#she would make him cry and then call him a good boy

[stealvrth]

𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ; lifeguard!j. jungkook x bimbo!fem!reader

summary : jungkook loves calling you his dumb lil baby, always so pretty and perfect for him. he loves how you willingly let him take you anywhere, anytime. but he especially loves when you go dumb on his dick.

warnings : nsfw, mean dom!jk, edging, overstim, thigh riding, p in v, unprotected sex, semi – public sex, degradation, dacryphilia.

wc : 1.1k

days like today were jungkook's favourite. days when you'd come and visit him at work in those cute little swimsuits, and bat your lashes innocently at him and ask "how's work koo? wanted to come 'nd visit you."

when the two of you would sit by the pool and talk about your day — you absolutely refusing to swim, since it would ruin your mascara, and you came to see him anyway.

other girls would give you looks, dirty looks, but they'd fly over your head and you'd simply smile and wave at them. he loved hearing you talk, eyes focused on your glossy lips.

you'd happily talk about anything and everything, and jungkook would happily listen. sometimes he'd try and coax you into the pool, but you'd adamantly decline.

"don't wanna swim," you'd whine, resting your head on his shoulder. "just wanna spend time with my boyfriend 'nd talk while sitting on the side of pool."

as you were now, looking at him with your doe eyes. "my makeup took to long, koo. i don't wanna ruin it after tryna look good for you. then it'd be a waste of time."

he smiles, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss and messing up the gloss you'd applied so carefully to your lips. "i think you look gorgeous with ruined make up, baby." he leans in, kissing up against the shell of your ear and nipping gently at the skin. "i can even ruin it for you, if you like."

you pout, or try to, trying to push him off you. "but kooki~!" you whine, gasping quietly when he begins to suck at your neck. "you always do this.. at some point you need to start fixing it for me. not everyone is gonna think i look pretty with ruined make up."

"who gives a shit about what people think," he'd groan into your nape, biting harshly and marking you up.

and you know as well as he does that you can't say no to him. so you let him drag you to the bathrooms and pull you into an empty stall, mouths pressing together feverishly as his hands sink down to your tits.

his tits.

in a flash your bikini top — that honestly was so skimpy it wasn't there to begin with — is tossed away somewhere, and his hands are kneading your breasts, nipples between his fingers. you moan into his mouth, grinding your hot sex onto his thigh.

"so needy, thought you didn't want this," he murmurs, but he doesn't stop you from grinding. instead he smirks, quickly sitting himself on the toilet seat and positioning you on his thigh. "get yourself off, baby. wanna see how needy you are."

your hips move on their own, grinding your clothed clothed heat against his bare thigh, shorts pulled up just enough for you to rut against the exposed skin. your eyes shut in pleasure and you moan quietly, gradually humping this thigh.

jungkook huffs, hands on your waist as he forces you to quicken your pace. you cry out at the sudden surge of friction, but the boy only scoffs in response.

"how's my dumb lil bitch supposed to feel good of she's moving her hips so slow, huh?" you simply moan in response, and jungkook slips in a finger between your folds. "you're so fucking wet. thought my pretty baby didn't want this? does my lil whore want to stop?"

you sob loudly, shaking your head as you grind against his fingers and his thigh. it's all too much, but you don't want to stop. jungkook just chuckles. "words, baby. or my dumb bitch feeling to good, huh? haven't even done anything and you're all fucked out."

you whine, nodding as you call out his name. his fingers retreat, instead finding place in your mouth. "since you aren't using that mouth, let's put it good use." you suck intently, jungkook's free hand kneading your ass.

you don't know how long you've been grinding onto him for, but eventually enough is enough and you can feel your orgasm on the horizon. it's so close, and you babble as such, repeatedly moaning around jungkook's fingers.

and just as you feel it coming, it's ripped away when jungkook's grip on your waist tightens, other hand flying down as well, preventing you from moving your hips any more. fat tears roll down your face as you whine into his neck, desperately bucking your hips to try and get some friction. "k-koo, please..mwanna cum, was so close!"

he hums, thinking it over for a moment, before he's forcing your hips to start moving again. it feels as though everything's on fire, heat surging through your body as your cunt messily drools all over jungkook's bare thigh.

your face is wet with tears as you feel your high approach for a second time, moans coming out high pitched and broken. jungkook loves you like this, lips capturing yours in a sloppy kiss.

you're close once more, whining into his mouth as you feverishly buck your hips. it's coming, coming, and then..

it's gone again.

you're choking and hiccuping, jungkook pressing his lips to your tear stained cheeks. "poor dumb baby," he coos. "wanna cum? you'll only cum if it's in my cock, babe, so you better beg for me to fuck you."

you don't say anything for a moment, before your broken, whiny voice reaches jungkook's ears. "please? i wanna— i need to cum! wanna g–go all dumb on your— on your cock! please~!"

if you were paying attention, and your eyes weren't so blurred with tears, you'd have noticed jungkook pulling at his shorts just enough to free his aching cock. catching the skin of your neck between his teeth, he pushes your bikini bottoms to the side and slams himself into you.

he's sure everyone in seoul heard you scream his name when he did.

he's pumping steadily in and out of you, kissing away your tears as you cry on top of him, moaning his name over and over like a broken record.

you cum way before he does, a string of curses leaving your mouth as you did so. but jungkook doesn't stop, relishing in your slurred begs for him to "stop. s'too much! can't do it!"

he doesn't listen, thrusting fluidly into your fluttering hole, groaning loudly into your neck as his cock begins to twitch inside you. "gonna cum sweetheart. wanna cum inside my dumb baby's lil cunt. can i cum in you, baby?"

you nod limply, sobbing into his neck as he lets himself go inside of you, warm spurts of cum filling you up. only then, when he's fully released his load, does jungkook finally let you rest.

you're still slurring and babbling, jungkook kissing your forehead and trying to calm you down, cooing softly. "you're alright baby, you're alright. so pretty when you cry, but it's done now, okay?"

he loved making you his dumb little baby, but he'd always take care of you after as you whimpered into his chest.

[bartywinter]

paper · @black-brothers-microfic · bartylus · word count: 672 · tw: mcd

“Your classmates are not your friends, they are your opponents. You must be the greatest,” Mother told him as she straightened his white linen shirt, which had become wrinkled on the way to school. “Always remember you belong to the Noble House of Black.”

Regulus had initially been thrilled to have the opportunity to make friends. He had imagined himself sharing his hobbies with boys his own age, laughing together in the dining hall and playing football on the fresh school lawn. He had dreamed of having a friendship like Sirius and James had, of being so close with someone that no words were needed to understand each other.

Nevertheless, Regulus pushed past his own desires and burned his mother's words into his head. Satisfying his parents was more important than making friends —or should he say 'convenient'? After all, he was terrified of getting the same punishments Sirius received for his rebelliousness.

Consequently, Regulus sat alone in class and ate by himself at mealtimes and watched his classmates in sorrow from across the dining table. During recess, he would hide in the library and sometimes in the bathroom, where he would cry silently for his longing to be with the other kids. He had always looked forward to Hogwarts, but now he just wanted to leave and never come back.

What's more, there was one boy in his class who made him uncomfortable. Regulus had caught him staring at him on several occasions, and the odd thing was the boy didn't even avert his gaze, but either stuck out his tongue or smirked at him. Luckily, the boy hadn't tried to talk to him. He wouldn't have known what to say. He wasn't allowed to socialise.

Regulus unconsciously began to watch him secretly as well. He learned that the boy's name was Barty and his father worked at the Ministry of Magic. He also soon noticed he was always accompanied by another boy in their class called Evan. Both were frequently in detention for pulling pranks on other houses' students. They were the kind of company his parents probably detested. He had to focus on his studies and not on silly pranks.

“It must be done in pairs.” Groans and shouts of delight were heard in equal measure as the History of Magic teacher explained the procedure for the upcoming assignment. “You must hand it in by next Friday. I will not accept any paper after the deadline.”

Regulus glared at his classmates as they paired off. He couldn't ignore the knot that had formed in his stomach. Maybe he could do the task individually, he could go to the professor's office and explain to him he didn't have a partner–.

“You have a partner?”

Regulus looked at whoever had addressed him and immediately became uneasy. It was Barty.

“No,” he said flatly and looked away, embarrassed he had been obliged to give such a ridiculously predictable answer.

“Well, now you've got one.”

Regulus dared to meet his eyes again, which were sparkling with excitement. His lips had curved into a wide grin too.

“Do you want to be my partner?” He shyly clutched the book he held in his hands.

Barty shrugged his shoulders.

“You don't want to?”

Your classmates are not your friends.

I'm sorry, Mother.

“Yes, I do.” He smiled for the first time in two weeks.

“Good!” Barty exclaimed and held out a hand as he smiled warmly at him, showing his sharp teeth. “My name is Barty.”

I already know your name, you idiot.

He squeezed Barty's hand softly.

“Regulus.”

It is said that you are shown an overview of your life seconds before you die, and Regulus proved that to be a lie when he recalled his first conversation with Barty prior to drowning in the deep waters of the lake. Although, it somehow made sense —he hadn't been shown his entire life, but the beginning of it. His life began the moment he met Barty, and how happy he was to die that way too.

[graciegoeskrazy]

and i say do u wanna dance?

(Matty Healy x Daughter!r)

warnings: matty messes up (ugh), queen gab, crying, ballet, some nutcracker references but dw if u know nothing about it it’s fine, bit shorter than I wanted but not short tho (???)

a/n: HEY. WHADUP. IM ALIVE. I think I hate this. Like I could’ve made it better but I also don’t think I could’ve made it better. thank twin for requesting 🫂💌

You never thought you’d be in this big of a production of the Nutcracker, let alone playing Clara. You Dad swears he’s never seen you smile as wide as you did when you found out you got the part. The last nearly 5 months were filled with rehearsals almost every night, preparing for the Nutcracker. School would end and you would rush home, quickly doing your homework before having to get dressed and out the door for rehearsal. Gabi, loved getting you ready. She always joked it’s like she has a little doll to play dress up with now, and she always did your ballet buns better than your dad ever did. Although, he did try his best everytime.

It was all kind of chaotic, and sometimes stressful, but there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

Dance had been your life, and the studio had been your second home. You loved your dance friends so much, and landing the Clara role was proof that your teachers saw progress and potential in you. Everything was going great, and everything you had been working towards was about to be put on display.

You didn’t have nerves, it was all just adrenaline. You remembered the seat numbers Gabi had told you they’d be in - Her, Charli, your Grandmother, and your Father. He kissed you goodbye that very morning, pressing a kiss to your cheek, telling you how excited he was for tonight. Letting you know he would probably have tears in his eyes the second he saw you on stage.

You tried your best to find them in the crowd from the very beginning, but you failed, too worried about keeping your spacing during the opening party scene.

It wasn’t until your solo when you could finally make your way to downstage center and take a good look into their section.

Gabi was there, smiling as wide as possible. Charli and your Grandmother right next to her with proud looks on their faces. But, it was just the three of them.

No Matty. No Dad. No tears. Just an empty seat.

It took everything in you to keep dancing - not to cry and run off stage. He wasn't there, and he said he would. No - he promised.

You took your final bow in line with Marzipan and the Sugar Plum Fairy right on either side of you. It was a weird feeling, all these fantastic, professional dancers, and then there’s little you. It was a moment you should’ve been proud of, but all you could think about was your father, and what his excuse would be this time.

You opened the stage door and were immediately met with your ‘adoring fans’ as Charli put it. You ran to Gabi first thing and she scooped you up into a tight hug.  “You were fantastic, y/n! So beautiful!”

You giggled as you hugged her and talked with Charli and Denise, briefly forgetting about your fleeting thought and what was to come.

You said goodbye to your grandmother and aunt and walked back to the car hand in hand with your stepmother.

After a moment, you spoke.

“Do you know where he is?”

She gave you a weak smile, “I called him before the show when he hadn’t gotten here yet. No answer.”

You hummed and she continued. “I called him during intermission too. He said he got caught up in the studio with the boys and completely forgot.”

Her heart broke when she saw your face shift. It wasn’t anger or madness, it was just hurt.

“I told him to not bother anymore.”

You just nodded.

She opened the car door for you and gave you a hand to crawl in the backseat of the car. As soon as she turned the car on her phone started ringing. You could see your dad’s name show up on the car screen. She picked up her phone and answered, “Hello?” She let out a long sigh as she pulled out of the parking lot. “Hi.” You heard low mumbling on the other line, but couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. After a moment, she turned and handed you the phone. “It’s your father, he wants to talk to you.”

You hesitantly took the phone, taking a deep breath before answering. “Hello?” You said, voice even.

“Y/n! Oh my God- Hi, sweet girl. How are you?” He spoke rushed, panicked even.

“I’m fine.” You said, no meaning behind it.

