#or b) do something about that painful looking hard-on
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kneazle · 2 days ago
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More of the tsunami fic! Probably the weakest part (in my opinion) but I believe we're coming to a close with this soon maybe one more part? 😊 again thank you to everyone whose shown this love, I appreciate it more than you can imagine 💕
Tags are under the cut but let me know if you want to be removed! (hopefully I didn't miss any of you that wanted to be added!)
part 1 • part 2
Tommy breathed heavily, cold seeping into his bones while his skin broke out in a sweat. It was an odd feeling, and one that didn't bode well for him. 
He didn't know how long passed since he lifted them onto the platform. His leg throbbed when there wasn't pain shooting up it, but he could do no more than he already had at the moment, having used his plaid button-up to stop himself from bleeding out like he was. There's no telling if it would hold, but it was something until he could get Jee to safety.
Tommy glanced down at where she was curled into his side and his heart clenched.
He looked up to the sky and closed his eyes for a brief moment. 
Please just let her be okay, please
The air was tense in the engine on the way to the pier. Worried glances were thrown his and Chimney's way but Buck avoided meeting those gazes.
They were on their way back from a quick call when it came in about the tsunami, everyone holding their breaths at the thought of another one. Buck felt their eyes on him and had grinned sadly, a weak joke about at least he wasn't there this time but not fully meaning it as another tsunami meant people hurt, lives lost. 
Until Chimney made a strangled noise from his seat. Choking out that Jee was at the pier with Tommy. That Tommy volunteered to watch her when Maddie got called in for a shift and their normal babysitter couldn't, and was planning on taking her there.
Buck's chest felt empty and constricting at the same time as Chimney spoke on the phone with Maddie for a few seconds. His worry burrowing inside, steadily growing at the sound of their voices. He didn't say a word but shared a look with Chim– yet what right did he have when this was their child? Bile rose in his throat that he pushed down, hands clenching. Jee and Tommy were god knows where and in what state, but Buck would do anything to trade places with them at this moment.
"Uncle Tommy Uncle Tommy!"
Tommy's eyes shot open, blinking rapidly at Jee's shouting and shoves. Fuck. He internally cursed at himself for not staying focused, having felt drowsy– no doubt an infection but there was no time to think more on it.
"Look!" 
He sucked in a breath. A boy of about seven or eight was coming their way yelling and crying for help, holding onto a board that was barely keeping him afloat. Tommy saw this little boy with soaked curls, wet black glasses that slid down his nose– and Tommy turned to Jee, "Stay right there Jee don't move!" He told her quickly.
Tommy jumped back into the water and grunted against the pain as he swam out enough, grabbing for the boy as soon as he was in reach. 
He didn't hesitate to cling to Tommy who held the young boy to him. "I got you buddy, I got you, hang on alright?"
Relief slammed into him so hard when they were all on the platform and Jee didn't move an inch, that Tommy let a tear escape mixing with the wetness of the water. Fear clawed its way in his chest.
"Thank you!" The boy coughed out, body giving a big shiver as his lower lip trembled.
"What's your name kid?" Tommy asked softly. "I'm Tommy and this is my best buddy Jee."
He rubbed at his nose, wiping water from his eyes. "D-Danny."
"Alright Danny, can I know who you came here with?" 
"My b-big brother, he- he got pulled away." Danny whimpered, and Tommy could have cried the way Jee scooted closer, her little hand coming to hold Danny's slightly bigger one.
Tommy wrapped two terrified children in his hold, trying to stay awake and focused on them and not the feeling of his body fighting for sleep with the piercing throbbing pain spreading through him.
Fear wasn't new to him– but this was an entirely new kind of fear he realized.
@not-as-straight-as-i-appear @todd-harper @klutzygirl @eliotwaughdeservesbetter @bidisasterevankinard @comfortingevanbuckley @laundryandtaxesworld @tommykinard @sherlockismarvelous9-1-1 @mmso-notlikethat @iphyslitterator @racerchix21 @a-mel0n @station18908 @beckym2001 @bi-bi-buckleys @loulou-land @tommykinard6 @beanarie @fuselsstuff @chococara25 @owlgirl495 @thestrangestthlng @buckleyskinards @nznaturalkiwi @daughterofscotland @livelaughlou @hyperfocusthusly @teabroomsandbooks @thecarrott @tistai
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bedupolker · 1 day ago
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PLAYLIST. @viv13drainbow I think if you like that song in particular you'd also really enjoy Summer Salt, Little Joy, and Babe Rainbow for chill beach-y rock (not included). Commentary below:
The Blue Album - The album to start all albums, the album that launched weezer to success. Many hail this as their best album (I love this album but respectfully disagree) but nonetheless it's an essential for weezer fans and alt rock fans as a whole. Plenty of people who know way more about music than I do have praised blue album at length, and it's a funny meme nowadays too. Of course say it ain't so is an all-time classic, a heart-wrenching look into Rivers's relationship with alcoholism and his parental figures. I dunno if anything on the blue album can be called a proper deep cut, but only in dreams is an overlooked gem, and probably my favorite outro in their whole discography. Hopeful but somber, that slow buildup a the end to the guitar solo. Suzanne is a nice B-side.
Pinkerton - the infamous Pinkerton. Their sophomore album. Their breakdown album. Although weezer's not exactly an emo band, this album is often credited to being influential to the genre as a whole. No two people have the same experience with love or breakups, and one of the beautiful things about art is that we can see an experience through anothers' eyes, but I don't think I can think of a more painfully relatable album than this one. The balancing act of portraying its sympathetically-unsympathetic protagonist as equal parts pathetic and lonely while also entitled and aggressive. Some of the vocals are so raw for a second you see the monster in the five foot six, nerdy, physically disabled, lead singer that he sees himself as. Hard for me to pick a favorite standalone song off this one; the good life is a funky jam that wouldn't be out of place next to wheatus or RCHP's tracks, but that's where all the funk ends. Why bother? is a driving, catchy song that starts to show the cracks of his depression, falling for you is full of emotion, and if you get your hands on the deluxe edition, tragic girl.
Green album - At its time of release, Pinkerton was not received well. Creating such a raw, personal piece of art is hard. It's like the artistic version of getting crazy drunk, pouring your heart out, feeling catharsis for a moment, then realizing you'll have to deal with it all the next day. A lot of people interpret island in the sun as a happy song, but to me it's the tylenol after that night of drinking, a lie to tell yourself just to get through the day. It has a peaceful rhythm and brings to mind a tropical paradise, but there's something undeniably melancholy beneath the sunshine and smiles. You've tried to face your pain and you barely escaped alive, maybe you're better off just ignoring it. (That being said, although the damage has been done, Pinkerton has later been reevaluated and is now as widely praised as the Blue Album amongst music critics, and Rivers himself has made peace with that phase in his life.)
Maladroit - Overall this album is rather overlooked. It leans a bit more heavily into the rock aspect compared to green album, yet the lyrics remain impersonal and goofy. It's still not a bad album, though doesn't reach the heights of the first two. The singles, Dope Nose & Keep Fishing are both solid, but Burndt Jamb is my personal favorite. A little beach-y, probably their Stroke-y est song, (the band, not the medical emergency), it's been a mainstay on several of my chill out playlists for years now.
Make Believe - Probably one of their most hated albums by fans. It has the infamously shallow and poppy beverly hills, but you know what? I'm a Make Believe Defender. I truly think it could've been a great album, maybe even on par with Pinkerton. Not because of the album itself, but the demos. Haunt you Everyday is solid on the final product but rips at my heartstrings in this demo, ditto for tell me what you did (different name on the final product), everybody wants a chance to be alone (I said burndt jamb was their strokiest song but I think it might actually be this one) purple flowers (lyrics are a little rough but the melody, the meloncholy... so good) Actually on that note, weezer has, like, multiple album's worth of unreleased content that's miles better than anything on a published album (Link for one of my favorite fan compilations). Yes, the lyrics sound like something I wrote in my diary after a breakup, but that makes them all the more real. A deep dive into weezer will reveal the terrifying truth we've all been blind to: weezer never got bad.
Red Album - Mixed feelings on this one. It was produced by Rick Rubin, industry titan and famous for bringing bands "back from the dead," he's produced more than one of my all time favorite albums. Red is not one of them unfortunately. It has its fans though. Pork and Beans is fun.
Raditude, Hurley, Death to False Metal - Skipping these bc I don't care abt them
Everything will be alright in the end - To fans, this was their first "good" album since Maladroit, maybe since Pinkerton (12 years prior!) depending on who you ask. Although it wasn't as commercially successful as some others, it's a very strong album. Really, what is it about rock bands forgetting they're rock bands then suddenly returning to releasing rock music and magically being good again?? I'm looking @ you too, fall out boy. I have a hard time picking a really standout song- it's one of those albums that's evenly good throughout, no skips, but no obvious standouts either. Da Vinci is fun.
White Album - A fantastic album. You can hear some pretty heavy beach boys influence in this one. Unlike EWBAITE it has a few skips for me, but the highs are very high. Speaking of high. Do you wanna get high has to be my favorite off this one, Endless Bummer could be a sequel to island in the sun, Summer Elaine and Drunk Dori is just good clean weezy fun.
Pacific Daydream - I'm a Pacific Daydream defender. Check out QB blitz. Weekend Woman is flawed, but fun too, the bridge really makes it for me. Very evocative of Good Vibrations by the beach boys.
Teal Album - Oh god a cover album. No Scrubs is probably the only one really worth checking out if nothing else to hear a geeky white guy say "A scrub is a guy who thinks he's fly" like he's reading it out of a dictionary. (TLC, who wrote and performed the original song, allegedly got a kick out of it)
Black Album & Van Weezer - I don't care about these either. Damnit I thought we were gonna be good again!
Ok Human - A good album!! What a relief. Could you imagine how embarrassing it would be to name yourself as a homage such a groundbreaking radiohead album and have it be.... bad??? I particularly love this one because in some ways it feels like it's his most personal album since Pinkerton- only instead of being an honest dialogue from a horribly lonely and isolated 20 year old student, it's a much more well adjusted, happily married, 50 year old father who is subject to both optimism and ennui. And it rocks! In a soft, subdued way. The songs flow into each other so nicely, the first three in the album debatably are my favorite 3-song-run in their discog. Aloo Gobi and Grapes of Wrath especially. The transition from dark and somber Dead Roses to light and upbeat Here Comes the Rain never gets old to me. This album (alongside MGMT's little dark age and The Stroke's The New Abnormal) was also like my essential Coronavirus holy trinity.
Spring/Summer/Fall/Winter - This is a compilation of 4 EP's, one of each released during their respective seasons in 2022. I think it's solid all around, with Summer being the strongest. Records and Blue Like Jazz are both very catchy, Thank you and Goodnight... just wait for the outro, trust me.
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devildomwriter · 7 hours ago
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They Go With You When You Need to Get Your Blood Drawn: Headcanons
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“Hey, I have to get some blood drawn at the doctor’s and it makes me really uncomfortable, any chance you can please come with me?”
Lucifer
• “Yes of course.”
• Holds your hand and gives you reassuring looks the whole time. Has to stop from chuckling when you laugh nervously or get chilled by the alcoholic wipes.
• He gently holds you afterward and buys you a treat as a reward for bravery.
Mammon
• “Yikes, that sucks. Sure thing!”
• He ends up fainting and you laugh so hard you don’t even notice the blood draw until it’s already over.
• You have to take him home and he’s so embarrassed you agree not to mention it if he buys you a treat and he happily agrees (he loves spoiling you)
Leviathan
• “Big oof. But yeah I’ll come.”
• You watch him play with his handheld to avoid looking at any needles.
• He’s still very nervous for you and after is over he looks at your blood in the vials and somehow feels jealous so decides to spoil you as a result and buy you dinner.
Satan
• “Of course I’ll come along.”
• He plays you cat videos to distract you and pass the time.
• He tells you how brave you are and how calm—as he himself hates needles and appointments
• He takes you out for food afterward, no matter what it is you want.
Asmodeus
• “Eek! You poor dear! Of course, I’ll come support you!”
• He’s a tiny psychopath but regardless blood still freaks him out, at least when it’s yours so he nearly faints.
• You get poked by the needle because everyone is too busy watching him so to make it up to you he takes you to the spa for some rejuvenation.
Beelzebub
• “Blood…umm, sure.”
• He can’t look at the blood either or he starts to drool so he’s in the corner of the room stuffing burgers in his mouth (which is against the no-food rule but they allow him just this once)
• He takes you out to eat afterwards, he needs meat but you can get whatever you want on him.
Belphegor
• “Yeah I don’t mind. Do I need to stay awake?”
• He falls asleep so quickly that the doctors are more concerned about him and you’re so amused watching them that you don’t even realize they’ve finished up.
• You drive him home and he feels bad he fell asleep so will find a way to make it up to you.
Solomon
• “Why certainly. When and where?”
• He puts a spell on you for you to avoid feeling pain or discomfort and he holds your hand for the duration.
• He’s very proud of his apprentice for handling themselves in such an uncomfortable situation.
Simeon
• “Oh dear, of course, I’ll come with you.”
• He gives you an angelic blessing so you’ll be completely calm and he silently hums and rubs your hand to distract you.
• Simeon heals the tiny wound immediately afterward and thanks the staff as he takes you home to relax while he makes you some cake.
Luke
• “B-B-B-Blood!? Y-Yes of course I won’t let you go alone!”
• Luke’s freaked out by the whole process and his reactions are so over the top you don’t even react yourself.
• You buy him ice cream later because he’s so woozy from watching that. He later returns the favor by making you something sweet to eat (with no red dye)
Raphael
• “You owe them blood? Do they need to be dealt with?”
• After explaining what the blood draw was and why you needed it he went with you but was on guard around the needles and watching the doctors very closely.
• He doesn’t know what else to do so he hums to help sooth your worry.
Michael
• “Certainly dear, you have nothing to fear.”
• He gives you a blessing as well as all the doctors to ensure everything goes perfectly. He keeps you distracted by asking about Lucifer and his brothers.
• He’s in a good mood from the new information he’s obtained on Lucifer and his brother’s antics so he’ll grant any request you make of him.
Thirteen
• “Gross, humans need to give blood? Sure thing though, you can count on me.”
• You watch her amused as she fiddles with a project the whole time, apparently it’s supposed to be a more fun way to draw blood so you’re more worried about that than the needle in your arm.
• She later tries to show you how her new device works so you have to warn Solomon.
Mephistopheles
• “I can get you a better doctor.”
• After getting him to go to your doctor with you he keeps a skeptical eye on everything, mildly impressed with human technology.
• He talks your ear off about the most recent scoop he’s investigating for the RAD Newspaper as a means to distract you.
• He takes you somewhere extravagant afterward to make you forget about the unnerving medical appointment earlier.
Barbatos
• “As you wish. I’ll ensure you don’t feel a thing.”
• Barbatos lovingly stays glued to your side, very watchful of everyone. He gives you a tea beforehand that makes you dull to pain and discomfort so you fall asleep on the ride home, never bothered by the blood and needles.
Diavolo
• “Oh no! Yes, I’ll be right there with you! We can get ice cream after.”
• Diavolo is worried for you but he’s hiding it and making you laugh by laughing at ridiculous things (his laugh is very contagious)
• True to his word he buys you ice cream or whatever you want after and tells you how proud he is of you and how brave you are.
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yoonjae20 · 8 hours ago
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Ric(hard) Fenton; Part 1
(Once again slightly inspired by @saltymarshmall0w 's prompt.)
Read on ao3.
Masterpost.
“B, didn’t you promise us as you’d tell if there was a possibility of another secret child?” Tim asks as he stares at the black haired boy, who looks like he had been to hell and back to get here, with blue eyes — because of course, they are blue —  in front of the Manor’s door. 
He can’t help but feel unnerved by the way the boy evaded their security measures and how he hasn’t said a single word since Tim opened the door even when he can see the boy’s hands tremble.
“Yes?” Bruce's voice floats from further in the Manor, his barely audible gaunt drawing near.
“Then who the hell is this?” he asks just as the man turns the corner. He freezes at the sight of the kid, literally blue screening as he takes him in. 
“Actually he’s mine,” a too chipper voice announces and Tim nearly jumps out of skin as he turns to Dick.
The young man must see both Tim and Bruce doing the mental calculations in their heads because he interrupts before they can draw the wrong conclusions.
“If Bruce can go around adopting children, I can do the same.” Then he turns to the boy. “You can come in, Danny.” 
Tim is eerily reminded of a wary, frightened cat as the boy — Danny moves inside. His steps are too silent for a mere civilian. 
Bruce and Tim share a look and Tim knows that they are both asking themselves when Dick met the boy and why he never mentioned him with how familiar he acts around him as he easily tucks him into his side. 
Although neither of them wants to accept it, Dick has changed since the one year where he disappeared without a trace. He’d told them that he was shot leading to him to lose his memories and that he only retained his memories a few days before he came back, but Tim always had a feeling the older man was not telling the whole truth, hiding it behind an easy-going smile. He didn’t speak a single word about what happened during that year, claiming he didn’t remember much of it ever since his memories returned.
Not only that, but it had become even rarer than before that any of them would meet Dick at the manor (even Jason was at the Manor more often) — and when he was present he was always studying them with an intense stare as if he was searching for something in their expressions.
“Dick,” Bruce starts but the man waves him off.
“Later,” he says. “I need to see if I have any fresh clothes for Danny.”
Dick pulls the boy away and they head up the stairs. Tim gives it a minute before he follows, nodding at Bruce, who does the same. He hears them stop in the hallway and he pauses in his steps.
“What’s going on?” Tim hears the man's question and he sneaks closer when he can’t hear the boy’s response. He subtly uses his phone’s camera to peek around the corner. 
“What about Mom and Dad?” Dick asks in a hushed whisper and Tim knits his eyebrows together — confused about who his brother is talking about.
Danny winces with a pained expression.
“The GIW got them in custody for affiliating with and aiding an ectoplasmic entity,” he explains. “You are my only chance.”
