#and whoops he meets him at the store | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

loquaciousferret · 2 years ago

Text

Seasons

Summary: One scene for each season of the year of your relationship as you fall in love with Joel Miller, single dad and sweet southern heartthrob.

Pairing: Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ explicit smut MINORS MUST NOT INTERACT. Discussion of religion, virginity, christian!reader, virgin!reader, old-fashioned values and gender roles/views of women. marriage, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex

Word Count: 6.5k (whoops)

A/N: If you love a slowburn then this is the fic for you, filled with adorable flirting and so-sweet-he-gives-you-toothache Joel. This idea came to me so randomly but it’s been a WIP for so long so I hope you like it!!

Spring

You let out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a squeak as Joel and Tommy both picked up their cutlery ready to shovel the Sunday roast into their mouths. They hesitated at the sound and you spoke up, “I’m sorry, just, you don’t mind if I say grace, do you?”

A wide smirk spreads across Joel’s face and he raises his eyebrows at you, but puts his cutlery back down immediately. Tommy, who was frozen in place still clutching his fork which was loaded with roast chicken and gravy, received a harsh glare from Joel, leading him to put his down too.

“I’m sorry,” You said again, embarrassed that you had interrupted them.

Joel’s expression remained bemused but he responded kindly, “Hey, don’t apologise, sweetheart. You’re just always full of surprises, that’s all. Go ahead.” He gives you a reassuring smile.

You reached for Tommy’s hand with your left and Joel’s with your right and looked down towards the table, closing your eyes.

“Lord, please bless this food to our bodies and let us hold you in our hearts. We thank you for the meal and the company in which we will share it. Through christ our lord we praise you, amen.”

“Amen to that.” Tommy copied excitedly, wasting no time in getting stuck into his meal.

Joel didn’t respond to the prayer but gave you a reassuring nod, his smile still glowing. “That was lovely, darlin’.” He said, making you smile back shyly.

You got started on your own meal. You and Joel had spent the afternoon cooking together, and by together, that meant you did the cooking and he stood by and offered words of encouragement, assuring you that if he got involved he would only find some way to ruin it.

Joel’s daughter, Sarah, was out at a friend’s house all day, giving you ample time with him. He was yet to introduce you to her, given it hadn’t been long since you had met him, but you spent plenty of time with him and sometimes Tommy, too, when Sarah was otherwise occupied. Luckily for you, she was a social butterfly, and you usually got to see Joel at least one evening a week, and when you were lucky, for a full day at the weekend, like today.

It was your first Sunday with him, and it had taken quite the story to explain to your parents, grandparents, and siblings as to why you would be missing their Sunday dinner in favour of a new friend. They would most definitely be clucking like hens at their own dinner table, speculating about who might have enticed you away. In truth it had been your idea, you had been excited to do this with Joel.

You had met him in a hardware store just at the beginning of February, an old-fashioned meet-cute in which you struggled with deciphering what kind of faucet you needed to pick up for the kitchen sink in your new apartment.

“I’m sorry to bother you, sweetheart, you seem to be having some trouble there, can I lend you any knowledge?” The handsome stranger had asked politely.

His friendly demeanour as well as his expertise had led you to pick his brain in numerous aisles of the store and eventually, you bravely asked for his number. Strictly for DIY-related enquiries, of course.

But now here you were, gazing at him as he savoured the food you had cooked, and you quietly laughed along at his and his brother’s back-and-forth wit, chest bursting with affection for this gentle man whom you were growing fond of.

Summer

You fanned yourself with your magazine, sipping on a cool lemonade. Nothing was helping you to beat the suffocating Texas heat.

You watched on in amusement, perched at the edge of the lawn in Joel’s backyard as him, Tommy, and Sarah grappled with each other in a game of soccer gone wrong.

“Y’know, I don’t think soccer is supposed to be this violent.” You called out to them.

Sarah looked up at you and laughed. “These two idiots will wrestle over a game of monopoly, it doesn’t take much.”

You smiled back at her. You were so grateful at how quickly she had accepted you as Joel’s “lady friend”. You frequently caught her and Tommy wiggling their eyebrows and communicating about you and Joel behind your backs. Neither of them bought the idea that you and Joel were still just friends, but it was true.

In some ways, you had been surprised too. Joel was incredibly patient with you. Lots of guys you had dated got bored fairly quickly but Joel never rushed you and seemed happy going at your pace. You would go to dinner, take walks together, hang out with his family, but nothing more. And he respected it. As time went on, your respect for his patience grew along with your feelings for him.

Later, with Sarah in bed and Tommy having excused himself, the two of you relaxed together in the now relatively cool evening air on a wicker bench in his backyard. He nursed a beer in one hand, his other arm slung around you, and you were cuddled into his chest slightly, comfortable in his embrace.

He was pointing out constellations, but you found yourself unable to tear your eyes away from his face to look to where he was trying to guide your attention.

“Are you even listenin’ to me?” He said, smiling as he looked down at you and caught your gaze transfixed on him instead of the night sky.

You blushed and made to move away but he held you tighter into him, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You reached up to cup his jaw and looked up at him once more, connecting your lips to his. He leaned down to put his beer on the ground without breaking the kiss, the hand that was around your shoulder reaching up to become entangled in your hair, the other one holding your knee.

You continued to kiss and he deepened it gently with his tongue. At the same time, his hand drifted up your leg until it met the hem of your sundress. You jumped back as he slid his fingertips under your dress and onto your upper thigh.

“Joel, I-“

He straightened up, looking away with a heavy sigh. But when he looked back at you, he wasn’t angry. There was something else hiding in those brown eyes, you just weren’t quite sure what.

“Look, sweetheart..." He sighed. “We’ve been seeing for five months now. I just need to know, I mean…” He sighed again, he seemed to be struggling to get the words out. “I just need to know, baby. Don’t you see me like that? Don’t you want me like that?”

Your heart twinged with guilt as you met his eye again. They were filled with sadness. He thought you were rejecting him.

“Oh, Joel.” You reached out to stroke his cheek with one of your hands. “Joel, please don’t think that. I just-" You screwed your face up with embarrassment. Obviously, this moment would come. He had been so patient up to this point. You couldn’t fault him in the slightest for how respectful he was of your boundaries, never pushing you for more. And you were wracked with guilt at the thought that he had been considering this was down to him and how you felt about him.

“Oh, Joel, I- It’s.” You couldn’t help but stumble over your words. “Of course I do Joel, I do want you, more than anything, but I- I- I’m waiting, you see?”

“You’re-“ He scowled until the realisation hit and he raised his eyebrows. “Oh. You’re waiting waiting.”

“Yes.” You let out an apprehensive breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, sweetheart.” He said, putting a hand under your chin and tilting it up so you met his eye once again, his face having softened once more.

“Just means I’ll have to be the one to marry you.” There was a glint in his eye and that paralysing smirk he wore so often.

“Joel!” You scoffed, playfully hitting his chest. You wished your heart hadn’t fluttered the way it did at his joke.

Autumn Sarah skipped ahead of you excitedly, you and Joel followed, walking hand in hand down the meadow path.

You had all piled into the truck that afternoon and you had directed Joel to this location, somewhere you had visited ever since childhood to pick apples during harvest season.

“Look! I’ve found them!” Sarah was quite literally jumping with joy, pointing up at the first tree you had come across which was bearing fruit.

“Good job, honey.” Joel said as you both caught up to her.

She was hopping up but failing to reach the fruit even on the lowest boughs of the tree. Joel stepped in at that point. “Here, let me get you a leg up.” He offered.

He held out both his hands for her to stand on as a platform, grunting with exertion as he hoisted her up. She then clung to his shoulders tightly with one arm around his neck, stretching out with her other hand to reach out for the fruit.

She picked them successfully and dropped them into the basket you held out for her.

After gathering nearly a dozen, she leaped down and inspected her findings, picking out each one individually to admire them and compare their sizes.

“Have you ever had real apple pie before? Like this? With the fresh apples and everything?” You asked her.

“Nope, first time!” She responded excitedly. “I’m so hungry for it already. I hope it doesn’t take long to bake.”

“Well, it does take a while, honey. Baking is a labour of love,” You explained to her kindly as you walked back to the truck alongside each other, Joel a few paces behind. “The more time and patience you put into things, the better the end pay-off.”

Joel chuckled lightly behind you and you whipped round to look at him over your shoulder.

“What?” You laughed.

“Nothin’.” He said, smiling back at you. “Very wise life philosophy you got there, that’s all.”

You screwed your face up at him playfully. Trust Joel to turn your simple lesson into a different one entirely.

Back at Joel’s home, you taught Sarah how to soften the apples in butter, sugar, and cinnamon, filling the kitchen and most of the downstairs with that delicious combination of scents.

Next, you made the pastry by hand, patiently guiding her on how to knead the dough, and how to tell when to stop at the right consistency and not spoil it by over-kneading. She listened carefully and copied you, she was a quick learner.

Joel watched you both, filled with adoration at the scene in front of him. Your patience and kindness towards Sarah was a huge factor in how hard he was falling for you. You were only a little more than a decade older than her, but your maternal behaviours towards her seemed to come totally natural to you.

You were exactly the presence Sarah needed in her life. You were an absolute blessing for the pair of them.

He smiled and shook his head at his own thoughts. A blessing. Your way of thinking was rubbing off on him.

Sarah left to bathe and get ready for bed while you finished constructing the pie, the oven preheating. Joel continued to watch from his seat at the breakfast bar.

“You do so well with her.” He remarked.

“Oh.” You responded, slightly surprised. You had nearly forgotten he was there with how quietly he had observed the activity.

You didn’t turn to face him, not wanting him to notice the blush creeping into your cheeks.

“Thank you, Joel.” You said sincerely after having gathered your thoughts. “I’ve always loved kids. I think it just comes naturally to me.”

“Yeah?” He said, pleased with your response.

“It’s like I was born to be a mother.” You chuckled a little. It was something you had been told throughout your life. You had always enjoyed being with your aunts, helping with the babies, moreso than playing outside or doing things with your cousins and friends of your own age.

He couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. This happened all the time, you took the thoughts right out of his head and spoke them into reality. You were perfect for him in every sense, he had known this for a while now but you strengthened his belief in the fact every single day. Joel knew he was madly in love with you, a deep connection he had never felt towards anyone else. And he had your morals to thank. The lack of physical relationship meant that you had spent months building on a genuine friendship and emotional connection, one that stood on its own without the need for sexual attraction. Not that he didn’t have that for you in spades.

All his previous relationships had been built on something physical, an initial attraction that was acted on and developed into more. Not you. His fondness of you was not based on that. That’s not to say he didn’t constantly want more as you kissed him, not that he didn’t think of you in his intimate moments, or sometimes needed to excuse himself when he got a glimpse of your upper thighs or even a panty line under your sundress if you reached up on tiptoe to grab something or climbed up the steps ahead of him. You had him like a touch-starved schoolboy, every single glimpse of your flesh was like a jolt of electricity inside him.

It had been nearly 8 months since you met and you had changed his and Sarah’s lives already, bringing laughter and sunshine back into their home. He had even met your family, too, at a barbecue towards the end of summer. He had had to hold in a laugh at their old-fashioned ways when they referred to him as the man you were 'courting'. But they accepted him, approved of him despite him being 10 years your senior, a divorced single dad. They didn’t judge him and they could see how happy you made each other.

The other day, he had lied about needing to head to the store and you stayed and watched Sarah. It had been a relief when he had went to your father’s house, and he had said yes so quickly to Joel’s request for your hand in marriage.

Winter

Austin saw it’s first measurable snowfall in a couple of years. You three, Tommy, and the new dog you and Sarah had convinced Joel to adopt for Christmas, were out walking near a cabin you had rented together for some of the holidays.

You all had red cheeks and your breaths were visible, coming out as mist in the cold air. It was the one of the coldest winters in a while, with the temperature barely hitting the 40s each day.

When you got back to the cabin, you, Sarah, and Tommy fought over who would get to shower first for warmth. You ended up placing second in the queue, behind her and before him, which you were satisfied with. There were 3 bedrooms but only one bathroom in the cabin, leading to almost daily arguments between the brothers and Sarah, most of which you simply observed in amusement.

“Come ‘ere.” Joel said, beckoning you to join him in the lounge. “Fire’s just gettin’ started. I’ll keep you warm until it’s your turn.”

You smiled and joined him, shedding a few layers of clothing to dry off and warm up by the fire.

He rubbed your arms and legs roughly, generating heat from the friction. It tickled and you pushed him away. He lost his balance and fell backwards.

“You tryna kill me?” He laughs. “There’s a fire behind me.”

You smiled at him. He was mesmerised by you, with your rosy cheeks and your eyes illuminated, reflecting the flickering of the log fire.

He had wanted to wait for the perfect moment, and propose to you like a scene out of those terrible romance movies you love so much. But it was times like this that moved his heart, the simple every day moments you shared that reminded him why he was so madly in love with you.

And so he couldn’t help himself, he shifted so he was on one knee between your legs.

“What are you doin’?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing in curiosity.

“Quiet, alright, let me focus.” There was nothing impatient in how he responded, if anything, he only sounded nervous. That intrigued you more.

You smile at him and he loses all train of thought again taking in your expression.

“Sweetheart.” He starts, his voice cracking slightly. You had rarely seen Joel nervous or flustered but this had to be it. “I wanted to make this more special but I… I can’t wait any longer.”

You have to physically stop your jaw dropping in shock as Joel pulls a small box out of the pocket of his large winter jacket, his hands trembling slightly. Your heart races as you realise what is happening.

“Sweetheart, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I ask myself every day what I did to deserve you to come into me and Sarah’s life. You make me so happy every single day. I- I know we’ve not been together long but I know already I can’t see a future without you by my side. I- We- We want you to join our family. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

Tears well in your eyes as you look down at Joel, waiting nervously for your answer. You had only been together 9 months but he was everything you had dreamed in a partner, kind, caring, supportive, always making you laugh. He was the most important person in your life despite the short time you had shared.

“Yes, Joel.” Your voice was barely a whisper.

He exhaled deeply in relief.

“Yes, I want nothing more than to marry you.”

He pulled you into a tight embrace and you laughed, pushing him away, “Aren’t you gonna put that on my finger first?”

He pulled back, blushing, taking your outstretched hand and sliding the elegant ring onto your finger. “Yes, darlin’ I’m sorry- I-“ He cut himself off, pulling you close to him and pressing a kiss to your head.

This was the happiest moment of your life.

Neither of you knew Tommy was in the hallway and had listened to the whole thing. “Finally.” He muttered with a wide smile on his face.

Spring

You married exactly a year to the day that you met (Joel’s idea) in your parish church with your close friends and family watching. Your sister, your childhood best friend, and of course Sarah made up your bridesmaids. Tommy was Joel’s best man.

You wore a simple white dress with a lace bodice and sleeves, complimenting your figure, cinching at the waist and stretching around your hips.

The wedding was simple, as was the dinner and reception. Flashy wasn’t you and Joel’s style.

As the night wore on and the guests mingled, you finally felt yourself relax. You weren’t a big drinker but today was your wedding day and you had been constantly plied with champagne by your friends and family.

“Hey Mrs Miller!” Tommy approached you from the side. “Will you give me a dance?”

You look to Joel, who squeezed your hand and smiled. “Off you go.” He said.

You laughed and took Tommy’s outstretched hand as he led you to the dance floor. The music was relatively upbeat and he was twirling you, you giggled, trying not to trip up on your dress or your heels.

“I would say welcome to the family, but it feels like you became an important part of it a long time ago.” He says when the music calms down and he takes you closer to him for a slower dance. “Joel is one lucky man, and I’m lucky to have you for a sister-in-law now too.”

You didn’t respond, taking in his sincere words. You were absolutely grateful for the extended family Joel had brought into your life. And Tommy was right, they had welcomed you with open arms and made you feel like you belonged from the very beginning.

“He’s never been happier. Sarah too. Thank you for that.” He goes on.

“They’re everything to me.” You say simply.

He nods in understanding. As the song draws to a close he pulls you in for a tight hug.

“Congratulations, sweetheart.”

“No getting rid of me now.” You say back cheekily, and he laughs as he guides you back to where Joel is mingling with guests.

Joel sees the two of you approaching and smiles warmly, reaching out to pull you close to him and planting a quick kiss on your cheek.

“Having fun, Mrs Miller?” He says, his eyes twinkling. He hasn’t called you by your name all day. He likes this new one.

“Certainly. Tommy’s keeping me entertained.”

“Yeah he’s good at that, ain’t he?” Joel teases, raising an eyebrow at his brother.

Tommy holds his hands up in defence, “Hey! That’s your wife.”

“Damn right it is.” He responds, squeezing your hip. You blush as he holds you close to him. He is always affectionate, but today you have felt more loved and cherished than any day of your life.

You catch Sarah’s eye. She is watching you fondly from a nearby table where she sits with a small group of her friends and some of your cousins who are about her age.

You smile warmly and offer her a thumbs up. She smiles back. You are grateful for the bond you have with her and the support you have both shown each other throughout your relationship with Joel.

The rest of the night passes in a blur of happiness, laughter, and love. More champagne is consumed, and some cake. Sarah was involved in baking it for you with help from a professional. As the night draws to a close, you begin to feel nervous, knowing what is to come when you and Joel retire to your honeymoon suite shortly.

“I can’t believe we’re married.” He whispers into your hair.

“Me too. But it feels like everything I ever imagined.”

Joel nodded, rubbing circles into your back with his large palm. “More than I ever imagined.” He responds.

He kept you in a tight embrace. You can hardly believe that a year ago you didn’t know this wonderful man existed, and now you are a married couple. He pulls back from you, a tender expression on his features. “Are you ready to go to bed?”

You know this question is loaded with the implication of another. Although you feel nerves rising in your chest, there’s another part of you that is thrilled and excited to experience this entirely new element of your relationship with Joel.

You nod, and he doesn’t hesitate to take your hand and lead you out of the hall. Many guests have left and you bid farewell to the others on the way out.

He leads you hand in hand to your hotel suite. The room is dimly lit, with soft music playing. There is another bottle of champagne on the dressing table- not that you need any more.

You turn to Joel, feeling nervous, which he can sense easily. He approaches you carefully, removing his suit jacket and tossing it over an armchair in the corner, loosening his tie and removing the top button of his shirt.

He looks so incredibly handsome and you think that it is intensified by the knowledge that you are looking at your husband.

He cups your face in his hands, “I love you, sweetheart. I’m so glad you’re my wife.”

He leans in and kisses you. It leaves you breathless and exhilarated, knowing that for the first time, this kiss will lead to more. Your body melts into his, you wrap your hands around his neck and lose yourself in the moment, his warmth and his rich scent enveloping you and making you feel safe and comfortable.

He pulls away eventually and rests his hands on your hips. “I know we’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time- Well, I certainly have.” His voice is laced with emotion. “But we don’t have to rush anything. We’ll take it slow, enjoy every moment of getting to know each other like this.”

You nod, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. You were nervous about messing things up or disappointing Joel, but he was patient and understanding as always.

“Thank you.” Your voice comes out as barely a whisper.

Joel leans in for another kiss and you melt into his embrace once again. He restrains his lust and passion and tries to make every touch a demonstration of his love and commitment to you.

He begins to unlace the delicate back of your dress and pulls it from your shoulders. Your neck is exposed, then your collarbones, then your chest, clad in your special bridal lingerie.

He lets out a sigh as he takes in the sight of you. He had seen your body before, at the beach, but now when he looked at you it was accompanied by an entirely different feeling. You were going to be his for the rest of your lives, all of you, all of this, was his. Forever. It was nearly overwhelming.

He leans down, pressing a trail of soft open-mouthed kisses to your neck and down your exposed chest. He continues to pull down your dress gently as he goes, until it has slipped off of you entirely. He retreats to carefully lay it out on the sofa in the corner. He approaches the bed again and begins to remove his own clothing, unbuttoning his shirt painstakingly slowly as you watched him in anticipation. You take him in, admiring the way his muscles ripple as he moves, his honey skin, and the dark hair scattered over his stomach and chest. He was the image of beauty to you. His eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you feel as though you were the only woman in the world, the only one he had ever wanted.

He steps towards you and climbs onto the bed, holding himself up with one strong forearm and kissing you. The feeling of his bare skin against yours sent waves of desire through your body.

His hands explored you, softly roaming over every curve and contour of your figure, giving every inch of you attention with his lips or hands. As he does so, you feel your body responding to his touch. Your skin grows more and more sensitive to his every movement. You moan softly as his hands glide over the thin fabric of your bra, your nipples hardening in reaction to his teasingly light touch.

