#i'm gonna have to figure out something better... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zyafics-recs · 2 days ago

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reblogging comment review from @zyafics

too obsessed with this series to stop (i also think it's so hilarious this started as a oneshot request 😭) ur brain just couldn't stop ⬇️

It was a burden you bore silently, the weight of protecting your brother from a world that seemed determined to break you both.

GIGI WROTE HER FOR ME

There were moments, rare and fleeting when you allowed yourself to dream. You imagined a future where you and JJ were free from the chains of your upbringing. But dreams were a luxury you could rarely afford.

god i love ur writing i swear this fic gets better with a new update

“They chew up people like you.” “I’ve been chewed up by worse.”

oooo reader 1: rafe 0 she ate him up

"Change of plans."Before you could react, he pushed you back inside the room, slamming the door shut. He didn’t push you hard enough to fall, but the treason came so suddenly that you nearly lost your balance as you heard the lock click, the sound echoing ominously in the small space.

why was this so clever (also rafe's obsession w locking people in rooms 😭)

So, nothing new, you wanted to tell him. Any place infested with men or drunk men was a trap of its own. But instead, you only offered him a curt nod of thanks before dashing out the door again. You needed to find Rafe, you couldn’t afford to waste any time.

i honestly would've sat in my room n draw or smth

Were you getting mugged?

with no money 😭

His left eye twitched in irritation, the look he gave you filled with enough ire to leave a hint of satisfaction sparking in your chest, “Maybank, I have half a mind to spank you right now, don’t fucking push it.”

hes so kinky (do it)

“Show me.”“Uh?”He nodded towards the gun in your hand. “Show me you know how to handle it.”

i just realized why ur writing is so magnetic; it's because u write almost like a screenplay, like i can visually see all of ur scenes played out on a show or a movie or something; especially your dialogues like it belongs in hollywood

“Atta girl.”

pls sir, just one chance 🛐

“They’re about you.”"Me?" you repeated confused, your voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment between you. Rafe nodded, scanning your face for any sign of understanding. "Yeah. You."Your brows pulled together, “What is?”He visibly gulped, pressing his lips together, blinking several times before releasing a held breath “The nightmares.”

oh my GODDDD

These were dangerous waters. If you couldn’t sleep before, you sure as hell weren’t about to do it now. All you could think about was that night, how he felt, how he touched you, how he fit right.

im giggling so hard rn

“Tell me stop, please,” His mouth brushed against your ear again, words coming out a slurred mess.

he's so whiny i love him

“Can’t belie—fuck. Can’t believe I get to have you again.”

i'm so quiet during this smut scene bc im enjoying it too much

He collapsed onto you, both of you panting and trembling. His weight was comforting, his breath hot against your neck as he pressed soft kisses to your skin, his earlier roughness giving way to a tender aftermath.

he's so hot ohmyfuckinggod

He cradled your face in his hands. "We’re gonna be okay," his breath felt warm against your lips. The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten with emotion.

back to our regular scheduled program: emotions

"Yeah, I am. This...And—don’t know what I’m doing either. But I want it. I want you."“But it’s wrong.”“I know, pretty.”

they r so enemies to lovers u did this so well

"We’ll figure this out, Maybank.”“Promise?”He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly. Promises weren’t something he was used to making, you knew that. But then he nodded.“Promise.”

i love them so much i could cry

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

FINAL THOUGHTS | god this smut scene was TOO good i gotta say ur best work to DATE 🤭 okay, okay, but onto the real business. i think what i love about this part (i think this has to be my favorite part by far) is that, like i said, ur writing plays out like a movie. the way you describe things with such beautiful prose and the way their dialogues bounce off each other. i always compliment your dialogues because it's so true, i am in absolute love with the way it feels so rich and organic and unpredictable (not in a bad way). like there's a conventional storytelling to certain scenes/dialogues but you always manage to surpass expectations and make it innovative and engaging! i fucking love how you build the intimacy through rafe and reader through touch and little acts where you have to read between the lines to understand. and when i get them? 🫠 reader is so independent and stands on her own shit which i love and it reminds me a little too much like me (who said that) but overall, for this specific part, i was obsessed with their banter during the gun scene, and during the smut (of course) but just truly, the way you WRITE it's so so incredible. i'm trying to find better words to explain myself. i love how rafe was yearning for her so badly during the smut, but he backed off bc she said so, and kept asking for clarity and she gave it. it gave me butterflies fr (u saw how quiet i was during that whole scene i barely annotated) and i love the way he kept praising her (blushing fr 🥰) because ur dirty talk is TOP TIER!!! and lastly lastly, the way their fears is embedded in things changing and how they have to confront this new reality of them falling for each other 💘

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - three

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"

WARNINGS: maybank!reader; smut!; rafe is a red flag; guns; mentions of human trafficking; 80% of it is smut you've been warned;

word count: 7.9k...

part i; part ii; part iv

Growing up, you had to develop a thick skin. With two deadbeat parents, it wasn't a choice—it was a necessity. Unlike JJ, you never blamed your mother for leaving. She was a victim too, and despite your nightly wishes and prayers that she had taken you with her, you found solace in knowing that at least one of you had escaped the torment of the Maybank household.

You learned early on to rely only on yourself. While you had your younger brother, you never placed that burden on his shoulders. As the older sister, it was your responsibility to take the blame for everything and to shield him from Luke's drunken or drug-fueled rages. You never resented JJ for it, you couldn’t—neither of you asked to be born into this situation.

You tried to take each day slowly, avoiding the house and staying at John B's as much as possible. It was easier said than done; it was hard not to feel like a burden to your friends, especially since you were the one who had to be the adult in the group. Kie, Pope, John B…They weren’t supposed to take care of you. And yet, they did. They took you in, shared their homes, and gave you the semblance of family you craved but never had. It was a delicate balance, living with a foot in both worlds: the chaotic storm of the Maybank household and the calm haven of your friends' places.

At John B's, despite its share of brokenness, it provided a refuge where you could breathe without the constant fear of violence. You often found yourself on the porch, watching the sunset over the marsh, your mind wandering to dreams of freedom. Those moments were precious, tiny pockets of peace in a turbulent life. But no matter how much you tried to distance yourself from the chaos, it was always there, lurking in the background.

Luke Maybank’s shadow was long and dark, and it followed you everywhere. Each time your phone buzzed with a message from JJ, your heart would race, fearing the worst. It was a burden you bore silently, the weight of protecting your brother from a world that seemed determined to break you both.

You eased into being the provider, to think, to act, to protect. It became second nature, an ingrained part of your identity forged from necessity. While others your age worried about trivial matters, you were strategizing the best ways to keep your brother safe, figuring out how to stretch what little money you had, and ensuring that there was always something for JJ to eat, even if it meant you went without.

You learned how to calm Luke down when he was on the brink of a violent outburst, and how to read the signs of an impending storm in his eyes. You figured out which neighbors might turn a blind eye to your requests for help, and which ones might call social services if they saw too much. There were moments, rare and fleeting when you allowed yourself to dream. You imagined a future where you and JJ were free from the chains of your upbringing. But dreams were a luxury you could rarely afford.

So, when Rafe told you—no, demanded—that you stayed in the deadbeat motel room while he met up with his contacts, you lost it.

He'd gotten the text earlier in the morning and decided he was smart enough to lure you out of this. Except he wasn't.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not going.”

You didn’t take it lightly to people making choices for you. Your eyebrows shot up, mouth opening in indignant shock, "You think you can just order me around like I'm some puppet? I'm not staying here while you go off and do God knows what.”

Rafe's eyes narrowed. He wasn’t used to people standing up to him, and for a moment, he looked like he might’ve backed down. But then his expression hardened, the arrogance, and entitlement you’d grown to familiarize yourself with flaring up again.

"It's for your own good," he said, his tone condescending. "You don't understand the kind of people I'm dealing with. It's dangerous."

"Dangerous?" you laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "You think I don’t know what danger is? Look around, Cameron.”

Rafe opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off, stepping closer and jabbing a finger into his chest. You’d done a lot of that recently.

"It’s my life on the line too,” you said, your voice low and steady. "And I’m not going to sit here and wait for you to come back like some obedient little bitch.”

His face practically matched the color of the deep red curtains, “You’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be, Maybank.”

"No, you are," you fired back. "I’m going with you.”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

He took a step away from you, fingers pointed at his temples, “What part of fucking dangerous do you not get?”

“If it’s dangerous for me, it’s dangerous for you.”

The defiance in your fixed look mirrored his own stubbornness. Rafe’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tensing visibly. His gaze bore into yours, and you’d be damned if you were the first one to look away.

“This isn’t a game,” he said, his voice tight with frustration. “You have no idea what these people are capable of.”

“Maybe not,” you conceded, “But I’m not staying behind and you’re not going alone.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand along his grown-out hair.

“They chew up people like you.”

“I’ve been chewed up by worse.”

He knew that. For a moment it looked like he might’ve argued. And then, he saw the determination in you, that unyielding resolve that drove him up the fucking walls and he understood that he wasn’t going to win the fight. Unless he played dirty.

“You’re too stubborn, y’know that, right?”

You chose to ignore him, grabbing the simple sweater he’d gotten for you the day before at a local market, “So, when do we leave?”

He almost sprinted to the door, “Now.”

You moved to follow him as he stepped outside into the hallway, but before you could follow, he grabbed your arm.

"Wait."

You almost pulled away, frustration boiling over.

"What now?"

His grip tightened, "This might hurt.”

"What?" You tried to twist free, glaring at him.

"Change of plans."

Before you could react, he pushed you back inside the room, slamming the door shut. He didn’t push you hard enough to fall, but the treason came so suddenly that you nearly lost your balance as you heard the lock click, the sound echoing ominously in the small space.

"Rafe! You piece of shit!” You pounded on the door, fury and panic mixing in your chest. "Let me out! You can't do this!"

His voice was muffled but firm from the other side. "Stay here.”

"You motherfucker!" You screamed, kicking the door. But there's no response from the other side. The only sound was the echo of your own frantic breathing. He was gone, the stupid bastard.

You collapsed against the door, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Rafe just left you there, locked like some helpless child. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

You were a Maybank, damn it, and Maybanks didn’t back down from a fight, even when their choices were taken from them.

In any other situation, you would’ve jumped out the window. You’d done it enough times back home, but this was different. Your room’s floor was too high and even though you could get away with just a few scrapes or a broken finger, you couldn’t risk putting yourself in such a vulnerable state. You needed your body intact in case danger was nearby. If you had to run for your life, you needed both legs functioning.

You glanced around the room, eyes landing on the bed, its frame sturdy and dependable.

That’s it! You thought to yourself as you rushed over and began to strip the sheets from the mattress, working quickly as you tied them together, creating a makeshift rope.

And they said pogues weren’t fucking smart.

It wasn’t your best work, but it was the best you could have under the circumstances. Once you had fashioned the rope, you secured one end to the bed frame, testing it to ensure it could hold your weight. Satisfied that it was sturdy enough, you tossed the other end out the window, watching as it unfurled down the side of the building.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you gripped the makeshift rope tightly and began to lower yourself out the window. It wasn’t your first rodeo; you knew better than to rush. Your heart pounded in your chest as you slowly inched your way down the side of the building, the ground looming ever closer with each passing moment.