“Jazz, Sam, Tucker?” Dick almost seems desperate and when the boy just shakes his head after each name, he runs a hand through his hair and curses. 
“And you are sure we can’t go to them?”
Tim can’t help but ask himself who they are talking about that Dick’s voice is so full of disdain. Danny vehemently shakes his head, eyes squeezed together like he is remembering something painful and when he speaks his voice is shaky.
“I don’t know what to do, Ric,” he says, clutching the top of his shirt like his heart is hurting and Tim’s eyebrows climb to the top of his hairline at the unusual nickname. “I can’t- I can’t do this alone…” 
“Fuck.” Dick takes a deep breath as he hugs Danny. “Okay. Yes, of course I’m coming with you, baby ghost. Just let me grab my things and then we’ll go on our way.” 
“You will not go anywhere.” 
Bruce steps in Dick’s path before Tim can stop him and he narrows his eyes at the pair. Danny flinches away from the man and Dick steps protectively in front of the boy.
Tim knows Bruce and Dick had their rough patches in the past but never like this. Never had Dick looked at Bruce like he was a threat. 
“I’m not in the mood, B,” Dick warns sharply. 
“And I’m not about to let you go off with someone that I haven’t vetted.”
Dick lets out a bitter huff of a laugh.
“Of course that’s the only thing you would focus on.” His voice is cold. “You’ll bulldoze your way through, and prod and condemn, not caring if you hurt someone innocent in the process as long as you can justify your actions. I don’t even know why I’m surprised at this point. It’s what happened to Jason after all.”
Bruce reels back like he’s been punched. 
“Now if that is all, I have to go save the people who actually treat me like family.”
This time nobody stops Dick as he leaves the house, Danny in tow. 
“Master Bruce, Master Tim,” Alfred’s voice tears Tim out of his trance and startles Bruce who froze in his spot. “Where is Master Dick?”
Dick trembles with barely suppressed fury as he leads Danny to his car.
He wanted to believe that Bruce was better — that he wouldn’t have led the Justice League on a hunt after a child, but the longer he is back in Gotham as Richard Grayson — the longer he is around who were supposed to be his “actual” family, the more he grows unsure about that fact. There is no easy trust between them — not the steadfast determination that no matter what happens, they’ll take his side. Not like the Fentons have. (It’s been barely 2 months and he misses being Ric Fenton — misses being Jack and Maddie’s son and Jazz and Danny’s older brother.)
Bruce has contingency plans about them for fuck’s sake. And while he understands that there might be situations where they would be on other sides — the time where he and the Teen Titans had to fight their mind controlled mentors comes to mind — it’s a scary thought. For the first time since ages — since Bruce had taken Robin away from him — he feels like he is on his own. 
Back then he had turned to Clark — to Superman. He was the one who gave him the name Nightwing but Dick is plagued by the nightmares he witnessed Danny having. He doesn’t think he can look at his uncle ever the same again. 
At the same time, he doesn’t know if Danny and him can do this alone. He glances at the boy as he drives out the gates to the manor — he looks incredibly drained. He’s even paler than usual and there’s a sheen of sweat over his whole body as he leans back in his seat, breaths shallow. 
As he drives through the streets of the Bowery a sudden thought comes to his mind. He tears the steering wheel around, tearing Danny out of his doze. He blinks at Dick, eyebrows knitted together when he sees that they are still in Gotham.
“Where are we going?” he asks and Dick gives him a smile that is all teeth.
“Just a little pit stop.”
Jason and Dick don’t talk much — or to be more precise they don’t talk about the important stuff. Not about the — ‘I broke down when I heard about your death and I blame myself for not being there’ or ‘I was sure you hated me and you were glad I was gone’. They barge into each other's apartments, spar or get drunk together and cling to each other when they are sure the other isn’t awake to witness it. It’s not quite healthy — but it’s something better than when Jason was still Robin.
So when the door to one of his safe houses gets slammed open, Jason isn’t concerned. He knows Dick had been off the past few weeks and had been expecting his visit for quite a while now. 
The look in Dick’s eyes is different this time around though. It’s not quite the mix of depression coupled with anger he normally expects — it’s something stronger — righteous fury.
“I need your help,” Dick demands before Jason can question what’s going on.
Jason knits his eyebrows together. 
“What about Bruce?”
There’s a dark look in the man’s eyes for a moment before it passes and that’s the moment Jason realizes that this something more serious than the usual spats he normally has with B. 
“You are the only one I can trust with this.”
He spins around on his heels and is out of the safe house before Jason can blink. Getting a bit impatient and angry about Dick not getting straight to the point and still expecting him to follow — Jason storms out. What he doesn’t expect is the passed out half-dead kid in the passenger seat. A tinge of green enters his vision as he glares at Dick.
“What the hell is going on?”
The story Dick tells as they speed on the highway leaves Jason reeling. If the man’s tone wasn’t carefully monotone as he spoke about Ghosts and an entire town being shifted to a different dimension, Jason would have already declared that Dick finally snapped. He wants to question why he lied to the rest about losing his memories about the year he went missing, but the desperate look he sends him and the way his hands shake on the steering wheel hold him back. It’s only the boy’s quiet snores that have Jason’s volume not climbing above a hiss.
“Are you sure this all happened? That this is real?”
“I was there, Jay,” Dick’s tone leaves no arguments. “I almost watched Danny die, again — fighting Pariah Dark. I would have never forgiven myself if another of my brothers…” He gulps and shakes his head. “I was there this time. I should have made a difference and once again I was helpless”. He slams a fist against the radio, cursing when it turns on, blaring loud music. 
He quickly turns the volume down and both of them wait with bated breath as Danny stirs in his seat, before he goes limp again. Dick lets out a deep sigh.
“How do you think I felt once I realized the situation?” Dick questions. “I was in the middle of nowhere with no recollection of who I was. If the Fentons hadn’t found me-” He shakes his head. “Next I know I’m watching a kid fight fucking Ghosts twice his side and getting thrown around like a ragdoll like it’s a normal Tuesday. That shouldn’t happen Jay, it just shouldn’t.”
Jason stays silent.
“And worst of all, I still knew how to fight,” Dick barrels on. “But no matter how much I tried to help Danny and teach him, it was useless because it wasn’t humans or even metas he was up against. How could my moves counter beings that can fly and go intangible and invisible at will?”
Jason still can’t fathom why Dick hid this from them all — but he knows enough to understand why he needs his help. 
“So what’s the plan?”
Dick shoots him a relieved smile.
“We still have 12 hours of driving ahead of us,” Dick glances at Danny. “I’m reckoning he’s gonna be out cold for at least half of it if not more. I need you to switch with me after half of the drive so I can get a power nap in, then I’ll take over again.”
“Not trusting me with the car?” Jason teases.
“Show me your drivers license and maybe I’ll reconsider.”
They start bickering, and for a moment Jason can convince himself that this is a normal road trip.
Jason’s at the wheel when the boy wakes up. Dick is out cold and despite the man’s protests Jason can drive normally if he wants to. There’s no reason the man has to over exhaust himself.
They had tossed their phones once they crossed the border to Illinois and Dick had withdrawn a couple of thousand bucks. Jason had questioned why they hadn’t done sooner if they wanted to keep Bruce off their trail, but the man told him he’s not the one he is worried about. Considering what Dick told him about the elusive GIW, Jason can harbor a guess on who he is talking about. It’s after that, that Jason wrangled him into another nap — Dick was in no condition to drive any further. 
“Ric?” Danny questions sleepily as he sits up and Jason keeps an eye on him out of the corner of his eyes.
“He’s asleep,” Jason answers and it’s only because he’s used to Damian that he blocks the instinctual kick as the boy realizes he’s not alone. 
“I can see that Dick kept you sharp” Jason huffs out a laugh. “I’m Jason, in case he didn’t mention me.”
Danny blinks at him and shifts so he is sitting cross legged. He knits his eyebrows together, clearly thinking.
“You were the pit stop?” he questions.
“Apparently.” Jason shrugs. “Great work, by the way. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Dick this pissed.”
The boy frowns, gnawing at his lips as he stares out the window.
“You’ve died too, haven't you?”
Jason suppresses his initial reaction to snap at the boy. Instead he grits his teeth as he stares straight ahead, the road blurring together. 
“And?”
“Ric shouldn’t have let you come.”
He grips the steering wheel until his knuckles are deadly white, green hazing his vision. 
“They’ll cut you open too.”
It takes the wind out of his anger and he lets out a curse. The brakes screech as he stops at the side of the road, nearly catapulting them forward with the force of it. Jason finally turns to look at Danny properly. The boy peels down his t-shirt to reveal a gnarly, ugly red Y-shaped scar as he gulps.
“Ric doesn’t know,” he says as he releases the hem of his shirt, covering the scar once more. “I haven’t told him.”
“Then why me?” Jason’s voice rises without his consent.
“Because you’ll get it,” the boy murmurs. “How it feels to die.”
The boy leans back, turning away from Jason to look at the corn field.
“How it haunts you.”
Jason wants to puke and he lets his forehead fall onto the steering wheel.
“Fuck,” he says emotionally and the boy laughs — broken and hysterical. Jason doesn’t comment on the tears streaming down Danny’s face.
Jason starts up the car again, leading the car back on the road.
“Next time Dick asks for my help, I’ll send him to hell.”
Jason hides a smile when the boy snorts at that. 
Dick comes to himself as they are about to cross the border into Amity Park. Jason and Danny are quietly talking and he wipes away a little bit of drool as he sits up. It’s dark outside and Danny directs Jason as they enter the city. He leans forward as he enters the conversation.
“You’ll think the GIW’s detectors will sense us?”
Danny glances at Jason, before he turns his attention to Dick.
“We should be fine for a few hours at least as long as I don’t have to turn ghost,” he says. “Half of the town is liminal at this point so you and Jason shouldn’t raise any alarms either. They had too many false alarms in the months since you left.”
Jason looks at Dick strangely once they park where they can hide for the night.
“Since when did you have contact with Lazarus Pits?”
“Never,” Dick retorts. “But living above a portal to the Infinite Realms for a year will do the trick.”
Jason's face scrunches up.
“Who the hell builds a portal in their own basement?” 
Both Dick and Danny snort. 
“Gotta love Mom and Dad,” the boy says as Dick nods in agreement. “Only they are insane enough.”
Dick makes a face.
“I could do without reanimated meatloaf for the rest of my life though.”
“Don’t remind me,” Danny shudders.
Jason stares at them in bafflement. 
“You do know how crazy that sounds?”
“Crazier than Ghosts?” Danny questions with a smirk and Jason pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head
“To give it to Mom and Dad they did stop storing samples in the fridge after we lectured them about it,” Dick adds. At Jason's aghast face he just shrugs. “They are passionate about their work.” 
“Insane, absolutely insane,” the man mutters and Dick suppresses a smile.
It had taken him a bit to get used to the Fenton's and their flavor of insanity and chaos. At first he had been worried about them being neglectful at best, but it turns out that they just needed someone to remind them when they got into “hyperfixation” mode. He and Jazz had to stage an intervention and both Maddie and Jack were embarrassed once they realized they took it too far. Dick doesn’t know who is worse — them or Tim when he’s awake for more than three days. 
He was very relieved when his initial hunch didn’t turn out to be true after Danny revealed himself as Phantom to his parents. They did a whole 180 on their research, focusing on learning about the intricacies of the Infinite Realms, their culture and even politics instead — resigning from their high positions in the GIW. That’s when the trouble really started. 
Dick hadn’t lied about getting amnesia after he was shot and it was also true that his memories had only returned — thanks to Frostbite — two months ago. But the only reason he went back to Gotham had been to get Danny help (the longer they waited the worse the situation with the GIW became) — to find out if the Justice League could be trusted. Once he heard what happened with Freakshow and the Reality Gauntlet (and had the memories to properly realize what that meant) he had been horrified. He had given himself a deadline to — if need be, confront the Justice League by the time Danny’s birthday came around and find out the truth. (He had desperately hoped that this was all a misunderstanding, but Bruce’s words still taste bitter on his tongue.)
Dick knows bringing Jason along was a risk — considering Danny’s theory that the Lazarus Pit were corrupted ectoplasm, but they need the manpower to get through the GIW’s defenses. Even if he’s scared shitless about what they’ll do to Jason when they find out just how liminal he is. He knows this is a death mission. But it doesn’t have to be for Jason.
“We need to establish some ground rules,” Dick says reluctantly and Jason narrows his eyes at the wording.
“If we get captured, I want you to save yourself, Jason.” Jason scoffs and Dick raises a hand, silencing his retort before it can come. “I’m the sole reason you got involved in the first place. Me and Danny may be willing to die for them, but I’m not letting you sacrifice yourself for something that isn’t even your problem to deal with.”
“If you think I’m gonna agree to those, you are more than stupid than I thought Dick,” Jason’s voice is scathing. “It started being my problem when you came to me for help and we drove for 12 straight hours to get there. If you say those people are your family — then they are mine as well.”
His lips perk into a smirk.
“Besides, I want to meet the people that might be even more batshit insane than B and got you to call them Mom and Dad.”
Dick flushes slightly — the Fenton’s had always insisted on him calling them Mom and Dad and he doesn’t know when the titles became genuine. Even with his memories restored, Ric Fenton feels more alive  — more loved — than Richard Grayson ever did. 
Danny just shrugs as he leans back, arms crossed behind his neck and feet rested on top of the glove box. 
“I guess I have not only two sisters but two older brothers now,” he adds cheekily. 
“Brat.” 
Jason playfully shoves Danny and Dick gapes at the fond tone in his voice. 
“How?” he stammers — they should barely know each other. “When?”
Jason tucks Danny into his side, angle a bit awkward, but grinning as he ruffles his hair.
“You missed a lot, sleeping beauty,” Jason jests and Dick groans.
“I was only asleep for 1 hour!” he bemoans. 
“Two,” Danny corrects and Dick glares at him, raising a finger.
“Don’t you two dare gang up on me!”
“This is sweet revenge for when you and Jazz teamed up against me,” Danny grins.
“We were literally trying to help you!” Dick complains, shoving Danny’s face away as the boy cackles, Jason watching on with amusement.
Dick might have to leave Ric Fenton behind for good now that his two worlds have collided, but maybe he can still be Richard “Dick” Grayson-Fenton instead.  
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moonlitkissing · 7 months ago
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Recent fantasy: an inexperienced friend asking me about how he can tell that his future partner is cumming - he's read that many women fake their orgasms and now he's scared he won't be able to tell the difference and if i could give him some pointers?
So I offer to show him how it feels instead. He nods hesitantly, face flushed and attempting in vain to hide behind his short hair, but his eyes stay glued to my body while I'm undressing.
Slowly, I spread my legs wider, shifting both our focus on my pussy, and trail one hand down, spread it for him with my fingers. Poor boy looks about ready to faint, but he does his very best to stay focused and listen to my explanations. I show him my clit, tell him that many girls cum from clit stimulation, that prenetation isn't always enough and that he shouldn't feel bad about it.
I start up a rhythm of tight circles on my clit as I'm talking so my words occasionally tip over in a moan, and his eyes grow wider with every single one of them. But he also leans forward, pants tenting as he watches me touch myself right before him.
After checking that he's okay with touching, I grab his hand and drag it to my pussy, instructing him to put two fingers in. He groans when he does, mumbling about how tight, how wet i am around his fingers, how soft it feels. I clench more or less involuntary around him and laugh softly at his startled expression and tell him that he's doing everything right, to crook his fingers, to keep repeating that motion.
I let him finger me for a while, let him find his rhythm while I'm still working my clit, climbing steadily higher and higher. Eventually, he looks up from where his fingers disappear inside me and watches my expression instead, cheeks still flushed but for another reason now.
"Close," I tell him around a moan and press harder on my clit, pleasure shooting through my middle with every crook of his fingers and every press of mine.
It's almost more rewarding to watch his face than the feeling of the orgasm washing over my body when it happens. His mouth is slightly open, eyes lazer focused on my pussy once more as it keeps clenching around his fingers, and he mutters a breathy "fuck" over the noises my wetness makes.
I have to take a minute to catch my breath and another to gingerly pull his hand free from my body but when I do, I'm met with the most bashful smile and a cute little "thank you"
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ourceliumnetwork · 2 months ago
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i think i'm like. really in denial sometimes about how much pain i'm just Casually In...
