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obaex · 7 months

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(not) my girl - rafe cameron

summary: if rafe cameron is so sure he doesn't need to be seen with you at midsummers, you are more than happy to oblige (or) the time you drove rafe insane with jealousy.

word count: 3.4k

a/n: inspired by this post by the sweet @writingsbychlo ♡

You were curled up on Rafe’s lap, head resting on his shoulder with his arms circled around you and his fingers mindlessly tracing patterns on your thigh as he talked with his friends around the firepit in his backyard.

You had been hooking up for a few months and recently you felt like you were right on the cusp of him asking you to make things official, exclusive. You were spending nearly every night together and every time he asked to talk or wanted to hang out you got your hopes up that this would be the time he brought it up, only to be crushed over and over again.

Deep down, you knew how Rafe felt. People who were ‘just hooking up’ didn’t beg you to stay every morning, didn’t make room in their dresser for you, didn’t wake you up with featherlight kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, face breaking into a ridiculous smile when your eyes fluttered open to find his drinking you in, they didn’t call you during a panic attack after fighting with their dad, pleading to hear your voice as the only thing that would calm them down. No, you were pretty sure you knew exactly how this boy felt, but you wanted him to acknowledge it. You ached to hear him say with pride ‘that’s my girl’, to mark you as his own.

Your eyes flitted across the fire to your best friend Olivia who wiggled her eyebrows at the sight of you and Rafe together, all too aware of the situationship you were in and how badly you wanted him. You blushed and rolled your eyes back at her, just trying to enjoy this small moment where he showed his affection for you in front of other people. She winked at you before interrupting the conversation.

“Sooo, who is everyone taking to Midsummers?”

You shot her a look that screamed what the hell are you doing!? You were still holding out hope that Rafe was going to ask you, even though it was less than a week away. Maybe he had an elaborate, last-minute surprise planned?

“Feel pretty good about my date” Kelce murmured, pressing a kiss to Olivia’s cheek as she giggled. “What about you Top, still intent on macking on Rafe’s sister?” he asked. Topper threw an empty beer can at him as everyone laughed.

“I don’t know why we even bother with dates” Rafe said. “We’re just gonna dick around together all night anyway, there’s no point.” He took a swig of his beer without meeting your gaze. You felt your cheeks warm in embarrassment and a painful ache in your throat as you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spring forward. You met Olivia’s gaze again and she nodded encouragingly towards Rafe.

“W-what about me, Cameron?” you asked, trying to mask your feelings, to sound chill as you poked him in the side.

He looked at you sweetly, “C’mon and say what when my dad asks about you? ‘Hey dad, here’s the girl I’ve been sneaking through the back door every night and smashing while you and Rose are three doors down? Hard pass.” He laughed, focusing back on his beer and his friends as you felt his hand slide off your leg.

You allowed yourself to be genuinely upset for three days.

You didn’t sleep at Tanneyhill for the first time in months, you didn’t even answer his texts which grew increasingly more insistent the more you ignored them. You stayed home, you cried, and you contemplated what the fuck you were doing with your life. Was that really all you were to him – just someone he was sneaking around with? Did you somehow become that girl, too naïve and too stupid to see that she wasn’t and would never be anything more than a hookup?

You thought about the way Rafe reached for you and held you in his sleep, the way his hands ghosted over your body, the things he’d whisper in your ear, the times you’d ridden shotgun in his truck or he’d taken you to his favorite spot on the beach… Your heart was so sure about him, but your head throbbed with the echo of his words.

You and Olivia talked incessantly about it, dissecting everything he’d said. “Maybe he just needs a little push, a little… motivation?” she suggested, and the more you talked about it, the more you realized she was right.

If Rafe Cameron was so sure he didn’t need to be seen with you at Midsummers, you were more than happy to oblige.

The last of the hot summer sun was settling over the ocean as you climbed the front steps of the Island Club in daring three-inch heels; the added height gave your figure a perfect sway that simply begged people to watch you as you walked by. Your dress had a thigh-high slit, open back, and was the perfect color for your skin tone, illuminating you; the neckline was devilishly tantalizing, giving the desired effect of drawing all eyes to the dazzling diamond pendant that reflected the setting sun.

Rafe heard you before he saw you; rather, he heard a sea of murmurs rippling through the crowd which drew his attention to the doors just as you walked through by yourself, essentially announcing to the island that you were alone for the night.

“Geezus” he heard Topper mutter under his breath as he took you in. Normally, he would have known better and normally Rafe would have put his head through a wall for glaring at you the way he was, but even though his fists clenched in response and he wanted to turn and say something to him, he simply couldn’t take his eyes off of you; “Geezus” didn’t even begin to cover it.

You were always undeniably beautiful to Rafe: when you wore his oversized sweatshirt around the fire pit, when you were makeup-less in your wet bikini at the beach, and especially when you were wearing next to nothing tangled up in his limbs and his soft sheets, but the dress you had on, the way your hair shone in the last rays of the sun, the way you were positively radiating had his pulse throbbing in his neck, his adam’s apple bobbing and his palms sweating. Fuck, I am so happy she’s mine he thought to himself, smiling and moving to walk towards you as your eyes met his across the crowd.

You were glowing at him and sent him a discreet smile as you greeted people and made your way in his direction. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on you, to have you at his side so everyone knew you were his. You approached your friends, dropping a kiss on Topper and Kelce’s cheeks before doing the same to Rafe. You made to move past him quickly, intent on talking to Olivia when he grabbed your hand.

“Hey, hold up you-you look…” he started to say, trying and struggling to find the words to capture the way his heart was pounding in his chest.

Your wide eyes met his expectantly and just when he opened his mouth to speak, they flitted over his shoulder.

“Oh! Sorry, Rafey! Just saw someone I want to catch up with, I’ll see you later” and without another word you walked away, leaving Rafe Cameron, the King of Kildare staring and stuttering after you.

You were walking away from him? he thought. You had seemed so adamant about this whole Midsummers thing, dropping hints about going together and now here he was, practically ready to get down on one knee at the sight of you, and you were walking away from him? He was speechless. He turned to watch you go… right into the arms of another man. He looked to be about your age, the same height and a similar build as Rafe, because of course Rafe was sizing him up, how could he not? This guy had his paws all over his girl. And then, after a moment’s realization, he thought darkly, she’s not your girl…

You had greeted this guy with a huge hug, and he’d nearly lifted you off the ground, now he had your full attention and you were laughing at something he said, the most sweet and perfect sound that Rafe wanted only for himself.

As everyone took their seat for dinner, you intentionally positioned yourself across the table from Rafe. The slight of not sitting next to him where he could run his fingers up your thigh or tangle them in your own left him fidgeting instead, buttoning and unbuttoning his jacket and swirling his drink. What the fuck did I used to do with my hands? he thought angrily.

You paid him no mind, instead, leaning forward on your elbows and toying with the diamond pendant around your neck, fingering it, twirling it and sliding it back and forth on its chain.

“Holy DIAMOND, girl!” Olivia said as she took note of your necklace and leaned over to get a closer look. “Is it new, where is it from?” her eyes shot from you to Rafe and back again.

He glared at you both over the rim of his glass as he took a deep gulp, trying to act unphased but also extremely curious to hear your answer knowing damn well it wasn’t from him.

Your eyes flitted to Rafe briefly before you leaned towards Olivia, lowering your voice, but not so low that he couldn’t hear you. “It was… a gift from… someone special” you said winking conspiratorially at her.

Rafe choked on his drink just as someone was standing up at the front of the crowd to make a speech, shifting everyone’s attention and interrupting the slew of words that nearly poured out of his mouth.

Who the fuck on Kildare fucking Island was buying his girl jewelry? he thought. And then, again, he reminded himself, she’s not your girl… the thought making his whole body tense, rigid and taught in anger and frustration.

For the next 20 minutes, all he could do was stare at you as you twiddled that ridiculous necklace in your fingers, imagining what it would be like to rip it off of you and replace it with something twice as nice. He was mentally calculating how much he would spend and how quickly he could get it when JJ Maybank passed by their table. Rafe had a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue until he watched JJ do a double take at you and stop in his tracks.

Don’t do it, Maybank, Rafe thought. Don’t you dare do it.

He watched JJ eye you and the distance between you and Rafe and, deeming it safe, peddled back, pulling a glass of champagne off his tray and handing it to you with a flourish. He knelt down next to your seat and when you turned to talk to him, it left JJ perfectly eye level with your cleavage. He was whispering something to you and you rested your hand on his bicep as you leaned forward to hear him. Rafe could see you blushing, and he watched Maybank take in every greedy eyeful of you. Rafe stood up so abruptly, it knocked his chair over and rattled the plates on the table. Everyone looked up at him, including you, and for the first time that night he had your full attention as your eyes widened at his reaction.

“YN, inside, let’s go” he said simply, walking to your side of the table.

You raised an eyebrow at him and his demanding tone.

“And Maybank if you don’t stop staring at her tits, I will put your face through this table.”

JJ quickly stood up and backed away with his hands raised in surrender as Rafe approached you.

“Rafe we were just—” you started.

“— Inside. Now” he said, taking you forcefully by the arm and leading you inside and into the locker room.

“Rafe! Come on! Stop it! I want to spend the night with my friends, I don’t know what you possibly have to be mad at” you said in resistance.

And that was the very last straw for him.

“WHAT I HAVE TO BE MAD AT?!” he said, incredulous, nearly shouting. “Where do I even begin with you!? You blow me off all week, then you waltz in here looking like an absolute bombshell, wearing next to nothing – I swear to God, I’ve seen you in bikinis with more material - every guy here is leering at you. Then you’re talking to that jackass who had his hands all over you…” he said, exasperated.

At this point he was pacing, his voice continuing to rise in anger and frustration. “…And then Maybank?! Maybank of all people?! He was flirting with you right in front of me. Was it to make me jealous? Is that what this is all about? Because I’m about to lose my fucking mind YN” he said running his hands through his hair, giving you sick pleasure knowing it took him probably an hour to style it. A surprised if not amused look rested on your face as you continued to twirl your necklace in your fingers.

“And who the fuck gave you that” he pointed accusingly at the diamond in your hand, not giving you a single second to respond, “No. Absolutely not. Take it off. Right now” he said, walking briskly towards you in an effort to do it himself.

You held out a hand to stop him.

“I don’t know what the big deal is Rafe” you said innocently. “What difference does it make? I’m just the girl you’re sneaking through your back door every night to smash” you shrugged, your eyes burning at him.

His eyes widened as he heard his own words on your lips.

“No, that’s – that’s not – I didn’t mean” he stuttered.

You gave him a vicious look as you watched the gears turn in his head and he tried to string a sentence together.

“Look, I didn’t mean it like that – I shouldn’t have – what I meant was – ahh, fuck it” he said, taking a step forward and closing the distance between you in an instant, one hand holding your face firmly as he pushed you against the lockers and the other coming to rest on the wall beside you, caging you in against him as he pressed his lips bruisingly to yours, devouring you, just like he’d wanted to do all night.

You wanted to stay strong, to argue, to tell him he wasn’t going to win you over like this. But he was. He so so was as he deepened the kiss almost instantly and the pad of his thumb ran across your cheek sending a shiver through your body. When he finally felt you relent and kiss him back, winding your arms around his neck and pulling yourself flush to him he let out a small groan that almost made you forget the whole point of tonight. Almost.

You pulled back, leaving not even an inch between you. The feeling of you kissing him had calmed him down significantly. His breathing had slowed but his cheeks were still flushed and his hair was mussed. He lingered there, his nose brushing yours as he stroked your cheek.

“You’re my girl” he whispered finally.

“Are you asking or telling?” you whispered back.

“Do I really need to ask, princess?” he said, meeting your gaze with his own.

You raised an eyebrow at him threateningly.

He rolled his eyes and said in a sigh, “Be mine?”

