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#i am screaming in an open field
bradleysweetheart · 1 month
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boyfriend!bradley, boyfriend!bradley, boyfriend!bradley 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
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icewindandboringhorror · 10 months
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a quite simple outfit, trying to use the little blue and white apron thing (which is actually a dress I think, that I just leave un-buttoned in the back and added an apron-like tie to lol)
#self#mori kei#jfashion#NOT really but like.. it's.. adjacent I guess.. forgive me .. I may try using tags again though I kind of got out of the habit ghhj#I need to be... Seen to some degree. I want to start selling clothes and sculptures again to recoup the costs of having to euthanize my cat#and stuff . but that won't be very successful if I have like.. 15 people to sell to lol...#the eternal Hermit Conflict where you hate attention and Being Percieved in general yet in todays capitalist society it is nearly#a necessity to have some form of social network or media presence especially in creative fields. etc. etc. ... kicking screaming wailing#sobbing so on and so forth.. tearfully punching the cold mossy stone walls of my evil wizard tower...#I was also thinking of maybe opening a few sculpture commission slots and maybe Tumblr Blazing that post or something#but.. again.... sobbing crying interacting with the general public oughhf ouuch -500 HP#why can't I just be approached by some wealthy 65 year old woman who is nonsensically infatuated with my art for no#reason and gives me like $10.000 a week for food and art supplies and etc. and I can go fuck off into a cabin in the middle of nowhere#in the uk and just be left alone to work on my projects without even needing to build any form of connections or social presence because I'#already set for life and can just get funding and connections whenever lol.. WHICH not to be ungrateful like obviously I still appreciate#anyone who follows and interacts with my posts. I dont mean it in a 'grrr fuck all of you imbeciles I wish I could delete my blog!!!' or#whatever hhjkjk.. I just mean it more in a like.. I am very socially inept and my mental illness gives me severe social issues so any situ#tion where I'm expected to self promote or network or interact with others generally is nightmarish and stressful for many many reasons#and if I could somehow skip that part and just go straight to being a famous author or somethin.. that would be cool. Which I know EVERYONE#hates networking and stuff but I mean like.. on a level most people could not possibly comprehend.. I am not just an 'introvert'. I am like#doctors declare me incapable of functioning in general society very poor mental health prognosis probably should have a caretaker at#some point type Hermit lol.. ANYWAY ghbhj... alas.. I also feel weird about the sculptures in terms of what to charge for them#and always have which is part of why I stopped selling them. If I charged a fair even like $15 an hour many of them would be like#close to $150+. and nobody is going to pay that for a decoration. that doesn't even factor in like.. supplies or time spent communicating/s#etching the concept (if a commission) etc. etc. I thought it'd be better to just auction them then and let people pay what they want inst#d of a set price but etsy doesnt allow auctions and is it weird to just.. link people to an Art Ebay or something lol..#AAAANYWAY.. the outfit.. I still love these shoes. they're nice and a little Older Style looking. always into pastel florals too lol#(everything is thrifted as usual. excited about the shirt because it's so puffy! it was in the halloween section though ghjhj.. like when i#s october and they make the special aisle in goodwill for 'Costume' clothes even though theyre all just normal stuff I would wear ghg)
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gncrezan · 2 years
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testing out how different the pen pressure is on the new laptop w/ @asphodelgame <3
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RESIDENT EVIL — CARMEN LOPEZ
She wears strength and darkness equally well; this girl has always been half goddess and half hell.
( template | inspiration )
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buckyalpine · 7 months
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Bucky can’t lie
A smutty thot. Imagine the avengers fucking around with a lie detector test, testing how well the super soldiers were trained. Steve failed instantly while stating his own name, blushing from embarrassment. Bucky was shoved into the chair next.
And he was disgustingly good.
The wires were attached to him within seconds, with questions flying left right and center. He crossed his arms over his chest with an eyeroll, answering the most ridiculous questions each person would throw at him.
"What the hell Barnes, there's no way, you can't be serious"
The super soldier smirked, while the others watched the needle scratch on the paper steadily, not a single signal indicating he was lying. It was going great until Tony's eyes lit up with a brilliant idea.
“Wait. Get y/n in here”
You sauntered into the room, scrunching your face seeing Bucky hooked up to the machine, while the rest of the team stared at him intently. The faintest uptick scratched onto the paper making Steve cock an eyebrow while Bucky's expression remained the same.
"What am I doing here and why's Bucky-
"Shh, just stand there. We're trying to see if we can get Bucky to fail a lie detector test. Alright, new question. Is there anyone in this room you've thought about naked" Tony asked while all eyes stared at Bucky, the soldier biting his lip.
"No"
"Hm" Tony nodded, continuing. "Is there anyone in this room you've thought about having sex with"
"What kind of questions are you asking, pervert" Bucky exhaled through his nose, his finger tapping against the seat.
"Just answer the question Barnes" Tony smiled sweetly, grinning when the needle already started to move a little higher than before.
"No"
The needle ticked higher making Bucky huff, ignoring the way his face heated up when you stepped closer to peer at the paper.
"Interesting. Slight deception detected there Barnes, you sure about that?"
"Yes" Bucky forced through gritted teeth, managing to keep the needle from jumping around too much.
"Here, let me" You smirked, pulling Tony away from the seat, gazing into the soldiers eyes while he threw you a cocky smirk.
"Think you can do better doll?" He sassed while you shrugged, the scent of your perfume already making hi sweat.
"Have you ever thought of kissing me?" The needle jolted before Bucky could even open his mouth, making the others screech while Bucky shook his head. "Liar"
"You ever thought about me naked? You like watching me out on the field?"
"No" Bucky's pulse raced, his pants starting to feel too tight, the test scribbling wildly.
"Okay this mf lying" Sam snorted while Bucky's flushed cheeks grew hotter.
"Really? You ever think about me on my knees for you? Sucking your cock?"
"No" The needle nearly jolted off the sheet, making Tony cackle, clapping his hands madly while Steve blushed and chuckled, torn between watching his best friend's walls crumble and running out of the room with your questions getting filthier and filthier.
"You think about cumming down my throat? having me swallow all of you, telling you how good you taste?"
"No"
"You think about having me naked on your bed, soldier? Moaning for you? Screaming your name?"
"You think about stuffing me with your babies Jamie? Getting me pregnant with that serum running through your veins?"
"You want me to call you daddy baby? How about Sergeant"
"Do you want me to be your slutty baby, drip all over your cock"
"N-No" Bucky gritted out again while Sam threw his hands up.
"You're not fooling anyone dumbass, I think you broke the needle" The machine nearly gave way with a high pitched whizz matching Bucky's racing heartrate. You grinned, getting up from your seat, making him pant.
"Do I make you horny baby" You slinked onto his lap, making Bucky finally break his resolve, his hands flying to your waist.
"Fuck yes. C'mere" He hissed, ripping the wires off and tossing you over his shoulder with a spank while Tony peered over at the paper with a satisfied smirk.
"No lies detected"
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gallusrostromegalus · 2 years
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Herschel Has Discovered Tool Use. Again.
In january of 2021, deep in the throes of pandemic psychosis, we acquired a Corgi Puppy.
I would like to go on the record that we did not get a Corgi because they're cute. We got a Corgi because they're criminally brilliant and enthusiastic working dogs that were bred to bully cattle, which is the exact temperment a dog living in a house with three ADHD adults should have. Herschel does commit a lot of crime, but he also does his appinted service-dog job of "make everyone wake up, eat meals and go to bed at a reasonable and consistent time" extremely well, as well as his bonus jobs of "Keep the squirrels the hell out of the garden" and "Yell every time the cat does something". I didn't actually ask him to do that last job but it has helped in the "teach the cat to stay the hell off the stove" area.
But even with having a whole pack of humans another dog, and a cat to manage, this pales in comparison to his genetic capacity to manage several hundred sheep or cattle across the fields of Wales, and thus, Herschel has decided on further intellectual pursuits to occupy himself, namely, speedrunning the early phases of human tool use and terraforming.
I realized he has the brains of an entire hunter-gatherer tribe shortly after he got fixed, and within 24 hours and still dpey from anesthesia, he'd figured out that his plastic cone could be used to monopolize the water bowl and his favorite chew toys, and within a week, had learned how to carry three toys at once while leaving his mouth open by tucking the toys behind his enormous ears and under his chin. He also figured out that he could wiggle the cone to rest against his shoulders, and started using it as a shovel by literally running the bottom edge into the ground. But that wasn't making holes effeicently enough, apparently, and I ended up watching him figure out how to rotate the cone around so the two pieces of overlapping plastic were under his chin, then use his chin and the stairs to the deck to pinch both ends into a much more efficient V-Shape that let him gouge huge strips of dirt up in seconds. The anthropologists and animal behaviorists in the audience may recognize this as Tool Creation, a behavior normally only seen in higher primates, crows, and some parrots. Once a hole of suitable length, depth and temperature had been achieved, he very carefully rolled the cone around so the digging side was over his head and the smooth side under his chin, and splooted into his hole to cool his little tummy and stitches off. It was at that point that I realized that I was going to have to teach him how to garden, or he was going to teach himself.
He no longer has the cone (He was beginning to experiment with it as a battering ram), but his morning ritual is now "Wake everyone up at 8AM by screaming, locate everyone in house and jam my nose up theirs to make sure they're alive, go outside and scream at the squirrels. Now that Yard is Secure, go get Fun Parent who has hopefully taken their meds by now, and supervise them while they rifle through the plants (this is apparently KEY to their mental health), eating any pest animals Fun Parent points out, chase squirrel AGAIN, go inside and get Breakfast cookie." and BY GOD if we deviate from it there will be much screaming and destruction. If I am not home, it has been reported that he walks round the garden beds and sniffs the plants in the order I usually check them in before he will agree to come in. He doesn't quite know what the deal with the melons is, just that they need to be checked.
But we're out of the labor-intensive parts of gardening and now into Harvesting Season, and this is a bit boring except when I give him snap peas right off the vine, and he has decided to work on the complex physics problem that is Doorknobs.
And last week, he had a breakthrough.
Sometime in 2020, my mom sort-of taught her horrible crime herding dog Arwen how to open the back door so she could let herself out as she pleased during the day and stop interrupting Mom's Zoom calls. Arwen is a Kelpie, which means she's about 60lbs with full-length legs and horrible monkey paws that are one joint away from being hands, so when Arwen wants to open the back door, she sits up, leans on the door for purchase/to push it, and uses her terrible crime hands to *push* on the knob until it turns. She can pull the knob open by pawing and catching it on her toes, but she's 11-13 years old now and has mild arthritis, so she prefers to catch it on her central pad instead. She taught Charlie, the other equally brilliant but less criminally inclined dog, to do this but he doesn't like to go outside alone, so he rarely does this.
Herschel, ever the observant student, immediately tried copying them, but even though he is actually tall enough to reach the knob, his toes are just too stubby to get a decent grip on the knob, pushing or pulling, and the first few times, gave up and sat down to scream until one of the fullsize dogs or humans came to open the door for him.
Last week, we were up at my parent's again, and I watched him hunt around the living room until he found his slightly-sticky orange rubber ball (It's clean, it's just a kind of rubber that's always a bit tacky), carry it across the house, stand up on his hind legs at the back door, put the rubber ball on top of the gap between the knob and the wall, and then push down on the ball, which caught the doorknob and turned it for him, thus opening the door. He let himself out, had a merry time yelling at the squirrels, came back in, stopped a few feet inside the door, went back out, grabbed his ball, and brought it back into his kennel, a place he can leave toys if he doesn't want the other dogs playing with them.
This means he somehow worked out how doorknobs work, how fucking levers work, and that his orange rubber ball specifically was the one that would work (none of his other toys are the correct size/texture), that he'd need that ball specifically to open the door again, and yesterday he did the same trick with the bedroom door, so he knows that the rubber ball/skeleton key can be used on all doorknobs, not just that one.
I wonder if I can teach him to sweep.
___
If you want to fund Herschel's research into Tool Use and/or get me therapy for the ensuing chaos, please feel free to donate to my Ko-Fi, or get further Dog Content by subscribing to my Patreon.
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rinniessance · 5 months
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DADDY'S FAVORITE GIRL ༊*·˚ - step dad!gojo x fem!reader
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going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to in the summer is a new step-dad. and you do not like the dangerous glint in his eyes every time he looks at you.
꒰ warnings: nsfw - dark content - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ non-curse au. step dad!gojo, stepcest, age difference (reader is implied to be 21, gojo is in his late 30s), dubcon, gaslighting, manipulation, cheating, heavy daddy kink, so many pet names (babygirl, pretty, doll, princess etc.), slight dacraphyllia, slight overstimulation, breeding kink, unprotected sex, virginity loss, corruption kink. plot is kinda messy 'cause i was rushing to get to the smut, sowwy ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ // word count: 5.1k ꒱ ꒰ notes: i am freely being my most disgusting self, thank you for supporting my little insane brain .ᐟ.ᐟ꒱
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going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to during summer break is a new step-dad. ever since your parents divorced when you were 14, your mom has been single – your teenage years, she dedicated herself to you, protecting you from your scumbag father, focusing on your future. you even agreed to delay your college admittance until you were 20, taking two gap years after your high school to stay at your hometown with her. your mom has the worst case of separation anxiety – which is why maybe you should’ve been more concerned when she gradually stopped texting you as the days went on. you assumed the best – maybe she found a hobby, maybe she reconnected with old friends, maybe she finally realized you are an adult and stopped babying you every waking moment. what you did not expect is for her to get married.
these are the thoughts running through you head as you stand in the middle of your living room, fresh out the airport, gawking at the man sleeping on the couch, and wonder how the fuck that happened. you would’ve honestly screamed and thought this was a squatter, or a robber, if not for all the wedding pictures obnoxiously decorating almost every available surface (god, how many photos do you need?). you try not to think too much about it – the flight was 6 hours, you barely got any sleep sitting to the smelliest man on the planet, and you just want to take a shower and go to bed. just as you start walking off, the front door swings open.
“oh my god, sweetheart, you’re home!” your mom’s voice booms through the quiet room resonating like a thunderclap in the middle of a still field. she runs to you, immediately pulling you into a hug which you happily return. you’re genuinely delighted to see her, albeit feeling a little weirded out by a man she decided to bring home. your mother looks over to the couch, man’s sleeping figure not moving once, and sighs with exasperation. “i assume he didn’t pick you up?”
“no but it’s okay…” you whisper quietly and gesture towards the figure on the couch with your head, “about that, though…”
“yeah, honey, i know, i am sorry i didn’t tell you. everything has been happening so quickly, i haven’t even had time to process it myself!” she squealed like a school girl. “his name is satoru gojo and we met at the charity event i went to six months ago.”
“since when do you attend charity events?” you ask, quirking the brow upwards.
“oh, i didn’t know what to do with myself ever since you moved out so i’ve been trying anything and everything. and look, the results have been phenomenal!” she giggled, frustration she had towards her husband about not picking you up melting away in front of your eyes. god, he really had her wrapped around his finger.
“okay, well, i am kind of tired so i wanted to go to bed. is it okay if we talk about this tomorrow?”
your mom suddenly looks down at her feet, a little embarrassed. what did she do.
“yes, about that… that room was sitting unutilized the whole time you were away so satoru and i thought it would be a good idea to remake it into a home office, kind of. your bed is still in there though! so you can sleep in the room no problem.”
“mom, what the fuck…” you whine. not only your room with all your memories and all your personality was gone and demolished, you now have to sleep in the room that was most likely used by him. “home office” my ass, you thought – your mom would not need it in a million years, and by the way she’s avoiding your gaze in shame, it was definitely not her idea.
“i’m sorry baby, but you’ve been away and…”
you interrupt her with a wave of your hand.
“whatever, i’m too tired to think about it. i’ll take a shower and go to bed, i don’t wanna deal with him until tomorrow,” you sigh with frustration and walk off into your home office, dropping your things on the floor.
what you don’t see as you walk off is the dangerous glint in satoru’s eyes as he listens to every bits of your conversation. you said the last sentence with so much poison, he thinks it might’ve struck him dead. gojo knows it will be difficult to get on your good side now but he likes to play these games on hard mode.
oh, you will be so much fun to break.
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gojo satoru is a patient man – when he really wants something, he is content to wait until he gets it. that being the main reason why he approaches you slowly. it’s the next day after you arrive that he has a chance to introduce himself properly.
you leave the room after having the best night’s sleep – you really didn’t mind waking up in the office today, you must’ve been too tired to think straight and threw a fit yesterday. you make a mental note to apologize to your mom later. as you turn into the kitchen, you’re met with the view you wish did not have such a strong effect on you – your step-dad, freshly out of the shower, grey sweatpants low riding on his hips, is preparing what seems to be breakfast.
you’re so fucked.
you try to shake off the feeling of arousal washing over you. you may not have had a chance to have any sexual experiences yet, but you’re not that much of a virgin not to know when you’re feeling horny. you just wish it wasn’t due to the incredibly hot step-dad. the left-over frustration from previous night bubbles up like over spilled champagne and you decide to keep your distance. anger helps you keep yourself grounded, and you maneuver around the man to make breakfast, but you see that he prepared it for you already.
“oh, thank you,” you say quietly as he extends the plate to you.
“you’re very welcome, sweetheart.”
the nickname sends a shiver down your spine.
gojo turns to face you and gives you his breathtaking smile. you want to choke on your toast.
“i wanted to apologize for not picking you up yesterday. your mom told me so much about you, and i was excited to meet her ‘favorite girl’,” his eyes spark with a dangerous glint at the nickname, making you shrink into yourself, “but my work held me up, and then i think i went for a quick nap and… uh… ended up falling asleep,” he says with a light chuckle.
“that’s okay, i didn’t really mind the train ride,” you respond with visible discomfort,
he now stands next to you by the counter, his body heat palpable, melting over you like a scorching son. gojo’s all-teeth smile is gorgeous, frustratingly enough, but it makes your skin crawl: like a prey walking into the carefully designed trap, you can feel your gut asking you to run. it makes sense your mom fell for him so easily.
