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harryspet · 3 months ago

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lonely little lamb | r. cameron

[warnings] dark!stepbrother!rafe x stepsister!reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader, dd/lg dynamic, mentions of violence/blood, somnophilia, stalker!rafe, DUBCON, emotional/mental manipulation, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: happy OBX4! This was written before the new season :) Dividers by @/ghoulbloggerrr

In which Rafe knows your secret and just how perfect you'd be together.

word count: 7.2k

rafe cameron masterlist

Rafe didn’t catch on immediately. At first, he just thought you were strange, his expectations already tainted by what he'd assumed about you. He’d been prepared for his stepmother’s daughter to be a brat, and on the surface, you fit that mold perfectly. But there was something off about the way you acted around him. You never played innocent, never tried to charm him or win him over like you did with everyone else. You gave him sharp glances at the dinner table when he talked back to Ward and even angrier stares when he disrespected your mother. You never hung around after dinner, always rushing to go back to your room, and “call your friends from back home”. Of course, Rafe listened at your door often and he never heard you making any calls. Having grown up in the house, he felt entitled to know what was happening within its walls.

Your behavior puzzled Rafe to the point of obsession. He woke up every morning to check if your car was still in the driveway and easily memorized your schedule. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, you attended classes in the morning at the local community college. On the other days of the week you sat through your online classes. You never ate too early, always going for a late breakfast that usually consisted of avocado toast, a bowl of fruit, and you always came down to refill your “sippy cup”. That’s what Rafe had dubbed it. It was clear, decorated with a stencil design of a baby lamb and had a flip-up spout for easy drinking. You didn’t go many places without it.

It was the small things that fascinated him. The comfort items you clung to, the simple routines that made your life feel organized and secure. You usually took a bubble bath about thirty minutes after dinner, and when you forgot to lock your door, Rafe would slip into your room, drawn by the intimacy of your private world.

He picked up items around your room, like the frame you kept beside your bed. It held a photo of you and your mom: you in your old high school cheerleading uniform, hair pinned back in pigtails, while your mom smiled widely beside you. Despite her cheerful expression, your eyes in the picture looked wistful and lonely. Rafe couldn’t help but imagine you now, with adult curves and eager eyes, wearing that outfit. The thought stirred something in him, making him hard, and he had to tuck himself away, cursing under his breath. At least if you walked in, he wouldn’t be caught in the act.

The more he learned about you, the harder it was to quiet these thoughts. He had always found you pretty, but now his body and mind were becoming obsessed with you. He made a habit of collecting a pair of your panties from the hamper before leaving. He needed them for later, for the release that he craved, driven mad by the scent of you.

The sound of soft, melodic music flowed into your bedroom from behind the bathroom door. Sometimes it was girly pop songs, other times classical, but more often than not, it had the gentle, soothing quality of nursery music. Your bed was always neatly made, draped in a floral quilt, and you kept the same stuffed animals on top, meticulously placed. A small chesnut brown teddy bear, white bunny, and a tiny stuffed lamb. Each one had their own white ribbon wrapped around its neck, tied into a bow.

One time he caught a glimpse of your nighttime skin care routine. You removed the light makeup you always wore and used about ten different products that Rafe didn’t recognize, nor could he guess their use. The last layer was always a light layer of lip balm and Rafe always leaned a bit closer when your puckered your lips in the mirror. His mind easily wandered to idea of your lips around him.

You wouldn’t look so lonely, little lamb, if you just let me in.

He had his suspicions about the secret, kinky things you were into. There had to be a reason you spent so much time by yourself. He didn’t get the answers he was looking for until one night when you’d left your laptop, unlocked on your desk. He took the opportunity to program his fingerprint into it too, just in case he needed to snoop again.

He combed through your social media, public and private, and started checking your messages daily, keeping track of who you talked to, what you were up to. Your public social media was perfect. A mix of selfies with soft lighting, photos of cute coffee shops, and other things you deemed as your “aesthetic”.

It was your camera roll that finally gave Rafe the answers he had been searching for. One folder, marked with a delicate pink heart, caught his attention immediately. Inside were photos of you, taken in front of your floor-length mirror. Each picture was eerily similar, the same vacant, wide-eyed expression on your face, as though you were lost in some faraway place.

You wore pajamas he’d never seen before, soft and childlike. Sometimes it was pastel-colored footie pajamas, other times it was nightgowns in soft shades of pink, lavender, or baby blue. In a few, you were bundled up in fuzzy socks or slippers with floppy bunny ears. Your hair was always styled with bows, either pink or white. There was a strange innocence in these details, one that clashed with the tension building inside Rafe as he scrolled through the images.

Sometimes you were biting down on your nails, others your thumb rested in your mouth, but most of the time you were gripping one of your stuffed animals tight to your chest.

You looked...adorable. But in a way that made Rafe’s pulse quicken with something darker. The softness, the vulnerability you displayed in those photos, fed his obsession.

Another folder marked with a unicorn emoji held more photos that you’d saved. He recognized some of the characters from children’s TV shows he remembered Wheezie watching. Others were pictures from Disney movies, and Rafe quickly realized you had a special preference for the princesses. You seemed drawn to Cinderalla, Belle, and Snow White. It offered a glimpse into your mind, into your fantasies, how you were drawn to things with an air of purity and sweetness.

Rafe’s heart slowed when a message popped up from someone named Mr. Hayes. Been thinking about you all day, sweetheart. The message said. A moment later, another one came. How was ur bath?

Rafe opened the text thread and began to scroll. Each word that he read made his blood boil. There were too many messages for him to read. You’d sent him photos of yourself, let him call you pet names, and you’d even gone so far as calling him… Daddy. He’d never sent you a photo but that didn’t seem to matter. You were willing to share the details of your life with him.

Rafe’s vision blurred with rage. Daddy. This virtual fantasy, a stranger who you didn’t even know, did not deserve your affection. He decided then you were his, whether you knew it or not.

Rafe decided then to also make it a habit to check your messages.

Several weeks later, you’d finally convinced Mr. Hayes to meet you in person. Rafe couldn’t let that happen. As your stepbrother and your protector, it would be wrong of him to let some stranger hurt you. Besides, he’d become obsessed to the point where now he was dying to know exactly who this man was.

You didnd’t know any better, but he did.

“Hey,” Rafe spoke to you the afternoon before your secret rendevouz, interrupting your fruit cutting, “My Dad just texted. Him and your Mom aren’t going to make it back tonight. There flight keeps getting delayed so they’re going to stay the rest of the weekend.”

“Oh, okay,” You replied simply, returning back to your task again.

“Wheezie’s sleeping at a friends and I’m probably going to a party at Kelce’s,” You gave him a look, as if it was strange to be conversating with him alone without the presence of the rest of their blended family, “...Do you want to come? It’ll be fun.”

You shook your head, “No, thank you. I’ll just stay in.”

Rafe leaned on the marble countertop, staring across the kitchen island at you, “I don’t think I’ve seen you go out one time since you moved in.”

Rafe’s sudden interest in your habits had become more noticeable lately, but you figured it was nothing, just him being Rafe, always lurking in the background, watching everyone, everything. Your mother had warned you that she thought something was off about him and living with him over the past nine months had sealed the fact that you didn’t trust him.

You didn’t trust many people at all, actually, never having had a stable home life. Your mother had always had money, or at least latched on to men who had money, but those men came and went. Even your mother wasn’t someone you could count on. She’d uprooted your life more than once, moving you across states just to be with a man who could give her the lifestyle she believed she deserved.

Mr. Hayes had offered you comfort in this transitional time. You had no one to confide your secret in accept for the communities you found online. It made you anxious to even think about finding a partner one day and having to explain this side of you. Friends on the internet wouldn’t judge you.

But online, the stakes felt lower. The people you spoke with, people like Mr. Hayes, didn’t judge. The risk of being truly seen, and rejected, was something you couldn’t handle. Not yet.

You paused what you were doing, knife hovering over a piece of strawberry, “You really want to spend the night alone. On a Friday night?”

Rafe sauntered around the kitchen island, his eyes fixed on you in a way that made a shiver run down your spine. He knew he was handsome. With his short blonde hair and blue eyes that always had a raging storm behind them. His gold ring and his gold watch. Most important of all, he knew he intimidated you, his size being enough to make you feel smaller than you actually were.

“I have to study,” You spoke curtly, trying to cut off the line of questioning you sensed was coming. You moved to keep cutting up your fruit but you paused again when Rafe reached out to grab a piece from the cutting board. You looked up at him as he popped the piece of strawberry into his mouth.

Your lips parted in shock and Rafe’s lips pulled into a smirk, as if he was thriving on that power, the uncpoken tension in the air. The way he could make your heart race in that mix of fear and something else he knew you’d never admit.

“Oh yeah?” Rafe placed a hand on the counter, “You have all weekend to study. C’mon, have some fun, princess.”

You took in a breath at the sound of the pet name. He hadn’t ever called you that before and for a moment it looked like he was seeing right through you.

“I-” Quickly, you turned your head away, refocusing on the task, as your cheeks heated with embarrassment, “I’m okay, thanks.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to come out,” Rafe continued, his voice smooth, almost coaxing, “You got secret plans or something?”

“No,” You said quickly, “I told you, I’m studying.”

Rafe let out a dry chuckle, no real amusement behind it, “You sure you’re not just hiding?”

“It’s not your business,” You snapped finally, your tone icy, “And I… I don’t have to explain myself to you, Rafe. You don’t even know me.”

“I know you, princess,” You dropped the knife, your heart beating too fast, and you quickly picked up your pieces of fruit and placed them in your bowl. Rafe leaned closer, watching your every move, and the intensity of his gaze was starting to unravel you, “You’re so jumpy. It’s just me. No need to be scared.”

“I’m not scared,” You muttered but your fingers trembled as you grabbed ahold of your bowl of fresh fruit and your lamb cup.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Rafe took another step closer and you backed away from the counter.

“Stop it,” Your frustration flared, unsure of why exactly Rafe was trying to stir you up. Your lips pressed together and you tried to stop your reaction, but with him towevering over you, invading your space, you felt effectively suffocated. It wasn’t until your back was pressed into the stainless steal fridge, your bowl the only thing protecting you from being pushed against Rafe, that you actually flinched.

“Hey,” Rafe lifted on arm, casually bracing his hand on top of the fridge as he looked down at you, “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

You swallowed hard. His voice was deceptively gentle, “Rafe–”

“I’m not trying to scare you, I promise,” Something flickered in his eyes, something you didn’t recognize, and for a moment, you questioned if you’d read this entire situation correctly, “I know how fragile you are. How scary the world can seem. I’m offering …you know …because I’d be there to protect you. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

You blinked up at him. Surprisingly, there wasn’t even a hint of him trying to talk down to you. Rafe Cameon almost sounded caring. “You don’t need to be so on guard all the time,” Rafe continued.

“I just …” You couldn’t stop the way your voice softened, “I like keeping to myself. It’s not that I don’t want to be around people. I just don’t …fit in here.”

Rafe nodded, his expression understanding, and it was the first time you looked at one another as real people, “I get it. You’re not like the other girls around here. You’re smarter, quieter … softer. You can trust me though, yeah? You don’t gotta hide from me.”

For a moment, everything felt like it would be okay. Maybe Rafe had managed to see you and was willing to understand you, unlike anyone else you had met on this island. It all felt real until you focused more on his eyes. Your expression had softened, melted from frustration to wide-eyed curiosity, and that had caused a shift in his eyes. You saw that flicker of darkness that you’d seen before.

“I can look after you, ya’ know?” He said, voice dripping to a lower tone, “Help you. You don’t need to worry too much.”

Before you could respond, his other arm lifted, and you felt his fingers graze your cheek, the touch startlingly intimate.

“What are you doing?”

“C’mon,” Rafe’s jaw tightened, the mask he was wearing beginning to slip, “Don’t be like that, princess.”

“Stop,” You managed to say, “Stay away from me.”

In just a few hours, you’d finally get to meet Mr. Hayes. None of Rafe’s games would matter then. When you went silent, you watched as Rafe’s hand balled into a fist and he turned his body away.

“Suit yourself,” He’d said coldly, his void devoid of any of the warmth that was there before.

You stared down at your bowl of fruit dumbfounded for a moment too long. Princess. How did Rafe know how desperately you wanted someone to call you that?

Rafe stayed at Kelce’s party until eleven He finished his last pabst blue ribbon, said goodbye to only a handful of his friends, before he made his way to his truck. Knowing they would find it strange for him to leave so early, he mad the excuse that he was going to meet up with a girl at the Island Club.

In reality, Rafe was headed twenty minutes away, towards Winward Beach. Mr. Hayes wanted to meet you at midnight. One of the many red flags Rafe assumed you had ignored. You probably thought it was romantic, meeting at a secluded beach in the middle of the night. Like the two of you were fucking Romeo and Juliet.

Stupid, Rafe thought bitterly, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Rafe parked his car in the small parking lot that sat near the boardwalk, turning off all of his lights, and waited for the creep to show up first. Rafe thought for a moment that neither of you might show when midnight started to approach. Maybe you’d wisened up, listened to your gut instinct that told you something wasn’t right. He didn’t believe it for long, you were too trusting. Too soft.

When a tan sedan that Rafe didn’t recognize pulled up in a parking spot close to the walkway, Rafe knew who it was. In the dark and without any streetlights, he only saw a dark figure carrying a backpack make his way towards the beachwalk. He waited until the figure made it halfway before he climbed out of his truck.

The moon was high, casting a white glow over the empty landscape.