“Yeah? Good, good. Listen to me…I am so sorry baby-”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now-”

He didn’t listen, just kept talking. “I’m on my way home right now. I’ll be there before you know it.”

“I don’t want you home. I don’t want to see you.” You said, eyes starting to fill with tears. “I told you to be here.”

He sighed, “I know sweet girl-”

“Then why weren’t you here?” You asked, lips wobbling and tears, quickly nearing a ten.

“I just caught up with work things, baby. I’m so sorry-”

“It’s always work. It’s always some lazy excuse that’s apparently more important than me.”

He sighed, “Stop it, y/n. You know that’s not true.” He said, voice firm but still gentle.

“It is true. It’s always true. I’m always the last thing you worry about.”

“That’s ridiculous, Y/n.”

“It’s how I feel.” He was silent after that. You scoffed after a moment, “Here’s Mom, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Baby, wait-”

You handed the phone back to Gabi before he could get another word out.

…

You woke the next morning with a headache and a lingering feeling in your chest. All you can remember was crying into Gabi as she put you to bed. She quickly changed you into one of your favorite matching pj sets and grabbed a makeup wipe, trying to get all of your stage makeup off to make sure you didn’t sleep in any. You wrapped your arms around her, burrowing your head into her chest as you cried. She held you like that for a while, even after you fell asleep. Even after she heard the front door open and shut, signalling that Matty had finally gotten home.

When you pried your eyes open you were met with gold rays streaming in from the window. You stayed staring outside for a moment. Thinking. This wasn’t the first time your dad had done something like this, and it made your heart hurt knowing that it probably wouldn't be the last.

He loved you. You knew that. But some days it was hard to remember it.

You heard a knock at your door.

“Hey.” Gabi said, quietly, peeking her head through the door.

You flipped over in bed to face the door, lifting your arm and hand toward her, something you did frequently to signal her over to sit next to you.

She smiles as she walks over. You moved over a little to make more room and she laid down, letting you snuggle into her.

“Daddy’s awake. You wanna go see him?”

You quickly shook your head. “No,” you said.

“He wants to come see your second show tonight-”

“I don’t want him there.” You mumbled into her.

She sighed as she moved her fingers delicately through your hair. “He wants to see you perform, you know? He wants to see all your hard work pay off.”

“He didn’t want to last night?”

Gabi hates situations like these - being caught in the middle. She could never stay mad at Matty, although he made it pretty hard to keep that up after last night. She never wanted to make it seem like she was picking sides whenever something like this happened, even though nine times out of ten she would’ve picked yours.

“I know you’re mad at him, and you have every right to be. He messed up an awful lot yesterday. But, he loves you more than anything. More than he loves me.”

“That’s not true.”

She laughed, “Wanna bet?” Your face twisted in confusion. She settled deeper under the sheets. “When your Daddy and I first started dating, all those years ago, we knew we were in love and knew it was getting pretty serious.” You both adjusted yourselves, now lying on your sides to look at each other. “We had a conversation, the first of many. Will we get married? Have kids? Be an actual couple? All that stuff. But at the end of it, he looked at me seriously, and you want to know what he told me?”

You thought for a moment, but you were already too involved with the story. “What?” You said.

Gabi smiled, “He said, ‘I love you, and I want to love you for the rest of my life, but you have to understand that nothing will compare to the love I have for that little girl.”

She smiled, continuing to run her hands through your hair. You sat for a beat, thinking. You looked up at her wide-eyed, “He really said that?”

She nodded, “Cross my heart…”

You hummed, lying down on your back again, Gabi copying you.

“I know you didn’t ask for it, but everything he does, now and forever, it’s all been for you, Y/n.” She wiped a tear off your face you hadn’t realized had fallen. “He really does love you more than anything in this world, and he’ll probably keep beating himself up until you forgive him.”

You curled into her again, “I’m still mad.”

“Oh, I know. And you have every right to be. Hell, I would be too. You don’t have to forgive him right away, just know that he wants to be with you, and will be there whenever you need it, alright?”

You nodded.

…

The morning light filtered through the kitchen window as you stepped inside, Gabi leading the way. Matty was already there, slouched at the table with a half-empty cup of coffee in front of him. His curls were messy, his eyes tired, but they softened when he saw you.  

“Hi, baby. Good morning,” he said, voice warm despite the weight behind it.  

“Good morning,” you replied, moving to sit at the counter.  

Gabi was already at the stove, glancing back at you. “You want your usual, Y/n?”

“Yes, please.”

“Alright, I’m on it.” She gave you a small smile before turning back to the pan.  

Matty leaned forward, watching you. “How’d you sleep?”

You shrugged, pushing your sleeves up. “Fine.”

“Yeah? Not too bad?” he pressed gently.  

“Mhm.”  

He nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek. There was a pause - one where you didn’t look at him, and he didn’t look away from you. Then, he inhaled sharply.  

“Do you think I could come tonight? Go watch you dance?” 

Your hand hesitated midair, spoon hovering over your plate.  

You thought of last night. Of waiting by the backstage door, your stomach twisted into knots, scanning every unfamiliar face in the crowd, hoping one of them would be him. You thought of slipping off your ballet shoes, the ache in your toes nothing compared to the ache in your chest when you realized - he wasn’t coming.  

Before you could answer, he spoke again.  

“I know I messed up, Y/n. And messed up bad. But you have to know the last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you.”

You stared at your plate, lips pressed together. He sounded so small, like he wasn’t sure if he even deserved to ask.  

“I am so, so, so sorry, Y/n.”  

You let out a slow breath, glancing up at him. His hands were folded tightly together, his shoulders hunched like he was bracing for you to shut him out completely.  

“You can come tonight.”  

Matty’s head snapped up, eyes searching yours.  

“Yeah?”  

You nodded.  

He exhaled a laugh, almost in disbelief. “Thank you, baby.”  

And later that night, when the curtains parted and the music swelled, he sat in the audience with tears slipping down his face.  

Because he was right.  

He cried the moment he saw you on stage.

[ignoremyworld]

Somewhere between the lines

Second part to “the one who got away”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Lots of things could’ve happened today. Steve’s car could’ve broken down, a small earthquake could’ve hit, someone could’ve mugged him. But none of them, NONE of them, could’ve hit as hard as this.

“Hi Stevie” the man says, almost a whisper, a sheepish little wave thrown across the room.

Steve is stopped dead in his tracks, looking at the man he once knew and loved. The man he used to call every night to tell him about a crazy customer. Standing in front of him.

“Eddie…” he whispers, his voice barely carrying through the room.

His mind goes back to the last summer before he left. The conversation they had.

“Promise we’ll never grow apart” Eddie had said. And of course Steve promised, he’d promise anything to Eddie if it meant he would stay.

“Of course” Steve sighs, holding out his pinkie for Eddie to take. And as they link their pinkies together, Steve knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this boy.

“Been a while hasn’t it” Eddie says, walking up to Steve with a smile, arms open wide, ready to hug.

Steve steps back, small tears beginning to well in his eyes. He looks Eddie up and down, as he can’t believe he’s actually here.

“I…I need a moment” Steve says, before rushing off to the staff room.

He slams the door, the walls shaking with the loud thud that probably was heard from outside the studio. A loud sob finally escapes his throat, and big tears flow down his face.

He scrambles for his phone, desperately wiping tears from his cheeks. Pressing robins contact, he moves to the couch and places his forehead on his knees, his shoulders shaking with sadness.

Robin picks up “hey I can’t talk long I- are you crying?”

“Robbie…” Steve sobs, “it’s…it’s him…it’s Eddie”

“What? What about Eddie? Steve what’s going on?” Robin says concerned

“He *hic* he’s part of the band I’m filming. He’s the lead. Bobbie I can’t do this” Steve says between his shaky breaths

“Oh god…Steve listen to me. You can do this. You can’t let him get to you again. So sit up! Take a deep breath, blow your nose, wipe your tears, and stand tall! Don’t let that asshole let you down again. Face him and get through this shoot. Then when you come home I’ll make you dinner and we can drink together okay?” Robin states. She always knew what to say, even if it sounded mean it was all in good faith.

“…okay” steve says reluctantly. They say their goodbyes and he hangs up. Taking a few deep breaths before following her instructions. He looks at himself in the mirror hanging off the wall. Nods to his reflection and walks out the door, and to his dissatisfaction, Eddie is there.

“Let’s start. You have your props?” Steve says sternly.

“Yes but-“ Eddie starts

“Good” Steve interrupts, walking past a worried looking Eddie.

Despite his effort, Eddie can’t get Steve to talk to him about something that isn’t related to filming. So eventually, he gives up.

Everyone starts to set up, the green screen behind the band and their instruments being put together. Steve lets them play a test round to get the audio settings all in order.

The bigger man, whos name is Garrett or so they all call him, stomps on the hi-hat pedal, settles the noise, and adjusts the cymbals to his liking.

After about twenty minutes or so, they start filming. Steve, who can’t seem to take his eyes off Eddie, moves the camera as they asked him to. Up, down, side to side, round and round and all that.

They finish filming the first scene for the day, and Steve lets out a sigh of relief. But he knows he has to be right back here tomorrow to film more of the video.

“Okay that’s it, I’ll see you all tomorrow.” Steve says quickly, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. He wheels the camera back to the staff room, followed by Eddie, who is determined to have the one conversation Steve doesn’t want.

“Steve, please, talk to me” Eddie pleads softly

Steve angrily snaps around to face Eddie. “Oh you wanna talk? Okay let’s talk. Let’s talk about how you told me that we wouldn’t grow apart, let’s talk about how I had to wake up to a note from you telling me you were leaving. Let’s talk about how I sat in Robbie’s arms sobbing thinking it was MY fault you left. Let’s talk about that.” Steve shouts. Not caring if anyone else is hearing him.

Eddie sits there wide eyed, before taking a deep breath and speaking “look, I get you’re pissed at me. And rightfully so! I had no right leaving like that. And I regret the moment I stepped out that door every day. I am so unbelievably sorry Stevie”

“Don’t. Don’t call me that. You lost that privilege. We promised forever, and you broke that promise. And that hurt more than when I was being strangled by the vines” Steve whispers

Eddie looks down at his feet. “Okay Steve.” He says, pulling out a piece of paper “this is my number. Please, please text me” he says timidly and begins to walk out the door “oh and by the way… I never stopped loving you. Even after I left.” And with that, he shuts the door to the staff room.

Steve falls to the floor. Quiet sobs escaping his lips. He wants to forgive Eddie. He really does, but he’s too hurt right now.

That’s the man he loves, and has loved for years. And though he’s hurting, he won’t let him get away again.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Okay because I felt motivated here’s the second part. I might turn this into a series but I’m not sure

Once again constructive criticism and feedback is always welcome!

Love ya!

[almostthursdayy]

Do you have any facts about L in Death Day? Or maybe stuff that's backstory-related?

I just wanna know more about your interpretation of him because you never miss + I love his DD design so very much :']

got really excited about this ask and ended up making a whole family tree + collage of memories from L’s childhood. . . whoops! ( i already know tumblr gonna chew and EAT these images so click for better quality lolol )

sphiel ( + alt arts ) about family tree 🌳 below the read more!

🌳 LAWLIET FAMILY TREE

first off, everyone’s wreath is based off their ethnicity. if someone has more than one ethnicity ( literally like 75% on the diagram ) their wreath is like some kind of mutant almagamation hybrid lovechild tree of the different kinds of trees.

>> also if they are dead, so is their wreath! and they’re also desaturated / greyed out. . . if they’re dead and crying, it means they were murdered.

>> and also each limb and each little leaf bush signifies something.

>> also i made a 4 minute long tiktok video speed explaining this you can click to see here lol

i’ll go L outwards for this, i hope you enjoy!!

🍰 LOVE ‘ L ‘ LAWLIET

european ( english oak ) , japanese ( japanese cedar ), ghanian ( cocoa tree ) , thai ( golden shower tree )

KOFI, biological mother: strong connection besides death. smarts came from her, she’s an intellectual lady who everyone always told him he looked just like her when she was alive.

VINCENT, biological father: also strong connection besides death. got his conviction and radicalism from him ( also he’s completely based on canon L’s looks ). L always thought he looked more like him than his mom.

WATARI, adoptive father: very strong connection, relies on this man for literally everything. very unorthodox father-son relationship, but L would call watari his father.

M, wife: oouughhhh he’s in love with her strange ways and peculiar looks. L’s type is interesting people, unpredictable folks who can pull the rug out from under him. . . M’s just that.

NEAR, biological daughter: his little princess, isn’t she beautiful? if near has a bad day, L’s having a bad day. currently he’s having the biggest ego trip right now because near wants to be just like him. and his selfish immature side kind of loves that he created his number 1 fan.