“will you let me make up for it? let’s go our for a dinner, i’m sure your mom would be delighted to hear we’re trying to get along.”
“i don’t know, i haven’t seen my friends in some time, i think i’ll be hanging out with them for a while,” you shuffle from leg to leg, trying to move away
“that’s okay, we have a whole summer ahead.”
for some reason it felt more like a threat than a promise.
you smile politely back, not knowing what to say, rushing to finish your breakfast. the image of your step-dad, half-naked in your family kitchen talking to you about his plans with you for the whole summer should be weird – it’s difficult to find it weird when the said step-dad is criminally hot, unfortunately.
“i think i’ll go now, thanks for the breakfast,” gojo’s gives you a smile so sweet, it somehow triggers a toothache, and waves you off. since yesterday, he’s been making you feel extremely on edge for no apparent reason, it’s driving you a little insane.
when you come back home that evening, you are greeted by both your mom and satoru with the dinner ready. she babbles about how great of a cook he is, and that she can’t wait until you try it. you politely decline citing that you’re full and quickly leave for your room – satoru’s blue eyes were looking at you with almost an animalistic stare, and you hated that you liked it.
gojo thought things were going well with you – he’s given you the space you need in the first two weeks after you arrived. your mom was overjoyed seeing how deeply satoru already cared about you – making sure you eat in the morning, not letting you go to bed without a meal, always checking on you throughout the day, keeping you safe. you, however, thought it was… weird, if anything, that he was all around you this intensely.
“oh, honey, that’s just how he shows that he cares. he was like that with me as well,” your mom tells you one of the nights when you bring it up. it worries you how easily she takes his side now and wonder if something else is going on.
satoru picks you up when you stay out too late, to the wee hour of the night when the subways stop running; he makes sure you have your nights with your mom, when he doesn’t intrude on your backyard conversations and only adores you pretty features from his second-floor window; he learns what movies and music and tv you like, trying to decipher the person that is you.
he’s been putting all this effort to get to know your every step – then why the fuck does he find you one night you kissing some random boy on your driveway?
you said you were going out today and no pickup was needed – now it makes sense why.
gojo satoru is a patient man. but even his patience can start running thin, trickling like water through cracks in the fingers. hourglass of his kindness has been half full for a while now – it’s about time the sand runs out.
you think a boy like him can give you what satoru can? just you wait and see.
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kitchen is uncharacteristically quiet when you walk in. it’s the next morning, and usually by now, satoru would be making breakfast for you. his job is still unknown – you are not sure if he was suddenly called in but the feeling of happy solitude falls over you, even if for a moment.
your mom is gone at least for two weeks for work, you’re dreading the moment you have to be left alone with your step-dad. the look in his eyes yesterday was dangerous, a predator appraising its victim before sinking its teeth in, and you’re happy megumi was able to leave quickly after walking you home. surprisingly, gojo didn’t say you a word when you walked into the house, silently sitting in front of the tv like he didn’t just spy through the window on your kiss with the boy.
air in the room was heavy with tension – you knew satoru was avoiding looking your way, jaw clenched, hands balled into fists. instinctively, you wanted to break the silence, say something to discharge the electricity jumping through the atoms of your stuffy living room air, but ultimately decided against it. you have nothing to say to a man, and it’s not like you needed to justify your actions in front of him anyways. you quickly retreated into the office and avoided him until you fell asleep.
when you woke up to an empty apartment not even fifteen minutes ago, you felt relief. walking into the kitchen and confirming your presence alone, you even felt happy. then what is this weird feeling, almost as if you are missing something, nagging at you? you thought of going out today but now a strange desire to stay at home washes over.
you make breakfast for the first time since you came home (gojo didn’t skip a single day, you have no idea how he kept up with that), and you chastise yourself for feeling weird about cooking for yourself; and you chastise yourself again when your mind lingers on the thoughts of a certain white-haired man; and again when you look at your phone, convincing yourself it’s a bad idea to text him. god, you feel so stupid. didn’t you want him to stop being so unsettlingly sweet and dotting around you all the time?
conflicted by your irrationality once again, you frustratingly take your plate and sit down on the couch. flipping through the netlifx previews, you land on something to distract your mind by. you settle on some true crime documentary and let the horrors on the screen consume you, abandoning for a moment the thoughts plaguing your head.
you’ve been glued to the screen for at least two hours before you heard the jiggle of the keys. like an eager puppy, you waited for gojo to come inside and greet you like he would every day – only for him to completely ignore your presence, beelining straight for the kitchen. turning your head back to the tv, you try your best not to pay any attention to the uncharacteristic behavior from satoru’s end.
“i will be in the home office the whole day, don’t enter.”
before you can respond anything back, your step-dad is already walking off without sparing you a second glance. is he still upset from yesterday? you didn’t think kissing megumi would be that much of a deal. your nervously play with the hem of the blanket, show playing on tv long forgotten, contemplating what you should do next. why are you bothered by his silence this much anyways?
rethinking your earlier choice, you send a quick text to your friend asking to meet you for drinks. maybe right now gojo needs space, or whatever, and leaving him alone is the best next thing right now. you knock at the door of the home office.
“sorry, i am going out now and need to quickly change.”
not even 5 seconds pass before the door is swung open by a man that’s been occupying too much of your mental space today.
“be quick,” is the only response you get before he leaves the room and closes the door behind him. you’re perplexed by this sudden change in behavior yet again. throwing on the first decent outfit you can find, you let gojo know that you’re done and will be home later; hum is the only acknowledgment you get before he disappears in the office.
exiling all the thoughts of satoru gojo from your head, you leave your house, hoping tomorrow will put all the pieces of the puzzle back together.
yet the next day comes, and you still wake up to no warmth from satoru – it felt as if he built a wall between the two of you in one night’s span, impossible to be breached. should you talk to him? should you apologize? and apologize for what? you didn’t do anything wrong, did you? ignoring the gnawing feeling inside once more, you retreat to the living room, sulking on the couch until the end of the day, clawing onto the hope gojo of tomorrow will acknowledge your existence.
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“did i do something wrong?”
you stand in the doorway to gojo’s office, arms crossed over your chest. he lazily turns his head your way as if giving you even a second of his time is too much of a bother – the look he sends you is burning through your core, making you pathetically weak and wet.
“no,” he starts slowly, “do you think you did something wrong?”
“i don’t know! that’s why i’m asking. you’ve been ignoring me for the past week, and it’s getting weird.”
“i thought i’d leave you alone, it seems you’re capable of having fun on your own.”
satoru is looking back to his screen now, and you scrunch your eyebrows, frustrated by the riddles he’s throwing your way. walking inside the room, your close the door on instinct and take wide steps to stand in front of him.
“stop answering me like this, we’re not playing a charade. what do you mean?” the demand in your voice is clear, and it twists something inside satoru – his gaze falls on you again yet this time it’s dark, taunting, dangerous, with a hint of chaos. it scares and excites you.
gojo suddenly stands up, and pushes you into his desk until you’re sitting on it. he is tall – your mom basically married a giant – and you try to curl into yourself to escape his malicious eyes.
“what, i thought you wanted me to leave your alone? you want my attention now all of a sudden?” he respond with the question of his own in a mocking tone.
“i never said i wanted you to ignore me…” you answer meekly, yelping slightly as your back hits his desk – you suddenly realize there is nowhere to run now.
“really? we’ve been together in a house for almost a month now, and yet you showed no interest in getting to know me.”
“’m sorry…” you cannot think of anything else to say. gojo moves even closer, and is now towering over you – it makes you embarrassingly horny.
“show me how sorry you are.”
before you can respond, he is caging your body with his and capturing your lips in a kiss, and you freeze – all of this is so wrong, you cannot bring yourself to start moving your mouth against his. gojo’s tongue coerces its way inside, exploring the undiscovered paths, his teeth biting your still lips. closing your eyes, you whimper and try to push him away but he only catches your wrists with his one hand, while the other plays with the hem of your shorts. a gasp escapes your lips, and you push yourself further into the desk, squirming under gojo’s body.
“what, you don’t like it? i thought my little girl wanted daddy’s attention?” he torments you, voice condescending and thick with mockery. all you can muster is a pathetic mewl, words lost somewhere inside your throat, and dig your fingers into the edge of your desk as your step-dad forces his digits inside your panties, lightly brushing against your clit.
“god, you’re already so wet, so filthy,” he whispers between the heated kisses as the pads of his fingers keep teasing your pussy. “tell me, babygirl, are you still a virgin? gotta know how to treat you.”
“y-yes…”
“well, am i just not the luckiest?” gojo chuckles darkly, spreading your legs with his thigh. unoccupied hand goes to grip your hip while the fingers on the other are still working your clit, sliding the digits between your puffy lips, teasing your hole. every time he circles around the entrance and mocks by pushing his finger just slightly inside, the moan builds up in your throat, and you’re too embarrassed to let it out.
“common, baby, your daddy wants to hear you, don’t hide your pretty voice from me.”
gojo is infuriatingly good with his fingers – you could never bring yourself this much pleasure from playing with your clit, and your defiance starts melting away as you find yourself bucking your hips into his hand, whining pitifully. the man completely removes your shorts and underwear, shoving the latter into his pocket – something to remember this moment by.
“god, such a pretty pussy, i can’t believe you’ve been hiding it from me. take off your shirt so i can see all of you, princess.”
immense desire pools between your legs, hunger and lust evident in satoru’s cerulean eyes, now hidden by dilated pupils, and you’re surrendering yourself to him – want makes you delirious, completely erasing your sense of right and wrong. you remove the top, nipples perked and waiting. gojo looks at you in wonder and disbelief – all of that for him? his hand went to squeeze your boob almost on an instinct, rolling the nipple between the pads of his fingers, while sucking on another with his mouth. you drop your head back, losing yourself to the intense pleasure your step-dad’s giving you. seeing as you’re distracted by him playing with your tits, he takes this as his chance to shove two of his fingers inside.
a strangled moan leaves your lips, your hands gripping man’s shoulders.
“ahhh, that hurts, satoru.”
“nah-uh, that’s not what i want to hear you calling me,” he straightens himself and starts scissoring you with his digits. the initial intrusion is painful, you can feel your virgin walls stretching to accommodate for how he’s dragging the fingers in and out, yet the burn is woefully delightful, and you’re getting lost again.
“’m sorry daddy.”
gojo only chuckles – god, you were easier than he expected, so well-behaved and pliable under him.
“that’s right, let daddy take good care of you.”
he speeds up the pace, curling his slender, pretty fingers, brushing the spots you were never able to reach with your own. wet, soggy sounds fill the entirety of the room, air already stuffy with smell of sex as he continues to finger-fuck your pussy. gojo could feel his cock twitching in his pants, he wanted to take you right there and then, but he was determined to make you cum on his digits first – it prompts him to attach his lips to your neck, sucking on the sensitive spot below your jawline, marking you as his.
your mewling turns louder, breathing is getting labored, and it seems your hips have a mind of their own now as they are bucking into satoru’s movements, fucking yourself how you need it. something akin to orgasm starts building up in your tummy – it has never felt this all-consuming, you wonder if you’ve been touching yourself wrong all this time.
“daddy, please don’t – ah! – stop,” is everything you can say in a measly attempt to ask him to speed up. his thumb finds your neglected clit, rubbing tight circles around your bundle of nerves, and picks up the pace, cunt now clenching even tighter around his two fingers, and gojo groans thinking how you’d feel around his aching dick. he adds a third finger – it’s angled so perfectly assault your special spongy spot, it turns your brain into a mush.
gojo pinches your nipple, kissing you to swallow all the lewd moans to himself.
“is my princess close?”
“yes daddy, ‘m so close.”
“common, cum all over my fingers, baby.”
these words finally push you over the edge – your climax washes over you like a cold morning shower, leaving you trembling in gojo’s hold. your legs are trying to close to stop the man from continuing his abuse on your twitching pussy but he is too lost in the feeling of your walls constricting around his fingers to allow you to do that. he fucks you through your orgasm, bringing you to the realm of overstimulation.
“ahh, daddy, please, it hurts now,” you whine with teary voice, beads of salty water gathering in the corners of your eyes.
“shhhh, daddy knows best, yeah? let me feel you a little longer.”
gojo keeps his pace until you’re clawing at his arm, trying to pull away your pussy from his fingers. he grabs you by the back of your head, bruising your lips with the intensity of his kiss – you’re sure he draws blood by how he bites your lower lip, licking the messy aftermath. you’re still whining and mewling, trails of tears finally flowing down your face, and he’s sure he’s never seen anything hotter as he licks the salty tracks.
“you’ve done so good, babygirl, i think you’re ready for the main gift,” satoru says and finally withdraws his fingers. the emptiness is welcoming yet disappointing, and you groan. gojo quickly unbuckles his pants and shoves them down, alongside his boxer briefs, and you almost choke on your spit when you see how well-endowed he is. you don’t have a lot to compare it to but you think his cock is beautiful – it's long and slender, and uncut, prominent vein running all the way from the base to just underside of his head, and you get an immeasurable desire to run your tongue along it.
“is my pretty doll drooling jus’ at the sight of my dick?” he mockingly asks you, making you turn your gaze away. gojo chuckles again, and grabs you by your chin, pulling your head down.
“no looking away, darling, i want you to see how i take your virginity.”
with no other option, you keep your gaze peeled downwards, to where gojo strokes himself couple of times before lining himself up with your leaking hole. despite all the preparation and your previous orgasm, you’re still incredibly tight and satoru groans as he starts pushing himself inside. you can see his smooth cockhead bullying his way into you, stretching your greedy walls – man feels you pulsating around him, and that makes him twitch.
“fuck, princess, you’re so tight, feels so good.”
gojo finally sinks all the way in, your cervix being met in a kiss by a swollen tip, and you moan, sound almost pornographic. your step-dad doesn’t let you adjust before he pulls out almost all the way before sliding back in – he doesn’t go easy on you for your first time, setting up a brutal pace, not caring if you’re ready to take him fully yet. it stings, and you have to hold yourself on gojo’s shoulder’s as he starts fucking into you. his hands are on your hips, guiding them to meet his thrusts.
“daddy please, ‘ts too much,” you cry out but satoru is all too lost in how your gummy walls perfectly hug his swollen cock. he doesn’t respond, shutting you up by forcing his tongue into his mouth yet again, sucking on every piece of available flesh. slowly, the tension in your body melts away and gives way to a new kind of pressure – the one building up in your tummy. you’re shocked at how fast your body is able to start getting on the road to blissful ecstasy again but you’re not complaining.
“shit, are you getting close already, babygirl? i can feel your pretty pussy squeezing me again.”
“yes, sorry daddy.”
“there is nothing to be sorry about, just means your daddy’s doing a good job,” he says with a grin, keeping up the pace, rutting into your sloppy cunt. queefing sounds and slapping of skin on skin make you blush furiously yet you can’t take away your gaze from where satoru keeps burying himself inside you.
the girth of gojo’s cock is deadly – not only he’s able to reach the spongy spot almost immediately, making white spots dancing across your vision, kaleidoscope of pleasure lighting up your every nerve ending, he is also bruising your cervix just with enough pressure to make you twitch in delight. his pubic bone grinds against your puffy clit and it’s setting up fireworks against your skin, hot molten lava igniting your whole being.
your moaning becomes uncontrollable as satoru’s fucking you in an animalistic pace – he keeps splitting you open, the spread of legs is slowly growing uncomfortable.
“look how good you’re taking me, being such a good girl for me,” he’s babbling, edging himself too – he wants to feel you spasming around his cock, he cannot let himself cum before that. “gonna feel so good cumming inside, pretty. give you a cute little brother or sister, huh? what do you think? i bet you’ll look so gorgeous being pregnant with my baby.”
“no, daddy, you can’t do that…”
“hm, why? just imagine, you walking around, with my child inside your belly, all cute and swollen for me, tits full of milk. wouldn’t you want that?”
you hiccup a sob as gojo keeps dragging his heavy cock in and out of you, the vein you saw before pressing against your walls deliciously, and you feel your toes start to curl as your body chases after the second orgasm. you dig your nails into his biceps, certain to leave half moon marks on his porcelain skin, and bite your lip. in turn, he is pressing his fingers against the plum skin of your hips, marking you with bruises to remind you of this tomorrow.
“shit, i haven’t fucked your cunny for that long yet it’s already perfectly snuggled around me. i’m training it fast, huh? i’m gonna teach it to fit only me,” you can hear the grin in his voice as he says that.
gojo feels your walls tighten around him – he can see you’re teetering on the edge of climax, whining and moaning under the man, letting him completely use you – so he picks up the speed, assaulting your abused pussy. it doesn’t take longer than that for the tension in your tummy to snap, and you’re wantonly crying out satoru’s name.
“fuck, dollface, you’re squeezing me so perfectly right now. want to milk me for all i’ve got?”
you’re cock drunk, unable to respond to him, hoping your mewling will be enough for the man to see he fucked you stupid. he is not showing signs of slowing down – you can only continue whining as satoru chases after his own pleasure. he pistons his hips couple of times more, and you can feel him throbbing inside as he shoots creamy ropes of cum inside you, painting your womb white. the ring of mixed fluids at the bottom of his cock drives him insane, and he continues fucking his cum into you.
“shit baby, can’t waste a single drop now, can we.”
you’re letting out a quiet sob, pleasure too overwhelming and almost feverish, still unable to find your voice. when he deems it satisfactory that his seed is all warm inside you, gojo finally pulls out and kisses the top of your head.
“i’d say this was a good practice run, what do you say? your mom only comes back in a week, i’ll make you my personal cumdump until then.”
you snap your head up at his words, the smile playing on your step-dad’s face borderline sinister. you think it’s supposed to make you scared, then why is your pussy already twitching around nothing?
“yes daddy, anything for you.”
