#nothing that i wouldn’t wanna tell you about no
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Duuuude ugh I thought about what it would look like with stepbro!rafe making you cum for the first time cause you told him you’d feel funny sometimes so you’d try to get off but then it felt like you had to pee and you’d stop and the innocence he’d get off on…
-like I can see him at the start of your fucked stepsibling relationship him just liking to grope and fondle you and then one day when he’s stressed he just needs something to smack and rough up so he calls for you “you gonna let me play with my favorite little ass?”
-once he has you over his lap spanking and gripping you while he watches TV, you’re getting wet and tell him you feel funny and never really felt what happened after cause you were scared and so he points out his bulge under your lower tummy “you did that sweet baby. get that empty head working and see if you can figure out what you need” and before you know it he’s helping you grind on his lap, talking you through it, praising and degrading you until you finally feel your first orgasm. “You wanna feel that again, you come to me, I’ll take care of you, princess, but head upstairs, now I gotta show you how to take care of me for being such a good big brother”
warnings: stepcest, spanking, dry humping, reader is 18+
he practically uses your ass like a stress ball, whether squeezing and kneading the fatty flesh or giving it a harsh smack whenever you’re nearby; he just can’t help himself, especially when he was under immense stress. "rafey?" your voice called out, entering his bedroom when you heard him call your name. his hand encircled your wrist, pulling you further into his room, and locked the door.
"what's wrong?" you frowned, noticing the distressed look on his face. "nothing your pretty little head needs to worry about, alright? i'm just stressed, s'all," your stepbrother murmured.
"is there anything i could do to help?"
rafe didn't have to think twice at your question, "mhm, i have a whole lot of stress to relieve. you gonna let me play with my favorite little ass?". his fingers play with the ends of your hair, sensing your hesitation, “c’mon, princess. you wouldn’t want your stepbrother to be stressed, would you?” he faux pouted. you shook your head, "no, i wanna help you if i can.".
"yeah? you're such a good girl. always wanting to make me feel better, huh?" he licked his lips, sitting on the edge of his bed before pulling you to lay across his lap. his hand ran up the back of your thigh to the hem of your oversized shirt, pushing it till it bunched around your waist, revealing your perfectly plump ass.
“missed this sweet little ass,” he groaned, kneading the soft flesh. a small yelp slips from your lips when his large palm harshly lands on your ass, making your body jolt forward.
you could feel the band of his ring leaving an impression on your sensitive skin with each delivered smack. your skin felt hot, the stinging sensation slowly fading into pleasure as he alternated between slapping and massaging your red, swollen ass. you squirm in his lap, your panties soaked and sticking to your cunt. “what’s got you squirming, hm?” rafe teased, his hands gripping your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to see a wet patch seeping through the thin material.
“oh, you like this, huh? i could tell by how much of a mess you’re making, ruining these pretty little pink panties,” he chuckled. “rafe…” you whine, your cunt pulsing with need. he bucks his hip, his bulge pressing against your lower tummy, “feel that? s’all cause of you sweet girl. need you to get that pretty little head working and see if you can tell me what you need.”
“i-i don’t know,” you stammered, “you don’t know? you and i both know that’s a load of shit,” rafe tsks.
"guess i have to show you what you need then, huh?" he chuckles, pulling you up till you're straddling his lap. his hands find your hips, holding them steady as he guides you to rut against his lap. he grins to himself, licking his lips when he hears your breath hitch in your throat as his bulge grinds against your clothed cunt, "feels good, yeah?".
you nod weakly, burying your face into his shoulder, encouraging rafe to push and pull your hips back and forth. you press your face further into his shoulder, muffling the small moans that slip from your lips, "that's it, keep making those sounds. let me hear how good it feels," rafe cooed. his palms slide to your ass, squeezing the flesh hard enough to leave bruises, his own hips bucking to meet each roll of your hips.
a sharp gasp erupts from your throat when your clit bumps where the tip of his cock rests, making your body squirm, and your hips start to roll against his. "there you go, just like that...show me how much of a desperate little slut you are," rafe groans, grinding himself harder against you, matching your rhythm.
"please..." you whine, trying to halt your movements as you feel an unfamiliar tightening in your lower belly. "shh, just let it happen, sweet girl. s'okay, i got you," rafe reassures, his grip on your hips tightening.
rafe buries his face into the side of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin, “c’mon, baby. cum f’me, want you to show me how much you need me.”. you cry out against his shoulder, your cunt clenches around nothing as your orgasm washes over you.
your body slumps forward into his chest, your breath tickling his neck as you pant for air. rafe's thumbs rubbed soothing circles onto your hips, “good girl, you did so good.".
"hey, look at me," he rasps, his hand intertwining in your hair, pulling your head back to make you look at him. "if you ever wanna feel that again, you come to me, understand? i'll take care of you, okay?" he brushed your hair out of your face.
"okay," you whisper, nodding in response. "good...now i gotta show you how to take care of me for being such a good big brother. can you do that for me?" .
#divider by starkeysprincess#rafe prompt ;༊#stepbro!rafe#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron outerbanks#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe obx#rafe cameron
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"15 minutes?" "15 minutes" ~ Luke castellan
Trigger warnings : nothing. Absolutely nothing. It's just pure fluff. And also a teeny tiny bit of angst if you squint. Also 'crystal' is lukes nickname for you.
Inspired by 'Abhi na jao chod kar'
You'd seen the way Luke seemed off for the past few days, yet whenever you went to ask him what was wrong, he'd smile and say that everything was fine.
But today, today was a lot worse and you could tell. He kept zoning out from time to time. During conversations with you, or training some random camper, even during lunch. But you knew that if you asked, he wouldn’t tell you anything. So you decided to wait until next morning. If he decided to tell you what was bothering him, well and good. If not, you're grilling it out of him.
But luckily the ‘grilling it outta him’ part wasn’t necessary. Since while you were sitting at the campfire, talking with a few of your friends, you saw Luke walking in the direction of his cabin. He noticed you looking at him, and with a cock of his head you were walking beside him to the roof of Cabin 11.
None of you said anything for a few moments even after both of you were comfortable on the hard wooden roof. “You wanna say something” Luke said first.
“Somethings on your mind, and its bugging you a lot isn’t it?” You replied.
“No” Luke lied straight through his teeth, making you look at him unimpressed. “Okay yeah fine.”
“Out with it, come on”
“It's nothing. Really. It'll pass”
“I'm sure it will. In the meantime though…”
“I don’t wanna bothe-“
“If you say you don’t wanna bother me with this, I will personally push you off this roof. So spill”
“You're mean. Why am I dating you again?”
“Because im amazing. And don’t try to distract me”
Luke let out a sigh when he realized you weren’t gonna let this go. He looked out at the camp, well the part of it he could see from the point of view on the roof. The campers around the campfire, laughing along, while the Apollo cabin lead a song.
“Ive been having this dream…” he started. “same dream for like, maybe the past 4? 5 days? Every night, same thing. Im…standing on this…beach…” he paused, seemingly trying to remember the exact details of his dream as if it wasn’t the only thing he had been thinking about all day.
“I'm sitting on the sand. You're in the water. Along with Chris, Travis, Connor…all of my siblings….Annabeth's there too. And Percy. Basically everyone important to me at camp.” He continued, making you hum in response.
He takes a deep breath and continues “but then, theres this huge wave, and, everyones gone. So I start shouting your names, looking for all of you, and I keep hearing your voice, screaming for help. All garbled like you're underwater or something. But I never manage to find you… so I keep looking and I find that” He points to the thin bracelet you were wearing he had got you, excuse me stole for you, once you mentioned you liked bracelets. “Just that. Nothing else. No one else”
You knew that Annabeth was one of the most important person to Luke in the whole world, probably even more than you. And no matter how much he acted like he hated his pigs of siblings, he had a huge soft spot for them as well. And Percy, the little boy was like a brother to him. Luke saw himself in Percy, and to him he mattered a lot.
So you weren’t surprised that Luke was afraid of missing the family he had built for himself. “I mean, I know something like this will never happen. But the way we live? It could.” he said after a while, “What if I lose everything?”
“You’re not going to lose everything Luke.” You say, trying to make him believe it. Hey, no ones perfect. Not everyones good at comforting people.
“It certainly feels like I might. What if I just wake up one day, and everyones gone. Im back to how I was at 12 years old. No chris, no Annabeth, no percy, no you. What happens then?”
“You know what the chances are that all three of them leave at the same time? Extremely low. Like maybe 5%. And even if it does, I know that those three are annoying enough that they’ll come back to haunt you and tease you about the extremely dumb decisions you make through the day.”
“Are you trying to make me laugh so that ill stop thinking about this?”
“Im trying, yes. Luke, what WILL you do, if something happened to Annabeth, or chris, or percy?” you asked him.
“I-I don’t know. I wouldn’t like it much to be very honest.”
“No one would. But you see, if something did happen, you'd go on with your life. A little boring maybe. But you'll live. That’s how life works. People come and people go and you try your best to make it out.”
“That sounds an awful lot like something a fortune cookie would say.”
“Im trying ok? I know you're scared Luke. That one day everything you're trying to protect will be taken away from you. But you have to know, that honestly all of them are strong enough to fight their way through Tartarus. And you're always gonna have them. Whenever you need them.”
“What about you? What if I don’t always have you?”
“OH no. You're not getting rid of me that easy. Even deaths not getting you out of this relationship.”
“Don’t say it like that.”
“What? Look you're always gonna have me. Ill even haunt you after I die if you want. Ok?”
“How about you don’t die. Huh? Can you do that for me?” he looked at you half with humor and half you wouldn’t wanna call fear.
“sure. I'll try.”“But what if-“
“You have me. No matter what. Im not going anywhere. You're not alone. And you never will be. Ok?” you reassured him.You're only half sure he believed you, but at least he acted like he did.
“I have you.” He mumbled.
“And you always will. Well unless you want me out of the room. Which lets be honest I wouldn’t leave, probably just to annoy you.” You joked causing him to grin for real, for the first time in days. “Oh thank the gods. I was starting to get scared you'd forgotten how to do that”
“Very funny.” He rolled his eyes good heartedly. Yet he took your hand, which was resting on the wooden roof beside you in his, and held it tightly.
“But in all honesty Princey, you're perfectly capable of fighting through everything alone. You're strong. Not that you're ever gonna need to fight alone. If its not me, its gonna be someone else sitting here.” You said after a few minutes.
“Nah.” Luke said suddenly. “Nope. Its always gonna be you. Nuh uh. Theres not gonna be anyone else sitting here.”
You chuckled, “I said if not when. If by some impossible ungodly chance. I'm not leaving. Not without annoying the heck outta you anyways.”
“You're not that annoying.” Luke said with a touch of humor in his voice.
“Oh really?” you got up in his face, “Really? Really? Dam im gonna have to try harder then” you flick his nose with your free hand.
“Ow.” He rubbed his rubbed his nose without any real pain his voice, “I take back what I said. You're really annoying.”
“No no no no” you waved your finger in front of him, “You said it already, no take backs. Congratutatulations Mr. Castellan, You're stuck with me for life now, since you're the only one who thinks im not annoying. So I have made it my life mission to annoy you to death.”
Luke burst out laughing when you said ‘congratutatulations’. “Congratutatulations? What?” he said in between laughs.
You chuckled along with him, proud of yourself for making him laugh, “Yea. Remember that cake I brought you, when you were made head counsellor?”
Luke thought back for a moment, “That had congratulations written on it?” He started but was confused when you shook your head, “What?”
“It had congratutatulations written on it. You're dyslexic, you couldn’t tell.”
“That’s why you were laughing your butt off?!”
“Yes. Gods I felt so bad for the poor baker that day. He looked so tired, maybe he was dyslexic too. Either way, he was running on 5 cups of coffee so I couldn’t blame the poor guy.”
“How nice of you to do that.”
“Yes yes. Im very nice.”
“Sure honey whatever you say.”
“Hey!” you exclaimed when he started snickering. You looked down at the campfire, seeing how campers were starting to go back to their cabins, “We should get going, no?”
“No.” Luke held on to your hand a little tighter, making you look at him, “You siblings can handle themselves for one night.”
“No I know that. Im more worried about your cabin.” You countered.
“I told Chris to tuck everyone in.”
“Yes, I'm sure the Stolls are gonna listen to him.” You looked at him, unimpressed.
“They wont, but I couldn’t care less. Im staying. Don’t go?” he looked you straight in the eyes.
You huff out a breath, “fine.” Causing Luke to smile, “Its 9. Stay till 10. Then I'll let you go back to the cabin. I promise.” He said and you scooted closer to him, leading him to wrap an arm around you shoulder, bringing you in front of him.