Finally, your feet touched solid ground, and you released a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You tried to remember bits and pieces of information Rafe had laid out the night before, about the meeting, something about a dingy marine bar, a bartender named Miguel.

You rushed back inside the motel, ignoring the puzzled look from the front desk guy as you practically demanded information about the bar. He hesitated clearly taken aback by your urgency, the way you blurted out the words, but you didn’t have time for explanations.

"Just tell me where it is," you pleaded, your voice urgent, “It’s important.”

After a moment of hesitation, he relented, quickly scribbling down an address on a piece of paper and thrusting it into your hand.

"It's not far from here," his tone was wary, "But be careful. That place is no good for a lady on her own.”

You nearly raced through the streets, the address clutched tightly in your hand, a feeling of unease gnawing at the pit of your stomach. And then, before you could process what the hell was going on, a hand enveloped your upper arm, fingers digging dip in your flesh before you could make a turn, dragging you to the dark alley you’d avoided.

The situation felt all too familiar. Your heart leaped into your throat, adrenaline surging in and out of your veins. Instinctively, you struggled against the unknown grip, kicking and clawing in a desperate attempt to break free. Were you getting mugged?

"Let go of me!" you shout, your voice echoing off the narrow walls of the alley, “I got nothing on me, let me go you stupid fuck!”

With a surge of adrenaline, you mustered all your strength and delivered a sharp elbow to your captor's stomach, causing them to grunt in pain and loosen their hold for a brief moment. You wrenched yourself free, stumbling backward as you scrambled to put some distance between you and your attacker. You were about to land the best punch of your life as you spun around to face them, but as you finally got a good look at him, fear turned into anger.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“Me?” Rafe barked, all up in your personal space, “What the fuck is wrong with you? You jumped out a fucking window?!”

He knew you wouldn’t back down so easily. So he waited around the corner, hoping you were smart enough to keep still even though he knew you would never.

You blinked, the shock of seeing him in front of you momentarily overriding your anger. "You... You locked me in there!"

"Yeah, because you wouldn't listen!" he shot back, his frustration evident in his tone, “Fuck—Jesus fucking Christ.” He was shaking his head wildly, his hands balled into fists as he cursed away like a mantra.

"I told you; I'm not staying behind while you go off risking your life!" You nearly spit but managed to tone down just enough.

"And I told you, it's too dangerous for you!" Rafe's voice rose with each word, his hands balling into fists at his sides. His pacing intensified, his agitation palpable in the confined space of the alley. “What the hell were you thinking? What were you gonna do? Walk in and what, huh? You don't even have a gun on you!"

“So? Give me yours!”

Rafe’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Give you, my gun?! Did you hit your fucking head against the concrete?

“I’ll hit your head against the concrete if I have to.”

You ignored him, “You’d rather I go in there unarmed?” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “I can do it.”

“Clearly. Look at you,” Rafe’s voice was sharp, his frustration evident. “You think I wanted to leave you behind? You think I liked putting you in that room?”

“You didn't give me a choice! You think I was just gonna sit around waiting for you?”

Rafe sighed, palms pressing into his eyes “I’m trying to protect you, God fucking damn it. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Save it,” You hissed out, pressing a hand to your chest as though to keep everything in. “How am I supposed to trust you when you pull this—this shit!”

Rafe reached into the waistband of his trousers, his movements slow and deliberate. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled out his gun, lifting his shirt in the process. He took your hand and dropped it into your palm, his touch firm.

“Show me.”

“Uh?”

He nodded towards the gun in your hand. “Show me you know how to handle it.”

The sudden shifts in his attitude always left you speechless. You hesitated, staring at the weapon in your hand. You had never held a gun before, let alone fired one. But the authority in Rafe’s eyes spurred you to action. With trembling fingers, you checked the safety and made sure the gun was loaded, trying to mimic what you had seen in movies.

“Alright,” Rafe said, his voice low. “Now, point it at me.”

You only gaped in disbelief. “What?!”

“I said point it at me,” he repeated, his tone firm, “C’mon.”

You swallowed hard, your grip tightening on the gun. This was crazy. With shaky hands, you raised the gun, aiming it at Rafe’s chest. Your heart pounded in your ears, the weight of the weapon feeling heavier with each passing second.

“Good,” Rafe said, nodding in approval. “Now, pull the trigger.”

“What the hell?! Rafe?!”

“Trust me, Maybank, just once.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Pull the trigger? He wasn’t fucking serious, was he? You couldn’t actually shoot him, could you?

But Rafe’s expression remained steady, unwavering. Maybe months ago you would’ve done it without a second guess, now? “I’m not pulling the trigger.”

“Just do it. You’re not going to hurt me, okay?”

With a deep breath, you squeezed the trigger, half expecting the gun to recoil in your hand. But nothing happened. You had forgotten to chamber a round. He knew that already.

Rafe’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, as if the entire situation was normal, “You forgot to chamber a round.”

You watched him carefully, his bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss him. You lowered the gun, your hands shaking with adrenaline. You had just fired a weapon for the first time in your life. He reached out and gently took the gun from your hand, expertly chambering a round before handing it back to you.

“Try again.”

This time, when you aimed the gun at the wall and pulled the trigger, you felt the recoil jolt along your body as the bullet fired. The sound echoed off the walls of the alley, causing your heart to race even faster.

“Atta girl.”

“I’m still pissed, Cameron.”

“I know,” Rafe conceded, his voice softening slightly as he reached up to brush your hair from your eye, fingers grazing the side of your neck. “I panicked, okay?”

You studied him for a moment, taking in the tired lines around his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. He’d done so much for you over the past weeks, it shook you to the core. The countless times he had gone above and beyond, selflessly putting your needs before his own. So maybe, just maybe…you could let it go.

“Okay.”

"Let's go.”

“Wait, right now?”

“Yeah,” Rafe said, his tone brisk as he holstered the gun. "We’re late.”

⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Hours later, you collapsed onto the bed, the weight of what just transpired settling heavily on your shoulders, as you and Rafe sat in silence, the events of the meeting replaying in your mind like a broken record. You’d never met such a group of people before. And you didn’t want to, ever again.

"Human traffickers," you muttered, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. "I can't believe we just met with human traffickers."

Rafe nodded solemnly; his expression unreadable. "Yeah.”

"I don't trust them. What if... What if they decide to snatch us up and... Oh my god, what if this is all just a ploy..."

“Hey, look at me,” he said, voice weirdly soft, “We’re in this together, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You wanted to believe him.

Your brow furrowed, your mind racing with questions. “How do you even know these people?”

He hesitated, “Barry. It’s... a long story. But right now, what’s important is that we got a way out, yeah?”

You nodded slowly, realizing that asking him for more information wouldn’t get you anywhere. There were more important matters at hand.

You didn’t know what was worse, running from Ward Cameron, finding yourself at the mercy of human traffickers, or potentially developing feelings for someone who’d ruined so many lives.

God, if your brother saw you now…you’d be the greatest disappointment of his life. The mere idea consumed you entirely. The things you’d done.

The way you’d let Rafe into your bloodstream. You hated yourself for it. Everything felt like it was spiraling out of your grasp, and you hated it.

What would you even tell him? You didn’t even know if had made it, but something told you that he did. He always did. And that meant that sooner or later you’d see him, and you’d have to watch him gradually despise you.

And then there was Rafe. The very thought of him made you want to stop breathing altogether. How could you even begin to reconcile the feelings you harbored for someone who had brought so much pain and destruction into your life? It felt like a betrayal to even consider it.

“You good, Maybank?”

You dragged your gaze away from the swirling fan on the ceiling to meet Rafe's concerned stare. He was studying you intently. You shifted on the bed, turning to face him fully.

"I don’t know,” you muttered, forcing a weak smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, “You?”

He reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch always surprised you, how surprisingly light it felt, a stark contrast to the chaos that seemed to constantly surround him.

“I don’t know.”

He had every reason to abandon you, to wash his hands clean of the entire situation, but he hadn’t. You nodded, a lump forming in your throat. It was hard to believe that someone like him could be capable of such tenderness, such vulnerability. But there he was, lying beside you, his attention fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race.

“They’re about you.”

"Me?" you repeated confused, your voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment between you.

Rafe nodded, scanning your face for any sign of understanding. "Yeah. You."

Your brows pulled together, “What is?”

He visibly gulped, pressing his lips together, blinking several times before releasing a held breath “The nightmares.”

You almost stopped breathing, "What about them?"

He shifted uncomfortably, “They used to be just about my mom. Then dad. Now, it’s—uh, it’s just you. Ever since that night, it’s just you. Dying, because of—yeah.”

Oh.

You hadn’t realized the extent of the impact that night had on him, on both of you. It was a lot to process, the realization that you had become a part of his nightmares, a constant haunting presence in his thoughts. Rafe’s fingers brushed over the scar on your arm, and a rush of memories flooded your mind. The gunshots, the crippling fear you felt when they got to you, how Rafe reacted, how he touched you.

“You should’ve told me before.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

You flinched instinctively at his touch, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through your body. But as it lingered, a strange sense of comfort washed over you, like a balm soothing an old wound. For a moment, you let yourself lean into his touch, allowing the warmth of his hand to chase away the ghosts that haunted you.

"Does it still hurt?" He asked, leaning in so his nose brushed against yours; it was warm against your skin.

You shook your head, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Not anymore."

His fingers continued their path up, eventually reaching your cheek as he cupped it tenderly, carefully, as if he’d break you if he rushed it.

You closed your eyes, savoring the closeness between you. And then, almost hesitantly, you felt him lean in, his mouth brushing against yours in a delicate caress. You hardly had to move to kiss him, only tilting your chin up. It was tender, different from the ones you had before, just so quiet that it made you want to burst into tears.

Once again, you felt a rush of conflicting emotions coursing between you. Guilt, fear, desire, all intertwined in a tumultuous dance within your heart.

You kissed him back, tentatively at first, then with a growing hunger that mirrored the longing you felt deep within your soul. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as if afraid to let you slip away. And you melted into his embrace, your bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the dangers lurking in the shadows, not the weight of your past sins, not the uncertain future that lay ahead. All that existed was the intoxicating feeling between you and Rafe.

But as the kiss deepened, a voice of reason scolded you in the back of your mind, reminding you of the consequences of your actions. You pulled away, breathless and dizzy, your heart pounding in your chest.

“We shouldn’t…” you mumbled, your voice barely audible over the beating of your heart.

Rafe only stared, before he nodded, understanding dawning in him. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his touch lingering like a promise of things left unsaid.

“I know,” he sighed, “Just get some rest.”

You nodded in agreement, grateful for the distraction. With a heavy grunt, you lifted yourself off the bed, making your way to the bathroom to change into some booty shorts and a simple tee. When you emerged from the bathroom, Rafe was already settled on the bed, only in his boxers, his attention fixed on some point in the distance. You hesitated for a moment before joining him, the distance and closeness between you feeling suffocating.

You wanted to say something, anything to break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat like a lump of lead. Instead, you settled for a nod, and a quiet “Goodnight.”

You slipped under the covers, the warmth of the blankets cocooning you in a false sense of security.

“Night, pretty Maybank.”

You shut your eyelids, willing your racing mind to quiet down. But no matter how hard you tried, sleep eluded you, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant sound of passing cars sent a shiver down your spine, your senses heightened to the point of paranoia. You shifted restlessly in bed, the new sheets tangling around your legs like shackles, trapping you in a prison of your own making.