He whispers in your ear, a low and husky tone to his voice that you haven’t heard before, “I want you, I want to make you mine forever.”

You shiver at his words, a rush of desire shooting through you. You pull him tighter to you in an embrace and you feel the hard length of him pressing into your stomach. It adds to your excitement.

He kisses you once more on the lips, his tongue exploring your mouth. You taste whiskey and wedding cake frosting. A combination of strong and sweet, like Joel. Then he lifts your back from the bed slightly, his attention on your bra clasp which he removes with practiced ease and tosses it aside. He leans down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and licking and sucking gently. You gasp at the sensation and feel yourself clenching your thighs involuntarily, desire coursing through you.

He moves down your body, one hand continues to touch your breasts and he trails kisses down your stomach. When he reaches the waistband of your panties, he looks up at you, questioningly. You nod at him, nervousness and excitement fighting for priority in your body and mind.

He pulls them off slowly, savouring the moment. You feel exposed and vulnerable, but the sight of his hungry gaze as he takes in your naked form turns you on.

You feel his hard length pressing into you again and you are silently grateful that he keeps his promise, taking you through this slowly, even though you know he wants you desperately.

“You trust me, darlin’?” He says, breathlessly.

“Yes, Joel.” You respond, anticipating what might be coming.

“Let me take care of you, alright?” He says, his fingers massaging at your inner thighs.

You just nod, and with that he slides his hands higher and his fingers enter your folds, which are already wet with your want for him. You gasp at the sensation, shocked at how his large rough hands are even capable of such gentle touches.

He rubs at you softly, circular motions around your clit snd then down to your hole, barely dipping in a fingertip before withdrawing it again and dragging wetness back up to your clit. You adjust to the sensation quickly and crave more, to intensify the feeling he is giving you.

You buck your hips upwards, letting your thoughts be known to him. He laughs lightly. “Be patient.”

You whine.

He inserts a finger all the way inside you and you gasp at the feeling. Of course you have done this alone but the feeling of his large masculine hands with long, thick, fingers, is a new sensation entirely.

He moves it inside you, slowly, his other hand holding you at your hip. His touches are gentle and restrained yet firm and deliberate. Small moans of pleasure escape you.

His finger then curls inside of you and hits a spot that makes you arch in pleasure, moaning more loudly. Your hands reach out to grab him by the shoulders. He grins and curls his finger again, pressing against that spot faster and with more intensity. You feel your body start to tighten, your limbs tensing up instinctively. The pleasure builds inside of you until it is almost too much to bear.

Just when you think you couldn’t take it anymore, he removes the finger. It is trailed by a large amount of your wetness. He does something unexpected then, bringing it up to his mouth and sucking on it. The sight feels inappropriate and you look away from him, blushing.

He takes the finger, now wet with saliva and inserts it inside you again, this time accompanied by another. The stretch is numbed by the pleasure he gives you. He pumps them in and out of you slowly, curling and scissoring inside of you. He plays a game of attempting to elicit the sweetest sounds from you.

He brings his thumb to your clit simultaneously and gently rubs it. It makes you bite your lip to stop you from crying out.

“Let it out, sweetheart.” He instructs. “Don’t hold back from me.”

“Joell-“ You whine. “Ah!”

Your volume encourages him and he continues, a steady rhythmic pace applied to both the fingers working you from the inside and the one giving attention to your clit.

You feel the same knot of pleasure from before building.

You find confidence and become more vocal, “Please don’t stop Joel!” You plead.

“Are you gonna come, baby?” He asks in a deep tone.

“I think so.” You squeak. “Fee- Feels so good J-Joel, plea-“ You cut yourself off with a moan.

Heat gathers in every corner of your body and as Joel maintains his consistent pace, you reach closer and closer to a release of this tension inside you.

Finally it snaps, and you cry out. The pleasure is overwhelming, your heart races and you pant, breathless, as the feeling courses through every inch of you. You feel yourself collapse further into the bed, weakened by the experience.

He removes his fingers from inside you but keeps gently rubbing your clit as you twitch and shiver underneath him. Eventually he stops that too, and kisses you deeply. You come back down from your high slowly.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, barely pulling away from you. His lips tickle yours as he speaks.

You feel a rush of affection towards him, still dazed from your orgasm. Your already flushed cheeks seem to grow even more warm under the weight of his intense gaze and his compliments. As you catch your breath, he continues to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, words of adoration spilling from his whiskey-loosened tongue.

“My girl forever aren’t you?” He whispers. You nod, keening towards his touch as he brings his hand to your core once again, the sensitivity of your orgasm finally worn off.

“My beautiful girl.”

You think he is talking to himself more so than you.

He shifts his weight, lowering himself further down the bed and positioning himself between your legs. You watch him, unsure what he is going to do next. He parts your thighs widely and lowers himself between them. He kisses and licks at your inner thighs, his hot breathe on your skin piques your arousal.

His mouth moves higher and higher, until his tongue licks a wide stripe through your folds. You immediately gasp.

He continues licking and sucking, his stubble grazing at your inner thighs, a sensation that burns, but not unpleasantly. He is bringing the peak of your pleasure quickly, and you feel the hot tension gathering within you. Your hands reach down to tangle in his curls, which are slightly dishevelled from the busy day. You tug on his hair lightly and he groans against your pussy, a sensation that sends shivers through you.

He continues to work you with his mouth, sucking at your clit and then moving all the way down to penetrate your entrance with his tongue, then dragging it back up and starting again. It is messy and raw and more intensely pleasurable than you could have ever imagined. Your wave of pleasure is about to crash down, and you cry out in warning.

“Joel I’m going to- Ah!” He doesn’t let you finish your sentence, cutting you off into a moan as he increases the pressure of the suction on your clit, alternating with flicking his tongue against it rapidly, pushing you over the edge.

You cry out his name and unravel beneath him, your body shaking with an orgasm far more intense than the first. He continues to lick and suck gently, tasting all of your juices. Not quite taking you into overstimulation, just easing you through as the waves of pleasure subside before pulling away. He slowly makes his way back up your body. When he reaches your lips, he kisses you deeply, and his tongue tastes of your essence.

“I love you.” He whispers against your lips. “You’re perfect.”

Finally, he straightens up, pulling away and removing his boxers. Your eyes widen as you take in the size of his erection.

He notices your reaction. “This ok, darlin’?” He asks calmly.

You nod, still nervous, which he can see from how you bite your lip. He crawls back onto the bed and positions himself between your legs.

“I’ll go as slow as I can baby, if it hurts you tell me, ok?”

You nod.

“Say it, sweetheart.”

“I’ll tell you Joel, I promise.”

“Good.” He says.

He leans down and captures your lips in a kiss. One hand holds him up, the other is guiding his hard length to your entrance. You take a deep breath, trying to relax, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. He slowly begins to push himself into you. You both gasp at that first sensation.

You feel a painful stretch, but it quickly fades as he stops with just the tip inserted in you, giving you time to adjust. He plants kisses all over your face and whispers words of praise and reassurance as he continues to edge into you again.

Finally, he is fully inside of you, and he stops, looking down at you with a caring expression. “This OK, sweetheart?” He asks softly, stroking your hair with his free hand.

You nod.

He begins to move slowly, in and out in a gentle rhythm. You moan softly every time he is fully deep inside you, hitting pleasure spots inside your walls. As time goes on he picks up the pace gradually and thrusts slightly harder, analysing every sound and expression of yours to ensure you remain comfortable.

You feel an urge to wrap your legs around his waist, wanting to feel him even deeper. He grunts in pleasure as you do so. Your connection to him is intense and overwhelming, physically full of him and giving yourself to him in every way.

Next he brings a hand to your clit and his thumb rubs at it gently like before. You feel that this makes your pussy clench around him. He grunts every time it does so.

“Oh, Joel.” You gasp.

He takes your gasp as a cue to increase the pace, and soon he is pounding into you with a steady, rhythmic force. You feel that knot of pleasure building in your core, and you know you won't be able to hold back a release much longer.

Joel's movements become more urgent, and his hand on your clit works faster. Your moans and gasps grow louder, and you feel like you're about to come apart at the seams.

"Come for me, baby," Joel growls, his breath hot against your neck. "I want to feel you come around me."

His words are all you need, and with a cry, you fall over the edge. Waves of pleasure crash over you, and you clench around him tightly as you ride out your orgasm.

As you come down from your high, Joel’s pace is faltering, and with a grunt of your name, you feel him tense up and a hot release spills into you. He collapses a little on top of you and you can’t help but laugh as he knocks the air out of your lungs, crushing you, his body shaking with exertion. He slides his hands under you and squeezes you into him.

You both lay there in silence, trying to catch your breath and ground yourselves from the pleasure you had both experienced. The gentle music continues to play in the background and other than that the only sounds that can be heard are the rise and fall of your breath and an occasional contented sigh from Joel.

Eventually he pulls out from inside you and rolls off of you, pulling you close to his side. You snuggle into his chest, feeling safe and loved in his embrace.

“Was I as good as you imagined? Didn't let you down?” He teases gently.

“Even better than I could have imagined.” You admit. “Can we do it again?” You say.

He laughs and kisses your head. “Of course, Mrs Miller. As much as you like.” He says, running his hand through your hair.

You both lay there, enjoying the peaceful afterglow of your lovemaking. You drift to sleep, ready to wake up for the first day of the rest of your life as Joel’s wife.

Read more pre-outbreak Joel smut in Country Lovin’

Find my entire masterlist of Pedro Pascal characters here

Pedro Taglist @tightjeansjavi @lovers-liability @cutesyscreenname @serenaxpedro @hrtsforpascal @queerponcho @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @kdogreads @drewharrisonwriter @therealmabelpinez

Story Taglist @carlyreneeinthemoon @anat2507 @soph55 @annagraceevanss @vanillen @hummusxx @still-wanna-be-corrupted @prettyangelsthings @luvtheoldmen @theelishad @afterglowsb-tch13 @moonlightdivine @dilfsaremyfavourite @midgetpottermills @skysmiller @gaypoetsblog @jadeees-posts @rosey1981 @alyhull @decaffeinatedweirdo @prwttp @hesjustken @luamarieta

Thank you for reading! Let me know if you would like to be on a Joel taglist, or permanent Pedro taglist <3

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller one shot #tlou fanfic #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x f!reader smut

3K notes · View notes

corrodedbisexual · 7 months ago

Text

Modern-ish Steddie AU where they meet in jail.

Steve shouldn't even be here; he got arrested for shoplifting, but it was all a misunderstanding. He was actually trying to prevent a shoplifting when he saw a couple of kids stuffing chocolate bars into their jacket pockets. They bolted, and he chased after them; unfortunately, he was still holding a bottle of (rather expensive) wine in hand as he did that, so he ended up the perceived cause of the blaring store alarm while the two shitheads escaped with zero consequences.

The store's got security cameras. So it will probably be fine, right? It will all be resolved soon enough. Steve just has to wait.

What makes him more nervous is the guy he's sharing the cell with.

Wild curly hair, tattoos all over his exposed arms and one peeking out of the collar of his shirt, the man wears orange like he was born in it. He seems to be about Steve's age, in his early 20s, but it's hard to tell. When Steve's brought in, he's lounging carelessly on his bed, trying to fold a piece of toilet paper into what looks like a crane.

The guy looks dangerous; who knows what could provoke him. Steve just settles quietly into the corner of his own bed at the opposite wall, drawing his knees up to his chin and trying to keep his head down. Literally.

Except every time he glances up, the man's rather intense stare is on him. Five minutes into this awkward silence, Steve can't handle it anymore, so he clears his throat and speaks up, still choosing to look at the floor.

"So, uh... what are you in for?"

He cringes immediately. It's probably the worst possible question to ask, and one most likely to get you a punch in the face. But when Steve looks up, he finds his cellmate fully grinning, now busying himself with tearing the toilet paper into little bits.

"Oh, just a bit of murder," he answers casually. "Our lord Satan requires sacrifice, you know."

Steve's almost convinced the guy's fucking with him (because surely, murder suspects are placed in separate cells from the minor offense folk, right?) but he's still a little terrified.

The guy (Eddie, Steve finally learns the name, although that might not be a real one) keeps talking, throwing balls of paper into the toilet by the wall. He keeps missing; there's little bits of white all over the floor already.

He says he's been to prison twice. Grand theft auto and arson. Escaped both times, apparently. He's planning an escape right now, too. Goes on, with a manic grin and wild gestures, about how one of the guards is actually a member of his cult, has got him covered.

It all has to be bullshit. It has to be. Steve doesn't dare comment on it, because at the small chance that it's actually true, he's fucked if he pisses this guy off.

A single paper ball finally lands inside the toilet, and Eddie whoops so loudly that Steve almost jumps.

"Aaaand the crowds cheer, boys'n'girls all going wild screaming his name!" Eddie yells, rapidly drumming his palms on his thighs. "It's the rising star of the new hot game of pottyball, it's Eddieee Munsooon!"

Yeah, so whatever the man was or wasn't lying about, Steve's not about to engage. Eddie's clearly all kinds of insane, he thinks, watching out of the corner of his eye as the guy, seemingly over his silly little game, starts wrapping the toilet paper around his head like a turban.

Except five minutes later, Eddie apparently decides that Steve's much better entertainment than toilet paper. He rolls off the bed and strolls across the tiny cell, stopping right in front of Steve, who in turn is doing his best to become one with the concrete wall behind him. With a shit-eating grin, Eddie strikes a pose, hip jutted out and one hand trying to keep the unsteady headgear in place.

"D'you think I look like a beautiful prince, Stevie?" He asks, batting his eyelashes. (Oh god, why did Steve tell him his real name, what was he thinking.) "Would you go on a magic carpet ride with me?"

Steve can't help it. He bursts out laughing. It almost sounds like Eddie's trying to flirt with him, except Steve stands by his insane conviction, because who the fuck flirts like that?!

The laughter doesn't seem to deter Eddie. He's grinning even wider now, and then he plants both hands on the bed on each side of Steve and leans in, tilting his head.

"Well aren't you pretty when you smile, princess."

Cold sweat runs down the back of Steve's neck as a sudden implication of what might be happening here hits him. He's only heard about it from like, movies and stuff, but does this actually happen? Oh shit. Is Steve gonna become this guy's prison bitch? Jail bitch, technically?

What's worse, a tiny voice in Steve's head suggests that maybe it's not so bad, actually. Eddie's a lunatic, but at least he's hot. (Really hot, if Steve's honest with himself.) And terrifying, so nobody would mess with Steve so long as he's Eddie's... whatever.

Thankfully, Steve's saved from further contemplating his hypothetical future prison life by a key rattling in the cell's lock; Eddie immediately leans back and jumps across the room, so by the time Chief Hopper steps through the door, he's already sitting cross-legged on his bed, hands folded in his lap, a picture of pure innocence.

Hopper turns to Steve first, something apologetic in his voice as he says, "We viewed the security camera footage, you're free to go, Harrington."

With a relieved huff, Steve scrambles to get up. Meanwhile, Hopper turns his attention to Eddie, regards the half-fallen-apart ridiculousness on his head, rolls his eyes and heaves a tired-sounding sigh.

"You too, Munson. Next time someone dares you to streak through a public space, just pick truth instead, would ya?"

Ten minutes later, they both walk outside in their street clothes. Well, Steve's in his street clothes; Eddie's only garment is a thin grey medical blanket Hopper's helpfully provided him with. Eddie's wrapped it around himself like a toga.

"So..." Steve turns to him and smirks. "How much exactly of what you said in there was total bullshit?"

Eddie cackles at the question. "I'd say about... ninety percent. I clearly am a rising star of pottyball, you know." He waits a beat for Steve to laugh, then adds, "And you do have a very pretty smile."

Steve bites his lip, feeling heat in his cheeks at the compliment. In the light of day, outside the cell, it's like he sees Eddie for the first time, in his silly blanket toga, squinting at the bright sunlight. And he feels ridiculous about ever thinking this man could be dangerous. Insane? Probably. Full of shit? Oh, definitely. Hot? Yes, very much. Dangerous though? Laughable.

And so, Steve finds himself asking, "Wanna get coffee and tell me something real about yourself?"

Eddie looks surprised by the offer, his smile turning a little bashful, and he hides behind a lock of hair before looking down at himself and chuckling.

"I'm probably gonna need some clothes first."

"Nah," Steve teases, briefly checking him out. "You're rocking this outfit."

"And you're absolutely right, I am, but unfortunately this thing is about five seconds from falling apart," Eddie pointedly fixes the half-loosened knot on his shoulder. "And something tells me Hopper won't be so lenient about repeated public indecency."

Steve giggles and finally takes pity on the guy. "Okay, my car's parked, like, two blocks from here. I have some clean gym clothes you can borrow."

"Lead the way, pretty boy," Eddie grins and follows him with a goofy little twirl.

Divider credit

#steddie #steddie fic #this is very silly #misha-bawlins fanfic

458 notes · View notes

softspiderling · 10 months ago

Text

think you're a genius (you drive me up the wall) | r.c.

summary: it wouldn't be an outer banks party if there wasn't at least one fist fight. also, rafe is trying to turn over a new leaf.

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

word count: 3,8k

warning: mention of blood, violence (reader gets punched in the face, but there are no graphic details), shitty topper (sorry top)

author's note: long awaited (at least by me) rafe fic, whoop whoop!!! no usage of Y/N, happy reading, don't forget to reblog!!! also tagging @sunderlust bc i borrowed some of our conversation in this fic😘love you sol

☆⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

“Since when do you drink beer?”

Barely pausing at the words, you continued to stack cold beer cans in your arms, the condensation dripping onto your skin. You didn’t have to turn around to know who the voice belonged to, having heard it so many times. And this was his house after all.

“Wasn’t aware you kept track of my drink of choice,” you retorted, turning around to face him, while simultaneously trying to balance the cans.

Rafe raised an eyebrow at you before his gaze lowered to the beer in your arms. “… You trying to tell me that all that beer’s for you?”

“You calling me a lightweight?”

The corner of Rafe’s mouth ticked up and he took a sip from his drink, the ice clinking in the glass.

“I think we both know I’m not.”

If someone had told you that one day you’d be standing in the parlor of Tannyhill, having a mostly civil conversation with Rafe you’d have them institutionalized. But things have changed. When Sarah returned with the news that Ward has died protecting Sarah, Rafe imploded at first. Blaming her for his death, the downfall of their family and generally being ungrateful for Ward’s love for her.

Everyone avoided the Cameron estate for a while, hearing stuff crash and yells from a mile away. No one dared to step close. A few days after, the disturbances stopped, being replaced with complete silence.

It was so silent, you actually grew concerned until Rafe turned up at Heyward’s setting up a weekly grocery delivery. Pope had dumped the stuff he was holding as soon as Rafe had stepped into the store, storming outside, with Cleo hot on his heels, leaving you to set up the standing order.

“Can you tell Sarah I’m sorry?”

“What?”

You looked up from the register and Rafe clenched his jaw, giving you a look.

“You really gon’ make me say it again?”

“How about you call her yourself instead of making me deliver your message like a post boy?”

Rafe exhaled deeply, knitting his eyebrows together like he was really trying not to explode and honestly, you had to respect him for that. You know how impatient he could be.

“I tried, okay? Don’t you think I’ve tried? I’ve tried to call her, she’s not picking up. Fuck, I don’t even know if she still has the same phone number,” he said, like the words physically pained him. “I don’t even know where she’s staying. Is it at John B’s new place?”

Somewhere between his words, Rafe had started pacing up and down the stairs, making you antsy.

“Hey,” you said, coming around to slowly, carefully - like you were trying to pet a stray cat - curl your hand around his wrist. Rafe immediately stopped, eyeing his wrist where you were touching him.

“Sorry, I’ll take my hand off,” you quickly said, but before you could, Rafe stopped you.

“’s fine,” he muttered, meeting your eyes for a second before looking away again. “Physical touch grounds me… Y’know… When my thoughts get too… Much.”

You swallowed thickly, nodding at him and staying in place, for god knew how long, until Rafe had seemed to calm down.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

You drew your hand back, crossing your arms over your chest and leaned against the counter to put some distance between you and him, wildly overwhelmed with this situation. Rafe didn’t seem like he knew what to do either, turning his ring on his finger, his eyes cast on the floor.

“If you really want to apologize to Sarah,” you started, making him look up. “Maybe I can talk to her. Ask her if she’s willing to meet up with you.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow at you, clearly surprised. “You’d do that for me?”

“Don’t let it get to your head. I’m mostly doing it for Sarah,” you scoffed and Rafe only smirked, shaking his head.