MELLO, adoptive son: that’s his boy, his interesting little guy that he totally doesn’t study the reaction of in every interaction they have. ( frankly most interactions L has he subconsciously treats as tests on the other ) but this kid interests him, so he’s very welcome to stick around and be his son, his little prince.

ROGER, father-in-law-figure: ‘ everytime we interact, i deduce you are a little less qualified for the job watari has given you. ‘

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ watari & L’s connection line is bountiful on his side to show the benefits of he and watari’s relationship. there is a small branch at the base of the limb to resemble somebody else L had a somewhat similar relationship with once upon a time. but shes not pictured.

➡️➡️ his wreath is covered in flowers, cocoa pods, and leaves to symbolize that he should have a very long life ahead of him.

➡️➡️ the small branch shooting off L & M’s love line is to represent his effort to connect to mello.

💫 KOFI PÍÈSÍE ‘ PAPRIKA ‘ PEPRAH-LAWLIET

ghanian ( cocoa tree ) , thai ( golden shower tree )

VINCENT, husband: she loved this man to bits! oh just the absolute most! it was a storybook romance truly, too good for this earth- - no one got her quite like her do <3

L, biological son: her pretty little boy, she was gonna make sure he was safe and protected in this big scary world no matter what! couldn’t wait to see what her little smartie grew up to be.

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ no leaves and her cocoa pods are rotty because she is very very dead. . . all of her branches represent family members she had, her connection to them is severed in some form or way.

🎨 VINCENT ‘ DO ‘ LAWLIET

european ( english oak ) , japanese ( japanese cedar )

KOFI, wife: his first muse, his eternal flame, good christ he loved her to to the point of dedicating everything to her. all his paintings revolved around her in some form of way. often by including the stars she was so fond of.

L, biological son: if vincent was the moon, kofi was the sun, L was all the little tinsy stars. his one in a billion little guy. like kofi, vincent was also steadfast in L being able to protect himself from the big scary world. he was so proud of the little man he was becoming.

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ no leaves because he is very very dead. . . and not really any branches due to a complete lack of family besides wife & son.

➡️➡️ one spikey for each person he’s gravely pissed off. . . three spikes lead to kofi for those hateful individuals who also despise her just by marrying him. and two spikes lead to L for two absolutely hateful sons of bitches who loathe L aswell.

🗝️ QUILLISH ‘ WATARI ‘ WAMMY

european ( english oak )

L, adoptive son: ah yes, his little prodigy that really should get out of the house more. . . fortunately, there’s a solution to that. . . just making him go! which L doesn’t seem to whine and complain about like he did once he upon a time, years ago. seems his boy has finally grown into a man that understands, whether he likes it or not, engaging in more civilian experiences is a necessity for he and his family’s health.

➡️➡️ watari doesn’t see the care he still puts into L now as continuing his fatherly care. it’s strictly as his butler / righthand. . . watari does not take payment for this work though as he ‘ has all he could ever want already ‘.

ROGER, life-long friend / father-in-law-figure: watari believes wholeheartedly roger can run the orphanage they built from the ground together. it’s too much faith and belief, really. so much that it blinds him to seeing how much roger is NOT qualified for this.

M, daughter-in-law: changed so much since the day she walked into wammy’s. . . he’s watched her grow from a much farther distance than L. he’s happy with the progress she’s made in her health from the sickly little girl who needed the orphanages help. happy to be her butler and listening ear when need be.

NEAR & MELLO, adoptive grandchildren: oh these children are much easier to please than L was at his age. . . but maybe that’s just the years of experience of handling L speaking. want a toy? got it. new puzzle? right on the way. need to be driven to soccer practice? hop in the car.

➡️➡️ since near isn’t the ultimate sweet tooth like L, and mello only really likes chocolate worth sweets, watari very much so enjoys making them treats that leave the comfort zone of L’s sugar craving.

KOFI & VINCENT, adoptive son’s biological parents: he bets they were wonderful people.

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ no leaves on his wreath to signify he is old as a fart. but his longest branches have leaves to indicate that those connections are strong and he does enjoy them!

➡️➡️ each branch signifies a person not shown in watari’s life. specifically the one connected to his wreath is for family no longer here. the ones all along his line ‘ connected ‘ to roger is representative of other colleagues and friends. and the branches on his connection line to L resemble other children watari had a bond with as a caregiver. though none of them were strong, or made it as far, as his relationship with his son, L.

🥀 MASATOSHI ‘ M ‘ MIYAKE

european ( english oak ) , japanese ( japanese cedar )

AKUMI, biological mother: M only knows her through journal entries akumi started to write at the beginning of her pregnancy, like a baby scrapbook! M treats that thing like her bible. . . akumi was very excited to be a mother. . . such a shame she died right at the start of what should’ve been their jounrey together, huh?

KINSHU, biological father: M also never got to meet him. he died before she was born trying to protect akumi & her. his death is what caused the stress that killed akumi. so it’s all just truly unfortunate.

ROGER, father-figure: spent the most time with her during her years at wammy’s out of any other caregiver. since she was ‘ the easiest kids to deal with ‘ ( something she wore with honor back then, now doesn’t like to be reminded about ). M had once hoped one day roger would adopt her like watari did with L, now she’s glad he didn’t. as he continues to fumble his interactions with her ‘ not so easy to handle ‘ children. . .

L, husband: the weird little freak that lives in the walls of her manor. he intrigues her with his obtuse behavior and strange existence. . . but no seriously she’s head over heels for this scratchy beast. loves how much he spoils her rotten

NEAR, biological daughter: her precious girl, named near because she’s so near and dear to her heart, her little smartie pants whose just so goddamn smart. works herself happily to the bone to ensure near’s receiving the best care all around.

MELLO, adoptive son: her precious boy, her marshmallow, her little angel who always has a reasoning for his every obtuse action in her eyes. same with mello, M’s working round the clock to give him the best life a kid like him can have.

GEVANNI, little-brother-figure: sees him once a year at christmas but it’s like no time has passed every single year. first kid she connected with after becoming a caregiver at wammy’s at 18. but really was more like his stern older sister than somebody responsible for his wellbeing ( he was already a late teen when they met. . . wammy’s really wasn’t given the time to undo all the shit he went through beforehand )

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ the way i depicted the japanese cedar doesn’t really have branches or ‘ leaves ‘ like the others- - but each little flowery looking thing represents somebody from her past or another relationship she has that isn’t depicted. . .

➡️➡️ her and roger’s connection isn’t nearly as strong as L’s and watari’s, and the three flowers on her end / three leaves on his represents a ‘ three chances ‘ mentality with his behavior.

➡️➡️ her and gevanni’s connection line is weak and nontouching due to the sheer distance between them. as gevanni kicked bricks and moved to the U.S.A. basically the second after he turned 18. still, it’s there, they still care about eachother.

⌛️ AKUMI HATO

japanese ( japanese cedar )

KINSHU, lover: she had a thing for ghostly men who say cryptic shit. and that’s exactly the type of man kinshu was. her love for him ran hot. really, the world wasn’t ready for this kind of lover. and really, her entire world shattered into a million little pieces when he died. . .

M, biological daughter: oh her precious girl, she knows M was going to go on to do great things. and do very very well for herself. after all, she is her daughter, it’s practically fated she’ll take the world by storm.

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ every dead flower was a family member akumi had that didn’t take M in after she died. fortunately, as akumi doesn’t like her other family anyhow!

🕊️ KINSHU MIYAKE

japanese ( japanese cedar )

AKUMI, lover: he would do anything for her, he’s kiss the dirty ground she walks on. he’d rob every bank, he’d capture two of every animal, a true yearner.

M, biological daughter: the little ruler of his life in the making. he couldn’t wait to meet her, no doubt he was never more excited for something in his life. . . shame he never got to meet her, but he wouldn’t take back what he sacrificed to keep her safe.

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ like akumi, each dead flower is a relative that didn’t take M in. which he would also be glad about, as he hated his family also. . . too loud- - too stupid- - too barbaric.

🫚 ROGER RUVIE

european ( english oak )

WATARI, life-long friend / father-in-law-figure: what would life be without his best bud in it? literally have been friends since roger can remember. and has basically just followed watari’s close footsteps wherever he went. ‘ you want to open an orphanage in the rubble of ww2? okay! ‘ , ‘ you want me to work there and generally help / care for the children? okay! ‘ , ‘ you want to change the mission of the orphanage to give care to the most misfortunate kids in the world? okay! ‘ , ‘ you want to retire and leave this place full of deeply troubled children in my care because you trust me and believe i enjoy this line of work? okay! ‘. roger knows damn well he doesn’t like kids. . . but watari doesn’t gotta know that.

M, daughter-figure: she was so easy to handle when she was younger. why is she so difficult now??? why are her children. . . the way that they are. . .? roger can’t believe the girl he once knew happily spends her days wrangling these two little goblins. . . and why are they not biting her but keep trying to bite me??

L, son-in-law-figure: ‘ oh L, watari’s pride and joy. you’re probably why your children are so weird. ‘

NEAR & MELLO, grandchildren-figure: ‘ why won’t you hug me but will hug watari? ‘

GEVANNI, family-friend-figure: ‘ hey you! i remember you! you were a real piece of work back then! haha! ‘

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ roger still has a lot of leaves on his wreath to signify he has a lot more life to live.

➡️➡️ same rules as watari’s, the little branches of his connecting line resemble children roger has had a similar relationship than what he has with M. but none of them have gone on as well / long as with M. >> the branches off his connection line to watari represents friends in similar vein. and both connectinng lines have leaves to symbolize the strength in them.

🌥️ ‘ NEAR ‘ RIVER MIYAKE-LAWLIET

european ( english oak ) , japanese ( japanese cedar ), ghanian ( cocoa tree ) , thai ( golden shower tree )

M, biological mother: oh, so this is where she got her brashness and attitude. near is glad this trait passed down, a lot less people try to tread on her when she’s got generational venom.

➡️➡️ near, whether she aware of it or not, puts a solid effort into what M says and asks of her. when often the words of others are sent into the shredder of near’s mind. this is because she loves this woman, that’s her momma, one of her only friends.

L, biological father: oh this is her idol right now! her own father has checked off every box on deserving near’s respect and admiration with flying colors! she wants to be just like him! she wants to do what he does and how he does it! she wants to be the next L!

MELLO, adoptive brother: she thinks he’s interesting, and looks up to him in her own unique way. he doesn’t know that though, and she ain’t gonna tell him.

➡️➡️ near enjoys shadowing mello’s activities, not very much so participating, but spectating. the cause and effect of what he does fascinates her.

WATARI, adoptive grandfather: ‘ yay the toy guy, thank you for the toy. yeah your gifts put me at ease enough that we can hug for a solid three seconds. ‘

ROGER, grandfather-figure: ‘ don’t touch me, don’t talk to me, you say nothing of value. don’t whine about it either, it’s your fault you are the way you are. ‘

GEVANNI, family-friend-figure: she thinks he’s very much so cool as fuck. he’s literally the alternative older cousin with the kickass car and laid back attitude. who, just like her, has interests outside of what would be deemed normal for who he is. . . basically, he’s everything she wishes she could be. but won’t be, because her brain just isn’t built to compute like his.

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ not much to go off of because she’s just a teensy thing. . . but under the flags is the very first flower, pointed at gevanni. meant to symbolize the importance of their relationship to her that will last years to come.

🍫 MIHAEL ‘ MELLO ‘ LAWLIET

croatian ( slovanian oak ) , european ( english oak )

M, adoptive mother: his confidant, his protector. didn’t give up on him when everyone else did. he’s too little and damaged to really express that he’s grateful for her, but one day he will. for now, his continuous reliance on her will just have to be proof enough that he trusts her.

L, adoptive father: oh this guy is cool. . . THIS GUY IS FAMOUS!! mello wants to be the next L right now, but as a better and brighter successor, he wants to be the BEST! and he’ll do whatever it takes to win L’s affection and ensure this future is his!

NEAR, adoptive sister: ‘ augh! don’t you see i’m trying to become my own person? damnit! stop following me around!!! “ “ . . . oh no wait, don’t go, watch this totally epic prank i’m about to pull you’ve love it! “

LILLIE, biological aunt: heaven has to be real because his aunt really deserves it. he misses her the absolute most. . .

WATARI, adoptive grandfather: ‘ yay the guy that gives me chocolate even after i’ve been cut off for the day. sure i’ll let you hug me because of these positive experiences we’ve had. don’t expect a hug back though, i’m not a pansy. ‘

ROGER, grandfather-figure: ‘ M & L said i can bite you if you try to force me into a hug again. but i’m just gonna do it right now anyways because i don’t like the look on your face. ‘

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ his wreath is growing little acorns to signify his growth since entering the family. that’s why there are so many around the knot that connects him to near, M & L.