You bit your bottom lip and pretended to think about it. “Gosh, I don’t know” you said, pressing a slow kiss to his lips “M’might have to think about it” you said, pressing another kiss there, lingering longer “Mm’might need some convincing” you said, kissing him again and running your hands up his chest.

His voice was low but steady, “I will take you home right now and convince you as many times as you need me to” he said, kissing you back through a smile.

“Deal” you replied sweetly.

You moved to leave but he didn’t let you go and when you met his gaze, his brow was furrowed, his eyes searching yours. “I am serious though, about this, about you” he said. “I’m sorry I fucked up.” He looked uncharacteristically bashful, unsure even. “Really, are you mine?” he whispered.

“Yes, Rafe,” you said as your heart fluttered in your chest “All yours.”

He smiled stupidly, so far gone for you as he kissed you again. You were completely lost in the moment until he muttered against you, “Then please for the love of God will you take that necklace off and tell me who in the hell thought they could buy you something like that?”

You met his eyes strongly, the last embers of your pain crackling there.

“No” you said simply, continuing quickly when he tried to interrupt you. “I’m going to keep it and wear it whenever I damn well please to remind you of what you have and what you sure as hell want don’t want to lose.”

He looked genuinely shocked to hear you challenge him like that and you could see a tic in his jaw as he worked it back and forth in anger.

“I… hate that” he growled. “What if I buy you something nicer?”

You shrugged noncommittally and he shook his head at you. “Fine, let’s get out of here, that dress is killing me and I have a lot of convincing I want to do to you right now.” You giggled as he grabbed your hand and led you back outside, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

When you rejoined the party there were a few murmurs and glances as you hung off his arm. Were you imagining it, or was he taking the long way back to your table, intentionally parading you around the patio and staring daggers at anyone whose gaze lingered too long? Being seen together at Midsummers was basically shouting from the rooftops that you were official. You were glowing, he was too. You said goodbye to your friends and within minutes you were in his truck headed back to Tanneyhill, his hand rubbing circles higher and higher on your thigh, your fingers in his hair.

He threw the car in park and scooped you over his shoulder, carrying you all the way upstairs like that, which had you shrieking in delight. He didn’t set you down until you were in his room and he kissed you feverishly, his hands cupping your face, before his fingers traced your neck, nearing your necklace.

“Rafe” you muttered against his lips, a warning.

“Just tell me who” he muttered back, unable to let it go and kissing you deeper in the hopes of convincing you. “I’m already gonna to buy you a new one, you’ll never wear this again, but I need to know. Can’t stop thinking about someone else with their hands on you” he said as he guided you backwards towards his bed, pushing you gently onto his comforter and crawling on top of you.

“I don’t like it. I do not fucking like it” he growled against your lips. Under his anger, you detected a hint of vulnerability and you broke your kiss just long enough to look into his eyes, which gazed longingly at you as they searched your face. Perhaps you had tortured this poor boy enough.

You sighed, relenting.

“Olivia” you said.

He looked at you, completely confused for only a moment before the realization dawned on his face and he hung his head.

“There isn’t anyone else” he said in equal parts relief, frustration and embarrassment.

You shook your head at him.

“God I’m so fucking stupid” he said.

You giggled before reaching behind your neck to unclasp the necklace and toss it on his bedside table.

He looked at you with heat and tenderness, “I’m sorry that’s what it took for me to get my shit together. I wish it all happened differently, but I don’t regret it. You’re it for me, YN, no one else.”

He placed a kiss beneath your ear, to your throat, to your bare collarbone. “My girl” he whispered against your skin, enjoying how it felt on his tongue and the sound of your sweet laughter in response.

taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer, @jjsbank444

#rafe cameron #obx rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #outerbanks rafe #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #obx fanfiction

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emmafrostyyy · 11 months

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y'all sleeping on Astarion/Lae'zel bc this moment is so...the way the flippant demeanor drops and he doesn't hesitate to call her out for sticking with her version of Cazador like their relationship is so underrated fr...

sitting down writing this bullshit like let me peel it like an onion a bit and elaborate why this pairing is fascinating to me

It's really interesting how during the most cathartic, life-altering moment in Astarion's questline, the reactions of the other companions are more about the moral wrongness/guilt of sacrificing innocent lives. Lae'zel doesn't do that and instead relates to his hurt.

She knows what's he's feeling, the lack of control, the unfairness of being powerless for too long. This is a woman who just found out her entire life purpose was built on lies, discarded and hunted by her own people after outliving her usefulness, and groomed to basically die for an insane power-hungry lich queen. She knows all too well that power isn't always real freedom. Her first instinct is to empathize with Astarion to steer him away from his hate and resentment.

Astarion/Lae'zel is so interesting to me because they're such a classic "can we make each other worse or make a better person out of the other?".

They both have genuine appreciation for violence and respect each other's ruthlessness. Astarion was used as a weapon of seduction while Lae'zel was of warfare. Sex with people is meaningless and not real intimacy for them, and while both have little understanding/experience of interpersonal relationships beyond the physical, they still feel and love very deeply. They have no frame of reference for things like friendship and warmth, but they badly want all of that and more, even if they don't know it yet.

In-game they can sleep with each other, which is basically the foundation of the normal Tav/Astarion romance. Lae'zel saw him during combat and got horny, who knows. Astarion who's used to luring people with his charms, takes up Lae'zel's blunt offer because she's a strong hardened warrior that can provide protection and be a worthy ally, and he doesn't know how to say no. Navigating the complications between one who wants to be seen beyond as a sex object, and one who comes from a totally alien culture with no concept of love/family/connections and only sex is honestly really compelling to me. It's a transactional, mutually beneficial thing with no emotional expectations. Once you get past the skeevy rockiness of their early relationship, I really like the idea of them slowly seeing something past the exterior and realizing they may have harshly misjudged the other, an unspoken friendship blooms, and in comes the realization that they are essentially loners longing for kindness and a comforting touch in the most desperate of situations.

Lae'zel is prideful, direct, has no sense of courtship talk, and doesn't hold back her thoughts the slightest--she's not sweet/agreeable and what you see is really what you get, which I imagine would be disarming for Astarion who's used to vacuous flattery and has difficulty trusting others. But she's also insanely protective, passionate, loyal, and an initiator-- every romance scene is triggered by her first and she's always showing effort towards her relationships, which would mesh well with Astarion who does need someone to nudge him.

She doesn't purposely suppress her feelings, she's just simply at loss at how to express them sometimes due to her wildly different upbringing. She stops the sparring match you agree to and an easy vulnerability slips instantly out of her: "I don't want to hurt you. I want to protect you, and for you to protect me." and "Thus far I've taunted you, devoured you, battled you. Now I want more than anything to soothe you." are romantic as fuck and Astarion of all people really needs to hear that tbh.

Astarion is also someone who struggles with reinforcing his boundaries, and a key theme in Lae'zel's romance is that she encourages and wants you to challenge her and learn to stand your ground. It's not gentlest method, but hey, relationships are about having to make an effort to learn each other's language.

I think he also would take pleasure "educating her on the matters of Fay-run" (I believe there's a whole banter with him teasing her and teaching her pet names) and would get a kick out of coaxing Lae'zel out of her shell with her shyness at showing public affection, and making her blush. Also it simply would be fucking funny to see Astarion who's used to easy seduction, trying to pass a persuasion check just to get a smooch and generally having to work to earn regular kisses from Lae'zel lmfaooo

Lae'zel also initially struggles to see her chains as chains. When she learns about Vlaakith's betrayal, she copes instantly through denial and shuts it down. Astarion is NOT having it and calls her out, he knows her well enough to recognize that she would value blunt honesty above all.

I imagine he also despises her lack of self-preservation, the way her entire identity is tied to duty and being in service of others, and doesn't understand her desire to still help/liberate the people that want her dead and are hunting her down. He wants to make this duty-bound soldier realize that looking out for herself, and putting herself first may not be the worst thing in the world.

They're so similar to each other but are also polar opposites in some ways that make a more equal, balanced romance I think. It's not a simple, one-sided, feel-good "she/he can fix her/him" fantasy because both of them have to earn each other's love, actually cut through the other's flaws, and actively motivate each other to be better versions of themselves.

They're not at all the other's ideal guiding hand. It's rough, jagged, and imperfect, but that's how healing goes. It's so far from being the healthiest relationship -- but even if their belief systems differ, their moral compass does often align. I imagine it's a slight relief for them to have a partner where there would be less shame and judgment when they expectedly, occasionally slip up and fall into their bad habits.

Also, man, the "You showed me the betweens and beyonds. Beyond war and peace, beyond passion and obsession, most importantly, you showed me freedom.", "First you were my wound, now you were my cure.", "But you saw something else in me - someone else I could be. Someone who could break the cycle of power and terror that started centuries ago.." lines really hit hard when applied to them.

Of course, they can also make each other worse, feed into the other's negative traits that will bring out the worst part of themselves. It's this duality of their pairing that is very interesting to explore, the way it can steer in either direction because it's an intense, fraught relationship at its core.

#when he gets called by omeluum “child of the dark” and her “child of the stars” like yeah..the squid man is being literal but he Gets It fr.#lae'zel #astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 meta #astarion ancunin #astarion x lae'zel #lae'zel x astarion #the rarest of rarepairs they dont even got a ship name...this is so tragique we need to discuss the pathos and potential of this pairing #bg3 lae'zel #bg3 astarion #also im a sucker for stoic knight/court darling trope and whatever variations of it yeah #bloodbruise

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kittyhui · 3 months

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woozi baby fever + texts

woozi x afab! reader

- jihoon never thought he would have baby fever

- tbh he didnt even think he wanted kids; being so busy with work anyways

- he definitely changed after meeting you though

- after dating for more than 6 months, he’ll be thinking about marriage and children hopeless romantic ugh

- after marriage or a few years of dating, his baby fever goes through the roof

- if he sees you with a baby or a small child, he will practically keel over with the thought of you with his child

- he acts like he hates children but he stays up at night thinking about you pregnant with his baby

- He feels insane when he makes lullabies instead of demos for his group. He has a folder named ‘for FC’ (for future child) full of songs for his non existent baby and he avoids any questions from his members and you when asked who FC is.

- Whenever he sees dad’s with their children he dies inside. He imagines that being him and him taking his baby out for a walk and taking them to his studio, playing them music

- one day, he hit his breaking point. He was hanging out with seungcheol and hoshi and they were talking about their babies (kkuma and latte LMAO) and how they were thinking of buying them cute winter doggy jackets and sweaters. they showed him picture after picture of clothes for their ‘babies’, sending his mind into overdrive. He wanted a baby. He wanted to buy his baby cute clothes and spoil them the way he spoils you. He didn’t just want it. He needed it.

- The moment he came home you could tell something was up. Sometimes jihoon would be a bit out of it, usually because of work and lyrics. This was different though. He was clinging to you unusually, his head resting on your stomach and his hands gripping your waist soft but firmly, not wanting to hurt you yet not wanting to let you go. He refused to talk whenever you asked what was wrong and would just blush deeper and deeper

- “Jihoon.” You finally say, tired of him evading your questions. Your stern voice makes him lift him head to look at you. “Is something going on? You’re acting strange today?” you were beyond concerned now as his ears turn a deep red and his eyes look away from yours.

- “I was with cheol and soon earlier…” he trails off nervously, “and I realized that I want a child with you. So badly. I’ve just been thinking about filling you up and I just want you to have my kid so badly. I’d take care of her so well, spoil both of you to death…” he cuts himself off, feeling embarrassed seeing your shocked face.

- “She?” is the first thing you say, smiling at him. jihoon quirks his head to the side confused, “you said, you’d take care of her so well. What if it’s a boy, hoonie?” you giggle at him, before leaning in to kiss jihoon’s cheek.

- “Boy or girl, id take care of them” he looks you in the eyes, “promise”

- You giggle at his seriousness, nodding at him. “Let’s have a baby then, ji” his smile is so wide it hurt, kissing you hard.

- “Thank you, baby. Thank you...”

