#absolutely HAD to get these guys written down
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okay okay i need to talk about this for a second
SO for one thing. this is also a book. i did not get very far into the book before giving up, for what it's worth. for context i have read about 35 of the original oz books
right. that being said. i have some stuff to say both about the content of the movie/book and the commentary said (everything i say is based on the book)
i definitely agree about ozma of oz (and about the missing scenes!) and i had no idea about the weird changes to princess langwidere? i actually loved her so much in the books i think she's so so so cool. the name change is fucking awful.
ABOUT THE OZMA THING. OH MY GOD
im going to talk a bit about the marvelous land of oz so that it's understood how this was absolutely butchered. first of all, as said by previous rebloggers, the storyline is of tip, the protagonist, who's a little boy living alone with this woman mombi (the real one, also the fifth wicked witch) and she gets this powder of life, fast forward fast forward tip carves a wooden figure and sticks a pumpkin on its head to scare her and she puts the powder of life on it and jack exists!
(i will agree that jack pumpkinhead as a character is literally just a guy /pos. i love him so much. shaking him violently)
anyways, jack refers to tip as his father and that's probably where that part of the movie expanded from. fast forward, at the end it's revealed that tip was princess ozma, the correct ruler of oz, and she had been kidnapped at birth and changed into a boy and it was all just one big trans allegory and i love her
so for the entirety of the books she like. is a kid. but yeah
in the third book, ozma of oz, the nome king (aka roquat) turns almost all of the characters into various little tchatchkies and they have to figure out which thingamabob is which person, which is presumably where the movie got the whole nome king turning everyone into statues thing.
the wheelers are actual guys! their design in the movie actually doesn't seem to be *too* inaccurate as far as costumes and makeup goes? so that's actually pretty interesting. i think they look kinda cool based on the images i've seen honestly :PP
okay. lets talk about tiktok
in the books, he's almost what you're describing. he has the key for moving, the key for talking, they key for thinking, and he does often wind down. HOWEVER. while there is a one-man army of oz, this is the soldier with the green whiskers. and he is SUCH a guy. tiktok is just kinda a character with a cool design, cause he's entirely clockwork. and the way he talks is written out really interestingly because he talks very haltingly and robotic (for obvious reasons) and he has to be wound up again every so often when he talks for a while
ALSO. ALSO ALSO ALSO i just noticed the gump in the image at the very top. the gump is made of two couches, the head of an "elk-like creature", palm branch wings, and a broom for a tail, also brought to life using the powder of life
anyways, this is getting really long so. i guess in summary this movie is awful and a completely misguided and incorrect representation of the books and if you're looking for a good sequel to the wizard of oz please just. read the books. please. theyre so good
What the heck, I’ll give it a shot.
How bad could it be?
#im really normal i promise#i definitely forgot to mention some stuffs but its fiiiine#if anyone wants to talk about the wizard of oz please please please please please please please please please please please#wizard of oz#ozma of oz#the marvelous land of oz#return to oz#long post
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obsessed part two
bokuto x reader
(afab. this is the most comfortable i write in. i try my best to make it as gender neutral as possible and not give any description of the reader. lmk how i can do betterrrrrr)
- authors note: you guys really liked part one. so abt to write a SINFUL part two ☺️☺️☺️
part one -link here!
LABELS: smut omg smut. i’ve never written anything smut so don’t judge pls 😩😩contains, making out, oral sex, sex.
walking to school the next day was a pain. bokutos mind was filled with the guilt of what had happened last night.
he jerked off to the girl in his class, who he still has yet to talk to.
ashamed was an understatement. he was embarrassed and felt inhumane. it was even worse because the problem still hadn’t gone away. he still thought of you in the worst ways. he couldn’t help himself.
closing the distance between him and his class room, his eyes narrowed in on you. the guilt was overwhelming. but you looked so cute in your uniform.
entering the classroom he groaned to himself. sitting down at his assigned desk, putting his hands over his face to try to hide his frustration.
he just liked you so much that it was truly embarrassing. he was bokuto koutarou! one of the top aces in high school volleyball. no girl should have his attention like this.
i am not a man, he thought to himself, hands still covering his face.
“ahem…” he looked up at the person trying to get his attention.
to his absolute shock, you were standing right infront of his desk.
“hi…” you said to him waiting for a response…. the response never came as bokuto just looked up at you mouth agape.
“i didn’t know you were so shy!haha” you try playing off to make it less awkward. his silence seemed to be maybe a message for you to just walk away. and yet you stayed begging for his presence.
“well i’m yn, and i didn’t know if you noticed but we have a partner project in this class…. and we were paired up yesterday…. and before i could figure out a plan with you, you walked out of class before i could talk to you yesterday.” you felt yourself ramble on for what seemed like far to long. his silence was draining.
from what you heard from most people, your schools ace was a huge standout. most calling him extroverted, crazy and annoying.
but right now he sat infront of you saying not a word.
finally he spoke up “oh..” he said. that’s literally all he said.
you stayed for a little longer, watching his face grow into a friendly smile.
“it’s nice to meet you yn! i’m so sorry i didn’t even realize we had an assignment together!! HAHA well don’t worry we can get it figured out. also sorry about yesterday i just rushed off to practice without a second thought” bokutos voice boomed throughout the class room.
you let out a sigh of relief. maybe he was just waking up still? but he sure does seem awake now..
“we can only work on the assignment out side of the school hours…. if your comfortable with it you can come over to my house tonight and we can work on it.” you say smiling down at him.
bokutos prayers have been answered. everything he has ever worked for is being rewarded back to him now.
“yes.!” bokuto replied without hesitation. smile still beaming up at her.
“here’s my number, text me after this class gets out.” you say to him. stealing his phone and saving your contact in his phone. you were a little forward. bokuto was practically gushing.
with that you walked back to your desk and started talking with your friends.
bokuto was so happy he could scream.
the day went on, after you two had agreed on a set time for him to arrive at your house he was counting down the minutes.
he would have to come over after he practiced, meaning he would also have to go home to shower before hand.
it gave you more time to get ready before he made it to your house.
secretly, you had been honing a crush on bokuto for awhile now. when your teacher announced that you two would be in a group together you were thrilled. but when you looked over to bokuto, he seemed… upset.
his face was hard to read. it was a mix of tired, guilt, and anger. you chose to not introduce yourself to him until class was out, not wanting to make a fool of yourself. but before you could he had already left.
that’s why you were so nervous. he was so big, not just tall. that man was beefy. in all the right ways. and you couldn’t even tell if he liked you at all.
of course you would glance at him time to time in class, even showing up to some of his games in previous years. you noticed him.
analyzing yourself in your mirror. checking the time ever so often.
you had taken a shower, got out of the shower and did all your duties to look the best you could. sporting yourself in a way you were most confident.
also going to the measure of cleaning your room. everything had to be perfect.
before you new it your doorbell rang. you rushed to the door, opening to a freshly washed bokuto.
he had on grey sweats and a black hoodie. his hair was still a little damp from his shower, so it wasn’t spiked up in its usual manner. his bangs clung to his forehead.
“heeeLLO” he said to you voice getting a little louder as his word continued.
“hi” you said to him while still looking him up and down. it was a little obvious you were checking him out.
you quickly let him in and gave him a tour of your home. making a mental note to leave your bedroom for last. making a b- line for your kitchen you offered him somthing to drink.
his presence alone was enough. he was just soo huge. you felt his gaze after every corner you took.
“uh yes water is fine.” he said, way more calm.
you got him a glass and sat on your counter top. he was infront of you leaning his back on your cabinet.
as he drank he held a comfortable eye contact with you.
“how was practice?” you spoke up.
he reached forward and put his glass next to you, then leaned back to his formal position.
“i did way better then i did yesterday i can say that much.” he said with a chuckle. his voice was low. deep.
“what happened yesterday?” you asked.
he seemed a little taken back from your question. but it was only a second of that expression that was followed with a smile.
“oh i just didn’t do my best. my teammates say i get in my own head sometimes but even my worst is not that bad soo” he said with a low chuckle again. his grin never really left his face.
he was confident in himself that was forsure. you thought you should atleast see where you stand with him. gathering up all the confidence you had to flirt with him just a tinyyy bit.
“oh so you must be gooood.” you say leaning forward a little, still perched on your counter top. you made sure you arch your back a little, even though he couldn’t see it from where he was sitting. you applied the action anyways.
bokutos ears perked up a little. he sure did love flattery.
“i mean, yeah. i’m pretty good.” he said non chalantly. leaning forward a little more as well.
“tell me bokuto, how good are you?” you asked. leaning just as much as you could without falling off the counter top.
“oh i’m pretty good. but i can’t tell you how good i am… it’s something you have to experience yourself.” he said, smug. grin still on his face.
as he spoke he had stopped leaning against your counter top.
he got closer to you, your heart beat picked up. he then picked up his hand, reaching out.
just as you thought he was going to touch you, he picked up his glass beside you. blushing your thigh in the action.
he picked up his glass and finished the rest of his water with a gulp.
smug bastard. you thought to yourself.
you then got back onto your feet and started walking out of the kitchen. bokuto taking that as his note to follow behind you.
you silently led him to your room. anticipating whatever came next.
as you waked bokuto stared. he stared at your ass, your hips, your waist. anything he could look at he took a mental picture of.
this could be the only time he was this close to you. he thought.
opening the door to your room you, you showed him around.
“you can sit anywhere your comfortable with, but i did get an extra chair for you at my desk.” you say to him. going and taking a seat next to the school work you had already laid out.
bokuto was taking in everything. your posters, your decorations, anything you had in their he was saving in a file in his brain.
he finally sat down next to you.
you started going over the project, he would follow your words with some “hmm” or “ook” but overall he didn’t seem very into it.
all bokuto could think about is you stuffed full of his cock. really it was a shame. you were talking to him and that’s all he could think about. he watched your lips as they instructed him. that’s all he really watched.
“bokuto.” you said in a firm voice.
“are you even listening?” you said to him slightly annoyed.
“uhh yea…” he replied guilt sinking in once again.
he was evil. he wanted you. he felt as if you had just teased him in the kitchen too. he wanted to get you back. bad.
he licked his lips. confidence surging through him for a second. he opened his mouth to say somthing.
but the words never came. blush flooded his face. you probably think he’s stupid at this point.
“you are so pretty.” he said quickly. it came out of nowhere. he didn’t even mean to say it. he was so embarrassed!
but there was no way you were gonna know how embarrassed he is. no, bokuto koutaro never gets embarrassed!
you stare back at him. confused. but to all honestly. you were aching for him. his frame so close to yours, made you painfully aware of how big he was.
and he just called you pretty. what even in your next move! what are you supposed to say to that!
“y/n…” he said quietly. it was soft. he had gotten closer to you then you realized. you could feel his breath on your lips.
“bokuto…” you whispered back to him. the distance was painful.
before you could register he had his lips on yours. closing the gap. you locked your lips with his. it was just a quick kiss. romantic if anything.
you two pulled away. staring him in the eyes, there was a hunger.
“i need more” he said before grabbing you cheeks and closing the distance again. you were shocked. this must be a dream.
your hands found his body. scooting as close as you could without falling off your chair. one of your hands found his bicep. the other on his shoulder.
the kisses grew hungrier. his pace picked up. you gasped when his hand found your thigh. it was a comfortable position.
he took this chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. you purrred against him.
your touches grew with sexual tension. you parted for a second to catch your breath. a line of saliva connecting you two.
“c’mere” he said scooting his chair back alittle. signaling you to get out of your chair.
you stood up waiting further instruction.
he reached up and grabbed your hips pulling you closer to him. he was still seated, legs apart.
you felt like you were on fire. his eyes took in all off you. his hands rubbed your hips. even going a little farther to pinch at the fat of your ass.
“wanna sit on my lap?” he said tilting his head to the side. you shook your head and slowly made your way to his lap. you were positioned so you could face him.
his hands cradled you, finding your curves.
“you think i’m pretty?” you said to him bringing your hands to his jaw.
“you have no idea.” he breathed out.
finding his lips again except the tension in the room was now thick. you were growing a pool in your panties. every touch of his fingers was doing numbers to your core.
without knowing it you slowly started to grind yourself against him. you only noticed when you felt bokuto grow underneath you. his hands moved to your ass. grabbing at it.
then his hands slowly fell even farther. coming concerningly close to your core.
“y/n…. can i…?” he parted quickly. out of breath begging you for more.
“yes bokuto.” you moaned out to him. still grinding your hips against him.
“do whatever you want” you moaned out throwing your head back. you were growing needy.
without any words bokuto grabbed you and picked you up. putting you down on the bed.
your back was on the bed with your legs folded to your chest. he had ahold of your shins.
he was standing above you grinning like a kid in a candy shop.
“i’ve been waiting for this.” he stated.
his fingers graced over your core, you sucked in breath.
“you have?” you whimpered out.
“i have liked you for quite sometime. i have even dreamt of doing somthing like this too you. y/n… you have no idea.” he said while taking off your pants. you were left in only your underwear. then he started working on your shirt, pulling it off over your head.
now being left only in your bra you felt very conscious of everything.
“fuck…” he said to himself seeing you drenched through your panties. this was truly his dream.
“can i?” he said before continuing.
you shook your head yes.
he touched your clothed core with a certain grace. seeming like he was afraid to hurt you. you moaned out at his touch.
your ass was almost off the bed when he slowly came to the ground squatting on two knees.
you soon realized what he wanted to do.
“bo… you don’t have too” you said painfully, when al you really wanted was his tongue on your cunt.
“i want to.” he said before stuffing his face into your core.
you still had your panties on but the friction was just too much. you moaned out back arching for him.
he was hooked. he circled anything he could with his tongue, even taking breaks to kiss your stomach. he finally took your underwear off.
staring at your naked core he was in love. he wanted to be the only man to ever see you like this.
experimentally he blew on it, seeing your body react and you moan out. he loved his life.
diving back into you he licked all of you. slurping up your juices, sucking at your clit. taking every angle he could to make you feel good.
“more…” you whimpered out.
he brought his fingers up to your hole without warning. he played with our rimming a finger around your clenched spot. sticking it in you he stucked on your clit simultaneously.
you moaned out. it was really too much. your core was building up at a fast rate as his finger pumped in and out of you.
he stoped and stood infront of you again. you looked up at him wondering why he had to hault your pleasure.
he took off his hoodie and sweats leaving himself in just his boxers.
and oh. my. god. he was wonderful. he was everything you could ever dream.
“bokuto… i need you.” you told him.
he was on fire right now. you were sprawled out on the bed, cunt for his to see.
“fuck… you drive me insane.” he said pulling his boxers down to free his length.
“oh my god” you moaned out. it was huge. there was no way that was going to inside you. his one finger did the job, so what is that thing even going to do to you.
“cmon baby you can take me.” he said lying down next to you on the bed. you crouch up on your knees.
“ride me.” he demanded.
you positioned yourself on top of him. grabbing at his his abs as you mentally prepped yourself for what was gonna be inside you.
slowly you reach down for his cock. he had already been stroking it.
you touch it and he lets in a sharp gasp of air. you give it a good couple pumps
“hah” he moaned out. you had kept eye contact the hold time you entered him in you.
lowering yourself as best you can. his face was of euphoria.
“bokuto… your tooooo big hah” you moaned out to him.
“call me koutarou” he gasped out.
you found the strength to get him in you. bottoming out you clenched around him.
“fuuuck kou” you moaned out. you started grinding yourself against him.
it was the best pain you had ever felt.
“your beautiful. oh my god.” he said as his hands found your boobs.
pulling your bra down and bringing his lips to your hardened nipples.
your back arched for him. you moaned out louder and louder.
bouncing against him. this was all he ever wanted. he was in heaven.
you felt that familiar coil in your core tighten up again.
and bokuto could tell. he felt your walls clench around him as your threw your head back.
before he could think about it he changed positions. throwing you on your back and into a missionary position.
he took it to himself to start pounding into you.
“kou… nnnits too muchhch” you moaned out. it was almost hard to hear because of the sound your pussy was making.
“cmon. you can take it” he grunted out, slamming himself into you.
you moaned more. eye contact the whole time he fucked you.
the way you clenched around him was almost painful. but he could tell you were close.
he brought his fingers to your sensitive bud.
“cum for me. come on baby you can do it.” he grunted.
“come on my cock.” he grunted even more.
you were so close.
“your mine, understand?”
that sent you have the edge. you clamped around him spasmsing through your orgasm.
bokuto barely pulled out in time to cum on your stomach.
“i’m yours im yours im yours…” you babbled off to yourself.
fuck.
you were both drained.
who ever thought this is where you would be.
he got up to get a tissue for you to wipe you off. then coming over to press a kiss to your forehead.
“i’ll be right back” he said he before he left.
he came back with some water and helped you up.
“what’s going on?” you asked still faint from your orgasm.
“i started a shower for us!” he beamed at you.
yep. he could definitely be the one for you.
………………………………………………………………………………….
- WOWWWWW WHAT DID I JUST WRITE! this is my longest and still some of my first works i’ve put out. well i hope you like it also. comment any ideas you guys have for me!
#haikyu x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#daichi x reader#haikyu fluff#haikyu manga#daichi sawamura x reader#anime#manga#haikyuu smau#bokuto#msby bokuto#bokuto x you#bokuto koutaro x reader#bokuto smut#hq bokuto#bokuto x reader#haikyuu bokuto#bokuto koutarou#bokuto fluff#smut#haikyu smut#haikyuu smut#twt links#bokuto x y/n#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x reader smut#haikyuu x y/n
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Practical Joke Gone Wrong
Felix loved his slides that he had purchased last month from the store. They were so comfortable to walk in. No matter what surface he was walking on, his feet had the best comfort. They were the best pair of shoes he owned and loved to wear when he didn't want to wear socks. He didn't know how they got the material to be so durable, but he was glad. He definitely intended to keep this pair of footwear for a long time.
Andrew was barely hanging on mentally. This was one practical joke that went so wrong. He found himself sold to some random guy and used as his footwear. He could feel everything beneath the heel and feet pressing down on the insole. It was a painful experience every day.
He had to deal with whatever surface his owner was stepping on, being pressed up against the sole of his shoe form. Even the tiniest pebble hurt. Having his owner's feet pressed down on his insole face was the worst. Some days, his owner's feet really reeked. If he had a physical mouth, he would be gagging for fresh air. The pressure of his constant stepping made the experience even more painful. The days he really hated were when his owner would go shopping. He would sometimes be out all day long. That sometimes meant sweaty feet and odor he would be forced to inhale and taste all day long. Being his owner's footwear was something he would never wish for. Unfortunately, the guy was completely clueless as to what his feet were doing to him. All he knew was that he bought a normal pair of leather slides. Ever since the guy bought him and walked out of the store wearing him, his fate was permanently sealed.
30 DAYS EARLIER......
Andrew and his buddy Greg were always playing jokes on each other at work. One time, Greg messed with Andrew's lunch by putting diced hot peppers in it. Andrew would get him back by hiding his shoes when he found him napping on break. It was their usual thing for them.
This time, Greg decided to do a big practical joke on Andrew. When he wasn't looking in the store room, he used his TF Pro App and turned him into a pair of leather slides. He placed him in a shoe box with a price tag on it. "You look like a nice pair of shoes." He paused, looking at Andrew in his new form and laughed. "Don't worry, it's not permanent, I will be back in a few minutes to change you back." He placed a top on the shoe box. He put a sticky note on the box that had 'not for sale' written on it.
Andrew was so pissed at Greg for this new practical joke. He couldn't move or speak. He was stuck in this form in a dark shoe box. But he knew his buddy would change him back after another good laugh at his new look.
Two minutes later, Andrew saw another employee open the top of the shoe box. The employee had taken the sticky note and tossed it in the trash. After examining him, he placed him back in the box with the top back on.
The next time that Andrew saw daylight, he saw a random guy holding him in his hands. Apparently, the guy loved how he looked as leather slides. He hated what would come next. The guy slides his bare feet inside him. Being worn on his feet was new to Andrew, and he absolutely hated it. As the guy walked around on him, he heard the guy say how he was impressed with the shoes and decided he would buy them.
Andrew was mortified at that moment. He didn't want to permanently be a pair of shoes for a random customer. But he was powerless and voiceless to stop it from happening. He hoped Greg would rescue him before the guy actually purchased him. Minute later, the sale was rung up, and the customer paid the cost. The customer decided to wear him out of the store since he was so impressed with the level of comfort his feet got. Andrew could only mentally weep as the guy put him on his feet and started to walk out of the store.
As the guy was walking out, Andrew could hear in the background, Greg asking about a shoe box that had a sticky note on it. But Greg was too late to stop what had occurred as the customer cleared the door and kept walking, completely oblivious of the fact that he just bought living footwear.
#submission#inanimate transformation#foot domination#shrinkage#tf story#permanent transformation#unaware foot domination#unwilling permanent transformation
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Sometimes a family is a butch lesbian hitman, a detective who is SO sick of these guys, and a hedonist little freak
#fallen london#my partner made me and our pal start playing and I'm LOVING it#absolutely HAD to get these guys written down#art 🎨#Dinah Hewitt | The Pertinacious Pickpocket#Enoch Dawson | The Devoted Huntsman#Maury Malodrema | Mr Bees
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HELL YEAH!!