➡️➡️ the connecting line to him and his aunt is force cut, but still there, and still strong. he already has two branches trying to grow towards her.

➡️➡️ the little branches jabbing into near’s wreath symbolizes how they don’t always get along that well. and they’re growing from mello’s side despite their spats being a two person effort because near’s very good at manipulating situations into looking like she’s just an unfortunate passerby. especially with mello who is still dealing with lots and lots of big emotions. . .

➡️➡️ two of the little acorns growing represents matt but i ain’t gonna tell you which:3c

📿 LILLIE KEEHL

croatian ( slovanian oak )

MELLO, biological nephew: oh her little buddy, it should’ve just been him and her from the very start. lillie’s every rotty little fiber is tensed not knowing if he’s safe from her horrid sister and wretched brother-in-law. . .

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ what you should expect at this point. no leaves because she’s dead, branches symbolize family not shown. her branches reach in mello’s direction always.

💰STEPHEN ‘ GEVANNI ‘ LOUD

european ( english oak ) , japanese ( japanese cedar )

M, big-sister-figure: gevanni once rejected M’s proposal of joining the family. as he didn’t want family holding him back. still, despite his efforts to stay hidden in the darkest little crevices of the world, M manages to get him an invitation for christmas dinner every year. and he RSVP’s every single time.

L, brother-in-law-figure: ‘ god you’re strange. . . i can see why M likes you. ‘

NEAR & MELLO, niece-&-nephew-figure: ‘ hey kids, wanna hear about the time i broke into this super big important museum and stole a statue bust worth millions??? oh, just near? fine by me-! ‘

ROGER, grandfather-figure: ‘ every family’s gotta have a guy like you around, roger, it just ain’t the full experience without the weird grandpa. ‘

WATARI, grandfather-figure: ‘ you may be responsible for leaving roger in charge of wammy’s, and that might have been a crazy decision, but god do you make a good strawberry shortcake. ‘

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ each little leafy tendril is a connection gevanni has. BUT NOT FAMILY! he doesn’t have any of that. . . he’s a lone wolf. . . an alpha male, if you will.

➡️➡️ still, the connection to M is there, and he is developing a strong connection with near, slowly.

🌳 yay, thank god, i’m done. this is so long, but i love it. and just like most asks i take every single chsnce to yap too much. . . but now you know about L’s entire family dynamics!! so yayy!!!!!

THESE are just little memories. . . L coming to wammy’s house, he and M’s first kiss, & that time he caught M crying and tried to comfort her despite being right shit at it. it’s the thought that counts, y’know <3

[padawansuggest]

"Bo-Katan should eat out Din" You are so g#damn right and you should say it

I’ll say it louder for those in the back: HER TONGUE SHOULD BE SO FAR UP HIS BUSSY HE’S CRYING thank you

[arkhamsbrat]

sorry to all my lovelies requesting anything abt dick grayson i cannot write for him because i am Literally Him!

dont look at the tags im not writing for him look away

[jils-things]

i wanna do the "im not calling you a good boy bit" BUT I JUST DON'T KNOW WHO TO DRAW!!!!

[puppmeo]

Have you ever been assumed to be romantically attracted to someone and even just the thought of that makes you want to throw up . Anybody

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

[princessbrunette]

hi princess! I was just thinking about shy!reader ending rafe nudes for the first time 🫣 can u pls write abt it

⊹ ~ ⊹ ~ ݁. 🎀 ݁.⊹୨🐰୧ ⊹ . ݁🎀 . ݁~ ⊹ ~ ⊹

he wasn’t expecting it. he thought he’d have to work harder for you to open up like that.

it was toppers turn to swing, the group of them playing golf at the country club. rafe scowls in the sun, staring across the hills in thought knowing his younger friend often took ages to line up and get a good swing in. just as he was wondering what you would be up to right about now, lifting his wrist to check the time — his phone dings with a text and he reaches into his pocket, eyes lighting up in intrigue upon seeing it was your name on the screen, with one attachment.

he clicks on the picture and freezes.

it’s a selfie, you sat infront of the mirror in your bedroom. however, you look askew — clearly hot and flustered with your dress disheveled, one sleeve hanging off your shoulder nearly exposing your tit and the hem pulled up around your waist. you’ve got no panties on, legs open with your knees pointing up and feet flat to the floor and in the image you’re spreading your sloppy, wet cunt with your fingers, a mess of your own arousal coating you. the image is paired with a simple caption — ‘please come to my house i miss u :(’

now you were shy, like — hardcore shy. shit, it took you a while to even let rafe touch on you and fuck you without getting overwhelmed and wanting to cry everytime he looked at you. he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“holy shit. hooooly shit.” he drawls, beginning to pace a little, staring at the image and zooming in. topper gets distracted, turning his head.

“whats up?” he asks as rafe types a quick ‘Give me 15 mins baby’ into his keyboard. rafe glances up, lips parted at his two friends, staring at him for answers.

“shit uh, nah… nah don’t worry.”

he pockets his phone, looking to start packing up his stuff.

“nah c’mon man, what happened?” kelce comes towards him with a friendly grin and rafe lightly shoves him back by the shoulder, walking past to the golf buggy.

“i said don’t worry, alright? i uh, gotta roll though. see you guys around.” rafe punctuates his sentence with a scoffed chuckle of disbelief, swinging his golf bag over his shoulder.

“did… did something happen?” topper shakes his head.

“look, i gotta go see my girl alright, said she needs me. sending me pictures of her pussy all spread out n’shit. respectfully, m’not spending another minute with you suckers.” rafe holds up his hands, biting the bait and telling them anyway. he couldn’t help himself, at the end of the day; a boy.

kelce laughs in shock and toppers eyebrows raise, eyes widening as he says your name in questioning confirmation.

“yeah, who the fuck else?” rafe collects his last club from the buggy, slotting it into the bag.

“what— she’s like, the sweetest girl i know. super shy though, am i wrong?” topper seems in just as much as disbelief as rafe, who shrugs, beginning to walk backwards away from his friends.

“so i thought.” rafe calls out with a smirk, arms wide by his side before he spins around to make his way swiftly to your house to show him how much he appreciated your little text message gift.

⊹ ~ ⊹ ~ ݁. 🎀 ݁.⊹୨🐰୧ ⊹ . ݁🎀 . ݁~ ⊹ ~ ⊹

[goldsbitch]

Kiss with a fist

To his twins, the world is ending. To Lando, it’s another exhausting reminder that parenting might actually be harder than racing.

or - No boys allowed near the girls from now on, especially not his rivals' son.

warning: dad! Lando, none, fun, domestic 3k word count stand alone part of Norris Family Polaroids

//

There is a loud crying sound coming from the room the seven year olds share and Lando has never felt so old in his bones. He'd just come back from an exhausting race and those don't exactly get easier with age. In times like these, he longs for the days when he was in his first years in F1, blissfully unaware of just how capable and seamless his body was. Anyway. No time to sulk in. One of his daughters is in distress and the day he does not respond to that will be the day he willingly puts himself up in jail.

He gets up from the couch and rushes over to the kids room. The crying is not stopping and when he enters it somehow starts clicking all in. He kneels down and hugs Maya, who looks like is determined to cry her eyes out. Meanwhile, Olivia is sitting on her bed, exceptionally quiet and has never looked more suspicious in her life, ever.

"We need to keep a closer eye on Liv, I think she's teasing Maya too much these days" he recalls Y/N saying over the phone one late evening. It was an early morning call for him, due to the timezones, but he remembers it clearly. He brushed it off, telling his wife that it's getting late over back home and that she should go and get some sleep while she can. But right now, assessing the current situation, he is not so sure about his previous judgement. Long gone is the time he was scared of being a bad parent, of fucking up. He's come to realization that he will inevitably fuck up - not in the same way as his parents, but in a completely new and original way. The fact they were blessed with twins making it that more likely to happen. He's hugging and caressing one daughter, while eyeing the other. Olivia has this look in her face and his stomach sinks down deeply, because he has seen this look before. In the mirror, many times. He was what most would consider a peaceful quiet child. Unless it was him and his sister alone. He'd tease her mercilessly, wait for her to start crying and then play innocent. His parents fell for that so easily.

And now, he's looking at his own daughter, who stares right back at him, and they both know. He shakes his head, making sure Maya does not see and while it does make him mad, it makes him less mad that it should. Because ultimately, he knows that him and his sisters grew up just fine and this teasing eventually stopped. Still, his other daughter is wallowing in his arms and he can't ignore that.

Maya is the first one to speak. "Daddy...I don't want to have a baby," she leans back from his embrace and pouts at him in a way only seven year old know how. So raw, honest and unfiltered.

Lando must have misheard her. “Come again, sweetheart?”

He brushes few tears away. At least she’s not sobbing anymore and is focused on trying to get the words out. “I don’t want to have a baby, I’m too young for that”.

It’s hard not to agree with that. She is seven years old.

He smiles gently, trying to somehow untangle this. "Why would you have a baby?" Another stream of tears and cries follows and she wraps herself in his arms again. He sighs, as it is does not get easier with time to hear your little daughter cry and he looks up to Olivia, who's still sitting on her bed. He's not mad per say, but he's silently asking her to help him find an answer to this all. This is the first time that Liv's expression shakes up and cracks away, hinting on either guilt or at least a sorrow she feels at the sight of her own twin crying. Good, Lando thinks. He tries as much as he can to avoid automatically blaming her for anything without having enough information about the situation. But, his it's hard to ignore his intuition.

He turns to Maya again. "Sweetie, why would you have a baby? You're so young?"

Maya's voice trips over her own sobs, but she finally speaks again. "I...I kissed a boy today."

Now - hold on. First of all, why is his seven year old daughter kissing some boys? He feels himself tense up. Of course he knew this days would come, but he was silently hoping for ten more years of keeping his little angels as they were. Just young, tiny kids running around playing tag. Not kissing boys, girls or whomever. "Who did you kiss?" he can't stop himself from asking, silently hoping he does not know the parent of said boy, because there is no way of preventing himself from making the "concerned parent phone call". Monte Carlo is small, there is only few nursery schools around here. It's an everyone sort of knows everyone kind of situation. "Maya, don't worry - you're not in trouble," he adds, trying to make sure he keeps up on having his daughter willing to tell him stuff like that. She is not in trouble - the boy is. Lando used to be a boy. He knows what's up.

Maya's lip is trembling and her eyes are wet. He can't bear that sight. "Sweetheart, you're not pregnant. I'm sure of that," he consoles her and after few moments of deep thought, she seems to believe him. She ask once more for confirmation. His answered is interrupted by his other daughter, who now looks equally concerned as Maya was just a minute ago.

"But she is pregnant. That's how it works. Boys at the playground said so," she speaks, oh-so-sure of her claims. He face is serious and has a sense of fatality around it. He begins to understand how other children would fall so deeply under this spell.

Ah, Lando thinks and the penny drops. He runs his hands through his hair and has to chuckle just a bit. He doesn't want Maya to think he’s making fun of her, but the absurdity of the situation is too much. He leans back on his heels, looking between his two daughters. Maya’s face is still flushed from crying, and Olivia is sitting with her arms crossed, looking like a pint-sized prophet of doom.

He clears his throat, trying to sound as serious as possible. "Okay, let's get something straight out of the way. Kissing someone is not how you get pregnant," he speaks and his mind briefly flashes to the panic he and Y/N felt the moment they found out she was pregnant with the twins. It's been a long time ago and enlightening journey since, but he can somewhat understand the sentiment. He tries to ground his children down some more. "Look at me and Mommy. We kiss all the time and she is not pregnant, right?"

Olivia seems intrigued. "So, how do you get pregnant?" He looks at her and curses himself for walking right into that one. It's clear in her face and maneurism that she is going to be a very difficult teenager one day. "Ask Mommy when she comes back," he blurts out, not at all prepared for that talk. He's also already mentally ordering apology bouquet for his dear wife for throwing her under a bus like that. He turns to Maya again. "Anyway, you don't worry. You're not pregnant," he caresses her cheek and once she really does seem more calm, he asks. "Now - who kissed you?"

Maya glances at Olivia, and Lando notices his other daughter watching with laser focus. Olivia’s lips are pressed tightly together, her expression that of someone who knows something and is dying to spill it.

“Do you want me to tell him?” Olivia asks suddenly, looking unable to contain herself any longer.

“Liv,” Lando says with a sigh, shooting her a warning look.

“What? I already know who it was,” Olivia says, folding her arms across her chest with a dramatic flair that only a seven-year-old can pull off. He averts his gaze to Maya, who looks like is ready to fess up.

"You're not in trouble," he says and hopes he can keep up on his promise.

She tenses up and something tells Lando he actually does not want to know. "It was Lucas." Too late. “Lucas,” he repeats, his voice carefully neutral.

