#IT GOT ME RUNNING L A P S | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

7-deadly-cats · 2 months ago

Text

killing me softly | 13

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- P R E V I O U S | N E X T ->

✿ G E N R E ✿ she fell first, he fell harder | slice of life | drama

✿ P A I R I N G ✿ s1!rafe cameron x overthinking!reader (f)

✿ C O N T E N T W A R N I N G ✿ swearing, suggestive language, reader smokes weed and drinks alcohol, reader being silly and bold (yas girl), rafe does and sells coke, verbal tension, kinda angsty but also fluff, a little reader x random guy, rafe showing mixed signals/jealousy/possessiveness/DENIAL/heavy mood swings (but of course he doesn't name it as such), mentions of vomiting (non-graphic), also subtle implication of rafe having sexual thoughts about reader (just hints + non-graphic)

✿ S U M M A R Y O F L A S T P A R T ✿ thursday afternoon, cara helped you pick out an outfit for the party and she even managed to get you excited for the night. on friday, after econ class, you and rafe had a little run-in with ruthie and her bsf gracie (his ex-fwb/whatever), where you managed to politely get ruthie to shut her mouth. later, rafe got pissed when he found out topper had texted you and offered to give you a ride to the party. topper claimed he was just mad bc of the ruthie situation and he'd talk to him later. surprisingly, rafe texted you after school saying he would pick you up instead, claiming topper decided on taking ruthie and her friends. but the truth was (revealed in the extra scene UNKNOWN to reader) rafe got so mad with topper that he'd basically told topper to go fuck himself, leaving topper to drive ruthie's gang. rafe decides to drive you himself bc you're the only one he actually tolerates rn and also bc he doesn't wanna hear you whine about not having gotten a ride.

✿ W O R D C O U N T ✿ 8k+ (sorry)

✿ A / N ✿ guys, this was one of the hardest things to write and i'm the most stupid person alive for not having made a plot outline of KMS beforehand (i didn't even think i'd get past the second chapter ngl). i tried to include different kind of scenes and moods for the party setting without making it seem like pressuring reader and rafe into a dynamic that'd feels off or rushed but still i feel like i kinda made it flop. please please please lmk what you think and i hope you enjoy reading it anyway <3

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

W E E K O N E // F R I D A Y

Deep breath, brain off. I got this.

DON’T FORGET TO EXHALE.

“Hey,” you said with a hesitant smile as you opened the passenger door of the black Mercedes. And oh boy, you felt just as awkward as you had on Monday, the first time you two had actually talked.

Because this? This was a whole different level. A whole fucking different league. Because holy shit—this wasn’t school-related. You weren’t being forced to meet for a project or anything.

No, this was completely casual.

Even if Rafe’s invite to Kelce’s party was supposed to get you out of your shell and (quote) “fuck your brain out” (which—absolutely not happening tonight, wtf), he was still here voluntarily.

It had been his decision to invite you. His decision to come pick you up. And honestly? All the other stuff—the project meetups the past few days—were all initiated by him too (which, thinking about it now, made you a pretty shitty project partner, oops).

And that was what made this whole situation feel so intimate. It created this weirdly charged atmosphere that clearly only you seemed to notice (of course the ungodly hour didn’t help, nor did the fact that he was picking you up FROM YOUR HOUSE and now you were alone together in his car hahaha(very funny, yeah)).

Rafe turned down the music (some Kendrick Lamar track) and looked you over with a crooked smile (we’re talking full-on checking you out). “Damn, you really dressed up.”

DHGHCNGXFUDNJFKNGIKCDFJS.

A COMPLIMENT, RIGHT???

You smiled shyly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. Still, you raised a brow and met his blue eyes with a playful glimmer. “I guess I look like shit the other days then.”

Rafe scoffed, amused. “Shit, jusy say ‘thank you’ and shut your ass.”

IT WAS A COMPLIMENT.

Okay but—NOPE GIRL, NOT TONIGHT.

“Thanks,” you said, the butterflies in your stomach going absolutely feral. And then, feeling bad for not having something to say about his looks, you added: “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

OKAY SLOW IT DOWN, BRAIN OFF DOESN’T MEAN ZERO FILTERS. STAY COOL!!!!

But still, it was true. Rafe looked fucking good. The fresh aftershave lingering in the air? HOLY SHIT. But even that couldn’t top the look itself.

He was wearing a loose white button-up—partially unbuttoned (MHM)—with subtle vertical stripes, a silver chain resting against his collarbones, and whatever was under the shirt, your eyes didn’t even dare look at, afraid he’d catch you staring. And his hair wasn’t slicked back today—he had it styled into curtain bangs AND OVMFKNJDNVKFDHLSK.

Rafe raised his brows, smiling. “Yeah?”

OH UM OKAY??? NO DUMB COMMENT OR SOME SHIT???

You gave a surprised smile, awkward as hell, and your eyes flicked to his hair. “Yeah, I mean… your hair's different, right? Suits you better than the other one.”

You had to literally bite your tongue to stop yourself from backtracking, from explaining that the other hairstyle wasn’t bad per se, but this one just looked better without sounding like—

“Shit, is that a compliment or a polite insult?” Rafe shot back with a smug teasing grin, starting the engine.

Cool cool I’ll just get out of the car and crawl back into bed now, thanks.

You fiddled with the strap of your bag in your lap and gave a nervous smile. “A positive observation.”

“A—Jesus Christ, your game is ass,” Rafe said with a chuckle as he pulled out of your driveway.

You bit the inside of your cheek, hesitating. Then (fuck it): “Who says I’m playing?”

Rafe shot you a quick look, his smile widening, something weird glimmering in his eyes, before he turned his attention back to the road.

Okay, sir????

“What?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“Nothing.” Rafe shrugged, the smirk still on his face. “You ever even made out with a guy before?”

WHAT.

You furrowed your brows, painfully aware of the heat in your cheeks, and turned your gaze to the lights flashing by outside the window. “Can we not.”

“So that’s a no.”

NO I HAVEN’T YOU ASSHOLE.

“Why does that even matter?” you asked frowning.

But of course Rafe didn’t notice—or maybe he did, and he enjoyed it. In the reflection of the window, you could see his smug-ass smile.

“Well, maybe you should deal with that first before you try to go all in tonight,” he said, eyes still on the road.

And because you were REALLY not in the mood to listen to this kind of shit all night, you looked at him, clearly annoyed. “Okay, seriously, why are you so obsessed with my sex life or whether I get laid?”

WHEW GIRL OKAY.

Even Rafe gave you a quick, surprised glance, then let out this dumb little chuckle like what you said was so ridiculous. “Shit, that’s why you’re coming to the party tonight. So your crazy-ass brain can finally shut off.”

An uneasy feeling creeped up your chest—thoughts bubbling up, the sudden worry that maybe this whole thing was a joke to him. That you were just something to keep him busy tonight, some kind of project. But you pushed it down.

Actually, NO—you weren’t gonna let that sit. If he was really just here out of boredom, treating you like some throwaway experiment, then bye. He could take you right back home.

Because crush or not, you weren’t about to let him treat you like some kind of piñata.

“Okay, for real, this is getting on my nerves,” you said, and the sharpness in your voice? Yeah, he better hear it. “I know I have a problem with overthinking, okay? I know that. But getting drunk and letting some random guy rail me at a party?” You let out a dry laugh. “If you really think sex fixes everything, then you’ve got a way bigger problem than I do.”

You half-expected him to pull over and kick you out of the car (tbh, with Rafe you never knew), but instead he just scoffed, still looking at the road ahead. “See? That’s pent-up tension. A simple fling or a makeout would fix that.”

“Well, I guess, you can turn around then.”

Rafe laughed. “What?”

“You clearly invited me so some guy could get in my pants,” you said, shaking your head. Your voice was sharp, not exactly angry—more like fed up. “But that’s not gonna happen. So I might as well just stay home.”

Rafe glanced over at you, actual confusion on his face. “You actually going crazy right now?”

“No, you’re crazy for inviting me and acting like I’m—I don’t know, just some fucking project for tonight.” Your heart pounded hard in your chest, all the pressure you’d been holding in since this afternoon choosing now to break out. “Like, is that the plan? Throw me at one of your friends like I’m some kind of …sex doll?”

That thought had been hiding somewhere deep in your subconscious, and the fear that it might actually be true cracked through in the shakiness of your voice.

And now that it was out in the open—spoken, thought, real—your chest tightened, and whatever excitement you’d had about this night started twisting into—

“Holy shit, what?” Rafe looked over at you, visibly thrown off. “That’s actually insane.”

“Is it? Because that’s exactly what it feels like.”

Rafe didn’t say anything for a second. Just stared ahead with his jaw clenched. His brows twitched, then froze—his face unreadable, some emotion you couldn’t place.

Your heart was racing, nerves buzzing. You half expected him to turn the car around, drop you back off, maybe confirm your fear with some offhand joke.

But instead, his voice came quiet, serious: “Did Kelce or Topper put that shit in your head?”

You blinked. “What, no.”

“Then why the fuck would you think that?”

“I just told you.”

Silence. Just Travis Scott playing low in the background. Oh—and your fucking heart, hammering in your ears.

“If this is some pick-me girl attempt to—”

“No, what? Why would you even—okay, you know what, forget it,” you cut him off bitterly. “Clearly it’s impossible to have a normal conversation—”

“Jesus Christ, what would I even gain out of throwing you at some desperate fucker at a party, huh?” He motioned to himself with one hand, a pissed-off smile on his face. “As if I’m out here playing wingman for some asshole.”

Your knuckles hurt from how tightly you were gripping your bag. “Then I don’t get why you keep bringing it up.”

Rafe dragged a hand down his face, subtly shaking his head. “A joke, okay? It's just a fucking stupid joke, holy shit.” His voice was tight, barely holding back the tension, but there was a rough softness in it too. Like he was trying not to escalate. “Seriously, why do you spiral so hard over everything?”

“Because that’s what I do, okay?” You turned your body toward him, tapping your fingers against your temples like an actual maniac. “I overthink and spiral and if you keep repeating the same shit every fucking day, it doesn’t help—it just makes it worse, whether it’s a fucking joke or not.”

Rafe pulled the car over and cut the engine. For a second, you really thought he was gonna kick you out—but then you realized you were already parked in Kelce’s driveway.

Now he turned toward you, one arm resting on the steering wheel, brows furrowed deep. He pointed toward the house. “We’re gonna walk in there, Kelce’s gonna roll you a joint, and you’re gonna take the fattest fucking hit of your life. Then you’re gonna throw your goddamn brain in the trash and chill the fuck out.”

You blinked. Had he even listened to what you just—

He snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Fucking stop that. Seriously, I can hear the crazy-ass voices in your head.” He motioned to himself with a tense laugh. “Shit's making me nervous.”

And that—that utterly ridiculous idea that Rafe fucking Cameron felt nervous, and because of you—that made you let out a shocked, almost disbelieving laugh.

“You know,” you said, voice softer now with a hint of amusement, “telling me I’m crazy doesn’t actually help either.”

“Oh, fuck that,” Rafe muttered, no real bite in his tone, as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “Get your ass out of the car before Kelce starts getting ideas. And neither of us wants to deal with that shit right now.”

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

"Poor Top, now he has to deal with Ruthie’s bullshit," Kelce said as he leaned back on the couch, grinding the weed.

The three of you had settled on the back porch. No sign of guests yet (technically the party didn’t start till ten), but everything was already set up.

In the kitchen, there were all kinds of snacks in glass bowls, paper towels, and red cups everywhere, lit up like a club thanks to LED strips and fairy lights which also ran outside across the yard.

And of course, there was a whole damn bar—yes, Kelce’s family just casually had a legit bar in their backyard, with taps, shakers, and everything. It looked like a museum of alcohol. Four hookahs were set up in different corners, fully stocked with tobacco and coals, plus tables for beer pong and a pool filled with inflatable balls and flamingos.

And the wildest part of it all? The insane speaker system in the living room, hooked up through a network of cables so music played both inside and out.

Future was already blasting at a volume that felt like a preview of how loud shit was gonna get later. For now, though, it felt like the calm before the storm.

Which made the joint all the more welcome.

“More like his mom’s bullshit,” Rafe replied, taking a sip of his beer. “She won’t let him out of the office before ten.”

Kelce nodded and started rolling. “Oh yeah, right. That lady’s just straight up insane. Ruthie doesn’t even come close.”

“Shit, that bitch probably reminds him of his mom. That’s why he’s chasing after her in the first place,” Rafe said with a scoff.

Both of them chuckled at the same time, and for once, they actually seemed like friends—not like... bully and victim.

And honestly, you kinda felt like a third wheel.

“What about you? Cara showing up later or what?” Kelce asked, glancing over at you for a second before going back to rolling.

You were a little thrown by the question at first, then remembered—right, you’d talked about it in history class. With him and Topper, actually.

After Rafe had stormed off today, Topper had invited you to sit with them, and well, not wanting to be an asshole (especially since Topper had been so chill and polite), you’d joined them.

And it turned out, without Rafe around, both guys were actually decent company. Topper anyway, but even Kelce hadn’t seemed like such a loudmouth—just someone who liked to talk.

You nodded, smiling. “Yeah, she’s coming around twelve. If that’s cool.”

Kelce grinned. “Shii, of course. A hot girl’s always welcome.”

Even you had to smile at that because damn right, Cara was hot af.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Rafe shift in his seat and scratch at his chin. "Dude, you done yet?"

"Perfection takes time, okay?" Kelce said, then turned to you. "You wanna lick it or should I?"

UM... He hadn’t even said it in a teasing tone but still like—

You shook your head with a polite smile. “You do it. I’ll probably mess it up.”

NO WAY were you gonna go over there and lick a joint in front of both of them like ?? excuse me???

“Your tongue game can’t be that bad,” Kelce said, but he went ahead and sealed the joint anyway.

PLEASE, the party hadn’t even started yet. Jesus.

“You want me to beat his ass?” Rafe asked with a deadpan expression, and you had NO idea if he was joking or being serious.

Either way—THE BUTTERFLIES WENT FERAL FOR THAT BECAUSE OMG WHAT???

Not sure what to say, you just let out a nervous chuckle and were thankful when Kelce jumped in, holding the finished joint up like a trophy. “No need for violence. This bad boy’s ready to be smoked.”

After Kelce gave you a quick rundown on how to hit it best (you knew from Cara, but he looked so excited to explain you didn’t wanna interrupt), you took a deep inhale and let the smoke roll through your lungs and—fuck, it scratched the hell out of your throat.

You really tried to hold it in, but you were already leaning forward and having a mini coughing fit.

Ugh. Classic.

“Dude, here,” Kelce said, holding your beer out to you.

You smiled awkwardly, eyes watery, still half-coughing, and took the bottle from him. Then, out of pure secondhand embarrassment, you started laughing—only to choke a bit on the beer and end up patting your chest. “Sorry.”

Kelce grinned, taking the joint back from you with a shrug. “It’s cool. Ask Rafe. Dude coughs up a whole lung every damn time.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Rafe shot back, but even he had a little grin on his face, those blue eyes of his watching you with quiet amusement.

And you just smiled back, a soft giggle slipping out, your face finally relaxing. That whole insane argument in the car earlier? Not even worth thinking about anymore.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

“Quit giggling,” Rafe said, hiding a smirk while mixing himself a Jäger-Bull drink in the kitchen.

It was just after 10, and where the house had stood quiet earlier, now it was packed with dozens of guests. The music had kicked up a notch.

Most of them you recognized from school or around town (just from seeing them though). Basically all frat boys, gym bros, wannabe influencer girls/self-proclaimed kook princesses, or gossiping drama queens.

In short: people you couldn’t stand.

And while Kelce played the perfect host—probably spending the next thirty minutes loudly greeting people and taking shots with half of them—you and Rafe had ducked into the kitchen.

And yeah, HE had asked you to come with him. Or, well, kind of. Said something along the lines of “Shit, let’s dip until the first zombie wave passes.”

Obviously, you’d followed him, because (A) it was the obvious choice, (B) who the hell else were you supposed to hang with??? and (C) ... you were way too high to argue anyway.

Ever since your second hit, your whole body had been wrapped in this soft, warm glow, your thoughts nearly (!!!) silenced, and you couldn’t stop smiling and giggling. You were probably looking at him with total heart-eyes right now, but honestly? You felt too good to care.

“Sorry, I just—” you let out another amused chuckle, grabbing some snacks from one of the glass bowls while watching his hands. “That was kinda petty.”

Rafe scoffed and flicked open the Jägermeister bottle. “Nah. If he acts like a little bitch, he gets treated like one.”

Oh, right, context:

Topper had shown up earlier—or more accurately, waddled in behind Ruthie and her girl gang. And surprise, surprise, the second they got what they wanted (aka a ride), they vanished into the bathroom. Poor Topper got left behind, dapping up Kelce while Rafe had stayed on the porch couch, holding his beer in his lap, only giving Topper a slight nod.

You, at least, had had the decency to give him a smile and a small wave—not even feeling awkward about the obvious tension between him and Rafe, which you seemed to be the cause of, but whatever (that joint had absolutely softened your brain).

Meaning, that Rafe had probably just wanted to get away from Topper more than he actually wanted to hang with you, but WHO CARED.

You raised your brows at him, amused. “What even happened though? I can’t believe you’re this pissed just ‘cause he drove Ruthie.”

“Shit, of course. That’s a fucked up move,” Rafe said, now cracking open a Red Bull.

“I don’t buy that,” you replied, cheeks warming a little when he met your eyes. “I mean, I can't believe you'd back down for Ruthie.”

He raised a brow. “You’re being nosy as fuck right now.”

“I mean you were already acting weird at school when Topper mentioned he’d give me a ride,” you said, and um, yeah, WHY did you say that?

Rafe paused, tilting his head slightly, his whole expression switching to defense mode. “Shit, you think this is about you or something?”

You chuckled (girl, get it together) and squinted at him. “I’m just saying, it’s kinda funny how Topper suddenly ends up driving Ruthie even though he told me earlier I didn’t have to worry about a ride. And then you text me, offering to drive instead.”

Okay, maybe you were pushing it a little too far because Rafe looked at you with a frown. "Okay, what the fuck are you trying to say, huh?" he scoffed, disbelief in his voice, gesturing to his chest with an irritated smile. "You think I’m jealous or some shit?"