“Sure, tough girl. Gonna ring me up now or what?”

Rolling your eyes at him, you returned to the cash register, finishing up his order. You still felt his eyes on you as you worked away.

“Thanks,” he finally said, and you lifted your head, briefly meeting his eyes.

“Don’t mention it.”

And he never did.

Miraculously, you had managed to get Sarah to agree to talk to Rafe and while you had accompanied her to the beach, where she had met up with Rafe, you stayed behind to give them privacy. You weren’t sure what they had talked about, but you didn’t press her about it either when she came stomping back to you with tearstained cheeks. Whatever they have talked about must have helped though, because even though Sarah still stayed with John B of the the times, she went home every odd night, returning with sandwiches and drinks the next day like a soccer mom. It went unsaid that Rafe had provided her with everything and Sarah avoided talking about him, mostly because Pope still got that distant look in his eyes whenever she mentioned her brother. Which is why you were surprised that he was the first one to agree to go to a party Rafe had invited Sarah to, forwarding the invite to her friends.

“What?” Pope had said everyone gave him an odd look. “He stole a family heirloom of mine. The least he can do is invite us to a party of his.”

“Okay then,” JJ jeered, beating on Pope’s back with his opens palms. “Let’s go to a Kook party.”

You had to admit that it was nice to see that the two tribes of the island coming together. The fact that Pogues were invited to a party on Figure 8 was huge. Granted, it was just you and your friends, but still. It was a start.

Loud cheering from outside brought you out of your thoughts, you and Rafe both looking towards the dimly lit backyard, where the main attraction of the party took place.

“JJ and John B are destroying a group of Kooks at Rage Cage right now,” you then explained, lifting the beer in your arms. “Hence... You know.”

“Right right, I was starting the wonder what all that yelling was about,” Rafe mused.

“So how come you’re not out there?”

Rafe shrugged. “Needed some quiet.”

“What, you having your private party in here?” you teased and Rafe smirked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Why? You jealous?”

You rolled your eyes, shifting the beer cans in your arms, the weight slowly getting to you.

“In your dreams, Rafe,” you scoffed. “I got to go, get these beers to the boys before they’ll get warm. You should come down, when you’re done brooding and shit.”

Throwing your last words over your shoulder, you returned to your friends, being welcomed with loud cheers as the empty cups get filled rather quickly. You dropped down into your empty chair, taking your drink from Kiara who had been holding onto it during your absence.

“Pope was about to send a search party because you were taking so long,” she said and you gave Pope a look over the brim of your cup.

“You’re such a mother hen. I was talking to Rafe.”

“Why the hell were you talking to Rafe?”

“You talked to Rafe?”

“Jesus, guys relax,” you groaned, leaning your head back. “He’s fine. He didn’t even do anything. We just talked.”

“It’s never just anything with Rafe,” Pope muttered.

“I get that,” Sarah started, rolling her empty cup in her hand. “But he’s different.Like… He regrets a lot of the thing’s he’s done and trying really hard to make up for his mistakes,” she paused, pressing her lips together tightly. “I’d be the last person to defend him, but I feel like he’s trying to turn over a new leaf.”

Before Pope was able to list all of the bad things that Rafe has done in the past, your conversation was interrupted, angry yells ringing over the music.

“So now you’re just all buddy buddy hanging out here, huh?”

The new voice wasn’t really new and everyone looked at Sarah, who paled, slowly pushing herself up from her chair, looking towards the disturbance, the rest of the group following her.

“Shit. What the hell is Topper doing here?”

The sudden intrusion of a rather inebriated Topper had immediately tanked the relaxed and laid back atmosphere; suddenly, everyone was tense, not daring to make a move in fear of making the wrong one.

“What? Aren’t we here to party?” Topper cajoled, waving a half empty bottle of whiskey around. “Let’s get rid of these Pogues and party!”

The rest of the Kooks looked between themselves, not really wanting to follow Topper’s request but also not wanting to defend your friends. Even if they just had fun together, the Kooks wouldn't go as far as openly defend Pogues, you knew that.

“You should leave, Topper,” John B said, his hands curling at his sides, which was fair, honestly. Even though you had rebuilt the Chateau, bigger, better and most importantly more fire resistant, Topper burnt down John B’s home. His safe space. Topper only widened his eyes at John B comically, snorting.

“Who are you to tell me to leave?”

Sarah pushed herself to the front, pressing herself to John B’s side, which was probably not the smartest thing she could have done, as it only aggravated Topper even more to see her next to John B. You and the others stood right behind her, ready to step in as soon as it escalated.

“Leave, Topper,” Sarah snapped at him. “Nobody invited you.”

“Yeah, as far as I know, you don’t even live here anymore, Sarah,” Topper said, spitting out her name like it was venom in his mouth.

“I didn’t invite you.”

You hadn’t even noticed Rafe having joined you, not really standing on your side, but not on Topper's side either. Suddenly, the tension had grown even thicker and by now, you realized this could go wrong in about a 100 ways.

Topper stared at his friend, mouth agape, before he collected himself, pulling a face.

“Seriously, Rafe? Weren’t you the one who told me that I’m better off without your bitch of a sister and now you’re taking her side?”

“Watch it, Top,” Rafe only said, not even moving an inch.

Not that he had to. Everyone knew what Rafe was capable of, if he was angry enough. Topper only narrowed his eyes at his friend, weighing his options.

“Topper, just go,” Sarah yelled, walking towards him for good measure, trying to offer some sort of olive branch, but Topper only pushed Sarah roughly, causing her to stumble to the ground.

“Jesus, fuck, Topper,” you snapped, rushing to get Sarah back on her feet again, making the fatal mistake of getting between him and John B, as you received a sickening punch to the side of your face.

“Fuck!”

“Holy shit, Topper are you insane?”

You had toppled over your feet to the grass, not having expected the punch at all. Disoriented, you touched your throbbing cheek, your fingers stained red when you looked at them.

“Fuck,” you moaned, feeling like you were about to pass out. Your friends quickly crowded around you, helping you up.

“Shit, girl, you alright?” Cleo asked, carefully pushing your hair to the side to assess the damage.

“Is Sarah okay?” you only asked, pausing to spit out some blood, leaning on Cleo, your legs still shaking.

“Dude, I’m fine!” Sarah said, wrapping an arm around you, still shaking herself.

Your vision was still dizzy, and the voices were not helping, but it seemed like most of the party goers had dissipated as the argument had started. As your eyes adjusted, you could just see Rafe holding Topper by the collar of his shirt and saying something you couldn’t quite understand, before he tossed his friend on the ground. Topper didn’t take long to get back to his feet, fleeing from the scene.

Rafe turned around, his eyes scanning over you before turning to Sarah.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just a bruise,” Sarah said, her eyes fixated on you. “But you should definitely get checked out. I can't believe Topper punched you."

“Come on, I got a first aid kit upstairs and some ice for the swelling.”

Rafe reached out to grab you under the arms, but Cleo was reluctant to let you go.

“Maybe I should help.”

“Seriously?” Rafe asked, incredulously and you only watched with narrowed eyes, your reaction time still limited.

“We should just take her home,” Pope chimed in, grabbing you by the shoulder gently, jostling you around.

“Guys, I’m gonna be sick if you keep handing me around like a joint,” you groaned, shutting your eyes, in the hopes of making the dizziness better.

“Pope, it’s fine. Rafe’s not going to hurt her. And he knows a thing or two about patching up wounds,” Sarah said, Pope’s grip on you loosening.

“Fine. But you even look at our girl funny, and you got another thing coming, you hear me, Rafe?”

“Yeah yeah, I got it,” Rafe grunted.

You peeked an eye open, when your friends let go of you, Rafe looping his arm around your shoulder, pausing to look at John B. “You got Sarah, right?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about her.”

Rafe nodded his head in thanks, before leading you towards the house.

"Hey, just call if you need anything!" Kiara called after you, which you only replied with a weak "Okay!", your focus on putting one foot after the other. Rafe had his arm around your waist, taking most of your weight.

“Can you walk alright or do you need me to carry you?”

“If you pick me up right now, I will vomit on you,” you moaned and Rafe snorted.

“Right, and neither of us want that.”

It took you guys an embarrassing amount of time until you reached the house, since you kept making Rafe stop because you thought you were going to throw up. When you finally walked inside, Rafe lead you upstairs, instead of steering you towards the living room.

“Where are you taking me?”

“First aid kit is in my bathroom,” Rafe replied, mostly supporting your weight as you climbed the stairs.

“Ugh, your bathroom? Am I gonna get infected with herpes or something?”

“Is it the smartest idea to insult me in your position right now?” he asked dryly, and you almost sighed in relief when you reached the second floor.

“Just take me to your bedroom Rafe.”

“Alright, Princess,” Rafe sighed, a hint of exasperation in his voice as he guided you to his bedroom, carefully depositing you on the bed. While he went to the bathroom to fetch the first aid kit, you took a second to catch your breath, hoping the world would stop spinning.

Rafe returned with the first aid kit, moving slowly so as not to startle you. He set it down on the bed and then looked at you, concern flickering in his eyes. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you mumbled, pressing a hand to your throbbing cheek. "Just a little dizzy."

"Right." Rafe opened the kit and began to rifle through it, pulling out a bottle of disinfectant and some cotton pads. “This is probably gonna sting,” he warned you.

“Do your worst.”

You managed to flinch only slightly as the cool, yet burning liquid hit your skin, with Rafe’s surprising gentle touch as he cleaned your wound. He put a small bandage on the cut, before sitting back to inspect his handiwork.

“I’ll go grab you some ice for the swelling,” Rafe then said, standing up. “No dozing off, though, a’ight?”

Without waiting for an answer, Rafe left the room, leaving you by yourself yet again. Even though he explicitly told you not to doze off, you laid down on the bed, figuring that it might make the pain a little less bad. As soon as your head hit the pillow, Rafe’s scent engulfed you, and you weren’t sure if you lying down in his bed was too... Intimate? Then again, he was the one who had left you in his bedroom by himself. Before you could sit up again, Rafe reappeared in the room, holding a bag of in his hand, an unreadable expression on his face as he took you in on his bed.

“Sure, go ahead and make yourself at home,” he huffed, but you could see the frown on his face. Rafe sat down on the bed next to you, carefully wrapping the ice bag in a small towel and pressing it against your bruise, his other hand cradling your face. Despite the ice on your skin, you felt your cheeks heating up.

It was odd. You’d never have expected that Rafe could be able to be so gentle, so caring, and you suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to kiss him.

“What’d you say to Topper?” you blurted out instead, breaking the silence. You reached up to hold the ice bag, and Rafe pulled his hands back, raising an eyebrow at you.

“What?”

“After he hit me. What did you tell him to make you leave?”

Rafe sighed, leaning back a bit, staring at the wall as his eyes hardened. “I reminded him of what he did to me when I… Hurt Sarah. Asked him if he was willing to beat me to a pulp for my sister, what he thought I’d do to him for hurting her.”

His eyes flickered back to you.

And you.

You let out a breath at the pregnant pause, scared he’d say something he couldn’t take back. Something real. Maye you had been flirting with him, but so what? There was no harm, they were just words. Right? But admitting something real? That was a whole other story.

“Who would’ve thought Rafe Cameron could be so nice?” You said instead, a teasing lilt in your voice.

Rafe snorted, shaking his head with a laugh, the moment dissipating. “Yeah yeah, don’t get used to it. It was a one time thing.”

“Right, right, we wouldn’t want people to think that Rafe the Kook prince actually has a heart.”

“Does that make you the Pogue Princess then?”

“What?” you asked, flushing. “Where’d you get that idea? That’s obviously Kie.”

“Come on,” Rafe huffed, rolling his eyes. “Kie’s half Kook. And don't even start with my sister. Sarah’s… Half and half, at least.”

You eyed him in amusement. It was clear that he’d spent a good amount of time on that analogy.

“What about Cleo?” you asked, humoring him.

“Ehh. She would’ve made a good Pogue princess, too bad you’ve already taken the spot,” Rafe said with a shrug. “Pogue Princess. Flirts with everyone, heart of gold, never hesitates to get right between a brawl to help out a friend and to call people out on their bullshit…. Should I continue?”

“Please don’t,” you laughed, pressing the ice bag to your cheek. “You’re talking shit out of your ass right now.��

“I’m talking shit out of my ass? You’re the one saying everything that comes to your mind to stop yourself from kissing me right now.”

What?

“What?”

You never thought he’d actually say it out loud. Mention the elephant in the room. The tension you had been trying to ignore all this time. The silence that followed was deafening as you tried to find the right words, your heart beating in your chest.

“In your dreams,” you muttered hotly, repeating your words from earlier in the evening, looking everywhere but at him. It didn’t take long for Rafe to grab you by the chin gently, forcing you to look at him, his eyes piercing yours.

“In my dreams, yes,” he said quietly, inching so close that his warm breath was fanning across your face. “What about yours, princess?”

Gaping at him, speechless, you knew you didn’t have long until Rafe would take your silence as rejection. Your mind was racing, but ultimately, you leaned in, closing the gap and finally kissed him. Rafe let out a soft grunt, dropping his hand from your chin and cupping the back of your head instead to press even closer to you. The kiss deepened, becoming more passionate, as you finally admitted the attraction you felt to another, but you pulled away, when you felt a tad too dizzy.

“Right, shit,” Rafe cursed, knitting his brows together, examining your cheek. “Got too carried away.”

You flushed, handing him the small ice bag, that was more or less a bag of water now. Rafe dumped it in the trash next to the nightstand, before turning back to you with a smirk.

“Took you long enough.”

“Shut up,” you huffed and Rafe only grinned, pushing your hair out of your face, where it stuck to your wet cheek. You leaned in for another kiss, only for Rafe to stop you, holding you back.

“Nuh-uh. You get better first. Next time, I want you to get dizzy because of my mouth and not because you just got punched in the face.”

“You sound real confident there will be a next time,” you pointed out.

Rafe sighed, faux-exasperation. “Princess, don’t act dumb, it doesn’t suit you. You really think I’ll let you go after you’ve professed your love for me?”

“After I did what?” you shrieked in laughter, and Rafe only laughed. It was nice seeing him laugh for real for once, not the smarmy, smirk he used to do. After your laughter subsided, your pursed your lips, serious.

“You know my friends won’t take this well, right? Especially Pope.”

Rafe ran his hand over his buzzed hair, exhaling softly. “I know. But I won you over, didn’t I? Rest will be a piece of cake.”

“I’m serious, Rafe.”

You gave him a look and he leaned down, clasping his hands in his. “So am I. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have been trying to make things up to him, to Sarah. To everyone. It might take a while… And I don’t blame him.”

“As long as you’re aware…. Now, can we get back to kissing?”

“Didn’t you just hear what I said?”

Pushing your lower lip forward, you pouted at him. “One kiss.”

Rafe stared at you for a hot second, frowning. “Fine. One.”

But when he leaned down to give you a chaste kiss true to his words, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of you.

"Jesus, are you trying to kill yourself?" Rafe hissed, but you only cackled, almost taking your bandage off in the process.

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠂⠄☆

author's note: pls leave a comment/reblog/like if you liked it🥹

#rafe x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #drew starkey #obx #outer banks

654 notes · View notes

rebelliousstories · 1 year ago

Text

You’re A Disappointment

Relationship: David x Reader

Fandom: The Lost Boys

Request: No

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms

Word Count: 3,393

Masterlist: Here

The Lost Boys Masterlist: Here

Summary: After a meeting with Max, David returns to the cave; he’s angrier than a bat out of hell.

A slower night gripped the boardwalk of Santa Carla. Unusual for this time of year, but not even the murder capital of the world could continue full throttle all the time. Resting against the railing, a young woman allowed her eyes to scan over the crowd. Her lover rested next to her, smoke billowing from his plush lips. His brothers were nearby causing havoc, but that did not matter as much to him. The girl next to him was gently linking her pinky with the hand that was down near his side. Just having her nearby, within holding range was enough to quiet the voices in his head for a little bit. He did not need to keep the carefully crafted image he spent so long making up with her nearby. However, the older man walking out of the back of his video store, and locking his eyes with the young man made the walls go back up. The man took another slow drag of his cigarette, waiting to see what the man wanted.

“Ha ha! You should’ve seen the look on his face, David! We totally made him need to change his pants.” A loud voice yelled as several figures bounced up to the couple that was leaning against the railing. But David did not turn his head towards his pack mate that had come near. No, his eyes stayed trained on the older man at the video store.

“David, I’m telling you… David?” The other blonde vampire had quieted down as he watched the leader. The entire pack watched with curiosity as David kept smoking, seemingly having a conversation with the older man at the video store. David’s lover and pack turned to see what he was looking at so intensely, and took a step closer together when they noticed. Dwayne immediately stood to David’s left, while Paul and Marko shielded the girl to David’s right. The bleach blonde took one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out beneath the toe of his boot. Watching the older man walk back into the video store, David spoke but did not look to the group around him.

“Dwayne, take the kitten back to the cave along with the boys. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” David went to go walk off but felt a hand grab his. He turned and was met with the concerned gaze of his lover. Leaning over, his unoccupied hand cradled her face while his lips pressed against her forehead. David turned quickly and did not spare another glance towards his pack, getting on his bike and riding off as fast as he could. The lady stood next to Dwayne who gently grabbed her hands to guide her towards his own bike. A concerned look refused to leave her face as the group got closer to the three remaining bikes.

“He’ll be fine, princess. David always is.” Dwayne reassured her quietly as she nodded. She kept repeating that in her head as much as she could, to try and convince herself that her lover would be fine.

“Yeah chicka. David’s always fine. And if he’s not, we just give him you and he calms right on down!” Paul got out in between laughs. Marko joined him in agreeing chuckles while Dwayne just shook his head. Making sure David’s girl was secured on the back of his bike and felt safe, Dwayne led the other two boys through Santa Carla. They whooped and cheered, screaming at the top of their lungs as the wind wiped across their face and through their hair. Getting all the way back to the cave, Dwayne gently navigated the young woman through the rough terrain of the the underground hotel. Letting the terror twins run amuck ahead, Dwayne made sure to treat her with a delicacy, knowing that if there was even a little scratch on her, David would not be happy. He already would not be happy coming home tonight; there was no reason to add fuel to that fire.

Marko ran immediately to check on his birds, while Paul lit up a joint from his coat pocket and made his way around the cave. Dwayne ran into his little alcove and grabbed his current book, eager to read, but watched the movement in front of him. The lady in the cave made her way and sat in David’s chair. There was a specific air around her, a mood that she had been in since leaving the boardwalk.

“Bela? You good?” Marko came around and placed his hand on her shoulder. She nodded, but there was no happiness behind her smile. Before Marko could continue, Paul slammed into him from behind which sent both vampires tumbling to the ground. She watched the boys tumble, swipe, curse, and rough house with each other. It sent out a small giggle from her lips watching them, but her mind switched to David. Whoever that man was at the video store made the pack tense and shield her, which did not make her feel good about her boyfriend being alone with the man.

Sunrise neared and there was still no sign of David. Dwayne had long since made sure that Laddie was safely tucked into his nest, and Star was in hers. Neither were seen much that night as Laddie was not feeling well leaving Star to stay with him and take care of the young halfling. The terror twins of the vampire pack had calmed down and stalked off to their sleeping perch in the cave. They did make sure to stop by the girl who had yet to move from her boyfriend’s chair all night, and give her some reassurance the best they could. Dwayne was the last to retire, trying desperately to wait up for David with her but the impending sunrise made him grow increasingly sleepy. But he went by the girl who was still up and tried to get through to her.

“He’ll be home soon, princess. You don’t have to stay up.” Dwayne spoke quietly, placing his hand on her shoulder. She blinked once, twice, three times before turning and giving him a soft smile.

“Thanks Dwayne. But I’m not going to be able to sleep anyways.” She said softly and squeezed his hand in comfort. The vampire stayed there with the young lady for another minute before giving her one last comforting squeeze, and walking further into the cave to prepare for sleep. Checking her watch, she started to worry as there was only about an hour of darkness left for her lover to make it home safely and he was still nowhere. She grabbed one of the books from Dwayne’s alcove, and settled back into her lover’s chair. Passing the time was difficult as she kept checking her watch every five minutes to make sure that David was not about to become a pile of ash. Thirty minutes from sunrise, and the barest hint of a changing sky, she heard it. The rumble of a bike pulling up above where the entrance to the cave was made her heart sore. Tossing the book back where she was sure Dwayne would collect it, she ran all the way to the fountain and waited.