Gonna use this as an excuse to ramble a bit cause I love this lil fella so much…
Like I keep saying
Fusionfall has the BEST version of his character. It is NOT even close.
There’s just
SO much more to his character.
He HAD a bit of character in his debut episode
But Fusionfall makes him so much more well-rounded.
Yeah, you’ll occasionally have the world third person talk for some reason
But he’s like
Actually smart.
He actually STUDIES stuff related to magic.
He KNOWS his shit.
He is portrayed as THE most knowledgeable magic character in the entire game
Which
Says a LOT considering the roster.
He’s also incredibly crafty
Kinda being on par with the likes of the KND with how he utilizes average materials to benefit himself (even if uh… it most likely doesn’t work out for him since he’s trying to make himself look intimidating, but he’s trying, & that’s all that matters to me).
He’s incredibly snarky & smug, to such a pathetically adorable degree.
He keeps throwing around names like “child,” “human,” & “mortal” to make himself look like the tougher presence, even though he’s completely powerless in this point of Fusionfall’s story & he KNOWS it.
He copes SO hard, & it’s just adorable OQMWOSMSOXMMWOX
Not to mention
Just
I love when he genuinely gets invested in shit
Like his fuckin one sided beef with Billy.
Bro wants that kid DEAD, & it’s hilarious.
He FEELS.
He will try to be strictly logical & focus on the task at hand, but he STILL lets his emotions get to him.
Hell
Jack can’t even talk to Demongo himself cause Demmy is SO FUCKIN PETTY about his loss to the samurai that he doesn’t wanna even hear a PEEP out of the guy.
He’s so emotionally driven
& it’s only emphasized in his nano lines.
He isn’t like Aku, who is only fueled by hatred, pleasure in the suffering of others, & the occasional fear from getting killed by the samurai.
No.
When Demongo panics
He PANICS.
When he’s heartbroken
He starts SOBBING.
He can even get romantically attached if the stars ever aligned in his favor.
That’s not me being biased.
That’s just what his nano lines directly imply
& considering each nano is written to speak in a way that’s pretty much canon to their og counterpart (including Aku)
Any implications from the nano lines can apply to the original counterparts as well
& that is AMAZING to me, ya know?
That this DEMON
This guy who was birthed from the PIT OF HATE
Is written in a way where he can actively express a wide variety of emotions
But only seldom lets them show to ensure he can keep up appearances, just as he’s trying to do for at least 1/3rd of all his missions in-game.
He THINKS with his HEART!!
THIS is Fusionfall’s take on Demongo
& I LOVE him so much…
He is SUCH an adorable & interesting character that I wish we got to see more of.
I would’ve loved to have seen the original devs flesh out his character a bit more.
Like
Could you imagine if the og game touched upon the idea that he wasn’t working for Aku anymore?
That he at some point decided to be his OWN villain once Aku wanted nothing to do with him anymore?
& it makes him double down on keeping up appearances & growing stronger up until the invasion happened?
That would’ve been SO COOL to see such a concept unfold…
& maybe see Demongo be conflicted about whether he should return to Aku or not since he had some vital information on the resistance that the Shogun of Sorrow would have absolutely rewarded him for offering up, hence why Demongo did not confirm or deny working for Aku when the player & Jack question him on the subject.
Cause he legit doesn’t know his stance at that moment.
He’d love to have his safety ensured by Aku, but he had also grown to value his independence as well.
GOD, this game should have never been cancelled, bro…
The POTENTIAL!!!
I've been seeing alot of hear me out cakes so I've decided to make my own
#I love this man so much#we need more of him#somehow#Retrobution devs#please#give us more of peak#demongo#samurai jack#reblog
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I know it's supposed to be a very serious point of contention between Vash and Wolfwood but the way Wolfwood just continues to fill him with lead after already taking him out makes me snort
He's not getting back up! Just one bullet would've sufficed! Now you're just wasting money!!
#trigunbookclub#trigun#Wolfwood saw the guy get back up and draw his sword and said “no. absolutely not.”#the man is either so horrendously down bad for Vash that he dropped all pretenses of good behavior#or he is just THAT MAD about a dude bringing a sword to a gunfight lmao#and Wolfwood is once again NOT beating his “bad with money” charges#hope they keep this part in Stampede in some way because it really is over the top#repoast because I posted to the wrong blog oopsie daisy#had something written at the beginning but I forgot what it was :clueless:
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me when i write a character who is prone to dooming themself and then they run off and doom themself. core traits are stubbornness and a willingness to disregard their own humanity gET BACK HERE IM NOT DONE WITH YOU
#rambling#surprisingly this is not about jakob.. im just really consistent about my favorite character archetypes 😭😭#WARNING THE NOTES ON THIS ARE REALLY LONG I STARTED RAMBLING#“ouhh i have a headache i'll just lie down and rotate my blorbos in no general direction for a while until it goes away” and then boom.#serious plot considerations. 2 questions answered 24million new questions raised. this is specifically Not what i asked for.#so now im sitting here STILL dizzy running mental calculations on how i can get this bitch out of peril without reworking everything#but they literally keep dying in every timeline 😭😭 every single plausible road leads to them running off and screwing themself over#“character who doesn't realize they want to live until it's way too late to look back” VS#“character who is forced to live and handle the things they never though they'd survive long enough to deal with” FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT.#fucking hell i have never had this much trouble writing a character as i have with them#they genuinely do just run off and do shit without my permission and then i have to pace for an hour or two wondering#“ok they wOULD do that. but should they. do i feel like i can confidently write that.”#im like constantly in this tug of war trying to get them to CHILL#but also they are absolutely my favorite character from the entire project. but like. FUCK GET BACK HERE#is death the most satisfying end to this arc? is someone who was Set on dying then NOT dying the most satisfying end to the arc?#how many bridges can you burn until you irreparably set yourself aflame too?#would ghost or revival plotline work?? would it make sense with the worldbuilding??#do i just Like Them enough to want them to not die?? where do i draw the line between personal bias and a good arc?#is death not feeling as impactful as survival solely because i've been writing for so long that it's lost the initial impact?#and other such plot considerations...#im gonna have such an easy time writing another character though 😭😭 because THAT character's dynamic in the second act#is to stare at character 1 and be like “why are you like this. i mean i know Why but can you chill. please.” and like damn bro me too#actually wait no i think kaey.a is the hardest character i've ever written i take it back#had to worry about his 20million facades AND his Actual feelings AND canon compliance. shit is hard#i still havent finished the k/aeya fic i started back when the chasm first released which is uhh. two years ago. oops.#i think i struggle writing emotionally repressed liars i think thats what this is 😭😭 anyways.#(voice of guy who has been obsessed with nonlinear narratives and tragedies for several years):#“is it too much to kill this character in a nonlinear exploration game with tragic elements”#like bitch what are you talking about 😭😭 YOU'RE the target audience here figure it out#sorry the notes on this are just my writing journal now apparently
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red white and royal blue is the gayest thing i have ever seen with my own two eyes
#yes even above dan and phil#and i loved absolutely every second of it#some(most) of it sounded like a fanfiction written by a 14 year old#like a fanfiction made into a movie#like a disney movie for the gays#even had prince charming ;)#the guy who plays henry looks exactly like young al pacino and i could not get tf over it the entire time#still cannot get tf over it like#i just had to look up the what his name was in the movie#i was so fucking distracted by that and prince bottom that i never actually heard what his name was#its not henry lmao its alex oops#guys i was paying very close attention to this movie i swear#prince bottom is henry#al pacino is alex#omg why i am down bad please help#red white and royal blue#gayyyy#also uma thurman deserves to be president and Stephen fry had me peeing myself cause of course they got him to play the raging homophobe#why did i write this all in the tags instead of just making a post#the world may never know#and neither do i cause do you actually think that i think lets be real here
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I'm in fucking tears
Babe this is absolutely gorgeous, I am gonna cry about it for a while tbh, I have no words!!!
He had no idea he would be able to see himself in a song written by commoners and yet, he sometimes wondered himself why the Valar had created him. And he often wished they had not. It would save him pain and suffering that he was not able to speak of.
Oh yikes I'm in pain already
Because Halbrand most likely had broken such promises many times before and Sauron had planned that, too. But now, looking deep into her eyes, he suddenly wanted to change his mind. He did not want to be like Halbrand – he wanted to be a better version of him.
NOT THIS DARK LORD TAKING HALBRAND'S WIFE AND TREATING HER BETTER THAN HE EVER DID, WANTING TO BE BETTER FOR HER
I WANT TO DIE
“I don't deserve you,” he admitted and caressed her cheek gently.
The high pitched dolphin noises that came out of me, oh my lord, the softness??? The tenderness???
Humiliating it was and very humbling for the disciple of Aulë to be reduced to the role of a common smith's errand boy.
He needs to be humbled!!! But he does it for her!!!! God I am in pain, I am swinging from the ceiling
Sauron didn't think much in that moment as the primal instincts took over him. He hid his coins away and hurried to (Y/N)'s stand as he grabbed the rude man by his tunic and turned him around.
“Are you bothering my wife?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.
Mark me down as scared and horny!!! Love this for him, protective husband sauron gives me life 🙌🙌
“Oh, but it's different, is it not? This man deserves it,” Sauron hissed out and when he was sure that (Y/N) kept glancing at the guards, he allowed his eyes to transform into two snake-like orbs that visibly terrified the rude man.
OH MY GOD BABY NO (BABY YES)
That guy will be rocking in a corner for the next 50 years wondering who the hell he messed with
Hilarious
“If you think I am going to let some bastard treat you this way, love, then you are mistaken. If I must rot in that cell for a lifetime, then I shall,” Sauron shrugged his arms and Halbrand's wife looked at him as if he had just said something crazy.
It's the protectiveness for me!!!! Over some random woman he didn't give two shits about!!! How the tables have tabled!!!
He had been waiting for her to come and now he was shocked, nearly startled. As if he had forgotten already about his scheme.
Lmfao sauron pulling a 'new phone who dis' on galadriel
Sauron felt an odd tug inside his heart at those words. Even though going with Galadriel to Middle-earth and continuing his plan while leaving annoying (Y/N) behind would be an ideal outcome… He felt challenged now to refuse Galadriel just to show (Y/N) that he could do better than that.
It's the fact he cares about his wife's opinion more than galadriel's now, like holy shit I am clashing cymbals and blowing trumpets over here
“I know ye want to. Just go, claim the title that's not yours, go on. But don't be stupid enough to think she'd ever want ye the way ye want her. Please, husband, don't embarrass yerself by thinkin' she'd want a filthy, ragged commoner,” (Y/N) whispered but in her voice there was no malice – it was pure worry and concern. Love.
Nooooooo oh god my heart, bless her, like he's been better to her than her husband ever was and she's still like
Yeah go on then, off you go 😭😭😭
“I'm not that stupid,” Sauron approached her with hesitance and put his hands on her arms to comfort her. “I know you're the only woman who is crazy enough to love me.”
“But is that enough to make ye stay?” She asked and her lower lip trembled.
He did not answer but he pulled her close to his chest to wrap his arms around her and kiss the top of her head.
YES
SAURON/READER NATION, WE HAVE WON
Oh god this was so soft, my heart aches, they're so fucking cute wtfffff
What if it was a second chance for him? Not for Sauron, but for the real him – Mairon…? What if it was his chance to get redeemed? To be at peace finally as if all the suffering Morgoth had put him through had never taken place?
YES BABY IT'S ALL ABOUT BREAKING THE CYCLE
(Y/N) shifted slightly in his arms and he looked down at her face that was now lit up by the first rays of the rising sun getting through the window. At that moment, that common and simple woman looked like the most beautiful creature in the whole world to him. And she certainly felt like peace.
She felt like what, sorry???? Felt like peace, you say??? How about you come to my house and stab me slowly in person???
Dead. Just dead.
“What if I told you I was not your husband?” He tried to make it sound light-hearted as if he was jesting. “That I'm a spirit that took over his body at that time when he was away while the village was being attacked?” He looked down at her, nervously.
LMFAO LOL BABE WHAT IF I WAS A FORMERLY EVIL SPIRIT BENT ON WORLD DOMINATION??
It's like, would you love me if I were a worm, but on steroids 😂😂😂
“Ye're crazy, Hal,” she chuckled and opened her eyes lazily. Then, she tilted her head and reached her hand up to caress his hair. “But, mayhaps, I'd believe that, ye know? 'Cause ye've changed a lot since then,” she admitted and hesitated for a moment as she bit on her lower lip. “It doesn't matter, love. I love ye the way ye are now – more than I've ever loved ye, even though I didn't think it was possible,” she confessed and Sauron felt his heart swelling inside his chest as he leaned down to join their lips together in a loving kiss.
Fucks sake. Like she really said she'd love him as a worm.
My heart hurts again, thank you.
As he watched the ships sail away on that day, Sauron couldn't believe that he was simply letting them go. He saw Lady Galadriel standing in her shining armour, holding her sword. She was still glancing at him as if she expected him to jump into the waters and join them no matter what
I CANNOT BELIEVE
It was the first time ever when he felt… tired. In the simplest and most common way, he felt exhausted and his stomach seemed to demand to have a meal. He nearly fainted at the end of his shift and when he dragged his feet back home, he was yawning. Surely, it would worry him under any other circumstances but now he was simply too tired to overthink what could have caused it. Was it some sort of a curse put on him by angry Lady Galadriel?
WHAAAAAT
Is he becoming human??? Is that what's happening here, am I going to yell again
Sauron began to suspect that he was turning into a human for some time now but it took an unusual revelation to convince him that it was truly happening indeed.
FUCK
I am overwhelmed now.
Sauron took a deep breath in. She didn't understand – it was not about being fertile or not. It was about the fact he was a Maia and there was no possibility of him putting a baby in her without doing it with his own free will.
DADDY HALBRAND IM GONNA YELL AGAIN
Lmfao he was really like
Uhhhhh is my wife that I previously wanted to murder cheating on me??? *kill bill sirens*
“And you are going to be the death of me,” he chuckled and leaned in to peck her lips.
She was going to be. Literally.
This body would start growing old normally now and, eventually, he would pass away like every mortal. But maybe he would do that laying in a bed, holding her hand and surrounded by their children.
I AM UNWELL
He goes from murder plotting to nuclear family in the blink of an eye and I love this for him!!!
Oh god it's a gorgeous twist on the giving up immortality trope, I love it so much
When they broke the kiss, (Y/N) smiled widely and caressed her husband's cheeks lovingly. She looked ethereal at that moment and a crazy thought appeared inside of his head.
“Tell me, love,” he started and she raised an eyebrow at him, “are you a spirit sent to me from Valinor to lead me back on the right path? Have I passed the test?” He dared to ask and he could swear, there was a small sparkle lighting up her eyes for a short while. But then, she only laughed.
The way I literally did this
I'm headcanoning it now, I actually kinda love this as a twist, the Valar send him a test and he passes with flying colours so he can return to Valinor (but he refuses bc he'd be parted from his family in the afterlife and we can't have that)
He kept staring at her for some time more, then he went back to looking at the ceiling. And, eventually, he turned around as well to wrap his arm around the waist of Halbrand's wife.
His wife.
It was the "his wife" for me
I'm actually emotionally broken, like damn he really just adopted her as his wife, I'm??? Idek 😭😭
“I have something for you, too, Princess,” Halbrand assured her and took another item out of his pocket – a seashell made out of iron.
He had made sure it was crafted with the best precision and with all the tiny details, therefore it looked nearly like a real seashell. Only it was silver, which made it even better in his little girl's eyes.
GIRL DAD SAURON USING HIS SKILLS TO MAKE BEAUTIFUL TRINKETS FOR HIS DAUGHTER
IT'S THE WAY IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN
Aulë’s greatest smith using his skills for good not evil, I am emotionally compromised, I'm gonna go lie down
It was nearly as peaceful and beautiful as back in the day in Valinor. Mortals perhaps were not welcome there but, apparently, they could also experience wonders as marvellous.
MY HEART, HIS FAMILY ARE AS WONDROUS AS VALINOR, I'M GONNA GO CHEW CONCRETE
It would only bring her useless pain and he knew very well that her actual husband would most likely never do all these things he had done to make her happy. He would not love her right like he could.
Okay so he is the Deceiver, and of course it's based on a lie, but it might as well stay that way??
"He would not love her right like he could" once again, you come to my house and victimise me this way
After all, it was not the sunset but her and her brother that were the real wonders. And it was not Númenor that he called home but it was them – they were his better place.
THEY ARE HIS HOME I'M CRAWLING THE WALLS, I'M SWINGING FROM THE CHANDELIER
Love this was absolute gold, 10/10, 5 star, amazing
I love the softness, I really need it right now, it is healing my heart 💜💜💜
— SOMEPLACE BETTER (III)
PART ONE || PART TWO
PAIRING — Sauron x fem!human(?)!Reader
SUMMARY — Lady Galadriel keeps convincing Halbrand and his wife to change their minds and go back to Middle-earth but Sauron is starting to realise that this new life might be his chance to start all over and redeem himself.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — As I warned, in this part Sauron is very ooc but I'm a sucker for happy endings... I couldn't picture it any other way with a mortal Reader tbh... 🤷🏻♀️ Although, whether she is really a human or not – I let you decide and interpret it whatever way you wish! 😉💝 The song The Reader sings in this part is called Lonesome Road and I know it from Joan Baez but I changed the lyrics a little so they could fit the fantasy world better.
WORD COUNT — 4,570
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
SOMEPLACE BETTER (III)
Even though he thought Halbrand's wife had given up on him already, it seemed to be quite otherwise. The guards came to Sauron in the early morning to tell him that he was free to go under a condition to never start any fight on the streets of Númenor ever again. Next time, the Queen Regent would not be so merciful. And now, she would even give him a chance to prove his worth and earn the guild crest.
Apparently, (Y/N) had spent nearly the whole night begging and pleading after getting an audience.
Free to go anywhere he wanted to, he simply decided to walk back to his new home and wait there for Lady Galadriel to show up with the next idea or opportunity.
It was not going according to his plan – (Y/N) had made sure of it. But it was still going well enough and that was what mattered the most.
As he was approaching the house, he heard a familiar voice singing a song as the sound travelled through the open windows and out into the streets. The voice perhaps was not the most talented but it was not awful either and he found it oddly soothing to listen to.
Slowly and quietly, Sauron walked inside the house and leaned on the wall with crossed arms as he watched (Y/N) with a smirk. She had her back turned on him and had no idea he was there as she busied herself with brushing her hair in front of a small mirror and preparing to go to her new work.
And while doing so, she was singing. Sauron listened with curiosity because he had missed many new songs in the time when he had been regaining his strength to go back to the world of living.
And he had never been familiar with the songs of common people anyway.
“They say all good friends must part sometime. Why not you and I, my Lord? Why not you and I?” (Y/N) sang softly. “Oh, I wish to the gods that I'd never been born or died when I was a baby, my Lord… Or died when I was a baby,” she added and Sauron swallowed a lump in his throat.
He had no idea he would be able to see himself in a song written by commoners and yet, he sometimes wondered himself why the Valar had created him. And he often wished they had not. It would save him pain and suffering that he was not able to speak of.
“Oh, I wish to the gods that I'd never seen your face, heard your lyin' tongue, my Lord… Heard your lyin' tongue,” (Y/N) kept going with the song as she put some rouge upon her cheeks. “You better look up and down that long, lonesome road where all of your friends have gone, my Lord, and you and I must go…” she continued humming and then she jumped up at the sight of him standing behind her with crossed arms. “Oi, Hal, I haven't seen ye. Forgive me, I know ye don't like it when I sing,” she got nervous in an instant.
“I don't?” Sauron raised an eyebrow, surprised.
“Ye always say it's givin' ye headaches,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes with a sigh. “Anyhow, I'm off to work now,” she informed him with a sweet smile and approached him to place a kiss upon his cheek.
He let her but when she wanted to move away, he grabbed her wrists to keep her in place and she raised an eyebrow at him.
“What have you done to free me, love?” He asked in a whisper.
“I begged and pleaded for ye, Hal,” she answered. “Told the good Queen ye're naught but a man who wants to work, with a pride that's hurt. I promised ye wouldn't get in trouble again. An' ye better not.” (Y/N)'s eyes filled with pain as if she knew already he would break the promise.
Because Halbrand most likely had broken such promises many times before and Sauron had planned that, too. But now, looking deep into her eyes, he suddenly wanted to change his mind. He did not want to be like Halbrand – he wanted to be a better version of him.
“I don't deserve you,” he admitted and caressed her cheek gently.
“Start, then,” she challenged him with a cracked smile and patted his chest before going out of the house.
And even though Sauron was tempted to stay inside and wait for Lady Galadriel to show up, he walked out as well and went to the forge nearby where he was supposed to start his own training to be able to earn the guild crest.
Humiliating it was and very humbling for the disciple of Aulë to be reduced to the role of a common smith's errand boy.
When Sauron was coming back from work, it was getting dark already. He was walking slowly down the steps and whistling the very same song he had heard earlier that day – the one Halbrand's wife had been singing.