His reaction just made you giggle (girl next time, just take one hit). “I don’t know—”

“Okay, fuck no, jesus, what the fuck.” Rafe cut you off, shaking his head and squinting like you were giving him a headache. He gestured toward you now. “I picked you up so you wouldn’t end up bitching to me about how Topper ditched you for Ruthie, alright?” Then he motioned between the two of you. “You’re not seriously getting the wrong idea here or anything, right?”

Your smile faded, and then, panicking that your face might give something away, you just shook your head with a baffled little laugh. “What? No, oh my god, I just—I was just saying—”

“Yo, Rafe, there you are!”

Your mouth snapped shut as some guy from school walked into the kitchen, heading straight for Rafe and dapping him up.

Ugh, okay—not just some guy. That was Chris Reid. A walking jock stereotype.

Blonde hair, athletic build, tanned as hell, and captain of the football team. An asshole… and a full head taller than Rafe.

“Kelce said you'd be in here,” Chris said, and his stupid grin landed on you next, eyes scanning you in a way you did not appreciate. “This your girl?”

Heat crept up your neck, and when you caught Rafe’s dark look, you suddenly just wanted to leave. You felt completely unwelcome.

“You actually want something, or are you just here to creep on girls?” Rafe said with a crooked smile, not taking his eyes off Chris.

Reid’s grin only deepened. “Me? Come on, dude, I’d never hit on someone’s girl.” His eyes flicked back to you for a split second, almost like a provocation, before settling on Rafe again. “Nah, I heard you brought some yayo.”

...

Seriously?

You knew Rafe liked to mess around a little at parties, and okay… apparently during the last couple school days too, but dealing?

If you weren’t so high, it would probably hit you harder. But right now, you were just standing there awkwardly, a smile glued to your face because you had no clue what else to do.

Rafe’s eyebrows twitched, like his face couldn’t decide whether to go with annoyed or full on pissed off.

You honestly thought he might swing at Chris and Chris clearly thought the same because he just let out this cocky little chuckle. “Hey, I get it, if you wanna play the sweet little boyfriend role—”

“I’m not her fucking boyfriend,” Rafe finally snapped, his voice cutting through the room hard enough to startle you. He ran a hand down his face, clearly irritated. “You even got cash on you?”

Chris looked between the two of you, that gross little grin still on his face. “Of course.” Then he nodded toward the hallway. “You coming? Sounds like you could use some too.”

Rafe’s jaw tensed, and every part of you hoped he wouldn’t just leave you standing there. But he sighed, frowning, and motioned vaguely with his hand. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Waiting in the guest room then.” Chris gave you one last smirk before turning and disappearing down the hall—and something ugly and heavy settled in your chest.

It’s not like you expected Rafe to be your bestie tonight, and definitely not to act like you were his or anything—wtf, no, omg??? No. That would be peak delusion, holy shit.

No, you’d just kinda hoped… well, yeah, what had you hoped for?

Rafe didn’t owe you anything. He had every right to do what he wanted at this party, with whoever he wanted. He’d invited you as a guest, not as his date.

But still, this hollow feeling crept up and wrapped around your chest, sobering you faster than anything else could’ve.

“I assume you can handle yourself for ten minutes,” Rafe muttered, eyes dull like even he knew he’d just given in to some jock-asshole. There was this weird tone in his voice too, something tired and flat. “Unless you wanna come along and give it a try?”

Your cheeks already hurt from all the fake smiling but this one was worse, because now you weren’t smiling from comfort but because you had no idea what else to do.

You shook your head, chuckling awkwardly, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “Oh, no thanks. I’m good here.”

No way in hell you’d do a line in this environment. Plus, being around Reid made your skin crawl. And if Rafe had actually wanted you there with him… well, girl, it doesn’t matter. Let the guy do his thing. Don’t get clingy.

Rafe seemed to hesitate, big blue eyes staring at you with his jaw clenching slightly, then he just nodded and muttered, “Aight,” before following Chris down the hallway.

Something deep inside your chest twisted painfully as you were left alone in the kitchen. Suddenly, this whole party felt like the dumbest decision you’d ever made.

Technically Rafe didn’t even do anything wrong. He didn't owe you any kind of loyalty. But still, the way he’d made very clear that he’d had no interest in you.

Yeah, that stung. Made you feel hurt. Stupid.

The fact that you'd actually—seriously—believed that Rafe might see you as anything even remotely—

“You okay?”

You looked up, startled, as Topper stepped into the kitchen holding a beer, a genuinely concerned look on his face.

Once again, that default smile found its way to your face—probably from relief at seeing someone friendly. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to get a drink,” you lied, gesturing to the untouched cup Rafe had left behind.

Topper glanced at the bottles nearby and raised his eyebrows. “You drink Jägermeister?”

Um…

“Lemme guess. Rafe dipped,” Topper said, now frowning.

The fact that he acknowledged it out loud just made it even more embarrassing.

“Well, he went off with some guy to…” you started, not sure how to finish the sentence.

“Snort coke,” Topper finished for you, clearly annoyed.

You nodded silently.

“He’s such a fucking idiot, I swear to God,” he said, setting his own cup down on the counter with a sigh. “Sorry he’s being such an asshole.”

You raised your brows, not quite following. “It’s fine. I guess that’s just his version of having fun.”

“That’s his version of being stupid,” Topper shot back, brows pulling together. “First he blows up at me about the whole driving situation, then he ditches you? The guy doesn’t know what the hell he wants.”

OH, WHAT???

“Sorry, what?” you asked carefully, trying not to sound too curious.

Topper leaned against the counter, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Okay, what did he tell you—why I couldn’t drive you?”

Your eyebrows twitched, a sinking feeling already forming. “Well, he said you were picking up Ruthie and her girls, and that’s why he picked me up instead—so I wouldn’t get upset or whatever.”

“He made it sound like I decided that, didn’t he?”

... oh my god. OH MY GOD. DID THAT MEAN...?

“He didn’t say it explicitly, but—”

“What a fucking idiot. I can’t believe it,” Topper said, scoffing and shaking his head. “Ugh, and I’m the dumbass for letting his bullshit slide.” His gaze softened as it met yours. “Honestly, I’m sorry this turned into such a mess.”

You smiled—this time for real—a warm feeling blooming in your chest at the fact that he actually cared, though part of you was still confused why he seemed so riled up about all this.

“It’s all good, really. Just the fact you even offered me a ride in the first place means a lot.”

Topper nodded, then hesitated before saying, “Cara told me you weren’t sure about coming tonight. Or more like... didn’t feel great about going without her.”

God, at this point you didn’t even know who had texted what to whom anymore.

Also, you probably should’ve been a little annoyed that Cara had shared that with him but if you were being honest, you’d kind of figured that out the moment she’d asked Topper to give you a ride. And right now, you didn’t even care, because honestly? You were just glad not to be standing alone in some random corner.

So you nodded, a little embarrassed. “Well, yeah. I mean, I barely know anyone here.” You chuckled awkwardly. “And it just feels weird showing up to a party by yourself.”

But instead of laughing or making some dumb comment, Topper just furrowed his brows. “And that idiot still left you here?”

“What? Yeah—I mean, no,” you said, smiling nervously. “He’s free to do whatever he wants.”

Topper just looked at you for a second, his expression softening like he was trying to figure you out. Then he nodded, grabbing his drink again. "So are you", he said and tilted his head toward the door. “Me and a buddy are looking for two beer pong players. Was actually trying to find Kelce, but I think he’s stuck playing party host for a while. You down?”

You didn’t even think—just nodded with a smile, cheeks still warm from the aftereffects of the joint, and relieved to be included in something,. “Sure.”

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

“Damn, nice shot!”

You high-fived Rob as he held his hand up after you landed the ball in one of the opposing team’s cups.

“Thanks,” you said with a sheepish smile.

Rob—who was actually named Robert Lewis—had come all the way from Wilmington for Kelce’s party, and even though he was technically Topper’s rival in bigger surf tournaments, the two of them still seemed to be really good friends. And we’re not talking about that performative, hyper-masculine/bro-chill/we-might-be-toxic kind of guy friendship either—like, they were actually genuine.

Topper had even told you Rob was the better surfer by far, but the guy didn’t flaunt it or tease him about it. It was kinda sweet.

And Rob was sweet to you too. He’d greeted you right away, offered you a handshake (like, okay, manners king??), introduced himself, and was excited to play on your team.

Long story short: he wasn’t some Kook from Figure 8, and it showed.

Topper was teamed up with Molly Crane. WHICH WAS A FUCKING CELEBRATION FOR YOU, BECAUSE OMGGG?? A FAMILIAR FACE??

You had even hugged her when you saw her because you were so happy to see someone you knew and actually got along with.

And all three of them were just... nice. Chill. No dumb comments, no weird mixed signals, no constant mood swings. You actually felt comfortable for once.

And because the joint was wearing off and you were starting to feel a little tired, you’d ended up taking a few sips of Rafe’s fresh Jäger-Bull drink he had left behind to get your energy back.

That crazy-ass combo did make your heart race a little faster, and yeah, it freaked you out a bit because like, hehehehe what the fuck??? Butttt you’d already had a beer and half your current drink plus like three cups from beer pong, and so far you were totally fine HIHIHIHIHII.

Maybe even too fine, because playing with Rob was... NDNXDXNDUSXNK, he looked good, OKAY? Like objectively handsome (okay, scratch that—he was exactly your type), and also sweet and respectful, BUT still kinda flirty???

BEST. OF. BOTH. WORLDS.

And it seemed like he was genuinely interested in you. He asked where you were from, how you knew Topper, what you did besides going to parties, and even asked what perfume you were wearing because “damn, it smells really good” (THAT BASTARD WAS SMOOTH).

So yeah. To sum it up: you were having a great time, felt extremely at ease, and that was a very dangerous combination—because the way Rob so obviously showed he liked you, yeah, that gave you a big confidence boost.

So while you were having the time of your life, you just kind of... tuned everything else out. The loud music and chatter, the crowd, the screaming girls getting pushed into the pool by drunk dudes.

You even tuned out your own thoughts, just let yourself enjoy the moment, completely forgetting all the anxiety you’d felt before this party.

Including Rafe.

Who had totally disappeared ever since he left with asshole Chris Reid to go do god-knows-what sketchy shit. Like, why should you care that he’d ditched you? That he basically traded your presence for a line of coke? Or that he had acted genuinely offended when Chris had assumed you were his girlfriend? Like OKAY I GET IT.

No really—you were fine. Everything was great—

“Hey, watch out.” Rob reached out and gently pulled you toward him, saving you from a soccer ball that would’ve smacked right into your hip (“sorry” came the shout from some drunk guy in the distance).

You looked up at Rob, startled by the close proximity, your cheeks heating up, the warmth of his hands still on your shoulders, his smile, and girl, DO NOT FALL FOR THIS RANDOM GUY RIGHT NOW.

But it was getting really hard not to, because in the following, you two were seriously a great team—and more importantly, he wasn’t sending you any confusing signals like some people.

“Nice game,” he said after sinking the final shot that won you the round.

You just chuckled, your whole body buzzing warm. “You landed most of the shots though.”

Rob smirked, eyes twinkling a little as he looked at you. “Sorry—if I’d been more focused, it would’ve been even more.”

BOIIIIII.

“Nice win,” Topper said as he walked over to your side with Molly. “Up for another round?”

Honestly, you really had to pee… and all that standing around was starting to get exhausting, especially now that the backyard had gotten way more crowded in the last half hour.

Molly seemed to feel the same. “Maybe later, I need a quick breather first.”

A few seconds later, you both found yourselves giggling in the downstairs bathroom.

You were peeing while Molly sat on the edge of the bathtub—your heart pounding, cheeks flushed from the alcohol. Your vision was… well, not trashed exactly, but yeah, you were definitely feeling it.

Shit, but you felt good. Free, open, not like some socially awkward fish anymore.

You and Molly talked about this and that, giggling like two silly, smitten girls over Rob and sharing your mutual suffering about the hell that was senior year.

You felt genuinely happy—thankful for Topper and Molly (and obviously Rob, hihihii), even for Kelce, who’d welcomed you so warmly and actually seemed kinda caring after your coughing fit because of the joint.

You and Molly were about to head back to Topper and Rob when your phone buzzed.

Probably Cara.

“Go ahead, I’ll join you in a minute,” you said to Molly with a smile, then stumbled with a surprised chuckle to the edge of the tub, sitting down, ignoring the sudden funny feeling in your stomach.

Ready to shoot Cara a quick update, your heart skipped a beat when you saw Rafe’s name on your screen. It started beating just a little bit faster as you texted him back.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Rafe shoved his phone back into the pocket of his shorts, jaw clenched, not even bothering to reply to your shitty-ass pic.

Had you really managed to catch some dude named Mickey—or Mikey, or whatever the hell that name you tried to spell was—within the thirty goddamn minutes he’d left you alone? And on top of that, gone into the bathroom with him to—

He cut the thought off with a sharp shake of his head, a frown settling in. Why the fuck did such an image flash in his head again?

Rafe gritted his teeth. He’d only left to deal with that asshole Chris and his loser friends, selling them a few grams (and also snort some lines because why not). He wouldn’t even have left you behind if he didn’t desperately need the cash to meet Barry’s deadline.

Fuck—and there it was again. Another picture, clear as day. You, in that stupidly good-looking outfit tonight, pressed against the bathroom door—

What the actual fuck.

Rafe rubbed his eyes, a heavy, sick feeling sitting in his stomach. Jesus fucking Christ, he needed another line. This shit was getting unhinged.

He lined up a clean stripe of white on the kitchen counter with his phone, ignoring the looks of some bickering bitches, and snorted it off in one go.

Rubbing his nose, he inhaled deep, the familiar kick spreading through his veins like wildfire.

Better.

But then—another image. This time from his own point of view. You in front of him, his pants around his ankles, your pretty lips on—

NO. NO, FUCK THAT. What the actual—like, actually, holy shit.

Rafe’s breathing was heavy now, his heart pounding in his ears, and his brain kept flashing images he couldn’t stop if he tried.

Frustrated and irritated, he ran a hand through his hair, pissed at himself and at the fact that he had no idea where the fuck these thoughts were coming from.

Then he spotted that fucker Reid across the room, chatting up some chick like he wasn’t a walking STD, and the memory hit him—the way that bastard had looked at you earlier when he’d walked into the kitchen. How his eyes had lingered on you. That slimy-ass grin.

The fucking fact that he’d had the balls to do it right in front of Rafe.

Shit, you weren’t Rafe’s fucking girlfriend. Fuck, no—not even close. But the idea that you could’ve been—and that Reid still had had the audacity to look at you like that—lit something vile, something filthy and twisted in Rafe’s gut.

And then it hit him harder: this whole fucking party was filled with greasy assholes like Chris Reid, looking for some poor girl to get laid.

And one of them had probably latched onto you while Rafe had been gone, maybe even fed you drinks, pretended to be all nice and charming just to pull some sleazy shit, and that made Rafe’s blood boil on a whole different level.

You weren’t some cheap party girl who let any random dickhead get handsy. Plus, the way you’d texted Rafe, made clear you weren’t exactly sober.

Fuck no. That thought alone had his jaw locking tight.

And before he even knew what he was doing, before he could stop to question the wild, confusing feeling building inside him, his feet were already moving.

He shoved past sweaty, perfumed, half-drunk bitches and pricks as he stormed out of the kitchen and into the hallway, brows furrowed, pulse hammering.

He came to a halt in front of the downstairs bathroom door, ignoring the group of girls waiting in line, and grabbed the doorknob.

His heart did something weird as it didn’t budge.

“Wait your turn, Cameron,” said some irrelevant chick who wasn’t even worth looking at.

Rafe ignored her—her, and the rising storm inside him over why the fuck he was even doing this—and knocked on the door.

Once. Twice. Four times—

The door creaked open. He lifted his chin, ready to confront the bastard inside but all the tension in his shoulders dropped the moment he saw your face.

Eyes glassy, wide with surprise, still slightly red from the joint, your skin glimmering like it had just been washed, and your lips slightly parted as you met his gaze.

In your breath, he caught Red Bull, beer, and something else.

“Did you puke?” Rafe raised his brows, trying to peer through the crack in the door to make sure—

“Yeah,” you replied with a half-tired smile and a little chuckle. “But I’m good now.”

Jesus Christ.

Rafe felt like a fucking joke. At this point, he was seriously considering if he’d done way too much earlier because why the fuck was he even here right now?

“Cameron, take your girlfriend somewhere else, some of us still gotta use the damn bathroom,” said that same dumb bitch’s voice again.

Rafe glared at her, ready to snap that you weren’t his fucking girlfriend, but before he could say anything, you just let out a chuckling “sorry” toward the bitch and softly stumbled forward.

Toward him.

Your hand, landing briefly on his chest—just enough to steady yourself—sent a sharp jolt of something through him. You gave him an awkward “sorry” and when you immediately backed away, something in Rafe wanted to pull you back but fuck that, holy shit.

And because the bitches in line were already clucking impatiently behind you, Rafe put a hand on your back and said, “Move,” guiding you through the crowded hallway.

“Where to?” you asked, almost too quietly to hear over the pounding bass.

“Kitchen,” Rafe replied dryly.

This was exactly why he didn’t want a damn girl clinging to him. No annoying girlfriend. No clingy chick of any kind.

He hadn’t come to this fucking party to play goddamn babysitter.

Honestly, he could punch himself in the face. He’d only come looking for you so that no dirty asshole had a chance to get handsy. Rafe had some decency. He wasn’t about to leave a drunk girl in the hands of some rando loser.

With a scowl, he placed his hands gently on your shoulders when some other girl almost stumbled right into you. Rafe almost opened his mouth to snap at her but clenched his jaw instead, confused as hell why he was suddenly so on edge.

Once in the less crowded kitchen, he hesitated before letting go of you.

You leaned back against the counter with a tipsy smile—but it faded the moment your eyes met his.

“What’s wrong?” Your voice was nervous, almost apologetic.

A strange pull tugged at Rafe’s chest but he shoved it aside, annoyed, and stepped next to you toward the bottles.

“Why were you alone?” he asked, pouring a shot of vodka.

“I wasn’t,” you replied. “Molly was with me before.”

Molly Crane. That was the name you’d tried to type earlier. Not some fucking Mickey.

Holy shit—was Rafe actually losing it?

He let out an irritated scoff, brows furrowed as he set the bottle down. “Such a good friend, leaving you alone to puke.”

“Funny thing coming from you,” you said with a half-laugh, and Rafe could feel your gaze on him.

