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inkdrinkerworld · 5 months ago

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High Hopes 3

part one part two

cw: reader comes from a very tense and abusive home, verbal abuse, allusion to physical abuse, bad sibling relationships, fluff, angst, Remus is a sweetheart and the best almost bf ever

wc: 7.5k

Remus: On a scale of one to ten, how mad would you be if I said I found out your birthday passed and got you a gift?

You read the text as you’re exiting your class building and frown. Your birthday passed just after the new year, and you hadn’t told Remus because you hadn’t even been in the country.

In lieu of an answer, you call him. Remus picks up on the second ring.

“What did you get me?” He laughs down the line and you feel your stomach twist into knots.

“Hello to you too, princess.” Since the Summer weekend sleepover thing (you’d still not decided what to call it), Remus had decided that was your new nickname and as much as you pretended to hate it, you loved it more than the others.

“Hi Remus,” you breathe, eyes on the street as you cross and begin the walk back to your apartment. “What did you get me?”

You can just tell he’s shaking his head. “It’s a present, why would I spoil that surprise?”

“Because I’m impatient?” You rebut quickly. The walk back to your apartment is short, but the lingering winter makes it feel never ending.

It also doesn’t help that you’d chosen style over cosiness- you’re in a long sleeved baby blue dress and a pair of boots that barely lick past your ankles.

“I’m at your apartment, dove. I’ll give it to you when you get here.”

Your eyes widen at the same time your heart constricts. “Remus, I’ve got like ten minutes left on my walk back!”

As easily as he suggests anything to you, “Do you want me to come get you? It’s minus four right now.”

“No, that wouldn’t make any sense,” you hear his car start. “Remus Lupin, I’m serious, I’m like one street away.”

“So I’ll cut your walk short,” The engine roars across the line. “It’s cold, baby.” The fondness in his voice and his sparsely given ‘baby’ is what makes you stop.

“Fine,” you try to sound much grumpier than you are and fail. “I’m at the coffee shop on the left.”

Ten seconds later, Remus is there; his grey car collecting droplets of fine snow.

“Hi,” you say as you slide in the passenger seat, your hands rubbing together making Remus frown.

“And you wanted to finish the walk.” He flicks on the heating as he turns and goes back where he came.

“How did you find out about my birthday?” You ask, fiddling with your bag to get out your water bottle.

“Marlene mentioned that you wouldn’t be able to spend it with her this year and I asked when it was.”

You hum, “It’s a little inconvenient having your birthday just after the new year,” Remus looks at you funny. “I like winter, don’t get me wrong, but a spring birthday would’ve been ideal. Like maybe in March.”

He rolls his eyes, pulling into your parking lot.

“How do you know when mine is?” He asks, helping you out of the car and then grabbing a bag out of the backseat.

“Sirius and James talk a lot. Your gift is currently in transit.”

Remus’ eyes shoot up, “When have you been hanging out with those two?” The ‘without me’ is implied and you look at him with a sly smile.

“Jealous, Remus?”

He tuts, figuring you out immediately. “You’re not winding me up, princess.” He holds the door open for you as you walk in and Remus sighs as he gets a whiff of your newest perfume.

The couple of times he’s been to see you since the start of the semester, you’ve been wearing this intoxicatingly creamy vanilla perfume that has just a touch of something spicy to it that has been driving him mad.

“Why would I be winding you up?” You toe off your boots and then look at him. “I’m gonna take the fastest shower known to man, but there’s food in the fridge and cookies in a Tupperware somewhere on the counter.”

Remus shakes his head, setting his shoes beside yours. “I’ll wait for you, take your time.”

You’re out of the bathroom in twenty minutes, in a matching jewel blue set of loungewear and a pair of socks.

Your hair is tied back exposing a tiny tattoo behind your ear that Remus wants desperately to kiss. He’s on his laptop when you get out, typing away at what you assume is his book.

Remus doesn’t go here, he’s got a fancy writing degree already and he’s got an editing gig that he tries playing off as no big deal- but it is.

He’s on ‘vacation’ though- meaning, he’s been on sick leave for the last four days so he can spend your first week back at school with you. Not that you know he’s been using his sick days for you.

“Is roti okay? My mama dropped off some this morning.” Remus has yet to meet the old woman, but the fondness that overtakes your tone lets him know she’s at least half as lovely as you.

“It’s perfect, dove. What do you want to look at?” He sets about finding your newest psychological thriller- Hannibal- and then makes his way into the kitchen to help you.

“How was your day? I forgot to ask.” You mumble as you crack the ice into glasses before Remus pours some soda into them.

“It was alright, got a couple more pages done of the book and then got high with Sirius.”

You smile, a quiet smile that Remus thinks is going to stop his heart. “How was your classes?”

You groan, “Long, boring and even longer.” He chuckles, leaving you to bring the glasses while he brings both plates to the living room.

Remus sits in the corner of the sofa, he isn’t as slick as he thinks he is for sitting with a clearer view of the front door than you have.

You appreciate the sentiment nonetheless.

“Can I open the gift first?” Remus watches you with a rapt curiosity. He thinks you’re akin to a kid on Christmas- eyes bright, and hands shaking as you practically bounce in your seat.

“Yeah baby,” he can’t help the sticky affection that slowly coats his words- an affection that only grows and spreads like warm honey.

Remus watches you carefully tear the wrapping paper off the gift, his lips quirked just so as he watches your jaw drop.

“You didn’t,” you murmur, shock and disbelief in your voice as you pull the wooden box out of the wrapping paper.

“Open it,” the box in your lap is walnut colored, carved with spirals, flowers and dots and divots. The carvings are coloured in bright reds, oranges, yellows and some pinks.

The lock resembles an ancient rusted clasp lock and as you unlatch it and reveal rows and stairs of chains.

“Remus,” your voice is all clogged up and your bottom lip trembles and Remus wonders if he’s overdone it.

“Yeah?” Your fingers trail along the crystal chips on the chains and you find your heart has cracked open.

“This is the loveliest gift I’ve ever gotten,” the words are whispered into the air, your dinners cold as you take in every single chain in the box. “They’re for my glasses, yeah?”

“They are, pretty girl.”

Silently, you close the box and put it to the side. “Thank you,” you blink and your tears tumble down your cheeks. His hands reach to wipe your cheeks gently.

“You’re welcome.” You climb into his lap, Remus’ hands hold your hips.

“You know you’re the first person since Marlene to get me something thoughtful?”

Remus knows it’s meant to be a flippant comment, but his heart breaks for you.

“Dove,” your heart clenches. “You’re breaking my heart.” His hands move up to cup your cheeks.

“I don’t mean to,” you say softly, shrugging one shoulder but Remus sees past the nonchalance you’re trying to exude. He doesn’t understand how someone as lovely as you has been treated so weirdly.

He gives you an out though because he doesn’t want to push and push and push, “C’mon princess. Eat your dinner.” You take it and your plate as you press play.

Remus notices you don’t move out of his lap but only smiles when you turn and start eating.

“You’re staying the night?” You ask after you’ve both finished your dinner.

Remus inhales, “What time is your first class tomorrow?”

You pull away from him a little, “Eleven,” you have a hopeful look on your face that makes his answer easy.

“Yeah I’ll stay the night.”

You smile so big Remus thinks his heart stops.

Then you get serious, “Wait, how do you feel about sharing the bed?” You ask the question softly, and Remus frowns.

“I’ve shared the bed with you before, dove.”

You shake your head, “I have a um,” you stumble for the words. Remus smiles.

“A stuffy?” He asks quietly and you nod, nibbling away on your bottom lip.

“Yeah a little yellow duckie,” Remus’ smile only widens.

“That’s sweet, dove.”

“You don’t think it’s silly?” He shakes his head.

“How come I didn’t see it when we were at the other house?” He asks, his thumbs caressing your thighs.

“I put him back in my suitcase, and I felt really bad about it too. I left it unzipped a little,” Remus kisses your temple as he chuckles.

“You’re the sweetest fucking thing in the world.”

Changing the conversation, “Do you want chai?”

Remus’ eyebrows shoot up, “You have chai or do you need to make it?”

You shake your head, a tired smile that’s a little teasing, “Jamie dropped it off for me when he came to see Lils.”

Remus’ eyebrows shoot up even farther, “Jamie?”

You giggle, “Yeah, s’what you guys call him.”

Remus is a little indignant, “Jamie?” He repeats and you laugh even more.

“Are you jealous, Remus?”

Your hand reaches to the nape of his neck, twisting the sandy brown hair there as he deliberates.

“Of James getting a nickname?” He asks and you nod, letting your fingers scratch his scalp a little. “No dove,” Remus fights the shiver that threatens to climb his back. “I’m not even a little jealous,”

He leans into you, your noses bumping. “Why not?” Your breaths mingle as you lean even closer to Remus.

“Because,” his hand cups your neck, his thumbs punching your chin upwards. Your chest heaves, “You’re already breathless and I haven’t even kissed you yet, princess.”

“Please.”

Remus smirks, wicked and impish. “No,” you whine and Remus almost rethinks his answer. “Go heat up your chai, pretty girl.”

“You’re no fun,” you hop off his lap and head to the kitchen all the while Remus chuckles, his head against the back of the cushions as he watches you flit about the kitchen.

The next time Remus sees you it’s after possibly one of the worst days of your life in a long time. Everything had gone wrong and there’d been a pit in your stomach all the way to your apartment.

Just as you were about to walk in, your phone rang and without looking, you answered it.

“Why does that boy keep going to your apartment?”

You pull the phone from your ear and curse softly when you see, ‘Devil’s Right Hand,’ displayed on the screen.

“What?” You really don’t have the energy today.

Your father doesn’t seem to care though, “The boy. The one with the grey car.”

As if you’re ten and not a grown ass woman, “Because we’re friends.”

Simple, succinct and it would’ve been sufficient for any other regular parent.

Your dad is anything but.

“And he doesn’t leave till the morning? Do you think I’m an idiot?”

The ‘yes’ in your brain wants so badly to slide off your tongue. You manage to bite it back.

“I don’t understand the problem. I’m an adult, I can do as I please. You don’t even pay for the apartment, Mama does.”

You hear the low simmering anger in your father’s tone. “Your grandmother gives you too much leeway.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m not in the mood for a fight, was that all you wanted to know?”

“Girl, watch your tone, it’s not a long drive to your place.”

You shiver at the threat. “Can I go please? I have coursework to do and I’ve got exams to prep for later this week.”

“Oh sure, coursework. Come home this weekend, your grandparents are at the house on Sunday.”

Your body sags as you hang up the phone, the backs of your eyes burn with exhaustion.

With a sigh, you unlock the door and get into your apartment.

You don’t even bother to change or sit still, instead you just jump straight into your work; hours pass before your phone rings again.

This time, it’s Remus.

“Hey,” he doesn’t like your tone, or the way you sigh the word.

“Hi dove, I’m outside.”

You’re relieved when you see him. He looks warm and cosy. His hair looks pillow soft and his sweater is a faded yellow one against the brown of his corduroy jeans.

“I brought snacks,” he says, jingling a plastic bag in his hand.

You don’t smile quite as big as you normally would’ve and Remus frowns. “Long day?” He asks as he steps in, kissing your forehead when you nod.

“Yeah, I’m just finishing up my coursework and we can have dinner.”

Remus waits for you, busying himself with plating up dinner- leftover Chinese food from yesterday.

“C’mon baby,” he murmurs, rubbing your back as he sets both plates on the coffee table and starts the tv. “Have some food and then get back to it if you like, but I need you to eat.”

You look to argue, but he’s not commanding you. He’s not demanding anything from you, he’s nudging you to look after yourself.

For a moment, you get stuck in just looking at him and your mind whirs. Remus is unlike anyone else in your life- he doesn’t take, he doesn’t shout and make threats, he doesn’t force you into a box or anything of the sort.

Instead, he gives you room and watches you, watches you be yourself and encourages you to be yourself. It makes you emotional for a minute, the back of your throat burning as you come to the realisation.

“Coming,” you whisper, Remus’ eyes track your movements, and he smiles a little when you sit right up beside him, your forearms brushing.

Dinner is quiet, little conversation here and there because Remus can tell you’re exhausted.

In that sense, he washes up the dishes while you shower and he tidies up the living room before double checking your door is locked.

He’s pouring hot water over the tea bags when you come out of your room, dressed in the softest look pyjamas he’s ever seen.

“Oh you look cosy, princess.” You go bashful under the lovestruck tone to his words, walking into the arms he has open.

One hand goes to the base of your neck, holding firm as his other hand squeezes around your back.

“Tired?” He whispers into your hair and you hum.

“I can have a cuppa though, not that tired.”

You barely make it halfway through your cup before your eyes are closing and your head is lolling onto Remus’ shoulder.

“Poor girl,” he murmurs, setting his cup down and sliding his hands under your thighs and around your back. “S’okay dove,” he coos as you stir, your nose brushed up to his neck as he walks to your bedroom.

“Stay,” you mumble as he sets you down and Remus smiles.

“M’right here dovey, not going a place.”

Remus wakes up to you moving around in bed, your legs kicking and your body thrashing.

“Hey,” he croaks, voice cracking from sleep. “Dovey,” he mumbles, his hand rubbing your arm. “Baby wake up.”

His nose brushes your cheek, hands shaking your shoulder a bit as your tossing worsens.

“Wake up dove,” he whispers, stroking your neck.

“Remus?” Your voice shakes, eyes open wide as you try to get your bearings.

“It’s me baby, I’m right here.” Your heart is racing as you sit up, Remus following suit.

“Sorry,” you whimper, brushing your cheeks as you feel tears fall. Remus flicks on your lamp and his eyebrows thread together.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” He tucks you into his side. “Wanna talk to me about it?”

His hand creeps under your shirt, his knuckles dragging up and down your spine.

“Was just a dream,” you whisper, not quite sounding yourself. “A bad dream.”

Remus nods, “Yeah, it was just a dream, pretty girl. Your pulse is pounding though, babe.” He can feel the harsh beat of it against the knuckles on your back.

You shut your eyes, reliving the scenes in the dream vividly.

“It’s a recurring thing,” you start, letting yourself be comforted by Remus’ hand on your back and the faint scent of his citrus soap. “I’m little again and my dad is blue mad, breaking glass and screaming in my face.”

You take a shuddering breath and Remus tries his best not to react with his body.

“I was about ten or eleven I think, by that time our relationship wasn’t salvageable. I can’t even remember what he was so upset about but I always seemed like the perfect target. ‘Specially when I started telling him off for being mean to my mum.”

“Baby this was real?” You nod, Remus lets himself for a moment, imagine little you stopping grown adults from arguing and he feels his chest tighten at the thought.

“He tried coming at me and mum with a piece of the glass. It was just a mess. The fight only stopped because our neighbours came to get me.”

He feels your tears wet his shirt, but he doesn’t care. Not when you’ve started shaking again.

“You’re alright baby,” his words sound like a promise whispered into your hairline. “You don’t have to go back to that, I swear you don’t.”

“I think the reason I had a nightmare was because he called earlier. Said to come home on Sunday and that he knew you were staying over.”

Remus can’t stop himself from stiffening then. He hates the frustration and defeat in your voice.

“Do you want me to come with you on Sunday?” The offer is as easy as the breath he inhales.

You look up at him, eyelashes wet and stuck together, lips and cheeks swollen from crying.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Remus smiles- a sad smile.

“You didn’t ask,” he kisses your nose. “Think about it okay? I won’t be offended if you say no, pretty girl.”

You nod and tuck yourself back into him.

“Do you think you can go back to sleep or do you wanna watch something?”

You think for a long time, “Will you hold me till I fall asleep?”

God his heart really is breaking. Who could hurt you?

“Till you wake up, dove.”

Remus wakes up before you do, his arms still wrapped around you, and you’re more on his chest than on the bed.

His mind wakes faster than his body, racing with thoughts of little you and the things you’ve lived. He finds that you hide it well. The hurt, the pain, the everything. One look at you wouldn’t reveal that, all anyone would see is a rich girl living with her parents and doing whatever she pleases; but under the surface?

You’re so like everyone else, but so singular that it stops his breath a little.

You don’t have class today, so he decides quite quickly that he’s letting you sleep in. The only thing you have to do is finish the last bit of your coursework and then Remus thinks a day doing your favourite things- shopping for books and having tea- is in order.

He also wants to start breakfast, you’d mentioned a couple nights ago that you’d been craving blueberries and he’d had a hankering for pancakes.

Remus tries moving out from under you but your fist closes around his shirt and he stays put.

Breakfast can wait a bit.

“Remmy?” You wake shortly after, the sunlight peeking through the curtains tickling your eyes.

“Yes, dove?” His hand is stroking your arm, his blunt fingernails dragging slowly makes it hard for you to open your eyes.

“Time is it?” You stretch as he reaches for his phone.

“Just gone past ten,” you settle right back into his chest with a sigh.

“Can you wake me up again at eleven?” You ask at the same time Remus asks,

“Do you wanna go out for breakfast?”

You hum, “What’re we having?”

A yawn tears apart his answer, “Blueberry pancakes? Or bagels? Either or, I don’t mind.”

“Are you making pancakes?” He can already tell where the question is headed.

“Yes, do you have everything for them?” You nod then you shake your head.

“Except the blueberries.”

Remus pulls you and the covers a little closer. “Want me to go in to the grocery and get them?” You shake your head.

“I’ll settle for whatever fruit I’ve got in the house.” Remus tuts.

“Would you prefer blueberries?” He asks, his fingers dancing across the nape of your neck.

“Yeah,” that’s all he needed to hear.

“I’ll make you some tea and head out,” Remus isn’t allowed to slide out from under you, your thigh on his hip pins him down.

“You don’t have to,” you say bashfully, an intense guilt that’s completely unnecessary creeps into your voice and Remus has to slide his hands to your neck and push your chin up under your jaw.

“You’re not inconveniencing me, pretty girl. I’m getting them, coming back here and making pancakes and then we’re going either to the beach or the bookstore.”

You shake your head as best as you can with Remus holding your jaw. “You don’t have to do all of this just because I had a bad dream.”

He tuts, “I want to take care of you. I’ll just be fifteen minutes.”

You nod, accepting your defeat in the argument.

In the time Remus is gone, you find yourself going through photo albums and reminiscing on the days when things were a lot easier.

You stop on a picture of you and your grandmother and you sigh. Grabbing your phone, you dial her number.

“Hello, Mama?” Your voice wavers as you speak.

“Yes, Bebo?” You smile at the sound of her voice. Instantly, you feel like you’re being swaddled in her arms and like your troubles are eased. Your home name falling from her mouth with such familiarity also makes your chest ache.

“I’m having trouble,” you say honestly. “I don’t know how to forgive anymore.”

She sighs, you can hear shuffling in the back and things knocking about and then you hear your grandmother’s voice. “Bebo, you don’t have to forgive everybody.” She says, and you sniffle. “Not everyone needs that, or deserves that.” When you don’t answer she worries. You and your grandmother have an insanely close relationship, summers were spent in her back garden and on the beach near her house. She knows you as well as you can know any person.

“Do you want me to come over? I can bring you lunch.” You take a minute to consider and know in your heart of hearts that she would be on her way if you said yes.

“No,” you take the conversation to a different direction quickly. “Are you coming over on Sunday? Dad said.”

You can hear the smile in her voice, “Yeah, I miss my grandkids, Bebo.”

You’d seen her just three days ago but it feels like a month ago. “I miss you too, Mama. Would it be weird if I brought someone for dinner?”

She gasps, always one for a good bit of gossip. “Like a boyfriend? Bebo, I’ve been waiting for this!” She sounds so excited that the image of her smiling wide behind her glasses warms your heart.

“You don’t think dad will make it a thing?”

She puffs out air, “Your dad would make the sun coming out a thing if he wanted to. I need you to not live your life according to him, Bebo. He’s my son, but he’s a little shit and he doesn’t rule you or anyone else.”

You sigh, chest shaking under the weight of your withheld thoughts.

“Is that why you don’t want me coming over? Your boyfriend is over?” You giggle, feeling weirdly like she’s right beside you as you tuck your phone between your cheek and shoulder.