OH NO WAIT HANG ON WAIT ACTUALLY MY MEDICINE WORE OFF AND I DID LIKE A LOT OF UNANTICIPATED ACTIVITY NEVER MIND I'M DUMB I'M HURTING FOR ACTUAL REASONS THIS TIME
#i mean i'm not but like also i am#this post brought to you by#apparently my meds wearing off and my absolutely insane menty b where i tore my crafting supply caches apart looking for my sewing needles#(i did not find them - i found *one* but not all of them they're supposed to be in a little blue circle jewel case#you know it's just a cheap needle set from joanns or michaels i don't remember which)#i am still distraught i never found the whole case of them but at least i know where One is and it's with my current Embroidery Project#which means it's where it needs to be and so long as it doesn't go missing when i inevitably drop it we're gucci#but since that's a silly thing to hope for indefinitely i will be intending to purchase more of them and try very hard not to misplace them#i also helped put away the groceries which was one of the first ways i realized actually the POTS dx might be on to something#so it's always a little taxing to do as it is#but that on top of the tantrum i threw about not being able to find my needles and the spiral inherent in the system#may have aggravated some parts of me that are already unhappy about the weather and pressure situation over this part of MI#i'll deal with the worn off meds until bedtime#TECHNICALLY i should still have about 4 hours of mild pain relief from them#it's not as good as it is around the 5-6 hour mark but it's not y'know. rawdogging the pain so that's nice#and it's not like any of it really does anything as it is everything just always hurts and it sucks but like we stay silly#it's just worse right now cause i did a lot and the weather's been nasty
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shadow-bender · 5 months ago
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#genuinely though i think i need to try and get (back) on medication for my chronic pain#the only reaso. i didnt when it was offered is bc the trwatment they wnated to use involved and ssri and i cant be#on an ssri without being on a mood stabilizer unless we want me to go into a mania#and the last time i was on a mood stabilizer i lost 15% of my body weight bc of how sick it made me and my gastrointestinal tract still#hasnt recovered from that even though its been 7 years atleast at this point#and 15% of your body mass is alot to fucking lose when you only weigh 112 pounds in the first place#ive also STILL not gained that weight back btw#i only weigh like 105#i feel like i look like a fucking victorian waif who needs to be sent to the seaside for their health#but atleast i dont weight 98 pounds anymore bc that was really scary actually#also and the main point of this all is that if i dont do something im going A flunk out of grad school and B possibly killmyself#bc my mental health is actially so bad right now. my suicidal ideation is the worst its been since my early 20s#lile there is a part of my brain that actively wants to die bc then everything would stop hurting and bc im so tired and i just want to rest#but also i dont want to die actually im just tired and afraid#but my brain is trying to kill me#and ive had the strong urge to start self harming again after being clean of it again since my early 20s#like ive caught myself ruminating on it on how much i want it#both selfharm and death and thats so fucking scary bc ive fought so hard to not do either of those things#ive been clean of self harm since i was 21 thats 7 years and the last time i caught myself actively thinking about sucide or selfharm#was in 2020 during covid lockdown bc i was fucking trapped in a house with my ex who didnt give a shit about my psychosis or its triggers#or even my life apparently bc i begged him to lock up his guns during one of the worst episodes i had during lockdown bc my brain was#telling me to kill myself and he didnt just moved them to a shelf kinda out of the way but still easily accessible
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josephandrewstarkey · 4 months ago
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beach fight - part 1
warnings: angst, mentions of blood, cussing, topper, fighting, mentions of cheating, Ruthie
disclaimer: this is so satisfying to read — requests are open!!
pairing: rafe cameron x reader
The Pogues were lounging on the beach, enjoying the rare moment of peace. Y/N tried to relax, but the air felt tense, like something was about to go down. She couldn’t help but notice the Kooks pulling up in their flashy cars, parking way too close. Rafe, Topper and the rest of their stupid crew stepped out, making sure everyone saw them.
The last thing Y/N needed was to see Rafe. After everything he did— cheating on her with Sofia. it still stung. they had a thing going on for a while, he changed when they were together— but that all went away when Sofia happened. And now, here they were, together, acting like nothing had happened
Topper and JJ had made a quick agreement not to start anything. Both knew things could get messy fast, so they decided to keep it chill for the day.
Everyone settled back into their spots, but Y/N could feel the tension in her muscles. She couldn’t help glancing over at Rafe, who looked too comfortable around Sofia, his arm draped lazily over her shoulder. Her stomach twisted with a mix of anger and hurt.
Suddenly, Kiara gasped. “Guys, look!”
The Pogues’ attention snapped to the tiny turtle hatch making its way to the ocean.
Everyone gathered around, watching as the turtle moved slowly through the sand. It was a rare moment of quiet wonder, the kind that reminded them why they loved this place.
But then the loud roar of an engine shattered the peace. Ruthie’s truck tore through the sand, heading right for the turtle, swerving dangerously close to the Pogues.
“Watch out!” JJ yelled, grabbing Kiara and pulling her out of the way.
The truck barely missed them, the tires kicking up sand. Ruthie laughed from inside, clearly amused at the chaos she was causing.
“She almost killed them!” Kiara said, horrified, looking back at the little turtles still struggling through the sand.
Y/N clenched her fists, biting her tongue. Her heart raced with anger, but she tried to hold it in. Not yet, don’t explode yet.
But Ruthie wasn’t done. She spun the truck around, her laughter echoing through the air. As she drove past them again, she leaned out the window, holding a drink. Without warning, she tossed it right on Kiara, drenching her in sticky liquid and ice.
Kiara stood there, frozen, dripping wet. “Are you kidding me?”
Y/N felt the last thread of control snap. “Don’t” John B muttered, trying to keep the peace.
But Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She stormed toward Ruthie, eyes blazing with fury, not caring what anyone said.
“Y/N, don’t!” John B called after her, but it was too late. The anger that had been building for months—Rafe’s betrayal, seeing Sofia here, Ruthie’s blatant disrespect—had reached its breaking point.
Y/N marched right up to Ruthie, who was standing by her truck now, smirking at the mess she’d caused.
“What’s your problem, you bitch?” Y/N spat, her voice shaking with rage.
Ruthie sneered, completely unfazed. “What’s yours, Pogue? Go cry about it with your dirty friends.”
That did it. Without a second thought, Y/N grabbed Ruthie by the shirt and shoved her back, hard. Ruthie stumbled, caught off guard, but before she could react, Y/N swung her fist, landing a solid punch to Ruthie’s face.
Ruthie shrieked in pain, clutching her nose as blood started to drip. “You psycho!”
The Kooks looked on in shock, unsure of what to do. Sofia’s eyes widened as she watched Y/N completely lose it. But she noticed something else—Rafe wasn’t running to Ruthie’s defense. Instead, his eyes were glued to Y/N, a mix of anger and concern flashing across his face.
Ruthie tried to fight back, but Y/N wasn’t having it. She grabbed Ruthie’s hair, yanking her down toward the sand as Ruthie let out another scream. Y/N’s fists flew, fueled by months of pent-up rage.
“Y/N!” Rafe’s voice finally broke through, but she didn’t stop. He rushed over and grabbed her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her off Ruthie. “That’s enough!”
Y/N struggled against his grip, still fuming. “Let go of me!”
Ruthie lay on the ground, crying and holding her bloody nose. Y/N had done enough damage, but the fire inside her wasn’t out.
Rafe held her tight, his breath warm against her neck as he tried to calm her down. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Get your hands off me, Rafe,” Y/N snapped, finally breaking free of his grip. She spun around to face him, her chest heaving. “What am I doing? I’m doing what you should’ve done—keeping your bitchass friends in check.”
Rafe narrowed his eyes, but Y/N didn’t give him a chance to respond. “You’ve been running around with these Kooks, pretending like nothing matters, while you’re just as bad as them. You cheated on me with her!” Y/N’s voice cracked as she pointed at Sofia, who was standing frozen, watching the whole scene unfold.
Rafe clenched his jaw, but there was a flicker of guilt in his eyes. “That’s not—”
“Don’t even try to defend yourself,” Y/N cut him off. “You lost that right the second you chose Sofia.”
Sofia, who had been silent this whole time, shifted uncomfortably as Rafe’s attention stayed focused on Y/N. She could see how much Y/N still affected him, how his whole demeanor changed around her. His concern, his frustration—it was all for Y/N, and that realization stung.
Y/N turned her back on Rafe and marched back toward Ruthie, who was still sitting in the sand, clutching her bleeding nose. Before anyone could stop her, Y/N grabbed Sofia’s drink from the hood of the truck and dumped it right over Ruthie’s head.
Ruthie gasped, soaked and defeated, blood and soda dripping down her face.
“Don’t ever mess with my friends again,” Y/N hissed, her voice low and dangerous.
Rafe watched in shock, still standing frozen in place, as Y/N walked back toward the Pogues. He barely noticed Sofia next to him, her face twisted in jealousy and confusion as she realized how much control Y/N still had over him.
The Pogues erupted in cheers as Y/N rejoined them. JJ slapped her on the back, laughing. “Hell yeah, Y/N! That was awesome!”
Kiara, still wiping the drink off her, grinned. “You really know how to handle things.”
But as the Pogues celebrated, Rafe stayed behind, his eyes locked on Y/N, conflicted emotions swirling inside him. Sofia glanced between them, noticing the way Rafe’s attention was fixed on Y/N, and it was clear: no matter what had happened between him and Sofia, Y/N still had a hold on him that Sofia could never break.
part 2 here
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gay-dorito-dust · 10 months ago
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How’d they react to finding you sleeping anywhere but the bed…
Dick: sharing the dog bed with Hayley (fail):
At first he thought something was wrong when he didn’t hear you or Hayley greet him home and soon began to search the spy for you both.
So the moment he finds you fast asleep on Hayley’s dog bed with Hayley tucked closely into your chest, head resting underneath your chin. His heart immeditly melted and his phone was out and taking photos nearly every 0.5 seconds, only until he was forced to stop due to how much storage they took up but he didn’t regret it.
Not one bit. He even has one printed out that he kept on him to look at whenever he felt as though he needed to be reminded of how he had waiting back home for him.
You both were effortlessly cute to Dick, he couldn’t help it but feel a little left out as he then tries to join you in the dog bed, only to almost ends up capsizing the three of you and waking both you and Hayley, who began licking his face as her tail smacks you in the arm repeatedly.
‘What were you trying to do?’ You asked Dick, sitting up.
Dick pouted. ‘Join in the fun.’
‘We were sleeping in a dog bed, how’s that fun.’ You said, not bothering to add the fact that you had accidentally fell asleep on Hayley’s dog bed because you were waiting up for him but failed.
‘Fun to me is wherever you and Hayley are.’ Dick answered truthfully.
You smiled as you kissed his cheek. ‘You’re such a dork, you know that right.’ You told him.
‘Yes. And?’ He says cheekily, more than happy to be home with his little family.
Bruce: in the Batmobile:
Alfred told him where you were and that you best be moved to a more comfortable place then the passenger seat of the Batmobile.
How you got in there was a mystery to both men but what was more impressive was how you could possibly sleep against those hard rich leather seats in the first place.
Bruce couldn’t blow but let out a little chuckle when he opened the side door, just to see you with your face half pressed against the seats before jolting yourself awake.
‘Wha- I didn’t do nothing officer it was the dog.’ You said groggily as you tried to blink the sleep from your eyes as they tried to bring reality into focus.
‘Have a good nap did we?’ Bruce asks, finding some amusement in your half asleep nonsense.
‘Why, who’s asking?’ You replied.
‘Your consciousness.’ Bruce joked sarcastically. ‘Come on let’s get you to bed before you develop a-‘
‘Ow my neck.’ You groaned as you held a hand to your neck the moment you tried to move it.
‘-Crooked neck.’ Bruce sighs as he offers you a hand. ‘Come on, let’s go find Alfred so that we can alleviate you of this pain.’ You pouted as you grabbed onto his hand and letting him pull you out of the Batmobile. ‘Alfred is going to scold me isn’t he?’ You asked. ‘Yes, I’m afraid so.’ Bruce answered as he helps guide you out of the Batcave.
Alfred’s scoldings were nothing to scoff at, and Bruce would know as he’s been on the receiving end of a few before in the past. After all getting scolded by Alfred was enough to set a stubborn man straight.
‘Damn.’ You muttered.
Damian: in the barn, on top of Goliath:
He didn’t have to look far, he knew you’d be in the barn but what he wasn’t expecting was for you to be fast asleep on top of his demonic dragon bat, whom had draped a protective wing over you as though it were swaddling you in an extremely warm blanket.
He had told you about the story of how he met Goliath and took him home on more then one occasion, as it was secretly his favourite story because it helped him with his own internal struggles on who he should be, and also how his past doesn’t define him, but what he chooses to do in the future does.
So seeing you cuddled up to Goliath without an ounce of care made him smile a little to himself at the prospect of you accepting him for who he was truly, rather than believe what other people viewed him as. You stood out of the crowd rather than follow it and Damian couldn’t be more grateful for you sticking by him, even through the extremely tough times where even he thought he went too far with his outbursts towards you.
‘Tt. Idiot.’ He says affectionately as he walks further into the barn, stopping along the way to pet BatCow and Jerry the Turkey. ‘Aren’t they?’ He asks both animals who only blinked at him as they mindlessly chewed on their food. Damian hums. ‘You’re right, they may be an idiot but they’re still my idiot at the end of the day.’
Damian ends up falling asleep against BatCow’s side as Jerry the Turkey made himself comfortable on his lap.
Jason: kitchen counter:
Him and Roy have a bet on where Jason would find you asleep next.
It had happened way too often for them that they’d hates themselves forever for not making a game out of it at any point in their lives.
This time Roy betted that you’d fall asleep on the kitchen counter, whereas Jason believes you’ll fall asleep against the window sill.
So when Jason got back home late one night after patrol, he immeditly went to look for you at the window sill. Nothing. ‘Damn it Roy.’ He cursed under his breath as he then walked into the kitchen, praying that he wouldn’t have to tell his friend that he won the bet for the eighth consecutive time.
Only for you to be fast asleep on the fucking kitchen counter, just as Roy predicted you would. Jason felt as though his friend was cheating somehow because it didn’t make sense for him to have correctly predicted where you’d be found sleeping as often as he did. Unfortunately for Jason, he couldn’t back up his claim as to why he thought Roy cheated, for there wasn’t any substantial evidence to prove that Roy was cheating.
And so with a heavy heart, Jason walked over and pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling out his phone to text Roy that he has won…again, and pocketing his phone as he carried you off to your shared room. ‘I love you chipmunk but you’ve got to start sleeping in places where I’ll surefire win the bet against Roy next time okay?’ He says against your head, kissing it.
‘Okay. I’ll try.’ You murmured.
‘That’s my baby.’ Jason said as he tucked you into bed before following suit.
The next day, Roy was smirking like a Cheshire Cat as he talked about his eighth consecutive victory, whereas Jason looked about ready to strangle the next person who looked at him funny.
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loganlermanstanaccount · 2 years ago
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Show me where it hurts (part 2)
Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader
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GIF by aenhanse
(AO3 Mirror), Part 1, Main Masterlist
summary: You confront Miguel.
warnings: breeding kink, cum play, animalistic behaviour (not quite ABO), mutual masturbation, dirty talk, praise and degradation, Miguel eats ass like a fucking champ, general filth etc etc. very very 18+, minors dni (and i will b blocking!) 
a/n: thank you for all the support for part 1! I will say, all the comments about relationship building and stuff do make me laugh a little bc this part is literally just p0rn with a teensy tiny bit of feelings.. but if you follow me this should be pretty standard by now.
wc: 4k ish
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You let yourself in again, but not until after pounding on the door. 
You think he's home, the scent of something in the air. At first glance, his place is empty, but a mess : cushions ripped off the couch, kitchen ransacked of its contents, floor covered in blankets and clothes. It makes you worry: Miguel is so clean it's scary . He would never leave his place like this. You hear something from his bedroom and rush towards it.
He's there, back turned on the bed. But something's wrong. In sweats and a tank top, he's breathing heavily, clutching at the sheets. 
"You shouldn't be here." He strains. 
Eyes wide, you step closer. Is he in pain? Is he hurt? "Miguel. I just want to help. Did something happen?" 
All he does is shake his head, unable to make eye contact with you. "I c-can't let you… please, bichita. It's not safe for you."
Your heart breaks at his helplessness, you get closer, and perch on the bed next to him. He jumps at the hand you place in his shoulder. Fuck. He's drenched in sweat. 
"Miguel, please. Let me in… I'd do anything. Just let me help."
He groans with his head in his hands. "I know, bichita. That's the problem. I can't let you…"
You look at him properly now. He's writhing on the sheets, tense and unable to sit still. Guiltily, all you can think is how good he looks; pretty even when his hair sticks to the nape of his neck, when he groans lowly at your presence. Your eyes rake down his body, looking for a secret wound, or something he's hiding. When you spot it, you gasp. 
Miguel is rock hard under his sweats. And he is massive. 
It clicks. Ashamed, he makes hesitant eye contact with you. "It's not usually this bad. And it gets worse if I'm near someone I'm…" He breathes. "Someone I'm attracted to."
You can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the statement; of the situation. "I think that's just what erections do, Miggy." 
He rolls his eyes, too annoyed to be as uneasy for a moment. " No , God, I meant my DNA. There's something wrong with me, something animalistic , that makes it ten times worse. I'm going crazy. Smell, taste, touch… and it doesn't just go away. "
You hum. "And what's your hypothesis?" 
He looks at you, a little crazed, but he gets it. If you talk to him like it's one of your status reports, like it's another mission, maybe he can stop thinking about pounding you into the sheets and filling you up with his cum. 
He clears his throat. " You . Gets worse when I t-think about you, or you're near."
You've got a hand on his thigh, rubbing circles that go straight to his head. 
"What makes it feel better?" 
Deep breath. "Touching myself. But I haven't… and I won't-" 
"Why?" You smile like a Cheshire cat. Are you… enjoying this? 
"I can't. You're a friend and it's a violation of your trust."
"It hurts. You're in pain. I give you full permission to give yourself some relief. You can touch yourself, for me. I want you to feel good."
His hips buck up involuntarily. Just thinking about it is driving him crazy. " Mierda. Stop talking like that-" 
"Like what?" You bat your eyelashes. 
"Like that ." He hisses. "Like you want to get fucked."
He squeezes his eyes shut, even more guilty. "I'm sorry. That's not appropriate at all. I shouldn't have… snapped like that."
You rub your legs together: you're fucking soaked. Like this, with his senses going crazy, you don't know if he can smell it, taste it in the air. The thought makes you even wetter. 
You mumble. "Meant it, Miguel. I just want to watch."
Agonisingly slow, you sink to your knees in front of him. He watches, eyes wide, trying not to lean into it. 
"Do you want me to beg? Because I will, if it makes you feel better." 
He grabs his crotch, rocking into his palm. You're breaking him down, bit by bit. 
"I think you like punishing yourself, Miggy. You think you deserve it. How long have you been like this? Weeks, I bet. When all you needed to do was ask me. I would've helped you over the phone if you wanted it. Told you how to stroke your cock, where to put pressure, asked you if it felt good. Think about how good it would feel. The relief. "
You rock on your heel and it doesn't go unnoticed. You light him on fire, and the thought of you getting off only pushes him closer to the edge. "Can I tell you a secret?" You whisper. He nods fervently. "I've always wanted you in my mouth. Just wanted to know what it would feel like; how pretty you'd look when you cum."