He clenched his jaw, then threw back the shot, the bitter taste hitting his tongue and burning all the way down.

Meeting your eyes with a crooked grin, he said, “Yeah? The fuck’s that supposed to mean, huh? You pissed because you couldn’t be alone for thirty minutes? You do realize I’m not your fucking babysitter.”

Your expression shifted, and something about it pulled a hollow feeling straight through his chest.

“I was joking…”

Rafe gritted his teeth, overwhelmed by the mess of confusing shit swarming his head. He ran a hand down his face. He needed to chill the fuck out. Either he’d done too many lines or not enough.

You gently pushed yourself off the counter, a sad smile playing on your lips. “I think I should go find Molly. Don’t want her to worry.”

What about me?

The thought hit him like a fucking truck—crazy, embarrassing, pathetic as fuck—and yet there it was, leaving him almost sober in its wake.

Fuck.

He just didn’t get why you suddenly wanted to get away from him.

Fuck, seriously, what the fuck. Why do I even care?

“Or… did you want something?” you asked hesitantly, a flicker of vulnerability in your voice Rafe didn’t know how to process.

He shook his head, irritated, keeping his mouth shut—because clearly his brain was on some fuckery, and the last thing he needed was to start saying that shit out loud.

Your brows twitched, uncertainty flickering in your eyes. “I just thought... you texted me, asking where I was, and—”

“Ayo, Rafe! Y/N! We were just looking for you.”

Kelce’s voice boomed over the music as he barged into the kitchen with some random dude in tow—

Oh fuck no. Fucking hell no.

Not this fucking asshole.

Stupid fucking grinning Robert Lewis.

Topper’s dumbass surfer buddy who Kelce, for some unknown, brain-dead reason, seemed to worship.

Rafe already wanted to punch him. But instead, he forced a fake-ass smile as Robert came up, hand outstretched for a dap.

“Good to see you, man,” Robert said with that dumb fucking grin. “How you doing?”

Rafe just nodded, subtle shake of the head, corners of his mouth pulled down. “The usual shit.”

Robert laughed like it was the funniest fucking shit he’d heard all night, and the moment his eyes landed on you, Rafe felt a twitch in his fingers—ready to swing on this fucker.

And fucking hell, the way he looked at you. That big-ass smile. That glimmer in his eyes like you two were already familiar which was ridiculous because—

“And you, Y/N?” Robert asked, voice all warm like he gave a shit. “You doing okay? Molly told us you wanted to stay behind.”

What.

The.

Actual.

Fuck.

Rafe thought he’d misheard—his ears were already ringing from the coke and the insanely loud music (fucking Carnival playing for the fourth time tonight), so maybe it was just his brain tripping again.

But the way you looked up at that grinning asshole, eyes all dreamy and soft, a smile so sweet Rafe didn’t even know you had it in you—it felt like someone smashed a baseball bat right into his skull.

“Oh, yeah, no, I’m all good,” you said, a soft chuckle slipping from your lips. “My stomach just freaked out a bit after the beer pong drinks, but I’m good now.”

Funny. Yeah, real fucking funny. You and that douchebag playing beer pong together? Funniest shit Rafe had ever heard.

Kelce laughed. “Ahhh, shit, classic mistake. Weed and alcohol are not the best of friends.”

“My fault,” Robert said with that fake-ass innocent smile. “Should’ve made sure you weren’t drinking all of Topper’s hits.”

Rafe tensed instantly, alarm bells blaring and he didn’t even know why—no, actually, he did know. This fucker had been trying to smooth-talk you while Rafe had been gone, get you drunk, play his little fake-charm game, and wrap you around his goddamn finger.

God, Rafe would love to slam his fist into that smug face right about now. And fucking Topper too, for setting up this whole bullshit game in the first place.

And you? Why the fuck were you falling for this crap? Looking at that loser you’d known for maybe a couple of hours like he was the only guy in the room?

Rafe had spent an entire fucking week with you—every day—for that damn school project, trying to make you feel at ease, and you still hadn’t warmed up to him. But this greasy little fucker? All it took was one night?

Fucking ridiculous.

He didn’t get it. Didn’t understand. Couldn’t make sense of this fucked-up chaos inside him. The rage. The insane thoughts. The way he suddenly wanted—needed—you to look at him the way you just looked at that piece of shit.

FUCK.

What the fuck had Barry mixed into that coke?

And what. the. fuck. was going on with the guys at this damn party that they were looking at you like Rafe wasn’t standing right the fuck there?

Like seriously?!

Rafe never brought girls to parties. And the one fucking time he did—and yeah, okay, it was chill and casual and nothing serious—BUT NONE OF THESE FUCKING IDIOTS KNEW THAT.

NO ONE KNEW YOU WEREN’T RAFE’S HOOKUP OR DATE OR GIRL—AND STILL, THEY HAD THE AUDACITY TO ACT LIKE THAT?

Nah. FUCK THAT.

Rafe wasn’t some fucking merchant bringing girls around to be snatched up by whatever fucker got his hands on you first.

At this point, they were asking to get decked.

And Rafe? He’d seen enough. Let enough of this bullshit slide.

Because you didn’t just show up here. You were brought. Invited.

By him.

And if nobody seemed to fucking get that, then it was about damn time he’d change that.

So when Kelce announced a game of Truth or Dare starting in the living room, Rafe didn’t back out despite how much he hated that childish-ass game with every fiber of his being.

Because if this meant he could wipe the stupid fucking smile off Robert Lewis’ face, and shut down every other asshole at this party who thought tonight was their chance to piss him off—he’d gladly take part.

“Aight, party people, get your asses into the living room then”, Kelce said, clasping his hands.

Rafe glanced at you for a second, watching the way you looked at douchebag Robert… the way that fucker placed his hand on your back, leading you out of the kitchen toward the game.

Yeah. That guy? Rafe was fucking him over tonight.

Because he could just about tolerate that loser hanging around Kelce and Topper—Topper had been pissing him off lately anyway, and Kelce was like some dumb puppy always chasing new people—but you?

No fucking way was Rafe letting that wannabe surfer douche try anything with the girl he had brought.

Didn’t matter that you weren’t his girl or whatever.

No, it was about the fucking principle. About the fact that this prick even thought he could lean that far into Rafe’s zone.

And somehow, the thought of how you’d cling to him after he’d chased off Fuckhead Lewis—Rafe being the one you’d gaze at so smiley and sweet—left him with a buzzing feeling in his chest that hit almost as good as the high from a line.

"You coming, dude?" Kelce asked, putting a hand on Rafe's shoulder, a drunk grin on his stupid face.

Funny enough, Rafe didn't push him away because he realized that idiot might just be the key to fucking Lewis over.

So all he said in response was, "Yeah, yeah, sure". A crooked smile appeared on his lips. "Just wanna know if you'd be down to score some extra baggie."

Kelce's shitty grin was answer enough.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- P R E V I O U S | N E X T ->

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

T A G L I S T F O R M (taglist for this series is CLOSED but you can sign up for my other stuff through this link)

@ursogorgeous13 @my-name-is-baby @moneybaby07 @jjasmiineee @sttaejoon-blog @vogueprincess @princesspeaxhh @wtfisastiles @wefelldowntherabbithole13 @rafes4 @kathryn-maraudersversion @wuluhwuhmaster @torturedtypewritersdept @sfotiegiuls @ltristessedureratoujours @stoned-writer @lunaleah @akobx @cokewithcameron @b00klvrs @rafesdrew @mattyskies @yktayy9669 @beabafreakbee @c1gsafterwhat @drewstarkeyswife-7 @wtfdudesblog @akobx @wintercrows @miaaaoa @setmefreemyg @pogueprincesa @chimchimjiminie16 @drewstarkeysrightarm @wtfdudesblog @wolfstarsimpxx @emmiesummers @brycesfav @ayy1234567 @rgeraldg @stanseventeen @louvrgirl @chaoticromantic @drewstarkeysrealwife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @psychicnatural @mysticbby2009 @oreocheescake-12 @miniiminie @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @drewstarkeyywife

362 notes · View notes

hotvintagepoll · 6 months ago

Note

I just want to say, a) love your work, thanks for running a delightful blog, I appreciate all the new-to-me vintage star power I've been exposed to…and b) every. single. time I read "It is vintage times." in the Dracula casting posts, I crack up. Pure joy.

this ask is old but thank you! the dracula polls are done for now, but here's one last poll as a farewell bite.

this is a poll for a movie that doesn't exist.

It is vintage times. The powers that be have finished their remake of the classic vampire novel Dracula, with you—the hvp electorate—in charge of the casting. in an amazing show of inter-studio solidarity, Hollywood’s most elite hotties came together to star in a movie that will not soon be forgotten.

Here is the cast list.

Jonathan Harker—Jimmy Stewart

Count Dracula—Gloria Holden

The Old Woman—Martita Hunt

Mina Murray—Setsuko Hara

Lucy Westenra—Judy Garland

The Three Voluptuous Women—Betty Grable, Marilyn Monroe, and Lauren Bacall

The Agonized Mother—Mary Philbin

Dr. Jack Seward—Vincent Price

Quincey P. Morris—Toshiro Mifune

Arthur Holmwood—Sidney Poitier

R.M. Renfield—Conrad Veidt

The Captain of the Demeter—Omar Sharif

The First Mate of the Demeter—Leonard Nimoy

Mr. Swales—Ed Wynn

The Correspondent for The Daily Graph—Ethel Waters

Dracula in dog form—Frank Oz with a puppet

Sister Agatha—Angela Lansbury

Mrs. Westenra—Gladys Cooper

Dracula's solicitors—Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee

Dr. Van Helsing—Orson Welles

Mr. Hawkins—Donald Meek

Thomas Bilder, zookeeper—Lon Chaney Jr.

Thomas Bilder's wife—Elsa Lanchester

The Reporter from the Pall Mall Gazette—Hattie McDaniel

Patrick Hennessey M. D., M. R. C. S. L. K. Q. C. P. I.—George Takei

Mr. Marquand, the Westenras' solicitor—Gregory Peck

The obsequious undertaker—Tura Satana

The Cockneys from the carrier's cart—Wilkins and Wontkins

The beautiful woman in Piccadilly—Dorothy Dandridge

#silly times #dracula casting #minis #hotvintagepoll #dracula daily #farewell beautiful cast :')#(we never got around to casting the scottish sailor but i think i'm just giving that to finlay currie)

407 notes · View notes

cosmosluckycharms · 4 months ago

Text

Bug like angel

incorrect quotes

(mostly damian + peni + reader)

spider!reader: damian ain’t the problem this year.

peni: When are you gonna get it? damian is ALWAYS the problem.

peni, in a high voice, holding barbie: hey ken! I was thinking about going back to school and starting a career!

damian, in a deep voice, holding ken: nonsense, barbie. you’re staying home and having my kids

spider!reader: what the fuck are you guys doing?

peni: playing systemic oppression

spider!reader: So, damian is no longer allowed to take the trash out at night.

peni: Why?

spider!reader: Because I've caught him trying to train raccoons to fight five times in a row.

damian, arms crossed and pouting: You'll be thanking me when the third raccoon battalion saves your ass.

spider!reader: The results are in, I’m afraid you have updog…

damian: What’s updog?

spider!reader: peni! Get in here, I told you I could do it!

peni, reading the newspaper: Huh. Did you know Nickelodeon opened a hotel?

spider!reader: Yeah, I went there once. There was a dead squirrel in the pool and I made damian cry by telling him it was the real Sandy.

peni: Can I get a waffle?

spider!reader and damian: *fighting and yelling at each other*

peni: Can I p l e a s e get a waffle?

peni: You are irrationally angry 365 days a year.

damian: Well, that’s just your personal opinion, I don’t have anger issues. Do you guys think I have anger issues?

spider!reader: Well, I wouldn’t really call it an issue. An issue is something you can fix.

damian: *running towards spider!reader with open arms*

spider!reader: *moves out of the way*

damian: Hey, why'd you move?!

spider!reader: I thought you were going to attack me.

damian: I was going to hug you!

spider!reader: Why would you hug me?

damian: WHY WOULD I ATTACK YOU!?

spider!reader: Today, peni said a swear word, so damian said that he was going to wash peni's mouth out with soap. peni replied, “It’s okay, I like the taste of soap”. Turns out, shes been putting soap on her lips to blow bubbles.

spider!reader, in peni’s window: I thought I’d find you here!

damian, climbing past spider!reader: WE COULD HAVE USED THE DOOR-

spider!reader, driving damian and peni: So how was your day?

peni: We almost got surprise adopted!

spider!reader: What?

damian: We almost got kidnapped.

spider!reader: Oh, okay.

spider!reader: *slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?!

peni: damian and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by and honked at us

spider!reader: *Sighing* What did damian do?

peni: he chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and...

damian: Who wants a steering wheel?

damian: I'm not that stupid!

spider!reader: damian, you literally ate the wax from a babybel.

damian: PENI TOLD ME IT WAS EDIBLE!

spider!reader: I know you snuck out last night, damian.

peni: Play dumb!

damian: Who's damian?

peni: NOT THAT DUMB!!!

spider!reader: damian, keep an eye on peni today. shes going to say something to the wrong person and get punched.

damian: Sure, I’d love to see peni get punched.

spider!reader: Try again.

damian, sighing: I will stop peni from getting punched.

spider!reader: I really like this whole ‘good guy, bad guy’ thing you guys have going on.

damian: It’s not an act, it’s just that I’m mean and peni isn’t

damian: *sneaking in through their window*

spider!reader: *turning in her chair and flicking the light one* You want to tell me where you've been all night?

damian: I was with peni?

peni: *turning in her chair* Wanna try again?

peni: What time is it?

spider!reader: I don’t know, pass me that saxaphone and we’ll find out

spider!reader: *BLASTS the saxaphone*

damian: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXAPHONE AT TWO IN THE FUCKING MORNING

spider!reader: It’s 2 am

damian: Do you think different paints have different tastes?

spider!reader: They do.

peni: ...Why did you say that with such certainty?

spider!reader, talking about peni: Is this a friend of yours, damian?

damian: Kind of? Not really. shes in my life and there's nothing I can do about it.

spider!reader: peni, gather the others. We need to have another damian-is-doing-something-stupid-again-and-we-have-to-stop-them-before-he-hurts-someone convention.

spider!reader: The first time I ever got upset in front of damian, he put his arms around me and it was so awkward that I had to ask them if he was hugging me or reaching for something on the shelf behind me.

damian: I was doing both, for your information.

peni: The first time damian hugged me, it was such a disaster we didn’t make eye contact for, like, a week after.

more otw

dampen ily sillies

#spider bat!reader #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #bruce wayne x daughter reader #platonic batfam #damian x reader #damipen #damian al ghul #damian wayne #peni parker #spider reader #incorrect quotes #dc comics #dcu #dc universe

252 notes · View notes

jazeswhbhaven · 2 months ago

Text

A Lazy Man's Body Pillow | Belphegor Attacker | Summary | SPOILERS

Hey y'all! Like the fancy thing I did with the above banner? Ngl the hardest part was compressing the damn thing because I apparently made it way to fucking large lol But anyways, it seems this time around a lot of y'all were able to get his card which shows some promise that the gacha rates have changed? Maybe?? We'll seeeeeeee

Usually I do the entire "summary then screenshot" thing but I realized that format works better for exclusive cards than ones we're gonna see in 3 months. So we're back to my, "screenshots with commentary" format. Let's hope I can do this with only 29 screenshots 😭

Let's kick it off with

So it seems that MC has won some kind of "lottery", but there's no foolin' MC when it's very blantantly written on the back of the ticket that the host Kingdom is Niflheim and it didn't take much for Beleth to admit that he did some slick shit just so he could go on....

checks notes

v a c a t i o n .

Now, I love Beleth. Love me some him. But I'll be damned if he sets me up randomly to babysit his lazy ass King/Husband (I don't make the rules). But oh well we're fucking here, would of been nice if you, idk just asked me, Beleth 💀

So we get some lore about how Niflheim's palace works! We were told that it was militaristic, cutthroat and what not. Turns out it's ran like a huge office, everyone pushing paperwork, moving around boxes, they even have departments and they have to get Belphie's approval of things.

It has me wondering honestly why they're so busy? Like in each country I've noticed there's paperwork to file or sign and I'm just like please don't let Hell be like this if it exists because I'd cry like wtf I died to leave this shit on Earth not relive it again??? lol

But what I really noticed is that Niflheim has these cute demon cats similar to Harumon running around and earning their keep. I wish my cats could get a job and help with these bills they rack up.

there goes my baby......

AHEM

I mean...hi, hello here to work part-time because I can't be bothered to work full-time because idk unless you want me to work full-time where I'm your secretary 😏😏😏

So after Belphie pretty much half-assed explained where the breakroom and offices are in the palace, here's Vassago! Though he seems like he's pretty chill, I can sense he's actually annoyed that he has to monitor MC and "train" them. It reminds me of starting a new job and the mentor they set you up with is either overly excited or basically acts as if they don't want to be there. Or you get that rare one who's happy as fuck to mentor you because that means they don't have to do what they were normally doing.

Also, it seems that tension between Agares/Vassago and the Niflheim crew is evident. He respects Beleth and Belphegor's titles but when it comes to loyalty it's always gonna be to Agares.

FOR NOW THO

And during this little interaction, Belphie gets tired of them talking so much so he pretty much yeets MC's clothes off. No one cares though because they're too busy working.

Here is the first instance of Belphie not caring about MC's feelings or comfort. I imagine most folks would not just wanna be striped naked in a epicenter of busy office workers. All because....we were talking too much? 😭 P L E A S E

I won't lie though, separating myself from MC-

if that man wanted to shut me up, this is way to do it 💀

Vassago tellin' it like it is. "Ain't nobody said nothin' 'bout y'all bein' treated like guests" had me cackling because he basically said "Bitch you thought...."

Vassago got the time. Don't mess with him.

So now we're back to MC being naked, and ofc they hate it so they ask for clothes. The only thing available to fit them is a maid uniform (I'll showcase both fits for fem and masc mc in another post) because that's what Belphie likes.

freak

I know somethin' else that will fit real nice too, *sips tea*

with his smug ass lookin' face.