So now, here you were, sitting between Luke’s legs, your back against his chest, while he explained why he was better than fish in all aspects.
“No. im serious. I even have a better breathing rate than fish.”
“How do you know you have better breathing rate than fish?” you asked him.
“Isn’t that what you said once? Or was it Annabeth? That there’s less oxygen in water so fish have to breath a lot more times than we do?” he asked, confused.
“I don’t remember who told you that.”
“Yes. But its true.”
“Alright fine. You're better than fish in one aspect. What about everything else?”
“I look better than fish. I mean, okay they're all colourful and stuff. But seriously. I look better, right?” he looked down and saw you dozing off, “Crystal?”
“Im awake.” You woke up and looked at him.
“Yea, you are. Stay awake. I cant sleep.” He argued.
“You're the worst. What time is it?” You turned Luke’s wrist so you could look at the time on his watch, “Its 10.” You said after you saw the time.
“Till 11?” He asked sheepishly.
“Lu-” you started, but he interrupted you, “You just came here. A little bit longer.” He said in the voice, you couldn’t say no too, so you relented, getting comfortable in your spot again.
You leaned back a little bit more, wrapping Lukes arms around you a little bit tighter when the cool breeze started getting to you.
“You smell nice. New perfume?” Luke asked suddenly. But when you shook your head, he thought back and realized it was one of your old perfume, “Nah nevermind, you’ve used this before.” And you chuckled when he remembered.
“What?” You asked when you noticed him looking at you, the same way he knew would make you weak in the knees. How did he know all your weaknesses?
“What?” he asked in return, “I can look at you. Its not a crime to look at something that’s beautiful.”
“Oh ok. Now I know you're getting tired.” You giggled sleepily.
“Huh?” Luke thought for a few moments in silence. “Hey crystal?” he asked, making you hum in answer. “What makes humans…..humans?”
“Very philosophical. But um….love I guess. Everything is always about love. And when its not. Its about the absence of love.”
“So you…you make me human.” He realized.
“I don’t make you a human. You were a human long before you met me”
“Yes, but when I'm with you, I'm not just surviving. I'm living.”
“Luke?”
“Yes darling?”
“Did you read my book annotations again?”
“NO. I remember things you know?”
“OK cool.”
At this point, you were so tired that even the slightest things were making you giggle.
“She'd laughed. And if he could have bottled the sound up and gotten drunk on it, he would have” he whispered in your ear.
“Are you quoting Kaz Brekker to me?” you asked turning to your side to face him.
“I told you. I remember things. Tell me about your day.”
“I already told you.”
“No. you told me, that you woke up late. Missed breakfast. Got to lunch first. Gobbled everything up. Had archery. 10 bulls eyes outta 12 shots. Then you got to dinner after cleaning the archery range up. Gobbled everything up. Then you went to the bon fire.”
“Yea that’s everything.”
“You really cant expect me to believe that nothing interesting happened all day.”
“Nothing happened. It was a boring day.”
“Nothing happened with you friends? What about the one…um… Rihhana? Something was going on in her life right?”
“Oh yea. Completely forgot about that. You know how she likes Aaron from cabin 6?”
“Mhm”
“Yea so. This girls really a genius. She's been ignoring him for the past few weeks, like shes been trying to get over him. But you know? His ego is crrrrrushed” you rolled the r and laughed. “I love it. I mean he doesn’t deserve her you know?”
“You think no guy deserves your friends.”
“Of course I do. They are literal works of art. They deserve better.”
“Of course.”
“I saw the look on Aarons face when she didn’t even look at him. Boy was devastated. It was hilarious.”
Luke saw your face light up with energy whenever you spilled all the juicy details about whatever was going on at camp.
Sleep long forgotten as you started telling him the whole story about Rihhana and Aaron.Which took around an hour, which meant enough time for you to recharge and forget the fact that you were falling asleep some time ago.
When you finished your daily updates and Luke was done listening attentively and laughing whenever you took to looking back out at the lake.
“Hey crystal?” He tried grabbing your attention, which lead to you humming in response. “Don’t go. Not yet.”
“I'm not going anywhere. But if the harpies eat me alive im gonna make them eat you too. Okay?”
“Okay”
“Oh fault in our stars.”
“No no no no. absolutely not. Were not doing that. Nope nope nope.”
The way he was suddenly panicky over a little books name made you laugh.
“I swear to the gods, I hope no one ever asks me what my favourite sound is.” Luke said after you were done laughing.
You look at him confused, “why? I don’t think describing the waves in the sea is that hard.”
“NO no. see that’s my second favourite sound. If someone asks me what my favourite sound is, how am I supposed to explain your laugh? Huh? A horse that swallowed a bug? A car engine that won't start? The sound someone makes when they eat something spicy?” He rambled on.
“Ok while I'm extremely flattered that my laugh is your favourite sound in the world. Im going to kill you for calling my laugh all of those things.” You turned and glared at him. And the audacity of this man to laugh. Ugh! As if. So you slapped him on the back of his head. Simple.
“Luke whats the time?” You asked him when h ewas finally done laughing, to which he replied that the time was 11 30. “Im sorry the time is what?”
“11:30?” he answered, “you know, every twelve hours when its eleven, theres also a time, mostly after 30 minutes, and that time is called 11:30.” He got slapped on the back of his head again.
“Luke we gotta get back, someone is definitely gonna snitch on us.” You tilted your head up to look at him.
“You say it like we don’t have dirt on everyone who might snitch on us.”
“You make it sound like we’re manipulative people.”
“OK yea, maybe not that. But everyone is probably asleep by now. Stay. Please. I like spending time with you.”
“You always do this.”
“What?”
“That. You say ‘please’ like that. And then I don’t feel like going back.”
“I don’t necessarily see the problem here. I like having you with me.”
“Yes but have you maybe realized that I need my beauty sleep.”
“You cant go.”
“Why not?”
“Because you love me way too much and you would break my heart if you leave” he said dramatically.
“ha ha. Very funny”
“No im serious. I just…its not enough. Let me have you till my hearts content.”
“It's never content.”
He kissed your cheek trying to make you stay. Whenever you opened your mouth to give a good reason why you should leave, he would kiss your cheek making every reason die out. Which lead to him kissing your cheek about 15 times before you relented and got comfortable again.
“15 minutes?”
"15 minutes.”
I don’t think its necessary to say that you guys stayed there way past 15 minutes. You guys stayed on the roof until the sky was getting lighter, at which point Luke suggested you guys go back to your cabin so he wouldn’t have to face the teasing looks he got from his siblings.
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x you#luke castellan fluff#luke castellan fanfiction#pjo luke#i love him so much#i love him#my writing#luke castellan oneshot#creative writing#percyjackson#annabeth chase#connor stoll#travis stoll#chris rodriguez
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I wanna kidnap you when you’re walking home all alone. Tie you up with rope and throw you in the back of my car.
You’ll wake up many many hours later, tied to my bed and feeling all weird and sore in between your legs. Slowly you’ll understand, when I walk back in with my cock fully erect for you, that the warmth between your legs is the first of many, many loads I’m gonna force into your sweet little cunnie.
I’ll slap your face with my thick cock and tell you ‘feeding time’ as I force my cock into your mouth. I’ll hold your hair and you’ll cry around my cock as it violates your throat. I moan as I feel your tongue and throat is so warm and wet for me and I tell you that I’m sorry that I had to abduct you but you just looked so sexy. So slutty. Your little body was too tempting not to pick up and abduct.
I’ll keep forcing my cock into your throat and your tears will mix with your mascara, making you an absolute mess. I’ll slap your face with my hand while you suck my dick and then I’ll pull out of your mouth and rub that spit and drool all over your face. I’ll make sure you look like a fucking mess and I’ll lean in and say ‘that’s what a good dirty fucktoy looks like…’
I take off your clothes as you struggle, uselessly, against me & keep trying to push me off. So I slap you really hard on the side of your head and tell you to stop resisting or I’ll get really angry this time.
There’s a bark to my voice that makes your little cunt start to leak and I notice it, mocking you for being such a filthy slut who loves pain. I slap you hard again and tell you that I’m sorry but you’ll never know freedom again, you’re now my cocksocket forever. Once I strip you down completely, I push your legs back and slap my cock on your cunt, it’s gushing wet from all the abuse but you whimper ‘no, please don’t… please stop I beg of you please…’ but I don’t listen. I slap my cock on your entrance once more and thrust into you and your dumb mouth betrays you, as you moan loud when I slam into you all the way.
I choke you until you can barely breathe as I keep ramming into your dumb cunt, whispering about how you had to be such a tease, had to get me all worked up and want to put you in your place and abuse and use you.
So that’s exactly what I’m doing now, I’m using your holes and abusing you and you’re moaning for it. Look at you, enjoying being helpless. I could untie your restraints and you wouldn’t even dare to resist or run would you? Because you have always wanted this. You’ve always wanted to be kidnapped and taken by an older man. Here I am, you little slut. The man of your dirty wet dreams, forcefully fucking you. Feeling your cunt clench and unclench on my thick cock I know you’re gonna cum soon.
So cum, cum all over this thick cock. Lose your mind and your fake sense of entitlement. You are now nothing but a toy. Someone to take load after hot load of cum and live with me forever. You’ll never know freedom again, you’ll never want to hang with your family or friends again. I’ll let you go from here and you might attend school and graduate, but every day, you will come back to me. To cum for me. To cum on my cock like my good little cocksocket. Like a dumb little cock starved fuckpet. That’s because you know where you belong. You belong in service to a man who knows how to use and abuse you.
You’re just a set of holes to be filled, and nothing else. Another good girl broken by my cock. Another good girl, lost to her fantasies of an older man. Another good girl, used and ripped apart. Another good girl, cumming on her abuser’s thick cock as he pushes his load deep into your cunt, flooding you with his swimmers.
- ⭐️⭐️⭐️
Tried edging to this but I almost came a few time, the fantasy of being kidnapped and used as someone's personal cocksleeve is so hot like I'm trying to form words rn but my mind is blank and my pussy is so wettt
That's 4
#attention slvt#attention wh0r3#desperate for attention#cvm in me#give me attention#may3505#please praise me#praise k!nk#cnc free use#cvmdump#r@pe k!nk#r@petoy#r@pe kink#r@pe play#r@pe fantasy#cnc fr33use#soft cnc#cnc stalking#cnc kidnapping#rough cnc#cnc k!nk#kidnap fantasy#kidnapping k1nk#fr33use k!nk#fr33 us3#free use slvt#may3505challenge2#dumbification#dumb slvt#dumb wh0re
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and all i am is a man i want the world in my hands
#i hate the beach but i stand#in california with my toes in the sand#use sleeves of my sweater#let’s have an adventure#head in the clouds but my gravity’s centered#touch my neck and i’ll touch yours#you in those little high waisted shorts oh#she knows that i think about#and what i think about#one love two mouths#one love one house#no shirt no blouse#just us you find out#nothing that i wouldn’t wanna tell you about no#cause it’s too cold for you here and now#so let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater
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can people please stop cutting themselves for attention and talking to ME about it and telling ME about it like please stop
#starzz thoughts#angst posting i guess#not targeted i’m just tired of hearing “i cut myself last night 🥺🥺”#and then showing me their cuts (that didn’t even bleed) and stuff and i wanna like RAAAHAHGHHHHGHGHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH#im gonna tweak out#CLAWING MY SKIN OFF#tw sh talk#RAAAHHGHHHHGHHHHH#LOOSING MY MIND#AALSLSLSKDKJDDNNFNFFGGGGNGNGMGNGMGMGKGJSSSSSYTOPPPP#I DONT WANNA SEE THAT PLSESLEPLSPLS#AAÀSAAGHHH#i only added “that didn’t even bleed” because that is SCRATCHING yourself that is so light like im sorry but you didn’t cut yourself#and you’re telling me like that and showing me like you’re doing it for attention and you’re scared of it because it’s so light#i can literally tell#i’m sorry#but like#AAAASDFGHHJKLLLLLL#if you knew what actual cutting yourself was you wouldn’t be acting like this#and talking about it so publicly where anyone can hear#it obviously means nothing to you and it seems like you’re making a joke out of real people who actually have cut themselves#and you’re like mocking people too with the way you say it#that’s not okay at all#and like it’s not funny or silly or a trend it’s a real fucking thing that people struggle with#it’s not cute and it’s not silly#please stop
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This is all because someone said that tim being wealthy DOES impact his character. Like the ppl in the screenshot are defending the idea that tim should be written as middle class and even claimed that plot points about/made possible or exacerbated by his wealth have nothing to do with his characterization bc they’re plot points and not character traits. They also previously said there’s little to no mention of his wealth whilst also trying to say his wealth doesn’t matter because it’s just “new money” (which I’d argue adds a LOT of context to the drakes vs the Waynes but that’s into analysis territory and I’m not getting into with someone who said plot points don’t impact the character 💀)
Anyways the main point of the post isn’t just to clown on them I just want y’all to take that final tweet into account; “They come and take only what they want, they don’t like to delve into the great character that is Tim.” On a post saying Tim being rich doesn’t matter and has nothing to do with his character. Tim Stans I’m not saying this is all of you, but this group of y’all is sooooo. Let’s be nice and say weird. That it makes y’all look bad. When they’re saying “they pick and choose to ignore his character” in order to defend picking and choosing to ignore his character…have a group meeting or smth yall. This is crazy.
