months

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It was actually rather hard to decide how to begin this meta post because there are essentially going to be two main parts: why Crowley does not actually avoid/run from his problems and why "going off" is not a bad thing regardless.

Then I wrote the first part and realised this is now 2.5k words long, so uhhhh I will grant part 2 its own post.

With that, welcome back to Alex's today-not-unhinged meta corner!

I am going to approach this topic from a psychological angle, which a lot of people have already done, but without explicitly mentioning it or going into depth. All my information comes from personal experience, research, my therapist, and my psychiatrist, just so you know I am not making shit up. I actually dug up some resources my therapist gave me a while ago.

Generally, there are four different fear/survival responses: fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. Most people have probably heard about fight and flight, since those two are usually the only ones that are mentioned/taught, so I will stick to explaining the other two.

"Fawning" refers to actively being submissive and subdued, both physically and emotionally. The goal is to appear non-threatening and to calm whoever is causing the fear response in the first place. It shows up as being overly agreeable, not having thoughts/opinions of your own and ignoring them if you do, your body language changing (e.g., making yourself smaller, taking up less space), and generally attempting to 'keep the peace' or reinstate it.

"Freezing" is pretty much exactly what it says on the tin—you freeze. It means slipping into a dissociative state, which disconnects you from your body, your emotions/mind, and/or the outside world. Usually, people stop being able to talk well or at all, they do not move, and if they do, it is on autopilot; you do not fight or flee, you simply exist until what is causing the fear response is over.

While dissociating, your brain is unable to form full memories—and depending on how heavily you are dissociating, it does not form any memories at all.

Freezing as a response happens when fight, flight, and fawn aren't possible anymore, e.g., a child who has no internal mechanisms to deal with large amounts of fear because it's a child, so the only way to escape the pain and aggressor is by fleeing into your mind and shutting down.

Why am I telling you all this? Because most people tend to have one or two survival responses that dominate/they usually fall back on, and the same goes for Aziraphale and Crowley.

When faced with an outside problem and a lot of stress, Aziraphale's first instinct is to fawn, to placate the person, to diffuse the situation, to make sure everyone is agreeing, or, at the very least, submitting to authority figures or aggressors. It is what heaven teaches them—stick to the rules, don't ask questions, do what you are told. If fawning involves lying, he will do so, here the need for safety is stronger than his desire to be truthful and stick to his morals.

Unfortunately, the fact that this is his primary fear response is also the reason behind his extreme cognitive dissonance. How can you stick to the rules when you do not know what the rules ARE? So he is stuck trying to figure out what is "good" and what is "bad" so he can be a good angel and avoid doing anything that might be seen as bad or disobedient.

His secondary response to stress or fear is to fight—once it's clear that fawning won't work, he can and will switch over to being more direct and aggressive/less submissive. We see that happening when he gets discorporated in season 1 and needs to get back to earth, at the airbase, or when the bookshop gets attacked.

If I were to ask you what you think Crowley's primary fear response is, how would you respond?

Well, if you said "flight"—you're wrong, and I will explain why.

Flight is his secondary fear response, it is what he falls back on in absolute emergencies when everything is doomed and there's nothing he can do anymore.

Before that, though, he fights.

Even as an angel, he was already questioning the system, he was ready to go and tell God she was doing a terrible job, that her ideas were bad, that he wants to keep his stars and the universe— six thousand years are nothing! If you actively oppose existing rules and defy people's authority over you, fighting is the only option you have unless you plan on giving up or the response becomes too much to deal with.

Fear itself happens when you or someone/something you love is being threatened (whether that threat is real or simply perceived as such doesn't matter), plus there are a large number of more irrational fears.

Crowley's creations were threatened -> He goes against the rules, he wants to fight for them.

On the walls of Eden, he questions God and talks to an angel, his hereditary enemy, once again defying the rules, questioning them.

Job and his children were threatened -> He goes against orders to try and save them.

There is good reason to believe he went against God by saving some of the children from the flood.