Anger simmered beneath Rafe’s skin as he watched the man from a safe distance. He moved with a nervous energy, often glancing over his shoulder as if he was expecting to see someone. Wooden planks creaked softly under his weight but Mr. Hayes didn’t notice, not until he’d made it to the beach, and Rafe appeared behind him.

The man turned his head, eyes wide with confusion. For a moment, this was all a coincidence. Rafe was a nobody, just a stranger taking a walk on the beach, until Rafe’s lips pulled into a smile, “Not what you were expecting?”

“Who the hell are you?”

Mr. Hayes was certainly not what Rafe was expecting. A completely unremarkable middle-aged man with streaks of gray in his thinning brown hair, pale skin, lightly freckled and a slight paunch that rested over the waistband of his dreams. A complete creep. Someone completely undeserving of even being looked at by you.

Anger wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what Rafe was feeling, “You’re Mr. Hayes?”

“What?” Up close, Rafe could see the way the man's eyes started to dart around. He took another step further and the man stumbled back in the thick sand, “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just–”

“You’re just a coward?” Rafe finished, his tone mocking, “I mean, I understand now why you hid your face.”

“I don’t know what you’re–”

Rafe interrupted again, snarling, his hand lashing out to grab the front of the man’s shirt. He yanked him forward and the man’s eyes went wild with panic, “Meeting up with an innocent girl in the middle of the night? Sneaking around like a creep? What’s in that fucking bag?”

“Nothing!” Mr. Hayes struggled. Rafe couldn’t believe how weak the man was. Strong enough to overpower you, maybe, but weak. As soon as the though of this man pinning you down in the sand crossed his mind, Rafe’s eyes went wild, “Nothing, I’m sorry!”

Rafe shoved him hard and the man stumbled backwards into the sand. He towered over the man, his shadow casting long across the beach. Waves crashed loudly in the background but Rafe’s voice boomed over the sound, “I don’t think you are! You probably thought you could just take what you wanted, huh? Fucking answer me!”

The man scrambled backwards, hands digging into the sand, backward hanging awkwardly from his shoulder. Why didn’t he just drop it …if he wasn’t hiding anything, he would let it go, “I wasn’t — I didn’t mean, I didn’t know!”

“You didn’t know what? That she was half your age? That she was too good for you?” Rafe’s lip curled in disgust. He knelt down, his face inches from Mr. Hayes’s as his voice dropped to a whisper, “She’s not yours. She never will be.”

“Okay,” He nodded, holding out a hand as if to put distance between them, “I just wanted to meet her. I know I lied. I’m sorry. I won’t …it won’t happen again. Believe me, it won’t happen again.”

Rafe’s head cocked to the side as he looked down at the trembling man. Without another word, he grabbed for the backpack. The man resisted, of course, a series of “Wait, wait, wait,” leaves his lips. Rafe doesn’t leave space to argue because he pushed his palm into the man’s chest, pinning him down, before he lets his fist connect with the side of the man’s face.

The man gasps, whimpers, as he curls into a ball on the sand, “F-Fuck!” The creep moans. Rafe pulls away the bag, ripping open the zipper, and dumping the contents onto the sand.

A cheap blanket, a cheap bottle of wine, and then Rafe’s eye catches on the condoms and then then the thick, coiled string of rope. Without another thought, Rafe was tackling the man, grabbing a hold of his collar, pulling him up and slamming his head into the ground over and over again. Rafe didn’t stop. He slammed his fist into the man’s face harder and harder. Each blow left a sickening crack echoing in the air.

Crack. Groan of pain. Crack. Whimper, “You though you could hurt her? Touch what’s not yours? Brutalize her?” Rafe snarled, voice low and vicious. When the man finally went unconscious, his body limp, face bloody and unrecognizable, “Fuck you!”

Rafe’s chest heaved as he stared down at his work. Nothing about the blood and broken flesh bothered him. He looked down at his hand which were covered in the man’s blood and only felt satisfied.

He’d protected you. His pulse spiked even more as he heard footsteps on the boardwalk. You’d shown up. Rafe watched you kick off flip flops and run towards them. No matter how dark it was, you were easily visible in the baby pink dress you’d chosen. The contrast between you and the violent seen before you sente a surge of protectiveness through him. He stood from where he knelt in the sand and quickly crossed the distance towards you.

You slowed as you took in the scene before you, “Rafe?” you whispered, “Rafe, what’s … that’s not …oh my god.”

Rafe grabbed you by your arms, turning your shaking body away. It was a gruesome mess, nothing you should have to see, “He’s dead,” You spoke with wide, terrified eyes, “Wh-Why? You killed him.”

“He’s not dead,” Rafe said quickly, “He’s still breathing … I had to stop him.”

You didn’t listen, you turned your head and saw the unnatural position the man laid in, “Rafe, he’s dead!”

Rafe shook you slightly, “He’s not. I promise.”

“What did you do?” You cried, tears beginning to stream down your cheek.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” He tried to assure you, “I had not. He was going to hurt you, Y/N. Look, he brought …he brought all that shit with him. There was rope in his bag, condoms … I did this for you!”

You shook your head, trying to pull away from Rafe’s bloody hands, “You beat him?” Your voice broke under the weight of your fear, “He’s not moving. You can’t …why would you–”

Rafe’s heart twisted in his chest. He wasn’t the one you were supposed to be afraid of, “He deserved it,” Rafe said, voice quiet and serious, “C’mon, we need to get out of here.”

Rafe tried to pull you but you resisted. Easily, he lifted you into his arms, bloody hands staining your skin and now your dress, “We have to call someone!” You shouted at him, hiccuping through your tears, “Rafe, put me down!”

Rafe ignored you, strides long and steady, carrying you back towards the beachwalk. It was better for Mr. Hayes if the police weren’t involved. Undoubtely, a man like that had a record. Rafe was doing him a favor by only leaving him bloody on the beach.

In his arms, you were powerless. Your mind was reeling. Even in his bloody state, you knew the man there was not who Mr. Hayes had described himself as. Rafe could be right about all of this but it still felt wrong.

In Rafe’s truck, you sat curled up against the door, your knees pulled to your chest. A dark and empty road stretched before you, yacht rock played at a low volume in the background, and Rafe’s heavy breathing was louder than any of your thoughts.

Every few minutes, you stole a glance at him. The tension had yet to leave his body, though he was coming down from the adrenaline. His breathing was heavy but deliberate, as if he was attempting to calm himself, “I didn’t want you to see that, you know that, right?” Rafe said suddenly, breaking through the heavy silence, “Like …I know that was fucked up. You believe me, right? About what I said?”

Your throat tightened so much that your words came out strangled, “I don’t know … what to believe.”

“He was going to hurt you. If I hadn’t stepped in — If I-I hadn’t acted proactively, he would’ve hurt you. He would be hurting you right now. You know that, right?” The brutality of Mr. Hayes’s alleged actions began to cloud Rafe’s actions. He said it over and over. You couldn’t help that now you were imagining it. Maybe this was the only way to rationalize the situation. Maybe you had to believe him.

You saw the items in the sand. You saw that he’d lied about his age, about his appearance, and his intentions. He was the monster. That was the better version. Everything was a lot less wrong that way.

“Y/N,” Rafe spoke again, his deep voice rattling your ear drums, “You know that.”

You finally nodded, “Okay,” You agreed.

“Good,” Rafe seemed to let out a breath of relief. Hands still tight on the steering wheel, he tilted his head back, “He wasn’t some innocent guy. I swear that to you. Like I wouldn’t lie about that shit.”

You nodded until your head started to hurt.

“I did this for you,” Rafe said, “I’m so fucking glad you’re safe now. That’s what matters.”

“Thank you,” You whispered as you wiped the wetness from your cheeks. Your eyes caught on the dried blood that wrapped around in a band on your arm, “...Rafe?”

“Yeah, baby?” Rafe voice turned gentler as he glanced over at you.

“Did you …look at my messages?”

Rafe’s demeanor grew casual, like the worst of his anxieties had passed, “I did what I had to do,” He said, like it was a simple explanation. He didn’t seem concerned at his obvious breach of privacy. Didn’t seem to understand that the pit in your stomach was deepening.

“Then you…”

“Then I know,” He finished and you watched a sinister smile pull at his lips, “Aren’t you relieved? I know and I’m not judging you. I’ve been wanting to figure you out since I met you. And now there’s no secrets between us.”

“Rafe…” You began, your voice trembling as you tried to find the right words, “How could you?”

“I had to,” He insisted, “If I hadn’t, where would you be now? What if he had taken you? Killed you? What would that do to your mom?”

Your brows furrowed, trying to process his words, and the vile images that left in your mind, “The stuff on my phone is …private. It’s private for a reason. I don’t understand.”

“I understand more than you think,” He countered, offering you a patronizing tone, “I know what you want, what you need. I’m happy to give you that. And I’d do a hell of better job than that waste of life on the beach.”

You connected the dots the moment those words left his lips. He wanted to be what Mr. Hayes had been to you. A caretaker. Someone to nurture your most innocent idea.

“Rafe … Ward is married to my mom,” The most logical reason that was a crazy idea came to your mind quickly.

“So?” He replied dismissevly.

“You’re my stepbrother,” Not even that registered with him, “I don’t think …it’s not what I want.”

“You don’t know what you want,” Rafe reached across the console, gently but firmly grabbing ahold of your hand. You stared back at him with wide eyes, your fear obvious especially when he took his eyes off the road, “You’re confused. You were willing to trust a man on the internet when the perfect person to take care of you is right here with you. No one else. Me.”

Feeling trapped, your next thought became calming him down. For fear of him crashing the car or never loosening his grip, you forced your expression to soften, “I know you can protect me,” You nodded your head, “And thank you for that …I shouldn’t have done what I did. It was stupid. I’m …I’m glad you care about me like that.”

Rafe squeezed your hand gently, “Yeah?”

“It’s just a lot to take in. I had no idea …I just thought you were usually annoyed with me,” You said and rafe seemed to exhale, his shoulders loosening, “I trust you, it’s just a lot to process right now.”

“I get it,” Rafe let go of your hand, but gave you no time to feel relieved, because next he placed his strong, large hand on your thigh, “I think we’re good for each other. I just have to show you, Y/N.”

Tannyhill was empty except the two of you. Your heart raced as Rafe led you upstairs to your room, hand firmly on the small of your back. When the door to the bedroom softly clicked behind you, closing the two of you in, you felt like throwing up.

You started to imagine Rafe wandering around, looking through all your things, all without your permission. He felt out of place there in your sanctuary but it was clear he’d made himself comfortable a long time a go. He led you over to the edge of your bed, and shakily, you sat down. He kneeled down in front of you, a position quite to vulnerable and intimate for you.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” He asked, voice deep in concerning. Lifting one of your heels from the ground, he looked closely at your legs, as if checking for an injury.

You shook your head, know the most your body had been through tonight had been at his hands, “I’m okay,” You spoke, your voice small.

Rafe looked up at you, “It’s okay if you’re not, yeah?” Rafe said, voice softening as his hand slid further up your leg. When you pulled your leg back, his grip remained firm, possessive, “Everyone’s gone. I’m asking you to lean on me, princess.”

With no hint of asking for permission, you stared back at your stepbrother. You couldn’t help but feel as if the timing of tonight had worked out eerily in his favor. Everyone in your family was gone for the night and there was no Mr. Hayes to text about your feelings.

“I’m going to run the bath for you,” Rafe decided, lips parted as if he was deep in thought, “Yeah, stay right here.”

“I’m fine, I can do it–” You began as Rafe made his way towards your bathroom.

He held out a finger and you stopped your movements quickly, frozen by the intensity in his gaze, “Stay.”

He didn’t have to raise his voice for you to feel the threat in his tone. Somehow, this version of him was scarier than the one that relentlessly struck a man until he was unrecognizable.

The sound of running water filled the room. Closing your eyes, controlling your breathing, the sound brought you to your routine. That sound of running water was always soothing to you. It was usually how your mind was able to slip into that comforting place on the other side of your mind. Things were lighter there, a place where you had no cares at all, and you enjoyed the things that you’d normally be embarrassed by. You pressed your feet into your fuzzy white carpet, your favorite place to listen to music and do one of your coloring books. You were almost there, the water having tricked you into falling deeper, until you caught a glimpse of Rafe standing behind the door, washing blood away in the sink.

You tightened your eyes even more, shaking your head. This was certainly not the time to let down your guard.

He appeared moments later, drying his hands with one of your pink washcloths, “Come on, let’s get you ready,” He said, his head tilted towards the bathroom, his voice deceptively warm.

Your feet betrayed you and you hesitantly crossed the room. Another door between you and your life before you knew Rafe felt this way. When it closed shut, you realized you’d sealed your fate. How could it be a mistake when this was the place in life where you felt safest? To accept something was wrong meant accepting that you had nowhere left to feel warm, innocent, or child-like.

Fingers caressed your skin, lifting the hem of your dress, gently raising your arms, until you were standing in your underwear. You hadn’t realized you’d started crying again and it didn’t register how badly your lips were trembling until Rafe’s thumb caressed your bottom lip, “You’re okay,” He assured you, “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You’d wanted this desperately, for someone to see you and not want to run away. You wanted someone to take care of you, someone devoted to nurturing you. Your eyes locked on Rafe’s and you felt his palm against your bottom, fingers traveling beneath the fabric of your panties. You kept your head tilted up as he leaned down, pressing lips that were softer than could’ve ever imagined, against your neck.

You melted against him.

