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#I feel like I tell this story all the time
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"Let's Have a Talk, First"- Stereotypes, pt 1
Come sit down. You and I, before we get into any of the things I'm sure you're impatient to know: we need to have a come to Jesus talk, first.
There are some things that I've been asked and seen that strengthens my belief that we need to have a reframing of the conversation on stereotypes in media away from something as simple as "how do I find the checklist of stereotypes to avoid". Because race- and therefore racial stereotypes- is a complex construct! Stands to reason then, that seeing, understanding, and avoiding it won't be that simple! I'm going to give you a couple pointers to (hopefully) help you rethink your approach to this topic, and therefore how to apply it when you're writing Black characters- and even when thinking about Black people!
Point #1: DEVELOP THE CHARACTER!! WRITE!!
Excuse my crude language, but let me be blunt: Black people- and therefore Black characters- will get angry at things, and occasionally make bad choices in the heat of the moment. Some of us like to fuck real nasty, some might be dominant in the bedroom, they may even be incredibly experienced! Others of us succumb to circumstance and make poor decisions that lead to crime.
None of those things inherently makes any of us angry Black women and threatening Black men, Jezebels and BBC Mandingos, and gangsters and thugs!
Black people are PEOPLE! Write us as such!
If all Black characters ever did was go outside, say "hi neighbor!" and walk back in the house, we'd be as boring as racist fans often accuse.
I say this because I feel I've seen advice that I feel makes people think writing a Black character that… Emotes negatively, or gets hurt by life and circumstance, or really enjoys hard sex, or really any scenario where they might "look bad" is the issue. I can tell many people think "well if I write that, then it's a stereotype" and to avoid the difficulty, they'll probably end up writing a flat Black character or not writing them at all. Or- and I've seen this too- they'll overcompensate in the other direction, which reveals that they 'wrote a different sort of Black person!' and it comes off just as awkwardly because it means you think that the Black people that do these things are 'bad'. And I hate that, because we're capable of depth, nuance, good, evil, adventure, world domination, all of it!
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My point is, if you write your character like the human being they are, while taking care to recognize that you as the writer are not buying into stereotypes with your OWN messaging, you're fine. We have emotions, we have motivations and goals, we make decisions, and we make mistakes, just like anybody else. Write that! Develop your character!
POINT #2: YOU CAN'T CONTROL THE READERS!!
Okay. You can write the GREATEST Black character ever, full of depth, love, nuance, emotional range, all those things…. And people are still going to be racist about them. Sorry. There is absolutely nothing you can do to control a reader coming from that place of bias you sought to avoid. If it's not there, TRUST AND BELIEVE, it'll be projected onto them.
That passionate young Black woman who told the MC to get her head out of her ass? Yeah she's an angry Black bitch now, and bully to the sweet white MC. Maybe a lesbian mommy figure if they like her enough to "redeem" her. That Black gay male lead that treats his partner like he worships the ground he walks on? Yeah he's an abusive thug that needs to die now because he disagreed One Time with his white partner. That Black trans woman who happened to be competing against the white MC, in a story where the white MC makes comparable choices? Ohhhh they're gonna be VILE about that poor woman.
It really hurts- most especially as a Black fan and writer- knowing that you have something amazing to offer (as a person and creative) and people are gonna spit on that and call it "preference". That they can project themselves onto white characters no matter what, but if you project your experiences onto black characters, it's "pandering", "self insert", "woke", "annoying", "boring", and other foul things we've all gotten comments of.
But expect that it's gonna happen when you write a Black character, again, especially if you're a Black writer. If you're not Black, it won't hurt as personally, but it will probably come as a shock when you put so much effort in to create a lovely character and people are just ass about them. Unfortunately, that is the climate of fandom we currently exist in.
My favorite example is of Louis De Pointe Du Lac from AMC's Interview With The Vampire. Louis is actually one of the best depictions of the existential horror that is being Black in a racist White world I have ever seen written by mostly nonblack people. It was timeless; I related to every single source of racist pain he experienced.
People were HORRIFIC about Louis.
It didn't matter that he was well written and what he symbolized; many white viewers did NOT LIKE this man. There's a level of empathy and understanding that Black characters in particular don't receive in comparison to white counterparts, and that's due to many of those stereotypes and systemic biases I'm going to talk about.
My point is, recognize that while yes, you as the author have a duty to write a character thoughtfully as you can, it's not going to stop the response of the ignorant. Writing seeking to get everyone to understand what you were trying to do… Sisyphean effort. It's better to focus on knowing that YOU wrote something good, that YOU did not write the stereotype that those people are determined to see.
POINT #3: WHY is something a stereotype?
While there are lists of stereotypes against Black people in media and life that can be found, I would appreciate if people stopped approaching it as just a list of things you can check off to avoid. You can know what the stereotypes are, sure, but if you don't understand WHY they're a problem and how they play into perception of us, you'll either end up writing a flat character trying to avoid that list, or you're going to write other things related to that stereotype because "oh its not item #1"... and it'll still be racist.
For example: if you wrote a "sassy Black woman" that does a z formation neck rotation just because a store manager asked her something… that's probably stereotype. If you thought of a character that needed to be "loudmouthed", "sassy", and "strong" and a dark-skinned black woman was automatically what fit the profile in your mind, ding ding ding! THAT'S where you need to catch your racist biases.
But a dark-skinned Black woman character cursing out a store manager because she's had a really bad, stressful day and their attitude towards her pushed her over the edge may be in the wrong, but she's not an "angry Black woman". She's a Black woman that's angry! And if you wrote the day she had to be as bad as would drive anyone to overstimulation and anxiety, the blow up will make sense! The development and writing behind her led to this logical point (which connects to point #1!)
I'm not going to provide a truly exhaustive list of Black stereotypes in media because that would ACTUALLY be worth a college credited class and I do this for free lmao. But I am going to provide some classic examples that can get y'all started on your own research.
POINT #4: WATCH BLACK NARRATIVES!
As always, I'm gonna push supporting Black creators, because that's the best way to see the range of what you'd like. You want to see Black villains? We got those! Black heroes? Black antiheroes? Assholes, lovers, comedians, depressed, criminals, kings, and more? They exist! You can get inspired by watching those movies and reading those books, see how WE depict us!
I've seen mixed reviews on it, BUT- I personally really enjoyed Swarm, because it was one of the first times I'd ever seen that "unhinged obsessed murderous Black fan girl" concept. Tumblr usually loves that shit lmao. Even the "bites you bites you bites you [thing I love]" thing was there. And she liked girls, too. Just saying. I thought it was a fun idea that I'd love to see more of. Y'all gotta give us a chance to be in these roles, to tell these tales. We can do it too, and you'd enjoy it if you tried to understand it!
POINT#5: You are NOT Black!
This is obvious lmao, but if you're not Black, there's no need to pretend. There's no need to think "oh well I have to get a 100% perfect depiction of the Black person's mind". That's… That's gonna look cringe, at its best. You don't have to do that in order to avoid stereotypes. You're not going to be able to catch every nuance because it's not your lived experience, nor is it the societally enforced culture. Just… Do what you can, and if you feel like it's coming off hokey… Maybe consider if you want to continue this way lol. If you know of any Black beta readers or sensitivity reviewers, that'd be a good time to check in!
For example, if your Black character is talking about "what's good my homie" and there's absolutely no reason for him to be speaking that way other than to indicate that he's Black… 😬 I can't stop you but… Are you sure?
An egregious example of a TERRIBLE way to write a Black character is the "What If: Miles Morales/Thor" comic. I want to emphasize the lack of good Black character design involved in some of these PROFESSIONAL art spaces, because that MARVEL comic PASSED QA!! That comic went past NUMEROUS sets of eyes and was APPROVED!! IT GOT RELEASED!! NO ONE STOPPED IT!!
I'm sorry, it was just so racist-ly bad that it was hilarious. Like you couldn't make that shit up.
Anyway, unfortunately that's how some of y'all sound trying to write AAVE. I promise that we speak the Queen's English too lmao. If you're worried you won't get it right, just use the standard form of English. It's fine! Personally, I'd much rather you do that than try to 'decode AAVE' if you don't know how to use it.
My point is, if you're actively "forcing" yourself to "think Black"… maybe you need to stand down and reconsider your approach lmao. This is why understanding the stereotypes and social environment behind them will help you write better, because you can incorporate that Blackness- without having to verbally "emphasize how Black this is"- into their character, motivations, and actions.
Conclusion
We need to reconsider how we approach the concepts of stereotypes when writing our Black characters. The goal is not to cross off a checklist of things to avoid per se, but to understand WHY we have to develop our Black characters well enough to avoid incorporating them into our writing. Give your Black characters substance- we're human beings! We have motivations and fears and desires! We're not perfect, but we're not inherently flawed because of our race. That's what makes the difference!
And as always, and really in particular for this topic, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
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ceilidho · 3 days
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take me home, country road
[ao3]
You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 12) [note: trigger warning for a pretty rough spanking scene with a belt and minimal aftercare. if you need to, you can skip to the midway point (there's a line between the first half and second).]
first chapter >> last chapter
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He keeps your hands tied behind your back on the ride home.
All that does is confirm the fact that he must know. Graves must have tracked him down or perhaps he was approached by someone who did consider your sudden arrival in town suspicious. Why else would the sheriff chase you all the way into the mountains on horseback and then take you back with him? He would’ve within his rights to leave your thieving self to wander alone in the woods and succumb to the elements.
John doesn’t say a word the first hour of the ride back. You can feel the anger emanating from him though. He almost shakes with it. His anger somehow upsets you more than whatever is left to come. 
“Anytime you wanna start talkin’, I’m all ears,” John finally says, breaking the silence. 
You keep your lips pressed together, stubbornly silent. There’s no use giving yourself away before you’ve learned how much he knows. You haven’t built this life of yours with loose lips. 
“I don’t know what in the Sam Hill has gotten into you,” he continues, and his voice is cobblestone tread rough in the night. “Running off all by yourself. There ain’t nothing out in these parts except outlaws and highwaymen. There are men out here that’d love to get their hands on a woman like you—not even a knife to defend yourself with. You haven’t even got a scrap of food on you, never mind water. You’d’ve been dead in a week if the men out here hadn’t picked you off themselves.”
His words make your stomach ache. You know that there are worse things out there. A thousand gruesome ways to die. You’re less of a lady than John might think—you’ve heard stories. You’ve brushed close to that reality yourself. You wonder how he’d take it if you were to tell him about what had happened back east. 
Maybe running away this time hadn’t been your smartest idea, but it had been your only. You can’t fault yourself for the instinct to survive. 
“I know,” you mumble, dropping your chin to your chest. 
“You gonna explain to me why you stole my horse and ran off in the first place?” he asks. 
It’s the strangest interrogation you’ve ever heard of—sitting on the same horse with your back to the man questioning you and your hands tied together at the wrists. You wonder if you leaned back whether you’d feel his heart beating furiously in his chest. 
You remain mulishly silent though, reticent to answer the question.
“Maybe I’ve been spoiling you,” he continues, trying to rationalize it to himself. “After the fuss you put up those first few days, I thought a bit of structure and discipline would do you well, and it did. Giving you a bit of slack was my mistake.”
You frown at that. Those don’t sound like the words of a man with any knowledge of the circumstances leading to you running off. He might not even have come across Graves at all in the hours since the man made his appearance in the general store. Otherwise, you can’t imagine how he wouldn’t make the connection. 
Still, you can’t make yourself come right out and say it, even though every iota of your being aches to let the truth out. Call it nerves overpowering the need to be truthful and good. You vacillate between honesty and self-preservation, but each avenue feels like being dropped into a nest of vipers. 
But he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. If he knew, he wouldn’t question you like this. It’s a boon you can’t give up, not yet. Not when the thought of his inevitable righteous fury fills you with dread and self-loathing. 
“I don’t have to explain myself,” you spit out suddenly, and it’s not you saying those words but something ugly and sad in you. “You’re not my owner.”
“I damn sure am your husband though,” John growls, winding his free hand around your hair to tug you back into his chest. “And I know these parts far better than you, little miss. Beyond running off on me for no good reason when I thought we put your reticence behind us, you went and put yourself in danger the likes of which you couldn’t even fathom.”
“I’m not an idiot,” you snap. “I know what men are like.”
“You’re telling me you pulled that stunt knowing what kinda danger is out there in the woods?”
“I wasn’t thinking!”
“I know you weren’t,” John grunts. “That’s the issue.” 
The rest of the ride home is uncomfortably quiet. John keeps one hand clamped on your waist while the other holds the reins of both horses, the two walking alongside each other back down the trail towards the house. The ride home is a lot longer than the ride out into the woods since John refuses to let either of them go faster than a slow trot while your hands are tied behind your back. 
He snorts in derision at your suggestion to undo your binds. “That eager for your punishment?” 
That gets you to zip your lips. 
When you get drowsy, John tips your head back and makes you sip from his waterskin. His hand fits carefully around your throat to hold your head in place, his fingers curling around to just graze the nape of your neck. Your throat pulses under his palm when you swallow. It’s far too intimate for how restless you feel, damn near shaking out of your skin, but it briefly shushes the voice in your head until he pulls his hand away. 
A shadow under the doorway of the house startles you at first before it takes a step into the faint light of the setting sun and you recognize the bristly blond of Simon’s shorn head and the red bandana shrouding the bottom half of his face. The tension ebbs back into you when you realize with creeping humiliation that the black horse you rode home on must belong to him. 
He watches the two of you approach with predictable disinterest, his eyes betraying nothing. The shame is excruciating. 
John brings the horse to a halt some feet from Simon, not bothering to greet him. You wonder if it’s the anger choking him or if this is just routine, men trading favors in silence lest a word in gratitude break the spell. After dismounting himself, John helps you down, all but picking you up and lifting you off the horse. 
Simon doesn’t say a word to either of you when he takes the reins from John’s hands, giving him only a curt nod and you a cursory glance before leading his horse away to mount. He doesn’t spare you a backwards glance before taking off back towards town. You watch him over your shoulder while John guides you up the porch steps and into the house, until the shape of him disappears into the horizon. Then the door shuts behind you. 
Alone now, your attention turns back to John. He stares down at you consideringly, a hand planted on the door he just shut until he lets it fall to his side. You can see the gears turning in his mind, weighing something out. 
It wouldn’t be right to call it anticipation; it’s not quite dread either. 
“I don’t make idle threats, you know,” he says, apropos of nothing. 
His words make you frown until you glance down to find him undoing his belt. Your blood turns to ice. He tugs the thick strap until it comes sliding out of each loop around his waist. The buckle rests heavy in his palm, thick fingers curling around it, and when he bends the belt in two, you already know that he intends to follow through with his threat from earlier, the one you said you’d gut him for.
“I’ll scream,” you warn, heart in your throat. It almost chokes you. “I mean it. I’ll scream like the devil.”
“Don’t go makin’ no empty threats now, darlin’,” he says in a low voice, almost taunting. You can hear the hard edge in his voice though. It’s not something he craves, but he’ll take it. 
“You touch me with that thing and I’ll never forgive you.” 
John’s eyes go hard. “I’ll just have to take that chance.” 
And then he’s on you.
He hooks an arm around your waist when you try to rush past him back out the door and it forces the breath out of you. 
You struggle as best you can with your hands tied behind your back, trying to wriggle out of his hold even as he heaves you up into his arms and climbs the staircase towards the bedroom. The steps creak under the added weight of you in his arms. The screams come tearing from your throat, ripping your vocal cords and nearly sending you into a coughing fit. 
“Let—me—go—” you shriek, kicking out wildly, hoping to catch something that’ll make him lose his balance. 
“All that squirmin’ ain’t making me feel more merciful,” he growls. 
John kicks the bedroom door open with his foot when he reaches the top of the staircase. The room looks ominous without the oil lamp lit, the shadows growing in the corners swallowing up the end table. The bed is just as you made it this morning, the sheets pressed tight and neat, and you only get a second to take that in before he marches towards the bed and throws you down onto it.  
You hit the bed hard, bouncing slightly. He sits down heavily enough to jostle you and when you try to roll away on instinct, a hand catches you by the bicep and pulls you back. He hauls you across the bulk of his thighs this time, far different from your first meeting back in the sheriff’s office all those weeks ago. Your feet don’t even touch the floor this time around, dangling in the air and flailing for purchase. 
“You brute—you bastard!” you screech.
“I’m not gonna be as charitable this time,” John says, yanking your dress up and your drawers down until your bare bottom is exposed. You gasp at the cold air, murmuring something like please, please, please under your breath. “Even if I knew why it was you decided to run off, that doesn’t excuse the fact that you did. You coulda been hurt or worse out there, darlin’, and I’d never have forgiven myself. I’m gonna make sure the lesson sinks in this time.”
He folds the leather belt to hold it in one hand, leaving the other to pin you down over his thighs, making sure you don’t wriggle out. The leather is cool at first when he drags it over your butt. It makes your breathing pick up. It’s so gentle that you can almost trick yourself into thinking that it’s all he intends to do. 
The first lash comes so quick that you barely register it. The second knocks the wind out of you, and then the pain sets in. 
It stings something fierce. Where his palm hurt that first time he bent you over his desk and spanked you, the belt burns. It goes deep and it lingers when he pulls the leather away from your stinging bottom. 
“Hurts like the dickens, don’t it?” John asks, not bothering to wait for confirmation before bringing the belt down again. “You’re lucky it’s only ten this time.”
You howl into the bedsheets, eyes tearing up and spilling down your cheeks. When you try to cover your ass with your bound hands, John grabs them and pins them to the small of your back. 
“What’ll you never do again?” he growls. 
“I—I’ll—”
“Say it, darlin’: I’ll never run off on my own again.”
“I’ll—n-never gonna—oh, it hurts, John—please—”
At some point, you must say the words he’s looking for. You lose count of how many times his belt has struck across your ass. Like thunder coming after lightning, you feel it and then you hear it. The sharp snap comes as a second wave of agony in and of itself. 
Your throat is stripped raw by the time it’s over. The aftermath finds you with a puddle of drool under your cheek, hair matted to your face. Sweat slicks the backs of your thighs and down your spine. Even the gentlest brush of John’s hand over your backside, the belt deposited off the side of the bed, makes you flinch, the skin there tender to the touch. You’ll surely feel it deep in your bones come sunrise. 
Too exhausted for anger, all you can do is lie there. It sits heavy in your stomach though, a pit at the center of you. You want to say, who gave you the right? The answer burns a ring around your finger though. You want to say, you don’t understand, it had nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with him and you. 
You can tell he wants to say something. It gets choked in his throat, but you can hear it in the way his breath draws in, like he’s trying to coax it from his chest but it simply won’t come out. 
“Stay right there,” John rumbles instead, shifting you onto the bed to let you lie on your belly. 
You moan in pain when he moves you, sniffling into your arms. The crook of your elbow is sticky with your tears and snot. 
The bed dips under his weight when he comes back. You flinch violently when he draws the skirt of your dress up again and smooths his hand over the tender cheeks of your backside, spreading a cool salve over your skin. The first touch of his hand makes you hiss, tears beading in the corners of your eyes again, but then the cool sinks in, alleviating the ache. 
He does that for another few minutes in silence. Gentle, tentative touches, only stopping when the salve has been spread evenly over your bottom. He’s quiet when he shifts you up the bed until your feet are no longer dangling off the end. You’re distantly aware of him taking off your shoes and tucking you into bed, but the events of the day have finally gotten the better of you. It would be easier to push a boulder up a hill than crack even one of your eyelids open.
Time passes slowly; sluggishly. Your thoughts can’t quite catch up with it, either too quick or too slow. You’re stuck in thoughts of the desert, caught in a sandstorm that manifests too suddenly for you to take cover. All you can do is close your eyes and wait it out. 
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Morning comes like a brutal summoning into the waking world. 
It hurts, but you expected that. Before your eyes even open, you’re aware of a throbbing pain coming from your backside. You wince when you shift to your side, squeezing your eyes tight. You contemplate rolling over and taking your chances with John’s temper. The thought isn’t as appealing in the light of day though. 
It takes some time to get out of bed and when you do, you have to step tentatively from floorboard to floorboard, the ache making it decidedly uncomfortable. You can’t imagine what sitting down will be like. Riding a horse is just out of the question. 
From the bedroom window, you see John standing in front of the house with Simon, back again not even twelve hours later. With the window closed, you can’t hear their conversation, nor can you read their lips. Their exchange doesn’t last long though. After another minute or so, and a nod goodbye, Simon walks back over to his horse standing nearby and lifts himself up and over onto the saddle, taking off towards town. 
When John turns back towards the house, you see him glance up towards the bedroom window where you stand. The circles beneath his eyes are dark, pronounced. On another day, you might’ve ducked out of sight or jumped away from the window, but now you hold his gaze. 
He breaks your stare first this time, heading back inside. It’s less satisfying than you thought it’d be. 
You spend the day resting in bed and avoiding John for the most part. He spends the majority of the day out of the house. You hear him downstairs in the kitchen around midday, fixing himself up something to eat, and you listen attentively to the scrape of the chair across the floor and the pan on the stovetop. Like the day he brought you home, he brings you up a tray only to leave it at the door, rapping the door with his knuckles to let you know before heading back downstairs. 
When he comes up for bed, you’re already lying down with your back to the door, the oil lamp left unlit. John doesn’t say anything to you as he changes into his nightwear. He smells fresh when he climbs into bed, like he bathed in the creek out in the woods. You breathe in deeply, trying to keep your breath quiet enough to not disturb the silence. The pillow under your head is saturated with his scent. You turn your nose into it when he lies down on his back instead of curling into you like he usually does. 
Your chest aches at that simple denial. There’s a wall between the two of you and you know where it came from. Any trust that you’d built lies in ruins now. 
Perhaps that’s not quite right though. It’s a romantic notion that you’ve been building something together all this time, but it doesn’t feel right now that you have the wherewithal to look back and reflect. All this time, whenever you’ve touched, you’ve held him steadfast and at an arm's length away, stopping two degrees short of intimacy. 
Deliberately effusive; and worse, you’ve called it affection. 
The tenderness in your heart is the worst of it. There’s a bruise there, and it’s been there awhile. It’s only grown with your recent troubles. You tell yourself every year that you’ll air it out come spring, but then the winter comes and it freezes over again.  
The pillow under your chest grows damp with your tears. 
Your dress the next morning is cornflower blue. The wheatfields are golden stalks swaying in the breeze. It’s a pleasanter day than how you feel. 
The ride into town is as painful as you thought it might be. You wince with every stride, your bottom still tender as a rose. John’s arm tightens around your waist when you squirm, like you might slide off the saddle and try to flee again, and you bite your lip to hold back the urge to snap. 
The little bit of independence you’d grown to enjoy is snatched away from you. You expected that as well, but that loss of privilege comes with a biting ache. You fight the urge to gnash your teeth and bark at him that you’re not a child when he grips you under the arm and leads you down the road. It wouldn’t do you any good. 
When John leaves you off at the general store, you’re surprised to find Kate back, hale and hearty. She looks up when the chime over the door jingles and raises her eyebrows in greeting. The sound makes you flinch, memories coming back unbidden. 
You look over your shoulder to say something to John before he leaves, but the door is already closing behind him by the time you turn around. Your lips are pursed on a word that dissolves in your mouth. It has a bitter aftertaste. 
“Thought you wouldn’t be back for a few more days,” you say instead, turning back to Kate. There’s already a chair pulled up for you by the wall and you make yourself comfortable there, grimacing at first when your sore backside touches the wood before settling in. 
She shrugs. “Plans changed. Gaz and I made it back late last night.”
You frown. “Gaz?”
“Kyle Garrick. Sorry—slip of the tongue. You’ve met him already. He used to go by Gaz way back when.”
“Way back when?”
“Not my story to tell. You should ask one of them, if you’re curious.”
You are, but not enough to ask. “Maybe.”
The two of you lapse into silence after that exchange. Before leaving the house, you remembered to bring with you some needles and wool to pass the time. They’re not as familiar in your hands as you’d like them to be, but you suppose, barring the possibility of Graves or another bounty hunter showing up in town to cart you off, you’ll have time to learn. 
The thought leaves you anxious. It feels distinctly more possible now. 
“You met Miles while I was away?” Kate asks, out of the blue.
Your head comes up at her question. “Miles?”
“He was minding the store for me while I was away. Said you came in the other day.”
You swallow reflexively. “Oh. Yes, I suppose I did meet him. I didn’t stay long, since you were gone and all.”
She hums and looks back down at the book in front of her. You feel nervous all of a sudden. 
“He said you were very helpful,” she says abruptly, breaking the silence. You flinch. “Told me some gentleman came by with a warrant for a murder back east and you were kind enough to take it to your husband for him so he could keep minding the shop.”
Your throat constricts. She pins you under her gaze, unblinking eyes staring into yours but not looking for anything. Wispy blonde bangs brush along her forehead when she tilts her head ever so slightly. 