In his hands he was carrying a few coins he had earned on that day and he was playing with them by tossing them in the air and catching them swiftly right after. As he approached the harbour, he spotted (Y/N) standing by one of the wooden tables and selling the goods to the people standing in the queue.
He wondered why she was left alone by the stand but assumed the woman working with her was having a break. And the closer to the market he was getting, the more he could see how stressed Halbrand's wife seemed to be.
“You useless woman, you can't even count properly, can you?!” Sauron heard some man's harsh words due to the fact his hearing was much better than if he was truly human.
“I-I'm sorry, I'm still learnin'. How much do I owe ye, then?” (Y/N) was trying to sound nice.
“You're good for nothing, stupid wench,” the man spat out. “Where is Bellona?”
“She had to leave earlier today. Please, it is no big deal. Let me just give you back the money and–”
“You should go back to Middle-earth where low women like you belong,” the man interrupted her.
Sauron didn't think much in that moment as the primal instincts took over him. He hid his coins away and hurried to (Y/N)'s stand as he grabbed the rude man by his tunic and turned him around.
“Are you bothering my wife?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Hal!” (Y/N) squealed, looking nervously at the guards that were already coming their way after sensing trouble. “Let go of him, I beg ye! Ye promised me ye wouldn't–”
“Oh, but it's different, is it not? This man deserves it,” Sauron hissed out and when he was sure that (Y/N) kept glancing at the guards, he allowed his eyes to transform into two snake-like orbs that visibly terrified the rude man.
Sauron let go of his tunic the moment he heard the guards standing behind him and the man hurried away as quickly as possible.
“It's nothin', it's nothin'!” (Y/N) exclaimed at the guards. “I'm closin' for the day! Please, let us go.”
The men looked at each other but since the other man had run away and did not file any complaint, they just shrugged their arms and walked away alongside the rest of the people waiting in the queue.
“Ye promised!” (Y/N) gave Sauron a very scolding look as she busied herself with tidying up the stand and collecting the money.
“If you think I am going to let some bastard treat you this way, love, then you are mistaken. If I must rot in that cell for a lifetime, then I shall,” Sauron shrugged his arms and Halbrand's wife looked at him as if he had just said something crazy.
“Since when are ye so gifted with words, Hal?” She chuckled and shook her head. “Anyhow, in that cell, ye won't be 'round to protect me. Foolish, it'd be, but ye've never been the brightest, have ye?” she pointed out and Sauron gritted his teeth with an eye roll.
She kept blabbering to him about her day while they walked back to their house and even though it was a short road, it felt like forever due to her talking. However, Sauron was very surprised at the sight of Lady Galadriel sitting by the table when they entered the house.
He had been waiting for her to come and now he was shocked, nearly startled. As if he had forgotten already about his scheme.
“Oi!” (Y/N) put her hands on her hips. “Is it not illegal to sneak up on folk like that inside their own homes, Elf?!” She asked. “When'll ye leave us be, huh?”
“The Queen Regent agreed to gather the army. They will seek for the volunteers,” Galadriel announced. “People of Númenor might not need you, Halbrand, but when we arrive in The Southlands, a strong leader will be needed. Someone to unite and show the way.”
“Someone to lie, ye say,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes and finally closed the door behind her. “But go on, Elf, keep talkin'. I'm sure my husband'll agree sooner or later. Vain as he is, always has been,” she sighed as if she was defeated.
Sauron felt an odd tug inside his heart at those words. Even though going with Galadriel to Middle-earth and continuing his plan while leaving annoying (Y/N) behind would be an ideal outcome… He felt challenged now to refuse Galadriel just to show (Y/N) that he could do better than that.
“I have already told the Queen Regent who you most likely are,” Galadriel insisted, ignoring Halbrand's wife and looking deep into his eyes.
“You must be desperate,” he pointed out with a smirk and watched his angry wife unpacking the groceries from her wicker basket on the kitchen counter.
“Of course I am. And you should be, too. It is about your home. Why do you give up on it so easily?” Galadriel wondered out loud.
“It gave up on us long before we ever gave up on it,” (Y/N) turned around to answer her.
“This land was your place in Middle-earth. It was giving you vegetables to eat, grass to feed your animals with, clean water from the rivers…” Lady Galadriel pointed out.
“And what do ye know about it, grand Elf?” (Y/N) rolled her eyes at that. “It ain't easy work growin' yer vegetables an' keepin' yer animals alive. One bad winter's all it takes to take away yer loved ones, yer cows, horses, an' chickens. I've no love for that land,” she stated, harshly.
“You can change the fate of people who suffer like you have suffered…” Galadriel's voice softened. “As their Queen,” she tempted and Sauron raised an eyebrow, surprised to see how dirty she could play.
Nearly as dirty as him.
“Me? A Queen?” (Y/N) laughed at that. “I can't even read!” She only said and turned around again to deal with the groceries.
“Halbrand, please. They need you,” Galadriel stood up and put her hand on his shoulder before lowering her voice. “I need you,” she added and looked down before leaving the house quietly.
Long silence occurred between Sauron and Halbrand's wife.
“Go with her,” (Y/N) muttered.
“What?” Sauron looked at her, surprised. She turned around to lay her wet eyes on him.
“I know ye want to. Just go, claim the title that's not yours, go on. But don't be stupid enough to think she'd ever want ye the way ye want her. Please, husband, don't embarrass yerself by thinkin' she'd want a filthy, ragged commoner,” (Y/N) whispered but in her voice there was no malice – it was pure worry and concern. Love.
“I'm not that stupid,” Sauron approached her with hesitance and put his hands on her arms to comfort her. “I know you're the only woman who is crazy enough to love me.”
“But is that enough to make ye stay?” She asked and her lower lip trembled.
He did not answer but he pulled her close to his chest to wrap his arms around her and kiss the top of her head.
Sauron was laying awake all night long as usual, caressing the back of Halbrand's wife and staring at the ceiling. He knew they would gather the volunteers on the next day and he still was not sure what to do.
The path he had chosen for himself was not so certain anymore. He truly did not mind the life he had here in Númenor and even (Y/N)'s presence was becoming less and less annoying to him. In fact – even though she had no idea who he truly was – it felt oddly nice to be loved and taken care of. As simple as that.
He extended his hand to the nightstand and brushed the pendant laying there with his fingertips as he remembered the very first conversation he had had with the heraldry's original owner – Diarmid.
“A sure path may crumble, but there's always another. Often, it can lead us someplace better. Someplace good. They say there's a place across the sea, a man can escape himself. Find another path. Perhaps another life.”
What if it was a second chance for him? Not for Sauron, but for the real him – Mairon…? What if it was his chance to get redeemed? To be at peace finally as if all the suffering Morgoth had put him through had never taken place?
(Y/N) shifted slightly in his arms and he looked down at her face that was now lit up by the first rays of the rising sun getting through the window. At that moment, that common and simple woman looked like the most beautiful creature in the whole world to him. And she certainly felt like peace.
“Is it time to wake up now, love?” She mumbled out, sleepily.
“No, love, not yet. I will tell you when,” he assured her.
“Good,” she smiled and nuzzled her face deeper into him.
“(Y/N)?” Sauron swallowed a lump in his throat as he fidgeted with the pendant between his fingers.
“Hm?”
“What if I told you I was not your husband?” He tried to make it sound light-hearted as if he was jesting. “That I'm a spirit that took over his body at that time when he was away while the village was being attacked?” He looked down at her, nervously.
“Ye're crazy, Hal,” she chuckled and opened her eyes lazily. Then, she tilted her head and reached her hand up to caress his hair. “But, mayhaps, I'd believe that, ye know? 'Cause ye've changed a lot since then,” she admitted and hesitated for a moment as she bit on her lower lip. “It doesn't matter, love. I love ye the way ye are now – more than I've ever loved ye, even though I didn't think it was possible,” she confessed and Sauron felt his heart swelling inside his chest as he leaned down to join their lips together in a loving kiss.
As he watched the ships sail away on that day, Sauron couldn't believe that he was simply letting them go. He saw Lady Galadriel standing in her shining armour, holding her sword. She was still glancing at him as if she expected him to jump into the waters and join them no matter what.
He wondered why she was so drawn to him, even after (Y/N)'s big mouth had made it clear that he was not any forgotten king. Could Galadriel feel who he was, deep inside?
But who was he? He was not sure anymore.
So, he looked away and went back on the road that would lead him to the forge where he worked these days. He was told he would get his guild crest very soon because they were in awe of his extraordinary talents.
Not only talent was his quality, though. It was also how much he was able to work at once and without breaks. At least it had been this way until recently.
It was the first time ever when he felt… tired. In the simplest and most common way, he felt exhausted and his stomach seemed to demand to have a meal. He nearly fainted at the end of his shift and when he dragged his feet back home, he was yawning. Surely, it would worry him under any other circumstances but now he was simply too tired to overthink what could have caused it. Was it some sort of a curse put on him by angry Lady Galadriel?
“Halbrand!” (Y/N)'s worried tone brought him back to reality when he entered the house.
She hurried to him and cupped his cheeks with widened eyes.
“Love, ye're so pale, an' the bags under yer eyes… What happened?!”
“Nothing happened,” Sauron shrugged his arms. “I'm just tired, that's it. I nearly fainted,” he admitted and sat down on the chair, sighing out of relief to finally be able to rest a little.
“Well, that's no wonder! Ye've been eatin' half meals for weeks now!” Halbrand's wife pointed out in a scolding manner. “We're not starvin' anymore, Hal, ye don't have to keep givin' me yer portions!” She exclaimed and approached the stove to pour him a bowl full of soup. “Here, eat,” she ordered as she placed it in front of him.
And, for some reason, Sauron ate all of it in a blink of an eye. He even asked for one more portion as Halbrand's wife gave it to him gladly but not without more of her whining about him being irresponsible. Then he asked for another and after three bowls of her soup, he finally felt better.
His stomach was no longer hurting at least, but he was still sleepy.
“Go, take some rest, love,” (Y/N) shook her head. “Ye don't sleep enough, don't eat enough. At least ye're not drinkin' and gamblin' anymore, but ye can't go on like this. Do ye want to die before forty, Hal? I ain't lettin' that happen!” She continued with her usual whining and he rolled his eyes.
“How can I rest when you keep your mouth open?!” Sauron asked and she huffed but she went silent and left him alone in the bedroom as she went back to the kitchen to clean the bowl after his soup.
It was the very first time when Sauron fell asleep not out of boredom or the need of dissociation but out of exhaustion.
And when he opened his eyes again, it was the next morning already and (Y/N) was shaking him to wake him up.
“Halbrand! Ye're gonna be late for work!” She exclaimed.
“But… I'm still tired…” He mumbled out, not understanding what was happening to him.
“Like all of us working folk each mornin'!” (Y/N) laughed. “Come on, I'm not lettin' ye out without breakfast, go to the kitchen,” she hurried him and he rubbed his eyes before nodding at her.
Sauron began to suspect that he was turning into a human for some time now but it took an unusual revelation to convince him that it was truly happening indeed.
(Y/N) was grinning widely on that day when he came back home and she welcomed him by throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him all over his face as he tried to give back some of the kisses. When she finally stopped, she fixed his brand new guild crest and batted her eyelashes while looking up to stare into his eyes.
“What is it?” He asked.
“I think I'm expectin', Hal,” she told him, excitedly. “I wasn't sure but my friends at work said those are the very symptoms!” She added happily and he froze as he blinked slowly a few times, trying to process the new information.
“That is… Impossible,” he furrowed his brows.
“I used to think so, too. Married for so long with no babe of our own but I was wishin' and hopin' and here we are!” She clapped her hands like an excited child. “Perhaps it was that damned Middle-earth not being good for us, Hal, but here we can!”
Sauron took a deep breath in. She didn't understand – it was not about being fertile or not. It was about the fact he was a Maia and there was no possibility of him putting a baby in her without doing it with his own free will.
Unless…
“You're not sleeping around, are you?” He asked before he could think about the rubbish leaving his mouth.
(Y/N) froze at his words and her smile turned into a frown. She approached him at this very moment and slapped his face. Hard. He could feel it like any mortal would now and he admitted it truly hurt.
“How dare ye, Halbrand?! Ye wretched bastard! Even if ye meant to jest, that was uncalled for!” She raised her voice as he rubbed his cheek and winced out of pain.
“I'm sorry, love, I haven't thought before speaking. I just can't believe it…” He tried to excuse himself. “Please, forgive me.”
Her face didn't look so angry anymore but she didn't say anything and turned around without a word to walk away.
In fact, she didn't say a word to him for the rest of the day and only at night when she was deep asleep, he dared to touch her abdomen slightly with his hand.
He wasn't able to feel any presence there but these days he couldn't feel anything, to be honest. He couldn't hear nor see as much either. He was losing his abilities as time was passing.
Sauron kept his hand there, on the belly of Halbrand's wife, and he sighed. It was happening, whether he liked it or not. And he was not even sure anymore if he wanted it or not.
As he got lost in the train of thought, he realised that he had been caressing (Y/N) abdomen all that time without thinking. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled gently at him.
“Hal, ye son of a bitch,” she shook her head and giggled as she took his hand carefully and brought it to her lips to place a few small and sweet kisses upon his knuckles. “I swear, ye're gonna be the death of me.”
“And you are going to be the death of me,” he chuckled and leaned in to peck her lips.
She was going to be. Literally.
This body would start growing old normally now and, eventually, he would pass away like every mortal. But maybe he would do that laying in a bed, holding her hand and surrounded by their children.
When they broke the kiss, (Y/N) smiled widely and caressed her husband's cheeks lovingly. She looked ethereal at that moment and a crazy thought appeared inside of his head.
“Tell me, love,” he started and she raised an eyebrow at him, “are you a spirit sent to me from Valinor to lead me back on the right path? Have I passed the test?” He dared to ask and he could swear, there was a small sparkle lighting up her eyes for a short while. But then, she only laughed.
“Go back to sleep, ye madman,” she patted his chest lightly and turned around while laughing softly.
He kept staring at her for some time more, then he went back to looking at the ceiling. And, eventually, he turned around as well to wrap his arm around the waist of Halbrand's wife.
His wife.
Halbrand was coming back from work slowly while playing with the little horse forged out of iron in his hand as he hummed a song. The sun was setting slowly on the horizon when he approached the harbour where (Y/N) was slowly tidying up her stand on the market.
Her own one, that she had earned finally and was so proud of it as she was working for herself now and was able to bring more money home.
He watched her tidy up with a loving smile and their son was helping her while talking to her excitedly about something – his mouth would never close just like his mother's.
“Daddy!” He spotted him finally and ran up to him as (Y/N) chuckled.
“Hey, little man,” Halbrand crouched down to give his son a hug. “How was your day?”
“It was good!” The boy nodded. “I helped mummy a bit. And yours, daddy?”
“I made this for you,” Halbrand handed him the little horse and the boys' eyes sparkled at the sight.
“So pretty! Thank you, daddy!” He wrapped his little arms around Halbrand's neck to give him another hug and Halbrand patted his back.
“And for me?! For me?!” He felt something tugging at his tunic and he laughed at the sight of his excited daughter. He gave her a hug, too and caressed her ruffled hair as she gave him a toothless smile.
“I have something for you, too, Princess,” Halbrand assured her and took another item out of his pocket – a seashell made out of iron.
He had made sure it was crafted with the best precision and with all the tiny details, therefore it looked nearly like a real seashell. Only it was silver, which made it even better in his little girl's eyes.
“Thank you, daddy!” She giggled as she squinted her eyes at the shell and kept examining it under every possible angle.
“You spoil 'em way too much!” (Y/N) stood above him and he stood up to greet her with a short peck on the cheek.
“Somebody has to,” Halbrand answered playfully and his wife shot him a glance, which made his son giggle.
“Stop sayin' nonsense and let's go back home,” she shook her head and walked away slowly.
He watched his children follow her happily and he did, too, but much slower as he stared at the sun setting on the horizon. The sky looked like a canva full of pink and orange hues and he took a deep breath in at the beauty of it.
It was nearly as peaceful and beautiful as back in the day in Valinor. Mortals perhaps were not welcome there but, apparently, they could also experience wonders as marvellous.
And perhaps this whole life was built on a lie because he couldn't imagine telling (Y/N) the truth about who he truly was and that her real husband had been dead for years. That he had died because of gambling and drinking after leaving her alone when she was being attacked by the Orcs. There was no point in telling her even if she would somehow believe him. It would only bring her useless pain and he knew very well that her actual husband would most likely never do all these things he had done to make her happy. He would not love her right like he could.
“Ye comin', Hal?” His wife's voice brought him back to reality.
Halbrand nodded at her and joined her side to take his daughter by her little hand.
After all, it was not the sunset but her and her brother that were the real wonders. And it was not Númenor that he called home but it was them – they were his better place.
MASTERLIST
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i literally cant stop thinkin’ about highschoolbully!gojo who used to be your ride or die ‘til he started getting attention from those popular jock type guys who are always assholes to everyone. and him being.. well, him means he preens under attention no matter who it’s from, so naturally he started to gravitate towards that group and their little troop of cheerleading fangirls. and then he started distancing from you and without either of you really realizing it, you’ve slipped between the other’s fingers. but the way he acts towards you makes you think he let you fall without moving a muscle to slow you down.
soon enough, a year swings by and by the end of it he’s gone from your life, save as just another face in the gaggle of boys who make crude jokes and laugh at smart kids and pop milk cartoons during lunch just for the hell of it. but you’re minding your own business, ‘cause you’re mature enough to realize that people come and go, no matter how close you might’ve been and you think it’s unfortunate that so many memories could be thrown aside in a blink of an eye, but it makes a lot of sense when you walk past satoru and his friends bullying some random kid. you don’t know him, but you’ve heard enough to realize it’s his girlfriend satoru’s flirting with while his ‘gang’ kick at the kid. and it’s sickening, but you don’t say anything when you walk by.
and when you don’t ever see the kid afterward and catch the dark eyebags under his girlfriend’s eyes, you come to the cruel realization that satoru isn’t the boy who’d bandage the scrape on your knee you got from tripping in the playground or buy you a soda because he’s noticed your sweat when you were walking home and you don’t have any money left on you.
it’s a glass half empty, half full type of situation. on the one hand, you don’t have him anymore. on the other hand, you don’t have him anymore. that is, you lost your best friend, but you’ve also lost someone who has the potential to absolutely ruin your life. and you don’t know whether to be glad or not, so you just mind your own business even if it hurts a little when he ignores you, stops tossing paper at your head in class (unless it’s to embarrass you) and stops walking you to and from school.
but the cherry on top of the shit cake is that he doesn't get it. so when he approaches you in the library one day after satiating the need to tear pages from books and make them into paper airplanes to throw at people, he doesn't seem to understand why you try to ignore him, or put off his attempts to hold a convo. but the worst part is that he's just sleazy and clueless about it. it's like he took an eraser and wiped every single year of your friendship off the chalkboard with one fell swipe, and you wish he'd done that too to the less-than-appropriate messages he and his friends had written towards one of your classmates.
he doesn't understand why you're hesitant to talk, and that's what makes it the worst. he always thinks he's in the right, and he keeps setting you off and it sucks that he knows exactly what sets you off. "i'm an asshole? what're you talking about? really, you're in over your head. you never change." he laughs, and you ignore him, and he gets bored, and he's about to leave when he spots your wallet open next to your book, on the table. there's a polaroid peeking out, and he recognizes the tufts of white hair to be him. but there's a weird feeling in his chest, and he thinks he gets it from you, so he leaves because he thinks you're weird.
and it goes on; you practically become a nobody in satoru's eyes, because of that weird, weird feeling you give him. it's unfamiliar and he's never gotten it before and he doesn't like it. but it's unavoidable when your professor pairs you two for the end-of-term project. and of course, you're ready to do all the work, because that's how it always was between you when you were kids. but sometimes he'd surprise you by helping, and he'd show you that he was actually intelligent just to earn your praise because he liked it. but he ignored you, and you did everything, and it would've been okay if not for his friends egging him on to present your entire project when the day came and leave you with no content for a grade.
that's the first time it hits him: does he really want to do that? but it's not like it'll be the first time; you've always taken the hits for him, because you're naturally smart and you'll pick yourself back up in no time, and you get why he does it, so it'll be okay. so he agrees, and he enjoys the time he gets to spend with you through it, but the nagging weird feeling that blooms in his chest like a pesky weed only grows stronger. that's all his feelings ever seem to do around you.
but before you know it, presentation day swings around. you had coffee this morning (on his card), and you're ready enough to shoot him a small smile that sends his heart a-flutter. so you go up, feeling up to the task and ready until— he starts talking, and talking, and talking, and people don't think that he's taking your words out of your mouth because he's intelligent when he wants to make you praise him and you don't get the chance to get a word in and you notice the guys are laughing and hitting each other's shoulders to themselves in the upper rows and before you know it it's over. people are clapping but moreso they're looking at you and they're whispering— but it's terribly loud and they don't bother to hide it. they call you things that shouldn't bother you but they do anyway, because it's satoru's fault, and you're such a fool for thinking you could have it your way again.
so you leave class early, excusing yourself and ignoring the way your professor gives you a distasteful look and scribbles something next to your name. you're out the door in a second, neglecting your bags and satoru's a little lost because— didn't he just do good? people were clapping, and laughing with him and not at him, but it's attention either way so he doesn't mind. so why do you? why did you look at him like he stabbed you in the back? and his friends are calling his name, and he wishes he could chase after you and do something but he doesn't.
and it's a little sickening what they do next; one of their girls grabbed your bags and tossed it to them, and they've started rifling through it as if they own it, tearing up your shit and dumping everything onto the ground and he's kind of just... glued to the chair by his feelings. his heart feels like it's been patched together and the weird fuzzy feeling he had in his chest that's been cultivating has extinguished to be replaced with something he realizes he's only ever felt when it comes to you— guilt.
he's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't realize his friend is silently offering him something— nudging his side to get his attention. he takes it without really realizing he moved his hand, and his silent friend with the gauges in his ears and the dark hair gets up and leaves without another word. when satoru looks down, he realizes he's been given your wallet. "the reward for betraying your baby," they call it. like all you're worth is the money in your account.
he's a little curious. that's how he's always been; asking you questions, rummaging through your stuff, laughing sheepishly and shaking it off when you caught him red-handed. so he opens it up, ignoring your sad little cards and the funny look on your license. he's looking for something, subconsciously; but he doesn't find it. there's no white tuft of hair to suggest his presence in your life; just empty black leather. nothing else.
and he doesn't see you after. or the following day. or the following weeks; weeks that turn into months that turn into the end of school and he's graduating but you're not by his side. and neither are his so called 'friends'; the only thing he has to their name is your own ruined friendship. it's a shame; he feels alone. very alone. no fuzzy weird feeling, not even that thing people call guilt. no attention to chase, and connections are ever harder to make. it shouldn'tve mattered that much, right? it was just a presentation. why wouldn't you just come back to him like you always did? were you not still friends...?
but the blood is still on his hands, and he doesn't manage to ever wash it off. guilt has a way of festering; of weighing on the heart 'till there's nothing left to feel or think but unfortunate circumstance and what could've been done differently. it just sucks that he never tried hard enough to keep you from slipping between his grasp. and now, he doesn't even have a polaroid to your friendship's name.
pt.2
#idk where this came from#this has probably been done before so i hope this take is original enough 👨🍳#new drabble style cus i got lazy ajgfbdshjg#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x you#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x you#jjk x you#satoru gojo x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x y/n#technically#jjk angst#gojo angst#billet-doux#satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#satoru gojo#gojo#jjk satoru#gojo jjk
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I just spent some time scrolling through this blog and am suffering from sever laughter. Thanks so much for collating the countries craziest moments. One of my favourites is when Scott Morrison was in Hawaii while the bushfires where burning.