- Now, after you get pregnant.. he’s actually insane.

- He tried to act calm and collected but if you try and carry anything heavier than your phone, he will carry it for you.

- He calls you every 40 minutes when he has schedules, asking you if he needs to come home early or if you need anything

- He bought a crib, walker, and a changing board for his studio as well as for your home. He spares no expense

- The moment you start showing, he will have his head on your stomach 24/7.

- “I felt them kick!” “Hoonie, I’m only 13 weeks, I don’t think the baby’s kicking” he doesn’t believe you btw

- Now, he will finally show you his ‘for FC’ folder, playing the songs in his studio for you and the baby to listen to

- He is always worried once you get close to your due date, convincing his company to put him on hiatus and work from home producing songs until the baby is born.

- “I’ll be fine, jihoon. The guys need you” “pretty, you are going to have a baby any minute now. They understand that you need me more.”

a/n: this is so funny cuz i actually dont want kids but woozi baby fever is so real argue with a wall

#woozi #seventeen #woozi x reader #lee jihoon #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #woozi drabble #woozi headcanons #woozi texts #svt x reader

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aemnd · 6 months

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step bro rafe is the besttt🤭

𝓇.cameron. ┆ sweet, sweet.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ more icky stepbro!rafe cus y'all seemed to love him . <3

"you like this, don't ya', kid?" rafe questions, his tone of voice low and deep, with that nasally, rich boy drawl that drives you insane, and sometimes, you just couldn't stand to be around him, knowing he has you under his spell, his control.

you give him a small, gentle nod of your head, breath hitching and heart thumping wildly, feeling your stepbrother's calloused fingertips trail over the wet, glossy slit of your pussy, before gently circling your little clit.

"raaafe," you mewl softly, pawing at his clothed chest, and it wasn't even fair, he still had all of his clothes on and you were practically nude, easily convinced by your older stepbrother to strip off your bottom clothes, to let him see your princess parts.

"shhhh," he hums, still toying with your clit, before easily sliding down and slipping two of his long, nimble fingers into your quivering little fuckhole, making you gasp and clench, more of your sweet pussy juices easily flowing out, dripping down rafe's fingers and soaking them.

rafe laughs, then smirks lazily. "see? told you it'd feel good—just gotta trust me from now on, a'ight?" he tells you, moving to lean down slightly to murmur into your ear, inhaling the sweet, feminine scent of your hair products—something fruity and sweet, just perfectly you.

"you hear me, baby?" rafe drawls lowly, like you're some dumb, little spoiled brat, beginning to pump both of his fingers in and out, in and out, in and out, driving you delirious with pleasure, and fuck, you need him, you need him now—desperately.

"please... please, rafe, n-need you," you beg so sweetly, and rafe smiles wolfishly, his cock already rock hard and being restricted by his pants, but he doesn't mind, not right now at least, not when he is fingering his little baby stepsister.

"you gonna come for me, pretty girl?" rafe purrs, nipping at your earlobe, before trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your delicate neck, nipping and sucking with every other kiss, wanting to mark you, to claim you, to show everyone that you belong to him.

obediently, you nod, shaky and misty eyed, and if rafe didn't know you any better, he'd say you were about to burst into tears, which wasn't uncommon for you, but he knows that look—that look when you're on the verge of coming for him, and oh, how badly he wants to see you cream all over his fingers, his face, and especially his cock.

abruptly, rafe pulls his hand away, carelessly wiping the glossy wetness from your sweet little cunt across your inner thigh, humming at the cute pout that immediately takes over your pretty, scrunched up face, crying out like a newborn kitten.

"it's alright, baby, we got all the time in the world for that," rafe tells you with a light chuckle, a small, teasing smile curling on his lips, knowing you want him just as much as he wants you, and he can't help the way his lust-blown eyes wander down, gazing intensely at your sloppy, exposed cunt fully on display, just for him and only him, so wet and swollen from just the simplest touches of his deft fingers.

"b-but i want− want t-to..." you trail off shyly, cheeks hot and little nipples peaking through your thin baby-tee, all due to the arousal rafe made you feel.

rafe sighs, easily slipping off of his bed and walking over to the full length mirror, swiftly smoothing down his fancy polo shirt, though his eyes are still focused on you through the mirror, just like they always are focused on you—wherever you are, rafe's eyes will always follow.

"don't worry so much, kid," rafe says nonchalantly, spinning on his heel and walking back over to where you're sitting at the edge of his bed, pouty and arms crossed over your perky chest, covering those pretty little nipples he loves to suck on.

"dad will eat your sweet little pussy as soon as he returns from conducting his business with barry, alright?" he explains slowly, promising you with a sweet, nasty kiss full of teeth and tongue for several minutes too long, but rafe doesn't give a fuck—and then, he's pulling back and watching you grow all doe-eyed and smiling dreamily, making him reach out and firmly grasp your soft, unblemished cheek, "now, be a good girl for me until i get back—a'ight, kid?"

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calliopesdiary · 5 months

Text

escapism.

MINORS DNI - 18+ NSFW

band!poly!marauders x leadsinger!fem!reader

wc: 1.2k

warnings: this fic contains: smut, punishing kink, degrading kink, finger fucking, manhandling, being tied up, daddy kink

summary: when you and the boys get into a slight disagreement, during one of your shows you sing a song you KNOW they don't like you singing. and lets just say you get a... stern talking to.

contents: fem leadsinger!reader, i don't know how to write smut..., bassist!remus, drummer.james, guitarist!sirius, cussing

a/n: as i've implied previously this is my first attempt at writing smut, so Imk if its good!!

YOU KNEW THIS WOULD END BADLY... your boys were going to be pissed at you, but somehow you couldn't find it in your heart to feel guilty or bad. they hurt your feelings, so you'd just hurt them back.

it was certainly not the right way to go through this.

but there was something so thrilling about it, about singing this song. up on stage. with thousands of people to see. and you could bask in the glory of pissing off your boyfriends.

was it really your fault? the feminine urge to sing this song was overwhelming and... let's just say you had totally recorded it behind their backs. when you first showed Remus the lyrics he was skeptical.

"Love, I admire the tempo but don't you think it's a little too dirty for our genre?" You knew he was probably just jealous about you saying those kinds of words for everyone in the world to hear.

James was next, and James could be blunt.

"I adore the intro, sweetheart. but I don't like you talking that way unless its with us." you remember him shrugging.

Sirius, ohh god, Sirius.

"No."

"Why-"

"I'm not letting you play that at a show.

bingo, they were jealous of the lyrics they were hearing.

so when you had that argument, you knew this was the perfect way at getting them back.

the show started out as usual, playing the normal set. but not making eye contact with your boys.

you set up a track before you went on.

"You guys can leave the stage now." you looked up at James.

"Aren't you going to leave aswell? your body needs rest-"

"I'm fine, I had coffee." You snarked, stepping back onstage. the crowd cheering for your return.

"Alllright... this last song- honestly isn't pg at all and i'm probably going to get murdered for this but-"

the track starts, the boys can hear it from backstage. Sirius is pissed, sexually.

"sleezin' and teasin', i'm sittin' on him-"

"all of my diamonds are drippin' on him."

"i met him at the bar- it was 12 or somethin'"

"i ordered two more wines cause tonight i want em'"

"that bitch-" Sirius slurs.

"a little context- if you care to listen."

"just a heartbroke-bitch, high-heels six-inch."

"in the back of the nightclub, sippin' champagne."

you had done it, sang the whole song with the audience going absolutely insane. and your boyfriends were pissed to say the least.

after you had finished, you wandered off stage when you got lectured.

“WHAT THE FUCK was that??” Sirius barked, and you slowly turned to face him.

“it’s my choice was i sing.” you scoffed, trying to walk away until James’ iron grip locked around her wrist.

“you do not get to walk away, y/n.”

“and?”

“since when do you not care what we think?” Remus inquired, though he couldn’t really resist the amusement of the stunt his girlfriend had just pulled.

“since i decided that i didn’t give a fuck on what you blokes think about what i sing in public just because you’re jealous.”

oh yeah, you fucked up.

all the boys had to do was give eachother a look and James started pulling you along to the hotel you had been staying at.

“guys—“

“shut up, y/n.”

you rolled your eyes.

“you know, we can punish you right here right now for all of london to see if you keep this shit up.” Sirius hissed.

“i—“

“shh..” Remus’ nimble fingers and palm locked around your lips for the remainder of the walk.

you peered around at your surroundings and stumbled uncomfortably in your heels.

and you severely wished your panties werent seriously (haha, get it?) soaked.

once you arrived at the hotel and got into your room, you knew it was over.

a quick shove onto the bed and the rummaging through a suitcase was all you needed.

“g-guys let’s talk about this—“

you attempted to reason with them, while you wanted it (you couldn’t ignore the ache between your thighs).

“you disobeyed us, so this is what you get.”

James tugged the tough rope around your wrists and hung them above your head on the bedpost above you.

“now, tell me, y/n. if you really don’t want this, then why are your panties so wet?”

Remus asked innocently, leaving you to become a stuttering mess.

“i—… erm.. it’s—“

“that’s what i thought.”

Remus’ cold and scarred fingers wrapped around the waist band of your panties and tugged them down your legs.

“so fucking wet for us, puppy.”

he commented, before engulfing two of his fingers into your wetness.

you shuttered, your head thrown back in a pleasured manor.

“you like this, huh?” James ran his lovely fingers through your hair and tugged gently.

“s-stop…” you squirmed hopelessly, and all Sirius could do was pin you down.

“we’re just helping you learn a lesson, pup.”

“this’ll teach you not to disobey us, understand?”

you couldn’t answer, not since Remus ducked down and his lips locked around your dripping clit, sucking on it selfishly.

“Siri asked you a question, puppy.” James reminded cruelly.

“y-yes i- i understand—“

“good.”

he was quick to remove your shirt and bra, as he brushed his thumb against your sensitive nipple.

“ohfuckk— R-Remus f-fuck..” he very much enjoyed the sound of you moaning his name.

“let it out, puppy.” James stroked your restrained arm.

Remus had his hand in his trousers, his damp fingers wrapped around his hardened cock.

he stood up, his hair disheveled. he tugged his trousers down and took out his erect member.

“R-Remus..” you wished you could say that you didn’t want it.

“come on, puppy. you can take me.”

“can you take Moony, babes?” Sirius rested his chin against your thigh.

“y-yes..”

“good girl…”

Remus fucked into you thoroughly, by the time an hour had gone by you weren’t even sure how many orgasms you had in that time.

They took turns, pounding into you with their cocks.

“you’re such a slut for us, puppy.” Sirius stated, cupping your ass as he kept a nice rhythm.

he loved the feeling of your walls clenching in onto him.

“d-daddy…” you whimpered, your tiny little sobs earned nothing but cruelty.

“you’re just a stupid slut, isn’t that right?” James went back to sucking on your thighs, littering marks all over.

once Sirius was done that had been three rounds for each of them, and you had fallen so deep into your subspace.

obviously having three amazing boyfriends, they had amazing aftercare.

you practically collapsed onto James, feeling utterly helpless. Sirius stroked your hair gently.

“did we go to hard, puppy?” Remus caressed your tear-stained cheek.

“n-no i-im sorry…”

“y’just gotta listen sometimes, princess.” James kissed your forehead lovingly.

“we were a bit jealous.” Sirius admitted sheepishly, tucking some of your hair out of your face.

“everything hurts.” you groaned, leaving James to pull you into his lap.

“would you like a bath, princess?”

you nodded tiredly, your eyes still glossy.

once you were cleaned up, you fell asleep quickly. swaddled between Remus and James with Sirius’ iron grip locked around James’ waist.

Your head rested on Remus’ chest, falling asleep to the lovely rising and falling of his chest.

so… was it worth it?

yes, yes it was.