You nod instead of answering. 
“Did you give it to him?” she asks.
“I didn’t have a chance to. The day got away from me,” you say tersely. 
“I heard something about that. Kyle said John had to borrow Simon’s horse the other day. Said something about him taking off in a hurry.”
Again, you don’t answer. It feels like without knowing it, you’ve crossed over a threshold. 
“Do you still have it?” Kate prompts when again you don’t respond. You don’t tell her that you don’t because in all the fuss the other day, it must have slipped out of your pocket and drifted off into the wind. “The warrant?”
“No,” you whisper, shaking your head. 
“That’s alright. I have a good enough idea about what it might’ve said.” 
Sweat beads on your upper lip. She all but says it outloud. You’re as still as a ferrotype under her gaze, imprinted in place, unable to move so much as a muscle or force a word past your stiff lips. 
“You’re under no obligation to tell me or anyone,” Kate says, and her voice is suddenly gentle, softer than you’ve ever heard it before. “I’m sure you had your reasons. I won’t be telling John, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Oh. Thank you,” you breathe, throat so tight that the words almost don’t come out. 
It’s the closest you’ve come to admitting to it, tangentially or not, and even now it’s spoken only out of the corner of your mouth. You don’t think you have it in you to recite the events sequentially. Even in the privacy of your memory, it comes piecemeal, in fragmented images that flicker across your mind because maybe to remember it whole would be too much. 
You don’t say much more after that, and neither does Kate. That wasn’t the point of bringing it up, you think. You'd know if it was. 
When John comes to fetch you at the end of the day, you leave without saying goodbye to Kate. Only a stiff smile before heading out on your way. If she returns your smile, you don’t notice it. To John, you simply duck your head and follow him out the door, letting him help you up onto the horse without a word. 
If it bothers him that you refuse to speak to him, he doesn’t show it. 
It’s so many steps back that you might as well be back where you started. Maybe even further back, a voyage gone so wrong that when you look over your shoulder, you can’t make heads or tails of where you came from. The trees from the other side of the trail never look quite the same. 
If you could open your mouth and say it, you would. If you knew he’d listen. But you don’t think John is that kind of man. Against the gold of the setting sun, he cuts a figure from times of yore. He speaks plain while you tend to speak in fricatives and bilabial stops, incapable of enunciating the words. 
You feel like a wound on the world. Getting it wrong again and again. 
It’s an old pain, one that started back when you were too small to hold it all. Now, you’ve grown large enough to hold it, though it holds you back in turn. You remember your parents studiously ignoring first creation like some noxious cloud billowing from the chimney. There’d been too many children for them to care about the runt. Shipped off to your aunt’s and uncle’s just for the cycle to repeat itself. 
It’s an old grief, this one, friendly because it nudges at your hips when you brush by, striking in the blue-green. And when it burns, it burns.
“John, I—” you say when he helps you down back at the house. 
He stares down at you, waiting you out. Your mouth goes dry, the truth beyond your grasp again. Your heart aches when his brows furrow and the lines around his eyes crease again, frustration welling beneath the surface. 
You understand. It sits under your skin too. 
"Go inside," he says instead when you don't go on. "I'll bring in the horses and start supper."
Your God sits at the edge of the bed, wholly lacking praise. It’s not His fault that it’s been awhile. These days, you can hardly muster up the energy to say hello. You gargle saltwater before you bathe and scrub your skin free of blood, waiting for the next morning to come.
And you think, lying on your side while John sleeps on the other side of the bed, wouldn’t it be lovely to get it right now, rather than in retrospect?
776 notes · View notes
perlelune · 2 days
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Lucky | Rafe Cameron
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For years, you had a crush on your best friend, one he never returned. You thought he'd be happy to see you move on. You couldn't be more wrong.
Warnings: NON-CON, Kook!Reader, Jealousy, Angst, Pining, Toxicity
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
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Your lips curl skyward as you scroll through your phone. As you read every message it’s hard to refrain from kicking your feet and giggling as if you were back in middle school. It’s how he makes you feel. Giddy. Wanted. It’s your first time experiencing such feelings and you’ve been perched on a fluffy cloud all afternoon. 
But remembering you aren’t alone, you try your best to keep a straight face. You’re in a bikini bottom and an oversized shirt by the Camerons’ pool. It’s a bright, sunny day, not a cloud in sight in the sky above Tannyhill.
The unforgiving, North Carolina heat has already melted the ice cubes in your drink. If it weren’t for the generous amounts of sunscreen you've applied earlier, you’d already be sunburnt from hours spent outside.
Rafe lifts his sunglasses from the edge of the pool, curiosity dancing in his blue eyes.
“You’ve been glued to your phone all afternoon, princess.”
You suppress your smile. Feigning nonchalance, you flip your phone down for good measure. 
“I have not.”
“Have too,” he counters, in the exact same way he used to utter those words when you argued back and forth as kids.
He hauls himself out of the pool. You’re graced with the sight of Rafe stepping out of the water, droplets glistening over his broad, toned chest, defined abs and thick, bulging arms. He’s been going especially hard at the gym since summer began. It shows. Your best friend now looks like a breathing, walking Abercrombie ad. You wouldn’t be surprised if the brand gave him a call soon. Not that you’d tell him that. No need to blow up Rafe Cameron’s over-inflated ego even more. 
As you watch him run his fingers through his drenched blonde locks, his golden ring glinting under the sunlight, pride flutters through you. Once upon a time, the sight of Rafe Cameron in nothing but his swim trunks would have had your heart racing and your entire body flush with shameful heat at how unbelievably attractive you found your best friend. 
That was before. When you still clung to the crush you harbored for him for years.
You and Rafe have basically known each other your whole lives.
Since kindergarten specifically.
Back then, you were heavily bullied...and Rafe was the worst of them. He would tug your hair, pull your chair out before you could sit so you’d crash on the floor and call you mean names while other children cheered him on. It only stopped when you had a crying fit in front of him one day. The five year old was stumped. He spent the rest of the year apologizing and bringing a variety of gifts to you. You forgot about the mean things he did and said easily, won over by his determination to make you forgive him. A peculiar friendship blossomed from that. The two of you have been inseparable since then. 
Years flew by.
Then one day Rafe came back to school walking and talking differently. He had filled out during summer break. He was broader, taller, his towering frame even allowing him to reach above your locker. All the girls noticed, including you. You started developing a little crush on him. One he never acknowledged.
He had a girl on his arm at every party, often disappearing with them upstairs. It wasn’t hard to guess what he was up to with those girls. For many years, you daydreamed about what it’d be like to be one of those girls. The girl that caught Rafe Cameron’s eye at a party. The one that would have his full, undivided attention. The one he’d flash a flirtatious grin at and undress with his gaze the entire night.
You wanted to be that girl more than you wanted to breathe.
He never treated you that way though. The two of you hung out all the time. You would play video games, smoke weed, drink the expensive Kentucky Bourbon he stole from his dad’s cabinet and talk about everything and nothing. 
He would always joke that you were like a sister to him. And based on the amount of time you spent at the Camerons house, you might as well be a long lost relative.
Getting over Rafe Cameron had been tantamount to an exorcism. Loving him was so embedded into your flesh, tattooed onto your soul. It was all you knew. Rafe, Rafe, Rafe…
He was everything you longed for. Until he wasn’t. 
It happened one year when you attended the Camerons’ new year’s eve party. You entered the living room and caught him making out with a gorgeous brunette on the balcony. As your heart broke, again, realization slipped through the crack. Pining for someone who doesn’t see you, never saw you, will lead you nowhere. Your suffering was of your own making…and you wanted to suffer no longer. Why fantasize about something that will never come? You’d rather look to the future. 
So you chose to move on.
As fireworks set the night sky above Tannyhill aflame, the last embers of your longing for Rafe Cameron flickered out. 
It’s how you wound up giving dating apps a try. Talking to guys in real life is nerve-wracking but online, you find it much easier. While most conversations you had fizzled out quickly… Garrett has been different. He’s never tried to pretend with you and has been nothing but sweet and inquisitive about your hobbies, hopes and dreams. You’ve talked to him for hours on the phone and he’s made you laugh and smile a countless number of times. As for the icing on the cake…He’s been clear about wanting more than a hookup. He even suggested the two of you should meet up in person soon.
“What got you smiling like that anyway?” Rafe says, tossing the towel around his neck.
“Nothing,” you reply with a shrug.
“If it’s nothing, you can show me.”
He tries to swipe your phone but you’re faster. You rise from your chair and pick it up before he can take it.
His eyes narrow.
“I thought we had no secret for each other,” he says, an accusation laced in his tone. He’s never liked you keeping things from him, no matter how small or insignificant.
“We don’t.”
He gives a slow nod. Then he smiles. And you suppose it should have been your warning, that you should have seen it coming. But you don’t see anything coming. His hand shoots out and he shoves you aside. 
He plucks your phone from you like it’s nothing, using his height to keep it out of reach.
“Rafe! Give me my phone back,” you urge.
He makes no effort to abide by your request, glowering at the screen while scrolling.
“Who the hell is Garrett?”
“J-Just a guy I started talking to on this app...” Your voice dwindles as you cower under Rafe's hard gaze.
Disgust scrunches his handsome face.
“I thought you deleted those dating apps. We talked about this.”
You did talk about it. After a dispiriting streak of bad luck on these apps, he wheedled you to delete all of them. Rafe said all the guys on these apps wanted was to use you for a quick, meaningless fuck. That you were too gullible and would just be taken advantage of. He said that you deserved better and the right guy would come along eventually. You found yourself believing him. A lot of time, you ended up ghosted or the guys failed to show up anyways. It made you question what is so repulsive about you that made guys steer clear.
“I wanted to try again.”
“Well Garrett’s a douchebag name. I don’t like him for you.” He snickers. “Look at that. He’s playing you and his game isn’t even good. You’re really falling for this corny shit, princess?”
He starts reading some of the compliments Garrett paid you aloud, drawing a round of guffaws from Kelce and Topper. 
Your cheeks come ablaze.
“Now you’re just being mean,” you lament, using a lapse of distraction to retrieve your phone.
Gulping the tears threatening to spill, you rush back inside. Kelce’s taunting voice echoes behind you.
“Guess that one got past you, huh, Rafe?” 
“Shut your mouth, bro,” Rafe snaps angrily. 
You lean on the counter and gather your breath. The tears subside. You remind yourself that this is just how Rafe can be. Callous. Inconsiderate. 
It’s not who he really is. 
It’s just a bit hard to recall when he has those moments. Those aggressively insensitive moments. 
You open the fridge and grab a cool drink. Your throat is parched and you could use one.
When you pivot, you nearly spill the can.
Rafe’s towering frame impedes your path.
“You scared me, Rafe,” you say, unleashing a tremulous exhale.
He studies you, concern glimmering in his ocean gaze.
“I wasn’t trying to make you cry, I swear.” He shrugs and scratches the back of his neck. “I just meant he sounds like an asshole.”
“You’re an asshole,” you say, bumping into his arm as you sidle past him. 
His brows draw together. He isn’t used to you addressing him that way. With anything other than sweetness dripping from your tongue. 
You can tell he’s reeling at that alone. Getting the tiniest taste of his own medicine…from you of all people.
He approaches you as you swallow a sip of your drink. 
“Ouch. I’m just looking out for you, princess.” His fingers slot beneath your chin. “You know that’s all I ever try to do, right?”
He flashes you a charming smile. That smile you could never resist. It used to be your Achilles’ heel. Despite your changing feelings, Rafe still possesses the uncanny ability to make you forget why you were even mad at him in the first place. Like right now.
Your shoulders sag.
“I know.”
Blue eyes dive into yours. 
“I want to meet him.”
You retreat, your brows knitting. 
“Meet him, why?”
“I want to make sure he’s good enough for you.”
“I can decide that myself.”
He snorts, his focus darting away before returning to you.
“You’ve never known what’s good for you.” You flinch. “I can’t believe you didn’t even tell me you were talking to someone. I tell you everything. Shit, guess I’m an idiot, huh?” His jaw clenches. “...Cause I thought you did too.”
You inch closer to him and wrap your fingers around his forearm. 
“Rafe, I’m sorry, okay.” You gnaw on your bottom lip. “It’s just that…”
“Just that what?”
You pause, mulling over how to best word what you mean to say. 
Your voice comes out a bashful whisper, your eyes clinging to the floor. 
“Every time I’ve told you I liked a guy, it’s never worked out for some reason. It’s probably my fault but…I just didn’t want to jinx it this time.” You nervously swing your gaze back to him. “I figured if I keep it to myself I don’t have to get my hopes up.” You can’t quell the smile that fights its way onto your lips. “Garrett and I are just seeing where it goes right now. So…things are good.”
“Oh, it’s Garrett and I, now?” he sneers.
“Rafe, don’t be like this,” you beseech, squeezing his arm. “You’ll always be my best friend; you know that.” You shift in your spot, your tone pitching with hope as you ask, “Can’t you just be happy for me?”
He stares at you a long time, so long that his eyes on you grow unnerving. After a while, he releases a deep exhale. 
Ignoring your question, he steps back from you.
“I’m gonna go take a shower,” he announces. 
“Rafe?”
You never get a response, his form vanishing down the hallway. A sigh ripples through your lips as you lean against the counter. Why is he being so difficult about this? It’s not like you’re not seeing him with a new girl every other week. You never batted an eyelash. You even encouraged him to seriously date some of them, the ones who seemed to sincerely like him and reminded you of yourself back in the day. 
You’ve always cheered him on no matter what. So it baffles you that he can’t return the favor. Crushes you even.
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For the rest of the week, you don’t hear much from Rafe. He pretty much ignores you and even leaves you on read after you send him a string of pleading messages, which is your cue that you wounded his feelings somehow. You surmise Rafe isn’t used to your attention veering towards someone else. Perhaps he’s miffed at the prospect that getting a boyfriend means you won’t hang out as much anymore, that he’ll have to share you. Your friendship’s been a fixture in both of your lives for so many years. The one unwavering, steadfast foundation nothing could topple. Whatever occured in his life or yours, you’ve always had each other.
Change can be scary. 
But you don’t plan on neglecting the bond you have with Rafe just because you’re dating someone. He’ll always be in your life. He’ll always matter to you. It's what you meant to tell him. What you would tell him if only he bothered replying to your texts or answering your calls. 
Rafe has always teased you for bartending at the Island Club. In his eyes, you’re much too Kook for what he calls a ‘Pogue job’. But you enjoy it. There is a certain comfort in having things you earned through your own hard work and not your parents’ money.
…Though you can’t deny you might not have landed this position if not for your dad’s close friendship with the owner of the private club. You’re also painfully aware you don’t get yelled at or scolded for making mistakes as much as other employees. 
And on days like today, after you end your shift, Rafe has never failed to pick you up in his Jeep. 
He’s never missed a day. Which is why you wear a dumbfounded expression as you note the glaring absence of the familiar black car in front of the country club. It takes you a while to accept and realize the cold, hard truth. Rafe isn’t coming to pick you up today. 
It’s not the end of the world, of course. But it still makes your heart ache that he’d ditch like that without so much as an apology or heads-up. You feel kicked in the gut. 
You try to call him but it goes straight to voicemail. Resigned, you resort to calling for back-up. 
Sarah shows up in her truck with a bright smile. 
“Get in loser, we’re going shopping,” she quips, winking at you.
You climb inside the passenger seat. 
“Thanks for coming, S.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Since the oldest of the Camerons is currently denying your very existence, you figured you might as well call the Kook Princess herself to the rescue. His sister, Sarah Cameron. 
“I brought snacks so I better get a five-star review,” she jests, wiggling her eyebrows. She tosses you a bag of M&M’s that you gleefully tear open. “Doesn’t Rafe usually pick you up after work?”
The sugar melting on your tongue sweetens the bitter taste of abandonment.
“Well, he’s sulking, so…” you mumble around a mouthful of candy.
“Sulking?” Shock colors her tone. “I don’t think there’s anything you could do to make my brother mad. You’re like the only person he’s not a complete jerk around.”
“Well, he was one last time we talked.”
Sarah arches a puzzled brow.
You sigh and explain, “I started dating someone…Actually, we’re still at the talking stage, but…I didn’t tell him.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“Nothing. Forget I said anything,” she dismisses cryptically.
Her peculiar tone peeves you.
“I’m not gonna forget, Sarah.”
Her shoulders rise and fall.
“It’s not my place to say. It’s between you and Rafe.” She throws you a cautious glance, marking a brief pause before inquiring, “You’re not still in love with my brother, are you?”
Heat creeps inside your cheeks.
“I was n-never in love with Rafe,” you stammer. Inwards, you’re screaming. Was it that obvious at the time?
Sarah’s plump lips quirk in a lopsided smile.
“Sure.” 
Gratitude fills you. You’d rather leave this can of worms permanently closed. Lid tightly sealed and all. And the can tossed at the bottom of a lake. It’s embarrassing enough that you mooned over Rafe for as long as you did.
At least you find comfort in the fact that you’re over him now.
“You mind if we stop for ice cream on the way?” Sarah asks, adjusting her rearview mirror.
“No. I could go for one myself. This heat is killing me.”
“Cool.”
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For the rest of the week, Rafe continues to dole out the silent treatment. You allow his childish antics to chafe you to a point. Then you elect to not let it bother you anymore. He can throw a tantrum if he wishes. You’ve done nothing wrong and you’re growing weary of being treated like you have. 
For over fifteen years, you’ve been a great friend to Rafe, listening to him rant whenever he needed an ear, making time for him whenever he requested it. The fact he’s being a dick right now is staggering. 
He frankly has no right.
After everything the two of you have been through, you hoped for more from him. While you’re aware he can be a jackass, you thought it was different when it came to you. That you were different. You suppose you were wrong. 
Friday comes around and with it arrives the excitement of the plans you have for the night. Garrett asked you out on a date at a fancy seafood restaurant. It’ll be your first time meeting him in person. You’ve been looking forward to it the entire week.
As you’re putting the final touches to your makeup in front of the vanity mirror, your phone flashes with a request for a facetime call. 
You swipe towards the green icon to accept the call. 
Rafe’s face fills your screen. 
“Hey, princess. I thought we could talk-”
“I’m kind of busy right now. Rain check tomorrow?” 
“Busy doing what?” He squints, seeming to register your attire. A brand new sundress you purchased with your tips from the Island Club. You paired it with wedge heels. You also switched your hairstyle to something more sophisticated for the night. “W-What the hell are you wearing? Where are you even going dressed like that?”
You heave out a deep sigh.
“Good night, Rafe.”
You tap the screen to end the call.
A rush of power floods your insides. You hung up on him. This is your first time doing that, hanging up on Rafe Cameron himself. 
Still, a sliver of guilt lingers alongside your pride. You quell it swiftly. You can’t be at his beck and call your entire life. Tonight’s about you. For once, you’d like to put your needs before Rafe’s.
Garrett comes to your house some time later. He has flowers in his arms. You soak in their scent for a few minutes. No one’s ever given you flowers before. It makes you feel special.
As he opens the door of his truck for you, he whistles in admiration.
“Wow,” he says, his gaze dragging over your frame.
Your skin warms at the attention, the kind you aren’t used to receiving. 
Fiddling with the flowy sleeve of your sundress, you inquire, “Am I what you expected?”
A besotted smile spreads on his lips.
“You’re even more beautiful in person.”
“Thank you.” 
You peer at him. His pictures don’t do him justice.
“You look very handsome. I like your shirt.”
His cheeks redden at your praise. 
You get inside his car. The two of you exchange casual chatter on the way to the restaurant. You’re amazed at how easy talking to him is. You’re a little shy but his clear interest in you helps you slowly climb out of your shell. 
Once you arrive at the restaurant, you’re escorted to your table. The light conversation resumes its flow, the two of you growing even more comfortable with each other. You like how intently he listens to you, even if his intense eye contact makes you wrestle the urge to look away. You nibble your lip as you peruse the menu. Mirth sways in Garett’s brown orbs when your stomach growls. You mumble an apology under your breath and he beams at you. You’ve been so anxious about the date for the whole day, you’ve forgotten to eat. 
A familiar voice erupts from behind you. 
“Well, look who it is. What a coincidence.”
You whirl, a gasp bursting from your throat.
“Rafe? What are you doing here?”
He stands besides you and Garrett’s table, his arm slung around a gorgeous redhead’s shoulders. It occurs to you haven’t seen him with that one before. Though you reckon Rafe rarely does repeat encounters. 
What shocks you more however is his very presence here. Of all places, Rafe and the girl he’s with could have been tonight, it has to be the exact same location of your first date with Garrett. 
What are the odds? 
However, you recall that with the assistance of the friend-finding app both you and Rafe have on your phones in case of emergencies, figuring out your whereabouts would be about the easiest thing.
Would Rafe go that far just because you wouldn’t yield to his whims one time? Would he truly be that selfish?
The shit-eating grin unfurling on his face answers all your questions.
“Well, I heard this was a good spot so I thought…” Rafe’s brows furrow as he waves his hand before the girl’s face, appearing to struggle remembering her name. 
“Jessica,” she finishes for him, disappointment decorating her pretty features.
He beams at her.
“Right. I thought that Jessica and I could check it out.”
He plops down next to you, forcing you to make space for him on the upholstered booth seat. Meanwhile his date sits next to Garrett. 
“You mind, princess?”
Awkwardness fills the air. The heavy tension sits on your throat as Rafe makes himself more comfortable, going as far as spreading his legs.
You scold him with your gaze, all but spelling out ‘Yes, I do mind indeed’.
You clear your throat and shift your stance, resenting how every tiny motion has your thigh grazing against his.
“Actually I…We’re kind of on a date, Rafe.”
He places his arm on the wooden edge above your head, his smile expanding.
“So are we. So why not double date?”
“I don’t mind,” Garrett offers as he takes in your concerned expression. “You two…know each other, right?”
You open your mouth to speak but before words can pour from it, Rafe wraps his arm around you.
“Best friends. She and I go way back. Isn’t that right, princess?”
His intense blue eyes settle on you. You swallow the lump in your throat. Anger can’t begin to describe how upset you are with Rafe right now for crashing your date, but you also don’t want to cause a scene, make things even worse than they already are. 
So you force a smile on your lips and nod.
“Y-Yeah, we do.”
Throughout the night, Rafe’s presence causes the date’s slow descent into a nightmare. Every time Garrett tries to strike up a conversation with you, Rafe interjects, his comments toeing the line between innocently inconsiderate and outright rude. He never lets the two of you have a moment, interrupting whenever Garrett looks at you for more than half a second. You grow weary of his antics. So does Rafe’s date. You can see the pretty redhead in front of him growing frustrated as he treats her as if she were a potted plant.
She ends up leaving the table to go to the bathroom but never returns. It doesn’t shock you. If someone inflicted upon you what Rafe has to the poor girl the entire night, you might take your leave as well.
By the time dessert comes, you’re on the cusp of tears. This is not how you envisioned your night going. 
The awfulness doesn’t stop there.
When it’s time to part ways, Garrett finds his truck in an unfortunate state. 
He curses under his breath as he hunkers down in front of his car. 
“Some punk sliced my tires.”
In the back, Rafe shakes his head.
“Damn, tough luck. Guess I’ll have to drive you home, princess.”
You scowl at Rafe before placing a hand on Garrett’s arm. He’s already on his phone to contact someone to help move his truck.
“I could wait with you,” you say softly. 
“It’s fine,” he replies. “Just go home. We’ll text, okay?”
Your tone turns contrite. “Okay. I’m so sorry… about everything.”
“Don’t worry about it. I still had a good time.”
“Me too.”
Despite his assurance, you aren’t too hopeful he’ll want to see you again. You know this wasn’t what he had in mind for the night. And neither did you. 
You reluctantly trail behind Rafe, looking daggers at him when he opens the door of his black Volvo for you. 
Not an ounce of guilt lurks on his handsome face, which tosses more fuel on the flames of your ire. 
You don’t utter a word, almost too angry to speak. The last shred of your patience fizzled out in the restaurant, as your so-called best friend basked in your misery, getting a kick out of making a mockery of your night.
If you talk, it won’t be to have a calm, level-headed conversation with Rafe. It’ll be to spew venom at him.
As he parks into the driveway of your house, he lets go of the steering wheel and says, “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”
You draw a long, slow breath.
“You think?” you snap icily. You jump out of the truck and slam the door closed.
Rafe follows you to your doorstep. You fumble with the lock. Your fingers quiver so much, you can’t even open the door. After a few unsuccessful tries jamming the keys inside the lock, Rafe takes them from you. He opens the door and you stomp inside. 
You toss your clutch on a nearby table and whirl. 
“What the hell, Rafe?” you shout. “You embarrassed me!”
His shoulders lift and slump.
“Well, you shouldn’t have been there to begin with.”
Disbelief rounds your gaze. “What?”
“You heard me. You shouldn’t have been on a date with him.”