“He went to get blueberries because I wanted pancakes, and he’s not my boyfriend, Mama.” She scoffs, you smile.

“But you like him and he’s nice?”

“Super nice, like tooth rotting nice. And he’s really gentle and calm too.”

You can see your grandmother’s smile, and find yourself doing the same. Even more so when you hear the knock on your door.

“You deserve nice, gentle and calm, Bebo. I’m sorry I couldn’t have kept you kids for longer.”

“Mama,” you gasp the words as you look through the peephole and find Remus standing there with the groceries. “You did and are doing enough. You’re not in charge of his actions, he is.”

Remus’ eyes narrow as he sees your glassy eyes as he steps into the apartment.

“I know Bebo, I know.”

“I gotta go, but I’ll call you to let you know if I’m coming okay? If I am, would you bring,” she cuts you off.

“Of course I’ll bring you coconut fudge Bebo, I’ll make it on Saturday so it doesn’t get stale.”

Remus starts about the kitchen, but you can tell he’s intrigued about the conversation- or at the least, who you’re on the phone with.

“Thanks Mama, I love you.” You see a little smile break out of his face even as he faces away from you to measure the flour.

“I love you too Bebo, go enjoy your boyfriend.” You laugh scandalously and hear her chuckle before you hang up.

“How’s your grandma?” Remus asks as you come into the kitchen and sit on the counter near him.

“She’s good. I called her to talk about the nightmare but I kept getting too sad so we just talked about other stuff.” You swing your feet as you watch Remus mix the wet and dry ingredients.

“Is she also going to dinner on Sunday?” He poses it conversationally, because it is but he also wants a feel for who’s there at these dinners.

You nod, stealing a blueberry from the carton. “She’s always there. I think she comes because she knows if she’s there my dad will be in check for the whole night;” you smile when you eat the blueberry and find it’s sweet. “She’s pretty scary when she needs to be.”

“I don’t doubt that, dove. You’re the same way, can tell there’s a little fire behind all that niceness.”

You roll your eyes, “Whatever you say Lupin,” Remus sets your griddle on and oils it as it heats up. “Would you really want to come on Sunday?”

He pours three pancakes on, “Unless I have to do something strange, then yes I want to come.”

“If I told you that there was an initiation process that everyone’s super anal about, that would be a deal breaker?” Remus looks at you wide eyed and then notices your poorly hidden smile.

“You’re a menace.” He says as he flips the pancakes, another raucous laugh bubbling out of you.

“On occasion.” Remus stacks three for you and reaches for the syrup in the cupboard above your head. “But Mama, my granny, will probably badger you about your ‘intentions’ and whatever else.”

You thank Remus for the pancakes with a kiss on his cheek. “Eat,” he says, cutting your pancakes for you, making you smile. “I can handle badgering. But I should warn you, I don’t hide anger well.”

You wave off his concern. “Oh he won’t be out of line, Mama keeps him in check. And I just ignore him anyways.” Remus doesn’t like the way you shrug like your dad being a prick is no big deal, but he decides you’ve shared enough for the day.

You don’t start eating till he makes his own stack and switches off the stove and that makes him smile a little.

“Do you have a preference for the beach or the bookstore?” He asks in between bites of breakfast.

You think for a moment, “Can we go to the bookstore? There’s a couple books I want to check on.”

Remus nods, not really caring where you go, just that you do something you like.

You decide against Remus joining you, not sure if you’re ready for him to see the circus that is your family.

Your Mama is on the front porch, sipping what you know is coffee as you get out your car.

You send Remus a text, Made it. I’ll let you know how it goes.

His response is immediate, My offer to come get you is always on the table, princess

“Where’s your boyfriend?”She asks, standing to hug you.

“Told him that it might be too much, didn’t want to scare him off.” You try to sound as chipper as possible, but your grandmother knows you.

“He’s not in control of you anymore, Bebo. You can’t give it to him.”

You nod, diverting the conversation. “How’d the fudge turn out?”

You have a couple bricks with her and your older brother in the garden out back before they’re ready to serve dinner.

There’s a quiet stillness that covers the remaining winter, the coffee and coconut milk fudge just enough to make it seem like the tranquillity could last forever.

“Mama said you have a boyfriend?” your older brother asks, protectiveness and amusement in his tone as you look up at him wide eyed and shocked.

“I told her he’s not my boyfriend. Not yet.”

“She really wants him to be. He made her pancakes and he spent the night.” You tut at your grandmother’s gossiping.

Your brother smiles, “I’d like to meet him sometime, you look happy again.” You just nod, scared that you might say something that gives away how much you really really like Remus.

“Dinner’s ready,” your mum comes out on the porch, giving all three of you a soft smile before going back in.

Dinner is great until the round-the-table questions get to you. You’d avoided it for a couple courses, but it appears your luck is out.

“How was your coursework?” Your dad says it like it was an actual lie, you don’t miss the vile amusement in his tone, like he’s waiting to catch you in a lie.

“Lots of reading, but I think I got above 85 which is great considering this professor is known for failing students for less than 75.”

Your dad isn’t satisfied. “What was it about?”

You stiffen in your chair, you don’t like the implication that you’re lying. “Capital punishment, recidivism and how the two coincide.”

Your mum can tell your dad is still not pleased, so can your grandmother and she sets him right with a look.

“Do you need her professors to start running their coursework topics through you? Are you going to call the school next because you disbelieve everything?”

The table is tense as your grandmother and your dad have a stare off- not that she’s at all concerned about him.

Your younger siblings feed off your dad’s energy, their own question hot and ready and aimed at anyone with answers.

“How is it fair that she moved out?” And “Why does Mama pay for her apartment and not just tell her to move back home? It’s silly how much she’ll do for attention.” Or “Maybe if she just came home dad wouldn’t be so upset?” You can’t even get a word in, stunned silent as you realise this is how they see you.

It’s when your younger brother and sister say, “You always make it about you, you’re Mama’s favourite and that pisses us off. Dad doesn’t like you because you think you’re better than us, and it would all be better if you just made a clear decision- do you want to be in the family or not?”, that your breath quickens at their words, your heartbeat roaring in your ears.

The part that hurts is that they’re too young to know all the things that have happened, they don’t get why it’s so hard for you to sit here even on bi-weekly Sunday dinners and play nice with your dad.

Your food suddenly loses taste when your dad sends an evil smile your way, your stomach rolling.

They don’t understand that you’ve taken their beatings, that you’ve suffered horrid treatment just so they wouldn’t have to.

“Either way, we don’t care. I think we’d be better off without you if I’m honest. All you do is mope and complain, you wouldn’t even have half the shit you do if it wasn’t for dad. He’s not the monster you make him out to be.”

Your older brother cut them glares, “Enough! You don’t speak for this entire table, find somewhere else to be.” They scamper off, your brother doesn’t even give your dad the time of day, he looks at you immediately.

“Go take a walk, Bebo.” He’s the only one of them that likes you, the only out of three siblings that actually knows you, that knows what this is doing to you and you’re grateful for it.

Mama sparks into heavy, brash Urdu, all of it aimed at your father who more than deserves it- these are his spawn.

You try to think through your feelings, try to sort them into neat and tidy boxes but it just winds you.

You can't take deep breaths, they’re all shallow and sharp. Your chest aches, a concave feeling to it as you worry about the sharpness of your breath. It only worsens your ability, your breathing even shallower and you can’t seem to stop the cycle.

You reach for your phone, pulling up a breathing video and trying your best to follow it, your breathing evening the longer you follow along.

When you can inhale fully, you call Remus. You need him.

He picks up on the second ring, “Hi, dovey. Everything okay?”

“I think I should’ve let you come.” Your voice sounds ragged, like you need to cry and Remus’ skin prickles. He wishes he was there too.

“Need me to come up there?” You debate it, you really do, and maybe if you didn’t feel like such a shitty person right now you would’ve said ‘no,’ but you need Remus and his sound mind and advice.

“It’s a thirty minute drive.” you say, hearing things rustling in the back and Remus moves the phone from his mouth as he calls to someone.

“I’m heading out, text me if you need anything.” Then the phone is closer. “Just had to tell Siri and Jamie. I’m on my way, princess.”

“Drive safely, Remmy.” you sound so sad, Remus wishes he could just apparate to you now.

“I’ll see you soon, baby. Stay somewhere safe, yeah.”

Tears gather in your eyes at how easily Remus could tell that you were frightened, that you’re in need of some place soft to land. God, you can’t wait for him to be here.

The front door opens, your older brother coming out on the porch with a heavy sigh.

“You have to tell them Bebo,” he says softly and you shake your head.

“Why? So they can think I’m just lying to make him look bad. I’m okay with this arrangement.”

Your brother takes a seat on the porch swing and pats a spot next to him.

“Are you actually?” You inhale, thinking it over for a brief moment.

“It hurts, of course it does. But I used to be mean too, this is them being mean back.”

Your brother rolls his eyes, “It’s not like they’re ten. They’re sixteen and they’re horrid.” You take your spot next quickly- like if you chance a slow moment the tears will come.

“But just to me. You get to be the best sibling they have, while I’m the problem black sheep sibling who can’t help but be macabre.”

“You’re not macabre. You know you’re not. You just lived some dark shit to spare them and it’s time to stop. They can handle it.” You wish you could do it, it might make things easier, but you’re scared.

“Maybe next time, it’s too charged in there now.” You sigh, head touching the back of the swing. “Do you think I’ll ever have their love?” The tears stream down your cheeks anyway as you think about the idea, as you hear their words rattle around your head.

Your brother sighs hard, not sure if your siblings would ever wake up from your dad’s spell. Instead of saying anything, he guides your head to his shoulder. “Take a nap, Bebo.”

“Remus is coming soon. Would you wake me when he gets here?”

“‘Course, Bebo.”

Your grandmother comes out right after you fall asleep, touching your sticky cheek with a weathered hand.

“They’ll break her, you know. They’ll break her spirit and she won’t hold back anymore.” She sounds sad, like she can see it happening already.

“Mama, she won’t break.” your brother says, reaching for her but she bats him away.

“She’s not like you. You brush it off, she can’t. It weighs her heart. Every time she leaves here she looks so sad, so heavy and cracked. I can’t see her crack again, do you remember it?”

Tears fall down her cheeks, but she doesn’t try to wipe them, she just stares at your sleeping form.

Your brother sighs, leaning on her shoulder as she sits on his other side. “I remember,” he says quietly, the memories of you being withdrawn dancing behind his eyes. “Her boyfriend is coming here.”

“Really?” She asks and your brother nods.

“She told me to wake her up when he gets here.”

Mama smiles, “I’m glad she called him.”

Remus arrives about forty minutes later, your brother sitting beside you about to shake your shoulder when Remus steps out of the car and shakes his head.

“Let her sleep a little,” your brother’s confused by his request.

“She asked me to wake you when you get here.”

Remus smiles despite his anger. He’d stewed all the way to your dad’s house, wondering if you’d be hurt, if you’d not find a quiet place and the argument would keep going.

He didn’t know what he was walking into, and finding you asleep is much more welcome than the sadder visions of his brain.

“Would you tell me what it’s all about? Or what sparked it all today?”

Remus sits on the floor near the foot of the swing, his hand holding onto your ankle as he looks to your brother.

It’s clear to him, your brother, that Remus cares about you. His eyes haven’t strayed from you for more than thirty seconds, always coming back to rove over your face like he’s making sure you’re still there and still okay.

Your brother hesitates- he’s never spoken about this with someone outside of the family. “They have warped perceptions of her; our younger brother and sister. They think she’s ungrateful and just doesn’t come home to get dad riled up- she doesn’t come home because they don’t know what she’s done so they didn’t have to get the dad we got.”

Remus frowns harder, his thumb rubbing a circle on your ankle.

“And she doesn’t want to tell them?” There’s no judgement in his tone, just curiosity.

Your brother shakes his head. “She doesn’t think they’d believe her at this point. I’m always trying to talk her into it, but I think it runs a bit too deep to dredge up just like that.”

Remus nods, eyes fixated on you as you sleep. “Will she want to tell them goodbye?”

Your brother smiles, “If you leave without meeting our grandma, I think she’ll never forgive you for leaving without her ice cream.”

Remus laughs, nodding as he stands.

“You should wake her up first, I’ll go tell Mama you’re here.” Remus waits till your brother walks off into the house to sit beside you.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been asleep, but sometime later you feel Remus’ hand on your cheek, thumb a little calloused as it rubs at the apple.

Only he wakes you up this gently.

“Princess, wake up. Miss your face.”

“Hey,” your eyes peel open slowly, a little smile spreading on your face.

Remus’ smile is small, but not forced. He could never do that with you looking up at him- especially with your sleepy eyes.

“Was the drive okay?”

He chuckles, it’s belated that you notice you’re alone with him on your front porch. Your brother’s car is still parked outside and so is your grandmother’s.

“Yeah it was, pretty girl.”

Remus kisses your forehead, his hand holding your face even though it’s a little sticky with your dried tears.

“Your brother went to get Mama.” He says softly, letting you twist your body so you were leaning into him. Your entire front body was pressing against his ribs.

“I’m so tired, Remmy.” Your voice cracks as you speak, Remus can’t bear it. He hates it that you’re this sad.

“I know baby,” his words are whispered into your hairline, his hand moving to cup the back of your head as he feels the quiet tears soak his shirt. “We don’t have to stay here any longer than you want to.”

You sniffle and nod, letting Remus pull you further into his lap so he can hold you.

“This is Mama,” you hear your brother’s voice and the light steps of your grandmother and then feel Remus lean forward. You assume he wanted you off his lap, but his hand anchors your hip to his as he shakes the older woman’s hand.

“Remus.” He introduces himself and she smiles.

“You’re handsome,” you laugh when you catch Remus’ cheeks flushing. “I have your ice cream here, Bebo. He won’t come out, locked himself away in his office.”

You shrug, “Doesn’t matter. I’m ready to go.” Remus nods, taking the tub of ice cream for you, letting you climb off his lap before standing.

“Give me two minutes, baby.” You kiss his jaw as you go, the car keys in your hand.

“She’ll be okay right?”

Your brother smiles at Remus, Mama frowns.

“She’s a fighter.” He says but Mama shakes her head.

“She might not have any more fight left in her.”

Remus knows what she means to say. He remembers how Sirius had been, the brave faces and attitude to hide how sad he was. He looks at the car and spots you with your head against the glass.

“Just be patient with her.” Mama says and Remus nods. “She’ll tell you everything soon enough. She looks at you like you individually hung the stars.”

Remus blushes again, not really knowing what to say.

Your older brother pats his shoulder and goes inside, “I think I’ll head out too.” He goes to his car, but not before stopping at Remus’ and giving you a kiss to your forehead.

Remus frowns, “Does everyone disperse after they fight like this?” He asks your grandmother, not wanting to push but trying to understand.

“Bebo can’t take more of this, you’ll see. I set him straight, he leaves her alone for months and then starts over. It’s like a cat and a mouse- always prodding and slapping and poking until the mouse has had enough.”

“And the mouse does what when they’ve had enough?”

Mama smiles, like she’s holding out just a sliver of hope that it will happen. “Revolt.”

Remus gives her a hug and makes his way to the car.

As soon as he opens the door, you smile. Tired lines all over your face as your eyes barely open.

“Wanna stay over?” You ask, cheek smushed to your shoulder as you look at Remus.

“How abouts you come over to mine? I’ve got fluffy blankets,” Remus kisses that spot where your forearm and upper arm meet. “Oatmeal raisin and chocolate chip cookies,” a kiss to your shoulder, right on the beauty mark. “And I’ve got all your favourites on dvd.”

The last kiss is right on the corner of your mouth, chaste and sweet and it makes you smile even more.

“Sirius and James won’t mind?”

Remus rolls his eyes, “They’ve gone on their own lover’s retreats today.” Wrong, Remus kicked them out the second he’d hung the phone with you.

“Okay, but can we stop by my place to get my stuffy?”

Remus chuckles, “Course we can, dovey. That way we’ll both have clothes at each other’s place.”

You tut, clipping on your seatbelt as Remus turns over the engine. “You’re not getting your sweater back, Remus.”

He only rolls his eyes as he pulls out of your dad’s yard, tipping his chin to the ice cream tub. “Will that be okay on the drive?”

You nod, “Yeah, we can have some with the cookies tonight.”

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princessbrunette · 9 months ago

Note

Baby daddy rafe being hit on everyone at the country club and reader not being able to do anything cuz they’re not together<//33

🧸✧˖°❅🍥

you don’t even know why you come to this stupid place anymore.

you supposed it was to keep up appearances. you didn’t wanna be that girl that turned twenty, got pregnant and then disappeared off the radar. why should you have to live in shame of being a young parent if rafe cameron didn’t? you refused, hence why you were taking a quiet afternoon off, sitting with a glass of wine at the country club enjoying the sunshine before you’d have to return to motherhood.

you didn’t expect him to be there at the same time you were. you try it to be cool about it, because you knew you were not with him — but seeing him surrounded by a group of girls batting their lashes and twirling their hair up at him made you feel… icky. you were protective, you supposed. sure, you weren’t together but that was the father of your child. the wine gave you that little confidence boost, so you decide to go and intervene, make something up.

flattening out your sundress you totter over, briefly losing that confidence for a moment as you stand to the side, waiting for your turn to be noticed like the rest of them. when he does, he cuts the flirtatious laughter short to politely shoo them away, wandering over to you.

“hi.” you state bashfully, embarrassed that you have to take up any of his time as if he didn’t put a whole baby in your stomach.

“hey, uh… how’s my girl?” he asks, and for a brief hopeful moment you think he’s talking about you. your chest warms anyway.

“she’s good. sarah is babysitting right now.” you explain softly, finding it hard to hold the eye contact. your eyes drift over to the girls he was speaking to instead, noticing their jealous glares. rafe hums, bringing his beer bottle to his lips and taking a sip.

“‘long as she’s not letting my baby around those pogues.” he comments, displeased and your heart sinks a little. you hate when he’s disappointed. maybe your hormones were still all out of whack. “was there… something you needed from me?”

you blink up at him dumbly, conjuring up an excuse. “w— uh… i was wondering… when you wanted to see her?” you fiddle with your hands, body heating up at how ill prepared you were for this conversation. he blinks, shifting on his feet.

“do i not…come and see her every weekend? i dont…” he frowns, genuinely confused. your eyes widen as you nod.

“yeah, no — of course i was just… wondering if you wanted to see her during the week too or anything? if you maybe wanted to…come over just for a little while?” you shrug, trying to make it as casual as possible. he stares at you for a moment like he’s trying to read you before looking around.

“you— you know i’m a very busy man now and —” he starts but you cut him off, already too hurt to let him continue.

“yeah! no it’s okay i totally get it rafe. i don’t wanna impede, you’re already doing a lot and i don’t wanna ask too m—” you go to ramble politely, humiliated at the speed in which the fat tears spring to your eyes.

“hey— let me finish, alright?” he places two hands on your shoulders and you immediately shut up, blinking up at him tearfully. “what i was going to say, okay — is — is that i’m a busy man now, but… you say the word and… i’ll drop everything, yeah? whats the problem have — have you been struggling with… with the baby or, what?” he looks concerned. maybe it was fatherhood that was changing him but you could tell he genuinely gave a shit. no he wasn’t fully rid of his boyish troublesome ways but there had definitely been a shift and that was enough to relieve you. he watches the stress physically melt from your body, brow relaxing as you sigh.

“not a…problem, rafe really it’s okay i just… it can be a little lonely… and i suppose i just want her to see her parents interacting, show her that we’re okay with eachother you know? give her some healthy ideals.” you explain, but really he stopped listening after the word lonely.

“i—i didn’t know you were lonely like that, you know i… i wouldn’t let that happen… okay? i’ll come over. we’ll hang out… yeah?” one hand that was resting on your shoulder comes up to cup your cheek in emphasis and you so badly want to nuzzle into it, let him take the weight of your head. instead you just stare up with doe eyes.

“yeah.” it comes out as a whisper and he licks his lips, nodding in approval.

“alright then.”

you glance over to the glaring girls and your gaze darts downwards. “uh, i think i’m upsetting your girlfriends.” you chuckle awkwardly, going to step back. he glances over his shoulder, letting go over you before shrugging a shoulder carelessly.