December 2019: As Australia's east coast is engulfed in the worst bushfires in living memory, rumours begin to circulate that Australia's Prime Minister Scott Morrison may have secretly fucked off for a holiday in Hawaii.
Keep in mind, this is what is going down in Australia at the time:
The Hawaii rumour is initially written off as a fringe conspiracy, because surely nobody could be that fuckin tonedeaf, and it was quickly forgotten about... until an Australian man visiting Hawaii UPLOADED A SELFIE ON THE BEACH WITH THE PM THROWING A SHAKA.
At which point all hell broke loose.
Overnight the formerly popular "Scomo" became the most despised man in all of Australia. Think "firefighters shouting out of their windows to news cameras" level of despised.
After about two days of radio silence and pretending like he was still at home running the country, the Prime Minister's handlers finally dragged him onto call with an Australian radio station, where he pinky promised to return to Australia as fast as he could in an attempt to calm things down.
Unfortunately Scott's empathy consultant (a real job) then had to watch Scott pour more gasoline on the dumpster fire by uttering the now famous phrase "Look I don't hold a hose mate" when asked by the radio interviewer why the fucking fuck the fuckhead wasn't fucking in Australia doing his fucking job during a massive fucking crisis.
Testing just how much worse things could get, Scomo then proceeded to NOT rush back to Australia as promised, instead attempting to complete the rest of his holiday, a fact that was exposed when a passerby snapped a picture of him still lounging on the beach two days later.
Eventually, holiday complete, Morrison did reluctantly slink back to Australia, and in an attempt to calm things down, he decided to pay a visit to a small town that had been destroyed by the fires.
Which was a big mistake.
Scomo still had not registered how absolutely and totally he had screwed the poodle with his Hawaiian beach vacation, and he walks into what is now taught in PR classes as one of the greatest examples of "what not do do in a crisis" in all of history.
Scotty from Marketing, as he is now dubbed by the nation, spends a painfully cringe-inducing hour wandering around a burned down town with TV news cameras in tow, having to FORCE PEOPLE TO SHAKE HIS HAND in what is some of the most awkward footage you will ever see.
At this point it's probably also worth mentioning that, before becoming Prime Minister, Scott Morrison's biggest claim to fame in politics was being the guy that was so far up the coal lobby's arse that he literally brought coal into parliament and waved it around, claiming it doesn't hurt people.
So when a protest was organised it turned out to be one big national fuck you to the Prime Minister, the likes of which the world has never seen before or since.
Needless to say, at this point Scomo's career was dead in the water, but thanks to the rules brought in to stop Australian political parties from knifing their leader every two weeks (a popular Aussie passtime) Morrison basically couldn't get fired until after the next election.
And so, when the election rolled around in 2022, we decided that was an opportune time to travel over to Hawaii to erect this bad boy tribute to the Prime Minister, on the very beach where Scomo had sat and drank margaritas that one fateful week in December as Australia burned (thanks to @chaser for funding the ticket)
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At Fault | MV1
pairing: Max Verstappen x reader
summary: Max invites his ex to a gp and upsets you. Soft and stubborn Max, but he’s a cutie. A mix between angst and fluff, but mostly fluff towards the end. Lots of reader just ranting. Plus a little cameo from the Ferrari WAGs <3.
warnings: Does Kelly count as a warning? Kinda of toxic, I’m not really sure? But who actually likes seeing their boyfriend’s ex girlfriend??
author’s note: Italics are flashbacks! This turned out longer than expected, but I hope you guys like it! It’s also been a while since I’ve written fics, so it there are any errors pls ignore them😭
The tension in the car was thick. So thick, Max believed he could cut it with a knife.
Your arms were crossed as you stared out the window while Max glanced at you wearily every other second. Thankfully, there were only three of you in the car. You and Max in the backseat, and the driver in front being separated by a divider. Though, Max was sure the driver was able to hear the current disagreement between you and him.
Max fidgeted with the lanyard of his paddock pass and stared at the side of your face. He knew he had upset you and honestly you had every right to be. You were biting the inside of your cheek in frustration trying to keep your emotions at bay. As much as you wanted to argue with Max about how you disagreed with his actions, he was due to race in a couple of hours and you didn’t want to add any more stress on his shoulders.
But Max wanted to talk about this now while you were both alone.
“Schatje, are you really mad?” Max asked quietly, leaning closer to you and trying to get you to face him. He truly didn’t mean to dampen your mood before the race. Most importantly, he didn’t like that he was the reason for you being upset. Your brows furrowed ever so slightly and a faint pout was on your lips, both indications that you were in fact not happy with him.
“Yes, Max, I am mad.” You answered, your voice trembling a bit. You had finally turned away from the window and were looking at him. Max felt a pang of guilt in his heart once he saw the look in your eyes. They weren’t glaring at him with the heat of anger, but they were soft and glossy, you were hurt—he hurt you.
Max cautiously reached out for your hand and tangled your fingers together, though your hand felt limp, like you didn’t want to hold his hand at all.
“I told you the truth.” Max said, leaning his head down trying to catch your eyes again. You took in a deep breath before turning to fully face him.
“Yes Max, you did and I absolutely appreciate it. I really do.” You began, grasping his hand between yours. “But that doesn’t make up for that fact that you’ve had this planned out for nearly a month and only told me thirty minutes ago!” You argued.
Thirty minutes ago, before your ride to the paddock can pick you guys up, Max had revealed that his ex-girlfriend, Kelly, and her daughter would be at the garage to watch the race. When you asked how they got passes to the garage, he shared that he had flown them out and provided them with passes for the weekend.
“So she’s been here all weekend?” You questioned him, arms crossed and a brow raised at him. The Italian heat felt even ten times worse as you grew frustrated with your boyfriend.
“Yeah, but they were at the Paddock Club, they’re going to watch the race from the garage though.” Max shrugged, as if it were not a big deal. He adjusted the bag on his shoulder and grasped your hand in his free one.
You couldn’t help the feeling of insecurity seeping into your bones. Kelly was rich and gorgeous, she was a model, and you weren’t. You had a normal job that offered you stability, paid you good money, and you knew how to clean up nice. However, you were no where near her level of anything or any of the other WAGs at that.
“You’ve known this whole time that she was here?” You asked quietly, your brows furrowed at him. You hated that you kept asking him questions, it was like you were interrogating him.
Max looked down at you, confusion etched on his face, “I did, schatje. I flew them out and got them some paddock passes.” You acted before you could speak, and shook your head at him, rolling your eyes in annoyance. Your boyfriend was one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met, however, many people took that as a sign to take advantage of him. While it took him longer to realize it, you noticed it instantly.
“I don’t understand why you’re so upset though, I told you the truth, it’s not like I’m doing anything with her.” Max defended himself, his hands wildly moving around. “She reached out telling me that P missed me and wanted to come to a race, it’s not for her, it’s for Penelope.”
“I understand that Max and as harsh as this sounds, Penelope isn’t your responsibility. I get that you helped raise her, but you guys broke up, you don’t need to provide for her anymore.” You threw a hand in the air, emphasizing your point. “Kelly’s fully capable of flying herself out and buying tickets to a race weekend.”
“I was just being nice.” Max raised his voice, also growing frustrated with the situation.
“And she’s still using you!” You fumed, tears welled in the corner of your eyes. “How many times does she have to use you for you to realize it? You guys broke up and she still manages to get what she wants out of you! Do you know how embarrassing it is to walk in and see her there?” You tried to reason with him. While many of his fans didn’t approve of Kelly, you knew Twitter would have a field day clowning you when they find out Kelly was present in the garage. Social media was never always a nice place and you’ve learned to ignore it, but that didn’t mean it stopped the hate from happening.
Max ran a hand through his hair and sighed.
“This is ridiculous.” He muttered under his breath, you scoffed and leaned back into your seat, staring at the window again.
“Do you not trust me?” Max asked forcibly, staring at the side of your head again. You let out a defeated sigh and turn your head to look at him, “I do trust you, Max.”
Max’s shoulders slouched as he leaned on the seat sideways, his body fully turned to you.
“Then why do you not trust me with this?” He pushed, nudging your knee with his, trying to get an answer out of you. He knew he was at fault and he just wanted to make it right.
“I don’t trust her.” You simply answered, feeling done with the conversation. The car turned, nearing the entrance of the paddock. You sniffled as you untucked your hair from behind your ears, removing your sunglasses from the top of your head.
“You don’t have to worry about her, schatje. I want you not her, there’s a reason why we broke up.” Max reassured, trying to ease the tension between the two of you.
The car came to a halt, a knock came from the driver, indicating that you guys arrived at the paddock. Before you could leave, you turned to Max and said, “Yet, she’s still here.”
ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹
Entering the paddock was always a frenzy. The moment you stepped out the car, fans were quick to recognize you, knowing that one of their favorite drivers were right behind you. You slid your sunglasses on and smoothed out the white maxi dress you wore. Max followed in suit and flashed a smile at the fans.
Shouldering his bag, he held his hand out to you, “I know you’re upset, but can I please hold your hand?”
You nodded and entangled your fingers with his. The two of you began your walk into the paddock hand in hand, as fans screamed and waved at Max. He gave your hand a squeeze before guiding you guys to some of the barricades and signing a few things for the fans.
After you guys scanned your passes, Max led you guys to the Red Bull garage. However, you came to a halt. Max was quick to look back at you, “You okay?”
“Yeah—I’m gonna meet up with Alex and Rebecca, if that’s okay? We were planning on seeing each other before the race.” You tell him. A small pout formed on Max’s lips, “Oh, okay, I’ll drop you off.” He offered, still holding your hand.
You and the girls decided to meet up at the Paddock Club. In front of the entrance, Max stood in front of you.
“You’ll come to the garage to watch, right? I need you there.” He asked quietly, so that people passing by cannot hear your conversation.
You nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be there before you’re in the car.”
Max mirrored your actions, “Okay, I love you.” He pulled you in by the waist and pressed a kiss onto your forehead. You squeezed his waist in response, “I love you too.”
Max watched as you entered the building, huffing to himself, while he watched you walk further and further into the building.
Placing your sunglasses above your head, you scan the room until you see one of the girls, Alex was the first to spot you, standing in her spot and waving at you to come over.
“Coucou mon amour!” She greeted you, (Hello, my love!) immediately wrapping you in a hug. You squeal as she squeezed you, “Helloo!” You giggled. You go to greet Rebecca, who is immediately giving you a knowing look. Being the older one amongst the three of you, she was often looked up to as the older sister.
She wrapped an arm around you and smoothed your back, “What’s wrong?” She asked while you got situated in the chair beside her.
You shook your head, “It’s just Max.”
Rebecca grabbed the bottle of champagne on the table and poured some into a flute glass. She offered you the glass, “Thank you, I needed this.”
She smiled watching you take a long sip from the glass, “Oh honey, I know.”
Alex pouted and nudged your foot with hers, “What happened with Max?”
“He invited Kelly to watch the race at the garage today.” You bluntly shared, slumping yourself in your chair.
Rebecca’s eyes widened, “Shut up.”
You raised a brow at her, “Oh, I didn’t even get to the kicker yet.”
Alex’s brows raised, “Which is?”
“He flew her out—he fucking flew her out and gave her tickets for the entire weekend.” You revealed through gritted teeth, still being aware of your surroundings. Rebecca cursed under her breath as Alex took your glass and refilled it with champagne.
Grabbing the glass, you continued, “She’s literally been here all weekend and he only told me this morning. I just don’t get it, they broke up, I don’t know why he’s still so concerned about her.” You took another long sip of champagne,
“What was the reason why?” Rebecca asked you.
“Apparently Penelope missed him—which I can believe, but did he really have to do all the providing when she can financially support herself? I get that he was trying to be nice, but still.” You grunt, fiddling with your glass.
Alex comfortingly rubbed your arm, “No, I get it, if Charles did the same thing with his ex, I’d also be upset.”
“I literally told him that she’s using him once again.” You threw your hands up. “If he wants her to be there so much, he might as well just get back with her. Like—am I crazy for losing my mind at the fact they were in contact with each other, even if it wasn’t in a romantic sense?”
Rebecca shook her head, “No, your feelings are absolutely valid. You’re just concerned and it obviously caught you off guard. He shouldn’t have been texting his ex in the first place.”
You groaned and held your head in your hands, “I hate feeling like this, it makes me question if he actually wants to be with me or not.”
Rebecca held her finger up, “I’m gonna stop you right there.” Placing her hand on your shoulder she says, “Max might be acting very stupid right now, but one thing I know for sure is that Max loves you and absolutely adores you. Without a doubt.”
Alex nodded, agreeing with Rebecca, “Like have you seen the way he looks at you? He literally worships the ground you walk on. I’m sure he’s beating himself up right now for doing what he did.”
“He loves you, (y/n), everyone who’s seen you guys together knows it. I don’t think he’d put himself in this kind of position on purpose, you’ve got that man wrapped around your finger, babe.” Rebecca reassured you, throwing her arm around your shoulder and pulling you into another hug.
“Come on cheer up, who cares if she’s in the garage today? You’re the one he’s gonna be going home with tonight.” You laughed shaking your head at her teasing.
“Hey! Tonight and every single night!” Alex pointed out raising her glass at you.
ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹
Two hours. It’s been two hours since Max has dropped you off at the Paddock Club and he still hasn’t heard back from you. He’s been distracted all day. During a meeting with Christian and some of the engineers, he couldn’t help but constantly check for a text from you, earning himself a scolding from the team principal. Checo and a couple of people from the team tried talking to him, but he wasn’t paying attention. His eyes wandered wondering when you would enter the garage.
He did in fact see Kelly and P—obviously he was expecting to see them since he invited them, but all he felt while talking to them was guilt. Guilty because he remembered the look of hurt and betrayal in your eyes and how he was the reason behind it. He hated it, he felt grimy, and dirty for going behind your back and texting Kelly. Not even ten minutes into catching up with the mother and daughter, Max realized that you were in fact correct. Kelly had used him again, instantly making advances on him despite knowing he was happily taken. But for the sake of P, Max made sure to be friendly though kept his distance to not feed into her mother’s schemes.
It was nearing lights out and you were still not in the garage. He had gone through his warm ups with Bradley, had his fireproofs and suit on, and even laced up his shoes. Still, no sight of you whatsoever in the garage. He was beginning to worry about you, sending you a couple of messages to your phone.
The car was due to be on the grid and there was about half an hour left till lights out. Max looked around the bustling garage, checking to see if you had snuck in without him seeing, though to no avail, you still weren’t there.
“Max…Max…Max?” GP tried to get Max’s attention. Snapping a finger in front of the driver’s face, Max’s eyes flickered over to his race engineer.
“What do you want now?” Max groaned, throwing his head back. To onlookers, it looked like a typical interaction between Max and GP. Though, GP felt like he was babysitting a child whose attention span couldn’t focus on one thing for more than a few seconds.
“Mate, I’ve been talking to you for the past five minutes.” GP claimed. Choosing to ignore the information he had just “briefed” Max on, he decided to be a friend.
“Where’s your head at?” GP asked Max. The Dutch man sighed, leaning against one of the storage units in the garage.
“I messed up with (y/n). I did something and it was my fault, I know it was. But she’s not happy with me at the moment and I just want to make it right.” Max summarized, not sharing any more details to protect the privacy of your relationship.
GP motioned towards Kelly who was talking to one of the other influencers in the garage, “Does it have to deal with that?”
“Unfortunately.” Max mumbled, crossing his arms and choosing to stare at the floor.
GP took a minute to stare at his driver. Max was deflated, he wasn’t as hyped for the race or over explaining some random fact about god knows what. Instead, Max kept to himself, greeting people when he had to and communicating with his team prior to the race. Other than that, Max chose to stare at his phone and look longingly outside the garage.
“Listen, I don’t know what exactly went down. But I’ve seen you with (y/n) and she clearly makes you happy, we’ve all see how lively you are with her around. You’ve got a lot of groveling to do bud, but it’ll be worth it.” GP advised, clapping Max on the back to wake him up.
“She’ll always be worth it.” Max quietly said, taking another glimpse at his phone. Only to be met with his wallpaper of you and him, with no notifications.
ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹
Christian Horner stared at his monitor at the pit wall watching as drivers and their teams gathered on the grid. He saw Checo by his car, taking a few sips of water before the race. When the camera panned to Max’s Red Bull, the driver was no where to be seen. Sparing him a second of wondering where his driver was, the camera cut to the garage where Max stood, race suit at his waist, looking no where near ready to participate in the race.
“Why is Max not in the car?” He turned to GP, stress evident on his face. GP turned in his seat and looked back into the garage to see Max pacing. Cursing under his breath, he excused himself from Christian and rushed to Max.
“Max, the race is literally about to start!”
Max stops his pacing and places his hands at his hips, “I need my girlfriend.”
“What?” Bradley and GP both stuttered out. Max deadpanned at the two men in front of him.
“(Y/n), I need to see her before the race.” Max demanded. Bradley pinched the bridge of his nose, “Max, she’ll be here after the race, you’ll be fine.” He pushed the balaclava towards Max’s chest, who simply let the mask fall at his feet.
GP sighed at Max, before calling one of the Red Bull employees.
“Please send out a search for (y/n), Max is refusing to get in the car.” He whispered to the intern. The girl looked at him confusingly but nodded and set out the garage.
ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹
You rushed as best as you could in kitten heels towards the Red Bull garage. You were supposed to be at the garage at least half an hour ago. You and the girls got caught up catching up with each other’s lives that none of you realized it was getting close to lights out. It truly was a funny sight, the three of you rushing out of the Paddock Club and running through the paddock like a bunch of maniacs.
“(Y/n)!” You heard someone yell. You stopped in your steps and looked around, only to see a girl dressed in Red Bull uniform. You recognized her, you believed her name was Nicole and was an intern for the team this season.
“Hey! Is Max on the grid already?” You approached her, a little sad that you missed seeing him before the race.
“No, he’s actually waiting for you. They’re sending out a search for you because he’s refusing to get in the car.” Nicole explained, placing a gentle hand on your back and guiding you through the crowd of fans and towards the garage.
ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹
GP released a sigh of relief once he saw you enter the garage. He shoved Max’s shoulder to avert his attention to you.
“What—oh,” Max began, only to stop himself and rush towards you. You met him half way, placing a hand on his elbow.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant to stay there for too long.” You quickly apologized. Max shook his head, “I don’t care, I’m just happy you’re here.”