Hearing a fierce screech, she watched as David flew into the cave. He landed but paid no attention to the girl that was clearly waiting on him. He threw a brick that was at his feet at the cave walls before moving onto a different target. His chair was thrown without care, and several cans that had been littered about were instead flung into the air in a furious flurry. David tore tapestries and fabric from their post, but did not dare tear down Star’s nest, having enough wherewithal to not destroy that. But he did not show the same care for the rest of the cave. Watching from the fountain, his girlfriend stayed quiet and let him vent out his frustrations. It would not be a good idea to get in the middle of the storm now, and figured he would either tire himself out and sleep the rest off, or get everything out of his system and then would turn to her. But as she watched him destroy any and everything, she knew it would be a while before it was out of his system entirely. David was uncharacteristically fired up and awake for this time of day, as the sun had finally broken the surface of the horizon.

The boys could no longer leave the cave but the new light had shown something that she had missed before. There was blood all over her boyfriend. All over his chin, chest, his hands, and in his beautiful formally bleach blonde hair. Her watch chimed on the hour and she watched her boyfriend slow down and breathe deeply in the shadow of the cave. Bright morning light had infiltrated just the very top of the cave, which meant the entire main area was still shrouded in shade but that did not stop David from finding the darkest corner and cowering in it like a wounded, wild animal.

“David?” She called, ever so softly over to her boyfriend. His chest heaved up and down as he took in deep breaths from the physical exertion.

“David? Hey, are you alright big guy?” She cautiously approached the man. As far as she could tell he made no indication that he was even aware of her presence. Her footsteps grew closer and closer, but David still did not acknowledge her. She got within arms reach of her lover, and slowly crouched down to be eye level with him. But this caused David to shift further back into his hiding hole. Reaching her arm out to place on him, caused David to violently shift away and hit his head against the cave wall.

“David? Honey, you’re scaring me. Are you alright?” His eyes closed as he tried to calm his breathing down.

“You should be asleep, kitten.” David rasped out. In his voice, anyone could see it was clearly used for even more talking and shouting than had been in the cave. It startled his girlfriend a little bit. She was not expecting to hear his voice like this. It sounded so… defeated. It sounded so unlike David. David was never one to show weakness to anyone. He was their fearless leader that protected them, and guided them.

“I couldn’t sleep not knowing if you were okay.” She whispered. His eyes opened slowly and looked at the girl in front of him. Her concern washed over her face and it made David feel bad.

“I’m always okay. You need to go to sleep. Go to your nest.” But neither made a move away from their current spots. That is, until, David’s lover got up and walked away without a word. He slumped against the cool cave wall feeling the exhaustion starting to hit him. Physical and mental exhaustion combined with the fact that the sun just made him want to sleep, it was all starting to be too much for David to handle. His eyes shut yet again, but they quickly reopened when he felt something cool and wet delicately touching his face.

His lover had returned with a damp rag, and had begun to clean up the blood that David had not bothered to clean off before. They sat in silence as she swiped the rag over his face, neck, and chest. The rag became stained with red, but David was steadily becoming cleaner with every pass. She finished up on his skin, before moving on to a clean part of the rag to gently wipe his hair as best as she could. But David raised his hand up and caught her wrist gently to pull it away.

“Wanna tell me why you’re like this? I’ve never seen you like this David.” She gently rested her hands on David’s legs and watched his face intently. The man closed his eyes and took a deep breath in and out. He looked like he was trying to find a reply that would keep his problems away from his lover while reassuring her that he had everything under control. But he did not have everything under control, and he could not find anything to hide his feelings. He was far too exhausted to come up with a clever response.

“I had a meeting with Max.” He stated bluntly.

“Who’s that?” She asked with a curious expression.

“Right,” David sighed, “forgot you don’t know about him. Max is our sire. The vampire who made all of us vampires.” He explained slowly and quietly. His girlfriend stayed quiet and let him continue.

“He said something tonight that really got to me. I didn’t mean for it to but it did.” David wet his lips and looks down at his hands, still having a soft grip over one of her wrists but not doing anything more than resting on her.

“What, David?” But the man did not say anything. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times, trying to get the words to come out. But they refused. He could not repeat what his sire had told him. Letting go of her wrist, his hand came up to cup his lover’s cheek. And that is when it flashed in her head. David was letting his memory flash through her mind’s eye.

She saw the same man from the video store in front of her, and felt herself inhaling a cigarette. But it was not her smoking or standing in front of the video store man; it was David. She watched as the man, Max, was rambling on and on in front of her.

“Honestly, David, all I ask is a little order. A little discipline. Is that too much for you to handle?” Max criticized the vampire in front of him, but David refused to back down.

“I said I would handle it, Max. If it’s rushed, it will backfire.” His voice stayed steady. David hated being treated like he did not know what to do or what was going on by anyone, including Max.

“If you keep that human around much longer without starting the process, it will not end well for anyone.” Max took his glasses off and cleaned them with a cruel smile on his face. In a flash, David was breathing the same air as his sire, staring him dead in the eyes.

“Are you threatening us?” David said sternly. Max brought his glasses up to rest gently on his face.

“And what if I am? That girl is not part of the family. You have no claim over her. As far as I am concerned, she’s an outsider. She is fair game, so to speak.” The elder vampire backed up, and threw his hands up in the air. Moving to his desk, Thorn sat at the side, kept it its eyes on David as he came closer to the vampire.

“I have staked my claim and she is under my protection. I have given her the choice to take it slow for her own sake so she doesn’t do what Star did and hold onto her humanity indefinitely. If you so much as lay a finger on her-“

“You’ll what David? Fight me? I am your father, boy. If I had known you would have caused me this much trouble over a couple girls, I would have left you in that alley all those years ago. I didn’t expect you to be such a disappointment.” Max’s words made David stop where he was. Still a few feet from the desk, but now feeling cold. So very chilly.

“What did you say?” He murmured knowing that Max would still be able to hear him.

“You’re a disappointment, David. I ask you for so little. I ask that you follow a few rules, gather a few new family members for yourself and the boys, and yet you can’t do that. The most basic aspect of our species that ensures our survival.” Max had stated all of this with the same blasé that someone would have talking about the weather. Both vampires watched each other intensely; neither making the first move. But when Max went to open his mouth again, David was quick to shut it.

“Listen here,” David slammed his hands down onto the desk of his sire, “I have followed your stupid rules, and done your bidding whenever asked. And it still wasn’t good enough. I gained the others, not you. Your blood may have turned them but I pulled them in. I made them what they are now. Star was rushed to turn and now look at where that’s gotten us? I now have a half in my cave that despises me for the gift that I gave her on your orders because you wanted a girl. But listen here, if you so much as think about turning my lover without my knowledge or hers, I’ll stake you myself.” David left before his sire had a chance to respond. He straddled his bike, and burned rubber turning away from his sire’s home. David knew that sunrise was approaching, but it did not stop him from following the sounds of a nearby beach party.

She was slowly pulled from the memory before she could see anything else, but the blood on him filled in the gaps. Her heart hurt to think that David had to go through that on his own. The comment had clearly struck a nerve with her vampire lover, and he was trying to deal with it the only way he knew how. She leaned forward and pressed a small kiss to his forehead. Another on his temple, then his cheek. She repeated the actions on the other side and continued down. David simply allowed her to continue, not encouraging but not discouraging her either.

“You’re not a disappointment, David. You do so much for the pack to ever think that way. Don’t every believe him when he says that, my love.” She spoke so softly that it caused David to close his eyes and rest his head against her own.

“I’ll spend the rest of eternity telling you what an amazing man you are, as long as you believe me. And I appreciate you waiting on me, even if you’re dying to have me join you.” Her hand came to rest on the other side of his face that was not tucked against her own. And there they sat, simply existing in each other’s presence. David could not put into words what it meant to him to have her there with him after the night that he had. His body had finally let out its last bit of exhaustion and nothing seemed more amazing than sleep at that moment.

David pulled away and pressed a single, loving kiss to his partner’s lips, and stood up. She followed him up shortly, and rested her hands gently on his chest. With one arm around her back, David bent down and picked his lover up. Carrying her deeper into the cave, her nest had awaited them with his boys nearby. Her nest was specifically located in the nearest alcove to their perch so she was nearby in case David needed to check on her. But it also made it easy to check on the boys if he decided to sleep next to her instead. Ducking underneath the curtains, the inviting bed was just sitting there begging for the couple to lay down. They toed off their shoes, and David removed his jackets. As the couple laid down, David opened his arms for his lover to slot herself into. The daylight pulled David under the veil of sleep quickly and soon enough he was sleeping peacefully.

His lover stayed up for just a little bit longer to watch him sleep. She would feel bad about it, had she not caught her vampiric lover doing the same to her many times over. But it made her happy to see him finally get some sleep after the exhausting night that he had. And she was going to do everything in her power to make sure that David realized that he was not in any way, shape, or form, a disappointment.

631 notes · View notes

melikedraw · 30 days ago

Note

stumbled across ur blog n omg im in love literally went thru all ur stuff today n last night u r feeding the people

would love to hear ur thoughts on christmas with gaolang and ohma and any of ur faves!!! feeling very christmasy rn