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awearywritersworld · 10 months
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the three times gojo thinks he might be in love and the time he knows for sure
gojo satoru x reader summary: title says it all w/c: 1k tags/warnings: ft baby megumi. fluff, then some more fluff. gumi refers to reader as mom. one curse word. brief reference to canon typical violence. a/n: i am ridiculously soft for this man. he needs a hug masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here
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the first time it happens, it's the dead of winter and you're both still teenagers. it's the year before the star plasma vessel mission, when everything in gojo's life feels like it's falling into place. he has friends, real friends, for the first time in his life.
you drag him, kicking and screaming (it's all for show, he'd go anywhere with you), out to a snow covered field. you innocently beg him to turn off limitless, and of course he acquiesces, only to be pelted in the face with a snowball.
he throws himself into the snow upon impact, arms flailing dramatically. "i'm dead! you've killed me!"
you join him on the ground, arms out stretched and nudging the fabric of his coat. "hm, then i guess i'll have to drink all the hot chocolate by myself-"
"i have returned to the living realm!!" he shouts, shooting up into a sitting position. "had to fight god for it, told 'im i couldn't bear to leave my (y/n)-chan!"
"oh, you are so full of shit," you accuse with an amused smile.
you gaze at one another as the snow falls around you silently, both somehow feeling warm despite the frigidness of the air. his glasses have slipped down his nose, giving you a glimpse at his eyes. you're thinking about how the flakes blend in with his lashes before melting away entirely. he's thinking that he might be in love with you.
~~~
some time passes before the second instance, which takes place in the spring. gojo makes his way around campus, looking for wherever you and megumi ran off to. the small boy has been attached to your hip ever since gojo brought him home two years ago.
when he finds you, you're both splayed out in the grass and pointing up at the clouds.
"that one looks like a dog!" megumi exclaims excitedly.
"and that one looks like it might be his ball, don't you think?" you question. he agrees wholeheartedly with an enthusiastic nod.
after awhile, megumi sits up, rubbing at his eyes. "can we go inside now, mom?"
there's a split second he doesn't realize what he's said, but when it dawns on him, he looks down right scared. "'m sorry!"
your features soften and your heart soars before you're gathering him up in your arms.
"oh, my sweet boy," you coo.
rocking him back and forth, you hold him for a few passing moments. he hides his face in your chest, his hands gripping onto your shirt as if it's his life line.
you pull away just enough to see his face. you'd do anything to stop the tears swimming in his eyes, just like any mother would. "you can call me whatever you like 'gumi."
"p-promise?"
"yup!" you assure, bopping his nose with your pointer finger. it earns a small giggle.
gojo watches as you rise from the ground, megumi's head now resting on your shoulder and his arms around your neck. you're humming as you walk back toward the buildings.
gojo's legs are like lead and his heart feels as if it's shifted up into his throat. for the first time, he thinks about getting married, about having a family. your face is at the forefront of every image that forces itself into his mind.
~~~
the third time happens in the dead of night. megumi is asleep and the two of you decide to watch a movie, but you're yawning before he even presses play.
you sit so close to him that you can feel the warmth radiate from his body and although you fight to keep your eyes open, you can't help but be lulled to sleep.
he tenses for a moment when your head lands squarely on his shoulder. it seems as if you're both frozen, but then you let out a soft snore as your body shifts and your hand moves to his stomach. he finally relaxes.
your hair had fallen across your face and he pushes it back behind your ear so that he can see you. he tries to ignore the urge to brush his fingers across your cheekbone, or over your bottom lip. he fails.
gojo remains still for hours, and it feels strange to the usually hyperactive man, but he's terrified of disturbing you. terrified that you'll pull away from him and he'll never get to feel like this again.
he lets that stupid movie play through twice, but he spends most of the time stealing glances at you. he does eventually turn the tv off and the only sounds that remain are the trill of summer crickets outside his window and your soft, slow breaths.
he has no idea what time it is when he falls asleep, but when he finally does, he dreams about that day in the snow.
~~~
leaves fall at your feet as the two of you make your way down the sidewalk. every now and then, your fingers brush against his and it makes his heart skip a beat. he wonders (hopes?) if anyone has mistaken you for a couple.
you come across a familiar mansion, one that the two of you exorcised together as teenagers. it feels like a lifetime ago. you stop at the gate, a bronze glint on the ground catching your eye.
crouching down, you brush away shades of orange and red to reveal a memorial for all the people who had died on the once cursed property.
"for the lives that were taken here, and for the lost soul who took them... may they rest now in the afterlife."
gojo scrunches his nose, about to make some comment about how pitiful it was to commemorate a cursed spirit, but the words die in his throat when you look up at him with watery eyes.
"this is so beautiful," you remark, turning back to the engraved words.
he shoves his hands in his pockets, peering down to read over the words once more. maybe he'd missed something?
"this community was so fearful, remember? people lost friends and family here." he nods even though you aren't looking at him, watching how your fingertips move across the words as if you're considering them further. "the spirit scared them and it stole from them, but they still regard it with sympathy and kindness.. it takes strength to do that, you know?"
he feels his chest tighten as he registers your words. for a fleeting instance, he feels like an asshole for ever finding it pitiful, but that was the thing. you have such an easy way about you, a sort of gentleness he had yet to find in anyone else. the time he spends in your company seems like the only respite he ever gets from the horrors of the world.
he hasn't answered you yet, so you look back to him expectantly. "don't you think it's beautiful, 'toru?"
god, he could fall to his knees right then and there. he could roll over and die on the chilly concrete and he'd consider it a privilege to have died by your side.
i love you. i love you. i love you. those are the only three words his brain can muster.
"yeah," he finally chokes out. "it really is."
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drudyslut · 3 months
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— warnings: smut! 18+ aggressive!rafe, slightly bimbo!reader, semi public sex, almost getting caught, fingering, hair pulling, face fucking (my fav shit oops), slapping, choking, degrading, praise, unprotected sex.
— note: this was a request for kook king!football player!rafe x kook queen!bimbo cheerleader!reader from @oceandriveab and i accidentally posted it before writing anything, so here’s this😈 i’m ferallllll for football player!rafe 😮‍💨
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❥ mine — r.c
“touchdown, rafe cameron!”
the announcers voice booms through the speakers, the crowd is screaming, cheering your boyfriends name loudly!
you have a wide smile on your face, rafe had scored the game winning touchdown, and you knew that meant he’d be in an extra good mood tonight.
the sound of the football coaches voice fills your ears, and you see players rushing the field. you drop your poms by your feet, rushing to the field yourself, in search of rafe.
“rafe!!” you shout, finding him mid field, his teammates, students, coaches, and other cheerleaders surrounding him.
he finds your eyes through the sea of people surrounding him, politely excusing himself and pushing himself out of the sea of bodies, taking long strides toward you.
you throw your hands up in the air, squealing in excitement when he reaches you, “you did it baby! game winning touchdown, you secured our spot in the playoffs!”
rafe wraps one arm tightly around your waist, his free hand gripping his helmet by his side as he lifts you up off the ground. you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, cupping his cheeks with your hands and placing hundreds of kisses to his face, landing one on his lips before he sets you back onto your feet.
you lift yourself onto your toes, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, “so, you wanna hurry and get outta here? don’t bother showering”
rafe glances down at you, an amused smirk on his lips. he brings his bottom lip between his teeth, releasing it quickly and opening his mouth to speak before he’s approached by a reporter.
“rafe! good game tonight, tell us about your strategy for game nights”
rafe smiles softly, turning to face you, dipping his head down to whisper in your ear, “go wait for me by the locker rooms, this’ll only take a second baby”
you giggle, bringing your own bottom lip between your teeth and nodding your head.
quickly turning on your heels you rush toward the sidelines to gather your stuff before making your way toward the locker rooms. you pull your phone out of your cheer bag, opening instagram and scrolling through the endless posts about tonight’s game.
you stand and scroll for about ten minutes when you finally hear rafe’s voice, “hey baby, ready to go home?”
you stared at your boyfriend in awe, he looked so sexy, black face paint smeared under his eyes, hair messy from sweat and his helmet, and his goddamn football pants, squeezing him in all the right places, making you ache.
you needed him, and you didn’t think you could wait the fifteen minutes it took to get back home.
“baby… i- i don’t think i can wait until we get home.. i need you now..” you say softly, batting your lashes innocently at him.
he narrows his eyes, cocking his head to the side in question before it finally hits him what you’re hinting at.
he exhales deeply, “fuck, you wanna fuck here? where?”
you bite at your bottom lip, eyes darkened over in lust as you grab his hand and pull him into the locker room. it was empty, everyone else having left by now.
you pull him toward the showers, reaching inside and turning one on before dropping his hand and pulling your cheer top over your head.
rafe sucks in a sharp breath, his eyes scanning the length of your body, “fuck baby. you look so fucking sexy”
“stop talking, show me how sexy you think i am baby”
he quickly drops his bag and his helmet on the ground, stepping toward you and wrapping his hand around your throat, pulling your lips into his.
you moan into his mouth, allowing him to slip his tongue inside. he tightens his grip on your throat, pushing your back into a wall, his lips never leaving yours.
he pulls himself back, his lips swollen and red as his eyes search your face for any signs of wanting to stop and go home instead.
your hands fly to his football pants, quickly undoing the button and pulling them down his legs. you bite at your bottom lip when you see his bulge pressed tightly against his briefs, “someone’s excited, isn’t he?” you tease.
rafe growls when your small hand palms him through his briefs, gently rubbing at his hard cock.
he pushes your hands away, pulling his jersey and pads off of his upper body, tossing them to the floor as well. he quickly moves his hands to your ass, gripping tightly at the flesh before he slowly pulls the zipper down and making your skirt fall to the floor.
his eyes scan your entire body, making your panties grow wetter under his intense gaze. you take advantage of his eyes on you, slowly moving your hands to the back of your bra and unclasping it, letting the straps fall from your shoulders slowly until the lace material hits the ground.
you move to your panties next, slowly sliding them down your legs until you’re completely naked for him. you turn your body so your back was facing him, slowly bending yourself down to gather your clothes from the floor, giving him a perfect view of your soaked pussy.
a loud squeal is pulled from you when rafe aggressively grabs at your arms, pulling you into the hot shower. he throws you into the shower wall, a dark look in his eyes as he watches you squirm from his touch, “such a fucking slut, wanting to be fucked by your boyfriend in a semi public place? you get off on knowing anyone of my teammates, any of my coaches, or any of your girls could walk in on us at anytime?”
you try and answer him, but you’re so turned on, brain short circuiting as you take in his perfect body, his hard, thick cock staring at you, begging to be touched, “i-i.. y-yes?” you answer weakly.
rafe chuckles, his hand flying to your throat again and squeezing lightly. he uses his grip on your throat to push you onto the cold shower floor, your knees already starting to hurt from the hard ground below you.
“go on, be a good fucking girl, suck my cock”
you quickly obey, softly grasping his cock in your hands and pumping him slowly. you smirk to yourself when you hear him groan, glancing up and seeing his head thrown back in pleasure as you worked his cock with your hands.
you lick at his tip, tasting the precum that had leaked from him and humming in satisfaction, “taste so good daddy”
a low growl emits from rafe’s throat, his hands flying to the back of your head. he grips your hair between his fingers, shoving his cock down your throat without warning.
you begin gagging around him, his swollen head hitting the back of your throat repeatedly as he harshly thrusts himself into your mouth. the grip on your hair tightens, shoving himself as deep as he could and stilling inside you.
he takes his free hand and begins stroking at your cheek softly before pulling back and landing a harsh smack to the skin. his hand makes it way to your throat, fingertips running over the bulge from where his dick sat, “so goddamn pretty with your throat full of my cock. could stay like this forever baby girl”
he harshly pulls your head back, making himself slip from your mouth with a pop, strings of spit pulling from your mouth. you begin gasping for air, your eyes glued on rafe, lashes fluttering.
“up and turn. gonna fuck this pussy so good you won’t be able to walk tomorrow”
you quickly rise to your feet, your knees red and sore from being on the ground so long but you push the thought to the back of your mind. you turn and face the wall, pressing your hands firmly against the cold tile.
rafe wraps an arm around your waist, his fingers instantly finding your clit and rubbing sloppy circles around it. a soft whimper falls from your lips, pushing your ass out further, chasing more of his touch.
rafe cups your pussy, his palm pressed firmly against your clit while he ran his thick fingers through your folds, teasing at your entrance.
he shoves his middle finger inside you, slowly thrusting it while applying more pressure to your clit with his palm.
“awe, my girls already clenching around my finger, can’t wait to fuck this sweet pussy, fill you up with my cum. you want that baby?”
you whine, your hips bucking forward when he shoves another finger inside your sopping cunt. your head goes back, landing on his toned chest, eyes squeezed shut as you focused on the pleasure, your orgasm fluttering.
rafe slows the pace of his fingers, completely stilling them inside you. his free hand grips at your damp hair, pulling your head back and into an uncomfortable position, forcing your eyes on him, “s’not nice to ignore me baby, answer the question”
“yes! rafe please! want to be filled with your cum, please!” you beg, tears streaming down your face, mixing with the now lukewarm water streaming from the shower head.
rafe tuts, thrusting his fingers once, curving them slightly to toy with the spongey sweet spot inside you that has your cunt tightly clenching at his fingers, pulling them in deeper, “i don’t know baby… doesn’t seem like you really want it…”
he begins to slowly pull his fingers from inside you, but your hand flys to his, keeping his hand in place, keeping his fingers buried inside you, “rafe, please! need you so fucking bad”
you hear him chuckle, removing your hand from his wrist. he begins thrusting his fingers quickly, the squelching sounds of your pussy and your moans bouncing off the shower walls.
you feel your belly tightening, your orgasm threatening to burst from you when the sound of the locker room door opens. rafe’s free hand flys to your mouth, muffling your moans.
“cameron? you still here?”
rafe sighs when he hears his coaches voice, but he doesn’t stop his fingers, pushing them slowly in and out of you, an amused smirk on his lips when he feels you bite down on his palm to keep yourself from moaning.
“uh, yeah, just wanted a quick shower before i headed out”
his coaches footsteps approaching makes your heart begin to thump rapidly in your chest, the thrill of possibly being caught making you grow wetter.
“hell of a game you had tonight, i expect that type of energy from you in the playoffs”
rafe clears his throat, “thank you coach, you know i’ll give my all in that playoff game, don’t you worry”
your eyes roll into the back of your skull, chest tightening when rafe curves his fingers again, toying at your gspot. cocky son of a bitch was getting off on this, was enjoying making you squirm when his coach was only a few feet away.
“i know you will son. alright, well i’m headed out, see you at practice tomorrow. ten am sharp, don’t be late!”
“yes sir”
his coaches footsteps recede, the sound of the door closing making rafe drop his hand from your mouth, “i knew you were a fucking slut, fuck that was hot. i think you got more turned on at the idea of him catching us, didn’t you baby?”
rafe’s words followed by the slow and sensual thrusts of his fingers send you flying over the edge, your orgasm bursting from you in leg shaking euphoria.
rafe’s fingers fuck you through your high before slowly pulling them from you. he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking your arousal from them, a satisfied groan falling from him when he tastes you on his tongue.
he wastes no time grasping his thick cock in his hand, pumping himself a few times before he begins sliding his thick head through your folds.
you squirm, pushing your ass out further, his tip pushing into you slightly, before he pulls it back out.
“rafe!” you whine, your pussy aching to be stretched by his thick cock.
you gasp loudly, your hands slightly sliding down the wall when he shoves himself inside you, his cock stretching you out, making you walls tightly squeeze him.
“fuck, feels so good baby, so fucking wet and tight. don’t think i’ll last long if you keep squeezin’ me like that”
you’re moaning loudly, your tits bouncing with each snap of rafe’s hips. he wraps an arm around your waist, fingertips dragging down your bare stomach to your clit. he rubs slow circles around your puffy, sensitive clit, pulling more whines and whimpers from you.
you throw your head back, back arched as you begin moving your hips in sync with his, meeting each of his thrusts, pushing him further inside you.
“shit! ‘m gonna cum baby!” rafe groans, his fingers sloppily rubbing at your clit while he continues his harsh thrusts.
he runs his hand up your body, wrapping it around your throat and pulling your back flush into his front. he captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth when you moan.
you feel his thrusts growing sloppy, your walls tightly clenching around him, trying to milk him dry. he breaks the kiss, his face burying into the crook of your neck as his dick twitches, his hot cum filling you up.
his teeth nip at the skin of your neck, raspy curses and groans falling from his lips as he continues fucking into you, trying to help you reach your second orgasm of the night.
“c’mon baby, cum all over daddy’s cock, let me have it”
“fuck fuck fuck, rafe! ‘m cumming!”
the band snaps, your second orgasm rushing from you and soaking rafe’s cock.
you fall limp, his arms the only thing keeping you upright. he chuckles, placing a soft kiss to your neck and slowly pulling himself from inside you.