It's too much. His back arches, and he groans, spilling into his sweats. Astounded, you look up. So. Much. Cum. You didn't think a person could physically produce so much, but here he is, coating the inside of his boxers with it. Miguel, however, looks embarrassed: his first orgasm in a week and it's spilling into his trousers in front of a pretty girl like a teenager. He groans, covering his flushed face. 
"Can I…?" Your eyes are wide in amazement. Shakily, he nods. 
Is it bad for you to say he looks just like you imagined? Tan, long and with a bit of girth, and under all the cum he seems well-groomed. He's still half hard, which is impressive considering the sheer amount of cum splattered everywhere. Probably, he has the prettiest cock you've ever seen. As you pull down his boxers, your very obvious glee makes him pause. 
"...you like this?" He seems genuinely confused, and it makes you giggle. You've flustered him, yet again. 
Resting a head on his thigh, you look up at him through innocent lashes. Your other hand swipes cum off his tip, making his cock jump. "Could ask you the same. You're still hard." 
"I can't believe…" He mutters. "You're gonna kill me." 
"What do you want, Miguel?" You put a hand on his length, rubbing up and down ever so slightly. "You want to get off?" 
"I want…" It makes him grunt all the same. He goes from wayward glances to looking you straight in the eyes. " You . I want you." 
"How do you want me?" Deceptively innocent, you coax his length back to full mast with your hand. 
How do you want me? There are a thousand thoughts flying through his head, and his brows tense with the weight of them. Head back, he leans into your touch. He doesn't want to scare you, with the way he's been thinking about that question long before you asked: weeks, months, years before now. You see him hesitate, and bite his lip.
Your hands still and he cries out, cursing the loss of warmth. "M'not asking again." A little softer now. "No judgement, Miggy. I just want to help." 
Deep breath. "Anyway I can. Wanna fill you up with my cum. On top. U-Underneath. Mierda. I want your mouth. I want your sweet cunt. I-" 
You silence him with a moan when you envelope his cock with your mouth. You close your eyes in bliss as you bob up and down. Just the tip, teasing , and he's already addicted. With a pop, you separate, pressing sticky kisses and kitten-licks to his shaft and torso. He can't take his eyes off of you: peeking up at him through wispy lashes, licking up his cum. 
Pretty, plump lips smack at his tip obscenely. He can't help but think about how well it suits you; mouth around his cock like something holy.  Precum pours from his slit and you lap it up, chasing his moans. Your own moans vibrate deliciously around him and he wraps a hand in your hair. Finally. You want him to enjoy this, to lean into your head-bobbing, and force your head down onto his dick. You want to feel him in the back of your throat, bullying into the warmth of your mouth and moulding you into the shape of him. 
It starts with a little pressure at the back of your neck, deceptively subtle as he rocks his hips into your face. Making eye contact, you look up and feel your pussy clench around nothing. His eyes are lidded, gorgeous, mouth slightly parted and tongue darting out to wet rosy lips. 
"You want it, hermosa ?" His voice has a different texture to it: deep and wanting and needy. 
As best you can, you nod, humming affirmations around his cock. Oh God, of course you do. You want him; anyway you can, anyway he'll let you, more than he'll ever know. 
He pushes you down, hard, cock hitting the back of your throat like a piston. You gurgle and choke around him, throat tightening in a way that makes him melt. You force yourself deeper, hot tears welling up at the corners of your eyes. Your hands claw at his thighs, nails digging so tight into the fabric you think he might bleed. Winding a hand down to your heat, you press your palm into that sweet spot at your clit and Miguel watches, hungry. 
"Oh fuck , you feel so good. I'm gonna– m-mierda – m'gonna cum."
With a final tug, he pushes you down so your nose brushes at the curly hairs leading down to his cock, spilling into you with vigour. It pours down your throat and you drink it up with pleasure. 
"All gone?" He asks, panting with exertion. In response, you open up your mouth, sticking out your pink tongue so he can inspect it. He stirs when he realises just how cock drunk you are: nary a trace of him left on your tongue.
Slowly, he brings a thumb to your mouth, and watches intently as you swirl it around, and suck on it keenly. The pressure makes him light headed, other hand reaching for your waist to pull you up. And pull you up he does, turning you around so he can take off your suit and have you seated on his lap, where you belong. 
You let him, shrugging off the top half of the suit as he pulls down your zipper. Surprisingly gentle, he traces the slope of your shoulders, and down to your bare ass. He groans. No underwear, because of course , you want to kill him. You want him to die, pussy-whipped and half-hard. He pushes you towards the wall, back pressed flush against him. He drags his fangs across your neck and whispers into the shell of your ear, making your whole body shiver. 
"Once I start," He kneads your ass, grinding his cock against you. You gasp. He's still hard. "M'not gonna be able to stop. And it's not going to be sweet, bichita . You leave now and I won't be angry . I–I'll give you space, whatever you want."
" Miguel," Head back, you moan into his touch, dragging his hand towards your slit, hoping he’ll relieve the pressure at your pussy. "I want it to hurt. I want to feel it tomorrow– fuck– f-feel it when I walk and know it was you . Need it. Need you , please-" 
He bites into your shoulder, and you moan wantonly, back arching into his length. He places your hand on the wall, palms flat. Like the chaser after a burning shot, he soothes haphazard squeezes down your back with his mouth. Hot, messy kisses, as he sinks to his knees. He forces you to hinge at the hip.  Breasts pushed against the cool wall, you gasp when you feel him spread the globes of your ass as he presses his tongue to your hole. He licks the length of your slit, and like a slut, you lean into it. 
"Prettiest cunt I've ever seen, hermosa." He brings his hand to your clit, giving you a wet slap as he watches you shudder. Again, and again, until you cry out. 
" Miguel, fuuuck." 
How has he gone his whole life without hearing you say his name like that? Yet again, he almost cums in his pants, loosely shoved over his aching length. All he can do is watch as your holes flutter and clench around nothing, mesmerised. 
"You'd look even prettier filled with my cum, hmm?" He presses a sticky kiss to your puckered asshole, before easing his tongue inside. One hand holding you open, the other comes to play with your pussy, swirling your wetness around your throbbing clit. 
He tongue-fucks you with fervour, like a man starved: only coming up for air to babble obscenities. 
"Tan bonita, bichita." Slowly, he eases his fingers into your cunt, scissoring them open and shut. He wants to break you apart with only his hands, if you'd let him. "So pretty– fuck. So soft, baby. Beautiful."
You're close and he knows it, fucking yourself on his fingers and face like a bitch in heat. Undeterred, he brings a thumb to your clit pressing down with juust the right amount of pressure. 
"Wanna feel it, hermosa . Can you cum for me? All over my fingers like a good girl, just like that, así de simple."
With the way he paws at your pussy, all you can do is clench around his fingers. He guides you through a shaking, biting orgasm, licking up your cum with a flourish. Even with shaky legs you manage to turn around and pull Miguel up, and he follows eagerly. He looks fucked out already, eyes low and lips swollen with your slick. He motions to strip, stretching his tank top across the expanse of his chest and letting his cock spring free from his sweats. When you move to help him, he stops you, moving your hand from his tank to his solid torso beneath. He wants you to touch him; to feel your soft palm run across his skin, and sink into the warmth of your body. 
One hand at your waist, he presses you against the wall, grinding his cock to your clit. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and they fit like they belong there. Close, impossibly close, and his pupils are blown, wide. It's like he can't decide what he wants to do to you, sharp red eyes darting over your lips, your neck, down to the juncture where you both meet. A paralysis of choice, and all he can do is drink you up in the low light. 
And so, you make a choice for him, lips crashing against his, hand snaking around to guide his cock into your hole. He sinks into you - finally - and you swallow his moans in the aftermath. He's slow to start, eyes screwed shut as he gets used to how tight you are around him. Slowly, he rocks into you, the heat of his palm steady at the crook of your back. 
Miguel opens his eyes, caging you in with his other arm. He's testing the waters, angling his hips to find the spot that makes you tick.
"I didn't-" He breathes. "Didn't think it would be like this." 
You look at him in your haze, brows knitted. 
"I thought that when I finally fucked you, it would be more romantic." He gives you a strained chuckle and warm smile. "This is better in some ways, though." 
"Better , Miggy?" 
"Real." Your cunt flutters around him, and his pace stutters. Not once does he break eye contact, something swirling beneath the surface. "Not in my head. God , that sounds pathetic."
You giggle into the crook of his shoulder. It shouldn't be possible, but his eyes soften even more. And then, his expression changes into something dangerous. 
"I can't do this just once, bichita. You can't give me a taste and then take it away. Es cruel, mi vida."
As if to punctuate his point, you feel his tip slam into that spongy spot in your walls. His strokes become more calculated, punishing and exact, sending waves of pleasure radiating throughout your body. 
"Miguel – fuck– that's not fair- " 
"Can't keep humping my hand como un perro , like a dumb dog, anymore." He brings both his palms to your ass, spreading you apart, and pulling you up onto his dick so your toes barely touch the floor. The slap of your ass against his thighs and heavy balls fill the room, pornographic in nature. 
"Let-" Smack. " Me-"  Smack. " Fill-" Smack. " This-" Smack. " Cunt. " Smack. 
You babble into his ears, affirmations and praise that makes his heart and cock swell. 
'So pretty, Miguel. Yours. All yours." You rake your hands through his hair, harshly tugging him closer in a way that makes him burn up. Clenching around his length, you wrap your legs around his waist. He barely falters, pulling away from the wall and slamming into you regardless. You've seen him like this before; fiery determination that flares up on a tough mission. Tunnel vision: a razor-sharp resolve that has manifested itself in a man hellbent on your pleasure. 
"Miguel. Miguel, I-" I love you, I love you, I love you, I- " -wan' you to cum with me. Deep, please."
Now, his pace gets sloppy, hips stilling to drive himself as deep as you asked; so you can feel him long after you separate. Hot, sticky cum pumps into you and his balls strain with the effort of it. You claw your hand against his back, trailing delicious marks with your nails. When you clamp around him, you swear you see his eyes roll back - lost in the bliss of your cunt. Together, you come down from the high, bare chests panting against one another. 
"Don't look at me like that." His lips graze yours, soft and plush. You stretch your chin upwards, chasing the trace of a kiss he refuses to give to you. Eventually he relents, leaning into a sweet kiss, arm wrapped around your waist. 
He pulls himself off of you with a wet smack, gently carrying you to his bed. He places you in his sheets and you look beautiful, blissful, and fucked out. Cum drips onto your thighs and he feels a pang of possessiveness. His cum. His baby.
Clambering in to spoon you, he can't help but paw at your pussy, using his fingers to stuff his cum back into you, tracing lazy circles on your thigh with his other hand. 
"I'm on birth control, Miggy. So no need to worry." You snuggle into his touch, bare skin against one another. 
"Wasn't worried." He grunts, sounding almost disappointed. You catch his tone, intrigued.
"No harm in trying," You lilt, turning around to place your palms flat on the wide span of his chest. "You wanna fuck a baby into me?" 
Nodding, he groans, head back into the pillow, and you push him onto his back. Pussy throbbing, you straddle his hips; thighs tight around his middle. You can feel him growing harder in the slick of your slit. 
You arch into him, tender hand around his throat. It's a sight he won't forget easily: you on top of him, the gloom of the night tracing the swell of your tits. An angel, all the same. You whisper something into his ear that gives him goosebumps; a full body chill that goes straight to his cock. "My turn, bichito."
~~~
"You never called." Miguel says, laying his head next to yours, after wiping you down with a clean towel. He hands you a spare shirt of his, and you put it on, self-conscious. 
The two of you had fucked well into the night, making good on your promises. His stamina was relentless, pumping load after load into you, pussy-drunk and babbling. There was an intensity there that couldn't be explained: one that made both of you crazy for one another, burning you out between the silky sheets of his bed. Something you had initially attributed to his rut, whatever he had called it, but desperately hoped it was something more. How could this be just sex? After everything you had said and done, it would crush you: to taste the forbidden fruit and have it snatched away just as easily. 
You had both laid there for a bit, afterwards, cock softening in you. Plugging up his cum, he had said, but it felt more intimate in the quiet calm of his bedroom. 
"You didn't either." You throw back at him. 
"That's not th-" 
"I know, I know. It just felt weird, s'all." You turn from him, looking up at the ceiling. Counting the mottles and marks in your head, suddenly shy. After all the filthy things you've said and done to him, he still makes you shy. "I thought I did something wrong."
His heart breaks. "No, no , it wasn't-" 
"Not just today. Last time…a-and the time before that, honestly. We see each other less. You're always busy with something. Felt like you were avoiding me." Rubbing your temples, you sigh. "S'why I cut some corners on the mission. Made mistakes. I thought if I did well, and we had something to talk about…"
"Mierda." You can't bring yourself to look at him, to see the disappointment in his scarlet eyes. But it isn't disappointment, and it’s not directed at you. 
"I wanted to call, but I didn't. Because I didn't think you would answer." Finally, you turn to see his brows knitted: swirling with shame, guilt, sadness. Quickly you add, "I mean, I know why now. I think. And it's really on me, I should've said something or-" 
"I just… I didn't know what to do with it." He takes your hand in his, squeezing tight. 
"...I don't understand."
"All this love I have for you." He says, impossibly soft. "I didn't know what to do with it."
You know him like the back of your hand and you've heard it all: angry, snarky, giddy, beautiful Miguel O'Hara. But this? Confirmation of the feelings you've held for years at this point, dismissed during late nights and pored over during lonely ones - this? 
"And I didn't think you felt the same way, how could you? You're beautiful, and smart, and you have this… way of making people burn as bright as you. So I poured myself into work. That's all I know how to do, bichita. Work. Suffocate under everything. You don't deserve it."
With the way he says it; resigned, matter-of-fact; you want to cry. Still, he hangs on to the notion that he must earn it : that his claws are too sharp and fangs too bloody for redemption. For love, for life, for good things. Miguel O'Hara; doing what needs to be done. Alone, always. 
You come closer to cup his chin, to make sure he's looking at you. There can be no ambiguity, no gray area when you say what you want to say. 
"You don't tell me what to do, O'Hara . " You press a kiss to his cheek, and another to trembling lips. "I decide what I deserve. No-one else does, not even you."
"It's not like you listen to me, anyway." He says with a shaky smile. 
Sitting up slightly on your forearms, you place your head up on his chest. Listening to the steady thump-thump of his heart. You don't need your super senses to know that he's alive, that he's here. The look in his eyes; you couldn't explain it if you wanted to. 
"Bichita." You say, out of the blue. No doubt due to your poor pronunciation, he winces. "What does it mean?" 
Clicking his tongue, he waves it off. " Very vulgar, you don't want to know. I mean, I shouldn't really-"
"Hmm." Shaking your head, you feign ignorance. "It's just that Lyla said it meant sweetheart, or little bug... terms of endearment, I think was the phrase."
"She said that?" He frowns. "Lyla's filling your head with nonsense, m'afraid. It's sarcastic. Post-ironic, metatextual… it comes across completely different in Spanish, mi vida."
"Post-ironic? That's not even the second most pretentious thing you've said today…" Giggling, you bury your head into his chest. 
"Of course not. I reserve my best stuff for you."
"Real classy, O'Hara. Bet you say that to all the poor women that end up in your bed."
"Nope." He hums. "Just the ones I've been in love with for the past two years."
He pulls you closer, smiling into light kisses on your shoulder, the fat of your stomach, your thighs, on your cheek. Kisses everywhere, anywhere he can reach.
"Just you, bichita." He breathes into your skin. "Only you ."
_
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dark-fics-4-you · 6 months ago
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Old Grudges Die Hard
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dark!Bully!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Rafe Cameron had made your life hell ever since you first met him in elementary school. When you moved away for college, you thought you were finally done with your bully, but your life changes when you come face to face with him at his party a year later.
Warnings: noncon (rape), smut, unprotected sex, dacryphilia (crying & tear kink), rough sex, slapping, choking, sexual harassment, harassment, degradation, bullying, drinking, drugs
A/N: this fic begins when Reader and Rafe are in elementary school, but nothing sexual happens between them until they are 19 years old
When you were in elementary school, your parents explained to you that part of being a Pogue meant that people would hate you for absolutely no reason other than the fact that you’re poor.
Grasping your scrapped knee in pain as fat tears rolled down your cheeks, you were quick to tell your parents about the altercation at school as soon as they picked you up.
When you asked them what a ‘Pogue’ was, they exchanged a concerned look before gingerly explaining why the rude boy in your class had shoved you really hard at recess.
“B-but why would he do that?” You sobbed. “It’s so hard to make new friends here!”
“I know sweetheart,” your mother looked down at you sadly. “Is this the first time something like this has happened?”
“No! He made fun of my clothes on my first day. He said I look poor and he would know since he’s rich.” You cried louder, remembering how upset his words had made you. “A-and then all of the girls wouldn’t stop grabbing my skirt or pinching me because he told them to.”
“Have you told the teacher about this?” Your mother asked. You had reached the car now and she helped you into your seat and buckled you in.
“They just ignored me! Rafe gets away with everything,” you grumbled.
“Maybe he’s got a crush on you, Y/N,” your dad jokingly teased from the front of the car and you gagged loudly.
“Ew! No! I hate him! I would never like him in a million years!” You angrily exclaimed.
“Well, I’ll call the school and let them know he’s causing problems. He shouldn’t be able to get away with this without punishment.”
What your parents had a much harder job explaining to you was how powerful money is, and how unfair the world is.
Three parent-teacher meetings with your parents and Rafe’s accomplished little to nothing. If anything, the attention that you had brought to his behavior only made it worse.
It was remarkable how sneaky he could be in his torment of you, always waiting for the teacher’s back to turn before pinching your arm hard enough to make you scream, and bringing the teacher’s attention back to you only for you to be chastised for interrupting class.
He would accuse you of looking at his quizzes, all the while he was cheating off of you.
Any craft or art project that you worked on would mysteriously turn up damaged or missing, getting you in more trouble with the teacher for not completing work.
By the last day of 5th grade, you were thrilled to be heading off to a different middle school than Rafe.