#this lowk made me appreciate tumblr tim stans#like Ik y’all wouldn’t say shit like this God Bless#dc should rewrite tim as middle class 💀#just say you have 0 understanding of why certain details were added to Tim’s character post Jason Todd#and like even if you think it has nothing to do from an in comic standpoint#are u gonna sit there and tell me his being rich doesn’t impact his writers at all? his fans at all?#the way tim has been so accepted and subsequently flanderized (not even flanderized bc some of the traits y’all boil him down to are traits#he doesn’t have) has a lot to do with him being a rich white teen#and i specify teen because the way y’all baby him has to do with his class and race#y’all make it so when you say ‘he’s socially anxious bc he was so secluded at home 🥺🥺🥺’#and tbh let’s get down to it this is another way for y’all to make him ‘special’ or more likeable without thinking about it#if you think his wealth hasn’t impacted his character why do you want him to be middle class so bad? y’all just wanna relate more#it’s like when u hc him as a poc but refuse to acknowledge that him being white may impact his character#like u don’t know shit and I don’t trust u with subjects like race or class#back to the drawing board sweetheart#im not even tagging this anti tim Drake this is just who he is lmao#anti tim Drake Twitter fans#anti Thomas and Kyle#OH and the “why Is him being rich relevant’ you don’t even know how plot points impact character you wouldn’t know#OOOH and if you mention how it might’ve impacted Bruce’s view of him they’ll call it fanon#like no thats just point A to point B#to be fair they’d prolly call Tim’s mistreatment of Steph being misogyny fanon too#craaaazy#nothing is real it all exists in a void where social issues don’t exist#Ur so so smart
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It’s seem like I can’t escape the “people don’t want to come to work so now I gotta do their mess” shenanigans…
#literally the most two irksome work pet peeves happen today and I was pissed#1st is waiting until the last second to do or change something#2nd is people who call out for a bs reason and how I gotta do your work unprepared#I work with adult learning and online webinars stuff like that#I’m like a producer I set the webinars up and I’m supposed to moderate them intro the speakers etc#and they are live events with people attending online#why two days before the event the ceo was like I don’t like the platform let’s change it…#plus some others problems they had…#why are we discussing two days before????? we had all month to discuss changes or concerns#okay there’s major problems with the event so I gotta fix some stuff and now it’s on me#to research a new platform they want this done asap#I’m annoyed cause why is this urgency my issue?#this should have proper discussed way before we rolled out the product#THEN during that this girl in my team was basically like I’m taking off so now you have to take over my event#outta nowhere…#I gotta do the rehearsal tomorrow and I know nothing about the event…#like you have been planning this event for months and all the sudden you gotta be off…#you have been complaining that’s low attendance and it’s probably gonna fail I hate#YOU just don’t wanna do it!!!#it’s like a random classmate coming up to you and saying#you gotta do my presentation now I’m gonna be out#and not send any notes or details or nothing…#don’t know why you wouldn’t show up to your own presentation besides an emergency#which apparently they knew about it last week but tells me at the last second being vague about it#maybe it’s kiosk trauma but I can just sense the bs#like not even gonna send some sub plans or anything???#that’s nutty!!!#anyway got hit with a double whammy I was so mad#but I will calm down and deal lol#callyie chat
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Being called confrontational when you can just clearly communicate without being rude is crazy to me. People are so afraid of conflict or being called out for shit they actually did when they meet someone who is actually honest with themselves they short circuit. Stay the actual fuck away from me.
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Here’s your daily reminder that you can be madly deeply in love with a girl - who used to catch her poop in a toilet paper and check its structure, hardness and smell - and you can have no idea until she one day finds you trustworthy enough to tell you that
and if you’re being a cunt about it, you are a cunt
#it was in 2005 and it was my ex but I really wanted her to tell me more about her poop tests#but now it’s too late and she wouldn’t#anyway always be a good guy and support your local poop testers#because one day you might wanna tell it to people and expect nothing from them#because once the poop is out#if you catch my poop
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Bedridden
If you had cough syrup, you’d use that to put his ass to sleep. But you don’t, so you decide to utilize a different technique, one that always successfully incapacitates a man. 🍆💦❤️🔥
Joel is sick and refuses to rest, so you knock him out the best way you know how. (5.4k)
Tags - smut, lotsa sexual tension, blow jobs, pussy pronouns, teasing, fingering, unprotected piv, riding the sick old man’s cock, creampie, non-graphic descriptions of being sick. JOEL DOES THE DAD SNEEZE. coughing, fevers. That’s all. Joel is stubborn and grumpy while you take care of his old as fuck ass. Arguing with the old man, forcing the old man to bathe, forcing the old man to eat and drink, forcing a thermometer in the old man’s mouth. Joel bitching you out the whole time. Joel is kind of exactly like Dennis in IASIP when the gang gets quarantined. Fic Help - My usuals! @beefrobeefcal, your unhinged comments on the doc were the best part. and @endlessthxxghts thank you for your help <3 A/N - Heyyyyyyy. I promised this fic yesterday and then didn’t deliver. Sorry. It just needed to marinate in the doc a little longer or something. It’s been a bullshit ass few days and I’m,,,,handling it. Anyway, I’ve been sick as balls so that’s how this fic came about. Everybody wash your hands 🧼
There’s a fine point late in the year, right after summer turns to fall. You can fall asleep with the window over your bed cracked open just an inch to let the crisp, cool air blow over your face as you cocoon yourself in blankets. In the mornings you wake to that same breeze and the birds chirping, though less and less as they fly south for the upcoming winter.
Not this morning, though. This morning, you’re awoken by a chesty, hacking cough coming from outside your window. You sigh as you get out of bed and push the curtains away from the window to get a better look at what the hell is going on out there.
And it’s just your neighbor, Joel. You should have guessed it’d be him, you heard his earth shattering, deafening sneeze the other day when you waved to him as you walked by his house. Joel waved back at you with the same hand he sneezed into. Ew.
Everyone’s getting sick lately, it goes around quickly in Jackson. Always does - it starts with the kids and works its way through the community, and a good four to six weeks are filled with endless sneezing and coughing and mucus.
Joel’s coughing up his lungs as he rakes up the leaves in your yard, a job he’s seemingly assigned himself, because you sure as shit didn’t ask him to do this. He has a habit of taking on your chores and home maintenance out of his own frustration.
You pull a robe over your pajamas and slide on a pair of slippers, then leave out of the front door to greet Joel. “Good morning, Joel.”
Joel clears his throat. “S’actually noon, lazy ass. ‘Bout time ya woke up.”
“Wanna tell me what you’re doing?”
“Exactly what it looks like.” He sniffles and wipes his nose on his sleeve. Gross. “M’workin’.”
“Yeah, I see that. But you sound sick.”
Joel ignores the accusation, “Your yard looks like shit, by the way,” he says. “Wouldn’t kill ya to rake once in a while. ‘Stead of makin’ me do it.”
“You choose to do this. I don’t make you do anything,” you argue, rolling your eyes. It’s funny, though. Joel’s turning into the caricature of the old man angrily shaking his fist at kids playing on his lawn. All crotchety and pissed off about nothing. You step closer to him and wrap your hand around the handle of the rake, pulling it towards yourself. “Besides, Mother Nature put those leaves there for a reason,” you add.
“Sure, smartass. For you to ignore and for me to clean up. Now, give it,” Joel tugs the rake back. Whatever. You let him. Joel rakes more of your leaves into the pile he’s created, then doubles over in another coughing fit. You rub your palm on his back, patting him gently. He’s sweating through his flannel. “Oh, Christ. Fuck me.”
“Joel, you look awful.”
You help him stand up, “You’re a terrible flirt, darlin’,” Joel replies dryly. But he knows you’re not wrong. He saw in the mirror how pale he looked this morning, the dark circles around his eyes.
“Oh, shut up.” You press the back of your hand against Joel’s forehead, all sweaty and warm. “You’re burning up, Joel. You’re sick.”
“I am not sick,” Joel protests through another cough. “I’m fine. How ‘bout you worry ‘bout yourself ‘stead of fussin’ over me.”
“You’re hacking up a lung in my yard. I’ll worry about you all I want, thank you.”
In response, Joel grumbles something you can’t quite make out. You roll your eyes and take the rake from him, dropping it on the grass. “My rake,” Joel murmurs, annoyed and defeated. With your work clearly cut out for you, you take his hand and lead him into your house. “Aw, hell. What’re you doin’ to me.”
“Taking care of you,” you reply.
“Didn’t sign up for this bullshit,” Joel complains. “I don’t need takin’ care of.”
Oh, he’s a peach. Most men, when sick, are total babies - pathetically crying about their headaches and stomachaches to women who deal with the same symptoms on a monthly basis. It’s charming, truly. But not Joel, though. In his stubbornness, Joel refuses to ever admit when he’s sick, like he’s got something to prove. Can never let himself be taken care of, because that’s his job - to take care of others. Always has been.
Once inside, you have Joel take off his boots, then usher him to the bathroom with a hand on his back, his flannel damp with sweat. “Sit.” You reach for Joel’s shoulders and push him down, forcing him onto the lidded toilet. You crouch down at the bathtub and plug the drain with the stopper, then turn the water on - not too hot, not too cold. “Yeah, this is good. This’ll make you feel so much better.”
“Oh, c’mon. Turn off the damn water. I’m not takin’ a bath.”
“You are, too.”
“Am not.”
“Joel,” you bite. Joel parrots your name back in the same threatening tone.
“We’re breaking that fever one way or another, Joel. So you bathe yourself, or I’ll do it.”
Joel cocks an eyebrow. “Oh, will ya, now?”
You go quiet, no retort to his comment. Heat rises to your cheeks and you focus on the bathtub filling with water to avoid Joel’s taunting gaze. After a long enough silence passes, Joel changes the subject. “I don’t have any clean clothes, y’know.”
“Then I’ll grab you some from your house,” you mumble.
“Mm,” Joel grunts. “Got an answer for everything, don’tcha?”
You glare. Joel glares too. You fold your arms across your chest and raise your eyebrows at him. You are not losing this battle.
Joel sighs in defeat. “Alright, go on an’ get, then. I’ll take the fuckin’ bath if it’ll get me fifteen minutes away from you obsessin’ over me. There. Happy?”
“Happy.”
You leave Joel in the bathroom to bathe himself, closing the door behind you. Still wearing nothing but pajamas and a robe, you change quickly into a hoodie and jeans, then leave through your front door for the second time.
Joel’s house is right next to yours, so it’s not a long walk. Mentally, you’re kicking yourself for your stupid threat to bathe Joel. The way he responded to it, ‘Oh, will ya?’ and how bashful that made you, the embarrassment written all over your face in big, black, permanent marker. Your crush on the older man is obvious, and Joel, never the gentleman, will jump at any opportunity to make you squirm. Like when he catches your eyes lingering on him for a little too long, he’ll tease you for it. “S’rude to stare, y’know,” he’ll taunt, always with that stupid fucking grin on his face. Smile lines framing his cheeks, crows feet handsomely peeking at the corners of his eyes. You really need to stop setting yourself up for these things.
Once in Joel’s house, you head upstairs for his bedroom and rifle through his dresser drawers for some comfy clothes. You pick out a pair of plaid boxers, some gray sweatpants, and a navy waffle-knit henley. You bunch up his clothes and inhale, Joel’s natural smell still lingering in the clothes, even washed.
In his kitchen, you notice some vegetables sitting out on his countertops. Carrots, potatoes, onions. You grab those too, then check the fridge for leftover chicken or turkey or something. He usually has some, and usually brings it to you after he’s had his fill. “This is for you, trouble. Cause y’don’t eat enough,” he’ll gruff. “Would you like me to heat it up for ya?” And whether you say yes or no, he always does. It seems to make him happy or fulfill him somehow, so you let him take care of you like that. If only he’d let you return the favor.
Bingo. There’s chicken in old Tupperware right on the top shelf, and yesterday’s date written in Joel’s terrible handwriting from an old, dried up Sharpie. You take that too, then go back home.