He showed Jesus the kingdoms of the world—do we really think that was based on orders? No, it was once again Crowley not playing by the rules.

Wessex? He proposes the Arrangement, which is one gigantic "fuck you" in his fight against celestial rules. Everything after that goes back to Crowley knowing that their jobs suck and that they can cheat, fight the system by working together. In 1827, it gets him pulled to hell and punished, and yet he does not stop; he keeps fighting.

Crowley is the one who immediately tries to stop the apocalypse. Aziraphale needs to be talked into it, needs to be convinced with selfish reasons and personal pleasure.

The reason why both heaven and hell absolutely loathe him is not because he is a runner; it's because he constantly and consistently defies them. He fights.

In season two, he immediately tries to deal with the Gabriel problem while Aziraphale is standing behind him and saying "I don't know" to all of his questions. Taking him somewhere so they can figure shit out in peace is not 'running'—it's smart. Sure, it's far from ideal, but we see what keeping him in the bookshop brought them, don't we? The hiding miracle is what tipped heaven and hell off in the first place.

Aziraphale goes to Edinburgh based on a hunch, but once again—did that help? Did his journalist roleplay trip actually provide vital information that solved a single puzzle piece of that mess? No. Finding out that Gabriel was at that pub with some mystery person was a nice fact to know, but that's it.

During the ball, Crowley is scared, vigilant, prowling around the shop, checking windows, telling Aziraphale to "stop this charade" so they can figure out what to do. Aziraphale, in that moment, was already convinced that sticking to the rules would save them—a heavenly embassy on a technicality, surely the group of fallen angels who got booted due to not following heaven's rules will respect that.

Crowley goes to heaven, which is once again him actively looking for a solution, while Aziraphale also falls back on fighting because fawning is not going to do shit.

There are three times during which Crowley suggests fleeing—which is his secondary fear response—but those are exceptions. Let's have a look at them.

The first one is at the bandstand, the evening before the Apocalypse, and since Aziraphale is lying to him, the situation seems hopeless to him. Yet he is still having his 'agents' look for him, is still fighting.

Do you know why he even suggests running? He is about to leave when Aziraphale calls him back with "there isn't anywhere to go," and now allow me to insert the following passage from the scriptbook.

Crowley looks back. He looks at Aziraphale. Above them, a beautiful starry sky. And Crowley softens.

"Big universe. Even if this all ends up in a puddle of burning goo, we could go off together."

The sentence in the show is slightly different, but they have one thing in common: If.

IF the world ends, we can still leave and be together. IF.

Crowley is NOT saying "let's leave", he is presenting Aziraphale with a contingency plan in case stopping the Apocalypse does not work. He is NOT running, he isn't even SUGGESTING to run.

It's a "if the world ends, we can be together. We don't need to be with hell or heaven; we can be in the stars," because remember what the end of the world would mean? Eternal torture for Crowley while Aziraphale bores himself to death in heaven.

The next time he suggests it again—when he stops Aziraphale on the street—several things have happened.

First, he did not leave. If he truly wanted to flee, he would have by now, but he didn't. He sits in a cinema waiting for the end: "Out of time. Out of hope," as Neil puts it. Then Hastur and Ligur show up on screen and tell him, 'You're dead meat, Crowley. You're bloody history. […] We're coming to collect you'.

We all know that means "eternal torture in hell," but if you're not convinced for some reason, have another snippet from the script book that did not make it into the show.

Dagon is speaking from the Bentley's radio while he drives towards the bookshop, saying that something has gone wrong and they're sure he has a 'perfectly reasonable explanation' for it. Once he gets out of the car, however, Dagon still keeps going and says the following:.

"Your explanation, and the circumstances that will accompany it, will provide a source of entertainment for all the damned of hell, Crowley. Because no matter what agonies the damned are suffering, Crowley, you will have it worse."

Crowley already knows that. He has been punished by them before, heard, seen, lived torture, there is no doubt as to what will happen should they catch him. So he does what any person with a single fucking brain cell would do—he tries to get his loved one and FLEE.