“more like… god damn fan girls. those bit— uh, women won’t leave me alone.” he corrects himself, making a clear effort. “gonna go and find topper now, okay? you gonna be fine?” he takes a step back and you want him to stay but you nod anyway.

“see you, rafe.”

you have a warm feeling in your stomach when you leave the country club. you weren’t together, and only a few weeks ago you were telling people how glad you were that this was the case. but now things were different. his favouritism should have been clear due to the fact he’d knocked you up, and maybe it was pity, if that was something rafe was even capable of — but you didn’t care. rafe liked you the most.

🧸✧˖°❅🍥

#anon #rafe cameron prompt #babydaddy!rafe

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stargirllanaa · 1 month ago

Text

Death Grips. III - R.C

Dark!Frat!Rafe Cameron x f!reader

Warnings: Dv( physical abuse),NONCON, Mentions of Dv, Cheating, mentions of cheating, abusive relationship, gaslighting, manipulation, frat!rafe, blackmail, emotional abuse, underage drinking, he’s an asshole guys

Summary: inspired by ‘death grips’ by Etta Marcus/ After a messy break up with Rafe Cameron your freshman year of college, he can’t seem to leave you alone. Whether you’re awake or asleep

Series Masterlist

A/n: hey guys, I just got back from out of the country so this took me a little longer than I wanted it to but hope u enjoy and pls leave feedback and lmk how u like it whether it’s an anonymous ask, reblog or comment I do read all feedback and try to incorporate what you guys suggest!

Part: III

…….

The beach was alive with noise and chaos. Voices carried across the sand, blending with the pounding of the waves and the crackle of the bonfire. The night should have felt carefree and fun even, but as soon as you saw Rafe leaning against a log near the fire, his easy laugh cutting through the hum of the crowd, it was like every muscle in your body locked up.

You froze, but Mia nudged you forward, oblivious—or maybe just willfully blind. “Come on,” she said with a grin, already scanning the crowd for Topper. “He’s not going to do anything. Just stick with me.”

You didn’t respond. Your eyes stayed locked on Rafe as he glanced up and noticed you. His reaction was immediate—his laugh froze mid-sound, his blue eyes narrowing just slightly before he recovered. He raised his beer in a lazy toast, smirking in your direction.

Mia didn’t notice. “See? He’s being chill. You’re fine,” she said breezily, dragging you toward the fire.

But you didn’t feel fine.

At first, you stayed on the outskirts, keeping your distance and nursing the drink someone shoved into your hand. You told yourself you were just being paranoid, that Rafe wasn’t paying any attention to you. But it was impossible to shake the feeling of his eyes brushing over you whenever you moved too close to the firelight.

It wasn’t long before he was beside you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice casual, almost soft.

You didn’t look at him. “What do you want?”

“I’m not trying to bother you,” he said quickly, hands raised as if to show he meant no harm. “I just—look, I wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything.”

You stiffened. “What?”

“I mean it,” Rafe said, his voice dropping. “I know I messed up. I’ve been… I don’t know. Trying to figure my shit out.” He took a step closer, his gaze steady. “I just want us to be cool. That’s all.”

“Cool,” you repeated flatly. “Right. Sure.”

You wanted to walk away, to shut him down and make it clear he wasn’t welcome. But something in his tone—his softness, his willingness to admit fault made you hesitate. It wasn’t like him.

“I mean it,” he said again, holding your gaze. “You don’t have to forgive me, but I don’t want things to be like this. It doesn’t have to be so… heavy.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t trust him. He’d proven that over and over. But he didn’t press. He just lingered, staying close but not too close, offering you drinks every time your cup got low.

You didn’t realize how much you’d had to drink until you were laughing at something—God knows what—with a girl you barely knew. The firelight blurred, the edges of the world softening as the alcohol worked its way through your system.

Rafe wasn’t far, leaning against a log a few feet away, his eyes on you.

“You’re finally relaxing,” he said, his voice light as he moved closer.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t make it weird.”

He smirked, holding his hands up in surrender. “Not trying to. Just saying it’s nice to see you like this. You’re always so tense around me.”

“Damn, I wonder why,” you shot back, though your words were starting to slur.

He laughed, low and warm. “Fair point.”

Before you could respond, he tilted his head toward the darker stretch of beach beyond the fire. “Let’s go for a walk. Too loud here.”

“No thanks,” you said immediately, shaking your head.

“Come on,” he pressed, his tone light but insistent. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I just want to talk. No bullshit, I promise.”

You hesitated. Part of you screamed to stay by the fire, to not let him pull you away from the safety of the crowd. But the alcohol muffled your thoughts, loosening your grip on the fear that always kept you guarded around him.

Against your better judgment, you nodded.

The sound of the party faded as you walked, the waves swallowing the noise until it was just the two of you under the moonlight. You stumbled slightly, the uneven sand throwing you off balance, but Rafe’s hand steadied you.

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice closer than you realized.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, shrugging off his hand.

He didn’t let go immediately, his fingers lingering on your arm for a moment too long before he finally stepped back.

When you stopped walking, he turned to face you, his expression unreadable.

“I miss you,” he said softly.

You blinked, the words not quite registering at first. “What?”

“I miss us,” he said, his voice low and almost vulnerable. “I know I screwed up. I know I hurt you. But I want to fix it.”

You stared at him, the alcohol dulling your initial burst of anger. “Are you serious?”

“I’m not asking you to forget everything,” he said quickly. “I just—I want another chance. I can be better. I know I can.”

You laughed, sharp and bitter. “Another chance? Are you insane?”

“I’m serious,” he said, stepping closer. “I’ve been working on myself. I’ve been trying—”

“You’re fucking delusional,” you snapped, cutting him off. The alcohol loosened the words, pulling them out of you before you could stop. “You cheated on me. You hit me. You made me feel like I was nothing. And now you want me to just… what? Forget all of that and give you another chance?”

Rafe flinched, the softness in his expression hardening into something sharper. “I was messed up back then. I didn’t know how to—”

“No,” you said, your voice shaking with anger. “You knew exactly what you were doing. You always knew. And you loved it.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t have a part in it,” he said, his voice rising. “You knew how to push my buttons. You knew how to make me lose my shit.”

You took a step back, your body trembling. “You’re disgusting.”

The silence between you stretched, heavy and suffocating. For a moment, you thought he might lash out, that he’d grab your arm or raise his voice. But instead, he smiled—cold and sharp, the boyish charm replaced by something cruel.

“You’re drunk,” he said simply, stepping closer. “I’ll give you a pass. But you’re not over me. You never will be.”

You turned and walked away, the sound of his laughter following you as you stumbled back toward the fire. You didn’t care if you looked unsteady or ridiculous; all you cared about was putting as much distance between you and him as possible.

When you reached the edge of the crowd, Mia was nowhere to be seen. Your stomach twisted, a fresh wave of anger rising as you realized she’d probably disappeared with Topper again, leaving you to fend for yourself.

Your hands shook as you grabbed your bag, your breaths coming in uneven gasps. You didn’t look back toward the dark stretch of beach where Rafe still stood, watching you.

~~~~~~

You slammed the door of your dorm shut, the sound echoing through the small space. Your clothes still smelled faintly of bonfire smoke, your hair damp from the salt air, but none of that mattered. The only thing you could focus on was the lingering sensation of Rafe’s smirk, his words still ringing in your ears.

“You’re not over me. You never will be.”

The audacity made your stomach churn, and as you tossed your bag onto your bed, you couldn’t stop your hands from trembling. You needed to talk to someone to make sense of everything that had happened at the beach. But when Mia walked through the door minutes later, her laughter bubbling over as she scrolled through her phone, something inside you snapped.

She looked up, startled. “Whoa. What’s with the death glare?”

“Where the hell were you?” you snapped, unable to hold it anymore.

The smile on her face faded instantly. “What?”

“At the beach,” you said, your voice shaking. “You said we’d stick together, that you wouldn’t leave me alone, and then you disappeared with Topper like it was nothing.”

Mia’s brow furrowed, her confusion quickly morphing into defensiveness. “Hold on, what happened? Did Rafe—”

“What do you think happened?” you snapped, cutting her off. “He cornered me, got me drunk, and then tried to tell me he wants me back. And you weren’t there, Mia. You left me alone with him.”

She blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Okay, but nothing actually happened, right? I mean, you’re here, you’re fine—”

“Fine?” The word came out sharp, almost bitter. “Are you kidding me? You know what he’s like, Mia. You know how much he’s put me through, and you still dragged me there like it didn’t matter. You’re literally fucking his best friend.”

Her mouth opened, then closed, like she wasn’t sure how to respond. “It’s not like that,” she said finally. “Topper’s not Rafe, and I thought—”

“You thought what?” you interrupted, your voice rising. “That I’d just magically be okay? That I’d be fine hanging out with my abusive ex at a party while you played house with his best friend?”

“Abusive?” she repeated, her eyes widening slightly.

You froze, realizing the word had slipped out before you could stop it. But there was no taking it back now. “Yeah,” you said, your voice quieter now. “He was abusive, Mia. And you still keep putting me in situations where I have to see him. Do you even care how that feels for me?”

Her expression shifted, guilt flickering across her face before she crossed her arms defensively. “Of course, I care,” she said. “But it’s not like I’m dragging you into this on purpose. I mean, what am I supposed to do? Ghost Topper because you and Rafe had a shitty relationship?”

The words hit you like a slap, your anger twisting into something deeper—something closer to hurt. “I’m not asking you to break things off with him,” you said, your voice trembling. “I’m asking you to have some fucking empathy. You’re supposed to be my friend, Mia.”

“I am your friend,” she shot back. “But maybe you need to stop blaming me for everything. I didn’t make you date him, and I didn’t make you stay with him when things got bad. That was your choice.”

You flinched, the accusation cutting deeper than you expected. For a second, you thought about yelling, about telling her to leave and never come back. But instead, you turned away, your chest tight with something between anger and sadness.

“Just… go, Mia,” you said quietly. “I can’t do this right now.”

She hesitated, her arms still crossed. “Fine,” she said after a moment, her voice tight. “But don’t expect me to keep putting up with this shit forever.”

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving you alone in the silence of the room.

~~~~~

You were sitting on your bed, the faint glow of your desk lamp casting long shadows across the walls. The air felt heavy, the silence broken only by the sound of Rafe pacing in front of you.

“Let me see your phone,” he said, his voice low and clipped.

You froze, clutching the device tighter. “Why?”

“Because,” he snapped, facing you with a sharp glare. “I saw Bella texting you earlier. What did she say?”

“Nothing important,” you said quickly, your stomach twisting.

He didn’t believe you. “Show me.”

You hesitated, your fingers trembling as you unlocked your phone and handed it over. He snatched it from your grasp, scrolling through your messages with a storm brewing in his eyes.

His jaw clenched as he stopped on Bella’s most recent text:

“r u ok? im rlly worried about u and rafe. u don’t have to stay with him yk. u deserve sm better. <3”

“Worried about us?” Rafe said, his voice dripping with mockery. “What’s she so worried about, huh? Did you tell her we had a fight? That’s cute.”

“I didn’t tell her anything,” you said quickly, your chest tightening. “She’s just… she’s just being a good friend.”

“She’s not your friend,” he said sharply, tossing the phone onto the bed. “She’s trying to break us up. You think I’m stupid? You think I don’t see what’s going on?”

“She’s not trying to break us up,” you insisted, your voice trembling. “She’s just—”

“Shut up,” he interrupted, his tone cold and final. “You’re done talking to her. Do you hear me? You’re going to block her, and you’re not going to say another word to her. She’s gone.”

“No,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible. “You’ve already made me cut off everyone else. Bella’s the only friend I have left.”

“You still have me... you have Mia,” Rafe said, stepping closer, his shadow looming over you. “That should be enough for you. You don’t need anyone else.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall. “This isn’t protection, Rafe. This is fucking control-”

The words barely left your mouth before his hand slammed against the wall beside your head, making you flinch.

“What did you just say?” he demanded, his voice dangerously low.

You didn’t answer.

~~~~~~~~

You woke with a gasp, your heart pounding as you sat up in bed. The room was dark, the faint glow of your phone the only source of light. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, the weight of the dream pressing down on your chest.

Even now, after everything, he still had a hold on you.

~~~~~~~~

It was late when you found yourself outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin. You hadn’t meant to leave the dorm, but sitting in that room, surrounded by memories and silence, felt unbearable.

You ended up at the campus library steps, the faint glow of streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. It was quiet and peaceful in a way that almost felt foreign.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You turned, startled, to see Cam leaning against the railing, a book in one hand and a thermos in the other. His smile was easy, and his presence grounding, making you feel like you could finally take a breath.

“Something like that,” you admitted, sitting down beside him.

He didn’t press or ask why your eyes were rimmed with exhaustion or why you were out so late. Instead, he offered you the thermos, the warmth of it seeping into your palms as you held it.

“I saw you at the beach,” he said after a moment, his tone careful.

You stiffened but didn’t look at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He hesitated. “You okay?”

You thought about lying, about brushing it off like you always did. But the words slipped out before you could stop them.

“No.”

He nodded like he’d expected that, his gaze steady as he looked at you. “If you ever want to talk…”

“I don’t,” you said quickly, cutting him off. Then, softer: “Not yet.”

“That’s fine,” he said easily, leaning back against the steps. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You didn’t respond, but for the first time in what felt like forever, the silence didn’t feel so heavy.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

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Wanna see more? Check out my fic ‘i don’t smoke’

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nottheeconomy · 1 year ago

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The beautifully dashing leader of the phantom thieves and the charming detective princess!

My take on fem shuake!!!

I like my toxic doomed yaoi but toxic doomed Yuri hits so much harder when it comes to these two

(Brainrot under the read more!)

If Shuake were girls they would be so much more volatile than canon it’s hilarious

Honestly if Akechi was born a girl instead of a boy his already terrible life would be twice as hard hahahaha

Fem Akechi would have a much harder time willingly refraining from directly murdering shido

Like canon Akechi is this close to just shooting him in the head anytime he sees him but fem Akechi would have so much more temptation to see him dead dead dead

She’s going to have to withstand his disgustingly sexist statements with a bright smile on her face as shido says things like “oh Akechi, you’re not like those other women that only serve to further this country’s great longevity through rearing the young, you’re different, more capable.” And she needs to let those slimy words go in one ear and out if she’s going to be patient enough for him to be elected first

Not to mention she’s going to experience so much more scrutiny as a public idol since she’ll be a girl

Like in canon he already has a questionable fanbase but just imagine the weirdos that’ll idolise her as the detective princess

And she’s definitely not going to be taken as seriously by people for her detective work because people would JUST WRITE HER OFF AS A PRETTY FACE!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA JUST THE THOUGHT OF HOW MUCH HARDER FEM AKECHI HAS TO CLIMB TO THE TOP TO GET TO WHERE SHE IS!!!!!

She’s going to curate every facet of her image to make sure people takes her as seriously as possible

Her style needs to be trendy but not too trendy or people would call her vain

She needs to be careful of showing too much skin or she’ll be slutshamed

She needs to word her statements more delicately or else people would call her annoying do you see the visionnnnnnnnn

Like canon Akechi’s public mask is already so tightly wound against his face, fem Akechi’s public mask would be a full suit of armour (get it get it? Hahahahhaha)

Meanwhile! If Akira was a girl, the notion of her being a meddler when she tries to stop shido would be much stronger I think

Also I have a feeling she’s going to get harassed at shujin for having her criminal record leaked instead of how in canon everyone left Akira alone due to fear since people won’t take her assault charge as seriously

And then there’s kamoshida…eugh

So in conclusion:

I just think both of them would have so much more pent up rage than in canon hahahahahha

Like I’m sure they would’ve physically thrown hands in the boiler room of shido’s ship, like forget about the personas they’re going to throttle each other as the rest of the thieves watch hahahahahahhaa

On the bright side though I can see fem Akechi being closer to Sae and the detective princess being a role model to little girls

Hm but I have a feeling the rivalry between Akechi and Akira would feel like those early 2010s tabloid articles about how female stars had beef with each other, like it’ll be framed as something super catty hahahahaha

Man these girlies are filled with so much anger, honestly it’ll be so iconic if Akechi and Akira were written as girls but I err don’t have that much trust in Altus!

These are just my silly headcanons for fem Shuake! If you disagree with what I said it’s ok hahahahaha

#persona 5 #Shuake #akeshu #goro Akechi #akira kurusu #fem Akechi #fem Akira #the economy is producing #to whoever that actually read that giant wall of text #you’re now contractually obliged to share your headcanons with me hahahahah #just kidding just kidding #…unless???

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bloodibambiidoll · 1 year ago

Text

White Rabbit

Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Summary: Rafe goes to Barry for help with his “pouge problem” but he gets more help than he bargained for when he meets Barry’s cousin in the most unsuspecting way. He can’t stay away from her, despite Barry’s protests, especially when she’s just as unhinged as he is. Takes place during season 2 episode 4 “Homecoming”. Wk: 6.9k.(oops)

Warnings: Gun violence(reader shoots a guy but doesn’t kill him), cocaine use(both reader and rafe), Barry is not super stoked about R and Rafe being into each other, unprotected sex, oral (m & f), choking, hair pulling, face fucking, Dom!Rafe, Sub!Reader, unhinged reader, spit kink, digration, daddy kink, a lil spanking, biting, Rafe & R are obsessed with each other, R has the nickname “bunny” & is implied to be alternative, her outfit is described but other than that no physical descriptions. Lmk if I missed any please! 18+MNDI!!

A/N: This is my first time ever writing for Rafe, so it might not be the best ever but I fell for this man so hard and I just needed to write him with an unhinged girl. Shout out to my girl @babygorewhore for not only beta reading but hyping me up/brainstorming with me through this entire fic. I might make this into a series of some sort. Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!✨🖤

Rafe slammed his truck door shut as he walked up to Barry’s porch, scoffing when he saw him sitting there with his feet propped up while he read a book.

“Hey, you got my shit?”

“Shit, you’re early.” Barry closes his book and sets it down on the table in front of him, a condescending smirk spreading across his lips.

“Do you have my shit or not, man?” Rafe groans as he plops his large body down onto the rundown cushion of one of the porch chairs.

“Yeah, I got yo shit.” Barry chuckles, pulling the baggy from his pocket and tossing it on the table. “You got my money?”

“Yeah.” Rafe pulls a wad of cash from his pocket and slaps it into his hand before grabbing the baggy so he can make himself line. He snorts it, letting out a deep breath after. “I need a piece too.”

“Hooohoooo!! You need a piece? Country Club Killer now, huh?” Barry laughs, his hand coming down to slap his knee.

“Don’t!!” Rafe slams his hand on the table. “Mess with me right now.”

“Aight, what the hell you need a piece for?”

“John B is fucking back.”

“John B is fucking dead dude.”

“Nah man, I saw him for myself in the Bahamas, and just now Top saw him in town with my sister scoring beer.”

“FUCK!!!!” Barry kicks the table, sending it flying a few feet away. “Are you fuckin’ kiddin me? I’m done playing with these kids bruh.”

Barry kicks himself up from his seat, walking over to a locker on the side of the porch. He enters the combination before he pulls out a gun and starts to load it.

“You wanna be done with those little shits once and for all? You’re gonna need a lot more than just a piece. You gotta start going at this shit like a soldier.” He spins the barrel, clicking it into place before handing the gun to Rafe.

“You do this, you know I’ll take care of you, alright? You won’t be doing this shit for nothing man I’ll -“

“YOU THINK I’M SCARED OF YOU, YOU LITTLE BITCH?” A male voice came booming from behind the house.

“IF YOU AREN’T NOW, YOU FUCKING WILL BE!” Another voice followed, but this one was unmistakably female.

“Dude, what the fuck was that? Is that chick okay? Should you like - I don’t know - deal with that or some shit?” Rafe’s blue eyes scan the other man’s face for signs of distress but it was almost like if he hadn’t mentioned it, he wouldn’t have even noticed.

“Nah bro, that’s my cousin. She’s got it, stop trippin. We doin’ this or not?”

There’s a loud crash and then he hears the girl's voice again.

“I TOLD YOU TO GET ON YOUR FUCKING KNEES, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!!!”