“took me so well baby, did such a good job. c’mon let’s get you home and in bed, okay?”
you slowly nod your head, exhaustion hitting you hard, “i love you, rafe” you breathe out, voice soft and weak as you try and catch your breath.
he quickly turns off the shower, grabbing the two of you some towels from a shelf and wrapping yours around your body, “i love you too sweet girl, now let’s get you home”
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RAFE TAGLIST: @ivy-34 @rafeism @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @starkeypankowsbae @lizcameron @m-1234 @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @alexisbaumann2004 @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @mel119g @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @jjmaybankisbae @lexasaurs634 @softlilacarrest @fayerite @exhaustedbutelated @lyndys @urmyslxt @sierraluvz @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @daivny @vhour @emma77645 @rafeinterlude @inluvwithmorales @mannstarkey @digitaldiary111 @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @personalfavsthatarerandom
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billysgun · 5 months
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bandage
billy the kid x sheriffs!daughter |requested!| after you found him wounded, you took him back to your house where you healed a very flirty billy.|
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"you're a mess" you mumbled, hands working fast as you pressed the clean cloth into his wound
he spits through gritted teeth as he lays sprawled on your table
"lucky I found you" you whisper, thinking about how unlikely anyone else would be out in the fields when his horse flipped him over and dragged him with his hands gripped tight on the rein, splitting his leg open
"am I?" he grunts as you wipe the blood around his open leg
"why didn't you let go of the damn horse?" you scolded him but he only let out a pained chuckled
"can't lose my stuff, honey. plus your daddy would've done shit for it" he grins at you, nodding toward the framed certificate hung on the wall with your father's license. he's the local sheriff and would kill you for having this out-law on your dining table
"he works with crimes, not stupid accidents" you mumbled, grabbing the needle and threading it through his skin as he screamed out in pain
"he's a corrupted piece of shit you know" he yells out as you stitch him up, you snort at his comment, thinking it was bold of him to so openly hate on your family while you healed him. then again, the whiskey you had him chug for the pain was probably taking its effect
"and this was a crime, dear" he adds, and you look up at him
"tell me more, cowboy" you say sarcastically but he only smiles
"yeah well, I will! someone was shootin' my way and almost hit my horse, that's why he was runnin'!" he confesses and you tie the end of your stitch
"stray bullets sometimes happen, it is huntin' season" you mumble as you do a few more ties for good measure
"nah, people want me dead, dear" he relaxes when you step back and you undo your bloody apron
"downside of being an outlaw, I suppose?" you question and he lets out an airy laugh
"I need to get going though, thank you" he says, twisting his body over and you run to push him back down
"no, no, no. you ain't walkin' on that leg for at least 2 weeks" you say but he dismisses you, putting his weight on the other leg as he drags himself to the exit of your dining room
"guess that means I'll need a follow-up visit?" he smiles and you roll your eyes
"that would be nice. because of the leg" you add and he slowly nods
"right, for the leg" and just like that the outlaw was gone and you ran upstairs to mark 2 weeks from now in your planner with a grin like no other spread on your face.
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an: thank you so much for requesting! I had so much fun making this <3
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This Garden You've Grown ❀
Wriothesley catches you where you shouldn't be, little did he know, you were just the right person, in just the right place.
wriothesley x fem!reader II fluff, romance
part two ♡ part three ♡
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"I'll need you to come with me, miss."
You whirled around, a basket full of perfectly bloomed tulips clutched in your hand. Before you stood a large, burly-figured man, dawning a set of spiky cuffs and a grim expression. You recognized this man as none other than Wriothesley---Duke of the Fortress Meropide. But what did he want with you?
All you had been doing was enjoying your time in your favorite spot outside the city---a small plot in a lush expanse of fields you'd made your own personal garden; growing all sorts of plants, including the pretty pink tulips you'd just been harvesting. You'd found this place a handful of months ago on a stroll outside The Court of Fontaine's grounds---needing a break from city life. It was so easy to get wrapped up in the buzz of the bustling streets and forget the beauty of nature. You'd decided it was a waste to leave a perfectly fertile field unused, so you began your garden.
...that you were now being arrested in.
"Excuse me?", you asked politely, needing clarification as to why he wanted to take you away.
"You heard me, don't make this difficult.", the duke had an irritated look on his face, like he was reprimanding a bratty child that knows better than to do what they did.
...but really you had no clue what you did!
You frantically squabbled to find your words as he descended on you---his strides slow but covering much more distance than your quick, short legs could as you scurried backwards away from him. Once he reached grabbing distance from you, preparing his cuffs as his large hand gripped your squishy bicep, you managed to squeak out, "but what did I do?" as he dragged you to him.
For a moment, he haulted his actions, holding you against him and taking in your genuinely perplexed, even fearful expression. Had you really not known what you were doing?
"You're trespassing on restricted grounds.", he clarified.
Your face paled.
"...I am?", you asked, panic rising to your throat.
He nodded sternly, "These grounds are property of the city, common folk are not allowed to enter without licensed permission,", he leaned over slightly to peer into your basket, "even if it is just to pick tulips.".
Your mouth fell open as you looked between your basket and Wriothesley, whose intimidating attention on you was beginning to make you feel suffocated. All you could manage to come up with in your anxious brain frog was, "Oh...". Your mind was screaming---you couldn't go to Meropide, not over this!
The clear horror and confusion in your eyes, paired with how you'd begun to shake in his grip stilled him. Normally, this is when criminals would start pleading for their freedom, making bribes to circumvent the law, but you just froze like a deer in headlights.
From where he stood, it appeared that you'd been knowingly stealing properly-grown-goods from a city-owned field with the possible intent to sell them; but the innocent expression on your face told him otherwise. If selling your stolen goods was truly was your intent, you wouldn't relinquish them without a price. So he decided to run a little test.
"Maybe, if you offered me those tulips, I could look the other way.".
He braced for your bartering, your indignance or anger...
...what he didn't expect was your forlorn expression; how your eyes became heavy as you looked down at your flowers, your poor lip quivering as you held out your basket for him to take without hesitation.
A criminal wouldn't relinquish their goods so readily, and they definitely wouldn't look so broken hearted over something they'd merely stolen.
No, these flowers were special to you.
In any other case, he wouldn't have hesitated or cared about motives when prosecuting a trespasser...but something about you moved him.
His hand gingerly covered yours and pushed your basket back to your chest.
"I can see these are important to you, and you have no ill-intent, but you're still breaking the law by coming here.", he looked dissapointed---you were a perfectly good person, and you'd looked so happy before he showed up; you didn't deserve this.
You quickly nodded, hope in your eyes as you squeezed your basket tighter, "I'm sorry! I won't come back!".
The duke let out a long sigh, but nodded---satisfied with your answer. He felt guilty for ruining your fun, he hadn't known you'd get so scared over something so minor. He wished he'd handled you more delicately. "Don't go taking anything else from the field...but you can keep the flowers you picked. I won't tell.".
There was hesitation in your eyes as you looked up at him cautiously, "...you're sure?".
"Of course. I couldn't deprive you of something you clearly love so much.". Though his words were kind, his stern expression did not leave his face---maintaining his rough law-man exterior so as not to look soft in the face of crime.
"Thank you..." you said, your voice almost like a whisper as you touched the soft petals of the flowers you'd nurtured to full growth, then looked back at the rest of your field sorrowfully. This was a goodbye to your project---to the little respite you'd made for youself outside the city.
His eyebrows furrowed, you looked like your house had just burnt to the ground before your eyes. There had to be something he was missing.
"...if I may ask, why would you risk trespassing in a restricted area just to pick flowers? Did you think you wouldn't get caught? Or did you just not care about the rules?", you felt the rumble of his gruff voice in your chest---having just realized you were still pressed right up against him.
You looked down bashfully, half from your proximity to the dashing, rugged gentleman, and the other half from the admission you were about to make.
"...I wasn't aware this area was restricted...I'd actually planted this garden quite a while ago. I've been coming back every day to care for it ever since.". You were nervous that the details of your situation that you were disclosing might get you into greater trouble, but you couldn't just leave your garden with no one to care for it---at least if you're honest, the city might hire someone to nurture it in your stead, rather than just leaving it to die.
If you looked closely, you could see a twinkle of realization in the duke's eyes, though he masked it well.
"...I see...", not only did you not intend to tresspass, you weren't actually stealing either. All of this garden, save for the ground it is planted on, belongs to you. "I'm willing to make an exception for you, but in the future, make sure you're aware of the laws and regulations before you enter a restricted area.".
You nodded obidiently, something Wriothesley approved of in criminals, but made his heart twinge with guilt seeing a person with good intentions like you comply out of intimidation.
"I understand, sir. I'll vacate immediately."
You'd begun to step away from him, but he easily pulled you back, drawing your concerned gaze. You wondered if there was something else you had to do to right your mistake; was he going to have you tear up your beloved garden as well? That would truly devastate you.
He was quiet for a moment as he looked on at your lush garden and weighed his decision in his mind. Then, he looked back down into your innocent, breathtakingly adorable eyes and spoke, "...you may continue your gardening as long as you don't expand it. Don't go past the tilled land.", he pointed the boundary out to you, "Understand?".
His eyes widened as he met your gaze once again; he didn't think your eyes could get any prettier, but the way they glittered in excitement had his heart doing summersaults---and your pleased smile filled him with a sense of accomplishment.
You nodded gratefully, it was like he'd just given you the world, "I understand. Thank you so much for letting me keep it."
With that, he nodded curtly, then turned to leave; he didn't want to bother you more than he already had.
But before he could exit the grounds, you piped up, "...would you like to see what else I'm growing?".
You'd caught him by surprise; he slowly turned back to face you, taking a moment to process the question, before nodding, "Sure. Love to.". That sense of accomplishment once again bloomed in his chest as his simple agreement to be given a tour of your project brought the brightest smile to your face.
You quickly ushered him over, looping your arm through his to tote him from destination to destination; pointing out the various plants you'd been growing and telling him about each and every one.
"These are cherry heirloom tomatoes; they're a little more citrussy and sweet than regular tomatoes, and obviously, they're teeny. I like putting them in salads.", you picked one off the vine and held it up for him to try. He inspected it for a moment, before cleaning it on his shirt and popping it into his mouth. His eyes lit up as the taste hit him---these were really good. Better than anything he could buy at the market, that's for sure. You continued on with your little tour, "This is lavender---it smells wonderful.".
He chuckled at your interesting collage of plants, "the tomatoes I can understand, but what's with the lavender?", he didn't find much point in growing anything inedible in a garden.
The sun perfectly illuminated your rosy cheeks and cheerful smile as you beamed up at him, "The smell helps me sleep, and sometimes I like to dry bundles of it and give them away as gifts.".
His expression once again became thoughtful and judicial before he replied, "If you have trouble sleeping, then by all means, grow as much lavender as you want. But you can't go giving them out to the public.". He felt guilty for suddenly imposing all these rules onto your passion project, but it was his job to maintain order. You didn't oppose, only nodded in understanding.
"Ok, I won't give any away...", you reached down and picked a few vibrant purple, fully bloomed sprigs, then sinched them together with a little roll of twine you keep in your gardening basket, "...but would it be ok if I gave you some?". You outstretched you hand to him, head tilted as your eyes almost begged him to take the gift.
You were such a sweetheart.
"...you don't have to, but if you really want to give me some lavender, you can..." he carefully took the bundle from your outstretched hand---his fingers brushing yours in a way that made your cheeks turn pink, "I won't refuse.". Your eyes widened in surprise when he flashed you a wolffish grin, this was the first time his stoic expression broke. You were dazzled.
You found yourselves admiring one another in silence; you were infatuated with his smile, he was infatuated with your kind, gentle expression. For a moment, it felt like both your hearts were beating as one---racing together through your chests...and you two were standing awfully close for strangers.
You'd lost yourself so completely in him, you didn't realize how long you'd been standing like that. Once you came to your senses, you shook your head right and looked away from him shyly as you found your words, "If you put it in a vase beside your bed, it'll help you fall asleep...".
He continued to admire you as his grin became a softer smile. No one had ever offered him lavender as a gift before, and your desire to help him sleep peacefully touched him, even though it wasn't a problem he struggled with.
"Thank you. You really didn't have to do that."
The duke's mind was practically spinning with new emotions. You were pretty, sure, but your sweet nature, your compulsion for compassion, your friendliness to someone who is not only a stranger, but had nearly been an assailant not too long ago, reached deeply into him and practically claimed his heart just as you had claimed this garden.
It was yours now---because of what you cultivated in it.
Your smile really couldn't get more wonderful, but the doting look you gave him made him sigh contentedly.
"I know I didn't have to, I wanted to! You've been so generous with me, I want to be generous with you too..."
Wriothesley, who had never been in love before, wouldn't have guessed that a single meeting with a stranger could make him fall so hard. He had only just met you, but he felt like he'd been searching for you forever, and in a way, that means he's already known you longer than anyone else.
If he could stay in this garden with you forever, he would, but he had important duties that demanded his attention. Regretably, he had to take his leave.
He flashed you one last charming smile before parting with you.
"Thank you...I won't forget this.".
He felt like he had to assure you; like promising he'd keep them was promising he wasn't going to let you go. He cherished the grateful smile you gave him, and with one last wave, he departed.
...he'd have to patrol this area more often.
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cameronspecial · 6 months
Note
Saw your post asking for Zach Maclaren request so here I am!
What about reader getting run over by the car instead of Zach and she looses her memory kinda like the movie but reversed? She thinks Zach is her bf cause she has a bf named Zach but he’s an asshole.
The Other Zach
Pairing: Zach MacLaren x Reader
Warnings: Swearing and Getting Hit By A Car
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 3.2K
Masterlist
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Yet another argument with her boyfriend. Yet another time she is walking home upset. Even worse, it’s three in the afternoon so everyone on the street can watch her sad walk home. She feels like everyone around her is staring, judging her for staying with such a dick. As she walks across the parking lot with her head in the clouds, a soccer ball comes rolling toward her. Y/N’s eyes dart up to see Zach MacLaren walking over to her with a big smile, pointing down at the ball to ask her to send it over. She bends down to pick it up, but as she starts to straighten out, a sudden force from behind her sends her head smashing to the pavement. 
Zach watches the whole thing happen before his very eyes. He screams at his sister’s soccer team to stay there and runs to make sure the driver doesn’t try to keep reversing over Y/N. Everyone knew her. She works at the cafe on campus and is known to brighten everyone’s day. Once the driver knows he hit someone and is on the phone with the dispatcher, Zach goes to check on Y/N. She is out cold and this causes him to panic. He checks for a pulse. Relief floods him when he finds one and it is only a matter of her waking up. Her eyes flutter open and her vision is blurry. There is a face over her that she can’t make out. “My name is Zach,” she overhears the unidentifiable face. Her boyfriend. He must have gone after her to apologize. She starts to see more clearly and she wraps her arms around his neck. Her lips try to find him, but he pulls away. “Hey, take it easy. You got hit pretty hard in the noggin,” he advises, looking up at the sound of the ambulance.
——
The paramedics are about to take Y/N away, but she stops them from taking her. She looks at Zack, “Aren’t you going to come with me?.” He looks at her and his heart is pulling him to enter the vehicle, but he doesn’t feel it is right. He has no relation to her in any way. The paramedic counsels it might be better if he comes to help keep her calm and now, he feels he has no choice. “Of course, I just need to make sure an adult can stay with my soccer team. I’ll be right back,” he informs. He heads over to the field’s sidelines, talking to one of the waiting moms about what happened. He is reassured that she will make sure all the kids get home safely, so he heads back to the ambulance. 
After the doctor does his assessment, Zach and Y/N learn she has a concussion and probably amnesia. Zach could definitely a test to the last part since she seems to think he is her boyfriend. “Sweetie, what happened are you okay?” an older woman, who looks like Y/N, frets, rushing to her. Zach assumes this is Y/N’s mom and goes in to reassure her, “She has a mild concussion and amnesia.” The man with the mother raises his eyebrow. “And are you her doctor?” he questions. Zach shakes his head, “No, I’m Zach. I was with her when she got hit by the car.” The man nods and her mother’s eyes light up. “So you’re the boyfriend. It is so nice to meet you, I’m Kim and this is Gary. We are Y/N’s parents. She’s told us so much about you,” Kim introduces. Y/N goes on to complain, “Way to keep it cool, Mom.” “I’m sorry, Sweetie. But he is so cute and seems nice,” Kim apologizes. Zach feels strange about just letting the family believe he is actually Y/N’s boyfriend, but there isn’t exactly a good time to say that while in the hospital. The doctor returns to speak with her parent, so Zach excuses himself to call someone for advice. 
“Guess where I am,” he whispers into the phone. Zoey checks the time, “Coaching your sister’s soccer practice?” “No. I’m at the hospital,” he replies. She sits up from her lying position on the couch, “Are you okay? What happened?”
“I’m fine. It’s just that Y/N Y/L/N got hit by a car. Now, she and her whole family think I am her boyfriend.”
“Elle says she is dating a Zach. Zach Davis. He’s the captain of the hockey team. She just sent you his Insta.” 
While Zach scrolls through the other Zach’s profile, the doctor catches his attention. “Oh, and Mr. Boyfriend. Make sure she stays calm. We wouldn’t want anything stressing her out and making her conduction worse,” she instructs before walking off. Zach groans into the phone, “What am I supposed to do if I can’t stress her out?” “Okay, calm down. Just take her parents aside and let them break the news to her,” Zoey explains. Calm washes over his face, “Yes, that’s a great idea. You are one smart cookie, Zoey Miller.” They bid their goodbyes and he heads back to the Y/L/Ns. 
“Zach, you’re back. We were just talking about you. How would you like to come over for dinner tonight?” Kim asks, helping Y/N sit up so she can get ready to be discharged. It’s like the perfect opportunity falls into his lap.
——
He walks into the Y/L/N’s residence, helping Y/N onto the couch. “Your parents have a nice house,” he looks around the room. As soon as they are settled on the couch, a little boy pops up from behind the couch with a scream. A man a little bit older than Zach sets himself on the chair beside the couch. “Connor, don’t scare her. She has a concussion,” he chides the younger boy. Y/N sighs, “Zach, this is my little brother, Connor. And my older brother, uhh…” “Jared. His name is Jared,” Connor offers with a devious smile. Y/N nods, “Right, Jared. This is my older brother, Jared.” Zach sees Connor’s giggles and leans towards her, “I think he is messing with you, Baby.” “Oh. I think you are right,” she rubs her forehead, trying to remember her brother’s name. “Jack. His name is Jack.” Jack lets out a cheer and holds out his hand for Zach to take. 
Soon, dinner is served and Zach sits beside Y/N. As Connor is recounting his day, Y/N goes to whisper in his ear, “Thank you for keeping up with my strange family. I know you didn’t want to meet them, but it means a lot that you are here.” Zach feels bad at the words she says. Why wouldn’t her real boyfriend want to meet her family? They are so kind and funny. And Y/N is amazing. Even with a concussion, she is so bright and genuine. He has always had a little bit of a crush on her, ever since she gave him a coffee on the house when she saw he was having a hard day. She wrote his name with a happy face and little hearts, which made his day. Sometimes he finds himself going where she works just to see her smile. 