Vanilla and strawberry swirled in the air, strong but gentle hands caressed you, and your tears started to feel more like a release than a burden. He kissed the spot on your throat that had gone sore from all tears.

“I’m gonna take care of you,” He whispered and you felt it everywhere.

After removing your bra and panties, he helped you into the bath. Quickly, the blood and tears seemed to leave your skin, as if you’d imagined them. He touched you in a way that more natural, human, than expected. With deliberate care, he moved his hands over you, an act that felt practiced.

Everything dissolved there in the warm bath, the heaviness of the entire night. Bubbles clung to your skin, and your fingers moved lazily over the surface of the water. Rafe washing you, moving a soapy washcloth over your skin, should’ve felt strange but were left in that hazy place where things were simple.

“This is how things are going to be,” You heard him say, “We’ll make it work, okay? You get to be yourself and I’m the one who takes care of you now. I’m your Daddy.”

You’d never said that word out loud. Daddy. It was a faraway concept, a dream …just like the cloud you were floating in right now. You hugged yourself, mind wandering to that soft bed with all of your plushies.

“Say it, princess,” you turned your head to him, mouth parted, eyes curious.

“Say what?” You asked in a whisper, an innocent haze in your eyes.

He smiled. You had done something right. You gave him a soft smile too. He leaned closer, “Say ‘Daddy’,” He commanded softly, “Please, princess.”

Part of you hesitated, knowing you were giving away something precious. The other part wanted to please him, after all, he’d brought you this sense of peace. And maybe the sooner you made him happy, the sooner he’d tuck you into your warm bed, and let this long day finally end.

“Daddy,” You tested out the word on your tongue and though it sounded fragile, his eyes seemed to light up, “...since you said please.”

Nothing could smoulder that spark of satisfaction in his eyes. The look made your heart flutter, a sharp contrast from before when it felt like exploding.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” Your cheeks warmed and you turned your face to hide from him. You couldn’t take it when he looked at you like that. That look made it feel like everything was okay.

“I made a mistake,” Your voice came out in a whine. Rafe ran the warm cloth across your back, a reminder of that peaceful bubble he’d created around you.

He shushed you, “You didn’t,” He assured you, “You’re a good person, a good girl. I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you.”

His words made you sink deeper. The soft strokes of the warm washcloth, the vanilla-scent against your skin, and the pressure against your most sensitive areas. You felt the tension in your body melt away further.

Slowly, gripping your knees to your chest, you turned your face back towards him, “You can’t tell anybody, Rafe,” You whispered.

“Never,” He said, leaning closer, “Pinky swear?”

Rafe reached his other hand toward you, his pinky finger extended in front of you, moving like he was carefully dismantling some fragile, like a bomb. You stared for a brief movement, surprised and warmed by the gesture. You had no idea Rafe was capable of being so gentle. You unwrapped yourself a little bit, bring your closest pinky towards his hand. Your smaller finger wrapped around his and you were tethered together.

“There, I promise I won’t tell anyone, princess,” He looked at you deeply, “Okay?”

Hesitantly, you nodded, your hand falling gently back into the water, “Let’s get you out of here before you wrinkle up,” He decided and you watched him cross the room to grab your towel hanging from the back of the bathroom door. He walked back with a quiet confidence and his grip was completely sure, deliberate, as he helped you from the tub, “I’ve got ya’.”

He’d wrapped one arm underneath your shoulders and the other beneath your knees, lifting you gently. You imagined pressing yourself into him but a towel soon separated you. You shivered, and instinctually, you wanted to dry yourself but Rafe took responsibility of that as well. He was so close, so protective. It was awkward at first, being able to take care of that mundane task but not having to. You leaned into it, letting your body be soothed by the ritual.

You kept sinking.

“Arms up,” He’d said after bringing you back to your bedroom. He chose an oversized purple t-shirt, designed with small pictures of cartoon pandas. For your underwear, he chose a light blue pair decorated with rainbows. Your eyelids grew heavy and after your first yawn, Rafe lifted you onto the side of your bed, “There you go. All set.”

You crawled into your cocoon further, settling underneat your quilt. You watched Rafe as you settled there, as he moved across the room. Your sleepy eyes widened for a moment, realizing his shirt was gone and that he was fiddling with the zipper of his pants.

It was a threshold you’d never expected to reach, with Rafe or anyone else. The lights flicked off and the bed dipped beside you, your nerves sparked. You grabbed ahold of your lamb stuffed animal, letting that bring you a familiar comfort. Rafe nestled closer to you, his body at ease, relaxed as he wrapped an arm around you.

You did your best to do the same, trying to lean into that same vulnerability you felt when he was bathing you. Warm skin against yours, strong hands on your waist, warm breath against your ear, it was overwhelming, “I-Is this okay?” You asked, breaking the silence.

Looking for reassurance, you turned your head until your noses were almost pressed together.

“Yeah,” Rafe spoke low and smooth, “You okay?”

You nodded quickly, nervously, “I’m okay.”

Rafe pressed a kiss to your forehead and you took a deep breath, letting the feeling sooth your anxiety, “I’ve got you,” Rafe’s fingers ran down your arm then to your waist. He held you there, feeling your flesh there, squeezing, “Daddy’s got you, baby.”

He touched you in new ways, gripped you hard in some places and softer in others. The kiss on your forehead turned into a kiss on your nose and then he placed soft lips against your cheek, “Relax,” He whispered in your ear, “I know you’re sleepy. I’ll do all the work.”

In your state of mind, his words felt like a riddle. What did he mean? You knew you liked his touch and that you wanted to sleep. Rafe knew more than you, clearly, maybe that’s what makes him a good Daddy. You should trust him.

You closed your eyes as you let him press his face into your neck. He kissed you there, finding the most sensitive spot on your skin, and it made your lips part in a soft moan, “Call me Daddy,” He spoke against your skin, “Please, baby? Just say it and I’ll make you feel good.”

“Daddy,” You whispered back hesitantly and Rafe groaned, “D-Daddy.”

“Fuck,” Rafe cursed, grabbing a handful of your bottom, “That’s exactly what I want from you.”

You felt hardness pressing against your upper thigh and you gripped your lamb tighter. You leaned into sleep, letting Rafe move your body as he pleased, only moving your lips to whisper, “Daddy” in Rafe’s ear. He seemed please and you felt a warmness in your center that you wanted more of.

Soon he was on top of you, your legs spread as he sat in between them. He rubbed you there. His rhythm was perfect, his accuracy impeccable, so much that you didn’t have to even move your hips to get the friction you needed. You panted and when you reached your peak, Rafe swallowed your moans, putting his mouth on your lips.

It didn’t fully register to you when Rafe pushed your underwear aside and started to push inside of you. He was so gentle and you were so tired. He pulled your arms to the side, pressing his front against you, but you kept one hand wrapped around the arm of your stuffed animal, “Daddy,” You mumbled, “Daddy”

You winced when you felt all of him, and instinctively, you pushed at his heavy arms, “You’re okay,” He said, and his voice was louder to you than his heavy breathing or the sound of his skin hitting against yours, “You’re doing so good. Daddy’s almost done. You’re gonna make me cum so fast, Y/N. Shit.”

The satisfaction and pride in his words brought almost enough warmth to mask the pain of being stretched by him. You slowly grew used to the feeling but the feeling was so intense and you had so little energy to withstand it, to take all of him.

“Daddy,” You mumbled, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy…”

His thrust slowed but his weight kept you pinned there. He grabbed ahold of your chin and you blinked up at him with sleepy eyes. His mouth was parted, his eyes holding a darkness that you thought had gone away, “Jesus, baby.”

As he shifted to his side, all you could muster was to turn away, pulling your lamb close to your chest and allowing your eyes to flutter shut. Rafe nestled against you once more, his hands gripping your hips until your bottom was pressed firmly against him. You felt the warmth of his lips against your hair, and then his sleepy voice whispered, “Sweet dreams, princess.”

Reblog and comment if you enjoyed, would love to know your thoughts!!

#dark fic #rafe cameron #little space #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #black!reader #rafe cameron x black!reader

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gghostwriter · 4 months ago

Text

Whispered Truths

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your weekly reading club with boyfriend, Spencer Reid, has never been as sweet and life-changing as this night Trope: Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 0.8k a/n: This is actually a request from @bloodredrubyrose and I really liked how this came out. I also used my favorite piece of fiction here as a prop so I hope you like it! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

Couples, no matter how new or old, tend to create personalized dates as a way to strengthen the relationship. Some go on hikes together, some go on travels, while some stay in the comfort of their homes—under a blanket with a chosen book on hand.

You and Spencer definitely fall under the latter category. It was quite obvious from the first meeting that literature would be one of the strongest bonding agents between you and him. After all, it was how you were brought together—crashing into one another at the library with books and miscellaneous items scattered on the tiled floor. A few shy glances and bewitching dates later, you found yourself spending your Saturday nights in the presence of your boyfriend of six months, hosting an exclusive reading club with just two members, you and him.

“I never thought of it that way,” your left hand paving an aimless path through Spencer’s curly hair while the other held the book up high.

The pitter patters of the rain outside softly echoed through the walls. You were propped up on the loveseat sofa, his head resting on your lap as he looked upwards in question in regards to your statement.

“Never thought of which?” His voice low and soft, striking a resemblance to how he gazed at you oh so lovingly. As if you were the most riveting piece if art he had ever laid his eyes upon.

“How water played a big symbol throughout the whole book. It was really focused on during the first chapters but I—I just never quite connected the dots,” you clarified, bring the book to a close.

It was your choice for the week, East of Eden by John Steinbeck—a modern classic and had been your favorite work of literature since high school. Spencer had lent his copy to you last week and you vice versa—both turning brown from age, pages about to fall apart from its binding, annotations scribbled on the margins and any lengthy self reflections written on various notebook pages sandwiched in between.

“Your explanation on the empty pages at the end—how water is capable of bringing both life and death. Water being essential for the crops but at the same time, drowned victims. It’s such a poignant note that I think I just fell more in love with Steinbeck’s writing,” you added. “It also made me realize how water in his novel represents the dual capacity of the human soul for good and evil. How we are all filled with conundrums and contradictions and what makes us different from the other species on Earth is our ability to choose whether we are good or evil—” Spencer had sat up and leaned in, interrupting your musings. “—what?” You breathed out as his lips hovered on yours.

The once cozy atmosphere quickly charged with tension and desire that seemed to ooze out of Spencer. There was little space in between and you had no doubt that from the outside looking in, it looked like he was kissing you but he was not, rather a sliver of air was still given space to pass through. So close but so far.

You studied his features up close. How his long lashes fluttered like butterfly wings beating against the wind as his molten, darkened, hazel eyes flickered between your lips and eyes. How his nose lightly caressed yours in an endless Eskimo kiss. How his cheeks stained into a lighter shade of red. And how his pink tongue peeked out to wet his pillowy lips.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered as if it was some kind of national secret that he now felt right to expose.

Your breath caught in your throat. This was the first time he had said it. His love for you had been conveyed with every touch, with every action, and with every silence but this was the first time he had put it into words.

His lips caressed yours—the pressure almost non-existent. A ghost of a kiss to gauge your reaction and consent.

“I love you,” he repeated a little louder this time, eyes locking into the very depths of your soul. “You and your mind have enchanted me since the beginning—so beautiful, so captivating.”

The butterflies set free in your stomach caused you to viscerally shiver in reaction.

“I love you too, Spencer.”

A smile graced his face and it was bright and as blinding as the sun, like it had finally decided to stop hiding behind the clouds and show itself in all of its glory.

He leaned in once more. The pressure from his lips now heavier and headier, trying to stamp his everlasting mark on you and in between all these kisses were whispers of his utter devotion and adoration until there was no more space—until you both became one on his loveseat sofa.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid request

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fatkish · 8 months ago

Note

Hiii Could you do a fluff head cannon with all the mha pro heroes (aizawa,present mic,all might,mirko, And midnight) like little moments with child reader

Pro Heroes x Child Reader:

(Platonic) Fluff HC’s

Aizawa:

Snuggles with the reader all the time

Probably bought a matching sleeping bag for the reader

Has secretly put up their drawings in his office at school

Lets the reader sleep with him when they can’t sleep or have a nightmare

Will go through the house and make sure no villains or monsters are hiding before bedtime

Reads story books at bedtime or tells the reader stories about uncle Mic or his students

Would definitely have pajama parties

Would help the reader build blanket and pillow forts in the living room and sleeps in them

Helps the reader as best he can with their homework

Hizashi:

Most definitely has dance parties or plays music videos games

Bought the reader one of the children’s karaoke machines and cheers the reader on now matter how bad their singing is

Loves playing hide and seek with the reader

If the kid likes to dress up whenever they play then he’ll definitely help and tries to make the reader look like a mini him

Definitely bought the reader instruments like a toy keyboard or drums to let them explore music and see if they like it

Makes up the weirdest and silly stories for the reader’s bedtime

Helps the reader with their homework by making a game of it or making it entertaining

Has pictures and drawings from the reader all over his desk and office

All might:

Dad jokes 100%. Will tell all kinds of them no matter how lame or stupid they are

Plays pretend and has the reader be the hero who defeats the evil tickle monster

Tries to cook food with the reader like baking cookies or making their own homemade pizza. Has had to try to keep the reader from eating all the ingredients when they were younger

Carries the reader on his shoulders and will toss them in the air

Definitely tries to introduce foreign foods to the reader such as classic American dishes like an American hotdog or apple pie

Tells the reader stories of his hero days when he was younger or his experiences overseas as bedtime stories

Helps the reader understand their homework and shows them how to do it before letting them try if they’re struggling

Let’s the reader wear his shirts since they’re so big on reader and he thinks it’s cute

Proudly shows pictures and the reader’s drawings to his coworkers

Mirko:

Definitely cheers on the reader whenever they play Heroes and villains

Will definitely give actual advice on how to fight a villain

Has morning yoga sessions with the reader to help them increase their flexibility

Would most likely play wrestle with the child

Reader has a bunch or Mirko merch and has all the limited edition items thanks to Mirko

Recounts stories of the villains she fought that day as bedtime stories or makes some up

Tries to help the reader with their homework and will hire a tutor or ask another pro to help them if possible

Definitely has the reader’s drawings in her office and proudly displays them for all to see

Probably has a trampoline and teaches the reader how to do cool jumps

Midnight:

Loves going shopping for clothes with reader

Will definitely play heroes and villains with the child and be the villain

Would also pretend to be a civilian in need of saving

Helps reader design their ‘hero’ costume

If the child can’t sleep then she’ll use her quirk to help them sleep

Will read story books to the reader and tuck them in at bedtime

Helps the reader with their homework by referencing the problems to things they already know or that they like, for example: with math, Midnight will use visual references like pieces of candy to help the reader understand addition and subtraction

Has bought so many stuffed animals for the reader, their room is basically filled with them

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petew21-blog · 5 months ago

Text

Friends with benefits

Two long time friends Trent and Brett. A classic story. Met in kindergarten and have been friends since. Grew up together. Spent their holidays together. Graduated together. But then stopped seeing each other as often. Why? Because adult life ain't easy. Brett had to find a job while Trent got into college, graduated and on top of that became a fitness influencer. Brett started his Twitch account and became a gamer, which he had time for, cause how he was constantly doing a different job, depending on what he could find. But both of them always took some time off for a beer with their buddy.