Your brows furrowed at him, “Why are you here? Why aren’t you in the car yet?”
Max placed both his hands on your waist with a faint blush on his cheeks, “I need my goodluck kiss.”
You paused your actions, “You’re kidding me. Max, the race is about to start in five minutes!” You scolded your boyfriend.
“Please, schatje.” He pleaded, leaning closer towards you. Other team members and guests watched the both of you, the scene in front of them peaking their interests.
You gazed up at his stormy eyes, giving in because you knew he was stubborn and wouldn’t stop until he got his way. Plus, the team would hate you if you lowered their chances of scoring points this weekend.
“Just because I kiss you doesn’t mean I’m not mad at you anymore.” You clarified quietly. His forehead nodded against yours, “I know schatje. I promise to make it up to you, I really do.”
A small smile forms on your lips, “I know, Maxie.”
Max takes that as his sign to crash his lips onto yours. One of his hands support the back of your neck while the other rests on your lower back. You smile against his lips, pulling back and placing a peck right above the small mole on his upper lip.
“I love you.” You whispered to him.
“I love you too.” He whispered back. Before you can fully pull away from him he quickly adds, “I’m serious about my promise.”
“I know, baby.” You squeeze him comfortingly. “Now get out there and win the race. Stay safe.”
He pressed a kiss to your forehead as both you and GP ushered him towards his gear that’s been waiting to be put on.
ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹
A man of his word, Max won the race. With at least a five second gap between him and Lando, your boy was top step yet once again. As much as he won, the thrill of seeing him win and crossing the finish line never got old. You celebrated every win of his as if it were his first. You’d always be proud of him, whether he got pole or not.
Many of the engineers and members of the team began to rush towards the grid, eager to greet Max once he got out the car.
Looking around, you suddenly make eye contact with Kelly, who seemed to have been sizing you up. You weren’t really sure what look was on her face, but the hints of a snarl were on her lips. With her nose stuck up in the air, you watched as she carried her daughter and began to follow the rest of the team.
“Don’t mind her. You’re the one he wants to see when he gets out that car.” A voice said from beside you. You jumped, coming face to face with Christian. Your eyes widened at your boyfriend’s boss. Prior to the race, he was informed of the search party the entire team had for you to get Max in the car. While he was annoyed earlier, he thought it was rather cute that Max was so fond of you.
“You know, he’s never begged her for a good luck kiss.” Said Christian, a knowing look on his features. “You on the other hand—he can’t seem to function whenever you’re not around.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was gonna put that much of a fight earlier today.” You apologized, feeling a bit flustered. “He’s a bit stubborn sometimes.” You added, to which Christian chuckled at.
“Oh, I know. Max and I have worked together for years.” He stated. He glanced out the garage and motioned towards it, “C’mon now, I’m sure he’s already looking for you.”
ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹
You make your way through the crowd of Red Bull members, many of them recognizing you and helping you squeeze through till you were at the very front of the barricade.
Max was already out, helmet in his hand, while his other embraced GP and a couple other engineers. You watched as he high-fived Penelope, barely sparing a glance at her mother. A little burst of pride went off in your stomach, you couldn’t help it.
His blue orbs scanned the crowd of red and blue, looking for you. You yell his name, his eyes immediately finding yours. A smile breaks out on his face as he rushed over to you, dropping his helmet in the process. Despite the barricade between you two, he wraps both his arms tightly around you, lifting you off the ground.
“Max!” You squealed, your arms wrapping around his neck. His large hand found your cheek, slightly pulling you away from his neck so he can connect his lips with yours. Naturally, your lips moulded perfectly against his moving in synch. The team erupted in cheers around you.
“I’m so proud of you!” You tell him once your lips separate.
“I couldn’t have done it without you.” He grins, gently pinching your bottom lip between his pointer finger and thumb.
He couldn’t stay long, being told that he had to get to the podium for the trophy ceremony.
“I’ll see you after the podium, schatje!” He yelled with a wink over his shoulder, causing a blush to form on your cheeks.
ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹
The ceremony and the media tent took a while, you finally got to see Max an hour later. You were sitting in his driver’s room, when he bursted through the door already looking for you.
You stood up, smiling at him, “Hey.”
He mirrors your smile. Placing the trophy on the couch he opens his arms for you. You walk into the comfort of his hold, burying your head into the crook of his neck and wrapping your arms around his torso.
Finally it was just the two of you.
“I’m sorry.” You said, though it came out muffled against his skin. Max’s hands stopped the circular motions they were rubbing on your back.
“For what?”
You pulled back looking at him, “I overreacted about the whole Kelly thing. I should’ve taken your word for it.”
Max immediately shook his head, disagreeing with you. “No, you were absolutely right about her. I should’ve listened to you from the beginning. The moment I said hi to them she was already trying to come onto me—I avoided her by the way, I just entertained P.”
“I’m also sorry for what I said about P. I was in the wrong for that comment.” You said, a small grimace on your face when you remembered the off hand comment you made about the poor child.
Max chuckled, “Schatje, seriously, it’s okay.”
His calloused hands were rough against the soft skin of your face. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and cradled your jaw in his hand.
“I may have a soft spot for P, but they’re in my past. You’re my future, (y/n). The future that I only want and see myself in.” Max admitted. Your eyes gleamed at him, “You’re the future I want too, Maxie.”
“Good because you’re not getting rid of me that easily. You’re stuck with me.” He joked, squeezing your cheeks.
“I love you. So much. I know it seemed like I didn’t trust you today, but I want you to know that I do. I fully trust you with my life and I mean it.” You said, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.
Max nodded, “I believe you. I love you too.”
The two of you basked in the silence and comfort of being in each others arms. Max was the first one to break the silence, “You don’t have plans after this right?”
You hummed against his neck, “Besides celebrating your win, nothing. Why?”
“Because I’m taking you out on a date.” Max proudly announced, a goofy smile on his lips.
“Don’t you wanna celebrate with the team?” You asked him. Max shook his head, “Nope, the only person I want to celebrate with tonight is you.”
You giggled at Max’s antics, “Whatever you say, Champ.”
#f1#formula 1#formula one#max verstappen#mv33#mv1#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen angst#max verstappen fanfic
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⟢ LET THIS BE A REMINDER
presenting kinktober day 5 ➔︎ ghostface!rafe x final girl!reader
warnings: DUBCON !! primal play (predator/prey), knife play + carving/branding, blood + blood play, unprotected sex, creampie, spitting, choking, pussy slapping, spanking, degrading, praise, brief orgasm denial, threatening/blackmail 18+ mdni word count: 3.2k
A/N: i just want to say thank you to everyone who took the time to read my silly, slutty little fics. i came into kinktober highly nervous because this year is my first time doing it, but y'all have truly made this experience the absolute best !! i love you all so so sooo much, MWAH !!!
kinktober m.list ⟡ rafe m.list
you jerk awake, sitting up with your chest heaving frantically as you flip the switch of the lamp on your bedside table. the small white light illuminates the room, and you turn your head to look at the corner of your bedroom, only to find nothing. a sigh of relief leaves you, and your body starts to relax, knowing there is nothing in the room but you, “it was just another nightmare. you’re fine. he’s long gone; he can’t get you,” you tell yourself.
you pinch the bridge of your nose; there is no way you could fall back asleep now. you reached for your phone, swung your legs off the bed, and planted your feet onto the carpeted floor. you lazily strolled down the stairs to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. you leaned against the counter, lost in your thoughts, as you stared at the bottle in front of you, debating if you should take the medication you were prescribed last year to help you sleep.
you grabbed the bottle, unscrewed the cap, and took two into your mouth before swallowing them. the loud ringing of your phone startled you, and you reminded yourself that you were safe. it’s probably nothing you tell yourself when you see ‘No Caller ID’ displayed on the screen.
“hello?” you answer, holding the phone close to your ear when all you can hear is the sound of heavy breathing, “hello? i think you have the wrong number,” you huff, growing agitated. who would call you this late at night?
“you and your little friends got the wrong guy,” the distorted voice echoed in your ear. ”what are you talking about?” you stood up, straightening your posture, “don’t play dumb; you know what I‘m talking about.”.
“the man they arrested last year, topper thornton. he isn’t the killer. he never was,” the voice snickers, “he isn’t necessarily the most innocent man, but it’s not him.”.
“there was enough evidence against topper; everything pointed to him being the killer. i don’t know who this is, but how are you sure it’s not him?”. there was nothing but an eerie silence for a second until the voice spoke again, “because I’m the killer.”.
“really funny, asshole. if you’re trying to scare me, it’s not working. don’t you think I’m used to receiving countless prank calls? do me a favor and don’t call me again,” you snort.
a chill ran up your spine at their chuckle, “oh, my sweet little bunny…a prank call? is that what you think this is? this is far from a prank call,” they paused, “y’know, you look good in white, it makes you look so sweet and innocent.”.
your hands trembled, pulling the phone away from your ear to end the call. you let out a shaky breath, ‘it’s just some asshole trying to scare you,’ you repeat to yourself, pushing the thought to the back of your mind as you head back upstairs to your room.
you push your door open, your eyebrows knitting in confusion when you notice the light from your lamp is off. you turn the bedroom light switch on, and a blood-curdling scream erupts from within you at the sight in front of you.
there, on your mirror, was a message written in blood, ‘i’m coming for you next.’.
you’ve been on edge since the incident occurred a few days ago, especially after sheriff shoupe informed you that not only weren’t there any indications of a break-in, but they never found the threatening message you received. it had been wiped clean, almost as if the ghostface killer was taunting you; it was his way of telling you he was still in your home when you had made the call, painting it to look like you had gone insane.
when you brought it up to the pogues, they tried to give a reasonable explanation, “there was blood on the mirror! i’m not making any of this up,” you argued, noticing the pitiful looks on your friends’ faces. “don’t look at me like that, okay? i know what I saw,” you scoffed.
“we’re not saying we don’t believe you, but it doesn’t make sense. i mean, think about it. it’s been a year since the murders,” john b pointed out.
the pogues nodded in agreement, “john b is right, if it wasn’t topper, then why did the murders stop when he got arrested? if the killer is still out there, why wait a year to attack and terrorize again? i think it was just another brainless kook trying to scare you,” pope theorized.
“you need a distraction, and the situation is bothering you. so, i say we go to the fair,” jj grinned, his smile dropping when the entire group groaned, “come on, it’s halloween! besides, it’s not like any of you have plans.”.
the fair was filled with laughter as most people, along with you and the pogues, waited in line for one of the rides. you were pushed up against random people, easily overwhelmed by such a large crowd, and wanting nothing more than space.
you slip out of line, catching your friends’ attention, “where are you going?”.
“this line is insane, and it’s too overwhelming. i’m just going to walk around a bit,” you informed, only for pope to ask if you wanted one of them to come with you. “no, it’s okay. i have my phone on me, so one of you can call me whenever you’re off the ride,” you waved your phone in front of the group.
you continued wandering away from the group and stopped in your tracks when you came across the closed-off entrance to the haunted corn maze, which piqued your interest.
figuring it would be the best place to clear your head, you looked around, noting that no one was watching as you ducked under the rope to enter the maze. your shoes scruff against the dirt, the few dried stalks of corn crunching under your feet the further you made your way into the maze, the only source of light coming from the soft, yellow glow of the moon.
you tap on your phone's screen, grumbling to yourself when you realize the pogues won’t be able to reach you due to no longer having any signal.
you continue walking, wrapping your arms around your waist, stopping at the feeling of being watched. “you’re just being paranoid,” you mumble as you come across the path that now forked into two.
the hairs on the back of your neck stand up at the sound of rustling from behind, and you whip around, your eyes darting back and forth, frowning when you find nothing. you turn back around, your eyes widening, and a scream escapes from your throat at the sight of ghostface standing before you, tilting his head as he stares at you.
“told you i was comin’ for you,” his altered voice rang through your ears before he lunged towards you. you duck, barely escaping from his grasp, before running down the left path of the maze, “go on and run bunny! i like the chase!” he chuckles.
you could feel your heart pounding against your ribcage, knowing he was hot on your tail, your feet carrying you as fast as they could. turn after turn, you look behind you, “you can run all you want, but there’s nowhere to hide!”.
your lungs were on fire the faster you ran, your head turning to look in front of you, panic starting to kick in when you’re met with a dead end.
“dead end? gotta say it must be my lucky night,” he taunts, taking in your trembling form, “aw, you poor thing. are you scared? you should be, but that’s okay, i like ‘em scared.”.
all you could do was back away the closer he stepped forward until your back was flush against the corn stalks.
“i’m a bit disappointed. i like a challenge, and you made the chase far too easy,” he ridiculed, “i’ll tell you what, let’s make it interesting and play a little game. the rules are simple. if you manage to find your way out of this maze before i catch you, i’ll let you go…but if you don’t, let’s just say I finally get to have my way with you.”.
you can’t help but press your thighs together, craning your neck to the side, turning away from him, ashamed at the fact his words turned you on. “don’t you dare look away from me,” he sneered, his knife glinting in the moonlight as he gently traced it along your cheek to your chin, turning your head to face him again.
“answer me,” he commanded, the blood draining from your face when he moved the knife down your neck, nicking the flesh enough to break through the skin as he removed his mask, revealing himself.
“surprised, bunny?” rafe smirks, enjoying the stunned look on your face, his eyes fixating on the small drop of blood coming from the cut on your neck that he caused. rafe dips his head down, letting out a throaty chuckle as he licks at the blood. his tongue sweeps along your neck and up to your ear, biting at the lobe, “what do you say? do you wanna play a game?”.
you nod when he pulls away, not trusting your voice, “good girl, i’ll give you a head start…starting now,” he whispers, stepping aside.
it was almost embarrassing, yet sick, how turned on you were, your panties sticking to you as you took off running. you run, turning right, then taking a left turn, letting out a shriek as you trip over your feet when rafe’s arms wrap around your waist, causing you to stumble onto the ground.
“gotcha,” he grins, turning you on your back as he pins your wrists above your head with one hand. “you gonna be a good girl f’me?” he asks, running the blade of the knife down your chest as you gazed up at him, nodding, “yes.”.
he hums, slipping the knife underneath the fabric and using it to pull your shirt up to reveal your bare tits, “no bra, hm? dirty girl,” he tsks. he lightly presses the flat of the knife against your nipples, watching as they harden from the coolness of the steel. he releases your wrists, his hand traveling down to your hips, reaching for the hem of your skirt, pushing it till it bunches around your waist. you winced as he nicked your sensitive, soft skin, blood slowly trickling from the cut he made when he dragged the blade between the valley of your breasts.
“hmm, even with blood staining your skin, you still look fuckin’ pretty,” rafe purred, lowering his head. his tongue reaches out, flattening against your sternum to chase after the trail of blood. a small yelp leaves your lips when his teeth sink into your nipple, sucking the hardened bud into his mouth. he presses his knee to your clothed cunt, grinning against your nipple as he feels your hips subconsciously rut against him before pulling away, sitting back on the heels of his feet, and tauntingly dragging the knife lower and lower.
you squirm under him as the tip of the knife reaches the waistband of your panties, his eyes catching sight of the wetness seeping through them, “huh, would you look that? soaking right through your panties…you like this, don’t you? like the fact that the big scary killer is takin’ what he wants?”.
“y-yes,” you breathed, feeling him hook the blade under the waistband of your panties, “mm, that’s what I thought.”.
“could’ve done this a whole lot sooner if i had known a filthy little pogue like you would be into this shit,” he teased, the edge of the knife slicing through the flimsy material. he pulls the now-torn panties off your hips, tossing them aside, your thighs parting when he silently tells you to spread them, tapping the handle of his knife to your inner thighs.
he licks his lips, “gonna show you who owns this messy cunt by carving my name into your pretty skin.”.
a yelp travels up your throat, eyes welling with tears and screwing shut when the tip of his knife carved an ‘r’ and ‘c’ into the flesh of your hip. “there you go. all done and branded as mine,” rafe coos, leaning back to admire his work that was now permanently etched into your skin.
he brings the blade to your mouth, “taste yourself, bunny,” he orders, carefully pressing the knife onto your tongue when you open your mouth. he groans to himself, watching the blood from the knife coat your tongue. he cups your jaw, fingers pressing into your cheeks and spitting into your mouth, “atta girl,” he praises as you swallow.
rafe turns the blade of the knife towards him, running the handle up your inner thighs to your soaked cunt, and you suck in a breath when he teases your clit with it before bringing it back down to your slick folds. a gasp spilled from your mouth when he slips the handle deep into your cunt, your hips bucking as he slowly fucks you with it, pushing it in and out of your sopping cunt.
”oh–” you moan as he continues fucking you with the handle, moving it faster. his cock throbs, watching with a smirk as your head lolls back, “this needy little pussy will take anything I give it, huh?”.
you roll your hips in time with each thrust of the handle. “i asked a question,” rafe gritted his teeth, earning a squeal from you when he gives a harsh slap to your cunt, his ring catching against your clit.
“yes!” you cry out, your legs starting to shake, and you clench around the handle. rafe lands another slap on your cunt, abruptly halting the movements of the handle and pulling it from your cunt, knowing you were on the verge of your orgasm. “n-no, why’d you stop?” you whined, jutting your bottom lip out to pout up at him, making him suck his teeth and shake his head, “should’ve been a good girl and answered me the second i asked a question.”.
your lips quiver, tears filling your eyes in frustration, “p-please, rafe. i’ll listen and be a good girl, i promise.”.
“p-please, rafe,” he mimicked, “you want it that bad? beg for it, then…beg for it, and i’ll make you scream so loud that the entire fuckin’ fair can hear me ruining this needy pussy.”.
“please, rafe. I need you…please fuck me,” you pleaded, looking at him with glassy eyes. “now that wasn’t so hard, was it, bunny?” rafe rasps, tossing his knife a few feet away onto the dirt. your eyes flicker to his hands working his belt, watching him shrug his pants and boxers down his thighs. his hard, thick cock sprung free, slapping against his stomach, and his hands settled on your waist, pulling you with him as he lays flat on his back onto the ground of the corn maze.
“go on. take what you want and fuck yourself dumb on my cock,” he grins, gripping the base of his cock, teasingly running the thick head along your slick folds, enjoying the way you writhed above him. his hands grab your hips, your pussy stretching around his cock as he pulls you onto his length. your palms lay flat on his chest, steadying yourself as you move your hips, moaning softly as he palms your tits, rolling and pinching your hardened nipples between his fingers.
the air is filled with the noises of your ass smacking against his thighs as you bounce yourself up and down his cock, “yeah…just like that,” rafe groans. his hand reaches up, grabbing your throat to pull you down, capturing your lips in a sloppy, wet kiss. you squealed when he rolled the two of you over, pulling out before flipping you onto your stomach.
your back arches as he shoves your face down onto the ground, giving him a perfect view of your glossy cunt. his fingers intertwined with your locks of hair, pushing on the side of your head, making your cheek press further into the dirt.
his large hands glide up the curve of your ass, “such a sweet little ass,” he hummed in approval. your body jolts forward when his palm comes in contact with the fatty flesh, “but it’s not as sweet as your perfect little cunt.”.
“rafe, stop teasing–” you whine out, a sharp gasp cutting you off when his cock slams into you in one harsh thrust. he grips your hips to keep you still, snapping his hips into yours, “so fuckin’ tight.”.
his lips part, watching the way your pussy swallows around him, sucking him in deeper. you squirm under him, your nails clawing into the dirt beneath you as he pounds into you, “this little cunt is nothin’ but a hole for me to use, isn’t that right?”.
“please use me–” you hiccup, pushing yourself back against his dick, “y’know I can’t say no when you’re acting like a little cock-hungry whore,” he chuckles, his grip on your hair tightening, tugging at the roots. you feel the thick band of his belt wraps around the front of your throat, gasping when your head is pulled back harshly, “knew you’d fuckin’ like this…could feel you dripping down my balls,” rafe chuckles.
your pussy squelches around his cock as he relentlessly pounds into your drooling cunt, the pleasure overpowering the pain of the leather of his belt digging into your neck. he yanks your head back even further, his belt tightening around your throat, your back flush to his chest, “look at you…you’re either sick in the head for letting a murderer fuck you, or your pussy is so fuckin’ desperate for some dick.”.
he slips his hand around your waist to your stomach and feels his cock bulging in your lower abdomen, “feel that? feel how deep i’m in your guts?”.
you thrash in his hold as his palm presses down against the bulge in your belly, his cock rubbing against your walls with each harsh thrust. your brain goes blank, your head spinning, and nothing but incoherent words fall from your lips as his tip repeatedly hits your cervix, “what was that, bunny? oh, right…that little brain of yours can’t form a single thought as I’m fuckin’ you dumb, huh?”.