Flight is the best response in this situation, and if you need me to explain why, then honestly, I cannot help you anymore. I won't go into detail about Aziraphale's response, but, tl;dr, it was shitty and incredibly hurtful, go figure.

Now, let's get to situation number 3, which is his speech during the final fifteen. We do not have an official script for that, but someone did make transcriptions for all episodes; you can find them here. Additionally, I will copy some of what I already said in a different meta post.

Crowley, stuck in his trauma-induced hypervigilance and paranoia, suggests putting as much distance between them and the problem as possible. I think it is interesting that in ep1 he wants to get Gabriel away from them, while at the end of the season, he is ready to get them away from the problem.

So far, I have never seen anyone mention that change! And it’s important! The entire season, it is hammered into our heads how much they love being on earth. It is THEIR bookshop and THEIR car and THEIR life.

Crowley wants to protect that home, and Gabriel is a threat to it, a threat to both of them, their life, the bookshop—everything. He does not want to leave, he wants his peace and angel in one place.

Yet by allowing Gabriel to stay, Aziraphale destroyed the sense of comfort and safety Crowley had slowly developed over the last few decades. Heaven nipping down every now and then to check in with Aziraphale is very different from him sheltering the Supreme Archangel who is running from ‘something terrible’ without even asking if he’s alright with that.

Aziraphale calls it their bookshop, but he fundamentally still sees it as his space to govern and Crowley as a guest; he even calls it a 'heavenly embassy'.

After another horrible week and having his previously safe space violated by several different times and beings, Crowley is back to where he was before—without a home. That fragile existence broke apart, so he is standing in the heap of shards and telling Aziraphale 'I don’t feel safe here anymore, let’s leave’.

He lost his safe space, but he still has his safe person, his best and only friend, the person he loves. I doubt he cares where exactly they go as long as they’re together and it’s safe.

Returning to heaven—it is the one place Crowley cannot follow him to. It’s literally the worst option, he can’t go back, he won’t go back. So he invokes the bookshop again, if you don’t want to stay for me, stay for the bookshop, your books, your corner of existence that I thought we had carved out for ourselves.

There is a common error that people make regarding the timeline, which is assuming that during this conversation they are already aware of the impending apocalypse—but they aren't. Aziraphale himself has no clue, and while Crowley saw the conversation and trial, he does NOT know when it will happen. For all he knows, it could be tomorrow, could be in a thousand years, and, even if he had been given a date, I doubt they laid out all the details and how to stop it.

Considering that his original plan was "get drunk at the Ritz and then have us time," I don't think he knew literally anything about how or when to stop it. So no, Crowley does NOT suggest running away from earth and leaving it to die.

All he wants is some bloody peace and quiet where no demons, angels, or power-hungry floating heads can interrupt them. A space that is safe and theirs. There are also zero mentions of where he wants them to go; he is not talking about the stars or the universe. He wants to get away from where they currently are because heaven and hell show up uninvited whenever they please.

If your boss and ex-boss constantly kicked down your front door and stated their wish to torture you, would you stay there or would you move? Yeah.

This post got very long, but it was long overdue.

I am tired of seeing people call Crowley a callous coward who always runs away from his problems when he is the literal opposite. You take three sentences said under exceptional circumstances and apply them to Crowley as a whole, when it is nothing but his last ditch effort to keep himself and Aziraphale safe.

One last thing: If you come onto my post and start aggressively arguing about this, I will block you. Genuine discussions and questions are always welcome, being a dick is not, and I also simply cannot handle some of the rhetoric people in this fandom perpetuate because it's very triggering.

Make your own post, don't do it on mine.