And it's funnier because if you remember in Levi's maid card...he's the one that gave him the maid hentai book in the first place so we already know why he likes that maid outfit....

also....notice how no one else has to wear it?

this is on purposssseeeeeeeeeeee

And now we get to the part where Belphie leans on MC asking for them to carry him. I always wondered if we could carry him??? I imagine devils are way heavier and the gravity works differently in Hell, like maybe a lot of things are heavier than usual? Or maybe lighter? In this universe Hell seems to be in a completely different realm/planet than Earth instead of that "underground" theory.

With that being said, I'm pretty sure we're able to carry him, but he's still fucking heavy since the description says MC was five times slower than Vassago. And on top of that he's telling MC where to go...which is the least he can do considering they can't keep up with Vassago lol

I also like the little attitude he gets if you get mouthy with him. But the thing about it, is that once again MC yields to it 😭 like I wanna know what happens if you just dropped him on the floor 💀

Now we've made it to where MC has reached a dining room. Vassago in so little words said that MC was going to be feeding Belphie, and how to be a perfect subordinate. We even get a cameo from Agares, and Vassago immediately goes into servant mode showing MC how it's done.

And then-

I'm sorry y'all but I lost it when he started doing this....

First....feeding him, making sure his glass is full and then he pretty much starts fingering me during????? AND SAYS ITS WARM AND PERFECT TO TAKE A NAP BETWEEN YOUR THIGHS HELLO???

I fear I would crumble

A funny part though is that MC tried to protest, and Vassago was like don't you fucking dare >__> because he instructed them to only speak when spoken to lol

I'm enjoying Vassago rn because he really is that guy. Like don't make his job harder than it needs to be and he doesn't have to chide as much.

And this really shows when MC is told to strip naked and clean the stairs, no underwear either????

Vassago literally says that's MC's job as a maid, and Belphie was no help, basically only stating to take off their clothes and clean the stairs.

damn we strict here ain't we?

I'd like to pause and talk about MC's dynamic with Belphie real quick. Clearly, Belphie's way of interacting with MC is that they are simply just someone to clean, cater, and do what he says just like the rest of his subordinates around him. There's no special treatment, no favor, no anything. For once we get to see a different perspective of how Belphie treats them versus any one else. Satan, Mammon, Lucifer, not even Leviathan would make MC clean their palace naked. Asmo? Well...the only reason they'd be naked is...lol I believe Belphie is actually the only King that doesn't show MC any special bias. I mean even Beleth pretty much skiddadled the fuck outta there once it was clear that MC couldn't leave and he was officially on vacay. And I can understand exactly why....this is how things run in Niflheim and in the event the devils of this region were even thrilled to get a day off if Belphie won the contest. NOW compared to how he acted toward MC when he wins the contest versus now, could very much have to do with the circumstance, and tbh it could of happened before or after or this is a completely different timeline altogether. If y'all remember Beel's selfie card, he treated MC very poorly as if he had no idea who they were and even belittled them for a "lack of experience". Certainly though, that was probably a "clone" of his or it was the real Beel and he just hadn't met MC yet prior to.

Going back to Belphie's card though...and MC cleaning the stairs naked....we get another cameo....

DRE IN THE HOUSEEEEE

So yeah ofc he didn't care MC was there naked, he literally can't see them. But I'm pretty sure he's aware they are there on the stairs since he walked past them no problem.

I laughed here because MC's thigh sweat or pre-cum whatever the hell it was dripped on the floor and Dre was like 🤨🤨🤷‍♀️ and just left. He does NAWT careeeeee lmao

If we're being honest he probably smelled them too. But as per usual he's got his mind on other things. No time for whatever foolishness is goin' on here.

Also, to mention that MC says that they felt putting on the maid outfit rewired something in their brain to where even though they are embarrassedthey still wanted to do whatever Belphie ordered them to do.

imma be honest, for me it would be because i'm tryna get that dick so yeah i'll listen....he already stuck his fingers in the coochie so let's gooooooooooo

And Belphie does more shit that I like....because he play around too much.

-While getting him dressed, he had a hard on just out and about -MC was being told be focused and silent while serving tea and he just comes up and grabs them in their chest to get them to make a noise

LIEK STOP PLAYIN' WITH ME BRO I WILL LITERALLY just do nothing and let you do it I'm weak just please keep touching me.

Bathin was concerned about MC being there, and Gusion clocked MC's ass and was like "Yeah you like this shit don't you?"

He claims it's because there's always patterns he can read where can tell immediately if someone is "that type" that claims they hate something but they really like it.

he would have clocked me on a lot things then because damn

"Ha, caught yo ass." 💀💀💀💀💀💀

But then both he and Bathin realize quickly that this is all a roleplay to Belphie based off the maid hentai series he owns. So remember what I said earlier? Yup it's confirmed...he's really just doin' this shit on purpose to fulfill the fantasies of one of his favorite series.

It has me wondering.....how many other series he would play out and how many cosplay outfits he has for that playtime....

Belphie a freak and I like it.

Hol' up, how we get here???

Glad to tell y'all.

Vassago came up in the hallway, to much of Gusion and Bathin's distaste...and told MC the rules of putting Belphie to sleep. Bathin and Gusion in so little words told MC that Beleth is really the only one who can deal with Belphie's horrible sleeping habits and "good luck with that". At 10 pm exactly, everyone locked their doors in the entire palace.....

literally me if I were MC because what the hell is going on.....

So there is MC, taking out their notebook to write down what Belphie does in his sleep, only to then doze off because they're rightfully tired...and then bam there's Belphie jackin' it in front of them.

NOW ME y'all already know what time it would be.

locked in, mouth wide open, ready to serve customer service. *plays cupcakke songs in the background*

So our boy is a leaker, and for this part here, MC is basically sitting there in the dim light watching him stroke himself and he's like half-awake. The way that it's described that the room is hot, smells like him, and MC is sweating has me being like "damn probs humid as fuck in that room but aight"

And then...Belphie suddenly realizes that MC is in the room with him. And because of that now all hell has broke loose.

Okay well you ain't gotta ask me twice, I'll spread whatever hole I have available sir.

YESSIIIRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

cumhole, cumslut, cumdumpster, whatever you need I'm available 24 hours for ya.

He even tells MC to swallow it....like????? he even threatened to get Vassago to come in if MC kept hesitating and I'm just imagining a pissed off Vassago coming in being like "Look bitch if you don't get this shit right, it's bad enough I have to come in here...." 💀💀💀💀

This was right after he said he would make sure MC had something to put down in that journal.......

He starts pushing MC outside the room, in his half-dazed state....which I'm like wait this is like a sleepwalking wet dream omg or....a play on sonophilia where you're fucking but still asleep. (which I've written beforeeeeeee with Amon! and for a different fandom, Nanami actually from JJK)

But anyways, we get some lore with how Belphie usually is at night time. He wanders around the halls of the palace ranting like he's drunk, or thinking there's an angel going around, just basically causing trouble and everyone locks themselves up during his bad sleep habits. I imagine he does this every goddamn night so that's why everyone is shut in their offices at 10pm.

Gusion is concerned about working overtime and getting off early, Bathin is planning to use Harumon to move MC somewhere else if it gets bad, and then there's Vassago.....thinking about how he's going to give Agares ripe oranges in the morning😭

Bless him.

MC asked how far they were going, Belphie stops and starts making out with them....love me a man who doesn't care that his spunk is all in your mouth and tongues you down like he did.

f u c k

Now this is him suckin' on some titties....and I'm just like MISSED OPPORTUNITY TO MAKE HIM AN EATER RIGHT NOW LIKE???? MOVE YA HEAD LOWER???????

He'd be such a lazy ass with eating you out or giving head but at least he'd do it because he's half asleep and horny as fuck.

Tellin' MC they can't clean right, they can't smile right or doing anything correct but got them bent over and losing their mind.

these backshots about to go crazy

And like??? I'm not even mad at how he's doing this....dude has a warped idea of what a maid is based on his favorite series and he's playing that out foreal.

And here, his philia came into play. He says that MC tryin' hard to work givin' it their all and going above and beyond turns him on more than anything else in the world. And I'm just like oh....so that's what this is like...

ooooo weeeee

Yes'm. I know, lemme show youuuuuuuuu 💖💕🥴🥴😌

he's so hot I can't stand him y'all

I levitated.....

this was after MC begging him to put his dick in, and him asking why they were begging....and hfuankjxnf,ajnxfkanlf

DAMN HIM

HELP

And then he told MC to stable themselves cause they were movin' too much. After, MC grounds themselves and he starts fucking them FASTER and deeper

Like.....

He even starts smackin' their ass and telling them to talk cause he likes it, but he wouldn't be listening. (shit, like I'll ramble and moan all day if he's drillin' how he was...)

And BITCH

he told them to stop ordering him around, pulled that thang out said that HE was the master and slipped it right back in. WHEN I TELL YOU SOMETHIN'

that shit was hot as fuck and I need him

GAWD THAT FUCKING FACE FUCK

AND he was that focused and thrusting with effort? PHEW I just know those backshots were astronomical

After that he has MC fuck themselves on him...and then when MC was losing themselves he started smacking their ass again, going faster, and when I tell you he rode that orgasm out to the end of time?

he wore himself and mc out

I'm tellin' y'all I needed a cigarette, I need a drink, I needed an edible SOMETHING after reading that because phew.

I don't really bother to self-insert in most otomes and stories, but during this spice? I had to and it was an experience.

Now going to the climaxxxx

Belphie is all cute bein' like "carry me darlin'" and just falls asleep on top of MC and MC just falls asleep naked on the floor with him. They end up in Belphie's room in his bed and Beleth is there just smilin' and shit.

He explains that he knows Belphie's sleep schedule right down to the days and that last night happened to be one of his "relief" nights meaning that he has a cycle. And usually Beleth just knocks him out, which sounds like he punches him?

Now, I've noticed here that PB doesn't really do the whole "confirming cxc content" but I'm gonna go a whim and assume that Beleth does in fact fuck Belphegor sometimes during these relief nights. Beleth also has special conditions when it comes to sex so the punching Belphie to sleep method also makes sense.

Then, Belphie does a cute thing and pulls MC in like a pillow and says he knows they aren't a pillow because none of them are as nice as MC's body so there was no need to explain nothin' to him.

He's super adorable when he's not being a little shit, huh?

AND THAT'S THE END FOLKS!

Overall Score (unbiased): 9.5/10!

This score is because the smut writing really has gotten a little better since the beginning of this game. Now others will have different opinions on this, but I at least noticed some improvements on that front. Also, because I just didn't really care for MC having to be run ragged like they were and Beleth just yeeting them to the void like that. But oh well, it just shows that not every devil or fallen angel we meet is gonna be biased to treating MC a certain way and that within itself is refreshing.

Now when it comes to self-insert purposes, I suspect that the majority would not like like Belphie treats MC at all. This is understandable, but this is also part of his character that I like. Pretty much everyone is on the same level to him in terms of usefulness and that's that. You gotta work hard to earn his favor, and clearly that seems to work out toward the end when he's snuggling up to MC like he is.

Also when you think about it, a niche roleplay based off your fave series can only be used with someone you particularly like, which means he felt that MC would fit this role instead of one of his subordinates, and he puts MC on the same level as Beleth because I'm very certain he has Beleth do some cosplay shit with him.

Plus Beleth would look bangin' in a maid costume.

Now if y'all want my BIASED opinion, this card is 100+/10 because I liked Belphie doing his weird shit during the maid thing, him barking orders that were half-assed or sometimes direct, and then the fingering under the table thing....

i'm sorry that just does something to me.

plus...all of this...the theme and the superiority thing reminds me of Sukuna from JJK and he would definitely humiliate you too just like this for amusement.....and idk I'm a Sukuna stan so...😩

The next post will be about his likability chats, a link to peek at his adore mode, and I'll be talking about his date story! So stay tuned. Again thank y'all for any interactions, reading my rambles and summaries and I hope you enjoyed his card like I did ^^ -yourlovelyadmin Jaze(✿◡‿◡)

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb belphegor #whb spoilers #whb screencaps #whb react #jazewhbreacts🖤

225 notes · View notes

chlorinecake · 1 year ago

Note

It's sad you haven't written that much for sunoo

𐙚 — 𝐜𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 | 𝐤.𝐬𝐧

▹ PAIRING: boyfriend ! sunoo x girlfriend ! reader

▹ SUMMARY: While on a picnic date with your boyfriend in honor of your one year anniversary together, things take an unexpected turn as one simple touch leads to another...

▹ WARNINGS: TOUCH DEPRIVED SUNOO who can't help but leave marks all over your neck and thighs, fluff mixed with super messy smut, fingering + oral (f. r), handjob, protected sex (love that for them), tit and spit play, exhibitionism, mentions of food

▹ WORD COUNT: 2.5k

“You brought ice cream to our picnic date in the summer?”

“Yes... and you wrote me a love letter,” Sunoo replied frankly, the gentle park breeze blowing his wavy bangs to the side of his face slightly... “of course I appreciate the gesture, baby, but why go through all that trouble of trying to hide it from me?”

His question made a memory resurface in the back of your mind.

One from earlier this morning when you threw a pillow at his face in an attempt to sneak away with the letter undetected.

Not one of your best moments, you'll admit, but he took it lightly anyways, laughing off the confusion your strange behavior brought about...

“You weren’t supposed to come back home til tomorrow, Sunoo, and I wanted to surprise you…” your voice trailed off just as your boyfriend rested his hand at your thigh, caressing the flesh in a soothing manner…

“I wanted to make it more special,” you went on, feeling your heart flutter slightly at the way he suddenly tilted his head at you, almost as if cooing at your worried confession.

“____… what could be more special than a letter with your sweet kisses all over it?” Sunoo asked, gaze falling to your lips for a second before his eyes flicked back up, displaying his comforting smile.

“Just open it already,” you whined playfully, making your boyfriend giggle a bit at your impatience.

“Wait, I wanna guess what’s inside first!” He paused excitedly, looking to the clouds as he sat in thought…

“Hmm,” Sunoo hummed, feeling through the envelope with his fingers to see if it'd give him any clues… “are these... condoms?!!”

“What!? No! Why would I give you such a thing!?” You laughed out loud, giving the park a brief scan to see if anyone was around to have heard your boyfriend's wild revelation.

“Relax, ____... nobody’s watching the romantic couple on their picnic date,” Sunoo reassured with a light-hearted chuckle, running his hand a little higher on your thigh this time, making your breath hitch slightly.

What was getting into him today?...

“Righttt... so it’s just us and the trees now, huh?” You asked sarcastically, just as a random hiker came walking up the trail a few feet behind you two.

“Yup!” Sunoo answered confidently, letting his touch leave your skin, “just us, the trees... and no protection…”

Tear ˎˊ˗ ...

Sunoo tore open the triangular flap that once sealed the envelope, opening the paper-pocket to reveal a set of tiny squares poking back at him…

“Wow,” his voice started, a feigned shock to his tone, “you must really wanna take me raw after this…”

“Oh my God, you’re being such a slut today,” you whisper-yelled, smacking his shoulder playfully before taking the envelope from his grasp, shaking out the contents into his open palm.

“They’re P o l a r o i d s,” you enunciated slowly, “of us, baby...” you continued with a smile, watching as he brought each photo to his face, one by one to examine them...

“Aww,” Sunoo pouted, feeling his own heart warm up at the burst of memories. “Thank you, love… this is such a sweet anniversary gift,” he said, leaning forward to hug you, his weight accidentally overtaking you to the point where your back fell against the picnic mat with a soft thud.

It wasn't unusual for Sunoo to underestimate his strength, especially whenever he got excited and wanted to show you his affection... still, it's something that he always felt bad about doing...

“____, I'm so sorry! I didn’t mean to...” your boyfriend's initially apologetic voice trailed off, all thanks to the mistakably erotic sound that slipped past your lips while caged beneath him.

“S-Sunoo… it's okay,” you stammered nervously, feeling his thigh brush up against your core as he adjusted him position, a small wet spot from your soaked panties now marking his jeans.

You couldn't think of anything to say, especially not with the way your sundress was hiked up now, putting your hips and bottom on full display.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you were met with the wet sight yourself now, Sunoo’s flexed thigh doing nothing but make things worse for the ache growing inside you...

“T-that's not what I think it is... right?”

Your boyfriend's voice came out quietly as a delayed silence followed right after, his eyes staying fixed on you as you raised to sit on your knees now.

You put a hand to his chest, pushing his back against the picnic mat now before leaning on top of him and whispering, “Stop staring and just kiss me already…”

Sunoo almost couldn't believe those words had left your mouth so smoothly, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat with anticipation as his eyes fell back to your lips.

Your gorgeous, kissable lips...

“And if anyone sees us?” He asked with a slight rasp to his voice, eyes sparkling beneath the sunlight as you traced the side of his face with a finger...

“Then they can cry about it…”

That's all it took before you two started kissing, both of your eyes fluttering shut as gentle sounds of pleasure were exchanged by the tips of your tongues.

You felt one of his hands find the side of your face and drift down to your neck, his touch gripping just enough at your throat for the pressure to be noticeable, but not overwhelming.

“Been wanting to do this since we got here,” Sunoo groaned, a little weak yet heavy at the end as you broke away from the kiss, meeting his eyes with your own lovestruck ones as you noticed his touch wandered lower, pulling your sundress over the curve of your hips again, tugging at your panties.

“Wanna get these off of you so bad, baby,” your boyfriend said breathlessly, your legs wasted no time in moving just enough for him to slip your panties down and toss them.

“Much better,” you hummed, letting your lips find his again in an even more hungry kiss than before as you felt his fingers ghost over your folds, circling your clit in a way that had you twitching almost instantly.

Something about the way he kissed you in this moment was so raw and greedy, a bit of spit dribbling down the side of both your mouths, only for you two to take turns licking it back up with your tongues.

And he was gathering so much of your slick on his fingers, too, making your clit throb with need as he kept toying with it, your hips subconsciously rocking against his fingers as you grew closer and closer.

“You're making such a mess of me, Sunoo,” you said in between kissing him, his mouth traveling to your neck where he sucked even harder against your flesh, groaning against your skin.

“Can't help it when you taste so sweet, love,” is all he managed to say before rolling you over on your back and taking dominance again, your body being sprawled out face-up on the picnic mat as he started to pepper kisses down from your jaw, to your tits, before finally reaching your swollen cunt.

You couldn't help but close your thighs around his head, even though it was only a matter of time before he forced them open again, taking a break to finger your pussy while marking the expanse of your thighs, holding intense eye contact with you the entire time.