Christmas with the kengan boys🎄🎄

Various kengan men x gn! Reader

(gaolang, ohma, Jose, himuro, saw paing)

~~~~~

Gaolang:

- he doesn't typically celebrate Christmas, I'm also pretty sure 25 dec is still a working day in Thailand (don't @ me I got this from Google)

- HowEVER he will take the day off to celebrate it with you because you always come first

- if you celebrate with your family, he would take that chance to make a good impression on your parents (they will love him, he's just perfect like that)

- he would even make a dish to bring to your parents house

- if you celebrate alone, he'll cook up a feast for you

- may not have much of the typical Christmas meals but there will be many homely, warm, comforting traditional Thai dishes

- he'll even practice making dishes from your home country

- would appreciate it if you join him in the kitchen, even if you can't cook

- he just loves your presence

Ohma:

- what's Christmas? (KIDDING) (or am I)

- has never celebrated Christmas before meeting you, probably thought it was a myth at some point

- but once he heard about the Christmas turkey or whatever y'all eat for Christmas, he was READY

- literally just comes to your house and goes "food where?"

- he also expects you to have a present for him

- he'll get one for you too, of course. Probably something he found on the ground that reminded him of you

- that said, he doesn't really get the big whoop around Christmas

- all he wants is to be wrapped up in your blanket with you in his arms as he sleeps through the cold day

- tries to fight mall Santa

Jose:

- the Boyfriend Ever™

- wants to make everything as perfect a Christmas as possible

- wakes up early to make you a nice breakfast and brings you out the whole day

- he'll get you whatever you want too, gifts and all

- probably wants it to be a day of just the two of you though if you usually celebrate with your family, he expects you to bring him along (he wants to make a good impression on your parents)

- candle lit dinner is a MUST. His own home cooked dinner of course. He'll turn off all the lights in your shared house, light a few candles he found laying around in the store room, set a plate heaped with his meals made with love and pour you a glass of wine (or whatever drink you like. It'll still be in a wine glass though, for the vibe)

- wants to end the day early so that you two have time to cuddle, maybe watch a few cringey Christmas movies

- he loves it if you fall asleep in his arms, trust me, he told me himself

Himuro:

- yikes, with all the girlfriends he has, you might not even have the day with him

- okay, let's assume he stops playing around after meeting you

- he'll bring you out shopping, spoiling you with whatever you want to get

- then, he'll take you to a fancy restaurant, typical date style since he's not the type to make home cooked meals imo

- will be extra sweet to you (he is always a dear, but he's seriously EXTRA charming today)

- probably takes you to places with a bunch of Christmas decorations set up or a big Christmas tree so that y'all can take photos together for him to flex on the three other idiots (lihito, okubo, kaneda)

- he hopes to end the day with you in his bed/ him in yours

Saw paing:

- he is SO excited

- weeks before Christmas itself he'll be talking about how much he wishes to spend it with you

- he is a yappatron 3000 so be ready to have your ears talked off about what he plans to do for you

- unlike all the others who would celebrate Christmas with your family, Saw paing will fly you (and your family if you request it be done) to his home village and celebrate there

- you're saws s/o, which means you're now family to the entire village. The kids will call you big sis, the adults will treat you as if you and saw were already married

- you'll probably have a lot of "when will we have our grandkids/nephews/whatever" questions asked, but other than that, it's a really chill, homely experience

- however, a downside to this is that you and saw never get time alone

- if you're in saw's rooms, don't be surprised if someone just barges in, because that's how siblings be

- even giving him a kiss will get you stares from the grandma across the room or something and a giggle from a gossipy aunty (good luck, you'll need it)

#kengan #kengan ashura #kengan omega #kenganverse #kengan x you #kengan x reader #kengan x y/n #gaolang #gaolang wongsawat #kaolan wongsawat #saw paing yoroizuka #himuro ryo #ohma tokita #tokita ohma #jose kanzaki #kengan headcanons

60 notes · View notes

sserpente · 1 year ago

Text

Blood on a Silver Platter

Synopsis: You are a human slave forced to serve your master the night he hosts a dinner party for some special guests. Only when you meet Astarion, you realise that the reason you were bought was not for your services... but for your blood.

A/N: Whoops. Oh dear, what is this sassy vampire doing on my blog? Seriously, I started playing Baldur's Gate 3 two nights ago but I've been obsessed with Astarion even before that. If you follow me on that fancy picture app, you'll know I've met Neil before and I can't emphasise enough how much of a sweetheart he is. He truly has a hand for these sassy characters, haha! Have fun reading!

Words: 1749 Warnings: blood, feeding, slave!Reader

Astrid didn’t like new girls. They were shy, terrified, angry, and stubborn and they knew nothing about how this place was run, where the dishes, the cutlery, and the crystal wine glasses were. But how would you? You had a right to be terrified. You had a right to be angry. How else would you feel, sold and enslaved like cattle or a piece of furniture?

Ezekiel, your new master, had made it very clear to you from the very beginning that you were easily replaceable if you did not obey. Human slaves did not sell for much in these parts, for they lacked strength, agility… and longevity compared to other species. You could not argue with that—and that made you even more furious.

He was hosting a dinner party tonight, a group of travellers if you’d heard correctly. Of course, none of you were supposed to ask questions. You were merely there to serve and make them comfortable. You sighed. You had been on your feet all day, preparing the feast and preparing the table.

By the time Ezekiel received his guests, Astrid was screaming the place down in the kitchens. She was not a slave—your master paid for her services and left her in charge of the girls he bought to do the dirty work for them. You hated them both.

Right after the main course was served and the guests began to eat, Astrid handed you a jug of red elven wine. Her ice-cold eyes bore into yours. “Ezekiel asked for you specifically to serve the wine before the main course. Do not speak unless you’re spoken to. Refill the wine, keep your head down, and leave, is that understood?”

“Yes.” You gnashed your teeth, biting back a snarky remark when she pushed you through the doorway and you almost spilled the expensive alcohol on the stone tiles to your feet.

It was the first time you got to lay your eyes on Ezekiel’s mysterious guests. None of them were human, not at first glance.

There was one with green skin, another with red skin and horns protruding from their forehead… a tiefling… one of them, however, stood out to you the most; he was sitting at the head of the table. His short blonde hair was wild, complimenting those sharp ears, the pale skin, and his eyes… red pupils.

You quickly looked down when you realised your master noticed your rude staring, refilling their wine glasses as instructed by Astrid. The blonde man’s gaze bore into you the closer you got to him, intrigue apparent on his face.

“Well then, my honoured guests. Dinner is served. Enjoy your meal. That goes for you too, Astarion. I hope she is to your satisfaction. I got her from the slave market only three days ago.” Ezekiel leaned over to another slave girl. “Take that jug from her.”

Astarion. You did not fail to notice that his plate was the only one that was still empty. But you realised a moment too late what exactly your master’s words entailed. The slave girl you handed the jug to was only slightly older than you but you didn’t even know her name. All you knew was that the both of you dreaded what Ezekiel had in store for you, for as soon as your hands were empty, Astarion grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward him.

“Why, hello, darling.”

Losing your balance, you stumbled, landing on his lap. He was quick to snake his arm around your waist to keep you from escaping. He buried his free hand in your hair and tugged on it hard enough to force you to reveal your neck to him.

Your eyes widened when you caught a glimpse of his fangs right before he sank them deep into your throat, breaking the skin. You flinched, the burning sensation quickly turning into a pulling pain that had you shaking on his lap, and then… the panic kicked in and dug its claws deep into your guts.

Pushing your palms flat against his chest, you attempted to push yourself off of him, your survival instinct getting the better of you. You winced when the pain intensified and Astarion pressed you even closer against him as he drank from you. His lips on your neck sent shivers down your spine and the more you fought, the more he seemed to be enjoying himself.

It felt like an eternity and as your body grew weaker, your determination to drive a stake through his heart grew with each passing second.

Finally, Astarion released you. He licked his lips, red with your blood, an almost lascivious noise escaping him. When he let go, you slid off of him with the last of your remaining strength, almost toppling to the floor in the process.

“Hmm… thank you, darling,” you heard him say. “You taste absolutely delightful.”

You did not turn around to see the smug expression that would match his tone on his face. Instead, you hurried back to the kitchens with trembling limbs, processing what had just happened. Your mind was near empty. As if along with your blood, he’d sucked every other thought from you as well. You swallowed thickly.

He bit you. He drank your blood. He almost killed you. He used you like a living blood bag. Was this why Ezekiel had bought you?

“Where is the new girl? I asked her to do one simple job, for the love of the gods!”

“Astrid, I’m not sure she…” It was the girl who had taken the wine jug from you who spoke up. She knew that something bad would happen, she must have. You had seen it in her eyes when your gazes had crossed.

“I’m here now,” you croaked out. Your throat was dry. You didn’t want to go back out there. Didn’t want to help serve dessert, didn’t want to face him again after what he’d just done to you with everyone watching as if it didn’t concern them, eating their fucking stag steak for dinner.

“A-Astrid… would… w-would you mind s-serving dessert, p-please?” you chirped.

“And what do you dream of at night?” She came barging in from the pantry, arms akimbo and practically fuming. You swallowed thickly, clenching your fists in a weak attempt to control your shaking. It was with great satisfaction that you noticed her face fall when you turned around, revealing the small trickles of blood running down the fresh bite mark on your neck.

Her eyes widened. You were quite certain you had never seen her stutter before.

“Go… you can… g-go wash up. I’ll take care of the desserts.”

“Thank you.” You nodded, rushing past the other slave girls, all of them staring at you with widened eyes, and barged into the small washing room adjacent to the kitchens. A dirty kitchen towel would have to do to wash the blood off of you.

With trembling fingers, you rubbed at your sensitive skin until almost all evidence of his assault was gone before leaning over to wash your face. You used the cleanest-looking part of the kitchen towel to pat yourself dry before you took a deep breath and opened your eyes again—facing Astarion in the mirror right behind you. The gasp that escaped your lips echoed through the almost empty room. Instinctively, you stepped back, only to realise a fraction of a second too late that you would bump straight into his chest.

The vampire grabbed your arms and flipped you around fast so you’d face him, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Hello there,” he purred. “No need to be so frightened, dear.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. It was the amusement in his voice that had you seethe, anger pushing your fear out of the way for just a moment. “Of course not. Why would I be? You only just bit me and drank my blood like I’m some sort of snack.”

“Oh but are a snack,” he retorted, chuckling. “And you were quite a delicious one too.”

You stared at him. “What do you want?”

“I want you to come see me tonight.”

Frowning, you processed his words. He couldn’t possibly mean…

Astarion laughed. “You are looking so frightened again. I promise I will make it worth your while.”

“And if I don’t want to?” you whispered. You were a slave—your question was entirely redundant. It wasn’t like you had a choice. Ezekiel had practically delivered you to Astarion on a silver platter.

“Well, Ezekiel expects me to kill you tonight.”

You felt your heart plummet.

“I understand it he only bought a human slave for the occasion. To satiate my hunger and for my… entertainment tonight. Surely, he is aware how feeble mortal lives are, it is almost a waste to invest in human slaves.” You gnashed your teeth. “But there is an alternative,” he continued.

“What alternative?” you snapped.

“I could use a travelling companion. A… loyal blood slave, so to speak, and I must say I did not expect human blood to taste so delightful.”

Your frown deepened. A blood slave… to a vampire, following him like an obedient and lost puppy… you would rather die than give up your body like that. But was it truly worse than serving your current master knowing he had killed former slaves for dropping plates before? Knowing that the sole reason he had purchased you was to please one of his guests?

One thing was certain—you did not want to die and at least… he was quite handsome, was he not?

“What do you say, dearest?” Astarion’s brushed his knuckles against your cheek. He took a step forward, pressing you against the doorframe and trapping you between the solid wood and his strong body.

You sucked in a deep breath when he bent your head to the side, revealing the bite mark he had left on you. You prepared for another rush of sharp pain tearing through your neck, squeezing your eyes shut in response.

Instead, you felt his tongue dart out to taste you with a start, licking over the wound.

“There… all healed. For now,” he added with a sly smirk. You frowned, your hand flying up to feel your neck. He was right. The two little holes where his fangs had punctuated your skin were gone. And yet… his sly smirk was a silent promise that this was only the beginning of your time together.

A/N: Check out my blog for more Imagines and my original novel(s)! ♥

#astarion #astarion imagine #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x female reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 imagine #neil newbon

600 notes · View notes

professional-yapper · 11 months ago

Text

You

Lo'ak x Tayrangi! Reader

Warnings: mistaken identity kind of, teens having fun, arranged marriage, fighting/arguments, how they meet is very 101 Dalmatians and i love it, they're both oblivious asf

Neytiri sent Lo'ak to go collect fruits from the grove near the other end of the Omaticaya territory. Normally he'd complain about extra chores, but not today. It was one of the better tasks to be landed with, anyway, even if it would consume his whole day.

But then Jake said Lo'ak could take his ikran, and that would cut the journey in half at least. Maybe more, since Lo'ak, like every other teenager, was all too fond of letting his ikran set the pace. Which, more often than not, simply meant break-neck speed, especially since Lo'ak's ikran was as young as himself in ikran years, according to Neytiri, and just as headstrong.

Lo'ak's ikran, named Spitfire by Jake in one of his rare moments of fatherly affection, was raring to go, practically launching himself into the air the second Lo'ak settled on his back and made the bond.

Kiri had, at one point, taken to calling the ikran Spitty, resulting in Lo'ak pitching a fit and pulling her hair, which then meant days of not speaking to each other. Lo'ak still got sulky every time he remembered the undignified name.

Lo'ak whooped, punching his fist in the air, gripping tightly with his thighs and trusting Spitfire not to let him fall, or at least to catch him if he did. The wind whistled past him, snatching at his braids, whipping a brisk flush into his face.

It was a good day. The sun was already high in the sky, warm on his back despite the wind. The air was heady with the scent of flowers coaxed into bloom by the warm weather, even at this height.

Spitfire, after a little urging from Lo'ak, evened out, gliding smoothly through the sky, occasionally letting out a screech of contentment. Lo'ak settled back, keeping one hand on the handle and feeling for the pouch strapped across his hips Neytiri had given to him to store the fruits in, making sure it was strapped on securely.

It wouldn't take him long to gather enough fruits to satisfy Neytiri. Maybe a few hours.

Maybe more if he decided to take a nap. Lo'ak loved naps, especially deep in the forest amidst the undergrowth, where he could burrow himself into the sun-warm grass and no one would bother him for hours. He probably liked them so much because they restored all the energy he burned living up to Jake's expectations. Very high expectations.

Yeah, he could use a nap. It was just that kind of day.

And it would give him time to think, too. About what his parents had told him a few days ago. About how, since Neteyam had mated with the youngest child of the Olangi olo'eyktan, Lo'ak would do the same, but with the only child of the Tayrangi olo'eykte.

It would benefit the Omaticaya, Neytiri had soothed him, smoothing a hand over his braids. These kinds of unions would prevent any conflict and better the relationships with other tribes. Jake, on the other hand, had told him there was no wriggling out of it, and he'd be mating with this stranger before the end of the year whether he liked it or not.

Comforting, right?

Neteyam had tried to comfort him over it. It was easy for Neteyam. He and his mate were arranged too, but they were crazy about each other, and Neteyam had always wanted to settle down and have a mate of his own and a family anyway. It was why he'd bent so easily to their parents' decision.

And it was easy for Kiri too. She was their dad's favourite, his babygirl. She wouldn't get married off to Aonung or some other guy if she didn't want to. Lucky shit.

Tuk was... well, she didn't have to worry about marriage for a good while yet.

But Lo'ak did. He didn't care about maintaining good relationships with other tribes, or having a mate of his own and settling down. He didn't care about any of that shit. He just wanted his freedom, and the freedom to choose who he mated with. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently so.

Spitfire shrieked, and a ripple of confusion and panic hit Lo'ak through the bond, right as something large and colourful shot past them like a flash of lightning.

Lo'ak caught a glimpse of a face with an equally panicked expression, then swore as Spitfire reared and shrieked again. Though this time, instead of confusion in the bond, all Lo'ak felt was a sudden burst of childish joy, right before Spitfire dived after the other ikran.

Lo'ak yelled in exhilaration as both ikrans went into a nosedive, and crouched low over Spitfire's back, knuckles going white as he tightened his grip. It was dangerous, and if his parents found out, he'd never hear the end of it, but they weren't here now and Lo'ak found this was too much fun for him to care.

He whooped, and heard an answering cry from the rider of the other ikran below, you, which made something in his heart twist with further excitement.

Spitfire was uncontrollable with the excitement of having what was probably another young ikran to play with, and Lo'ak let him have his head, content to just go along for the ride.

The other ikran straightened out before it hit the canopy, and Spitfire followed, flying alongside, steadying himself with a few flaps.

"Sorry," you called, face flushed and apologetic, but then began laughing breathlessly. "Great Mother, I am so sorry! Kikorangi- my ikran- saw you down below and he just took off-"

"It's okay," Lo'ak shouted back, smiling uncontrollably at you. You were probably the most attractive person he'd ever seen, so one couldn't exactly blame him for being so quick to forgive you for the scare. "But I've never seen you before. You're not Omaticaya, are you?"

He didn't have to ask. He knew you weren't. You looked like a young warrior from another tribe, like him. Your skin was covered in a pearly white paint, in swirling patterns. It was mesmerising.

"What?" you called, then raised your eyes skyward, laughing again. "I can't hear you. Wait there."

Lo'ak blinked, confused, as you steered your ikran up and over his head, flying along above him. He tilted his head back, looking up, trying to see what you were doing, only to nearly smack heads with you. You were performing some risky manoeuvre, sliding around to the underbelly of your ikran, gripping on with only your thighs, swinging upside down and smiling at Lo'ak, eyes bright and beautiful, nose nearly brushing against his.

You chuckled at his stunned expression, then righted yourself and leapt down onto Spitfire, breaking the bond with your own ikran. Spitfire jerked at the foreign addition to his cargo, and tilted his head, shooting you a baleful look.

Lo'ak stiffened as you seated yourself behind him, one arm loosely around his stomach, making his abs tense beneath your warm skin, your thighs pressing against his own. "Sorry, what were you saying?" you asked airily, mouth next to his twitching ear, like this wasn't the most intimate position he'd ever been in.

Words failed him. He could only hold very still, in the hopes you wouldn't become uncomfortable and move away. He liked having you there, the weight of your body against his back comforting.

But you shifted back, away from him, laughing again, and the sound rang through his mind, etching itself into the walls of his skull. "Sorry," you apologised for a third time. "I didn't mean to freak you out."

"It's okay," Lo'ak replied almost robotically, words feeling clumsy and foreign on his tongue. Great Mother, get it together! he told himself firmly. There's a beautiful warrior cuddling up to you, wanting to talk and all you can say is it's okay?!

He forced himself to relax, turning his head and smiling crookedly at you over his shoulder.

Your face was like the sun. You seemed to be lit with a golden, gleaming warmth from the inside out, and it honestly made him a little dizzy.

"I was just asking what tribe you're from," he repeated.

"Tayrangi," you answered blithely. "You must be Omaticaya, I guess."

Lo'ak nodded, noting that you were from the same tribe as his future mate. He didn't want to bring that up, though, figuring if he was to have any chance with you he shouldn't bring up his imminent union.

Even though he wouldn't be able to pursue you because of said union... What the tribes didn't know couldn't hurt them, right?

"That's sick," Lo'ak said, smiling that same lopsided smile at you. "Never met any from the Tayrangi before."

"Never met an Omaticaya before either," you grinned back, leaning back on your hands.

"Am I living up to your expectations?" he teased, gathering all his courage to do so, ears drooping slightly in apprehension of your response.

"Who said I had any expectations?" you teased back, nudging the back of his thigh with your knee, sending hot flames of want up his spine.

Lo'ak rolled his eyes, but couldn't hide his delight at finding someone who could match him blow for verbal blow. "Oh, come on!" he scoffed. "You came all the way here, you must've thought about what we'd be like at some point!"

"Maybe I did," you agreed, and the glint in your eyes told him you were being purposefully elusive.

"Go on, then," he encouraged. "Am I everything you hoped?"

You pretended to think, finger pressing into your chin, eyes fixed on the clouds above. Then you smiled again. "Nope."

Lo'ak scoffed again, preparing to fire back some surely witty retort, before you inched forward again, leaning on his back, arm tightening around his middle again, pressing your lips to his ear decisively.

"You're better."

@frogletscribe

Woohoo done! Proud of this one tbh everyone enjoy x

#avatar #avatar x reader #atwow #avatar 2 #avatar fanfiction #neteyam #loak #neytiri #jake #jake sully #loak x reader #lo'ak x reader #loak fanfiction

204 notes · View notes

deerspherestudios · 1 year ago

Note

Hello ^^ I made many good friends in the MO server! Your game is very amazing and I can’t wait for the next update. I have a few questions.

1: We know that Mychael has an affinity for the forest, does that extend to its animals? Obviously he won’t protect them or anything as evidenced by the fact he lets your cat die but yknow does he hold a deep respect to them? Now that I think about it, does he hunt animals to eat them or does he buy meat?

2: Would Mychael’s powers be weakened if you pepper sprayed him or just blocked his eyes with something like it? (If so, my oc is bringing 10 tons)

3: He mentions in the game that he has met other people in the forest. Was he as kind to them as he was mc (letting them sleep there and being polite) or did he try to get them out of the forest? Did he scare them off O-O?

That is all, thank you ^^

Thank you for your questions!! I usually prefer single questions instead of stacking but since all three are unique, I'll put them under a read more since there's a lot (cw for eyestrain in one of the images):

1. He sees the forest and everything within as a resource, but knows better than to take more than what he needs. If he were to find an injured animal, he's not the kind to rescue and nurse it back to health (rather leave it be to feed another predator animal). He understands that it's just natural for animals to die to 'feed' the ecosystem.

If he can get something himself, he won't bother looking for it in stores. He prefers to hunt, but doesn't use traps even if he does have knowledge on how to make them.

2. His powers don't just rely on eye contact. But if you pepper sprayed him or whatever, he'd definitely be too distracted to use his ability on you. So consider it effective, I guess!

3. He treats everyone he meets the same, but obviously will adapt based on how they react to him. If the human turns out friendly, great! If they turned out hostile, whoops, hit them with the hypnosis beam.

His first priority would be to help them get back home, regardless if they're hostile or not. The only scenario in which he'd leave you to wander aimlessly (or heavens forbid, straight up kill you himself) was if you were genuinely an evil person.

#mushroom oasis vn #mychael ask #im glad u made friends on the server!#i should really drop by more often haha #scopophobia #scopohobia tw #for one of the images under cut

348 notes · View notes

boydepartment · 1 year ago

Text

boring, draining, tedious, company party- lee heeseung

a/n: whoops…….. sorry i have heeseung brain rot </3 anyways

warnings: it can be non-idol or idol au it doesn’t really specify much, it’s fluff, heeseung is kinda a loser but is very quick on his feet. he pretty much rizzes you up at the company christmas party. lowercase intended… reader is fem

wc- 250-500

MASTERLIST

you sat at the very corner of the christmas party. it was apparently something the company did every year. something that was required which was something you weren’t used to.

i mean who in the right mind makes a company christmas party mandatory?

you looked down at your jewelry clad hands and messed with a couple of the rings. you were bored and absolutely famished for something. well… not really. there was just nothing to do!

they didn’t even have the appetizers out or party food. so it’s not like you could have some food anyways! they only had alcohol which you didn’t want to touch. at least for right now.

as you messed with your rings you saw two fancy shoes enter your peripheral.

your eyes slowly made their way up to the face of the man who decided to come up to you.

lee heeseung