#alex talks good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen #crowley meta #aziraphale meta #crowley deserves better treatment from this fandom #and people that actually remember canon and don't take some fanfic version of him they have created during the hiatus #so many straight up factually incorrect takes #i dont know if i will make it until season 3 guys

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restinslices · 4 months

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Earth realm boys dating a popstar???? 👀👀👀👀

“Send me ideas guys” *proceeds to hit brain block* I didn’t know if you wanted the Lin Kuei Bros or Syzoth involved but imma add this little rule/guideline(?) so I don’t throw myself down the stairs. So the Earthrealm Boys will be Johnny, Kenshi, Kung Lao, Raiden and Liu Kang. Lin Kuei Bros are Bi-Han, Kuai Liang and Tomas. You can also ask for specific characters but IMMA LET YALL KNOW RIGHT NOW y’all have a limit of FIVE people per post or I’m sleeping in traffic.

Johnny Cage

If you think Johnny Cage is anything other than excited, you're wrong.

There's no way he doesn't enjoy dating a pop star.

He'd tell you how great your names sound together. Johnny Cage the movie star and you the pop star.

He's probably asked you if your songs can be in his movies.

I think he'd be extremely supportive. Sometimes a little overbearing. Some people might enjoy him wanting to come to every show, while some people may say “dude, calm down”.

Your ringtone on his phone is one of your songs for sure

He also asks for some of your merch for free since ya know, debt 😀

If there's a dance that goes along with it, I can definitely see him learning it and showing you how good (bad) he is

Please let him be in your music videos. He's on his knees begging

He has such a huge ego, he'd probably say something like “you can't possibly turn down an A lister like me”

He's so President of your fanclub

He also posts exclusives of you on his social media

This may sound selfish but he's hoping your popularity will increase his. When we meet him, his fame is dying out so he's hoping being seen with you will remind people he exists

Don't get it misconstrued though. He adores you. He just can't help but have these thoughts

Probably makes you promise to dedicate a song to him too. Realistically he wants an album but he'll take whatever

He's so Ken coded to me and remember, Ken only has a great day if Barbie looks at him. You're his Barbie, regardless of gender

Kenshi Takahashi

Considering the fact that he's on the run from the Yakuza, uhhhh he's not the happiest

Is he proud? Yeah. But dating him puts a huge target on your back. Kenshi can hide. You, as a popstar, can't do that. You're always in the spotlight. And since the Yakuza got connections, they'd find out somehow.

He'd encourage you to take a break until things cool over. Only problem is he doesn't know when that'd be, and the music industry is competitive. You don't have time to be on a break. People could forget about you.

Under any other circumstance, he'd be happy for you. Not many people can make it in the music industry. There are tons of people who have big plans but settle for less.

In any other circumstance he'd listen to your songs, spread the word about your concerts, buy your merch cause he's not in debt, even attend a few concerts.

Now though, he's uptight and worried. Every concert you have he's worried will be your last. Any fan meet you have he's worried will end in death.

I honestly think he'd try to actively avoid anything that has to do with your career. It's a constant reminder that you're doing the exact opposite of what he's asking you to and you're putting yourself in danger. This could possibly cause a lot of arguments since he could come off as controlling when in reality he's worried and trying to be cautious

He's trying to avoid anything to do with your career but every playlist he has has your songs sprinkled throughout them

Overall he's proud of you but life has him pretty uptight. He'll be his normal self once he restores his clan.

Kung Lao

This cocky little shit is so hype his partner is famous

I can see him talking about your music with others like “my partner? They make music. You probably know them. I don't know yours though cause they're unknown. How are y'all paying the bills?”

You tell him not to do that but he continues anyway. Everyone had to know how awesome you were compared to them

Idk why I have this scene in my head of him buying your concert tickets to sell it again but make it more expensive. I legit don't know why but I couldn't ignore it.

Kung Lao has such a huge ego and your success does not help that. In fact, it makes it worse

How many people can say they're dating a popstar? Or anyone famous for that matter?

I can see him “helping” with lyrics but the shit he tries to add is dog shit so you do not add it, which he does not get.

“I have an ear for music” “An ear. Not a talent”

Starts a fanclub and forces Raiden to be involved

You'd think he's the popstar with how much pride he has when it comes to your career

Like Kenshi, he has a whole playlist dedicated to you and your songs are sprinkled throughout his other playlists

If you ask for his honest opinion on a song, he's gonna give you his honest opinion so be prepared. It's like asking a kid if a jacket makes you look fat.