“Could play with your pussy all day, baby,” he mumbled against you, moving from your thigh to lick a stripe up the middle of your core, “might have to beg me to stop...”

“F-fuck,” you cried out, arching your back at the way your core trembled thanks to his skilled fingers curling inside you, “I'm so close, baby...”

“Yeah?” He asks breathlessly, looking you straight in the eye again while still fucking you with his digits, “gonna cream on my fingers, baby?... clench that pretty pussy as you cum for me?”

A string of desperate yes's spilled from your lips only to get caught in your throat, your teary eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt yourself release from the inside out, shaking from the wave of pleasure that washed over you.

“That's it baby... let it all out,” Sunoo cooed, fingers not ceasing in fucking your hole until you reached your hand down to stop his wrist from moving.

Sunoo just stared at you for a second... and even though he knew you hated when he did that, he couldn't help it. You just looked so beautiful to him right now. Cheeks a flushed hue from your orgasm, covered in his marks from your chest to your thighs...

Using his free hand, Sunoo reach for the picnic basket, digging under a few things before pulling out a shiny gold package.

A condom.

“Babe, you... you planned this?” You asked with a glint of amusement to your voice, body still moving in slow-motion as you recovered from your first orgasm.

“Hey, don't judge me,” he smiled softly, tossing the condom in the middle of you two as he got started with unbuckling his pants, “you can put it on me, if you like...”

Timidly, you crawled towards your boyfriend on all fours, thankful to God that you didn't flinch once his dick sprung out from the confines of his boxers, nearly hitting you in the face given how hard it was.

Still, there was something about the subtle look of shock on your face that made Sunoo feel good about himself, reaching out a hand to caress your head as you tried opening the package with your nails.

“Just use your teeth, love,” Sunoo suggested, just as you took the plastic in your mouth, tearing it away with ease.

Pulling out the ring of rubber, you aligned it over his tip first, sliding it down in a stroking motion.

It doesn't take long before you have the whole condom slid down his shaft, but your ministrations don't stop there.

You kept pumping him in long, drawn out movements, experimenting with pressures and slightly escalating the speed with each stroke.

And it didn’t take long before he started moaning all loud and shamelessly, biting his lip with slightly screwed brows as you continued to jerk his cock in your hand, caressing his thigh with your free hand to help him relax.

“Sh-shit,” Sunoo cursed beneath his breath, eyes glued to the way you fisting his length, your hickey-stained cleavage coming into view as your sundress fell further down your shoulders with gravity.

The whole sight was just so intoxicating to him, especially coupled with the sensation of your fingers wrapped around him.

It was only a matter of time before you had him coming undone, filling the condom with his load as you started to stroke him more slowly now, somehow craving his dick even more.

He was a panting mess, pretty chest heaving beneath his shirt as you sat up on your knees now, crawling over to straddle his lap.

His lust-ridden eyes watched you the entire time, too, pants still lazily hanging around his thighs as you untied the bow keeping the top of your sundress together, revealing almost your full chest to him.

He didn’t hesitate to start groping your chest, squeezing the soft flesh in his hands as you humped against his lap, sliding your slick folds over his wrapped dick and shivering from the returned stimulation.

You moaned at his actions, clinging onto your boyfriend’s shirt at the sudden feeling of his tip prodding at your entrance.

“God, I need to be inside you so bad, ____... need to feel you taking me nice and slow...” Sunoo practically mewled against your lips, the desperation of words making your pussy clench around nothing.

You let your hips grind against his length even faster now, despite how you both were extremely sensitive at this point.

You didn’t expect one fleeting kiss to get you here… a slimy, moaning mess in your boyfriend's lap all in the middle of nature… but you were too far gone to turn back now, and besides… something about the risk of being caught like this was a turn on for you, anyways…

Reaching down for his dick, you let the head find your hole again before slowly feeling him slide past your ridged walls, shaky sighs coming from both your lips now…

You two stayed like that for a few moments, too, simply basking in each other’s closeness until you got ready to move, Sunoo’s delicate hands resting at your hips, eventually guiding your speed.

“S-Sunoo,” you started weakly, thighs trembling at the way his tip grazed your sweet spot as he rocked you back and forth against him, “we’re not gonna last very long in a state like this…”

Your sultry words sounded like fuzz in his brain for a second, his body being too pleasure drunk to focus on anything other than the way your perfect pussy was taking him.

You kept your hands secure at his shoulders, grinding against him the best your tired legs could manage as his lips connected to the skin below your ear, speaking the feathery words: “Might as well make it worth it, then…”

That's when your boyfriend let his back fall against the picnic mat, releasing his grip from your hips, only to find your hands instead, connecting you both by your latticed fingers.

His pelvis snapped up to help you both reach your highs faster, your chest heaving with emotions as you gasped at the feeling of his cock plunging inside you so well, a mere matter of seconds passing before your orgasms hit you both like a crashing wave.

Sweet mmm's and ahh's of pleasure left both your squirming bodies, Sunoo's thighs twitching beneath you as your walls clenched down on his length, your climax taking it's sweet time to leave you.

You felt his cum slowly fill up the condom from inside you, gentle pants escaping his swollen lips as your hands stayed intertwined, eyes slightly teary beneath the shining sun.

“I can't believe we just did that in public,” you sighed, lifting your hips from his to free yourself from the stimulation, helping yourself to removing the now filled rubber from your boyfriend's dick and tossing it in a picnic napkin.

Sunoo smiled at your choice of words before sitting back up to readjust his pants, still feeling a bit wobbly in his movements after everything that just happened.

“And I'm more than open to doing this again,” he said, crawling towards you on the mat to help re-tie the bow at the top of your dress, “… and again, and again, and again...”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you chuckled with a smile, watching his hands finish up each bow before he creating a small distance between you, placing the picnic basket in the center of the mat and flipping open it's lid, his hair slightly disheveled as he asked, “In the mood for some ice cream soup?”

AUTHOR’S NOTE 𐙚 | To the anon at the very top of this post, I hope you enjoyed what I came up for with for everyone’s favorite sunny boy !! That is, if you ever happen to cross paths with my blog again >< !!

TAGLIST 𐙚 | @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @wonbinisbabygurl @addictedtohobi @watamotee33 @ot7sevenlvr + link to my enhypen bookshelf if you’re interested !!

937 notes · View notes

chaepink · 2 years ago

Note

Hi pookie bear. Could u please write another smut about a sub!pathe thic yandere who got jealous of the readers friend because he accidentally touched her hand? UGHH MAKE THE YANDERE SO PATHETHIC PLSS

dom!reader, sub!yandere, voyeurism, masturbating, praise

"s-see how- ah! p-pretty i look for y-you?" tears prickle your yandere's eyes as he continues to jerk himself off. his eyes never leaves yours as you watch from fall apart from his own hand, the wet sound of his hand on his dick heading straight to your ears.

"that guy f-friend of yours w-would ngh never l-look this good f-for you." you hold yourself from rolling your eyes at his jealousy. that guy friend of yours actually already has a girlfriend and he touched your hand on accident! he even apologized but of course your yandere wouldn't hear any of it and decided to show you himself why he's better.

but you're not complaining when he looks this pathetic and adorable in front of you right now though.

you watch as pre cum leaks from his dick and onto the sheets below as his body shakes from the pleasure. his flushed face just looks so adorable and the way his legs are spread wide apart to show you all of him to you has the thoughts in your head running wild.

"its only me you love, right? just me?" you smile at him. "of course i love you, you always such a good boy for me. you're my good boy, right?"

your praise has him letting out a whine. "o-only yours, [name]."

ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

#chaepink.answers #chaepink.nsfw #dom reader #sub!character #dom!reader #sub yandere #yandere smut #yandere x reader #yandere fanfiction #yandere male #yandere #sub!yandere

3K notes · View notes

lucyrose191 · 2 years ago

Text

•·.·''·.·• F1 MASTER LIST •·.·''·.·•

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

S E B A S T I A N V E T T E L

•·.·''·.·• A shared History , Part 2 , Part 3•·.·''·.·•

(fluff)

Moments that Sebastian Vettel and Y/N have shared throughout their careers together both on and off track. Sebastian Vettel x fem!driver!reader

•·.·''·.·• Looking at her •·.·''·.·•

(fluff, suggestive at the end)

Reader has grown to love the feeling of Sebastian’s eyes on her but not everyone understands. Sebastian Vettel x shy!girlfriend!reader

•·.·''·.·• Come back to me •·.·''·.·•

(angst, fluff)

Sebastian’s world is turned upside down when he finds out the reason behind the red flag, the aftermath is just as torturous as the moment he got the news.Sebastian Vettel x wife!driver!reader

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

K I M I R Ä I K K Ö N E N

•·.·''·.·• The Icebreaker •·.·''·.·•

(fluff)

It never fails to amaze the formula one community just how much of a difference there is in Kimi’s attitude whenever his wife is around. Kimi Räikkönen x Fem!Wife!Reader

•·.·''·.·• Silent Admiration , Part 2 •·.·''·.·•

(Implied age gap, fluff)

Kimi’s got some deep feelings for the reader but plans to do what he does best, keep silent. Until, Sebastian manages to persuade him that maybe melting his icy exterior might work in his favour. Kimi Räikkönen x Fem!Driver!Reader.

•·.·''·.·• Protective Shield •·.·''·.·•

(fluff, mistreatment of women)

You always have a smile on your face, even through the struggles of being the only female driver but when it feels like the entire media is against you it’s hard to keep that smile on your face but Kimi won’t allow it to disappear, he’s always there protecting you. Protective!Kimi x Sunshine!driver!reader

•·.·''·.·• Not yours, Ours •·.·''·.·•

(fluff)

In which you’re constantly stealing your husband’s sunglasses so he gets you your own matching ones. Kimi Räikkönen x Wife!reader

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

J E N S O N B U T T O N

Pending….

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

M A R K W E B B E R

Pending….

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

M A X V E R S T A P P E N

Pending….

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

C H A R L E S L E C L E R C

Pending….

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

C A R L O S S A I N Z

Pending….

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

O S C A R P I A S T R I

Pending….

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

L A N D O N O R R I S

Pending….

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

F E R N A N D O A L O N S O

Pending….

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

G E O R G E R U S S E L L

Pending….

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

T O T O W O L F F

•·.·''·.·• No longer his •·.·''·.·•

(angst, heartbreak)

Toto now has to face the consequences of his actions that tore your family apart. Toto Wolff x Ex!wife!reader

•·.·''·.·• Tame the Wolff •·.·''·.·•

(angry Toto)

A few scenarios in which Toto is angry and frustrated and you’re there to calm him down and save his poor team from his wrath. Angry!Toto Wolff x Calm!Wife!reader

•·.·''·.·• Broken Decisions , Part 2 , Part 3•·.·''·.·•

(angst, light smut, heartbreak, pregnancy trope)

The news of Toto Wolff divorcing from Susie has just hit the media and you, Michael Schumacher’s eldest daughter and George Russel’s race engineer, are beyond shocked, even more so as your relationship with your boss begins to evolve. Divorced!Toto Wolff x fem!engineer!Schumacher!reader

•·.·''·.·• Take it easy •·.·''·.·•

(fluff)

Your stubbornness to admit you may be feeling unwell might just be your downfall one day but your husband will always be there to catch you, as will your son. Toto Wolff x Wife!reader

•·.·''·.·• Clingy Boys •·.·''·.·•

(fluff)

It’s both yours and Toto’s day off but both your boys are sick and wanting your attention. Clingy!Sick!Toto Wolff x Wife!reader

•·.·''·.·• Caught In the Act •·.·''·.·•

(fluff, teasing)

The stresses of work have your mind running a million miles an hour but your husband knows how to slow it down.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

#masterlist #formula one #motorsport #seb5 #kimi raikkonen x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfiction #sebastian vettel x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #toto wolff x reader #oscar piastri x reader #carlos sainz x reader #mark webber x reader #jenson button x reader #f1 masterlist #max verstappen x reader

2K notes · View notes

gds-daisy · 5 months ago

Text

meddle about

pairing: kang dae ho x fem!reader

warning(s): SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), dom!reader, sub!dae, public(ish) sex?, handjob (m!receiving), teasing, edging, dirty talk, implied p in v sex, degradation, etc.

The two of you couldn't care less when it came to where you were right now. Currently, you and Dae-Ho were in a restaurant bathroom passionately kissing each other that ended up with him being pushed up against the bathroom stall door.

The date had started off so innocently. It was just the two of you eating dinner at a candlelit table and soon enough, you found yourself grabbing Dae’s strong thighs through his dress pants.

He immediately felt the effects of it when the blood started rushing to his dick. He tried to play it off as nothing, but he couldn't hide it from you.

That's how you guys ended up here.

With him still being pinned against the sturdy door, you decided to take this chance to pull him by his robes into the nearest stall door without breaking the feverish contact. Once you enter the confined space, you lock the door shut and continue running your hands all over his body. You could feel his hard on through the thin fabric of your dress and noticed the way he was rutting against nothing. There was your reason why. Truth be told, he had been craving you all day while you were busy at work. He had tried getting off by himself, but he just couldn't for some reason.

Fast forward to when you got ready for your night out, he saw you for merely twenty seconds and had to hold back a moan at the sight of you.

You wore a black satin dress that went up to just below your knee and paired it with your favorite pair of high heels. He swore he was going to cum on the spot.

"Oh I see why you're all worked up now baby…..it's because of the dress, isn't it? You like that you can see my nipples, yeah?"

He's too far gone to give you a real answer, so he just nods at your question, hoping it's sufficient enough to satisfy you. Unfortunately for him, it's not and you instantly pull away, earning a sour pout from your needy boyfriend.

"If you're gonna be a needy boy, you're gonna have to use your words, baby," you order.

"Yes it's the dress-" he lets out before you cut him off.

"See that wasn't so hard now, was it?" you reply.

"No it wasn't," he says shamefully.

"Now, what do you want, Dae?" you question.

“I want you to touch me,” he admits.

"Am I not touching you right now?" you ask rhetorically, eager to see his response. Then you get an idea. What better way to rile him up and make him tell you what he wants than to touch him all over until you find out exactly what he's craving from you?

"You wanna be touched here?" you say, tracing your hand over his chest.

"No-" he says. Experimentally, you continue to touch him with your hands until they make their way to his hips. "How about here?" you ask, teasing the shit out of him.

"No I want it-" he tries to say, but you can't be bothered to let him finish his sentence. You finally guide your hand down to his dick and you know you hit the jackpot in that moment. He had grown hard over a fucking dress? How pathetic.

"Now what's this, baby? Is this all for me?" you ask with a fake shocked look etched on your face.

"Yes, baby," he whines almost instantly.

"Such a dirty little thing for me. I wonder what would happen if I just.." you trail before pumping your hand around the fabric of his pants. You feel him twitch at your sudden movements and you can't help but smirk. "Poor little thing."

"Baby please..." he begs once more.

"What was that? Just wanna make sure I heard that right," you ask.

"Please help me...l need it...need you," you hear him say.

"That's a good boy," you coo. You decide to not waste any more time and start unbuckling his belt in a haste. Your lips find their way to his again as you throw his belt to the ground. You could practically feel the vibrations of his whines against your supple lips and it only made it so much hotter. You slide his pants off of him, leaving him only in his suffocating boxers where his hard on was torturing him.

"Let's see how much you need me, pretty boy," you say before breaking the kiss and pulling at the waistband of the fabric. With each soft pull of the garment, you saw more of his aching and reddened dick. You give it one last tug before sliding it down his toned legs. There it was, all ready for you and only you.

"You need me more than I thought," you tut at the sight of it.

"Need it so bad," he says.

"Oh baby, I know," you reply knowingly. "But, let's see how long it takes for you to beg even more."

With that, you rub his hard on with only the tips of your fingers and feel him involuntarily twitch at the newfound sensation. He wanted more.

"This is torture... please..." he whines.

"Then why are you twitching?" you ask.

"Feels so good…just can't help it."

You continue teasing the tip of his throbbing cock. You can feel it pulsing against your dainty fingers and you can only shake your head in disapproval. Now forming rough circles against the tip, you can see Dae-Ho lose whatever composure he had. This was gonna be fun.

Without any warning whatsoever, you start pumping away at his shaft that had already began to leak precum. He gasps at your actions and before either of you know it, he's throwing his head back in ecstasy. You slowly pick up the speed, seeing what reaction you would get out of him.

"Just like that...oh fuck!" he grunts.

"Such a needy little thing I have...all desperate for my hand," you say.

"Only for y-you!" he lets out, louder than anticipated. To be honest, he really didn't care how loud he was in the moment. He just wanted you to make him feel good. He was desperate.

“That’s what I like to hear, pretty boy.”

Your hand moves upward until you reach the top of his cock and start pumping ever so violently. You feel him grow even harder under your hand, which only eggs you on even more. You wanted to see your sweet boy unravel beneath your hand.

“I’m gonna-“ he attempts to say. You knew what the rest of the sentence was going to be like, so you don’t let him finish it.

You continue abusing his aching cock and can feel every single jerk of it while doing so. You can see him become more needy as the need to cum grows even more for him.

“Now you can cum.” you say.

“Need a little more!” he moans. You scoff at his words and decide to give him what he wants against your better nature. “Give me what’s mine. I know you can,” you demand of him. He nods his head and before either of you know it, he releases hot ropes of cum all over your hand, leaving it completely drenched.

“That’s it,” you praise. You hear his breathing shift as he comes down from his high and also hear it return to normal in no time.

“Now let’s get you dressed again, Dae. Wouldn’t want anyone knowing, would we?” you ask.

“I suppose we wouldn’t,” he says, earning a grin from you.

Why hadn’t you guys done this sooner?