Maya nods slowly, her cheeks flushing pink. “Lucas Verstappen,” she specifies. Lando feels his stomach drop. Max Verstappen’s son. Of all the boys in the world, it had to be Lucas, the mini version of the Verstappen gang and what one would call a true heir of their infamous blunt approach to life. If this is true, it marks the beginning of a lifetime of headaches. His poor, sweet little daughter - one he'll have to protect until forever.

"And she kissed him too!" Olivia nearly screams out, letting her opinion on this known by the judgy tone.

Lando eyes grow wide and he silently thankful for Olivia spilling it like it is. Maya's guilt ridden face gives it away all. "Maya, honey, aren't you a little young to be kissing boys?" he asks rhetorically, because of course - his little angel should definitely not be doing that.

"I would never kiss a boy! They are gross and annoying," Olivia blurts out, ever-so-competitive. He's not sure what scares him more, Maya who's running around kissing boys or Olivia, who reminds him of himself more each passing day. Let's see about that, Liv, when in ten years I'm warding off boys from your window, he thinks, but does not say it out loud.

"He kissed me first!" Maya defends herself and snuggles into Lando's embrace more. He sighs. It's not been the quiet chill down he expected to return to.

"Okay, ladies. Let's all calm down. How about some ice-cream?" he offers, hoping that cheap bribing will buy him some time to think. The sudden cheers confirm it and he's adding another five flowers to the bouquet for Y/N, knowing she won't condone this.

//

He's watching his daughters munch on the impromptu ice-cream sundae, both of them sitting silently on the kitchen counter, apparently dead set on destroying their pajamas with colorful stains.

The name Verstappen still rings in his ears. They're suppose to have a little family get together tomorrow and for some reason, that's starting to increasingly bother him.

He excused himself for a moment and goes to the balcony, making what he fears is one of the first distressed "my daughter kissed someone" call in his life - and not the last one. Headache. That's what it is.

The phone rings twice before Max picks up, his voice sounding tired and politely annoyed.

“Lando. What’s up, mate? Is it urgent, I'm kind of dead tonight.”

Lando takes a deep breath, trying to sound calm. Oh, you and your son will be dead very soon.

"Hi Max, yeah, it sort of is," he murmurs, trying to think his strategy through. "We have to cancel tomorrow, something came up." Genius. That's who he is. Now, he just has to move his family away from Monte Carlo and make sure Maya never meets Lucas Verstappen ever again. Problem solved.

Max doesn’t miss a beat. "Cancel? What do you mean cancel? Lucas has been talking about seeing the girls all week." Of course he has. Lando groans internally. Of course Lucas has been excited. This wasn’t just any hangout. This was apparently the next chapter in their little playground romance.

"Yeah, not gonna happen, mate," Lando insists, leaning on the balcony railing, running a hand through his hair, overlooking at his dearest angels, who will need his infinite protection. "We can’t do it. Something came up. Okay, bye."

Max is quick enough to speak before he manages to hang up. "Wait, what? If it's a problem for you and Y/N, we can just take care of the kids, no problem."

Is it the whole Verstappen family that wants to take his precious daughters? Lando knows he might be overreacting, but he is a tired man with a resposibility over two seven year old. Cut him some slack.

"No. Canceled. Bye," he says and kills the call. There, all sorted. He immediately goes on figuring out some back up activity for the family, something that will sound so exciting that they will all forget about the Verstappens.

Max calls him right back and he does not pick it up.

The young father goes on putting the girls down, everyone is now calm and there are no more pregnancy scares. He is good at this. Everything is great. Just as the girls are tucked into bed, eyelids drooping and calm finally restored, Lando’s phone buzzes once more. He glances over at it, expecting Max to be trying again. Instead, he sees Y/N’s name flashing on the screen.

“Hi, love,” Lando answers, trying to sound casual. He winks at his daughters, who are always excited when Mommy's around. “How’s dinner?”

“It’s nice,” Y/N replies, but her tone has an edge, the one where he knows she’s about to interrogate him. “How’s everything at home? The girls okay?”

“They’re fine,” Lando says quickly and decides to leave the kids bedroom, so that he can pace around, as he always does when Y/N sounds like that. ���All good here. No problems.”

There’s a beat of silence. He can feel her narrowing her eyes through the phone. He can hear the rush of the restaurant she's at, so her calling him must have a pretty good reason.

"Mm hm. So why did you cancel tomorrow’s hangout with Max and his family?"

Lando rolls his eyes, his brain scrambling for an answer while cursing Max mentally. Ugh. “Uh… something came up?”

"What "something," exactly?" Y/N presses, her voice filled with wonder.

"Just… things," Lando says vaguely, mentally kicking himself.

"Things," Y/N repeats flatly. "Lando, Max is suspicious. He just called me, distressed, asking what was going on, and now he thinks you’re mad at him."

This fires him up again. "Well, I am mad at him! So he got that right." Saying this makes him feel like the child in this scenario. Headache. Again.

Y/N sighs. "Did something happen on the track?" he asks patiently.

"What?" he asks, confused. He shakes his head. "No, no, it's um...The girls don't want to meet Lucas tomorrow, that's all."

Even he can't believe his tone.

"The same girls that spent the whole of yesterday excited about the bouncy castle they have at home?" she speaks with almost annoyed tone now. Lando groans, resting his forehead on the cool countertop. He does not have an answer. Just as he's about to fill her in on the whole kissing debacle, he continues. "Look, unless they're sick or something, can you please call Max and talk this out? I'm at the dinner and I can't just spend it all on the phone with my husband and his friend. Call him and talk it out."

Why is life so hard on him? "Do I have to? Can’t we just-"

"Lando," Y/N interrupts firmly. "You canceled without an explanation. You absolutely have to."

"Fine," he says, defeated. "Have a nice dinner, honey. I miss you," he concludes genuinely.

"Me too," Y/N says, her tone softening slightly. "I’ll check in when I’m on my way home. Love you."

"Love you too," Lando mutters, hanging up. He stares at his phone for a moment, then reluctantly dials Max’s number again.

It rings twice before Max answers, his voice dripping with faux innocence.

"Hey man. What the fuck?" Verstappens - always the pleasure.

"Max," Lando starts, rubbing his temple. "How are you? All good?" he asks politely, like the Brit he used to be once.

"What the fuck do you mean, how am I. You cancel out of nowhere and now Lucas won't talk to me, so yeah, great night off for me," he hears unfiltered tone coming through the speaker. He can't say it does not please him a bit.

"Well, it's late, he should be sleeping anyway," Lando let's out of his mouth before he thinks that through, ragging Max even further.

"You stop giving me instructions on how to raise my child and act like an adult for a moment, would you?"

"If someone should act more adult, it's Lucas," Yeah, Lando. Great comeback. Wow. The eight year old should act more like an adult.

Max manages to brush over that. "Did he do something to the twins? You need to tell me these things, how am I suppose to fix it if I don't know what happened? Or if something has even happened?"

It's hard to fight that logic. Especially after the evening Lando has had today. Lando sighs. There’s no way out of this, so he decides to just rip off the band-aid. "Maya told me… that Lucas kissed her. The silence on the other end is deafening. "And she kissed him back," Lando adds, cringing.

Max’s response is immediate: he bursts into laughter. "Oh, my God," Max wheezes. "Lucas and Maya? That’s amazing."

"It's anything but amazing, Max,” Lando snaps, pacing around again. "She thought she was pregnant because of something the kids on the playground told her! Do you know how much emotional damage I’ve endured in the past hour?"

Max is still laughing, clearly delighted. "Mate, you’re overreacting. They’re small. It’s harmless."

"This is the first boy she’s kissed, Max!" Lando argues. "Your son is now part of her origin story!"

"Oh, please," Max says, still chuckling. "What do you think is going to happen? They’ll run away together? They’re kids, Lando. Relax. It's normal for the to do this."

"I can’t relax," Lando grumbles. "And what’s worse, Olivia is now convinced she’s never falling in love because, and I quote, "boys are gross.""

Max cackles again. "Honestly, that’s probably for the best. Liv’s smart."

Lando's cup of patience, small one to begin with, is truly overflowing.

"Alright, alright," Max says, finally calming down and sensing that teasing Lando is not the way to go about it tonight. "Look, Lucas is a good kid. He probably just thought Maya looked pretty and didn’t know how else to say it. I’ll talk to him, alright? But you don’t need to cancel tomorrow over this."

Lando hesitates, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He knows they would all team up against him anyway. He lost this one. "You’re sure he won’t try anything else?"

Max snorts. "What, like propose? No, Lando, I don’t think so. He’s seven."

Fine.

//

The sound of children’s laughter fills the Verstappens’ backyard, the air warm and bright with sunlight. Like it's all mocking Lando specifically. The infamous bouncy castle stands in all its glory. Lando leans against a chair at the patio table, his arms crossed as he surveys the scene with the intensity of investors watching their car getting overtaken on track.

Maya and Lucas are bouncing together, grinning ear to ear like they’ve completely forgotten the events of yesterday. Meanwhile, Olivia stands off to the side, arms crossed and nose wrinkled in distaste, looking like she’s silently judging the entire scenery. She’s probably drafting her manifesto on why boys are, indeed, “gross.” Lando feels proud. At least one of his daughters is strong enough not to fall for cheap boy's tricks. Not even Y/N seems to understand the gravity of the situation. No matter how long Lando spent trying to explain it to her. Cute, that's what she called it. He hopes this is not a precedent. For now, he stands alone.

"You’re watching them like a prison guard," Y/N comments, nudging Lando gently as she sits down beside him.

"And for good reason," Lando replies, narrowing his eyes at Lucas, who’s apparently successfull at making Maya laugh. "He’s already made a move once. I’m not letting it happen again." He will sit happily sit in every playground they happen to encounter each other at.

Y/N hides her smile behind her coffee cup. "I think we’re safe for now. They’re just kids, Lando. You don’t have to treat Lucas like he’s some F1 rival trying to steal pole position from you."

"He is trying to steal something," Lando grumbles under his breath. Max strolls over, holding a plate of snacks, like the responsible dad he pretends to play, and looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Enjoying the show?"

Lando gives him a side-eye glare. "You think this is funny, don’t you?" Max smirks, popping a grape into his mouth and just nods.

"Your son traumatized my daughters yesterday," Lando fires away.

Max rolls his eyes. "And now they’re bouncing around like best friends again. Kids bounce back back. In this case, literally." Oh, he thinks he's so funny.

As if on cue, Lucas lands a little too close to Maya, sending both of them tumbling onto the floor of the bouncy castle in a fit of giggles. Lando tenses, halfway out of his seat before Y/N grabs his arm.

"Relax," she whispers. "It's fine." "For now," Lando protests, settling back reluctantly. From across the yard, Lucas suddenly stands up and calls out: "Mr. Norris!" Lando freezes, his eyes narrowing as the devil child approaches him. "What?" Lucas grins, holding up a flower he’s picked from the garden. He's rushing over to his and hands it to Lando, eyes filled with expectation and anticipation. "This is for Maya!" Speechless Lando accepts the flower, albeit confused as to why he's handing the flower to him and not to Maya, if she's the supposent recipient. Lucas flashes one look towards his father and in the corner of the eye, Lando can see Max nod approvingly. They really have all teamed up against him. Everyone is watching them and waiting for something exiting to happen. Olivia, the only one having Lando's back, lets out an audible groan loud enough to be heard across the yard.

"Oh, come on," she says, throwing her hands in the air. “This is ridiculous. I’m never falling in love. Ever!”

Y/N snorts into her coffee, Max doubles over laughing, and Lando buries his face in his hands. Meanwhile, happy Lucas runs back to the bouncing castle.

"Why is my life like this?" he wonders, looking up the sky for answers. None come. Y/N pats his shoulder affectionately. "Because you’re the dad of two amazing girls. And one of them might have a little crush. It’s not the end of the world."

"It’s the beginning of the end," Lando mumbles dramatically. Max grins, leaning closer. "You know, if Lucas and Maya end up together, we’ll officially be family. Imagine that, Lando," he pauses dramatically. "Maya Verstappen."

Lando's stomach turns upside down, he groans and turns to Y/N. "We're moving to another continent."

The domestic afternoon continues, adults laughing and talking - apart form Lando, who sits in his observant position, regularly sighing, back leaning and forth in his chair. It’s going to be a long, chaotic road ahead. And it looks like he's the only sane person around - in his opinion exclusively.

----------------------- note: fire up them ideas for this pseudo series!!! love you all

[murderofravens]

THIEF

pairing: the salesman x fem!reader

summary: he looked harmless enough. you should've known you were stealing from the wrong man.

warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, NON CON ELEMENTS but no actual smut, father issues, talks of abusive past (reader ran away from home) physical and verbal abuse, slapping, hitting and all that. age gap because of course, its my fic afterall. he's fucked up. that's it. read at your own risk.