#marauders era #fem!reader #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #marauders #poly!marauders x reader #fanfiction #marauders smut #james potter x reader'#james potter smut #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut #sirius black x reader #sirius black smut

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fqiryspit · 2 years

Text

FOOTBALL PLAYER EREN HEADCANONS

eren x fem!reader

cw: eren is head over heels for you, crazy fangirls, death threats, eren fucking you, you sucking him, etc etc

you've been in a relationship with eren before his hair was that long and when he stumbled nervously over everything.

he still looks back and cringes, wondering why you wanted to date him

you two have been lifelong friends and once you started your relationship things really were perfect.

eren's football career really took off in college, and he got a lot more attention from the girls on campus rather than old men.

soon he and his team were absolutely famous and you were so excited for him -and incredibly grateful your relationship was swiped under the rug during that time. he had millions of fan girls posting fics and edits of him daily, it was insane.

you asked him to not speak on your relationship -because he got those questions a lot so he just responds with a simple "I'm happy" when they get asked

he wants to -so badly- show you off. to laugh at all his annoying fan girls and bring you out, but, he respects your decision.

after his games, he is absolutely wrecked. he flops down onto the bed and you climb on top of him and start massaging his scalp and he just moans into the sheets

"did you have fun?"

"how was I supposed to have fun when you weren't there?" he says, needy as ever

"errreeen I'm not gonna be able to go that far for every game" you huff

and this man loves to spoil you. designer bags out of the blue, wait, did you just eye that coat? no worries, he's just gonna purchase that really quickly.

eren truly truly loves you, he knows he is gonna marry you, it's just a fact.

he melts when he is with you, always needing to hold you in some way and just have you near.

he fanaticizes about your wedding and babies with you late at night or when he's balls deep in you

"fuck, can't wait to fill you up with my babies, gonna make you a mommy"

and by the way, after a game. a win or a loss, he's fucking you.

if he won, he's letting his victory in your pussy, ramming into you over and over while your legs bend in abnormal positions every two seconds while he babbles about how he couldn't get his mind off you the whole time

if he lost...oh man. he's taking all that anger out on you. it goes on for hours until he is finally drained and calm while you lay there full of his cum.

before a conference, you give him a "good luck suck" because he hates going to them, and this makes him feel a lot better <3

his fans are crazy, and once they caught wind of your relationship, all hell broke loose.

a photo came to light of eren simply hugging you. you know how careful he is with that stuff so you hid it from him, knowing he rarely goes on social media it should be a breeze, right?

you had your knees up to your chest and a twisted brow on, reading through the death threats and horrible comments made about your appearance.

you're an idiot for not privating your account in time, they found you and are coming in full swing.

you felt your stomach sink, you shouldn't let them get to you, but they're pointing out insecurities you've been trying to bury

"you okay?"

you look up to see eren, in the doorway with a concerned look all over his face. you turn off your phone and put a smile on

"yeah, just stupid stuff" you chuckle uncomfortably. he walks over and climbs onto the bed

"what happened?" "nothing, eren"

he looked at you for a couple more seconds, giving you the option to tell him what was going on. then his eyes slowly traveled to your phone you tossed across the bed. you reached for it franticly but he got it in time and as you yelled out his name he unlocked it with his face

everything on his face just dropped in an instant, he read through message after message about people wishing you dead, saying not-so-nice things about your looks, and more.

he asked when this started while he kept staring into the phone, then asked why you didn't tell him.

"I knew it would worry you, so I just-" "you need to tell me these things" he reached over to grab his phone as he started typing, you looked over to see him making a twitter post and you freaked

"don't say anything about it!" you plead, but it was too late, he made a simple post yelling at his 'fans' and then turned his phone off and held you

"please don't worry about those stupid messages"

in all, footballplayer!eren is the man of your dreams, and he hopes you haven't found the ring box in his sock drawer yet. <3

an: love him sm <3

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love-byers · 3 months

Text

(warning: long)

we should talk more about mikes choice of words in the rink o mania fight, or rather the writers choice of words

"You basically sabotaged the whole day!!"

sabotage

in case you need a reminder of what sabotage means

deliberately destroy, damage, or obstruct

mike is not just saying will was being a douche for moping, rolling his eyes, and barely talking. he's saying wills a douche because he's doing it on purpose. not even just on purpose either, he's saying will planned this. will wanted to ruin the day. mike thinks will was out to get him by withholding his friendship. obviously will wasn't doing any of this, he just moped because he felt brushed off by mike and was ignored (or so he thought).

that kind of behavior, thinking the consequences of his own actions are a planned attack against him, is very consistent with the way he acted in s3 when el dumped him and he blamed it on max.

we can connect this directly to mike's apology where he calls himself a self-pitying idiot. the self-pity is mike allowing himself to believe it's not his fault that his day sucked, that it's not his fault will is acting this way. deep down he knows it's his own fault by purposefully brushing will off at the airport, but he was being so self-absorbed and self-pitying that he convinced himself it wasn't.

"why is this on me?? why am i the bad guy??"

so lets go through this again, inferring from mike's own words.

when will left hawkins, he felt weird. he'd just spent the whole summer trying to be grown up and acting like he didn't care about dnd anymore, shutting will down and really hurting him in the process, so he probably feels embarrassed that he now feels the exact opposite. he enjoyed spending time with max, lucas, and dustin but it just wasn't the same without will. he missed will so badly that the fact that will was barely reaching out got to his head, and he felt too insecure to find out for himself. he didn't know if will felt the same way or if he was doing fine without mike, making lots of new friends and enjoying life. he was afraid he'd lost will. then here comes el with her letters saying how life is awesome and they have lots of friends. mike probably thought, oh now i'm DEFINITELY not telling him how i feel. the letter about will potentially liking a girl was the final straw. wow. so he's occupied with some girl and thats why he won't talk to me. so now mikes determined to not give will an inkling of an idea that he's bothered or that he cares. psh, mike could care less. maybe when will sees that mike totally doesn't care he'll feel like he screwed up and he'll be super nice to compensate and win mike back.

so mike gets to lenora and hey, will, i totally don't care about seeing you, see how i dodged your hug? i don't care. then he sees the painting. maybe it's not for someone he likes, maybe it's for me. here you go will, opportunity one to win back my affection.

"Uh, what's that?"

"Um, it's nothing, it's just this painting I've been working on."

"Cool."

operation-act like i don't care: EEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR FAILED.

LOOK at his face bro. he looks heartbroken.

from here on mike just got more and more annoyed. will isn't trying to win him back, he isn't compensating for the months of silence. he's acting sad. he's acting sad? he has the audacity to act sad after he made all these friends and left me behind?? no, this is not my fault, this is not on me. it gets under his skin in a way he can't ignore. those feelings of guilt and annoyance that will is causing mixed with his months worth of self pity and convincing himself he's not the problem leads him to another thought. he's doing this on purpose. he's punishing me. this was his plan all along. he's trying to ruin my day for no reason, because i clearly didn't do anything to deserve this.

then angela shows up and humiliates el and mike, for some insane reason, uses this as an excuse to express his anger to will, even though it had literally nothing to do with will.

"You should've told me she was having trouble."

"Well, I didn't know they were gonna be here, Mike."

"Yeah, but you knew she was having trouble for like a year and didn't tell me."

in WHAT world is this will's fault?? he had absolutely no idea el was lying until that day. and mike is blaming him? no, he's really not, he just wants a reason to express his anger without having to admit why he's angry.

"Well, I didn't know she was lying to you."

"Is that why you decided to be a douche to her all day?"

her. he's hiding behind el's name. psh, what? i don't care that you weren't talking to me, it's because of el.

el just got publicly humiliated and mike thinks now is the time to get on will and act like el's biggest problem was will not talking to her?? no way. he just doesn't want will to know that these are his feelings.

"I wasn't being a douche!"

this completely sets mike off. how dare will act all innocent after what he did to me all day? any part of him that was trying to hide that will's behavior is bothering him has been completely overridden. will purposefully withholding his attention from mike has pissed him off soooooo badly that he can't keep it to himself anymore or hide behind el.

"You were! You were! You were rolling your eyes, you were moping, you were barely talking you basically sabotaged the whole day!"

yup, thats right will. i know exactly what you're doing and i'm calling you out on it.

"Well she was lying to you, Mike! Straight to your face ever since you got here! And...and I've been a total third wheel all day it's been miserable. So sorry if I wasn't...if i wasn't smiling."

third wheel? really?

"Yeah, whatever man."

"Well what about us?"

"What?"

i imagine this is where mike shits himself. i mean he literally stops in his tracks. will is directly addressing what he'd been trying to hide his care for the whole time, them. all of a sudden after all these months, he cares about us? and it's poking at that weird feeling he had, like he missed will too much. like he was feeling too much.

"What, you're mad that I didn't talk to you? Seems like you've made it super clear you're not interested in anything I have to say."

"That's just not true."

mike says that so fast it's like a knee-jerk reaction. of course he cares what will has to say. all he's wanted all day, and all this time for that matter, was for will to talk to him. and will is blaming him?

"You called maybe a couple times. It's been a year, Mike. Meanwhile El has like a book of letters from you."

now mike's defense is kicking in. he feels like will is directly picking at that feeling. the weirdness. the fact that he feels differently for will than the rest of his friends, even his girlfriend.

"That's because she's my girlfriend, Will!"

"And us?"

now the alarms are going off. he knows something. "us" for will in this moment is just their friendship. "us" for mike is something more, because that's what's been brewing in him the whole time they've been apart. internalized homophobia in 3..2..

"We're friends! We're. Friends."

"Well, we used to be best friends!"

oh. he was just talking about our friendship. i was tweaking a little bit. and...ouch. will just officially said they aren't best friends anymore. and he's blaming it on mike. but mikes defenses are still up high.

"Well...well maybe you should've reached out more, I don't know! But why is this on me? Why am I the bad guy?!"

then will is lost for words, and he just look sad. and as mad as mike is, he hates seeing will that way.

i imagine the day or two between this and his apology, mike went over this fight in his mind multiple times. and the more he thought about it, the more he realizes, ah shit. i was way too in my head and this was completely one sided. will wasn't plotting against me, i just felt so bad for myself i convinced myself i did nothing wrong. all this because i thought he found new friends and i felt bad for myself. and now i've lost my best friend and made him feel like all of it is his fault. i have to let him know it's all on me.

tldr: mike is weird and gay.

#stranger things #byler #will byers #mike wheeler #byler endgame #byler analysis #stranger things 4

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extristitiavenit · 6 months

Text

Too Sweet - @ohtheblissx

It was a day like any other for john, the rise and shine grind of stammering out of bed and into his kitchen to use the blender for his morning brew, bliss oil, jimson weed and coffee all ground together with just a pinch of hazelnut for task before he was soon his bouncing and charismatic self. Once the sun had come up, yes he woke before the sun, he had already been clad in a pair of tight skinny jeans, to avoid baggage during baptism and of course he wanted to make sure he looked his best so he had a relatively nice dress shirt, his vest to feel fancier and of course a shit ton of hair gel to keep that mess back in the water. He knew he had a long day ahead, so he grabbed several thermoses to fill his morning concoction for the go and he was out the door, barely beating the morning light.

Most days reserved for baptism had a lot of thought put into it, showmanship, scripts and it was a spectacle to be seen so he knew he had to be at his best. Unfortunately that meant being cracked out of his mind, tearing up the roads of hope county in his beloved car and making an entire ass of himself to the early rising farmers as he’d passed by. Once he was at his usual baptism spot he’d seen his devout workers already hard at work dumping the bliss into the shallow water and creating a natural barrier to attempt to keep it all maintained. He abhorred Faith for her littering, but this was a necessary evil. Eyeroll.