he worked in a different department than you. so you didn’t see him around often but the women talked about him a lot. you’ve spoken to him a few times in meetings.

“can i help you?” you asked, trying not to sound stuck up. it’s not like he was doing anything wrong yet.

“you just looked lonely so i wanted to…- i don’t know.” heeseung was cringing at his words, you found it endearing how nervous he was. you could tell because he wouldn’t stop moving.

“the company party is a little boring.” your eyes glazed over the crowd.

heeseung was still looking at you, “has it been? i’ve been pretty preoccupied.”

you scoffed, yeah no shit. every other woman in your department wanted to talk to heeseung. they flocked to him like seagulls to a picnic at a beach.

“what? did i say something wrong?” he turned his head in confusion, doe eyes studying yours. you could tell why everyone wanted him. he was very handsome and respectful. plus he worked hard in the company.

“you didn’t say anything wrong…” your voice softened, god what was in the air today?

“i think the decorations are nice.” he smiled and rocked on the balls of his feet, hands in his pockets,

you looked around, “i like the festive lights.” heeseung looked down at you.

“i do too… do you want to walk around and look at them with me?”

you were taken aback by him being forward, however, it didn’t stop you from taking his hand and letting him lead you outside.

the city was good about decorating the trees with lights, even some stores decorated with festive colors. you couldn’t help but look at them in awe. only breaking out of the moth like trance when heeseung started laughing.

“what?” you were still speaking softly.

“i just find it cute you ditched a company party for me.”

your jaw went slack before you gained composure, “it’s not like i was doing anything at the party anyways.”

heeseung wouldn’t stop laughing, “trust me i know, i was keeping an eye on you.”

your brows furrowed, “why is that?”

“because you’re pretty.”

you felt your face heat up and you shoved him lightly, almost sending him into a light decorated bush. you tried to figure out a quip or something to say back.

but you were speechless.

“was i too forward again?” heeseung asked, stepping closer to you.

where did the dorky loser go?

you shook your head no and he took off his jacket and put it on you.

“so you don’t catch cold.” he mumbled and took his hat out of his pocket aswell to place on your head.

“thank you…” you mumbled as heeseung adjusted the beanie on your head accordingly.

“you’re cute when you’re flustered.” he spoke under his breath.

you tried not to look away from him, because you were flustered and nervous and you didn’t want him seeing really how much he was effecting you.

“ready to keep walking?” heeseung asked, “or we could go back to that boring, tedious, draining, com-“

“just keep going!” you quickly started walking, heels clinking on the concrete. heeseung laughed and jogged back up to you, he placed his hand lightly on your waist and held you close.

this was definitely better than the boring, tedious, draining, company party.

225 notes · View notes

vixensbrainrotts · 1 year ago

Text

Tokyo revengers headcanons

Content: Tr headcanons

Content warnings: None I hope, please let me know if there are any!

Vixen's two cents: I’ve been wanting to dump all my headcanons somewhere for a while now so here! I don’t think that these are all, but I’m gonna make a second post about any further headcanons I have. Also, i apologize for not including everyone here, ill make sure to include them next time. I hope you enjoy, and if you do, please tell me about it! Don’t be afraid to send me requests either, I’d love to write most anything (I’m uncreative sometimes)! Oh also, what are some of your headcanons? Do you agree with any of mine? I’ll link the part two once i figure out how to do that lol

(VOLUME II)

Kokonoi who is genuinely so bothered by bugs you won’t believe it. He has to leave the room as soon as he sees the „threat“, and fast.

Izana who curses loudly on Filipino whenever he accidentally hurts himself. You can hear him shout from across the whole house when he bumps himself on a corner.

Chifiyu who has a passion for graffiti. He loves tagging and wild styling and spraying elaborate throwup-styles on walls on Toman turf.

Inui who is colorblind, which is really unfortunate because he has an interest in fashion and styles. He relies on Koko for the greater part, but has recently discovered apps that identify color, which has vastly improved his personal style and allowed him to take on more challenging shades.

The Katawa twins who have an honestly really impressive Pokémon card collection and often play against each other to pass time. The amount they have spent on it is sorta concerning and more often than not stop by the little magazine store to buy another pack to "improve their decks" before gang meetings.

Hakkai who has a distinct dislike for the color orange but keeps finding himself surrounded it. He hates it but the walls in his room are orange. He could puke because his favorite faux-fur-coat is a darker orange. There’s no reasoner doesn’t like the color but something about it makes his skin crawl.

Hanma who is German/Russian and makes sure everyone knows it. He is proud of his heritage and will often use German and Russian idioms when conversating. It’s all fun and games till he starts swearing in his mother tongues during fights, bashing in his opponent’s skulls whilst cursing in a foreign, very aggressive manner.

Nahoya and Souya who work like devils in the kitchen. It’s a perfect tandem in between them, they somehow always know what the other wants and needs. If Nahoya needs a hand in opening the oven, Souya’s doing a 360 no look opening. If Souya’s hands are messy from kneading the dough, Nahoya automatically turns on the tap for hand washing. Twin telepathy is real and they’re the number one proof.

Mucho who can’t do shit in terms of math. You need him busy? Ask him for 7x9 and he’ll be unresponsive for the next 3-5 minutes. It’s really frustrating to him because he genuinely puts in so much effort to understand the formulas, but the numbers simply don’t click in his brain.

Smiley who got the smiley piercing the moment he found out about it. It’s really impressively healed and works so well on his face. Some even say that his smile has gotten wider ever since he got it. He also has a poorly healed nose stud on the left side that he only keeps in for sentimental value. He got it in the seventh grade during school and he got his ass whooped when he came back home with it.

Kisaki who unintentionally practices calligraphy because he writes exclusively in cursive. All of his notebooks look fake because all the letters look identical and everything is evenly spaced. The highlighter girlies in his classes wish death upon him on a daily.

Rindou who’s cracked at Chemistry for no reason. He doesn’t even have to try, it’s like the formulas unfold in front of him and the laws and rules just make sense. He can’t even explain it but ask him anything, and I mean anything he can give you the right answer. Just don’t ask him to be your lab partner. He has a nasty history of breaking test tubes.

Kakucho who knows how to dress. Like really know how to dress. Anywhere, anytime he’s looking like a Pinterest board. He doesn’t really try or occupy himself with things fashion, but he just looks so good and coordinated all the time. He thought it was natural to know what looks good or not, so he’s sometimes a bit perplexed by the things that his peers wear. He tries to be nice when he tells them it doesn’t work, but comes across a little brash because it frustrates him.

Kazutora who has unnaturally sharp canines. Like, it’s kinda scary sometimes because they poke out of his mouth even when it’s closed. He’ll commonly run his tongue over them when he’s bored, poking and prodding at them to check if they’re still sharp. It’s one of the features of his face he really does like.

Mitsuya who gossips like a Girl. He lives for drama and tea (silently) and due to his club being occupied by mostly girls, he’s surrounded by it constantly. The girls talk and talk and talk and he eats it up. The scary part is that he remembers nearly every part of it, so he knows so much. He’ll never share it with anyone but likes to know what’s happening. Sometimes he even correctly predicts scandals due to background knowledge.

Leading from the last one, Mitsuya who has a deep voice. One that rumbles softly when he speaks and sounds like the ocean when he laughs. It’s a killer during after-noon classes when he has to present or read something cause it has such a calming effect. He’s put multiple of his classmates asleep accidentally.

Draken who know just the tiniest bit about sowing from helping out in Mistuya’s workshop. He knows how to close a seam, he knows how to sew a button and he knows how to patch a hole and that’s it. He’s lowkey proud of it though.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x you #Tokyo revengers headcanons #headcanon #headcanons #tr headcanons

171 notes · View notes

sleepy-crypt1d · 2 months ago

Text

massive collection of COF/AOM hcs i guess idk lol:

edit: i am putting it under the cut because i got carried away and this post is actually massive and i cannot do that to you i am so sorry

Trigger warnings:

suicide mention, cult mention, drug mention, stalking and obsession mention, abuse mention, hanging as punishment mention. general warning for standard COF/AOM stuff.

Sophie:

19 - she/her - bi

into taxidermy and entomology - specifically the art of it, wants to make art out of animal bones and bugs rather than simply preserving them. thinks of them as memorial pieces, making beauty out of tragedy.

is an older sister to a brother still in middle school/about to go to high school. she tutors him after her classes and before her parents get home.

works at her parents convenience store off and on when they need it. its just down the street from the college and they live above it, keeping her out of student housing.

studying to either be a professional taxidermist/bone artist or mortician. her mom wants her to be an artist while her dad insists she gets a 'real job'.

likes to knit. loves making gifts for people and learning how to make her own clothes. she makes gloves for simon in the winter and knit a sweater for her cat once. he hated it.

has an old senior tabby cat she lovingly named beef stroganoff.

has several spots in the woods where she checks for dead animals to preserve/collects bones from. simon always goes with her under the guise of 'making sure she's safe', she thinks it's just because he wants an excuse to get out of the house. the first few times he hated the sight of them but has since gotten used to it. david has not.

struggles with depression and anxiety just as simon does, it's something they bonded over when they met.

her and simon met in high school. her and david met later on at a party when simon introduced them.

her room is always messy but very cozy- each wall covered in framed photos, posters, art projects and random decor she finds at thrift shops.

she's close with her family but hasn't told them any of the things simon has done. she doesn't want them to worry about who she's hanging out with, or trying to stop her. she also doesn't mention david's past when they eventually meet him and start asking questions.

likes going out to parties and concerts and big get togethers but she doesn't have the chance to go very often. she has a group of friends outside of simon and david but she doesn't see them nearly as much as she would like to.

loves deer. has a stuffed animal deer she's had since she was a kid that she never sleeps without.

lives off peppermint hot chocolate. it's a problem.

has a collage on her wall of all the photos simon has taken of her and him together. some are of just her and others are of spots that are important to them. she thought about taking it down after his confession but decided to keep it up after he started to get better.

doesn't smoke but never cares when simon does. he tries not to around her and she always has to remind him that she doesn't care.

she's the one who got simon into urban exploring. once breaking a window with a rock and simply saying 'whoops' before climbing in where in he chased after her terrified of her getting hurt.

loves her studies but hates being at the school. gets picked on a lot and doesn't like being stuck there for hours. she's gotten better at standing up for herself but would rather fade into the background most days.

has thought about moving away before but feels stuck on where she'd go and what she'd do. doesn't want to leave her friends or family but feels stagnant in Stockholm.

loves wearing bracelets and necklaces and rings- has made a lot of them herself in her ceramics class and by picking up bead work from her grandpa.

struggles with depersonalization and derealization causing a lot of her days to blend together, hours, days, weeks of her life feeling like she never lived them. she fills out planners and calendars and journals in an attempt to hold onto the memories but most of the time she doesn't even recognize her handwriting. her brother helps ground her, something to focus on, a way to remember what day it is and where she needs to be, same with her projects. it's not a perfect solution, but it's all she has.

fucking adores Christmas it is her favorite time of year. she is insanely prepared every year and has perfected the act of gift giving to an unsettling degree.

Purnell is a therapist she was recommended when she went to the school counselor after a particularly bad episode, she didn't end up going but later passed his name to simon. she doesn't know if he ever went either. she hopes he did.

has a lot of nightmares. she wakes up from them frantic and convinced something is wrong- either with herself or her family, and gets anxiety sick around them. she has trouble sleeping and has made a lot of late night concoctions from recipes off the internet to get herself to pass out.

gamer but casually. except for that one time she stayed up for a solid 26 hours grinding in a game and then missed school for three days. enjoys simulator games and cozy mystery stuff. was introduced to silent hill by simon and she's been hooked to horror since though.

Simon:

19 - he/him - bi

loves photography and wants to be a either a photographer or a filmmaker. he loves movies and talks about them constantly.

single child. it's only him and his mom and sometimes his aunt who visits from a few towns over every few months.

his dad died when he was younger- this is where he gets his switchblade from. it was a gift that he cant seem to let go of.

his moms is so worried about him partly because of his dad's death and due to his suicide attempt when he was 16. she's overprotective and constantly wanting updates on where he is and who he's with. he's never liked it but knows it's coming from a place of love so he always responds.

adores horror. reads a lot of horror books and binges horror movies. has a top ten list that he will recommend to anyone who will listen. his taste is kind of ass but his friends love him for it.

favorite color is red and buys Everything in said color. phone? red. jewelry for his piercings? red. pajamas and casual wear? red. lighter? red.

likes going out for really late walks when no one else is awake. it calms him down and makes him feel like he can breathe. he sneaks out a lot and comes home once the sun comes up before his mom wakes up.

his mom works two jobs to keep them afloat so he's alone a lot of the time. after his dad died they had to move into a smaller house and she had to work more hours to pay for his school. he tries helping out when he can.

he works at a movie rental store and hates every customer with a passion. sophie and david come to pester him most days and they're the only thing that keeps his attention on what he's doing. unless someone asks him for a recommendation. then he won't shut up.

has a cat named molly. she's a long-haired calico he found as a stray in his neighborhood that he couldn't help but bring home. david told him to name her LSD. he took sophie's suggestion of molly instead. he still hasn't realized she also suggested a drug name yet.

he feeds the stray cats in his neighborhood outside his bedroom window. even after his mom got on his ass about stopping doing that since it was attracting so many of them. he ignored her, obviously.

has an extensive music collection that he rarely shares with anyone else. sophie has gotten a peak at it once but he keeps it very close to his chest. she isn't sure why.

he likes drawing and painting. he doesn't do it very often, not having the money for expensive materials or the space but he still enjoys his art class at school and keeps a sketchbook in his bag when he leaves the house.

his phone is constantly out of storage due to the amount of pictures he takes. he fights with it daily to keep the ones that are 'super important'.

cuts his own hair and doesn't really care what it looks like, just that it's There. he wears his hood most of the time anyways so he barely pays it any mind.

likes taking photos of his friends and his family. he likes reminders of when things are good, physical things he can look at and hold when his depression gets bad.

struggles with depression, anxiety, and paranoid hallucinations. he doesn't know what causes them and tends to hide them when he has them, not telling anyone except for sophie, who attempts to comfort him but has a hard time doing so.

got over his crush on sophie after realizing how much he had scared her. how much he had hurt her accidentally and how sick it made him feel when he realized who he was turning into. he isolated himself a lot during this and has only started to get better after opening up to purnell- who sophie insisted he see- and david, who lets him rant as long as he wants when they smoke together.

he met david downtown when he nearly ran into him and they got into a fist fight before sitting on the curb together and smoking with broken noses and shitty lives to talk about. he was nervous about introducing his friends to each other because he didn't want sophie to be worried and he didn't want david rubbing off on her.

knows how to use so many guns because his dad used to take him hunting. he didn't learn a lot and his use of firearms is rusty but it's enough.

keeps to himself in school and doesn't really talk to anyone unless spoken to first, and even then he's really awkward. he's got anger issues and has a hard time not defaulting to aggression but he's working on it. he's trying to, at least.

wears mismatched socks everyday like it's a competition

UNBELIEVABLY messy eater- a lunch tray hates to see this man coming. it's gotten so bad to the point he just washes all his own dishes because he cannot eat without a mess to save his life. also a fast metabolism so he's constantly snacking or stealing food from his friend's houses

has an old laptop that he's had since middle school. it was his only Christmas present one year and he has drug it everywhere with him since. it's screen has a crack across it and the keyboard is dented in on one side. its loved, is always what he says.

gamer but doesn't really mention it to people. has an unhealthy amount of hours in the games he enjoys and makes a point to 100% everything he does. has weird niche knowledge about the development of his favorite games and has a really hard time not spoiling twists for people when he's excited. has on more than one occasional completely ruined the experience for sophie and she has never forgiven him. enjoys story driven games and horror/stealth based stuff- would adore the first outlast. he plays shooters but has a hard time focusing on them and loses interest pretty fast.

love/hate relationship with his photography professor. he's one of his best students and his teacher loves his work, praising it's ability to capture 'melancholic normalcy' he calls it, but simon also has a horrible time turning things in on time and thinks his teacher's assignments are lackluster, constantly pushing the boundaries of what he's allowed to turn in. he knows simon has a talent, he just isn't using it properly. not in class at least.

earbud user. constantly has them on him and has had to replace them an embarrassing amount of times, he wants to use headphones but he hates how they feel over his hood and under his hood so he sucks it up and uses earbuds.

Always has bandages on his fingers from picking at his nails until they bleed and from frequent paper cuts from his journal- namely from ripping it's pages out- so he goes through boxes upon boxes of them on small scrapes and cuts. The same treatment is applied to his sneakers, of which he's had since high school, that are held together with duct tape and love.

David:

23 - he/him - gay? he doesn't know but like, he has a hunch

oldest brother to two younger sisters. one of which he still talks to and one he hasn't seen since he was a kid.

doesn't talk to his parents. occasionally gets a call from his mom that lasts for hours but then doesn't hear from her for months. he and his dad don't get along.

out of rehab and working at a diner in Stockholm as a cook. he makes good enough pay to have an okay apartment and a car but doesn't have a lot of stuff. he's getting there.

moved to Stockholm after the events of AOM and needing a new start. he wanted somewhere to start fresh. more or else that's what he's getting.

knows a lot about mythology and different religions, going on tangents about the topic when he's high or sleep deprived, always startling sophie and simon with just How Much he knows. they always ask about it and he brushes them off.

he was raised in a cult. his parents extremely religious and overbearing as he was growing up, leading to his desperation to dissociate. this is why he and his dad don't get along, and why he cherishes the small connection his mom still attempts to make with him. his sister he still talks to got out sometime after he did, but the youngest didn't, and neither of them know where she is. he always tries to ask, his mom never has an answer.

still struggles with his addiction. he's doing better, but some days are worse than others when all he wants is to go back. those days he usually picks up more shifts at work or calls simon to see if he's free to go break shit in the woods.

he experiences hallucinations. voices and images and things that aren't there a common part of his day to day that he's surprised simon can relate to. they don't talk about them much, but both have a silent understanding whenever the other just wants to sit and let the world pass.

clicked with sophie really fast when they met- she reminds him of his youngest sister, and he sorta treats her as such. she noticed but hasn't brought any attention to it, enjoying the experience of having an annoying older brother who she can pester.

he likes to play guitar, wanted to be a professional guitarist but never had the chance. his sister keeps telling him to go for it again, that there's still time, but he can't see it going anywhere. he refuses to play for anyone else, only letting her hear what he's working on or what he's relearned to do after so long without touching the thing.

watches a LOT of drama shows and trash reality TV. has frequent noise complaints from shouting at his TV.

has a roommate named lydia who he has a tense relationship with. she's constantly on his ass about the mess and general upkeep of his own room and he's on her all the time about the shitty friends she brings around and how much noise she makes when he's trying to sleep. he's been kicked out enough times to know he needs to find another place he just doesn't know where to look.

wants to get a dog but has a hard time finding apartments that are pet friendly. wants to rescue one from a pound or shelter since it reminds him of the dog his family rescued when he was a kid.

isn't Swedish but is slowly learning the language to better familiarize himself with the city- simon and sophie help out and he's always embarrassed about how much he messes up or how he needs help from- in his words- 'a bunch of loser teenagers'

has a beat up old flip phone that has survived through many different moves, a trip to rehab, several breakups, a mid-life crisis, and getting run over like three times. it is stronger than any of us.

gives simon rides to class when he doesn't want to take the bus and each time simon has a new CD to add to his already bursting case that can barely fit in his glovebox. he never tells him no. he sometimes wishes he would though, the kid's taste in music is unbelievably depressing. one time david told him so and the next time simon got in his car he chucked a kids bop CD at him to prove a point. david played the entire thing in front of him for a week.

only shaves if forced at gunpoint- usually by his sister or coworkers.

terrified of hospitals and hates going if he doesn't have to. was once stabbed and begged lydia not to take him and to just deal with it there. the wound didn't heal right and the scar is mangled across the side of his stomach.

always makes sure his car and/or apartment is full of snacks and easy to make meals because he knows half the time he won't feel up to cooking or he'll toss them at sophie and simon because he knows they barely feed themselves.

the first time simon and sophie saw him in just his turtleneck without his hoodie over it they thought he was a different guy.

he likes writing music in his free time, random lyrics and meanings and thoughts written in the margins of his notepad or scrambled in his phone on break, he gets a lot of inspiration when walking around town or hanging out at the old abandoned mental hospital in the woods that sophie and simon always drag him to.

the scar under his eye is from an accident when he was a kid, tripping down a flight of stairs and hitting into a bookcase that knocked out one of his teeth as well.

really likes birds, knows a lot about them and is able to easily identify most of them. he has a lot of weird knowledge that he can pull out at random about all sorts of things.

gamer and is the worst about it. claims his taste is above everyone elses and he just, plays shooters and a lot of zombie games. gets bored of dialogue heavy games and simon has had to- on more than one occasion- smother him so that he doesn't talk through an important cutscene. has an insane amount of hours in farming simulator.

The reason he wears a turtleneck, other than constantly being cold, is to hide severe scarring on his throat from repeatedly being hanged as a child. It was a common punishment in the cult he grew up in as a sort of "use your breathe wisely or else we will take it from you". It was an extreme form of silence punishment for "talking back" to his parents or the leaders. This left him unable to walk or eat properly for days or weeks at a time, which is why to this day his voice is very hoarse and gruff, his vocal cords never really recovered.

#cry of fear #cry of fear sophie #simon henriksson #afraid of monsters #david leatherhoff #long post #i am SO SORRY for clogging the tag with this i will walk into the ocean #i think about these guys a lot #i couldve kept going #its best i didnt #anyways uhh finished AOM recently and am now onto my nightmare mode playthrough of COF so im about to be insufferable #i might add to this at random when i feel like it #i hope i wasn't too sad idk these characters Invoke something in me #also this post is entirely an invitation to argue with me or toss your own hcs at me #i love either

28 notes · View notes

valkyyriia · 2 months ago

Text

Day 27 - The Gift That Just Keeps On Giving

Kinktober 2024 Prompt List | Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Words: 3765 CW: Possessive Comte, Sexual Teasing, Unprotected Sex, Loving Intimacy Pairing: Comte de Saint-Germain x Reader Prompt(s): Lingerie | Teasing

Notes: I discovered writing this one (this was the third entry I finished) that PWP is difficult for me. Thus, this one ended up being just shy of 3800 words total. Whoops.

I actually had this one finished on the 27th.. I don't know why I didn't post it then. Whoops.

I'll eventually catch up on the rest of the days! I just don't have the writing spoons at the moment, unfortunately.

You were walking through town with your friend Claudine on a rare day off from work when something caught your eye in a window display. You stopped to get a better look.