“s’okay, i know what you need,” he purred, “c’mon, be a good girl and cum all over my cock.”.
your walls flutter and squeeze around him, eyes rolling into the back of your skull, your legs trembling and ready to give out. your hands grasp his arm around your waist, crying out his name as you come all over his cock.
rafe holds you steady as your body goes limp, his cock pounding into your abused cunt, “gonna stuff this pussy full of my cum, and you’re gonna take every single drop.”.
rafe’s thrusts become sloppy, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck as his cock twitches. his hips falter, giving you one more thrust; he pushes himself deep inside you, groaning in your ear as his thick ropes of cum spill into you.
your chest heaves, panting for air when he releases his belt from around your neck. his thumb caresses the initials of his name that he had carved into your flesh, “let this be a reminder that i own you. if you try to tell the cops that you know who the real killer is, i won’t be as nice next time”.
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red velvet hearts.
pairing: bad boy!donghyuck x baker!reader
genre: fluff, slight angst
word count: 7.7k
synopsis: you patch up a boy with a bloody nose and bruised knuckles, only to find out that he has quite the sweet tooth.
author’s note: why do i keep injuring hyuck in all my fics lmao??? anyways i tried to write his character a bit differently than i usually do to challenge myself so please let me know how you guys like it! also remember, ladies: this is fiction. you cannot fix him <3
warning(s): brief description of injuries, mentions of violence, maximum amounts of cringe and melodrama
playlist: all my ghosts by lizzy mcalpine ― heart eyes by coin ― close to you by gracie abrams ― sidelines by phoebe bridgers ― the alchemy by taylor swift
RECIPE 1. TIRAMISU
“This is not what I meant when I said you need your back blown out.”
“Not funny. I almost died,” you grumble as you wrap the back brace around your torso. You hate the immediate relief you feel from the support it provides, no longer able to tell yourself that it’s really not as bad as it seems―which only makes you angrier.
“Throwing your back out while lifting a giant bag of flour and nearly getting crushed to death by said flour is genuinely the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Yeri, your best friend (derogatory), snorts as she shakes her head. “I wish you had cameras in the storage room because I want to see that shit so bad.”
“Thank you for the brace. You can get the hell out now.” You roll your eyes.
“So, what are you going to do now? Aren’t you swamped with orders?” Yeri asks, ignoring you completely.
You have no clue what you’re going to do now. It isn’t just orders you have to worry about fulfilling; it’s also the freshly baked pastries that you have to sell every morning. After a year of blood, sweat, and tears, the bakery that you built from the ground up is finally starting to gain some stable business. So, of course, you chose now of all times to try to lift a bag of flour over your shoulder like you were Dwayne The Rock Johnson.
“I think I’ll have to hire some temporary help,” you answer begrudgingly.
“You could sound less like someone is holding you at gunpoint,” Yeri snorts, “Come on. It had to happen sooner or later anyway.”
“I was handling things just fine on my own.”
“Were you, though?” Yeri raises an eyebrow, gesturing to your current state.
You fear you walked right into that one. “Shut up and help me make some posters.”
The two of you eventually manage to whip up some haphazard “Help Wanted” posters, the letters written in glitter pen and Yeri’s clumsy bubble text. You tried your best to fill in the empty gaps on the construction paper by placing Pompompurin stickers that you normally give to customers’ kids all over it. The posters look like a nine-year-old girl’s school project gone wrong, but you hope it’s charming enough to catch some attention.
By the time you and Yeri finish hanging up all the posters, the sun is already starting to set, and all you want to do is go home and put a heating pad on your back. After saying bye to Yeri, you start making your way back to the bakery to lock up. Once you arrive, you notice a figure dressed in black slumped over in front of the door. You can see their shoulders rise up and down as they take in labored breaths, leaning against the glass door for support.
Every rational fiber in your being screams at you to not approach the stranger alone, but it’s not like you can just leave this person at the front of your place of business. Cautiously taking a step forward, you squat down to eye level with the stranger, wincing slightly from back pain. Through the sweaty and matted mess of his brown fringe, you can see that the stranger is a young man around your age. However, his face is absolutely battered: bloody (and almost certainly broken) nose, split lip, black eye swollen shut, and a jagged cut on his cheek. If he notices your presence, he doesn’t show it, keeping his head hung down.
Gingerly placing a hand on his arm, you give him a small shake. “Excuse me? Are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?”
His brows furrow, and he opens an eye (the only one he’s probably able to open) with a wince before lifting a finger and putting it against his lips. You notice that his knuckles are completely scraped raw.
“Not so loud. I’m okay,” he answers.
“You don’t look―”
As if on cue, his stomach rumbles with a guttural growl that slowly drawls into a sputtering gurgle before dying out all together―leaving a long silence to hang between the two of you.
After another beat, he gives you a sheepish smile. “You got anything to eat?”
You stare at him for a moment; his face is flushed, pink all the way down to his neck.
And like a stupid horror movie character who opens the door to a room that clearly screams danger, you nod.
.
.
.
Fortunately, he―Donghyuck, as he introduced himself―ends up not being a crazy ax murderer.
Unfortunately, you find yourself awkwardly sitting in your closed bakery with a virtual stranger, fiddling with a first aid kit while watching him absolutely devour a piece of leftover tiramisu that you had in your fridge. If the situation wasn’t so insane, you might actually think it was pretty funny. For someone who looks the way he does, this current picture of Donghyuck absolutely doesn’t suit him―bruised chipmunk cheeks stuffed with ladyfingers and cocoa powder stuck on his split lip.
When he’s finished, Donghyuck looks over at you with a mesmerized expression on his face, as if you just fed him ambrosia. There’s a softness to his face that you didn’t think could exist underneath all that grime and dried blood.
“That was…delicious,” he breathes.
“Thanks,” you snort, pushing a glass of water towards him. Unsurprisingly, he chugs it in the blink of an eye. “I still think you should get those injuries checked out, though.”
“Nah, I’ll rub a little spit in them and it’ll be fine,” he shrugs.
“Don’t be gross,” you sigh, scooting your chair closer to him as you set the first aid kit on the table. “Now, come here.”
Donghyuck reluctantly dips his head, and you carefully cup his jaw for support, disinfecting and applying ointment on the cuts and scrapes on his face. You also clean up the dried blood near his nostrils and on his bottom lip, and he doesn’t flinch even when you accidentally brush tender areas like his broken nose or the gash on his mouth. Instead, he stays perfectly still, leaned back in the chair with his forearms resting on his thighs and fingers nonchalantly laced together.
He keeps his gaze trained on something past your shoulder, and you also try your best to focus, but it’s hard to keep yourself from staring―especially when his demeanor has changed so much. He’s so calm and quiet in such a cold, ruthless manner, as if he’s physically steeling himself from pain―like he’s done this a million times before. Occasionally, you feel his eyes swipe across your face when he thinks you’re not paying attention, and it occurs to you how close the two of you are. Suddenly, you’re acutely aware of the heat of his skin against your palm and fingertips, and you rip your hand away from his jaw.
Clearing your throat, you move onto his hands, dabbing his raw knuckles with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol before placing large band-aids on them. Despite your best efforts, it’s hard not to notice how slim his long fingers are or how surprisingly clean his nail beds are for someone who’s covered in blood. You keep your head completely bent, fighting the urge of looking up and possibly meeting his eyes.
“There, all done,” you announce a little too loudly.
“Thank you,” he says softly, “for the cake and for this. For helping me.”
“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t do much,” you blurt, still avoiding eye contact as you clean up the table. However, you notice in your peripheral that his gaze follows your movements, almost hesitantly, before he asks:
“So, you’re hiring?”
You click the first-aid kit shut, blinking a few times before turning back to him. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an answer.
“I―yeah. How did you know that?” you ask, puzzled by such a random question.
Donghyuck points at a poster that you didn’t even know you left here, sitting on the table right behind you. You realize that he was probably looking at it while you were patching him up.
“That poster that says ‘help wanted.’ With the Pompompurin stickers. I’m actually in between jobs right now, so if you would have me―”
“You know Pompompurin?” you interrupt him. It’s not that important and should not stand out to you as much as it does. Yet, you can’t help but grin at the fact that someone like him knows about a tubby Golden Retriever character with a name that sounds like a mashup of the English language’s most adorable onomatopeias.
Donghyuck trails off, stiffening as if you just found out his deepest, darkest secret. He opens his mouth slightly, trying to speak but unable to formulate a response―an excuse, rather. Instead, he just lets out an airy cough, putting a hand over his mouth and turning away from you in an attempt to obscure his face. Despite his best efforts, he can’t hide his glowing red ears and the way his earlier coldness melts away.
“I―yeah,” he responds, words slightly muffled by his hand.
You struggle to maintain your composure as you gnaw on your bottom lip to keep from laughing. Fighting a smile in your voice, you finally say:
“The pay won’t be that much, but you’ll get a bunch of free desserts at the end of the day. Are you okay with that?”
It takes him a moment to process that you’re offering him the job, and you watch his eyes light up and a warm smile overtake his face. There’s still a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks, clashing with the purple bruising and swelling of his injuries.
“I’d love nothing more.”
Suddenly, it occurs to you that Donghyuck somewhat reminds you of a tiramisu.
He may look a bit rugged and grimey, bitter like coffee, but in actuality, underneath it all, he’s soft and fluffy (but not too sweet) like a mascarpone filling.
RECIPE 2. BLUEBERRY PIE
“Are you out of your mind?”
You cringe away from your phone, hurriedly turning the volume down. “Damn, you don’t have to scream like that.”
“You should be the one screaming,” Yeri hollers. “I better not come over one day and find your body stuffed in the freezer or something.”
“I thought you wanted me to hire someone!”
“Not some random dude off the side of the street who was covered in injuries and doesn’t even have any baking experience,” Yeri hisses.
“I don’t need him to bake. I just have him working the front counter and doing all the heavy lifting when I get my ingredient shipments,” you protest. “Did you think I would really just hand over all my orders to some random dude and go party it up in Cancún or something?”
Yeri is silent for several seconds before asking, “He’s hot, isn’t he?”
“What?”
“So you did know what I meant when I said you needed your back blown out.” You can hear the smugness in her voice.
“Yeri,” you say tiredly, “please be serious.”
“I am serious. You’re the one being unserious,” she retorts. “Yesterday, you acted like you would rather sacrifice your firstborn child before hiring a part-timer, and now look at you. Dickmatized.”
“Okay, I’m hanging up now.”
“So, when do I get to meet him―”
You quickly hit the button to end the call and shove your phone into your pocket, letting out an exasperated sigh. You definitely won’t be hearing the end of that for a while. Your face feels warm for some reason, and you decide that you need a coffee break. After you finish making it, you pour yourself and Donghyuck a cup.
You peek your head out from the curtain that separates the kitchen and the front counter to see if Donghyuck is busy. He’s politely chatting with an elderly woman, and your eyes nearly pop out of your head when he takes out the entire tray of egg tarts in the glass display and wraps it up for her. The woman happily hands him a wad of bills and waves him goodbye. After putting the cash in the register, Donghyuck turns around and catches you in the middle of gawking.
“Oh, Y/N. I was actually just about to head back there. We’re out of egg tarts for the display,” he says nonchalantly.
“Uh, yeah, I can see that,” you whisper loudly, “Was that Mrs. Kim? Why the hell did she order a dozen egg tarts? That woman can barely finish a single cookie.”
Donghyuck blinks, clearly confused, whispering back, “She asked for my recommendation, so I said egg tarts since no one had bought any yet, and she said she would take all of them.”
You pause, things finally clicking. Grinning knowingly, you say, “You know, having you work the front is doing wonders for sales.”
“I don’t understand.” He furrows his brows.
You laugh, handing him his cup of coffee. “I’m talking about your face card, Donghyuck. You’re too handsome, so you’re flustering the customers.”
“Are we not whispering anymore?” he asks awkwardly. “Besides, that’s not true. Look at the state of my face right now.”
His injuries have faded significantly, but the bruising and cuts are still there. You want to tell him that superficial wounds can’t mask the warmth in his caramel-brown eyes, the fullness of his cheeks and the sharp jawline, and the air of mystery that enshrouds him and draws people in.
But you don’t.
“Well, for someone who’s only been working here for two weeks, you’re doing superb. Injuries or not.”
And it’s true. You’ve always preferred to work alone because you’re the only one who understands how you want things done. You naturally assumed it would be a hassle and a waste of time to try to explain to someone else when you could just do it yourself, but Donghyuck never seems to need an explanation. In fact, he knows before even you.
He gets to the bakery three hours before you, cleans and preps all the equipment you need for the day, unloads the ingredient shipments, and is already manning the front counter by the time you arrive like it was no big deal at all. He also seems to have a sixth sense of knowing when you’re about to do something you shouldn’t be, even though you downplayed your back injury. He’s somehow always there―moving all the stuff you keep on the top shelf to somewhere within your reach even though you insisted that the rickety wooden step stool you use is perfectly safe, cleaning up a glass beaker that you accidentally shattered, taking out the trash during his breaks, checking in on you when you skip lunch. He even turned down his first paycheck, saying it’s repayment for patching him up and feeding him.
Donghyuck is so perfect that sometimes you wonder if you’re being set up, like maybe he’s secretly embezzling money from the cash register―which would be a more viable theory if he didn’t drive an Audi to work everyday.
“Thanks for the compliment. And the coffee,” Donghyuck says, snapping you out of your thoughts. He gingerly takes a sip and makes a strangled noise, a mixture being choking and retching, before slapping a hand over his mouth.
“Are you okay? Was it too hot?” you ask worriedly.
“No, it’s just…really bitter,” he mumbles, words muffled in his hand.
“Oh,” you blink, “Sorry. I drink black coffee, so I forgot to ask if you wanted creamer and sugar. Come on, there’s some in the back.”
The two of you head to the kitchen, and you watch him dump an exorbitant amount of creamer and sugar in his coffee, the dark roast swirling into something more akin to milk tea.
“You know, there might be some chocolate milk in the fridge if you’d rather that,” you tease.
His head shoots up, those doe eyes lighting up. “Really?”
“No,” you trail off awkwardly, “Sorry, I'm just messing with you.”
It’s a bit adorable that you can visibly see him being disappointed in there not being chocolate milk before growing embarrassed, looking down at his cup. He turns away from you, but you can see the flush on the back of his neck.
“You really have a sweet tooth, huh?” you laugh.
“Pretty lame, right?”
“Why would that be lame? You’re talking to someone who owns a bakery, in case you forgot.”
Donghyuck smiles at you, and it’s sugary sweet like buttercream frosting. He looks at you like you just said the most wonderful thing in the world; in fact, he always makes you feel like that, no matter what you say or do. “I guess you’re right.”
“What’s your favorite dessert?” you blurt, needing a distraction urgently.
He pauses briefly. “I don’t think I have one.”
That actually surprises you. “You don’t? Even though you love sweets so much?”
He laughs, the sound harsh and rough, and it almost makes you flinch. “I’ve never really had an opportunity to have many until now.”
There’s clearly weight behind his words, but you know you’re not in a position to ask any further. A selfish part of you wants to be important enough to him that you are in a position to know more, but you’re all too aware about him very purposefully keeping you at arm’s length.
“Well, you have plenty of time to find out,” you quickly continue, pretending not to notice. “Actually, I’m going to a blueberry farm tomorrow because I’m thinking about adding blueberry pie to the menu. When I get back, I’ll bake one for you, and you can be the first to taste test it!”
“You’re going by yourself?” Donghyuck raises an eyebrow.
“Of course. Who else would I go with?”
“Me. I’ll go with you,” he replies immediately.
“But it’s, like, a forty-five-minute bus ride to the farm. Plus, coming with me to get ingredients isn’t part of your job description anyway,” you explain.
“I can’t come with you on my own free time?” he asks, tilting his head. “Besides, I’m worried about you overexerting yourself with that back injury. A bumpy bus ride definitely isn’t going to help, so I’ll drive us there.”
“You’re going to drive that fancy ass car to a farm? You do realize it’s going to be dirt roads, right?” You cross your arms.
“I think I’ll live. Besides, what makes you think this is the only fancy ass car I own?” He gives you an amused smile.
“You’re joking, right?” You stare at him.
He hesitates for a moment. “Yes.”
“That doesn’t sound―”
“What time are we leaving tomorrow morning?”
“...Seven.”
.
.
.
Unsurprisingly, Donghyuck picks you up right on time, not a minute too early or late. As the universe would have it, it rained the night prior―meaning all the dirt roads are now rivers of mud. You wince every time you heard a splat of mud hit Donghyuck’s pristine white car, but he seems to pay no mind to it. The two of you arrive at the farm within twenty minutes (he found a shortcut), and because you came so early, you get the entire farm to yourselves. The staff arms both of you with a large wicker basket each before setting you loose onto the massive property.
“Okay, make sure to pick the fat ones. The small ones are super tart, so avoid those,” you instruct Donghyuck. “We’re going to fill these baskets to the brim and get our money’s worth.”
“You got it, Captain.” He salutes.
You give him a determined nod and a thumbs up before turning to your respective side and beginning to pick the blueberries. The two of you work without much fanfare or conversation, and it’s a silence that lingers between you comfortably. It reassures you to hear the sound of the bushes rustling from Donghyuck working; his companionship alone relaxes you.
Eventually, when the sun starts peeking through and the weather grows warmer, both of you decide to take a break. You find a spot in the shade before sitting down, pulling out snacks and bottles of water from a backpack Donghyuck brought along.
“I have a surprise for you,” you tell him, trying to hide a smile. “Close your eyes.”
He eyes you suspiciously but does so anyway. You fish out a handful of unripe blueberries wrapped in a handkerchief from your pocket and feed some to him. His reaction is nearly instant the moment he starts chewing them; you watch as his face puckers up from how sour they are and his entire body shrivels into itself, a shudder running through him. He’s polite enough to not spit them out, but you’re not polite enough to resist pointing and laughing at him. Throwing your head back, you laugh so hard that your stomach starts to hurt.
“Oh my God, your face!”
“Ugh,” Donghyuck groans, taking a big gulp of his water. “I should’ve known you had sinister intentions from the start.”
“I didn’t think you’d react like that,” you finally manage to say after catching your breath. “You really can’t handle anything except for sweet stuff.”
“Are you having fun bullying me?” He rolls his eyes.
“So much fun,” you say in a sing-song voice.
Donghyuck tries to continue feigning annoyance, but he can’t help the low chuckle that rumbles in his chest. His eyes always soften when he looks at you, and his gaze is intimate like a lover’s―gentle, tender, unwavering, and vulnerable. But his warmth is always fleeting, and he only allows you glimpses of it through the unmoving walls that he’s erected around himself.
You wish he wouldn’t indulge you so, terrified you’ll try to cross the line he’s drawn between the two of you.
“What are you thinking about?” Donghyuck asks, trying to read your expression
“About the delicious pie I’m about to make when we get back,” you smile.
“I see,” he responds, though it’s clear he isn’t convinced. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“You better be. This is how I’m paying you back for driving me here,” you nod.
“Instead of that, pay me back by telling me what your favorite dessert is,” he suddenly says. “I do still want the pie, though.”
“That was random,” you snort. “Why do you want to know my favorite dessert?”
“Because you asked me, but you never told me yours.”
You suppose he has a point, but you find it ironic that he wants to know more about you when he refuses to offer you even a modicum of information about himself. Despite this, you tell him anyway because you are obviously the fool here.
“If you must know, it’s red velvet cake,” you sigh.
“Why?”
You don’t answer at first, carefully thinking about if you’re ready to be vulnerable in front of him―still a virtual stranger. A virtual stranger who loves sweets. A virtual stranger who is a bit of a messy eater. A virtual stranger who knows Pompompurin. A virtual stranger who worries about you even when he’s not on the clock. A virtual stranger who gently tells you to be careful whenever you try to do something dangerous, whispering, “I’ll do it instead.” A virtual stranger who allows his luxury car to be caked in mud for you.
“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life,” you finally say. “I baked it for my mom’s birthday, and I think I ended up being more excited than her.”
Donghyuck stays quiet, gauging your reaction.
“I was in college, studying to be a doctor like everyone else in my family. So, like a dumb young person who thought that dreams were more important than money, I dropped out of college and went to culinary school. My parents told me I was ruining mine and their lives, disowned me, yada-yada―a bunch of depressing stuff, you know. Eventually, I graduated, took out a huge loan, and opened up my own bakery. Worked a bunch of part-time jobs until my business could stand on its own. Now here I am. Still in debt, though,” you laugh awkwardly. “But I’m not doing too shabby. I was able to hire you, so at least I have a little cash to spare.”
He still doesn’t say anything, so you find yourself starting to ramble. You’re really not sure what possessed you to trauma dump on him like that.
“You know, a lot of people talk shit about red velvet cake because they say the only thing that makes it special is the red food coloring,” you hurriedly explain, “but that’s not true. The cream cheese frosting is super important too. Also, I always say love is the most important ingredient of all. As a baker, you’re kind of baring your heart to the customer, and isn’t it kind of cute that red velvet cake is red like a heart? Okay, please say something now or else I think I’m going to projectile vomit.”
Donghyuck reaches over and brushes a sweaty lock of hair out of your face. His fingers brush over your temple, which makes you sharply suck in a breath. You almost lean into his touch, but you catch yourself. His hand slightly lingers on the side of your neck, like he wants to bring your face closer, but he eventually pulls away.
He searches your face, and you’re not sure what he’s looking for―if anything. Rather, perhaps he’s not searching. Perhaps he’s committing your features to his memory, as if the way you look right now is something he wants to remember forever.