You leave Joel’s food you stole on the kitchen table and stop at your linen closet for a fresh towel. You knock on the bathroom door, “Joel?”
“Yeah, darlin’.”
“I have your clothes. And a towel.”
“Good. I need those,” Joel says. “C’mon in, then.”
You open the door, averting your eyes from Joel’s naked body in the bathtub. “Relax. M’not gonna let you see somethin’ you ain’t ‘sposed to.” He’s got his hands covering his manhood, the rest of himself on display - toned biceps, veined forearms. His belly is pillowy and hairy and his legs look so long, all bare like this. His toes peeking out of the soapy bathwater. You set the towel and his clothes down on the toilet, stealing an even longer look at him when you think he doesn’t notice. “I see ya snoopin’, trouble. Wanna take a picture?”
You roll your eyes and ignore the offer, turning your attention to Joel but keeping your eyes focused on his face. His hair is slicked back, and his grays pop out against the rest of his dark hair, little ringlet curls at his neck. The asshole is criminally handsome.
“Are you feeling better?”
“I feel fine. Like I’ve felt all day,” Joel lies. His body betrays him instantly when another cough wracks through him.
“Right. Well, you smell better, at least.”
Joel rolls his eyes, “Nice one, sweetheart. Thanks. Now scram, so I can get dressed.”
You leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind yourself again. You can hear the sound of the bathtub draining and Joel getting out of the tub as you stop at the linen closet again, this time grabbing some queen sized sheets and pillowcases.
In your living room, you pull some cushions off of your sofa and pull out the built-in bed, then dress it with the sheets and an old floral quilt. You cover your own pillows in the pillowcases, then fluff them nicely and set them up for Joel, who’s leaving the bathroom now, combing his hair back.
“Stole your comb,” he says, tossing it for you to catch. He stops in the living room and looks at the pull-out bed that you made up, the corners of the sheets tucked in and everything. “The hell’s all this?”
“Exactly what it looks like,” You mock his words from earlier. “Your bed.”
“You’re bein’ ridiculous. I ain’t even sick.”
You ignore Joel and point to the bed. “Get in.”
Joel rolls his eyes but gets in the bed anyway, springs squeaking under his weight. “M’not gettin’ in this bed ‘cause I’m sick or ‘cause you’re makin’ me. Just feel like sittin’.”
“Sure, Joel,” you sigh. “How much water have you had today?”
“Plenty.”
“How much is plenty?”
“It’s enough,” he snaps impatiently. You leave him just for a second to fill a glass with some water, then bring it to him. Joel pushes the glass away, “I said I’ve had enough.”
“I’ll decide what’s enough, now here–” you put the glass into his hand, “Drink.”
Joel drinks the entirety of the glass, glaring at you the entire time. Good god, if looks could fucking kill. The cool water soothes his scratchy, sore throat, but Joel won’t tell you that. “You’re a tyrant, sweetheart,” he tells you, voice raspy and low. What he doesn’t tell you, however, is that if the shoe were on the other foot and you were the sick one right now, he'd be just as overbearing over your health. Probably worse.
You pout mockingly at Joel as you take his glass. “Stay here. Don’t get up.”
You get up from the bed to go into the kitchen and begin preparing a soup for Joel to soothe his aching throat. You start by dicing onions, then chopping some carrots. You toss them in a large pot with some butter, letting the vegetables soften. You’ve even got some leftover bread you made yesterday, so you turn on your oven to heat it up. You can hear Joel getting restless, tossing and turning in the less than comfortable bed. Probably should have turned on a movie for him, left him a book or something to occupy his restless mind. “You okay?”
“M’fine. Mind your business.”
You open Joel’s Tupperware and chop up his chicken into little bits. When you look up, Joel’s out of bed. You scoff. He’s forcing open your window, grunting as it squeaks. “Joel, what did I tell you? Get your ass back in that bed.”
“Relax, would ya? M’tryin’ to get some air in here.” Joel successfully forces the window open, and cool air blows into your tediously warmed home. “House is a fuckin’ oven.”
“Yeah, well, that’s probably your fever talking, dumbass. Put my window down.”
“I really outta fix this window for ya. Ain’t good to leave it like this. I’ll get my tools an’ I–”
You march across the kitchen and into the living room, knife in hand and using it to point to the bed. “Joel.”
“You scare me,” Joel mumbles, raising his arms in surrender. He closes the sticky window for you, then you march him back to the pullout. Before Joel lays down, he glances in the kitchen at what you’ve been cooking. He heard the sounds of you chopping, but with his nose all congested he can’t smell enough to hazard a guess as to what you’ve been making. Joel narrows his eyes at the stolen Tupperware on your table, the carrots and onion peels to the side, and recognizes it all as his. “Is that my…?”
“Just lay down, Joel.”
“Did you take that from my fridge?”
“I did.”
You’re completely shameless about this, there’s not even a half-assed attempt at lying your way out, and Joel’s beside himself. “You stole from me, you little–” You urge Joel into bed, fluffing the pillows behind him as you ignore his tantrum. “You are unbelievable. I could throttle you, you know that?”
“Go ahead, Joel,” you challenge. A slight breeze could knock this sick old man down to his knees. You tuck Joel into the sheets, then adjust the quilt over him again. And this time before leaving him, you grab an old book of word searches in a basket under an end table. “Here.” You toss it to him along with a dull pencil. That should keep him busy.
Back in the kitchen, you’re still working on Joel’s soup. It’s bubbling away on the stove, and you’ve just finished making egg noodles to make the dish a little heartier. Something to stick to his ribs. It hits you then, that you don’t hear sniffling or coughing. Joel’s gone quiet, suspiciously so.
And lo and be-fucking-hold, Joel’s up again. This time, with tools. Tools that you don’t have, tools that he must have snuck out and grabbed from his home at some point. “Joel!”
“There,” Joel says, moving your window up and down seamlessly. “Window’s fixed.”
“How many times do I have to say it?”
“How about you try a ‘thank you’, huh?” Joel shoots back.
You shoo him back to bed. You slice a bit of warm bread, then ladle some soup into a bowl and bring it to him with a spoon. “Eat,” you tell him.
Joel eats a spoonful, and it’s written all over his face how much he enjoys it, the warm broth relieving his sore throat. “So what’d you poison it with, huh?”
“Oh, you’re such a dick.”
Joel smiles, only teasing. “M’sorry. S’just that you shouldn’t be doin’ all this for me, s’all.” Joel squeezes your knee comfortingly. “Thank you. I mean it, darlin’.” He’ll let you feed him, but no more than that. You’re too sweet for your own good. “S’good soup.”
“I’m glad you like it, you asshole.” You smile too, and push some of Joel’s hair out of his face. He finishes his bowl of soup, even has a second one. You take his bowl away and wash it at the sink.
“Should let me do that,” Joel says, following you into the kitchen. “Ain’t that how it works? One cooks, the other cleans.” Joel bumps you to the side and takes the soapy dish from your hands.
“Maybe another time,” you offer, attempting to take back the bowl. “Don’t want your germs on my dinnerware.” But Joel holds on tight, so you let him wash the dish. Since he wants to die on this hill. So you dry your hands, then feel his forehead once again. You frown, displeased that the bath didn’t work at curbing his fever at all. He’s still burning up. “I’ll be right back.”
You go to your bathroom and open the cabinet vanity, where you have an old Walgreens thermometer, the paint all smudged off. You wash it with soap and water in the sink, then return to Joel. Amazingly, you find him in the bed doing his word search puzzle, and you didn’t even have to tell him to go lay down this time.
The bed creaks under you as you sit down next to him. You put his book down, “Open,” you tell him, thermometer in hand.
“Oh, c’mon now,” Joel complains. “Get that thermometer outta my face.”
You shake your head no, and tug on Joel's chin so that he opens his mouth. You place the thermometer under his tongue and he closes his lips around it, staring daggers at you the entire time thermometer reads his temperature.
He’s so handsome. Big, sparkling brown eyes underneath brows knit together in irritation. Pouting lips. Age looks good on him, perfectly both softens and enhances his rougher edges.
The thermometer beeps. You read the temperature, 102.3°F. Why Joel’s even upright with a fever like this is a mystery, but that’s men for you. Fucking idiots. “That’s a hell of a fever you’re running, Joel.”
“You’re full’a shit. Gimme that.” Joel sniffles and snatches the thermometer from you to read the number for himself. He shrugs. “S’old. Probably faulty. Can’t trust it.” Joel covers his mouth with his elbow and coughs loudly.
“You’re old and faulty too, Joel. Look at you.” You offer him a handkerchief to wipe his nose. “You’re falling apart.”
Joel scowls at you before blowing his nose. You leave him once more, this time to bring him a cool, damp rag. You press it against his forehead, and Joel closes his eyes. “Does that feel nice?”
“No. Quit that.”
But Joel’s body betrays him. He’s sighing in relief, and his tensed muscles loosen. His breathing, while still shallow, has slowed as much as it can, soft belly rising and falling with steady breaths.
“Are you falling asleep?”
“No, I’m not. M’not tired,” Joel argues. He tries adjusting the now lukewarm rag, warmed by his body heat.
“You should sleep.”
“Nah.”
You take the damp rag off of Joel’s forehead and flip it so that the cooler side soothes his hot, feverish skin. “You know, Joel, I think this is why god made women. To take care of stupid, sick men like you.”
“Hm. Could be so. But I think he sent you to me as a punishment of sorts.”
“Is that so? A punishment?”
“S’right. An’ some day, you’ll fool some poor man into marryin’ you and he’ll have to put up with this same shit the rest of his life. I don’t envy that sorry bastard one bit.”
“Oh, I know,” you coo, wiping away a droplet of water that rolls down his temple. “You tell me all about it, Joel. Tell me how terrible it is.”
“Oh, I intend to.” Joel continues his tirade, bitching and moaning about how you're doing too much, that none of this is necessary. ‘Quit fussin’ over me’ and so on.
You know that after this, Joel will try to leave you, go home and fiddle with things in his home that aren’t broken - or worse yet, he’ll tinker with the things in yours that he deems in need of fixing. Squeaky door, creaky floor panels. You listen to his slight wheezing, his sniffling, his voice all raspy and broken. He really does need to rest, the poor man.
If you had cough syrup, you’d use that to put his ass to sleep. But you don’t, so you decide to utilize a different technique, one that always successfully incapacitates a man.
You remove the damp rag from Joel’s head and set it on the coffee table behind you. Joel’s eyes are shut as he takes shallow breaths, and you trace lazy patterns on his stomach, inching your way down, down, until you’re rubbing his warm bulge, feeling him stiffen beneath your touch. “Goddamnit, what the hell are you doin’ t’me, now?” Joel groans. He takes your wrist and squeezes it gently in his grip.
“Nothing, Joel,” you answer innocently.
“Bullshit, it’s - you’re - oh, fuck.” Joel bucks into your palm. You slide your hand beneath his sweatpants to touch his bare cock, amused at how Joel decided against wearing boxers today. “You’re killin’ me, sweetheart. You gotta, you can’t–”
“Shhh,” you hush him. You drag your nails through his patch of coarse hair, playing with those long and wiry hairs. You palm his cock again, half hard and growing harder by the second. Before this goes further, you tug his sweatpants down his thighs. “Lift up for me, Joel.”
Joel lifts his hips and you tug his sweats down the rest of the way, then continue touching him. You spit into your hand and pump him from top to bottom, taking special care to gently massage his balls when you reach the base of his cock. “Ohh, darlin’. Oh lord.”
Joel’s stiffened to full length now. You kiss the tip of his cock, all the way down his shaft before licking your way back up, one long, fat stripe. You swirl your tongue around the head and dip your head, teasing him with it as you bob your head up and down, taking more and more of him down your throat with each pass.
Joel moans, his sick voice breaking a little. He keeps a heavy hand on your bobbing hand and wonders what the hell he did to deserve this from you. He should have stopped fighting his sickness long ago if this is what was in the cards for him.
Realization dawns on Joel. It all makes sense, why you’re sucking him off at this particular moment. You’re trying to put him to bed, you goddamn deviant. “You’re trouble,” he accuses. “I know exactly what you’re doin’.”
“Hmm?” You turn your head to Joel, his cock still in your mouth. You bounce it against your inner cheek, and Joel groans at the lewd image of his cockhead bulging in your mouth.
“Yeah,” Joel says. “And let me - oh, fuck-” You drop your head low, taking all of him into your mouth. So deep that your nose is buried in his pubic hair. “Let me tell ya, darlin’, what you’re doin - it ain’t gonna work on me.”
You pull off of his cock with a pop. “It won’t?”
Joel shakes his head. “Mm-mm. You’re wastin’ your time.”