And for three blissful years, you were safe from his cruelty. In fact, Rafe Cameron had become all but a distant memory by the time you reached high school.
Excited by your high grades in middle school and how fast you were learning the material, your parents saved up their money to put you into the best high school in Outer Banks, one that was populated mostly by rich Kooks.
You were so excited to start high school at such a nice school! It was very obvious to you that you were in Kook territory given how well funded it was, and you hoped that despite your Pogue status, you would be able to make friends.
When you realized one of your closest elementary school friends who had switched schools in the 7th grade was at the same school, you were over the moon.
Linking arms with Olivia, she gave you a quick tour of the school before leading you over to your locker. After several attempts, you opened it and loaded your things inside.
“I’ve already made so many friends and we haven’t even started classes yet!” Olivia giggled.
“Really??” You asked. If Olivia was making friends this quickly, maybe it would be okay for you.
“Yeah! And there’s sooo many cute guys here! Like Brady, Joey, Daevon, Rafe, Aaron L, Aaron R, although Aaron D is straight up fugly.”
“Wait hold on, did you say Rafe? As in Rafe Cameron?” Your stomach dropped at the thought of running into him.
Even though it had been three years and you hoped that he had changed, you couldn’t help but feel apprehension at his name.
“Oh yeah, he’s sooo cute!” Olivia gushed, looking around the hall quickly before meeting your eyes again. “Why? What’s up? Do you have a crush on him too?”
“Well, I haven’t seen him in so long, but the last time I did, he was basically my bully in elementary school,” you joked, trying to make light of the situation.
“Wait, what?? That was Rafe?!”
“What did I do?” A familiar voice from behind you made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and you swiveled around to come face to face with the last person you wanted to see right now.
His face had changed and he was obviously much taller than he had been when you last saw him (you both were), but there was no mistaking his face.
He took you in for a moment, eyes widening when he recognized you.
“No way, Y/N Y/L/N, is that really you?” His voice was incredulous and you had never wished more that you would just evaporate.
“In the flesh,” you nervously joked.
“Hi Rafe!” Olivia excitedly greeted him, but he ignored her, much to her dismay.
“Y/N um, you know…” he paused, looking a bit pained. “I uh, I feel kinda bad about how I treated you back then, that was so long ago now though.”
He laughed and you reluctantly joined in.
“But anyways, I uh- wanna make it up to you, you should come sit with my friends at lunch today.”
His offer shocked you and you couldn’t help but stare at him for a few moments with raised eyebrows.
“Is this a joke?”
“No,” he quickly responded, looking to the ground with embarrassment burning across his cheeks. “I’m just trying to be nice.”
You glanced over at Olivia who gave you an encouraging grin, looking a little jealous herself.
“Um, I guess! Thanks Rafe!” You smiled at him and he mumbled a goodbye before running off to class.
Olivia squealed with excitement before pulling you into a tight hug, “OMG!!! Y/N!! He is so into you!”
“No way! He’s probably just trying to put the past behind us,” you rolled your eyes at Olivia’s enthusiasm.
However, as lunch approached, you found butterflies growing in your stomach. Were you scared or nervous? Why?? It was just lunch. Rafe did look very different, and you couldn’t deny that he was a little cute, but you still felt anxious to see what lunch would bring.
The bell rang out, releasing you from your last class before lunch. Your stomach was in knots as you walked to the cafeteria. You grabbed your food slowly, letting people filter into the seats and trying to spot Rafe.
He confidently walked in with his friends in tow, all of them laughing loudly as they made their way to a table near the back of the cafeteria.
You swallowed your nerves, clutching your lunch tray tightly before approaching their table.
Rafe stood up, grinning at you before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and leading you to a seat before pushing you down onto it, “here, sit next to me.”
He sat beside you introducing you to all of his friends at the table, “that’s Topper, Kelce, Byce, and Joey.”
“Hi,” you nervously told the boys your name.
After meeting them, the conversation moved on to discussing all of the cool things they had done this summer. You even chimed in yourself and they all seemed interested in what you had to say.
Rafe opened his lunchbox before sighing in disappointment and chuckling, “my dumbass parents forgot the silverware again.”
He looked down at his leftover spaghetti, seemingly with no fork or spoon in sight.
Feeling like you wanted to repay Rafe for inviting you to sit with him and his friends, you told him you could grab it.
When you stood and turned to walk away, you heard the entire table break out into loud laughter.
You whipped around, nervously meeting Rafe’s eye.
“What’s so funny?” You demanded, raising your voice to cut through their snickers.
Your panic caught the attention of the students around you, who also began laughing.
“Looks like Aunt Flo is in town, Y/L/N.” Rafe cackled, and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you realized what was going on.
On the seat that you had just been in, beside Rafe, you could see red paint drying to the seat.
Without thinking, you reached behind and your heart clenched when you felt wetness on your bottom, and you looked down to see the same red paint now smeared on your hand.
Rafe and his friends burst into laughter, along with the other tables that had been nearby when you stood up.
The cacophony caught the attention of the other students seated further away, who noticed your seemingly blood stained shorts and started laughing along at you.
You had never felt so publicly shamed in your life, and you realized that you were dead wrong to assume that Rafe had changed at all.
You didn’t think he could ever turn over a new leaf now.
Hot tears sprang to your eyes as you ran out of the cafeteria, sprinting to a bathroom stall to lock yourself in as you cried.
After 5 minutes of ugly sobbing, you finally collected yourself and decided to go to the front office to see if they could help you.
Not wanting to mention the fact that you had been pranked, you tied your sweater around your waist and asked them if they had shorts you could borrow.
Luckily enough for you, they did and you were able to get changed as everyone in the lunch period filtered out to their next classes.
You grabbed a note from the office before rushing to your class, 3 minutes after the final bell had rung.
Entering the classroom, you tried to ignore the soft chuckled and looks of recognition you got, but your stomach clenched when you realized there was only one seat left.
Right in front of Rafe.
He sneered at you as you sat down, and you did your best to ignore him.
Halfway through class, his hot breath at your ear nearly made you jump out of your skin.
“Why were you so late to class, huh? Already running to mommy and daddy to tattle?” His whispered voice gave you chills and you ignored him, with great difficulty.
After whispering to you several more times and trying to get a rise out of you, he seemingly gave up.
Until you felt his finger hook underneath your bra strap at your back, pulling it back before snapping it against your skin.
You let out a gasp before spinning around in your chair to glare at him, “what’s your problem?!”
Rafe’s lips curled into a small smirk before responding, “what? I didn’t do anything.”
At this point your English teacher had noticed your outburst, walking over to you and Rafe with a stern look.
“Why are you disrupting my lesson? This better be good.”
You parted your lips, ready to respond, but Rafe beat you to it.
“I don’t know what’s going on with her, she just snapped at me,” he laid the charm on thick and you rolled your eyes.
“He’s lying!”
“Quiet, both of you! I don’t want to hear a word from either of you the rest of this class.” She chastised you, and you felt your cheeks burn with shame.
It just reminded you of him getting you in trouble years ago and you couldn’t believe that history was repeating itself.
The rest of your freshman year was no easier, with Rafe continuing to torture you and try to get you in trouble at school.
He never missed an opportunity to call you a ‘dirty Pogue,’ or shove you against the hard lockers whenever he spotted you in the hall.
Of course, no matter how many times you reported this to the school, often with witnesses, they always had their hands tied behind their back and deep in the pockets of Ward Cameron, who used his money and influence to shield his golden child of any and all consequences for his actions.
Sophomore year, his preferred method of torture was having his buddies pick on you in gym class. They would pummel you with dodgeballs as you huddled in the corner, the gym teacher laughing too hard to stop them.
Junior year, he broke into your locker, stealing all of your textbooks and breaking the locker door. Conveniently, the cameras were down that day and because you couldn’t prove that Rafe had done it, you and your parents had to pay for new textbooks and a new locker door.
Senior year, he and all of his friends on the football team took immense sadistic pleasure from whistling at and catcalling you whenever they saw you, albeit in or out of school.
You never assumed that he had suddenly had a change of heart about you and was now interested in you. No, you knew that this was just Rafe trying to get under your skin and make you as uncomfortable as possible.
To him, harassing you had clearly become a game, one that you were growing extremely weary of as it went ignored by school staff for longer and longer.
The sick grin that would spread across his face as you squirmed in front of him proved how much he enjoyed toying with you.
Despite Rafe literally chasing you down the hallway while repeatedly calling you a ‘slut’ at full volume because you had worn a shorter skirt to school than usual one time, none of the teacher or administrators ever took your side.
For four years, Rafe Cameron made your life a living hell, and you still just couldn’t understand why.
Yes, he hated Pogues, that much was clear to you after seeing his treatment of your friends, but he seemed to harbor a deeper resentment towards you than he did towards anyone else.
No one else was ever on the receiving end of such hateful and calculated behavior, and your friends all agreed that he seemed to have it out for you specifically.
When graduation rolled around, you were less excited about graduating high school than you were to finally be done with Rafe.
Considering the fact that you were off to college while he was going to community college in Outer Banks also gave you a sense of pride. Despite his wealthy background and many privileges, you were still starting your future on a better foot, looking forward to attending Duke University on a full ride scholarship.
Your first year there was a dream come true, a whirlwind of meeting new friends, working hard in your classes, and going out to parties for the first time.
Without Pogue vs Kook bullshit poisoning the air, you found that you were finally able to be yourself and find your real identity.
Dating was still somewhat new to you, but you had at the very least lost your virginity first semester of college on a hookup with a cute guy.
It wasn’t anything special, but it could have been worse, and you were just excited to get more experience as college went on.
After the second semester ended, you packed up your dorm room to move back to Outer Banks for the summer, excited to reconnect with old friends.
Which is how you found yourself in the front seat of your friend’s car, parked in the driveway outside of a huge house party as you quickly fixed your make up last minute.
“Let’s go, Y/N! My pregame buzz is already starting to wear off!” Olivia complained from the backseat and you quickly put away your makeup before giving yourself a once over in the car mirror.
“Are you really trying that hard to impress Outer Banks boys when the Duke hotties are just a summer away??” Jade asked beside you.
“I just want to be ready for whatever the night brings,” you giggled. “I’m keeping my options open for now.”
The girls laughed along with you.
“Well you look hot as fuck already, let’s gooo!” Jade opened her car door and stepped out before you could get another word in.
“Okay, fine!”
You stepped out of the car, feeling very confident in your short party dress and heels.
Walking up to the large, imposing house, you could already hear the music pulsing loudly from inside. There were people standing outside to talk and you recognized one or two of them, saying “hi!” on your way in.
Everything was much louder inside the luxurious house, which was absolutely packed with people. The deep bass of the music rumbled throughout the house, rattling around in your ribcage.
Since Olivia and Jade had gone to parties here before, you let them lead you into the kitchen where the drinks were.
A large variety of beers, hard liquor, seltzers, and jungle juice greeted you inside, but you headed straight for the jungle juice.
“Ooh it’s blue tonight!” Olivia noticed, “I bet it’s gonna be super sour.”
You poured yourself a glass before taking a sip to try it. It tasted like blue raspberry, and the alcohol level made you gag in surprise at first, but on the second try you found that you liked it a lot.
“It’s good! Wait should we all do a shot together too?” You locked eyes with your friends, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.
“Fuck yes,” Olivia cheered.
“I’m in!” Jade added and you poured out 3 shots.
Grabbing your shot glass, you raised it up, along with the other girls.
“Cheers!” You clinked them together, then tapped it down onto the table once before throwing it back.
“Okay, can we find the hot guys now?” Olivia joked and you nodded in agreement, reaching to pick up your drink.
Your hand slipped as you grabbed the plastic glass however, and it fell off the counter, spilling it’s contents all over the floor.
“Shit!” You cursed, looking around for some paper towels.
Your friends grabbed a roll off the fridge and handed it to you.
“Ugh I’m sorry!” You apologized as you got onto your hands and knees to clean up the mess. “Hey, you guys should scope out the people in the next room.”
“Ooh that’s a good idea! Let’s go Liv!” Jade grabbed Olivia by the arm and pulled her out of the kitchen, leaving you alone to mop up the sticky drink with paper towels.
“Y/N Y/L/N,” Rafe’s easily recognizable drawl made goosebumps erupt across your skin, and you froze in place. “Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
All of the sounds of the party seemed to zone out as you quickly stood up, turning to face him.
When you looked up at the man who now towered far above you, you could tell that he had changed in the year since you last saw him.
Rafe had never been a skinny guy, especially when he had played football throughout high school, but now he seemed more ripped than you had ever seen him. Clearly he had been using a lot of his time away from school to build up his physique.
You also noticed that he seemed to have grown into his face more, looking more lean and handsome than he did in high school.
The smirk that was plastered on his face was all too familiar to you though. It was the look he always had when he was playing games with you.
“Hi, Rafe,” you nervously answered. “I could say the same.”
He paused, his gaze flitting down before slowly working its way up your body. His blue eyes narrowed as they met yours and you repressed a full body shiver.
“It’s my house,” he took a step closer to you and you instinctively took one back. He chuckled at that. “That’s why I’m so surprised to see you, ‘specifically looking so dolled up.”
His words surprised you and you mentally kicked yourself for not pressing the girls for more details about whose party you were going to.
Honestly you were just surprised and a little hurt that Olivia and Jade would choose to bring you here knowing your history with Rafe.
“I- I had no clue this was your house,” you stammered, taking another step back to create more space between you and the taller man.
Despite the muffled sounds of the party around you, and the knowledge that your friends were just down the hall, you felt so incredibly alone in the now all too cramped kitchen.
“How’s Duke been treating you?” His face was even, but his nasally tone betrayed a hint of disdain.
“It’s been…” you paused, unsure what the best thing to say would be. “It’s been really good. My first year was easier than I expected, but still interesting.”
He was silent, just studying your face for a moment. Rafe’s nose twitched before he let out a flat, “that’s good.”
Already feeling a heightened anxiety from being around him, and feeling distrustful about his questions, you were ready to exit this conversation.
With your drink clutched in your hand, you made a weak excuse about needing to catch up with Olivia and Jade before trying to walk around him.
You were shocked however when he suddenly moved as you walked by, his fingers wrapping around your arm just above your elbow and stopping you in your tracks.
“What are you doing? Let go of me,” You demanded, looking up at him in confusion and trying to tug your arm out of his grasp.
He moved in front of you, blocking your exit path with his grip still firm on your arm.
“C’mon, wait a second, I- I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. I know I was really an asshole to you when we were younger, but that was so long ago, y’know? Could you just let me apologize to you?”
His words came out somewhat stammered, but still confident, and due to the forced proximity you could probably deduce why.
Rafe’s pupils were blown wide, his free hand gesturing in a jittery manner that could only point to one conclusion.
He was high as fuck.
“Please just- let go of me!” You begged with him again.
His eyes darkened, jaw tightening in annoyance as he looked down his nose at you. Rafe huffed, his lips parting to say something else but he was interrupted.
“Hey, what the fuck is going on here?”
You had never felt happier to hear Olivia’s voice. Glancing over Rafe’s shoulder, you could see her and Jade standing in the doorway glaring at Rafe.
Rafe immediately released you and you quickly rushed over to your friends.
“We were just catching up,” Rafe spoke with a casual ease as he turned to face you, like he hadn’t just corned you all alone at his party. It reminded you of all of the times you had tried to report him to teachers, only for him to sweet talk his way out of punishment.
“See ya around, Y/N.”
You shot him a dirty look before rushing out of the kitchen with Olivia and Jade in tow.
“What was that??” Jade asked as soon as the three of you were in the crowded living room.
“Better question, did you guys know this was Rafe Cameron’s house?” You angrily asked them.
You were still feeling shaken by the interaction. Maybe you should have anticipated that he would at the very least be at this party, but you had never expected he would be the one hosting it.
Olivia’s face dropped and she anxiously apologized, “Oh shit, I’m sorry. I honestly figured we wouldn’t run into him since there’s always just so many people here.”
“It’s okay,” you sighed. “He’s just being his normal, weird and creepy self. We probably won’t even see him again the rest of the night.”
You took a large swig of your drink to calm your nerves.
What this night needed was a distraction from Rafe Cameron, and you, Jade, and Olivia were still determined to have a good time tonight.
The three of you walked through the large house, coming across many familiar faces from high school.
Even while catching up with old friends though, you felt incredibly uneasy.
The feeling that there was a pair of eyes trained on you was burning at the back of your neck, and you weren’t surprised when you peeked behind yourself at one point to spot Rafe standing about 10 feet away among a group of guys.
Even when you met his gaze, his eyes didn’t flick away, and you shivered as he took a long drink from his solo cup, eyes never leaving yours.
Turning away from him and tuning your attention back into your friends, you couldn’t help but question yourself.
Were you crazy or was he looking at you differently?
The only times that he had even shown any interest in talking with you was before he was about to publicly humiliate you in some horrible way, but this time felt different.
There was something more behind his eyes that you couldn’t identify that raised alarms in your head.
No matter where you, Jade, and Olivia went, it seemed like Rafe wasn’t far behind. Despite joining the different groups nestled just out of view, you would catch a glimpse of him that would spike your pulse.
Your paranoia didn’t want you to get another drink. You felt almost unreasonably nervous about what might happen if Rafe trapped you alone, but you felt reassured by Jade and Olivia’s presence, emboldening you to serve yourself one more cup of the jungle juice.
That confidence quickly fizzled however, when halfway through finishing your drink, Jade found a cute guy to hook up with and split off from you and Olivia.
Olivia was quick to leave as well, despite your pleas that she stay with you, “there’s plenty of people you know here, Y/N! Just lighten up a bit, you’ll be fine!”
With neither of your friends beside you, you suddenly felt very alone and you looked around the room, hoping to find any high school acquaintances you could catch up with to avoid the awkward nervousness you felt right now.
Unluckily, you didn’t recognize anyone, so you threw back the rest of your drink and started making the rounds.
Downstairs yielded no results, so you made your way upstairs, hoping to find either Olivia and Jade or other friends to talk to.