“You’ve worked hard, Y/N,” he says softly, voice slightly hoarse. “This is long overdue, but congratulations. You achieved your dream, and don’t let anyone ever discount that. Not even yourself.”
You wonder how long you’ve waited to hear that. You’re not even sure you knew you needed to hear that. But when Donghyuck says it, it hits you just how long and hard you’ve worked all on your own without a single break. Throughout the years, you’ve really only ever heard, “I’m sorry that happened.” When was the last time someone congratulated you? When was the last time you congratulated yourself?
You surge forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his shoulder. Donghyuck cradles you against him, one hand wound tightly around your waist while the other is tangled in your hair. You can feel his chest rise up and down as he holds you. He smells like lavender soap and a bit earthy from being outside, and the warmth of his skin against your cheek makes you want to close your eyes and fall asleep in his arms.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
“No, thank you,” he murmurs into your hair.
You’re not sure why he’s thanking you instead, but what you are sure of is that you’re crossing the line, taking a step towards him and wondering if he’ll meet you halfway.
.
.
.
“Tada!” you announce cheerfully, setting down the freshly baked blueberry pie onto the table.
Donghyuck claps excitedly. “Holy shit, it looks amazing.”
“I’m still trying to figure out the right portions for the filling, so let me know if you think there’s too much or little,” you tell him as you hand him a slice.
Without even answering you, he stabs his fork into the pie and almost eats the entire slice in one bite, seemingly unbothered by the steam still rising from it.
“Be careful. You’re going to burn your tastebuds off. I’m not letting you eat it for shits and giggles, you know. This is for research purposes.” You cross your arms.
“It’s perfect, Y/N. I’m serious,” Donghyuck says after swallowing. “The filling isn’t too sweet, and the crust is airy and light.”
“Well, alright, Gordon Ramsay. I think we’re going to be adding a new menu item then,” you smile. “Think you can get Mrs. Kim to buy a dozen of these?”
“I don’t think she’ll need much convincing with how good these taste.”
“You’re so easy,” you tease. “All I need to do is feed you. Anyways, I’m going to clean up here, but you should head home. It’s getting late, and you wake up way earlier than me.”
“I’ll help,” he insists.
“Go,” you order, pointing at the door. “I can handle it.”
He looks conflicted but eventually relents when you threaten to physically kick him out. Before he leaves, he turns back to you and says, “Thank you, Y/N.”
“Why do you keep thanking me?” you laugh.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had this.”
“What? A blueberry pie?”
Donghyuck pauses, a slight wonder in his expression, as if he’s realizing his answer for the first time as well.
“Peace.”
And you think maybe this is a step forward for him too.
RECIPE 3. CREAM PUFF
It’s quite surreal how easily and naturally you and Donghyuck fall into a routine together. Somehow, in the blink of an eye, two weeks becomes two months. You’ve learned the little things about him, like how he always swipes some icing before you can fill up the piping bag or that he’s not a coffee drinker at all (more of a hot cocoa person) or that he purses his lips when a dessert he’s testing tastes off (no matter how hard he tries to hide it) or that he involuntarily sticks his arm out in front of you when he wants to stop you from doing something you shouldn’t.
You also notice that he sometimes comes into work with injuries. They’re not nearly as bad as the first time you met him, but it’s hard to ignore a bruised cheek or bloodied knuckles. He always has a reason for them, whether it’s tripping down the stairs or accidentally falling down and scraping his hands on the concrete. You can tell by the way he laughs it off that he doesn’t plan on telling you the truth, so you laugh with him. The two of you, having taken only a step towards one another, find yourselves completely immobile now.
He always does this: envelops you like a cloud but disappears the moment you reach out for him.
You’re honestly not sure why he’s still here. Your injury has long healed, and he clearly doesn’t need the abysmal pay you’re giving him. He feels like he’ll slip away at any moment, fleeting like a warm spring breeze, and you suppose time flies by when you know it’s limited. Despite knowing that, you can’t help but desperately want him to stay.
“I think it’s cute how hard he’s working,” Yeri randomly says one day as she eyes Donghyuck prepare orders in the front. He’s in the middle of a lunchtime rush, so he doesn’t even notice the two of you watching him like weirdos.
“Well, that’s what I’m paying him to do,” you reply, rolling his eyes.
“Oh, I think the money is the least of his worries here,” she hums, taking a sip of her coffee.
She has a point, but you’re pretty sure she’s implying something else as well. Just as you go to ask her what exactly she means, you hear a loud clatter. Flinching, you turn your attention back to Donghyuck and realize that he’s dropped a tray on the floor. However, the tray is the last thing on your mind when you see the expression on his face. It’s a mixture of horror, anger, and almost sadness―like he’s finally come face-to-face with whatever he’s been running from. It makes your blood run cold.
Donghyuck is looking at a boy around his age; the boy has dark hair, a mole under his eye, and a grim expression. More importantly, he’s covered in injuries too.
“Who is that?” Yeri whispers. “Why does Donghyuck look like he’s seen a ghost?”
Maybe because he has, you want to tell her.
Donghyuck grabs the boy's arm, squeezing so tightly that his knuckles turn white, and mumbles something to him. When he turns around and meets your eyes, he looks pained and fearful as if you witnessed something you shouldn’t have.
“Is it okay if I take my break early today?” he asks calmly, though the tremor in his voice gives him away.
You nod hesitantly, unable to force yourself to speak. You watch him as he drags the boy out; when he passes you, you can tell how tightly his body is wound right now. His jaw is clenched, a muscle spasming as he tries to control himself, and every step he takes seems labored. He’s running on pure adrenaline right now, like he’s physically steeling himself.
However, you don’t think he’s ever appeared so incredibly alone before. As you watch his back disappear further and further from your view, you’re unsure if he’ll ever return, and you never imagined how terrifying that would be.
.
.
.
The cream puffs aren’t rising.
You’re crouched in front of the oven, watching the dough remain flat and lifeless. You should’ve known better than to attempt to make cream puffs on such a shitty day, especially when pastries like these are so sensitive to the environment and atmosphere. Even though you know you should probably just scrap them and try again, you wait for just a little longer, hoping that maybe if you wish hard enough that they’ll magically start to rise.
But then again you suppose that no matter how hard you try, no matter how careful you are, no matter how perfect the batter is, no matter how much time you spend time piping them, no matter how much you want them to rise, they won’t.
You decide that Donghyuck isn’t like a tiramisu at all; he’s sensitive and delicate and elusive and frustrating like a cream puff.
“Y/N, they’re burning.”
Losing your balance and nearly falling over, you gasp loudly. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even hear Donghyuck walk into the kitchen, nor did you smell the undeniable scent of something being burnt to a crisp.
“Oh, fu―!” you curse, hurriedly opening the oven and casually suffocating both you and Donghyuck with a hot plume of air. Sputtering, you look around and grab a random rag from the sink before reaching for the cream puffs.
“Wait, stop!” Donghyuck stops you with an outstretched arm, his hand pressed to your side. “Let me do it.”
He gently takes the rag from your hand and removes the tray of charred cream puffs from the oven, dumping them into the trash before putting the tray in the sink and running some water on it―just how you like it.
Letting out a relieved sigh, he turns back to you and asks, “Are you okay? It’s not like you to make a mistake like that. You didn’t get burned anywhere, did you?”
When you don’t answer immediately, Donghyuck rushes forward and grabs your hands, carefully examining your fingers and arms. “Wait, are you hurt? Where? Tell me where you got burned. We have to cool it down with some lukewarm water. And don’t just say you’re fine. Burns are not a joke, Y/N―why are you looking at me like that?”
His hands are calloused and rough, and you can still see scabs from where he tore his knuckles, yet he touches you like you’re the delicate one. He’s covered in fresh and old wounds, yet he looks so panicked at the thought of you having a scratch.
“Shut up,” you whisper furiously, ripping your hands away from him. “From now on, don’t ask me another question. It’s my turn to ask you questions.”
He blinks, a bit stunned by your reaction, but it’s clear he knows what you’re about to say. He goes to reach for you again but decides against it. “Okay.”
“Who was that guy?” you demand. “Why are you always covered in injuries? Why did you lie to me? Who are you?”
“He’s an old friend,” Donghyuck starts quietly.
“Do you treat all your friends like that?”
“When I don’t want to see them.”
You wait for him to continue.
“Before I met you, he and I and a few of our other friends worked…odd jobs for cash,” he explains, and he looks like he’s choking on every word. “The jobs usually entailed us hurting people and also getting hurt. I did a lot of shit I wasn’t proud of. At the time, I didn’t really care. It was just nice to feel something, whether it was the adrenaline rush from doing the punching or the pain from being punched. I got a bunch of money, bought a bunch of expensive stuff, but none of it mattered. Eventually, I just felt nothing again. I didn’t even have the energy to loathe myself anymore. So, I took one last job, got the shit kicked out of me, and then I left. That’s when you found me―”
He inhales, and his eyes flicker towards you. He gazes at you so longingly, as if you were impossibly out of his reach, that you can’t help but involuntarily take a step towards him.
But he steps back.
“I thought that working here would make me feel like a human being again, but I didn’t realize how much I would―” He pauses again. “I thought working here would be a nice reset for me, but I naively thought that I could completely leave my past behind. My friends eventually found me, and I guess I care about those reckless assholes more than I thought because they managed to convince me to take on a few more jobs with them. That’s why I’ve been coming to work with injuries. But I’m done. I cut them off for good when they walked into this bakery. I don’t want…I don’t want our past to tarnish this place. I want to keep this place a beautiful, warm, and pure safe haven that you worked so hard for it to be. That’s why I lied to you, Y/N. I’m a coward to the bone, and I was envious of you. I was ashamed to admit it to you. You, who had the courage to chase after your dream. You, who had the kindness to help a good-for-nothing asshole like me. I only want you to have happy memories from now on, and I am not one of them.”
“Are you going to leave?” you ask softly.
“I probably should,” he answers shakily.
“What’s stopping you?”
“Just…one reason.”
“When you say it like that, it makes it sound like the reason is me.”
Donghyuck laughs bitterly, and his eyes drag across your face like every movement hurts him.
“You know it’s you. It’s always been you.”
When you reach for his hand, he turns away like just the warmth from your body heat burns him. So instead, you take a step back.
“I won’t ask you to stay, Donghyuck, I won’t chase you. I’m going to wait right here, and it’s up to you if you're going to meet me halfway.”
RECIPE 4. RED VELVET CAKE
When your alarm clock goes off the next morning, you seriously consider just not showing up to work. It’s not like you can be fired for being a no-show when you’re your own boss, after all.
And it’s not like you have any employees who will be expecting you.
You’ll just apologize to Mrs. Kim and your other regulars later. You’re allowed to have a day where you just rot in bed and feel sorry for yourself.
However, no matter how much you tell yourself that, you find yourself crawling out of bed and getting ready anyway. You can’t seem to brutally crush that small glimmer of hope that Donghyuck might still be there, no matter how hard you try. When you see yourself in the mirror, you recoil in horror. Your eyes are almost swollen shut from the amount of crying you did last night, and your face is sallow and lifeless.
So much for putting on a brave face, you think wryly to yourself. You tried so hard to look tough, when in reality, you bawled your eyes out and even considered praying to God for Donghyuck to stay. It’s a humiliating and humbling reality check.
“Stand up right now,” you sharply tell yourself in the mirror. “He’s just some guy. Get it together.”
You do your best to clean up your appearance and make the trek over to the bakery. It takes another internal pep talk before you can make your way to the door. After you finally walk up, you see that the lights inside are off. Your stomach sinks, and your eyes start to burn. Even though you’re holding the handle, you can’t bring yourself to open the door. It’s an outcome that you expected, yet you wonder why it hurts so badly.
“You liar,” you mumble to yourself, “You said you only wanted me to have happy memories.”
Once you make your way inside, you numbly head towards the kitchen, trying to remember what exactly you have to do today. Oh right, now that he’s not here, you also have to make sure all the ingredients are prepped first.
When you walk into the kitchen, you do a double-take.
The whole place looks like it’s been completely ransacked: used pans and utensils piled up in the sink, two opened boxes of cake mix, containers of ingredients without lids on on the tables, random lumps of flour and egg shells strewn about―
And right in front of the oven is Donghyuck, flour in his hair and frosting on his nose. He’s holding a cake stand with…you think it’s supposed to be a cake on it? The shape is mangled and haphazardly cut, but it has echoes of a heart. The frosting is a hot mess, as if a bird with diarrhea shat all over the cake. The batter is clearly underbaked and makes the cake look gooey in a bad way.
“Um, I promise I’ll clean all of this up in a second, but I wanted to surprise you,” Donghyuck starts awkwardly. “It’s not perfect, but I tried making a red velvet cake for you.”
You stare at him, still not sure how to react.
“You once said that baking is like baring your heart to the customer and that love is the most important ingredient of all,” he laughs softly to himself. “I think love is the only ingredient I managed to get right, but I’m baring my heart to you now, Y/N. I’m sorry I hid everything and lied to you, but I’m in love with you. Hopelessly so. All my life, I’ve chased a feeling, not knowing what it was. But now I do. I don’t think I knew how to feel until I met you. I never once thought I would ever have a purpose in my life, but you make me want to be a normal, proper member of society. Your dream is my dream. I want to wake up at 5AM and sell egg tarts with you for the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.”
Donghyuck sets the cake down on a table in front of you, and you notice that his fingers are dyed red from the food coloring. It almost reminds you of when you first met him, except his injuries have been replaced with red food coloring, flour, and cream cheese frosting.
“This cake is terrible,” you smile, “how did you butcher it that badly when you used cake mix?”
You watch him blush all the way down to his neck, as he sheepishly looks away. “Don’t make fun of me. I really tried my best. I stayed up watching tutorials―”
Leaning across the table, you cup his face with both hands and kiss him, brushing your thumbs across his cheekbones. He tastes like frosting, hot cocoa, and your prayers being answered. The way he kisses you back is bruising, dizzying and knocking any coherent thought out of your head, his hands finding your hips and anchoring you to him. He kisses you like you’re the sweetest and most wonderful thing he’s ever tasted.
When you finally pull away, it takes you a moment to regain feeling in your legs. Donghyuck presses his forehead against yours, lips brushing against yours once again as the two of you try to catch your breath.
“I think I’m going to have to fire you, though,” you whisper. “You know, with me being your boss and all. The power dynamic is too weird.”
He hums, pausing for thought. “Then how about I become your business partner?”
“What?”
Donghyuck reaches into his pocket and fishes out his wallet, pulling out a shiny and fancy-looking credit card. He hands it to you without much fanfare.
“I have a lot of money, you know. So I’m going to invest in your business. Use it as you’d like,” he casually announces.
You stare at him, your jaw hanging wide open. He never tried to hide from you that he was rich, but he never told you that he was rich rich.
“Well, damn! Why didn’t you show me this earlier? I would have forgiven you a lot sooner,” you tease, slapping him on the arm. “Are you sure you want to give this to me? I’m quite the gold-digger, you know.”
“When I told you to use it as you’d like, I meant me as well,” Donghyuck replies, shrugging.
“You’re insane.” You hope he can’t tell how much your face is burning up.
“I guess I am,” he laughs, and you don’t think he’s ever looked so free. You want to tell him that you hope he only has happy memories from now on too. You want to tell him that you’ll rewrite all of his scars with sugary and fluffy desserts so that they won’t ever hurt again.
And for the first time in your life, you feel it too.
Peace.
EXTRA
“So, have you figured out what your favorite dessert is?”
Donghyuck stirs slightly, groaning, as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. He slips his hand under your shirt (well, technically it’s his shirt) and rests it on your bare hip bone.
“Why aren’t you asleep?”
“Because I’m curious.”
“If I answer, will you let me rest?”
“Depends on how good your answer is.”
“Blueberry pie. That’s my answer.”
You smile against the crook of his neck.
“Why?”
“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life.”
#nct imagines#nct scenarios#haechan fluff#haechan angst#nct dream fluff#nct dream angst#nct 127 fluff#nct 127 angst#nct 127 imagines#haechan#nct#choerrypuffs
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i like the way you kiss me - rafe cameron
Baby daddy! Rafe x Baby mama! Maybank! Reader
Masterlist
Rafe Cameron Masterlist
More Baby Daddy! Rafe
Summary:
i like the way you kiss me
i can tell you miss me
i can tell it hits, hits, hits, hits
not tryna be romantic,
i’ll hit it from the back
just so you don’t get attached
Rafe stops over for a surprise visit with his daughter. She may not be home, but that doesn’t mean he has to leave, does it?
Warnings:
Smut (18+ only!), p in v, fingering, dirty talk, slight breeding kink
Word Count: 4.2k
A/N:
Yay, my first Rafe fic! And y’all I haven’t written smut in years so I hope this isn’t awful. I would love to turn this into a sort-of series of interconnected baby daddy! Rafe and baby mama! reader one shots if you guys would be interested in that!
—
“Maaaamaaaaa!”
You couldn’t help but smile to yourself when you were woken up by the baby monitor. Iris never woke up angry and crying, you were greeted every morning to the sounds of her babbling to herself and calling for you.
It may have been earlier than you’d like, but it certainly wasn’t a bad way to wake up.
You climbed out of bed, wiping your eyes before standing and walking down the hall towards the nursery. There was a chorus of “Mamamamama” as you headed towards your 1 year old daughter, who greeted you standing in her crib with the biggest smile. Her sleep sack was tucked beneath her feet - you’re not sure how she even manages to stand in it.
“Hi, pretty girl,” you greeted her, earning a giggle from the baby. She never failed to brighten up your mood, just by existing. You always heard a parent’s love for their child is intense, but you didn’t quite believe it until you had her and experienced it yourself.
She also happens to be the cutest baby to ever exist. With her head full of brown hair and blue eyes, she is certainly her father’s daughter. She’s tall for her age, too. You thought it was a little bit bullshit that you carried her for 9 months and did all the hard work just for her to come out her dad’s twin, but how could you really complain when she was so beautiful?
Iris lifted her arms for you to pick her up, and you couldn’t help but give her a snuggle before you moved to the changing table. You got her changed out of her pajamas and into a clean diaper, dressing her for the day in a light green dress with bunnies embroidered on the chest, a long sleeve white shirt underneath.
Iris had an extensive wardrobe. Shopping for clothes and putting together outfits was one of your favorite parts of being a girl mom, so you were certainly guilty of overspending on her, but the truth was that most of her closet came from Rafe. In fact, most of her stuff in general was from Rafe.
You never asked him to do any of that, but he was always showing up unannounced with shopping bags full of baby clothes, toys, anything he saw and thought she would like. Random packages would show up throughout the week, stuff he found online and sent directly to your house. He spoiled her badly, but it made them both happy, so you didn’t complain. You wanted her to have the world, anything she wanted, and you couldn’t quite provide that, but Rafe could.
“Good morning, my favorite tiny person!” Your twin brother, JJ, greeted his niece as he walked into the pink bedroom. She giggled the second she saw him, and he scooped her into his arms, twirling her around and making her laugh harder.
“JayJay!” she exclaimed, her tiny hands reaching for his messy blonde hair immediately.
“And I also exist…” you mumbled as you threw the dirty diaper away in the pail, but you couldn’t help the smile on your lips.
JJ acknowledged you with an eye roll before turning right back to Iris. “Are you ready for a day out with Uncle JJ?”
Iris grinned wildly at her uncle, one of her favorite people in the world. She didn’t exactly know what that meant, but if it involved JJ, she was certainly happy to be there.
You made pancakes for breakfast, which both JJ and Iris absolutely devoured. Iris was covered in a mess of syrup when she was finished, but thanks to a combination of her bib and baby smock thing, she didn’t get a drop on her outfit. You cleaned up her face and hands, Iris fighting you the entire time.
“You have everything she needs?” You asked nervously as JJ packed up the diaper bag, Iris dancing in front of the TV to the Bluey theme song.
“I got diapers, wipes, a sippy cup, a change of clothes…I think I’m set, sis,” he said, giving a look that says calm down, I’ve got this.
It was hard for you to not be nervous letting your daughter go off without you. She was still rarely out of your sight, besides Rafe’s weekends. You were too nervous to send her to daycare, at least not yet, and Rafe agreed, so he helped pay the bills in the house you shared with JJ while you stayed home with her, which gave you the chance to work on college courses online.
“You packed snacks in case she gets hungry?” You asked, fiddling with the string of your pajama shorts. You hadn’t even had the chance to get changed into real clothes yet, since you’d been following Iris around all morning and making sure she was set to go.
“Yes,” JJ answered, sounding frustrated. “I’ve got this. We won’t even be gone long, she’s going to be fine.”
You probably would have come up with another question, but you were all interrupted by the front door opening as someone let themselves into the house like they owned the place. You and JJ looked towards the direction of the hallway as the sound of footsteps trailed down it, even though you definitely already knew who it was.
“Dada!” Iris practically squealed, and she ran as fast as her little legs would carry her towards the tall frame of her father, who was grinning like crazy and setting down a bag.