“No problem. I think your family is great,” he says, looking at her with a smile. She grins back at him and slides her fingers through his hand on his lap. “Well, if you think we are so great, why don’t you come skiing with us this weekend?” Gary suggests, overhearing the whispers between his daughter and her (not) boyfriend. Zach knows the words about to come out of his mouth shouldn’t be the ones that follow, but he really does like her family and he wants to get the opportunity to get to know her better. He knows it is wrong to take Y/N’s moment of confusion and to take it as a chance to fill his delusion. However, he really doesn’t see any harm in pretending for the weekend. 
——
“Are you sure you don’t want to hit the slopes? You don’t have to stay behind just for me,” Y/N double-checks, looking at him behind the couch. He sits on the back of the couch and lets himself flop back on the seat cushion. He nods, “Yep. I think it would be nice to hang out with you.” “Really? Well, I’m a very busy gal, I have to check my schedule,” she teases, taking out her phone to look at her calendar. “Oh, look at that the only thing I have planned is to have a concussion. I guess we can hang out.” He grins at her and sits up, scooting closer to her. She scoots over to sit beside him, putting herself under his arms, which makes him happy. “What should we do?” he inquires, looking down at her with a smile. She plays at putting thought into it and drags him to the game room. 
They head over to the air hockey table, but she notices Zach’s gaze toward the foosball table. “We can play foosball if you’d like. I just thought you would like air hockey more since you are on the team,” she explains, changing way toward the other table. Zach has to quickly cover his tracks, “Uh, yeah. I do like hockey, but I’m better at foosball than air hockey.” 
The game they play fills the room with laughter. Zach would yell at her for cheating by spinning her knob, while she would argue she is just using her tools to her advantage. After her last spin causes the tiny ball to sail through the hole for the goal, Zach runs around to her side and picks her up by the waist. “That is the last time you cheat!” he playfully reprimands. Her laughter stops and her hand flies to her head. She starts to move in a dizzy-like motion with her hand still stuck to her head. “Are you okay? Did I grab you too hard? What can I do?” he worries, removing his hands from her to look into her eyes. The tiny giggles she lets out make him feel like she is evil, “I’m just playing with you. I’m sorry. But you can make us something to eat. I can’t use any screens and I have absolutely no recipes memorized.” 
—— 
She watched him in amazement as he made the pizza. She found it incredibly hot to watch him toss the pizza dough in the air. He flicked a little flour at her and she ran away with a shriek. After getting the pizza out of the oven, he helps her up onto the counter and cuts the food. She takes the first bite and the moan she lets out absolutely kills Zach. He finds the pizza held out in front of his mouth, taking a bite at her encouragement. He really hopes the food hides his blush. “This tastes great! Where did you learn how to cook?” she praises, going in for another bite. His blush deepens, “I took lessons as a kid. It was really fun.” Her eyebrows raised. “Really? I always saw you as a more, I will only do hockey because hockey is my life kind of guy.” 
“Right, hockey. I love socc- I love so much hockey, but I don’t think hockey is what I’m going to do after graduation.” 
“Why not? If you like it so much, why don’t you go pro?”
“I do like it, but let’s be honest, I’m not good enough to get drafted. Truth is I don’t know what I’m going to do after graduation.”
“I haven’t seen you play hockey much or really understand how it is played, but I’m sure that isn’t true. But anyway, if you don’t think hockey is your thing, I think opening a pizza place is your path. This is great.”
Although she doesn’t know he is talking about soccer, he loves that she can see him passed the athlete and see a different part of him. Most people he knows are just interested in him because of his sport. “So what do you want to do after graduation?” he questions, picking up another slice for himself. Her eyes light up, “I’m not too sure yet. I know I’m a computer science major, but I really just chose it because it can be a useful fallback. I think maybe I want to travel around the world and take pictures.” He is touched that she is so open and honest with her answer. He likes that even though her future seems uncertain, she is still hopeful about it. “That sounds amazing. If you need a travelling partner, then I would gladly go with you. I’m sure you are an amazing photographer,” he encourages. Again, a confused look crosses her face, “I thought you hated going outside of the US. You said that nothing good happens outside of America.” Zach fears that his lies are going to start to unravel. The universe seems to come in for the assist because her family comes back at that moment. 
“Hey, you two. What did you do today?” Kim ponders, giving Y/N a kiss on her cheek. She smiles at her mom, “What didn’t we do?” Everyone over the age of eighteen widens their eyes and Zach helps clear things up. “All PG.” Completely missing the moment Connor pats his pockets. “I left my gloves at the lodge. We have to go back,” he panics. Zach jumps off the counter and pats his back, “Don’t worry, Con. Y/N and I can go with you to get it.” 
They get to the lodge and Connor runs inside to get his gloves. Zach turns to Y/N to find her making a snowman. “Need some help?” he proposes, walking over to her. She nods with a smile and they get to work on the snowman. She makes the middle part while he forms the bottom and once she is done, she picks it up to bring it to him. She trips over her feet and goes flying toward him. He catches her as he falls back. The snow from her ball smushes between them. They both sit up while laughing. Her hair falls over her face and he brushes it out of the way, leaving his warm hand on her cheek. The sun lightens her hair and this moment feels perfect. He has been avoiding kissing her to not take advantage of her, but it felt right in the moment. His lips find hers and fireworks spark between them. He scoots forward to deepen the kiss, bringing his other hand up to her cheek until Connor comes out and ruins the kiss. 
——
The weekend comes to an end too fast for Zach. The group recounts their highlights of the mini-vacation, laughing that Connor’s favourite part was playing Battletoads with Zach. Zach is helping Y/N with her bags when the engine of a car catches their attention. “Y/N Y/L/N, you haven’t been answering my texts,” a low voice growls. Y/N freezes at the voice and turns toward the man. Distress washes over her, “Who are you?” She takes a step closer to Zach and he wants to curl his arms around her to make her feel protected. “Who am I? I’m Zach Davis, your boyfriend,” he shouts with his eyebrow knitted. Now, her family looks confused. “You can’t be her boyfriend because he is her boyfriend,” Gary points out, looking toward Zach. Her real boyfriend lets out a low laugh, “Of course, that bitch is cheating on me. Why am I not surprised?” Anger flushes through Zach. 
“Hey! Don’t talk about her like that. She isn’t cheating on you. It’s my fault she isn’t answering your texts; I lied to her. She got hit by a car and lost her memory. My name is also Zach and she thought I was her boyfriend. I didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth,” Zach clarifies. “I’m sorry for lying, Y/N. I just wanted to get to know you and I’m glad I got to because you really are the most amazing person I have ever met. I’m going to go now before I make this more awkward.” Before Zach is out of hearing distance, he can hear Connor complaining that he is better than Y/N’s actual boyfriend. This causes a sad smile to form on Zach’s face.
——
It has been weeks since he last saw Y/N. He has been too embarrassed to go back to her parents’ house and only goes to class then back home. Zach is used to being the gossip of the campus because he is on the soccer team, but it feels a little different when people are talking about his deception. Zoey enters his dorm to find Zach watching a cooking show while eating ice cream. “You can’t just stay up here for the rest of your life,” she critiques, opening his curtains. He ignores her gaze, “Yes, I can. She said that I could open a pizza store.” His mind is blank except for thoughts of her. “I know she did. You’ve told me that a hundred times already,” Zoey gives him a tight-lipped smile.
“Why did I have to mess up so badly?”
“Because you were blinded by love. I can’t believe I just said that. But you like her. That’s why.”
“Right, and I had to lie to her, which broke her trust. Now, she is happily off with Zach Davis.” 
“You know they broke up, right? Like literally right after the ski trip.” 
“Really? Why?”
“That’s only a question that she can answer.”
——
Zach has been thinking about it all day and has decided to go see Y/N. Her bright smile is the first thing he sees when he enters the coffee shop. It makes his heart leap when it doesn’t drop at the sight of him. Instead, it softens, somehow getting warmer. “Hi,” he awkwardly greets, hand shooting up to the back of his neck. She breaths out, “Hey, I’ve been looking for you.” 
“Really?” 
“Yes, really. You disappeared on me the other day.” 
“Yeah, I didn’t think you would want to see me after you found out the truth.”
She whispers something to her co-worker and rounds the counter, taking off her apron on the way. She stands in front of him and takes his hand in hers. “I was a little upset at first, but then I realized that I couldn’t be mad at you. Do you want to know why?” she confesses. He nods his head like a child in anticipation. “Cause you are the Zach I want to be with. You helped me realize how much of an asshole Davis was to me. You treated me with so much love and made me feel safe.” Zach is ecstatic at her words and rushes forward to give her the kiss they have both been waiting for. It is soft but passionate, showing the need they both felt for each other. His arms round her body, engulfing her in the safety of his embrace. Zach Maclaren can’t believe he has found love with the girl he has always wanted.
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Hold Me Down (Is This A New Start?) - Rafe Cameron x Reader
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Summary: After a long, hard day of work you just want to go home and go to bed. But, when you get a persistent knock on your door from Rafe fucking Cameron. you know you’re gonna have a long night ahead. Letting him in, after two months of not seeing him, you fully anticipated a screaming match. But, you got something much different than you bargained for—much better too.
CW/TWs: brief angst, brief mentions of Rafe being on house arrest lol, feminine pronouns used, gorgeous/sweet girl/baby/darlin' as nicknames, toxic behavior, canon-adjacent Rafe, mean-ish Rafe, smut, piv sex, oral sex (male receiving), impact play, (not really) lowkey daddy kink, brat reader, dumbification, degradation kink, praise kink, overstimulation, breath play, unprotected sex (be safe I am nawt your mom gn), allusions to a pain kink for sure, mushy gushy sweet ending, not highly edited or reviewed
Words: 8.1k+
Note: 18+ MDNI, really just fucking don’t. I wrote this one in first person because writing in second person irritates my very soul. Uhhhh so this kinda came out of left field and I did nawt plan on writing this but here we are! But such is life! Anyways…back to regularly scheduled programming.
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It had been a long day - too long. There was something exceedingly exhausting about living paycheck to paycheck that the average person didn’t understand. There was nothing quite as specific as the exhaustion that you encountered by overworking yourself day after day, week after week, month after month, all for nothing. Because that’s what this all amounted to. Nothing. Nothing extra at the end of the week to take home, nothing to do anything nice with. Just nothing. And nothing sucked the joy out of your day like knowing you’d have to get up the next day and do it all over again.
When I’d finally gotten home from a shift that didn’t end until almost the crack of fucking dawn - a good twelve hours after I was supposed to have gotten off shift - there was not a thing I wanted more than to sleep. Still, even as I sat on my fucking couch, my woes could not end. There was a loud, demanding knock on the door.
The first time I ignored it.
The second time I ignored it.
The third time, an annoyed voice accompanied the knock.
“Baby, open the fucking door,” came the snarl from the other side. I groaned and ran my hands down my face. I really didn’t want to deal with Rafe today. Not like that had ever deterred him before. “Baby, come on. Listen. Please. The cops are fucking trolling around outside. Baby, please open the door.”
I groaned and pulled myself to my feet, opening the apartment door. Standing there, looking at pitiful as ever was Rafe fucking Cameron. The bane of my existence. My more-or-less on-again-off-again boyfriend—though I’d sooner bash my head against the door than admit that. I glared at the ass who had done nothing but make my life harder since he’d entered it. Then, I stepped to the side and let him in. He stepped in and closed the door quickly, locking it behind him. He turned to me and pressed an absent-minded kiss to my forehead before going to sit down on the couch.
“You look like shit, darlin’,” he said. When he even had the decency to look up and notice I was there.
“Thanks,” I said dryly. I looked down at his leg. His ankle monitor looked fucked. “What the fuck did you do this time?”
“Just a little mod,” he said casually. “I needed to get out for a minute.”
“Why did you come here?” I demanded. “Did you stash more fucking coke in my house I swear to fucking God I will kill you. I am not catching a fucking charge for you, asshole.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why would I leave my coke with you knowing that you’d throw it out, baby? That’s just bad business. Besides, darlin’ the cops aren’t outside for me some loser is probably getting caught selling a few doors down again. And hey? It’s a crime to want to see you now, darlin’?” he asked, winking.
“No. But it is a crime to skip out on house arrest, Rafe,” I said blandly. “And I know damn well that you’re not here because you want to see me. I’m just convenient to you like fucking always.”
He rolled his eyes as if I were being the dramatic one. “What’s wrong now, gorgeous?” he drawled. “Always seems like there’s something these days, hmm?”
I clenched my jaw. “Fuck you, Rafe. Get the hell out,” I snapped.
Rafe frowned. Stood again and walked over to me. He placed his hands on my hips, refusing to leave. I, in turn, refused to look at him. “Look at me, darlin’,” he demanded. Reluctantly I did. “What’s wrong?” I didn’t answer. He brushed my hair back from my face and just kept looking at me. “Come on, sweet girl. Tell me…what’s wrong.” He smiled to himself when I still didn’t answer. “You know better than anyone I’m not going to leave until you tell me, baby…so come on…what’s wrong with my sweet girl?”
“Fuck you,” I repeated weakly, pulling out of his arms. I plopped down on my couch, curling into myself and closing my eyes. “Just fucking leave when you see the cops are gone. I can’t be bothered today.” The asshole had the audacity to laugh at my words. “Shut the fuck up, Rafe.”
Dramatically, Rafe sighed and knelt down on the ground in front of me. I felt him grab my knees and pull me to face him. I had no choice but to unfurl, otherwise, I would’ve fallen into him, which I had no interest in doing. So, I leaned back into the couch, trying to ignore the heat of his hand sinking into my cold legs through worn jeans. It was hard to ignore that. Hard to ignore any of him, really. And he knew that. That’s why he only waited through my stubborn silence for a few minutes.
“Come on, baby,” he hummed. “Tell me what’s wrong. I’m sorry I’m a dick, darlin’…you know I care.”
I laughed weakly, eyes still closed. “No. No, you don’t,” I said flatly.
He ignored my words and kept rubbing my legs. “It’s so fucking cold in here, baby,” he commented. “And your legs are freezing. Your heat not working?”
“No, it's working. It’s just too fucking expensive to heat this shitty goddamn apartment and I’m not forking over more money to the cunt landlord,” I said sharply, glaring at him. “Did you suddenly forget what life is like if—” I cut myself off, shaking my head.
He had the audacity to glare back if you could believe it. Then, he slapped my inner thigh. “I told you to call me if you needed help,” he hissed. He slapped my other thigh. “The fuck are you doing? What game are you playing at, baby?”
I pushed him away from me with my foot. “A game where I don’t need to rely on a man who is a fucking wannabe felon,” I snapped.
He rolled his eyes and got to his feet. “Newsflash, baby, you do need me,” he said, sounding way too smug about it.
“Fuck you, Rafe. I need a bullet to the brain more than I need you,” I sneered.
“That’s cute.” He continued on like I didn’t even speak in the first place. “I could give you that, if you want. But that doesn’t change anything about it, darlin’. You need my money, you need my cock, you need my love. You’ve said it yourself that no one gives it to you as good as I do. And I know you haven’t been looking which means you’re still as invested in this as I am. So.” He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. “When I tell you if you need my fucking money to heat your stupid apartment because your ass is too stubborn to move in with me…then you fucking call me.”
“You are not my fucking father,” I snapped, pulling out of his tough.. “Like I said. Bullet to the fucking brain before this shit anymore. I’m sick of it.”
“I don’t know. You do call me daddy a lot,” he mocked. He smiled down at me, but there was hardly any warmth to it. “But, oh? You’re so sick of it, hmm? You want to be brainless?” He laughed. “Well, I can make you brainless without having to put a hole in your pretty little head.” He wound his hand tightly in my hair, pulling my face towards his while I sharply inhaled. “And you’ll remember exactly why you’re not done with me, gorgeous.”
I glared at him. “I haven’t seen you in two months. The last time I did see you, you called me a stupid, worthless cunt and told me that you never wanted to see me again. And you think you can just show up here and get me to listen to you?” I demanded. I felt my face heating with my frustration. “Just like that? You think you’re…you think you’re worth me listening to?” I laughed. “Like I said. Fuck you, Rafe. I deserve…I deserve so much better than this. Than you.”
There was a mocking pout on his face. He reached out and grabbed my face again, squeezing my chin. “You think you’re going to find someone better than me?” he asked incredulously. He let out a laugh. “And where do you think you’ll find someone like that?” I didn’t answer. I refused to give him the satisfaction. He chuckled, but then his face went serious. “I’m sorry that I haven’t seen you in months, darlin’. I’m sorry that I said I never wanted to see you again. I was pissed, sweet girl. I didn’t mean it.”
“Oh you never mean it,” I said, the sarcasm’s impact dampened by the tearful sound of my voice.
He moved his hand from my chin to cup my face. I hated myself for it, but I did lean into the touch. “Come on, sweet girl…don’t be like that, baby,” he said. He leaned forward and dropped a kiss to the side of my neck. “You know that I love you.” Another kiss, followed by a short nip. “I’ve been busy, darlin’. That’s all. I’m sorry. I should’ve called, sweet girl. I know that. I’m not mad.”
“You were mad,” I accused, glaring at him.
“I was mad, baby,” he said, deceptively calm. “I was…frustrated that you wouldn’t let me take care of you. I just want what’s best for you. But I’m not mad anymore.”
“Well maybe I’m mad at you,” I retorted, harshness still lessened by the teary voice and the way I leaned into him.
“That’s okay,” he practically cooed. He pressed another kiss to my neck then moved so we were face to face, just a breath between us. He smirked, eyes drifting down to my lips and then back up. “You can be mad at me as long as you want, sweet girl. Just as long as you tell me that you love me.”
I sighed and closed my eyes. “No,” I said stubbornly.
“Come on, sweet girl, please,” Rafe purred, stroking my neck with his hand lazily. “I love you, darlin’.”