A/N: shoutout to @muntitled for her incredible salesman fics and for inspiring me to start writing again. you're awesome.

prequel to VIOLATE

MASTERLIST

the station seems colder today. your eyes twitch as you look around, analysing the people waiting for their next train. a woman sitting on a bench, reading. a few college students who probably are in more debt than you. a homeless man mumbling incoherently to himself while trying to light a match. a group of teenage boys laughing at something on their phone— you make a mental note to stay away from that side, for the sake of your own safety. the lightbulb flickers as you take a seat on the dirty floor, contemplating your options. that woman looks a good enough target— but with the layers of clothes she's got on, you don't believe you'll have any luck with her.

you hear footsteps coming down the stairs. you don't look up, merely focusing your gaze on the floor and pretending to be lost in thought. you've learned it's much easier to get away with pickpocketing if you don't immediately look at the person you're stealing from. something about not looking suspicious. a pair of shiny dress shoes stand by the train tracks— and you allow your gaze to trail up, up, up. this man has some long legs, you think to yourself. a crisp, stoney gray suit, and broad shoulders. a briefcase in hand and a seemingly innocent gaze looking around.

someone financially stable, judging by the expensive watch on his wrist. on first glance, you decide he looks like the kind of man who would be too tired or bored to run after you if he caught you in the act.

he'll be paying for your dinners for atleast a week.

as you stand up casually, you spot your target put on a charming smile and walk over to where the homeless man is warming his hands. you can't hear the conversation because the man's back is turned to you, but you can tell he is trying to advertise something to him. he opens his briefcase, and you catch sight of bundles of cash in it. you feel your heartbeat immediately picking up. your body feels warmer now; imagining a bright future for yourself if you managed to get a hand on the briefcase.

you don't bother eavesdropping in the conversation, you have other priorities. luckily, the woman on the bench was reading with her legs spread forward. you take the opportunity and stumble over her feet, losing your footing and falling forward with a loud cry— crashing right into your target who stumbles forward onto the homeless guy who lets out a string of curses.

"watch where you're fucking going!" he yells, and you're sure the woman behind you called you a fucking nutjob as well.

apologizing profusely, you put on your best sheepish expression and pat your target's back, helping him up. he looks at you strangely, giving you a tight lipped smile, and when you slip out his wallet from his back pocket, he doesn't seem to notice. before you can get a hand on the briefcase, he tugs it back and guides it towards the homeless man, engaging in another conversation with him. you're quick to walk away without another glance, swearing to yourself on your missed opportunity. but you suppose a wallet is better than nothing.

the first thing you do is run out and aim towards a crowded area you can disappear into. you open the wallet and pull out some cash— no identification, no credit cards. just a simple paper card with some symbols on it. it makes you wince. you thought with atleast an address or a name, you could've robbed him, but the universe seems to fucking hate you.

you eat some noodles from a street vendor. it's one of your favourites. in moments like these, you miss home. but you figure that having to steal and feed yourself is better than always having to walk on eggshells around your father— wondering when the next hit might come. or what other aspect of you would he decide to fixate on till you start hating yourself. you were tired of that life. this is okay, you'll deal with it.

it's when you're walking back to that rusty apartment you've started calling home that you feel a strange, prickling sensation on your back. so far, you always wondered if what people said was true— that you can tell when you're being watched. right now, you can feel it— this strange, unsettling fear that something is following you. you abruptly look behind, but there's no one there. you consider taking a short cut— but decide it's the stupidest thing you could do, so you just run home as fast as you can and hope whoever it is, doesn't catch you.

you feel victorious as you open the door to your place. as you step inside, something kicks you in the back of your knees and you yelp before falling forward, right on your face.

"what the fuck!?" you shriek breathlessly, scared out of your mind as you lean on your elbows and try to sit up. there's a haunting shadow blocking your doorway, and you can feel your heart begin to pound nervously as you spot the man from the station.

"you look at home down there," he says calmly, accent heavy in his voice. "rightful place for a thief like you."

your voice is stuck in your throat— eyes wide as you let out sharp, heavy breaths. does he know? how long has he been following you? did he involve the police? what is he going to do?

"listen, man." you start shakily, sitting up, "i don't know what you're talking about—"

as you try to stand again, his foot comes up and collides with your shoulder, sending you to the floor again, "fuck!—"

he doesn't let you up as you lay against the floor, his shoe painfully digging into your collarbone, "not only did you sabotage my job tonight, but you also stole from me. i don't like thieves—"

"i hadn't eaten in days!" you cry out, a hand coming up to grab onto his leg, eyes pleading with him to have some sympathy. you really try. "i'll— i can pay you back—"

"by stealing from someone else?" he asks, amused.

"no! god—" you let out a choked breath. you're scared out of your damn mind, it's obvious, but more so because the violence and humiliation you're facing now is what you ran away from home to avoid. you don't want this man to violate you. you're tired of being scared. "i can— i can do a job! anything! ill work for you or- or— i'm sorry, please—"

the man takes joy in your cries, it's obvious in the amusement in his eyes. he's enjoying the way you stumble over your words and make a fool of yourself. but after a moment of begging, he pulls his leg back and gives you a moment to breathe. you sit up, choking on heavy breaths, holding onto your shoulder.

"let's play a game."

you look up at him with bloodshot eyes— barely holding back tears. his hand twitches.

you're shaking. this man just had his foot on your shoulder, and he wants to play a game?

when he doesn't get a response from you, he continues, "it's called ddakji. if you win, i'll give you cash." he opens the briefcase, smiles sinisterly as your eyes land on the object of your desires. "i saw you watching it, back at the station. such a shame your little plan didn't work, no?"

you grit your teeth, looking away from his taunting eyes. "and if i lose?"

"then i get to slap you."

your head snaps up— breathing getting heavy again. is this really what your life has come to? is it really worth it? you're back to square one— perhaps, you could leave your home, but the violence will always follow. the realization of your fate has a tear rolling down your cheek. you really try to sound tough when you gather the courage to speak again. "and why would i do that?"

"because you're desperate," he says calmly, leaning forward to brush the tear away with his thumb. the action has your heart fluttering for just a moment— many men have made you cry, but not one of them have ever wiped the tears. it's stupid. he quirks an eyebrow, settling you with a blank stare that shakes you to your core. "what have you got to lose, anyway?"

he's right, you think. would you rather take a few slaps and then live your life independently? or would you choose to live in fear about when you'd be on the receiving end of your father's wrath again?

you choose the former.

he explains the concept of the game and you get to choose the color of your tile— you pick the red one because it's your favourite color. with as much strength as you can, you try to flip his tile, but it merely jumps and then lands back like it was. it sends your heart plummeting down your stomach.

you know well what's coming next— it's all you've ever known your whole life. you flinch as his hand raises, but he stops midway. you tremble violently, eyeing his palm nervously. he eyes you curiously for a while, before another twisted smile appears on his face.

"you ever get hit before?" he asks, voice taunting. you swallow hard. "boyfriend?" he pushes his hand closer, making you flinch again. "ah, i know— father."

before you can snap at him, his hand collides with your cheek, making you let out a sharp cry. your face twists to the side and you take a deep breath— try to console yourself. it's just a game. he's not doing it out of malice. false promises.

you bite down on your lower lip to avoid calling him a fucking dickhead and telling him to rot.

he just smiles as he goes next. you pray to the gods he doesn't flip your tile— and thankfully, he doesn't. it makes you sigh in relief as he tosses a bundle of cash at your feet. you bend down to pick it up, "oh my god, thank you, thank you—"

he tsks, shaking his head, "game isn't over."

you go another round, and you win. you cheer heartily as you get another bundle of the cash tossed at your feet— and he sighs to himself. suddenly this game seems better.

you try to use your previous technique to flip his tile, and it doesn't work. it earns you another slap. it doesn't get better— you get as many slaps as you do cash. tears roll down your sore cheeks— they're heated and they hurt. you feel faint. only you know how much strength it takes to keep standing. you're sure your face will bruise tomorrow. he doesn't stop until you have half the cash from his briefcase. you can't hold back your sobs— you don't know what you're crying for. the cash, or the slaps? both, perhaps.

"you did good," he says, stepping forward and invading your personal space. his hands are warm as he cups your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears. you try to pull your face away, but one warning glare from him has you frozen in place. "look on the bright side, you decided to steal from me today and you earned some money. even if it came with a little beating. but you took it like a good girl, didn't you?"

his words should have you convulsing. you should be kicking him in the balls and hitting him with the nearest object you can find— but you're hypnotized— caught in a trance by his words of praise. against your better judgement, you nod, before shamefully averting your gaze.

he smiles tightly and steps away. adjusts the buttons of his suit jacket and looks around before going to the couch and sitting down. "why don't you go fetch me a glass of water?" he stretches his arms, shoots a provocative smile your way. "all this exercise has me feeling thirsty."

you want to tell him to shove his exercise up your ass and leave, but you decide to do as he said. you're in no position to threaten him. he's much stronger than you, and judging by everything else, much older as well. men like him are not easy to fool. and you really don't want to get hit again.

as you pour him a glass of water, you eye his briefcase again. if you could somehow manage to perhaps weaken him for just a moment— you could get all the cash and maybe run away. you would spike his water but you don't have any drugs. you have to do this the hard way. you pocket a fork and then head back to deliver him his water.

as he drinks, you kneel by his feet, gathering your cash. carefully, you pull out the fork, and with as much strength as you can, slam it down onto the side of his foot.

"you little bitch—" he groans loudly, wincing and throwing his head back and clenching his jaw before splashing the water from the glass on your face. it makes you squeal. before you can attack again, he pulls the fork out and tosses it to the side. your eyes widen and you rush to get it, but he sticks his leg out and you trip and fall on your face again.

a crunchy sound emerges as he steps on your wrist, his shoe digging into the delicate appendage. you let out a shrill cry.

"the one thing i hate more than thieves—" he snickers, looking down at you like you're an insect. he scoffs, twisting his shoe harder, making you choke on a sob, "is a little girl who thinks she's smarter than me."

"fuck you!" you sob, squirming on the ground, "let me go!"

"watch your language with me." he hisses back, narrowing his eyes. he glares before releasing a breathy chuckle, "you are the stupidest girl i have ever met. you were doing so well too. did you really think you could overpower me?"

"you hit me—" you sniffle, groaning in pain as you attempts to yank your hand back, "you hit me and you—"

he interrupts with a taunt, "maybe if you tried acting so smartly with your father, you wouldn't have had to run away from home."

you gasp before letting out another pained whimper, "how did you—"

"it's written on your face." he sighs, exasperated. like he's dealing with a toddler, not a girl who stabbed his leg. "if i let go of your hand, do you promise not to get hostile again?"

you glare at him silently through teary eyes.

"do i have your word?" he says louder, twisting his foot again.

"yes, yes—" you yelp, and with careful thought, he steps back. before you can make a move, he leans down to grab your hair and yanks you up. it makes you hiss in pain. he shoves you towards the couch.

"all this fighting has made me excited," he remarks with a chuckle, crowding you in. your eyes widen and you crawl away from him to the farthest end of the couch. he follows you like a predator, palming the front of his pants, and the realization of whats to follow makes you shake your head, "no- no, please, god—"

"shut the fuck up," he snaps strictly, voice eerily composed. he grabs your head, looks down at you with those black, empty eyes, his free hand carelessly unbuckling his belt. "you didn't think i'd let your little stunt go unpunished, did you?"

"you can do anything else—" you choke out, shaking her head. he yanks your face forward, makes your cheek press against the tent in his pants. you can smell him. you desperately try to latch onto any semblance of comfort you can find. "anything— anything but this, you can even slap me again—"

"hitting you is no fun if you're asking for it," he replies boredly, tugging your head back just enough so your teary eyes blink up at him pathetically. "i want to really rub it in this time. what happens when you mess with men like me."

you want to fight more— you wish you could. you desperately want to, but you feel frozen with shock. this day has turned into a nightmare you couldn't imagine even in the worst possible time. it's like everything you have done till now to avoid horrible, violent men, is laughing at your failure. you blink a few times, as if trying to wake yourself up.

"i've never done this before," your voice cracks as you voice your last attempt at begging for mercy— does he not have a heart?

he pauses and eyes you for a moment, and for a millisecond you think he'll reconsider. but then his mouth twitches, and your heart breaks as soon he pulls his pants down.

"even better."

A/N: this was more psychological and self indulgent that i expected, lol. i'm still not very well versed with smut, so i thought i might put this out before i try. feedback is always appreciated. i love him so much even though he's horrible. i guess that's what them father issues do.

[navybrat817]

Ficlet Friday?

A slightly buzzed Bucky just being the cutest or in love or both. Definitely a fluff-ficlet. Your choice on which Bucky 😉

I tried to make it fluffy, nonnie, but it does have a touch of angst. Sorry!