“Dude I’m gonna go check it out, that doesn’t sound good.” Rafe isn’t sure why he really gives a shit if this random chick who he hasn’t even seen is alright or not, maybe he’s just high and paranoid. Either way his curiosity gets the best of him and he starts walking towards the back of Barry’s place.

“She doesn’t need your help pretty boy, trust me.” Barry snorts and shakes his head as he begrudgingly follows him.

When Rafe rounds the corner the sight he sees is far from what he was expecting. The man who he heard yelling was shorter than him but more built, probably middle aged, he wore a white tank top and black board shorts and the look in his eyes told him that he was definitely one of Barry’s customers or less reliable dealers. The girl on the other hand? You were half his size, your hair in two braids with ribbons tied at the ends of them, you were wearing a tiny little baby pink tank top and black spandex shorts that barely covered her ass. You had combat boots on your feet that had little white ruffle socks sticking out of the top of them, but what was most shocking? You were holding a Glock in one of your small hands, and the collar of the man’s tank top was gathered in the other. You were standing on your tiptoes whilst also pulling the man down so he was face level with you, the Glock held to his head.

“I said, get on your fucking knees mother fucker, you got a hearing problem or some shit?” You growl at the man and it sends shivers down Rafe’s spine. You were beautiful. He watches as you shove the Glock into the man’s temple and ram your boot clad heel into his thigh causing him to fall to his knees with a grunt.

“Much better.” You smile as you tap his cheek with the gun before bringing it back to the side of his head. “Now, where the fuck is my fucking money?”

“I told you! I told you I don’t fucking have it right now I just need a little time!” The man’s voice is shaky now, his eyes traveling between you and the gun held to his head.

“Time? This isn’t a fucking loan service! Get me my money by tomorrow, or you’re fucked!” Your eyes are filled with fire and you let out a dry laugh.

“What’re you gonna do? Send Barry after me? Where is he at? He knows I always pay, just let me talk to hi-“ He’s cut off abruptly when you hit him across the cheek with the gun.

“SHUT UP!! You’re not fucking talking to Barry, you’re talking to me. If you don’t get my money you aren’t going to have to deal with him, you’re going to have to deal with me. Which I promise you don’t fucking want.” Rafe watches as you lean down into the guy's face, your eyes boring into his, a sinister smile paints your lips, and he isn’t even ashamed of the fact that he felt his cock stir in his pants at your display of dominance over this man twice your size. “Got it??”

“I don’t know how you expect me to get that amount by tomorrow I-“ The man grunts when you hit him in the face with the gun again, his face whipping to the side.

“I said, got it?” You hold the gun between his eyes, your smile never faltering.

“Yeah - yeah! I got it! I got it! Can I go now!?” The man holds his hands by his head in surrender, seemingly not wanting to argue with you further.

“I fucking mean it asshole, tomorrow, by sunset.” You glare at him momentarily before your smile returns, tapping his cheek with the gun again before turning to walk off.

“You aren’t gonna do shit bitch, you’re nothing without that little gun.”

Rafe’s blue eyes widen as he watches the man’s hand reach out and grab for your Glock. He subconsciously takes a step forward in your defense but soon realizes maybe you really don’t need help. Your body whips around, pulling the gun from the guy's reach and shooting him in the foot all in one motion. He screams out in pain, his hands grabbing onto his foot as he falls to the ground.

“Bring me my fucking money. Tomorrow. Or you’re going to be in a lot more pain than that.” You crouch down and spit in the guy's face before walking over him and into the house, letting the door slam shut behind you. Rafe stands there with his dick half hard and his jaw hanging open as he stares at the closed door you just disappeared behind.

“I told you she fuckin’ had it, and don’t even fuckin’ think about it, country club.” Barry’s voice snaps him out of his trance.

“Wha-? Think about what?”

“I see how you’re fuckin’ lookin at her dude, that’s like my sister in there. You stay your messy ass away from her, aight?”

“We should go check on her…” Rafe ignores Barry’s warning, walking towards the house despite his protests.

You let out an agitated groan as you flop down on the couch and toss your Glock on the cushion next to you. You grab a little clear baggy off the coffee table and sprinkle some of the powder onto the small mirror in front of you, using the random gift card you found in your wallet to push a portion of it into a straight line. You grab the rolled dollar bill sitting on the mirror and bring it up to your nose so fucking ready for this line after dealing with that shit head, but right when you bend over the front door slams open, causing you to jump back. Your foot hits the table and the movement makes a mess of your line. You let out a curse under your breath, your eyes rising to glare at your intruder.

You expect Barry, or maybe that fucking idiot really did want to lose a finger today. But instead of the brown eyes of your cousin, or the bloodshot hazel ones of your unreliable dealer, your eyes lock with piercing blue ones. You have to physically stop yourself from gasping at the sight of the man in front of you. He’s tall, really tall, and built, his chest and arms perfectly filling out the blue button up shirt he wore. His chestnut hair looked silky to the touch, his jaw looked perfect for biting, and his face was just all around beautiful. Especially those eyes, the look in them stern. There was something else there you couldn’t quite decipher, it almost seemed possessive.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his voice laced with concern.

“Uh - yeah? Aside from the fact that you just scared the shit out of me and made me knock my line all over the table, I’m just peachy.” You scoff, throwing him a playful smirk and roll of your eyes.

“Country Club here seems to think you’re some kinda damsel in distress or some shit.” Barry walks through the door behind him, smacking his bicep with the back of his hand and laughing loudly.

“Damsel in distress, huh? I don’t think I’d mind if a pretty boy like you came to my rescue.” You bite your bottom lip, your eyes roaming his figure.

“Hell fuckin’ nah! Quit that shit out right now, Bunny. I mean it. I told him the same shit, I don’t want this.” He gestures between you and Rafe. “To be a thing. You two are a recipe for fuckin’ disaster. This is Rafe Cameron, the dude I was tellin’ you about.”

“What the fuck did you tell her about me man?” Rafe’s voice comes out almost panicked and you find yourself wanting to comfort him immediately. You jump up from your seat and walk around the table so you can stand in front of him. He’s even taller up close, you have to tilt your head all the way to meet his eyes and you stop yourself from clenching your thighs at the height difference.

“So this is the guy that killed the sheriff, huh? Pretty boy is a cop killer? I find that kind of sexy…” You twirl a strand of your hair between your fingers, your teeth subconsciously finding your bottom lip again as you look up at him through your lashes.

“Barry, what the hell man? You told her that shit?” He addresses the other man but his eyes don’t leave yours, the look in them changed from concern to defense, and maybe a little lust? He was honestly looking at you like he wanted to choke you to death and this time you really couldn’t stop yourself from clenching your thighs where you stood.

“Hey, I’m not going to rat you out or some shit. Barry gave me the low down on everyone on the island when I moved, if I’m going to work for him I need to know the ins and outs, ya know? He trusts me, if you trust him, you can trust me. I’m cool.” You give him a smile that you hope is reassuring, you aren’t sure why but you want him to trust you.

“Alright.” His eyes search your face, almost as if he’s trying to read your thoughts, to see if you really mean it.

“Alright, we good?” You extend your hand towards him and he takes it in his much larger one, shaking it.

“We’re good.” You go to pull your hand away but he tightens his grasp, keeping it held in his. “You didn’t tell me your name though, or should I just call you, what did Barry call you? Bunny?”

“Bunny is preferred, but you can call me my real name too, if you’d like.” You let your thumb run across the back of his hand as you tell him your name, your eyes never leaving his.

“AIGHT! That’s enough of alla that.” Barry pushes past you, plopping down on the couch he grabs the bong on the coffee table and starts to load it.

“Bare, stop acting like you’re in charge of who I flirt with. I'm a grown ass woman, you're being dramatic.” You scoff, sending him a death glare.

“Seriously man, you’re acting like you’re her dad or some shit.” He chuckles when your cousin flips him off. “I’m sorry about your line by the way, I really just came to check in on you after I saw you arguing with that asshole out there. Let me make it up to you.”

Rafe brings his hand up to your shoulder, running his thumb over the blade a few times before letting it graze down your arm as he walks towards the couch. You watch as he sits down next to Barry and picks up your gift card, expertly lining the fine power back into a nice row before patting the cushion next to him. A smile breaks across your lips as you take the empty seat. He doesn’t miss the way your tits bounce when your ass hits the couch and the smell of your sweet perfume makes his cock twitch.

“For you, pretty girl.” He holds the folded dollar bill up to you with a smirk and you happily take it from him.

“Thanks, cutie.” You wink at him. When you lean down Rafe notices your hair is in your way so like it’s the most casual thing in the world he brings his large hand up to your face and sweeps the straw pieces behind your ear. He pushes the rest of it behind your shoulder and his hand stays there while you inhale through your nostril. His touch doesn’t leave you, even when you lean back against the couch, he simply adjusts it so it’s around your shoulder.

“You gonna flirt with my cousin all goddamn night or are we gonna deal with your little pouge problem?”

“Pouge problem? What’s going on?” You raise your eyebrows, your eyes traveling between Barry and Rafe.

“You remember that little fucker John B I was telling you about? His ass is alive and back on the island.” Barry shakes his head and lets out a dry laugh.

“That’s the kid the cops think killed the sheriff, right? Damn. That’s not good for you, Rafe.” You make eye contact and bite your lip nervously. “Those kids know you actually killed her, don’t they?”

“Yeah, and my fucking sister is with them. Her and John B were there, they saw the whole goddamn thing.” Rafe groans, his hands running through his hair in frustration. “I can’t have them opening their fucking mouths. I just can’t.”

“Then you know what you have to do, right? Shut them the fuck up, once and for all.” Your eyes darken and it reminded him of the way they looked outside, when you were holding a gun to your dealer's head.

“Yeah, no shit dude, that’s why I said we were going to deal with it.” Barry scoffs, rolling his eyes at you.

“Okay, I don’t know what the hell is up with you attitude Bare, but fucking ditch it.” You glare at him as you grab the couch pillow next to you and throw it at his face.

“Oh? You wanna fuckin’ go bruh?” Your cousin grins at you, gripping the pillow in his hand and swinging it over Rafe’s body, directly into your face with a cackle.

“Oh you mother fucker!” You let out a laugh, your hands go for the pillow but it’s ripped from your grasp.

“CUT IT THE FUCK OUT!!” Rafe takes the pillow in his large ringed hand and throws it across the room causing you to jump, your smile falling. “Barry, are you gonna help me or not man?”

“Hey.” Your eyes are soft again, you put your hand on his chest and rub soft circles onto his skin through his shirt with the pad of your thumb. “He’s going to help you, and I will too. We were just fucking around, everything’s alright. You’re probably under a lot of stress, huh? Poor thing.”

Rafe isn’t exactly sure how to react. No one has ever taken his anger and looked at it as more than just that, anger, yet here you are knowing him for all of ten minutes and the minute he loses his temper you see it for what it is, stress. Plus you’re kind of coddling him, and he’s never had anyone coddle him before. He almost feels speechless.

“I’m not gonna suck your dick about it like she is but I’m gonna help you man, fuckin’ relax. We doin’ this shit tonight?” Barry cracks his knuckles and kicks his feet up on the coffee table, earning an immediate glare from you. He scoffs, taking his feet off the table with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t know why you care so much if my feet are on the table dude, it’s my fuckin’ table anyways.”

“The drugs I put inside my nose are on this table, I don’t want your dirty ass shoes on it. It's common sense really.” He rolls his eyes and you flip him off, sticking your tongue out at him.

“Yeah man, tonight. I want to give this shit over with. I bet you anything they’re at John B’s. They’re stupid enough to go there.” Rafe’s hand is tapping on his already shaking leg and you can tell he’s anxious, you reach out and grab it, stopping his motions. He doesn’t look at you, but he intertwines your fingers, his hand squeezing yours. You squeeze his back and bring your other hand to his bicep so you can rub soothing circles on it. He lets out a sigh. “Once it’s dark, then they won’t see us coming.”

“Aight, let’s do this shit. Bunny, you in?” Barry raises a brow at you, his eyes lingering on the way you’re touching Rafe. “Also, I thought I said I didn’t want this to be a thing.”

“It could be dangerous, I don’t know if you should come, I wouldn't want anything to happen to you.” Rafe answers before you can, his hand squeezing yours again in what you assume is supposed to be reassurance but it actually just pisses you off.

“Okay.” Your voice is stern, your hands leave him as you stand from the couch and he immediately misses your touch. “I wanna get something straight, right fucking now. I am not some weak little girl who sits at home while all the fun shit goes down. If that’s the kinda girl you’re into, you are not going to find that with me. I’m a ride or die type of bitch. If my man is in trouble, I’m helping him. So if you want this to be a ‘thing’ as Barry is calling it, then I suggest you accept that sooner rather than later.”

“And you, have no fucking say in who I do and don’t engage with sexually or romatically. Me and Rafe clearly have chemistry and I could tell that the moment I locked eyes with him, so you’re just going to have to get the fuck over it. Are we clear? Both of you?” You look between them, your hands on your hips and that fire Rafe is already becoming addicted to in your eyes.

“Whatever, your lil ass has always been fuckin’ impossible to control. If this blows up in your face I’m gonna say I told you so, cuz.” Barry snorts.

“Yeah baby, I got it.” Rafe cuts in, sending a shockwave through your body with the pet name. “I saw you out there with that guy, you might be tougher than Barry.”

This makes you smile, your eyes turning soft as you approach him on the couch. This time you don’t take the seat next to him, you sit across his lap, facing your cousin with a triumphant smile. Rafe's arm circles around your waist and you nestle in closer to him.

“Alright then. Glad we are all on the same page now. So what’s the plan?”

“FUCK!!!!” Rafe was pissed, he threw himself into the driver's seat of his truck, slamming his hands down on the wheel. “FUCKING BULLSHIT!! THEY HAD TO OF JUST BEEN FUCKING BEEN THERE! POUGE FOR LIFE SARAH?! HUH?! I SEE HOW IT FUCKING IS!!”

“Rafe…” You approach the open driver's door, gently resting your hand on top of one of his that was white knuckling the steering wheel. Completely unafraid, despite the fact that he’s still holding the gun Barry gave him in his other hand. “Let’s just calm down for a second, okay? We’re gonna work it out, they aren’t going to fuck with you.”

“ARE YOU SERIOUS? I’M FUCKED! YOU DON’T FUCKING GET IT! YOU DON’T KNOW MY FUCKING DAD! YOU DON’T KNOW MY FAMILY, IF IT COMES BETWEEN ME AND MY GODDAMN SISTER HE’S GONNA FUCKING CHOOSE HER!!!” His hands leave the wheel, weaving through his hair and tugging, the gun pressed up against the side of his face.

“Hey.” You put your hands over his, turning his face towards yours. “I might not know about all that shit, maybe not yet at least, but I know that when I say I’m going to do something I get it done. You aren’t alone in this, I’m going to help you, okay?”

Your voice is sweet, the look in your eyes is gentle and reassuring, and your hands? They’re so soft, and cool against his face, the feeling of them soothes him in a way he’s never felt before. He lets out a sigh, relaxing under your touch.

“We are going to deal with this, but for right now we need to get the fuck out of here. Those gunshots could’ve caught someone’s attention.” You run your thumbs over the top of his hands before grabbing onto the gun, pulling it from his grasp with a smile. You tuck it into your boot and lean up onto your tiptoes to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Yeah, alright.” He nods, his hands smoothing through his hair.

You walk around the front of the truck so you can hop into the passenger seat, Barry already sat in the back anxiously bouncing his leg.

“Okay, let’s take Barry back to the house and then I think you and I should go somewhere together.” You buckle your seatbelt and turn to face him.

“Yeah? Where?” He shoves the keys in the ignition and puts the truck in drive, pulling away from the Châtea and into the night.

“Just trust me, I know a spot.” You kick your feet up on the dash, reaching into your purse for a cigarette and your lighter.

“Every instinct in my body is telling me to tell you to bring your ass home with me, but you’re not gonna listen to me for shit so I’m not gonna waste my breath. Gimme one of those fuckin’ cigarettes though.” Barry leans forward, snatching the entire pack and your lighter from your hands.

“Yeah, you’re better off not arguing with me Bare. Fucking give those back though, dick.” He rolls his eyes, lighting the cigarette he took from your pack before throwing it back to you.

“Yeah whatever, just fuckin’ take me home man.”

“Okay, take a left here and on your right you’re gonna see a little road that goes through these trees.” You point out the window, directing Rafe as he drives.

“Where the hell are you taking me, huh? You taking me out somewhere quiet to sacrifice me?” He chuckles, looking over at you with a smirk.

“Mmm, I bet you’d like that, huh? Preppy rich boys like you always like the fucked up alternative girls from the sticks.” You return his smirk with one of your own.

“Ha! I guess you’re right, I wouldn’t mind if you spilled a little bit of my blood, as long as I could spill yours too…” he reaches the end of the road, driving into a clearing in the trees, a patch of lone beach in front of you.

“Yeah? That’s hot. Stop here.” He obliges, putting the truck into park and taking off his seatbelt. You do the same, turning towards him with your legs tucked underneath you.

“What’re we really doing out here, vampire girl?” His eyes meet yours momentarily before the trail down your body, taking extra time to admire your tits in your top.

“Mmm, well, I know you’re really stressed and I just thought… maybe you could take some of your frustrations out on me?” You lock eyes with him, your tongue running over your bottom lip before you take it between your teeth.

“Yeah? You brought me out here so I would fuck the shit out of you?” He licks his lips, his large hand reaches out to rest on your thigh, squeezing the meat of it between his fingers.

“Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t want to take me home after that shit you said about your family and Barry would probably either kill us both or have a stroke if you fucked me how I want you to fuck me at my place.” You said it oh so matter of fact, that smirk ever present on your lips.

“And how do you want me to fuck you? Huh, bunny?” His hand runs along the length of your thigh, stopping at the hem of your shorts. He grabs onto it, the tips of his thumb and his pinky just dipping under the fabric.

“I want you to fuck me like you hate me, take your frustrations out on me, Rafe. Use me.” Your voice comes out desperate and it makes him groan.

“I’ve barely even touched you yet and you’re already practically begging for me… you wanna be my little slut, that it?” His thumb runs down the seam of your shorts, stopping at your wet core. “You’re fucking dripping. I can feel it through your panties.”

“It’s all for you, want you, want to be your little slut so bad.”

“Fuck.” The hand not on your thigh reaches for your throat, squeezing it and cutting off your air supply in the most delicious way. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

He uses his grip on your throat to pull your face to his, smashing his lips against your own in a bruising kiss. You moan against his mouth and he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips. You bring your hands up to tangle your fingers through his hair at the same time that his hand on your thigh pushes your shorts and panties to the side, burying two fingers in your wet cunt with little resistance. He begins pumping them in and out of you while his grip on your throat never falters. He pulls away from the kiss, his blue eyes almost black with lust as they bore into your own. His thumb finds your clit and your back arches, a loud moan ripping through you.

“Open your fucking mouth.” You oblige, sticking your tongue out and looking up at him through your lashes. He leans over you and lets a string of spit drop onto your waiting tongue. You moan as you happily swallow it. “Good girl. Want you to cum for me.”

His fingers hook just right inside you, rubbing against your g-spot and his thumb circles your clit perfectly. You feel your high approaching fast, you push your tank top down, letting your braless tits fall free. You grab them in your hands, tweaking your nipples, it causes your eyes to roll back and you feel that coil in your stomach about to snap. Rafe’s hand leaves your throat and grips onto your jaw in one swift motion.

“Fucking look at me when I make you cum.” He squeezes your cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger, causing your lips to pout. “I own this pussy now, that means I own your orgasms too, look at me while I take what’s mine.”

You open your eyes, and the minute they meet his your high crashes over you like a tidal wave. A broken moan leaves your throat and your walls clench around his large fingers as they continue to fuck you through your high. He pulls them from your pussy, holding them up to his face to examine them. They’re creamy white and glistening in the moonlight. You grab his wrist and take them into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them. He growls in response, shoving them further down your throat. You gag and he licks his lips, the sound going straight to his cock.