“I love you,” I said, voice breaking. My eyes popped open and I felt the tears in them.
Rafe’s smirk didn’t waver, but his eyes did soften. He let out a hum and wiped a tear that slipped. “There’s my sweet girl,” he cooed. He leaned forward and pressed a long, languid kiss to my lips. “Let me make it up to you, baby.” Another long kiss—lazier this time. “Let me apologize for calling you names, baby.” Another kiss. “Remind you that you’re my special, sweet girl.”
I huffed. “Oh so you wanna fuck me and suddenly I’m not a stupid, worthless cunt then?” I spat, voice dripping insecurity.
Rafe rolled his eyes so hard I was shocked that his eyes didn’t stick in the back of his head. “You’re not a stupid, worthless cunt. You’re my sweet girl and you know it,” he drawled. “I was a little fucking high when I said that. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”
I gave him a withering glare. “Oh and you’re not high now?” I asked even though I could already tell he wasn’t. He gave me a flat look and I deflated, leaning back, covering my face as I leaned against the arm of the couch. I sniffled. “Okay, I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. I didn’t mean it.”
He chuckled dryly and rubbed my leg gently. “It’d be fair if you did,” he drawled. He squeezed my leg. “And it’s fine that it’s not fair, sweet girl. I wasn’t fair. So.” He grabbed my legs and lowered them both to the floor. He gently pried my legs open leaning further into my space, hands dancing up both my thighs now. “How about I be real nice and make it up to you?”
“No,” I said stubbornly, glaring half-heartedly down at him. I felt his hand toy with the waist of my jeans, dancing just over the button. “I don’t want you to.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow, unconvinced considering I’d begun to lean into his space more, opening my legs to give him more space to occupy, more space to get closer. “Oh?” he posed, tone almost mocking. “You don’t want to?”
“No,” I corrected, grabbing his hand, putting it back on my hair to silently prompt him to grab it just as he did before. “I don’t want you to be nice.” I glowered at him .”It’s been two months, Rafe. I need…”
He let out a low chuckle, eyes dark with quickly emerging lust. “Fuck, darlin’, tell me…what do you need?” he asked.
I blinked slowly, still looking right into his eyes, intoxicated by him already from such a short time together. “I need you to take care of me like you always do,” I said quietly.
Immediately, his hand wound tightly through my hair and he rose to his feet, forcing me to tilt my head up. I felt my breath hitch in my throat as I looked up at him, my eyes wide and wanting. I bit my lip, eyes trailing slowly down his body, to his belt at my eye level, and then back up. He chuckled again, grinning down at me. He wound his hand a bit tighter in my hair making me let out a squeak as he dragged me just a bit closer to his body.
“You need me to take care of you?” he posed, tone just shy of mocking. “Need me to help turn off that gorgeous fucking brain of yours, baby?” He used his free hand to trail down my cheek, fingers briefly touching my neck and stopping there. “Need me to fuck you stupid, sweet girl?”
Taking a shaky breath, I reached out, hand loosely holding his belt buckle. “Yes,” I said breathlessly.
I reveled in the sudden, sharp sting in my cheek. “Try again,” he warned, voice raspy.
“Yes…please fuck me stupid, daddy,” I said, batting my eyes up at him. “I don’t wanna think anymore.”
“Fuck,” Rafe muttered, his voice raspier still, thick with lust. He chuckled and loosened his hand in my hair before dropping it. He took his shirt off and then knotted a hand back in my hair. “Okay, baby. I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of my sweet girl.” He stroked my cheek gently with his free hand before moving it to his belt buckle and undoing it with ease. He then smirked down at me, inclining his head. “Well? Take me out, darlin’.” I glanced down at his open belt but he tutted, tilting my chin back up. “No, baby. Keep your eyes on me.” His request was one that was most easy for me to accommodate considering I felt like I’d die if I looked away from him.
My hands trembled as I reached forward, taking the belt off of him. I was ready to throw it to the side but Rafe held out a hand. Without even questioning it, I placed it in his hand. He then set it to the side and gestured with his head at me to continue. Which, I happily did. I heard him let out a quiet chuckle as I undid the button on his pants and brought down the zipper without breaking eye contact. I almost hastily pulled down the fabric until it sagged the rest of the way down. I raised my eyebrows at Rafe in a silent plea.
“What, baby?” he asked, amused, tightening his grip on my hair. I let out a weak whine and pouted. “What? You gotta tell me what you want, sweet girl. Use your words.”
“I wanna see your cock,” I responded, hooking my hand on the hem of the waistband of his boxers. I tilted my head to the side, jutting my bottom lip out further. “Please, daddy.”
He let out a dark chuckle. “Okay, baby,” he drawled. I hummed, pleased with myself, and looked down, prepared to take his boxers off. But, he tutted, turning my head up with his grip on my hair so I’d meet his eyes again. “Nuh, uh, darlin’. Keep those gorgeous eyes on me still. Don’t you dare even think about looking at my cock yet, baby. Just get it out.”
“But—” I began to complain before being silenced with another warning slap on the cheek making me whine and pull back slightly; not that Rafe let me get very far.
“No but, baby. You listen to me. Be a good girl,” Rafe warned, tone darkening. “You know I want what’s best for you, right, sweet girl?” I nodded through teary eyes, looking back up at him. He cursed under his breath at the sight, tightening and then loosening his hand in my hair once more. “Good girl, baby. Such a good fucking girl. Now, get my cock out. And don’t even look at it.”
I shivered at the order but complied. I reached and used two fingers to gently drag the fabric of the boxers down until they too gave way, falling down past his knees. Using every bit of restraint I had, I kept my eyes locked on his, refusing to look at his dick even as it hung directly in front of my face. Rafe hummed, his free hand moving from his side to wrap around himself, pumping lazily. I swallowed, biting my tongue as a reminder to keep my eyes up. A mocking laugh fell from Rafe’s mouth at the sight and I felt my stomach tighten.
“Oh there’s my good girl,” he cooed. “She can finally fucking listen, huh? So proud of you baby. Little slut that you are, I didn't think you’d be able to do it.” I let out a tiny whimper at his words, feeling a growing, heated pit of arousal low in my stomach. I shifted slightly, just barely able to keep my eyes from falling down. He chuckled again and pursed his lips. “How about you take your clothes off for me baby? Then I’ll let you look all you want at your favorite part of me.”
“All my clothes, daddy?” I checked. He nodded. I all but raced myself to do so. I whipped off the shirt I had on with ease and shimmied out of my jeans easily enough. Sitting there in my bra and panties, Rafe told me to stop and so I paused, looking up at him. “Yes, daddy?”
“Nothing, darlin’…just wanna look at you a minute,” he said, eyes dark with lust. “So fucking pretty, baby. God on fucking high, can’t imagine what I did to deserve such a blessing.”
“Stop,” I dismissed, blushing.
“Nah, baby. You’re a fucking twelve-course meal and I plan to have all of ‘em,” he dismissed, stepping closer and grabbing my chin. “And you aren’t gonna say some dumb shit like that again. We clear, baby?”
“Yes, daddy,” I murmured, feeling his thumb ghost up to trace my bottom lip. My breath hitched in my throat and he seemed to remember himself.
He pulled away and smirked down at me. “Bra and panties off. Let me see that pretty pussy, darlin’. Been missing it so much while I was gone,” he purred. I shivered at his words but peeled them off, shivering at the cold feeling of the air against my nipples and the cool fabric of the couch against my exposed core, quickly growing wet. “Fuck you’re so pretty. Look at you…all this…just for me.” He came closer again—even more this time—and his hand loosely went around my jaw, jerking my head up. “You are just for me, aren’t you baby?” I nodded immediately. He glared, his voice gruffer. “Words, darlin’. Or I might not be inclined to be too nice to you.”
“Yes, daddy,” I said breathlessly, wide-eyed. “All yours. Just for you.” I felt my heart beating rapidly in anticipation of seeing Rafe smile down at me. “Daddy?”
“Yes, baby?” he asked, hand still hooked around my jaw.
“Can I look please?” I asked sweetly, pouting up at him.
His lips quirked into a smirk and he narrowed his eyes looking at me, appraising. “I don’t know, baby. You think I should let you?” he asked.
“Please,” I said, pouting. “I just wan’ you. Want to see you. Wanna have you.”
“Awe with my sweet girl saying all that, well how could I say no?” he drawled, removing his hand from my neck to trail back and join the other in my hair. “Go ahead and look, darlin’. Take as long as you’d like.”
Ever so slowly, I broke my eye contact with Rafe, trailing my gaze down to his dick. Rafe’s confidence even as he stood bare as the day he was born was one of the things that had initially attracted me to him. But, looking at him now, lazily pumping his hand over his cock while he smirked down at me? I don’t think that I’d ever been quite so down bad for him. Which was…concerning, maybe? Pathetic, perhaps? But I didn’t care. At that moment, with his long, thick dick just hovering right in front of me, all I could think about was how badly I wanted him. Of how long I’d wanted him…of how long I’d waited.
“What? I don’t even gotta fuck you to turn that pretty brain off anymore?” he said, voice an alluring growl as he let out a dark sort of chuckle. “Got you so trained to take my dick you don’t even try to fight it, do you sweet girl?”
I shifted at his words, suddenly feeling my core flutter at his words, clenching regrettably—miserably—around nothing. His smirk increased tenfold at that and he stepped closer so that there was practically no space between us, not that there had been much before. Now, his cock stood proudly just next to my face. Again, ever so slowly I raised my eyes to meet his again. And the desperation must’ve been clear in my gaze if the smug, self-satisfied look in his were anything to go by.
“And this was supposed to be for you,” he hummed. “My dumb little baby won’t be able to think for herself and tell me what she wants when I get started, will she?” I let out a pathetic little whimper. “You just need something in that sweet little pussy and your perfect mouth, huh?” His eyes trailed down to my lips, briefly displaying the heated desire he was feeling before moving to meet mine again. “Tell me one thing, darlin’, okay? Think your cute lil’ brain can take that?”
“Yes, daddy,” I said, voice coming out breathy. I squirmed slightly, squeezing my thighs together to avoid doing something like grinding on the couch and making him stop this before it even started.
“I don’t have too much patience before I gotta get in that tight fucking cunt, gorgeous,” he drawled. “So…tell me. You want me to eat that pretty pussy? Or do you want to choke on my cock?” He grinned, sharp-edged and shark-like. “It’s up to you.” An aborted moan came out of me at his words. The answer for me, right now, at least, was obvious. I glanced down at his dick and then back up. “Nuh uh, darlin’. You tell me which one you want.”
“I want you to fuck my throat,” I whined, looking up at him wide-eyed.
Rafe chuckled, hands tightening in my hair. “I’ll give you a pass on not addressing me properly this once because you said something so sweet, darlin’. But don’t do it again,” he said, half-mocking, half-warning. I nodded eagerly. One hand released my hair. He pat my cheek and then held my jaw tightly between two fingers. “That’s my girl.” The possessiveness dripped off his tone. “Now be good for daddy and open that fucking mouth.”
My mouth fell open without much thought after that. He grinned as I left it open, tongue sticking out just the way he liked it. His thumb pressed down on my tongue, head tilting slightly to the side as he looked at me. I moaned at even that simple feeling, my body practically trembling with want for him. But, for a good few long moments, that’s all he did, slowly pressing his thumb more against my tongue. But, after a few moments, he drew it away, using his free hand to lazily pump his cock—still only half-hard—in his hand. I inhaled shakily, eyes looking at his heavy cock, knowing the weight and feel of it without even touching it.
“Mmm,” Rafe said, letting out a leisurely sigh as he jerked himself off in front of me. “You want my dick, sweet girl?” I nodded eagerly, tongue still shamelessly hanging out of my mouth. “You want me to make you choke on my fucking cock, baby?” Again, I nodded and he groaned. “You’re so fucking sexy, darlin’, fuck.” I watched with rapt attention as a bead of pre-cum leaked from the tip of his dick. I heard Rafe chuckle not a moment later. “Holy shit are you drooling, baby? Fuck, you really want this dick, huh? Well, I don’t wanna leave you wanting.”
Rafe used the hand in my hair to bring my head closer and anchor it in place. His other hand still held his dick that he was bringing towards my awaiting mouth. The second I felt the tip of his dick touch my tongue I groaned in appreciation at finally having something, feeling myself growing wetter and wanting. Already, with him not even having touched me yet, I was a mess. Rafe knew it damn well too. He chuckled, slapping his dick against my tongue making me inhale sharply then let out a tiny little whimper.
“Should I stop teasing you baby?” he said, voice measured, even, and entirely unaffected—as if he were in a business meeting and not getting ready to ruin my throat. “Should I make sure you lose your voice tomorrow now?” I nodded as best I could while ensuring that his dick did not fall from my tongue which just made him let out another low groan. “Alright, then, baby. You asked for it. Time for you to put that fucking mouth to work.”
I barely had the time to inhale before I felt Rafe’s heavy member settling against my tongue. I let out a breathy moan, reflexively hollowing out my cheeks and bobbing my head to take him further into my mouth. I moved my hands to touch him and he slapped them away.
“No fucking hands,” he grunted, pulling my hair so I’d look up at him before pushing me down to the hilt of him, nose settling against his pelvis. He cursed and I felt his dick pulse in my mouth as he looked down at me, eyes dark and wanting. “So fucking pretty when I’m stretching your fucking mouth open, baby. Look at you. So fucking good.” My core fluttered again at his words, clenching and unclenching while I felt myself starting to dampen the couch slightly the wetter I got. “Gonna fuck your throat now, darlin’.”
With the minimal warning issued, he thrust heavily, pulling out of my mouth almost entirely before thrusting entirely back in. I forced myself to breathe through my nose, relaxing before something unfortunate could happen like my gag reflex being triggered. I moaned around him, using my tongue as little as I could find myself able to when he started to consistently, aggressively thrust himself to the back of my throat. I whimpered at the feeling, grinding absent-mindedly against the rough fabric of the couch, letting my tongue trace along the vein on the underside of his dick.
Rafe caught sight of my desperate rutting against the couch and he let out a dark, slightly breathless chuckle without interrupting the pace of his thrusting. “God, look at my desperate fucking baby. What, is daddy not taking care of you fast enough? Fuck,” he grunted. “You wanna grind like a desperate, needy, brainless little toy? I should make you fucking get off of my thigh without me touching you?” My choked whine of displeasure at the threat made him let out another mean sort of laugh. “Don’t worry, darlin’. That’s gonna be for later.” I let out another whine at the promise then. “Yeah, baby. Gonna make you get yourself off on my leg and then I’m gonna eat your pussy so good. Gonna make you cum for me at least five times before I stop. I’ll fucking tie you up if I gotta, gorgeous. Gonna make my sweet girl so overstimulated she’s not gonna think ‘bout anything but my fucking cock…my fucking mouth…my fucking hands.” Each word was punctuated by a pointed thrust down my throat. “As if you think about anything else, my dumb little fuckin’ baby, yeah?”
When he pulled out of my mouth entirely, releasing my hair, I reflexively gasped in a breath of air, eyes wide and watering. I looked up at him. But, Rafe was still non-plussed by how fucked out I already was. He wasn’t even pausing, barely breaking even a bead of sweat across his gorgeous, obscenely perfect body. No, instead, he knelt down in front of me, one hand making its way immediately to my pussy and finding my clit like two ends of a magnet attracting to each other. He let out a low tutting sound, shaking his head at me as I bucked my hips against his hand before I could stop myself.
“So fucking sloppy, pretty girl. Is this all for me?” he asked, his voice both teasing and harsh. “Barely even done anything to you, baby. You’re just that much of a needy little fuckin’ slut for me, huh?” I let out a high-pitched keening noise and he hummed, wrapping his hand around my throat to make me focus on him even as he slipped two thick digits inside of me. “You want me, baby?” His voice was husky, rasping and his alluring eyes were locked intently on me.
“Yes, daddy,” I whined, voice weak around the whining and moans that I couldn’t help but release as he finger fucked me into oblivion. Even with so little direct stimulation, I felt my legs starting to tremble and my stomach starting to tighten, coiling and ready to barrel quickly towards release. Rafe could tell too based on the way my pussy was practically trying to swallow his fingers whole. “Please.”
“Please what, sweet girl?” he cooed, pretending like he didn’t already know damn well what I wanted.
“Fuck me,” I begged.
“Oh but you sound so pretty when you’re whining, gorgeous,” he groaned. “And I need you to be nice and fuckin’ ready for me. So I need you to cum for me before I fuck you.” My stomach tightened further just on the edge of sweet, sweet release that I’d been missing the past two months while he was missing on fucking house arrest. “Okay, baby?”
“Okay,” I sobbed, hips trying to buck even as he used his massive hand to direct my hips to keep the rhythm he wanted, the other tightening around the outside of my throat, making my eyes roll.
“Good girl,” he huffed. He paused his speech a moment, his fingers moving even faster, making me choke out a sobbing moan, head falling back until he squeezed my throat again in warning, making me lift my head. He then issued a command. A single word. “Cum.”
And who was I to disobey?
The coil in my stomach exploded into a mirage of light behind my eyes as they rolled back. I felt a slightly shrill shriek erupt from my mouth more than I actually heard myself. And all that I could think of beyond the veil and haze of pleasure was the feeling of Rafe’s hands, his skin so close to me. He supported my body as I slumped against him, both of his hands moving to rest low on my hips.
“Good job, gorgeous. You look so fucking pretty falling apart for me,” he encouraged, his voice an appreciative, warm grumble of affection. His hands ghosted up and down my sides. “You ready for me to fuck you, pretty little thing?”
“Yes, daddy,” I said, letting out a long, shaky sigh. I reached out, hands trailing up the planes of his solid chest, leaning my head on him to listen to his steady, calm heartbeat. “Thank you, daddy.”
“Of course, baby,” he said. I could hear the smugness in his voice but I didn’t care. He leaned me back on the couch and moved to get up. I let out a whine of dissatisfaction and grabbed his hand tightly, pulling him back towards me. He looked amused as he raised a brow. “I have to go get a condom, sweet girl.”