This is Trent

Although he doesn't appear like that, he is a 24 year old male with young looks

On the other hand Brett is also young, but his looks are a bit more mature. Maybe it's because of all the hair

This is Brett

So hairy.

Normal guys, right? Well something was about to change very soon

Friday, August 2nd, 5 PM

Brett:"Hey, dude. Wanna grab a beer later tonight?"

Trent:"Yeah, sure. I am down. Is 8:30 ok? I gotta finish a video"

Brett:"Oh yeah, totally fine. See you then"

Friday, August 2nd, sports bar, 8:33 PM

At the bar Brett waits patiently, only his leg is slightly shaking. Trent comes in through the door. It's kinda funny, cause Trent used to be really insecure and not confident. Now he looks basically like a god. But still, he has this cute shy looking guy whose face doesnt match his body and the fact that he's 24. Brett was kinds jealous, most of the people that didn't know him always thought he was older because of his looks. Trent had the opposite problem. Always had to show ID whenever he went. Yet Brett was probably more jealous about his life in general. He finished school, took great care of his body, which now could help him hook up with anyone he would set his mind to.

Brett:"Hey, maaaan. How are you doing?"

Trent:"Heyyy. Yeah good. You know, single influencer life, haha"

Brett:"The ladies must be driving you crazy"

Trent:"If only it were just ladies. Haha. You should see the messages some of these gay dudes keep sending me. It's insane"

Brett:"You tell me. They always send random shits to my chats while playing. But it's mostly dumb kids."

Trent:"I think we should find you a date for tonight"

Brett:"Nahhh, fuck it. I'm not in the mood. I just wanna chat with my bro."

After a few beers

Brett:"Shut up, you did not!"

Trent:"I swear. She came on to me without a word."

Brett:"So what did you do?"

Trent:"You think I put up a fight? Haha"

Brett:"Maaaan. I want this stuff to happen to me to. That's so hot"

Trent:"Come with me to the gym then, I bet more chicks woukd be into you if you would gain some muscles"

Brett:"You calling me fat?"

Trent:"No, just saying that all that body hair would be good to match with a good body. You're just a walking gorilla right now"

Brett:"Oh shut up twink! Haha"

They finished their drinks, said their goodbyes and went home.

Brett felt amazing. He really needed to get a beer with his best friend. He came back home, sat behind his computer and searched Dark web. He already knew what he was looking for. He wanted to mess with Trent. Just a another one of his pranks. All he needed was Trent's personal item. He found the body swapping website. He read the rules and conditions and filled out his and Trents name. The only next step he had to follow was to go to sleep. And so he did. Only taking off his shirt in the process and collapsing on the bed. Not even brushing his teeth

Brett woke up feeling better than ever. He was used to have a hangover by now, but today he felt great. He opened his eyes and immediately noticed the different sheets. He looked around. This is Trent's place.

Brett:"Trent?" he said, but he heard Trent's voice.

He turned around to get up

His body. He has a different body

Brett:"Holy shit. It worked" he said amused. He looked down at his now soft chest. He got up

Brett:"Oh wow. getting up is so different when you have these hard muscles"

He went to the nearest mirror. And there he was. Trent in his glory. Brett was so happy right now. His prank worked. He is now inside of his best friends body. And the pranks probably won't stop there. Now he can mess with him all he wants. But not now.

He looked from top to bottom how tall and slim his body was. "Almost no hair anywhere. Lucky guy"

He took Trent's phone and snapped a photo to send it to Trent in his body. He knew it would take a while for Trent to wake up so he proceeded in his exploration.

He felt his curly hair. "How come you don't even have widow's peak? So unfair" He traced his jawline, now with tiny baby hair that Brett wouldn't even call a beard. But his sight was now caught by those nice Calvin Klein's. He looked around as if there was someone in the room with him who would judge him. He pulled on the waistband

Brett:"Just as I thought. Also shaved" he grabbed his new dick, that was getting harder and harder by the second, when suddenly his phone received a notification. he let go of his dick

It was Trent. Brett:"Haha, this is gonna be good"

There was a photo of Brett's body, observing his hairy armpits in shock

Trent in Brett's body:"Hey. Got any idea why I am a gorilla now? And why that gorilla looks exactly like you?"

Brett:"Surpriseee. And fuck you"

Trent:"So this is your doing?"

Brett:"Yeah, I kinda wanted to prank you somehow for all the pranks and the gorilla jokes. Joke's on you ape man"

Trent:"Fuck you. So this is reversible?"

Brett:"Sure, man. No worries. We'll meet tonight at the bar again and chat how our day went?"

Trent:"I don't know how to feel about this, bro"

Brett:"Just try enjoying being another person"

Trent:"Do you realise there are some no go things including intimate stuff and hygiene?"

Brett:"Sure I do. I'm already holding your dick in YOUR hands right now"

Trent:"Dude! Not cool. I meant more stuff like shitting etc. But yeah, this too."

Brett:"I gotta say Trent. You have a very nice dick"

Trent:"I'll comment on your size when I find it in the bushes I guess. Have you never heard of trimming?"

Brett:"Keeping it natural, baby face"

Trent:"Fine, let's see each other tonight at 8, ok?"

Brett:"Enjoyyy" Hangs up

Trent:"Jesus, this guy. I hope he doesn't fuck up something or someone"

Starts observing himself. "I must say, It feels good to look like a mature man and not a teenager. All of this hair. And the moustache is hot too. I could never grow this thing"

Trent looked down and had a mischievous thought. "Well, Brett. Since you have already held my dick, I think it's time to step it up. Gonna see if you can last longer than I do" Trent said with a smile and whipped out his new hard hairy dick

Saturday August the 3rd, bar, 8:04 PM

Brett is sitting amused in the bar, eating chips on the table and drinking beer. Winking at the ladies looking at his direction.

A waitress came by his table:"Want another?"

Brett noticed his old incoming body:"Sure, and another one for my friend who just arrived. Thank you, sweetheart" he said as his flirtatious look almost seduced the local waitress

Trent:"You need to stop!"

Brett:"What? I was just flirting"

Trent:"Not that. Stop eating those chips. God knows how many calories you ate already"

Brett:"So you don't mind that I was flirting with her?"

Trent:"Nah, I don't care. I jerked off your dick for like the fifth time half an hour ago"

Brett:"What? You beast. I would have never expected that. Cool. You have a really good dick to jerk off too. I didn't expect to shoot so far tho. Made a bit of a mess"

A couple off bikers started eavesdropping to their conversation and turning heads

Trent:"You might want to quiet down, or we're gonna get beaten up for mistakenly speaking like gay guys"

Brett:"But you gotta admit that my body is not so bad, right? All the hair and everything. You like it"

Trent:"It's not bad, but I prefer being in my own body. I'm used to it."

Brett:"Ok, I'll pretend I didn't hear the part before about masturbation. But what do you say? We didn't even have enough time to see what the life is like in our new bodies. It's only been a day"

Trent:"And your point is?"

Brett:"Let's stay swapped for a while. We can swap back anytime we want. It's reversible. We know almost everything about each other, so pretending to be the other one will be easy. You'll just teach me your workout routine, I'll show you... what games to play and how to set up a livestream and we'll figure it out"

Trent:"Livestream? That's all you got?"

Brett:"Come on, man. We got nothing to loose"

Trent:"I don't know man. It's gonna be complicated. I agreed to leave for a few weeks to work at one of our gym branches in another city. And now you'll be the one that has to go. I think now is not the best time"

Brett:"So? I can update you about everything. We can chat all the time. We can call. And I got nothing to do. Actually, you might need to find some job for those few weeks. And there's never gonna be a better time then now. We're single, ready to mingle. So let's enjoy that month"

Trent:"You wanna stay swapped the whole tíme I'm gone?"

Brett:"Yeah, I'll be a fitness instructor/viral star and you'll ne enjoying my chill life"

Trent:"Chill life. Man, you won't even recognise your life when we'll swap back"

Brett:"So you agree?"

Trent:"Yeah, what the hell. I'll be a gorilla for a month"

Brett:"Deal. Now, let's see if you'll have a better game in finding a hookup then me"

Sunday, August 4th

Brett sends a text to Trent:"Why do I feel like my body still hasn't gone through puberty?"

Trent:"Piss off. Yours looks like it went trough yours several times."

Brett:"Nah, gotta be honest. I'm really enjoying this lean figure and hairless body"

Trent:"And my dick..."

Brett:"Haha, yeah and your dick. How are you doing in my body?"

Trent:"Feels pretty weird to be so hairy, but gotta admit it's a nice change. Like... feeling so manly"

Brett:"Yeah, but tip for that hairy stomach. Don't cum on it. It's really irritating to get cum from it"

Trent:"Never had the issue in my body, so yeah. Thanks for the tip"

Brett:"No problem. I had to try it out in yours haha"

Trent:"Doesn't this feel kinda gay to you? All the dick and jerk off talk. Appreciating each other's bodies"

Brett:"Nah. We're exploring, man. Who knows if we ever get that chance. Gotta enjoy it"

Wednesday August 7th

Trent:"How are you settling in?"

Brett:"Yeah. Pretty great. I just jerked off to some porn"

Trent:"Ew. I mean the appartement"

Brett:"Whooops. Sorry. Right. Yeah it's nice. Very clean. Very modern"

Trent:"It's yours only for a month so don't destroy anything there"

Brett:"It's kinda poetic right. New appartement, new body, new job"

Trent:"I don't see anything poetic about me playing games in front of a camera"

Brett;"Dude you have to. My fans are gonna wonder what happened to me"

Trent:"Fine. I'll log in tonight. By the way. Dude your feet smell so much when you work out."

Brett:"Work out? You took my body to the gym?

Trent:"Yeah. I had to show off these bushes somewhere, right?"

Brett:"Ahhh thanks man. Looking good"

Trent:"And I think oke girl was checking you... me out"

Brett:"If you can score than go for it. I'm actually late for a date. Or... how do you call it if you're just gonna have dinner and fuck?"

Trent:"Standard hook up man. Please be safe. Wear a condom. And watch our foe those carbs, man."

Brett:"Sure thing, bye"

Monday, August 12 th

Brett:"Dude do you like ever have to shave your face?"

Trent:"Sure I do. I just don't have to do it so often as you. Btw can I please shave off this moustache?"

Brett:"Absolutely not. You'll learn to love it and appreciate it. Just like I will your baby face"

Saturday, August 17th

Brett:"I have to admit I really love showing off your muscles man. I have been doing it constantly at every occassion. So many people turn their heads to take a peak"

Trent:"Yeah I get it. It helps with the confidence a bit"

Brett:"A bit? I feel like I can beat any fucker whk crosses me"

Trent:"Brett, please don't beat anyone in my body"

Brett:"Just kidding, man. How have you been"

Trent:"Well I tried being consistent with the gym. I think your body is doing pretty well"

Brett:"Daaaamn bro. I look good. You really do take care of my body really well"

Trent:"I was actually thinking I could offer this for money. Swapping with people, doing their routines and then swap back. But that's a talk for another time after we swap back"

Brett:"Yeha, sure. Cool idea. Anyway... how was the streaming?"

Trent:"I don't know, man. I think they are desperste for me to say your catchphrases, but they are so cringe."

Brett:"Nah, you have to do that. That's how you get into Tiktoks and become viral"

Trent:"Honestly. I can't wait to get back to my body and to my life back. So we will swap on September 2nd?

Brett:"Yeah. I suppose. Depends how the work will be etc. Anyway I gotta go man. Talk soon"

Trent to himself:"It feels like he's avoiding me with amswering more and more. Trent rubbed his hairy chest, recalling his sweet soft pecs that he missed.