Folding your arms, you scoff, “Right. Why is that?”
Rafe inches closer to you, his eyes locking with yours.
“Because you should have been on a date with me instead.”
A weary exhale drops from your chest. Rafe’s declared many things while hammered but this one takes the cake.
“I think you’re drunk,” you dismiss. “You need to go home, Rafe.”
Rafe’s jaw ticks.
“My mind is perfectly clear, okay? If you’ll just listen to me-”
“Go home, Rafe.”
You nearly turn your back on him but Rafe’s sturdy hand fastens around your arm, yanking you back.
He takes a long pause, drinking you in.
Rafe takes a deep breath before confessing, “I love you. I’ve always loved you.” His throat bobs as he adds, “And I know you love me too.”
Your mouth tumbles open, shock snatching the very air from your lungs. You stare at Rafe. Perhaps you heard him wrong. In your wrath, his words may have landed in your ears a little warped.
But as you get lost in his sea gaze, the truth sinks into you. He is serious. Very serious.
A war of conflicting emotions breaks out inside you. For years, you longed to hear those words. But not like this. And the insinuation that he knew how you felt…That he let you suffer in silence while gallivanting around with those girls.
A fast surge of tears blurs your gaze.
“You knew?”
He cradles your face.
“I’ve always known.”
A shudder wracks through your frame.
“So w-why did you never say anything?”
“I figured you’d wait for me, that I could just have some fun. That it wasn’t a big deal.”
Ice fills your blood. Your tone becomes clipped, detached.
“I want you to leave.”
His hold on you doesn’t loosen, his cheek pulsing in frustration.
“Really? I tell you I love you after all this time and this is your response?”
“I haven’t had those feelings for you in years, Rafe. And right now…I don’t even like you as a person.” Rafe bristles at your blunt words, looking like you slapped him. Your mouth wobbles as you say, “You’re not who I thought you were. I want you out of my house and out of my life.”
Something shifts in his blue eyes. The air around you drops a few degrees as he pushes you further inside the room. Desperation lurks in his deep timbre.
“Come on, we can talk about this, princess.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Dread escalates within you when he doesn’t move. You’re hit with the daunting realization that you’re alone with Rafe, your parents away on a trip right now. Usually being alone with him wouldn’t have fazed you, may have ensconced you in a sense of security and comfort even. Not tonight. Tonight, you don’t recognize the Rafe standing in front of you. Your voice trickles out small and shaky. “R-Rafe, get out, I’m serious.”
His expression hardens. He shoves you into a nearby wall. You gasp as pain prickles along your back.
“Just admit that you love me too,” he roars. 
“I don’t,” you whimper as water brims under your lashes.
This propels him to the brink. There’s no time to process anything, Rafe hoisting you with ease. As he takes long, determined strides to your bedroom, your fear grows. He hurls your body into the bed. He fiddles with the buttons of his khaki pants until they come loose. A scream builds inside your throat, refusing to break past your lips as you linger in bewilderment. Rafe isn’t doing what you think he’s doing…what he’s preparing to do. There's no way. He wouldn’t.
Stupor girdles your motions. For a while, you gape at Rafe. As he approaches the bed, adrenaline rushes through you. You remember how to move.
But it’s for naught. Rafe is quicker than you, catching you when you rise and slamming you back on the sheets. He crawls over you. His blue gaze glimmers strangely in the darkness. Streaks of moonlight pour between your half-draw curtains, casting ominous shadows over his broad frame.
He cages you beneath him, shushing you as you croak out pleas for him to stop.
“I know you’re lying,” he rasps, scattering sloppy kisses alongside your neck.
He yanks down your dress and your breath hitches. 
“I’m not. I don’t-” Words wither on your tongue as he flicks his thumb over your nipple, his other hand patting underneath your dress. “I-I don’t love you anymore, Rafe.”
“I don’t believe you.”
His fist curls around the vee part of your thin lace panties, tugging roughly enough to tear the delicate material. You squeal as the lace dents your flesh when it rips.
Your heart bounces. You push against Rafe’s chest with newfound urgency.
“Rafe, stop.”
He snatches both of your wrists and traps them above your head. Helplessness chokes your airways as he pokes lightly at your entrance. He slides one finger between your walls and you keen, breath faltering at the abrupt intrusion. His lewd gaze remains trained on you as you squirm beneath him.
“Why do you keep lying, huh?” he accuses, forcing a moan from your throat when he curls his digit inside you. When your eyes squeeze shut in denial, he lets go of your wrist to frame your jaw.
A sob spills from your throat, your eyes flying open.
“Nah…I want you to look at me, princess,” he orders, jerking your head up so your gazes lock. You choke on your breath when he shoves a second finger inside you. He slowly drags his fingers in and out of you. Heat gathers in your core. You writhe against the sheets, resisting the urge to buck your hips to seek more of the friction. He grazes a uniquely sensitive spot and your lids quake, a soft whimper flying from your mouth. You clench around Rafe’s fingers and he unleashes a sigh of pleasure as you grip him. You feel him harden against you. Your stomach knots at the pressure. His eyes are glued to you, soaking every minute shift of expression while he pumps his fingers inside you. 
“I know you never stopped loving me,” he whispers, the alcohol on his breath seeping through your senses. “Think I don’t see the way you look at me?”
As you near your undoing, he removes his fingers. You sag against the sheets. The sudden emptiness leaves you with a mix of emotions you’re too ashamed to admit.
He presses his thick tip against your dripping entrance, gathering your arousal when he runs it along your folds. He pushes in slowly, his eyes rolling back at the sensation of your velvety warmth welcoming him. You tense at the intrusion. Your fingers curl into the sheets. Rafe’s broad frame covers yours, his forehead resting against yours as he whispers, “Say you love me.”
When you don’t reply, he slams his cock inside you in one swift stroke. Your back curves, a quiet scream ripping from your throat. Your chest lifts and falls rapidly as Rafe’s thick girth fills you up completely. 
He begins moving inside you, his pace relentless and unforgiving. While his length is splitting you apart, it’s hard to deny the warm tingles pulsing through your core, joining the pain in devious harmony. 
You go limp on the bed, his thick cock stretching you more than ever before. Every time he grazes your sweet spots, you spiral further down, your thoughts melting in the flames consuming your body.
“Say it,” he grunts, his warm breath fanning over your face. 
His bulging muscles coil beneath his clothes from the force he exerts to shove all of himself inside you. Heavy breaths drop from Rafe’s chest as your walls squeeze around him. Drenched locks of his dirty blond hair cling to his forehead, beads of sweat collecting between his furrowed brows and dripping to your parted lips. 
When you remain silent, Rafe’s large hand wraps around your throat, his tone more firm and menacing than before as he snarls, “Say that you love me, princess.”
His fingers crush your windpipe until you give in.
You can barely eke the words out, every harsh snap of Rafe’s hips into yours filling your vision with stars.
“I l-love you, Rafe.” 
The words ache as they part from your throat. A bitter truth you buried long ago, beneath thick layers of heartbreak and denial. One you hoped would never crawl its way back to the surface. One that hurts even more now, shatters you as it leaves your lips. Because you can’t tell if Rafe forced it out of you or if it was there all along. Perhaps it never left you. Perhaps, even after all your attempts to purge Rafe Cameron from your flesh and soul, even after he’s done the unthinkable to you…Part of you may still love Rafe, may always love Rafe.
As you grow overwhelmed with warring emotions, his cock still viciously ramming into you, you don’t know who you hate more. Him. Or yourself.
Salty streams spill down your cheeks. 
Rafe kisses them away, gently cupping your cheek while thrusting roughly into your cunt. His other hand explores your curves, clutching your flesh possessively. You can already feel bruises forming beneath his rough, insatiable touch. His eyes find yours, a possessive glint swaying in his intense blue gaze.
“Of course you do.” His lips stretch in a smug smile. “You’ve always been mine, princess, you just didn’t know it yet.”
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afterglowsainz · 3 days
Text
fresh out the slammer | max verstappen
summary: after you broke up with your boyfriend, you join your friends for a night out in monaco and decide it's a good idea to invite max
warnings: fluff, mentions of breakups, drinking
word count: 1.8k
a/n: giggling and kicking my feet at the thought of a situationship with max
the tortured athletes department series
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it’s been one month since you and your ex-boyfriend of one year broke up. you couldn’t say you were heartbroken because you really weren’t, like most men do at some points in their lives, he was disappointing you long before you broke up with him, so in a way, you mourn your relationship while you were still in it. now you just felt a bit lonelier than before, but you had definitely moved on.
on a saturday night, you had a few friends over to your monaco apartment for dinner and a very well deserved gossip session. you told them all about your breakup with your most recent boyfriend and how you were feeling almost too good.
“guys, what if we go out?” one of your best friends suggests. “a friend of mine is having a party at this club downtown and is supposed to be this very exclusive thing.” you thought about it for a few seconds after agreeing. it has been a while since you went out with your friends, especially in monaco where everything can happen. you got ready in less than ten minutes since you already were put together and joined your friends in the car on your way to the club. 
during the quick ride you check your instagram and saw that your friend max posted a story. you and max have had this weird relationship for years, were you’re both really close friends who’ve also liked each other forever, but none of you had actually made a move on each other (except for that one time, but you’ve never talked about it). you clicked on his profile picture and the story popped up, a picture of him and his friends playing fifa on his couch. you smiled and liked the photo, putting your phone away.
once you got to the club your friend led you all to the entrance and when she gave her name to the bouncer they let you all in. the place was completely packed, but she took you all to a place on the top that was a bit less full and looked more like that exclusive event your friend was talking about. soon enough, alcohol was running through your system and your body was moving along with the blasting music at the club when a thought almost made you stop on your tracks. you looked for your best friend all over the place and ran over to her when you saw her near the bar.
“hey.” you call out loudly over the music.
“hey.” she smiled at you. “having fun?” she asks and you nod.
“can i tell you this idea i just had?” she takes a sip from her drink and nods. “would it be a good idea if i invited max?” her eyes widen with surprise and gives you a knowing smile.
“max like max verstappen?” she asks. “like your max?” you nod again, this time more euphorically.
“yes, my max.” you took a sip of your drink and cleared your throat. “he’s in monaco, so why not? the worst that can happen is he says no.” you shrug, like the idea of him not wanting to see you didn’t kill you a bit inside.
“go for it!” she exclaims. “absolutely, yes, invite him over.”
you smiled and headed over to the balcony, relieved to feel the cold air of the monaco night hit your skin, cooling you down. you took out your phone and hover over max’s contact for a moment, wondering if you should text or call first. you decided to call since that would be much more immediate. you listen to the phone ringing for a few moments and when you thought it would send you to voicemail, you heard max’s familiar voice.
“hello.” he answers.
“heyyy.” you greet him with a smile that he couldn’t see.
“y/n.” he calls your name with happiness. “how are you?”
“i’m good, how are you?” you ask. “what are you up to?”
“oh, i’m good, yeah.” he says. “just hanging out with some friends. you?”
“i’m in monaco.” you say looking at the stars. “actually, i’m at this club, i was wondering if you wanted to come? you can bring your friends, my friends are here too.”
you waited for him to answer so long you thought the line had dropped.
“what club are you in?” you gave him the name and heard some loud voices in the background. “okay, we’ll be there in twenty.”
you smiled at the sky and bit your lip.
“okay.” you answered and finished the call.
when you got back inside you met your friends again and let them know that max was coming with his friends. twenty minutes later, you were still dancing in the middle of the place when someone tapped your shoulder with tenderness. when you turned around you saw those blue eyes that you loved staring back at you.
“hello, you.” you smiled at him and he returned it.
“long time no see.” he said, giving you a small kiss on the cheek. you felt yourself flustered and were grateful that the place was mostly dark with a few colored lights.
“you should’ve told me when you got here, i would’ve gone outside to get you.” you frowned, ignoring the blush on your face.
“i wanted it to be a surprise.” he defends himself. 
“it can’t be a surprise if i invited you.” you fought back and he placed his arm around your shoulders.
“you know what i mean.” he clicked his tongue, teasing you.
you spent the next hour dancing, drinking and talking with max. it was like the world around you had disappeared and it was only the two of you left in that club. when you took a quick break from dancing he got close to you and whispered in your ear.
“do you want to go outside?” he asks. you felt yourself blush again but nodded.
he was about to guide you to the balcony but you redirected him to the exit of the club. you stopped briefly to let your friend know that you were leaving with max for a moment so she wouldn’t worry and she just winked at you. you took his hand so you wouldn’t lose him while walking through all the people at the club and once you were outside you dropped his hand, even though you didn’t really wanted to, but the last thing you wanted was to make it uncomfortable for him.
“you wanna take a walk?” he asks while taking his jacket and putting it around your shoulders.
you nod and smile at him, grateful for his jacket. you both start walking along the streets, talking about nothing in particular until he makes the question you knew he wanted to ask all night.
“how’s it going with your boyfriend?” he doesn’t look at you while asking, no matter how much you wanted him to do so.
“we broke up.” you answer dryly.
“oh.” he finally looks at your face for any hint of sadness, but there is none. you’re not sad about it.
“how’s it going with your girlfriend?” you ask now, remembering the gorgeous redhead he was dating a few months ago.
it was on one of those few occasions both of you were in monaco at the same time. you were leaving from café de paris with your best friend and you crossed him at the entrance, next to him was one of the most beautiful girls you’ve ever seen, holding his hand. you remembered she introduced herself as his girlfriend and your heart skipped a beat at the word, even though you had no right to feel anything like that since you had a boyfriend yourself. you said your goodbyes and he did too and that was the last time you saw him.
“what was her name again?” you asked. “i can’t remember.”
“we broke up.” max ignored your last question, answering the first one you asked instead.
“oh.” you frowned, sad for him for whatever reason. maybe it was the alcohol in you bringing out all the emotions. “what happened?”
“it just didn’t work out.” he answers simply, giving you a reassuring smile.
“when did you break up?” you knew you were a bit out of line meddling into his relationship. especially when he didn’t ask you these types of questions about your own breakup, but you couldn’t help it.
“a few months ago.” he said, completely unfazed by your curiosity. “actually, it was the day you met her.”
“at the café de paris?” you questioned with surprise and he nodded. “why would you break up with your girlfriend there? it’s such a lovely place.”
he wanted to laugh at your remark, but bit his lip instead.
“i saw you.” he whispered and you felt like all the air was leaving your lungs.
“you broke up with your girlfriend because you saw me?” you ask incredulously and he nods again. “why would you do that?”
“why do you think, y/n?”
he holds your eyes for a few seconds until you turn your head and continue walking. you didn’t answer him and he didn’t say anything else, his words hanging in the air while you got wrapped into a comfortable silence. you were trying to process his train of thought while also processing yours. could his words have such an impact on you? did he feel about you the same way you’ve always felt about him? would he want to try something with you? with each question you asked in your head, you felt yourself leaning more and more into max until the back of your hands brushed each other while walking. he felt so familiar in so many ways.
before you could realize it, you were both outside of your apartment building. did you really walk this much?
“well.” he said, breaking the silence. “i guess this is where i leave you.” he pointed with his chin at the building.
you looked at him for a few seconds, your mind racing ten thousand miles per hour.
“you could stay.” you whisper.
max looked at you, a sparkle in his eyes you knew too well.
“you’re drunk.” he murmured, just like you had. you shook your head and got closer to him, touching the collar of his shirt gently.
“just as much as you.” you were so close you could see every speck of color in his eyes. “i think the walk here sober me up, anyway.” you joke, taking your eyes off of him, fearing that looking at him a second longer would make you do something unexpected.
“are you sure about this?” he took your face between his hands, forcing you to look at him. the beautiful blue of his eyes was now much darker and you fell a little bit more in love just by looking at them.
“of course i’m sure.” your voice low, only for him to hear. “i’ve always been.”
his eyes went from your eyes to your lips, and then back into your eyes.
“come inside.” you ask.
he smiles at you like he just won a championship, taking your hand and pulling you into the building.
492 notes · View notes
inblurtub · 2 days
Text
lovingly siesta | a smau | part 1
pairing(s): youngest sister leclerc!reader x lando norris, youngest sister leclerc!reader x f1 grid (platonic).
warnings: no face claim, age gap (25-18), protective charles leclerc, ooc
might be a multi-parts series
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc and 17.359 others
yourusername it’s outfit check week🤭
view all 1.001 comments
user1 y/n literally living our ferrari girlies dream life
user2 superb with that first outfit, its giving girl boss energy sis😋 keep going
user5 GIRL YOU WERE IN QUEENSLAND I WENT TO QUEENSLAND TOO😭😭😭
charles_leclerc ma pricesse maman’s gunna be mad if she sees the last 3 pics
yourusername keep it a secret from her then arthur_leclerc no i’m going to snitch u up, be prepared yourusername 😵‍💫 you childish sappy kid arthur
charles_leclerc but i love that you wear my hat
user4 charlie are you in search of a brother in law i would love to apply
user3 damn sometimes i forget she’s actually 18 now😭 time flies so fast, i feel like i’ve known her since forever
landonorris very pretty sis
yourusername thanks lan ur so sweet! yourusername @charles_leclerc @arthur_leclerc see! that’s how you guys should react to my pics charles_leclerc no lando that is weird why are you even here🤨??
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 20.284 others
yourusername once a ferrari girl, always a ferrari girl. very much proud of my two brothers especially the appendix-less one✨
view all 3.935 comments
charles_leclerc …ok fine i’ll pick you up to party tonight, go get ready (but no drinks)
yourusername done deal 🫶🏻 you know you are my favorite siblings sharl arthur_leclerc what? lorenzotl she said it to everyone yourusername oof
carlossainz55 🗣️ me the smooth operator
yourusername yes you the smooth operator!!!
user7 at this point anyone could see lando staring down (much to my delusion) at y/n
user8 YES SIS i know that couldnt be only me that are delusional 😭
scuderiaferrari will we see you at our next race ms. ferrari😉?
yourusername yes absolutely spare me a seat at my bro’s garage!
you’ve got a text from @lando.not.real
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yourusername has posted on her story
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↳ charles_leclerc you left without me knowing?
yourusername don’t worry:) i got my friend’s accompany me, i am safe sharl charles_leclerc better tell me next time charles_leclerc wait wdym friend? who is ur friend when you go with ME to a ferrari’s party???
↳ lando.no.real can be ur cameraman for good🫢
yourusername is there a price for that? lando.no.real i’m exclusively free for you
558 notes · View notes
caxde · 2 days
Text
lovingsomeone | steddie x reader
summary: Eddie's got a crush on you, Steve's got a crush on you, and you're not sure who you like. A school dance and a summer party help you figure things out. (9.3k)(srry i got carried away)
warnings: smut! 18+ mdni use of alcohol and weed, afab reader, p in v sex, masturbation, oral sex and overall teenage horniness. Steve being overconfident and Eddie being a nervous wreck.
a/n: I did a first part to it answering a request and kept writing, so i put it all together! enjoy<3 english is not my first language!
“So, will you actually say something to her this time?” Robin teased Eddie for the hundredth time. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snapped back, shaking his head as he overly enunciated every word, trying desperately to not blush at the thought of you. 
“Sure you don’t.” She breathed out, pushing her head back. 
Robin had always been preceptive, even more so when it came to her best friends. Maybe that’s why Robin had no problem when it came time to figure out what was going on. 
She was the first -and maybe only one- to catch Eddie’s lips opening, the clenched fists, the way he always tried to make you laugh or how he looked fastly over at you everytime something funny happened, just so he could see you smile. 
It wasn’t long after when she clocked Steve doing something similar. Steve would always fix his hair before talking to you, he took a step closer than he had to when he was talking to you, his hand lingered when he passed something to you. Most importantly, Steve was a big flirt, and Robin could tell it was working. 
She still was unsure about you. 
She had caught you looking at Eddie when he was deep into a story, your eyelids half closed, as if you were daydreaming about him, and she was sure she had seen you bite your lower lip after looking at his neck. 
But today you had called Steve an idiot with a dumb smile, a playful touch to his chest that had left your cheeks with a pinkish hue, only made worse when Steve grabbed your hand so he could make you twirl to the sound of the music emanating from his car before he left when he dropped you both off. 
Robin was now sitting outside the car park, with an Eddie who was lost into you. 
Eddie couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, and the way your hair moved as you walked closer to them. 
“You’re doing okay?” She asked with an eyebrow raised, as she schotched over so you’d sit next to her as you always did. 
Eddie didn’t even look up, he just grabbed the chocolate bar he had in his pocket, for exactly that reason, handing it over to you. 
“You don’t have to.” Your voice came out all shy, a soft smile as you looked at the colorufull wrapper that laid right in his hands. 
“I know.” Eddie muttered, nodding his head at you, the usual grin he had only for you appearing on his face. 
“Thanks Eds.” You managed to say, grabbing it and biting it. 
Robin rolled her eyes as soon as she saw Eddie focusing on the way your lips opened, stifling a laugh as she shook her head. Both of you are oblivious to the way the other feels.
“Are we still going to the dance tonight?” You asked, breaking the small moment of silence that had formed. 
“Is it tonight?” Eddie asked, his usual teasing tone in his voice every time this topic came up. 
“Yes…” You squinted your eyes at him, knowing he’d smile as soon as he saw you. 
“Yeah, we’ll be here.” Robin confirmed, standing up from the little curbside she had settled into. “Can you give me a ride, Eds?” She asked, tussing her hair in the middle of the question. 
“Uh, sure. D’you need a ride, dove?” Eddie was embarrassed as soon as he muttered the nickname he tried, recomforted by the way you seemed to be pleased by it. 
“I think Steve’s picking me up.” You felt a bit guilty saying it, made worse by Eddie pressing his lips together, followed by a short nod as he went to find his van. 
“Okay, what’s the deal?” Robin had had enough of playing detective. She needed to know what was going through your mind. 
“What do you mean?” You scrunch your nose, not really wanting to know if she was asking what you thought she meant. 
“Oh come on! Eddie’s got a crush on you, Steve has a crush on you, you..?” She left the question open, wanting you to finish it with an answer, instead you got all flustered, standing up straight in a fast motion, trying to make sense of what she had just said. 
“Eddie doesn’t have a crush on me! Neither does Steve, he’s just being nice… And I just, they’re both…” 
“Hot?” 
“Shut up…” You punched her on her shoulder, a giggle escaping both of your lips. “They both treat me so well, and they’re kind and yeah… they’re hot.” 
Robin couldn’t help but laugh, and neither could you, it only made it worse when Robin suggested that if you played your cards right, you might see Paris. 
It continued until Steve’s car stopped next to you. 
Steve stepped out, fixing his hair in a movement that made you wish you could be the one fixing it. His other hand held a small gathering of wild flowers, with pink carnations sticking out of them. Robin's mouth opened wide, as she saw how Steve moved closer to you, looking nervous. 
“Hi.” You chirped, as soon as he stood right in front of you, his feet almost touching yours. 
“Hi.” He stuttered a bit, his nervous energy made evident. He gave a quick glance at Robin, who just nodded, stepping back a bit. “I uh… I know this might be cheesy but, these are for you–” He stopped talking when your fingers brushed his, the same feeling he always had invading your body. An electricity, a warmness that was hard to explain. 
“They are lovely… Why…?” The sweetest tone that could be heard as a melody came out of your lips, and Steve could live in it for an eternity. 
“I… I kinnda wanna take you to the dance, if you’re okay with it.” He begged, a faint trace on it on his tone, as he stepped a bit closer, your feet between his opened legs. His eyes locked into yours, you were a goner as soon as you looked at him and the way his lips curved a bit more on the right than they did on the left. 
“Like a date?” You echoed, a glimpse of hope evident enough that his teeth were now showing when he smiled as he nodded. “I’d love to.” 
Steve caressed your cheek as he reached to hold your hand, walking you to his car as he opened the door for you, he was still going to drive you home. 
Unlucky for Eddie, he had seen the whole thing, and Robin said nothing, just waited for him to start the car. 
-
You and Robin were supposed to get picked up by Steve, who was supposed to pick Eddie up. 
It did happen, only that the tension in the car between both boys could be felt, even from outside and with the windows rolled up. 
No music was playing on the radio, Steve was grabbing the steering wheel a bit harder than he needed to -his knuckles turning white- whilst Eddie kept playing with his index finger, one swipe left, two swipes right. 
Eddie wanted to talk, to ask Steve is he was serious about it, but the smell of aftershave was intoxicating enough to confirm he was. 
As soon as the car stopped, Eddie looked at the wooden doors of Robin’s house, and the way Steve walked them up with such confidence -even if he was just faking it, he was nervous about it all going well, so much so he hadn’t even realised he drove over with no music on- he left a knock on the door, for it to open shortly after. 
You were truly breathtaking. 
Red had never looked that good. The dress hugged your chest, a flowy skirt dropping from your waist, your arms decorated with the same red colour as what looked like a scarf fell from them. Your hair was out of your face, your eyes shined a bit more, your lips looked pinker, juicier. He was losing his mind. 