“Oh. Well, I should stop, then.”
You begin to pull off of his cock, but Joel forces you back down. “Nah, you don’t have t - you gotta give it your best shot, right?”
You smile with Joel’s cock in your mouth. What a fucking guy. You pull off of him only momentarily, garnering a protesting groan spilling from his lips. You take off your shirt and unbutton your pants. “Lemme help you with that, c’mere, darlin’,” Joel says, pulling your pants and panties down your legs. He unclasps your bra next, then sheds his own clothing.
You take him right back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck his length. This time, though, you play with your pussy. As you move up and down Joel’s shaft, you slip through your folds, dipping down to your wet hole to gather your arousal on your fingertips. You circle your clit a couple of times, then push your fingers in and out of your pussy.
“You fuckin’ yourself on your fingers, sweetheart?”
“Mm-hm,” you hum, mouth stuffed full of Joel’s cock.
Joel pulls your hand away and replaces your fingers with his own, much thicker and longer ones. “Let me,” he says. “S’my job. Shouldn’t have t’do that to yourself, ‘less you wanna. Or if I say so.”
Joel spreads your thighs wider. He moves his pointer and middle fingers up and down, exploring your slick, velvety pussy. He sucks those two fingers and then his thumb and rubs tight circles around the sensitive nub, all swollen and wet with your arousal. You moan at the action, the vibration of your voice traveling right down his shaft and to his balls. He bucks himself into your mouth.
Joel inserts his middle and ring fingers into your pussy, pumping in and out slowly before curling them upward, stroking right where you need him to. “Got a nice fuckin’ pussy,” he purrs with his hoarse, gravelly voice. You pulse around his fingers, and Joel admires the way your tight hole hugs him as he moves in and out of you. “She’s makin’ such a mess, drippin’ all over me.”
You twist your fist up and down Joel’s shaft as you suck him, working him closer and closer to the edge. Joel’s content with this, the prospect of coming down your throat and fucking you with his fingers. But you have a different idea, and when his balls are tightening and his shaft is twitching, his breathing quickening, you pull off of him.
Joel groans in frustration, but his anger is quickly eased when you straddle his hips. You reach between your legs for his cock and stroke it, dragging the tip through your folds, up and down, up and down, dipping it in and out of yourself to tease him. “You’re fightin’ dirty.”
Joel’s exercised enough self control today and doesn’t let you tease him for long. He puts both of his large, weathered, and masculine hands on your waist and pulls you right down on his cock, the initial penetration causing a stretch so intense you see stars for a second. “Oh god, Joel,” you moan, clutching his shoulders.
“I know, I know,” Joel whispers, rubbing your back. “You good, sweetheart? You need a minute?”
“Just - just a second.”
“Take your time. Know it’s a lot, you’ll get used to it.”
Joel gives you a second, then inches you up and down on his cock to get you adjusted to the sensation of being so full of him. Soon enough, the ache dissipates and is replaced with pleasure, nothing but pure pleasure. You rest against his hot body, rocking your hips to grind against his pubic bone.
You know that by the way he bucked his hips into your mouth, how he pulled you down on his cock, how even now he moves you, that he’ll tire himself out. Your plan was simply to make him come to knock him out, but this - this works too. Exhaust his body, get yourself off in the process. Killing two birds with one stone.
Joel fucks you harder now, hands on your ass to move you up and down on his cock. He bends his legs at the knee for more leverage, bouncing you on his lap. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he grunts. He moves you so that your chest is right above his face, and one at a time, sucks your nipples into his mouth, teeth lightly grazing them.
You hold onto Joel’s broad shoulders to steady yourself, looking down at him as he fucks himself into you. He’s so handsome, cheeks and chest all flushed red, a sheen of sweat glittering at his hairline, his graying curls damp. Joel’s eyebrows are knit together as he fucks you, tracing your curves with his gaze. He pulls you against his chest as he ruts against you, his scruff scratching your skin so deliciously. “Takin’ me so good. Look so pretty on my cock like this.”
You move at his will. Joel’s underneath you, rocking himself in and out of your dripping, tight pussy. His thrusts are getting sloppy, hips stuttering in a non-rhythm as he pushes himself inside you over and over. He must be getting close now.
“Up, sweetheart. Lean back f’me.”
You peel yourself off of Joel’s middle, all slick with his sweat. Joel spits into his hand and presses the calloused pads of his fingertips against your clit. You roll your hips against him, savoring that much-needed friction against your clit.
“Like that, darlin’. Jus’ like that. Fuck yourself on my cock,” Joel says, rubbing your sensitive bud with tight circles. “Gonna watch you come all over me.”
“Yeah,” you moan, “Wanna come for you.”
Joel loves you like this. Your face contorted in pleasure, mouth agape, body quivering and twitching on top of him. He steadily massages your wet, swollen clit and wears a crooked smile when he feels your cunt start to pulse around him. And you think you’re pulling one over on him, but look at you, all fucked out and delirious. You’ll probably crash after this, and Joel will go right back to fixing up your house. There’s a door hinge that’s been squeaking…
“Oh my - Joel, I’m - I’m gonna -”
“Know you are, sweetheart. Let me have it,” he groans, voice all broken and hoarse. “Come all over my cock, darlin’. Let go f’me.”
That hot, sticky pleasure in your gut begins to intensify rapidly. You go quiet just before it happens, then let out a long, whimpering moan when your orgasm takes over your body. You shudder and jerk as Joel fucks you through your release, and once you’ve ridden it out, Joel pulls you tight against his chest.
While you come down from your high, Joel frantically fucks you, slamming his hips against yours as he chases his own climax, balls tightening and his belly filling with warmth. “Oh, goddamn. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Joel pants as he comes, painting your insides with his hot seed, the warmth of his release and the pulsing of his cock so satisfying.
Coming down from his orgasm, a wave of exhaustion hits Joel. He finds himself unable to move, unable to open his heavy eyelids. He might’ve been wrong, because napping away the rest of the afternoon doesn’t sound quite so bad, now.
You pull your body off of Joel’s and he lets out a sighing grunt when his softening cock slides out of your body, the mess he created with you spilling all over his lap. You grab that washrag you held against his forehead and clean him up and then yourself, then get up to dispose of it.
Joel grabs you by the arm, his grip weak. “Don’t you go anywhere, trouble,” he grumbles.
“But I’ve gotta take care of this, Joel,” you protest.
“Deal with it later. Just -” Joel yawns and pulls you down and holds you tight against his chest, as tight as he can, anyway. “Jus’ stay with me a minute.”
Joel’s eyes are still shut, and his breathing becomes slow and rhythmic. It’s laughable how quickly sleep is taking over his sick, exhausted body, having used what little life he had in himself to fuck you stupid. Like that last burst of energy from a dying star. “I thought you weren’t tired,” you tease.
Joel sniffles. “M’not.”
“Mhm. Sure.”
“Just checkin’ my eyelids for holes.”
You push some curls out of Joel’s face and hold your palm against his cheek, still hot with his fever. He’s so peaceful looking like this, plump lips pouting as he breathes through his mouth. You bring your face close to his and close the gap by pressing a little kiss against his lips.
“What’re you kissin’ me for, hm?”
“I want to,” you reply, kissing him again.
“Gonna get yourself sick,” Joel murmurs groggily, eyes still closed. “Which means in a couple days, I get to do all this right back to you. S'payback, darlin’.”
You chuckle. And in just a few short seconds, Joel’s snoring lightly, dead to the world.
If you enjoyed, please please please reblog with thoughts or comment or hop in my inbox! Your kind words go farther than you know in keeping me motivated to write 💕
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x reader smut#joel miller/reader#joel miller x you#joel miller one shot#joel miller fic#grumpy joel#joel miller tlou#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#Joel miller#pedro pascal characters#tlou#tlou smut#the last of us#Joel tlou#tlou Joel
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Hi!! If you're up to it do you think you could write something about the first time Jason brings his gf to the manor. Like maybe he brings her in but doesn't tell anyone and so everyone is trying to sneak a glimpse of her??
meet the family
jason todd x fem!reader
aka jason has a girlfriend???
warnings: none
The manor sits full as ever—a cloud of mild boredom sweeping over the Wayne clan.
Dick sits perched on top of an armchair reading a catalog, Stephanie’s splayed out across the couch, Cass is bundled up in blankets atop the ottoman, and Damian leans up against the center table from the floor.
It’s a relatively slow afternoon, until Tim comes bursting into the room, out of breath.
“There’s a girl here!”
Everybody looks at him, disinterest scattered across the room. “There’s a couple of ‘em.” Dick says, flipping through the pages of the magazine.
Tim huffs, “No! In Jason’s room—he has a girl in there!” Eyebrows shoot up at that.
“Now I know you’re lying.” Damian mutters.
Tims head snaps over to Damian. “Dude, go see for yourself. I heard her!”
“You really think Jason would bring a girl here and not even introduce us?” Steph asks, unconvinced.
“Yeah.”
“Yes.”
“Obviously.”
Cassandra nods fervently.
“Okay, yeah. Maybe.” Stephanie mutters. “I bet he’ll introduce me before any of you guys, though.”
Dick barks out a laugh, “You’re nothing short of delusional if you think he’s introducing any of us.”
“We’ll have to take matters into our own hands, then.” Tim says, decidedly.
Damian audibly sighs and rolls his eyes.
“I’m meeting her first.” Steph confirms. “I’ll put money down right now.”
“Meet her or see her?” Cass signs.
“Same thing.” Stephanie shrugs.
Dick shoots up from his seat, “First person to see her gets to be the ring bearer!” He announces, racing out of the room.
Knock knock knock knock knock…
Knock knock.
It takes a good forty seconds, but Jason opens the door, an annoyed frown already on his face.
Dick gives him his brightest smile. It beams of deceit in Jason's eyes. “Hey man. What’cha doing?”
He crosses his arms. “What do you want?”
Dick tries to peer around Jason into the room, but Jason made a point of barely opening the door and his large frame isn’t doing Dick any favors right now.
“Just wanted to say hey…You wanna hang out?”
“No.”
Dick lingers awkwardly. “…Are you sure?”
Jason shuts the door.
A couple minutes later, Tim comes running up the stairs. He opts to skip over the courtesy of knocking and go straight for barging through the door himself. Or he would’ve, if Jason hadn’t seen that coming from a mile away and locked it.
“Fuck off, Tim!” Jason calls from inside the room.
“You lost your right to privacy the second you walked in this house!” He shouts back, hitting his fist against the door.
And Tim swears he can hear a sweet laugh as he trudges away. The authenticity of that claim will be heavily debated downstairs for the next several minutes.
Not even a thirty seconds later, Stephanie comes a knockin’. Jason opens the door wordlessly, patience clearly dissipating more and more.
“Hey, Jason! I can’t find my comm, you wouldn’t happen to have it, would you?”
His face deadpans. “No, Steph.”
Stephanie clicks her tongue, “Can you check?”
He stares at her.
“Actually you’re right, it would be faster if I did.” Stephanie tries to push past him into the room, but Jason, unsurprisingly, doesn’t budge.
“Stephanie.”
“I just want to meet her!” She pleads. “I won’t even tell the others, I’ll just say you wouldn’t let me in either!”
“Bye.” He closes the door.
He doesn’t make it all the way back to the bed before the next knock, singular and short.
Jason snaps the door open again, looking down at Damian with a glare.
Never one to waste any time, “Is there a girl in here?” Damian asks, seeming thoroughly disinterested in the answer.
Jason shuts the door in his face.
Several minutes later, another, quieter knock. Jason’s groan can be heard from outside the room. He pulls open the door once again.
It’s Cass.
She stares at him.
He stares at her.
“Can I say hi to her?” She signs.
Jason sighs. “I’ll pass along the message.”
She smiles and turns back down the hall.
Jason closes and locks the door once again, trudging back over to the bed where you lay. He collapses onto your chest, your arms wrapping around each others bodies immediately.
“Cass says hi.” He mumbles, the sound obscured by his face-down position.
“That message would be a lot more meaningful if I actually knew Cass.”
He groans. “You don’t want to meet them.”
“I do.” You say, running your fingers through his hair. “And I think you do too, or you wouldn’t have brought me to the house where the world's best detectives live.”
“I’m starting to regret it now.”
“Come on. Please?” You plead.
He picks his head up to look at you.
“Are you sure?” He asks with a grimace.
“Absolutely.” You say, topping it off with a kiss on his cheek.
He sighs.
Well. It’s never been within Jason’s skill set to deny you, anyways.
You descend the stairs hand in hand with Jason, his energy mopier than usual. You can hear a gaggle of voices coming from a room ahead, all talking over one another.
“Okay, Tim, you climb up outside the window and—”
“—It’s your plan, you scale the side of the house.”