Black boots hit the morning dew-soaked grass beneath his car door, his eyes squinting at the sun beaming over the mountains even despite having his signature shades on, the bliss had made everything so more vibrant. “brothers, sisters.” He sighed out, he was exhausted much like any addict he didn’t sleep much and that attributed to his foul mood, not that he could take it out on any of his followers without joseph reprimanding him. “make sure after you bless the waters you get rid of those containers, and I mean get rid of. If I so much as see a single barrel on the side of the waters west of the henbane.. there will be hell to pay.” He wanted so badly to spit that out more aggressively than he did, but he knew that sometimes people got butthurt and ran back to run their mouths for brownie points, so he settled with clenching his jaw and gesturing for them to commence.

Him on the other hand, he had an entire roster of people who were willing to be baptized and usually they had a few not so willing participants but— today's schedule was cleared. The only thing that he was dreading was the fact that he was expected to be there upon pickup of every participant of the evenings event.

Which meant he had to sit either passenger inside of the van or spend all day driving himself to each location, so to save on gas and his own peace of mind he went with the van. One visit turned into two, minutes turned into hours and as many fake smiles as he had to muster was enough to drive a normal person insane, but john wasn’t normal and he’d spent the entire trip sipping on bliss and taking it easy. Half of the time he was on his phone scrolling aimlessly and trying not to get a boner, but eventually the time had come. They had picked up the final passenger in the van, and the show was about to begin.

Once they had been at the river and everyone had gotten themselves prepared, it was time for John to make his scene. It was only a few minutes before he was about to walk down to the edge of the water when one of his devout followers came up to him to whisper the news, there was a deputy on their way through town and a birdy had heard they were investigating the happenings at Eden’s Gate. There was almost a glint of excitement that washed over him, the dread of monotony was taking a toll on him and this was the spark that he needed to get his motivation back. What better way to have showmanship if you don’t have new fans? Of course part of him halfway expects it to be a yee yee local cop, but regardless of that he was ready to get the baptism on the go. If he could get the majority out of the way before the arrival of the newest victim deputy, it would be a lot less stressful.

#/ this is the first step of chaos #/ i am v sorry if it's shiddy. sleepy hours

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mountainsandmayhem · 6 months

Text

Shhh...Just A Little Bit More

Part Three (Soft Version)

DBF!Joel x Female!Reader - 18+

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 (Spicy Version)

Summary: Joel Miller caught you working where you shouldn't be after you promised to quit. Now he's taking matters into his own hands. Word Count 4.7k

CW: DBF!, Dom!, SoftDom!, use of nicknames (baby, sweet pea, baby girl etc.), Sub/Dom, DD/LG, use of a collar, use of toys. no use of y/n. no description of reader except for piercings. Praise, degradation. After care.

AN: THANK YOU for all your love on parts 1 and 2. I was in my feels when I wrote this, so this is the sweeter version of the two. I'd love to hear which version you preferred!

“Hey, buddy. It’s Joel.”

“Joel?” You can hear your dad’s muffled and panicked voice through the receiver. “Where’s my daughter? Why do you have her phone? It’s 5 am!”

“Remember that time Sarah ran away to your house and you told me that one day I might be doing the same for you?”

Your dad is silent for a while, a distorted higher pitched voice filters through before you hear your dad again, “It’s alright honey. She’s with Joel.” He lets out a deep sigh before adding, “I thought we skipped the rebellious phase with her.”

“She’s a good girl. I think she just needs some time to cool off.” Joel says, his voice is friendly and light.

You squeeze your thighs together and nuzzle deeper into Joel’s throat. You know what you need, and it isn’t to cool off. He and your dad have been friends since the day he moved in down the street. You were seven and Sarah was eleven, you thought she was the coolest person on the planet. Wonder what she’d think of you now, cuddled up against her dad after he just edged the fuck out of you after spanking you in an alleyway. You’re lost in your thoughts as Joel talks with your parents for a while.

A sane person would stop being so turned on right now. Fuck, I need Joel. So badly. Maybe I should rile him up some more.

“I’ll come by this afternoon,” Joel hugs you tighter, bringing you back to the conversation. “Ya, if she wants to, I’ll bring her. She’s ok, just never seen her more - frustrated.”

You squeeze his side, knowing he’s smirking about how frustrated and needy you truly are right now. He hangs up the phone and brings his lips to yours, kissing you harder this time. You moan into his mouth, hands roaming up his body to tangle in his hair.

Holy shit, Joel Miller is kissing me.

As you run your nails along his scalp he lets out a pleasurable sounding gasp. Oh, he likes that, he likes that very much.

Got ya, you think to yourself.

He pulls away to see you smiling at him. “This is why I usually tie naughty girls down,” his voice is completely different from how it was just moments ago. Deeper, more commanding, and it reverberates through you, right to your pussy. “Because they think they’ve found spots that will get them what they want. Let’s go home now, darlin’.”

Joel’s front door has barely closed before he’s pushing you up against the wall, caged in by his arms and strong chest.

Every bump on the drive home had you twitching, you tried your hardest not to gasp and moan but the combination of the gravel road, your insane state of heightened arousal, and the lack of underwear in your stiff denim shorts were all working against you.

“Did you come on the drive home?” He says coldly, lips pressing against your neck, hitting that sweet soft spot just below your ear.

“No, Joel,” you whine.

His teeth graze your throat and you cry out, “It’s Mr Miller, don’t make me remind you again.”

Your hands scramble for purchase as your knees start to give out, wrapping around the open flannel shirt he’s wearing over a fitted black t-shirt.

“I’m sorry, Mr Miller. I don’t…” you trail off, you aren’t sure if you should say you’ve never been a sub before, at least not to someone this experienced. You don’t want him to stop, you love what happened tonight and you want him to show you and teach you what this all means. But even more so, you trust him to teach you.

Joel stops kissing you, hands coming to your waist and lifting you so your eye level. When you wrap your legs around his trim waist you gasp out in a mix of pleasure and pain. Your poor cunt is begging for relief but you can’t barely stand your clit to be touched. His eyes look at you with concern.

I deserve to go to hell if she tells me she’s a virgin. Fuck, you were so stupid when it comes to her.

“I need you to finish that sentence, babygirl. You don’t what?”

Your cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink, so shy compared to that bratty girl who told him to kiss his ass. Joel has the gut sinking feeling that you might have him wrapped around your little finger already.

Dangerous.

Very very dangerous.

Not to mention stupid.

“I’ve just..” you start, he brings his hands to cup your face, moving a few strands of stray hairs that are stuck to your lips. “I haven’t had a Dom before. I don’t know what to do or what to call you.”

Cute, Joel thinks to himself, she’s so fucking cute right now.

“Well babygirl, when we are playing like this you do what I tell you, and if you don’t like what I tell you, you use the safe word. Do you remember it?”

You nod, biting your lip as you whisper, “Cowboy.”

His face lights up with pride and in that moment you realize you’ll do anything to have him look at you like that again. And when he throws in a gravelly, ‘good girl’, any inhibitions you had go out the window. You are a good girl, you want to be his good girl…forever.

He continues, “And when we are playing you call me Mr Miller. Otherwise, you can call me whatever you’d like.” He places a light kiss on the tip of your nose and you melt a little more into him and the wall behind you. “Do you have any other questions, baby?”

Do you know what it does to me when you call me baby?

Or kiss my nose or forehead like you have?

Can you spank me again?

Can you make me come?

Can I suck your dick?

How do you feel about anal?

“Umm,” you press your lips together, eyes taking in every little bit of his face, trying to memorize this moment. “How will I know when we are playing and when we aren’t?”

Fuck, if this girl lets me put a collar on her I’m going to come in my pants and then propose.

“There’s my smart girl,” he praises, his coffee and caramel coloured eyes washing over you. “We can have a symbol, something I give you when we play. And when you’re wearing it you’re mine.” His voice sounds full of passion all of a sudden, each work almost sears itself onto your heart.

Your heart is pounding at what he’s implied and you’re almost sure he can hear it. “What kind of symbol?”

He puts you down and then gets on one knee to untie your shoes and help you slip them off. His warm fingertips trail up your legs as he stands before taking your hand in his. With his large palm encasing yours, suddenly you feel safe and loved, your pussy flutters at the promise of him taking care of you in a way that only he can. You know you’re going to be ruined for all other men.

He leads you to his bedroom and it’s nothing like you remember when you’d play hide and seek while Sarah babysat you. Gone is the old wooden furniture and mismatched bedding. Replaced with a black metal bed frame, along with matching bedside tables and dresser, and the fluffiest white sheets you’ve ever seen. You so badly want to just sink in and get naked with Joel. It looks like it would be like getting fucked on a cloud or cotton candy and those thoughts are only solidified when he tells you to sit before he heads to the closet doors.

He slides the barn door of his large walk-in closet open. The room seems to wrap you up in Joel’s scent, warm and spicy with a hint of vanilla. As he walks into the closet he toes off his boots and then slides his flannel off, placing it on a hanger. It might be your very neglected pussy talking, but you swear you can see every muscle in his body underneath that shirt and you unconsciously spread your legs a little bit. He reaches up above the clothing and pulls out a black box with a lock on it and then looks at you mischievously as he pads back over to you.

“Sometimes,” he says gently, “A dom will give their sub a collar. When it’s on, we’re playing. You belongs to me. When it’s off, we can just act how we normally would.”

A collar, definitely not sure how you feel about that. You don’t want to be like a dog with a black leather collar around your neck. He slides the numbers to enter the combination and then flicks the clasp open.

To your surprise, he pulls out a dainty golden chain. It almost looks like a bunch of yellow paper clips strung together, and there’s a tiny lock pendant on the end. He runs the thin links through his fingers before looking over at you.

“You don’t have to do this, I can just take you home and we can go back to how things were. Ultimately, you always have the choice.” If a stranger could see the way he was looking at you right now, they’d never be able to tell he was capable of the spanking he gave you earlier.

“You’ll stop if I say ‘cowboy’?” You say, voice cracking, nervous and excited energy fighting for first place.

“Always, babygirl. I’m here to dominate you, but I’m also here to take care of you. A good dom will always take of their sub.”

“Then I want to. Please, Mr Miller. Make me yours.”

He almost growls as he pulls you to your feet. You squeal as he hoists you over his shoulder, his hands strong on the back of your thighs as he carries you to the floor-length mirror at the end of his closet. He stands behind you as he works the clasp, placing the thin gold collar around your neck and then doing it up. He’s so close that you can feel his cock harden at the sight of you as he officially makes you as his for the first time. Joel's thick fingers trace along the rings, he thumbs the little lock pendant before he grips your throat just below your jawline. He applies pressure to your pulse point as his now black eyes come to meet yours in the reflection and brings his lips to your ear.

With a growling, rough whisper he says, “You have five seconds to get naked and lay in my bed with your legs spread as wide as you can.”

The instant his hand releases, you sprint to his bed, stripping your clothes as you go. He counts to five with authority and after what happened his truck, and now this, you’re sure you’re never going to be able to count without getting turned on ever again.

“Such an eager little thing, aren’t you?”

Desperate to hear him praise you, you lay on your back, planting your feet on the bed before letting your knees fall open.

“Straighten your legs and put your hands above your head.” You position your body how he says, even though you’re completely exposed to him his eyes stay locked on yours. “This is how I want you when we start playing. Exactly how you are now.”

He grabs another box from his closet and places it on the foot of the bed, eyes travelling up your toned legs, “I’m going to show you what you’ll be going to work with inside of you tomorrow if you decide to stay there. I haven’t forgotten that you were a brat tonight.”

He opens the box and pulls out a black U-shaped piece of silicone and lays it on your belly. “Do you know what this….”

He stops mid-sentence, eyes lighting up as they rake over your tits. They dance from each nipple, taking in the tiny barbell and the thin hearts that encompass each one. “You are a naughty little thing, aren’t you?”

“I like pain,” you whisper, throat going dry at the admission.

“My little masochist,” he hums. “As I was saying, do you know that is?” He nods his head towards the little toy.

You shake your head, “No, Mr Miller.”

“That goes inside your gorgeous pussy. One part pushes on your g spot, the other on your clit. I have the remote.” He holds up a small plastic remote with a few shiny buttons.