“Fuck, wanna feel you gagging around my dick. Get out of the truck and get on your knees, now.” He pulls his fingers from between your lips and takes them into his own mouth. The taste of your spit mixed with the remainder of your arousal sending his eyes to the back of his head. You follow his direction, hastily throwing the truck door open and getting out. You start to walk around the back and he stops you halfway, grabbing you by the hair so he can pull your head back, forcing you to look up at him. “I’m going to fuck this pretty little mouth while you kneel in the sand like the dirty slut you are. Bet you’d like that, huh?”

You nod as best as you can with the grip he has on your head, that sickeningly sweet smirk from when he first saw you earlier that day spread across your lips.

“Yeah, daddy, I want you to use my mouth like a fucking cock sleeve.” His eyes widen and a groan rips through him at the sound of that name leaving your lips.

“Fuck. Take this off.” He grabs the hem of your tank top and you lift your arms so he can pull it over your head. He takes your tits in his hands and squeezes them, the coolness of them sending a shiver down your spine and straight to your core, your nipples hardening under his touch. “Fucking perfect tits. Knees. Now.”

You drop to your knees and eagerly reach for the button on his shorts undoing it and his zipper in one swift motion. His cock is straining against his black boxers and your mouth waters at the sight. You pull his shorts and boxers down and it springs free, thick and hard and leaking just for you. You knew he would be big, but goddamn his cock is huge.

“Mmm daddy, you’re so big, fuck.” You spit on your hand and bring it to his shaft, lightly stroking him. That bead of precum on his head is practically begging you to taste it so you lean forward and lick his slit with the tip of your tongue. You circle his tip before taking it in your mouth and sucking eagerly.

“Yeah, that’s right baby, suck daddy’s cock.” His hands grab onto your braids like makeshift handlebars and he uses his grip to push himself all the way down your throat, causing you to gag around him. He holds your head there for a few seconds before pulling you off with a pop. Your mouth subconsciously chases his taste. “Oh you’re such an eager little whore huh? You like that? You like gagging on my cock?”

You nod and his grip on your hair tightens, pulling your head back so you’re looking up into his eyes.

“Fuckin’ answer me when I’m talking to you.”

“Yes - yes daddy, I fucking love it.”

“That’s what I thought.” He smirks down at you, shoving his cock back into your mouth and immediately thrusting into your throat. You gag and your eyes water, your mascara already starting to run down your cheeks. “God. Fucking look at you, I can see my cock in your throat baby.”

So much drool is dripping out of the sides of your mouth that it’s started to run down your chest and onto your tits. You swipe your fingers through it, wetting them before bringing them to his balls, caressing them in your lubed up hand.

“Oh fuck! Yeah, shiiiiit, play with my fucking balls, that’s so fucking good.” You look up at him and his head is thrown back, his neck on display, you can see all the veins in his biceps and the moans leaving him are feral. Your pussy clenches around nothing at the sight. Your hand travels between your legs and into your little spandex shorts, expertly finding your already slick clit and rubbing quick circles over it. Your moans increase in volume and it causes him to glance down at you, taking notice of your hand in your shorts.

“Hey, what the fuck did I say huh?” He pulls you off of him, bending at the waist so his face is hovering over yours. “I said that’s my fucking pussy, that means I’m the only one who gets to make you cum. Get up.”

He lets go of your hair, grabbing you underneath your arms and pulling you to your feet. He turns towards the truck and rips the bed open, grabbing onto your hips and roughly turning you. He pushes down on your back, and you take the hint, bending at the waist so your top half is against the truck bed. The plastic floor is cool and rough against your nipples and your lower half hangs off the truck, your feet not touching the ground. A harsh smack lands on your ass, causing you to help and jolt forward.

“You’re not so tough now, huh, vampire girl? Your pathetic dealers know you’re just a little slut who likes to get thrown around? Or is that just for me?” He grabs onto your shorts and panties, ripping them down to your ankles where they pool at the top of your boots. “Look at you, you’re so fucking wet.”

He drops to his knees, his tongue licking a stripe from your clit to your asshole and back again. He sucks your sensitive bud into his mouth and his hand comes down on your ass again. You feel like you’re going to cum embarrassingly soon. His fingers run through your slick lips before they’re sliding inside you, immediately hooking into your sweet spot. You cum suddenly and hard, your whole body shaking underneath him.

“Please fuck me now daddy, please, I want your cock so bad” you voice is whiney and you shake your ass from side to side, arching your back so it’s further on display for him.

“Quit begging, I’m gonna give you what you want, don’t be a greedy brat.” He stands, two harsh smacks landing on your ass. He takes his cock in his hand and runs the head through your slit, coating it in your wetness. He pushes into you in one swift motion, and immediately starts fucking you at a brutal pace.

“Yes! Fuck! You’re so big, feels so full.” Your voice is a breathy moan, his cock feels like it’s in your lungs and the door to the truck bed is digging into your hips but god it feels so good. His hands are grabbing your hips so roughly that you think his nails might be drawing blood, and god you hope they are. You want him to mark you as his, anywhere and everywhere.

“Fuuuuck, you’re so fucking tight, gripping my cock so good. This pussy was fucking made for me. Say it.” He leans over you, practically crushing you, but his cock hits even deeper than before and his mouth latches onto your neck and it’s like he read your mind because he starts to roughly suck and bite into your skin. Definitely leaving marks behind. “Say it. Say this pussy was made for me.”

“This pussy was fucking made for you, daddy.” You arch your back, pushing your ass back against him the best you can with your limited movement, wanting to feel every ridge and vein of him as deep inside you as possible.

“Yeah it fucking was.” He leans back, his hand gripping onto your hair again so he can pull your back against his chest. The sting of the truck against your hips at an all time high. He releases your hair so he can grip onto your throat instead, his other hand coming down to rub your clit. The feelings of pain mixed with pleasure sending you closer and closer to another orgasm. “You gonna cum already? I can feel you tightening around my cock baby girl.”

“Yeah - yeah I’m - fuck - I’m gonna cum for you daddy, you just feel sofuckinggood.” You’re a drooling whimpering mess and the coil is seconds away from snapping when he stops his movements and pulls out of you, taking your orgasm with him. “Hey what-“

Before you can protest he grips onto your hips, flipping you over onto your back. He grabs your throat and pulls you into a sitting position, grabbing onto your thigh with his other hand so he can pull you to the edge of the truck.

“I told you, I want you to look at me when you cum. You owe me for that last one.” He slams his cock into you, continuing to fuck you like his life depends on it. His thumb finds your clit again and his mouth latches onto your neck, biting down so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if you had a bruise in the shape of his teeth marks. You’d get it tattooed if he wanted. You already knew at that moment this man had ruined all other men for you. He had you.

“Fuck - fuck daddy, I’m gonna - I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum”

“Fucking cum for me, I’ll fill this little pussy up, paint your walls with my cum. Milk my cock, slut.”

His words send you over the edge, cumming harder than you have all night. Your walls convulse around him and your nails rake down his back, leaving red marks in their wake. But that’s not what does him in, it’s the fact that you never break eye contact with him for a second. Obeying him like the good girl you are.

“Fuck! Good fucking girl, best fucking pussy I’ve ever had. Never gonna leave you alone now. Never quitting this pussy.” He cums with a growl, shoving his cock deep inside you. He fucks you through his high, his thrusts never letting up, his face shoved into your neck. When he finally starts to come down he lets his softening cock slip out of you, his lips finding yours and kissing you with fever.

“Never quittting this pussy, huh, pretty boy? That’s a bold statement to make about a girl you just met.” You smirk at him, taking his face in his hands and caressing his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Don’t fucking care, I meant every word. You’re fucking mine now.” He turns his head to the side, placing a kiss on the inside of your palm.

“Does that mean you’re mine too? I don’t do one sided bullshit.”

“Yeah baby, that means I’m yours too. Come on, get your clothes on, let’s get the fuck out of here.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips, grabbing your clothes off the sandy ground and shaking them out before handing them to you.

“You gonna take me home now? Barry is just gonna love all the hickies I know you left on my neck.” You smirk at him, pulling your shirt over your head.

“Nah, I’m bringing you home with me. Gonna fuck you all night long.” He cups your jaw in his hand, his thumb running over your bottom lip.

“What about your family?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Fuck em, you’re my girl now, they’re going to have to get used to it. Get your ass in the truck, I wanna fuck you in my shower.”

You giggle, running around to jump in the truck. You didn’t even see his family that night. But they definitely heard Rafe making good on his promise to fuck you all night long and you couldn’t even find it in yourself to feel bad. Not that night, and not the next morning when he introduced you to his dad and step mom while they had disgusted looks on their faces. You just smiled, happily shaking their hands like you weren’t calling their son daddy until the sun came up.

Tagging moots who might be interested: @chrrymunson @emsgoodthinkin @imyourdaninow 🖤

#rafe Cameron #rafe OBX #rafe Cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe Cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron x fem!reader #Dolly writes

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mulloey · 7 months ago

Text

innocents • yunho

it’s easy to forget you’re his prisoner

warnings: criminal!yunho, mentioned sex trafficking (but it’s in the context of him Not doing it), mentioned murder, reader is held against her will but nothing is done to her without consent, her shitty boyfriend pimped her out kind of and yunho’s not about that but he is Not a good dude in this, dom yunho, implied drugging (alcohol), implied physical punishment, other than the *implications* this is actually pretty tame. also san is yunho’s goon lol

this doesn’t represent yunho, ateez or my perception of them in any way. don’t like, don’t read:) please comment if you enjoyed!

—————

The first time you met Yunho, you were a payment. Your stupid, doofus boyfriend, thinking he was tough and smart enough to survive a life of crime, had gotten in too deep with the wrong people and found himself with a bounty on his head, pursued across the country until he was finally cornered in a dodgy part of Seoul. Dragged unceremoniously to Yunho’s office, he’d realised quickly who he was dealing with, and what was about to happen to him, and in a moment of desperation had offered you up instead. “Take my girlfriend,” he’d begged. “She’s at my house and she’s beautiful, you can have her. Just please don’t kill me.” And Yunho, disgusted that your boyfriend would offer you up like cattle but intrigued by the thought of you, had sent one of his men to pick you up.

You knew what your boyfriend had gotten involved with and you knew how spineless he was, so you weren’t surprised to see an armed man in your doorway, telling you to come with him if you wanted your boyfriend to live. You were more annoyed than anything else, but as much as you hated your boyfriend for selling you out like this, you didn’t want him to die, certainly not in the slow, painful way the man in your doorway had so graphically promised. So you followed, allowing yourself to be brought to a sprawling property on the other side of the city. When you were dragged into Yunho’s office, your coward of a boyfriend wouldn’t even meet your eye. But there was one person who couldn’t take his eyes off of you. The tall, dangerous looking man behind the desk.

He looked you up and down for a moment, ordering his man to turn you around so he could see the back of you, before nodding. “I accept your offer,” he told your boyfriend. “Leave her with me and don’t ever return to Korea, and I’ll wipe your debts and set you free. Understood?”

And without a moment's hesitation, your boyfriend agreed, thanking Yunho profusely for his generosity — for taking her instead of me. You could have attacked him if you weren’t surrounded by armed henchmen, but you were realising now that this pathetic little man wasn’t worth any more of your energy. So you let him scurry away with your back turned, eyes cast downwards to the floor.

The room was silent for a moment, tension in the air, until Yunho spoke. “If you’re wondering what I’m going to do to you, don’t worry,” he said. “I sell things, not people. Not women, at least. You’ll be safe here with me.”

You nodded, not really convinced before he ordered you closer to him. You shuffled forwards, as slow as you could before one of his men shoved you so hard you stumbled, landing on the solid wood of the desk.”

“San, you fucking idiot,” Yunho snapped, standing from his chair and rounding the desk to help you up. You looked you up and down and, satisfied you weren’t hurt, released his grip on you. “Your boyfriend’s lucky you’re such a beauty,” he said. “And so are you. Cus he’s not being fed to dogs right now, and I’m going to take much better care of you than he did.”

For some reason, maybe the sting and annoyance of the idiotic betrayal you’d just suffered, you believed him. Yunho would take care of you. He’d keep you safe. And you’d never be bounty again.

True to his word, Yunho was for the most part perfectly respectful. He didn’t touch or try anything with you without your permission, and he made certain none of his men did either, as made abundantly clear your second month under his care, when a low level fighter had cornered and felt you up, and Yunho, upon hearing about it, had summoned him to his office and, without a word, shot him between the eyes with his own gun.

The only time Yunho wasn’t so nice to you was the few attempts you’d made to escape. As much as he respected you as a person, he’d forgiven a lot of transgressions and missed out on an awful lot of money to have you, and he wasn’t going to let you go. And in the months (you think, time moves strangely in Yunho’s house) you’d been in his possession, he had by his own admission, developed feelings that gave him another reason to want to keep you with him.

After a few failed escape attempts and quite severe reprisals, he’d settled on another way to keep you pliant. With your previous boyfriend you’d gotten heavily into alcohol and as Yunho quickly realised, supplying you with it was a good way to keep you happy and obedient. And to keep you safe by his side, anything that worked was worth it.

You’re a few drinks deep when he comes into your room, taking a seat on your bed, eyes on you. You’re at your desk and facing him, fiddling absentmindedly with an empty glass.

“Come here.”

You feel dizzy, and not just because of the alcohol. You see the small knife in his hand, dwarfed by his massive palms. You know what those palms can do to you. You’ve tried everything to avoid finding out about the knife.

“Are you going to cut me?” You try to sound as afraid as possible, knowing it softens him — not because he feels bad for scaring you, but because he likes it. You’re such a good girl, he’d say, being so afraid of me. He thinks it’s sweet. It makes him happy. And you like when he’s happy.

His face is blank. “Why would I cut you?”

“The knife.”

His gaze flickers to it, then back to you. “Ah,” he says, smiling slightly. “This isn’t for you.”

“Did you hurt someone?” You ask softly.

“I’m going to,” he says. He puts the knife down on the bed, behind his back where you can’t see it. But now you know it’s there and you guess that was his intention. Your time with this man has taught you that nothing, nothing he does is an accident. “Come here.”

His tone is harder now, on the edge of anger. Since becoming his prisoner, as he hates when you call yourself, you’ve learned that Yunho does not like repeating himself — a lesson that has been painfully delivered to you more times than either of you would like. Not wanting another, you scurry over to him, stopping short of settling on his lap, because he hasn’t said you can touch him, and you know not to do it without his permission. Nothing without permission.

He smiles, recognising your obedience and pats his lap. “Sit.”

You settle yourself in your lap, heart still racing slightly, but the feeling of his warm hands on the small of your back always calms you. He strokes up and down your back, humming softly with his gaze fixed on you. “Have you been good today?” He asks.

You nod. “I have. Thank you for the drinks.”

He hums, running his thumb across your plush lips. He pushes it in slightly, letting you suck at the tip while his other fingers stroke your cheek. “I wanted to check on you,” he says quietly, “before I leave. Just to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am,” you say, smiling softly.

He narrows his eyes, studying your face for any signs of dishonesty, but you know better than to lie to him. You know that in less than a second, the soft, gentle touches on your back could turn hard, crushing and striking, and it informs every choice you make with him. He nods, apparently satisfied that you’re telling the truth, and presses a kiss to your lips. “Good girl,” he breathes.

You smile at the praise, out of relief as much as happiness. You’ve learned quickly that Yunho is very, very good at concealing his true feelings — a necessary skill for someone of his profession — so you never bank on him being satisfied with your behaviour until he confirms it himself. But today he is satisfied, and it fills you with relief. “Thank you,” you whisper.

Yunho smiles at you and pushes his thumb back into your mouth. Focused on the feeling, you don’t notice his other hand move from the small of your back to the top of your leg. The feeling of his hand on the sensitive bare skin of your thigh makes you jolt and he tuts, tightening his grip slightly. “Still,” he orders gently.

He lets his hand wander further up your leg, into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, dangerously close. Your breath hitches as his hand slowly approaches your most sensitive area. “Yunho,” you whisper, the desperation in your voice evident.

He smiles softly but shakes his head. “I don’t have time now, darling,” he says regretfully. “Just wanted to play with my baby a little before I go. Get her worked up and ready for when I’m back.”

The hand on your face moves to grip your thigh, holding you in place as the other pulls your tiny shorts to the side and presses a long finger into your hole. You gasp softly; it’s been a while since you’d started playing with Yunho like this, but you’ll never get used to his size, not just of his dick but of his entire body. Everything about him is large, strong, brimming with restrained power until he has a reason to unless it.

The finger reaches deep inside you, curling as he pushes another in. He starts to pump them slowly, quickly speeding up until you’re whining and squirming on his lap. A third soon joins and you almost choke. “Yunho,” you cry.

He hums, not acknowledging you further. You love when he plays with you like this, clinically and methodically pleasuring you but seeming indifferent to you or your reactions. He doesn’t care what sounds you make, how many times you come undone on his fingers. You’re his toy and he’ll play with you until he gets bored.

He presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing in circles to drive you close to the edge. You’re babbling incoherently now, crying and gasping as he works you to your orgasm.

“Yunho,” you sob as his fingers speed up. “Yunho, I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” he says. He doesn’t look up at you, gaze still fixed in your gushing pussy.

You cry as you let yourself go, juices coating his entire hand. He chuckles at the sight, pumping his fingers a few more times before pulling them out, but you know that’s more due to his time constraints than any desire to show you mercy. Other than your worst misbehaviours, the only time Yunho shows the merciless, cruel side of himself with you is during sex. He’s in charge, and he loves the way you cower and come undone beneath him.

He holds you in his lap for a few more minutes, stroking your gently and whispering praises as you come down from your high, before he gets up, a sad look on his face. “I so wish I could stay, baby,” he says mournfully. “You’re such a good girl for me.”

“Me too,” you sigh. “Please don’t get hurt.

He tilts his head, lips twitching with an amused smile. “I never do that,” he says. “And I’m not fighting anyone tonight. Just teaching them a lesson. Be ready for me when I’m back, yeah?”

You nod and he smiles, pressing another kiss to your lips before picking up his knife and walking out of your room. You hear the lock click behind him, a reminder that as much as you love each other, you’re still his prisoner. But the ghosts of his touches on your skin make it so much sweeter.

—————

#ateez smut #ateez hard hours #ateez x reader #kpop smut #yunho smut #jeong yunho smut #yunho x reader #dom yunho #ateez dark fic #mulloey writes

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impishjesters · 1 year ago

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I’m devouring the nonsexual intimacy with Jax dawg- oml we eatin good

How would Jax be with an s/o who enjoys leaning on him? I adore physical touch but sometimes if I can’t use my arms it feels like I’m trapped, so it’s nice to just glomp people lmao (s/o is ticklish too- Jax would have a field day with that one)

If you need a little more substance, maybe s/o like randomly serenading Jax in private! Like those old 80s jazz love songs (complete with slow dancing)

Thank you and have a wonderful day/night!

Leaning on one another

warning(s): none unless you count jazz note(s): I joke about it but I actually quite like jazz, maybe not all jazz but it's definitely not the worst type of music. I'm looking at you country music.... A/N: I included a bonus because I thought the idea of cornering this man in his room with jazz music was absolutely hilarious lol

Jax doesn’t have a physical battery per say, but there is definitely a limit to how much he can tolerate at a given time—whether it’s in public or private.

He doesn’t like sitting still for long periods of time and there’s a limit to how vulnerable he’s willing to be at any given time if at all.

So having a s/o that understands this and goes for physical touch like leaning on him or something that’s not inherently seen as romantic and mushy is a win in his book.

Don’t get me wrong, he loves you but it’s a lot and he’s not really used to it. He’s still trying to wrap his head around the fact you two are dating, that you like him.

He’s all for being leaned on or having you loosely hang off him in public, sometimes regardless of what side of him you’re leaning on, he might lean back.

Little shit might only catch himself though if you can’t hold him/he catches you off guard and/or lose your footing, he’ll make the attempt to stick an arm out and catch you—but whether you crash or not depends on your own reflexes. (he doesn’t make the rules, sorry babe)

If you wanna be held but not feel restricted, as long as he’s not doing anything he’ll let you stand in front of him, lean back, and drape his arms over you—totally not to just lean on you and be an absolute menace.