Pretty Girl

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: Over 700

Warnings: Tipsy Bucky, encouraging friends, slight angst

You were reading a book in the lounge when laughter rang out through the hall, a smile touching your lips. The guys decided to do a “boys' night out” and it sounded like they had a good time. Between being heroes and the trials and tribulations they all went through, they deserved it.

“Hey! Pretty girl!”

You didn't turn toward the sound of Bucky’s voice immediately as much as you wanted to. Glancing around, you were the only one in the lounge, so who was he talking to? It would mean everything for him to call you pretty, but you were just… you.

“Steeeeve. I don’t think she heard me,” Bucky loudly whispered.

“Then say it again with feeling,” Steve loudly whispered back.

“Got it.” Bucky sucked in breath which gave you enough time to cover your ears. “HEY! PRETTY GIRL!”

“Jesus Christ, I can hear you guys,” you confirmed, shutting your book. There went your quiet evening. “I guess stealth isn’t your strong suit tonight.”

You shrieked when Bucky suddenly sat beside you, casually throwing an arm over your shoulders. Okay, he was still stealthy, and he looked amazing in his jeans and henley. “There’s my pretty girl. I missed you,” he smiled.

“Um…” You looked around to find Steve, Thor, Sam, Joaquin, and Clint hovering by with expectant looks on their faces. You tried to come up with something witty, but all you said was, “What?”

Bucky chuckled, his cheeks a bit more pink than usual. “My pretty girl is adorable, isn’t she?” he said over his shoulder before looking at you with hearts in his eyes.

You leaned in to get a closer look at him, catching a small whiff of liquor mixed with his cologne. “You’re tipsy,” you said. How was that possible?

“No, I’m Bucky. And you’re pretty,” he smiled, the dreamy look still in his eyes. “Pretty eyes, pretty smile, pretty voice. Even your name’s pretty.”

As happy as you were to hear those things, even as your heart pounded, you looked to the guys for help because Bucky couldn’t be serious. “How?”

“My apologies,” Thor spoke even louder than usual. “I shared some of my Asgardian liquor with Barnes and Rogers and… Well-”

“Bucky hasn’t shut up about you,” Sam cut in, rolling his eyes. “‘My girl is the prettiest girl there is.’”

“‘Isn’t my girl brilliant? And so kind!’” Clint mocked.

“‘Her smile just lights up the room’,” Joaquin added.

“Guys, c’mon. It’s sweet,” Steve smiled before he said, “‘I’ll bet her kisses even taste pretty.’”

Heat filled your cheeks. Bucky didn’t deny a thing, so they were telling the truth, weren’t they? “But I’m not-”

The former Winter Soldier placed a hand on your cheek, drawing your attention back to him. “Don’t look at them, pretty girl. Look at me.”

You did, and it made you want to cry. Because you weren’t his girl. He was only saying these things because he was tipsy. “Okay. You had your fun, so why don’t you get some sleep?”

His smile fell away. “No,” he muttered, pulling you into his lap in the blink of an eye and putting his face in your neck. “I’m fine right here.”

His lips against your skin had you shivering, and it wasn’t possible to break from his hold. Being this close felt like a dream, but he was tipsy and you had to be the responsible one. “Um… a little help?” you asked.

“Of course.” Thor stepped forward. “Allow me.”

You smiled at the God of Thunder. “Thanks, I…” You stopped when he draped a blanket over you and Bucky. Where did that even come from? “That wasn’t what I-”

“And some water,” he smiled as Bucky nuzzled your neck with a happy moan. You tried not to let that moan turn you on. You had to be good. “Men, let us take our leave.”

“Behave, jerk,” Steve said as Thor shuffled everyone from the room.

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky snarled, nuzzling you again. The lights dimmed, too. It was almost romantic. “Not you, pretty girl. You can say whatever you want.”

You had to laugh. Laughter was better than worrying about what would happen in the morning. “So, I’m your pretty girl?”

“Yep,” he said with a smile. “All mine.”

“Okay, Sarge,” you smiled sadly. “I’m your pretty girl.”

Relaxing in his hold, you could pretend until he was sober that you were.

Love and thanks for participating in Ficlet Friday! ❤️ And this one may be fun to continue.

[luveline]

Just re-watched the prison Reid arc and whew! Can I request post prison Reid getting to meet his new baby for the first time with a civilian reader? Like he was arrested while reader was still pregnant and she gave birth right before he got out? Maybe have a Diana cameo cause I just love her🤭

ty for requesting! fem, 1.6k

“Do you want me to take him?” 

You give Diane a grateful smile. “Is that okay?” 

Diane is reedy like Spencer, tall and skinny, but strong, too. She treads the carpet in her moccasins and holds out her arms for the baby, shushing him softly as you pass him over. You’ve had to look after her these last few weeks in a way you weren’t prepared for, but she’s looked after you in turn.

She’s almost completely lucid today. The good news has its hooks in her. 

You look out of the window again. The baby coughs in Diane’s arms, a clearing sound after feeding. If she’s gentle with him he’ll fall asleep before Spencer gets home. You aren’t sure what to do, let him sleep or wake him. What would Spencer want? 

I want to come home, he’d said, choked up over the phone, so badly. I’m so sorry. 

“Are you sure you won’t call him Walter?” Diane asks. “Spencer likes that one.” 

“I’m sure, Diane. He liked Jasper, so…” You bite the tip of your tongue until it aches, refusing to cry again. “So I went with Jasper. I hope he doesn’t mind.” 

That morning when Emily told you he was coming home, you cried like you’ve never, ever cried. So hard that Jasper woke up in his cot across the room and cried with you. 

You’d cried a lot after Spencer was arrested, and worse when he was imprisoned. You cried like a baby the day you went into labour because you knew you’d have to do it alone, when Spencer promised he’d be there with you, that you wouldn’t have to do any of the scary parts alone. 

It didn’t take long to stop. You’d grabbed Jasper with your cheeks soaked in tears and rubbed his back, that small stretch of warmth under your hand like a lifeline. In a way, Jasper being Spencer’s has made this easier. You’ve had a part of him. It just wasn’t enough to get over missing him. Every bit of joy —you have a baby now, your beautiful boy— has been swiftly followed with an aching sort of grief. Spencer missed his first cry, first bath, the very first time he opened his eyes. You can’t go back. 

“They said three.” 

Diane doesn’t seem concerned. She’s missed Spencer as much as you have, and you know her worry for him has made her more poorly than she’d otherwise be most days, but the baby helps. “I’m gonna find his bear,” she says. 

You bend down, trying to see the corner of the street through the window. Then you remember the last time you left Diane alone in the kitchen and flinch. “Hey, Diane?” you call. 

She’s checking the drawers for the bear. You’re not sure why she thinks the bear would be there, but perhaps that’s where she put it. “Can I make you a cup of tea or something?” you ask her. 

“You’re spying on me.” 

“Spying implies you don’t know what I’m doing.” 

She pats the baby’s back. “I can see why you and Spencer get along.” 

It’s a little more than getting along. 

Diane finds Jasper’s bear atop the bread bin, sitting at the kitchen table with him, the bear sat across from him, though Jasper’s already sleeping again. 

You put the stovetop kettle on to boil and realise with a start that you can make Spencer a cup of tea at the same time. Your smile is unfailing, then. He really is coming home. The kettle begins whining while you recover his favourite mug from the cabinet, untouched the entire time he was gone. 

“How many sugars today, Diane?” you ask. 

“Was that the door?” 

“What?” You’re putting the mug down before you can compute. 

“Angel?” 

You feel a rush of emotion all over at the sound of his voice. You try to call back to him, but you don’t manage anything more than a catching gasp as you push out of the kitchen and find him at the door. Right there at the end of the hall. 

Pale, tall. Arms already opening, half a step as you run at him. He doesn’t complain when your chest knocks against his. He doesn’t say anything at all. 

“Hi,” you breathe, pressing your nose to his shoulder. Your eyes stay open —it’s like panic without the fear. He’s really here in your arms. 

He squeezes you tightly. So tight you can’t breathe for a second. Then he gentles, his hands rubbing up and down your back out of sync, face falling into yours. 

In the kitchen, Jasper makes a croaky crying sound, a stirring Diane calms immediately. 

You attempt to pull away. Spencer will want to see Jasper, of course. He hadn’t met his own son. It was all he could talk about for weeks before he went away, and yet—

Spencer just rubs your back. After another half a minute like that, he asks, “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah.” You clear your throat.

“Yeah? No one would tell me anything specific, I was worried you might not be alright.” 

“Everything went fine.” He holds you to his chest. He smells like cheap soap. “I didn’t– it was really okay. He was easy, like he knew I couldn’t handle any complications.” 

“And he–?”

You recognise the undercurrent in his voice. It’s the same thing you felt when they put Jasper on your chest for the first time. “He’s perfect.”

“All ten fingers?” 

You pull away. Immediately, Spencer’s taking your face into two hands, his eyes pouring into yours with an intensity that worries you. “He has all his fingers and toes,” you say quietly, “how about you? How’s your leg?” 

He doesn’t seem to be able to answer. Jasper makes another noise and Diane’s chair creaks. You turn with Spencer’s hand on your side, watching as Diane brings Jasper to the door. 

“Spencer,” Diane says, like she just saw him yesterday, “you’re late.” 

“Sorry, mom.” 

He always sounds younger when he talks to her. 

“Will you take the baby? I was just making some tea,” she says. 

Spencer nods but doesn’t move. 

“I’ll take him.” You kiss Spencer on the cheek. Remember you haven’t for weeks and kiss him again. “It’s okay.” 

You hold your arms out and take Jasper against your chest. Spencer takes a hesitant step forward, stops, hesitating, but when you turn to him with a comforting smile the band holding him back snaps. He crosses the room, breath pulled like he’d stopped as he cranes his head to see his baby. 

“Three weeks old today,” you say softly, tipping Jasper back so Spencer can see his face. “He missed his daddy, you know.” 

“You can’t know that.” 

“Of course I can. I’m his mom, Spencer… And who wouldn’t miss you?”

Spencer shakes his head gently, reaching out to caress Jasper’s full cheek. 

“Jasper,” Spencer says. 

“He’s been a great baby so far. Doesn’t give me much trouble. He cries all night, of course… but all babies do. He goes down after a while. I’ve–” You swallow the heat of missing Spencer like a barb dragging against the inside of your throat. “Told him you’re coming home. I told him every day, I promise.” 

“M’sorry,” he says, pained. 

“I know, Spence.” You nudge him. “Time to hold him, honey.” 

He’s more eager than you thought. It’s almost like he’s worried you won’t let him have the baby, but it’s like you told him on the phone: Spencer made a stupid mistake, and you still love him. He never should’ve been going back and forth like that, but you get why he did. Wouldn’t you want Jasper, one day, to care about you in the same way Spencer loves his mother? You forgave him the moment he apologised. 

“It’s alright,” you say, slotting Jasper from your arms to his, guiding his hand behind Jasper’s delicate neck. “Just hold him. He missed you.” 

Spencer sniffles. “I missed him too,” he says. 

“I know.” 

Diane realises eventually that Spencer being home is a big deal. It’s not her fault, not understanding, but the new baby, her relocation again, her nurse barely gone, and Spencer’s sudden homecoming, it’s probably too much to deal with. She finds you, Spencer, and Jasper on the couch in the living room and frowns at him heartily. “You won’t hug your own mother?” she asks.

“You’ll have to hug me around the baby,” he says, sorry. 

Diane agrees to this without fuss. She caresses his cheek as he’d done for Jasper as she pulls away. 

“Thank you for helping out, mom,” he says. 

“It was all Y/N, Spencer. You know mothers. We’re strong.” 

Spencer looks at Jasper, still sleeping, and then to you, a shade of adoring in his eyes you’ve never seen before. “I know,” he says. 

You curl into his side and take a breath. For the first time in weeks, you let your body relax, finding it sorer and angrier than you’d left it the last time you had the chance to check in. 

Spencer brings the side of your face to his lips to kiss your weary cheek. 

[thewritergx]

Lavender Rafe Cameron x F!Reader

Based off this

Just wanted to say a quick thank you for all the love recently <3

Summary: JJ’s younger sister can't help but fall deeper in love with Rafe. When an explosive fight between the boys breaks out, she is forced to make a choice, her brother or the man that has been sneaking into her room every night for months.

Warnings: Fighting, mentions of blood. SMUT Containing: Soft/Dom Rafe x F!Reader, Slightly Sunshine Reader, Kissing, Fingering, L-bombs, P in V, Creampie, Tiniest amount of anal play, Crying from Overstimulation, Spitting, Choking, Spanking, Praising, Breeding Kink, After Care. Pet Names: Baby, Princess, Good girl, Daddy (like a lot).