“Oh,” you moan, your lips forming in the shape of the word, nipples getting harder at the thought.

“I will keep it turned on low enough that you will not come. In fact, it might be more like torture than pleasure.” His eyes are sparkling at the thought of you squirming for hours.

“But I don’t want to quit,” you whine. You’re a glutton for punishment and you know Joel will dish it out.

“How long is your shift?” He says, picking up the toy, the graze of his fingers along your belly sends an electric current through your body.

“Four hours,” your voice is husky with need.

“I’m going to get some lube and then put this toy inside of you now, babygirl. We’ll see how long you can last. Is that okay?”

“Of course, Mr Miller.” You try to sound confident but in the bright lights of his room, you can see how dark and serious he looks.

He lubes up the toy and then swipes some lube through your folds. Your back arches off the bed and you let out a loud high pitched moan when he hits your clit.

Fuck. I’m gonna come with the tiniest vibration and it’s probably going to hurt.

“So wet. So swollen. My poor girl,” he says mockingly, he’s loving that you’ve been suffering and on edge since the minute you saw him in that alleyway.

The toy slides in and the pressure just from the silicone alone sends the air whooshing out of your lungs. You’re gasping for breath, your clit feels like it’s being zapped with electricity and you immediately slam your thighs together and start to whimper.

A small, almost evil sounding chuckle comes from Joel as he holds up the remote. “Ready?”

“No,” you gasp, rolling onto your belly. “I can’t. Please don’t.”

“Are you going to quit?”

You cry out in frustration into one of his fluffy pillows and then whisper a sad, “no.”

The vibrator comes to life and the most intense mix of pain and pleasure floods your body. He’s right, the sensation isn’t enough to make you come, just enough so that you know it’s there. You bury your face deeper in the pillows, curling yourself into the fetal position, back towards Joel, as you try to breathe normally.

Joel strips down to his boxers before shutting off the lights. He slips into the sheets, covering you up along the way. “Good night, baby girl.”

“What?” You gasp. “Mr Miller. I….oh god…I c-can’t. It’s on.”

“You may as well get used to it. You’re going to work with it in tomorrow. No more talking. Go to sleep.”

Joel lays on his back, one arm behind his head, the other palm spread out on his chest. You flip around to face him, the early morning sun lighting his profile. There’s no way you’re going to be able to sleep, you shift your legs around.

Maybe if they’re spread I won’t feel the vibration as much.

That doesn’t seem to work so instead you squeeze them together. More pressure might make you come and then you can finally get some rest. Joel looks over at you as you jerk around silently.

“Come here,” he says, patting his chest. You cuddle into him, one leg draping over his warm body. The arm behind his head wraps around your naked body. He feels so soft but hard against you. You can’t help but hump against his hip bone. You’re right on the edge. So close to tipping over it and coming. So very close.

“Baby, it hasn’t even been four minutes, how are you going to last four hours?” He’s taunting you, trying to get you to beg. “You’re pathetic.”

You can feel sweat breaking out across your body. This is torture, was right. You hate that he was right, but you hate even more how much he’s loving it.

“Please,” you whisper.

He pulls back to be able to look into your eyes. “What are you going to do for me if I make you come?”

“Anything. Just. Please, Mr Miller.” You grind yourself into him harder, you’re so close that it’s almost unbearable.

“Quit your job, baby girl.” He demands again. “I’ll tell your parents you’re going to work for me.”

You start to pant as the pressure in your lower belly increases, you can feel wetness pooling inside of you, begging to be released. “I can’t take your money. Oh god - please - I ca-can’t. Hnnnnng. P-please.”

A tear runs down your cheek and you’re not even sure why you’re crying, probably out of frustration.

“You can. I’ll pay you to help around the house,” he holds up a hand, almost like he knows exactly what you’re doing today. “Not for the sex you’re guaranteed to get if you quit and come here.” He wipes the tear away and hikes his leg up to increase the pressure that’s already on the verge of making you pass out.

Stars start to blur your vision as you whisper, “ok. I’ll quit.”

Joel has you flipped onto your back, trapped under his weight before you can even register what’s happening. He’s kissing you deeply, tongue taking what it wants as your legs kick and shake under him.

“Please!” You cry between kisses.

His thick fingers slide between your puffy folds and the toy, you scream out as he pulls the toy from you.

“Shhh…just a little bit more. I’m going to make it better,” he says gently, kissing down your neck, swirling his tongue around each nipple piercing.

“Please. Please. Please, Mr Miller. Please. It hurts. I need, please.” You’re a mumbling mess and the words leaving your lips are practically incomprehensible.

“I know. Relax baby. Breathe.” He says between kisses down your sternum, his tongue tracing your curves. When he finally settles in between your thighs he swallows hard, he wants to dive right in, make you drench his face as you come. “Look at me, darlin’.”

His warm breath hits your pussy and you fight your hips from bucking up to his face as prop yourself up on an elbow and try to focus your eyesight on him. You didn’t know it was possible to be so turned on that you practically had tequila vision.

His voice is serious yet calm as he says, “I’m going to make you come using my fingers and my tongue. Is that ok?”

You nod your head and a faint ‘yes’, leaves your lips.

“Can I lick and touch both the outside and inside of this beautiful, weeping, pussy?”

His words from earlier echo through you. Ultimately, you always have the choice.

Joel Miller would never do something you didn’t want and that sets your soul on fire. He cares. About you. Only you. Wants to do things for you. You are not a burden here. You are not a burden to him.

“Yes, Mr Miller. Please. Touch me.” The room suddenly feels twenty degrees hotter, you can feel sweat beading on your skin.

“What’s your safe word?”

“Cowboy,” you hum, never taking your eyes away from his blown out obsidian gaze.

“That’s my girl,” he says, sliding his ring and middle finger around your desperate entrance. You cry out, dropping your body to the bed. Pleasure. Overwhelming pleasure. “No no baby girl, eyes on me.”

You somehow muster the strength to raise yourself onto shaky arms. His two strong fingers slide deep into your heat with minimal resistance and you immediately start gasping. Pleasure. Life altering, heart stopping pleasure.

“Fuuuuck. Baby. So tight. Have you ever squirted before?” His cheeks are flushed with need. He might be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

Your breasts rise and fall with your ragged breaths. You shake your head and moan out a ‘no’.

He smiles down at your dripping cunt, “I can feel it. Gotta relax for me. Just breathe and let it happen.”

Nerves flutter in your stomach and then he curls his fingers forward, putting so much pressure on a soft spongy spot that you didn’t know existed. On instinct, your knees try to close but his wide frame keeps you open. You yell his name to the ceiling, he knows he should punish you for not calling him Mr Miller but you look so goddamn beautiful as you start to fall apart.

“Breathe baby,” he says as he curls his fingers once, twice, three more times. You can hear how wet you are and the pressure becomes unbearable. Stars blur your vision again, the walls of your pussy squeeze tightly around his fingers and then it’s just a blur. A blur of all consuming pleasure.

“That’s it. That’s my girl. Come for me. Soak me. Good girl,” Joel’s free hand pressed down on your mound as a wet heat leaks all over you. “Good fuckin’ girl. Let go for me.”

You’re not sure if you’re screaming or not, all you hear and feel is Joel. Everything is Joel. Strong hands, deep gravel voice, warm vanilla smell. He’s everywhere and you never want it to stop.

“Keep going. That’s it. You look so beautiful,” he says, licking a long stripe up your fluttering pussy, drinking up your juices. “Oooh yeah - gooood giiirrll”

Almost immediately after your orgasm crests it becomes too much. You’re so overstimulated that it hurts and your moans of pleasure become cries of pain. You forget your name, where you are, you even forget your safe word. But Joel knows, he always knows.

He stops pumping his fingers and says your name, “look at me sweet pea.”

You blink slowly, you’re wrecked, barely able to keep your eyelids open, almost convinced they’ve been replaced with steel. You’re sucking in air, did you not breathe that entire time?

“Breathe baby, you’re ok.” He says, stilling his fingers until you’re ready.

“I’m sorry, Mr Miller. I know I called you Joel. I won’t do it again.”

There she goes again, being so fucking cute. “It’s ok, darlin’ girl. I want you to let loose when you come.” He places a few light kisses along your thighs. The sheets and his t-shirt a soaked, he’ll need to change things before you both get some sleep. “I’m gonna pull my fingers out.”

You fall back to the bed and fist the sheets to ground yourself as he slides his fingers out. “You did such a good job. Made a huge mess. I’m so proud of you, babygirl.”

Every bone and muscle in your body seems to have dissolved and all you can muster is a weak smile and a little whimper of thanks. “I need to get you cleaned up. Stay here.”

Stay here? I have no bones. Where else will go?

The sound of running water coaxes your eyes to close. The mattress shifts under Joel’s weight as he sits beside you, lightly trailing his finger down the bridge of your nose. “I’m going to carry you to the shower. Ok?”

You let out an agreeable hum as he scoops you into his arms. His warm naked chest pressed against you. He walks into the shower with you, the steam warming your skin. He places you on your feet and guides you under the water with him. Water is hitting you from all angles. You open your eyes to see 3 showerheads in his large, modern glass shower. A large rainfall one above the two of you, then two down the wall. The bundle of fresh eucalyptus hanging from one head fills the shower with a fresh scent.

His fingers fumble with the clasp of your collar behind you, “how are you feeling after what happened tonight?”

You smile at the white and black tiled wall as the collar slides off your neck and into Joel’s hands. “Mmm - like I’m not gonna quit my job so we can do it again.”

“Don’t think I won’t put this on again right now and make you regret that.”

You giggle and press your body back into Joel’s. He’s completely naked behind you and you have the sudden urge to taste him. As you spin around and get to your knees he stops you, “don’t interrupt my aftercare, please.”

“Your what?”

He grabs the soap and a fresh wash cloth and starts to work it to lather. “I told you, it’s my job to take care of you.” It’s too early to admit it to you, but aftercare is Joel’s favourite part. He’s grumpy and rough on the outside, but he loves the tender moments after playing with his subs. Especially you, and that’s something he won’t even admit to himself yet.

He runs the soft cloth over your arms and chest, using extra caution not to catch on your nipple piercings. I like these,” he says, eyes memorizing every inch of the skin he’s washing.

“Thanks, you’re actually the first person to see them.”

“That right?” He moves the cloth down your stomach before kneeling in front of you and washing your legs. “You know what I think you should pierce next?”

“I have an appointment next week for something,” you tease. It’s not a lie, you have an appointment to get a second hole in each earlobe, but may as well play with him a little.

“Oh? Don’t tease an old man like that, baby girl. What new surprise am I gonna find?” He brings the cloth up and down your other leg.

“What do you want to find?”

His hands grip your hips and he spins you around. You have a small bruise forming on your one ass cheek and his cock jumps at the sight. “Belly button,” he says.

“Oh?” You say with surprise as he stands behind you and scrubs your back. You turn to look at him over your shoulder and add, “I was thinking of doing my clit.”

Joel’s hands come to his heart as he moans. “Fuck me, baby girl. I’d have to leave the god damn continent until it healed.”

You laugh as he brings his lips to yours. You’re suddenly very aware of the fact that you aren’t wearing a collar. But he’s kissing you and washing your body. Does this mean that Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend, might have the same sort of feelings that you have? Or is this just what he does with his subs after dehydrating them with his fingers and tongue.

“Stay in the warm water while I change the sheets. I’ll be back,” you look over your shoulder to finally take in his naked body. His back is lined with corded muscle, water droplets filling the dips and grooves of his sculpted body. It looks like you could bounce your whole fucking bank account off his round ass.

Am I salivating. I feel like I’m salivating.

He wraps a white bath sheet around his waist before you get to see his front - as much as you loved being taken care of earlier you should have looked down. You run some shampoo and conditioner through your hair, rinsing it out just as Joel comes back, now in a pair of fitted boxer briefs. He holds up a towel for you, and after turning off the water you pad over to him for him to wrap you up and gently dry you off.