It only hurt a bit more when he realised he had his hand out, waiting for yours to fit in it, but you moved past him, accepting Steve’s instead, as he twirled you around, praising you, telling you just how good you looked. A shower of compliments Eddie was also thinking, but couldn’t articulate. He just stared at the floor, only looking up when he felt Robin’s touch on his shoulder, a look of compassion held between the both of them. 
Nobody would blame you, or the hyperfixation you had all of a sudden with the way Steve’s neck looked, the red tie wrapping around it, contrasting with the white shirt. What was worse, you had never realised just how many moles and freckles Steve’s skin had, the one that laid where his jaw met his neck was particularly driving you insane. You danced the night away, mostly it was the four of you in a little circle, chatting and drinking whatever was inside the punch. Steve’s hands only found your waist when a slow song played. His thumbs grabbed you a bit too hard, in a way that he knew immediately why you bit your lower lip, and in response your hands were behind his neck, your nails tracing a patron in his skin, tugging his hair slightly. He grinned, chuckled and made you laugh, his eyes shining, looking at yours. You had never seen such beauty in brown until now. 
Maybe you did like Steve, and maybe he did like you. 
Eddie went outside. As soon as he saw you biting your lip, his hands on your waist, yours in his hair, he needed some air. 
He wished it were him. He wasn’t as fancy as Steve was, he had a white shirt under his uncle's old muted brown shirt. He struggled to remember in which pocket he put the Marlboro's away. He had been fidgeting with his lighter for a while, needing, craving a moment of silence. 
He was almost done smoking as he felt sorry for himself, when he heard the doors opening, the sudden music became clear for those brief seconds. 
He turned around, seeing you walking towards him with the biggest smile he had seen in your face for a while. 
For a brief moment, he forgot he was hurt. 
“You do look beautiful Moon” You told him as soon as you reached him, your body next to his, snatching the half smoked cigarette that he had in between his fingers. 
He scoffed, turning his whole body to look at you, he saw the way you smiled up at him, you were being sincere which was only just as hurting as you dancing with him had been. 
“Beautiful?” He questioned, a slight teasing on his tone as he inched closer, breathing in the smoke you let out, stealing the cigarette back. 
“Yeah, beautiful handsome Eddie.” You uttered, the faint smell of alcohol left your mouth, Eddie scrunch his nose. 
“You’re drunk?” 
“No, only had one drink. But you’ve been moody, I miss you in there.” You chirped back, your usual playful tone didn’t make him smile, not even grin. You got worried right there and then. Your hand reaching for his, trying to pull him back into the party. 
“I’m sure you’ll have a great time.” He implied, nodding at Steve who was just now opening the door, looking for you with a lovesick grin on his face. 
“What’s going on?” You weren’t sure what you had done to leave him in such a state, he seemed hurt, his words colder than they had even been. 
“Nothing.” Eddie lied, you hated lies. 
Something in you clicked, as you saw the way Steve smiled you, a contradiction to Eddie’s pursed lips as his jawline looked sharper than it ever did. 
Robin’s words echoed in your head Eddie’s got a crush on you, Steve’s got a crush on you. 
“Well, next time have the courage to ask me out before someone else does…” You snapped back, your arms crossing over your chest, a protective stance taking hold of you as you stepped back. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He shook his head, his hair brushing against his face, an apologetic look on his eyes that made you want to cry. 
“It means don’t just suppose nobody will want me, am I supposed to wait for you forever?” 
Eddie couldn’t quite believe that declaration, knowing now you might also have some feeling for him, but he was a little too late. You sniffled your nose, shaking your head, your hair flowing everywhere. “Forget it.” You declared, leaving the little bubble you were in. 
You walked over to Steve, and he just looked at you, the smile he had turned as soon as he saw the way your eyes were crystalizing, menacing with tears. He cupped your cheeks with his hands. 
You gave in, your body hitting his, Eddie just saw the way your shoulders moved up and down. 
You were crying now. 
“Honey…” Steve begged as he took you in his arms. “Do you want to leave?” 
“I’m sorry.” You whispered back, feeling warmer in his arms, the coldness of Eddie’s words brushing away with the closeness of Steve’s body. 
“Don’t be. We can go anywhere you want. As long as I’m with you I’m happy.” He blurted, his eyes looking at yours, his thumbs brushing out the tear that came out of them. 
“Are you sure?” 
“‘curse I am.” He added, a smile returning to his lips, before he kissed the crown of your head. “I can also drop you off.” He offered, you shook you head. 
“I don’t wanna be alone.” You answered, your voice still barely above a whisper. 
“That’s fine, you wanna go for a walk?” He replayed instead, taking your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. 
As soon as you nodded he started walking. He didn’t push for you to talk, he didn’t try to make assumptions, but of course he did. 
The last he had seen was you talking with Eddie. Steve had always thought that Eddie was beautiful, he had a magnetic pull with people that was hard to explain, and he also knew that Eddie was sharp with his words. So he gave you enough time to gather your thoughts. 
“I do like you…” You confessed, your tone remaining low and soft as you spoke, looking at the ground, not confident enough to look at him right now. 
“I like you too.” He gleamed with pride, though he thought that much was obvious. 
“I… I figured that out with the flowers.” You recalled, as a shiver from the cold air made you shake a bit. 
Steve wasted no second, his tuxedo jacket laying on your shoulders now. 
“The flowers gave me away?” He teased, a short chuckle in the back of his throat. “It wasn’t my constant offer to drive you anywhere?” He admitted with a defeated laugh. 
“I thought you were being nice.” You admitted, still not looking at him, much more interested in the way your shoe made contact with the ground beneath your feet. 
“I was. I also have this crush on you.” The word sended shivers down your spine. 
“Robin says Eddie also has a crush on me.” That when you looked up, seeing a defeated nod from Steve only confirmed it. “I… I don’t know what to do.” 
“I don’t wanna tell you what to do, but… while you figure it out, can I defend my case?” He pleaded, his waist bumping into yours, his finger under your chin. He was being brave, he was finally taking his chance. 
As soon as you nodded, and your lips parted, your eyes darting between his eyes and his lips, a neediness that became clear as you realised what was about to happen, Steve got closer. Close enough to breathe the same air as you, his mouth a whisper away from yours, enjoying that tension that had formulated in the air. He was enjoying that bit of power, feeling how bad you wanted him. You were the one to finally close the distance, and he was ecstatic about it. He took his time, his lips moving gracefully against yours, your hands tugging the back of his neck, one of his was lost in the space between your neck and your jawline, applying a pressure that made you moan against his lips, thought maybe that was due to the way his other hand was grabbing your waist, his fingers would leave a mark, that much was clear. 
As soon as you break off the kiss, the lovesick smile on both of your faces was evident. 
“That was…” He muttered, left speechless by your kisses, needing more of them. 
“You are a good kisser.” You slightly teased him back, recalling the rumors about him in a joyful manner. 
He kissed you a lot more after that, having to stop walking in the middle of the road as you went to find his car. 
Robin saw it, and decided it was best if she kept her mouth shut this time, but she did overhear the last thing Steve whispered to you before going back into the car. “I don’t mind sharing, you can figure out whatever you need, honey.” 
She already saw the headache coming, and really regretted that Eddie didn’t see the way your cheeks flustered at the idea of being with him for a while. 
2.9
-
-
“Babe, can you help me?” You cried out, the sun hitting you a bit too hard, you started to feel your skin burning if you weren’t careful. 
“Sure, be with you in a second.” Steve adds, gleaming at the sound of your voice calling him such a pretty nickname. Him and Robin were a bit busy, stacking the small cooler with every kind of beer and seltzer they could name, topping it with ice so it would stay cold during the hot summer’s day. The first of many to come. 
The pool had been officially opened, and with that, the usual invasion of the Harrington household started. This year however, Steve decided to throw a little party, so it wouldn’t be a surprise gathering at his house. 
Robin still hadn’t said anything about what she heard at prom, and she intended to keep it that way, she was having fun watching, as you struggled to operate. 
Steve came over, sitting behind you, a little kiss on your shoulder letting you know he was all yours for now. You passed him the sunscreen, it smelt like coconut and vanilla, as he spread it on your back and shoulders, he took the opportunity to be a bit more handsy than he needed to. He started massaging your back, knowing the effect it had on you, as he heard the stifled groan on the back of your throat, quiet enough that he’d be the only one to hear it. Once he reached the lower part of your back, he spent way too much time in it, tracing patterns that had no meaning besides getting your body closer, and closer to his crotch, moving you a bit so you’d feel the way it grew against your butt cheeks. You looked back at him, over your shoulder, to see him smiling, that stupid smile that let you know just how much he wanted you, now and everyday. You shook your head, laying on his chest with enough mischievousness to let your cheeks hold his bulge between them, you felt him breathe out in a needy manner, right against your cheek. He gave you a kiss on your lips, his hand now caressing your stomach, fully visible thanks to the white bikini you chose to wear. 
“Not while we have company, Harrington.” You whispered into his ear once his lips parted from yours. He groaned, deciding to just hold you tightly, his head buried where your neck met your shoulder, leaving wet kisses in that spot he knew you liked. 
“I told you… I don’t mind sharing.” He recalled the conversation you had about your curly haired friend he knew you had a crush on, even if you evidently liked him. 
“Shush.” You dismissed him, holding his face near yours, a kiss left on his lips, as you bit his lower one. “Let’s just stay here until the others come?” You pleaded, not wanting to think about it, not really ready to think about Eddie coming here right now. 
He answered with another kiss against your sun kissed skin, decidedly staying like this. Enjoying each other’s presence, soft touches and caresses. 
The last few weeks with Steve had been amazing, but Eddie had grown cold as soon as he heard that you seemingly had made your choice, even if you were far from it. 
Steve's words didn’t help. 
In your mind, Steve seemed excited with the idea of you making out, or whatever it was with his friend, as long as you kept doing it with him. It was a dangling temptation, a dream, a forbidden fruit that had all of a sudden become edible. 
You weren’t sure how much time had passed, you just knew Steve’s fingers were too busy tracing little drawings on your lower stomach, dangerously close to the edge of the thong that was part of your two piece. When all of a sudden your eyes opened from the noise that was coming out of the house. Eddie had arrived, accompanied by Nancy and Jonathan. The couple came out first. 
“Hey lovebugs!” Nancy screamed, her usual upbeat tone making Steve open his eyes, he waved back, you did the same movement, which made her chuckle. 
Eddie followed them closely, even in such warm weather, he still had his blue jeans on, only this time his white tank top let his arms out on the sun, you got lost in him for just a second. 
Eddie avoided your stare, got lost in your body instead. Robin clocked the way he swallowed, his muscles in his neck tensing as he tried not to look too much. It was hard, since he knew he could be the one holding you as near as he desired. 
Jonathan grabbed two beers, and offered one to Eddie, he felt compassion for him, just like Robin, he was used to being observant, and had known about Eddie’s feelings for a while, and he had been in the same situation, only he had a bit more luck. 
The moment came where you decided to finally jump into the water, all of your friends deciding they wanted to stay dry, watching you as you floated in the pool. 
You were pretty good at knowing who was staring, even if they had the same coloured eyes, Eddie’s and Steve’s staring felt different. Eddie’s was full of regret, he had wanted to talk to you ever since you left the dance, Steve’s was full of hunger -at least while you looked like that, skin wet, and your hair framing your face in a way he’d call heavenly if asked.- though if you were honest, you felt a trace of desire in Eddie’s eyes everytime yours met. 
Robin had enough of that show, and even if she promised to herself she wouldn’t say anything, she needed to talk to someone, so she did. 
“Nance, can you help me get some wine?” She asked, a lift of the eyebrow and she understood she needed to speak to her. 
“Sure.” She added before following her into the house. 
Eddie and Jonathan stayed there, grinding some weed for later. Steve looked at them, and stood up, walking to the edge of the pool, sitting on it, waiting for you to come. 
Robin started rumbling as soon as they reached the kitchen. 
“I need to tell you something, but you can’t say anything. But if I don’t tell it to someone I’m gonna lose my mind” She was talking in a fast-paced manner that let Nancy know just how much she had been needing to talk. 
“Jesus okay. Breathe.” She said, pushing her shoulders down. “Now, shoot.” 
“I overhead the new couple at the prom.” She started, waiting for a nod from Nancy so she could continue. “Steve told her that he knows about Eddie’s feelings, and that he’s okay sharing? What does that even mean? Has he ever said something like that to you? Do you think… Maybe Steve wants to…?” 
Nancy’s eyes opened wide, at the amount of information and preceding questions she asked, her head working overtime to keep up with her friend. 
“He’s okay sharing as in…” 
“I think he wants her to make a move or something, so she can know for sure she wants to be with him but that’s just…” She didn’t dare to finish the sentence, not without implying something she’d hate for people to imply about herself. 
“Steve really has changed.” Nancy over enunciated, raising her eyebrows as she looked over for the wine. Robin erupted in laughter. 
“What do you think I should do?” She implored now, stepping in closer to her, grabbing some glasses for the white wine. 
“You? Nothing. I’m sure Eddie’ll catch on soon enough.” She pointed out, as she started to head out. “He’s practically drooling everytime she looks at her.” She joked as Robin chuckled, following her closely. 
At the same time, Jonathan looked at Eddie, and how concentrated he was on grinding the weed so he could smoke it. He knew Eddie was feeling a bit overwhelmed, and he knew how much it could help, so he stayed put, waiting for him to finish. 
“Look dude, I don’t really know you that much but uh… You’ve got something in your mind.. If you need to uh.. talk it out…” He offered, feeling incredibly embarrassed by that leap he was making, knowing Eddie had the right to blow him off. 
He didn’t. He looked up, nodding with a half smile as he mouthed a thanks. He looked over at Steve walking closer to you and the sense of urgency came back. 
“Pass me the paper, please?” He babbled, as his hand reached out. Grabbing it and starting to roll what would -hopefully- calm him down. “I just… I fucked it up.” He added, nodding at you, and the way you smiled as soon as you saw Steve. 
“Why’d you say that?” 
“She told me if she was supposed to wait for me forever, next thing I know, she’s kissing Steve.” He sputtered, a trace of hurt could still be felt on his voice. Jonathan gave him a reassuring touch on his shoulder. 
“That’s Steve… Though to be fair… You shouldn’t lose hope.” He recomforted him, looking at Nancy as she came back, a smile on his face. 
Talking of Steve he found his way to you. His legs on the water, moving it slightly, the waves hitting your body. You looked over at him, a smile wide on his face. 
You swam closer to him, instead of laying against the granite that circled the pool, you let your arms rest on his thigh, looking up at him with dreamy eyes. 
“Hi.” You beamed at him, the softness of your tone made him get even more lost into you. 
“Hi.” He echoed, one of his hands cupping your cheek, you gave in to the touch. “You should get out, Nancy went to get your favourite wine.”  You smiled deeply at him, he really did care for you. 
“Going.” You whisper as you find your way to the stairs, pushing your head down one last time, so the hair wouldn’t annoy you. 
Eddie caught that. And the way you walked out of the pool was enough for his cock to push against his zipper. He crossed his legs, enjoying the show a bit more, as he lit the joint he had been preparing. He got a bit lost, especially on the way your hair not only framed your face, but your breasts, that seemed to shine as water dropped out of them. It didn’t help that you were wearing white, he was going to lose his mind. 
Only this time, Steve caught him, a cheeky grin appearing on his face as he made eye contact with Eddie, who became flustered. Steve just nodded, and mouthed its fine. Eddie had never been more confused. 
“We’ve got your wine!” Robin cheered, as she raised a glass to you. You took a good sip of it, the lightness of it invading your mouth, a smile left on your lips. 
“Cheers.” You added, taking another taste. “I’ll just go change really quick.”You excused yourself, bending down a bit so you could put your drink down. It was torture for Eddie, who was trying extremely hard not to be too evident, but right now he just felt you were starting to tease him, bending over when that little fabric was covering you. 
Maybe you were. 
It was intoxicating, knowing that you did have that power over both of them. While Eddie was a bit too lost in your behind, Steve got lost in your chest, even if he was more taken aback with the eye contact you liked to keep. You walked slowly back into the house, up the stairs to the left where Steve’s room was. You grabbed one of his oversized white shirts, and a pair of faded, soft, basketball shorts that were too short on him, yet perfect for you. You found your way to the downstairs bathroom, knowing that you could hang your bikini there until it dries off, and that no one would really know -or care- if you were wearing underwear or not. 
You left the door ajar, it would only take a moment. 
The top part was changed in a swift movement, so was the down one. 
You looked at yourself in the mirror, your hair becoming a tangled mess, it would only get worse if you didn’t brush it off soon. You looked for one, something, anything, unsuccessfully. 
The door opened all of a sudden. Eddie was there, an apologetic look on his face. 
“Sorry, thought nobody was here.” He pleaded, as he started to close the wooden door. 
“It’s fine, I’m just looking for a hairbrush, then I’ll leave.” You tried to explain to him, not really wanting him to leave, fully aware that those were the first words you’ve exchanged. 
“You won’t reach it.” Eddie mumbled, walking back in. He closed the door, and opened the cabinet that was higher up, grabbing a little box that had various different combs on it. He grabbed the one that was better for your hair and looked at you. “D’you want me to…?” He gestured with his hands, up and down, a brushing motion. 
You nodded, your back now facing him, as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Eddie looked back at you, your eyes meeting on the reflective surface. He pursed his lips, the high made everything feel ten times more intense. It was intoxicating enough being near you, getting to be this close to you made it hard for him to concentrate. 
You kept looking at him, and every move he made, the tension that was getting created in that little space growing larger and larger. A sense of electricity, of magnetism pulling you in closer, close enough that your waist touched his. He breathed out loudly, knowing this was getting a bit too much. But the small tugging in his pants only made your lip quiver with more confidence, he wanted this just as much as you did. You got on your tip-toes for a moment, just to go slowly down, your butt graceing his crotch slowly. You could see the way his eyes shut down for that moment, how his mouth opened, how his hands grabbed your hair and the brush harder, trying not to say anything. It was intoxicating. He finished brushing your hair, and he let the comb hit the floor. You made eye contact through the mirror once again, as he breathed in that loud manner again, shaking his head at you, struggling to let something out of his lips. 
“Dove… I…” He tried, your hands already on the back of his neck, pushing him in against you, you needed to feel him, as near as you could. 
“I do like you.” You confessed in between whispers, your fingers tugging his hair. “I just… I’m confused.” You admitted, your hips had started a little pattern, grinding against his crotch. A needines was beating on your chest, traveling all the way down to where you made contact with him. 
“Fuck…” And with that you knew what was coming. 
Eddie let out a moan out of hornyness and anger. He had wanted you for so long, he would be an idiot if he didn’t at least give you a kiss. 
Just one kiss, he told himself. 
His hands grabbed your waist tightly, turning you so you’d finally look at his eyes, not at a mirror, the brown of them almost gone, a hunger you were experiencing just as much as he was. Even if he was dying for more, he started kissing your cheek, a trembling hand grabbing your butt, messaging it, your leg lifting on instinct, pushing his crotch with yours, the feeling of the zipper messing with you, the soft fabric not protecting you much. He kept kissing your neck, and the little zone behind your ear, leaving soft moans every time his mouth left your skin. Once you were drunk on him, he cupped your face with one hand, the other still holding your butt firmly, and finally let your lips touch. You became one in that moment, your waist still moving, your hands scratching his back in an attempt to obtain more. You needed to drink every single drop of him. His hand started teasing at your behind, a smile when he noticed the lack of underwear, and just how sensitive you were. If he pushed the short upwards, the fabric touched you in a way that made you whimper. 
It wasn’t fair, you also deserved to play. 
Your hands left his back, travelled to his crotch, undoing the belt in a swift movement. The sound of the belt buckle made him snap back. 
That was more than one kiss. 
“We can’t…” He said, pulling strength from somewhere, he wasn’t sure where. 
“Steve doesn’t mind.” You tried to make him understand, unsuccessfully. 
“If I was him, I would want you all to myself.” 
-
The sun was setting, Nancy was half asleep into Jonathan’s arms, Robin was a bit too inebriated, laughing at every small detail she saw. 
It wasn’t difficult. 
When you came out of the bathroom, a flustered Eddie followed you minutes after. Steve looked at you with a puzzled look, and you just nodded. 
Now you were sitting between them both. 
Jonathan looked at Steve’s grip on your thigh, while your pinky was grabbing Eddie’s. He opened his eyes as soon as he understood. He gave Eddie a quick look, he just nodded in quiet disbelief. 
“I think we should go.” Jonathan said in a soft-spoken voice, brushing Nancy’s hair. 
“I’m way too wasted to drive.” Eddie muttered in response, a cheap excuse everyone noticed. He wasn’t ready to leave. 
Jonathan offered his hand, Eddie’s van keys fell onto his palm. 
“Okay then, we’ll go.” He stood up, helping Nancy up, gesturing to Robin to follow him. She looked back at the three of you, she struggled to hide a chuckle. 
“Fine… au revouir!” She teased as soon as she looked at you, your cheeks getting that pinkish tone to them again. You hid your face behind your palm, begging she was the only one out of them that understood the stupid joke. The shocked giggle out of Steve’s lips let you know he got it too. 
“I’ll walk with you to the door.” Steve added, off-handedly. As soon as he stood up and took a couple of steps, he looked at you over his shoulder, the prettiest smile on his face. 
It was a do whatever you need, a i want you to do it, a please do it. 
The type of look that drove you insane. 
Eddie lit up another spliff, standing up, your eyes looking up at him, all doe-like. If only you could read his mind, he thought. 
“I think I’ll go for a swim.” You were unsure if it was an invitation, or if he just needed some space, a moment to think it all well. 
Truth be told, Eddie was curious about what you’d do now, once he took his shirt off, careful not to burn anything, smoke still coming out of his mouth, a delightful picture you would keep in your mind for a long time. 
You hadn’t seen him shirtless. 
It was a sight to see, you thought. You knew he had muscles, you didn’t know his were somehow more defined than Steve’s. His chest was pale, decorated with ink, your fingers suddenly tingling the urge to trace over them, especially the one he had near his hip bone. 
Eddie enjoyed seeing you like that, for once you were the one thirsting over his body, your mouth half opened, having trouble taking your eyes off his chest, while yours all of a sudden raised faster. Your breathing quickening. 
His back was also well defined, framed by his hair swinging a bit with every step he took, his curls bouncing in an hypnotizing manner. 
He sat down on the steps of the swimming pool, his waist submerged in the water. He smiled as soon as he heard your cautious steps approaching him. You sat near him, your body not in the water, only your legs, looking at his side profile. You could draw him from memory alone, you realised. He didn’t say anything, he just looked at you, his usual grin that always made you smile back. He offered the joint to you, you shook your head, a drink still in your hand. 
“We’re swimming?” Steve proposed at the sight of you two, already taking his shirt off. 
Before any of you could answer, he had already jumped into the water, swimming back in the middle of you, taking the offer of the spliff Eddie had in between his fingers with a shrug. 
“I’m not wearing uh…” Your eyes darted nervously at Eddie, and the memory of his fingers discovering it just a few minutes ago. He did the same, his hand twitching as he made eye contact with you. 
“I’m sure Eddie won’t care.” He assured, his tone dropping a bit. The husky tone hypnotising you. Steve looked at the curly headed boy waiting for a response. He just scratched his chin, looking back at you, his eyelids half closed. “See, he doesn’t.” He gestured back at him, getting a bit closer to you. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to” He whispered, needing you to know he meant it, the softness of his words made you know he was telling the truth. 
As soon as you felt Steve’s hand on your thigh, and how good the water droplets falling from them felt on your skin, you opened your legs, letting him gain access, his hands finding the hem of your shorts rapidly, pulling them down softly. 
Eddie was hypnotised by it. The way your legs looked, the look of devotion you had for Steve, how confident you seemed, the shy soft smile in your face as you were enjoying his touch against your skin as the shorts became a faint memory. He looked attentive as Steve’s hands reached the end of your shirt, how his lips kissed your knee, eyes closed, how a soft moan escaped your lips. He felt himself grow, no longer restricted by his jeans. The spliff long forgotten by your side, his full attention in how more parts of you were revealed, as Steve slowly took your shirt off. The first thing he saw was the curvature of your back, your stomach following it closely. When he saw your breasts under the sunset, he realised he had never been as hard. You shook your head as soon as the shirt was off, your hair flowing freely. Your hand caressing Steve’s face, inching closer to him, leaving a sound kiss on his lips. He was trying to repress the urge he had of touching himself, it felt like he was looking at a private show, just for him. 
Steve helped you into the water, his hands holding tightly onto your waist, pulling you in slowly. Enjoying the sound you made as water hitted your full body. He had only eyes for you. His nose touched yours, asking for permission to kiss you once again, his bare chest hitting yours, you were the one who broke the distance, pushing into him with the usual care. Steve’s lips were soft, fitted with yours perfectly, you thought. 