You checked several rooms only to be unsuccessful in finding anyone that you knew.
Jade and Olivia hadn’t been responding to your texts and you were starting to get annoyed.
Upon finding another empty bedroom, you frustratedly sat down, pulling your phone out of your pocket to call one of them.
The sound of the door closing caught your attention, and you raised your head to see Rafe Cameron standing in front of the now closed bedroom door.
“Rafe?” Confusion tinged your shaky voice as you sat up, staring at him in the dimly lit room.
He got closer to the bed, never taking his eyes off of you. “D’you have any clue how crazy you drove me all through high school?”
A pit began to form in your stomach at his words and your throat felt tight as you looked up at the imposing blond.
His hair was disheveled, words slurring together as his angry blue eyes cut through you.
“What the hell are you talking about? If I remember correctly, you were the one torturing me!” You snipped back at him.
“You have no idea-” he sniffed, rubbing a shaky finger under his nose. “You think you’re so much better than me, hm?”
Rafe took another step closer and you shrunk in on yourself nervously, eyes darting to the door behind his looming figure. He seemed much more drunk and high now, a fact that made you even more uncomfortable.
“I- I don’t think that Rafe,” you stammered. “I never said that-”
“You didn’t have to, Y/N,” he bitterly sneered. “Y’moved out of Outer Banks for a year and now you think that makes you feel so high and mighty around the rest of us.”
“Rafe-”
“What makes you so special, hm?” He spat out, moving closer, now inches away from where you sat on the bed.
Your body was buzzing with anxious energy, but you felt frozen to the spot, completely caught off guard by this outburst from Rafe. There was nothing you could do to get yourself to move.
You had encountered Rafe when he had been drunk or high several times before, he was no stranger to coming to high school intoxicated. But you had never been trapped alone with him and completely at his mercy before and you couldn’t push down the nagging feeling that something awful was about to happen if you didn’t leave the room.
“You’re just Pogue trash, and let’s be real, it won’t be long till you fail out of college and you’re walking the streets of Outer Banks like the slut you are,” he growled and your cheeks heated up in anger.
You brought one arm up to push him back from you, but he snatched your wrist, fingers tightening around you painfully.
You let out a cry when he twisted your arm behind your back and he chuckled at the tears kissing your waterline.
“Still just the same uptight bitch you’ve always been, huh?” His eyes flitted down to your lips for a moment. He was so close you could clearly smell the alcohol on his hot breath.
“Let go of me, Rafe,” you whispered, voice shaking with fear. Sure, Rafe had been a nightmare before, but you never even imagined he would take it this far.
The taller man let out a short chuckle that sent a chill up your spine.
“Or what?” He smirked down at you, clearly enjoying your dismay at the situation he had forced you into. “Gonna tattle to a teacher?”
Your chest and throat felt tight, panic beginning to build inside you as you tried to deny what you were sure couldn’t be true.
“This isn’t fucking funny, Rafe.” You weakly tried, desperately hoping that this was just another one of his twisted pranks that he was taking too far to watch you squirm.
“You still think this is a joke, sweetheart?” He sneered, Figure Eight cockiness dripping from his nasally voice.
Time seemed to slow as Rafe leaned down, his lips covering yours as he released your wrist and locked his arm around the small of your back.
For a moment you were too shocked to react, but you quickly reached one arm up to push at his chest. Instead of pushing him away from you however, your force made you fall back against the bed, bringing him down with you.
He shamelessly grabbed at your waist, before trailing up, hands reaching past the neckline of your dress and traveling up to grope your tits as his lips found yours again.
You could barely process what was happening, your head still spinning from the alcohol. Rafe’s lips moved against yours, trailing across your cheek when your turned your head away from him to gasp for air.
One of his hands roughly grabbed your chin, pulling your jaw back towards him, and your stomach flipped at the feeling of him pushing his tongue into your mouth and groaning into the kiss.
When he shifted on top of you, grabbing your legs and spreading them apart, you struggled against him. Squirming on the bed, you managed to crawl away from him a bit, but his large hands grabbed your legs, pulling you back underneath him.
You froze when his fingers wrapped around your throat and you looked up at him with wide, nervous eyes.
“Stop fucking moving,” he huffed, forcing his free hand between your legs. He roughly pushed your dress up, pausing when he drank in your pink, lacy panties underneath.
Rafe licked his lips, a cruel smirk spreading across his face, “guess you’re not so innocent anymore, huh?”
Tears filled your eyes as you squirmed beneath him and the hand at your throat pressed down harder, pinning you in place.
His fingers ghosted over your core and you tilted your hips away from him, squeezing your thighs shut against his wandering hand.
Rafe’s eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, his blue eyes darkening as he scowled down at you.
“Y’know, I was almost gonna be nice to you…” His scowl disappeared as he trailed off, his pink lips curving into a sick grin. “But if you want to make this difficult, I can make it difficult too.”
You watched with fearful eyes as he reared one hand back, unable to flinch away due to his iron grip on your throat.
The cacophony of the party muffled your cry of pain when he slapped you hard. His golden rings made your cheek sting even more and you couldn’t stop your tears from spilling over.
Your ears were still ringing when you felt his hand leave your throat, but you were too dazed from the slap to react. Rafe’s impatient fingers dug into the skin of your thighs as he pulled your panties down your legs.
Time slowed as you could hear your heart thundering in your chest and you leaned up on your elbows to watch Rafe push his shorts down before palming his already hard cock. He was bigger than the guy you lost your virginity to, and much thicker.
Tongue thick and heavy in your mouth, you tried to tell him to stop, but the blood was rushing in your ears so loudly you couldn’t hear your own voice.
Rafe heard you though, and you watched him roll his eyes before ignoring your pleas.
He shifted on top of you, roughly parting your legs before placing himself between them. The blond wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, guiding it to your core and you struggled beneath him when he dragged the tip along your already slick lips.
“Fuck-” his low groan made your stomach flip. You reached up one hand to weakly push at his shoulders, but he swatted you away.
There was nothing you could do but watch as he planted one hand on the mattress to brace himself before pushing the tip of his cock between your folds and forcing himself inside your tight cunt.
“Rafe-” Your protest was cut off when his hand slapped over your mouth. Hot tears fell past your lashes as Rafe slowly stretched you out inch by inch.
His piercing eyes never left yours, watching your face with a sick delight as he violated you.
You shifted uncomfortably beneath him as he split you open, and you winced when he grabbed your arm, fingers digging in to your tender flesh.
You whimpered when his tip grazed your cervix. The blond tilted his hips back before pushing himself deep into you again.
Rafe let out a shaky breath, his cock twitching as you squeezed around him.
“Shit, if I knew you felt this good, I would’ve tried you out years ago,” he chuckled darkly, words slurring together.
His hand was removed from your mouth only to be replaced by his lips. You shuddered when he forced his tongue into your mouth, and you could taste the liquor on his lips.
Rafe pulled away from the kiss as he slowly began rocking his hips back and forth, stretching you out around his thick cock again and again.
Your hands came to his shoulders, nails digging in to his tanned skin as you tried to slow his pace.
Unfortunately, your attempts only amused Rafe, who sneered down at you cruelly before picking up his pace, forcing himself deep into your snug walls.
Intoxication clouded your mind, and the room seemed to be spinning even faster now.
“Fuck-” you moaned when he hit a spot that made you see stars. “Mm please-”
You were momentarily broken from the spell however when one of Rafe’s strong hands wrapped around your throat, stealing your breath.
When you tensed in fear, involuntarily squeezing around his cock, Rafe groaned, watching your misty, fearful eyes roll back in your head with each thrust.
“You look so pretty right now, Y/N. All teary eyed and cock drunk,” the blond whispered.
You wanted so badly to be able to escape, to avoid the wicked things he was doing to you, but you were so painfully aware, as every sensation was heightened by your terror.
Hips still snapping against yours, Rafe leaned down, his hungry lips finding yours. With his hand at your throat, you couldn’t turn away, and you clenched around him when he pushed his tongue into your mouth. His lips slid over yours greedily, refusing to stop until you clutched at the hand at your throat.
You took a gasping breath when he finally pulled away, your tears falling more freely now, and Rafe kissed your cheeks, licking up your salty tears.
“Perfect little Y/N is such a mess, huh?” He mocked you, mumbling against your skin before sloppily kissing you again.
You couldn’t deny the overwhelming feeling building between your legs, no matter how much it disgusted you. Shame clutched you when you felt yourself growing slicker with his every thrust.
“Don’t-” you whimpered when he hit a sensitive spot. “Stop-!”
Your assailant snickered at that, relishing your pitiful protests, “do you even know what you want right now? Y’think you’re so smart, till you take some cock and you turn into a stupid slut.”
His degrading words cut deep and your cheeks flushed in humiliation, tears spilling past your lashes.
Rafe’s pace was downright punishing, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass along with the lewd sounds of your wetness filled the room, punctuated by your whimpers and the coerced moans he drew out of you.
Hatred and resentment burned behind his blue eyes as he watched you squirm beneath him, only taking his eyes off of your face to watch his cock push in and out of your tight cunt.
Drawing even closer to the edge, you could feel the dam inside of you ready to burst, and Rafe could too; you were practically pulsing around him now.
“Yeah, that’s it sweetheart.” His low, nasally voice made your stomach flip, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to resist the inevitable. “Just do the one thing stupid sluts like you are good for and make a mess all over my cock.”
With another thrust, the dam burst, and you whined as your orgasm cut through you.
Rafe fucked you through it, cursing when he felt you squeezing around him like a vice. His grip on your throat tightened as his pace reached a crescendo.
“Fuck-” he growled, his hips stuttering before he pushed deep into you one more time, painting your walls with his sticky cum.
You squirmed beneath him, trying to push him off of you, but he easily grabbed your wrists, pining them down as he stayed buried inside you. You felt nauseous when his cock pulsed as you struggled, the reminder that he was still getting off on your distress was sickening.
His lips draped over yours again and you whimpered into the kiss, body still shaking as you tried to wrap your head around what had just happened.
By the time he broke the kiss, your head was spinning, and you somehow felt more drunk than when you had first entered the room.
When Rafe finally pulled out of you, you shuddered because you could feel his cum slowly leaking out of you.
Instead of getting off the bed like you expected, the blond shifted on top of you, lowering himself to get a better view of your sore pussy.
“Shit, Y/N, hope you’re on a good birth control,” he chuckled wickedly, and you squirmed when he used two fingers to push his cum deep inside of your sensitive cunt. “Cause there’s no way in hell I’m paying child support for some Pogue brat.”
Your cheeks burned in anger and shame, fear and disgust sparking in your gut at his words.
Rafe pulled his fingers out and climbed off the bed, quickly pulling his clothes back on before seemingly looking around for something as you slowly sat up.
He found what he was looking for, picking up your pink panties from the ground before locking eyes with you and then stuffing them into his pocket.
You shivered as he triumphantly smirked down at you, “I’m gonna.. get back to the party... You should clean yourself up, you look pathetic right now.”
Embarrassed, you looked down at the bed, not wanting to meet his eyes as he further humiliated you.
“And uh, don’t let me catch you alone again, Y/N,” Rafe sneered, laughing as he closed the door behind him.
2K notes · View notes
covenofagatha · 3 months ago
Text
But you're my stepmom! (Part 10)
Word count: 2600+
Warnings: oral, bathroom sex, strap-on, smut, mommy kink, little bit of angst at first
Author's note: so sorry this took so long to post lol things have been crazy
Taglist (hope I didn't miss anyone, and if I did, I'm so sorry!): @stayevildarling@i-just-cannot@hazey-g@buttercandy16@320viada@evilangels-stuff@rmaximoff@morganismspam23@aboutcustardcreams@sasheemo@rigglemethat@walkethisway@mommywandas@r-3-becca@harknessshi@ihaveawifebutwerenotmarriedyet@polaris-likethestar@ahintofchaos @dorabledewdroop @toomanylesbiancouples @accidentally-made-a-sideblog @chiar4anna @lonelyhalfwitch
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When you had found out your dad was cheating on your mom two years ago, you could feel the numbness seeping into every crack and crevice in your body. You remember looking at his phone while you two were watching a tv show and seeing the dirty texts he sent to a woman he used to work with. He was never very subtle about texting her, and you just had a feeling. Deep down, you knew what you were going to find. 
That didn’t mean it still didn't hurt. 
The betrayal, the anger, the sadness. They all rushed over you but you’re still not really sure if you actually felt any of it. You were in a daze for the rest of the day, the need to scream building in your throat gradually. 
You finally couldn’t take it anymore and you went for a run the next day, which is something you never would usually do. The thumping of your feet against the pavement sounded like why? why? why? Why would he do this? Why would he choose her over his family? You ran until it felt like your legs were on fire and your lungs were about to burst until you finally doubled over, bit down on your hand, and let the guttural scream claw its way out of you. Your teeth had broken your skin and you could still see the small white scar if you flexed your hand just right. 
After that, you locked the pain somewhere deep down inside you. You hadn’t even gotten to really confront him about it.
But when Agatha says that your dad is having an affair, you feel your stomach drop and somewhere, the buried feelings start begging to get free, rattling on the bars of their enclosure. 
“What?” You ask quietly, a lump growing in your throat as you crane your head up to look at her. Your hand on her stomach stalls. She has a distant look in her eyes. 
“Monday night after you left, your dad couldn’t find his phone so we were looking for it. I found it on the kitchen table while he was looking in his office and he had just gotten a text. I glanced at it and it was from a woman.” Agatha doesn’t continue, but you can only imagine what the text said. 
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, the lump getting bigger. You remember making that mean comment to her the first night you got dinner about him cheating again. 
She laughs ironically. “I guess I can’t be mad. I mean, look at us.”  
You glance up at her to meet her sardonic eyes. “Yeah, but look at who you cheated on versus who he did. I’m sure this other woman isn’t even half as hot as you are.” 
She softly smiles and then leans down to peck your lips with hers. “That’s sweet of you to say, honey.” 
“So what are you going to do?” 
She sighs deeply and starts gently tugging on the ends of your hair. “I don’t know. Confront him? Get a divorce? I’ve spent the last two days just trying to figure something out.” 
Her cold silence makes sense now. So does the way she fucked you earlier. 
You turn your head and press a kiss to her bare shoulder. “I’m sorry,” you repeat, because what else is there to say? “Is there anything I can do to help?” 
Her fingers tighten in your hair and they pull to tilt your head so you’re looking right at her. “I can think of something,” she says, a teasing lilt in her voice. 
“Oh, yeah?” Your eyebrow raises and she smirks with a daring nod. “Anything for my step-mother.” 
You kiss down her stomach, making sure to sink your teeth into her delectable abs and suck hard. She moans and arches her back off the bed. Soon enough, her midsection is littered with red marks and fuck, it’s hot. 
If your dad is too much of a fucking idiot to appreciate this woman, you’ll just have to take matters into your own hands. 
You settle between her thighs on the bed and slowly drag your tongue up the inside of her right thigh. A noise slips out from her lips and you do the same thing on the other side to hear it again. 
“Stop teasing, baby,” she warns in a low voice. She’s glistening. 
You chuckle and then lick up through her folds. She groans and raises her hips so you can get in closer. Your tongue swirls around her clit. 
“Fuck,” she swears under her breath. You begin to lap at her, heat growing between your own legs at the way her breath stutters and her thighs begin to shake. 
“Did he ever make you feel like this?” You ask, words garbled since your mouth is full of her cunt. But she rolls her hips on her face seemingly involuntarily, so you know she understood. 
“Never,” she says breathlessly and you pick up the pace, swirling and sucking, wanting her to feel good. 
She cums quickly and then she pulls you up into a deep kiss, tongue moving over yours to taste herself. 
“What does this mean for us?” You wonder aloud after she cleans your face and you both are cuddling again. If Agatha and your father get divorced, will this affair end? Will it become more?
“What do you want it to mean?” 
“I don’t know,” you say, because you don’t. “I like this, though.” 
She kisses your forehead and you can feel her smiling against you. “I do, too.” 
***
Dinner tonight with Agatha and I? is what your dad texts you the next day while you’re at school. You frown and quickly shoot Agatha a text about it. The two of you hadn’t spoken any more about what she was going to do about your father’s infidelity so you just want to be aware if you’re walking into a trap. You’re not sure you can take another dinner where your dad sits you down and tells you that he’s getting a divorce. 
Agatha responds that she hasn’t talked to him yet. You did know that he was away on business – although, that could just be code for having an affair – so he hasn’t been home. And you don’t think Agatha would be one to confront him over the phone. 
You text your dad back that you’ll be there. You’re curious to see what it’s about. 
The rest of the day passes quickly while you worry about what dinner could bring. You take a quick shower when you get home from school and put on a casual black dress. You don’t really care about looking nice for whatever restaurant you go to, you just want to look good for Agatha. Your mouth almost waters at the thought of whatever she will wear. She always manages to look ethereal. 
Your phone buzzes with a message from Agatha. Your father is meeting us at the restaurant. I’m outside. 
You can sense the tension radiating off the older woman the moment you step outside. She tersely watches you walk over to her car and slide into the passenger seat. Agatha’s wearing pants with a silky button down shirt and she looks hot. 
“Hey, baby,” she says, leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek. 
“You okay?” 
She grimaces and puts her sunglasses on. “I’ve barely talked to him since he left on his trip. He just asked if the three of us could get dinner.” 
Your brow furrows. “Are you going to say anything tonight?” 
Agatha purses her lips and reaches over to pat your leg. “I wouldn’t do that with you there. I’m not putting you in the middle of this.” 
Your heart warms because your mother did not hesitate to put you in the middle of her problems with your dad. She had broken almost every boundary and turned you into her therapist, and it now fills you with immense gratitude that Agatha won’t do that. 
Even though you are very much in the middle of it, with you and her having sex and all. 
“Thank you.” 
You both launch into small talk until you pull into the restaurant parking lot, where you see your dad waiting out front. Your stomach begins to sink just at the sight of him. 