“Thank you, Mr Miller,” you say instinctively.

He smiles softly at you as he dries every inch of your skin. “Go lay down, babygirl. I’ll get some lotion and then you need to get some sleep.”

When you walk out to his bed there’s a t-shirt and a bottle of water on the pillow for you.

Fuck. I’m in love.

Taglist:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @baar-ur @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog @pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey @iluvurfather@ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30

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actual-changeling · 11 months

Text

i feel like all my meta posts just clicked and solved a puzzle in my brain. however i am also currently upping my sleep med dosage so if any of this sounds like the incoherent rambles of a mad man it's cause i am. incoherent and insane and rambling that is. (not a man)

but i have to write this post since i had a lightbulb realization moment.

because the thing is, besties, that aziraphale is a fucking horrible liar. he gets nervous and fidgety, he stutters, you can SEE him sweating anxiety. just look at him in the bookshop when the archangels inquire about their not-so-little 25 lazarii miracle.

his best "lies" are when he is actually telling the truth but twisted. he has never been a good liar (see job) and that has not changed in six thousand years. all smiles directed at archangels are visibly wrong, his discomfort is tangible.

whenever he panics it is written across his face clear as day, including, and this is the important bit, when he is talking to the metatron.

now, you are wondering why exactly that matters, and the point is something we have all talked and thought about for ages but my brain just. formed some new neural pathways.

because he is a terrible liar, he is horrible at hiding his emotions.

but you know who isn't?

crowley.

unless you know him, it is very hard to read his facial expressions with his glasses on. he can turn his emotions "off", he can put a wall in front of them and by extension around himself.

i talked about it more in this post, so for background info have a look at it (if you want to)

it's crowley's thing yet there is one moment, one, glorious moment in which aziraphale executes it perfectly. and that moment mirrors crowley putting on his glasses, it is aziraphale attempting to hide away all of his feelings and thoughts so no one can tell what he is really thinking.

the parallels besties. the fucking parallels.

what really sells it to me is that last comparison because it matches too well to not be intentional. honestly, after the sink story i think every little thing in this show is done on purpose and with attention to detail, so.

the empty look, the heartbreak, the pain - the realization. this is it. i am not walking away from this unharmed but i am walking away. or rather into the loneliness, the absence of the person i love.

for aziraphale also the realization that the world is about the get fucked and he is not.

after that we have the inhale of courage. taking a deep breath to calm yourself, to find your way back to your body. a kind of preparation we have all done at one point or another.

the mask slides into place. or at least you want it to slide into place, you are trying to fucking jam it into the spot you need it to be but sometimes it's like trying to push the square peg through the round hole.

it's a disconnect, it's putting up a physical and emotional wall. crowley does it to hide away from aziraphale.

aziraphale does it hide from heaven and the metatron, yes, but he does it to hide from himself. at his core, aziraphale compartmentalizes. he is so fucking good at cognitive dissonance it's scary, and that's what happens here.

he knows, he KNOWS, that he needs to lock up his feelings or he won't be able to get into that fucking lift and do what he thinks he needs to do.

and so he walks away from crowley just like crowley walked away from him, copying him and doing exactly what he has seen him do a thousand times: putting up wall after wall after wall. ripping out every sprout of vulnerability before it can bloom.

except that he stopped doing it after the no-pocalypse, and that is why it hurts so fucking badly when he puts his glasses back on.

he is not ripping out a sprout, he is uprooting an entire fucking tree

aziraphale cannot hide behind sunglasses by crowley so he hides underneath an angelic persona, the person he thinks he should be, needs to be, and the problem is that whenever he slips into that role, it becomes him.

getting crowley to take off his glasses again is going to be a herculean task and the same goes for getting aziraphale to drop his act. they're one and the same in shape and origin and purpose but they are not indestructible.

because listen. all of this is painful and it hurts. it really is.

the fun part, however, is the fact that we know exactly what it takes to destroy that barrier, we have seen it happen to crowley before.

my point is that we are missing the parallel for said destruction.

#alex talks good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen #good omens meta #if there's any spelling or grammar errors pls know i typed half of this with my eyes closed bc my meds are kicking in

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spitdrunken · 8 months

Note

i am absolutely insane about your headcanons with the vee's, my mind is so full now... this is exactly what i was hoping to find when searching through the hazbin x reader tag after watching the episodes 👁️🙏🏻 please i'm so!! the being a writer for the vee's imagine is such a good idea, val and his.. comment especially got to me..

also, for your consideration:

Val — or all of the Vee's, really —, but, in the beginning, he's really not convinced about the quality of your dialogues, despite all the lines he's read (or, well, has had Vox read to him), so naturally you have to read your previous stories out loud to him, cheeks flushing and squirming when it gets to particularly graphic scenes and his gaze on you is so very heavy, smoke caressing your jaw while you stumble over your words.. It's worse if you've written about them and a character who resembles you, and Val's smile widens when you skip from story to story, mentioning the character — definitely not you — sucking Vox off, bending over willingly for Val and begging for Velvette to touch her, or even take all three of them at once, greedy...

Also the. love potions Velvette makes have me feeling things.. Her or Vox but they might end up putting a drop or four into your glass — purely accidentally, of course! —, and...

this is terrible.. my mind is too full now... i might have to post writing for hazbin now and it is your fault alone.. (affectionate; truly, I've enjoyed your thoughts so very much!! thank you for sharing!)

I'm glad you enjoyed it so much :D!! I had an absolute blast writing it myself, and I've been thinking about it lots!! Your ask made it even Worse (/pos) and I simply had to write more!! Please please please let me know if you write something for Hazbin, I can tell from your ask already that it'll be wonderful! And if you ever wanna chat about these guys, feel free to message me again, haha.

Notes: power imbalance, sexual harassment, heavily dubious/noncon due to love potion usage.

The fact Vox even bothers at all to take the time to sit Valentino down and read to him is already a show of your quality— He really wouldn’t go through wrangling him like that for just anyone, especially not with Val getting a bit pissy when being reminded your works were being compared to his. He needs to be told that, obviously, Val, some mere written words are never going to compare, especially not in earnings, to his creations. This placates Valentino. But all Vox gets for his efforts are a lazy flick of one of Valentino’s four wrists, his eyes not even looking at him. “Look, I still think it fucking sucks. But if you wanna hire them so badly, whatever. I’ve got better shit to do than listen to daddy’s horny story-time.” Suffice it to say, he becomes a lot more… Amiable (poor you) once you’re actually working there, and he has a face to attach to the stories. He can tell upon first glance that you’re one of those pathetic little hermits, too scared to leave your own shitty apartment, barely scraping by— He’s recruited plenty of those types as whores, after all. So easily pushed around that it shouldn’t give him nearly as much satisfaction as it does.

When Valentino practically demands you join him in his room and read your previous work to him, you sputter out protests, heart skipping a beat. Every employee in the company has something bad to say about this man, and so he’s about the last person you want to be caught alone in a room with. Especially not his bedroom.

“Ah, sir, I’m not really sure—“ But he’s already wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his side as he drags you through the halls. The first thing that strikes you is how different the texture of coat is than you were expecting. It doesn’t even feel like anything at all. “Oh, sweetheart, call me Valentino. No need to be so unfamiliar with each other.” He practically purrs, a single finger tracing up the contours of your chest. “I feel like we’re going to get quite familiar.” If all the alarms weren’t ringing in your head before, they most definitely are now. But there’s nothing you can do. His grip on you is tight and, underneath his red coat, you can feel the hard metal of a pistol pressing against you.

He takes you to his room, walls covered with posters featuring himself, and you hardly have the time to look around before he sits you down on one of his red couches, still caught underneath one of his arms. It’s hard to think, much less speak, as Valentino starts to prod you to pull out your phone and start reading. “No need to be shy. You’re such an artista, aren’t you? Don’t keep me waiting.” It’s easy, at first. When the scene hasn’t grown explicit yet, and you can pretend you’re only reading the text out loud to yourself like you always do, making sure the sentences sound right. But Valentino makes it hard for you to distract yourself entirely. He rubs circles on the skin of your thigh, and the smoke from his pipe has long since been the only thing you can smell. The red smoke makes your head a little hazier, tongue a little looser— Though that all just might be because you’re not getting enough oxygen. Your every muscle is tense and, you think, this is what being a prey animal must feel like. The first time you stutter out the word ‘cock’, Valentino barks out a laugh, loud and sudden, entirely contrasting with the sultry demeanour he’s been putting on the whole time. You jump, gaze flickering from the screen to his face, before continuing. It gets worse when you realise exactly what story you’re reading out loud to him, one of the ones you’d never even posted anywhere, so utterly self-indulgent and poorly thought out that you regret it with every ounce of your being. (Unbeknownst to you, Vox has already read every draft you’ve ever typed up, but that’s neither here nor there.)

“Sorry, can I maybe, um, read a different one?” You practically squeak out. “I realised I have some better drafts, and…” “No,” Valentino shuts you down, tone temporarily harsh. “Don’t get too fucking cocky now, you’re already taking up enough time as it is. Shit’s about to get interesting, finally.” He’s saying all of this as if he wasn’t the one to drag you there in the first place.

So you trudge onward, reading as fast as you possible can, just trying to tough it out. As you read about a scared, unaccomplished demonic main character catching the eye of a trio of some of the most famous demons in town—through entirely unrealistic circumstances—you can see his grin grow wider from the corner of your eye. His nails dig into the flesh of your thigh, the smoke surrounding your face turning to caress your cheeks.

“So, let me gets this straight… You wrote about a trio of powerful demons with matching names, taking turns fucking an absolute nobody silly. One of them’s a pimp, the other a fashion designer, and the other a business man.” Valentino doesn’t give you the chance to respond. “Greedy little slut. You even chose this one specifically to read out to me, huh? Seems I got you all wrong,” he hisses out. “This must be a dream come true for you, isn’t it?”

Let’s just say that you got enough ‘material’ to write another four or so stories, just from that line alone.

----- A drop of love potion, and models always behave the absolute best, or so Velvette thinks! (As long as you don’t put in too much. It’s very hard to take good pictures when the girls keep trying to kiss you.) No bitching, no whining, only an easy to pose, cute demon to work with. And if she dresses you up in clothes that reveal more than they obscure, purely for her own enjoyment and usage, who’s going to blame her?

Certainly not you. You won’t remember a single damn thing. Not even the parts where you babble on about how pretty and gorgeous and cool she is, and how you’ve admired her for so long— All things she’s heard a million times before. Normally, she wouldn’t care less about it, but such words coming from someone with only a drop of her potion in her system means they’re all the absolute truth. She thinks it’s almost cute when it’s coming from you, really. ------------ Vox, on the other hand, would be more likely to use his hypnosis on you than a love potion. Just to have a few minutes in the middle of a meeting where you’re practically putty in his hands, all of your usual anxiety and shame having slid right off of your shoulders. He doesn’t feel any guilt about it whatsoever. Having read all of your works, he finds it safe to say that this is the exact kind of scenario you would enjoy…

And even if you didn’t, he still would. He gets a bit of a thrill out of the loopy, relaxed smile on your face as you nuzzles your cheeks against his arm, professing all of the thoughts you had about him before working at VoxTech, and the ones you still have today. It’s during one of these exact moments, that he’d likely find out that Valentino had fucked you already, something he hadn’t found necessary to mention. They’ll have a bit of a discussion about that later!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #valentino x reader #vox x reader #velvette x reader #cw.drugging #cw.noncon #cw.dubcon

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pico-farad · 3 months

Text

I finished season 1 of Vrains and it was cool but I thought it needed about 2 billion more secret identity shenanigans

extended thoughts below

So I went into a deep dive in my last two posts (1, 2) about all the problems I had with Vrains, and you'd think I didn't enjoy it, but in fact as I was watching, there was a separate, parallel version of Vrains that was playing in my head, a Yugioh I think we were robbed of and which fixes every problem I had with the first season, and that is Secret Identities AU.