In fact, that’s probably how he found out you were ticklish—and that knowledge is far too much power in his hands.

Sure he can do it whenever he wants, but he tends to save it for other unsuspecting situations—like if the two of you get into a little spat and you’re not speaking to him—two can play that game.

He won’t completely restrict your arms but he’ll throw his arms around you and tickle you, it doesn’t always work to ease whatever the spat was about.

That said Jax doesn’t do it when the situation is serious and calls for an actual discussion, he knows at least that much when it comes to reading the room. (That and you’ve probably gotten onto him about it at least once before…)

He also may or may not have tickled you to get you up, you don’t need to sleep but you can still lie down and whatnot. And if you aren’t budging? Tickle time baby.

Bonus

Jax isn’t a dancer by any means, so when he opens the door to his room to find you standing there with music that’s—very much not the repetitive cartoony music that usually plays in this hellscape—he’s a little surprised.

The first question out of his mouth is:

“Is that fucking jazz?”

“No, just normal jazz.”

That response gets a good hearty chuckle out of him.

When you try pulling him in for a dance he’s a little nervous though it comes off as looking irritated, he’s uh, never danced to jazz of all things let alone with someone else.

You’re gonna have to take the reigns on this one, regardless of whether you can dance or not, you started this.

Despite the fact it is jazz playing, he enjoys the situation as a whole, your weight leaning on him the subtle holding one another. And the fact it’s in private? He can comfortably(ish) let himself feel a little vulnerable around you with no risk of having an audience.

Regardless of the fact it’s jazz, if you happen to sing along he considers himself impressed and will jokingly (read: obnoxiously) comment how he feels utterly serenaded, completely wooed, absolutely swooning—it goes on until you stop him, please stop him he’ll just keep going.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus x reader #tadc jax #the amazing digital circus #jax x reader #jax

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3amfanfiction · 7 months ago

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MDNI tw: baby trapping and manipulation. GazxReader fluffy-dark one-shot.

Kyle is ready for a baby, so when he sees his chance he just can’t resist. And he knows how he’s going to make you an enthusiastic, albeit unknowing, participant.

He was ready.

It’d been a long time coming; you and he had had your ups and downs and always came out stronger on the other side, together. Always together. It was you and him until the end.

You were such a perfect partner for him, practically handmade to fill in all his rough edges and he never let you forget how much he adored you. He bragged about you any time you came up in conversation and wasn’t shy about crowing your achievements from the rooftop.

Your friends were over the moon at your relationship. Every time you met up for brunch or movie nights you would field at least 3 comments about where they could find their own head-over-heels partner.

You had been sick for a few weeks before you finally went to the doctor.

“Tuberculosis.” you rasp to Kyle on the other end of the phone. “They prescribed me some heavy duty antibiotics called rifampin that are the size of horse pills!” you hold the prescription bottle up towards the light and shake the tablets around in disbelief.

Kyle just laughs into your ear, well aware of how much you disliked needing to take large pills. It had been brought up every time one of you got sick throughout your relationship. You insisted that they got stuck in your throat and stayed there for hours before finally dissolving, no matter what Kyle tried to say. He used it as an excuse to brew your favorite tea and pamper you more than usual whenever you had to take them, so he never tried to argue too hard.

“I miss you . . . wish you were here,” you croak, making your way to the couch to relax and try to catch your breath. Your lungs felt physically tired as you tried to breathe. It was a unsettling feeling. Panting lightly, you pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and cocooned yourself, relaxing back into the cushions.

“I know sweetheart. I wish I was there too. I would make you that soup you like and rub your feet while we watched a movie. You wouldn’t have to get up for anything.” The line crackles and breaks for a few moments before clearing up again. “Just a little bit longer, love, and I’ll be able to come home. It’ll be before you know it.”

“I miss you Kyle.”

“I miss you, sweetheart.”

. . .

When the call ends Gaz immediately looks up the medication you said you were prescribed. Rifampin. He’s never had tuberculosis and he wants to verify that this is the standard treatment and if there are any side effects to watch out for. While he isn’t in the country right now he’d figure something out if you needed him back quickly.

Fingers which had been swiping steadily, reading warnings and side effects with the same attention to detail as to mission reports providing intel before an operation, slowed and then stopped as he continued to read. After a moment his screen goes dark and your future shifts and locks into place on the other side of the world.

. . .

It was edging into evening just over a week later when the front door swings open and in steps Kyle. You immediately throw yourself into his arms and begin fussing, hugging him and checking for any new injuries at the same time. He just laughs and squeezes you back tightly. “I’m fine love, just happy to be able to hold you again.”

After sorting out the immediate concerns you tumble into bed, cuddling face to face and sharing a pillow, sharing breath. You’re not sure who kissed who first but you’re both tied for ardor. Your tongues tangled together as hands slide under clothes and down pants. Before things got too involved you pulled back to look at him. “You’re going to have to pull out. This medicine can affect my birth control so you can’t come inside me okay?”

He nodded eagerly as he began to pull your shirt up your torso, fingertips dragging along skin in their own version of a kiss. “Pull out, got it.” He said distractedly, glancing down at the skin and softness he was uncovering. Before you knew it you were both naked and he moved his way down your body, taking his time to slowly work you up. Spending time nibbling along your coller bones, sucking a bruise into the hollow of your throat, tonguing around your neck to the other side to continue.

What follows is hours of pleasure and torture in equal measure. Kyle has never been a stingy lover but tonight it’s like he has something to prove. He brings you to your peak again and again and again . . . and then he holds you there.

While the two of you had dabbled in edging before this, it had never been to this extreme. Tonight had been hours of cruel pleasure, the sheets under you were damp with sweat and you were sobbing with your hands buried in his hair.

“Pl-please,” you hiccup on a sob “I need to come. Please let me-let me come.” you beg him, trying to maintain eye contact through your tears. He currently had three fingers buried deep in your cunt and his lips suctioned to your clit.

His lips pop off with a slurp and you yelp.“Do you need it, baby?” He grins with a feverish gleam in his eyes. “You ready to come?” You nod eagerly, blinking and causing the tears to spill over your lash line.

“Please, please I’ve been good. I’ve been so good, please let me come.”

“God you beg so pretty baby. Okay, but I want to come together.” He climbs to the head of the bed and lays on his back. He grabs you by the hips and helps you climb on top, slotting himself back at you entrance. “Come on, up on top love, thats it.” he babbles as you sink to the base and gasp at the feeling of being stuffed full. “Yes, Just like that, just like that.” is wrung from his throat as you squeeze him tightly.

You begin to pump your hips, pulling away from him before bringing yourself back down but you quickly lose steam. It had been hours at this point and you were on your last legs.

“I know.” Kyle coos condescendingly, brushing the back of his knuckles over your cheek, wiping away tears, sweat and drool. “I know sweet thing, you’re so tired. It’s gonna be okay. Look, I’ll help you.”

He reaches both hands down to your hips, digging his fingers into soft skin and plush rolls. His fingertips causing divots where they press into the fat of your hips. He pulls you into a grinding motion, “Doesn’t that feel good baby? Me holding your hips just right, helping you grind back and forth?”

You nod dumbly, brain fried and only able to think of how good he feels inside you. He drops one of his thumbs down to find your clit, giving it steady, smooth circles to help you finish.

“Yeah? Right there? I can tell it’s good just by your face. I love that fucking face that you’re making.” His mouth begins to run, words dropping out with no prior planning. “If I could tattoo it behind my eyes and carry it around with me for the rest of my life I would die a happy man. You make me so damn happy baby.” He grunts as he begins to move your hips faster, grinding you down firmly against him. “I want you forever, do you hear me? Forever. It’s you and me okay? Yeah, you’re getting close? I am too, love. Mmmm fuck. Just like that, keep rocking your hips baby and you’re gonna make me come. God you’re taking me so well. Tucked up, deep inside you.” His jaw clenches and he pulls you as tightly against him as he can.

“Fuck. I’m gonna come love. You’re gonna make me come.” His words stutter to a close as you continue to grind, chasing the final edge. You could feel it tingling up your legs, across the backs of your thighs.

“Im so close,” you pant, head tilted back, eyes closed, unable to think of anything accept the feel of his cock bumping into your soft walls, creating sparks of pleasure. “Don’t stop baby. I’m so close. I can’t stop. Please”

A groan punches out of Kyle and his grip turn tight enough to leave fingerprint bruises to find in the morning. “If you don’t want me filling you up, you gotta get off baby. I know you’re close but you’re gonna make me come. You told me to pull out just to, just to be safe. I can’t-i cant hold it baby. You’ve gotta get - get off or it’ll all be inside.”

He starts to stutter and lose rhythm still pulling you into him, rubbing your clit with his thumb.

You don’t hear him. A roar is building in your ears, a white noise type of hum that is blocking out everything else. You can feel your release digging its claws into you down to your bones as it gets ready to wrench you from your body.

Your knees begin to shake from their place beside Kyle’s hips as you finally get what you’ve been working towards for the past however many hours. Your vision whites out and your mind blanks.

You clench around Kyle’s cock. warm gummy walls pulsing around him, drawing him inside. You’re grinding down on him as hard as possible, his tip pressed against the back of your channel.

His eyes hold an unusual gleam right before he closes his eyes and tilts his head back, groaning his release as he pumps everything inside of you.

Later when you’re spooned together, his arms wrapped around your waist and legs tangled together, you don’t notice him cupping his hand around your lower stomach. He falls asleep with a smile on his face as he imagines his future together, with all three of you.

Next || Story Repository

#nobody look at me #jk I actually love this #we need more gaz fics in the world #this handsome man can make all the babies he’d like 🥵#you just know they’d be cute #fanfic #cod #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #simon riley x reader

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asumofwords · 1 year ago

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Til Death Do Us Part - Teaser…

Dark!Modern!Aemond x Reader, Divorce AU -

READ IT HERE

Summary: You and Aemond had been married for years, but he was not the man you thought he was. Discovering his affair with his secretary Alys Rivers, you had decided that enough was enough. You packed up your things in secret and left, leaving divorce papers on the table, and booked a one way ticket out of the country.

What will happen when Aemond goes to the ends of the earth to find you and make you his again?

Warnings: This fic will be 18+. Readers discretion is advised. She/her pronouns, infidelity, divorce, stalking, abuse, toxic relationships, manipulation, gaslighting, marriage breakdown, yandere, obsessive behaviour, possessive behaviour, NONCON, rough sex, choking, hitting, slapping, physical violence, forced orgasm, daddy kink, dacryphilia, no happy ending (come on, its a dark fic lmao, look at these warnings).

Pairings: Modern!Dark!Aemond x reader

Word count: Around 10k so far...

Notes: I can't wait to post this story hehehe, I hope this lil teaser gets you ready for it. I will be posting this within the next week after SFA is finished <3

“Where are you?” He had asked, voice deep and quiet, small growl on the end; a tell tale sign that he was furious.

The airport was loud around you, people moving to their next gates, stopping to move to the small cafes to eat, others continuing onwards towards the baggage claim to collect their luggage.

“It's none of your business.” You had responded, tone clipped. Irritation and anger surging through you at his audacity to even be mad.

“I think it’s plenty my business. You’re my wife.”

“Not anymore. Have your solicitor talk to mine. Sign the papers, Aemond.”

You heard him breathe heavily into the speaker, “If you think for one fucking second that I’m going to-“

You pressed the red button on your phone and hung up on him, shoving your phone into your back pocket as you moved lazily through the queue to get through customs.

By the time you had gotten out the other end, you checked your phone again.

There was only one text on the screen that had sent panic blaring through your mind.

‘See you soon.'

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meryldian · 2 years ago

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omg love your writing its so GOOD

do you think you could do some more headcanons about growing up with devilsh

np if you cant have a good day or night ❤

★ Growing up with Devilish & Being Tokio Hotel’s 5th member ★ pt.2

AN: I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE !!

I decided to merge the requests because they overlap with one another and simply work. I hope this satisfies you !! I’m writing this as a part 2 to my first « Growing up with Devilish/Tokio Hotel » post since it just works!

Warning! Underage drinking and Smoking,sexual themes touched non explicitly, that’s about it. Friendly reminder it’s Tokio Hotel we’re talking about

≛ This is set in 2003 til 2005 right before the release of ddm as it deserves it’s own post.

~ Enjoy your read ~ (not proof read I’m sorry I had to get smth out of the drafts)

Bill was so excited to land that Starsearch audition, he came running to your house once he got the confirmation.

It’s 8pm on a school day and there’s a frantic Bill knocking at your door.

Or window, if it happens to be on the first floor.

I love the idea of your room being on the first floor, that way the boys can sneak in for silly night-ins discussing about the future of your band or watching some disney movies on your VHS player.

Or sometimes you’d sneak in beer, weed, all that good stuff that 12/13 year olds should not be doing but you did it anyway.

Your bedroom was a hideout and safe place, especially for Bill who found so much comfort in you.

The days following to Bill’s audition were spent practising his singing and putting up a killer outfit that would shock everyone.

Not many people had faith in him, but I’m sure you were certain he’d make it.

So when a letter got home after a few weeks saying that he was amongst the best 16 in the country, you sticked out your tongue and middle finger up to the other 3 boys. “I told you so”

When it came the time to interview the band for Bill’s section of the show, you guys knew you’d have to be your best.

Bill helped out picking your outfits for sure. You needed to look cool for the camera. Maybe this would be a breakthrough moment?

You even got to do Georg’s hair, much to his annoyance.

It felt glorious, there was a television team in Loitsche and it was just for you guys. You were the kings of the town for a few hours.

Charlotte, the twins’s mom allows you to come with her to the show. You were so excited to see Bill onstage! (The fandom knew Mami Kaulitz as Simone but she legally deleted that name and only kept Charlotte) (from now on I’ll only refer to her as Mami Kaulitz though)

Once Bill came on stage you knew he was meant to be there, and you dreamed for your band to be able to shine like this by his side.

You were clapping and singing along so happily, the crowd loved him.

The same can’t be said about one particular judge.

When Bill lost he came running into your arms. Poor boy was destroyed. You only had a couple minutes to gather his things and leave so while his grandma comforted him you helped out Mami Kaulitz at getting everything together.

Standing awkwardly by a crying Bill, his grandma and a bunch of strangers while waiting for his mom to finish talking to the host is definitely not your best memory.

Needless to say the ride back home was silent.

Everyone was so proud of Bill nonetheless.

In the following weeks you guys mostly practiced your melodies with the band and tried out new riffs. Bill was quite depressed and refused to get out of his house.

Not even a new outfit, new song or a cool Barbie doll could convince him to get out.

You would physically have to get in and drag him out of bed by his ankles.

Once you yanked him too hard and he fell right on his butt, knocking his head while at it. Tom was wheezing in the back while you tried to help Bill up, avoiding to burst at his misery.

Bill has always been arrogant, so the loss on Starsearch was a big bruise to his ego. You would have to help him rebuild his self-esteem.

Dressing him up prettily and doing his makeup.

Bill would imitate your makeup techniques, he finds you fascinating.

This is how his iconic black eyeshadow look was born.

Overtime it all got better and you guys went back to the routine.

In a way, you’re the glue that sticks everyone together in the band. For sure you’d be a pillar the boys rely on.

Whenever things don’t seem to go the right way you tend to climb on the rooftop and just talk the night away with Georg. You two can have the longest and brightest (sometimes not so) conversations man has known.

Back to the “storyline” Starsearch was not useless in the slightest. Bill’s voice, the band’s rogue look in the interview and the angelic beauty of one of it’s members caught a talent scout’s attention.

Sometime between 2002 and 3 you guys had recorded your Devilish demo, that along with Bill’s appearance in the show had gained you some newfound popularity in town.

Things were still hard but, at least they knew those five losers had talent.

It was a hard and exhausting process til you guys finally signed with Universal. But! Before you could record an album, you all needed some proper training. So during the summer holidays you were accommodated into an apartment with everything you may need.

Now imagine an apartment with 5 young teens living by themselves.

Gustav was in charge of the cooking because if anyone else touched the kitchen you would burn the place down.

Tom has managed to burn water. Do not trust him.

We all know Gustav is a total chef now, but back then let’s be honest.. he could make instant ramen noodles and sandwiches. So most of the time you guys settled on ordering junk.

You guys had sleeping arrangements but it never stopped you from all ending in one room playing video games til the late hours of the night or drinking til you passed out.

Nowadays you guys sometimes cringe at everything you were doing at such a young age.

Parties were strictly forbidden in the apartment so you would all sneak to the nearest park to raise hell. There were no parents to run after you and barely any surveillance around. You guys were free.

You once got so wasted that on the way back home Georg crashed somebody’s window. You still wonder how you never got caught.

There were nights that the place would get so cold that you all ended up as a pile when it came time to sleep.

You didn’t stay like that all night though. You’d wake up coddled against Tom’s leg on the floor as he took up the entire couch. Georg was sprawled on the bed, Gustav rested on an armchair somewhere and Bill made himself a blanket cocoon.

Bill and you still have a very special friendship, so some nights you would both get into the blanket cocoon in the living room and watch some vhs tapes of Nena, Queen and Bowie’s concerts.

Oh and Titanic, for sure. Bill loves the film.

He confessed to you that he was crushing on both Rose and Jack (Bill actually said this)

If you happen to also be in the lgbtq community, you’re in for a queer ride when watching films with Bill.

ESPECIALLY, Labyrinth.

You washed Georg’s hair in the sink once. You never talk about it.

The five of you are oddly comfortable around one another so there was no shame in that.

Nor in walking around barely dressed, making the grossest jokes and acts and being complete degenerates.

The fact Bill mentioned in his book that they’d collectively jack off still haunts me to this day.

You just let them be.

Or join if you’re drunk enough, you be you bestie.

You’re not excluded from the after hour porn binge watching though, that’s like watching the news for you bunch of hormonal brats.

Anything totally inappropriate for your age aside, the five of you have such a beautiful bond. It’s amazing to watch you go.

Of course the twins are a step ahead, but it doesn’t change the fact that as a band and as friends you’re so connected to one another.

You can have more than one soulmate, and the five of you are linked together for sure.

Ok i’m being cheesy.

I’m sorry but Tom was the type to ask you to make out to “practice”

He likes to snatch your bras (if you wear them) and mock you while holding it against his chest.

“Georg next time you take a big shit open the windows and spray there’s a lady living in here” “Look I’m y/n and i’m the best musician in this band” “Pull up your pants you looser”

In return, you have hit him with a bra. How is you weaponize it? I have no idea but you certainly did.

Gustav and you were always the ones to do groceries because if you let the other ones do it, they would come back with anything BUT groceries.

A new turtle for georg, king sized box of condoms, cigarettes, a kiss the cook apron, supposedly haunted doll they found in the trash and a pack of hot wheels toys.

Gustav might be the dad yet it doesn’t take his chaos away from him. He chased you guys around the apartment with a water gun screaming like a madman.

He drums on bowls while cooking it’s cute.

You genuinely had the time of your lives.

But you can’t forget that you were located there for a reason.

Writing music.

Turning this into a series! I’m honestly way too into this idea not to cover the band’s evolution in it’s entirety. The inclusion of this fifth member is genuinely very fun to write and brainstorm about! I’ll mostly write them as the rhythm guitarist as it’s logically the easiest position to sneak into the band. As well as I must say that I am definitely more comfortable writing afab readers but no worries I can and certainly will do male reader <3

See you ~

- Meryl <3

#tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #tokio hotel imagine #tokio hotel x reader #bill kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x reader #georg listing x reader #gustav schafer x reader #gustav schaefer #x reader #alien #tokita #tokio hotel imagines #tokio hotel alien

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itsawritblr · 1 year ago

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Jenny Watson: "We can do it, so let's do it." Jenny outlines her plan for a female-only, lesbian space.

For my lesbian, bisexual women, and radfem Followers. Via Graham Linehan's Substack.

For many decades, London was considered the global capital for lesbian nightlife. But you’d never know it if you visited the UK today. It’s not for a lack of British lesbian culture: I’m a lesbian, I’m involved in our country’s lesbian social scene, and I can assure you, it’s alive and well. What we lack at the moment are our own dedicated spaces. I think the UK needs once more to have lesbian-run, female-only community spaces.