He doesn't mean to be malicious. He just can't have you releasing bad shit. His approach just isn't the best but it's all with love

“What do you think about Bubblegum?” “The chorus isn't catchy at all if I'm being honest. You've definitely made better”

He'd help though by saying what he liked from other songs and it'd steer you in the right direction

Your career? No. Y'ALL career. UterUS type shit

In all seriousness, he's very happy that out of all the celebrities you could be with, you chose a non celebrity like him.

Raiden

Honestly I don't think anyone would even know you're dating. He's just too shy.

With Johnny, he's famous and has no shame so that's how people know you're together. The Yakuza is out here so that's how they know about you and Kenshi. Kung Lao is Kung Lao, idk how else to explain it. With Raiden though, I don't think he'd want your fans to know you're dating.

He's shy and also values privacy and you respect that. Your fans know you're dating someone just not who.

He probably has a second account he uses to stay up to date with fan discourse

Likes every edit of you and shows you them.

“Were you looking these up?” “I… don't know what you could possibly mean”

I don't think he's a big concert person. I don't know why. At least not a huge, no personal space type of concert. So I think he'd do other things to support like using that second account to promote your activities, reposting edits, and buying your stuff.

Knowing his luck, that second account for privacy and being sneaky would end up getting fans attention. He'd become the main update page everyone goes to. Guess he wasn't sneaky enough

Probably asks you to sing to him when it's quiet

Has bought a poster of you and forgot to take it down when you came over

“Kung Lao put that up” “Mhm, sure”

He has two hats. His normal hat and a hat that has stickers of you on it. Kung Lao or Johnny probably did it to tease him but he kept it anyway

Dedicate a song to him and watch how flustered he gets. He'd be so honored

If you had an MV and there was a love interest in it, he wouldn't wanna be jealous but it'd happen.

Everytime he sees you perform or hears you, he falls deeper in love. Like Kung Lao, he's very happy you picked him to be your love and muse

Liu Kang

He probably saw this coming based on your life in the past timeline

Knowing how the past timelines were though, your life was probably chaotic and your music career was probably disturbed by the constant threats

Seeing you just having fun and making music in this timeline would make him extremely happy and proud of himself for creating such a peaceful timeline (at first)

Liu Kang has glowing eyes so there's a chance concerts aren't happening, but I think he'd still stream your music like everyone else

Would probably try to keep you far away from any disturbances. When he takes his champions to Outworld, he makes up a lie. He doesn't want what you're passionate about disturbed at all

Supportive in the sense that he's always going to say “yes” to whatever ideas you have. A breakup song? Great idea. A fun party song? Awesome. A fan meet? Sounds fun.

He genuinely just wants you happy this time and music makes you happy.

You could talk him into using his fire as some background effect as long as others won't see

He talks you into doing smaller performances at Madam Bo's. You're spying on Raiden and Kung Lao without even knowing

Whenever you find out about the shit storm going on, he does not want you involved and will say so. He wants you to focus on your passion and let him take care of it. Whether you do or not is up to you

After all that though you'd probably end up making music for Johnny's movie about shit that happened. He doesn't disapprove but thinks you can do better than make a soundtrack for Johnny 'Big Mouth’ Cage

Secret fanboy. Forced to act all serious all the time but he's mumbling your lyrics under his breath, even if it's super cutesy.

He's just so happy for you. I know I keep repeating it but you probably DIED in the past timeline or some shit so seeing you happy and just living? It shows his efforts for peace paid off.

I usually say smth after but idk what to say. I wanna start art commissions so bad but half bodies are kicking my ass. I’m finna start tweaking fr

#mk1 #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 #johnny cage #johnny cage mk1 #johnny cage x reader #kenshi takahashi #kenshi takahashi mk1 #kenshi takashi x reader #kung lao #kung lao mk1 #kung lao x reader #raiden #raiden mk1 #raiden mortal kombat #raiden x reader #liu kang #liu kang mk1 #liu kang x reader

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