Thursday, August 22nd

Trent:"Hey, man. How is it going?"

Friday, August 23rd

Trent:"Hey. I just wanna know if you're ok. I just wanna talk about the reversal."

Saturday:"please call me back as soon as possible"

Sunday, August 25th

Brett:"I'm ok"

Trent:"What the hell happened?"

Brett:"Nothing I just felt like I needed a break from phone and that stuff"

Trent:"Brett you didn't answer the phone for 4 days"

Brett:"Ok, I was avoiding you, cause I kinda fucked up and was afraid to tell you"

Trent:'What did you do? Is my body ok?"

Brett:"Yeah your body is unharmed. Nothing that bad. We just had a party in the appartement. Broke the TV and... I had unprotected sex with one girl. She didn't know if she was pregnant or not. So I was waiting. And congrats. You're not gonna be a dad"

Trent:"Brett..."

Brett:"I know. I'm so sorry. Won't happen again. Promise. I just got drunk once and it led to this. I'll be good now"

Trent:"Please, don't do anything anymore. I want to switch back"

Brett:"Nah man. We still gotta week to finish. You said until September 2nd."

Trent:"I didn't know you'd do something like this"

Brett:"Please Trent. I'm begging you. Just that one week"

Trent:"Fine. But don't do anything else!"

Sunday, September 1st

Brett:"Hey. Are you packed yet?"

Trent:"Hey. Not really. I planned on packing tommorow. You can come and help if you got time"

Brett:"Sure. I'll come by"

Monday, September 2nd

Trent arrives to the appartement. Brett is on the couch playing video games

The TV is new and there is a PlayStation on the table

Trent:"You didn't tell me you got back into gaming and that you bought all this."

Brett:"Yeha, I missed it. I thought to myself that you'd like it too. So I bought it. By the way. You should see how the fans dig it"

Trent:"Fans? You're live streaming in my body?"

Brett:"Yeah. The gamers are so into it when I'm flexing in the spare time. I even got a viral Tiktok already!"

Trent:"I think we should swap back, Brett. My life is out of your control now."

Brett:"I'm just using all the goods, man. You don't like my body anymore?"

Trent:"Stop changing the subject. I want to swap back"

Brett:"Ok... but on one condition"

Trent:"You want money?"

Brett;"Nah I want to have sex with my body. I want to have sex with you."

Trent:"You have lost your mind"

Brett:"Oh come on. Admit it, that you thought about it. Who gets the chance to fuck their body? To watch their body in the most animalistic moments from somebody else eyes?" Brett flexes his biceps to let Brett watch

Trent:"Brett..."

Brett stands up and goes towards Trent

Brett:"You know you want to kids thus face. To suck this hard dick" he says holding tightly his hardening bulge

Trent:"I... I do. I want to suck my dick"

Brett:"Atta boy"

They begin making out. The fast movements heading towards the bedroom could be described as chaotic, but for them it was a dance of passion. Brett was ripping his old clothes from his old body was all over his body, kissing his neck. Sucking each part of his skin

The kissed even more

Brett began to be more dominant. He gripped Trent's now receding hairline and pushed him down to suck his dick. Trent was choking. But did his best to swallow most of the shaft he now had. He had his dick in his mouth. He couldn't believe it. He is straight and he is sure of that. But this is absolutely different

Brett took his old body by the neck, choking him. "Say you love being in my body"

Trent:"Brett I can't breathe"

Brett:"Fine, let's do this the hard way"

He turned him around. Trent now on all fours. He knew what was coming, but he wasn't ready

Brett spit in his hand and spread it all over the head od his dick. Ready to penetrate his old hairy hole

Trent:"Brett wait... I... Ahhhhhhhh". Trent screamed in pain

Brett:"Yeah. Sorry about that. I'm just so horny. I love your body, Trent. I love every inch od it. Admit you like mine"

Trent:"Brett, please slow down"

Brett:"Naaah, you'll get used to it in a sex"

Trent:"Please, get lube or something"

Brett spit again to where his dick was penetrating Trent's ass. Brett:"Should do it"

Trent was still in pain, but now a new feeling was making him feel better. The pain was now... pleasant? He wanted to feel more. With every thrust from Brett. He felt like shitting himself and cumming at the same time

Brett:"Admit it. Admit you love being in my body" he sped up. Thrusting painfully.

Trent:"Yeah.... yes..."

Brett:"Louder"

Trent:"I do... I love your body. I love being you"

Brett:"Ahhhh. I'm gonna cum. Turn around. I want to cum on your chest"

Trent turned around. He could feel cum leaking from his dick. And now he saw his old face like he never did before. Brett was so into it. His face was full of lust, rage and mischief.

Brett:"Ahhhh. I'm cumming!"

The cum shot all over Trent. Not only on his chest, but also on his mouth and face

Trent watched in awe what just happened.

Brett:"Whew. That was a ride wasn't it? First gay sex. Am I right?"

Trent:"Brett... I?"

Brett:"Oh sorry. I have to catch my breath. You look so funny with my cum all over you. Haha. By the way. I'm glad you love your new body. You get to keep it"

Trent:"Brett, you said we would swap"

Brett:"Yeah I did. That's true. But after this little 'cum over your face' and 'dick in your ass' we made it permanent"

Trent watched in shock as his old body was still standing on top of him. Breathing rapidly and laughing.

Several months later

Hi my name is Brett. Welcome to my only fans channel. If you got any hairy request, hit me up

Brett in Trent's body:"Well this is just pathetic. Man, I knew you'd crumble. But this just seems you lost your mind"

Trent's massive colleague came next to him:"Hey, bro. What are you looking at?"

Brett:"Just looking how one of my friends threw away their life, kinda sad. But whatever. Their life, not mine"

Friend:"Hey, wanna grab a beer later this evening?"

Brett scanned his friend from top to bottom and smiled:"Sure thing. Be there at eight"

Brett thought about switching it up a little. That body would be amazing. But then he turned around and looked at himself in the mirror. And flexed

Brett:"Nah. I'm Trent. And I'm keeping this body"

A request from messages (another one who waited for a LONG time, sorry guys) for @swappwas

Hope you like it :)

P.S. written late at night on a phone with a very irritating autocorrect, so please excuse the mistakes

#friends body swap #body swapping #body swap #body switch #body switching #m2m body swap #straight to gay #Straight body swap

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heavenslittlemachine · 4 months ago

Text

there is a particular kind of joke which involves the humorist introducing a series of items that, at the beginning, seems relatively banal or straightforward; a standard list. the crux of the joke, however, is that at some point during the list, the teller reveals an item or items which are, dramatically, not standard in comparison to the rest of the list. the humor of the joke lies in the inversion of audience expectation.

there are a few different schools of thought, however, around the most effective or efficient method of pulling off the gag.

the first school (old school, if you will) held that the reveal should be placed dead last in the list. in the early days of humor theory, jokes were valued which had a certain punchy quality to them. these were the days of "zingers" and "one-liners;" verbal comedy, in this way, mirrored the slapstick comedy which was in style at the time.

a second school developed some years after the first, which introduced the idea that the reveal should be placed in the middle of the set, after which the list returns to its standard. this was considered somewhat unsettling to the more traditional comediists; they claimed it would leave audiences, who were expecting a conclusion to the gag, disappointed, confused, and slightly dissonant at the end of the joke. while the second school, coming of age during the early cold war era, said that this was exactly the idea. the shape of humor was changing with the political tides.

in time a third technique emerged. the set would be introduced, business as usual, for the first several items. as the list went on, however, the comedian would insert increasingly off-theme items into the list, until, by the end, the list had become a continuous barrage of dramatic parodies on its original theme. we can draw parallels here with the film genre of the "psychological thriller," which had recently caught the public imagination by storm.

the fourth school you could say was a kind of blending of the first two, a fresh twist on an old classic. in these sets, the jokester brings in the standard set, reveals the non-standard item, returns to the standard, and then, spontaneously, reveals another non-standard item. this is repeated ad infinitum, with a majority of the school holding that the longer the gag runs, the better; rattling off increasingly lengthy lists of standard items between the gag items has, they say, a similar effect to erotic edging.

those are all of the different theories of list humor. thank you for reading my post.

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saddleups · 3 months ago

Note

you're single handedly feeding all the james sunderlanders tysm for ur service 🙏🙏🙏 can i request if you'd do submissive pathetic james? he's just sooo wet cat in a box left in the rain vibes. again, tysm in advance & lovelovelove ur work 🫡🫡🫡

★ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 . . . 5k

★ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 . . . request , complete. JAMES SUNDERLAND X F!READER !! 18+ SMUT MDNI !!

★ 𝐂𝐖 . . . sub!james . slight fem!dom . handcuffs . cock torture(?) . cervix kissing . breeding ( kinda ) p_rn with a plot !

★ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . . . omg i wouldn't go that far ! there's so many great writers out there feeding us all <3 i appreciate the kind words tho ?? like ur too sweet <3 <3 trying my hand at being more confident with my exposition ( tend to delete a lot out of fear that it just sounds rambly ) so it may flow differently than my other stuff , i still hope u like it tho !!

Kind and attentive, James was always perfectly in sync, never too early or too late. He opened doors, walked on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street, steering you clear of puddles and surprises. Every morning began with his texts, every night ended the same. Sweet surprises, from flowers to stuffed bears, little notes in his distinct handwriting—I was thinking of you. In bed, his touch was just as intimate, hands locked, eyes meeting, searching each other deeply, with neither of you leaving unsatisfied.

Yet, despite the warmth of his affection, a nagging thought persisted: were you giving James the attentiveness he secretly craved? Something seemed to linger in him, an unspoken kink kept close, like a shy confession he wasn’t ready to make. You found yourself distracted by it, craving to claw into the mystery of what he kept hidden. James Sunderland had seen so many sides of you, held you in your most vulnerable moments. You could feel him pushing you to the edge, waves cresting in those unforgettable, mind-bending orgasms that left a faint blush in your cheeks when the memory caught you off guard in public. Still, you yearned to uncover his own desires; fulfill him in the same sense he fulfilled you.

It was a simple date to the mall, his hand holding yours as you strolled the tiled floors under bright fluorescent lights. He soothed you, indulged your whims. And when you passed the shop—kitschy and dimly lit with laughing teens slipping in and out—a sudden idea sparked.

“Let’s go in here.” You didn’t give James much of a choice, tightening your grip and pulling him inside. The shop started tame enough—T-shirts, quirky collectibles—but deeper inside, past a beaded curtain, the lights dimmed. Shelves were lined with rows of phallic toys, vibrating bullets, and skimpy costumes. You glanced at James, noting his hands tucked into his pockets, his expression steady. He didn’t seem fazed by the setting, unlike you, whose pulse had picked up, curiosity running hot as you wondered what was on his mind.

You watched his gaze flick to a BDSM kit, then quickly away. You raised an eyebrow, reading nothing from him as he moved on. Maybe he's into that? A school girl costume caught his eye next, the model on the package striking a bold, risqué pose. Is it roleplay? He only shook his head, lips quirking, dismissing the thought. Okay, not that either.

You broke the silence with a grin. “I used to have one of these,” you said, tapping a box with a vibrator behind a clear, glittery window. Mutual masturbation? It had to be.

James turned, slightly intrigued. “What?”

You shrugged. “It was cute, but it kept dying on me.”

He only smiled, and your theory about mutual kinks dissolved a bit more. Not that either? Just when you thought your plan had fallen flat, you caught his gaze settling on a different item—a pair of classic handcuffs, fluffy pink like in the movies. Tame, yet there was something in his eyes. You reached over, fingertips brushing his arm as he shivered under your touch. So, it is the handcuffs.

You lingered a second longer, voice low. “Ready to go?”

James nods as you exit the store, hand in hand just as you’d entered. Absent of the handcuffs, you start devising a new plan. “Shoot! —I think I left my phone in there.”

You rummage through your bag, feigning worry. “Must’ve set it down when I picked up that box.” You glance up to see James’ hand resting on his chest, his heartbeat quickening, reassuring your suspicions concerning the cuffs. “Stay here; I’ll be right back.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Sure you don’t want me to come with?”

You flash him a quick smile. “It'll be quick. Don’t miss me too much.”

Inside the shop again, you move swiftly to the shelf, snatching up the handcuffs and stuffing the small black bag deep into your purse before heading back. Adrenaline pumping through your veins as you rejoin James, he asks, “Want to catch a movie?”

You shake your head, a little grin tugging at your lips. “I’m a bit tired. Let’s head home.”

He agrees quickly—maybe too quickly, his usual composure slipping just enough for you to catch a hint of nervous anticipation in his eyes. You're reassured. It is the handcuffs.

As he drives, the silence between you is thick with tension, each mile seeming to stretch. The new toy in your purse become impossible to ignore, the mere thought of them swirling in your mind. Your plans with the cuffs still in the air, unsure what your intentions were, what James' could be. Meanwhile, James keeps his gaze steady on the road, one hand resting on your thigh, his slender fingers gently pressing against you—a subtle but treasured touch. Your mind adrift at the sight of the manicured nails, he kept them pristine. His wrist, stronger than it looked it's held you down on multiple occasions as he thrusted into you. And when he wasn't? Those pretty fingers circled on your clit, exposing the hood of your bud in order to allow his mouth to work until your undoing. Biting your lip you fiend your hunger, keeping it dormant until your plans come into fruition.

"At the shop," James cuts the silence. "What was that, that thing? The one that you said kept dying on you."

You blink, "the vibrator?"

"Yeah, vibrator... That's the word."