You heard Rafe's voice beside you, breaking the silence of the room, “Can’t sleep if you keep moving.”

“Sorry.”

Rafe reached out, his hand finding yours in the darkness, “What is it?”

“I can’t sleep.”

Rafe's hand tightened around yours, "I know, Maybank," he spoke in a ushed tone, "But you're safe here. Try to relax, okay?"

You squeezed your eyes shut, already feeling the upcoming headache, “I don’t know how to.”

It was quiet again for a minute and you feared you’d bored the man to sleep with your insecurities, but then he spoke again, “Turn around.”

You opened your eyes, even though you could barely see him, face twisting into confusion.

“What?”

Rafe's thumb gently brushed against the back of your hand in a soothing rhythm, “Turn round f’me, kay?”

With a soft sigh, you shifted, turning onto your side to face away from him.

Rafe moved closer, his body pulling against yours as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you snugly against his chest. His warmth enveloped you like a shield as he pressed a light kiss to the back of your neck, his lips lingering against your skin.

“There,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. “Better?”

Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Your pulse quickened, and your skin tingled. An almost overwhelming feeling of arousal took over you, and with whatever courage you had left from the day, you shifted again, pressing yourself impossibly closer to him. His warmth seeped into your skin, melting away the tension that had coiled tight in your muscles during the day, you could feel every ridge and turn of his body.

Your touch drew a low, guttural groan from Rafe, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed closer, his arousal unmistakable against your back. His teeth grazed your shoulder, followed by the flick of his tongue, and you released a breathy sigh as he lowered his head to bite the area.

His arm tightened around you as you traced the contours of his fingers, mapping out the familiar territory with ease and want. His heartbeat echoed against your back, a steady rhythm that matched the frantic beat of your own heart.

His lips brushed against your neck, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core, “Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and hoarse with purpose, “’M right here.”

With a boldness that surprised even yourself, you shifted your hips, grinding back against him, seeking the friction that would ease the ache between your legs and your head. Rafe's response was immediate, his hands roaming over your body with a fervor that left you dizzy. His fingers found their way to the hem of your shorts, teasing the sensitive skin with feather-light touches that sent shivers down your spine. You twisted your fingers into his long hair, tugging lightly, delighting in the gasp it pulled from him.

“Tell me stop, please,” His mouth brushed against your ear again, words coming out a slurred mess.

You ran you finger over his leg, where his boxers had risen, the warm skin driving you insane. If you lifted your fingers just a little higher, you’d be able to feel all of him.

You had to bite back a squeal when his thumb brushed over your covered nipple, “I can’t.”

You felt the tension in his muscles as he paused for a moment, his grip on you tightening. An unrestrained, almost desperate plea escaping his mouth, "Are you sure?"

You swallowed hard, the weight of his question settling over you. The uncertainty, the fear, and the desire all came down together in a chaotic swirl. This was so fucking wrong. But underneath it all, you knew what you wanted. You turned your head slightly, your lips grazing his jawline as you muttered a "Yes."

You gasped when Rafe raised his thigh, placing it between your own, as he used his hands on your hips to guide you back and forth, grinding you down against his skin. You couldn’t remember a time you’d ever felt so out of control, so desperate for someone’s touch. The thin barrier of your shorts and panties felt like an unbearable hindrance, a small but significant obstruction to the shattering desire coursing through your veins.

One of his hands slipped under the waistband of your panties, the other splaying across your stomach, holding you firmly in place. His fingers found you slick and ready, a whimper vibrating across his chest at the discovery.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, his fingers starting a slow, torturous rhythm against your clit. You bucked against his hand, seeking more, needing more. Your head fell back against his shoulder, and you turned slightly to capture his lips in a heated kiss. You felt his tongue press against yours and you nearly came on the spot. He slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into him, “I can’t stop touching you.”

You struggled to form words as breathy moans escaped your mouth, “Please don’t,” you rasped, your thoughts blurring as he dipped the tips of his fingers inside you, gathering your wetness. When you finally found your voice, it was a mere screech, “Rafe...”

“I’ve got you,” he murmured back, finally pushing two fingers inside you, at an agonizing pace, “I’ve got you.”

Your jaw went slack as he curled his thick fingers, a gasp escaping when he found that spot that made you see stars. Your nails involuntarily dug into his skin. The heel of his hand pressed against your clit, pulling another moan from you. With his other hand still on your hip, he pushed you back, guiding you to grind against his fingers.

The rhythm he set was maddening, each movement driving you closer to the edge. Rafe's breath was hot against your neck, his voice a growl as he removed his fingers, making you whine in protest.

He glided one between your folds, the wetness easing up the process, “You’re so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his words sending a thrill down your spine. “Can’t get enough of you.”

“Ra—You’re gonna make me cum,” you gasped as his arm left your waist, sliding underneath your ribcage and resting on your chest, kneading your breast through the fabric of your shirt, “Fuck.”

“Yeah, baby, that’s the point,” he purred into your ear, two fingers sliding inside you again, so suddenly you threw your head back again, thighs clenching together tightly as he pumped his fingers in and out.

At this point, you were lightheaded, fucking yourself back onto him, grinding down as you chased your orgasm.

“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, Rafe...”

His fingers quickened their pace, each thrust sending oceans of pleasure down your body. “Not stopping,” he promised, his voice a rough whisper. “Want to feel you cum around my fingers.”

His words sent you spiraling, the buzz building to an unbearable peak. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling with the intensity of your approaching climax. Rafe's touch was relentless, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over.

“Rafe��” you cried out, your voice breaking as your orgasm crashed over you, wave after wave of intense pleasure radiating from your core. Your body convulsed, and you clung to him, nails digging into his arm as you rode out the ecstasy.

Rafe held you without a break, his fingers never slowing, drawing out every last tremor of your release. When you finally came down, breathless and spent, he gently withdrew his fingers, not giving you a break to breathe as he shuffled behind you, pulling his boxers down, just enough to release his aching cock, doing the same to you as he slid his length between your folds.

The sensation was…everything, his heaviness pressing against your sensitive, slick entrance, the heat of him making you shiver. You bit your lip, suppressing a scream as Rafe's hand gripped your hip, holding you steady.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, barely able to form coherent thoughts. The anticipation coiled inside you again, your body already aching for him, “’M sensitive.”

“Shhhh,” he purred, his voice husky and all rough against your ear. “Just relax, pretty.”

He rocked his hips slowly, the head of his fat cock teasing your entrance, not pushing in but sliding between your folds, spreading your wetness over his length. Holy fuck, you’d gone to heaven. The friction was maddening, each movement sending volumes of satisfaction through you.

Rafe's breath hitched, his grip on your hip tightening as he struggled for control. “You feel so good,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. “So perfect.”

“Oh my god,” you sigh, biting your lip when his tip bumped against your clit, “I need you to—Shit, just fuck me.”

With a slow, deliberate motion, he angled his hips and began to push inside you, inch by tantalizing inch. The stretch was exquisite, slowly filling you in a way that left you gasping, your body accommodating him with a shuddering breath.

“Jesus,” Rafe hissed, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as his cock twitched inside you. “So tight.”

Your fingers dug into the sheets, the thrill and the sensation of being filled to the hilt almost too much to bear. You could feel every part of him, the way he throbbed inside you, the way his body fit perfectly against yours. You felt his breathing against your skin, coming out in uneven and ragged breaths.

He started a slow, steady rhythm, each thrust measured and deep, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in. His other hand found your breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh through your shirt, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

You couldn’t hold back the mewls that escaped your lips, each movement driving you higher, the tension building again rapidly. Rafe’s breath was ragged against your ear, his lips brushing your skin in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. He gently bit your earlobe, withdrawing his hips until only the tip of him remained inside you, before slowly pushing back in with deliberate, languid movements. You reached back, tangling your fingers in his hair once again.

“Rafe... harder, please,” you begged, shame thrown out the window, “I need it harder.”

He moaned, the sound vibrating through his chest as he complied, his hips snapping against you with more force, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hand slid down from your chest to your clit, circling the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts, driving you closer to the edge.

You felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening, your body tensing as you teetered on the brink.

“Can’t belie—fuck. Can’t believe I get to have you again.”

You curved your back again, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor, your body craving the release that was so close. His hand on your clit moved in time with his hips, each touch sending you spiraling higher.

“I can’t hold on much longer,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a breathless whimper.

“Then let go,” Rafe growled, his fingers pressing harder against your clit. “Cum for me, baby. I want to feel you.”

You groaned, “I want to see you when I do.”

Before he could answer, you pulled away from him, making him groan in response, but you shut him up as you turned to face him, dragging your shorts and panties out of the way, not looking where you threw them as you quickly lifted your body and settled over his, hands pressed to his naked chest as you rubbed yourself against him.

Rafe's hands gripped your hips firmly as you positioned yourself above him, “You trying to kill me, pretty Maybank?”

You smirked, leaning down to press a quick peck against his lips, “Yeah.”

Without any warning, you lowered yourself onto him, both gasping at the sensation of being joined once again. He filled you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way, his tip touching your cervix. Your movements were slow at first, savoring all of him, every sensation that rippled from end to end of your body. But soon, the slow burn of desire ignited into a raging inferno, and you found yourself moving faster, chasing that peak of pleasure one more time.

“Get this fucking thing off,” He growled, pulling at your shirt. You would’ve found it funny if you weren’t so desperate to feel him.

You sat up, quickly tugging the shirt over your head and tossing it aside. Rafe's eyes darkened with lust as he took in your bare chest, his hands immediately finding your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that made you gasp and arch into his touch. You started to move again, lifting yourself up before sinking back down onto him, each movement sending waves of desire through both of you.

A filthy kiss followed, all spit and tongues tangling messily as if trying to devour each other whole. The taste of him filled your mouth, a heady mixture of the cigarettes and toothpaste, his moans mingling with yours. The kiss was a brutal assault, his teeth nipping at your lips, drawing blood, which only seemed to fuel the frenzied rhythm of your body. Rafe's grip on your hips tightened, guiding your movements, and encouraging you to take him deeper, pounding into you, abs flexing.

You leaned forward, your hands bracing against his sturdy chest, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper inside you. The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, your cries, and the rhythmic, filthy, slap of skin against skin.

“Fuck, this pussy can’t be real,” Rafe groaned, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race. “Ride me harder, baby. Wanna watch you.”

You increased your pace, the friction and fullness driving you closer to the edge with each thrust. His hands moved from your hips to your waist, holding you steady as you moved, his touch grounding you even as you felt like you were about to come apart at the seams. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing it in tight, precise circles that had you crying out his name.

“Oh god, Rafe, I’m so close,” you panted, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your release, wanting to savor every second of this moment.

“Cum for me, pretty,” he urged his voice rough and filled with need. “I want to feel you cum all over my cock.”

That was all it took. With a loud moan, you came, your body convulsing around him, your nails digging into his chest as the phases of your pleasure crashed over you. Rafe watched you, his expression one of pure awe and desire, his hands never leaving your body, grounding you through your orgasm. As your climax subsided, your breathing ragged and your limbs trembling, he gently kissed your temple, his lips soft and tender. He murmured soothing words, his voice a sexy whisper that sent shivers down your spine. You felt his heartbeat, steady and strong against your own racing pulse, a reminder of the connection between you. His fingers traced lazy circles on your back, calming you, bringing you back to earth.