#kang dae ho smut #kang dae ho #dae ho smut #dae ho #dae ho imagine #dae ho squid game #dae ho x reader #kang ha neul #player 388 #player 388 smut #squid game smut #squid game fanfic #squid game #squid game 2

197 notes · View notes

faeryleehowle · 5 months ago

Text

I cannot find the ask but im pretty sure its from an anon @hedwig221b about a southern Derek and he has been HAUNTING ME I cant stop thinking about country/cowboy Derek Hale being so large in size but so calm and quiet and just watching Stiles. Maybe because he comes in to help with a new addition to the town/farm like a bakery or cafe or garden or something and he’s always so busy and moving around a lot and runs off of so much caffeine, but he has a LOT to do okay? So yes he is up at 5am and is pulled down by pure exhaustion at 12am and the bags under his eyes are growing but he does it!! He gets the bakery/garden open and opening day is a success and the team he was training for weeks is flawless and capable and he sleeps for a day straight the day after and wakes up to an invitation to dinner at Dereks cabin and he thinks he’s in trouble for sleeping and skipping a day because Derek isn’t necessarily his boss but he is the nephew of the boss so maybe he is the sanctioned enforcer? And he is a nervous wreck the entire walk there but when he gets there everything is…fine??? Derek was just worried that he was working himself too hard and also Stiles is sure for a second that Derek is…flirting with him?? But no Stiles is just wired from wrecking his body and maybe Derek is right, maybe he wouldn’t have to rest so hard if he didn’t work so hard. Derek jokingly but seriously presses that he’s going to keep an eye on Stiles and that when the sun goes down and everyone else stops working that Stiles will too, and Stiles agrees! Derek looks calm and happy and actually everyone on the farm does and Stiles could use some of that. Derek walks Stiles back to his cabin at the end of the night and again Stiles swears he’s flirting but theres just no way, Derek is all man. All STRAIGHT man. He chalks it up to being intimacy starved and confused when anyone shows him an inch of kindness but he’s not going to do that to Derek, so he rids himself of this silly thoughts and waves him goodnight and from that day on Stiles actually does end his days at sundown with the rest of the farm and eats dinner with everyone in the hall and makes friends and tries his best to shake Derek from his mind. But he has got to be the only cowboy to ever exist that is so comfortable with his masculinity, because he BAKES for STILES. Buys him a cowboy hat when he notices the sunburn on Stiles cheeks one morning, (which he hand delivers to him and Stiles cant even look him in the fucking EYE), the gifts, the touches, the dinner invitations. Stiles is L O S I N G I T.

One Saturday its Dereks turn to grocery shop for the game room and he drags Stiles along and something he says makes Stiles realize that Derek isn’t just this great straight man that doesn’t care that Stiles is gay, he’s this great straight man that doesn’t KNOW Stiles is gay (he does, babe. The closet is clear.) and Stiles PANICS at the grocery store and shuts down and shuts Derek out and Derek is like fucking hell this guy is hard to read, he doesn’t like flirting or gifts or quality time maybe I just need to down right ask him if he wants me to leave him alone because MIND YOU this entire time Derek has been doing his BEST work, his next moves were going to include shirtless horse riding lessons (dont ask)

But they make it home with Stiles avoiding eye contact like its his job (which is not unusual for him, Derek has to admit) but he keeps avoiding him for the next couple days and he’s about to think that maybe he read it wrong maybe Stiles isn’t interested when he overhears Stiles talking to Peter about finding a replacement for him and fuck FUCK Derek has made him uncomfortable. The last thing he wants is for Stiles to leave because of him, he goes to bake ‘im sorry’ cookies or something but before he leaves he hears Peter trying to tell Stiles that he’s sure Derek really likes him. Like reallllllly likes him. Like really really likes him, and before Derek can get in there to shove his fist in Peters mouth, Stiles starts laughing. A little too loudly. Like okay why is it so funny babe?? And before Derek can get his feelings hurt he starts going on about how its impossible how they are from different worlds how beautiful and kind and put together Derek is and how lovely and thoughtful and strong he is and how next to him Stiles feels like nothing but a mess and no one wants that. Derek can smell Stiles eyes start to water. Peter doesn’t respond, maybe because he can sense that Derek is near but he doesn’t accept Stiles quasi-resignation, that his request is denied and that he should talk to Derek. Even as just a friend. Stiles softly accepts, slowly making his way back to his cabin. He’s dejected and confused, he doesn’t notice that Derek is following him, not until he goes to close the door to his cabin behind him and it hits Derek trying to walk in too.

“Oh, sorry…” he mutters confused turning to look at the obstruction.

Derek.

“H-hey. Derek.”

And Derek just starts talking about how like he always wants to touch the beauty marks on Stiles face but Stiles looks like cream and Dereks hands are always dirty, no matter how many times he washes up and maybe thats why he didn’t come outright and just say how much he liked Stiles from that first dinner, he liked him before but that first dinner just cemented it, and he’s sorry about how he found out because he was eavesdropping (because he is southern and a gentlemen thank you) but he’s glad that he’s finally told him because Stiles deserves to know that someone looks at him and sees someone important and lovely and kind and beautiful, and the messy bits make him even more of all those things and stiles cannot hear anything anymore he leaps and kisses Derek and Derek catches him and kisses back and moans so loud into the kiss because Stiles tastes every bit as sweet as he dreamed he would and Stiles clings on for fucking dear life because he doesn’t remember kissing or being this close to another human being feeling this fucking good and right, it always just felt warm and kind of nice but this. This, he couldn’t even think. Remember his name, where they were, he never wanted it to end but wishes he never felt it at all because how is he supposed to go on about his day after this doing anything else other than kissing Derek Hale????????

#baby idk what this is #sterek mini #mini fic #I have like 5 other fics to finish and sat down and posted this #jail #sterek #southern Derek hale #cowboy Derek hale #ficlette

136 notes · View notes

fruit-sy · 1 year ago

Text

Kaycee's Mod: P03 Edition Comic + Ideas

l. The takeover

What if P03 got the OLD_DATA first instead of Leshy? That's basically the premise of this AU lol

II. Intro

Kaycee is not impressed with P03's storytelling

III. Skill Issue

I imagine Kaycee was mainly in charge of Grimora's and maybe partly Leshy's development, and while she was familiar with the other Scrybes' gameplay, she wasn't too good at playing them

May be lore inaccurate as ik Kaycee is a card gamer nerd, but even pros take Ls sometimes :p

IV. Playing Favourites

Despite not knowing Leshy is also self aware, I like to think Kaycee would still smash from just knowing him from the base game lol.

V. Broken Fight

Average unfinished boss fight

This was Inspired by the "P03 in Kaycee's mod" mod 👀

I saw that they updated the mod a couple of months ago so I played it and I got dragged back to a mini Inscryption brainrot again lol- See, brainrots don't die, they lay dormant until they take over your life again asldkfjasdlf

Anyways, the mod's super fun and it consumed my life for a couple of days!! Also idk if they balanced the mod more or if I just got really lucky but I have more success in finishing runs compared to 2 yrs ago where it took abt a week for me to finish ONE run WITHOUT challenges;; regardless, I enjoyed the new additions to the mod :3

I made a post following this same swap AU idea almost 2 years ago, but I felt compelled to put a little bit more effort this time. I didn't take this too seriously so there may be some handwaving in regards to like, the canon because I have a headache trying to follow it too much lmao

but P03 and Kaycee are my faves, so im just having fun making this silly comic :^]

(I have a couple more pages sketched out but idk when I'll finish it. but uh, yeah, I'll probably have another post following this up sometime in the future in case anyone's wondering 👀)

#inscryption #kaycee hobbes #p03 #my art #Kaycee's mod: P03 Edition

707 notes · View notes

7-deadly-cats · 16 days ago

Text

the bastard & the clown

★ P A I R I N G ★ boxer!rafe cameron x witty!barkeeper!reader + some platonic barry x reader

★ S U M M A R Y ★ you’re working a regular shift at the bar you run when rafe and barry drop by for a chill night out. but when a pair of men at the counter start running their mouths, rafe puts one specific bastard politely in his place.

★ C O N T E N T W A R N I N G ★ rafe's pov, cursing / strong language, mildly suggestive language and themes, (verbal) themes of toxic masculinity/sexism/misogyny/domestic violence/tradwife, semi jealous!rafe, also flustered!rafe hihihi, physical violence (a punch) & mentions of blood

★ W O R D C O U N T ★ 6.4k+ (it was supposed to be 3k help)

★ A / N ★ been wanting to introduce this duo in a while now and thought they could fit @zyafics campaign. also, thought it'd be ironic if rafe got to put some asshole in his place who basically represents some of these twisted versions of him. a lot longer than intended but i got a little carried away. also only proofread twice so pls don't mind any context mistakes. anyway, hope you guys enjoy and lmk what you think <3

ps: idk if it gets clear throughout the fic (or the title hahahah) but each man at the counter is assigned a term. so don't get confused, 'clown' always refers to one guy and 'bastard' to the other.

xx ᓚᘏᗢ

R. C. M A S T E R L I S T | T A G L I S T F O R M

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

"Ahhh, now I get why you insisted on coming here, Country Club," Barry said with a fuckass grin as the bar’s wooden entrance door swung shut behind them.

The two of them just came back from a boxing session, freshly showered, and now in need of some time out.

Rafe followed that idiot's gaze, a scowl already forming on his face.

The Bastard’s Lighter was packed with a mixed crowd of shitty people, the air thick with smoke and the sharp bite of cheap whiskey. Round tables glowed under soft golden lighting, casting gentle shadows over laughing assholes and clusters of sweet girls beneath them.

Some of those girls had even turned their heads when the two of them walked in, flashing Rafe pretty smiles and giggles in their cute little summer dresses (god, how he loved this season for exactly that). They were probably hoping he’d come over and talk to one of them.

But he didn't give a shit about them.

Why should he? Because at the far end of the room, the bar awaited—a silver-lit, crescent-shaped counter with high stools offering seats with the view on the best part of this entire place.

You.

The hot bartender with the cheeky laugh and teasing smiles, the one who could outdrink any bastard who dared challenge you.

Or better: the girl Rafe had come here for tonight.

That scowl threatening to creep onto his face quickly disappeared, replaced by a faint smile and softened gaze.

"Come on, loverboy," Barry chuckled, clapping a hand on Rafe’s shoulder and nudging him forward. "Don’t wanna keep your lady waiting. Might be some other slick bastard trying his luck.”

And the scowl was right back.

Rafe turned around with a tilt of his head, eyes squinted, a crooked smile playing on his lips as he tapped Barry’s chest. “You fucker behave tonight, alright?”

“Me?” Barry raised his brows in mock innocence, shaking his head with an amused snort. “Dunno what you’re trynna tell me here, big boy, but I’m just here to drink and enjoy your delightful company. I ain’t ever—“

“Just keep count of your fucking drinks, yeah?”, Rafe said, brows furrowed as he held Barry's stupid grin. “You falling from the stool tonight, I’ll leave you there. I'm not dealing with the same shit as last time.”

Shit, Rafe had been so close to getting your number—hell, you’d already pulled out your cute little notepad and pen, that teasing glint in your eyes, the first two digits already written down—and then swamp rat Barry ruined this one-in-a-million chance by almost throwing up on the counter.

Idiot hadn't just embarrassed himself, trying to drink a dockworker the size of a bear under the table, but Rafe as well. And right in front of you on top of that.

Barry was lucky Rafe had even let him tag along tonight. He would’ve preferred bringing Kelce this time—that idiot at least knew how to be a decent wingman—but he was on some kind of detox bullshit and wouldn’t go near fast food or booze right now.

Barry let out a lazy chuckle. “Not my fault for—“

“I don’t give a shit”, Rafe cut him off, passive-aggressively fixing the crease he’d caused on Barry's tank top with a one-sided smile. “Don’t act like a clown, and I won’t treat you like one. Can’t be that hard, right?”

For a moment Barry just eyed him, mouth tugged into a downward smile, then he raised his hands in surrender. “A’right, a’right, Country Club. Relax your balls.” He nodded toward the bar. “Now get ya fancy ass movin', ya girl's been eyeing the wrong guy the past five minutes.”

Shit, what.

Rafe’s head snapped around.

Aw, hell no, fuck that.

There you were, a few meters down, chatting with some greasy fucker in his late forties, dressed in a cheap-ass Suitsupply suit (yeah, Rafe could smell that offense from across the room). And it wasn’t just one bastard you were serving with that practiced little smile—knowing full well they were disgusting pricks but also well aware you could squeeze some good profit out of them—but another one of this breed sat right beside him.

Rafe only saw the backs of their heads in those terrible excuses for suits, but he could still make out the balding patches from over here (not to mention the probably receding hairlines). He didn’t need to see their faces to know exactly how they were looking at you—lecherous grins and eyes creeping over places they had no business looking.

He knew their type. He'd seen men like these at business events of his dad.

Middle-class managers leading some irrelevant departments at some irrelevant company selling irrelevant shit. And when they weren’t sitting in their sad little three-square-meter offices, drinking bad coffee and pretending their phone calls were presidential briefings, they hit up country clubs and bars, puffing cigars and sipping whiskey, trying to make up for their miserable little lives by gathering in their self-proclaimed alpha circles.

And the worst part? They probably had a sweet wife and kids waiting at home, but instead chose to sit at a bar ogling the boobs and butt of a bartender in her twenties.

Pathetic losers.

Rafe's fingers were already twitching as he followed after Barry. And of course, as lucky as he was, only three stools left at the bar. Right next to those wannabe CEOs.

Fucking great.

Barry plopped down next to some sweet girl while Rafe had no choice but to sit down beside one of the pricks—at least one stool of space between them.

He would’ve loved nothing more than to just chase them off, but he didn’t wanna cause a scene in front of you. And, judging by the stack of glasses in front of them, you were at least making decent money off these pricks.

Besides, he knew you could handle yourself if you needed to. No reason to question that.

“Be right with you, boys,” you said with a cheeky grin, not even looking up as you mixed one of the losers a Jack & Coke (a pathetic drink for a pathetic clown).

God, but the way you worked the bottles so smoothly, not spilling a single drop. Rafe could watch you behind the bar for hours, soaking up your energy and that laugh.

“No worries, Boss,” Barry called back, matching your grin and already reaching for a peanut bowl next to him. “Got allll the time in the world.”

That stupid-ass nickname of his even made you laugh, making a soft smile creep onto Rafe’s face too.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” the clown next to Rafe slurred, voice already half gone, as you slid the glass toward him (Rafe could feel his blood pressure spike the second that fucker tried sneaking a look down your top).

You let out a light breath, pulling the drink back with a raised brow. “Aww, didn’t you see? ‘Sweetheart’ isn’t on the menu. Unless you’re cool with paying ten bucks for it every time.”

The clown had the audacity to gasp. “What? No way. Not happening.”

“Shame,” you said, pretending to pout. “You looked like a guy who could afford it.” You shrugged and started pulling the drink back again. “But I guess I was wrong—”

“I am!” the guy cut in, nodding like a maniac. “CEO of Bulk & Bloom. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”

Rafe almost burst out laughing. That fuckass health/gym/whatever store Kelce swore by? That's what he was CEO of? Most embarrassing shit Rafe had heard all month.

You tilted your head with a pondering expression, face all scrunched up like you were desperately trying to remember the sad little company he worked at (god, the way you played that clown, milking him for cash—shit was so fucking hot).

"Oh, yeah, I remember now," you finally said, fluttering your lashes at the stupid fucker (Rafe knew it was all an act, but that little gesture still stirred something vile in him). "Then I’m all the more confident that a man in such an important position won't mind coughing up a few extra bucks, right?" Without waiting for that pathetic clown's response, you slid the drink across the counter toward him, your voice slipping back into your true tone. "Just leave it on the bill later, sweetheart."

As soon as you turned to face Rafe and Barry, Rafe straightened up, unable to hide a smile as your pretty eyes landed on him for a second—

—before your gaze fell on swamp rat Barry.

“B!” A wide grin spread across your face as you leaned against the lower bar with one hand, the other resting on your hip. “Good to see you. You recovered from last time? Looked pretty rough.”

Acting as if Rafe wasn't here. Ha. Funny. Fucking hilarious.

Barry nodded, swallowing a handful of peanuts. “Sure as hell did, Boss. Shouldn’t have mixed my drinks so heavy.”

You chuckled, a sweet sound Rafe wished had been directed at him. "Nah, you shouldn't have participated in a drinking game with Big Ol' Hank."

“Could’ve warned me about the guy’s skills. Man’s a bear,” Barry said, shaking his head with a lopsided smile.

You turned and pointed toward a portrait on the wall behind you—a big, grumpy-looking dude. Below him, a golden plaque read: Keeper of the Lighter since 1977. His fire never died, and neither did his thirst.

“I’m pretty sure that should've been warning enough,” you replied, amused, as you turned back to them, nodding toward Rafe. “Lucky your boyfriend walked you home that night. Would’ve been a real shame to find you washed up dead on the shore the next morning.”

"Fucker's not my boyfriend", Rafe said.

With a raised brow, you finally spared him a glance, that cheeky smile playing on your lips. “You sure? You two come in here every week, giggling like schoolgirls over god-knows-what, drinking the same kind of beer, and now you even got matching buzzcuts.” A chuckle escaped you. “Surprised you’re not wearing each other’s names around your wrists.”

Fuck that.

Rafe had the buzzcut first and a week later fucking Barry decided to chop off his hair too, for whatever fucking reason.

The worst part? You might actually believe Rafe was taken now.

“Boy’s lips probably taste like shit from kissing his daddy’s ass,” Barry said before Rafe could reply, and the fucker was lucky Rafe didn’t deck him right then and there. "Ain't wanna get involved with that mess."

Not a wingman. A fucking clipman, cutting off any chance Rafe might’ve had with you.

“I’m not—” Rafe started with a deep frown, but shut his mouth when some girl at the far end of the bar called your name.

“Coming!” you called back, then turned to Rafe with a teasing little smile in your eyes. “Sorry, Ralph, no time for—”

"Rafe."

“Right. Anyway,” you said, grabbing your notepad and pen from your waist. “The usual, I assume? Two Modelos?”

Barry nodded and motioned to the empty peanut bowl. “And refill this, would you?”

“For you, always,” you said grinning, scribbling something down, then looked up at Rafe with an expectant expression. “And you, handsome?”

Rafe blinked.

Wait, what.

Shit, why the fuck did he feel his cheeks heat up and why the fuck did you eye him like that? Like you were staring straight into his damn soul.

Rafe let out a baffled chuckle, scratching his jaw with furrowed brows. "Uh, PBR this time."

“Oh, feeling adventurous today, I see,” you teased with a grin, jotting it down. You quickly refilled Barry’s snack bowl and left with a “Be right back.”

Rafe’s eyes trailed after you, drinking up the way your hips swayed as you walked—sweet yet confident. That whole attitude of yours… shit was driving him absolutely crazy.

After Wheezie, you were probably the coolest girl Rafe had ever met. Always so unbothered, quick-witted, cheeky, and with the perfect flirt-to-roast ratio.

And Rafe still hadn't bagged you. Shit was starting to get embarrassing.

"Boy's in love."