"What about it?"

"Nothing," he shrugs.

Unwilling to accept his answer, you press him. "You wouldn't bring it up if it was nothing."

James chuckles stealing a quick glance. "You caught me." He confesses lightheartedly, "those...toys always interested me."

Fuck. You should've grabbed the vibrator.

Your heart races as you realize you may have misread the situation. Even so, you're not about to let this opportunity slip away. "Really?" you ask, trying to keep your voice casual. "What interests you about them?"

James hesitates, his fingers tightening slightly on your thigh. It's hard not to notice his possessive edge, only furthering your doubts. "I guess... the intensity. The way they can make someone lose control."

You swallow hard, heat blooming in your core. "Have you ever used one before?"

He shakes his head. "No, never."

"Well," you say, your voice low and teasing, "maybe we can go back another time and pick one out together."

James' grip on your thigh tightens slightly. "I'd like that," he says softly.

God, were your plans for the night ruined?

The car pulls into your driveway, and James cuts the engine. For a moment, you both sit in silence, the air thick with unspoken words. James opens your car door as always, ever the gentleman. Inside, you set your purse down carefully, acutely aware of its hidden contents; feeling foolish for your possible blunder. However, one thing is for certain; the experience in the shop must've had an effect on him. The conversation about your vibrator, the pretty fluffy cuffs. It was still thrilling, keeping this from him like a dirty little secret. The plan still forming in your head had you battling with how to introduce the object to the bedroom. He didn't seem into the roleplay, BDSM was, well...that was something.

James moves to the kitchen, falling into his usual routine of making tea. He asks if you’re interested in having a cup yourself, you shake your head. “I’m okay, thank you.”

You watch James as he sips his tea, his long fingers wrapped around the delicate porcelain cup. You watch him from across the kitchen, admiring the way his Adam’s apple bobs with each swallow. Steam rises in lazy curls, and you can smell the faint aroma of bergamot. He looks relaxed, at ease, and you wonder if he's forgotten about the tension from earlier. You certainly haven't. The handcuffs weigh heavily in your mind, tucked away in your purse like a guilty secret. You'd been so sure, so certain that you'd cracked the code of James' hidden desires. Now, doubt gnaws at you. What if you'd misread everything? What if the vibrator comment had been genuine curiosity, not a hint at a deeper kink?

You push the thoughts aside, determined to enjoy this quiet moment with James. Domestic bliss. He tells you about his day at work, about the new project he's excited about, and you listen, nodding and smiling at all the right moments. But your mind keeps drifting back to the handcuffs, the vibrator, you plans, your precious plans.

James excuses himself, saying he's going to take a shower before bed. He gives you a quick kiss on the forehead before leaving you in the kitchen. You let out a sigh and start thinking about where you may have hidden your vibrator. There's no way you threw it out; even though it died frequently, it was still there for you when you needed it. You hold your head in frustration until you finally decide to brave your panty drawer, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to disturb James' shower.

After digging around for a bit, you find the glittery pink wand nestled in the back. It looks less phallic than you remember; perhaps it was too embarrassing to use such a lewd-looking tool. You unscrew the bottom and see that the batteries have died. Typical. With determination, you rush to the kitchen and rummage through the junk drawer until you find a spare set of batteries. You pop them into the vibrator and turn the dial, feeling a surge of relief as the motor whirs to life. The sound alone makes your cheeks flush with embarrassment and excitement. You quickly switch it off, straining your ears to ensure that the shower is still running. Relief washes over you as you hear the water splashing against the title.

Clutching your prize, you retrieve the black bag from your bag, before tiptoeing back into the bedroom. Heart racing as you place both items on the bedspread. Observing them with your hands on your hips, wondering how to introduce the two new toys into your bedroom routine.

James stands underneath the showerhead, the scalding water pelting his skin like a punishment. He pulls at his hair and bites his lip in a desperate attempt to distract himself from the torturous thoughts consuming him. The memories of that trip to the sex shop send a surge of arousal through him, instead of the expected shame. Images of you in lingerie and him bound in pink fluffy cuffs flood his mind, sending shivers down his spine. The mere mention of a vibrator had been enough to make him squirm with sinful desire. Your words saying such dirty things, it did things to him. His twisted desires boiling beneath the surface, threatening to consume him. James grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to suppress the rising heat in his core. But it's no use. His half-hard cock betrays him, twitching with need. Surrendering to his own perverse nature, he presses his forehead against the cold tile wall and clenches his fists above him. With one hand, he pumps his length in agonizing strokes, edging himself closer and closer to release until ribbons of hot cum collect in his palm before washing away down the drain, leaving him spent but still craving more.

The bathroom door creaks open, drawing your attention away from the pile of toys you were hastily trying to hide. James emerges, his muscular form barely concealed by a towel wrapped around his waist. Droplets of water cling to his toned chest, glistening in the soft light of the room. The towel sits low on his hips, revealing the v-shape that leads down to his happy trail - a dark patch of hair that looks enticingly natural and trimmed. Your heart races as he steps closer, your gaze unable to resist lingering on the course hair framing his girth. You try to act nonchalant, but you know he can see right through your flushed cheeks and nervous demeanor.

"Everything okay?" he asks, running a hand through his damp hair.

"Of course," you reply, perhaps a bit too quickly. "Just... thinking." Your voice trails, urging James’ curiosity. He raises a brow, “what about?”

You hesitate, caught between desire and uncertainty. The handcuffs and vibrator are hidden beneath the covers, but their presence feels electric, charging the air between you. James' eyes are dark, searching yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

"I was thinking about... us," you manage, your voice low. "About what you might like."

James takes a step closer, the towel slipping dangerously low on his hips. "What I might like?" he repeats, his voice husky.

Your heart races as you nod. "In the shop, I noticed you looking at some things. I thought maybe..."

You trail off, unsure how to continue. James closes the distance between you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "What did you think?" he asks softly. There’s eagerness in his eyes, ones that mimicked your own. The moment stretches, taut with possibility. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. With a weak smile, you slide your hand underneath the pillow and retrieve the pink wand and pair of cuffs. James' eyes widen with disbelief as he looks down at the toys in your possession.

"I bought them," you say coolly, "the cuffs at least. The vibrator, it’s mine. I found it."

"It's the same one you used before?" he asks. His arousal builds as he seeks clarification. You can feel his tension and anticipation.

You nod, feeling a sense of power and control wash over you. "I used it all the time before I met you."

James swallows, his desire growing with each passing moment. He can't help but wonder what you have planned for him.

"What do you want to do with them?" you ask, noticing the shift in James' demeanor. He's waiting for your command, his naivety and innocence only adding to his appeal. There it was. It wasn’t the cuffs or the vibrator, it was your control he craved.

"Do you want me to use them on you, James?" you ask, your voice dripping with dominance.

His breath hitches and he nods eagerly, his eyes wide like a lost puppy begging for an owner.

But you're not satisfied with just a nod. You need to hear it from his lips, to make him submit completely.

"Answer me," you demand, your eyes boring into his with an intense heat. Your own confidence grows as you embody James' ultimate desire.

James swallows hard before finally giving in. "Y-yes," he stammers out, unable to resist your commanding presence.

"Yes?" you repeat, reveling in your newfound power over him.

“Yes, please.”

Your heart races at James' submission. You've unlocked something within him, a side he's kept hidden until now. With gentle authority, you guide him to the bed, pushing him down onto the soft sheets. His towel falls away, revealing his sculpted body in all its glory.

"Tell me everything," you whisper, trailing your fingers along his chest. "Every fantasy, every secret. I want to know it all."

James shivers under your touch, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've always wanted... to be at your mercy. To surrender control completely."

You nod, encouraging him to continue. He takes a shaky breath. "I imagine you tying me up, teasing me. Using toys on me, making me wait for your permission to come." His cheeks flush as he confesses, "Sometimes I think about you... using a….”

You nod, a thrill running through you at James' confession. "Go on," you urge softly.

James swallows hard, his voice wavering. "Sometimes I think about you... using a strap-on on me. Taking me completely."

Your breath catches at his words, a surge of heat flooding your core. You hadn't expected that, but the image it conjures is intoxicating.

"Is that what you want, James?" you ask, your voice low and husky. "You want me to fuck you?"

He nods, unable to meet your gaze. "Yes," he whispers. "Please."

You lean in, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. When you pull back, your eyes are dark with desire. "We'll work up to that," you promise. "For now, let's start with these."

Dangling the handcuffs in front of James, watching his eyes widen with anticipation. "Hands above your head," you command softly, and he complies without hesitation. The metal clicks as you secure his wrists to the headboard, leaving him exposed and vulnerable beneath you. Your fingers trail down his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. "Such pretty boy," you murmur, drinking in the sight of him. James shivers under your touch, straining slightly against the restraints.

You reach for the vibrator, turning it on to its lowest setting. The soft buzz fills the air as you trace it along James' collarbone, down his sternum, circling his navel. He gasps, his hips lifting involuntarily.

"Someone’s excited," you chide gently. "Tell me more, James," you purr, trailing the vibrator along his inner thigh. "What other fantasies have you been hiding from me?"

James squirms, his breath coming in short gasps. "I... I've thought about you dominating me completely. Ordering me around, making me pleasure you in public places where we might get caught."

You reward his confession with a gentle buzz against his shaft, making him moan. "Go on," you encourage, completely enthralled by his unwinding state. His breath becoming irregular, eyes struggling to stay open. His fingernails digging into his palm, and his toes, digging into the comforter beneath him. Completely submissive to you and it hadn’t even been five fucking minutes.

"Sometimes," he continues, his voice strained, "I imagine you denying me release for days, keeping me on edge until I'm begging for your touch."

Your own arousal spikes at his words. You increase the vibrator's intensity, circling it around the base of his cock. "What else?"

James arches into your touch, pulling at the handcuffs. "I want you to use my body for your pleasure.” He gasps out, “to make me your toy, your plaything. I want to be at your mercy.”

His words send a jolt of electricity through you. You've never seen James like this - so open, so vulnerable, so desperate for your touch. It's intoxicating.

"Such a good boy," you purr, rewarding him by sliding the vibrator up his shaft. James moans, his hips bucking involuntarily. "But I think you can do better. Tell me your deepest, darkest fantasy. The one you've never dared speak aloud."

James bites his lip, hesitating. You increase the vibrator's intensity, making him cry out. "Tell me," you demand softly.

"I... I want you to use me.” James gasps out, “to control me, to punish me when I disobey you.”

You hadn’t expected James to harbor such intense submissive desires. The power he’s surrendering to you intoxicates you. “Is that what you want, baby?” You purr, trailing the vibrator along his inner thigh away from his twitching cock already glistening with pre-cum. “To be all mine?”

He nods frantically, straining against the handcuffs. "Yes, please. I want to be yours completely."

You reward him by pressing the vibrator against the base of his cock, making him cry out. "Such a good boy," you murmur. "So honest for me."

James writhes beneath you, his his hips bucking desperately as you tease him with the vibrator. His confession has ignited a fire within you, unleashing a dominant side you didn't know you possessed.

"Look at you," you purr, drinking in the sight of him. "So needy, so desperate. And all mine."

You trail the vibrator along his shaft, circling the sensitive head. His saline blending onto the base of the vibrator until it shined. James moans, pulling at the handcuffs. "Please," he gasps.

"Please what?" you ask, your voice low and commanding.

"Please... touch me. Let me come. I need you so badly."

You smile, a wicked glint in your eye. "Oh baby, we're just getting started."

With a flick of your wrist, you turn off the vibrating wand and gaze at James' cum that had coated its base. He watches you with curious eyes, desperate for more of your attention. Sensing his desire, you bring the wand to your lips and kiss it, flicking your tongue against the salty residue of his pleasure. A jolt shoots straight to your core, igniting a fiery heat within you.

James lets out a low whimper as you lean in with a sly smirk, pressing your soft lips against his. You allow him to taste himself on you, driving him wild with desire. "Don't you taste so sweet?" you tease, knowing just how much he loves to hear you say it.

His reaction is like a drug to you, taking you to a place of pure ecstasy that you never knew existed. Slowly and deliberately, you begin to undress, each piece of clothing teasingly removed as James watches, mesmerized. He's always enjoyed the undressing aspect of sex, but now it's torture for him since it isn't him peeling away the layers of fabric. You take your time removing your flowy blouse, undoing the strings that hold it together and allowing it to gracefully fall from your shoulders. James can feel himself getting harder at the sight of your exposed skin. Next comes the silky camisole, adorned with delicate lace and a cute bow at the center. The mere sight of it makes James close his eyes in an attempt to control his overwhelming desire. He knows he could cum right then and there if he let himself give in completely.

But then you demand his attention by whispering firmly, "Eyes on me." His eyes shoot open in response.

"Yes, sorry," he stammers, unable to look away from your figure.

The camisole is slowly removed, revealing a simple jersey bra that may not have the same allure as lace, but it doesn't matter. Nothing can distract James from the beauty before him. Your bra comes off next, and with it, all of James' self-control begins to crumble. The fabric falls to the floor, leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable before him. And he can hardly contain himself any longer. How is this possible? The thought races through his mind. I’m already so hard, god she’s making me harder. Is that possible?

Savoring the way James’ eyes devour you, his gaze burning with lust that can no longer be contained. His hands strain against the cuffs, desperate to touch you. Your hands move to the waistband of your skirt, slowly unzipping it and letting it pool at your feet. James' eyes hungrily take in every inch of newly exposed skin. You're left in just a pair of lacy panties, the final barrier between you.