You can’t believe he did it again. 
“Sweetheart, are you alright?” Agatha asks, voice tight with worry. She must see how you’re looking at him through the window. You’ve never opened up about your parents with her, but you can tell that she at least partly knows how you must be feeling. 
You clench your jaw and steel your nerves. “I’m good.” 
You try to not get angry when your dad’s face lights up at the sight of the two of you. 
“My favorite girls!” He booms and pulls you both into a hug. You can feel how tense Agatha is and you’re sure you feel the same. “How are we?”
“Good,” you mutter and Agatha says something along the lines of that as well. 
He made a reservation so you’re immediately led to a booth tucked in the back of the restaurant. You sit opposite your dad and Agatha doesn’t hesitate before sliding in next to you. 
“How was your trip?” Agatha asks, tone laced with something sharp like she’s trying to catch him in an act. 
Before he can answer, the waitress comes over. She looks a few years older than you, with brown hair and pretty blue eyes. Almost like a younger version of Agatha, you think. She takes your drink orders, her gaze lingering a bit too long on you as you ask for a sprite. 
You can see Agatha scowling at her out of the corner of your eye. 
Your dad starts talking about his work when she leaves but you suddenly lose all focus when Agatha slowly moves her hand to your thigh and grips it possessively. 
She clearly does not like the waitress, who comes back a few minutes later with your drinks. Fully aware of this, you reach out to take your sprite from the waitress and your fingers brush right in front of Agatha’s face.
Her nails dig into your leg and you subtly smirk at her. Her eyes have completely darkened. 
After everyone orders food, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. You’ve started throbbing from the tight hold Agatha has on you – both literally and figuratively – and you’re not sure you’ll last another minute without some relief. 
Just as you push open the door, someone grabs your wrist and shoves you inside. You gasp and whirl around, fear clenching your heart, only to find that it’s Agatha. 
She closes the door behind her and locks it. You’re so thankful it’s a single-person bathroom. 
Agatha advances and you step back until you hit the sink. 
“I know what you’re doing,” she hisses, trapping you against it by putting her hands on either side of you. 
“What do you mean, mommy?” You ask innocently, enjoying the way her dark eyes flash. Her hand comes up to wrap around your throat and a thrill runs through you. You’re sure you’re absolutely dripping now. 
“You were making eyes at that dirty waitress,” she accuses. “Looks like you need a reminder of who you belong to.” 
Before you can ask what she means, she flips you over so the sink is cutting into your hip bones and you can see the reflection of you both in the mirror. You look like a mess. And she looks like she is enjoying every bit of it. 
And then she grinds her front against you and you feel something hard in her pants. You watch your mouth fall open in the mirror. 
“You-” You don’t even have the words and the ache inside you is only getting worse. A smug smile spreads across her face as she reaches down to unzip her pants. Her other hand moves your underwear to the side, not even bothering to take it off.
She drags her strap-on up and down your slit, laughing cruelly at the way your hips move to try to get her inside. 
“Please,” you whine, feeling empty. 
She leans down so she can whisper in your ear, “Who do you belong to?” 
“You, mommy,” you say desperately and you let out a loud moan when she finally pushes into you.
“Be quiet,” she jeers and spanks you hard. You bite down on your lip to keep from moaning, but also to keep from telling her that spanking makes noise, too.
She sets a rough pace from the beginning, grabbing onto your hips with bruising force. You let out little gasps as she thrusts into you, over and over, already bringing you close to the edge. She reaches around you with one hand and starts rubbing your clit and your head falls forward in pleasure. 
Agatha pauses for a second so she can yank you back up by your hair. “Look at yourself,” she says, forcing you to watch yourself in the mirror. She resumes her fast pace. “Look at how well you’re taking my cock for me. Look at how much of a slut you are for me.” When she calls you a slut, you physically can’t stop the sound that comes out of your mouth. 
“Mommy, please,” you pant, your entire body feeling like a livewire. “Wanna cum.”
“Do you think a brat like you deserves to cum after making mommy jealous like that?” 
“M’sorry, mommy, I’ll be good,” you practically cry. You meet every thrust, eyes rolling back in your head from how perfect she feels. Your body is on edge from all the effort it’s taking to not cum. “Need to, so close.”
“Who do you belong to?” 
“You, only you,” you sob. 
“Good girl,” she says, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. “Cum for me, sweetheart.” 
Two more thrusts and a rub of your clit and you cum all over her cock. It’s explosive and you bite on your lip so hard that you taste blood. She begins to slow down as you come back down to earth and you rest your head against the mirror to recover. 
Someone knocks on the door and you freeze since your step-mother is buried to the hilt inside of you at this current moment. 
But she just sweetly calls, “Occupied!” and you can’t help but laugh breathlessly. She pulls out of you and you wince. 
“Wow,” you say as she helps you clean up. “You know I wasn’t flirting with the waitress, right?” 
She smirks and pulls you in for a deep kiss. “I know, baby. I just couldn’t spend another minute listening to your dad talk.”
“Join the club.” 
You feel like everyone is watching the two of you as you make your way back to the table, but in reality, they’re not. Your dad is on his phone texting someone – you think you see a woman’s name at the top – but he quickly swipes out of it when he notices that you both have come back. You glance at Agatha just in time to see her eye twitching. 
“There you ladies are! I thought you had gotten lost. Everything okay?” He asks. You think you’re just imagining the condescending tone, but Agatha stiffens next to you so maybe not. 
“Actually yeah,” she says. “I’m filing for divorce.” You gape at her as she spins on her heel and walks away. 
You turn your head back to your dad, who looks back at you, dumbfounded. 
“Sweet pea-” he starts but you hold up your hand to cut him off. 
“No. Fuck you. You don’t deserve anyone.” 
And then you leave to follow Agatha, feeling suddenly like the weight inside you has finally lifted. 
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jweekgoji · 2 months ago
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hello, you can resquest scenery, TFO Orion Pax, D-16, B-127 and Sentinel wait for their Conjux femme reader to give birth to their Sparkling. (about the others except Sentinel, where they go to the surface and return to Iacon and it would be that they meet their newborn Sparkling)
TFO Chars/Pregnant!Femme!Reader [hcs]
featuring: Orion Pax, D-16, B-127, Sentinel Prime tw: pregnancy, very brief mentions of violence, slighty yandere!Megs by the end, mixture of fluff/angst. word count: ~1940 a/n: I hope I understood your request well. Feel free to correct me if I did something wrong so I can remake it.
Orion Pax.
I feel like Orion (cogless, since it's before they went to the surface) is probably that typical young dad that has no idea how to take care of a child and might as well set on fire the kitchen in attempts to warm the bottle of energon for the sparkling.
But! He is very enthusiastic about it, and he supports you in every way he can; it's just that he lacks any real experience with it. Reading in the archives about sparklings, pregnancy and how to be a good mentor is easy; the hardest thing is to actually deal with it.
There is a big possibility that you are also cogless like him, and I'm not sure Sentinel actually cares about poor pregnant miners to give them at least a one-day off. Your supervisors would constantly remind you to continue working, since there's always a big need for energon.
Orion often picks up fights because of it. Can't those big bullies see that you're sparked? You need rest and good care, not lifting heavy equipment...As usual, he gets scolded by Elita for not doing his job properly, but he makes sure that he helps you with everything. You can rest during your shift, while Orion is happily working for both of you, so you won't be reported to the higher-ups. It's a little hard, but there is nothing he wouldn't do for you.
Following my last statement and the previous headcanons, Orion desperately wants the best future for all Cybertronians. He hates the thought that his sparkling will grow up in the same place as him. No actual home, no equality, only hatred from the others. That's when he sees the opportunity to change the future, he grasps onto it.
It pains Orion to leave you in Iacon. It wasn't really his fault, though. He would have come back to you after the Iacon 5000 race immediately if it wasn't for Darkwing throwing him on sublevel 50, and the next events after that...
Orion gains the maturity he lacked, and with realization of his other past mistakes, he also understands how careless he was before. You're probably scared to death without him; he left you without a word, and now you have to only guess where your conjunx is. How stressed you will be after someone tells you that he's dead.
Just as much as it scares him and makes him angry at himself, it also motivates him for more. No matter what, he will come back to you.
The moment he sees you, he is relieved. The reunion looks awkward, his form towering over your smaller one, but that doesn't bother either of you. When he finally meets the sparkling, his own little spark, all the pain from the last battle is gone.
Orion swears to you that he will never leave you alone after today; with a new spark born in this world, there is a hope. How meaningful it is for his own child to be born the day the Iacon becomes free.
D-16
Just like Orion, D-16 has a little to no idea how to take care of the sparkling. If his best friend will be so happy to be a sire, D-16 has mixed emotions about this.
Don't get me wrong, he is excited about it just like you, but D-16 is the bot who is reluctant when it comes to going against the rules. He is not sure if this is actually the right place and time for the sparkling to be born now. Both of you are cogless, and there is no great future for you. Maybe after countless cycles ago he can get a higher position, a bit better life, but will it be enough to raise someone so young?
Even then, he shows you that he is happy. He doesn't want you to think that he hates the idea just because he's not so sure about your current life.
D-16 is a naturally strong bot, probably one of the strongest when compared to other miners. He gets extra affectionate with his conjunx, holding you close and maybe even carrying you around if you show him the tiniest sign that you're tired. He is really sweet.
As Orion drags him into the race, he begins to slowly lose his cool. His outburst in the cave after finding out about the truth is even stronger. The betrayal, pain, the sick feeling of worry about you and his sparkling. If only Orion didn't drag him into that damn race, he would have been with you, making sure that you're safe, none of that would have happened.
The frustration boils over with each step he makes. He needs to come back to Iacon, to you, but first, he has to get rid of the one who caused the cycles of pain and humiliation.
 The time D-16 gets his servos on Sentinel, ripping him apart in front of anyone, he thinks it is the only way to solve everything. Only he can fix it, and only he can trust himself with protecting you.
You weren't there to see him deal with Sentinel, thankfully. It is for the best to avoid all the stress it could have caused if you saw him. Your dear conjunx is seething with hatred. Sentinel took many things from him; he wasn't even able to be there with you when your sparkling was born. D-16 Megatron will cherish both of you forever, and he will make sure to raise his little one as strong as him, so they won't live through the same events as D-16 was.
B-127
Oh, this one is a little too sad to speculate. Let's say, both of you are cogless but met each other a long time ago before you two ended up on sublevel 50. The moment you two failed to please the higher-ups and also the moment you find out that you're sparked up. What bad timing!
B-127 seems to be more happy than you are when he realizes that he is going to be a sire. A little too happy. Even though he doesn't fully understand it. You might go like, “You're going to be a sire, Bee” and then he hits you with, “I am sparked up??” which is kind of funny. Is that really your man?
Out of other bots, I can see  🐝 being the best sire ever. Of course, he gets a little confused, but who wouldn't be if they dealt with their first child? You try to explain to him everything you know about the topic, and he quickly catches up on it.
B-127 is already thinking about the names. Does Badasstron Junior sound like a good name for sparkling? Or maybe he should practice combining your names together? Anyway, it really helps him not to get insane down here. Having you around is good for Bee's mental health, though you're not so sure how much time passed since you were demoted.
Even then, Bee shows his caring side. He does get serious when the situation really needs it, so he is constantly tied to your hip because he wants you and the sparkling to be safe. The conditions are not great, but he makes the best of it. No matter how bad it gets, he always makes you smile, even though sometimes he has no strength to keep his cheerfulness.
Bee is happy to have more new friends and to partake in the journey of finding the matrix of leadership, but he doesn't want you to get hurt. That's why (with tears in his optics) you two agree that you should stay. But hey, it will probably not take too much time. He will come back with his new friends to Iacon with the matrix; the energon will flow again, so there's no need for you to stay!
Bee doesn't stop yapping about the fact that he is going to be a sire to Elita. This fella just likes to talk and when he sees the opportunity, he doesn't miss it! Poor Elita has to listen to him how hard it is to choose the name for the baby, or how he is going to be the best sire ever once the group comes back. Ohh, did you know that he also really-really loves you? And his sparkling? Elita barely handles him, but even though she never met you, she knows everything about you.
After Bee comes back to Iacon, he almost faints. First he got a cog, then met the high guard, got a job with the government, AND became a sire? When he sees his sparkling, he feels a little sad that he wasn't there with you, but he will compensate it in no time. Every little move your sparkling makes is cheered by,  and Primus have mercy on the poor bots around him. He is probably that dad who will show you the pictures of his kids...
Sentinel Prime
Being a conjunx of Sentinel has its own perks. Lucky you, no work for you! It will be too bad if you get sparked up and cogless, huh?
Sentinel is a busy bot. There is always work waiting for him, especially the oh so important ‘‘searching for matrix of leadership’ thing. Even then, when he is in Iacon, there are lots of paper jobs and meetings  being here and there since everything should be personally controlled by him.
One of the cons while being sparked up and being conjunx of Sentinel is that he doesn't have much time for you. By the end of the day, he always comes back to your quarters, but it's just so lonely without him! You're always surrounded by the guards, the medics, but they can never replace the presence of your loved one.
All the changes in your body don't help at all, the mood swings, the certain energon cravings in the middle of the night, so-so hard to deal with, but he's a Prime, after all, so that shouldn't trouble him that much...
Sentinel might be a little irritated with it. When you wake him up, just to ask for something Primus-knows-what-next, that will probably take hours to search for, but he has no strength to deny you. If his conjunx wants it, he gets it!
I like to think that Sentinel is probably always aware of your and sparkling's health, but in a slightly concerning way. Yes, he can miss one or two meetings at the doctor's with you, but that doesn't mean he is ignorant. Everything is reported straight to him, so if anything, he will drop his work and join you. There is also a looong track of every checkup you had, and he has a timer that counts seconds to when the sparkling is born.
Imagine how annoyed Sentinel is when he gets humiliated by the quintessons and misses the birth of his sparkling? He practically scowls when someone reports him about it and totally has to restrain himself from strangling someone on his way to Iacon, but he manages it somehow.
Sentinel's mood quickly replaced with warmth for you and the sparkling, even though inside his head, he is still annoyed. How could he miss it? When he planned everything to the last second? The one thing that keeps his mind occupied is the little one he has in his servos. He's not going to leave you two again. At least, when he still can.
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cosmicmunsonwrites · 3 months ago
Text
but you belong to me
bf!rafe cameron x fem!pogue!reader
Tumblr media
cw — p in v, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, dumbification, jealousy, rough sex
summary — after rafe sees another guy “flirting” with you, he takes you home to remind you of something.
a/n — currently working on some requests so heres whatever this is. please request more!!!
do not copy or post my work anywhere else.
“no, yeah, like i actually did so fucking bad. i got an 84 and almost cried,” your friend, daniel, said dramatically as he spoke to you over the loud music of the party. he shook his head at the thought. “god, i hate that old-ass teacher. he can suck my fucking dick.”
you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him and giggle before taking another sip of your drink. “dude, what are you talking about? that’s not even bad. it’s still a B and i doubt it even dropped your grade.”
unfortunately for you, you could feel rafe’s glare boring into your side as you talked. he was extremely annoyed. he was left wondering what was so insanely interesting that you and this random guy have been talking for 15 minutes already. you looked too engaged in the conversation and you laughed a little too much at what he was saying.
“yo, you good?” topper asked when he noticed his best friend gripping his bottle of beer until his knuckles turned white and his jaw clenched almost painfully hard.
rafe didn’t even spare a glance to him, just continued staring at you. “yeah man, ‘m fine,” he said uninterestedly.
he followed his gaze to where he was looking at you just as you laughed with the boy before chuckling and patting his back. “he’s just some fuckin’ pogue, man. no need to worry ‘bout him.”
“fuck off, top,” he mumbled in annoyance. he never wanted to be interacted with when he was pissed off and this was definitely no exception. unless it was you of course.
while daniel spoke, you finally averted your gaze over to your boyfriend who was still leaned up against the wall like he was when you’d left to get more drinks before being stopped by your classmate. you mentally cursed at yourself. he looked pissed. he nodded over the front door, eyes never leaving yours as he waited for you to follow the silent command.
that was the last thing you could remember from that stupid party. no matter how many times you’d tried to tell your boyfriend that nothing happened, that you were just talking about your grades, he didn’t care or believe that. he knows what he saw and he saw the boy flirting with you.
and that lead you here, face buried into his pillows and your ass up with rafe bullying his cock into your hole with rough hands gripping your hips tight and uncontrollable moans leaving your lips. your nails dug into his bed sheets as you felt the slide of tears run down your cheeks at the overwhelming feeling of his thrusts.
“such a dumb baby,” he mumbled, freezing deep inside you to make you squeal and squirm. “always gettin’ so fucked up ‘nd letting random guys flirt with you huh? can’t even handle your fuckin’ alcohol.”
you cried harder into the sheets as frustration built up inside you from both the situation and the pain of him bottomed out. “di—didn’t have anyone flirting with me, rafe,” you snapped back as sassily as you could manage.
“what was that baby? couldn’t hear you,” he teased in that rude, mocking voice you hated. he pushed his hips further into you, pushing your body to lean forward more and allowing him to press into you at a different angle.
you whimpered and leaned up on your forearms with the last bit of strength you had to look over your shoulder at him. “you’re bein’ mean.”
he jutted his lower lip out and fake pouted. “aw, i’m bein’ mean? so sorry, sweet girl,” he muttered before grabbing your hips and pulling them back to their normal position. he slowly pulled back then pushed forward harshly, making you yelp and jolt forward. he repeated the action multiple times. “maybe this’ll teach you a lesson not to fuck around with other dudes.”
you balled up the sheets and buried your face in them when he began snapping into you quickly. your legs began shaking and threatening to give out under the pressure and rough force of his thrusts. “can you be a good girl and keep yourself up for me, baby?”
after another particularly hard thrust, your body finally collapsed and your cried out when he quickly slipped out of you. you could hear him sigh from behind you. “jesus. went all fuckin’ dumb in me and now i gotta do all the work, right?” he mocked before pressing your legs together and straddling them to then slide back into you.
you squeezed your eyes shut and whimpered at the new sensitivity the angle brought. he leaned forward once he was fully sheathed inside you to grab a pillow and wrap one arm under your hips to lift them up enough to slid it under and ease the pain of your back and hips. the small act of care and kindness made you smile against the mattress.
he began to pound into your used hole from behind just enough to make you scream but not hurt you. “feels good, rafe. ‘s so fuckin’ good,” you babbled mindlessly to let him know you were still here and okay. “so—so deep.”