“No,” I said stubbornly.
“No?” he asked.
“Have you been fucking bitches on house arrest?” I asked, bottom lip jutting out.
He reached out, pulling my lip down and looking at it in undisguised intrigue. “No,” he admitted.
“Well, then you haven’t worn a condom with me before. So fuck’s sake, Rafe just fuck me,” I demanded.
Rafe’s eyes had a hardened sort of glee to them. His hand moved before I registered it and my head turned as his palm made contact with my cheek. Again, my core clenched around nothing. This time, I bit back the moan that threatened to escape.
“Who?” he warned, sounding all too happy to remind me of my place.
“Fuck me, daddy,” I reiterated, still with an extreme attitude. “Fuck me, don’t pull out cum in me, I don’t care. Just fuck me, daddy.”
“Drop the attitude,” Rafe said, a final warning.
“No,” I spat, knowing exactly where it would get me. You know, right where I wanted.
Instead of slapping me again as I’d first expected, Rafe tilted my head up with just his pointer finger under my chin, his shark-like smile back again. “Do you want to be punished, baby?” he asked, sounding all too eager. I offered no answer. He used his free hand and slapped me, harder this time. I couldn’t bite back the moan this time, or the way that my hand tried to drift between my legs. He caught my wrist easily to stop me. “Answer me or I’m gonna stop. I’ll walk out the fucking door, darlin’.” My bottom lip quivered at the thought, chest heaving. “Do you want a punishment, baby?”
“Y-yes, daddy,” I admitted after another stubborn moment.
“Well why didn’t you say so, darlin’,” he cooed sarcastically.
In a flurry of movement, Rafe sat on the couch and had me over his knee. My bare, soaked cunt made contact with his hard knee and I choked on a moan at that feeling. I barely had time to register the change in position before he landed his first hit on my ass. I yelped at the feeling, reflexively trying to squirm away from the pain, even as I felt a jolt of pleasure at the feeling. Rafe held my hips in place easily with one hand, keeping me firmly on his lap, and used the other to lay a hard slap against my ass, making me yelp again.
“That feel fucking good baby?” he grunted, slapping me again. I didn’t answer, a sharp, hissing inhale coming from my mouth. Another slap. Another whimper. “You should be fucking thanking me for this, darlin’. Disciplining your unruly fucking ass. Making you my good girl.”
“Thank you, daddy. Thank you, thank you. Please,” I whimpered, reflexively trying to squirm once more when his hand made contact with my ass yet again.
“Please, what, sweet girl? Remind you that you’re fucking mine? Oh, I am gonna, darlin’. This is just part of it,” he ground out. I could feel his rock-hard cock pressed against my side and I was torn between wanting it stuffed in my mouth and my pussy. Both thoughts escaped from my mind entirely as he landed another slap against my ass.
“More,” I ground out through clenched teeth, barely able to resist the urge to grind against his thigh and knee with the desperation that I was feeling.
“Needy little slut, you are, huh?” he asked, amused. His hands stopped their cyclical pattern of slapping my ass to rub the abused flesh for a moment. I felt his hand move between my legs more, teasing my entrance with his fingers. Naturally, I opened my legs for him. He chuckled at that. “Can’t wait to be stuffed with me, can you? Already brain dead to everything but me, aren’t you, sweet girl? You’re just my little plaything right now, aren’t you?” I buried my face in the couch and let out a groan, feeling his hand circling my clit again, lazily, not creating enough friction to do anything.
“Daddy, please,” I whined.
“Don’t worry, pretty little thing. I know just what you need to cum again. I decided I need two from you before I fuck this sweet little fucking pussy,” he grunted. With sudden and almost startling accuracy, Rafe slapped me again. This time, his hand made contact not with my ass but with my pussy, the sharp slap making me gasp and jerk from the pain. I let out a half-aborted scream and rocked back into his palm, panting from surprise. He openly laughed. “You didn’t think I forgot how much you liked that, did you, darlin’? Remember that real fucking well? So I’m gonna take care of this pussy just the way I know you need it.” I let out a breathy moan mixed with a cry as he spanked my clit once more. Again and again and again he did it until I felt like I was dripping sweat on my whole body and my pussy was soaked with my juices—the couch too for that matter. “Fuck me, baby, your pussy is so pretty all puffy like this. She’s just crying for me. You want me so bad your poor fucking brain can’t handle it, can it?” I let out a pathetic little whimper, unable to muster much more. “I tell you what, darlin’. You cum from me slapping this pussy and I’ll fuck you til you pass out if that’s what you want. You wanna do that for me?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” I gasped immediately, hardly even grasping the words just knowing that I wanted the pleasure that had been slowly building to finally reach its fucking crescendo.
“Good girl,” he said before unleashing a series of slaps to my pussy in a pattern that I couldn’t have anticipated if I were in his damn brain myself.
This time, as I tumbled over the edge of pleasure, I wailed, jerking against his hand. I collapsed against Rafe’s leg as the aftershock of the second orgasm washed over me. I gasped for air like I’d been drowning and I felt Rafe’s hand tracing up and down my back lazily. As I caught my breath, he placed a final sharp slap to my pussy making me let out a weak yelp of complaint. Without being too gentle, Rafe maneuvered me off of his lap and over the arm of the couch. He let out an appreciative groan and I lifted my head to look back at him. I was startled to see him lifting the belt. My eyes widened as I felt him wrap it around my wrists, quickly binding me.
“You’re not getting away from me, gorgeous. Not when I finally get to fuck my pussy again. You’re nice and ready for me,” he said, sounding almost absent-minded as he spoke to me. He grunted as he slid into me with a single thrust. When he bottomed out we both let out moans—his low and mine high and keening—and I felt my body shake. “Fuck. When you can feel your legs I’m gonna fuck you so hard in doggy you’re gonna not walk the day after. But right now I just gotta finish the job, baby. Gotta turn your fuckin’ brain off forever.”
With that, he started to purposefully piston his hips, holding my bound wrists behind my back for better leverage. I was nearly boneless, shrieking in pleasure as his hot, throbbing cock stretched me open and brushed against each and every nerve ending just right—at least that was how it felt. How he felt. His thrusts were deep and slow and pointed. I sobbed against the feeling, wanting to rut back into him to make him speed up. But, I couldn’t muster the strength. So I just let him fuck into me at his own pace and I felt myself starting to build towards another bout of pleasure—this bound to be even stronger than before if the stars already behind my eyes were anything to go by.
“Daddy, please,” I sobbed, not knowing if I wanted more or less stimulation, more or less pleasure, from him.
Regardless of what I wanted, Rafe didn’t say anything. He grunted out a noise of acknowledgment that I’d spoken then doubled down in his efforts to make me cum again. And when he wrapped his arm around my throat again, tightening quickly and entirely, it was over. This time, as he forced me to a third orgasm, I was actually sobbing, tears running down my face from the fucked up amount of pain and pleasure entwined in being so overstimulated in such a short period of time—especially after so long away from him.
“There’s my good fucking girl,” Rafe said, voice slightly hoarse as he slowed his thrusts to a stop.
He still hadn’t cum himself, his dick fully pulsing inside of me with how hard he was. I dreaded what that meant, even though I also fully anticipated what I knew would come. He gently undid the belt from around my wrists, releasing me, and then eased himself out of me. He flipped me around on the couch and I looked at him with big watery eyes.
“Please no more,” I said, tears slipping down my cheeks. “It’s too much, please.”
“Come on, darlin’,” he cooed, pressing kisses to my cheeks. “Come on, sweet girl. You can give me one more. Been missing my pussy so much. You know I need one more from her.” Another series of kisses, the last one a long and lingering, filthy one to my lips where his tongue entwined with mine and we both pulled back needing air. “Please, baby. One more for me.”
His hand moved down, gently tracing my clit, making me jolt. Already I was so sensitive, so overstimulated. But, the impossibly sweet and imploring look on his face? The hunger he had for me? It was impossible to deny.
“Okay, daddy,” I agreed, sniffling.
He leaned his forehead against mine, grinning. “That’s my girl,” he said softly.
He hitched my leg up over his hip, settling between my legs on the couch. He used his free hand to grip his cock, looking down at us. He gently slapped the head of his dick against my clit once, twice, a third time until I whined and he chuckled, reaching over to press a short kiss to my lips to shut me up. He ran himself up and down my slit over and over until I was shivering and he saw a tiny dribble of new arousal dripping from me. He let out a low moan of his own and then sank into me in one, hitching my leg up again so he could thrust as deep as humanly possible.
“There you are, gorgeous. There’s my beautiful fucking girl,” Rafe praised, pressing a kiss to each cheek, to my lips, and to my forehead as he steadily thrust into me. “So fucking perfect for me. So fucking good for me, baby.”
“You feel so good, daddy,” I said, eyes rolling back and then curling as he pressed down on the slight bulge in my stomach only present because of him. “Thank you, daddy.”
“Anything for you, baby. Fucking anything,” he grunted. He ground slower against me instead of thrusting for a few moments. “You don’t get to keep me from my pussy anymore, baby. I gotta fucking be with you.”
“Wanna be with you, daddy,” I babbled in agreement.
“Good fucking girl,” he huffed, pressing down on the bulge again making me whimper. I felt his dick pulsate again and I tightened around him habitually making his breath hitch. “You gonna cum for me one more time, baby? I’m so fucking close.”
“Yeah, daddy, I’m gonna cum,” I whined. “Please can I cum? Please, please, please?” I begged.
“Fu-fuck yeah,” Rafe stuttered. “Cum with me baby.”
And this time, as I fell across pleasure’s razor edge once more, Rafe fell with me. I felt as he came inside me, hot and deep. My eyes rolled at the feeling, almost addicted to the mere feeling of him being so close and intensely part of me at that moment. I held him without realizing it, nails digging into the skin of his back as I held him against me, ignoring the fact that I was trembling like a leaf.
“So proud of you, my sweet girl. So good for me, gorgeous. Love you so much. So good for me.” Those were the first things I was coherent of hearing again when the whooshing in my ears had faded. They were the sweet praise that Rafe was offering. He went to move—to pull out—but I held him to me still, almost wrapping myself around him like a koala to stop it.
“No,” I denied. “Don’t move yet.”
“Okay, baby,” he agreed. “I won’t pull out. Do you want me to hold you?” I nodded. He carefully moved us. I winced as he adjusted us so that I was sitting up and in his lap because it made him deeper for a moment still but as we settled that faded and I just melted into his chest. “I’m so proud of you, baby. You did so good.” He stroked my skin and hair for a moment. “I gotta get you cleaned up, sweet girl. Get you some water.”
“Not yet,” I denied again, eyes closed as I leaned against him, as much of my skin touching him as possible. “Take care of me in a minute.”
He chuckled. “Oh? You’re gonna let me take care of you?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I answered absent-mindedly. “Fine. You can take care of me, Rafe. I’ll stop being stubborn.” I needed his help. He’d been right about that when he showed up, I was adult enough to admit that. And I knew that he loved me. That he meant it from the best place.
“Really?” he asked, disbelieving. “You’re gonna move in with me? Let me take care of you? Just like that? All I had to do was fuck you like that?”
“Yeah. That’s all you had to do,” I agreed, far too exhausted to explain the complex detail of it in truth. I let out a breathless laugh though, a thought occurring to me when I felt a cool bite of metal and plastic on my leg. “Well, as long as you don’t get arrested for busting out of house arrest.” I cracked open my eyes to give him a smile.
“Shut up, I'll be fine,” he muttered. His hands held me closely, tightly, possessively to him. “You don’t get to take it back. I get to take care of you now. To make sure you’re safe. You’re gonna live with me, sweet girl.”
“Okay, Rafe,” I agreed softly, reaching up to stroke his cheek gently. He leaned into the touch and I smiled. “I will.” I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, laying my forehead against his.
“I love you, baby,” he murmured, so quiet I could barely hear it.
“I love you too,” I replied, just as quiet, just as simple.
He smiled at that, the sight making his eyes go warm and sweet. “Alright, then, gorgeous. Let’s get you cleaned up and get the fuck out of here,” he said. His smile morphed into a cheesy sort of grin—the kind I rarely got to see. “Let’s go home.”
For once, I couldn’t disagree. And I couldn’t help but echo the cheesy smile. “Okay, then, Romeo,” I teased. “Let’s go home.”
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Sun to Me || Leah Williamson
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For the sake of the story, we’re going to pretend that Zach Bryan’s song of the same name came out way earlier than it really did :) no warnings i think, just a little fluff and angst?
Leah lay in bed wide awake at 5:34 am. The sun was just starting to rise and a sliver of light slipped into the room. She could hear Simon, your dog, walking around the room, trying to find himself a comfy spot to go back to bed. You had your leg thrown over hers, wrapped around her knee. Your breath hit her neck steadily, arm around her stomach gripping her shirt just a little.
Leah had had a bad day. It started with missing the first hour of training because her car had a flat tire that she insisted on changing herself when she didn’t really know how. You jumped in and saved the day when you heard her grumble in frustration as you enjoyed your morning coffee on the balcony above her.
Then she hurt her hamstring during training with Arsenal just a day after being announced in the England squad again. She called you sobbing, feeling angry with herself for being reckless and impatient. Again, you swooped in and met her in the training room in record time, pulling your girlfriend into your arms to comfort her.
Hauling her into your car an hour later, you surprised her with sunflowers in the passenger seat for her. She stood at the door and just stared at them, caressing the bright yellow petals with gentle fingers.
“How did you have time to get them? To get me?”
“Funny how fast news travels to me when it concerns you, Lee. You know I’d drop everything for you.”
“Who called?”
“Who didn’t?”
Leah sighed and looked down at you, pushing a couple of loose hairs from your bun out of your sleeping face. The look of pure calm on your face reminded her of the first time she met you. The scrawny kid trying out for the football team back home in Milton Keynes. Eleven year old you had braces and pigtails, an Arsenal jersey 2 sizes too big on, boots that were also too big, and a look of panic that none of the other girls had.
You immediately made it clear that your parents signed you up for an after-school activity that you were not particularly fond of. However, with some tips from your three older brothers and a stern warning from them about keeping up the family name, you made it on the team. Leah was also picked and you two made quick friends.
Your agility and smaller stature gave you the advantage as a striker while Leah’s taller, more athletic build benefitted her as a defender. You two had undeniable chemistry on the field and it showed on game days. Her long balls always found your feet and were almost always converted into goals. She just had to glance up at you to see you already looking at her, waiting for the ball.
By the time you were 17, your feelings for each other could no longer be ignored. For the sake of the team, you both had kept it to yourselves and pined for each other day in and day out but when the reality of Leah getting a position on the Arsenal first team came up, you couldn’t let her leave without a confession.
You pulled her into your room the night before her last game for the home team, shooing your roommate Grace out of the room for the night.
“You ready for tomorrow?” she asked sheepishly, standing awkwardly in the doorway of the hotel room. You sat on your bed and picked at your thumbs, confession right on the tip of your tongue. Leah could sense your nervousness and knew you were hiding something.
“Yeah,” you mumbled, closing your eyes and balling your fists. You took a deep breath, opened your eyes, and screamed, Leah standing in front of you with her face in yours.
“Don’t do that!” you yelled and hit her arm, watching as she flopped back on Grace’s bed laughing.
“Leah?” you call, the tension in the room broken. She chuckles just a little as she remembers the look on your face, sitting up and looking across from you.
“What’s up?” she questions, foot bouncing furiously. You reach over and rest a hand on it, immediately noticing her calm.
“I really like you. I realize that I have for a long time and the idea of you not knowing while you move up in football scared me. I know you probably don’t feel the same way and that this could ruin what we have but I couldn’t go one more game without you knowing how I feel about you.”
You carefully look up and expect anger on her face but are met with a look of love. Before you could say anything her lips were on yours, soft and warm. They molded perfectly in yours, that tingling sensation in both your stomachs. You fall back and she follows, lips never leaving yours.
She pulls away first and smiles, moving off you to lay beside you. You snuggle into her side like you are in the present, hand right over her rapidly beating heart.
“Will you be mine?” she asked after the game the next day on the bus home. You two were tucked away in the back of the bus, hidden from everyone else. Her hand found yours and held it in her lap, thumb gently rubbing the back of your palm as you shared earbuds. Zach Bryan’s raspy voice filled both your ears as you moved to lay your head against her chest.
You fell asleep to his voice and her hand in your hair, gently awoken 2 hours later with Leah’s Arsenal jacket draped around you. She walked you home hand in hand, face falling when she reached your doorstep.
“I leave in the morning with Mum,” she told you quietly, face fixated on the ground. You stood on the steps of your house, bags piled by your feet. A tear falls and hits her sleeves in her hoodie pocket and the dam breaks. She falls to her knees and you catch her, hugging her tight as she wishes you could come with her.
“I’ve got other plans for my future, Lee,” you tell her, tears filling your own eyes. “But all those plans have you in them, I promise.”
You take her face in your hands and her eyes are still watery. You wipe the stray tears away and smile, leaning in to peck her lips.
“I’ve waited a lifetime for you,” you whisper, “now I get the spend it with you.”
Leah glances at the clock and it’s almost when your alarm goes off. Simon jumped onto the bed fifteen minutes earlier and curled up by your feet, now fast asleep like his mum. She slipped out of bed as carefully as she could but Simon woke up when the blanket shifted. You remained in deep sleep, rolling over onto Leah’s much warmer spot on the bed.
She tiptoed out of bed and Simon followed, the little pads of his feet echoed in the living room as she poured his kibble into his bowl. She started the coffee machine and pulled out your favorite to make for breakfast, thankfully it was simple and hard to burn. As the toaster oven heated a couple of frozen waffles, Leah set out to clean the living room just a little to ease your load.
She laid the blanket over the couch and began to clear your notebooks when one of your sticky notes slipped out of it. She randomly stuck it back into your notebook hoping it wasn’t important when your pretty writing and her name caught her eye.