Rafe’s gaze snapped to Barry, who was watching him with a way too shit-eating grin for someone who’d just narrowly avoided a punch to the face.

“You know if you’re trying to get your ass beat tonight, you’re on the right track,” Rafe said, tilting his head with a crooked smile.

Barry just chuckled and reached for another peanut, but Rafe grabbed the shitty-ass bowl and moved it out of reach.

“I’m serious, dude,” he said, gesturing to his chest with both hands. “Told you not to clown around tonight, and you go spouting bullshit like I’m not right here.”

Like, what the fuck was that ass-kissing comment about? Seriously.

“What?” Barry raised a brow, grinning as he leaned on the counter. “Don’t tell me Country Club’s scared I’ll shoo away his girl.”

More like cockblocking Rafe but yeah, same fucking thing.

“All I’m fucking saying is—” Rafe started, but Barry waved him off before he could finish.

"You’ve already almost won the race, bro, a’right," he said with that fuckass smile, jerking his thumb back toward where you were chatting with some other chick. "You think Little Miss Bar Queen would bother exchanging more than just your order with you if she didn’t already consider you rocking her world, at least a little?"

For a second, Rafe just stared at the idiot.

Could that be true? Were you actually interested in Rafe? Sure, you’d been cool enough to (almost) give him your number last time, but not even remembering his fucking name now… that shit felt like a punch straight to the gut.

Okay, shit, yeah, of course, you served all kinds of people every day, some shittier than others, and of course, there were guys in the mix who liked you just as much as Rafe did. A blind man could see how fucking gorgeous you were.

And of fucking course you'd flirt back. That’s just how you were. And as much as it gnawed at Rafe’s chest, as much as it stirred something deep and ugly in his gut, it wasn’t all that unlikely that you gave your number out to other guys too.

But swamp rat Barry claiming Rafe actually had a shot with you? That shit lit something in him. A wave of energy crashing through him, almost feeling as good as snorting a line (yeah yeah, Rafe was clean now, but the comparison still fit).

Shit, okay, so maybe he needed a new approach. Maybe he just had to—

"--beat up my wife if she'd dared talk to me like that", the bastard beside the clown said loud enough for Rafe to hear.

Shit, what the fuck?

"I'm serious," the bastard continued his bullshit, talking to the clown. "You let every woman talk to you like that, and pretty soon they start thinking they own you. When in reality, it's the other way around, ain't it?"

The clown nodded, letting out a sigh. “Yeah, yeah I guess you’re right, Tommy, I just—“

“What’s with the scowl, bro?” Barry said, ripping Rafe out of the braindead convo next to him. “Tried cheering your sulky ass up and here you are—“

Rafe shushed him with a wave, brows deeply furrowed. “Shut the fuck up for one second.”

"Man, am I glad I'm not your boyfriend," Barry muttered, reaching over to pull his snack bowl back and skimming the menu.

Fuckass.

“—that’s why it’s important to put them in their place, alright?”, the bastard continued preaching. “Women want someone they can follow. It’s natural they seek a man who protects them and cares for them.” He tapped the counter aggressively. “Wonder why there are no female presidents yet? Exactly! We are born leaders.”

Oh, Rafe was this close to getting up and smashing that fucker in the face, knocking a few teeth out, and giving him a pretty little black eye to match. His knuckles were still warm from earlier, would be a shame not to put that last burst of energy to use.

But nah.

He held himself back. Now he was curious. Let that asshole keep talking. Maybe he was witnessing the dumbest fucker in world history present himself right here, and Rafe wasn’t about to miss that celebration.

"Guess that makes sense," the clown slurred, swirling his half-empty Jack & Coke. "Harris is always bitching about me getting home late and not helping with the chores. I think I just gotta remind her of her role in this family, right?"

The bastard knocked on the wooden counter, a filthy chuckle escaping his lips. "You get it, man! She's working remote, right? So what's she complaining about? Got all the time in the world to prep the house for when you get home."

Rafe's blood boiled just beneath the surface. He hadn't heard this level of fucked-up nonsense in a LONG time. Last time, some cocky little shit at the boxing club thought he had a chance against Rafe. Like, was there something in the air lately making people extra fucking stupid?

The clown sighed, staring into his drink. "I just don't know how to—"

"Okay, beautifuls, sorry it took so long." The sweet sound of your voice yanked Rafe out of this braindead bubble. "Former high school friend decided to say hi."

With a soft thud, you placed two bottles of beer in front of the guys. The Modelo you slid over to Barry. "Here you go, B." And the PBR to Rafe, a bolt of lightning surging through him as you winked at him. "And this one for his cute boyfriend." You leaned back, drying your hands on the rag at your hip. "Anything else?"

Rafe blinked.

Cute!

Shit, why did that make the funniest feeling arise in his chest? He felt like some schoolgirl going insane over her crush.

Get a fucking grip, dude. Jesus.

"Get his fancy ass some ice," Barry mumbled, mouth full of peanuts, thumbing toward Rafe. "Boy decided to go gloveless at training today. Now he's hurting but too proud to admit it."

Rafe was gonna kill Barry the moment they stepped outside. Sure, his knuckles were still throbbing, but he wasn't hurt. What the fuck was that swamp rat even on?

Your soft chuckle melted Rafe's scowl, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yeah? Wanna let me take a closer look when I'm done here? I'm sure you could use someone to tape that up after such a session."

Oh?

A breathy laugh escaped Rafe as he raised a brow, nerves buzzing under his skin. "What, you some kind of part-time sports therapist or some shit?"

"No, but my aunt is," you said with a grin, tilting your head. "Picked up a few things from her. And I'm guessing it's real tough to reach your back on your own."

Fuck yeah. Now Rafe had officially been allowed in the ring.

"Alright," he said, smiling crookedly, fingers picking at the beer label. "When's your shift over?"

"As soon as the place closes down," you replied, grinning. "Guess you'll have to stick around for a few more hours."

Oh, you could bet your sweet little ass he would.

Rafe shrugged, corners of his mouth tugging down as he shook his head lightly. "I'm free." Then mirrored your grin. "Seats here are kinda shit, but I guess the view makes up for it."

And the genuine laugh that escaped your usually bold mouth felt like snorting three lines in a row (nah, fr, Rafe was clean, alright).

"Okay, then," you said, nodding at the beers. "If you need anything else, just holler. Got other customers to tend to."

With that, you spun your cheeky ass around and walked down to the other side of the bar where some old ladies were sitting.

"Shiiit, dude," Barry said with the biggest grin ever, gulping down a sip of his shitty-ass Modelo. "I think I just third-wheeled some telepathic sex right here. Might as well thank me for giving ya the nudge."

Rafe scoffed with a shake of his head, taking a sip of his PBR and immediately regretting his choice of beer. "You can thank me for not beating the shit out of you later."

A giggle left Barry's lips and whatever smart-ass reply he threw back, Rafe didn't register, because right next to him, three seats down, he caught the bastard tossing another comment to his clown friend.

"See, Frank, and that girl right there?" Oh, that fucker meant you, huh. "Pitiful. Probably no man at home to teach her not to swing her ass around other men in public. Sad what girls are turning into."

"Say that again." Rafe had now fully turned toward the two sorry-ass losers, head leaning forward, eyes locked on the bastard behind the clown.

Both looked up. The clown blinked, confused. The bastard raised a brow like he couldn’t believe someone had just interrupted their little alpha circle jerk.

"Sorry?" the bastard said, eyeing Rafe up and down like he was sizing up if the boy in a polo and shorts deserved to be taken seriously.

Rafe nodded, letting out a sharp scoff. "Yeah, you're gonna be sorry if you open that fucking mouth of yours one more time."

The bastard's face scrunched up and in that moment he seemed to decide Rafe was beneath him. "Boy, best not get involved in things that don't concern you."

That’s when Rafe knew for sure: this asshole was getting punched tonight. Just a matter of when.

"Bullshit’s spilling out of you like this place is a fucking stable," Rafe replied with a crooked smile. "So yeah, it does concern me when your shit's reeking all the way to my seat."

The clown was already sinking into his stool, but the bastard apparently thought Rafe was the joke here. He let out a disbelieving breath, not even looking at Rafe anymore as he turned to the clown, gesturing in Rafe’s direction. “See that, Frank? That’s what happens when a father doesn’t raise his son right. His mother was probably—”

“Finish that sentence, and your loser friend can go ahead and reserve you a hospital bed.” Rafe’s voice had dropped to a low edge, his expression far too calm for how close he was to dragging that fucker’s face across the counter.

The fucking audacity—not just dragging you and his dad through the mud, but now even throwing Rafe’s dead mother in too?

“Rafe, bro, come on,” Barry said from behind. “Idiots like him ain’t worth it.”

But Rafe spared him no mind, gaze fixed on the bastard three seats down.

The clown of the duo just looked between them, then down at his sad little Jack & Coke like he hadn’t just sat in the middle of all this shit, like he hadn’t co-signed every word his bastard friend had said. (Don’t worry—Rafe would deal with his sorry ass later.)

“I know your type, boy,” the bastard went on, eyeing Rafe’s clothes again (if only he knew Rafe owned socks that cost more than his entire outfit). “Dropped out of school, probably had some rebellious phase, and of course no real man around to beat you into shape. What a shame. Society’s raised nothing but soft little men these days.”

Rafe tilted his head slightly, brows raised in mock confusion. “Funny hearing that from a pathetic loser like you. Talking about ‘real men’ like you even qualify.”

As soon as the bastard started laughing, Rafe was on his feet, brushing off Barry's hand as he stepped around the clown. He let out an amused breath and rubbed his jaw with a shake of his head as he came to a stop in front of the bastard. "Not sure what's so funny about that."

The drunk clown nearly tripped over himself pushing himself off the stool, mumbling something about needing to piss as he staggered away. The bastard only furrowed his brow, watching his loser friend stumble off.

“What do you know about being a man?” he spat, turning back to Rafe, the wrinkles in his face bunching up like worn-out leather. He nodded toward Barry. “Your friend’s a pogue by the looks of it, and you...” His eyes dropped to Rafe’s sneakers. “Either the same breed or some kook who lost his crown.”

What the actual fuck was even going on in this fucker's brain? Fucking apes had more relevant shit to say than him.

"Yeah, talking reaal big for a guy with a knockoff Armani suit two sizes too big for a small fucker like you," Rafe snorted, eyeing the bastard down for a second. "Suit's fake, Rolex fake, shoes look like you got 'em from TKMinimum, and what's that?"

Rafe let out a disbelieving scoff, raising his brows as he gestured toward the fucker's feet. "Socks matching the color of your cheap-ass suit. Lemme guess: trying to appear taller to compensate for your poor little ego and tiny cock. I mean, shit", Rafe ran a hand over his buzzed hair, grinning crookedly as his gaze zeroed in on the guy’s forehead, "Even your fucking hairline’s running away from the bullshit coming out of your mouth."

Sure, Rafe could've given him some preaching about how to treat women and how fucking stupid his fuckass worldview was but that idiot was too far gone already and the only way to put him in his place was to question his entire appearance.

That's what guys like him actually cared about. Not morals, not decency, just how they appeared in public and whether everyone saw just how glorious and wealthy they were.

And the way that pathetic loser looked at Rafe now? Worth more than all the silver, gold, or diamonds in the entire damn world.

And then the cherry on top: your chuckle from behind the bastard—light and effortless, like the ring of a bell announcing Rafe's victory after a boxing match.

Rafe hadn't even noticed you coming up but now he felt like a fucking winner getting to put a fucker like that in his place in front of you AND getting that sweet sound out of you for the second time tonight.

And then, that bastard made the biggest fucking mistake of his entire pitiful life.

He turned his head back, eyes daring to look you over as he let out a disdainful scoff. When he made a hushing motion with his hand, he said "Do me a favor, woman, and--"

Rafe’s fist collided with the asshole’s face, a sickening crack echoing through the air—nearly as satisfying as your chuckle just right now.

The guy let out a sharp gasp as he stumbled back from his stool, hands flying up to his broken nose just in time to catch the blood now spilling over his fingers and lips. He crashed chest-first onto the seat next to him, bleeding all over the supposedly precious leather cushion.

The area around the bar went dead silent, except for a group of girls giggling about something in the back and fucking Nickelback playing on the speakers.

Rafe quietly met your gaze as he rubbed at his throbbing knuckles, while the bastard on the floor dramatically moaned like he’d been shot instead of just having his nose broken.

And you cheeky little thing only raised your eyebrows at Rafe, the faintest smile playing on your lips. “I’m pretty sure the house rules say no fights.”

Oh, how much Rafe loved that glimmer in your eyes.

"And I'm pretty sure it needs two for a fight", Rafe replied with a scoff and gestured to the sorry-ass loser clutching onto the stool. "Bastard's nowhere near to even be considered a walking vendor for a match, let alone a contestant."

“Shit, Country Club, this ain’t no damn boxing ring,” Barry chimed in with a chuckle, tossing the bleeding bastard a wad of tissues onto the stool beside him. “Bro, you’re staining the seats.”

The groaning bastard finally pushed himself up and knocked the tissues off the stool, one hand clutched to his nose, blood running through his fingers and dripping onto his knockoff suit and cheap-ass shoes.

Aww, and even a bloodshot eye—how unfortunate.

Now that was a picture worthy of being framed behind the bar. Gold plaque underneath: Biggest Dipshit in the Universe (since birth probably).

“You’ll be hearing from my lawyer, you little shit,” the bastard groaned, eyes watery from the punch, glaring at Rafe with a face so twisted, he looked like he was mid-way through busting the world’s saddest nut.

Rafe almost let out a giggle. Instead, he just nodded, lips curled. “Looking forward to it. Be so kind and address it straight to Thornton LLP, yeah?” And on the bastard’s delightfully baffled expression, Rafe piled on: “A very busy man, but if he sees my name on the envelope, I’m sure you’ll get priority.”

The bastard’s jaw clenched, and he let out another theatrical groan. “And that would be?”

“Rafe Cameron.”

Boom.

That was when it finally clicked in that baboon brain of his. Face pale, eyes wide as he realized just how far beneath Rafe he actually was in this little imaginary hierarchy of his. Fucker looked close to either pissing himself or throwing up just thinking about how expensive his own lawyer would be if he actually pulled through with his complaint.

A crooked smile played on Rafe’s lips as he raised his brows. “Need me to write it down for you?”

The bastard just stared blankly at him, and shit, even had the nerve to look over Rafe’s clothes again, like he couldn’t believe some dude in a basic polo and shorts was the CEO of Cameron Estates and Ward Cameron’s son.

“A'right, my guy,” Barry said, pushing off from his stool and grabbing the bastard’s shoulder. “Guess that was ya cue to leave. Pretty sure ya got plenty of paperwork waiting back at home now.”

“Get your filthy hands off me,” the bastard spat, shoving Barry’s hand away—and that alone nearly made Rafe punch him again, give him a matching bruise on the other side. “Fucking pogue. Thinks he has any say around here.”

“No, but I do.” Your voice rang out from behind the bar, hands braced on the lower ledge, an amused smile on your face. “Looks like you should call it a night, mister.” Grin deepening. “Not before you pay, though. For you and your sweetheart of a husband, of course.”

Barry said something like “I’ll get him, Boss,” and strolled off toward the restrooms.

The bastard’s chest rose and fell, face as red as the blood on it. “Back in my day, a bitch like you—”

“Shiiit, man,” Rafe chuckled low, grabbing the fucker by the shoulder and patting his chest. “You’re really asking for it right now, huh?”

Oh, and Rafe drank in that anger and fear in the guy’s eyes up like liquid coke, too scared to shove Rafe off.

Rafe nodded toward you with a crooked grin. “You’re gonna apologize to the nice lady now, pay for the drinks you and your loser buddy have downed, and then get your pathetic asses outta here.” He raised his brows with a smile. “Sound good?”

Bastard already opened his mouth but Rafe shook his head, tapping his chest with a finger, grip on his shoulder getting just a little firmer. “You’re lucky if all that bullshit earlier was just talk. Otherwise, I’m sure the cops would love a chat with that wife you bragged about beating.”

That silenced that fucker very quickly.

Rafe raised his eyebrows, waiting. “I mean, unless you need a second reminder—”

“I-I’m sorry”, the bastard blurted out.

“Nah,” Rafe said with a shake of his head, gesturing from himself to you. “Don’t tell me that shit. Apologize to her.”

A chuckle escaped your lips as the bastard finally met your gaze, brows scrunched into a pained grimace. “I’m sorry.”

Rafe let out an amused breath, clapping the bastard’s chest. “Shit, see? Easy. Now you do the same shit at home and question your morals and maybe hell’s promoting your room just a level.”

And the fact that that was apparently the scariest idea to this asshole? Not surprising. Guys like him always preached about God and then used it as an excuse for all the shit they did.

“There ya go,” Barry said as he came back in, dragging the drunk clown from earlier along. By the looks and stench of him, he’d just thrown up. “Now go over there and give the lady a generous tip, a’right?”

He did. Both of these fuckers, as a matter of fact.

Rafe and Barry both watched over their shoulders as each of the two reluctantly pulled out a $200 bill (surprised they even had those—then again, probably received them at some sad little business anniversary).

You flashed a big smile as you accepted that 60% tip. “Thanks, dearies. Hope you had a fun night.”

Rafe didn’t even let them respond, just politely kicked the bastard toward the door while Barry dragged the clown along after him.

Outside, the same clown stumbled forward and hit the pavement, landing on hands and knees in a puddle after Barry gave him a friendly shove. “Shit, bro, nobody told you the South Side ain’t no place for suits?”

“Don't think those cheap-ass knockoffs even deserve that term,” Rafe scoffed, then nodded at Barry to head back in. He didn’t want to spend another second around these losers.

Shit felt like a stain on Rafe’s evening.

Back at the bar, they were greeted by a bucket of soapy water, a pair of old gloves, and a sponge. The vibe in the place? Completely back to normal.

“You made the mess, you clean it,” you said firmly with your arms crossed—very clearly talking to Rafe only. Then, with that familiar amusement back in your voice, you added, “Want me to grab you an apron too?”

Rafe chuckled, mouth twitching into a downward grin. “You’d love that, huh?”

Oh, and that cheeky little laugh you let out? Priceless.

You tossed the rag in your hand over your shoulder, shrugging. “Nothing hotter than watching a man do chores.”

Honestly? For you, he’d probably even get on his knees and scrub the floor in an apron if you asked for it.

Fucking shit. What.