But as the waves subsided, you became acutely aware of Rafe's cock still hard and throbbing inside you. His breath was ragged, his eyes void of any color, and you knew he was on the brink. You lifted yourself slightly, feeling him slip almost out of you before you sank back down, taking him deep again, despite the way your thighs burned, the way your hole ached.

"Rafe," you called, "I want to feel you cum inside me."

His grip on you tightened, his eyes briefly closing as a guttural moan escaped his lips. He released you for a moment, only to bring his hand down sharply, delivering a stinging smack to your ass, "Watch your fucking mouth.”

The sudden impact made you gasp, the pain amplifying your desire.

Rafe's eyes snapped open, dark and intense as he watched your reaction. "You like that, don't you?" he growled, "Look at you."

You could only nod, breathless and aching for more. His hands returned to your hips, guiding your movements with a renewed urgency. The sting from the slap lingered, a delicious reminder of his dominance, the only place you'd let him take the lead.

You started to move again, your pace slow and deliberate, your movements designed to drive him wild. Each time you sank onto him, you could feel him throbbing, his control slipping with every passing second. His hands roamed over your body, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he tried to hold on.

"Please, baby," you whined, "I need to feel you cum."

The pet name did it. His response was immediate. With a growl, he shifted, flipping you onto your back and pinning you beneath him.

The sudden change made you gasp, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he drove into you with a powerful thrust. His pace was relentless, his movements fueled by a desperate need to reach his release. His face was a mask of intense concentration, his jaw clenched as he pounded into you. The sounds of your “oh’s” mixed with his grunts, creating a symphony of raw passion. You could feel the tension coiling inside him, the way his body strained against yours, every muscle taut with anticipation.

"Gonna fill you up,” he grounded out, his voice strained, "So fucking close."

You tightened your legs around him, pulling him deeper, your nails raking down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. "Cum for me, baby," you urged, your desire reigniting at the thought of him finding his release, “Need you so bad.”

His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours with a feral intensity. "You want my cum?" he growled, thrusting harder, making you cry out in pleasure. "Beg for it."

"Please, Rafe," you gasped, feeling the pressure building inside you, "Fill me up. I need it. I need you."

With a final, powerful thrust, Rafe's body stiffened, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he let out a hoarse cry. You felt the hot rush of his release, the pulsing of his cock as he emptied himself inside you. His entire body trembled, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he rode out his orgasm. You could feel him pulsing, the warmth flooding you as he let out a primal growl, his grip on you almost bruising. And right there, another orgasm ripped through you, your body tightening around him as you cried out his name.

You held him close, your hands running soothingly over his back, feeling the ridges of the muscles you had just marked with your nails. your own body still buzzing with the aftermath of your pleasure. When he finally lifted his head, his eyes met yours, a look of pure adoration in his gaze that rendered you speechless. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss, his touch kind and reverent.

He cradled your face in his hands. "We’re gonna be okay," his breath felt warm against your lips. The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten with emotion.

Tears welled up in your eyes as Rafe's lips touched yours again, the faint tender kiss a stark contrast to the man you used to know. You tried to hold back, to keep the overwhelming tide at bay, but the dam broke, and a sob escaped your lips.

He pulled back slightly, concern etched across his pretty features. "Hey," he murmured, his thumb brushing away the tears that spilled down your cheeks. "What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head, "No, it’s not that," your voice trembled, “I’m scared.”

Rafe's expression softened, thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. "Shh, it's okay," he soothed his voice a comforting balm to your frayed nerves. "Let it out, baby. I’m right here."

You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his skin. The warmth of his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the gentle strength of his hold were the only thing keeping you together at this point and if you didn’t feel so much, you’d feel pathetic for relying so much on someone else. He held you tightly, his hand stroking your hair as you cried, releasing the pent-up fear and anxiety.

"We—I, I don’t know what I’m doing," you admitted through your tears, your voice muffled against his chest. "I’m really, really scared.”

Rafe kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering in a gesture of reassurance. "I know, Maybank," he whispered, his voice steady and unwavering. "I’m scared too.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. "You are?" you asked, almost in disbelief.

He nodded, his attention never wavering from features.

"Yeah, I am. This...And—don’t know what I’m doing either. But I want it. I want you."

“But it’s wrong.”

“I know, pretty.”

He pulled out slowly, both of you hissing at the sensitivity. Rolling onto his side, he gathered you into his arms, holding you close. You nestled against his chest.

“I’m sorry for jumping out the window,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his skin, “You just...make me so angry.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers running through your hair in soothing strokes. "I shouldn’t have locked you in.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the last of your tears dry against his skin. The comfort of his embrace, his steady presence, was grounding you. You knew things wouldn’t be easy, but his reassurance gave you strength. After a while, Rafe shifted slightly, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze.

"We’ll figure this out, Maybank.”

“Promise?”

He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly. Promises weren’t something he was used to making, you knew that. But then he nodded.

“Promise.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron (by @itneverendshere)

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pedroscurls · 1 day ago

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We all know Hugh HATES to be late at events/dinner or people who are..but what if his girl is a little needy 🥵 and "nervous" 😩 about what to wear?

late to the party (one-shot)

summary: possibly already late to ryan and blake's party, hugh becomes just slightly annoyed when you can't decide what to wear... and when he realizes that you're doing it on purpose, he only knows one way to make sure you don't do it again. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader content warning: smut (18+, mdni), quickie, dom!hugh, light spanking, dirty talk, fingering, doggy style (against the wall), unprotected p in v (be safe folks!), creampie (oopsies!), no use of y/n. word count: 1.8k a/n: once again, this one is really late to post so i'm sorry. i'm slowly catching up with all my requests! to the anon that requested this, i hope you enjoyed it! (btw - i'm gonna try something new with these headers moving forward, it takes so long to pick photos and figured just choosing one hugh pic is better lol). as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman.

“Baby, come on. We’re already late,” Hugh calls out, straightening out his tie. He then glances at his watch and when he sees that it’s already past the time that you both needed to be at Ryan and Blake’s house, he grabs his phone to send a text to them.

You’re standing in the closet, dressed in a matching black lace bra and thong. You bite your lower lip at Hugh’s voice; you know he’s always so punctual and hates it when other people – including himself – are late.

“I know! I can’t figure out what to wear.” You can hear Hugh’s footsteps approach you, can hear him let out a quiet sigh of frustration. You have your arms crossed over your chest, a thoughtful look on your features by the time he enters the closet with you. He has his hands in his pockets and when you turn to look over at him, his brows are furrowed together and his lips in a straight line.

“That black one is nice,” he says, nodding his chin to the black dress you’re standing in front of. “Come on, baby. You know I hate being late.”

“Well, we’re already late and I don’t know what to wear.”

He sighs again. “Whatever you decide to wear will look good on you, love. Just put on that black one and let’s go.”

You bite your lower lip and shake your head, turning your back to him as you walk further into the closet to look at the other dresses you have hanging. You can hear the tapping of his foot and you’re trying to hold back the smile on your lips.

“Baby…” He walks after you and reaches for the dress he pointed out. It’s a black dress with subtle floral print, a ruffled square neckline and sheer short sleeves. It has an empire waist that he knows will fit perfectly to each curve as the bottom of your dress flows out. It looks like the length will stop right at your shins and he walks towards you with the dress in hand. “I’ll pick for you. It’s this one.”

When you turn around to face him, you bite your lower lip and look up at him. You see his eyes deviate to your body, a glimmer of desire flashing through his eyes before he remembers that you’re both already late for the party.

“I don’t know about that one though…” you say with a sigh, but the corner of your lips turn upwards and Hugh narrows his eyes.

“Are you–” He hangs the dress back up on the clothesline and then steps closer to you. “Are you doing this on purpose?”

“What? No!”

Hugh narrows his eyes even further and moves a hand to your hip, pushing you further into the closet until your back gently hits the wall. He reaches out with one hand and places it next to your head, leaning down until his nose is touching yours.

“Looks to me like you’re doing this on purpose.”

“I just– I just don’t know what to wear!” you lie, biting the inside of your cheek as you feel the hand on your hip tighten.

“Sounds like you’re lying, baby.” Hugh brushes his lips against yours, hearing your breath catch in your throat as you gasp quietly. “If I reach down here,” he whispers, moving his hand from your hip to between your legs, cupping your sex instantly. “And if I feel that you’re wet…” he continues, moving the strip of your thong to the side as he runs the tip of his finger along the length of your sex. “Oh, you are wet. How long have you been wet, huh?”

“Hugh…” you whimper, reaching out to rest your hands on his suit jacket but careful not to wrinkle the clothes he’s wearing. After all, you both still need to attend Ryan and Blake’s party.

“So, let me ask again… Did you intentionally make us late?”

You shake your head and he clicks his tongue, thrusting two fingers deep inside of you. Your arousal makes it easy for him to push his digits into your tight heat and when he feels you about to grip onto his suit jacket, he uses his free hand and grips your wrists in one hand, gently placing them above your head.

“Oh baby,” he growls. “Don’t lie to me.” Hugh pushes his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace, knowing that it won’t take long for you to reach your climax, but just as he feels your walls begin to clench, he pulls his hand away.

“Okay!” you exclaim, trying to squirm against him, hips pushing forward and off the wall to chase his fingers. “I did it on purpose… I saw you in that suit and I just– I need you. I knew that the only way I could get what I need was if I made us late and–”

Hugh growls and releases your hands to grip your hips, roughly turning you around. He watches you place your hands on the wall in front of you, bracing yourself once he pulls your hips closer to him. You can hear him undo his belt and his zipper. You look over your shoulder to watch him drop his suit pants and boxer briefs down his legs.

He tugs your thong down your legs and you gasp, feeling his warm and leaking tip press against your opening.

“Hugh, wait, I–” He pushes his hips forward, filling you to the brim in one thrust. He’s so deep that it literally takes your breath away. You gasp, feeling him pull out to his tip until he thrusts back into you.

“This what you wanted?” Hugh growls, using one hand to grip your hip tightly as he brings his other hand down to connect with your backside. It leaves a red imprint, the sound of the spank echoing throughout the closet. It catches you off guard and your walls clench at the sensation.

“Y– Yes!” you answer, pushing back against him as he delivers another sharp slap to your ass. He lets out a loud groan, ceasing his movements only to watch you push back against him. He looks down at your bodies, the sight of his glistening manhood appearing and disappearing with each of your movements.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans. “That’s it, take what you need…” Hugh releases his hold on your hip to hold the bottom of his dress shirt and tie upwards and away from where you’re both connected. He certainly doesn’t want to have to change, especially since you’re both already so late.

Hugh feels your walls begin to clench around him, your walls sliding along every inch of his throbbing length. He pushes his hips forward, feeling himself delve even deeper within your depths.

“Hugh! Oh god– I’m close,” you gasp, bracing your hands on the wall as Hugh grips your hip with his free hand and begins to slam into you repeatedly. You can feel each vein on his manhood, can feel him throbbing within your depths and it only urges you closer and closer to reach your high.

“My naughty girl,” Hugh groans, the sounds of skin slapping against one another mixes in with your continuous moans. He shuts his eyes, your walls continuing to tremble and clench around him. His thrusts become more erratic as he feels the tightness build in the pit of his stomach.