Eddie couldn’t take it anymore. He had to touch himself. It was pathetic, he thought, you were making out in front of him, and he needed to touch himself, feeling like if he didn’t take it out, it would just start to hurt, so he did. He grabbed the waistband of his swimsuit down, already stroking his dick in a slow movement, when all of a sudden, you made eye contact with him, while you were still kissing Steve. You broke the kiss, yet Steve kept kissing your neck, one of his hands already on the small of your back, pushing your entrance to his erection. You moaned at the sight of him, and Eddie’s movements deepened. 
“You wanna kiss her?” Steve asked as soon as he opened his eyes, seeing the way Eddie looked at you, his cock still out. “Come.” He invited him, with a quick shake of his head. “She really wants you to do so, Munson.” That did it for him, that and the fact that you moaned as soon as you heard his last name, though maybe that had more to do with the way Steve’s fingers were teasing you now. 
He didn’t really waste that much time, he took off his swimsuit before coming into the water, not caring about anything else but the way your eyes looked at him, needing him. You felt his dick on your stomach, the hardness of it coming into contact with you thanks to the short distance. Eddie’s hands didn’t shake now, he was decided. They held your face, coping your cheeks in the way he had hoped to do so for so long, breaking the distance, as your lips found each other. Your tongues touching, finally, both of you thought, as your hands reached for his body, as did his. 
Steve was still enjoying himself, touching you, feeling how you squirm under his touch, your legs shaking a bit as he kept teasing, your clit missing him everytime he messed around. 
Eddie couldn’t stop kissing you, he was enjoying it maybe a bit much. He had never tasted something better, and he never wanted to. He wished in between kisses to remember this sensation forever, your hands on his body, fingers buried deep into his skin, begging for more as you moaned into his mouth. 
Your hands were dangerously low, but it didn’t matter. 
A sharp gasp escaped your lips as you felt Steve’s fingers reaching inside you, moving them slowly, each movement deeper than the last. 
“Please.” You begged, looking up at Steve, his hand reaching for your neck, leaving a thigh squeez before he kissed your cheek. “Please.” You whimpered again, looking outside the pool. 
Eddie understood, and followed closely. Steve pushed your body up, you were now sitting on the stone that circled the pool, your body slowly hitted the ground, legs hanging from the edge, grabbing Eddie’s hand so you’d have him near, your hand started messing with his pelvic bone, a few brushes, caresses and he was already doing that loud breathing that proved to drive you insane. 
Steve didn’t waste no time, grabbing the back of your legs, pushing your body closer to the edge, leaving kisses on your knee, then your upper thigh, the inside of it, everywhere his lips had access to, while his hand got a bit busy feeling you, and the wetness of your entrance. 
Eddie brushed your hair behind your ear, before diving in for a kiss, his lips touching yours, just so he could have an excuse to start kissing your neck, hearing you make such pretty noises that close to his ear was something he never thought he would be able to. To be fair, he moaned as soon as your hand wrapped around his dick, starting the slow movement, he smiled in between kisses as you kept it going. 
The combination of it all; Eddie moaning your name that close to your ear, your whole body filled with goosebumps, as Steve started kissing your clit, it made you arch your back. 
“You’re sensitive today.” Steve teased, as his lips went back to the spot that was driving you mad, one of his fingers starting to make his way inside you, you felt him smile as he heard you moan at that. 
“Jesus sweetheart…” Eddie breathed out, a groan escaping the back of his throat, his voice was the lowest you had ever heard. “If you keep touching me like that, making those sounds…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence. 
He saw the way you smiled proudly at the praise, your teeth biting your lower lip, while you breathed heavily, he had to kiss you again, that way he knew you’d be moaning into eachothers’ mouths.
Once Steve had three fingers inside you, his movements finding the perfect pace, his mouth all over you, legs shaking while his head was in between he could tell you were close, Eddie’s hands stroking your body helping in that. Speaking of, he looked at him, he could also tell he was trying not to come, not yet. He stopped eating you out, his head resting on your tight. 
“You wanna…?” He asked you first, nodding to him. He could tell you did, just by the way your eyes shined as soon as he asked, he had to hide a giggle once he looked at Eddie who was concentrating on something else. 
“Edds” You begged, moaning his name. It made him tilt his head backwards a bit, your hand still tightly wrapped around his dick. “Can you fuck me?” He had to bite the inside of his lips so he wouldn't come right then. His hands grabbing your legs, turning your body to him, so your entrance would be at his level was enough confirmation. Before Eddie started, while he was admiring you in all your glory, you looked deep into Steve’s eyes, your hand finally dropping his swimsuit, stroking him. A hunger in your eyes before you asked “Can I?” 
He nodded. 
Then he looked around, knowing that it would be more comfortable for you if you were on the couch. 
“Inside.” He groaned, looking at you first, then turning to Eddie. 
Before you knew it, Eddie was sitting on the couch, too much in a hurry to care if it became a bit wet, his hands got lost in your waist, kissing the zone between your belly button and your cunt, your skin reacting to every touch, pulling you in softly, slowly. While Steve was next to you, his hand still touching your clit, getting you warmed up for Eddie, as your hand curved around his cock, stroking it. 
You noticed, while Eddie was longer, Steve was wider. Both of them large, though Eddie’s curved a bit, you knew that would be something you’d like, and you were eager to prove it to yourself. 
Your free hand touched Eddie’s chin, making him look up at you, his gaze into yours, lowering as you sat on top of him. 
You both moaned as he entered you, you made your way down slowly, fully wrapping around him, a sensation you were sure you could never forget. His hand grabbing your waist, guiding you gracefully. You left a quick kiss on his lips, before turning to find Steve. 
He waited for you to guide him, he knew just how overstimulating everything must be, as much as he wished for you to do something right now, he waited, patiently, stroking his own erection as he looked at you, and the way you bounced on top of Eddie’s cock. 
You pulled him in, his knees on the couch, his body sitting where the head usually rests, his hand petting your hair, you didn’t waste that much time, filling your mouth with him. 
“Honey…” He blurted, having trouble articulating words. “You’re taking both of us so well.” He praised, as he started to pull your hair, your head following the movements, effectively mouthfucking you at the pace he wished, a series of profanities falling from his mouth. 
“You really are.” Eddie added, his hands pulling you in deeper, your eyes closing out of pure pleasure, as his cock pushed into you, a rhythm you felt right in your stomach. 
Eddie couldn’t help himself, he started with just a thigh squeeze, just to end up slapping your ass, the sound of the clapping only turning you on faster. Eddie was so close, his arms wrapped around you, in complete devotion. You took a second, continuing to work on Steve with your hand to kiss Eddie, Steve’s precum still on your throat, but he didn’t care. He needed you there, his forehead against yours, his mouth moaning and half screaming your name. 
“I’m not gonna last long.” He said, drunk on you from head to toe. 
“I want you…” You started, having to gather some air before continuing, you could feel his dick ripping you deeper every time he reentered, his hand pushing you deeper into him every time you did. “To come, please, Eddie, please.” You ended begging in a whimper, that did it for him. 
You kissed him, before your head fell into his shoulder, biting him as you felt the way his muscles flexed around you, his head falling backwards.
“Shit” Eddie groaned as soon as he felt himself come, deep on you, looking deep in your eyes, a smile evident in them. Steve didn’t even think about it before doing it, once he made eye contact with him, his lips were on his, a soft kiss that needed to happen. Eddie’s hands still on the small of your back, Steve’s on the back of your neck. 
“Hot.” You whispered, making you all three laugh, breaking the soft tension that was in the air. 
You got off, Eddie groaned as he felt you leave, he didn’t want you to ever leave his side. You looked back at Steve, he knew what you wanted, no words needed. He nodded, before kissing you again, his hands pulling you a bit closer to him, before turning you over. 
Your stomach laid on the couch cushions, your ass high as he could get it, a sight he loved if he was honest, only this time your head rested on Eddie’s lap, while he brushed your head, Eddie’s brown eyes looking up at Steve, another sight to be seen he thought. He took a moment to take it in, before his hands grabbed your waist, helping them find his way inside you, a moan of pure delight as you felt him. You bite Eddie’s thigh, careful not to moan too loud. 
The sight of Steve fucking you, you trying desperately not to scream as he moved slowly, filling you up wider that he had, the small kisses and bites you were leaving on his skin were enough for him to get hard again, and you took that opportunity gladly, your tongue on the tip of his dick, licking tentatively, as you heard him groan at the feeling of you playing with him, his hands on his head, already overstimulated. Steve took that as what it was, and he went in harder, and harder, and harder. 
“That’s it, you’re doing so good baby.” He moaned, his fingers turning white as he held you, no doubt leaving a mark on your body. 
“Shit…” Eddie moaned again, as your lips opened wider, swallowing him deeper and deeper. “You’re… fuck you’re amazing.” He struggled to say as he whimpered, the praise only making you go in ways he never imagined. 
Steve felt how your walls were closing, a clear indication you were getting exactly where he wanted you to be, his nails digging in your skin, in the kind of way he knew drove you insane, your back arched even more, letting him get deeper than he ever had. 
“Eddie” Steve said, looking at him, his eyes were half gone once he looked back. “Touch her, she’s close.” 
You confirmed as much, whining while your mouth was still filled with Eddie’s cock, your left hand stroking him at the same pace as Steve was fucking you. 
As soon as you felt Eddie’s fingers on your clit, the coldness of the rings only making you enjoy it even more, you knew you weren’t gonna last long. Eddie felt it too, you were struggling to concentrate on sucking him off, so he pulled himself out of your mouth, kissing you instead. 
“I rather hear you, sweetheart.” He whispered into your ear.
“Keep doing that, please.” You begged at both of them. 
They did, somehow with the same rhythm, Eddie’s hand knew exactly how to touch you, while the other one was touching himself. Steve kept fucking you, the sound of your body hitting his was magic, you thought. Symphonies could be written with the way it all sounded, Eddie praising you, guiding you through it, Steve’s groaning your name as he pushed in and out, and you being as loud as you wanted to. 
It didn’t take long before Steve felt it, your legs thigting, the sharp intake of your breathing, your hand closing in a fist. 
“You can come, honey.” He groaned, as he too felt himself not being able to hold it for much longer. 
“Please.” Eddie added, as he too wasn’t gonna last that much more. 
You did, your back arched as you felt Steve hit you for a couple more times before the warmness filled you up, leaving every inch of your skin he could find covered with kisses. Eddie came, the cum falling in his stomach and hand. 
“Jesus…” Eddie muttered, as he let his body fully relax. 
“Yeah…” Steve added, pulling out of you, pulling you in for a hug as soon as his body hitted the couch. 
You melted into his arms, nudging Eddie to come closer. He did with a half smile, you enjoyed Steve’s caressing of your skin whilst your fingers got lost into Eddie’s hair. 
“Robin’s gonna kill me when I tell her…” Eddie muttered, before realising that he wasn’t sure if you were going to tell people about it. 
“What will you tell her?” Steve asked, as if he could read his thoughts. Not in an inquisitive tone, more of a curious one. 
“Tell her you went to Paris.” You half joked, a giggle escaping your lips. “She already knows, I’m sure.” You let the two confused men know. 
“Does she?” Steve’s curiosity piked, you nodded, leaving a kiss on his chest.
“She said I should visit it right before the dance.” You let them know. 
“Well, thanks Robin.” Eddie laughed, intertwining your fingers with yours. 
“Are you staying over?” Steve asked at Eddie, you could sense a bit of hopefulness in his tone. 
“If you let me.” 
“We should go to bed then, comfier.” Steve added, the biggest smile on his face. “Maybe we’ll do this again.” He finished with a kiss on the top of your head.
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galedekarios · 2 days
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gale & karlach
i think out of all the dynamics between the companions, i've come to enjoy gale and karlach the most over my time with the game. karlach especially bc she's the only one who genuinely seems to care about and for gale.
she repeatedly checks in on him after the orb reveal and doesn't turn it into a joke about slurping carrots, or sipping wine, or wanting him to be gone entirely from the group.
not only does she advocate for him to stay three times, depending on which dialogue path you pick:
gale's background story reveal & the reveal about the netherese orb
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Karlach: Come on. We all have our secrets - and our risks. If Gale leaves, we might as well disband completely. - Karlach: Absolutely. We're all risky in our own ways. We stick together anyway. Right? - Karlach: If having dangerous, otherworldly objects stuck in your skin is wrong, then Gale and I both have to go. We're not really splitting up, are we?
but she's also the only one who repeatedly asks him throughout the game how he is doing, to make sure how he's faring, both in general and with his debilitating condition:
act 2 - shadow-cursed lands banter
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Karlach: Doing all right, Gale? Gale: Oh, you know... Still alive and kicking, despite being surrounded on all sides by an endless manifestation of darkness and decay... devnote: Almost with a sigh. That's just how things are - Grim humour to it. Karlach: I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.
act 3 - after mystra stabilised the orb
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Karlach: How's the orb treating you, Gale? Gale: Oh, quite well as a matter of fact. Since it was stabilised, it's been humming along nicely. Gale: I have noticed one adverse side-effect. I seem to be losing hair in some, er, unexpected places. Karlach: I can only imagine.
i think it really bears repeating/stressing that no other companion does this. not one checks in on gale like karlach does, after his affliction has become known to his companions - with the exception of the protag potentially.
karlach also arguably has the strongest reaction in response to mystra's demands in act 2, showing again her care for gale, as well as her protective side:
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Karlach: Aw, was that Gale's granddad? Player: That was Elminster Aumar - the most famous wizard in the realms. Karlach: Huh. Doesn't ring a bell. But all right! Must've had something important to say to Gale, if he came all this way. Good news, I hope. Player: I don't think it was. It turns out Gale has an explosive bomb in his chest - and Mystra has asked him to use it to blow up the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: Whoa, now. He's got a... well, I guess that would explain a little, but... Mystra... I mean, this is a lot to take in. Karlach: What's he going to do? - Player - Option 1: I think he's going to follow through with it. Karlach: Fuck me. There's devotion, and then there's stupidity. If the god of magic can't handle this without sacrificing Gale, she's no god at all. - Player - Option 2: I don't think he'd do that to himself, even if Mystra commanded it. Karlach: Good. I'm one hundred percent sure there's another way to bring down this cult. No true god would ask such a thing from her faithful. That's for certain. Karlach: Poor Gale. He must be in bits after hearing that. I'll distract him. Tell him I haven't read a book since secondary school, watch his face melt off. - Player - Option 3: I'm not sure. I think he's of several minds. Karlach: Well, tell him to pick the right one. Better yet, I'll do it. Fucking wizards, man! They always need help picking the simple, obvious option. Karlach: If Mystra can't think of another way to stop the Absolute than sacrificing Gale, she's no god worth worshipping. I'll say that to Gale - in, you know, gentle terms. - Player - Option 4: You know that bomb in Gale's chest? Mystra has asked him to use it to explode the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: She what?! Is she mad?! - Player - Option 5: Don't worry about it. Karlach: Karlach doesn't worry, she acts. So if Gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.
i particularly like that last response bc it really echoes throughout her relationship with gale ("karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.").
their banters are often playful, but also genuine. both karlach and gale tease each other, they joke with each other, showing how comfortable they are with each other despite their many differences, but there are also moments of understanding and care between them, allowing them to emphasise with each other:
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Karlach: Man, it's good to be home. First round on who? Gale: She who thirsts buys drinks the first. devnote: Like it's a well-known saying Karlach: You won't pin me down with a rhyme, wizard! devnote: Jockeying with Gale (prob supposed to be Joking with Gale) Gale: She who declines gets the worst of the wines.
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Karlach: Just when I was getting used to the sky again... Gale: Fear not, Karlach. Sun, moon and stars will still be there waiting for us. devnote: Reassuring Karlach: Meanwhile, this place is pretty spectacular, isn't it? Gale: No book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice. But perhaps our stories might, when we return to the surface. devnote: Agreeing with Karlach, enjoying the sense of wonder as you explore
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Gale: I've always felt flames to be a rather perfect expression of love, Karlach. Gale: Passionate, primal, capable of bestowing the most life-affirming comfort, or inflicting the profoundest damage. devnote: Listing the qualities of fire, Romantic, indulging in the poetry of the image Karlach: That's... pretty nice. Never thought about it like that. But now I will.
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Karlach: Wouldn't mind a dancing axe of my own. Gale: A simple movement charm wouldn't be too hard to apply to such an object. I could conjure one up for you if you like? Karlach: Yes! I like! Gale: Very wel then. Once the city is saved, Karlach's Kinetic Cleaver will be first on my list.
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Karlach: So, Gale - got any book recommendations for me?devnote: With concern Gale: You can read?! devnote: Taking the piss - knows full well Karlach can read, and that she's always claimed not to enjoy it Karlach: Very funny. Yes - I can read. School put me off big boring tomes. Sometimes I wonder what I'm missing. devnote: Friendly rather than flirtatious Gale: Say no more - I'll find the perfect book for you. I might even lend it to you from my library in Waterdeep. devnote: Jumping on the opportunity to give a book recommendation (a favourite hobby) Karlach: Ooh! Something with magic, please. And no devils.
even at his most vulnerable moments, karlach is there to support him:
before the stormshore tabernacle audience with mystra
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Karlach: You can do this, Gale. And I'll be right here when you're done.
she allows herself to be protective of him and get angry on his behalf not after when it comes to mystra, but also when he is potentially kidnapped by orin:
karlach's reaction to gale being kidnapped
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Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back.
once again, it's a good callback to her previous line: "karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me."
she's willing to be needed by him - and he does need her. whether that is as a friend, or (if you chose to play so during an origin pt) as a romantic partner. it's a lovely dynamic either way.
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✨ Behind (Not So) Closed Doors✨
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As promised, here’s a little story of the one prompt I got a little bit ago! Literally no one voted ‘no’ on the poll for this story and I think that’s hysterical, bunch of thirsty mfs (affectionate 💖)
Lucifer x f!sinner reader
Summary: You catch Lucifer acting out on his most carnal desires…
Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbation, voyeurism, fingering, hand job, (oral m & f receiving), p in v
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You remember first meeting the King of Hell on the day you checked yourself into the Hazbin Hotel. And you remember thinking that Lucifer looked nothing like you had pictured. Of course he was beautiful, that wasn’t shocking, but he was so…unimposing. Not only that, but he was also kind, albeit a bit dorky as well. Not that it was off putting to you, it was endearing if anything!
Although, you hadn’t spoken to him all that much since the time you’d moved in. Lucifer seemed so nonchalant and relaxed with everyone else in the hotel, save for Alastor, who you noticed always managed to get under the fallen angel’s skin one way or another. Even you knew the radio demon was playing with fire; probably wasn’t the smartest idea to piss off the most powerful being in Hell. Regardless, how he acted around you was a little odd to say the least. It seemed like Lucifer was always trying to avoid you for some unknown reason. Did he not like you?
When you had first spoken to him all those months ago, you could tell he was tense. He rambled, a lot. And he somehow managed to fumble every other word that left his mouth. He quickly left after your initial meeting, and ever since then it had been nearly impossible to get in more than five words at a time. He had an impossibly perfect disappearing act, what with his portaging abilities. One time you greeted him from across the lobby and his only response was “O-Oh! H-Hey you! Uhh, I just, umm…welp, gotta run!” and took off before you could even say goodbye. Truly bizarre.
You eventually went to Charlie, telling her that her dad was seemingly very distant towards you. “Oh, don’t worry about that!” Charlie explained. “He’s a pretty busy guy, so he’s usually popping in and out of here pretty frequently. And he’s told me on multiple occasions that he’s glad you joined the hotel! He can come off as a bit scatterbrained, but rest assured he’s more than happy to have you here! And so am I!”
You smiled and thanked her. From the few months that you’ve known her, Charlie was never one to lie, so you decided to take her words at face value. For now, at least. For some reason, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up with Lucifer. You needed to find out.
A few nights had passed and you found yourself wandering through the lobby. The black nightgown you typically wore to bed didn't provide nearly enough heat, but you didn't want to change back into your normal day clothes either. So, you threw on your favorite pink robe before you left your room, it was more than enough to keep you comfortable. It was late, way later than you should have been awake. Even Husk was asleep, the bar sat devoid of any life. It was difficult to sleep most nights, you were still grappling with the fact that you were, in fact, in Hell. You thought you were a decent person in life. Never religious but you tried your best to while you were alive. But that didn’t seem to matter. Perhaps you should have attended church with your family more often, or donated to more charities, or not cut that one person off at that traffic light. Lying awake in your bed didn’t help these thoughts but getting up and walking around usually helped just a tad.
You glanced over to the fireplace, noticing the flames dancing against the walls. That was strange, considering no one ever used the fireplace, or at least not that you’ve seen. But then you noticed one of the large chairs in front of it wasn’t empty. A white sleeve laid across the arm rest. You walked over out of pure curiosity, just to see who was awake at this ungodly hour like you. You craned your neck to see Lucifer sitting there frozen, his head down and eyes closed with his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked troubled. Before you could speak up, you heard him mumble under his breath.
“What the hell am I going to do…”
Worried, you outstretched your hand, but stopped short of touching his arm. “Sir?”
Lucifer’s eyes shot open instantly, turning his head to see you towering over him. He leapt from his chair completely startled and began stumbling backwards towards the fire pit.
“Watch out!” you warned, gripping his hand, and pulling him towards you. Lucifer held his breath, trying to process what had just happened. His head ended up flush against your chest, your face now feeling as hot as the flames in the pit. You let go of his hand and stepped away from him as fast as you could. Lucifer remained motionless. “I-I’m so sorry, your majesty! I didn’t mean for you to…I’m sorry!”
You finally heard Lucifer exhale. He stood up straight and fixed his wrinkled jacket, making every effort to not look you in the eyes.
“It’s alright, m-my dear,” he spoke softly, “no harm done. A-And please, call me Lucifer.”
“Okay. Lucifer,” you started, “I didn’t mean to startle you. I saw you over here and I heard what you said and…is everything alright?”
Lucifer was tense again. You noticed him clench his fists. “How much did you hear?”
“Not much,” you admitted. “you just sounded worried about something.”
The king let out a sigh, letting his hands relax. “Thank you for your concern, I-I appreciate it. It’s nothing…nothing that you need to trouble yourself with. It’ll be fine.” Lucifer waved his hand, a portal now swirling open behind him, leading to his bedroom. “I think we should both get some sleep now. And t-thank you for catching me. Although, fire can’t harm me…b-but I appreciate the rescue nonetheless!” He was about to step through the portal when you caught his hand once more.
“Wait,” you said quietly. Lucifer looked down at the ground, still refusing to meet your gaze. You frowned. “Sir-I mean Lucifer…I wanted to ask you something. I need to know.” You felt his hand squeeze yours; he was tense again. “I-I’ve been feeling like I’m not welcome here by you.” Lucifer finally lifted his head, his eyes almost piercing your soul. He looked distraught at your words. You never noticed how beautiful his eyes truly were, the soft yellow complimented his pure white skin nicely. You blushed slightly but shook your head and tried to remember what you were saying. “I-I just mean, you seem to avoid me every time I’m near. If I’ve done something to upset you, I’m very sorry. And if you’d rather I’d not stay here, then…”
“NO!” he shouted, now gripping your hand with both of his. “I-I mean, no. You haven’t done anything wrong! Please…Please don’t leave. I should be the one apologizing if that’s truly how you’ve been feeling. I never want you to feel unwelcome here, especially not from me. It…It’s just that…I…” Before he could finish his explanation, his eyes dropped for just a split second before returning to yours. His gaze had somehow shifted into a more panicked expression. He let go of your hands immediately and stepped through his portal in a hurry. “I-I have to go, I’m sorry!” You couldn’t get another word out before his portal disappeared from view.
You stood alone in the parlor, alone and confused. The fire had died out, and you felt a shiver down your spine at the realization of how cold it had gotten without it. But you couldn’t let the conversation end there. You needed to know what was going on with him. You wouldn’t sleep until you did. Luckily, Lucifer’s room at the hotel was very easy to find.
You made your way up to his tower, replaying the scene in the lobby over and over in your head. Things were going well, weren’t they? He seemed so apologetic when you told him how you felt. And then he just…disappeared like he always does. You really didn’t mean to push the issue, but maybe you came on a little strong. Plus, your rescue of him was a little more than awkward. Not that you minded the closeness, even if it was fleeting. The picture of his head resting against your chest flashed in your mind repeatedly. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks once more now that you were now mere steps from Lucifer’s door.
Focus, you mentally scolded yourself, can’t think about that. It was an accident! It won’t happen again so just…focus. No wonder he ran!
You stood in front of his door now, your knees somehow weaker than they were a moment ago. Those mental images really didn’t help at all. With a deep inhale, you went to knock, but you stopped short when you heard something from beyond the door. You heard your name.