Jason drops his head and mutters a “Jesus Christ…” as you near the commotion.
You give him a reassuring smile and pat his back as you both move into the doorway.
Everyone’s heads snap to the doorway, eyes wide and waiting.
Jason takes a deep breath like he’s steeling himself for torture. “Guys…This is my girlfriend.”
“Hi.” You smile sweetly, waving to the room.
There’s a moment of still silence before the room erupts.
“Hold on—”
“—my god, she’s so pretty!”
“Oh wow—”
“Wait, what?”
”—You’re real?”
“—didn’t place that bet.”
Stephanie comes scurrying up to you and grabs both of your hands in hers. “Hi, I’m Steph!” She says with a beaming smile. “What’s your name?”
“I’m—”
But the others are right on her tail, crowding around you.
“We didn’t even know Jason had a girlfriend.” Tim says.
“Still not convinced.” Damian mumbles from the back.
Cass waves and signs something to you.
“She says we’re really happy to meet you, which we are.” Dick tells you.
Damian moves closer within the huddle and inspects you closely. You have no idea what he’s inspecting you for. You don’t need to dwell on it for long because Jason pushes his head away from you with mild force making Damian scowl.
Stephanie chimes in, “Did he bring you here to meet us? The others said—”
Jason cuts her off, already knowing exactly where that sentence was going. “I brought her here to show her my old room.”
Dick snickers, “Oh, is that what you were off doing?”
“Watch it.” Your boyfriend warns.
You nudge him with your elbow, be nice.
Tim moves closer to you, narrowing his eyes. “So you’ve like, spent time with him and everything? And you still want to be around him?”
“Okay and you’re done.” Jason takes your hand and leads you out of the room and back down the hallway.
“No wait!”
You’re already out of the room and into another and then another before you can even realize that you’re headed for the front door.
You stop in your tracks, pulling him to a halt as well. “What about—”
Jason shakes his head. “You don’t want to meet him.”
You lower your chin at him, “Jay. Do you want me to meet him?”
He’s silent and doesn’t look like he particularly does.
You sigh, “Okay, do you want him to meet me?”
“I—yeah…” he trails, and you give him your best sweet eyes, the ones that he knows he has no business saying no to. “I…okay. Okay.”
He leads you down another hallway, the sounds of his siblings clambering echoing in the distance. You end up in a room that looks like a never used study, where Jason pushes on one of the walls. It slides open with a bit of force from him, revealing a door with a keypad next to it.
He types a series of numbers into it, and opens it up to a narrow passageway that looks remarkably like a cave.
The passageway leads down to a set of stairs, and you can hear the loud sound of water in the distance.
You’re quite nervous about walking into the Batcave, but you know Jason wouldn’t bring you anywhere near it unless he was sure it would be okay. Okay for you that is, more so than his father.
“Careful. It’s slippery.” Jason holds your hand the whole way down anyway, making sure to linger no more than a step and a half in front of you.
You see Bruce Wayne, sitting at a desk with a large array of computer screens in front of it, and case files scattered all throughout the surface.
He doesn’t acknowledge your entrance, though you have to imagine if Jason got his observation skills from anywhere, it would be him.
As you approach, Jason switches your hands so that his left is holding your left. The result has his figure half covering you, you can only assume partially limiting Bruce’s view of you.
“Bruce.”
Bruce turns his chair around, regarding Jason with a raised chin. The greeting is somehow even more formal than you’d expected.
“Jason.” He readdresses his gaze to you. “Who’s this?”
Jason has a hell of a feeling that Bruce already knows exactly who you are. He’s probably known about you since you started dating. He would’ve had to, to not be pissed as hell that Jason brought a civilian into the cave.
Jason introduces you, his hand reluctantly letting go as you step forward to shake Bruce’s.
Bruce looks surprised, though pleasantly so. He smiles and shakes it kindly.
“It’s nice to finally meet you.” He says.
“You too, I’ve heard a lot about you.” You say, smiling.
He laughs, “Oh, I bet.” Looking to Jason, he says, “I can’t say I’ve had the same pleasure, unfortunately.”
Though Jason’s behind you now, you can practically feel him roll his eyes.
“No, I can’t imagine him sharing anything unprovoked.” Bruce smiles widely at that.
He opens his mouth to say something else, but Jason, who’s probably on the brink of losing his mind down here, interrupts.
“Alright. Time to go.” Jason says, grabbing your hand again. He doesn’t give you much time to protest before he’s guiding you by the waist past him and towards the stairs.
You let him nudge you out and call over your shoulder, “It was nice meeting you!”
He’s halfway up the stairs as you exit, only to be stopped by Bruce addressing him again.
“Jason.”
Jason stalls his steps, turning around slowly. You’re out of the cave now, and Jason’s not excited to be alone with his Dad for even a minute. It doesn’t help that he has no idea what he’ll say.
“She’s kind.” Bruce says, simply.
“Yes.”
He tilts his head at Jason, observing him. “You love her?”
Jason looks at the ground. “Yes.”
Bruce nods. “Good.”
He returns to his work at the computers wordlessly, and Jason has to take a moment to realign himself before he climbs the rest of the stairs.
Jason doesn’t particularly seek his fathers approval, nor does he place any definable value on it. However, hearing him give his own version of his blessing to you struck something inside Jason. Something deep in his chest.
He re-enters the study, finding it empty. He walks out into the hallway, where you’re nowhere to be found. Despite being halfway across the house by this point, he can distinctly hear his siblings chattering in the living room. Chattering. And chattering. And chattering…
Oh god, you went back to the living room.
As Jason approaches the conversation becomes clearer.
“—long have you been together, anyways?”
“Well—”
Stephanie gasps suddenly, cutting you off. “Oh wait, you have to meet Alfred!”
“Oh, we’ve already met.” You tell her.
Dick’s head snaps up. “What? When?”
Jason enters the room, draping his arm around your shoulder. “About six months before you met her.”
A chorus of gasps and shouts ring out.
“What?”
#jason todd loves his gf#jason todd x you#jason todd/you#jason todd imagine#jason todd/reader#jason todd fanfic#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd x reader#batfam x you#batfam imagine#batfam fanfiction#batfam fanfic#batfam x reader#batfam dynamics
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What about a princess bunny-hybrid! reader (chubby like always) that has a secret romantic affair with a wolf-hybrid knight?
Nothing too original lmao but.... Maybe NSFW involved, please?
NSFW
warning: dubcon, somno, breeding, pregnancy
You had always been taken care of with a tender hand, your wolf!hybrid knight never letting you feel alone or afraid for even a second.
He absolutely adored you, that was clear to anyone that watched him interact with you for more than a minute… but unfortunately for your poor knight, you were oblivious to his romantic affections.
That was until the day your knight went into rut. Usually, he locked himself away from the world, not wanting to harm anyone… especially you.
But this time he had been on guard duty, staying by your side constantly due to a recent assassination attempt.
So when he watched over you sleeping, defenseless body as he stroked his fat cock, knotting his hand, he couldn’t help but gently press his tip to your tongue that poked out of you mouth.
It was straight up sinful. Knights were supposed to protect the purity of their princess and make sure they remained untainted… but here he was, using your thighs to get off as you snoozed peacefully.
It wasn’t long before that wasn’t enough. Your knight watched you like a predator watched its prey.
But you weren’t afraid. Your fluffy bunny ears twitched happily every time you saw him. After all, the two of you had been close since childhood.
“H-hey, you sure this is okay?”
Your knight licked your neck, your bottom lifted in the air and cotton tail wagging furiously as his cock rubbed against your bunny cunt.
“Of course it is, princess… just… trust me okay..?”
He panted, his tail swaying as he pressed against your tight hole. “Be a good girl for me, I always take care of you, don’t I?”
That was the first time he sunk his cock into your pretty pussy, starting off your love affair.
You’d think as a knight he would already be protective enough, but it only increased tenfold now that the two of you were mates.
He was able to keep it a secret for a while, excusing the issue of scenting you by saying it was for protection, and mating you in secret.
It got a bit harder when your belly started to swell with his pups and all you wanted to do was nest and be mated.
“Mmm!!”
He sighed as you tugged on his shirt, your chubby cheeks puffed out. His hand immediately moved to rest on your swollen belly as he began to groom you.
“What is it, my princess?”
You only whined at him some more, pulling him to your nest. These days he had been spoiling you rotten, unable to leave his precious mate upset in the slightest.
“Wanna mate…”
Your fluffy bunny ears twitches as you tried to get into a position so he could mount you, but lying on your belly wasn’t an option.
He quickly grabbed you by the hips, laying you on your side. “Shh, shh, careful now, my princess… you’re carrying our pups, okay?”
The feeling of his fingers slipping into your fat cunt made your cotton tail wag furiously, and his own tail began to thump against the bed.
“That feels good, princess? Sweet girl getting all wet got me, huh?”
Being stretched out just enough for his cock to slip into you made your body shudder. If he could, your mate would keep you on his knot all day…
Soft whimpers left your lips as he tried to be gentle with you, the tight grip on his hips telling you how much he was restraining himself from pounding into your sweet pussy.
Your scent was so intense now that you were pregnant, he couldn’t help knotting you within minutes. If anyone knew how often he had the princess of their kingdom blubbering in pleasure as he bounces you on his knot, they’d be shocked.
His claw circled your swollen belly. In reality, he feared his pups may be persecuted once they were born due to him not being of royal blood…
“My princess… I love you more than anything, you know… but some people wouldn’t want us to be together.”
The fog keeping your mind fuzzy cleared at his words, and your eyes twitched nervously. “Why? I love you, you’re my mate…”
You were too innocent, unaware of the implications of being impregnated by a commoner like him.
“I am, my princess… but they want to take you away from me. They are beginning to become suspicious of your growing belly and our close relationship…”
When tears began to fall down your chubby cheeks, he cursed under his breath. He felt terrible for being so selfish, putting you in harms way because he wanted something he wasn’t supposed to have… you.
“N-no, I wanna stay with you! You’re all I know…”
As you cried and sniffled, he licked your cheek before pulling you closer to him.
“Shh, shh… oh my love, don’t you know I am your knight? No need for years, they can never take you away from me. I will fight for our love until my body gives out.”
He sat up, causing you to whine and reach for him. “My love, if you want us to stay together, we must leave before your pregnancy is uncovered.”
Your bunny ears flicked, and you looked up at him with your teary eyes. “Are you asking me to run away with you?”
He pulled you to your feet, helping you stand on your wobbly, post breeding session legs.
“Will you?”
You answered by clinging to him and butting your head against him affectionately. After scooping you up, he covered your soft cheeks in kisses before setting you on your bed.
“Sleep, my dear. I’ll take care of all of the preparations.”
With that, he tucked you in, leaving the room to prepare for your future together.
He would have you, and no one would get in the way of his love for his princess.
After all, a knight was supposed to protect his princess and make sure they remained happy.
And you were happy in his arms…
Part 2?
———————
NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree
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you can argue it’s just a matter of “wrong place wrong time!!” “maturity comes w age” “the circumstances didn’t align” but sometimes it really boils down to that the person did not think you were worth changing over. to be clear, i absolutely do not think that someone should change for anyone but themself—but let’s not pretend that some people have not become better bc they did not want someone to walk out on them. and when you’re the one whom the other person decided they’d rather lose than go through the discomfort of change to keep?? it’s like you literally always had the potential to improve & make this work but you just chose not to. at least not for me
someone refusing to grow up and be mature and hold themself accountable for you hurts enough as it is. but them going and doing it for someone else??? that is literally a whole other level of pain
#seeing my ex next weekend at the bonfire because of course nothing can just be fun and stress free#not gonna let him ruin this for me bc the girl who’s hosting it took off to med school and i haven’t seen her in a long time#and she’s very dear to me#but she was telling me ab how he’s a much better person now + the influence his gf had on him#won’t believe it until i see it but it’s still like oh ok. you had it in you not to be a shitty person and yet chose to be#bc you didn’t care enough about me#cool 👍#i’m over him as a person i think it’s just the principle of the situation that bothers me#like he always had the potential to be a decent person but didn’t wanna put the effort in for me bc he deemed me unworthy#people cherry pick which people they’ll show up for but like shouldn’t you be a good person across the board#especially when his main issue was communication . like i wouldn’t want someone to be in a relationship they don’t wanna be in#i just want them to respect me enough to go about it right vs the messy way he went about it#there needs to be respect even in the posthumous state of a relationship. WHATEVER#p
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Looooving the Laios content!!!! If you have any nsfw headcanons for him we would love to hear those too👀
<3 i tried to keep it as gn as possible. reader is on the receiving end
laios wouldn’t really be interested in sexual things unless you ask him about it.
getting intimate with him would have to happen at random or unplanned.
he’s really just content with kissing and hugging you, he’s never once thought of sex. one kiss is enough to get him so high and happy.
please makeout with this man, it gets him going. he loves your lips, the way you hum into his mouth, and the gentle caresses you leave on his arm while you do.
your first makeout session gets him hard. normally, you two only exchange sweet kisses and touches, so he was shocked when you decided to crawl over his lap to hold his face better.
his mind explodes from there.
he’s a whimperer, please guys agree with me on this. a lot of quiet gasps and surprised voice cracks are gonna come out of him.