“Gonna fill you up,” Hugh growls, delivering another slap across your ass. “Gonna have me dripping out of you the entire fucking night.”

“Hugh!” you push back against him roughly, your walls clenching around him as your walls tremble. You’re so wet, and already so sensitive as you reach your orgasm.

Hugh groans, picking up the pace with his thrusts until he slams into you with a loud grunt. He paints your walls with his release, hips stuttering. You can feel his come fill you up and when he does pull out slowly, you look down between your legs and see thick drops of his spend trickle down your legs.

Hugh licks his lower lip and looks down, a broad smirk lining his lips. “You gonna put on that dress now?”

“Can you give me a minute?” you ask, turning to look over your shoulder with a small smile.

“Oh, I’ve given you plenty.”

You let out a quiet giggle and then watch him tuck himself back into his pants as he makes himself presentable again. You watch his eyes deviate between your legs before he leaves the closer only to come back with a wet and warm towel to wipe the release from between your legs.

Hugh then helps slide your thong back up your body and you bite your lower lip when you turn around to face him. You can feel him so deep inside of you and it makes you smile, almost makes you yearn for another round with him but you know that you should really be getting to Ryan and Blake’s party.

You grab the same dress he had picked out for you and slide it on, turning around so that Hugh can zip you up. Once he does, he places a gentle kiss on the side of your neck and looks at you from top to bottom.

“Beautiful,” he smiles.

“I’m gonna be feeling you all night,” you admit.

“Good, and just so we’re both clear,” Hugh says, gently gripping your chin as he looks into your eyes. “Your punishment isn’t over.”

“Punishment?” you clear your throat, excitement bubbling in your chest.

“Oh yeah,” he grins. “You’re not going to get away with making us late that easily.”

“Can we– Can we skip the party and just get straight into it?”

Hugh narrows his eyes. “Such a naughty girl,” he growls.

“Is that a yes?”

“No,” Hugh chuckles. “Now, let’s go. Consider having to wait as part of your punishment.”

“Yes, sir.” you respond, biting your lip.

Hugh growls and releases his hold on your chin as he takes a step back to look at you from top to bottom. “If we don’t leave now, I’m going to throw you over my knee and–”

“Okay!” you interrupt, squeezing your legs together. “Let’s go before I tie you to the bed.” You don’t give him a chance to respond because you’re already walking out of the closet.

Hugh chuckles and shakes his head, pulling his phone out of his pocket to see a response from Ryan who had replied to tell him that the party wasn’t going to start for another hour. Hugh shakes his head and runs out after you, seeing you with a knowing smirk on your lips.

“Oh, you planned all of this.” Hugh points out.

You nod and then reach out to gently grip the end of his tie. “Do you really think I’d make us late for the party, Hugh?”

“On the bed. Now.”

“But what if we’re late–”

“We have an hour,” Hugh growls. “And I ain’t done with you yet.”

---

forever taglist: @haytchee @wolverigrl

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman fanfiction #real person fic #real person fiction #rpf #hugh jackman requests #hugh jackman oneshot #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x fem!reader #hugh jackman x f!reader #hugh jackman x female reader #story: late to the party

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retroaria · 1 day ago

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hiiii >.< i saw ur event and RAN to make a request... could i request the dialogue “I do love you, you know…even if i’m shit at showing it.” with rinnie (i wouldve chosen him even if u didnt ask for it because it fits him SO well and i love him dearly) with a fem reader?? i hope i understood everything right and thank u in advance!!!!! take care (⁠ ⁠/⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠)⁠/⁠♪⁠♪

yaaaay rin brainrot!!! thank you sm for requesting!! :)

⋆.˚⟡ Rin Itoshi x fem!reader ⋆.˚⟡

a/n: so many people requested this one! this is very soft and fluffy, i hope you all enjoy :)

˗ˏˋ written for aria’s 1.5k follower event! ˎˊ˗

“Do I remind him? I feel like I shouldn’t have to but I also feel like he just isn’t the type to care about superficial things so maybe I should just-” you were cut off by a rather striking groan on the other end of the line.

“For the love of god, just tell him! He probably doesn’t even know it’s something you’d get so worked up about.” your best friend protested to you over the phone. “What’s the worst that’ll happen? If he feels bad then good, he should be a better boyfriend. And if he gets mad then RUN!”

“Oh my god you’re so dramatic, neither of those will happen. We’re both off today so I’m not gonna say anything, I just want to enjoy my day with him and not make it a big deal.” you sighed out, trying to be content despite the subtle stab to your heart. “I’ll text you later ok? Byeee!”

As soon as you hung up the phone you found yourself prancing out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, your eyes falling on the subtly slouched figure of your boyfriend standing over the kitchen counter. He was making a smoothie as he does every morning - strawberry, banana, protein powder - average boring Rin activities, unfortunately not appropriate for today’s occasion.

You’ve skillfully avoided much interaction with him since you both got out of bed, and at this moment you realized you aren’t sure if you could enter a normal conversation with him in your frantic state. Instead of blurting out the first thing that came to your mind which was, “TODAY IS KIND OF OUR ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY AND YOU TOTALLY HAVEN’T SAID ANYTHING ABOUT IT SO I FEEL LIKE MAYBE YOU HATE ME!”, you decided to go with something casual, so you say, “Mmm, protein powder”

“What…?” Rin turns around to face you and raises his eyebrow at you, looking more concerned than confused. It quickly dawned upon you that you were in fact not looking or sounding cool, calm and collected right now.

“It uh…looks like a yummy smoothie!” you hoped deep down that your girlish charms could save you from deepening the awkwardness of an awkward situation with the most awkward guy you know. You twirl around on your feet a bit with your hands behind your back, flashing him a warm smile.

“Are you having a stroke?” Rin asks, and he’s being fully serious by the way. Was everything impossible with this guy? You begin to ask yourself how you’ve managed to survive a full year of his cluelessness, but then you remember you should probably respond before he actually thinks you’re having a stroke.

“No Rin I’m not having a stroke I'm just trying to start a conversation, jeez.” you snap at him with an attitude that must’ve come from the punch of him not falling for your attempt at cute girlie gestures. Rin sighs and turns his attention back to the blender. Great, now you’re sitting in the kitchen with him in silence except the blender is obnoxiously loud which somehow makes it all the more awkward. Finally it stops and he pours the smoothie out into two cups, setting one down on the table in front of you as he leans back against the counter with his in hand.

Two cups? He never does that. Is this his way of showing he remembered? Is this one of many sweet little gestures he’ll deliver to you throughout the day before the big anniversary surprise? Your wishful thinking is practically bulldozed as Rin opens his mouth.

“There’s something wrong and you aren’t telling me.” he states, his deadpan expression felt like it was slicing you up into little pieces. Rin knew you well enough to know that you were holding out on him, and he was having a silent little panic attack of his own at the moment.

“Nope! Nothing, what could possibly be wrong?” you said nervously. A part of you knew that you could hide your feelings better than this, but the thought that he might pickup on your feelings and somehow read your mind kept you on your toes.

“Was I supposed to take you somewhere today?” he asks, tilting his head at you slightly.

“Like I said, it’s nothing!” you chuckle, it’s a weird chuckle though, definitely not soothing Rin’s worries at all.

He flashes you an odd look, his eyes are narrowed and he’s pouting slightly, almost like he literally is trying to read your mind. He chugs the rest of his smoothie and makes his way over to you. His expression turns back to his usual plain face and he lifts your chin slightly before placing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I’m going to the gym ok? I’ll be back in a few hours and then we can hang out, I promise.” he coos at you before grabbing his jacket and heading out the door.

He left before giving you anymore time to embarrass yourself with your incomprehensible ramblings - he’s a smart boy. That sweet moment coupled with the promise of quality time together was almost enough to make you forget whatever grudge you were holding against him. However, it wasn’t enough to fight off how shitty it feels to not have your boyfriend there on your anniversary.

You spent the next two hours frantically preparing yourself for Rin’s return. Rin spent the next two hours not going to the gym and driving around aimlessly because he totally lied about that as an excuse to think of a way to make it up to you. While he was blending his smoothie before, he let his eyes wander to the calendar you had hanging on your fridge door - today’s date was highlighted with little green heart. The pieces clicked in his head rather quickly, and instead of speaking up and saving you from your nervous ramblings, he took the opportunity to think up a surprise.

Rin is awful at surprises, not to mention he also isn’t the most creative guy. He ultimately decided it was pointless for him to think so hard about it when he could just go home and apologize. He swallowed his pride and stopped at a flower shop before making his way back, after all, who better to help him decide how the day should be spent than his partner in crime - you!

By the time you heard the front door of your apartment open you were barely half dressed and still losing your mind a bit. Somehow Rin’s two hour gym session turned into forty five minutes and your anxiety was at an all time high. You threw on the closest pieces of clothing you could find and walked out of your bedroom to see him standing in the hallway with a bouquet of flowers and a rather pouty look on his face.

“Hey…so uh, I saw the calendar before…I know I kind of forgot about our anniversary…and uh…I'm really sorry.” he said as he held the bouquet out towards you. His hand rubbed the back of his neck as he avoided your gaze. You took the flowers from his hands and let out a sigh of relief.

“I was so worried all morning you wouldn’t remember.” you said as you smelled the flowers with a content smile on your face.

“I was so worried you were going to kill me for forgetting.” Rin looked down at you, his pout still lingering as he relaxed a bit, seeing you weren’t so upset with him. “This is just the first year you know, I’ll have like fifty more chances to remember after this.” he chuckled.

“You think we’ll be together for that long?” your eyes widened and you beamed up at him.

“probably.” he said slyly, taking the bouquet from your hands and setting it on the table. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against him, his hands moving up to cup your face softly. “I do love you, you know…even if I'm shit at showing it.”