I’ve got an idea about how to make one such space a reality. And I believe I'm in a position to make it happen.

Over the past seven years, I've had the privilege of organising a range of lesbian social events in London. Throughout this time, I've made many connections in our community, gained an increasing understanding of our needs, and created social spaces that I hope go some way to meeting them.

And in those seven years working to coordinate part of the the UK’s lesbian social scene, I’ve come to see how badly we need a dedicated, strictly female-only event space — now more than ever.

Men have been encroaching on the lesbian community, and the problem is only getting worse. There’s been a sense of inevitability, that this is just something we have to learn to live with.

But I’ve had it.

In June, I skipped London’s official Pride festivities and instead visited an alternative, independent event at the Hampstead Ponds. It was a female-only picnic. Hundreds of women of all ages were gathered, from their teens to their eighties. And the sublime joy that I felt that day led me to a eureka moment:

We need this. We deserve this. This is our right. As lesbians and bisexual women, we have a right to social spaces that are entirely our own.

So, earlier this year, I decided to implement a women-only policy at my events. Although this sparked controversy, we ultimately received recognition from the UK’s largest pub operator that it is legitimate to hold women-only lesbian events - a real victory!

And then it suddenly dawned on me: we need more and not only do we need this, I can do this. I feel I have a good sense of the UK market for lesbian social events. So I crunched some numbers and developed a business proposal. I gauged interest and studied feasibility. And I’m excited to tell you: I believe this can work.

My plan involves establishing a private members’ club and securing a prime physical space in London. By day, this space will operate as a versatile hybrid workspace, becoming a venue hosting various social events in the evenings and weekends. Alongside these, we'll provide online events, and collaborate with service providers for health and wellness advice, fitness guidance, group trips, and more. Revenue will come from the events, partnerships, as well as from membership dues.

To the lesbian and bisexual women reading this: you’re welcome to get in touch with me if you’d like to learn more. There's an opportunity to invest if you’re interested, too. I’ve got a pitch deck I would be happy to show you and a fully fleshed-out, 50-page business plan. And I’m happy to report that there are already investors who have given the thumbs up.

Following my announcement and inspired by the community's heartwarming response, I decided to introduce an early-bird membership programme. This includes a personalised QR-coded membership card for exclusive updates and access to a members’ discussion space. Joining early also signifies your part in accelerating our community's launch.

Which brings me to another issue, and it’s a big part of the reason I’m writing this now: online critics. There’s a small but vocal group of people online who’ve been saying some pretty nasty and completely unfounded things about me. This group of people have taken to personal insults, and accusations that I’m a fraudster and a grifter.

I’m not entirely surprised to encounter pushback, but at the same time, the level of vitriol has been eye-opening.

But I try to put it in a bigger context: Lesbians have faced so much abuse, and for so long we’ve had to settle for having social spaces conditionally, on terms set by men. There’s a climate of distrust and fear looming over the lesbian community as a result. So much so that today the idea of even having one single space fully dedicated to lesbian and bisexual women seems so radical, some people’s initial reaction is that there’s got to be a catch.

I completely understand that a good dose of scrutiny, of tempering optimism with some degree of caution, is reasonable. It’s healthy. And it’s entirely welcome.

But personal insults and unfounded accusations are not. I know that emotions are running high, and we as a community are feeling beleaguered right now. But that’s no excuse to target my Irishness in personal attacks, for example. Or to target my business supporters with lies about me.

I'm not here to push or persuade anyone who doesn't feel the spark for this project. However, for those who do, our project investors' safety and security are crucial — capital funds are securely placed in escrow and I've teamed up with a business consultant who's right here supporting us until opening day. We’ve put together a solid business plan.

If anything, the tenor of some of the criticism I’ve faced only hardens my resolve: it just highlights how badly women need a space to unite us, to heal us in this difficult time.

It’s been upsetting to endure the smear campaign that a small online group has thrown at me… but my mind keeps going back to that Edenic afternoon at the Hampstead Ponds, where hundreds of women were gathered in serenity and harmony.

This will heal us. This will unite us. And it will make us all stronger. Lesbian strength comes through unity.

There are various ways you can help, but the most crucial one is spreading the word - our message is the most important part of this project.

Other than that, as I mentioned earlier, if you are a lesbian/bi woman, there is the option to join as an early-bird member (however, this is not compulsory; you can wait until our opening). Additionally, there's the opportunity for investment or donation. I've prepared a comprehensive 50-page business plan and pitch deck available for those who are interested.

For a deeper understanding of the project, feel free to visit our website or you can email me at [email protected]

Any form of support you can offer is immensely appreciated as we work towards making this a reality.

We can do this. So let’s do it!

#lesbians #women's spaces #lesbian spaces #Jenny Watson #Graham Linehan #Substack #bisexual women #UK #London

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dkisms · 1 year ago

Text

Warrior

Wonwoo x afab!reader /// enemies to lovers /// 5k words /// smut

You’ve hated Wonwoo’s guts for most of your esports career. He’s always targeted you, and you’ve had enough.

If one person on planet Earth hates Jeon Wonwoo, it’s you. In fact, that’s how you feel right now, with the stupid little grin on his stupid face looking at you from across the stage, brow arched at you. He’s teasing you for sure, and the bright red ‘LOSE’ on the stage above you does absolutely nothing to change that.

You honestly had no idea when Wonwoo started to act like this. As a woman on an esports team for League, you’ve always been careful of every move you’ve made. Two years ago, you joined ASTAR, much to the disappointment of many in the world. In fact, Wonwoo had been kind to you previously, going on stream many times to express how women belonged in the sport, and how he was excited to game with you.

At least, that was what you thought.

Now, every single time you play, either practice or in comp, your screen stains black and white, now matter what you do. Every move? Wonwoo’s there. Switch to top? So is he. At this point, even your team starts to feel bad for you. In any regular match against any other team, no one can beat your Seraphine (or fiddlesticks, if feeling frisky).

Your team captain gets up before you, patting your head. As much as it seems comforting, the steam coming from your ears and the blood boiling in your veins has yet to cease. You exhale loudly, getting up to follow your team. The next ten minutes go by in a blur, with the manager asking the team about the matches while heading to the bus, barely a blink coming from your face.

Even when you got to your base, all you could do was trudge to your dorm, and get in bed, wallowing in silence. The notification you got on your phone made you feel even worse, seeing your teammates go to stream and talk about the matches. To them, it wasn’t a bad loss, with Wonwoo’s team, JACKL, being number one in the country, and the easy contender to worlds, but it didn’t make the loss any easier.

Your phone dinged with a text from your friend. ‘He’s talking about you.’ Was all it read, and it took everything in your soul to not throw the phone across the room, opting to open Wonwoo’s stream instead.

“We don’t bash other teams.” Was the only thing you heard as the stream loaded out of the advertisement, Wonwoo spinning back and forth on his chair as he read his comments.

“Are they as good as my team? No. JACKL is number one for a reason right now. However, they’re one of the best teams I’ve played against in years. Their mid showed mine how you can’t screw around in a match and expect them to not crush you into the dirt. My support had to pretty much solo heal them. Not great, but he’s gonna work on it.”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, brushing his newly silver hair out of his face. He chuckled at a few comments that came in, eyeing one from an international fan.

“Yes, I did go after their support. They rely on her too much on bot lane, and can’t protect her. If they leave her open, it’s my job to go after-”

You killed the stream immediately after, the familiar anger coming back out. ‘Fuck Jeon Wonwoo, and fuck his team,’ you thought, throwing your phone onto the bed, and heading over to your computer, turning it on. As much as bed therapy helps, the fury in your bones could only be solved by crushing as many people as physically possible in the game, and enjoying the cheez-its you had left. Unfortunately for you, the stupid game hates you, and you nearly just decided to evaporate from the planet entirely seeing your team.

JAKCL_EveryWonwoo was on your team.

Jeon Wonwoo was on your fucking team!

It seems he noticed as well, as the chat started to roll through his messages at an alarming rate.

‘Boba???? ASTAR_BobA???’

‘Good to see you again, BobA!’

‘Are you my support??? This is crazy’

‘Yes, I’m your support. Now hurry and pick’ You wrote back, cooling down. The game loaded in, and you picked the route farthest away from Wonwoo. If you had to play with him, you refused to be near him only if necessary, and maybe let him die a couple times. Maybe.

As much as you hated Wonwoo, he was fucking good. Way too good at this damn game, with the amount of times he saved your ass. The bot lane was pretty much useless, leading you to have to take over, and he pretty much took over the south side of the jungle with you, killing as many as he could. The pretty 15/2/18 was growing by the second on your leaderboard, and his 28/6/13 made the two of you look like you were dancing with each other on the field as you finished the match, a ghost of a grin on your face. It was quickly removed, however, when you got a message outside of the match.

JACKL_EveryWonwoo has sent you an invitation.

Against every bone in your body screaming at you not to accept, you had to. What better way to learn how he plays than to play with him? Right? You even checked, he’s not streaming. You let out a sigh, making sure your headset mic was working, and joined the group.

“I wasn’t too sure you’d accept.” Wonwoo teased, the grin in his voice easily apparent.

“Had to get my mic.” You said, watching him change to a casual lobby.

“Mmm,” He said, hitting the queue. “You did good today.”

“Sure,” You said, clear in your voice that you didn’t want to talk about it. “So, why invite me?”

“I’m trying to show you that your team is taking advantage of you.” Wonwoo said, picking his character with you, and choosing to go bot lane.

“Listen, I don’t need you bashing my team, okay? We did what we could.” You snapped.

“I’m not bashing them. Yet. But I promise, you’re worth more than you think.” He said, shutting up as the game started.

While Wonwoo wasn’t… great at bot lane, he definitely kept up. In fact, he was shockingly right about your team. He was taking bullets and arrows with every match you played, and for hours, had you questioning your team’s plays. At four A.M., when he ended the matches, he sat with you in silence as you looked over match replays.

“Listen, don’t take it to heart. Just understand you might have to rework some stuff. I know your coach is retiring, so next year, you can work with the new one to find out about plays, okay?” He said.

“Yeah,” you said, voice dry. “I’m hopping off. Have a good night.”

“Night.”

——///——

You groaned at the buzzing of your phone, reaching over to grab it, and rubbing your eyes. The yell you let out seeing the 250+ notifications decorating your screen could have woken up anyone sleeping. JACKL_EveryWonwoo follows you, tagged you in a video, tagged you in a picture… the notifications kept going late into the morning, clearly after you had fallen asleep. The first was a picture of your characters emoting, one you had sent to him as a joke. Every video after that was VOD’s of every match you had, and the comments were endless.

‘She’s actually so good. Does her team just suck?’

‘He works well with her. If I was JACKL, I’d be calculating offers.’

‘I knew he was going after her for a reason. Man’s knew she held the team together’

As much as you could keep reading the comments to inflate your ego, you were NOT excited for the upcoming PR nightmare, especially with the lineups for the upcoming tournament to be announced this week. Knowing the industry, your team would be out in seconds with them Matching ASTAR and JACKL.

Your phone ringing broke you from your spiraling anxiety, with your friend’s picture on screen. You pressed the accept button, only for a piercing scream to nearly blow your ear drums.

“What. The. Fuck?!” Avia shrieked. “Why are you all over his Twitter?! I thought you hated him!”

“I do,” You said, exasperated. “He wanted to show me my team sucked at protecting me when I was vital to the lineup. He did.”

“I know, ASTAR is getting lamblasted on every media site, it’s hilarious. Your teammates are… trying to defend themselves,” She said, as you heard a knock on the door.

You ended the call, and opened your door to see your manager, who requested a statement about the play from the previous game. After a quick tweet, most of the internet was cooling off.

“So, we have a practice match,” Your manager said, pulling out a clipboard, as he walked with you downstairs to the rest of the group, already playing. “JACKL.”

You turned, startled, pausing before you sat down. “Is that really okay? After the Twitter BS?”

“We have no choice. We planned this weeks ago,” the manager said, and you just sat quietly, while they set up the custom matches.

At the start of the match, you knew it was going to be horrible. If your team was a little turned around during the first tournament, then this was like a tornado going off. In fact, it pissed you off more when Wonwoo immediately killed you. Actually, you barely remember a time you were alive, if any. At the end of the match, you were so pissed off, you shut yourself into your own room, pissed.

—-///—-

The moment the tournament matchups were announced a few days later, the stress in your body melted. Thankfully, JACKL were in the other side of the bracket, arguably harder than yours. Thankfully, this seemed to have also motivated your team, and within a few practice matches, they were back in order.

“Wake up!” The manager called, hopping onto the bus. “First match of the playoffs. I didn’t want to talk about this here, but I believe this is the best place for it. Listen… the company is gonna have to make changes if we don’t win. They don’t know if they want to keep everyone, or if they want to dissolve. Either way, you’ll be contacted shortly about your contract.” He said, clearing his throat.

“Seriously?!” Her mid laner said. “Dude- I can’t fucking believe this shit.”

The rest of the drive was relative silence from the group. Many wondered where they’d go, and you were no exception. The skin around your nails was raw by the the time you got to your locker room, filled with an ice cold fear of your future. The manager tried to comfort everyone as much as he could, up until your team took the stage.

The ice hardened into a lump in your stomach, one made even worse as you looked around at the crowd. Signs were decorating the audience, and you nearly choked on your own spit, seeing JACKL front row.

“Why the fuck are they here?” The top lane called over the headsets, your team agreeing.

“No fucking clue,” You said. “Watching us, I guess? To be fair, the news of a team revamp got put out. Maybe seeing if they can steal anyone.”

The midlaner just nodded in response, as the signal for the match to start was activated, and bans were chosen quickly.

“Going Senna,” you called, setting up a protect strategy.

The game was one of the longest you’ve had, knowing how intense team emotions were. After the first victory round, you ran up and down the hall stairs to gain some energy, and the second match was a breeze. Against your wishes, however, after your matches, you were stuck front row watching JACKL.

“They’re fucking good,” Your manager said, eyeing the plays. It was annoying, and to be honest, seemed a little showy.

At the end of the first match, the smirk Wonwoo gave you was enough to make you glare, knowing exactly what he was playing at. He was showing off at this point, and trying to get your attention. With the amount of times he had looked over in your direction, you were starting to get pissed off, and the manager was starting to notice.

“You really made him mad, hm? Play a practice match or something?”

“No. He’s fucking irritating, though.” You said, and your coach perked up.

“It reminds me of my neighbor’s kid. Idiot thought being an ass was his way of flirting. Y’know, messing with your crush…?” He trailed off, seeing your face. “Nevermind.”

“Don’t even,” You said, getting up. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

As you wandered into the player halls, after refusing to use the public restroom seeing the lines, you were sharply stopped by Jeon Wonwoo running into you.

“Ah, the golden girl! I wanted to see you today.” He said, a grin lighting up his face.

“Can I help you?” You asked, with pursed lips.

“Yeah. You see my match? It was pretty fucking good.” He said, teasing. “Y’know, if you joined my team, you’d get the same treatment. Princess and all.”

Your eyes narrowed as you scoffed. “As if, Jeon Wonwoo. Let me be straight with you. I don’t like you. You bash my time, try to steal me from my group, and post matches without my permission, which, mind you, had audio. If I said anything iffy, it would be a PR nightmare. Not only that, but it already was! My team had to make a statement twice. Now, I don’t know why the hell you keep messing with me, but I’ve had enough, seriously. I’m unable to do my job in any sense of the word. I know my teammates aren’t doing great, they’re at retirement age and are injured half the time, but I don’t want to hear about it. Enough.” You snapped, finally feeling some weight off your chest. All Wonwoo could do was stand silently, swallowing roughly at the words, as you sped walked off in another direction, away from him.

—-////—-

A week later, you finished your second match. To be honest, your conversation with Wonwoo had lit a fire, making you push to prove your team wasn’t useless, in anyone’s eyes. You dropped your headset onto the table, quickly exiting the stage, not wanting to talk to anyone, until you were stopped by the manager, and another woman.

“Hi. I’m Sasha, I work for ASTAR’s main offices. I wanted to talk to you about your work on the team.” She said, and the both of you quickly headed into a small meeting room.

“Now, I understand you’ve played with us for a year, at most. Unfortunately, you’ve seen us quite vulnerable this year,” She said, laughing. “I’ll be honest with you. Your bottom laner and jungler are retiring, and I’m only resigning you and the mid laner, if you’re willing. I already have next year’s team set, and contracts sent out for future prospects. I’m willing to offer you a salary increase, if you’ll have it.”

“I’d love to rejoin.” You said, and she quickly slid a contract, letting you read over it. “I’ve sent it to the company’s lawyers, so you can sign within the week. We won’t announce it until after the tournament ends.”

“Yes ma’am,” You said, smiling at the paper.

At least Jeon Wonwoo can’t fuck this up.

—-////—-

Two weeks later, you sat in the locker room, biting your nails, watching a random band play on the tv before the tournament final was to go. Your team had taken the cake on the left side of the bracket, but that left you with only one team left to go, and you weren’t sure if you even had a chance.

JACKL.

You took a deep breath, centering yourself. You were oddly calm going into it, knowing you still had a future with the team, but were still stressed. As you took a final sip of your drink, you headed to the stage, only to be met with Wonwoo’s piercing eyes, and a shit eating grin.

Well, fuck. There goes your screen time, was all you could think, scowling at him, and opting to set up. The keyboard glowed as you clicked away, checking the mouse, and remained silent as the announcers droned on about the game, and every playstyle, the crowd roaring at the game. You picked your character after the bans, quickly making it onto the field, and the bottom lane.

“We gotta be careful this round,” You said, moving back and forth. “They’re heavy on movement. If you see something, say something.”

“Got it,” Your midlaner said, as the game quickly began.

As the game stretched out, Wonwoo was noticeably gone. Before you could even note he must have listened to you, your screen turned gray, and you looked to see Wonwoo had killed you. Looking over to him across the stage, he didn’t return your stare, only smiling at the game, as you huffed.

The first match carried deep into a match against the dragons, but as much as you hoped you could keep up, Wonwoo stole nearly every dragon on the field, leading your team to play a losing game of catch up, until the match ended. 1-0 rang out on every screen as the crowd cheered for the other team, and you quickly headed off stage to recoup with your team.

The second match was a turnover, however, as your toplane deployed a new strategy of killing Wonwoo from a distance before he could ever get to you, leading your group to come out on top in this match, and for you to grin brightly.

“One left, boys!” You called, high fiving your team, and sticking your tongue out at Wonwoo, who could only shake his head at your antics.

The arena darkened with lights, as you sat down at your computer. The technology around you glowed with light, and your fingers almost felt as if they were pulsing with energy, as you made your final round bans and picks.

As you started the round, you opted to play as safe as possible in the start, gaining money. At one point, you were shocked, as you managed to kill Wonwoo, who eyed you from across the arena, daring you to try again. Again, you did.

If when you played together previously, it looked like dancing, this looked like war. You didn’t even care about the majority of the others, knowing they’d be fine, instead opting to go after the star player on the team. You and your bot lane pushed against Wonwoo, quickly taking him down time after time, until the first dragon appeared, and your own jungler lost it to their mid lane.

Around this time, you were positive the game was over. Wonwoo quickly turned the match on your head, giving back everything you were given, and then some. The match was going downhill, and nothing could stop them, as they approached your base, the familiar black and white screen turning red, as you lost the final match.

You let out a shaky breath, watching JACKL jump around in victory, and heading over to give you all a handshake, and your team quickly exited the stage, heading back to the locker room. A few members quickly left, but you opted to take a few interviews about your team, to help your fans stay calmer, promising victory next year.

After what felt like an eternity of interviews and pictures, you notice quite a few members of JACKL as they greet you, heading back home to their friends and family. You said goodbye to the others in your team, returning to the quiet locker room to grab your bag, only turning around at the sound of the door softly closing, seeing Wonwoo.

“Congrats,” You said, honestly. “As fucking annoying as it is to not be able to play much, you did your best.”

“Thank you.” Wonwoo said.

“But seriously? Pretty fucking annoying to be killed all the time. Don’t do it again next year.” You said, heading to the door, only for him to block it right in front of you.

“I know it’s annoying. Got a little feel of it today from you, to be honest.”