What?, you thought, How…How did he know I was here? Lucifer didn’t sound angry fortunately, but the inflection in his voice made him sound almost sad. And…breathless? You cracked open the door slowly, a little embarrassed at being caught. You went to open your mouth to apologize for the intrusion, but not even a whisper left your lips. Because what you saw in that room left you completely and utterly frozen where you stood.
Lucifer, the great ruler of Hell, was propped up against the obscene amount of pillows on his bed with his pants pooled at his ankles, his very much erect dick in his hand. His eyes were shut, he hadn’t seen you catch him in this extremely vulnerable state.
Run, run, run, RUN! your mind screamed. Everything in your brain was telling you to shut that door and get out of there as fast as you could. But your body refused to react, you remained motionless. You were completely entranced by the scene before you. You watched as Lucifer stroked his cock, mumbling a number of curse words with your name leaving his lips like a prayer.
“Hnng, G-God damn it-ffffuuuccckk….” Lucifer mumbled, his hand gradually picking up the pace as he stroked his shaft.
You tried to wrap your head around what you were seeing, but you were coming up blank. You couldn't believe this. He’s…He’s touching himself…to me?!? How is this…? Why would he…? Your brain was a jumbled mess at this point. It was really beyond your comprehension. You felt tension pool in your stomach at the sight of him becoming undone at the mere thought of you. The sinful sounds he was making went straight between your thighs, to the point where it became uncomfortable that you weren’t giving yourself any attention. The tiniest bit of you wanted to push open that door and give him what he really desired. But before you even begin to think about acting on your carnal instincts, you watched Lucifer's hips bucked up as he came all over his hand. It took every fiber of your being to hold in a whimper that threatened to escape your throat.
Lucifer’s breathing was labored, you watched him toss his arm over his eyes and throw his head back on the pillows. "What the hell is wrong with me?!" you heard him ask. "Why am I doing this?! It’s been months now and I’ve barely had a normal conversation with her! And of course, the only time I’ve really talked to her was after my damn head was forced against her…her…s-shit.” He waved his hand, a tissue appearing between his fingers. You watched as he cleaned himself up, thankful that he still hadn’t looked towards his door. Lucifer kicked himself out of his pant and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his head hanging low. “And what an absolutely fantastic exit I made! “Sorry, gotta go! My dick is hard as a rock right now because of you!” Great job, Lucifer! No wonder she thinks I don’t want her here!” He sighed heavily. “I can’t do this anymore. This isn’t right. I need to stop being a coward and just tell her how she makes me feel…”
A small gasp escaped your lips.
Fuck.
Lucifer's head shot up immediately, his panicked eyes fixating on the door. You didn't even close it behind you as you took off sprinting down the hall, praying to anyone who could hear you that he didn't see you. You didn’t stop running until you made it back to your room, slamming the door behind you. Your knees gave out from under you as you dropped to the floor. In that second, it all clicked for you. Why Lucifer avoided you at every turn, why he tripped over his words when he spoke to you, and why he practically begged you not to leave the hotel.
Lucifer liked you. Lucifer really liked you. That thought alone could have made you scream if you weren’t trying desperately to hold yourself together. And it’s not like you didn’t have passing thoughts about him. He was gorgeous after all. But not only that, you saw how he acted with the others at the hotel. He was sweet, and silly, and fun, even though you never got to experience it firsthand. Now you knew where Charlie had gotten it from.
But of course, those thoughts never stayed. He didn’t like you, right? So instead of wallowing in what could never be, you thought it best not to dwell. But now…now those thoughts were coming back in full force. The aching between your legs only grew as the very fresh images of Lucifer naked and moaning in his bed flooded your mind.
There was a knock at the door.
“H-Hey,” you heard Lucifer’s voice on the other side, “it’s me. Can we talk?”
You didn’t dare move. You hid your head in your lap, pleading silently that he would give up and go away.
You heard him sigh. “I can see your shadow, you know.”
God damn it…
Slowly you rose from the floor, your trembling hand latching onto the doorknob. But your brain wouldn’t let you turn it no matter how hard you tried. How could you possibly face him after what you saw?
“Please?…”
The way he sounded so desperate; it was impossible not to give in. With a heavy sigh, the doorknob turned and you cracked open the door just enough to see Lucifer standing just outside, his glassy eyes looking into yours. You looked away immediately.
“Hi…” you whispered staring down at the ground.
He lowered himself in an attempt to get you to look at him again. “Can I come in?”
You nodded, opening the door inch by inch until he was able to step inside. You shut the door behind him, folding your arms over your body. You still hadn’t looked at him. The silence between you two was deafening, but you knew he wasn’t going to leave until you talked.
“I’m so sorry!” you both shouted simultaneously. “Wait, what?”
"Hold on now!" Lucifer interjected, "You have nothing to apologize for!"
"Of course I do!" you retorted. "I invaded your privacy when I watched...uhh, n-never mind." When you glanced in his direction, his entire face almost matched the pink circles on his cheeks. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him any longer. "I-It was an accident! I came up to apologize for scaring you off again. But...I heard you call my name a-and I just assumed you already knew I was outside, so I opened the door and...I'm so sorry, I should have knocked, and I should have left immediately…I-"
You didn't notice Lucifer make his way towards you, throwing his hands onto your shoulders and snapping you out of your spiral. "Hey, no more of that," he soothed. "I'm not angry, and I didn't come here to scold you. This is all on me."
You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes. "B-But..."
"My dear, this is my fault, not yours," Lucifer cut you off, bringing his thumb up to cheek to wipe a tear that had fallen. He realized how close he'd gotten to you in his attempt to calm you down. Flustered, he stepped back, folding his arms over his chest. You already missed the closeness. "If you'd let me, I'd like to apologize and, you know, at least attempt to explain myself. Not that what happened was excusable. But if you'd rather I leave now, I'd more than understand. And I don't expect your forgiveness. I...just thought it best to apologize to you directly instead of continuing to avoid you and pretending like nothing happened. I'm deeply and truly sorry for everything."
You felt the sincerity in his words, and you saw the pain in his face thinking he had hurt you. You couldn't let him leave. Not yet.
"Stay...please..." you managed to respond. You made your way over to your bed and gestured for him to follow. You sat down crossed legged near the edge of the bed, Lucifer mirroring your actions. You took a deep breath before speaking once more. "I'm not angry with you either, you know."
A strange mixture shock and confusion flashed across Lucifer's face. "Y-You're not?"
You smiled wearily. "No, I promise. I mean, I'm a little taken aback..." Lucifer winced. "...but not in a bad way! If anything, I feel...flattered, you know?" Your face burned at your own candor. A quick glance at him showed he felt the same heat in his own cheeks.
"R-Regardless," Lucifer cleared his throat, "it was still wrong of me. I could try to give excuses about...my ex-wife being gone for more than 7 years now, or tell you that watching you from afar just sparked something in me that I hadn't felt in God know how long, or..."
"You've been watching me?" you teased, flashing him a small grin.
"Shhhhit, well, I uhh...only sometimes!" Lucifer tried to reason. "A-And not for very long! I just, umm, I just noticed how kind you are with everyone you come into contact with, and you're extremely helpful when it comes to the hotel! And your smile...I MEAN, uhh, C-Charlie absolutely adores you with the way she goes on and on about your progress! We both wonder how you even ended up down here in the first place. And well, you...you're," he gulped, "you're the most beautiful creature I've ever laid my eyes on..."
You sat there frozen, your body trembling slightly. Your mind raced a million miles a minute. You tried to get your mouth so form any sort of words, but nothing. Lucifer started to panic.
"I-I'm sorry! That was really forward of me! I shouldn't have-I uhh...God, this is the worst fucking apology imaginable!" Lucifer brought his hands to his face, covering his eyes and lowering his head. "Maybe it would be best if I just g-MMPH!"
You don't know what came over you, but somehow your lips crashed into Lucifer's. His hands flew from his face, now gripping the bed sheets beneath him. He sat perfectly still, but only for a moment. He couldn't help but give into you, letting his eyelids flutter closed and melting under the kiss. You pulled away after only a few seconds, Lucifer leaning his head forward slightly, still needing more. His crimson irises had grown into saucers, his face hot as the sun. Having the literal King of Hell flustered beyond belief from a single kiss was a sight you absolutely wanted to see more of.
"If you think I'm beautiful, then you are someone who is beyond beauty, your majesty," you cooed. You weren't completely sure where this sudden burst of boldness had sprung from, but you liked it. And from what you were witnessing, all signs pointed to Lucifer being completely enamored with it as well.
You went back to your seated position, but now Lucifer was on all fours, crawling ever so slowly towards you. "P-Please..." he begged, "I-I need more..." His face was now mere inches away. He rested his forehead on yours, waiting for your lips to touch his again. The faint smell of apples that hugged his skin was intoxicating.
"You want me to kiss you again?" you asked playfully. "Then you need to tell me something, darling."
Lucifer's breathing had picked up at the sound the pet name you'd given him, his eyes screwed shut. "A-Anything!"
"Tell me then," you said as you began to stroke his soft blond hair, "what were you thinking about when you were touching yourself to me?"
Lucifer whimpered against you. "Anything but that! Please! I-I can't..."
You pulled your forehead away from his, still patting his hair. "I think it's a little too late to be shy now, my king."
A low moan escaped Lucifer's throat as he inched towards you once again. "I...I was thinking...about how wonderful you would taste on my tongue...." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I was thinking about how...how pretty your lips would look around my cock." A kiss to your left cheek. "I was thinking about watching you...fuck...watching you ride my cock until I have nothing left in me." A kiss to your right cheek. "But mostly...I was thinking about how badly I want you to be mine..."
Your lips met once more, and with even more vigor than before. His devilish tongue swiped against your bottom lip, begging to delve in further. When your lips parted, your tongues had clashed with such voracity that it had knocked you down onto you bed, Lucifer now completely overtaking you. His hand found the back of your head and pulled you closer into the kiss which you didn't even think possible. With his body completely flat on top of you and even through your robe, it didn't take long for you to notice a certain bulge pressing against your stomach. You chuckled lightly, causing Lucifer to pull away, knowing exactly what you had felt.
"Ha...sorry...my uhh, my body has a mind of its own," he laughed nervously. "If this is too much for you, w-we can slow down. Or just stop completely! It's...It's been a while for me a-and I don't want you to be uncomfortable..."
You placed your hand on his shoulder and gently guided him off of you, putting him on his knees. In an instant, you tossed your robe to the side, revealing your cute black nightgown that left very little to the imagination. Lucifer sucked in a breath as he frantically started shedding his own clothes as well, removing his jacket and dress shirt in a manner that really emphasized his desperation for you. You couldn't help but stare at his bare chest and how it almost glistened in the faint lighting of your room.
"Do you think you're the only one who's body is reacting to this?" You shoved him down gently onto his back, his head now resting against your pillows. "But instead of just telling you, why don't you see for yourself?" You crawled up his body, dragging yourself against home until you straddled his chest.
"Oh, fuck me..." Lucifer almost inaudibly. He snaked his hands up the skirt of your nightgown until his hands reached them hem of your panties. He looked up at you expectantly, and with a final nod from you, you felt him tug your underwear down your legs. He pulled them down slowly, lifting one leg out first and kicking them off with the other. You gazed at him seductively, your glistening entrance now mere inches away from waiting lips. Lucifer's hands grazed up your thighs before stopping just before where you needed him most. Lucifer's breath hitched.
"It's alright," you reassured him. "Touch me. Please, Lucifer..."
"Ahh, wait!" Lucifer stopped his movements entirely. With a quick snap of his fingers, you heard your door lock itself. "We don't want another incident now, do we?"
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his theatrics, but it made you giggle, nonetheless. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're stalling!"
Lucifer laughed. "My sweet angel, if you've learned anything about me in last few minutes, it's that I couldn't wait another second longer for you even if I tried."
With those words, you felt his fingers finally find their way to your folds. It was like an electric shock had coursed through your entire body when he touched you. He'd barely begun and you were already soaking wet. His thumb found your clit instantly as he began to rub small circles around it, sending wave after wave of pleasure. You lifted your hips slightly so his figures could push their way inside of you. Words couldn't begin to describe how good he felt. He told you himself that it had been some time since he'd been with anyone, but there was no indication of this being the case as his two digits pumped in and out of you at a steady pace. He knew exactly what he was doing. You whimpered when you felt him pull his fingers out of you, only to watch him dip them into his mouth, cleaning off your slick entirely. "God, you're more delectable than I could have ever imagined! Please, let me taste you, all of you..."You blushed hard and nodded. You scooted yourself up further, hovering directly over his lips. "Still too far..." you heard him say before his hands latched onto your hips and forced you down so you were seated firmly on his face.
"L-Lucifer!" you cried weakly, trying to pull yourself up. You knew it was futile though. Damn him and his angelic strength.
"You won't hurt me, darling, I promise," he said with a wink. "Besides, breathing is overrated..." You felt his forked tongue immediately dart in and out of your drenched pussy. Your broken moans filled the room as he ate you out like it was his last meal. Lucifer switched between tongue fucking you and sucking on your sensitive nub at a relentless pace. That coil in your stomach was tightening with each movement he made.
"Lu-Luci-fer, o-oh my God, f-fuck, I-I can't." You tripped over every other word that left your lips. Your body started to tremble and your thighs shook violently as you felt your impending orgasm. "I-I'm gonna c-cum, gonna cum, oh SSHHHIIIIITTT-FUCKFUCKFUCK C-CUMMING!" You cried out helplessly as you felt your walls clench around nothing, your juices spilling out onto Lucifer's more than eager tongue. He rode you through your orgasm, lapping you up and not wanting to waste a single drop. You felt him release his hold on your hips so you could at last move back down to his chest. You stared at him wide eyed as he looked back at you with the biggest smile you've ever seen. You felt the heat rise up your neck and cheeks as you watched him lick up the rest of your release that hung on his chin.
"W-Wow, that was...fuck, that was amazing," Lucifer sighed. "Are you alright?"
"I-I'm fine," you breathed, "more than fine. You...really know how to use that tongue of yours." Lucifer flashed you a toothy grin like he had just told you the worst joke imaginable. You wanted to hide your face but damn it, he was too adorable when he looked at you like that!
"Well, you got your first wish. Allow me to grant your next one..." You shimmied down his body until your face lingered above the very obvious strain in his pants. "Let's make you more comfortable shall we?" You unhooked his belt in mere seconds, his pants following soon behind, leaving him in nothing but his briefs that already had a large wet spot in the front.
Lucifer managed to prop himself up on his forearms, his blush spreading to his entire face. "Sweetheart, y-you don't have to do that, I'm fiii-iiiiii-oooh fffffuck..." Lucifer's protest were cut short when you had brought your hand up to palm his very apparent erection through his shorts.
"Now that's hardly fair, Luci," you scolded him, "I think I deserve my fill too, don't you?" Before Lucifer could choke out an answer, you hooked your fingers along his waistband and pulled his briefs all the way down his legs, freeing his painfully hard cock at last. You stopped for a moment to marvel at his length, having to stop yourself from drooling. "O-oh wow, that's umm...that's big..."
Lucifer chuckled nervously above you. "Y-Yeah, sorry about that. I think? Like I said, y-you don't have to-GAAHHH!" Without warning, you delicately gripped Lucifer's shaft, stroking it lethargically. Even though you were moving as slow as possible, the king was already a moaning mess. "S-Shit, you-fuck...feels so good..."
"Is this what you imagined, your highness?" you cooed, now rubbing your cheek against his cock in tandem with your hand. "I wanted to help you out earlier, you know that? When I saw you stroking yourself, I almost pushed opened that door so I could give you what you really wanted. But hey, better late than never!" You chuckled lightly as you licked up his shaft to the very sensitive head of his cock. The taste of his precum was addicting, you craved more. Lucifer writhed under your touch as his whimpers became music to your ears. You circled your tongue around the tip, earning a guttural moan from the man beneath you. You glanced up and noticed Lucifer's eyes were squeezed tight, with his claws digging into your sheets.
"Look at me," you ordered him while you continued to pump his cock. His chest rose and fell faster and faster as he forced his eyes open. "Good boy. I want you to keep your eyes on me." You smiled at him wickedly as you parted your lips and sunk down on his shaft.
"A-AHHH, OOOH FUCK!," Lucifer yelped as he fought against throwing his head back in pure bliss. Your warm mouth enveloped him, the taste of him was nothing short of divine. Your head continue you bob up and down, taking as much of him as you could. Lucifer was a blabbering mess, only able to make incoherent noises. His ability to think had all but disappeared. All he could focus on was the immense pleasure your sinful tongue was providing. His breaths became shallow as your mouth lingered on his cock, refusing to move.
"I-I ca-FUCK...H-HOLY SHIT," Lucifer nearly screamed, his hips now bucking up uncontrollably, forcing you to take more and more of him. "CU-CUMMING, CUMMING...MMPH OHFUCKME!" With one final thrust, you felt his cock twitch, his hot seed filling your mouth. You sucked him off through his orgasm, taking in and swallowing every bit of cum he had. Once he'd finished, you finally let go with a small *pop*. You made your way up his body once more and hovered over his face with a giant grin. You opened your mouth to show him some cum you still had on your tongue before swallowing it down gleefully.
Lucifer's hands flew to his face immediately upon watching you. "I can't believe you just did that! How am I ever going to recover?!"
You laughed as you pulled his hands away from his face, leaning down to kiss him tenderly. He happily returned your kiss, his thumbs rubbing circles on your hips under your nightgown. Lucifer leaned his head back on the pillows and tugged at the hem. "May I?"
"Of course," you nodded. He helped raise your nightgown, lifting it up and easily tossing it over your head and onto the floor. You sat up straight, straddling his stomach and giving him a very nice view of your breasts. "I know you've already felt them once tonight, but I'll let you touch them again if you ask nicely."
"Oh, ha ha," Lucifer mocked playfully, "very funny. That was technically your fault! I didn't just lay on your chest for fun, you forced me there when you pulled me away from the fire!"
You smirked and took ahold of his wrists. "Do you want to touch my tits or not?"
"...Yes, please..."
Smiling, you brought his hands to your breasts. A soft hum emitted from both of you as Lucifer began to knead at your soft mounds, his thumbs running over your sensitive nipples. Suddenly, he started to roll them between his thumb and index fingers, causing you to squeak in surprise. He sat up quickly, pushing you back so that you were now kneeling on the bed and hovering over his thighs. He took one nipple into his mouth as he continued his ministrations on the other. You moaned at the sensation, taking your hand and holding the back of his head for support. He switched sides, making sure your other nipple got the same amount of attention. The feeling of his teeth grazing you nipple sent shivers down your spine.
"Luci," you whispered into his ear. "you had one more fantasy you told me about, did you not?" Lucifer pulled away from your breasts, his eyes wide and full of anxiety. You could feel his heartbeat racing as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.
"O-Only if you want to," his muffled voice reverberated off your skin.
"Yes, I do." You pushed Lucifer back down gently, noticing his cock was already hard again even without any further stimulation. "My, my, eager are we?"
"Very much so, yes," Lucifer whined.
"You're adorable, you know that?" you praised. Lucifer blushed hard and tried to cover his face once more before you pinned his hands above his head. "Don't you dare hide that pretty face from me, sweetheart. I want to see every single little cute expression you make once you're inside me." A small whimper left his mouth as you released your grip on his hands. You shifted yourself in order to line up your entrance with the tip of his cock, slowly rubbing it between your slick folds. "Are you ready?"
Lucifer gasped and threw his head back in response. "Y-Yes, please...need you...need to feel you..."
You began to sink down on his length, feeling him stretch you out beyond what you ever felt before. A beautiful mix of pain and pleasure coursed through you as you finally bottomed out on his cock, both of your moans echoing off the walls. Tears pricked your eyes as he filled you completely, as if you felt whole, now connected as one. You shifted your hips ever so slightly, but it was enough for Lucifer sit himself upwards and wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace.
"You really f-feel like heaven," Lucifer breathed. "P-Please...please say you'll be mine..."
A single tear drifted down your face, and your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest at any moment. You eagerly returned his embrace, wrapping your arms around him and bringing him as close to you as you possibly could. “I’m yours, Lucifer.” You cupped his face in your hands and brough your lips to his, sealing your promise. Feeling him twitch inside of you, you lifted your body off of him and gently sank back down. You swallowed Lucifer's moans as you continued your pace, bucking your hips and taking all of him with each sharp thrust. Lucifer's hands flew to your hips as he helped you up and down his aching cock.
"F-Fuck, y-you're killing me here, darling, I-HNNG...I'm close..." Lucifer sobbed was your pace became relentless. His hips were now rutting into you as he slammed you down onto him. Your eyes had crossed and drool began to pour down the side of your lips. You were absolutely and unashamedly cock drunk. The tightening in your stomach became almost unbearable, your release was fast approaching and so was his. "FFFFUUUUCCKK, g-gonna cum, g-gonna-ACK, c-can I?..."
"Inside L-Luci," you pleaded, "inside...fill me n-now-GAH F-FUCK, C-CUMMING!" Your walls clenched around his thick cock, pulsating relentlessly as Lucifer continued to pound into you making your vision blur. Your cries mixed with his as you felt him empty inside of you. The grip you had on him loosened as his wings suddenly sprouted out from behind him, catching you by surprise. Lucifer didn't seem to notice, too overtaken by his orgasm. He bit down on your shoulder harshly to keep himself from screaming while his hot seed continued to pour into you. Your muscles finally relaxed as you both came down from your highs. Lucifer's tongue lapped at the mark he had left on you, soothing the sore spot. But now that he'd given you your first mark, all you wanted to do was beg for more.
"S-Sorry about that," he smiled sheepishly. "I didn't mean to bite you so hard." He turned his head, finally noticing his ruffled wings. "O-Oh! Well...that's new."
You chuckled. "Your wings are beautiful, Lucifer." You ran your fingers over a few of his scarlet feathers; they were the softest things you've ever felt. His wing folded towards your touch, now almost fully engulfing the two of you. "Wait, are you apologizing for marking me? I'm yours, am I not? Now I have proof!"
Lucifer buried his face in your chest. "L-Love, you can't say things like that! You're gonna drive me insane!"
"Love?" you repeated.
He shot his head up in a panic. "I-uhh...is that okay?"
You kissed his lips tenderly. "It's more than okay, love."
You watched his wings puff up at your words, his smile wider than you've ever seen before. You then carefully pulled yourself from his lap and laid down ever so gently on his one set of wings while the other set wrapped around your body. Lucifer wrapped his arms around you once again, now feeling a double layer of protection and comfort.
"Thank you," he murmured against your ear.
"No, thank you," you whispered back. "It was wonderful, truly. And at least now I can stop worrying about whether or not you hate me!"
You heard a small hum leave Lucifer's lips. "That couldn't be further from the truth, my dearest." A placed a small peck to your forehead. "Do you...mind if I stay here tonight?"
You shook your head. "I wouldn't let you leave even if you wanted to," you teased. "You're mine now too." Fatigue flooded your body as you yawned and felt your eyelids fall. You snuggled your head against Lucifer's chest before unconsciousness had taken over.
"Forever," was the last thing you heard before drifting off to sleep in Lucifer's arms.
~~~
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WHY THIS ENDED UP BEING SO LONG IS BEYOND ME, HOPE YOU LIKE IT ANYWAYS!
Taglist: @ask-theradio-demon @kermitdafroggy @thonethatflies620 @luc1fersducky @a-okay-rj @bat-boness @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis @misfitgirlwrites @animationmovieshipps @orbitinglumps @ramenkitten @blaackbiird @bigfatbimbo @lucisaspen @bvnnyangel @seulace9 @fluffypinkpillows @starlightdreaming @k-n0-x @rosen-und-mondlicht @raindropsfromheaven @slutforlucifermorningstar @lola576 @ag-cookiebat800 @victoriousvic @rand0m-1diot @lonelynmisunderstood @cosmic-lavender @yourmom132 @liveontelevision @luci-lover-forever @lolalovesmorningstar @moonlight-readings @mel-windle @la-undercover-latina
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reilemon · 3 days
Text
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Under The Stars ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
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♡︎ pairing: Xavier x fem!reader
。°⚠︎°。MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)。°⚠︎°。
♡︎cw:unprotected sex, tent sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (male receiving), dry humping, pussy job, cum swallowing
♡︎word count: 3.9k
♡︎synopsis: What happens when you share a tent with your crush? The story starts where the memory Precious Bonfire ends.
♡︎a/n: I wrote this during my ovulation week. Also, I went over this once, so if you see any mistakes, no you don't.
♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this!
banner by @cafekitsune
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Xavier looks up from the game card “Ah, I figured out what I want my payment to be.” He smiles softly at you and hands you the card, “Tell me when you’re overwhelmed next time.”
A little confused, you absent-mindedly take the card that’s not even yours. “That doesn’t sound like a payment.”