“I know, I love you too.” you cooed at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tender kiss.

dividers by: @toastray

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ohno-the-sun · 3 days ago

Note

Oh uh forgot to ask in the previous ask (the one with the digital piece of candy and scurrying and stuff)

How do you draw art so good

Is there a method you use or is that just the style you've gotten over time?

you've activated my trap card

I'm just gonna preface that this tutorial is from someone who was not professionally trained and didn't have a lot of free time for art, so a lot of the tips I have is short cuts I use to get the best results quickly

If you genuinely want to get better at art then please look at references and practice that is always the best

However if you are like me and only really do art for fun but want to go faster then these are for you pfppt

Overall I'd say my style is influenced by speedpaints I would watch when I was younger, I like analyzing how people do things and what makes something look "good" to me

I always recommend watching them because they will often have techniques you've never seen before or do things a certain way that you can try out yourself

I consume good art, it feeds me

but seriously it can be super helpful when developing your own methodology, or just generally trying something new

Usually it starts with me pulling some references from artists I really admire and sort of sketching out how they do the things I like

For example 8um8le has like super good anatomy and poses so I focused on trying to replicate how they do that

venemous-qwille is super good at color and pulling focus so that's what I focused on in my study of them

In general I'd say my process is sketch -> silhouette -> color -> shading -> render

I really don't like doing lineart lol

I'd say for the sketch the most important part is using references and just kind of fudging it until it looks correct anatomically/physically

General rule of thumb is spend time on areas of interest, and keep non important areas light (like the stitching on his pants)

I don't do lineart because I think its unnecessary for most paintings I do

I naturally tend to put more time and focus on areas of interest (like hands and feet) and if you use a brush with opacity for the sketch, those areas are naturally going to be darker in the final sketch

Of course this is gonna be different for everyone but it's what works for me

Sometimes I do a really really sketchy layer underneath my sketch/lineart, just so I know where everything is going

Use thumbnails! They are great to help figure out the general layout of things and what pose I wanna do

Next is what I call the "silhouette" layer

This is super important for me cause it helps me refine the figure and make sure the pose/anatomy looks correct, also depending on what color I choose for the silhouette helps guide what colors I'm going to use on top

This piece is a good example of how it works. The silhouette shows me how the figure interacts with the background, how the pose looks and if its any good

The silhouette layer doesn't have to be super clean, as long as it follows the sketch decently well and shows where the figure is then its fine

I also sometimes make the silhouette layer multiple colors to help guide shading and vibe

Next is the coloring layer. I usually make this a clipping layer on top of the silhouette layer, or I change the silhouette layer to alpha lock, either way it saves me time on coloring everything in

Sometimes I am super rough with the coloring too, using like an airbrush or my fav watercolor brush just to generically block in color where I want it

Works out cause most objects have like a bounce light to them from surrounding objects, so this is sort of a cheat I use to get that effect without all the work lol

Also don't be afraid to have the lower silhouette layer shining through, having multiple colors sort of subtly shining through the piece helps lots

Next is the shading layer, this is usually another clipping layer, usually set to "multiply"

The colors I pick here is usually within this range, any color works, just depends on the piece and vibes.

Since this piece is set in a sunset forest I choose a more desaturated orange for the shading layer

I know there's a whole thing about multiply layer being a crutch (and it kind of it) but it is a useful tool when you just want some darker values across the piece but don't want to go through the process of color picking every single darker shade

Also in my opinion it looks better than picking a darker color and setting it to a lower opacity, idk I just think the color has more "depth"

Next is the hardest to explain, sort of the vibes layer

Usually its just a layer of more concentrated color on top of the normal color and I fudge with the settings and values until I get a result I like

Next is the longest step, is the "extra" or the render stage.

Usually I add a background before this step so that if I need to merge the figure better with the background I can

If I render with a white background but he's supposed to be in a dark forest, its going to mess with the lighting severely

Also this is when I add more "vibe" layers on top to get the figure to match the background better

Backgrounds in general I recommend checking out @/derekdomnicdsouza on instagram he's got lots of great tutorials for breaking down backgrounds simply

I'd say general rule for the rendering layer is to focus on the areas of interest and spend less time on areas you don't care about

I even blur stuff out on the edges I don't want people to see, partially to save time on fixing mistakes in areas I dont care about (oop), but mainly to help draw the eye to the areas I do want people to focus on

Theoretically parts of the background should like mesh with the characters, parrallel lines are a no no unless they are directing a viewer to look somewhere, things that are perpendicular help bring things together

tbh I'm still not the best at layout and probably need more practice, but overall this is what I like doing

Overall this is what my layer set up ends up being

Sort of a sandwich with the lineart/sketch as the "meat" lol

Color and basic shading below the sketch, clean-up and rendering on top

I like this method cause it's super flexible if I ever want to try something different or try to replicate someone's style

I can make each step less or more messy depending on the end result and can add a lineart layer if need be. Also if there's a part that is straight up not working or needs to be removed its super easy to do cause I can just paint over it on the "extras" layer, color picking from the surrounding area to get the same vibe

Generally rule of thumb for my style is: get the initial layout of colors, form and shading to look good, then the rendering should be smooth sailing

Really the best advice I can give to get better at art is to enjoy what you're doing and become very very obsessed with drawing a silly little guy

You'll eventually get very good at drawing them pfptpf

#sundrop #moondrop #long post #art tutorial #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #I draw them way too much holy guac #ask #this is for you asker #idk if anyone else is interested in this kind of stuff #i apologize for ranting lol #also me struggling to spell silhouette like 15 times

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itachiiwrites · 2 days ago

Text

𖹭 𝕯𝖊𝖆𝖗 𝕯𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖞

𖹭 Synopsis— A random act of kindness was all it took for you to be infatuated with Gojo Satoru, what about him?

𖹭 Dear Diary Archives.

A/N: this is my first time writing a long fic idk what this is but it's something? Let's see how it goes. Divider by @/cafekitsune

𖹭 CW. This story will content dark elements, hence it's 18+. It includes: Murder, Gore, obsessive themes, stalking, suuuuperrr unhealthy behaviours, everyone is insane, the reader is not a healthy person, or exactly a good person for that matter. There are other warnings too but i forgot, gojo satoru is his own warning

𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝟎𝟏. 𝑾𝒉𝒚?

All your life, there was an absurd kind of thirst present in your body. You could never pinpoint what exactly it was, what drove you menselessly crazy, made you deranged.

It was hard to put the pieces of the puzzle together, blaming your moldable brain areas for not being able to figure out what was wrong with you. What was wrong with you that the girls in kindergarten wouldn't want to play house, inclusive of you? The question of why was so predominantly present in your vocabulary that it presented itself in your mind even as no curiosity to seek answers to was present. The answer was always the same anyway.

'We don't like you because you're a freak.'

Creep. Freak. Oddball. Psycho.

If you didn't know you had an actual name, you'd be convinced that these were your real names with how often you were labelled that. It wasn't like you didn't have any friends, there were friends present but their presence felt as if it existed only because there was some pity.

Not for Gojo Satoru, however.

The first time you talked to him it was near a cheap, a little worn, worm eaten walled—candy shop. The purpose of going there was to pass time, having nothing better to do when all people would do in your class was draw vile things on your desk, how childish. If they had the balls they should tell you those seemingly outrageous incentives on your face, but it didn't matter because you had found your reason for being.

Was he fucking stupid? Offering you one of his sickly sweet candies? Couldn't he tell what you were already?

"Your eyes are gonna fall off if you keep looking at me like that, miss girl" What an infectious laugh. How cute.

"Come on, take it, I'm doing this only 'cause I have an extra" The boy with the white hair sighed and groaned at how stupidly frozen you were in your spot—making the effort to wrap the chocolate bar in your fist, his cold, clammy hands made you wince. He walked away before you could even get out a spur of a word— away with a casual wave of his abnormally large hand.

At first all you could do was stare at the chocolate bar that he handed you, taking a soft sniff to make out a tiny hint of his scent. There was nothing, all blank, as if he didn't exist, as if he was a figment of your imagination.

That chocolate was placed onto your table, tucked between your trinkets like a souvenir. Because it was, it was a reminder that someone made an effort to give you this diabetically sweet chocolate, just because he could. You didn't even dare to open it.

Frequent visits around the same crippling shop lead you to the information that his name was Gojo Satoru, an 18 year old student at Jujutsu Tech, a religious school.

And with a name in your hand, everything was in reach with internet at disposal.

Checking his myspace became a ritual. Satoru was a social person because.. Ofcourse he was. This was your only gateway to him for now but the desperation to know more was catching up.

He was beautiful.

You found him absolutely captivating, a sight that made your heart race with an intense langour.

The more you looked at him the more his beauty became ethereal, a vision that awakened something so grotesque within, it scared you.

Each feature of his face, every move he made no matter how ridiculous it was to others, fueled your obsession further until it was all-consuming. In his very presence that you never came too close to, you felt an overwhelming need to possess him completely, to have him all to yourself. His beauty was like gasoline to your raging flame of yearning, making your desire grow exponentially. For him.

This love of yours made you question yourself, it was idiotic to be in love with someone so unreachable, someone so beautiful. But an idiot is never complete without their mindless optimism for the better.

And you, were truly an idiot.

The way your heart dropped to your guts and your body manoeuvred nausea as if it was the only thing it knew. Seeing an equally beautiful man holding his hand, looking at him with the same longing in his eyes, the one that leveled yours. The pain was shrill, piercing, tinnitus and unbearable.

He wasn't yours.

The walls of your room that were plastered with his face all over felt smaller, it was getting hard to breath. Something simple like air came so difficult, with emotions risen like a tempest making your chest incredibly tight.

He had to be yours. He was yours.

The question of 'why' was up yet again, but this time with burn in your throat so harsh that it felt lacerated and while a thousand knvies gauched into your heart.

Why. Why. Why.

Only one of all the why's you've had in your existence, this was the one you could answer.

A knife like that from him felt bearable enough.

He had to be yours.

Taglist (Open :D) @rinachains

#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x you #gojo satoru x female reader #gojo satoru fanfic #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #satoru gojo #satoru gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #divider by cafekitsune

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aboutcustardcreams · 18 hours ago

Text

Wake up call

pt. 1

a/n: I'm not going to follow the series episode by episode, as I already mentioned. This story will focus primarily on the three witches' story, so I'll probably jump forward and back in time at my own discretion from now on. If you're curious about something in particular, feel free to tell me in the comments. Would you prefer that I go back or forward from now on? (also, sorry for eventual typos or mistakes).

pt. 2

Agatha looked as surprised as you for a moment. The boy was on his knees, squirming uncomfortably at the rope around his wrists and ankles. He said something, his voice sounded muffled through the duct tape.

“Oh, uhm.. well, I may have accidentally kidnapped him.”

You blinked in disbelief, “How can you accidentally kidnap someone?”

The kid muttered something else you couldn’t quite comprehend. You thought it was his way to agree with you, so you grinned, whereas Agatha groaned in annoyance. As the boy persisted, you realized what he really wanted from you.

“Oh–”, you mouthed a quick apology, lips stretching in an awkward smile as you took the tape off his mouth with a quick puck. He winced, but then muttered a ‘thanks’ to you. Had he been locked in there the whole night? Instead of that, you asked a different question, “you alright?”, twirling your finger, you made him turn around to untie the rope around his wrists and ankles.

He sighed and gave you a grateful smile once free, “much better.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, not really sure about what else was to say, despite having tons of questions. There couldn’t be a moment worse than this to have to deal with a kid.

“Agatha, love, care to explain?”

Your lover paid no attention, or rather she feigned to be distracted doing practically nothing more than walking up and down the house, as she mentally freaked out due to the last events.

“There’s nothing to explain–”, she waved dismissively, “For all I care he can keep the house.”

The boy frowned and quite frankly so did you. You walked up to her, confusion written all over your features, “Agatha, what in heaven are you talking about?”

The boy followed behind in silence.

When she suddenly spun around, Agatha was so close, you almost stumbled backwards. “Did you listen to Rio’s words or not?” There was a hint of frustration in her tone, quite relatable in fact, and yet...

Your head lolled to the side, “so your plan is to leave?”

“Glad you’re catching up," she grinned cheekily.

With no magic at her disposal, she had no intention of facing the Salem Seven, and even less letting you anywhere near them to save her life. So running was the best and only option she could think of at the moment; that hopefully would give her enough time to figure out a way to restore her magic and be a witch again.

You ran a hand through your hair, eyes glancing only briefly over the boy, who gave you a tight smile in return. A part of you wondered what he was doing still there. Didn't he have places to be, like school or whatever?

Before Agatha could walk from you again, you reached out to grab her wrist, “So, this is what we will do,” you started, silently enjoying the whiny sound slipping from her lips, “we sit down, talk it out like mature adults, and you–” pointing a finger at the boy, “you’re gonna tell me why you broke into our house in the first place.”