“Then why the hell do you do it so much?” You asked, exasperated.

“Honestly?” Wonwoo said, eyes scanning your face, the silence growing. “You’re really fucking hot when you’re pissed off.”

“I’m… sorry?” You asked, eyes blinking at him, bag falling off your shoulder.

Wonwoo moved closer to you, making you back up against the door. He let out a soft sigh, scanning your face, as he leaned in towards you.

“The first match I played against you, your teammate got you killed. I saw you curse him out over and over, and the angrier you got, I liked it,” he said, fixing your hair. “So, ever since then, I couldn’t help but piss you off.”

“Are- are you serious? You have to be joki-” You were cut off as Wonwoo kissed you quickly to shut you up.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was joking.” He said, ears red.

For a second, everything clicked into place. The first match you ever had with JACKL should have been a tell from the beginning. Your bot lane had made a stupid decision, not checking the grass next to you before letting you go in, and had instantly got you and him killed. You had been pissed beyond belief after he had promised he checked everything, and you had reamed him out for an hour over it during and after the game. Wonwoo had been watching you, in shock, and you thought he was being annoying when he killed you again, and suddenly started killing you every chance he got.

Jeon Wonwoo wasn’t being a dick.

No, it turns out he was just horny.

Something in your brain fizzled out, and you honestly couldn’t think anymore, as you reached up behind his neck, pulling him back down to meet your lips. Wonwoo tasted like the stupidly sweet lollipops he always ate before a match, and always used to tease you with. You supposed they held a different meaning to you, now, as his tongue licked your lips to kiss you deeper. His hands pulled your waist closer, dangerously close to your ass.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed before he had completely given in to grab your ass, muttering for you to jump. You hopped straight up, and wrapped your legs around his waist, and he carried the two of you from the doorway over to the couch on the other side of the room, dumping the two of you onto it.

“Hey,” Wonwoo said, hands on your hips, looking more at your lips than your eyes. “If you want to stop here, I’ll get it. But you’ve gotta let me know now.”

“Jeon Wonwoo, if you stop now, I’ll actually hate you for the rest of my life.” You said, and Wonwoo laughed, reaching up to take off his glasses, and setting them on a nearby table, before leaning down to kiss you again.

The grip on your thighs felt like fire, and you couldn’t help but let out a whimper as he moved to attach his lips to your neck, sucking a spot where your jaw meets your neck. You felt painfully aware of the heat growing in your stomach, letting your fingers move to his hair to lightly tug, keeping yourself grounded.

Wonwoo’s hips pressed into yours, and his fingers moved from your hips up your shirt. You lifted up your back as he yanked your shirt off, leaning back to take his off. You oogled him for a good minute, opting to run your fingers down his abs.

“Enjoying the view?” Wonwoo teased, and you nodded, playfully licking your lips.

“Who said video game nerds can’t be fit?” You teased.

He chose to ignore your comments, instead moving to remove your bra, and tossing it somewhere else in the room.

“Good thing I locked the fucking door.” He said, mouth moving to kiss down your neck, to your chest.

The moment his lips met your nipple, you let out a breathy moan. His hand met the waistband of your shorts, and he gave you a second before moving further, hand reaching to cover your mound.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t like it.” He said, and seconds later, his fingers were plunging into your core.

The two fingers within you felt like heaven, while his thumb moved in circular ministrations along your sensitive bud. The heat grew in your belly with every movement, and Wonwoo was forced to cover your mouth.

“Listen, I’m all for you being loud any other time, but I don’t want to get caught.” Wonwoo said. “Be quiet, or I’ll have to quiet you.” He warned, and you nodded.

The fogginess in your brain grew, and heat coiled in your belly, letting out a warning whimper to Wonwoo, who quickly removed his hand, licking at his fingers. You would’ve thought that was the hottest thing ever, except for the empty feeling in your belly making you irritated instead.

“What the fuck, Wonwoo.” You said, irritated.

“I’ll let you come on my fingers any day, but I’d rather the first time you do be with me in you.” He said, and your face reddened at the raunchy statement coming from his lips.

Instead of letting you say anything, Wonwoo lifted your hips to remove your shorts and underwear in one fell swoop, eyeing your soaked core, as he removed the rest of his clothes.

“Hate me this, hate me that, but you’re soaked,” Wonwoo teased, pulling your hips closer to his. “Last time to back out, mortal enemy.”

“Wonwoo, please,” You said, long past annoyed, and more desperate to come. “I will find anyone in this building if you don’t fuck me now.”

His eyes glinted at the challenge, and slowly pushed into your core. He let out a groan as he bottomed out, feeling you pulse around him. Once you gave the go ahead, Wonwoo began his slow movements in and out of your core, the sounds you made egging him on.

“Wonwoo, deeper, please.” You begged.

Wonwoo obliged to your begging, shifting your hips to hit deeper, and pulling you into a deep kiss to keep you quiet.

“Wonwoo, I’m so close, please don’t stop.” You begged in his ear.

The breathy moans in your ear weren’t doing anything to help the heat in your core, and the cord was threatening you, ready to snap. His hip movements grew sloppy as he moved to hold your hips in place, and one final thrust from Wonwoo had you seeing stars, and biting at Wonwoo’s hand over your mouth as you came, Wonwoo letting out a moan as he came, filling you. His body felt shaky as he pulled out of you, moving over to a table to grab a tissue, and cleaning up the mess before any of the couch stained.

He pulled on his clothes as you got up, looking around for your clothes, and he helped you get ready, in majority silence. Before you looked for your bag, however, he stopped you.

“I understand if I’ve turned you away from me from my shitty actions. To be honest, I’d probably feel the same, but I really do like you, and I mean it. I didn’t want to fuck you to take any advantage.” He said, nervous.

“Wonwoo, please, calm down. You may have been annoying, but you’re not a shit person. I know you didn’t hook up with me just to hook up,” You said, handing him his glasses to put on. “Um. I’m not terribly good at this, but I’d be willing to continue this… something, or whatever it is, if you want. Serious or not.” You said, and he beamed up at you, and you felt your heart squeeze.

He nodded, and grabbed your bag for you. “Let’s go, then.” He said, unlocking the door for you, and heading with you to your car.

—-////—-

The sucker in your mouth did nothing to calm your nerves, as you texted Wonwoo. After your escapade, you and him had a very private don’t-tell-anyone set up, not wanting anyone to fuck with the two of you. It worked for the better, as Wonwoo was able to sign with a new team with a big buck contract, even if it was going to be away from you. To be honest, you didn’t care about being public, and neither did he. Were you sometimes jealous of attention? Yes. Did the pictures and videos you saved from fans help? Also yes. To be fair, though, he was in your bed, not theirs, and it was victory enough.

The manager ran over to you to knock you out of your thoughts, gushing about the new team setup, and how the world wasn’t ready. Your message to Wonwoo remained on delivered as you spun in your chair, anxiety rising. To be honest, you were starting to get worried, as you stressed, as you tapped away mindlessly on your keyboard.

You sighed at the delivered on text, again, as you heard a ruckus growing in the entry of the dorms. Not dealing with that, you thought, until a hand on your chair stopped you from turning, and your sucker was ripped from your mouth. You turned to yell at whomever was next to you, only to freeze, seeing Wonwoo stick it into his mouth.

“What the fuck…?” You trailed off, as your manager came over.

“Oh! Glad you’re getting settled in, Wonwoo,” He said, and turned to you. “Our new jungler!”

You nodded to the manager in shock, and Wonwoo held a shit eating grin on his face as he stared at you the whole time, and winked at you. You slowly put your headset back on as the manager requested a quick game, and nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt Wonwoo touch your hand quickly, grinning at his screen, as the game started.

No, you didn’t hate Jeon Wonwoo, but he was absolutely going to be the death of you.

#jeon wonwoo imagines #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo smut #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #☀️ writes

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cha-melodius · 6 months ago

Note

💘💚🧡 or ♥️ for the kiss ficlet- your choice!

🧡 kissing in bed / lazy kiss / cuddling (ok, so the main heart I chose is listed above, buuut I also threw in first kiss (red) and mutual pining (arrow) because why not? read all the kiss ficlets)

In retrospect, he probably should have expected this.

When the heat had gone out in their building, they probably should have just bit the bullet and gotten one of their friends to put them up. But Pez was out of the country and hadn’t left Henry a key—rude—and June and Nora just had a small couch that’d barely fit Henry.

It was fine. It wasn’t gonna be that cold, and anyway they’d shared a bed before that one time when they’d road tripped to Texas in the summer and the hotel had messed up their reservation. They’re best friends. They regularly snuggle up against each other on the couch during movie night. It’s fine.

Alex is genuinely warm when he wakes up, so much so that he thinks the heat has come back on in the night. But no, the only furnace is his roommate, who’s currently plastered to his back. Alex shifts a little, but he doesn’t want to disrupt Henry when he’s sleeping so peacefully. So what if Alex is currently playing the role of an oversized teddy bear. He’s not complaining.

Henry wakes slowly, nuzzling his face a little into the back of Alex’s neck, and ok, that’s a little much for Alex’s poor heart to take. He can handle the casual physical intimacy, the hugs and friendly touches—dishes them out as much as Henry, in fact. But this is far too close to the quiet, secret desires of his heart, the ones he’s never been able to act on for fear of fucking up such a good thing. Henry’s arms tighten around him as he hums contentedly, and a moment later Alex could swear he feels Henry’s lips against his neck.

“Uh, H?” Alex croaks out.

Henry freezes, his entire body going stiff. “Shit,” he breathes against Alex’s neck. “I’m so sorry, Alex, I didn’t mean—”

He tries to pull away, but Alex catches him by the wrist and holds him tight, then turns over so that they’re facing each other, so close that Alex can count every one of his eyelashes. Jesus, he’s so fucking beautiful. There’s something in his eyes that makes Alex pause, that makes him settle Henry’s arm around his waist and scoot even closer, even though they’re only inches apart. Henry exhales shakily, but he doesn’t try to pull away again.

“Alex?” he murmurs. “What are you doing?”

“Enjoying this,” Alex replies. “Being in your arms.”

“Is that… something you like?”

“Mm,” Alex hums in confirmation. “You?”

Henry lets out a breath, a little smile curling onto his lips. “Very much.”

Emboldened, Alex nuzzles a little closer, until their noses are brushing. “I also liked it when you kissed my neck.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah,” Alex breathes. “I’d be up for more. Kissing, I mean. If that’s something you—”

He gets what he wants: Henry kisses him, a gentle, brief press of his lips to Alex’s. Then he’s trying to pull away, but Alex just pushes forward, letting his lips part and welcoming Henry in. It’s a slow, lazy slide of lips and swipe of tongues, the kind of kiss that feels like it could go on forever, and Alex is inclined to let it. Apparently, so is Henry, because they kiss for some obscene amount of time before he finally breaks out of it.

“Should we get up, do you think?”

Alex just tightens his hold, snuggling closer. “Why? ’S cold out there.”

“Right you are, love,” Henry laughs, and kisses him again.

#rwrb #rwrb fic #red white and royal blue #firstprince #firstprince fic #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #my fic #kiss ficlets

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winchesterwild78 · 5 months ago

Text

The Ranch pt 6

Master List

Characters: Jensen-cowboy, single dad, x Reader-city girl moved to country to get away from it all

Warnings/Theme: Mention of death, loss of pregnancy, physical violence

A/N: A short little story featuring our favorite green eyed cowboy, not an actor in this, lives on a ranch in Texas, is a widower with 3 kids. Reader is a city girl who moves to the country to get away from her ex and start a new life. She takes a job on the ranch and things develop between her and the cowboy. Internal dialogue in italics.

So much love and thanks to @cheynovak for the idea. ♥️ All work is my own. No disrespect to anyone, this is a work of fiction. Real names are used, but again this is a work of fiction. Do not take my work

*Couldn’t leave y’all hanging for too long. This one will reveal what she did.*

Minors DNI 18+

The next you were awake early. You had been crying off and on all night long. The night nurse came in and sat with you for a while and you two talked. She offered you advice and you had to make a decision. “Honey, I know that man loves you. Nothing you’ve done could change that. You need to trust your love and his love for you, and be honest with him. At least give him a chance to make a decision.”

You nodded, “I know, I’m just so scared. I can’t expect him to love me and be okay with it, when I can’t even forgive myself.” “Oh honey, you have to forgive yourself.” She kept you company even when her shift was over.

It was about 8am when there was a soft knock at your door. You told them to come in and Jensen walked in. His eyes were shining and he was wearing the biggest smile on his face. The nurse touched your arm, “You’ll be okay.” You nodded and she left.

Jensen came in, crossed the room and pressed his lips to yours. His kiss always made you feel safe and loved. Tears fell from your eyes, “Jens, I need to talk to you.” Fear filled Jensen’s eyes. “What’s wrong baby?”

You motioned for him to sit down, he took the seat near your bed. Taking your hand in his, “Baby, please talk to me. You’re scaring me.” “Jensen, I love you so much. I love your kids like they are my own. But I don’t know if this is going to work. I’ve done horrible things that I’ve kept from you.

Jensen swallowed hard, “Baby, whatever it is we can get through it.” You looked in Jensen’s eyes and sobbed. “Please, Y/N, talk to me.”

You took a deep breath and took his hand, holding it tight. “About 3 years ago Alex and I were on a trip. He didn’t want to stop at a hotel on the way home, so we would switch off driving. I would sleep, while he would drive, and then we would switch. It was about 8 o’clock in the morning and I was driving. I wanted to stop but he insisted I keep driving.” You let out a sob as you continued to remember what happened.

Jensen stood and wrapped his arms around you, “It’s okay baby. Take your time. It’s going to be okay.” You held him tight, taking in his smell. You loved the way he smelled. Taking a deep breath, you let it out and started talking again. “I was so tired. I begged him to let me stop and he take over driving. He said he was tired and I was fine. I kept driving, trying to get us home. I accidentally dozed off and hit a curb.”

Jensen held your hand tighter. You put your head down. “Jensen, I can’t. You’ll hate me. I can’t tell you.” Jensen stood, cupped your face in his hands, “Y/N, look at me, Nothing, I mean NOTHING could ever make me stop loving you, or hate you. I love you, you’re it for me. I want to marry you, have children with you, raise all of our children together. Please, talk to me.”

You nodded and tears slipped out, Jensen wiped them away. “When I woke up I was in the hospital. When I hit the curb I blacked out. There were police in my room and they were questioning me. I had to submit to a drug test, and they checked to see if I had alcohol in my system. I didn’t understand why they would ask me for a simple accident.

Then the chief came in, read me my rights and placed me under arrest. I was crying and nobody told me what was going on. They finally told me I was under arrest for vehicular manslaughter. When I hit the curb I hit a little girl. She was learning how to ride her bike. Her name was Rachel, she had blue eyes and blond hair, she was 4 years old. I killed her, Jensen. I hit her with my car and killed her.” You broke down, sobbing. Gasping for air as the tears fell.

Jensen threw his arms around you, “Shh, it’s okay. It was an accident. It wasn’t your fault. It was just a terrible accident.” Tears slipped from Jensen’s eyes too. He hated seeing you like this. He knew the accident wasn’t your fault. You calmed down enough to tell him what happened after the accident, “The charges were dropped, because it was ruled an accident. I went to therapy to try to deal with the guilt. I just couldn’t bring myself to forgive what I had done. About a year after the accident I ended up pregnant with Alex’s baby. I was happy but felt so guilty. I was about 4 ½ months along and I lost the baby. Alex told me it was my fault, it was God’s way of punishing me for killing Rachel. Losing my baby just broke me all over again. So, I’m damaged. I don’t blame you if you don’t want me around your children anymore, and if you don’t want to be with me. I don’t know if I can give you children. I’m so sorry Jensen. I should have told you.”

Jensen looked in your eyes and pulled you close to him. “Baby, listen to me, I trust you with my children’s lives, I still want to be with you, I want to marry you, and if we can’t have children together, it’s fine. We have three amazing kids at home already. Why would you think I wouldn’t want you?”

“Alex. Anytime I told him I was going to leave him he held the accident over my head. He knew I couldn’t forgive myself and he used it against me. He told me you wouldn’t forgive me and you wouldn’t love me anymore. I’m so sorry, Jensen. I told him I’d go back with him. I wanted to protect you and the kids. I couldn’t face you.”

“Shh, it’s okay baby. That bastard isn’t going to get you or near you ever again. Come on baby, let’s get you ready to go home. To our home with our family.” You smiled and nodded. Jensen pulled you in and placed a soft kiss on your lips, your hands went behind his neck and deepened the kiss. When he pulled away he looked at you, “I love you baby, so much.”

You noticed it was close to 1pm, “Jensen, Alex said he’d be back at 1 to get me. What am I going to do?” “You get ready to go home, I’ll handle him.” He kissed your head, helped you out of bed and to the shower. You got in and showered so you could get ready to go home. Jensen walked to the nurses station, “Hey, good afternoon. My girlfriend is about to go home, and her ex has been bothering her. Is there any way we can prevent him from getting in here?” The nurse looked at Jensen and smiled, “Of course we can. I’ll get security here to talk to you.” ‘Thank you, ma’am.”

Jensen stood at the desk waiting. The head security guard came and the two of them talked. He assured Jensen, Alex would be stopped at the door and prevented entry. Jensen thanked him and returned to your room.

You had just finished getting dressed when Jensen walked in. “Everything is set, sweetheart. Security is going to stop Alex. Now, let’s go home.” The two of you gathered your stuff and discharge papers and headed out. You waited at the front entrance for Jensen to bring the truck around. As you stood waiting, you heard someone call your name.

You turned and saw Alex walking up. “Hey baby, ready to go home?” He asked. “Alex, I’m not going with you. I told Jensen everything and he and I are going home. So, please leave.” Alex grabbed your arm and started to pull you towards his car, “I told you, you’re mine! I own you!” You jerked your arm away “Get off of me!” You screamed. Alex slapped you across your face. Before you could process what was happening Jensen had pounced on Alex. He was punching him. You were trying to pull Jensen off. “Jens, please stop! He’s not worth it.” Security came running out and pulled Jensen off. They detained both Alex and Jensen. You sat down crying.

The police showed up and took statements, Alex was charged with assault and attempted kidnapping and taken to jail. Jensen wasn’t charged because he was defending you. He walked over to you, put his arm around you and kissed your forehead, “Come on baby, let’s go home. The kids are waiting for you.”

You nodded and climbed in the truck. There was a pregnant silence that fell between the two of you. Your mind started racing. Then Jensen broke the silence, “Y/N, you know you losing your baby wasn’t punishment, right?” Your eyes pricked with tears, “I’m not sure about that. Even after I lost the baby I couldn’t get pregnant again. I’m sure I’m not supposed to have any babies of my own because I took someone else’s away.” Jensen’s heart broke. “Oh baby, it doesn’t work like that. I promise it doesn’t. I’m okay with trying if you want to. I don’t care if we’re not married.”

You looked at Jensen wide eyed, “You’d really want to have a baby with me. Even after all of this?” Jensen pulled the truck over and put it in park. He climbed out, walked to your door and opened it. Reaching in he unbuckled your seatbelt and pulled you out of the truck. Taking your face in his hands he locked eyes with you. “I love you, more than anything. I want to marry you and have children with you. Damnit I was going to wait.” He reached behind you and pulled out a small velvet box. Your breath hitched.

Jensen got on one knee, took your hands in his and looked at you. “Y/N, you came into my life unexpectedly and at a time the kids and I really needed you. You had no idea how broken we were. The day you had pictures made for my kids I knew right then I was completely and irrevocably in love with you. You are my home. I love you today, tomorrow and forever. I’d be honored if you’d do me the absolute honor of becoming my wife. Will you marry me?”

Tears streamed down your face and you pulled him up and kissed him. His lips still on yours he chuckled, “so is that a yes?” You laughed, “Yes! Yes I’ll marry you!” He slid the diamond on your finger and pulled you back into his arms.

The two of you got back in the truck and headed home. Once inside the kids came running up to you and hugged you. They helped you over to the couch. You smiled at Jensen, who looked at his children, “Hey guys, Y/N and I need to tell you something.”

Part 7….coming soon.

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