“Well, it is.”
“No, it’s not. Think of something else!” You say with playfulness in your voice. Of course you don’t mind accepting to “pay him off” in this way, but he’s been so helpful and resourceful today, that you’d feel bad for asking for more assistance.
He just shakes his head and stands up from his seat in the camping van, and walks away. End of discussion, I guess.
୧ ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆
You spent a few minutes sitting alone in the van, decompressing, but also thinking of ways to return the favor. Seriously, what’s a good way to show him your gratitude? You know he’s not doing this because he expects something in return. Xavier is a genuine and sweet soul, someone who is reliable (except in the kitchen) with a soothing presence. He never seems overwhelmed, even when he lights his oven on fire.
You sigh wistfully. You were hoping he was going to say “Let’s go on a date!” or “Can I sleep in your tent?” or maybe “You know, the front of my pants is feeling a little tight, could you lend me a hand –“ you blush, hiding your face in your hands. If only.
You glance at your phone to look at the time. You decide you’ve spent enough time away from everyone, letting your mind wander – how big is it? – okay, you really need to focus and go back to your colleagues.
୧ ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆
The rest of the evening went uneventful – you hung out with your friends, cleaned up the mess and then took a relaxing shower. Somewhere between cleaning up and the shower, you swiped a pack of chocolate covered strawberries from the mafia game winner. You wanted those strawberries the moment your eyes landed on them in that pile of snacks.  And you’ll buy them later and give them back, so technically you’re borrowing them!
Besides, you want to give them to Xavier as a small thank you. He deserves more than this, but it will do for now.
Anyway, after the refreshing shower, you’re looking around the campsite. Most of your colleagues are cozying up in their tents, only a few still talking and drinking outside. Where’s Xavier?
You saw him earlier hanging out with others, but now… your eyes land on his figure, lounging by a tree away from all the tents.
You approach him. “There’s no way I’m letting you sleep outside.”
Xavier, not opening his eyes, says “I have no problem sleeping outside.”
“Well, as the captain of this group, I very much do.” You extend your arm towards him “C’mon, you can sleep in my tent.”
He opens his eyes as he hears the offer. “Are you – “
You grab his hand, “Yes, the tent is big enough for the two of us.” You suddenly remember that you only brought one blanket, but this summer night is nice and breezy so it shouldn’t be an issue.
Hesitant at first, Xavier nods and gets up while holding your hand. He moves his backpack to your tent and goes to take a shower, giving you time to change into pajama shorts and tank top; not really appropriate in this situation, but who cares!
As you spread out the blanket over the sleeping mat and two pillows, (yes, two, the other one was meant for your knees), you sit there waiting for him and then you realize – wow, it’s kinda fucking cold in here!
You were so focused on being a good captain and taking care of everyone that it completely slipped your mind that you should pack warmer pajamas and maybe a sleeping bag; it doesn’t matter that it’s summer, nights are always colder in the woods.
As you wonder if the blanket will be warm enough, from the corner of your eye you notice Xavier approaching the tent. He’s wearing a loose white t-shirt and gray cotton shorts. You move a little to make room for him, and when he crouches to step inside, your eyes are glued to his muscular legs. The staring makes you miss the way Xavier’s eyes take in your figure, the smooth skin of your thighs and your pebbled nipples poking underneath your top.
You quickly shift your gaze to his face; he’s looking around the tent. Suddenly you’re nervous. It hits you that you’ll be sleeping next to Xavier in this small ass tent. You feel an awkward tension, so you say “I hope this is enough room for you! I don’t have one more blanket but I do have an extra pillow!”
Xavier chuckles, and gives you a reassuring smile. “It’s good enough for me. I just hope you’re comfortable with this.”
“Of course I am!” You say very convincingly. As you nervously shift, your thigh grazes the box of strawberries. Right, I almost forgot! You take them and offer the box to him. “Here, a small token of my gratitude.”
He eyes the fruit, not taking them immediately. “Where did you get those?”
“The winner gave them to me.”
“Really?”
“I stole them.” You say with a shy smile. Some things are just impossible to hide from him.
He chuckles, “I’ll take them, but only if you have some as well.”
You agree and he opens the box, placing it between you two.
You’re the first one to try them, and you’re so pleased that your little crime paid off. And by Xavier’s little mm!  you know that he enjoys the sweetness of chocolate and the strawberries as well. You sit there for a while, eating and chatting about whatever; mostly about the books he’s been reading and the new game both of you started playing.
You don’t feel that tired anymore. It’s probably the shower that washed away all the fatigue of the day. And the adrenaline from talking, not only talking but sharing a tent and then later sleeping next to your crush. You’re actually so excited you could run laps around the campsite, but at the same time so flustered you don’t know what to do with yourself.
After you take another bite of the fruit, you notice that Xavier’s eyes are lingering on your lips? No, your cheek?
His hand slowly goes towards your face, and you stand still, unsure of what he wants. His ring finger gently wipes the corner of your mouth.
He smiles, “You had some chocolate there.”
When he’s about to lick his finger, you joke “Hey! You’re taking my chocolate!”
He stops for a second, looks at the finger, then at you. “You’re right. Do you want it back?” He asks with that teasing glint in his eyes as he holds the digit in front of your lips.
You’re stunned for a moment, trying to read the situation. Does he really want you to lick it off?
Okay, you can play along; with your eyes on his, you start to lick the chocolate. Xavier’s eyes widen for a split second, his lips slightly part as he watches you lick and suck his finger clean. It made his shorts tighter, and he hopes that you don’t notice the outline of his erection on his gray shorts.
And you’re so frustrated at yourself because of how wet this little interaction made you.
When you’re done, with a light blush on his cheeks, he pulls back his hand and clears his throat. “You’re really good at this.”
You only sheepishly smile and continue the conversation like nothing happened.  
୧ ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆
“You didn’t bring a sleeping bag?” Xavier asks as you as you both get ready to sleep. It’s gotten late, it’s dead silent as everyone around you is sleeping or trying to fall asleep. You’re surprised that Xavier managed to stay awake this long.
You admit that you forgot the fact that it’s colder at night here than back in the city. “But the blanket should be big enough for both of us.” You offer to go ask someone for one more blanket, but he refuses and says that he’s worried about you being cold.
His eyes scan over your barely covered body “I can borrow you my hoodie. But it smells like campfire.”
“I’m gonna to be fine. Let’s just go to sleep.” You reassure him (and yourself). With that, both of you lie down, your backs turned, and cover yourself with a blanket that is not enough for two people.
Xavier lets you take most of it, but tries to not make it obvious, so he holds onto it, only his back covered.
Ten, fifteen, maybe twenty minutes pass, you don’t know. You just can’t fall asleep. Not only because your ass is freezing, but because he is lying right next to you. And judging by his deep breathing, he’s asleep. Of course he is. You turn on your back and stare at the stars peeking through the mesh screen of the tent. You don’t want to move around too much or step outside because you don’t want to wake him. He’s had an exhausting day too.
You turn on your side, facing his back. You can’t see much in the dark tent, the only light source being the moon and the stars, and faint fairy lights outside. But it’s visible enough to admire his light fluffy hair and how wide his back is. You crave to trace your fingers over his shirt, through his hair… you completely took over the blanket!
You cover his figure, but then you’re a little exposed. With a sigh, you move closer to him as quietly as possible. Now, time to turn around in the same manner. But, Xavier is already switching to his other side, turning to you, and you’re so close, almost nose to nose and he opens his eyes.
You’re holding in your breath, freezing in place. “Sorry.” You whisper. “I just wanted to cover you.”
His sleepy eyes stare at yours, then at your lips. It takes him a second to register your words. “You’re still awake?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you cold?”
You take second before answering “Maybe.”
“Turn around.”
You do as you’re told expecting him to roll you into the blanket like a burrito and then you’d feel really bad. Those thoughts evaporate when you feel his warm arm slip around your waist, pulling your back against his strong, yet soft, chest, while his lower body keeps a respectful distance.
His breath tickles the skin of your neck, making you shiver. “Is this okay?”
You only muster a squeaky ‘mhm’, and then he falls silent again, with his face nuzzled against your neck. You close your eyes, and try to count sheep.
One sheep…two sheep… your arm gets uncomfortable so you place it over his that’s resting on your waist, the contact making his hand search your hand, entangling his fingers with yours, and then pulling you in a tighter embrace.
Exhaling a shuttering breath, you continue… three sheep… you’ve been keeping your legs pin straight this whole time and they’re starting to feel stiff and sore. But if you bend them, they’ll be exposed to cold air, but if you curl up you’ll be pressing your butt against Xavier’s crotch, or at least lower belly.
Four sheep…
The gentle whisper of your name against your ear makes you yelp. You thought he fell asleep.
Xavier repeats your name, and you can hear the smirk on his lips “Position yourself however you please. I want you to be comfortable.”
You exhale a breath you’ve been holding. “Okay.”
You move into the fetus position, making yourself as comfortable as possible, warm in his embrace, your bottom keeping an awkward distance from his lower half.  You bite your bottom lip and try to regulate your breathing. He can probably feel how fast your heart is beating. You think how it’s unfair that he can feel how flustered you are.
You feel his slow heartbeat, but you can’t see his feverish red cheeks.
“Is it better now?” He asks.
“Yeah, it’s just that...” It’s just that your legs and buttocks are still cold.
When you don’t finish your sentence, he nudges your neck with his nose. “Your legs are cold.”
The hand on your waist moves and his fingers lightly glide over your upper thigh. When you don’t protest, he starts caressing, warming up your skin. The contact makes you hot between your legs, making you unconsciously rub your thighs and arch your back, your butt backing up against his front. 
You immediately flinch, jolting your middle forward outside the covers. “Sorry.” You mumble, your cheeks burning in embarrassment, your body staying in that awkward position.
Xavier can’t help but laugh at the position you’re in. He rubs your shoulder in an attempt to console you. “It’s okay. I don’t mind”
It takes you a few seconds to muster up the courage to go back under the cover, closing the distance between your bodies, letting him spoon you.
You feel like you could melt in his arms; he’s so warm, smells like fresh linen and herbal hair shampoo. Even though you’re still nervous, your body is able to relax and press further against him, unintentionally grinding your soft bottom against his quickly hardening length.
Your pussy clenches as you feel his clothed hard dick against you. He doesn’t say anything, but shift a little further from you.
You don’t know if it’s the weariness, the horniness, or the boldness (if you can call it that), that makes you whisper. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” And you close the distance again, this time slowly sliding your ass against him to prove your point.
A shuddering breath leaves his lips, as he starts moving at your pace. He shifts to rest on his elbow and his hand moves up to cup your cheek, and you turn to face him, your hips halting the movement.
He gazes into your eyes and nudges the tip of your nose with his. He softly breathes your name and his soft warm lips leave a feather light kiss on yours. He waits for your reaction with those puppy eyes that always make you weak.
With the hand that was under you, you hold the side of his face and pull him into a soft kiss. Your lips softly graze and nip as Xavier adjusts his body, elbows resting on either side of your head, his chest resting against yours, but his pelvis is hovering against yours.
You decide to be the one to take the next step; fingers of one hand run through his hair as you deepen the kiss, your tongue glosses his bottom lip and slipping inside, tasting his. The other hand pushes down his lower back, and he takes the hint.
You gasp into the kiss as his dick grinds right between your clothed folds, grazing your clit just right. Your cheeks and core are burning as Xavier starts rutting waster and harder, you can feel his heartbeat pounding against your chest. Both of you are panting between kisses, suppressing moans and whines.
He breathes against your lips “We should stop.” When he notices a flash of disappointment on your face, he adds, “It’s so easy to hear everything here.”
You nod. “Yeah, you’re right.” You gulp and take in deep breaths. Your tent is the furthest from the rest, but still close enough to hear if someone is getting it on.
He rolls over to his side, still facing you. His eyes take in your features as his fingertips graze over them. He pulls you in by the back of your head into a slow kiss. Your lips taste each other, tongues licking, his teeth playfully nibbling your bottom lip.
The hand on the back of your hand travels over your jaw to hold your chin, and a deep sigh leaves his lips. He whispers, “It’s so hard to hold back.” and the continues tasting your plump lips.
Those words make your panties wetter than they were. You throw your leg over his hips and soon you’re straddling him, and his arms envelop you, pressing your body flush against his, his hips bucking up to meet yours once again.
But you crave more contact and so does Xavier. At the same time, Xavier pulls down his shorts and you take off yours. A whimper escapes your lips as you sit back down on his rock hard dick, your sexes only separated by thin fabric.
He pulls you into a deep, hungry kiss, his hands grabbing your ass, moving your hips in the same rhythm with his. The friction feels so good, too good. Your pussy is creaming so much, making a mess of your panties and his boxer briefs. Then he shifts his hips a little and his cockhead starts hitting and rubbing your clit over and over, and you’re mewling and panting into the sloppy kiss.
He smirks against your lips. “Honey, I need you to stay quiet. I don’t want anyone else to hear you like this.”
The heat pools in the bottom of belly. “Xavier, I’m close.”
“Yeah? Is my little bunny feeling good?” He pants, and by the twitching of his cock, you think he’s close too.
You hold back a disappointed whine when he puts a distance between your hips, but then you feel him push down his boxers freeing his throbbing dick. He pulls your panties to the side and brings your hips back down, your dripping pussy lips sliding against his thick length, and he immediately locks your lips with his, swallowing your moan.
He has you in a tight embrace, one hand on the plump flesh of your ass and the other on the back of your neck. His lips leave a wet trail from your lips over your jaw to the shell of your ear, and you listen to his restrained pants and grunts.
His hot breath fans over your ear “Let’s come together.” He pulls up both of your shirts a bit, and you feel his hard ab muscles tensing against your skin.
You can only nod as the tip starts hitting your clit again, and in a few seconds you’re coming undone on top of him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, muffling your moans.
Xavier follows shortly after, his cum spilling over both of your bellies.
You take a moment to calm down and you notice that he’s still as hard. You come up to meet his gaze.
His eyes are veiled with so much lust and craving. “I – “
“Please, fuck me.” You need more.
With those three magic words, he’s on top of you again, his shirt and the blanket disregarded somewhere in the corner. He pushes your tank top over your breasts, his hot lips latching onto your nipple while his fingers play with the other one, while his cock is sliding with ease between your slippery folds.
You know that he wants to prep you more, but you feel like you’ve been edged for too long, your hole clenching around nothing.
Xavier’s breath hitches against your nipple when you reach down and wrap your hand around his member, feeling how long and thick he is (he’s longer than your thought).
He comes up and holds your gaze as you tease the tip against your soaking entrance “I need you now.”
His hand switches with yours, slowly easing into you, his gaze never leaving yours. He swallows thickly, and cursing under his breath as he feels your walls clench around him.
And you’re a mess under him, biting your lip to contain your moans and whines, but your pussy is already fluttering around his length, second orgasm building up.
When he’s finally buried to the hilt, he rests his body on top of yours, neither of you caring about the slippery cum between you, if anything it spurs you on even more.
He slowly starts rolling his hips, his lips leaving open mouth kisses over your collar bone and your neck. You fingers find purchase in his hair and nails lightly scrape the skin over his taut back muscles. In your daze you take a moment to admire his strong back and then you move your hand from his back to grab his biceps. Fuck, you wish there was more light here.
Xavier’s lips lock with yours in a sloppy kiss, his tip grazing your sweet spot with every thrust while his fingertips rub your sensitive bundle of nerves. His voice is raspy from all the strangled groans, “You’re squeezing me so hard, princess. Are you gonna come for me?”
You only manage a small moan in response, and you don’t even care if you’re loud. And the wet smacking of his pelvis against your creamy cunt is already giving you away.
You barely give any warning as suddenly another orgasm crashes over you, his free hand covering your mouth. He coos in your ear that’s right and you’re so pretty and sweet names that you barely register as you whimper against his hand and your pussy spasms around his cock.
As you come down from your high, he picks up the pace and soon you notice him twitching inside you, his hips stuttering and his pants becoming shallower.
He murmurs “Where do you want me?”
You fight back the urge to say ‘inside’, you want him to fill you up so bad, but now is not the place to make that kind of mess.
Still, you don’t want spill it outside. “Use my mouth.”
His face burns and his dick painfully throbs at those words. You rest on your elbows as he pulls out and straddles your waist, his hand resting on your head.
You let him guide the tip past your lips, and you swirl your tongue around it tasting your mixed juices. He swallows a moan as you take him in deeper; swollen lips enveloping his cock, tongue swirling, tasting him, and grazing his pulsing veins, and he can’t help the pang of jealousy that hits him with how good you’re at this.
Pushing those thoughts back, he caresses your cheekbone with his thumb. “You’re taking me so good.”
He starts thrusting, unable to hold back much longer. He whispers between pants “Tap my arm if I go too hard.”
You hum against his length, focused on relaxing your throat as his cockhead starts hitting more and more with each thrust and stutter of his hips.
You feel him throb hard in your mouth, and his hand travels under your chin. You hear him demand with a strangled groan “Look at me.”
Your eyes lock with his, the sight of you sucking him in with a fucked-out face making him tip over the edge, filling your mouth with his hot cum.
He takes shaky breaths as he twitches in your mouth as you suck him and swallow each drop, not letting anything go to waste.
After he pulls out, he sits next to you and gives you a chaste kiss on the lips.
He holds your face in his hands, his nose nudging yours. “Are you okay?”
You nod and kiss him again. And then you feel cold air hit the wet spots on your body. You chuckle “We need to get cleaned up, though.”
With that, you wipe yourselves with wipes and dress up to make an awkward walk towards the bathroom. You just hope that no one heard what you were doing in the tent. Or the shower.
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fairyhaos · 2 days
Text
seventeen as their songs' choreographies
pls i binged their dance practices and then suddenly i was like "hey this wld make a good hc!!!!" so here we are. here's which svt song choreo (specifically just the dance movements) i think each member would be
masterlist
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seungcheol
super. no, it's not just bc of the fits and stylings that he had during the comeback stages that he absolutely slayed, but the choreography itself feels weirdly like scoups: the power, the confidence and the martial arts-esque moves feel like him
jeonghan
fear. maybe a bit unexpected, but the choreo is almost dangerously beautiful and very jeonghan. it's the kind of beauty that's like watching someone's destructive downfall and being unable to look away
joshua
dream. he's just having so!!!! much!!!! fun!!!! during the choreography video but also. it's so fucking CUTE and makes me think of him like?? the swaying arms and the little bobbing up and down is adorable and He's adorable and oh lord i need to have a lie down bc it's just too cute
junhui
aju nice. the chaoticism of the choreo which looks all whirlwind-crazy before you realise that their cohesiveness is actually incredible is such a junhui thing actually. it's such a bright and messy and energetic choreo in the most polished way
hoshi
crush. the choreo has kinda gay, kinda sexy vibes and they make use of really clever positioning in triangles/ parallel lines to give it a really sleek, powerful feel. honestly it just feels like it has hoshi written all over it
wonwoo
thanks. so much of the choreo makes me think of waves crashing and falling—the canon movements, the arms, the rising and falling actions—and there's something so heart-wrenching and powerful about it.
woozi
hitorijanai. the slow gentleness, the delicacy, the arm movements that seem to connote something gentle and opening up to the world all make me think of him. woozi has always been like a fairy in my eyes, and this choreo embodies exactly that
minghao
don't wanna cry. the synchronisation and canon moves are off-the-charts levels of gorgeous. also the way they tell the story with mostly only their arm movements is mesmerising and beautiful and so elegant and yearning that it reminds me of minghao
mingyu
left & right. the choreography is just so fun to look at. like, you watch them dancing and you genuinely get an exhilarated feeling of utter joy bc the choreo is so fresh and fun and idk it just feels like a mingyu-esque dance to me
dokyeom
anyone. genuinely could Not take my eyes off this guy in particular whilst watching the choreo vid n it's bc he makes the moves look so clean, esp that part where they move the movement from the arms into the legs??? literally gorgeous.
seungkwan
mansae. the choreography is sharp and fresh and clean and sooo bright. you can positively feel the groove in the movements alone, and the way they change formation so seamlessly with such sharpness is such seungkwan vibes
vernon
clap. iconic dance practice moment aside, this rlly is unironically vernon cuz it's just such a funny and fun choreo. that part where they almost crawl across the floor has me giggling every time and the amount of body shaking is so funny to me
chan
_world. it's just- it's just a cute song with the cutest choreo ever. i don't know why it makes me think of chan oh lord but the little skippy steps that they do and the adorable hip popping is just soooo so dino coded to me
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Also, I would like to add that Malleus’s blatant disregard for the autonomy of others and fits of rage is DELIBERATE on his end. Being one of the top five mages in the entire world, I am sure that he KNOWS there is a large disparity between his power/social and the rest of the peers/subordinates etc. His sheer and utter confidence in his abilities to get what he wants and general disregard for others isn’t only an indicator of his awareness about this disparity, but is also a reflection of the abuses of his power AND social status as a whole.
In light of his age, imagine the amount of times he has repeated these mistakes despite others advice and criticisms against his choices. Only Ace has been able to overcome others general reverence and fear towards Malleus when it came to calling him out. He is not an innocent person who is ignorant about the ways of humanity verses faes, and is certainly not the innocent character the fandom (especially those who are infatuated by him) think he is.
[Referencing this post!]
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***Standard disclaimer: In sharing my thoughts, I do not mean to disparage Malleus fans. Furthermore, me disliking him should not detract from your own enjoyment of the character. If you do not feel comfortable reading about this topic (ie critique of Malleus’s character), then I encourage you to scroll on and to not engage with this post.***
My thoughts below the cut!
I do feel that, to some degree, the disregard for others and inappropriate fits of rage come from blatant ignorance (since Malleus did have a very isolated and sheltered upbringing). However, it's also hard for me to believe that in his 178 years of living that he was NOT told countless times by those around him (mostly Lilia and his grandmother, Maleficia) to wield his power and social status more tactfully than how he has. Did he take none of those lessons to heart??? What about the 2-3 years he spent living among the non-fae at NRC? Nothing from then too?? Regarding self-awareness of his strength and social status, Malleus has made it clear on more than one occasion that he stands above others. Right from his first appearance in the main story (in book 2), it's implied he's well aware of his position--so much so that he deliberately hides his identity from Yuu. He also cannot propose to Eliza in Ghost Marriage because he is the crown prince of a nation. Time and time again, Malleus's status is mentioned and it plays into his importance as the sole heir to Briar Valley. He must also know he is powerful, given that he is one of the top 5 strongest mages in the world and can perform incredible feats (like reassembling a stage and walking through Vil's poisonous miasma in book 5) like they're nothing. His grandmother and Lilia tell him the Draconias are powerful and shouldn’t use their magic to harm, but to help those they rule over. Yet he seems to have surprisingly few qualms when turning these powers against people who are only at a fraction of his power (Rook, his dorm mates, everyone in the Scalding Sands trip group, Ortho, etc.) or have no magic at all (remember when he attacked those civilians in Terror is Trending and the other Diasomnia students had to restrain him?). Malleus may be emotional in these moments, but the fact remains that he's making the deliberate, intentional choice to wield his magic in this way. He has the ability to hold himself back (as we see him refrain from fighting Rook in Malleus's PE Uniform vignette, only because he knows Rook is baiting him), but the vast majority of the time he fails to do this. For someone who is acutely aware of his power, you'd think he would... I don't know, keep a better leash on it? And what about his identity? So Malleus is concerned about Sebek insulting Leona (the prince of another country) but he ISN'T concerned about how his own fits of anger poorly reflect on himself, who is the CROWN PRINCE of a country??? Please make that make sense... Why is Malleus so selective 💀
I'm actually quite shocked at how little Malleus's pride and arrogance is pointed out; it's usually Leona who gets those labels even though Malleus is also just as arrogant, prideful, and confident in his own powers. Most of the time, I feel like I see Malleus being called "innocent". Maybe his negative traits on display get overlooked because TWST tries so hard to present Malleus to us as someone we are supposed to like (especially with how often they use his overpoweredness or loneliness is used as a punchline for jokes). Our interactions with Malleus are also so few and so short, particularly early in the main story, that fan project their own ideas about what he's like onto him and that forms a certain “image” of him that may not be the same as how he actually is. Him being lonely makes it easy for fans to perceive him as desperate for company and even easier for fans insert themselves as his “special” friend or S/O to fill the void.
It's... quite ironic, really? Malleus says in Riddle's Suitor Suit vignettes that he is familiar with the concept of "noblesse oblige", which is the implied duty of the privileged and nobility to act gracefully towards those less privileged. Yet... he is sometimes overstepping "fae playfulness" or "teenage childishness/immaturity" and continuously creating situations which put people around him in danger (all of Endless Halloween Night, not holding back his attacks against the Magicam Monsters, all the times he let his temper get out of control, book 7 OB, etc.) When defending the extremes he took in book 7 by citing his status and his UM, Malleus has this to say, which is very telling of his lucidity: "Monitoring? Meddling? Heh, how silly. It's a king's duty to govern, is it not? I'm watching over you. To ensure no nightmares befall you in the fairy tales you now reside in... To ensure you have happy dreams that last forever!" It's implied that Malleus's grandma has told him since childhood that their line has powerful magic to protect their people's smiles--and here he is, overextending those words to people that aren't even his subjects, and twisting the meaning to justify his own brutal rule.