“mmf… nghh… mMph-!”
he loves it when you tug on his hair, when your fingers dig into his roots and firmly pulling it back while you grind down at him.
laios likes putting his hands around your body, he embraces you while moaning into your mouth, eager for more of your taste.
dont get me started with the whole “taste” thing.
this man loves to eat, we all know that. but he loves to eat you.
the first time is awkward, as he’s not sure where he’s allowed to touch you and he’s quite hesitant.
“i just… don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”
“laios, i’ll tell you if i don’t like it, okay?
you’re both learning each other’s bodies, and after much reassurance he leans in and nips at your neck.
he’s a… mouthy person. loves sucking on your skin, biting your ear (gently of course), moaning into your shoulder. one thing he loves to do, which isn’t inherently sexual, is to wrap his arms around you while nosing and kissing the skin between your jaw to your shoulder.
he trails his lips all over you, making you giggle and moan at the same time. he just likes feeling you out tbh
laios is def girthy, nothing extreme, just a bit thicker than you’d realize. he’s kind of shy at first, no one has ever seen him like this so he doesn’t know if he’s considered “sexy” or attractive
until now, he paid no mind to his body, didn’t care if people found him hot or anything, but he’s suddenly embarrassed when its you.
“i-is it good enough…?”
“you’re literally bigger than 4 of my fingers combined.”
but yes, please praise this man. tell him you love him and that he’s beautiful.
laios eats up the praise, he has a dopey smile on his face and a blush on his cheeks. he loves knowing that he can satisfy you, it makes him feel fulfilled.
once you actually get to it, his body was trembling from the heat and warmth. he moans shakily while nuzzling his face into your hair, murmuring about how good you feel and how much he loves you.
he’s really loud. he’ll moan in your ear with no hesitation and you tease him about it afterwards.
aftercare with him is comfy and cozy. you both are spent as you cuddle into each other, basking in the afterglow.
he has such a loving gaze, he looks so much like a big puppy that it makes your heart melt.
“that… was really good.” he sighs, lips nuzzled into your hair. pulling back from his chest, you rub his cheeks as you relax into the pillows, staring up at him with a smug face. “i can tell. with the way you came after 10 seconds.”
“please don’t.” he groans.
don’t worry, after a few times he will memorize all the sensitive spots in your body and get you to cum a thousand more.
laios has good stamina and he can go for at least 2 or 3 more rounds. if you’re too tired, he’ll use his remaining energy to carry you to the bathroom and wash you both off.
will unintentionally get hard while he’s cleaning you, so please forgive him for that. he’s just really attracted to you lmao
“next time maybe you can try pulling my hair.” you lean back against his chest in the tub. “or maybe a tug?”
“i don’t know… i wouldn’t wanna accidentally hurt you.”
“……”
“…”
“laios are you hard right now?”
“i’m sorry.”
after that, you both will have a relaxing routine of drying each other’s hair and brushing your teeth before sleeping.
laios is eager to learn more about your body and he’s genuinely excited to figure out what gets you going. 100/10 lover, he can’t wait to go again.
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#dunmeshi#laios x reader#laios touden#laios touden x reader#dungeon meshi x reader#delicious in dungeon x reader#dunmeshi x reader#delicious in dungeon smut#dungeon meshi smut
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(𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞) 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧
Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore. 3k, fem. requested here ♡
cw shy(ish)!reader, misunderstandings, steve being a huge sweetheart, fluff, hurt/comfort, bonus fluff scene
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
The arcade is loud and brisk this evening, doors thrown open to allow for the constant ebb and flow of younglings, the machine music turned up to account for so many voices. You’re lost in a sea of rainbow flashing lights and the ticklish smell of sugar. Without Steve’s hand behind your shoulder, you’re pretty sure you would’ve gotten lost and trampled half an hour ago.
A candy necklace pinwheels past your heads like a torpedo, forcing you closer together, your shoulders tight with a flinch.
“We can leave,” Steve says immediately. He’s weirdly thoughtful. Before he asked you out you had no idea he thought so much about other people, but he’s always thinking about other people. You could argue he thinks a little too much, like you.
“I wanna see Max.”
“She has to be here somewhere.”
That theory proves less and less likely. Steve’s hand falls away from you, tugging through his hair in a marker of stress as you circle the Palace Arcade for the tenth time. “Maybe she quit?” you suggest.
Steve’s eyebrows pinch together as he gives the arcade another sweep. Max’s rough patch freaked him out, as it freaked you out, because ‘rough patch’ is a kind way to describe it. She could’ve got a whole lot worse; she was suffering, capital S. It’s nice to see her returning to society, but not if she isn’t actually settling in. That’s the whole reason you’re here.
Steve frowns at you worriedly.
“Who died?” asks a new voice.
You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Max!” Steve cheers.
“That’s me,” Max says, looking at you both sceptically. Her ginger hair is pulled into two tight braids either side of her face, her cheeks flushed red. Mascara paints her usually pale lashes a darker brown, and a rosy tinted chapstick shines on her lips.
“Hey, the uniform looks good on you,” he says affectionately. “You look like a valued member of society.”
“A society in need of better labour laws. I’m pretty sure this is child abuse.” She rolls her eyes.
“Is it awful?” you ask.
“It’s fine. Better when your stupid friends aren’t here making themselves sick on candy like they’re nine years old,” she says pointedly to Steve. “Are you going to throw up too? You look–” she grimaces in place of insult.
“Who’s throwing up?” you ask.
“Dustin. He’s outside.”
Steve sighs and gives your shoulder a kind squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he says, squaring his expression. “Goddamn kids.”
He sounds like an old man, you think to yourself with a small smile. Disgruntled, he still goes to make sure everyone’s alright. He’s nice, even when that nice is begrudging and tiresome and plain gross sometimes.
“Why are you smiling at him like that?” Max asks.
You school your impression. “Like what?”
“Like you like him.”
You shake your head. “Tell me about work, Max. What’s it like here? Are they giving you your breaks?”
She drags you over to the counter to sit in the seat waiting behind. She glares at any kid who approaches, but besides that she seems in good spirits. The job isn’t hard, it’s just a job. She’d much rather be at home reading, but wouldn’t everyone? “And I get this sweet uniform,” she says, pointing at the embroidered icon on her shirt pocket. “What’s with you and Steve?”
“Nothing,” you say, though it’s something. You’re mortified to have been caught having feelings.
“Looks like something. Are you dating?”
“I mean, this is a date,” you say, almost whispering as heat floods your face. “But we’re not together.”
“He was touching you a lot.”
“Max, he’s really nice. He’s a really nice guy,” you say gently, “and we’re not together, but if he does ask me out eventually, maybe I’ll say yes.” You realise what you’re saying and attempt to backtrack —you do like Steve, but Max doesn’t need to know that. “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” you say strangely.
“Ew,” Max says with a laugh.
“Not ew,” you correct. You hadn’t meant it in a bad way, it’s—
“Not ew,” Steve says from behind you, his arm a heavy weight across your shoulder.
You look wide-eyed up at his face, surprised by his huge beaming smile, an intense loveliness about him as he gives you a half hug.
“What’s ew about that?” he asks you softly.
Oh, boy, you think.
As it turns out, being Steve’s girlfriend is kind of nice, but you aren’t ready.
From that afternoon at the Palace Arcade onward, he treats you like you’re made of gold. And it’s great, he’s so kind, he brings you flowers and takes you out for breakfast, where he pays the tab without any flourishes and talks to you as casually as always. You almost hope he hasn’t got it wrong at all, and that his soft tone a few days ago had been down to a brief overwhelming fondness. You’d get that. You have your moments with him, you’re falling for him, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re desperately in love, you’re sure, but then the waitress asks if you need anything else and he says, “Just a water for my girl,” and you realise you’re not getting off easy.
Dating is sort of like being good friends; you’d planned to spend the day together anyways. You enjoy his company. It’s clear he’s eager, optioning off the day’s agenda as you return to the car, the bottom of your face hidden in your bouquet.
“We could go to the movies,” he says, opening the passenger door, his smile seemingly permanent as you climb inside. “No science fiction, I promise.”
“I kind of like sci-fi.” Petals press fragrant to your top lip.
“Well, we don’t have to go to the Hawk. We could go into the city. I bet they’re playing any movie you wanna see.” He checks that your leg is properly inside the car before he closes the door, jogging around to the driver’s side and practically throwing himself inside. He’s giggling like a kid. “Shit, I’ll see anything you want to.”
“Steve.”
“Or we can go do nothing? Until dinner.”
“Steve,” you say again, thinking you’ll tell him. Nothing good ever comes from dishonesty.
“What?” he asks.
His eyes are so brown. Billions of people with brown eyes and you swear you’ve never seen anything like it before, their centres like hot honey, the sweetheart shape to them when he smiles
You sigh. His smile is contagious, even while your stomach hurts. “Nothing. Let’s go see a movie.”
“Are you okay?”
“What?”
“What do you mean, what? You sounded weird.”
“I sounded weird?”
“No!” He winces. “I mean, yeah, you sounded weird for you, like you… I don’t know. Sorry.”
You feel bad, then. His apology is earnest, his hand resting open on the console for you to take if you could manage the flustering heat of it.
“I wanna go to the movies,” you say, ‘cos you really do.
“Alright, good. It’s just, I think my last relationship, I– I didn’t pay enough attention, and I want to do that better this time around. So yeah. Sorry.”
Oh, Steve, you think. How are you supposed to tell him now? You’re gonna have to pretend to be ready for a relationship with him until you really are, it seems. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart played with twice.
“Don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “Let’s go watch a movie, okay? I want to go, with you, we’ll watch a shitty daytime flick and then get dinner after. It’ll be fun.”
You aren’t lying to him about what you want. It’s clear to everybody, Steve and his friends and especially you, that you like him, that you want to be around him and make him laugh. Maybe being his girlfriend won’t even be that different to being his something.
After all, what’s romantic about seeing a movie?
“You good?” he asks, half an hour later, your agony prolonged.
You’re at the back of the movies where the seats have the most leg room, more popcorn and candy than you could ever eat at your feet and a litre cup stuffed into the armrest between you. Steve is tucking his shirt back into his jeans, his head parting the light of the projector and leaving a silhouette in the previews.
“Steve,” you advise, gesturing for him to lean down out of the way.
He leans down, further and further, face to face with you with his hands on his hips. A flirtatious teasing makes its way onto his lips. “What?” he asks, amused.
“You were in the way of the light.”
“That what it was?”
“Seriously!” you whisper-shout, laughing despite yourself.
“You’re so cute,” he whispers back. “Want to take your jacket off?”
Your lips part at his good suggestion. You hold your arm out and start to peel from your jacket, but he takes your sleeve and helps you out of it before folding it and sitting in the seat next to you, your jacket on his thigh. “How’s that, babe?” he asks.
“It’s good.”
“Okay, perfect.” He beams at you. He’s always smiling when he’s with you, like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Like he loves you. “Tell me if you need something, yeah? I know you’re kinda shy.”
He settles back in his seat with your jacket still in his lap and no indication that he might want to move it. Your knees touch as he relaxes, your knuckles as he puts his arm on the rest between you, a picture of contentedness as the movie begins and the opening credits play. “That’s us,” he says without looking at you.
Two people walk down the street holding hands as the title of the movie blazes in yellow font with thick red outlines. A Day In Paradise!
You bite down on a slither of the inside of your lip until it stings. You try to fight it off but the longer you sit there, the more your eyes burn, thinking about Steve and what he deserves and how unfortunate this whole thing is, and yeah, you’re overwhelmed, too. You aren’t ready for so much sweetness all at once. You don’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve this.
You force the tears away. The movie goes on and on, the lights low, the chatter of moviegoers and the occasional popcorn crush not nearly loud enough to cover the sound of Steve’s breathing.
He pushes his hair out of his face. Somebody on screen makes a joke, his hand brushes against yours, and then takes it gently as he laughs.
You pull your hand away and tip your head down, a frantic tear flicking from your lashes.
“You okay?” he whispers.
You try to answer. You whimper instead, a terrible, sorry sound stuck to your throat —you can’t hold it in anymore. It’s too much.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble tearily, looking up, a tear rolling fast down the bump of your cheek.