"Do you want these off too?" you ask teasingly, hooking your thumbs under the waistband.

James nods frantically, straining against the handcuffs. "Yes, please," he begs.

You smile wickedly. "I don't know... I kind of like seeing you squirm."

You crawl onto the bed, straddling James' thighs. His erection strains against your inner thigh, hot and insistent. You grind against him slightly, making him groan.

"Tell me what you want, James," you purr, running your hands up his chest. “I wanna hear you beg for it.”

James' eyes are wild with desire, his chest heaving as he struggles against the handcuffs. "Please," he gasps, "I need to touch you. I'm dying. I’m going fucking crazy." The tears welling in the corners of his eyes begin to fall down his cheeks. What a sight, it almost leaves you breathless.

A soft laugh falls from you, trailing a finger down his chest. "Is that so? And why should I let you?"

"Because I'll do anything," James pleads, his voice thick with desperation. "Anything you want, anything you ask. I'll be your perfect plaything, your obedient servant. Just please, let me touch you."

You lean in close, your breath hot against his ear. "Anything?" you whisper.

"Yes," James moans. "I'll worship every inch of your body. I'll pleasure you for hours, until you're trembling and begging for release. I'll let you use me however you want - tie me up, spank me, tease me. I'll be your good boy, your perfect toy. Just please, I need to feel you."

His raw desperation sends a thrill through you. You've never seen James like this - so needy, so vulnerable. "Such pretty words," you purr, nipping at his earlobe. "But I think you can do better."

You shift, positioning yourself so that your core hovers just inches above his straining erection. James whimpers, his hips bucking up fruitlessly.

"Tell me how badly you want me," you command softly. "Paint me a picture with your words."

James swallows hard, his eyes wild with lust. "I want you so badly it hurts," he gasps out. "Every inch of my body is on fire, fuck I need you. Please, please. Untie me. I need to fuck you.”

He’s biting at you, his desperation etched into the lines of his face. His eyes are wild, like a caged animal longing for freedom. You grip his cheeks tightly, your nails digging into the soft flesh and leaving red marks in their wake.

“Watch your tone,” you warn firmly.

“I’m sorry…I-I” he stammers, his breath ragged and uneven. “I’m sorry, please.” He exhales heavily, defeated. “I need to feel you, to fuck you.”

“Be specific,” you demand.

He licks his lips nervously. “I want to put my cock inside you,” he says boldly, his gaze never faltering from yours. “Deep inside, until it reaches your cervix. I want to worship you, to serve you.”

“Please,” he pleads again. “Untie me, I’m begging you. Please.” The desperation in his voice is palpable as he begs for release, not just from his restraints. Your resolve crumbles at James' desperate pleas. With trembling fingers, you reach up and unlock the handcuffs, freeing his wrists.

The moment he's unbound, James surges forward, crushing his lips against yours in a searing kiss. His hands are everywhere at once, roaming your body with frantic need, as if he's trying to memorize every curve and plane. The sound that elicits from your throat betrays your once dominating nature, but neither of you pay it any mind. Both of you hopelessly turned on, seeking for any form of release.

He flips you onto your back, his weight pressing you into the mattress. His mouth trails hot kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking at your pulse point. You arch into him, gasping as his teeth graze your collarbone.

"God, I've been dying to touch you," James growls against your skin. His hands cup your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they pebble under his touch. You moan, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging him. “Good boys deserve a reward,”

James' eyes light up at your words, a mix of excitement and lingering desperation in his gaze. He captures your lips again, the kiss deep and hungry. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, tasting, exploring, as if he's trying to devour you whole. You respond with equal fervor, your hands roaming the planes of his back, nails raking lightly down his spine. He breaks away, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline and down your neck. His teeth graze your pulse point, making you gasp. "James," you breathe, arching into him.

His hands explore your body with reverence, as if he's mapping out every curve and dip. He cups your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they pebble under his touch. You moan softly, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging gently.

James tugs your earlobe with a bite, “can I put my cock in you?” He whispers.

"Tease me first.”

James gently pushes your legs apart, spreading you wide open before him. His eyes drink in the sight of you, pupils dilated with lust. Your panties are soaked through, the delicate lace darkened and clinging to your folds. James runs a finger along the damp fabric, making you shiver. "It’s so wet," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. He hooks his fingers under the waistband, slowly dragging the panties down your legs. The cool air hits your heated core, making you gasp.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers reverently, his fingers trailing up your inner thighs. "So perfect." James positions himself between your thighs, his cock hard and throbbing. He wraps his length in the damp fabric of your panties, groaning at the sensation. "You feel so good," he whispers, "even through this. I can't wait to be inside you."

“Please let me put it in.”

With a devilish smirk, James pulls your panties aside, revealing your glistening and eager cunt. He can practically taste your arousal and you swear you see him drool with hunger. “Fuck me, James. Show me how good of a boy you really are.”

James enters you, the cool dampness of your cunt enveloping him as he thrusts deep inside. In unison, both of you curse and scream profanities, calling out to some higher power as waves of ecstasy begin to rip through your bodies. His pace is slow and deliberate, each movement calculated to bring you closer to the edge. “Harder,” you beg, craving more.

“Harder, James,” you moan as he swallows hard, adjusting his body to hit just the right angle that will send both of you over the edge. With each thrust, your walls stretch and clench around him, unable to resist his powerful girth. It's a sensation that no toy could ever replicate. “You're so good for me,” you praise him, urging him on as he seeks out that spongey treasure inside of you.

And then he finds it. Your spongey, angelic cervix kissing the tip of his reddened cock. He knows he does when your legs start to buckle and your back arches in an almost unnatural way. Your body seizes with pleasure and surrender as a loud, guttural groan escapes your lips, surprised at the primal sound that can be made in the throes of passion.

“You're mine,” you growl possessively as James relentlessly pounds into you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Your bodies are slick with sweat, the scent of desire filling the air. The sound of skin slapping against each other echoes loudly in the room, fueling both of your lust. As James’ pace quickens and his breath hitches, you can sense his own release approaching.

Desperate to please him and yourself, you demand as firmly as you can, “James—James, be a good boy and cum for me okay?”

Too lost in the throes of passion, he nods blindly before gasping out, “Inside you?” His voice is strained with desire as he asks, “You want my hot cum inside your tight pussy?”

“Yes, James, please,” you moan desperately, writhing beneath him. In a final burst of ecstasy, James grips your hips tightly and releases himself deep inside you, claiming you completely as his own.

You both collapse in a sweaty, exhausted heap, your limbs tangled together as you struggle to catch your breath. The room is thick with the heady scent of sex and sweat, the air still vibrating with the echoes of your shared pleasure. James' weight presses you into the mattress, his body a warm, comforting presence above you. You can feel his heart thundering against your chest, matching the frantic rhythm of your own.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. The only sound is your ragged breathing slowly returning to normal. James nuzzles into the crook of your neck, pressing soft, lazy kisses against your damp skin. You run your fingers through his hair, reveling in the silky texture and the way he hums contentedly at your touch.

Slowly, reluctantly, James rolls off you, but he doesn't go far. He gathers you into his arms, pulling you close against his chest. You can feel the rapid beating of his heart gradually slowing as he holds you.

"That was..." James trails off, struggling to find the right words.

"Intense," you finish for him, your voice soft and a little hoarse.

He nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I've never... I mean, I didn't know…"

You tilt your head up to look at him, seeing a mix of vulnerability and awe in his eyes. "Was it okay?" you ask, suddenly feeling a flicker of uncertainty. "I didn't push you too far, did I?"

James shakes his head emphatically. "No, god no. It was... You were incredible." He pauses, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. You smile, warmth blooming in your chest at his words. "I'm glad," you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. "I loved seeing that side of you."

You sneak him a glance.

“You should tell me more about your fantasies more often.”

#james sunderland smut #james sunderland x reader #james sunderland #james x reader #silent hill 2 #silent hill 2 smut #silent hill x reader #james sunderland silent hill #silent hill x reader smut #saddleups #filed: perfectly in sync

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mktskii · 3 months ago

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—Explosive Fixation

part two.

—Synopsis: Bakugou's pride takes a massive hit when he finds himself drawn to someone outside the hero course—the best support course student he’s ever met, and the person who couldn’t care less about him. What starts as begrudging respect (and annoyance) slowly turns into something he can’t ignore. Now, if only his stupid gauntlets would stop breaking long enough for him to figure out how to deal with these frustrating, unfamiliar feelings.

—Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x AFAB + Support Course!Reader.

—Genre: Slow-burn romance, slice-of-life.

—Tags: Enemies-to-lovers, banter, RBF reader, grumpy x grumpier, miscommunication, one-sided crush, support course expertise, Bakugou struggling with feelings, Bakugou crushing on reader so hard, reader is tired of everyone's shit, reader does not take Bakugou serious AT all.

Bakugou finding himself crushing on someone from the support course? The very idea would have Bakugou ready to throw himself into an explosion, especially since you're not even in the hero course. How did this happen? You're just a regular student from the support department, not some flashy hero-in-training. Hell, you don’t even try to impress people! Bakugou's Bakugou—so why, out of all the people, is he suddenly caught up in the fact that he likes you like that?

It all started with his gauntlets, which were, as always, broken after another insane training session. This time, however, Hatsume Mei was busy with a massive backlog of orders. So, when he stormed into the support lab to demand a quick fix, Hatsume just waved him off with a nonchalant “go ask them” and pointed to you, buried under a mountain of tools and gear. You were known in the department, even beyond that. People whispered that you were better than Hatsume herself when it came to making support items, which was already wild because Hatsume was a freakin' genius. But here’s the kicker—you didn’t want the attention. You didn’t care for the praise or even the stress of constant requests for new gear. Okay, fine. Maybe you do a little. And when Bakugou, the most demanding, arrogant student in the entire school, barged into your workspace, his booming voice interrupting your flow, you quite literally did not want to put up with his shit. “Get out.” Your voice was cold, indifferent, and to the point. Bakugou had expected, well, anything else—maybe some stammering or apologies and you dropping everything and fixing his gauntlets like he demanded. But this? Definitely not this complete lack of interest. He was fuming. “Do you know who the hell I am?” he growled.

Your eyes barely flicked up from the blueprint you were studying, annoyance clear in your expression. “Yeah. And I don’t care. Get out of my workspace.”

Needless to say, Bakugou had never been kicked out of anywhere before, and the fact that you banned him from ever asking for your help? Or, more correctly, fixing his stuff? That hit harder than any villain could. When he ranted to Kirishima, expecting him to agree with how crazy you were for doing all that, Kirishima was disappointed in him—actually disappointed for screwing up such a basic request. You? You were the best at what you do, and somehow, Bakugou had managed to ruin his only chance at getting you to fix his gauntlets.

Bakugou, in classic Bakugou fashion, decides to fix his gauntlets himself. He sketched up the mechanics of his gauntlets, so how hard could it be? Turns out, really freaking hard. Not only does he botch the repair, but his malfunctioning gauntlets accidentally explode during class, damaging some of his classmates and earning him the wrath of Aizawa and everyone else. He’s pissed—at himself, at his classmates, and mostly at the fact that he can’t get those damn gauntlets fixed without swallowing his pride and asking you.

The next time he sees you, it’s different. He doesn’t storm into your workspace like last time. He’s gritting his teeth, practically seething, but he still manages to blurt out, “Sorry for bein' an asshole. Fix this… please.” It sounds like the word “please” burns his tongue, but he says it.

You stare at him for a moment, and give him a sharp scoff but take his gauntlets. As you examined them, you muttered curses under your breath about “egotistical hero course jerks” and “time-wasting nonsense.” But, despite your annoyance, you went above and beyond. You reinforced his original design, making it stronger, lighter, and more streamlined for better control. When you handed them back, they didn’t look any different on the outside, but Bakugou could feel the difference the moment he tried them on. They were perfect.

For once, he didn’t have anything to complain about.

That’s when the “crush” began creeping in—though he’d rather die than admit it. Suddenly, he found himself making excuses to come back. His gauntlets were “damaged” again because he never knew just when to stop training. His headphones were “broken” (even though they weren’t). His phone “shattered” for no reason. Every stupid thing he could think of, he brought to you, just to have another interaction.

But the funniest part? You never gave him the satisfaction of a reaction. Your resting bitch face (legendary, by the way) stayed neutral, and your voice remained flat, devoid of excitement. You rolled your eyes, cursed under your breath, and muttered sarcastic comments as you fixed whatever Bakugou brought you. If anyone pissed you off, especially Bakugou, you'd mutter high-pitched imitations of their voice while glaring out of the corner of your eye, making him feel oddly uncertain—like he was the one out of place for once.

He hated it. You were smart. You matched his freakish drive to perfect your craft. And worst of all—you looked too good. Even after explosions from Hatsume’s latest disaster left you covered in soot, your tired, messy look didn’t detract from how attractive you were. It pissed him off.

But here’s the thing—he was still a dick. Despite the fact that he’d come back over and over, pretending his gauntlets needed another fix or inventing some nonsense reason to see you, he would never admit to liking you and, so, he’d go out of his way to piss you off just because, well, he can. So, hell no. He was not falling for some support course student who barely gave him the time of day.

...Right?