“Uhm.. yeah, I..”

“We don’t have time for this!” Agatha exclaimed, “Need I remind you there’s a price on our heads?”

A playful smirk tugged at your lips and unable to resist teasing her, you quipped, “technically it’s on yours. I only happen to be in your shit as per usual.”

The boy let out a quiet chuckle, that you were about to reciprocate hadn't it been for Agatha’s hand flapping at the nape of your neck, “Oof!" you whined.

Amusement glimmered in her eyes, “You had it coming,” she retorted. Then she glanced over the boy, with a grimace. “Not to be rude or anything, but we’ve got a lot on our plate so if you could just–” She pointed to where the front door used to be, her confidance dimming slightly, “this house is a complete disaster.”

She looked so annoyed right now, tired and scared even, but the latter she would never admit. Completely forgetting about the boy, you focused on Agatha and placed a hand over the small of her back, “it’s not so bad…” you trailed off, resting your chin on her shoulder. She knew you weren't only referring to the conditions of the house. Her eyes fell shut for a moment, her features relaxed when you started stroking her skin, lips barely brushing against a soft spot behind her ear, “we have an excuse to redecorate now.”

Despite everything, Agatha let out a small chuckle. She turned around and draped an arm around your waist. With everything that happened in such a short time, she hadn’t given herself a moment to truly cherish the fact that you were back—the real you. Sure, even without your memories, you stood by Agatha’s side all those years, but having you here now, like in the old days, felt different. It was different. Her eyes darted from your face to your collarbone, nose scrunching up at the sight of the nasty bluish bruise— a reminder of Rio’s hands on you. Her hand glided up to your face, tracing your jawline before slowly moving down to your collarbone, fingers barely grazing your skin, mindful that it was still tender and possibly sore.

“Are you–?”

Your eyes softened at the hesitation in her voice, “you shouldn’t worry about that.”

“I always worry about what matters," she argued back.

"Sappy," you teased.

With an eye roll, she smirked, "brat."

When her eyes darted towards the boy once again, she let out an incredulous scoff, “you better have a darn good reason to still be dangling here.”

Color drained from his face. Quite frankly, Agatha could be intimidating when she tried. Even when she didn't. “I-I do!” He cleared his throat. “I want to walk the Witches' Road. It’s the only reason why I broke in here really and–” he was talking so fast, for a moment you thought your mind had tricked you. There was no way he said the words ‘witches’ and ‘road’ in the same sentence.

Agatha's eyes snapped wide open, “what’s that you say?”

“The Witches’ Road,” he repeated, slower and firmly. It hit you hard. You couldn't help it. “I want you to take me there,” his eyes softened and so did his voice as he added, “please.”

Agatha tried to meet your eyes then, but you had your gaze dropped to the floor.

“The Witches’ Road doesn’t exist.”

“You’re lying,” he argued.

Agatha scoffed bitterly, “am I?”, voice rising in exhasperation.

When you slowly lifted your chin towards the boy, you squinted your eyes so much as if you were troubled by a sudden headache, “You’re asking for a death wish here.”

Agatha agreed, “quite literally.”

The boy looked crestfallen, but he didn’t back down, “You only say that because you think I’m inexperienced, which is fair. I am. But I can make it to the end-”

Your lips pursed in a grimace as you tried to make sense of everything that was happening. First Rio, then the Salem Seven on your heels, and now this boy who had no idea what he was asking for.

“Look, I love your confidence– but the Road is no place for a kid.”

Agatha sank into the couch in the lounge, curling a finger at you in invitation. Smiling, you obliged, perching yourself on the armrest beside her. You were close enough that her hand could slip to rest on your thigh, her fingers tracing soft, lazy patterns over the fabric of your pants. The gentle rhythm of her touch soothed you, and you allowed yourself to calm your nerves, focusing on her proximity and nothing else.

“I’m sixteen,” he objected, taking a seat onto the chair across from you.

“Oh, why didn’t you say that before? That changes… nothing.”

You had to stifle a laugh at her sarcastic remark.

He gave a dramatic eye roll. “Come on! You walked it before and survived!”

Your brows knitted in a frown. Just how much did that boy actually understand about you and Agatha? Or rather, how much did he think he understood? No one truly knew what it had been like for the two of you back in the eighteenth century. People clung to their own assumptions, and you let them—after all, the real truth was far too painful to share. Not a single soul knew the true story behind the reputation Agatha had built, nor the reasons why so many had to die in the first place.

Agatha’s hand stilled on your thigh, “I had a very good reason to stay alive, plus I’m exceptional.”

It wasn’t a lie, not completely at least.

The boy’s eyes shifted from Agatha’s to yours. You felt as if he knew what Agatha was talking about you. You saw something, a glimpse of understanding in those eyes that somehow unsettled you. If Agatha was known as ‘witch killer’ for all the wrong reasons, your reputation also preceded you, but you struggled to say the words.

“I read an egregious amount about you two. I’ve been obsessed since I first came up with your Salem days… the way you two met, and oh my God- don’t get me started on your magic skills.”

So you and Agatha had a little fan.

Agatha’s interest rose considerably. She grinned, “cute. Isn't he a cute pet?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure whether to be flattered or freaked out by all this interest,” you mused.

The boy completely ignored the fact that Agatha just called him pet. “Sorry, I just– you’re a necromancer witch!” He was now struggling to keep a posed tone of voice, and you found yourself scratching the back of your head, not really used to being praised by your gift/curse. Quite the opposite in fact. “Guilty as charged,” you quipped.

Agatha’s hand moved towards your knee, thumb brushing in a soothing circle there. You smiled inwardly at the gesture.

“Books say witches your kind are so rare, powerful and–”

“harrowed, banished, burned at the stake?” You cut him off in a sing-song tone.

Agatha snorted, “you name it.”

She knew better than anyone what it felt like to be brushed aside. It was one of the reasons why she could bond with you so easily and so quickly. You understood her before she could even attempt to comprehend the complexity about herself and her power.

Teen blinked confusedly, “I was gonna say interesting.”

You clasped your hands together and took a deep breath. “Look, we appreciate your enthusiasm. You seem like a really smart boy, and I’m sure you’re destined for great things, but we can’t help you, not with that-”

“But I saved Agatha from the spell…” his smile turned into a frown and his features dimmed as a consequence, “I’d have come to you too if she hadn’t locked me up in the closet. But w-wait,” he suddenly came to a halt, eyebrows knitting in a frown as a new question popped up in his mind. “How did you wake up from the hex?”

Agatha knew, but said nothing, leaving the explanations to you.

“It’s hard to explain–” Being a necromancer allowed you to have all sorts of… vibes. Plus your soul was connected to Agatha’s and her life being threatened by something– or rather someone you knew quite well worked as a wake up bell for you, “it’s like a sixth sense, but better. I can always feel when Agatha needs me. I got a pull into reality the moment Rio broke into the house with the purpose of harming her. I felt her aura. She and I– let’s just say our magic work like opposite poles of a magnet.”

Agatha’s features hardened a bit, as she nibbled on the inside of her cheek out of nervousness. Your magic being complementary to Rio’s had caused you more problems than anything else. She almost lost you to her, and that’s something she would probably never forget.

The boy hummed in thought. He was clearly intrigued by your magic and took a mental note to ask you more questions at the first next opportunity, considering he left his notebook in the car.

“And who’s Rio? I didn’t hear much but– there seemed to be a history–”

“Trouble.”

“A bitch.”

Both you and Agatha said in unison.

“We don’t really need to talk about her now…” you kept vague, hoping he would catch the silent message passing through your eyes. Talking about her was never easy, not when your feelings for her were so tangled and conflicting. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love her anymore, cause you still did. And Agatha... well, she probably did too, however, she would never admit it, not to you and even less to herself. The past clung like a shadow, and neither of you could ever truly forget. The ache of Rio's choices lingered, buried deep, a silent reminder of what your bond once was and could never be again.

He pressed his lips together and gave you a slow nod of his head in return.

“I’m curious,” she smacked her lips, your head turned towards her, as she continued, “If you’ve got the goods to break a spell cast by the Scarlet Witch, why do you need the Road?”

Your eyes widened in shock. Was she really considering this?

“The Road promises that what you’re looking for awaits at its end. I need to walk the road so I can figure out the extent of my power..” he explained and she hummed, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Don’t you need power yourself?”

Agatha’s back stiffened, “I most certainly do, yes.”

“She doesn’t need to walk the Witches' Road for that,” you pointed out, glancing at the purple witch with the corner of your eyes.

The boy was confused. Without giving him too much information, you simply told him that you could share your magic. And, in a way, it was true. A more accurate version would have been explaining that Agatha could kill a witch by absorbing all her power, leaving nothing behind but dust. But that was far too dramatic, plus you were still one hundred percent sure she couldn’t and wouldn’t harm you in any way.

She let out a long, exhausted sigh at your insistence, “For the umpteenth time, I’m not taking your magic–”

“Ugh!" You groaned. "Aggs, Rio warned us–”

“She mentioned the Salem Seven, didn’t she?” The boy cut you off. “I’m sorry but y-you’ve got zero chances against them without magic, Agatha.”

She shot him a icy glare, “Thank you for stating the obvious.”

Your lips trembled a bit, as you struggled to hold back an amused grin.

“I’m just trying to understand which alternatives you have,” he muttered defensively.

Agatha opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Nothing that she could use to hush both you and the kid.

“He’s got a point, you know. You need my magic, like right now.”

Once again, she ignored you. “Or maybe, we need to walk the Witches' Road one last time.”

The boy’s mouth parted ajar, “Really?”

“Really?” You echoed in a squeak.

She simply nodded her head, giving you an innocent smile that only fueled your incredulity. You let out a quiet, bitter chuckle right after, at the same time shaking your head in disbelief.

“Agatha, sweetheart, a word?”

You held out your hand for her to take, and just like she did a moment ago, you forced a serene, tranquil smile—one that didn’t quite reach your eyes but would have fooled anyone who didn’t know you better. She took your hand, her fingers curling around yours as she let you lead her toward the kitchen. Once you were far enough from the boy to speak more privately, you locked eyes with Agatha. Your face was practically shouting, ‘What the hell?!’ —a silent message that she heard loud and clear, without a single word spoken.

“The Road doesn’t exist! What’s your plan?”

“We are the only ones aware of that,” she stated matter of factly as if that could be used as a great advantage. “Teen is right, without my magic, I can’t defend myself against the Salem Seven, I can’t protect myself or you.”

If this wasn’t handled carefully, it could spiral into something much worse. You knew, better than anyone, how deeply it hurt Agatha to feel powerless, especially when it came to protecting those she loved. She had faced this agony with Nicky, and now, here she was again, reliving the same fear, this time, for you. Her own life, in that moment, felt like nothing compared to yours. Because without you in it, there was no existence worth living for her.

“You could,” you insisted, in a low, almost pleading tone. “if only you took my power–” It was so easy.

“I’m not willing to take any risks with you,” she stepped into your bubble, her hands tightening around your shoulders, in a possessive and yet still attentive way. She wanted you to understand. She needed you to be on her side on this. “I need to make sure I've got control over my thirst first. It's been so long since the last time I did that so I'm sorry but you’ll not be the lab rat for it.”

“Are you really thinking of using the boy?”