Steve sits still in moderate horror. “Why are you crying?” he whispers.
The thing about Steve that people tend to forget is that, while he takes care of people the best that he can, he’s really young. He doesn’t always know what to do. He stares at you now like you’re a foreign object, hand tucked back into his abdomen.
A tear drips onto your lip. It tastes salty. “Sorry,” you say.
“Why?” he asks, dumbfounded.
“I really like you, Steve.”
He stares at you. “…But?”
“But I–” His frown hurts your heart. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this, I never– never had someone like me like this, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You say that last part to yourself rather than him, scrubbing your cheeks with your hands roughly before hiding your face completely. “It’s not you.”
“I thought…” And of course he did.
“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry, Steve. I thought it wouldn’t matter but everything’s going so fast.”
He touches your arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you wanted this. You– you said I was your boyfriend, to Max? I thought you liked me.”
“I do like you,” you insist, meeting his eyes.
“Can I wipe your tears away? They’re everywhere,” he says. You struggle to read his expression, but there’s no resentment or anger there for you. He looks quite serious.
“Yeah.”
Steve bends in his seat to wipe your tears off of your face gently. They really are everywhere, on your cheeks, your top lip, your chin, even down the arc of your neck. “I don’t understand,” he says, going back to your cheek for a missed streak, “but you don’t have to be upset. Please. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, I promise.”
“Steve, when I was talking to Max, I said,” —you wince— “that it’s not like you’re my boyfriend. She was asking me about you, and I got all panicky because I like you, but I’m too weird about this stuff, I’m panicking now–”
“Don’t.” His hand lingers on your face, before a sorry flash of dejection passes over him, and he drops your face altogether.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me.”
“Of course I believe you.” He grimaces at you, and the heartbreak turns to something more manageable, like he’s brushing himself off. “I’m sorry. For getting the wrong idea.”
“I like you,” you whisper. Your voice is nearly lost to the rustle of popcorn and drinks.
“I like you too!” he says loudly.
A few seats down, somebody turns, an angry whirl of hair and clicky nails. “Can you guys shut up?”
You and Steve leave your mountain of snacks behind to stand in the theatre hallway, where the winter air is cool on your flushed skin, and the silence is stifling. You lean against a wood feature wall and try to calm down, because he’s the one who should be upset (or maybe he’s not that fussed about you). He stands a half foot away with his arms crossed, looking down at his shoes, though occasionally he glances at you for a split-second and looks away again.
“You okay?” he asks tightly.
“I’m sorry.”
He pokes his cheek with his tongue. “So you don’t want to be together?”
You don’t know. He deserves the truth, even if you barely understand it yourself, and it stings to say. “I do, I like you, but I… I want to take things slowly.”
He stands there without talking for a while. When he does talk again, he’s laughing, that achy awful sadness he’d worn a far off memory. “You’re this upset because you want us to take things slow?”
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
“You haven’t,” he promises. “That would never hurt my feelings. I knew when I heard it that it was too good to be true.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I gotta earn the title like everybody else does. Is that… cool?”
You nod vehemently.
Steve blows a relieved breath of air up his face, his hair ruffling off of his forehead. “I thought I was gonna lose you completely,” he says, smiling. “This is fine. I can work with slow. Slow’s my middle name.”
—♡—
The sun is a blistering heat today. “Can’t believe it’s only spring,” you murmur, eyes covered by the back of your arm.
A weight sits down on the blanket beside you, the sound of dry grass crushed underfoot. He brings the fresh scent of lemon slices with him, the zest sticking to his hands.
“I think I might melt.”
“I’d never let that happen,” Steve says, laying down beside you.
“You can be my parasol.”
“Your what?”
“It’s a sun umbrella.”
“Like this?” he asks, gently laying himself across your front, his face on the slip of your stomach that’s bare, his arms sneaking behind your thighs to hug them as you bring them up.
You reach down to stroke his hair, taking your fingers through the silky lengths of it, fingernails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. “Thanks,” you say.
He kisses your naked leg. “You’re welcome, honey.”
If he’d done that at the beginning of your relationship, you’d have frozen up; not because he would’ve done it differently, not because he wasn't always your handsome sweetheart, but because being comfortable with someone this intimately takes time, and that’s okay.
“Your face is digging into my hip,” you murmur.
He shifts back, his ear above your belly button. “Is that better?”
“That’s perfect.”
“Are you falling asleep?” he asks softly.
“No… I’m thinking.”
“Nothing good ever comes of that.”
“I have something I want to talk to you about.”
“I love talking to you,” he says. He sounds as though he might fall asleep himself, his tongue heavy in his mouth.
You stroke his hair away from his face by touch alone. Long, warm minutes pass without conversation. You aren’t scared to tell him how you’re feeling. He’s proved to you over time that he’s someone you’ll always be able to trust, and that whatever you have to say will hold weight.
“It’s a question.”
He turns in your hold to face you. You raise your arm, greeted by the image of him sun-kissed and lazing, laid out across you without a care in the world.
“Don’t tell me then,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, you’re terrifying.”
“Would you wanna be my boyfriend?”
He narrows his eyes at you. A myriad of emotions pass between you both, until he’s smiling, and you know he’s sitting up for a kiss seconds before he actually does. He presses his lips to yours carefully. “Baby,” he says as he pulls away, voice as mild as his soft kiss, “I think we’ve passed that point.”
“I realised I’d never asked you, is all.”
His hair falls down into his eyes. You tuck it behind his ear. It’s pretty clear now you’re together, even after such a bumpy start.
“Can I get it in writing this time?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering closed in tandem.
“Give you anything you want if you kiss me,” you murmur.
His laugh fans over your lips. He cups your cheek, your heart a hummingbird drilling at your ribs as Steve moves in to kiss you properly. Your lips part under the pressure, your head tilting a touch to one side to accommodate him as he searches down for you, melty hot pleasure and nerves that never seem to fade arising as his thumb moves up your cheek, a semi-circle of touch. It promises undulating care whenever you want it.
You tip your head aside to catch your breath.
“Better late than never,” you joke.
Steve talks into the soft skin beside your mouth. “You weren’t late, babe. I was early, and I didn’t mind waiting.”
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank u for reading!! pretty please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed cos it means so much to me and inspires me to write even more!!! but either way i hope u enjoyed❤️❤️❤️
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#stranger things#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fic#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington drabble
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When the turtle incident at the beach happens the reader gets hurt saving the turtle 🐢 and rafe snap. Everyone sees a different side of rafe
a/n: i LOVE this idea. - Unfortunately i feel like i didn’t do it justice 🥲🥲 but hope you enjoy!! <3
“if i ever see you round my girl again…”
pairings: s4 rafe cameron x kook but not kooky!reader [est. relationship]
warnings: S4 E4 SCENE DESCRIBED/USED (not sure if it’s really a spoiler tho as nothing plot wise is revealed) turtles being hurt, blood, death threat, canon rafe lol, use of swear words. (pls lemme know if i forgot any)
summary: you just wanted peace between everyone, unfortunately you and a turtle became collateral damage over a kook vs pogue contest. rafe is not happy…
navigation ⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊˚ ⋅ obx masterlist
You were a kook? Well that’s what your bank account said. However, you were closer with the pogues and basically hung out with them or your boyfriend.. rafe cameron. that was the weird part. It had been awkward since the pogues all returned from El Dorado. You had sort of become the middle man in between rafe and the pogues including his sister, sarah. It was an unspoken rule between you and rafe that you just don’t talk about them with him which you respected. He’ll come around in his own time you thought.
When the swell came in, your boyfriend and his friends were eager to hit the beach and have a surf day to which you wouldn’t turn down. meeting up at tannyhill, you saw that topper had bought his new girlfriend, ruthie who you weren’t too keen on. You had mentioned this to rafe a while back but he said that it isn’t yours or his business to get involved with toppers love life and told you to just stay away from her if you didn’t like her to which you couldn’t argue.
Arriving at the beach you saw your friends, jj, john b, kiara and sarah and quickly told rafe that you were going over to say hi. Rafe just mumbled something as he set up his towel and told you not to be long as he stared daggers at sarah.
“hey!” you wave jogging up to the pogues, hugging sarah then kie. “what’s up y/nn (your nickname)” kie asked. “not much. just thought we’d hit the waves. i told them we should go a bit farther from here but they didn’t listen… sorry” you explained, knowing it’s best if the kooks and pogues don’t cross paths today. “you’re good. it’s them we don’t trust” jj butts in. “yeah, no. i’ll tell them to lay off..” you smile then turn to sarah. “he’s trying. he’ll come around. i know it..” you tell her, referring to rafe. Sarah just shrugs, pretending as if not being on good terms with her brother isn’t bothering her. “wanna surf?” you smile and take sarah’s hand dragging her to the water as you both laugh.
After surfing with sarah and the pogues for a while, you had joined rafe on his towel and spent an hour or so just chilling with him. He showered you in attention and you did your best to ignore ruthies little comments about the pogues and how jj is a poor sport. At one point, rafe saw you side eye ruthie for shitting on the pogues again. “hey. don’t frown.” he mumbles turning your head to face him and pats your cheek. “i don’t get her problem rafe.” you sigh. “yeah it sucks, but cmon” “no. it’s unnecessary. they aren’t doing anything to her.” you tell him, referring to the pogues just minding their business apart from that tiny squabble with jj and topper in the ocean but topper didn’t seem to care too much so why does ruthie? “i told you, ignore her” rafe says a little sternly taking your hand in his, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. “yeah yeah…” you smile as you peck him, letting it go as you didn’t want ruthie to ruin the day.
While you packed up, unknown to you and rafe, ruthie was convincing topper to just ride the truck over to the pogues to mess up their set up. You in the meantime went over to the pogues to say bye, only to find them saving a turtle hatch in which you started assisting with. The next thing you know, you see ruthie driving her truck at a high speed straight at you. While sarah and kie do their best to get the turtles out of the way in time, you stand in front waving your hands trying to get ruthies attention to stop her. “hey! hey!!! stop! there’s a hatch!” you call out but she doesn’t hear you. you can vaguely see topper yell at ruthie, probably to stop but she’s just laughing. kiara notices ruthie has no intention of stopping and quickly pulls you out the way.
Luckily no turtles were hurt at that point but you see ruthie circling around to go again. You stand up again, trying to stop her. Rafe has also noticed this and starts making his way over to get, in his words, your stupid ass out of the way. You realise ruthie yet again has no intention of stopping so you quickly go to pick up a turtle that was in the way but you get hit slightly by the truck, knocking you out.
“what the actual fuck?!” kiara yells rushing to you, she takes the turtles from you and calls for rafe who’s at your side in seconds. He looks up at a shocked, somewhat guilty looking ruthie. “what the fuck is your problem?” he spits “did you not see her fucking standing there telling you to stop!” he yells as he takes off his shirt to wrap around a bloody scrape on your knee from something in the sand. Overall you weren’t too badly hurt but might need some stitches. That was enough for rafe to see red though.
As sarah goes to fetch water to splash you awake, ruthie stutters “i.. i thought she’d get out the way. why would she just fucking stand the-” kie cuts her off “there was a turtle hatch! look what you did! she was tryna save this turtle” kie yells at her, showing her the hurt turtle to which ruthie turns her face away from. “why the fu-” rafe cuts himself off on questioning you to wake you up with the water sarah got. As you felt water being splashed on your face, you sit up. “what happened?” you groan. “y/n im so so sor-” ruthie starts to apologise but rafe cuts her off. “no. you shut the fuck up and stay away from my girl” rafe snaps causing topper to get involved. “hey now rafe-” but again rafe cuts him off. “control your bitch, top” he huffs shutting topper and everyone else up.
He lifts you up and walks towards his truck. “my head hurts..” you mumble. “i know baby.. gonna get you to the hospital aight” he gently whispers to you to which you just nod. With a final “don’t pull shit like that again” from rafe, he places you in the passengers seat before shutting the door and quickly going up to ruthie. “if i ever see you round my girl again… i’ll kill you” he murmurs up close to her face in a terrifyingly dangerous way. Apart from sarah and a few of the pogues, no one has ever seen rafe like that.. so scary.. so threatening… so murderous. Ruthie just nodded which was enough for rafe to leave the scene so he could take you to the hospital.
a/n: hope you enjoyed - kinda struggled to find a way to set the dynamic where reader is dating rafe but close to the pogues at this point in the show cuz i couldn’t see rafes defending someone so furiously unless he was dating her 😭
requests are open!! enjoy lovelies - liv <33
#starkeysbaby#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe obx#rafe cameron imagine#outerbanks s4#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x y/n#obx s4#obx#outerbanks
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