That’s what Bakugou kept telling himself, anyway, even as he found himself lingering a bit too long in the lab, watching you work with laser focus, unaware of the chaos happening in his head.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

#bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugou #mha #mha bakugou #mha x reader #reader is so done with bakugou #inspired by a bkdk fanfic i found on AO3 #bakugou is such a cutie omlll #hes probably gonna be less worried if his stuff will break and more concerned if your too busy to spare him some time to fix his stuff omg #ᴹᴬᴷᴵ ౨ৎ #blk writer

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stardust-swan · 2 years ago

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Why You Should Always Use Your Best Now Instead of Saving it for Later

🌹 Because you deserve to feel your best every day, not just on occasions.

🌹 Because "later" rarely comes.

🌹 Because you're just wasting your own money if you buy some high-quality makeup or skincare products just for them to expire barely used because you wanted to save them for an occasion.

🌹 Because life is unpredictable. What if a guest drops by unexpectedly and you're eating from a chipped plate or a tupperware container? What if you see your ex, or your crush, or meet the love of your life, or see your boss, or see someone who was mean to you in school, and you're wearing a worn-out hoodie and sweatpants with a hole? Many of us would feel self-conscious if something like that happened, but it can be avoided if you wear nice clothes and use your good china instead of keeping it hidden away for some possible future special event.

🌹 Because what's the point in having beautiful floral china, just for it to gather dust while you eat off of chipped plates and mismatched mugs? What's the point in owning silk blouses and cashmere jumpers, just for them to stay in your closet for months or years while you wear ratty t-shirts and sweatpants? What's the point in buying high quality makeup, just for it to spoil while you wear cheap stuff that's hard to put on and makes your face look cakey? Why own beautiful belongings just for them to never see the light of day?

🌹 Because using your best every day will show that you genuinely live well, instead of coming across as a phony when you meet the Joneses.

🌹 Because it's sad, after someone passes away, to see their fancy china, beautiful clothes, and other treasures in storage, rarely or never used, always waiting for an occasion that never came. If you won't use your best, who will? Life is short.

🌹 Because using your best everyday doesn't have to mean that special occasions will feel less special. Instead of only bringing out the good dinnerware for guests, use it everyday, but make occasions feel different with a spectacular floral arrangement, or with classical music on in the background instead of the TV. Wear your good foundation and mascara everyday, but wear a bolder makeup look for an event.

🌹 Because people's tastes change throughout the years. What if you buy something, keep it for later, and by the time later comes, you don't like it at all anymore?

🌹 Because special occasions still feel special even when you don’t use your best for them.

🌹 Because using beautiful items instead of settling for mediocrity elevates a normal day from feeling mundane to feeling decadent and luxurious.

Wear your good makeup. Wear your chic clothes. Put on your good skincare products. Doodle in your pretty notebooks. Burn your fancy candles. Spray your expensive perfume. Drink the expensive gifted wine. Eat the gourmet chocolates. Live in the now, not the uncertain future. Honour yourself by allowing yourself to use these special treasures.

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femmefatalevibe · 2 years ago

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Femme Fatale Guide: Products & Services Worth The Splurge

Fashion:

A great couple of bras in black/nude (your best skin-toned shade)

Comfortable, breathable, and seamless underwear

Outerwear (Coats, jackets, blazers)

The perfect pair of jeans

An LBD that works from day to night

Comfortable, sturdy, sleek, and timeless footwear (a versatile black boot, a black heel, white sneaker, and a black flat/loafer/sandal)

A timeless and versatile crossbody or shoulder bag (a larger one for the daytime/work or school and a smaller one for nighttime/events)

One or two well-made classic jewelry item(s)

A conversation-starting item or accessory

Beauty:

Sunscreen

Any skincare/skin cosmetic products that are game-changers for you

A quality hair brush, comb, and hair towel

Your signature scent

A quality razor/hair removal product

Vitamin C/Retinol serums

Reliable hair tools and sturdy nail tools

A quality hair heat protectant/scalp cleansing or conditioning spray

Makeup brushes and beauty tool cleaners

Home:

Lamps/lighting

Couch/desk chair

Everything for your bed: Bed frame, mattress/sheets/pillows, etc.

Knives

Dishwasher-safe and microwave-safe dishes & cups you love

A full-length mirror

Vacuum

Storage solutions/cedar blocks or moth balls

Quality holders for everything: Paper towels, shower storage, hooks, mailbox/key bowls

Name brand paper products/household cleaners

Electric toothbrush & Waterpik

Sound-proof headphones/Airpods

MacBook Air

Health & Wellness:

High-quality lettuce and/or sprouts

Organic frozen fruits and vegetables (if fresh is too pricey)

BPA-free canned goods

Potassium bromate & glyphosate-free grain products

Snacks free of artificial colors

Quality coffee

An at-home massage tool/heating pad

Fur products for skin/hair removal

Vitamin C/Retinol serums

Quality running shoes

Anything that goes near your vulva or into the vagina: Sex toys, lube, condoms, toy cleaners, pads/tampons/menstrual cups, cleansing wipes, etc.

A yoga mat, resistance band, and a pair of small ankle weights

Spotify subscription

Books and audiobooks

Services:

Therapy

A top-tier haircut

House cleaning (even if it's only once every couple of months)

Top-tier hair removal/brow maintenance services of your choice

Best doctors, dentists, OB/GYN, and dermatologists you can get

At least one personal training/styling session in your life

Professional/Social:

Ownership of the domain for your full legal/professional name and/or business name

A CPA/bookkeeper/fiduciary financial advisor

Automation workflow/content management system software

A lawyer for contract review/LLC services

Personalized stationery/"Thank You" cards

Memorable client gifting for the holidays/milestone successes

Niche skill-based certifications (Google, AWS, Hubspot, etc.) or courses made by trusted professionals in your field

Subscriptions in world-leading and industry-authority digital publications

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sosomonimagines · 4 months ago

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House's girl, part two — Gregory House x Daughter!Reader

Summary: House finally starts to genuinely care about someone, but they try to take that person away from him.

Warnings: talk of divorce and custody disputes (triggers for children of divorce like me, I imagine)

Author's notes: English is not my native language and I am from South America, so I don't know if my view of the court is authentic to that of the US. I did some research, but you never know!

Part one:

Three months ago, you began living with your father. Somehow, the two of you managed to establish a routine that brought a certain stability to the new arrangement. You would wake up at six-thirty in the morning on weekdays, and House, who got ready faster, always prepared a strawberry Pop-Tart for you. James would give you a ride to school at seven-thirty in the morning.

When you got home, sometimes at four, sometimes at six in the evening depending on your extracurricular activities, you would devote yourself to washing the dishes, aware that it was a task your father preferred to avoid. Your studies went on until eight at night, and often, your father would arrive around that time. He would bring food from the hospital cafeteria for you, usually a salad with meat and a bit of pasta. Over time, he noticed your love for pasta and liked to bring it for you whenever he could.

When your father arrived at that hour, you would take a break from studying to watch medical shows with him. On the occasions he came home later, which was quite common, he would go straight to bed without resorting to sleep aids. Although he used to rely on some substances to aid his sleep, he initially felt it would be inappropriate with you around, and then simply forgot the need for those medications.

On weekends, you dedicated yourself to studying, but also found time to keep your father company, whether by watching television together or quietly reading at the kitchen table. You both enjoyed watching old movies, like A Clockwork Orange and Psycho, as well as other classic Hitchcock thrillers.

While House followed a highly different and self-destructive routine on Saturdays and Sundays, he valued your presence, distancing himself, even if only temporarily, from the drugs and prostitutes that usually filled his days. He vividly recalled how challenging the first day you arrived at the house had been, but within just three days, the presence of another person had become an unexpected comfort. House couldn’t remember ever truly loving someone before; he had always associated love with pain. Yet, with you, it was strangely different. There was a genuine sense of melancholy and truth in paternal love that he had never experienced before.

He was still the same sarcastic and cynical man as before. The biting comments and natural teasing hadn’t disappeared; they remained, unshaken. Yet, something had changed. He knew that you weren’t just another person in his life — you were you.

•••

Saturday, November 5th:

You rummaged through the kitchen cabinets, noting that despite the changes since moving into your father's house, grocery shopping remained a persistent issue. Your father, who loathed going to the market, made his purchases erratically, buying only a few random items at convenience stores.

“There’s no food”, you said, glancing at your father, who was idly flipping through a newspaper.

“Have you considered learning to photosynthesize? We’d save money,” he replied with sarcasm.

“I’m hungry”

He sighed, put down the newspaper, and looked at you.

“Buy some food”

“Have you thought about going to the market yourself? Buying enough groceries for the month, preparing for a possible hurricane or any other natural disaster? Normal people do that.”

“Normal people, not incredible people like me”

“You should get treatment for that megalomania”, you said, shutting the kitchen cabinets with a bit more force than necessary.

“And you should work on your excessive use of big words to sound smarter” he retorted, pulling his wallet from his pants pocket and handing you a card. “Go shopping if that’s what you want. Call a cab to get to the market and another one to bring the groceries back”

“You’re coming with me”, you said firmly.

“Hey, I’m the parent here, I give the orders”, he retorted.

“Come with me”, you repeated. “You’re the responsible adult and need to fulfill your adult responsibilities.”

“Alright, Miss Bossy” he replied with an ironic smile. “When did you become so commanding? Has someone introduced you to my boss?”

•

When you both arrived home from the market, each carrying paper bags full of groceries, the nightmare began. The mailbox displayed a new letter, something that had probably arrived the day before and gone unnoticed by you until that moment — and, as usual, your father didn’t care enough to retrieve it.

You unloaded the groceries onto the kitchen counter and went back to retrieve the letter. It was addressed to your father and came from the New Jersey Court of Justice.

“Hey, dad,” you said, handing him the letter. “I think someone wants to arrest you.”

“You can’t even commit crimes in peace in this country”, he replied with an ironic tone.

As he opened the letter and read in silence, House's world seemed to collapse. It was one of the rare times he felt completely at a loss for words.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, concerned. “Wait, are they really trying to arrest you!?”

“No,” he answered in a low voice. He wasn’t sure which question he was answering, but the "no" seemed to apply to both “I need to go.”

And just like that, he left, clutching the letter, without explaining where he was going or what was happening.

•

Stacy Warner didn’t expect House to show up that Sunday. Since they had decided to part ways, House’s visits had always carried an unwelcome omen. They usually indicated a relapse on his part, an attempt to possess her merely to feed his ego. And with Mark, her current husband, present, the situation became even more uncomfortable and pointless.

“House, what are you doing here?” Stacy asked as she opened the door. The mention of his name drew Mark’s attention, who quickly joined her.

“You know you’re not welcome here, House,” Mark said, with a tone of disdain.

“Shut up, Mark,” House replied, frustration evident on his face.

“House! You can’t come here and talk to my husband like that,” Stacy exclaimed, exasperated

“I need legal help. I need lawyer Stacy, not my ex-wife Stacy,” House clarified, trying to stay focused.

“Are they finally going to revoke your medical license?” Mark asked sarcastically.

“Please, shut up,” House replied, and this time Stacy didn’t interrupt him.

Stacy invited him in and led him to her private office. The space was elegant and well-maintained, with tall dark wooden shelves filled with legal books. On the walls, diplomas and certificates hung, attesting to her experience and competence.

“What happened? Are they really trying to revoke your medical license?” Stacy asked, her tone serious, reflecting the gravity of the situation.

House didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he handed her the letter. Stacy opened it and began to read. In short, warned that your mother was asking for custody back, in addition to requesting a restraining order against his father.

“Y/N is living with you?” Stacy asked, perplexed. She was House’s second wife, and when they were together, you were still a young child. Stacy knew he had always met his legal obligations, paying child support on time, but she also knew he had little desire to take on parental responsibilities.

“For three months,” House replied.

“But why?”

“Because her mother decided to date a jerk who makes my daughter uncomfortable,” House answered angrily. “It was the police’s decision to send her to my house since I’m the closest relative and she wasn’t safe with the guy. The mother wouldn’t believe her.”

“And now she wants custody back?”

“Exactly.”

“You never wanted to take on the role of father to this girl. What 's changed?”

“What’s changed is that I’ve come to enjoy being her father, okay? Now help me. If she’s dating an abusive jerk, how can she possibly revoke custody?”

“I don’t know, House. Things aren’t so simple in the legal system. She might have broken up with the guy and is asking for a review of her current situation. Since she’s always been the one caring for Y/N, there’s a chance the judge might consider that. Plus…”

“Plus what?”

“She’s asking for a restraining order against you. She wants to present you as a danger to Y/N. She might use your drug history for that, which is a convincing argument.”

“I’m clean. I’m not a danger to my daughter; she’s just doing this to me because she hates me.”

“But you haven’t been clean for long, and you’ve never been actively involved in your daughter’s life. I can’t be entirely optimistic about your chances of winning the case.”

“I need you to help me. She’s the only thing that makes sense in my life, please, help me.”

“I’ll try, House.”

•

“Have you lost your mind?” you asked when your father came home. You were eating Ben & Jerry’s straight from the tub and watching old episodes of The Simpsons.

“What are you watching?” he asked, ignoring your judgment. He knew that leaving the house abruptly might have scared you, but at that moment, nothing mattered more than spending time with you.

“The Simpsons.” You paused and then asked, “Want to change the channel? Oh, wait, not being overly nice right?”

“Right,” he said with a small smile, sitting down beside you.

“Want some ice cream?”

“No,” he replied, and you both continued watching the show in silence.

Occasionally, House glanced at you, feeling a pang in his chest. It was the first time he truly cared about someone, truly loved someone, and they were trying to take that away from him. And it was the first time he felt a real need to fight for someone.

#fanfiction #gregory house x reader #house m.d #imagine #james wilson #house x reader #daughter!reader

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