Apparently, the town’s corsetier had gotten a new fabric in. In the window was a lacy, golden corset with gilded paisley designs all around the panels. Upon seeing it, the first thing that came to mind was that the fabric’s deep yellow reminded you distinctly of your partner’s golden eyes and the rest of his matching ensemble.

The second thing was that a clothing item of that high of quality was bound to be terribly expensive.

Claudine stopped beside you, looking to see what had gotten your attention. When she saw the corset, she elbowed you with a cheeky grin.

“Are you looking to buy a present for Monsieur le Comte?” She teased. “It does look rather like his coat, now that I think about it. That, and your wedding is coming up soon, isn’t it? Maybe a little something for your wedding night?”

You blushed at Claudine’s teasing. “Well…”

Before you could say anything else, Claudine took your arm. “Come on! You should at least try it on!”

Claudine then all but dragged you into the store. You briefly considered if Claudine was somehow related to your vampiric lover as she proceeded to pull more and more things off of the corsetier’s shelves. The shop owner had even started to help, grabbing things she had stored in the back as well.

Three hours later, you and Claudine were leaving the corsetier’s with your arms full of wrapped clothing.

How on Earth does this happen with everyone you know?! Do you just attract people with bottomless pockets and a proclivity for fashion?!

“See, I told you it would look great on you! I bet Monsieur le Comte will agree once he sees it, too,” she whispered conspiratorially. “Though, with how you’ve described him in private, he’d be more apt to tell you he prefers to see it on the floor.”

You swatted at her arm and hissed at her. “Claudine!”

She just laughed as you both headed to call for a carriage home.

This seemed like a great idea when discussing the prospect with Claudine. Even though she had teased you about it, the girl really did have fantastic advice.

Usually.

Right now, you were wondering why you had even agreed to it? Maybe it was just her hyping you up, for lack of a better term?

You were in Comte’s room, looking at your reflection in his large standing mirror, wearing the new golden corset you had brought home alongside a pair of white silk stockings and a matching golden garter belt.

You didn’t even know they made those in this era.

Well, the history of lingerie had to start somewhere, you supposed.

You eyed your reflection with a frown, turning this way and that to see all of the other angles. You felt like it looked better in the store than it did on your body.

Well, at least Comte wasn’t home yet. He had gone out earlier, stating he had a meeting with a florist regarding your wedding. You had petulantly asked why he was going without you, and he had just kissed your nose affectionately and replied, “It’s a surprise for ma fiancée.”

You sighed, sitting down on his bed. Well, you supposed you should take it off before he gets home, and tuck it away so deep in the closet that he’d never even realize you had brought it home.

Before you could get too far down that line of thought, however, you heard familiar footsteps coming down the hall. You looked at one of the many clocks around the room in panic, realizing it was far later than you had thought. Quickly improvising, you grabbed for the nearest article of clothing you could find - one of Comte’s button down shirts - and tossed it on, slipping under the sheets of his bed and pretending to be asleep.

As soon as your head hit the pillow, the door had creaked open. You fought the urge to open your eyelids, instead listening to Comte’s shoes tap against the wooden floors of his bedroom. You heard the sound of his coat shuffling and the telltale click of his tie’s latch.

His footsteps quietened, likely as soon as he noticed you in his bed, and he carefully toed to the side of it.

“Oh, mon amour,” he murmured. “I wasn’t gone for that long.” His hand lightly brushed against your shoulder. Rather than continue to pretend to be asleep like you had for the fourth birthday you had spent with him - you unconsciously squeezed your thighs together at the memory - you rolled over onto your side and looked up at him.

“I wasn’t asleep yet,” you replied quietly.

“Good. I’m glad I didn’t wake you.” He smiled, but then his brow furrowed and he ran a thumb along your cheekbone. “But what’s wrong, ma chérie? Did me going to the florist without you upset you that terribly?” The pad of his thumb traced under your eye. “I’m sorry, mon amour. I’ll take you with me next time, if it pleases you.”

Oh.

He thought you were upset because of him, even though that couldn’t be further from the truth.

You sighed self-deprecatingly. “Abel, it’s nothing you did,” you murmured. “I’m sorry if it seemed that way. It’s just,” you trailed off. He looked relieved that he hadn’t been the one to cause your upset, but also worried as to what it could have been. “Claudine and I went shopping today, and well..”

“Well?” He prompted, thumb still gently massaging under your eye. Your heart melted. You did not deserve this man.

“It sounded like a good idea, when I was with her, and she said it looked great, but… I got home and tried it on again and I didn’t like it as much when I was by myself.”

Comte’s hand moved to your neck, caressing the flesh there with the back of his hand in an attempt to provide comfort. “If Claudine told you it looked good on you, I’m sure it did,” Comte reassured you. “She’s got wonderful taste in fashion.”

“Are you sure you’re not related to her?” You asked with a huff. “I swear you’re both the same.”

“If we’re the same, and she liked it, then I’m sure I will too,” Comte pointed out with an amused smile. “Can I see whatever it is?” He took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

You hesitated. It would be a waste not to, but… “Promise me you won’t laugh?”

“I promise,” he replied instantly, without an ounce of hesitation. You sighed and started to get up, Comte moving from the side of the bed to give you room. When the sheets fell away from your body you heard his sharp intake of breath.

He hadn’t noticed you were wearing one of his shirts.

You bit your lip, hesitating again. Your eyes drifted up to his face and you saw him swallow thickly.

He likes seeing you in his shirts. You mentally filed that note away for later. Maybe you should invest in a notebook like Sebas’, but for the things Comte liked?

Shaking your head to clear it and taking a deep breath, you turned to face him and slowly started to unbutton the shirt. As the golden fabric of the corset started to peek through you saw the look on Comte’s face change dramatically.

Comte did a double take. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. He looked positively stunned. “I’m sorry, is it too much? I was going to take it off before you got home, but-” You started to say, moving to button the shirt back up, but you were quickly cut off by le Comte taking two long strides forward, gathering you in his arms, and kissing you deeply.

“It looks beautiful on you, chérie. Everything does, but,” he caressed your cheek. “Tu es belle in my colors, mon amour. It makes me want to ravish you wholly.” He leaned in for another hungry kiss. You couldn’t help but push yourself even closer to him, kissing him back with just as much fervor.

His hands slid down your sides and settled on your hips, pulling you towards him. He ground against you harshly, his clothed erection rubbing against your stomach.

Comte pulled away from you slightly, just enough to speak. “Can you feel how turned on you make me, mon amour? Just by existing?” He leaned in for another kiss, his tongue pushing into your mouth possessively. His hands drifted further down, cupping your ass and squeezing appreciatively. He made to lift you and you hopped up, your legs wrapping around his waist. He carried you over to the bed you had just vacated and set you down, never breaking the kiss. Comte leaned in over you, caging you between him and the bed.

“Tell me, Princesse, why did you not like it?” He asked, tearing himself away from you just long enough to start to unbutton his own shirt.

You swallowed hard. “Well, I just… I haven’t worn anything like this before.”

Comte gave you a devilish smirk, his fangs peeking over his bottom lip, the sight shooting straight to your core. “I want to see more of it. You know how I so love dressing you up, ma chérie. And undressing you after.” His voice was a deep, seductive purr. “It’s like unwrapping a present specifically made for me.”

How was this man so ridiculously sexy in everything he did? It was unfair!

“But next time,” he continued, “Because there will be a next time; I want to be the only one to see you in it. Not even Claudine or the corsetier,” he whispered, tossing his shirt off and returning his hands to your thighs, his fingers digging into the plush flesh there. He leaned in and kissed you again, just as hungrily as the last few times. You moaned into his mouth and he eagerly swallowed every sound you made.

Comte’s fingers slid between your thighs, gently teasing your folds. You gasped into his mouth and he pulled away, a thin trail of saliva connecting your mouths.

“No panties? Such a naughty girl, ma chérie,” he chuckled lowly. The sound sent a shiver down your spine. Right now the look on Comte’s face was positively predatory. It turned you on more than you’d care to admit.

The vampire leaned back in for another greedy kiss, his hands continuing to fondle and swipe along the delicate skin between your thighs, spreading the moisture around. His lips trailed to the side of your neck, mouthing over the skin there.

Comte could smell the sweet scent of your blood pulsing through your veins, the aroma intoxicating. His mouth watered and his fangs began to ache. You were so eager, so trusting; it would be so easy to -

No, not yet. That would be another, far more special occasion.

Instead, Comte sucked hard on your neck. Your back arched like a taut bowstring, crying out at the feeling. He left behind a bright red mark, the color a startling contrast against your skin.

“You’re beautiful,” Comte mouthed against your skin. “In everything you wear. In everything you do.” His lips moved to the center of your throat and he nipped lightly at the skin there too. His fingers were still between your legs, toying with your labia. He kept his fingers from dipping too closely to where you wanted, though; instead choosing to tease you. A punishment, perhaps.

Comte pulled away from the column of your throat, looking you directly in the eyes. His golden irises were smoldering with a deep, intense heat. “But I don’t like the idea that someone else picked out the things you wear for me. The only one that should see you like this is me.” You inhaled sharply at the possessive bite of his words.

He leaned in towards the laces on the front of the corset. You watched as he took the laces between his teeth and bit sharply at them, his fangs easily snipping through the cording. He slipped his fingers from between your legs and ripped the remainder of the corset off your body, tossing it haphazardly onto the wooden flooring. At the same time, his lips made contact with the flesh of your side and you whined at the teasing.

“Abel, this was expensive!”

“I’ll get you a new one,” he murmured against your flesh. “I’ll buy out the whole store. I’ll have the corsetier make you a custom one in every single color you desire. You know price isn’t an issue for me.” He lightly nipped at the skin of your side, his lips trailing up to your breast. He dragged the tip of his fang across the beaded peak of your nipple, causing you to gasp and your hips to buck involuntarily. “But I’ll be the only one to ever see you in them.”

Comte kissed down your abdomen, your stomach tensing at the feeling. He dragged his tongue across the skin of your hips, pressing a kiss there, and then he took ahold of one of your golden silk garters with his teeth and sharply jerked his head, tearing the fabric clean from your skin. He kissed the top of your thigh and slid the accompanying stocking off your leg before doing the same to the other side.

Comte’s fingers trailed back between your thighs, gliding through your wetness and across the sensitive flesh. His lips kissed back up to your breasts and he returned his attention to your hardened nipple. You whimpered as he ghosted a finger over your sensitive clit, still avoiding giving you the pressure you sought.

“Abel, stop teasing me,” you breathed, your breath hitching as his finger just barely touched against your clit. He dragged his finger towards your aching opening, lightly circling it, just shy of penetrating you.

“Teasing you?” He asked with mock innocence, his tongue flicking against your nipple. “I’m not teasing you. I’m punishing you, chérie.” Comte bit harshly at the rosy bud and you cried out, a mix of pain, pleasure, and surprise catching you off guard. He slipped a single knuckle’s length inside of you. “You’re so wet for me. You like being punished like this? Naughty girl.”

He turned his attention onto your other breast, taking the peak of that one into his mouth and sucking harshly. Your back arched, your hand threading through his golden hair and tugging lightly. “Please, Abel,” you whined. “I need you.”

He released your nipple with a soft pop and leaned back. He hummed in thought, slipping his fingers from between your legs. You whimpered in protest. “I’m not sure. Have you learned your lesson, ma chérie?”

“Yes,” you breathed out. Your other hand grasped ahold of your abused breast, squeezing it in desperation for some stimulation.

Comte exhaled harshly at the sight, his tongue trailing along the tip of a fang. His golden eyes were completely focused on you.

“Tell me what you learned,” he commanded, voice deep with want. His hands fell to the waist of his pants and he started to unfasten them, waiting for your response.

Your eyes drifted down his form and settled on his hands, biting your lip and watching his movements.

“Answer me, chérie, or this ends here,” he warned, but he didn’t stop. He palmed himself through his trousers, groaning at the contact.

You were half tempted to call his bluff, but you wanted him to touch you far too much to take a chance on him being serious. You were still wanting to tease him, though, as payback for what he had been doing to you. “I learned that I’m yours,” you started, your free hand slowly moving down your stomach.

“You should have already known that,” Comte said. His gaze was fixed on your hand. “Continue.”

“I learned that you can be a complete and utter tease,” you breathed, your fingers dipping into your own wetness. You sighed at the contact, even if it wasn’t what you wanted.

In an instant, Comte had shed his pants and was back on top of you, pinning your wrists beside you, the tip of his hard cock pressing lightly against your folds. You gasped in surprise.

“You’re calling me a tease, while you do something like that, and you smell as delicious as you do,” He purred dangerously. “Answer me seriously, chérie. What have you learned?” He rolled his hips just enough to part your wet labia, the head of his cock dragging against your clit. You moaned.

“I learned that you’re possessive,” you managed to bite out. “And you don’t like others seeing me in lingerie.”

Comte leaned forward and kissed you, angling his hips to where the head of his cock slipped just barely inside your entrance. You gasped in to the kiss and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth. He broke away slightly, panting. “Good girl. I’ve got one more lesson to teach you,” Comte murmured. He released your wrists, grabbing ahold of your thighs instead as he pushed inside of you the rest of the way.

You couldn’t help but moan as he filled you, his cock dragging deliciously against the neglected walls of your pussy. “Abel,” you whimpered as he started to slowly rock his hips against yours, giving you time to adjust to the intrusion. The time was hardly necessary; you were dripping wet the moment he started to touch you. Your hands roamed the smooth skin of his chest, brushing against the hard ridges of his pectorals.

Comte picked up the pace, thrusting into your heat insistently. “The last lesson,” the vampire said, “Is that I am the only one that will ever make you feel like this.” He punctuated his sentence with a particularly harsh thrust, making you cry out. “You are mine, chérie, in every way; and I need you to know that.”

Comte grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him, your lower legs resting over his forearms as he bent over top of you. He crashed his lips against yours in a searing kiss, rutting into your depths like a man possessed. His pubic bone rhythmically brushed against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You whimpered into his mouth and he swallowed every sound you made.

Comte adjusted one of your legs, wrapping it around his hip. With his now free-hand he rubbed his fingers against your clit in small, concise circles. He broke the kiss and whispered against your lips, “Come for me, pretty girl. My beautiful girl.”

The combined stimulation of his cock, nestled deep inside of you, and his fingers swirling around the sensitive apex of your thighs, sent you tumbling off the edge with a cry. Your inner walls clenched harshly around Comte’s length and he swore, burying his face in your neck, his hips stuttering as he came. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you, a new warmth filling your core as he thrust inside of you four more times before stilling.

Comte’s fangs brushed against the skin of your neck as he panted. One of your hands found its way into his hair and you combed through the strands as you both tried to catch your breath. After a few minutes, he pressed a kiss to your collarbone and sat up. He pulled his half-hard cock from your warmth with a hiss, the sensitivity causing both of you to jerk.

Comte leaned back in for another kiss, more gentle this time. “Un moment, mon amour,” he whispered against your lips. He stepped away and returned momentarily with a towel. Comte parted your legs and gently brushed against your folds, cleaning away your mixed fluids. After wiping himself down as well Comte slid into bed next to you, draping an arm around your waist. You snuggled into him and he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Are you okay?” He asked. “Was that okay?”

You hummed in response, a yawn escaping your mouth. Comte chuckled and pulled you closer to him, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “Go to sleep, chérie. I’ll tell Sebastian not to expect you at work in the morning. Je t’aime.” He rolled over onto his back so you could settle half on top of him like you preferred to.

You made yourself comfortable, one hand resting on his chest. His arms automatically wrapped around you, holding you close to him. You yawned again. “Abel?” you asked sleepily. “I learned something else today.”

Comte blinked in surprise, but smiled gently. “What was it?”

“I also learned that you love me,” you murmured, trailing your fingers down his arm affectionately.

He raised an eyebrow. “Was that ever truly in question, mon amour?”

You shook your head. “No, not really; but you were so sweet when you thought I was upset with you. And when you realized it was my insecurities, you were even sweeter.” You cuddled closer to him, your nose against his neck. “Thank you. For loving me.”

Comte sighed, tightening his arms around you and pulling you even closer to him.

“I will always love you, chérie; for all of eternity, in every way shape and form.” His fingers brushed up and down your arm. “I should be thanking you for loving me.”

The only response he got was your soft breaths. He huffed out a laugh, careful not to wake you. He was used to you falling asleep on him after he made love to you.

That’s okay.

He’d tell you how much he loved you when you woke up.

And he’d tell you every day for the rest of eternity, and every day beyond.

You saw Claudine again three days after.

“So, did le Comte like the corset?” Claudine asked cheekily.

You just blushed.

Dividers by @/natimiles

Taglist: @natimiles @queengiuliettafirstlady @candiedcoffeedrops @goddesswitchmother @candied-boys

@fang-and-feather @faustianfascination

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp comte #ikemen vampire comte #ikevamp fanfic #ikemen vampire fanfic #kinktober 2024 #cybird ikemen #ikemen series #mdni

24 notes · View notes

siriuslysmoking · 1 year ago

Text

Taking the Kids to See Santa with Steve

A/N: Day 11!!! WHOOP WHOOP! Core memories was going to see santa as a kid. Steve and Reader have 4 kids, oldest is a boy names Theo, then Amelia, then the twin girls Octavia and Kya

"Daddy! Daddy! Hurry!!" Theo shouts, tugging on Steve's hand.

"Hold on bud." Steve lets out a laugh, looking back at you where you are with the stroller. Small arms hold onto your leg as you walk, pushing the stroller with the twins. The six year old boy continues to tug on his father's arm as Steve calls for Amelia.

She detaches herself from your side and joins her older brother and father.

You take a picture of Steve hand in hand with your children passing the North Pole sign.

The six of you came from a nice dinner with Steve's side of the family.

Since you were all in nice clothing you decided to get in the queue for meeting santa. Your group traveled around the store wasting time. But when Theo and Amy saw the snow covered elf houses no one could hold them back. Your twin girls in the stroller stared at the shiny lights decorating the ceiling.

You agreed with Steve to wait in line with the twins while he explored Santa's Workshop with the two older kids.

You rock the stroller back and forth watching your two kids drag your husband back and forth through the shop.

Steve joins you in line about ten minutes later when you are third in line. "Hey love, long time no see."

You kiss him lightly, smiling into the kiss. WHen you get to second in line you get the Kya and Octavia out of the stroller, holding them in both yous and Steve's arms.

Your two older kids run up to Santa and sit on his lap, You and Steve set the girls into their older siblings arms, making sure they're secure before moving away for the photo. "Now what would you like for christmas?"

"A dollhouse." Amy smiles up at the man, he looks to Theo who quietly says, "A brother."

You and Steve barely hear it, but when you do you both share a look and a smile.

Taglist: @bunnyweasley23 @foolpr00f @arinexeisnotworking

#stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things s4 #steve harrington x plus sized reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrigton x reader #steve harrington smut #steve x plus size reader #steve harrington x plus size!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #FICMAS #dad!steve harrington #dad steve harrington #dad!steve x mom!reader

119 notes · View notes

bitterbutblue · 3 months ago

Text

august 1998

~ hii guys sorry for dying! but here is the first chapter to our new series for all our robin lovers, called remember me, 1999! ermm in case u guys r confused where this is set the answer is unclear its a fun little combination of east asia cultures

summer evening is perfect for falling in love, right? so let me show you a world you've long lost before.

tw asian parents idk~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

The familiar ding! of the bell hanging above the door has you heaving out another sigh as you put down the book you were reading, looking up to see whichever customer had walked through the door. An old man- was he here yesterday? He came here once in a while, always got a pack of sweets and cigarettes. You don't ask him much, you always just smiled at him. But today he only gets the cigarettes and you decide it's just best not to ask.

"Thank you."

The gravelly voice cuts through the humid air, hitting you with this chill you can't quite put your finger on but you just nod, swallowing.

"You're welcome. Have a good day."

Scoffing, the man turns to leave and you wonder what you did to piss him off but whatever. With an eyeroll, you lay your head down on the countertop again, flipping open a new magazine to find something entertaining. The flashy photographs of random celebrities really didn't catch your eye, nor were you fully interested in it. But what else can you do when your mom asks you to man the countertop of the convenience store instead of letting you go out with your friends for like, the eigth time this week?

"Again?"

The cheeky voice is like a disruption of your silence, but you can't stop the feeling of your heart leaping slightly.

"Shut up, Stelle."

A tall figure walks in, throwing a bag over the counter and you feel it plop down right next to you as she moves to lean against the counter.

"Seriously, you never go out anymore."

"I'd love to be able to, seriously. How about you ask my mom and tell her to let me out?"

"Oh please." Stelle scoffs "I'd rather jump off a bridge than confront your mom."

You look up, head propped up against the palm of your hand as you eye the girl up and down, a suspicious feeling growing in your gut.

"What's in the bag? Why are you here?"

"Summer's almost over. Bag's full of the stuff I borrowed from you earlier. I just finished delivering newspapers." She shrugs "Got nothing to do now. March is busy. Dan Heng is... god knows where he is."

"Library?"

"Makes sense."

Pause.

"So you don't need anything?"

"Why would you assume I need something!"

She got way too overprotective, pushing herself off the countertop and staring at you with eyes that just screamed 'oh FUCK'. You groan, burying your head in your arms.

"Again?"

"Please, it's the last time I’ll ask you to come with me!”

Another familiar ding, a customer walks in and Stelle pipes down. Her voice quieter, but still holding the same pleading tone as she now throws in the bonus puppy-dog eyes that have you cringing in disgust every time physically but inside you hated how it made you feel rather... warm.

"Please?"

"Oh fuck you, fine." You curse, shoving Stelle away as she whoops and cheers, pushing herself off the counter and you shush her before the customer starts seriously judging you two. "So am I meeting you at 8?"

"Yeah! Same as always, my house. Love you! You're the best!" She calls out as she dashes out the door, the bell ringing through the now empty store once more. You don't realise you're smiling until your face drops at the voice behind you.

"She's always so eager."

You turn around at the sound of your mother's voice, not saying anything as she helps the customer pay for their snacks.

"You shouldn't get distracted-"

"I know, I won't." You mumble "I've been looking at universities already, I swear."

"You apply next year, don't fool around." She warns, her purple eyes narrowing at the magazine in your hands, and you feel a stirring irritation in your stomach you try to suppress. "School's in two days. Pull yourself together."

"Yes ma'am." You mumble as you stuff the magazine under the counter, moving away.

"You have training tomorrow, by the way!" She calls out after you as you head out the door, and you just do throw a thumbs up over your shoulder before shoving the door open.

The humid air hits you before anything else and you half-regret leaving the safety of your very much cool and well ventilated shop that your mom runs. You huff, forcing yourself to walk up the hill across the street up to where Stelle resides as the sun begins to set over the view of the city over the railings. You take in the sight, the city tucking the now-tired sun in for the night as the moon prepares itself for another day of watching over the city. Watching over you.

Stelle had always told you about wanting to travel beyond the skies one day, and you've always just laughed at her or teased her for her antics but you can't shake off this twinge in your chest as she discusses what lies beyond the stars. The idea of growing up haunts you, every day feels like a ticking time bomb and you feel like it's about to implode inside you. Lost in your thoughts, you feel your eyes glaze over slightly as you just move your body, one foot forward, another foot forward, another-

"Hey!"

A sharp tug on the back of your shirt has you letting out a choked cry as you stumble back. With your left foot tripping over your right, you fall to the ground with a dull thud, a searing pain shooting up your back as you land comedically onto your butt.

"What the fuck-"