“yeah? can feel you squeezing around me,” he replied, continuing his punishing pace. “shoulda recorded this shit to show everyone how much of a fuckin’ slut you are once you get my dick inside you. maybe then everyone would stay the fuck away from my girl. maybe i should jus’ knock you up, cum inside this little cunt and have you all swollen with my kid so everyone sees you’re mine.”
you felt yourself involuntarily clench at the words before your legs began to spasm again. “oh! ‘m gonna come, rafe. please, please, please,” you begged for sweet release and he fucked you quicker until he felt you cream around him.
he chuckled and leaned down to kiss between your shoulder blades as you continued to ride through it. “that’s it. feels like fuckin’ heaven around me. best pussy i’ll ever have,” he mumbled against your skin. “i’ve got you, baby. ‘m right here.”
his hands gently kneaded the fat of your ass as you finally came down before swiping the pillow out from under you and pulling out. he rolled you onto your back and took in the sight of your disheveled state. your hair was messy and sticking to your face and up in the air, your cheeks were blushed from the intensity of your orgasm, and your tits were sitting so prettily right in front of him. “so fuckin’ gorgeous, angel. what’d i do to deserve you?”
in contrast to just moments ago, he softly pushed the hair off your face and smoothed it down. he leaned forward to gently suck on your left breast and leave deep colored hickeys along your skin for him to look back at later. while one hand toyed with your other breast, the other lined himself back up with you then pushed himself inside.
you bit your lip and whimpered at the stretch of him. “oh fuck,” you heard him moan against your breast before switching and sucking your other nipple into his mouth. he slowly rocked into you at a much more loving and delicate pace. it wasn’t about punishing you anymore, he just wanted to feel you and be close to you.
you sighed in relief when be began hitting that certain spot inside of you a much more tolerable pace and his pelvis gently rubbed against your clit. it felt like you were starting to see stars with how he’d press against it for prolonged moments. he left wet kisses up your neck and to your jaw then finally your lips. he was leaned up on his forearms at either side of your head while he kissed you softly with that same passionate love he always showed you.
your hands reached up onto his head, searching for something to grab onto only then remembering the buzzcut he now has. you moaned into his mouth when you felt him speed up just slightly while your hands continued to roam for something to hold from the overwhelming pleasure you could feel building up again.
he took hold your hand and intertwined your fingers at the side of your head, letting you squeeze him as tight as you needed as your moans began to pick up and so did his soft pants of breath. “fuck, angel. pussy feels so good,” he whispered breathlessly. “‘m gonna come.”
you hummed in agreement and clenched around him, making him groan and gently suck on the sensitive skin of your neck. “inside, rafe. p—please come inside me,” you moaned, desperate to feel him fill you up.
he mumbled a string a curses before spilling inside you and triggering your own orgasm. he continued softly kissing at your skin and allowing you to squeeze his hand through the pleasure until he finally rode it out for the both of you. “you okay, baby?” he mumbled slightly out of breath.
you nodded and huffed out slow breaths. “mhm, ‘m good,” you replied, still in euphoric bliss.
he slowly laid on top of you as to not crush you with his weight before burying his face in your neck, still inside you. “don’t ever let me catch another dude flirting with you again,” he said against your skin.
you rolled your eyes. “oh fuck off,” you said jokingly while pushing him off of you and out of you then rolling onto your side away from him.
he laughed softly and quickly followed, grabbing your waist to pull you back into his chest to smother your shoulder and neck with wet kisses.
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underscorezoo · 1 month ago
Text
“Easy,” I murmur, “easy.” I show her what a deep breath looks like, trying to steady her growing panic. Her body shakes, her blue eyes wide, sweat glistens across her forehead. I rub my thumb against her knuckles, her hand gripping mine like life depends on it.
“It hurts,” she whimpers, eyes closing with a hard wince. My other hand closes around her jaw and I softly blow hair into her face to cool her down.
“I've got you, darling.”
She shakes her head in refusal, a cry bubbling up her throat, “oh. Oh.”
“Tension isn't helping our baby, please relax.” She gives me a look that makes me want to bury myself alive to recover from it. A hopeless scared gaze that makes me want to claw out my eyes on top of being five feet underground.
“Help me,” she whines, “get him out of me.”
I flash a look at the royal healers around me, their eyes mildly impatient. I give them a cold stern look that has them shifting into action to avoid my ire.
“I'm still convinced it's a little girl,” I smile, brushing her hair that's matted onto her forehead.
“There's nothing little about her then,” she groans and shifts away from me, her body locking up, “no, not again,” she cries and her fingernails dig into me. I have several of these wounds now but I can't even register it with the way I've been watching her so intently.
“Breathe,” I remind her quickly, “breath in and out. Relax your jaw.”
Her teeth are bared to the world, the entirety of her rigid, airless.
“Breathe,” I bark, my worry crawling up my mouth.
She does but the sound that leaves with it is enough to drive me over an edge. My hand leaves her face and falls onto the swell of her stomach, bare to the room, our child begging to escape it. A blanket covers her lower half and I'm tempted to tear it away to see if there is progress. A healer beats me to it, bending my wife’s knee up and opening her legs like a butterfly, blanket falling away.
“That's the sound we were waiting for, your majesty,” the midwife coos gently. “You’re ready to start pushing. It’ll all be over soon.”
Terror strikes me like a hard fist to the jaw and I sit there in stunned silence. My wife on the other hand starts a tantrum, limps a chaos as she tries to leave the bed. None of us expect this but with her so bloated, she barely makes it before I'm holding her still, pinning to the mattress. Her eyes are crazed and dazed with pain and anger.
“I am not pushing,” she hisses at me as if I was the one who suggested it.
“Are you saying that because you're afraid of the pain or because you don't think you can do it?” I challenge, raising an eyebrow. I dare to let my hand travel down between her legs, my fingers breaching the now expanded opening. I almost groan, “darling,” my head slumps towards her with near relief, “you are so close.” I feel the spot of thin hair, the curvature of a baby’s head. Our child.
“Get your fingers out of me,” she groans, whimpering.
“First I've heard that one,” I smirk. She flashes me a warning look that I eat up.
She again seems to be primed with a retort when both hands furiously find the bottom sheet. Giving my hand, wrist, and arm a break from her piercing touch. A terrified little yelp breaks from her mouth and one leg loses grip on the bedding and kicks out.
“Oh please,” she heartbreakingly pleads. So unlike my vicious wife. “Make it stop.”
I instinctively brush my knuckles to her cheek, my other hand resting low on her stomach. “You need to push, darling,” I press on her skin, “and hard. You're going to be just fine if you do that.”
She says something incoherent, a blubbering mess of raw emotion, exhaustion, and pain. Still she does what we all hoped, pushed. Her face tight with determination, chin to her chest, the sound of an animal in full heat coming out of her. She's never looked so beautiful.
“That's it,” I encourage softly and twist, getting a cold cloth for her forehead and neck. She relaxes instantly, tears streaming down her face.
“I can't do this,” she says, voice breaking.
“Of course you can,” I say softly.
She shakes her head in defiance of my words. Head tipping back against the pile of pillows behind her. My wife shrieks, her body shaking violently. “No, please, no,” she begs.
“It comes, your majesty, push,” the healer beckons.
My focus waivers between how vulnerable and how strong my wife is in this moment that I too am breathless for a spell before I am smiling, staring down at the peek of dark hair.
“I see her, darling, push oh please push.” Our ‘please’ is so contrasting that I laugh. She follows my suggestion and cries out again, this time her hand finding my forearm and holding tight. She looks at me, a face full of unabashed fear and loathing, “you did this to me.”
I still can't wipe the joy from my face so my, “I know,” comes out manic.
She whimpers, tears cascading down her face and mingling with sweat. She swears colorfully. That head of dark hair moves forward and now holds her folds open and taut. She's screaming loud enough to break the windows and I'm there, holding her head against mine, getting closer and closer. “Shh, it's almost over, you're doing so well.”
“Small pushes now, blow out, stretch wide,” the healer mimics the breathing she wants to achieve but my wife just lets out the most pathetic of whimpers.
“Hurts,” she mumbles.
“You're amazing. I'm so impressed,” my lips brush into her sweaty hair.
“Don't say that like you're surprised,” she huffs at me.
I chuckle, leaning back to take in her burning blue eyes. “I'm not surprised.”
“Just a few more pushes,” the healer coaxs.
I watch the head pop out with a bit of liquid and a shrill cry from my partner, who now pants wildly, eyes lidded with weariness. “Pull it out,” she demands, narrowing her gaze to menacing.
“You'll push in a minute here,” the healer amends for her.
“Just take it out,” she begs and then groans deeply, eyes closing quickly, “ohhh nooo” I watch in fascination as the baby starts to rotate slowly.
“Hold on, dearie,” the healer tugs the cord up and over our child’s head eliminating a threat against its life already. “Open these legs wider for me, there you go. Push, push, push.”
Thankfully my wife follows her orders. Her face bright red, and voice raising as more and more of the child emerges. Unceremoniously the screaming is replaced by the baby who now flails around in her mother's arms. Her. Our daughter. My wife and I lock eyes, her face split with adorable shock as if she hadn't just gone through all the work to make this happen. I slump towards them both, my adrenaline wearing off and I'm realizing my own hand has left crescent moons into my flesh from concern. I relax my body and take a deep breath.
“Thank gods,” I murmured to no one in particular. I look up timidly to my wife who wipes our baby with a towel and scrunches her entire chin towards her neck to get a better look at the purple screeching face. Our daughter finally has a lapse in annoyance and her eyes open, stormy gray eyes forming a perfect mirror to gaze into. My wife drops back, a lifeless laugh forcing out of her, “all that only for her to look like you.” She sounds both bitter and proud.
I grin, “she will no doubt be a stunner like me then.”
She huffs loudly but matches my smile, content with such a notion.
“The next one will look like you.”
Her jaw drops open. “The next one?!”
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chocopudim · 1 month ago
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can touch you?
mr. crawling x fem ! reader, she / her pronouns, blissful love life ending, smut (masturbation, fingering, cunnilingus)
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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Lately, the monster had been found constantly getting absorbed by the TV, so the human decided to spend some alone time distressing herself. She closed the bedroom door quietly, making sure Mr. Crawling wasn't nearby. Then, walked to their bed, taking small steps not to indicate where she could be.
However, the wooden floor was somewhat old, the bed was a little rusty, and Mr. Crawling seemed to have a sixth sense, telling him about all her possible locations.
She removed her clothes and carefully laid down on their bed, closing her eyes as she took a few deep breaths, trying to focus and not think too much about the possibility of Mr. Crawling suddenly walking in. She had closed the door already, there was no way the monster would appear by her side, right?
The human relaxed her body and moved her hand to her chest, circling her skin with one of her fingertips. Her heart was beating fast, still afraid of getting caught by her ghostly roommate.
She moved the other hand between her thighs, gently massaging the area. A small moan escaped her lips. She didn't care though, surely that wouldn't be enough for Mr. Crawling to hear-
_ You hurt? You pain?
She quickly stopped whatever she was doing and directed her sight to the tall man sitting next to her, worry in his voice. The woman loved him dearly but hated how silent and willing he was to follow her everywhere, even when it wasn't needed.
_ M-Me... Huh... - The blood quickly ran to her cheeks as she searched for ways to explain herself. How could one even start to do that while looking at him? Wait, why was he even here and how much did he see?! Didn't she close the door?
_ You okay?
_ Me o-okay...
_ You need help?
_ H-Help?! - The human gasped, shocked.
_ Help. Me want help. - From Mr. Crawling's perspective, the human had probably injured herself while he wasn't looking and she was now moaning in agony. He also thought she looked somewhat cute while lying down like that, but he couldn't exactly understand why.
_ Oh! - She gasped again, finally realizing the monster thought she was hurt and wanted to help with that instead, - Me not need help. Me fine.
_ You fine? Why touch body?
Damn, Mr. Crawling wasn't subtle at all, was he? He must have felt she was trying to hide something. Now, how does one explain what they were doing to him, a monster that doesn't ever need to think about pleasuring himself?
_ T-Touch body make me... V-Very happy.
Happy? Was 'happy' really the right word for that?
_ Touch body make you very happy?
_ Y-Yes... - Deep down, she was praying Mr. Crawling would get the memo and walk away. That interaction couldn't get any more awkward.
_ Why? - Mr. Crawling asked curiously. He was trying to understand his human better and didn't notice how evasive his questions were coming across or how intimate that situation was.
_ Touch... Good. - She tried explaining in the best way she could, but it was hard since their vocabulary seemed to be so limited. The embarrassment also didn't help much. All she wanted to do was to disappear at that exact moment.
_ You like touch body?
_ M-Maybe...
_ You want me touch body?
_ W-What?! - The human exclaimed under her breath.
_ Me want make you very happy. Me want help. Me can touch you?
Was that really happening?
_ T-Touch me? You want touch me?
_ Yes. Can touch you?
Her heartbeats increased and she grew even more flustered. She could feel her heart echoing inside her head as the adrenaline rushed in. And so did Mr. Crawling.
The monster quietly stared at her, patiently waiting for an answer. He was used to touching his human, but not like that... The idea of it was quite alluring to him and he was tempted to explore those new emotions a little bit more.
_ Y-Yes. - The woman panicked after realizing her words. Did she really agree with that? It's not like she didn't want to. But just because they could, should they?
Mr. Crawling smiled, excited to make his human happy. Gently, he grasped one of her breasts, giving it a soft squeeze. His icy cold hands made the human shiver, but it was nice feeling it against her burning body.
_ Cute. - He said, seeming to enjoy how her chest felt, - You like my touch?
_ Y-Y-Yes!
_ Can teach me?
Perhaps, Mr. Crawling wanted to be guided...?
_ You play... - The woman said still feeling awkward about it, but not against it. She placed her hand on top of his and slowly guided him, showing him how to squeeze, pinch, tease... - W-Want consume?
_ Consume?
_ N-Not consume... Use mouth.
For a moment, Mr. Crawling stopped touching her and just analyzed her body language, trying to understand what his human could be trying to say. Then, he smiled as if he had finally figured it out. He placed his mouth, carefully on top of her chest. Then, he opened it, biting the flesh ever so softly. The human moaned again, feeling his tongue play with her nipple.
While Mr. Crawling was busy "consuming", she moved one of her hands between her tights for the second time, slowly massaging it. Mr. Crawling noticed her legs were moving a little bit more than before and looked down, removing his mouth from her chest.
_ Me consume legs?
_ Huh? - Before she could form a proper sentence, Mr. Crawling placed himself between her legs, fascinated by how interesting the human body could be. There were so many things he didn't know about... He touched her pussy with one of his fingers, making the woman shiver again due to how sudden it was.
_ Me touch? Me consume?
_ Y-You want touch? Want c-c-consume?
_ Yes. - He smiled, the same way he usually did, before inserting one of his long fingers inside of it. The woman gasped, biting her bottom lip to not moan too loudly, - You like touch? - He asked, slowly moving his finger in and out. He didn't know what he was doing but enjoyed observing her reactions. The monster just wanted to play with her and would continue entertaining her as long as she enjoyed it.
He liked how her face moved with every touch, the small sounds she made, the way her chest bounced, how soft and warm her skin was, the way her back slightly arched, and how she would move her hips... Mr. Crawling couldn't explain why, but he was fascinated by all of it.
_ Why wet? - Mr. Crawling asked again, circling her labia with his fingertips.
_ T-Touch good...
Then, a sudden question popped up in his head. What did his human taste like? Mr. Crawling asked himself as he removed his hand from her.
He planned to use his mouth from now on.
Noticing what he was about to do, she held his silk-black hair in her hands, slightly pulling it. Wanting to return the touch, Mr. Crawling squeezed her breast between his fingers.
The human felt a slight sense of anxiety while feeling his hot breath against her skin. Then, his mouth evolved it. The human shivered at how cold his lips felt in comparison to his tongue.
The monster slowly circled his tongue around her labia, before starting to move it up and down, enjoying how her back would arche differently.
It took him a few minutes, but he eventually found the clitoris. Realizing how much more sensitive she would get every time he touched that area, he started teasing it, licking it slowly at first.
The woman's hips eventually started moving faster and faster, and Mr. Crawling tried keeping up with her. The more she moaned, the deeper Mr. Crawling tried to go.
As her legs started shaking, she instinctively pulled his face against her pussy, letting out a loud moan. Mr. Crawling held her tights, squeezing them against his face. How could someone feel so warm and soft? He also really enjoyed the taste.
Mr. Crawling pulled away from her after noticing her lack of movement. Watching the way her body slowly grew relaxed as something else grew on him...
_ Me make you happy?
_ You make me happy... Me thankful. - She replied with a small smile plastered on her face, trying to catch her breath.
_ You like me touch body? Me good?
_ Yes. - The woman laughed lightly at his silly questions. - You good. You very good. Me like you. A lot.
_ Me glad. - Mr. Crawling smiled widely. One could tell he was feeling pretty happy and even proud about it, - You good. Me like you.
_ You fine...? - She asked slightly worried, wanting to make sure Mr. Crawling was okay with what had just happened between them, - You like touch body?
_ Yes. Me like body. You cute. - The monster answered sweetly, jumping on top of her for a hug, - You fine?
_ Me fine.
The two of them closed their eyes as they hugged, simply enjoying that small intimate moment... But suddenly, Mr. Crawling broke the silence, looking completely serious.
_ Not let others touch you. Me can touch you.
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