Yusaku needs FRIENDS

This is YUGIOH.

This dynamic is everything I wanted from Vrains. Yusaku developing unexpected fondness for these bozos who think he needs a defense squad. I want Miraculous Ladybug levels of secret identity shenanigans. I want Yusaku slapping his duel disk every time Ai tries to blow their cover.

This AU sprung forth from the scene in the duel club where he shows Naoki his decoy deck. Having Yusaku passing as a bad duelist is 1) so funny, but 2) Yusaku needing to maintain his low profile is a useful contrivance for other characters to get more duels, and 3) I think it would be a really fun one-off episode where Yusaku has to duel using his bad deck. When he wins, Naoki is so proud he cries.

Having Yusaku actually have to interact with the other characters in the real world opens up Greek play levels of dramatic irony. The crux of a secret identity story is that every single interaction builds up anticipation, because you the viewer know that the other party is being deceived, and that the tension will snap when the secret is revealed.

I have zero anticipation about Playmaker's identity being revealed, because Aoi would be like "oh.... I guess he goes to my school" and Go would be like "have I seen that guy before?" But SIAU Playmaker? My guy is making friends just so he can betray them. Insane.

Go needs A ROLE IN THE STORY.

I said in my first post that Go isn't a rival or a best friend character. SIAU fixes this by making him both simultaneously.

Having him be the ace of the duel club is a natural replacement for his whole hero of the orphans schtick, while placing him directly the circle of relevance with the other characters. Instead of being disgruntled that the orphans suddenly like Playmaker more than him, he's disgruntled that Naoki and the duel club mooks are fawning over Playmaker -- which is actually just Naoki's character anyway.

I would kill for a big dramatic moment where Go learns that Playmaker and Yusaku are the same person, and even though Go feels betrayed that Yusaku has been deceiving him, he stands by Yusaku anyway because they're friends.

With a secret identity story, every conversation is working on multiple levels because each character is working with asymmetric information. You get these fascinating, layered scenes of two characters talking past each other because they cannot give up their secret.

Which would go especially hard with Go and Yusaku, because Go has legitimate criticisms of Playmaker in canon and Yusaku has legitimate reasoning behind the things he does, and as Go Onizuka and Playmaker they could never come to an understanding on them, but as Go and Yusaku, two friends in duel club, that door becomes open to them.

Aoi needs WRITING THAT ISN'T A TRAINWRECK

I made a whole post on this. Basically every problem would be solved if Akira doesn't know that she's Blue Angel. There's no reason for her to lose grotesquely against Yusaku, or have her basic autonomy called into question constantly.

Having her actively deceive her brother is delicious. Like I said in my last post, it's so obvious how Akira's overprotectiveness has taken its toll on Aoi, and pushed her into developing this other persona, Blue Angel. I want this absolutely dysfunctional sibling relationship so badly. The Blue Angel vs. Zaizen duel would make me lose my mind.

And a secret identities setting works so well with the potential themes of VRAINS as a stand-in for the internet and Blue Angel as an idol. Give me that Perfect Blue Satoshi Kon good stuff. Give me those themes about identity, and the different lives we live, outward and inward, online and offline.

This also helps Akira's character, because I think he would be much more interesting and relevantly positioned in the story if he stayed a SOL Technologies baddie. SOL Technologies has very little presence in season 1 despite being critical to the story. After Zaizen is replaced by an irrelevant clown, they don't do anything but send out mook AIs to get destroyed. By having a three-way standoff between Yusaku's squad, the Knights of Hanoi, and SOL Technologies, both Hanoi and SOL Technologies become more compelling. They've both got all the reason in the world to want to take down the other. Zaizen vs. Revolver or Spectre? That's good shit.

And don't get me started on how I would turn Revolver into a Secret Identities character.

#anyway hire me konami #I didn't even get into how I would involve kusanagi and ghost girl #yugioh vrains #yusaku fujiki #aoi zaizen #go onizuka #akira zaizen #naoki shima #ai vrains #ygo #pico art #pico commentary

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starry-eyedblog · 9 months

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HI LAURY (≧ω≦。) I CAN FINALLY SEND YOU AN ASK AGAIN!!

okay ahem i was thinking about roomates!soap and gaz !! they are like very overly touchy and obsessed with you, literally can't keep their hands off you while you three are on the couch watching a movie. a bit insane and gross sometimes too BUT i love them very much. DO YOU SEE MY VISION HERE!! i don't think i am explaining it well BUT YEAH >:3

ruru!! i'm so happy yer free from jail, vry glad to have you back<3

and omg i'm actually frothing at the MOUTH i see your vision so clearly. why is this so hot?? i actually need them so badly. hope i do the idea justice !! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

warnings/tags: roommate! soap x roommate! gaz x reader, non con/dub con, groping, pervy/creepy behaviour, slight manipulation/guilt tripping, mentions of panty sniffing

you had moved into a new flat a few weeks ago, managing to snag a pretty big place for a cheap price. when you saw the amount on the post advertising it online, your eyes almost bulged out of your head and you rushed to contact the owners, which turned out to be two handsome men a few years older than you.

what was not to love of the place? close commute to your work, cheap, spacious and two very good looking men living there too. honestly it felt like a setup but you didn't question it, and your application was immediately accepted.

so in no time flat you were moving in, setting up all your own furniture with the help of both your roommates. and after a week of getting comfortable and your roommates keeping a good distance from you while you settled in, they finally asked you to join in with them on their activities that have always been just for the two of them. the first, was film night.

"every friday night, we have film night. snacks, drinks, shitty films. it's our routine, and now you're here, we thought you should be included." gaz had told you on thursday morning, an easy smile on his face as he stood leaning on the kitchen counter, eating toast in just his plaid pyjama trousers hanging low on his waist with everything else on show. it was very difficult to avoid oogling at his chest as you responded. "so-sounds great, i'll uhm pick up some snacks after work tomorrow." you ushered out.

it's now friday night at half nine and the three of you are huddled up under soft blankets on the pretty spacious couch with you squished in the middle of them. there wasn't any need for them to have their bodies so close to you, but you didn't say anything. gaz had his arm resting on the back of the couch, around your head which made you blush slightly, even though it was just for his own comfort.

you're only fifteen minutes into the film, some popcorn in your hand with eyes glued to the tv when you feel the first touch. it's a big, warm hand pressing at your thigh. you jump, head whipping round to soap who smiles innocently at you. his hand grips your thigh and you whine, stumbling out a response.

"soap, wh-what-?" you try to ask but soap shushes you up quickly, "shh hen, tryna watch the film." he points to the tv with his free hand, no longer looking at you. not even a minute later, another hand coming from the other side of you is now squeezing at the inside of your thigh.

your head whips round to face gaz instead, your eyebrows scrunching up in confusion. "why are y-" before you can get another word out, gaz is also shushing you and instead facing the tv - just like soap.

you try not to think about it too much, as they both seem to be enamoured with the film playing in front of them and uncaring of the fact both of their hands are gripping at your thighs that borderlines on just a wee bit too tight.

as the film continues, you start to forget about the weight of their hands on your thighs but that doesn't last long until both hands are moving again, one going to your front while the other slides back to rest on your arse.

your cheeks instantly flare pink as you sputter out words, trying to ask what they are doing. "ain't doing anythin', you're jus' too sensitive love. keep watchin' the film alright? me and johnny really want you to take movie night serious, can you do that for us?" gaz asks with a pout, guilt tripping you with his adorable puppy face that will soon become a recurring issue for you.

you find your head nodding slowly, eyes turning back to the tv once again as their hands start to fondle you. soap's hand teases at your cunt through your joggers, cupping it every now and then while gaz grabs and almost kneads at the soft skin of your arse, fingers slipping the joggers down enough that he can touch warm flesh.

it doesn't take long for you to be a whimpering mess on the couch, trapped between the two burly men who give you no respite, rough overworked hands fondling you so meanly and roughly, without care for your sensitive body.

"gu-guys the film, i thought you wan-hghh wanted to watch it." you splutter, head rolling back onto the shoulder of gaz who's on your left. "aye we do, so quit yer yapping quien." soap grumbles, leaving a sloppy wet kiss on your neck, eyes not even looking at the tv.

it doesn't take long for gaz's fingers to work their way down your joggers and push aside your flimsy underwear, a dry thumb pressing against your asshole that has you squirming, hips bucking to get away. gaz's other hand keeps you pinned down firmly with no issue, watching the way your mouth falls open to let out confused sounds of pleasure and pain.

as gaz does this at the back of your body, soap fondles with the front of you, hand slipping down your underwear to press at your clit which makes you moan out-loud, eyes fluttering shut. "dove, please. we haven't seen this film before, been waiting awhile." gaz complains, nibbling at your ear and you feel as if all your nerves have been set on fire. the guilt and pleasure swirls through your turned on body, mind starting to become foggy as they continue their groping.

you bite down on your bottom lip harshly, teeth digging into the skin and causing little tears. tiny droplets of blood stain your bottom lip as you sit there like a doll for them, your fuzzy brain desperately trying to focus on the film but at this point any ideas you had about the plot or characters has left you and replaced with the way your body is being groped at by your two new roommates.

soon soap's fingers are slipping past your folds and caressing your hole that seems to grow wet from the touch, even though it's a natural human body instinct, soap takes it that you're enjoying his and gaz's caressing which just feeds into his gross mindset.

"fuck gaz, should feel how wet they are. fuckin' turns em on being groped." soap moans deeply, one thick finger slipping into your wet hole that immediately clenches down on the intrusion. "that so? we picked the right one tav." gaz smirks at his friend, pulling his hands out of your joggers to then shove his dry thumb into your mouth roughly.

"suck lovie." he stated, watching the way your teary eyes didn't move away once from the tv while your mouth gently sucked on the digit. soon he slipped his thumb out and pressed it against your hole once again, but this time he gently started to edge his spit soaked finger inside which had your body flinching. you had never experimented back there, so this was a very new sensation.

"never had anyone back here, eh?" gaz jokes with a mean chuckle which soap joins while thrusting one finger meanly into your tight cunt that leaks around his hand. another finger is soon added, thumb pressing against your clit. you feel absolutely ashamed, your body enjoying the touch while your mind is conflicted.

before you can think much more about how wrong this is, how your roommates have ganged up on you to touch you without any consent, your stomach tightens and your cunt clenches down on soap's two fingers. your asshole pulses around gaz's thumb as your orgasm washes through you and your eyesight blurs from the intensity.

as you whimper and gasp on the couch, hips bucking and writhing to try get away, both men watch in awe as you cum. the film is long forgotten now, playing quietly in the background as it illuminates the room. once your orgasm finally comes to an end, your body slumps back into the couch, eyes half lidded and body limp while your roommates remove their hands out of you.

soap is the first to taste your sweet nectar, long tongue wrapping around his middle finger and sucking off your juices. he moans and pants like a dog in heat as he tastes you on his tongue, and it isn't long before gaz is whining for his turn. soap reluctantly pulls off and rests his ring finger on gaz's plump lips, watching the younger man slowly open his mouth and welcome his finger inside. his tongue laps up the wetness, hips bucking up from need as he drinks down everything he can just off soap's finger.

after a minute, soap is pushing gaz off with a chuckle. "alright calm yersel gaz." he says, and gaz rolls his eyes. "you're just the same." he grumbles quietly before turning to you, smiling at how out of it you are, still limp against the couch.

thankfully both men pull your underwear back up and clean you up, but not without leaving messy hickeys all over your neck and shoulders to claim you as theirs.

and no one needs to know, certainly not you, that through this week of you settling in - where they kept their distance so you were comfortable, they weren't actually keeping faithful to that promise. they already managed to slip a few dirty pants out of your bedroom to sniff and huff at while jerking the other off at late hours into the night, as well as spying on you when showering.

but this was just the start of their creeping on their new pretty roommate.

@bjornthebearguy

@iciclesses

@mothymunson

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