“There’s my girl,” he said, crouching down with his arms open wide to catch her. She tripped over her own feet at the last second, falling against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, standing to his full height again. Iris wrapped her tiny arms around his neck.
“She was just about to head out for a date with Uncle JJ,” you said, smiling at your daughter’s laughing face.
Rafe looked away from her to give you a questioning look. “Why is JJ taking her?” he asked like your brother wasn’t even in the room. JJ rolled his eyes, but didn’t bother to say anything.
“He wanted to spend time with her,” you answered. “And I have a big exam to take so I needed a couple hours alone.”
Rafe looked at you like he was confused, concerned. He was protective of his girl. “If you needed someone to watch her, you should have called me.”
“I know you’d watch her any time,” you said, not wanting to argue with him today. “But JJ really has been wanting to take her to the park, so I told him he could.”
Rafe’s eyes finally went to JJ, and he scoffed with a roll of his eyes, but didn’t push it. He sat Iris back down as JJ zipped up the diaper bag and slung it over his shoulder, picking up the car keys.
“Alright, little lady, ready to go?” JJ asked, a smile on his face as Iris danced around.
“Go! Go!” She chanted, jumping up and down. JJ picked her up, sitting her on his hip.
“Alright. We’re gone,” he said, leaning over to give you a kiss on the cheek. “See you guys later.”
“Have fun!” you called after them. “Be safe!”
JJ acknowledged you with a “Yep!” and then the front door was closing, leaving you alone with Rafe.
You looked at him. He didn’t look like he was in a rush to leave.
“What did you bring?” you asked, gesturing to the bag he had sat by his feet.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” he shrugged. “Just some clothes.”
You laughed lightly to yourself - the little girl already had so many clothes, you weren’t sure if she’d be able to wear them all before she grew out of them.
You took the bag from him, sitting it down on the couch to go through later. You always liked to wash her clothes before letting her wear them, because who knows what kind of germs they’ve picked up in the store.
Rafe trailed behind you as you walked back into the kitchen, picking up the dishes from breakfast and washing them in the sink. He stood next to you without a word and helped by drying them after you washed.
When you were done, you turned around, leaning against the counter. Rafe picked up the stack of dishes and put them away in the cabinet they go in, before walking over to stand right in front of you. He reached up, pushing your hair behind your shoulder.
“You look pretty,” he murmured, his eyes taking in your frame.
You laughed softly. “I haven’t even changed out of my pajamas. I just rolled out of bed.”
A smile played at Rafe’s lips, his hand moving to rest on your cheek. “So? You’re always pretty.”
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the way your heart beat harder in your chest, your cheeks beginning to heat. “Didn’t you have a date last night, Rafe?”
That made him chuckle. “You knew about that, huh?”
You felt embarrassed, then. You weren’t supposed to know that. The only reason you did was because Sarah had told you. You weren’t supposed to care.
“It was nothing,” he continued. “We didn’t really click. She was…boring.”
You felt guilty for the satisfaction that brought you. Rafe hadn’t had a serious girlfriend since you had gotten pregnant, and you liked it that way. You and Rafe weren’t good for each other, you broke up long ago and it should stay that way. But you can’t help how jealous you feel any time the topic of Rafe and another girl comes up, and Rafe always seems to catch an attitude with you for days every time you mention seeing a guy.
“Well I’m sorry to hear that,” you lied, highly aware of how close he was standing to you now.
His thumb rubbed over your cheek before he moved it to your lips, tracing over them, pulling down slightly on your bottom lip.
“Missed you…” he muttered, his voice low. You felt the vibrations of it through your own body.
Despite your best judgment, your mind went hazy around him. You could feel his breath against your cheek. “I’ve missed you too,” you whispered back, like a fool.
He smirked at that, and then before you knew what was happening, he was leaning in, pressing his lips to yours. They molded together perfectly, as they always did. Rafe’s lips were soft against yours as he kissed you gently at first, almost as if he was testing the waters.
The kiss became more hungry before long, and then he was pressing his body closer to yours, one hand staying on your cheek while the other moved down to rest on your hip. He had his body pressed against yours, practically devouring you with his kiss, his tongue tracing along your bottom lip.
You let him in. Of course you did, you always do.
His tongue pressed into your mouth like it belongs to him. There’s never been anything shy about Rafe. You heard yourself moan into the kiss before you even realized it was you that made the noise, and you felt Rafe’s lips turn up into a grin as he kissed you.
His big hands trailed down your body until he bent down and they reached the backs of your thighs, then he was lifting you up, causing you to squeal and wrap your legs around his waist, giggling against his lips. He laughed too, and he began walking through the house and back towards your bedroom.
He dropped you on the bed and you looked up at him, already breathless. He wasted no time before he was crawling over you, his right hand leaning on the bed and his left sliding beneath the hem of your tank top. It slid up until he was cupping your bare breast, grabbing it and gently pinching at your nipple, drawing a moan from your lips.
He placed kisses all over your neck, gently biting every now and then, as his hand kept up its movements. “You always had the perfect fucking tits,” he groaned against your skin.
He sat up, his other hand joining in on your other breast. He yanked your tank top up to palm at your tits more, giving himself full view of them, thoroughly enjoying himself. Eventually he pulled the thin material over your head entirely, tossing it onto the floor carelessly.
Then he leaned forward again, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your shorts. His fingertips traced along your pussy over your panties, feeling how wet the material was already. That made him groan against your tits, sending a shock of vibrations through your sensitive nipple.
“Feels like you’ve been wanting this,” he said, satisfied with the effect he still has on you.
You didn’t even bother denying that. You wanted him desperately. His every touch was like electricity, and all you wanted was to feel him inside you again.
His hand moved up to slip beneath your panties, and you gasped when you felt his fingertips teasing over your slick folds. He moved up to press his lips to yours again, kissing you passionately as he pressed a finger against your entrance.
“Rafe…” you breathed out against his lips, and he groaned at the sound of his name on your tongue. He never got tired of it.
“You gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked, placing kisses around your mouth, over your cheek.
“Yes,” you promised him. You would have promised him anything in that moment, you think.
He pushed one long finger into you then, and you whined, back arching slightly. His eyes darted down to your chest at the movement, and you would have laughed at his obsession with your tits if you weren’t distracted by the feeling of his finger knuckle deep inside you.
He curled it up, pressing right up against that bundle of nerves deep inside you. You’re losing your mind from one finger - it really had been too long.
He added in another finger, stretching you further, and you felt the cold from his ring as he pushed both fingers in all the way. It sent shivers through your body. You were desperate for him to move, to just fuck you already, but he always liked to take his time with you.
After what felt like an eternity, he slowly began to pull his fingers out before pushing them back in. The pace was agonizingly slow, but he was also pushing against that perfect spot every time he thrusted his fingers all the way back inside.
“More, please,” you begged him, your eyes fluttering closed and body writhing beneath him with desperation. You began to push your hips down against his hand, begging him to move faster.
“Look at you,” he chuckled darkly, and you could hear the grin in his voice without having to open your eyes. “Fucking yourself on my fingers. You were always such a needy little slut.”
You felt yourself blushing at his dirty words, but they also only turned you on more, and you started moving your hips along the length of his fingers even faster. He groaned at the sight of you, and he began thrusting his fingers into you at a powerful pace, wanting to reward you for being good for him.
His palm pressed against your clit, rubbing against it perfectly as he kept hitting that perfect spot over and over.
You felt that familiar feeling building deep in your belly, and your thighs began trembling. Rafe noticed, picking up his movements.
“Feel good, baby? Gonna cum on my fingers?” he teased, watching your face with full interest.
“Yes,” you whined, feeling like your vision was going blurry. You felt it through every part of your body, and your pussy clenched tight around his fingers, which he couldn’t get enough of.
Your orgasm crashed through you without warning and you cried out, body arching and hips rocking against his hand even harder. Rafe worked you through it, praising you, watching you come undone on nothing but his fingers.
“Good little whore,” he praised, watching you hungrily. “You want my cock now?”
“Yes!” you answered quickly, practically yelling it. “Yes, please, Rafe.”
Satisfied with your answer, he removed his fingers from your pussy, making you whine at the empty feeling, despite the incredible orgasm you just came down from. Your eyes popped open and you made eye contact as he put his slick fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan.
He moved to his knees between your legs, pulling his own shirt over his head and tossing it away. You took in the sight of his muscular chest, toned abs, thick biceps. You felt like you were drooling over him. Your attention didn’t escape his notice, and he laughed.
His big hands slid over your smooth tanned legs, from your calves to your thighs. He squeezed them, and then he was moving even further up, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and panties and pulling them down together.
When you were completely bare before him, he drank in your naked body, eyes raking over you with obvious hunger. You could see the prominent bulge in his khaki colored shorts, and you wanted so badly to reach out and touch it.
His hands moved to his belt, and he made quick work of his pants, undoing them and pushing them down his legs. He was left in his boxers, and you did reach forward then, trailing your fingers lightly over his clothed cock.
He groaned at your touch, his hips involuntarily bucking forward. He didn’t say it, but you suspected it had been a while for him, too, and the thought of that pleased you. He gripped your wrist roughly, stopping your movements but looking like he really hadn’t wanted to.
“I don’t have long today,” he said, his breathing heavy now. “Made plans. We have to be quick.”
He pushed his boxers down his thighs, revealing his cock, already painfully hard and aching, pre cum smeared at his tip. You took in the sight of it like you were starving. He was so big, it had intimidated you the first time you slept together. Hell, it intimidated you now. You wanted to take him in your mouth, but that’s not what he had in mind today.
He crawled back over you, leaning on his arms on either side of your shoulders. He leaned down to kiss you deeply, then moved to placing kisses along your jawline and down your neck, over your chest. It was nice, and you sighed at the feeling.
“You’re still on the pill, right?” he questioned as you felt his thick length pressing up against your core. You shivered at the feeling.
“Yes,” you answered. As cute as Iris was, you both could agree that you didn’t need another accidental pregnancy when you weren’t even together.
“Good,” he replied, and then he was reaching down between your bodies, lining his tip up with your entrance.
When he finally pushed inside you, you gasped at the stretch, gripping onto his biceps for leverage, which he loved. He pushed into you slowly, knowing it had been a while since you’d been together and not wanting to hurt you. When he bottomed out, he stilled, but his body was shaking like all he wanted to do was fuck into you senselessly.
You let out a shaky exhale, and he kissed you again.
“You feel so perfect, like you’re made for me,” he breathed against your lips, and you moaned at his words.
“You can move,” you told him. “I can take it.”
He groaned at that, and then he slowly pulled out until only the tip remained inside of you, and you found yourself hating the empty feeling he left behind. Then he pushed back in slowly yet powerfully with a roll of his hips, and you felt full again.
He set a gentle pace at first, rocking into you deeply but softly. He kissed you as he moved, distracting you from any potential pain, wanting to keep your focus on him and how good he makes you feel. Because no one does it like him.
“More,” you pleaded when there was no trace of pain left, and all you wanted him to do was fuck you properly. “Harder, please, Rafe.”
You didn’t have to tell him twice. He picked up the pace, rutting into your tight heat faster. He buried his face in your neck, groaning at the feeling of you wrapped so tightly around him.
Whimpers and moans fell from your own lips uncontrollably as he fucked you hard, his cock diving even deeper into you than you remembered and making you see stars. Your nails dug into his back, leaving deep red scratches that made him hiss in a mix of pain and pleasure. He loved it when you marked him up.
His sat up more on his knees and his hands grasped the bottoms of your thighs, pushing them up until they were pressed against your chest, making it harder to breathe but also letting him fuck you at a new angle that was impossibly deep and overwhelming.
You let out a strangled moan at the new feeling, and Rafe grunted harshly with every brutal thrust into your pussy.
“Love this fucking cunt,” he grunted out through gritted teeth, a slight sheen of sweat on his tanned skin. “Always think about it. Always come back to it. Can’t fucking get enough of it.”
He moved one hand back to your clit, rubbing circles over it as he fucked you deep. You gasped, moaning loudly as he built up another orgasm in your body, that familiar heat spreading all over you.
“Rafe…’m so close…” you whined out, which only made him move even harder.
“Cum for me again, baby. All over my cock this time. You can do it, baby, I’m right here.” he’s breathing heavily as he speaks, his own release building rapidly.
The tension snaps, and you cum hard, thighs trembling around his body and his name spilling from your lips like a prayer. He worked you through it again, his fingers continuing to work circles over your clit until it became too much.
When you came down from your second high and were left a shaking mess beneath him, he moved both hands back to grip your thighs against your chest as he fucked into you roughly, chasing his own high that was so, so close.
“Gonna fill you up in a second, baby,” he grunts out, watching the way you look up at him, looking completely cock drunk because of him. “You want that?”
“Yes,” you managed to tell him, your body weak now. “Want you to cum in me deep.”
“Yeah?” he questioned, your words clearly doing something to him. “I bet you would like that. I bet you’d love if I put another baby in you, wouldn’t you, whore?”
All you could do was moan in response, taking everything he gave you. His pace began to falter, his hips stuttering as he took everything he wanted from you. He pushed into you as deep as he could, stilling, leaning forward to bury his face in your neck again as he groaned loudly and filled you deeply. You grasped the back of his head as he came inside you, holding him close.
He didn’t move for a minute when he was done. He stayed on you, catching his breath, as you held him back.
Eventually he pulled out of you, collapsing next to you with a big sigh. He wiped his hand across his forehead, breathing heavily. It was silent but for the sounds of the two of you catching your breath.
Finally, you spoke. “You really missed me, huh?” you teased him, looking over at his naked form on your bed.
He laughed, lifting himself up. “‘Course I did. I always do.” He stood from the bed and began to pull his clothes back on, tossing you yours as he found them. When he was dressed, you finally stood from the bed, still naked, about to head into the bathroom for a shower.
“I gotta get going,” Rafe said, pulling his shoes back on. “But I’ll see you soon.”
“Yeah. I have to do my exam.” You watched him as he stood, his full 6’2” form towering over you.
“I’ll text you,” he said, leaning forward and placing a kiss on your cheek. It felt intimate, and it made you blush. “Give Iris kisses for me when they get home. Let me know she gets back safe.”
“I will,” you promised him.
He gave you one last smile, and then he was gone. You heard the front door closing as you gathered up some clean clothes to change into after your shower.
When you got out of the shower, you smiled to yourself as you saw the missed text from Rafe. You opened it, and rolled your eyes as you read it, but you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face anyway.
Rafey
Miss you already.
#rafe cameron#rafe#outer banks#obx#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#outer banks smut#rafe cameron drabble#baby daddy rafe#keeryhours writes#rafe obx#outer banks imagines#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron fic#dilf rafe#dilf rafe cameron#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron fanfiction
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Unbeknownst to Wally, the notes are from Clockwork desperately trying to contact anyone who can actually influence the timestream outside the Observant’s watchful eyes.
After getting the notes to Bruce, they reveal the frantic ramblings of a [Parent? Mentor? Guardian?], desperately crying out for them to save his [word untranslatable but presumed to mean son, mentee, or child] from a government organization a few universes over.
The being, who introduces himself as Clockwork, reveals he cannot influence anything himself but can watch over the streams of time and has observed Wally’s ability to interfere and change it’s threads. If his [son?] dies, it will mean the destruction of all of the infinite realms (a cosmic foil to the speed force that’s a force of death and timelessness instead of life and the constant movement forward of the universe).
All in all, the letters are rushed, barely explain anything except location, date, what condition he’s in, and how to save the boy.
Who exactly is this boy? Why is he so important to the Infinite Realms? What are the Infinite Realms exactly? Who is this “Clockwork” and why are they so important? Who are the Observants? And so many more. All are valid questions, and all are entirely unanswered.
But regardless, with Captain Marvel confirming the existence of the Infinite Realms, that it was under attack, and the very real negative effects it would have on their universe if it collapsed; Wally must now gather a crew and embark on a rescue mission across universes to save this kid[? They actually don’t really know his status of age other than he’s younger and in the care of the mysterious “Clockwork” who sent the letters in the first place].
Batman, because… of course he’s going to go investigate what the hell is happening. Not only can his eye for strategy, stealth, hacking, and intimidation give the team an advantage in getting the most answers out of the government ages there. But Bruce also has so many damn questions, barely any of which were answered by the notes Wally received, so he needs to go into this mission to investigate not only this new alternate universe government threat but to get as much information possible before they leave, in addition to ensuring Clockwork’s child is safely rescued.
Clark is elected as he is most likely to handle whatever this government organization has in store (and Clark “got injured” in the most recent supervillain battle that smashed into the Daily Planet, so he conveniently has some time off while he “recovers from his injury.” But also because he heard a kid was in danger and, well, it feels wrong to not help someone in need).
Captain Marvel (god, they gotta get to know the guy more. he’s so damn reserved but is great at this particular brand of buck-wild missions), not only because of his incredible intelligence, invulnerability, strength, and being great with kids and teenagers; but also is primarily chosen for the team due to his knowledge of the Infinite Realms. He can also give live feedback on the state of the Realm that’s apparently actively tearing apart and crumbling! If something goes wrong, Cap will be able to give them a warning before all shit breaks loose.
Next recruitment is Patrick O’Brian, aka Plastic Man. His abilities of stealth (if he can keep his mouth shut), infiltration (absolutely), invulnerability (overpowered as high hell), versatility (dear god he can literally become anything or anyone as long as it’s in his own color pallet), and because he has a particular soft-spot for kids.
(Plas and Clark are already moping to each other about having to leave their respective partners (Woozy and Lois) behind. Meanwhile Wally is biting at the chance for just a tiny break from the twins, sorry Linda.)
Lastly, brought surprisingly by Captain Marvel is Booster Gold. His additional experience in time-travel and time stream manipulation will come mighty in handy during the mission. It helps that Booster has some “Bona fide genuine ecto-weapons, dudes! Let’s go and save Phantom!” that he brought from the 25th century. And, well. At least now they had the name “Phantom” from Booster to work off of.
Kon and Thad are notified to be on-call for the Recovery Team’s arrival back as clones were mentioned in one of the hundreds of notes and Clark thought it might be nice for the boys to have another friend they can relate to. Tim and Bart are close behind because despite Bruce and Max telling them to not interfere, they want to also meet the alternate universe breaking guy who has enough trust from Clark to keep Kon and Thad on-deck in case they’re needed to help the guy make some friends his age.
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This is rushed and not super refined, I just wanted to get the basic initial idea out of my head & get it out there. So sorry if this is a tad wonky to read at times, that’s my bad
Short DPXDC Prompts #576
Wally doesn’t understand these strange messages written on bright green post-it notes that keep appearing near him. Whatever it’s trying to say, the messages keep increasing in amount every day.
#god this was mean to be short but the ideas just kept coming#this isn’t particularly well written or has a great plot and is just the set up but I’m tired and heading to bed now so this is what ya get#bones writes#dp x dc#bones replies#modern takes on the Golden Age characterization of Plastic Man and Captain Marvel/Shazam supremacy#i think their vibes. especially plas’s comedic antics faced with a serious written character such as Marvel#that derived humor in the original comics Not from words or quips (although they definitely were there! just Marvel wasn’t the one doing it#generally) was often from the situations Marvel got into. not the words or puns he said#meanwhile Plas’s Quality Comics combo of physical and verbal comedy present a delightful foil to the Captain#in addition to their shared Pure Goodness and insistence of never doing crime because it’s Bad#(for Billy: because it makes him feel bad bc of his extremely strict and rigid moral compass)#(for plas: because he’s a reformed crook and he’s not going back to those days. no siree. he’s reformed through and through.)#plus their mutual fright of women and avoiding women’s advances on them (sure they have different reasons for doing so with Billy being bc#he’s a literal child and for Plas it’s because he’s not only uninterested in women but actively avoids literally any romantic invances#with the same furiosity an extreme arachnophobic would have to avoid spiders at all cost#) that and Plas’s yearn for taking care of kids but being utterly piss poor at doing so#so a self sufficient child like Billy would be genuinely perfect for him to try to take care of#honestly? golden aged Billy Batson is probably more sufficient than both plas and woozy combined for acting like an adult#don’t forget. woozy and plas ARE smart. they just forget that and fuck up horribly whenever there’s comedic gag to be had as a result#also. Billy in this is Golden Aged Billy Batson so Captain Marvel is as well#his WEAKNESS is magic. NOT his strength. he is op smart. strong. wise. etc. and is the physical form of the magic lightning#so Billy and Cap are simultaneously the same yet different people and can essentially astral project themselves to talk to the other#bc while I like the modern shazam… in concept. the ‘hard down on their luck orphan who was a last ditch effort for Shazam + mind of a child’#really is not the interpretation I think they should’ve gone for at all and I like the Captain Marvel ‘different guy than Billy +#billy is actually pure of heart with a rigid moral compass with the original heart of gold and NOT the ‘mind of a child’ metaphor instead’#bones writes in the tags#also. one last additional note. even though this has never been in character for booster gold. I feel like he Should talk like bill and Ted.#it’s just vibes. but god I want someone So Fucking Badly to write a crossover of them meeting in time and booster giving them terrible#just fucking absolutely terrible girl advice until bill & ted realize that they should just be themselves and that’s what truly matters
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