Alright, Barry had definitely hit Rafe too hard in today’s training. Now it was catching up to him, frying his brain into thinking shit like that.

“Yeah, nah,” Rafe said with a strained chuckle, running a hand over his buzzed hair. “I got this.”

A laugh slipped from your lips, nodding. “Alright. You two enjoy the rest of your night. I’ve got guests to take care of.”

“Wait!” Rafe called after you just as you were turning to leave. “Your offer—it still stands, right?”

Geez, what the fuck was up with his voice? Suddenly almost desperate. Even fucking Barry chuckled beside him.

And you? You just shot Rafe that signature teasing smile of yours, flashing your white teeth as a chuckle escaped you that made Rafe’s stomach tingle in all the right ways.

“The stool won’t clean itself, boxer boy,” you said, then turned that sweet ass of yours around and walked over to some new guests at a table in the back.

Was that a yes?

Shit, that had to be a yes. Otherwise, you’d have said No, right? Right???

"A'right bro, you have fun cleaning that shit up", Barry said as he patted Rafe's shoulder. "I'll go have a chit chat with the lady that's been eyeing me the whole night."

Rafe grimaced. "That just some bullshit excuse to dip?"

As much as Barry pissed him off, he did fuck with his ass. And now he wanted to bail after Rafe had allowed him to come along? The fuck was that.

Barry chuckled. “Ain’t goin’ far, Country Club. See,” he pointed toward a smiley redhead near the entrance—one of the girls who had turned around earlier. “I’ll be just around the corner. No need to panic about being orphaned." He smiled lazily. "Besides, I’ve had enough of third-wheeling ya and Little Miss Bar Queen eye-fucking each other.”

Fuckass.

Fine. Let him dip.

Rafe furrowed his brows and waved Barry off with a flick of his hand. “Aight. Go do your thing, then.”

After the swamp rat called Barry had strutted off, Rafe eyed the cleaning supplies on the bar with a deep frown. Never in his life had he cleaned up after anyone, let alone himself. Probably would’ve been easier to just buy a brand new damn barstool and maybe some new floor panels than to stand here looking like a damn idiot.

He could already picture the headlines if anyone actually cared enough to report it:

Rafe Cameron, CEO of Cameron Estates and local boxing champ, ready to start a new career path as cleaning lady? Inquiries welcome.

Yeah, whatever.

A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

And right now? That meant cleaning up the mess he’d made in your bar.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he walked up to the counter, stepping around the small crusted pool of blood on the floor (the bastard had bled like a goddamn pig for someone with just a broken nose).

And when Rafe stretched his fingers out to pull the gloves on, his heart skipped a beat as he spotted a little note. Torn straight from your notepad, by the looks of it.

He expected to find some numbers written on them but this was even better.

Rafe stared at the note for a solid minute, eyes locked on your pretty handwriting, lingering on the way you’d written his name.

Then, carefully, he folded the paper and tucked it into his pocket.

And just like that, the biggest motherfucking grin spread across his lips, feeling like he’d won the second round tonight.

If he played the cards right, the third was just right around the corner—set on a private stage reserved for just the two of you.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒄𝒂𝒕 ᨐฅ 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

R. C. M A S T E R L I S T | T A G L I S T F O R M

if your name is listed here, it's because you chose this genre on my taglist form. if you want to be removed, just fill out the form again.

@my-name-is-baby @c1gsafterwhat @lunaleah @skinthatgodmade @akobx @drewstarkeyswife-7 @miaaaoa @kathryn-maraudersversion @setmefreemyg @oreocheescake-12 @brycesfav @emmiesummers @sfotiegiuls @jjasmiineee @ayy1234567 @rgeraldg @stanseventeen @drewstarkeysrealwife @kravitzwhore @bluebells6 @4stro-phila @cokewithcameron @sammyrenae68 @booklover2503 @wuluhwuhmaster @emeloyy @k4yr14 @et3rn4ls0nsh1n3 @watashiwastarr @persiar9 @volkovaana @turtleegirl @izzy4everr @serendippindots @sc05 @rae455 @silkylove

#zyafics-mrgacampaign #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe cameron x yn #rafe cameron x you #rafe obx #rafe cameron x barkeeper!reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron one shot #boxer!rafe cameron x barkeeper!reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x female reader

370 notes · View notes

sister-lucifer · 1 year ago

Text

Eager Hands On Soft Flesh

Ticci Toby x Chubby!Transmasc!Reader

My half of a trade with @pompeiisystem !

Genre: Smut

Summary: After you let slip that you’ve got your fair share of insecurities about your body, Toby simply can’t pass up the opportunity to appreciate every bit of you.

Content/Warnings: Body worship, Reader’s body is focused on but I specifically chose NOT to use the word “fat,” Reader is insecure about their weight but Toby is there for reassurance, fucking against the kitchen counter, unprotected penis in trans masc vagina sex, fingering, oral sex (reader receiving), messy pussy eating, cumming inside, praise, use of “cunt,” “pussy,” and similar variations to describe Reader’s genitalia, Toby has a dick piercing but it’s only briefly mentioned

“Toby, be honest, do you think this outfit would look better if I…you know, lost some weight?”

The sudden lurch of his body followed by sputtering and coughing as he chokes on his drink makes you jump. Your eyes widen a bit as you watch him struggle to regain his composure, wiping his mouth and trying not to spit. His tongue clicks involuntary, neck jerking in all directions as he tries to process what he’s just heard.

“Wh— W-What the hell are you t-talkin’ about?” He stammers, speaking through the discomfort of off brand soda in his windpipe.

“I just mean…you know,” You reply, suddenly feeling sheepish as you look down at the crimson sweater keeping snug against your top half, “I was just thinking…maybe I should—“

“Did I s-say something?” Toby says quickly. He rises from where he was sitting at the kitchen table, wiping his chin with his sleeve one last time. “Did I m-make you—shhhrk!—make you— m-make you think that you h-had to?”

“Oh no, of course not!” You’re fast to reply, gently putting your hands on his arms and giving a small squeeze. “No, no, it’s not you at all, I promise. I was just thinking—“

“W-Well you shouldn’t d-do that anymore.”

You sigh softly, moving your hands down go grasp his. You run your thumbs over his knuckles as his fingers tense and twitch despite his best efforts to hold onto you, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Toby, come on, I didn’t mean anything bad about you. I’m just saying…I want you to be honest with me, that’s all.”

You look down at yourself, at the knit sweater and jeans you’ve put on. They’re comfortable, yes, but there’s something about the way you look in them that just doesn’t add up. You shouldn’t have expected to look exactly like the model on the website, really. You didn’t think you did.

You’re starting to feel foolish for spending your money on this. It was silly, really, to be so excited about something as simple as a cute sweater, but at the time you thought you couldn’t live without it. You have plenty of other perfectly good outfits in your closet. Really, what reason did you have to think—

You gasp softly when Toby suddenly pulls you in, ripping you from your thoughts with hands on your waist, gently grabbing at your love handles and pushing you back against the counter. His lips find your neck in a split second.

You moan softly, the sensation surprising but not unpleasant. You grasp at the back of his sweatshirt with one hand and run your fingers through his hair with the other. He groans under his breath when you tug just a bit.

“Please, baby,” He whispers against your skin, “P-Please, let me love on y-you just a-a bit…”

“Toby, what are you—“

“Nothing, baby, I-I’m not doing a-anything…Just l-let me…”

Your cheeks are getting hot fast. You make no effort to push him away, but you can’t help getting flustered.

“Toby, c’mon, you don’t have to do all this…”

“I-I want to, though,” He says quickly, starting to nip and suck at your neck between kisses, “I’m not v-vvv-very good with words, I-I…I just—j-just wanna show you—shhh!—s-show you what you f-feel like…to m-me…”

He pauses with a sigh, pulling back slowly. He looks up at you almost hesitantly, an expression you rarely see on his face. He’s always the first to act on an impulse, rarely ever thinking twice about anything; what’s slowing him down now?

“…i-if you’ll let me, I-I mean.”

The words come out far too gentle for Toby, and it makes you melt against him a bit. He’s always so eager to get his hands on your body, but something in him is sensing something unsure in you. You look back into the mossy color of his hazel eyes with contemplation.

You can’t stop the gentle smile that spreads over your face.

You pull him down to give him a slow kiss, and he happily returns the gesture. When you pull back again, there’s no hiding the anticipation on his face as he awaits your answer.

“…Of course, Toby.”

He takes only a split second to process the words before suddenly he’s roughly suckling and nipping at the flesh of your neck. You yelp in surprise, but not discomfort. You bite your lip as you grip his hair, trying to keep him against you.

His hands freely wander your body, moving up and down your sides before slipping beneath your sweater. You suck in a breath when he gives an affectionate squeeze to your love handles, fingers greedily grabbing at the warmth beneath your skin. He groans as he feels you, entire body shuddering at the sensation of you beneath his hands.

He moves so quickly, as if he’s worried you’ll disappear at any moment, like some invisible clock is counting down and the moment is reaches zero you’ll fade away. He grabs at you and sucks at your neck like he’s feeding on you, like your body heat is the only thing sustaining him. He needs you, and you can feel it in every touch.

He pushes your sweater up to your chest before hands slide down towards the waistband of your jeans. Twitching fingertips fiddle with the button and then the fly, yanking down the zipper with such speed you were worried it would break. He pulls the jeans down around your ankles, not bothering to pull them off before moving on to your underwear.

He looks up at you, fingers tapping anxiously at the waistband. He licks his dry lips, mouthing a silent ‘Can I?’

“Yes, yes, please,” You reply without hesitation, nodding quickly. You gasp softly when he tugs your underwear down to your knees, exposing your now soaked pussy to the cool air and making you shudder. He can’t stop the breathy moan that slips from his lips at the sight.

“S-So fucking beautiful…” He mutters through crooked teeth as he lowers himself slowly. Normally he would be eager to drop to his knees and service you, but just this once he’s taking his time. He’s methodical as he leaves a warm trail of kisses down your belly, letting his lips linger for a long few seconds before he moves down just a bit more. You watch with bated breath as he makes his way down until there’s no further to go.

“…You know I-I love this-sss-s pretty tummy, don’t you?” He mumbles against your skin, looking up into your eyes. Your heart skips a bit when you nod. He doesn’t seem satisfied.

“Say it.”

“…I…I know, Toby.”

One corner of his mouth briefly quirks up into a smirk before an involuntary jerk of his neck and scrunching of his nose pulls it back down again..

He pauses then, eyes widening slightly with something you can only describe as admiration as his eyes trail down to your sweet cunt, wetting his lips on instinct.

You don’t have a second to wonder what he’s doing before suddenly his warm mouth engulfs your cunt. In a split second it seems all semblance of patience has left his body. You cry out, throwing your head back as your back arches. You instinctively push your hips against him, grinding into his mouth.

“T-Toby—!”

Your fingers find his untamed thatch of brown hair in an instant, gripping tightly just how he likes. He moans as you call out his name, his voice sending vibrations through your cunt. He’s an excitable, messy eater, lapping at your cunt with need and not bothering to try and hide the wet squelching sounds his mouth makes as his tongue slides in an out of you, lips curling around the mound of your pussy and the tip of his crooked nose bumping your swollen clit.

“Fuck…mmh…” He groans under his breath, not once losing contact or pulling away, “Y-You have no idea how m-much— m-mumble, mumble— much I-I love this boycunt…t-tastes sooo, s-so— so sweet…could just…just— j-just eat it for hours…”

He’s slurring his words already, speech messy and scattered at the words carelessly flow between his lips and down his chin like water over the edge of a cliff. His mouth is already soaking, drool leaking from his mouth and gash combined with your slick arousal.

You squeal when you feel his two of his fingers prod at your entrance, anxiously pushing through and wasting no time reaching as deep as they can. Your entire body tenses and your back arches involuntarily against the counter as his digits twitch inside of you, slipping in and out at an excited pace.

“C-Careful, Toby,” You stammer. He gives only a quick nod in reply before pushing in a third finger, the tip of his tongue now flicking at your clit. A thick mixture of his own spit and the juices leaking from your cunt is dripping down his chin and running down his neck.

The hand not nestled in his hair is bracing you against the counter, gripping the marble hard as you struggle to keep yourself steady. You’re resisting the urge to just collapse with each shockwave Toby’s tongue and fingers send through your throbbing pussy. His free hand is grabbing at your sides and hips, half trying to keep you up and half groping you for his own pleasure. He spreads his fingers out inside of you, stretching you as much as he can as he readies you to take his cock.

When he finally pulls away you’re struggling to breathe, chest heaving with heavy gasps as you recover. He stands back up to his full height, towering over you and not even bothering to wipe his mouth before he captures your lips in a heated kiss. You could care less about the feeling of your own viscous arousal against your lips; there’s no room for disgust in your lust-filled brain.

Toby’s panting as well when he pulls away, licking his lips before speaking.

“You s-sss-see how sweet you t-taste?”

You mimic his gesture, tongue darting out to lick over your own lips. You shyly nod, and a crooked smile spreads across his face.

“C’mon, b-bend over f’me,” He says, giving your side an encouraging pat.

You happily comply, laying yourself over the counter and arching your back a bit. You shiver at the familiar sound of his belt unbuckling, then his fly coming down, and then that wonderful sigh of relief he lets out when he pushes down his jeans and boxers in one go. Not even a second later his tip is pressing against your cunt.

He leans over you, nuzzling into your neck and wrapping his arms around your middle.

“You ready?” He whispers, and you nod without thinking.

He immediately pushes inside of you, groaning into your ear as you tense, nails digging into the flesh of your palm as his cock stretches you. The bulbous head manages to bully its way into your cunt, and you can feel the veins on his shaft as they brush against your walls. The crooked Prince Albert piercing adoring his tip scrapes against your cervix and pulls a drawn out moan from your glistening lips.

Toby curses to himself as he bottoms out, finally pushing in as far as he can go. You can feel his cock twitching with need inside of you as it acclimates to your tight hole. He’s clinging to you like his life depends on it, fingers pressing into the ample flesh of your soft tummy and sides.

A choked noise claws its way out of your throat as he slowly pulls back, your cunt squelching and dripping as his cock recedes to the head, pausing for a moment before pushing back in. You cry out with a broken call of his name, your plump body pushed hard into the counter that’s currently keeping you from collapsing into a heap on the floor beneath your lover.

Toby’s lanky body practically engulfs yours as he ruts into you over and over again, slowly but surely getting faster with each thrust as he faces less and less resistance from your pussy, the slick canal gradually being molded to the shape of his cock. He’s huffing and moaning in your ear, not at all shy or ashamed to be vocal for you.

“Nngh…I-I don’t think I’ll—Fuck! Shit!—I’ll ever— e-ev-vvv-ver get used to t-this perfect fff-fuckin’ boycunt…Goddamn…!”

He’s grabbing all over your body, hands moving feverishly between your chest and stomach and hips as he squeezes every inch of hot skin he can find.

“Sooo fucking h-handsome,” He sighs in your ear, “I’m s-so fucking lucky that I-I get to— t-to love you like this-sss-s…”

He can hardly get the words out between his desperate mewls, needy sounds that he couldn’t keep at bay if he tried. He’s drooling again, unable to focus on muscle control as his base instincts take over, screaming at him to just forget everything else and fuck you like you deserve to be fucked.

You reach up to gently push his cheek against your own, pressing a kiss to his jaw and making him whine. He turns his head to kiss you once more, tongue pushing past your lips and allowing you to taste the last remnants of your soggy cunt on his tongue.

His cock reaches every bit of your insides, pushing in so far you swear you can feel it in your stomach. With each thrust he only speeds up more and more, rambling on and on about how amazing you feel and how badly he needs this perfect boypussy.

“So beautiful,” He chokes out, eyes starting to roll back in his head, “S-So fucking beautiful…all thick and p-perfect…fuck, a-ah—!”

He’s starting to lose his pace, and fast. One of his hands slowly slides down your stomach, his middle finger pawing at your clit. You cry out at the unexpected stimulation and your knees nearly buckle beneath you, prompting Toby to tighten his grip on you just in case you can’t stand yourself up anymore. He rubs your clit in soft circles, just the way you’d taught him all that time ago. Just the way you like.

“Nngh—! T-Toby,” You stammer, barely able to get the words out, “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna…!”

“I-I know,” He replies in a rush, “I-I wanna—want it! want it!—w-wanna feel you cum around me…p-please, please…?”

God, how can you deny him when he begs like that?

You start to push back against him in time with his thrusts, assisting him in sheathing himself inside of you and savoring the wonderful fullness. Your legs are shaking obviously now, and you have to fight to keep yourself up even with Toby’s help. He’s not too steady himself.

He’s started to rub your clit a bit harder, no longer able to focus on keeping his pace steady with his fingers nor his thrusts. The constant shifts in pressure and speed are only pushing you to your release faster.

He’s whining endlessly in your ear, slurring his words as he drones on and on about how handsome you are, how much he loves you, how grateful he is that he’s the only one who gets to fuck this precious little cunt.

He’s barely keeping time now, any sense of rhythm forgotten as he desperately ruts into you over and over again. He’s almost at his limit, not far behind you.

“Toby,” You gasp, “Please, I-I’m gonna—!”

“Do it,” He growls, “D-Do it, please, lemme f-fff-feel that pussy tighten around m-me…”

Just his words, the clear desperation and need in his voice, is enough to push you over the edge. You manage one last cry of his name before you cum around his twitching cock, cunt squeezing and convulsing as you struggle to cope with the wave of pleasure washing over you with more force than you were ready for.

Toby curses under his breath and sputters out what you think is a warning, but you can barely hear him with the way your head is spinning. That’s what makes it all the more jarring when suddenly he’s releasing inside of you, the fullness of his cock replaces with the thick warmth of his seed spilling into you deeper than you ever thought possible. He groans as his thrusting lazily slows to a stop, leaving you both sweaty and panting.

He releases his death grip on you, but keeps his arms around your middle. He nuzzles against your cheek with a sigh. He shifts slightly, and you cringe a bit when you feel some of his cum dripping out of you.

“You’re s-so beautiful baby,” He mumbles against your skin, clearly just as fucked out as you are, “So fucking…p-perfect…my h-ha-handsome boy…”

You give him a tired smile, pressing a little kiss to his warm cheeks.

“I know, Toby. I know.”

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

#creepypasta #ticci toby #chubby reader #trans masc reader #male reader #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta smut #toby rogers #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby smut

676 notes · View notes