Roaring, a car speeds by along with a gust of wind that slaps you right across the face. You scramble to your feet, pushing yourself away from the edge of the road you hadn't even realised you reached.

"Are you okay?"

A soft voice next to you causes you to flinch slightly, turning around with a quick whip of the head.

The girl that stood in front of you adorns the greenest eyes you've ever seen, like a lake on a summer day. The same green eyes you saw almost every day as a child, lilac hair now much longer and a shade darker.

Maybe it is best to pretend to not recognise her.

"I'm fine. Thanks." You say hoarsely, quickly getting up onto your feet. You wince at the quick movement, feeling the sharp pain on your lower back and you just know there's gonna be a bruise forming there tomorrow.

"Y/n?"

"Yep. Nice seeing you again, Robin."

You straighten up, looking the girl dead in the eyes now. She looks much more mature, but to be fair the last time you saw her, she was nine. She holds herself with the same elegance and grace, in a way you never could do yourself. She's still the same child you played with at the park, that you saw after school, that you shared snacks with on the swings. You never thought you'd see her again after that day. You never thought you'd want to talk to her after that day but-

"What are you doing here?" You ask awkwardly, shifting your weight from one foot to another. Her face darkens slightly, shock fading into a look that you can't fully decipher.

"I live here now. I just had a meeting with the school."

You take a small step back, taking in her full appearance. She's wearing school uniform- your school's uniform with the same badge adorned on the left patch pocket.

"You- what? I thought you moved to the states."

"Things happened." Her tone seemed much sharper, much more strained now. She looks at you in a way that makes you feel like apologising for no reason and it's very unsettling.

She was nothing like the Robin you knew.

But it's been years.

"I'm sorry."

A soft look quickly returns to her eyes as she shakes her head, holding her hands out in front of her apologetically.

"Ah- that was too harsh, wasn't it? I'm sorry. I just don't like talking about it."

"It's alright, I'm sorry for asking."

Silence fills the space as you awkwardly look around you- taking in each tree and each rock, each flower that blooms, anything but her.

"I'll see you around?"

"Probably."

Robin nods, shooting you a soft smile that you think hasn't changed since she left, before walking down the path you came from.

"Fuck."

Out of all people to have saved you from a speeding car, you didn't expect it to be your childhood best friend who left to the US one day. Out of everyone, she was the last person you expected to see back in the city. Something must've happened that brought her back, and it was best not to pry.

Stelle is still waiting for you, so you quickly make your way up the rest of the hill, crossing the road that almost killed you before reaching her house.

"Bitch, what took you so long?"

You fight the urge to throw a rock at her when she opens the door.

"I ran into Robin."

Her eyes widened.

"Robin? The Robin who left before middle school started?”

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t she in the states? I thought her family was loaded.”

“Who knows” You shrug, kicking off your shoes as you step into her house, Stelle moving aside quickly before shutting the door. “What’s the plan for tonight?”

“Same as before. We can just sneak in through the back up to the roof.”

“Why can’t you do this yourself?”

“You’re telling me you don’t want to see the full moon at it's brightest? Come on!" Stelle groans, throwing herself onto you. You wince, stumbling forward with a small smile on your face as you shove her off you. Stelle shoots you a grin, indicating how she's fully aware of how she's succeeded already. "Oh, you wanna see it so bad."

"I don't! I'm just coming to spend time with my friend." You mumble softly.

Stelle's favourite place to go to was this abandoned building that was technically off limits and would be trespassing if they were ever caught, but she loves seeing the stars from that building so you always accompanied her because you can't deny how beautiful the sky can look even on the days where it's believed to be bad. You can't deny

"Yeah yeah, whatever." She takes your hand, pulling you into her room. You just follow her as she throws the door open to reveal her messy room. A small room, made even more cramped with how she throws her stuff around. Clothes strewn across the floor and books stacked in places it shouldn't be stacked in. The actual bookshelf itself is neglected, filled with random junk Stelle definitely has not touched since she was twelve- and one too many raccoon figurines.

She moves to pull out a backpack that was hidden beneath her pile of clothes, opening it up widely and moving to stuff a blanket inside alongside a notebook and whatever else Stelle needs on her astrology days.

"Should we bring snacks?"

"We're not watching a fucking movie."

"Might as well be." She shrugs, throwing a bag of chips into her bag as well before zipping it up "You hungry? I have leftovers in the fridge."

"I'm good." You nudge some of her clothes away with your foot to clear a space on the floor for you to sit down as she throws herself onto the bed with a grin.

"I'm so excited."

"If I get kicked off the archery team, I'm fucking you up."

"If we get caught, kicking you off the team would be the least of your concerns."

The only sound echoing through the nights was the sound of cars zooming by on the street across the old, abandoned building, and the cicadas singing under the lamp lights. The peaceful sound of a summer evening coming to its end is so graciously ruined by Stelle kicking down the back door to the staircase up to the roof.

"That was so unnecessary." You hiss as she tugs your sleeve, motioning for you to follow her up. You sit on the edge of the roof as Stelle sets up her equipment.

"Shut up. I looked cool as fuck."

"No you didn't."

As the headlights of cars zoomed by like laser pointers on a map, you take in the last of the summer days- the cool evening air brushing by and your heart is racing in your chest. The thrill of your feet dangling over the edge, the thrill of this moment with Stelle, the thrill of falling. You breath in deeply, letting out an audible sigh as you look up at the starry night. It's rare to get such clear nights, and you really would rather not be anywhere else.

"Dude, come take a look."

Quickly, you turn to move yourself off the edge as you walk over to Stelle's telescope set up. It was a rusty thing, something she got at a yard sale but she fixed it up herself with duct tape and whatever screws she could find. It creaks whenever she adjusts it and looks like it's on it's last limbs but she loves it with her whole heart. You can't help but swallow slightly when you take in the sight of her, grinning like an excited child in her oversized tee with a fiery look in her eyes that you only see in the dark when the stars are out.

Looking into the telescope, you smile. The moon itself isn't very clear, and given the status of the telescope you understand why. But its beauty still somehow prevails through it all.

"Looks nice."

"That's it?"

Stelle scoffs, pulling you away from the telescope as she quickly moves to look back at it.

"It's perfect."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You stand next to her, watching her as she looks through the telescope with the softest smile on her face as she mumbles whatever astrological science stuff to herself. The way she's been making you feel for the past couple weeks has you feeling sick to your stomach, because you know you're not supposed to look at your best friend like that.

The sound of a door creaking open has the two of you whipping your heads around to the source of the sound- fuck, did someone see you sitting on the roof?

Stelle looked like she was about to bolt for it until the person behind the door walks out, revealing the girl you saw earlier today. Revealing Robin.

"Oh, I didn't realise people were here."

Her voice is quiet, softer than it was earlier today. You just sorta nod at her and Stelle's eyes widen.

"Robin?"

"Hello. You're...?"

"Stelle, same fourth grade class?"

"Ah, right."

It's terribly awkward.

"You're not actually allowed to be here."

"You're here too."

"Ah, right."

Stelle looks away, clearing her throat as she looks at you desperately, clearly wanting you to take over the conversation before it goes wrong.

"Stelle just likes dragging me up here for the stars." You say softly, gesturing at the telescope "Why are you here?"

"Needed space." Robin shrugs, not looking at you, but at the telescope. "It's suffocating at home. I've been coming here for a bit the past few days. I don't know why I'm telling you all this, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise." Stelle smiles, and Robin forces a smile back. It feels weird knowing that you can't read her as well now, even though frankly it doesn't matter. "Wanna take a look?"

She just hesitates, looking to you before looking back at Stelle.

"It's okay. Sorry for intruding."

Before you can even say anything, Robin closes the door- leaving you and Stelle alone on the rooftop once more.

"She's different."

"It's been nine years."

Stelle shrugs.

"I know, but still. Change is weird."

"You've changed, haven't you?" You raise an eyebrow

"I guess. I don't see it though." Stelle fiddles with a part of the telescope that's sticking out "Have I changed?"

"Of course. From when I met you to now, yeah. But it's just hard to recognise exactly what the change is."

"Hm."

Stelle just leans back down to look at the moon.

"The moon changes once in a while to us, but at it's core it's always the same."

"Philosophical bitch." You grin, shoving her lightly as she laughs. And in this moment you want to take a photo of her smile under the beam of the moonlight, the last days before you're thrown back to a cycle of endless burdens and weights. The last days where you can just smile at the stars too.

Days pass by like hours when you can barely register your own thoughts. You find yourself standing with a backpack and archery bag in hand, standing right in front of the convenience store door as your mom crosses her arms.

"You need to-"

"Yes, I will talk to my coach about the competitions."

"And the-"

"Yes, I'll talk to Ms. Ruan Mei about the bonus credits in second semester."

Your mom heaves out a sigh, nodding.

"Good."

You don't look back at her, feeling her gaze on your back as she steps forward.

"Please start taking this seriously."

You grip the bag in your hand tightly.

"I have been."

You hear her footsteps, before her hand rests on your shoulders. You fight the urge to tense up.

"I'm just looking out for you." She whispers "I don't want you to end up like me."

You swallow.

"I know."

People are walking to school, shooting you weird looks and you notice a flash of lilac before your mother steps into view, forcing you to look into her eyes.

"I love you."

"Love you too." You mumble, looking down.

"Ms. Yukong?"

The voice has you frowning as your mother looks up in confusion, turning around.

"Robin!"

Robin smiles her perfect-girl smile.

"It's been so long, how are you?"

"I'm good." She nods "Transferring back is a large step, so I hope adjustment will be alright."

You just stand there, fingernails digging into your palms as the weight of your backpack starts a slight ache in your lower back but your mother talks and talks, and Robin smiles and responds happily in a way that you didn't see her doing earlier with you.

"Mom, I need to go. Robin, we'll be late."

"Right, yes. Please remember to ask-"

"I will! I will." You didn't mean to snap but fuck, that was the last straw. Robin hesitates at the sound of your harsh voice, looking between you and your mom quickly before bidding farewell with a polite half-bow.

"Why did you come up?" You hiss quietly at her as soon as your mother is out of ear-shot "Seriously?"

"What? You looked so uncomfortable, I was just trying to help." Robin whispers back as you both walk up the hill you almost got ran over yesterday.

"I don't need help." You grunt as you heave your bag onto your shoulder.

"Sorry."

The two of you just walk up in silence, chatter echoing around you but the two of you stay silent. The entire walk has you feeling like the bag on your back is growing heavier, and by the time you reach the school you feel exhausted. Your muscles ache, and you feel the searing pain of the strap of the backpack digging into your shoulders as you gently drop your archery bag down onto the ground.

"God. Fuck. This is a terrible start." You curse to yourself as you catch your breath. You feel this presence standing next to you, and you look up to see Robin just looking down, staring at you. "What are you looking at?"

"Uh- well." Robin shifts slightly, playing with a ring on her finger "I'm technically new, so... where do I go?"

You want to say no. You want to walk away from her.

"Follow me." You grit your teeth, picking up the bag. "We're taking a detour first. What class are you in?"

"4A."

Oh, just great. Same as yours.

"Wonderful." You mumble as you shove your bodyweight against the door to the locker rooms, throwing your archery bag in there before leading her out. "We're upstairs. I'll let you talk to Ms. Ruan Mei."

By the time you arrive, Stelle has already sat down in her usual seat, an empty one next to you. Her smile fades into a look of shock when she sees Robin walk in next to your very much disgruntled looking form.

"Robin?"

"Hi, Stelle."

You force a smile at Stelle.

"It's gonna be great. Great year. Just wonderful."

#remember me #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr robin #honkai star rail fanfic #hsr fanfic #robin #hsr robin x reader #honkai star rail robin

35 notes · View notes

souperbloom · 10 months ago

Note

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR3Bwg74/ yesssss sir🫡

i know where your head’s at anon. trust me.

the tiktok of ash talking crazy during the valentine genius interview can be found here.

————

cherry pie. [A.I.]

🍒 boyfriend!ash

valentine’s day smut. tee hee.

a/n: happy belated valentine’s day soup nation <3 sorry for my inactivity. school has been whooping my ass but i promise ill be back soon ! :3

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut!, oral (f!receiving), pet names, overstim.

WORDCOUNT: 2.5k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

It wouldn’t take long for Ashton to figure out what your Valentine’s Day surprise held in store.

Your body, at his disposal, splayed out on his plush king-sized mattress; dressed head to toe in red lace and satin. You were like a gift-wrapped present, tied up with a little red bow.

It was everything you’d been dreaming about since the moment you saw that little red set in the window of your local lingerie shop. The perfect surprise for the most perfect boy.

"Ash, baby?" you call into the distance as you hear the shower turn off from the master bathroom.

After dinner, you told Ashton you’d rather head home and unwind, as opposed to going out and getting an after-dessert drink. And of course, despite putting up a bit of a fuss about it, your boyfriend agreed.

You told him to hop in the shower and get ready for bed: setting the expectation that there’d be no sugar tonight, and all you really wanted to do was cuddle in bed and watch a movie.

The disappointment laced through his features when you told him what you wanted from him was quite obvious. But since he had fussed enough about not going to the bar, he figured a little less bitching would do him some good on this special day.

It was hard enough for you to bite back your smile while lying in his face, already knowing what would be waiting for him after his shower.

"Yeah?" He finally replies from the bathroom, the echo of his voice bouncing off of the tiles and into your ears.

"You comin’ in soon?" you ask, hints of innocence in your question as you adjust your position to fit the steamy energy you were trying to exude.

"Yeah, yeah— gimme a minute. I’ll be out before you know it, sugar.”

You couldn’t see it, but you could practically hear the smile that sprawled across his face within his lewd reply. He knew how much you adored that nickname.

Maybe he had a better clue than you thought.

A few more minutes pass you by, subtly quiet music streaming from the TV filling you with anticipation. You couldn’t want to see the look on his face when he walked out to you like this. It took you long enough to find a set of lingerie as perfect as this one; only to have to speedily change into it the moment you heard the faucet turn on.

"Baby," you whine, faux impatience woven into your tone, "M’gettin’ tired."

You hear Ashton scoff playfully, slightly seeing his bare silhouette through the mirror as he takes a towel to his head to dry his hair off.

"I’m coming, I’m coming—" he coos, the towel still covering his head as he begins to whistle.

You dip your head back into the pillows for a moment, letting out a satisfied sigh. Seeing his body in the mirror was already getting you hot and bothered, not to mention the button-down shirt and leopard print jacket combo he had decided on wearing to dinner tonight. The thought of him drove you wild; and you were more than happy to submit to that.

Soon enough, Ashton emerges from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and tucked into itself, accentuating his physique. Along with the other towel that was still on his head, causing him to lead himself back into the bedroom blindly.

"So I was thinking we could watch—"

His thought stops in its’ tracks the moment he slides the towel off of his head.

"—Holy shit."

When his eyes meet yours, they double in size instantly. There’s a longing in his gaze, as if seeing you whipped him through the space-time continuum and barely brought him back down to Earth.

"Oh, baby," he hums, his eyes continuing their journey down your body and taking you in, in all of your crimson, lace glory, "You’re too good t’me."

"Happy Valentine’s Day, Ash," you purr, running a seductive hand up your thigh and letting your index finger collect the fabric of your satin slip.

"My God. What am I to do with you, sugar? Wrapped up all pretty n’ nice for me… Fuck, you’re wearing the hell outta’ that thing, baby…"

His lovesick babbling continues as he nears the bed, dipping his knee down into the mattress. Your eyes still lingered on him, bottom lip caught between your teeth as the two of you have an erotic stare down.

"Do whatever you want t’me. This is your gift, after all." Your coy smile grows wider as he slowly starts to crawl towards you.

"Whatever I want, you say?" He repeats your question as if the answer wasn’t obvious, "I’m not sure if you’re ready for that."

His body now hovers over yours, savoring his last few glances before he tears you out of this outfit and has his way with you. You knew he’d get you out of it faster than you’d gotten into it.

"I’m ready for anything. I’ve waited all fuckin’ week for this." You giggle up into his sparkly fern eyes as he’s now fully on top of you, eyeing you like you were the last cookie in the cookie jar.

"All week? Jesus, baby… If I knew you were gonna’ get dolled up like this I’d have thrown a Valentine’s Day in January." His playful remark sends a chill down your spine as he takes the back of his hand and caresses your cheek.

"I’d get dolled up every night for you, you know this. Just thought I’d save it for a special occasion."

His hand begins a trail down your collarbone towards your chest, "I had a feeling you were up to somethin’. You had that look in your eye."

You chuckle, trying to ignore the moan threatening to spill from your lips, "What look?"

"The look you have when you’re up to no good. You’re a pretty shit liar," he teases.

"Well, I’d say I pulled this surprise off successfully, shit liar or not— That’s all I was really hoping for."

"Successful is an understatement, sugar. You look sweet enough to eat…" He hooks his finger onto the fabric between your breasts, tugging it down gently. "…Sweet like cherry pie."

Not another moment passes before Ashton is dipping down to wrangle you into a passionate kiss. His hands roam with fervor, feeling the contours of your body with his broad palms and taking breaks to gently squeeze the parts he loves most.

His tongue entwines with yours seamlessly, as he makes a sly effort to grind his hips down between your inviting thighs. You sigh into his mouth, lacing your arms around the back of his neck.

"Fuck me, baby, you’re obscene," he sighs, breaking the kiss momentarily to leave a trail of kisses down your neck towards the valley of your breasts, "Think I might have to have a slice of my cherry pie."

You nod as if to say, ‘duh, Ash', wordlessly consenting to his request. He always aimed to please you, despite sometimes being sent to bed unrewarded. But he was such a good sport about it; you sometimes believed that he preferred giving as opposed to receiving.

Generous. There’s the word for it.

"This outfit is gorgeous," he sighs dreamily between kisses trailing down your stomach, "I feel bad takin’ it off so soon."

You shake your head, an electric current shooting up your body as his kisses start to near towards the apex of your thigh. "Don’t feel bad, it’s served its’ purpose."

"Was it’s ‘purpose’ to drive me insane? Because— it’s doin’ a great job at that."

You shrug playfully, enjoying the fiery path of destruction that this little get-up was causing in your sweet boyfriend’s head. He could barely contain his excitement as he parted your legs, gazing at you hungrily with a smirk. His slender fingers then hook onto waistband of your panties, pulling them down and off of you at a tantalizingly slow speed.

"Gonna give you my hand. Squeeze when it’s too much for you, m’kay?"

You nod down at his mellow smile, and grab his extended hand as he positions himself.

"Mhm."

With a sigh, he caresses your inner thigh gently, taking in the sight of you. It was hard enough to be patient after he had promised something he was sure would drive you crazy; you knew him well, but not well enough.

You were sure he had some tricks up his sleeve.

"’Gonna make you feel so good…"

His gravelly voice trails off as he lowers his mouth to your core, lips hovering inches above where you needed him most. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t growing a bit impatient.

"Yeah?" you taunt, rubbing your thumb in circles over the back of his hand, "You’re all bark, no bite."

He chuckles lowly, still leaving patterns across the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, "And you’re gonna regret having such a smart mouth, sugar."

Without warning, he dips his head down and licks a stripe up your slit, gathering the wetness on his tongue with a sly smile. You groan on impact, naturally, watching his sandy curls scatter across his forehead with his movements.

You almost regretted what you said when he started to prod at your entrance with his tongue, letting his nose do all the work on your clit for him. It felt like a sensory overload; he had always shown his love for pleasuring you but, never to this magnitude.

"Ash, oh fuck—" your words come out choppy, staccato breaths breaking apart each syllable as your free hand flies to grip his hair. He hums into you in reply, the vibration from his baritone voice causing a ripple through his tongue to rip right through your lower half.

You start to writhe above him as his tongue works in tandem with the tip of his nose, all while peering up at you over your silky lace babydoll dress.

"Fuck, baby. F-feels so good," you groan, attempting to keep your eyes from lulling closed. The eye contact between you was far too mesmerizing to pull away from.

Upon hearing your sultry compliment, Ashton begins to move faster. He switches the focus to your sensitive bud, flicking his tongue quickly and causing another wave of pleasure to shoot through your limbs.

His free hand then moves to push up the fabric of your slip, resting his palm flat on your stomach while his mouth moves in circles. Your body lurches forward when he hits a particularly sweet spot, the pleasure almost becoming too much to bear.

You remembered briefly what he had told you about his hand… ‘squeeze when it becomes too much.’

So, you did.

It was too much.

Your heart rate was doubling and it was growing difficult for you to keep the stars away from the backs of your eyelids. You knew you were close to your limit.

But when your grip tightened around his hand—

He didn’t stop.

In fact, he began to move even faster. His eyes shimmered as he peered at you above your hips, watching your jaw fall slack as you’ve now lost any ability to keep your composure.

"Fuck, oh my god. Please—" you beg, mushing into a whining mess, "Ashton, please."

His ears perk up at your exasperated plea, quickly ripping his hand from your grasp and using it to replace his tongue. He pops his head up, upper lip and chin drenched in your juices as he studies you with a pout.

"Can ya’ give me a few more minutes, sugar? Tastes so fuckin’ good…"

As his skilled fingers move in place of his tongue, he makes sure not one moment of your time is unoccupied. He uses his thumb on your clit to draw moans out of the back of your throat; index finger dipping in and out of your entrance.

"B—but… It’s too… too much…" you whimper, interrupted by your own moans betraying you, "M’ so close…"

"Please? I’ll go slow…" Ashton pleads, starting a gentle trail of kisses onto the inside of your thigh, "Not gonna be too much for you, sugar… ‘Said I could do whatever I wanted… Just need a few more minutes t’ taste you, my love."

You open your mouth to reply, but the sound of your voice is replaced by a pitchy moan as he dips that index finger fully inside of you. He curls it upwards and starts that familiar ‘come hither’ motion, creating pressure in your tummy and bringing you to cry.

"O—okay…" you mumble meekly, "F—few more minutes."

Ashton lets out a quiet chuckle at your words; finding the audacity to smile before he’s diving back in to indulge in you. You no longer had control over your shaky limbs, nor any control over the loud expletives tumbling from your lips. The sounds of your wetness boom through your head, as that familiar feeling begins to creep up on you.

"Ashton, baby— gonna’ cum… Gonna’ cum really soon…" You try your hand at warning him; but he was one track minded. He kept his pace, never faltering, using his fingers and tongue in cohesion with one another to send you hurdling towards the finish line.

As he savors his last few tastes of you, he groans in delight. The sounds of his smug satisfaction are just what you need to fully push you to the brink of your orgasm.

"Fuck, Ash! Oh, shit—"

Your pleas were merely encouragement for Ashton. His rhythm continues to pick up speed, climbing and climbing until galaxies were fogging your vision and your legs were tensing up.

"Ashton!"

The final shout of his name had you doubling over in ecstasy, yet his tongue continued on, as did his fingers— you were relishing in the feeling of your orgasm as the butterflies once encaged in your abdomen had set loose and began fluttering throughout your body. He rode you through your high with a final few kitten-licks to your clit, for good measure.

The tension in your shoulders and thighs had finally cracked once his movements came to a slow. Your breathing, heavy and labored, started to readjust to the oxygen levels back down on Earth.

"Ashton… oh— oh my god," you sigh, watching as your boyfriend tenderly starts to massage your jittery legs after he had practically sent you into orbit.

"I know, right?" He smirks confidently at your airy reply, pleased with his ability to ruin you so effortlessly.

You can’t help but giggle, listening to the thunderous beating of your own heart through your chest. He moves to comfort you instantly, kissing your thigh gently before resting his head in its’ place, "Dinner and dessert for Valentine’s Day? What a lucky guy I am…"

"The luckiest, I think," you hum, petting his head with a smile, "We should celebrate holidays like this more often."

Ashton chuckles, reaching up to interlock your fingers before planting a kiss on your knuckles.

"Got time for another round, sugar? President’s Day is right around the corner."

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

#5sos fanfic #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton 5sos #5 seconds of summer #5sos #ashton irwin #soupster requests

117 notes · View notes