She opened the notebook and gasped, your writing was perfectly cursive and left no wasted space in the margins. You had been researching her ACL injury extensively, working closely in your clinics to find out why female athletes were plagued with this injury.
After Leah left for Arsenal, you pursued a lifelong dream of medicine, specifically as a sports medicine physician. After a career-ending knee injury for your father, he channeled his dream of playing professional football onto his children. Your brothers all became successful athletes, playing for fantastic clubs but you loved treating them when they got hurt. While you were still a great footballer, in the operating room was where your talents shone.
Having performed Leah’s surgery yourself, you drove deep into a rabbit hole of research to find out why this was common in women’s sports, specifically football.
Leah came home one day and felt the world crumble before her. She missed football. She missed being on the pitch. She missed getting teased by the girls for loving you so deeply. All she wanted was to come home and hear you yell at her for not putting her kit bag away or for forgetting to pick up celery like you’d asked. All she wanted was to see you wearing her jersey in the stands next to her family while she raced across the pitch to tackle someone or to watch the girls fawn over you when you brought coffee on Saturdays.
That day, she came home to an empty house. Simon was with you at the office and there was a note on the fridge for her. It told her you had an emergency surgery and to not wait up for you, and that there was dinner in the fridge for her too.
She sat in the living room in silence, the tinnitus in her ears the only constant in the room. Her leg was propped up like it should be and iced all around. The TV remote was too far to reach and her music player too far to set up. Her voices in her head were taking over the buzzing and she was slowly sinking in on herself.
What if she didn’t make it back to the team?
What if they didn’t want her to play for them again?
What if they found someone better than her?
What if they…
“Leah?”
Her head whips up and some tears fly off her cheeks with the speed. You’re standing in front of her in your scrubs and a wagging-tailed Simon by your side. He jumps onto the couch and settles beside her, you joining him seconds later. You caress her cheek and wipe her tears away, pressing your lips to hers.
Words aren’t necessary for her to tell you what was wrong. In her haze, she was beating herself up verbally and you had heard every word come out of her mouth. Your heart broke and felt heavy, she’s been struggling and kept it hidden very well.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she weeps, clutching your shirt tightly. You cradle her face like you did all those years ago on your doorstep. She looks up at you with that same watery look and you peck her lips just the same.
“You can and you will, Leah. I’ll be here every step of the way.”
The lyrics to Zach Bryan’s song that was playing from the music player pulled her out of her thoughts and the smell of burning waffles reminded her of why she was still here.
“Find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of you.”
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taytrashmouth · 5 months
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hello lovely!! would u consider writing a peeta x reader, where ur both in the quarter quell, but reader is separated from peeta from the start and goes through mutt attacks/blood rain/jabberjays by herself and when peeta and the group find her on the beach she is injured and traumatised. hurt/comfort, where he looks after her afterwards and comforts her, washes her in the water and stuff? loooads of gentle comfort and fluff. sorry for my bad english!!
Okay I am absolutely obsessed with this request!!!! Omg can’t wait for you to read this!!! Ahhhh! Okay okay I hope you love it 😊
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Peeta x reader
(Catching fire)
Requests are open so don’t forget to send them in!!!! Prompts under my profile!
:readmore:
When you woke up the morning of the games in Peetas arms you somehow felt safe. It was like you weren’t being sent to die that day. He kissed your head and told you he’d be by your side.
You had dreamt about the last games, how you were separated and the only reason you survived was because he became allies with those horrible kids from 1 & 2
When you eventually found each other, all you did was help Peeta get better, applied the ointment and comforted him. He did all the killing, he saved you.
You only survived the first half by dumb luck, that spear was supposed to hit you…not Rue. If only you hadn’t moved out the way.
The whole lovers idea was Peetas too, only it was true. Deep down you both knew you’d liked each other since kindergarten back in 12
But here you were in the little glass tube that sucked you straight into hell. You felt sick but you really wanted to throw up when you couldn’t see Peeta.
“Peeta!” You screamed as the countdown started. Sweating and getting panicked. You couldn’t do this again, not without him. You had a deal: stay together.
The games had begun. You needed a weapon. You jumped off the platform into the water swimming for the weapons.
Once you found your feet at the cornucopia, you began to hear screams and watched people start to fall. You grabbed a machete and ran for the jungle on one of the thin arms of rock.
“Peeta!” You screamed from the beach. But no answer. That was when a knife flew past your head and missed by an inch.
You couldn’t kill somebody. So you ran.
You shoved past trees and vines running deep into the jungle.
You found a spot hollowed out under a tree. It was hot- and you needed water.
That was when you heard his voice. Peeta.
You screamed for him as you ran towards the sound.
“Help n/n!” He yelled.
“Where are you!?” You frantically turned around. “Peeta?”
That was until his voice became overwhelming. Your ears started to ring. His cried for help, his screams.
You began to cry, realising this was some cruel trick of the capitol. “STOP IT!” You yelled, throat raw. You screamed as loud as you could covering your ears to get it to stop but it didn’t help. It was overwhelming. You tried to run but a forcefield locked you in. You screamed and banged on it but nothing worked.
You grabbed your machete and banged at the field but it just ricocheted.
You sunk to the floor, covering your ears and cried. You were there for what felt like a decade but was probably only an hour.
When his cries suddenly stopped you felt a strange sense of sadness. The screaming had been awful but you were worried about him. What if he was dead.
You began to walk deeper into the jungle, sweating and with tear stained cheeks. You had never been so thirsty before, after screaming so loudly in what felt like 100 degree heat.
As desperate as you were you stumbled across a little pool of water. You smiled dryly and lay on the floor, drinking out of the pool. A sigh escaped your mouth as you quenched your thirst. You splashed your face. And sat up leaning against a nearby tree.
This is where you would sleep. You gathered sticks and placed them in a circle around the area, to ensure that if someone walked by you would hear them.
The music began to play, you looked up at the sky, holding your pin. Praying you wouldn’t see Peetas face. You didn’t. Relief washed over you as the final canon went off.
You barely slept when you felt a warm air hitting your face, as your eyes opened you were greeted with a large mutt, two inches from your face.
You took a shocked, shaky breath in and slowly reached for your machete. It belted a loud noise sending a signal to the rest of his friends.
You closed your eyes as you wedged the sharp end of your blade into the mutt in-front of you.
You pulled the machete out of its body and stood up. Swinging at any that got a little to close. Just as one of the beasts began to jump at you, you decided the best option was to throw the machete and run.
As the mutt jumped and you released your blade, the woman from 6 who had been hiding in the trees tried to save you. And the machete hit her instead. A scream escaped your lips. You had killed someone.
You covered your mouth with your hands, shaky breaths escaping your lips. “No!” You sobbed.
You bent down to try help her, applying pressure to the wound. “I’m sorry.” You cried as she became limp.
You held her to your chest in the hopes it would cause a miracle.
Soon you noticed the mutts had began to run as a white smoked reached the edge of the water, you stood up, knowing something was coming.
One of their claws ripped the back of your calf open as it ran away. “Shit!” You fell into the smoke, immediately screaming and running.
The sun had started to rise, and you were limping with an excruciating pain in your arms and legs with growing boils from the poison.
You screamed as you ran not caring about attracting other tributes. The sun has begun to rise, and you were now an easy target.
You ran through the jungle searching desperately for the beach but it was so overgrown you had no way of knowing.
You stopped in a small clearing. Crying and sitting in the dirt. Desperately wanting to rid yourself of the boils.
After a while of crying A cool liquid hit your face. Rain. You looked up at the sky, hoping the water would help your sores. Opening your mouth to quench your thirst.
It was definitely not water. You gagged. Spitting onto the dirt. Blood.
You sobbed and ran wherever you could and tripped over a log of wood. Tumbling onto the sand of the beach. 
You screamed and cried. Not knowing what to do. You hated the capitol. You hated that you didn’t know where Peeta was. You hated this. You hated that you had to die.
Just then you heard voices. You put a hand over your mouth trying to quiet your whimpers.
Tears running down your face. You couldn’t run anymore. This was it.
You shuffled back, trying to find and escape route but there wasn’t one.
You got on all fours and crawled on the sand, dragging your leg with a gash in it in the sand.
You let out chokes of pain and self pity as they grew closer, you refused to look.
“N/n!” You heard him…peeta. “Oh my god it’s y/n!!!”
You screamed and covered your ears lying in the sand. You would rather die than listen to the jabberjays again. Until someone rolled you onto your back and you were met with Peeta.
He looked so scared for you. You immediately started to cry as he hugged you tightly to his chest. “You weren’t real.” You sobbed into his chest, feeling his hair, his back, anything to make sure he was there.
“I’m real now. I’m here now.” He kissed your forehead and held you again. Until you hissed when he touched your boils.
“Oh shit! I had them too see-“ he showed you the faint scars on his hands.
“I need to get freshwater.” He began to get up but you held onto his hand. “Don’t leave” you whispered.
He stared at you for a moment too long, his eyes laced with concern.
“Finnick! I need water.” Peeta yelled at the group that was a safe distance away.
While you waited, Peeta brushed hair out of your eyes that was covered in blood and sand, just like the rest of you and you squeezed his arm in pain.
“It’s okay.” He kept repeating. Kissing your head despite your state.
When finnick returned Peeta poured water all over your boils and you screamed in pain as they vanished.
“Thank you.” You smiled sadly. Overwhelmed. Peeta often said you were a kind sole, you wouldn’t hurt a fly at home, literally. You sang songs and picked flowers. You weren’t meant for this. Nobody was really….
“Come on, let’s wash you off…if at least half this blood is yours, we’re in serious trouble.” He joked and you attempted to laugh. He picked you up bridal style.
You would argue that you could do it yourself but it just wasn’t true.
He dipped you into the salt water. You hissed in pain, clutching his wetsuit.
“I know it stings. I’m sorry.” He rubbed your arm but kept you underwater.
“It okay. Thank you.” You whispered again, almost scared something bad would happen like it had been. One after the other. Peeta cupped water into his hand and tilted your head back rinsing the blood out of your hair and carefully brushing through it with his fingers.
He washed you off, holding you with one had at all times. Afraid to let you go. He was careful around your cuts and scrapes.
“I killed her.” You let out, staring at nothing.
He stopped his movements and just helped you too his chest.
“Who?” He whispered.
“Six… she tried to save me and-“ you chocked on your tears.
“Hey hey hey, it’s okay…I’m here. You don’t have to talk about it now.” He assured.
You were both wrinkly like the raisins Peeta used in his raisin bread back home by the time you got out the water.
You tried to walk but you could barely stand on your right foot.
“What happened?” Finnick asked before Peeta got the chance.
“Mutts.” You answered simply, trying to see the gash on the back of your calf.
You almost fell but Peeta caught you. He picked you up agin and placed you on the leaves they were using as beds in the sand tonight.
“Now we match.” Peeta smiled at you pulling up the leg of his wetsuit to reveal his prosthetic leg.
You laughed, for the first time in days.
The others were asleep while Peeta took the first watch. You sat in his lap, and wrapped your legs around his torso, like a koala.
Head on his chest listening to his heartbeat as he leaned against a tree looking at the waves.
“I thought I lost you.” He whispered, a tear running down his face. You sat up slightly to wipe it. “Me too.” You assured and squeezed his hand.
“So much for sticking together.” He half laughed.
“Yeah.” You looked at his brown eyes and played with his blonde fringe. He leaned in and Kissed you gently but passionately. Holding your cheek and pulling you in by your back. Carefully avoiding your right leg that was tediously bandaged with leaves and vines.
When you broke apart for air. You smiled softly at each other. Heart still heavy from the past two days.
“I love you n/n.” He spoke with only truth in his tone. It wasn��t just an act and you knew that.
“I love you too…so much.” You teared up thinking about how you were going to have to say goodbye soon.
You resumed your position on his chest and fell asleep to his hand rubbing your back and his whispers of “it’s okay.” And “I love you.”
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cherryredstars · 4 months
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Miguel/Reader request:Recently Miguel is experiencing a lot of pain,stress,his serum was losing effectiveness and his spider were more stronger to the point he transformed into a monster,a man spider:a 15 feet tall creature,full of fur,six clawed arms,hindlegs,spikes,fangs,many eyes and pinchers.One night Miguel was really struggling so y/n decides to “help” (there’s consent from both even if Miguel is a bit scared about it since he’s afraid of hurting her and he transforms while doing it)
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Blood, Penetrative Sex, Internal Vaginal Ripping, Sedation, Mating, Mentions of Breeding, Mentions of Reader Developing a Spider Egg Sac, Spiders… Miguel Turning into a Big Spider and Having Monster Sex with You????
Summary: A not so itsy bitsy spider…
A/N: This was requested all the way in October… I am so sorry. And I am so sorry for the warnings.
Word Count: 1.1K (Unedited)
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It had to be a miscalculation of something. 
Maybe the wrong measurements, a switch in chemicals, perhaps some lab equipment in need of replacing. He refuses, absolutely refuses, to believe it is because his body has begun to form a tolerance of the neon chemical. That instead of sedating him, it’s making him stronger. It has been stressing him the fuck out. Everything has been stressing him out. Rapture, the multiverse, Miles Morales, Peter B. Parker. There is only so much a single man can take.
And you know that. The woman of his dreams and the miracle cure to all his problems. You, you, you. You were so sweet to him, leading him to the bedroom the moment he returned from HQ. Your small hand grasped his as you collapsed on the bed and pulled him on top of you. 
“Let me take care of you, Miggy”, you had whispered into his ear. “Let me help you get rid of all that stress.”
How could he say no to that? How could he ever say no to you?
And it was fine. It was going good. His mind was empty and all he could think about was the way you squirmed under him. How good you were at taking his deep thrusts. How easily you were giving him the sweetest mewls. He was hyper focused on the way you moaned into his neck and your fingers tangled into his hair for dear life. Your skin was soft and warm and pliable under him, denting under his fingers and sure to leave bruises in the morning. Your hot cunt clenched and fluttered around his cock, making him moan out. 
And then he felt it: a sharp prickling running down his spine. It burned red hot, shooting pain along all of his nerve endings. It felt like his skin was splitting open and expanding, like something was trying to crawl out of him. And it was. He let out a roar of pain, his thrusts slowing. Hair started to pierce through his skin, sprouting from his neck and down his back. The hair on his arms, legs, and chest expanded and thickened. His joints and muscles popped and rolled as they began to take a new shape and stretch. His skin began to give away to an ugly black that grew larger and swelled. His mouth has split open as his fangs elongated and pinchers began to sprout from his face. His eyes began to sting, his vision doubling, then tripling, and quadrupling. His eyes looked around frantically, watching as his field of vision dented and widened, now painted in a reddish tint. It started to grow more distant as his body began to lift, his back arching as it hit the ceiling. 
Arms, legs, began to sprout from his ribs, sharp and spiky as they punctured the mattress around you. The hands on your body began to grow claws that punctured your skin, making you cry out as the smell of copper filled the air. His cock was the last to change, swelling and thickening. The sounds of your panicked screams echoed in his heightened senses, the smell of blood growing strong as his abnormal cock split you open from the inside in a way that was impossible. Your walls tore in an effort to accommodate him, and you tried to pry yourself off of him as the pain grew stronger. It only served for his morphed claws to dig deeper into your skin and you sobbed heavily. The sounds of your desperate pleas for help and terrified screams echoed in Miguel’s head. He tried to comfort you, apologize, but his words were only inhuman gargles. 
An instinctive surge coursed through his body, his cock throbbing in a need to mate you. The need to have your stomach swell with spider eggs and create the perfect egg sac. He can’t do that if you’re trying to escape and if you’re in pain. 
He leans his face closer to you, making you sob harder and turn away. It provided the perfect access to your neck. His fangs grazed the skin, before he sunk them in. You let out a muffled scream, your body quickly began to sag as the sedative chemical began to fill your bloodstream and make you sleep. Your eyes began to flutter, your mind trying to fight the drowsiness and failing. In a few seconds, your body completely relaxed onto the bed with your eyes closed and erratic breathing turning soft. 
When the sedation wears off, when he turns back, he will cuddle up to you. When you wake up and look around frantically in fear, he will pretend to wake up and reassure you it was only a dream. A horrible nightmare sprung from your wild imagination. But for now, he ruts into you, his bulbous tip smashing against your cervix and jolting your body upwards on the bed. His movements are frantic and slightly disoriented as he tries to maneuver in his new form. Your walls are impossibly tight around him, glued to his length and almost refusing to let him go. It brought him closer to the edge, and with a few sharp thrusts he began to spill into you. 
It surged out of you, overflowing from the edges of your hole in a creamy light pink as it mixed with your blood. When the blood washed out, it began to run a pure white. It soaked into the sheets and began to form a puddle. Then, Miguel’s body began to shift again. All the new additions receded back into his frame until he collapsed on top of your body. He was breathing heavily, his body readjusting to his human form. He groaned softly when he pulled out of you, and a panic welled in his chest. 
He needs to fix this before you wake up. 
He frantically got off of you, moving your unconscious body higher up on the bed so he can remove the sheets. He scours the closet you keep the linens in, picking out the one most similar to the old sheets. He doesn’t have time to go out and buy a new mattress, instead ripping up the cum and blood stained sheets and stuffing the fabric in the holes as a temporary solution and then covering it up with the new sheets. He cleans you up, amazed when the puncture wounds on your body have disappeared, only leaving the crusted trails of blood and discoloration. He can only hope your vaginal walls have repaired themselves and you only have an uncomfortable stretch between your legs. 
When everything looks normal, he tucks you in and crawls in beside you. He holds you tightly to his chest, breathing in your scent and squeezing his eyes shut.
 It was only a dream, he begins to practice in his head. Just a dream.
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This felt like a fever dream to write. I can not explain to you the way I was laughing and ripping at my hair in bizarre astonishment as I typed this shit out LMAO. 
Like ‘Internal Vaginal Ripping’ and ‘Mentions of Reader Developing a Spider Egg Sac’??? WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK
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