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What I noticed is... Malleus is often so oriented on seeing the situation from his POV that he fails to consider those from any entity aside from himself. In Endless Halloween Night, he feels sorry for the ghosts who showed up late and were left out of the festivities because he can relate to them, so therefore he wants to make sure they are included. In book 7, Malleus fears his loved ones leaving and projects this fear onto everyone else so he feels right in being the one coming in to be their "hero" and grant them happy endings they never asked for. In his own Dorm Uniform vignettes, Malleus frames the circumstances as, "I wouldn't be mad if you did the same thing to me" instead of listening to his peers' complaints. He centers problems around himself (which admittedly is very frustrating to me), and this is how Malleus tries to understand and navigate the world. This gives me the impression that he has a very particular way of thinking and it's perhaps difficult for him to understand others, even with extensive pointers.
I truly believe Malleus is ignorant about humans and fae. That much matches up with what we know of his history. What I do NOT get is why he continues to remain ignorant when 1) he has spent a few years exposed to non-fae and their ways; even if this pales in comparison to the 175ish other years of his life, he should have some new basis for appropriate social interactions with other races, and 2) most of the major adult figures in his life are exposing to him he should consider others' perspectives and try to learn more about that which he is unfamiliar with. Malleus has so many opportunities to expand his horizons and get to know new people, but he seems to sit around and keep waiting for others take the initiative for him. But he could initiate too, so why doesn't he???? (He has shown he is capable of it, as he approaches Deuce to fix his virtual pet and chatting with Idia about the same pet in the main story; if not by himself, then Lilia can easily assist or invite him into activities such as the Silk City trip.) Even if Malleus fails to socialize in a way that's considered appropriate, at least that's something he can learn from and correct for next time... But why doesn’t he????????? If he did, it would sure help out with his inability to empathize with his peers and could even curb his temper (which would be seen as socially inappropriate). So why exactly does he seem to know so little and make so little effort to try and rectify this???? Why does he keep postulating that his word is above everyone else’s and then get upset when people don’t like him for this very alienating attitude? Aaaaah, it's a sad cycle to witness him devolve into again and again... 😭
P. S. Bless Ace for being the one character who still held it against Malleus for the fucked up “prank” he pulled in Endless Halloween Night (and then convincing everyone the misunderstanding was their faults for “attacking the ghosts first”).
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himezoro · 2 days
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Hello!! Could you please do what it would be like to date Luffy?? He's my favorite character and I loved your Zoro headcanons!!
— tysm for requesting !! i've recently came back from my trip and still recovering from my mental breakdown lol, so writing for luffy aka my son is all i need <3 i hope it brings you joy and light ⋆˙⟡♡ i have other requests in my box and i promise to do them all, i won't let you down !!
ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴ : monkey d luffy's guide to relationship (check out roronoa zoro's guide here and here if you're interested)
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dating monkey d luffy would include :
endless, countless and heartfelt laughters. luffy is an outgoing and fun person to be around. he's always having fun on the way of making his dream come true, making each day bright and sunny. he won't be trying that hard to make their s/o laugh, his authenticity, fearlessness and lack of danger estimation would do the trick. but expect him to yell his s/o's name everytime he pulls a prank or tests his flexibility by making funny faces. if his s/o happens to be sad, he would also try his best to cheer them up by first, making them laugh to forget about their worry. when in bed with his s/o, he would let soft and intimate laughs escape his throat when talking to them or listening to their stories. laughing is an intimate and loving act according to luffy's guide.
physical touch. luffy's a sucker for hugs, tender gestures and pdas!! he has no shame hugging his friends like a koala, but with his s/o?? they would barely be able to breath lmao. luffy would sleep with his arms fully wrapped around his s/o's back, with his chin on the top of their head, sometimes, he would sleep on top of them with his whole weight just to show "how much he loves them", or with his head on their lap. anyway, luffy’s s/o is always at arms length thanks to his ability, much to his delight. the boy's clingy, but so adorable and natural about it. however, if their s/o needs some space, luffy would understand, although a bit saddened, so expect him to ask for a hug when they're ready. if their s/o really hates physical touch, it would be difficult for luffy to adjust (he's just a big soft plushie please take care of my baby)
receiving random compliments at random times. luffy's very honest and genuine, and even though he lacks real communication skills, he never lies. therefore, if he sees their s/o with a new outfit and he finds it nice, he will vocalize it in his words. "your coat is brown like a juicy steak, it looks tasty! you should wear it more often", "your hair looks like a cloud this morning", "your eyes sparkle like lasers!!".
him being involved in his s/o's hobbies/occupations. luffy is naturally curious. people often feel like he is pestering and "in the way", which can hurt his feelings, but he is genuinely interested in his friends' activities. he has so much admiration for them. but with his s/o? luffy would not only pester and ask what they're doing, he would also be trying to learn alongside them, with stars in his eyes. if their s/o's a fighter and fighting with a particular weapon or style, luffy would sit quietly and watch for some time, clapping his hands and feet at any random movements from their body, before joining and mimicking. if their s/o was reading or doing anything more intellectual or academic, luffy would sit by them, his arms crossed on the table and his head on top and listen to them talk and tell about what they're learning. if his s/o is patient and pedagogical, he would be so happy and confident enough to ask questions. he will then brag to usopp and chopper about his recent learnings with confidence and pride, saying how "(your name) taught me!!" (he will also turn around to his s/o to check if what he's saying is correct). it is very important for luffy to know what his s/o is doing and what they like, and for them to share their activities together. because on luffy's part, he would include his s/o in every single thing, even on shenanigans with usopp and chopper if they'd like.
hungry kisses and messy makeout sessions. the first kiss with luffy was soft, quick and intimate: a simple peck on the lips. also, at the beginning of the relationship, they were few, as the captain is more of a hugger. however, when his s/o would explain luffy that kisses could involve tongue, dear lord. luffy got insatiable. with his first french kiss, the move of his tongue got so messy he let some drool escape from his lips, trailing out from his s/o's lips. he also accidently bit his s/o's bottom lip so hard it stayed swollen for a couple of days. luffy would take note on his s/o's preferences and always surprise them with that one kiss that would leave them out of breathe and shaky. during make out sessions, not only his tongue would be insatiable, but his hands as well. this boy cannot stand still, he would trail his hands all over his s/o's body, especially the inside of their thighs or their ass. oftenly, after pulling away from his lips, he would look at his s/o's eyes and say "more" before diving in again.
aside from the messy kisses from heated and hungry make outs, luffy's kisses are always spontaneous and playful. he's hanging from the chandelier with his legs around it? he'll grow his head down just he can peck his s/o's lips. his kisses are never calculated or protocolar, they're just like his sweet personality. he would try to kiss you when you eat to "taste your food", claiming that it tasted better.
learning to communicate. luffy is not a complete moron, but his communication skills and social awareness may not be the best. their s/o will have to use patience in order to have a meaningful conversation about their intimate feelings or their relationship in general. luffy is a good listener to his s/o, however, his responses are not always fitting to the matter at hand, sometimes even immature. nevertheless, luffy is a willing person, especially with his s/o. he would try his best providing more fitting responses to his s/o's matters and expressing his needs as well, especially if he feels he has been saddened by their behaviour.
entrusting him and reassuring him. of course, luffy is a confident person, not only in his skills, but also in his dream of being the King of the Pirates. however, if their s/o does not vocalize their trust in his dream, skills or character, luffy would be saddened and pouty. it could trigger his jealousy. he is the captain of a fantastic crew with fantastic people and he feels entrusted with that role, but the one trust and validation he needs is from his s/o. if their s/o compliments him or refer to him as "future King of the Pirates", he would be beaming so hard and brag about it a little.
having a number one fan and devoted partner. luffy loves all of his crewmates and would do anything for them. but his s/o is special. he would always cheer them up, be their cheerleader, talk about them at any given times (a little like tom holland with zendaya lol), protect them from the smallest ant, raise them high. he will always stand for them. if his s/o's in danger, the smallest hint of common sense hidden in his brain gets completely lost and he goes feral. he won't let anything happen to his s/o, before letting anything happen to his dream. his dream is with their s/o: there's no Pirate King with his s/o, no matter what. losing his brother already broke his heart, and he knows losing his s/o will hurt the same, so he does not let anything happen to them. <3
he's the definition of a golden retriever boyfriend, but i feel like he would rather eat from your plate than giving you his lmao. he won't mind sharing with you, but he would enjoy stealing food from your plate.
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suempu · 1 day
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THE EVENING TAX?!?! are you kidding that’s sooooo cuteeee💕 if you have any more Laios as a parter headcanons I’d love to hear them!!!
we first gotta find out “how do i bag this man?” cause he’s HARD to get. this man is oblivious as fuck (when it comes to romance or just interactions in general)
you really gotta put your pants on and tell him straightforwardly.
“laios, i would like to pursue an exclusive, monogamous, ROMANTIC, relationship with you.”
you got him, congrats.
let’s start this with the fact that he’s incredibly loyal. he loves so deeply and he adores with all his heart.
when he loves you, oh he LOVES loves you. laios is a gentle person, but being in a relationship with a person he genuinely cherishes and not some assigned fiancé? this man will give you his all (once he actually knows what to do)
being with him will be bumpy at first. it’s his first time having a partner after all, he doesn’t really know what to do.
in the beginning of your relationship, he might come off as neglectful since he won’t initiate anything with you. this usually results to the party (mainly marcille, with falin helping) lecturing him about romance.
“laios, i’m cold. i heard body temperature can help you keep warm.”
“wait, let me light a fire instead.”
he has no experience at all, so be patient with him. if you express your concerns with him properly, he’ll think of ways to improve and to love you better.
if you crave affection and physical touch, it won’t happen right away. you have to slowly build up your relationship with him.
but, when you’re at that point where you two are comfortable with each other then thats where he really shines as a lover.
he has your traits all observed and noted down. he has a small journal filled with doodles of you, your likes and dislikes. you’re probably the next most interesting thing compared to monsters for him.
laios is very casual and chill. so let’s assume you’ve been together for a while, he will randomly rest his head on your shoulder, or put his hand in yours. thats when you both realize that he actually likes physical touch
he is very caring about your safety whenever you go dungeon crawling, he often places your mats next to each other just to feel closer to you.
while others dislike laios for his density, ehem shuro, you’ve grown to love him for it. he is a very simple man and you can’t fault him for it. plus you think he’s adorable.
once he turns king, he becomes very stressed and busy. one thing he likes to do is to lay his head on you while you read a novel to him out loud. the novel is a monster story of course, he’s still a nerd through and through lmao.
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dalliancekay · 3 days
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We've been talking for millions of years
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Aziraphale was clearly taken by Angel!Crowley from the moment he met him. I think the 6000 years could be read as when the whole human breeding thing starts. Even God says there's been many nice days in the Garden. How many? The count didn't start until the day they left Eden I think. When we meet Aziraphale and Angel!Crowley in Before the Beginning, Earth was still an idea in the works. And the War didn't happen. Or Crowley surely would have been more cautious. So I hope they have met and talked and Crowley grumbled about how unfair it all was.
And Aziraphale tried to placate him that it will all work out somehow, there’s a Plan. And they kept meeting, Crowley showing Aziraphale the prettiest corners of the universe, Aziraphale telling Crowley exciting developments re: Earth.
I wouldn’t try to guess at how far their relationship has gone… maybe relationships of the kind we know now weren’t invented yet and still, these two loved each other without knowing anything about it. After all, no other angels seem to have ANY relationships of any kind. Apart from higher or lower levels of condescension towards each other.
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Then the Great War came and tore them apart. After knowing each other for millions of years and their close more-than-friendship, their world falls apart. After all, Crowley tried to do the right thing. And Aziraphale did too but it wasn’t to be. Yet. But. Their story wasn’t finished yet.
Aziraphale is relieved when he’s sent down to Earth to guard the brand new humans from the demons he has heard that the damned angels have been turned into. He’s a bit fearful about the whole thing but glad to be away and keen, if a bit anxious to see the project he’s discussed/worked on for so long.
Crowley hates Hell. He hates it cos it’s not what he wanted or what he thought he was joining. He has been lied to. He’s not regretting his decision to turn his back on Heaven, no. He still thinks they’ve made too many crappy decisions. But he despises what the Rebellion became.
When Beelzebub asks for a volunteer to go up to the new planet and tempt the fresh innocent human couple into joining them, he volunteers, even if only to escape the claustrophobic walls and the mess nobody ever clears up.
Tempting comes easy to him. He imagines talking to his lost friend. ‘But why wouldn’t you try fruit from this one tree. What’s the problem with knowing things anyway? Wouldn’t you want to decide by yourself Eve? And Eve does make a decision.
Crowley’s worried now. Not for himself. He’s without hope but did he hurt humans by doing this. He didn’t mean to. He doesn’t really want them to go to Hell. Or Heaven for that matter. He only thinks they should be free to make their own choices. If only he had someone to talk to.
He spotted a distant angel earlier. Reminded him of, of… the light hair...anyway. They held a flaming sword but surely he can dodge that if needs be. He could just try for a simple chat. He has no idea how demons are talked about in Heaven. But he guesses the angel might just try to smite him. Worth the risk. Everything feels so raw and strange here. Maybe stealing a bit of familiarity will help him settle his nerves.
He decides to slither over and ask how the angel feels about what’s been done. Will they be furious. Hurt? Guilty? Oh. It’s him. It’s too late now. Always too late. It’s him. Aziraphale. Aziraphale. It is HIS angel. What is he going to do. FUCK! Well. No better way to find out. He could just tease him like the old times. What's the worst that can happen.
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Shitfuck but he smells good. These new senses will take a while to get used to: “Well that went down like a lead balloon.” A lead balloon? Whatthefuck even is that. Oh for Someone's sake.
Aziraphale’s standing on top of the Garden wall, squeezing his fingers with worry - what exactly has happened. What has possessed him to give away his sword. Did he disappoint God? Heaven? It doesn’t FEEL wrong to help them. If only he had someone to talk to.
Another angel? What. A snake? Oh. Oh. They are changing. Could it be? His heart will surely explode into million pieces…!!!! A lead balloon?!? “Sorry what was that?” Does he remember me? I think he does. I think he does. He’s here. As lovely as always.
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I’ll keep him safe. Safe. I will keep him safe this time.
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romanticintheory · 9 hours
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Hello!!!! I was wondering if you could write an angst with Ghost/Simon where the reader was too clingy after having a bad day and he lashed out on her but he didn't think anything of it because the next day the reader was acting normal. He only noticed after a few weeks when reader became more distant and quiet. Feel free to ignore if it's too weird or you don't like it!!! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
this one is dedicated to all the ones who were hurt and never got that apology. hope this alleviates the pain.
simon "ghost" riley x gn!reader || masterlist || request rules
-there was no one specific reason as to why today turned out to be a bad day. it just was.
-from accidentally burning yourself trying to make breakfast after waking up late to having to deal with the most insufferable customers, it just wasn't your day today.
-but it was okay, because you had simon to return to when everything was said and done.
-the frown on your face immediately softens the moment you see him walk through the door to your shared home. as soon as he pulls his mask and boots off, you make your way toward him and engulf him in a tight hug.
-you are painfully (but understandably) unaware of the thin veil of his patience and the frustration that had been brewing within him in the past few hours. he half-heartedly returns the embrace.
-"how was your day, si?" you ask him gently.
-"fine," he responds shortly, hoping there isn't more to the conversation.
-even after you pull away from him, you trail behind him as he moves around the house. this wasn't irregular behavior from either of you. simon wasn't usually the most talkative person in the room, anyway, but he loved to hear your voice. that was one of the things he loved about the two of you together; you filled the space he couldn't.
-today, though, was different. he was pissed off at all different kinds of people. for some reason, couldn't bring himself to tell you that he was having a bad day and needed some space, especially because it was evident you were having a bad one yourself.
-so when he turned on his heel after listening to your rambles for as much as he could take and lashed out at you, he tried not to think about the unbearable amount of guilt seeping into his veins.
-"would you just stop clinging to me for five minutes? god, 's like i can't get away from you or your constant fucking talking!"
-you had heard stories, mostly from simon, about the kind of man he could be when pushed to his limit. mostly, it was of violent, physical acts when it came to work or protecting the ones he loved. other times, he would tell you about when he'd lash out at others just like he did to you, now, and he always told it to you with a quiet fear. there was an unspoken meaning to him telling you about the times he's acted out: i don't want to do the same to you. i don't want to hurt you.
-but here he was, towering over you with a coldness in his eyes and a dryness in his throat from the sheer volume of his words.
-averting your gaze from his, you let out a meek, "'m sorry," and watch as he slams the door in front of your face.
-when he slinks into bed next to your sleeping form later that night, ridden with shame and guilt, he misses the tear-stained face hidden from him. after his outburst, you felt like all of the energy in your body had been taken away from you and retreated to bed early. you cried on and off for hours.
-you always thought you had a clinging problem. it was an insecurity you carried with you starting from childhood. friends would become acquaintances and family would keep you at arms-length. after years of believing the issue was you, simon walked into your life and told you different.
-if you stopped talking because you thought he stopped listening and was uninterested, he'd always turn back to you and genuinely ask why you stopped talking. whenever you apologized for hugging him for too long or asking to spend time with him for the third time that week, he'd always tilt his head at you and say in that low, sincere voice, "but i love you?"
-for all those reasons, you tried to give him the benefit of the doubt despite how much he hurt you. so, when he tries to bring it up the next morning, you do your best to brush it off. he was having a bad day. that was all. no need to make a fuss.
-"listen, love," he calls to you as you pop your piece of toast out of the toaster. "about last night-"
-completely disregarding his words, you look at the clock and stuff your phone into your pocket. "it's fine. honestly, simon," you tell him with the best smile you could muster. "i'm gonna be late. i'll see you tonight."
-you were so adamant on getting out as quick as possible that simon had no time to respond. he thought to himself that maybe he was making a bigger deal out of it than you. maybe there were no hard feelings and you were completely fine. after all, he was always overly worried for you, anyway.
-so, when you came home, he didn't mention it. it was as if last night didn't happen, and the two of you were perfectly fine. there were times where simon thought you were being a bit more restrained in your movements or words, but he tried to chalk it up to just him being overly paranoid. you said it was fine, so it was better not to push you on it, right?
-at first, you were doing really good at keeping yourself from overthinking the situation. however, as time went on and you paid more attention to how you acted around your boyfriend, you began to wonder if you were really that clingy.
-as the week progressed, your state of mind would deteriorate. what if it wasn't just a bad day? what if that was what he thought the entire time and was just waiting for the right moment to tell you? had he just been trying to cheer you up about your insecurities the entire time? and if he was, how much of this relationship was even real, then?
-the more you thought about it, the more distant you became. the last thing you wanted to do was make simon feel like he was being suffocated by you. you slowly stopped initiating physical affection with him, restricted talking about your day to a few sentences, and tried to answer simon's questions in one word when possible.
-he notices. of course he notices, it was like a stranger was living where you were supposed to be, and he missed it. he missed you.
-he asks you about your change when you're getting ready for bed, pulling the rest of your nightshirt over your head. despite being exhausted from work and looking like you were sitting out in the wind, he thought you never looked more ethereal than you did now.
-"(y/n)," he said.
-"hm?" you hummed to him, not turning toward his direction. you sat down on the edge of your side of the bed, turning off the lamp at the same time.
-your lack of emotional presence was starting to eat at him. he sat down next to you, the mattress dipping beneath his weight and forcing you to lean toward him.
-"you alright?"
-"yes. why?"
-"i dunno, you just seem..." his eyes tried to find yours, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze. "quiet."
-it was then that you looked at him, and it was scary to simon because he couldn't make out the emotion in your expression. there was nothing he could read.
-"isn't that-" you had to pause to try and stabilize your wavering voice. "isn't that what you wanted?"
-there was a tension-filled silence that settled in the room, and for a second you were worried that what you said was somehow incredibly offensive.
-finally, he chokes out, "i'm sorry."
-again, you try to muster up a smile. "it's fine, i already told you. i should've known you wanted space."
-"no."
-"no?"
-"it was my fault," he explains. "how could you 'ave known? i didn't tell you i wasn't in the mood that day, and that's not even considering the way i talked to you. i shouldn't have- nothing excuses what i said to you."
-still, you were convinced you were to blame. "well, i have a history of being clingy, so," you were trying to come up with more excuses for him. for most of your life, you had decided that you were the issue. it couldn't be any other way, right?
-"i know. it's one of the things i love you for," he says quietly. "not to sound cheesy but it's what makes you you, and i don't want you to lose that jus' 'cause i'm still shitty at communication."
-you knew in some capacity he was right. there was no excuse for how he talked to you, but the next words you wanted to say evaded you.
-simon thought about talking some more. instead, he grasped your back with one hand and slid his other underneath your legs, repositioning you on his lap. it was like a silent plea from him, a way of proving that he wanted to be close to you just as much as you wanted to be close to him.
-"you're sure i'm not too clingy?" you ask tentatively.
-"positive," he reassures you, rubbing small circles on your back with his thumb. "you wanna know something?"
-"what?"
-"if i wasn't so fucked up-"
-"you're not fucked up."
-"right." you never let him talk badly about himself. that was something he was still getting used to after all this time. being loved and learning to love himself. "well, if i didn't grow up the way i did and became the person i am, i'd probably be way clingier than you."
-"that's impossible," you deny, unconsciously letting yourself lean into his touch.
-"you don't know how much i want you. if my mind and body would let me, i'd be close to you all the time, showing you the attention you deserve."
-"you give me plenty."
-"agree to disagree," he stops with the circles and pulls you impossibly closer to his body. "but 'm trying. 'm trying to learn to let you love me and to not be afraid to love you. 'm sorry, love. i stopped trying that night, and i think it'll be the death of me."
-you let his words sink in, a thoughtful look on your face.
-"next time you'll tell me, right? what you're thinking?"
-"pinkie promise," he agrees, letting the hand under your legs slide out and raise his pinkie finger toward you.
-in return, you link your pinkie with his to seal the promise, and it feels as though the heavy tension in the air has cleared away.
-"i love you," he says, feeling bold from his previous admission.
-"i love you, too." there's that smile on your face. he never realized until now how he probably couldn't live without it.
-he kisses you on the lips, and for a moment the two of you just stay there in each other's arms, forgiving the past, healing the present, and dreaming of the future together.
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Someone mentioned that main characters can get overdeveloped. I'm familiar with characters being underdeveloped, but how do you tell if they are overdeveloped?
5 Signs Your Character is Overdeveloped
#1 - You spend time illustrating personality traits that aren't important to the story. Your character's personality traits should have some bearing on how they move through the story. Don't take the time to illustrate your character's stubbornness if being stubborn won't have some impact on the story.
#2 - You excessively describe their physical appearance and what they're wearing. While it's a good idea to give the reader a sense of what the character looks like and to describe what they're wearing when it shows something important about the character, world, or situation, the reader doesn't need an in-depth physical description--or even reminders--every time the character appears on the page.
#3 - You spend a lot of time illustrating their interactions and relationships with minor characters even though they have no bearing on the story. We like our characters to feel real and three-dimensional, which means giving the reader a sense of who they are, what their normal life is like, and who is important to them. However, we don't want to spend a lot of time on characters/relationships that don't really do anything for the story. For example, it's nice that your character has a good relationship with their elderly neighbor, but if the relationship isn't necessary to show us who the character is, set up or execute a plot point, or fulfill a thematic/symbolic role, it probably shouldn't be there.
#4 - Your character is a "jack of all trades." It's great for your character to have hobbies, skills, and experience in various things, but we don't want our characters to look like a walking, talking, padded resume. For the most part, any hobby, skill, or experience highlighted should play an important role in the story. If being proficient at roller skating doesn't tell us something about the character we can't learn another way, allow for the setup or execution of a plot point, or fulfill a thematic/symbolic role, it's probably not important to highlight that hobby, skill, or experience--or any other that doesn't contribute to the story.
#5 - You spend a lot of time on unnecessary backstory - Backstory plays an important role in helping us to understand who the character is, how they got to where they are in life, what things led up to their internal conflict and emotional wound/s, etc. However, we don't want to spend time on things that aren't ultimately important to the story in some way. For example, there's no point in flashing back to your character's week at surfing camp if nothing happened that week that is important to who they are or anything else that happens in the story.
A good rule of thumb for really any detail in a story is to ask yourself, "What is lost if I remove this detail?" If the answer is "nothing," you can probably go ahead and remove it. :)
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