Agatha’s mouth dropped open, “Oh no, my God- no! I’m not talking about Teen, you idiot!”

You crossed your arms over your chest and gave her a defiant look.

She gave in after a bunch of seconds, “Okay, maybe I did think of him for a minute. He did break the Scarlet Witch’s hex, though."

You pinched the bridge of your nose at that.

“But we still need to ‘walk’ the Witches Road, except that this time, we aren’t killing anyone,” you’re ready to argue back again, but she didn’t let you, so you bit your bottom lip instead, trying really hard to see the silver lining behind all this. “Here’s what we will do: we gather a coven, make some female friends, sing the Ballad, it doesn’t work, wowie-!, I call them names, they get angry and blast me. I take their magic and stop right before they turn into dust.”

She paused and took into your eyes, letting you assimilate her words, hopeful you’d find her idea good enough, because there was really no time for anything else.

“So, to recap—,” you cleared your throat, “you’re willing to lie to that kid, to the poor witches we’ll meet along the way, witches who’ll eventually turn against us once they learn our intentions, but you’re not willing to take my magic that’s literally within arm’s length because you’re scared you’ll kill me.”

She hummed, feeling quite satisfied with your summary, “yep.”

A slow smirk spread across your lips, “You’re crazy.”

“Maybe," she conceded. "But this plan’s gonna work.” Agatha shifted closer, her hands sliding to your hips, her fingers pressing into your skin with a slight possessive touch.

Your gaze fell to where her hands rested and for a moment, there was silence.

Time ticked. She waited.

“Fine. Oh my God- fine–”

Before you could say anything else, she pulled you into a crashing hug. Your pout quickly turned into an amused smile, and finally into a fit of giggles when her lips began peppering kisses all over your face.

“Atta girl!” She said with a proud grin, to which you responded with a snort.

You’d be pissed, though, if by the end of the day, you’d be forced to resurrect a bunch of witches. But you kept quiet about that.

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #rio vidal #Teen #agatha harkness x reader #Teen x reader #wlw #Kathryn Hahn #Aubrey Plaza #Joe Locke #marvel #witches #agathario x reader #agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader #agathario

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myown-worstenemy-2003 · 2 days ago

Text

Play It Again, Play It Again, Play It Again

A/N: Part two of the mini-series! As always I hope you enjoy it as much I did writing it! I love seeing feedback! And feel free to request something! Let me know any feedback that you have! If you feel up to it send me a request and I will do my best to give it justice!

Summary: You're invited to a party by one of your new friends. Let's see how the night ends.

Word Count: 1963

It had been a couple of months since you had broke things off with Billy. Since that you've kind of tried to keep to yourself but everyone needs someone to talk to, especially to make it around here.

What made it better was that you met a couple of mothers when you would pick up Rhiannon from daycare, and started your own friend group. All of them were around your age and their kids were already playing with Rhiannon during daycare anyway. Nancy had a brown-eyed shaggy-haired boy named Theodore. Piper had a little curly-head girl named Rosemary. And then there is Robin, she doesn't have any children but she comes and picks up Theo or Rosie every now and then, even both sometimes.

It was nice that you and Rhiannon had some friends in town finally. Especially Rhiannon, you didn't want her to be lonely.

But at this particular moment you weren't sure if you were happy that you had friends anymore.

"Come on (Y/N)! You never leave the house unless it's work or taking Rhiannon somewhere! You need to have fun sometimes!" Robin tried to convince you.

"Yeah, I'm sure I can tell you what you do everyday. Get up, get Rhi and you ready, take her to daycare, go to work, pick up Rhi, have dinner and then go to bed," Nancy said watching the kids play on the playground.

You sigh, because she was right. You don't do anything fun that doesn't surround Rhiannon.

"Who's gonna watch Rhi though? I can't really afford a babysitter right now. I can barely afford daycare as it is."

"Piper's mom is going to watch the kids, I'm sure she won't mind watching Rhiannon," Nancy suggested and Piper nodded.

"I don't know guys," you hesitated, parties have never been your thing. The last time you were at a party that's when Rhiannon was conceived and here you are.

"(Y/N), you are 24. We are never gonna be this young ever again. Just this once and if you don't like it, you can leave and we'll never ask again," Piper chimes in, sitting on the bench next to you with a book on her lap that she hasn't touch since she got here, "We all need to let loose every once and a while."

The girls nodded, you groaned, "Fine. I'll go but only for two hours. That's it."

"That'll work! You'll have fun, I promise!" Robin said excitedly.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You were on your way to the party. Riding with a friend from work. Dressed in something more warm and comfortable than it was cute since #1 it was October and it was cold during the nights; #2 you weren't really looking for anything right now since your thing since Billy. You were just there to hang out with friends and maybe meet some new people.

As you approached you noticed that there were a lot of trucks and some haybales, and everyone else was parked on the other side of the road. You didn't even think about bringing your own chair. You figured that there was going to be enough going on that you might not need it. But past you was too ambitions compared to present you so was full of nervous at the moment.

How the hell did you do this when you were in college?

Jessica put the car into park and got out and you followed suit.

"Hey I'll see you around? Around 1?" Jessica said with a smile. You nodded and smiled back.

You stood outside of the car for a second to catch your breath.

"It's all good. Everything will be okay. Just three hours. Yeah, only three hours and then you can go home," you hyped yourself up. You brushed yourself off (like you had dirt on you) and headed toward the crowd of people gathering around the bonfire.

"There she is! I wasn't sure you were going to show!" Robin said as she walked up to you and hugged you, "Here's the rest of the gang for you to meet!"

"Everyone this is (Y/N)! Be on your best behavior!" she said, jokingly, you heard some laughing and a, 'Booooo'.

"This here is Vickie, she's my girl," Robin introduced you to a ginger with freckles. You shook her hand, "Nice to meet ya."

"You know Nancy," Robin said and you hugged her as she came up. There was a nervous looking man behind her with brown hair, Robin said, "This is her husband, Jonathan. Theo looks like him."

"I can see it," you smiled and shook his hand too. Piper came up next, "I'm so glad that you made it! We want you to have fun too."

"Thanks, it's good so far," you smiled.

"Oh yeah!" she said, she turned to look behind her, "This is my husband, Eddie. It's where Rosie gets the curly hair from."

"Hey there, I'm Eddie, like she said, nice to meet you," Eddie said, he had long wild curly hair with a denim vest over his leather jacket.

"I like your pins. Iron Maiden is the best," you said as you looked at his pins.

Eddie literally beamed, "Thank you! I collect them from music stores. These are my favorites."

"Really cool!"

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Dude, have you met (Y/N)? She's awesome!" Eddie said to Steve.

"Is this another fantasy person that I'm supposed to learn?" Steve asked. Eddie looked at him with a weird face, "No, she's real man. She's friends with Piper and the others. She over there."

Eddie pointed to where a girl was sitting by herself on the tailgate of Piper's truck. Her legs swinging as she watched the fire crackle.

"She's got to have a boyfriend here. No way that she doesn't," Steve said, looking around for someone that was looking for her, "Is she Joe's girlfriend?"

"No man, Piper said that she's single. Not really looking for anything at the moment, just new friends," Eddie explained, "Buuuuut...you should try and make more than friends."

"I can make friends with her," Steve nodded and walked toward you.

"Good job babe," Piper said as she came up next to Eddie and fist bumped him and watched what was about to happen.

Steve walked up, "Hey, this seat taken?"

You looked over to the new voice.

Not going to lie, he's pretty cute.

You smiled, "Not at all," you slid over to make sure that he has enough room to sit.

"My name's Steve," he said as he sat down, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Nice to meet you, I'm (Y/N)," you said smiling.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

God how am I already falling in love with this woman already?

"Honestly, I love new wave music! The Cure is probably my favorite from the bunch as of right now, but that changes from month to month," you said, talking to Steve.

You've been talking to Steve for what felt ten minutes but it's actually been hour. You could do this all night.

"You know, I think that-" Steve started but then a familiar song came on the speakers and you're eyes lit up, and you jumped off the tailgate, cutting him off.

"This is my song! I've been listenin' to the radio all night long, hopin' that it would come on and here it is!"

You hold out your hand, "C'mon, come dance with me."

Before Steve could say anything, you grabbed his hand and dragged him up. He tried keeping up with you but he was too distracted by you to keep up. You had a carefree smile on your face and your body was moving in ways that was very bad for his groin area in public.

As the song came to an end, you kissed him on the cheek, "Thank you for dancin' with me."

"Play it again!" Steve yelled to see if someone could rewind the tape and start it over again so he could gain the courage to ask you out.

You smiled and yelled, "Play it again! Play it again!"

You both laughed and then heard the next song play, looking at each other almost in a trance.

"I-" Steve started to say but you looked down at your watch, "I had a lot of fun tonight Steve but I'm afraid that I have to go."

"Are you sure?" Steve asked, not really wanting you to leave just yet but understanding.

"Yeah, I gotta check on my-" you hesitated, "my pet. She's not used to being alone this late."

"I understand. Let me walk you to your car?" Steve offered.

"I actually rode here with one of my coworkers. So I guess I need to find her."

"I'll help you, who is it?"

"Jessica Cooley," you answered starting to look around for her.

"Jessica? She left already. Left with Matt Hargrave about an hour ago."

"What? You're kiddin'. I guess I'll ask someone else for a ride," you said a little upset.

"I can take you home," Steve offered, really hoping that you would take him up on the offer.

"Are you sure? I don't want to burden you. I can just have Piper or someone take me home," you said hesitant because you didn't know him, but you had a feeling that you could trust him.

"I'm sure. Come on, let's get you home."

You smiled, "Okay thank you."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You were looking out the window, thinking about something to start a conversation but you couldn't think of anything that wouldn't be considered small talk or just bad in general.

That was when Steve turned on the radio and you started singing along to (I've Had) The Time Of My Life.

It didn't take too long to get to your house, maybe three songs if you remember correctly, but for some reason it felt like it was taking a little longer than usual. And you weren't upset by it at all. It had been five songs already and you sang along to every song that had came on the radio.

But it was only when you getting ready to pull on your street was when Steve started to scan the radio, almost frantically.

"This is me," you said and Steve pulled into the driveway and put the car in park.

"Thank you for the ride home, I really appreciate it. I don't have cash on me right now, but I can run in and get some for gas?"

"It's no trouble at all. I don't want money. But if you really want to pay me back, let me take you out on a date?" Steve asked wearing a charming but hopeful smile on his face.

You smiled, "I would like that."

He smiled, "Sounds great, how Friday? Dinner and a movie?"

You nodded your head, "I would love that."

"Cool, let me walk you to the do-," Steve said and just as he said that, your song came on the radio.

"No way! There is no way that this song would play twice in one night!" you exclaimed excitedly.

"Come dance with," you said as you got out of the car. He followed you and started dancing in the headlights.

It was like straight out of a movie. Everything was perfect, the lights, the song, the weather, and you.

As the song started to fade out, you got caught up in the passion of dancing and the feeling of it, you kissed Steve.

It was just like everything else, the kiss was perfect.

When you broke the kiss he looked at you and said, "I'm gonna call the DJ right now and get that song played again right now."

You threw your head back laughing, "Goodnight Steve, thank you for the perfect night."

He smiled, "You took the words right out of my mouth."

#Spotify #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #luke bryan #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction

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