Word Count: 6K

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Please feel free to like and repost. Click here if you’d like more stories from me. Text divider from @cafekitsune.

The day had started out so pure, waking up in Rafe’s arms, the sun glittering through a crack in your window curtains. His arms gripped you tight, stirring you out of a deep sleep as he planted delicate kissing on your neck, sucking a faint pink spot just above your collarbone. Your eyes calmly fluttered open, sinking into his touch for more. 

“Good morning, princess”. Rafe cupped his hand around your chin, his fingers pushing back a strand of messy sleep hair, and attached his lips to yours. 

He didn't even care about your morning breath, skillfully pushing his tongue past your lips and engulfing you under his body. You are the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, he thought. Not even in a sexy, lustful type of way. In a way like you were a piece of art, handcrafted and sculpted, sitting on display in the museum of his mind.

Fuck, he needed every day to start out like this. 

The kiss wasn’t even supposed to lead to this. He just wanted to be close to you, but the way you breathed inaudible little moans into his neck and whispered his name so painfully smooth hexed him. 

A true siren, he thought. 

You wrapped your arms around the base of Rafe’s neck, fingers ghosting through his buzzed-cut hair. Rafe always thought himself a strong man, a protector, but your touch destroyed him, all the strength in him crashing down to a whining puddle of need. 

He looked so good like this, hovered over you and panting into your neck, cold metal rings on his fingers digging into the silky skin of your thighs. 

“Oh baby,” Rafe begged, his hips pressing into yours, the thin material of his boxers allowing him to feel the subtle arousal leaking on your panties.

That was it. He needed you. 

“Rafe,” you breathed so softly, biting the long sleeve of Rafe’s shirt you had slept in. 

“Yeah, princess?” Rafe reached for the line of your panties, spreading your legs as he pulled them to the side, perfect little pussy on display. 

“JJ’ll be home soon. He’s gonna see your car,” you mournfully groaned, staring up at Rafe’s parted lips and pleading eyes.

“We have time. I’ll be fast, promise.” Rafe pulled his boxers down, the chill air hitting his hard cock. “Need you now…please”.

You nodded your head in response, Rafe hands easily assassinating any thoughts of JJ coming home. 

“Ow”, you whined, watching as Rafe dipped a single digit inside you, hands fighting against the hem of your panties. “Rafey, please”. 

Fuck when you called him that…he was nothing but yours. 

“Gotta stretch you out a little, baby. Don't wanna hurt you.” Rafe’s eyebrows were focused, watching as your walls gushed around him, arousal soaking his finger. He hooked his finger, pressing right on that spot that drove you crazy, the rings on his hands hitting against your soft skin. 

“Cold”, you swallowed and Rafe hummed, gently removing his fingers and pulling his rings off, sitting them nonchalantly on your bedside table. He worked quick, sliding two fingers back inside you, relishing in the warmth of his skin. He could stay right here, like this, forever, if you would let him. 

He pumped his fingers in and out, swirling them inside you. 

God, he hated this. You should be coming around his fingers, in his mouth, and then around his fingers again before he even dared to think about putting his dick inside you. But he knew he didn't have time, and he cursed himself for not waking you up earlier. 

Fucking JJ was always ruining everything. 

If he wasn't such a mess right now, he would have taken you without any care, making you scream on his cock until the entire obx knew whose bitch you were. But Rafe fought to be gentle. Most of the time, it was so easy. You were so pure, he never felt the need to get rough, something he never experienced before. For most girls, he had no problem choking, slapping, or bending over and shoving his cock into them. But you were changing him, rewriting his DNA, and turning him into a whimpering mess. The worst part was, he fucking loved it.

Rafe’s hands grabbed at your sides and he worked fast, reaching for his wallet and pulling out a gold package. He opened it with his teeth, grabbing the condom and swiftly pulling it down his dick. Something else he wasn't used to doing before you. He never minded wearing them, as long as you were safe and comfortable. But sometimes he fucking dreamed of sliding in that sweet pussy, no barriers between the two of you, and painting your tight little walls until he was dripping out of you, filling you with his hot seed, and growing a baby. 

You picked your hips up some, wrapping your legs just above Rafe’s waist. He lined himself up against you, sliding the tip in so slowly he felt your walls open around him.

Your mouth hung open, soft coys falling from you like lava.

“That's it, baby”. It was torture, sinking inside you this slow, but Rafe knew you were still getting used to him and you needed more time to really open up for him, his finger not enough to truly warm you up. He sunk down, feeling himself hit the back of your pussy, a squelching sound vibrating around the room. 

“Oh!”, you cried, dragging your nails down Rafe’s back with a slight hiss. You didn’t know how he was able to do this but the heat in your body was already rising and you felt your pussy crying out for him, sucking him in further as he sat still, waiting and stretching you so much more than you had experienced before him. 

“Yes!”, you yelled, legs shaking and body writhing at his touch.

“You cumming already, princess?” Rafe chuckled, “haven’t even moved yet,” He couldn't help but smirk, dragging himself out completely and slamming himself back in.

You nodded your head, unable to speak as your back arched off the bed. You felt your cheeks grow hot, the coil in you ready to pop.

“Yeah?” Rafe smirked. “Cum on my dick, baby.” Pride filled him and your pussy leaked with arousal, like nectar from a wildflower. 

Rafe couldn’t get enough of it and before you had a chance to come down from your high, he slammed into you, ripping high-pitched cries from your throat. 

He knew you couldn’t be too loud, just in case. So he leaned down, taking his time to explore your mouth deep and sensual. Each movement of your lips is longing and tender like he had been away for years. His breaths are hot and come out as shaky gasps. He falls into the kiss, absorbing your moans and sucking your bottom lips.

His thrusts were faster now, hitting you with the perfect force to rip another orgasm through you, the lights in the room fading as you clenched your eyes shut.

“Fuck, that’s my sweet girl”. Rafe’s breath was hot on your neck “That’s my good little girl”. He dragged his warm hands up your shirt, massaging the velvety skin of your tits and lightly pinching a nipple between his fingers. 

And fuck, you knew JJ would be home at any second. It had been so hard keeping Rafe a secret, him sneaking in so quietly, having to wrap his hand around your mouth so you didn’t scream out, and fucking you on the floor so the bed didn’t smack against the wall. 

You clenched your walls around Rafe, bearing down your stomach to tighten around his cock. 

“Fuck, baby girl”. Rafe’s eyes rolled back, his forehead pressed against yours as you flexed your legs around his waist harder, sinking him in impossibly deeper. 

“Goddamn, yes”, Rafe hissed, sucking his teeth against his lips, jaw clenched tight.

“Fucking love you, baby”. His thrust grew faster, hitting you with more force. 

“God, I love you so much”, he growled, pressing his lips into yours as thick white ropes of cum shot out of him.

“Ahh, ow”. Your teeth clattered together, your body shaking as he pulled out of you, your chest rising and falling. “L-love y-you t-too,” 

God, he didn't want to leave. He stayed above you, peppering you with kisses again. He wanted more of you. But, he ripped his body off the bed, throwing the condom in the trash can next to your desk. Everything told him to stay, wrap his arms around you, and caress your skin until you fell asleep on him again. It felt dirty and wrong sneaking out of your window after you were just wrapped around his cock, crying for him. He wanted to take care of you, wanted to clean you up with his mouth, and wash your body in a steamy shower. He felt like a bad boyfriend, like a little bitch that didn't know how to treat his woman.

“I hate your brother,” Rafe frowned, throwing on a black hoodie and a pair of dark jeans. 

“I know,” you laughed, watching as he grabbed all his things. 

Rafe leaned down, your body still weak and crumbling, and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in and breathing your scent. Vanilla and coconut. 

“Love you, baby,” he groaned, forcing himself to open the window and snake his body through. 

An immediate sadness filled you, watching as he pulled out of the driveway. You sunk your body back into your bed, the loss of Rafe’s arm making you cold.

Thirty minutes had passed and you had just enough time to get dressed, hearing the sound of JJ knocking on the bedroom door. 

“Hungry?”, he asked, carrying in a bag from Heyward’s Seafood.

You sat up, legs slightly sore from your earlier activities. 

“God yes,” you smiled, scooting so JJ could sit next to you. He laughed, sitting two drinks down on your bedside table.

JJ's eyes fell on the silver round metal absentmindedly thrown on the table. “What the fuck is this?” 

Your heart pounded in your chest. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This was so bad. JJ had always been your protector, hovering over you like a bodyguard protecting celebrities from the paparazzi. 

“Whose fucking rings are these?” he scowled, a venom rising in his voice.

“Nobodies. Give them to me”, you yelped, trying to stop JJ from picking them up. 

You struggled for a moment and JJ snatched one from your hand quickly, silently inspecting the inside to see the name “Cameron” engraved on the inside.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me” JJ stood, running his hands through his blonde hair. 

“Please tell me Rafe Cameron was not in my fucking house.” JJ was fully yelling now, looking at you like you had just stabbed him in a vital organ.

You didn't know what to say and you swore you might have been having a heart attack, chest tightening, and the room spinning. 

“JJ, it's not what you think”. You followed as JJ stomped through the house, his fist in balls. 

“Not what I think?” JJ yelled again, throwing on a pair of shoes. “Did he fucking touch you? Are you okay?” JJ spiral, looking you up and down for any marks or scratches. 

His eyes twitched, his skin turning a ghostly white. “Is that a fucking hickey?” 

“It's not like that.” You yell back. “He loves me”.

“You think that psychopath loves you?” JJ laughed, grabbing his keys and slamming the screen door, a loud screech echoing throughout the home.

“He's not a psychopath”. You chased after him, unable to keep up with his fast pace. 

“Stop. Go back to the fucking house. I’m serious.” JJ practically screamed, his eyes dark and he swore he was seeing red hot blood. 

“Where are you going?” you screamed, watching as JJ climbed into the Twinkie, turning on the engine and speeding away. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

JJ didn’t even know where to go, but he promised himself, that the second he found Rafe, he was going to kill him.

After what seemed like an eternity, he found the Cameron boy, sitting at a table with friends. He locked his sights on Rafe, rage consuming him. He didn't care that the restaurant was crowded, didn't even care if he got arrested for assault. 

Rafe spotted him a mile away, the tires of the Twinkie screeching in the parking lot made JJ pretty obvious. He almost ignored the blonde boy, but he could see by the strides in JJ’s walk and his tense shoulders, something was off. 

“JJ, don’t do this man,” Rafe yelled, putting his hands up as a sign of protest. He had promised you that he wouldn't fight JJ again, and breaking a promise with you was something he didn't plan on doing today. 

Rafe stayed glued to his chair, even as JJ stomped toward him.

“Get up,” JJ shouted, the crow around them growing eerily quiet and still. “You think you can just come into my house and fuck my little sister like some slut?”

Rafe’s jaw clenched. He breathed calmly, trying to stop his body from the violence it was always quick to turn to. “What did you just fucking call her?” Rafe’s skin boiled. 

“She thinks you fucking love her” JJ laughed, throwing Rafe’s rings at him, hitting him in the arm.

“Dude, you need to back off before you start some shit you can't take back” Rafe looked around, standing from his chair and taking a step closer to JJ.

“Nah, I don't think I will” JJ was quick to throw a punch, landing it hard on Rafe’s eye. He stumbled back, body falling on the side of a table for balance. 

Rafe’s expression hardened, his jaw clenched tight, and fist locked into balls. As much as he wished he could, he wouldn't let that shit go. He regained his balance fast, and wrapped his arms around JJ, tackling him onto the ground with a loud ‘thud’.

The two boys thrashed around the floor, bodies struggling to pull each other off until Rafe finally pinned JJ down. He grabbed the collar of JJ’s shirt, blowing punches as JJ struggled under him, blood pooling at his lip. Rafe was careful, not using any real strength, but still causing some damage. The crowd gasped, and security rushed to pull the boys off of each other. 

“Don’t fucking come near her again or I swear to god I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking kill you”: JJ screamed, two men pulling him in the opposite direction.

Hours had passed and your phone was blowing up. You watched your screen flash over and over again, texts from Rafe, your friends, and even Topper. JJ finally came home, face covered in bruises and his eyes swollen. 

You knew your relationship with Rafe would have consequences but you didn’t expect them to be quite this severe.

“Baby, I’m sorry”, lit up on the screen, the simple short sentence enough to stop your anger in its tracks, like the flame of a candle quickly blown out. You knew you should text him back, but you wouldn’t give up that easily. You sat your phone down, silencing it for the next couple of hours while you lay in bed. 

You tried so hard to go to sleep, your mind racing and body aching. It was weird, ignoring Rafe. More texts had come through, Rafe telling you how much he loved you, that he was sorry, that he would make it up to you if you would just talk to him. 

As much as you wanted to stay mad, your body was starving for him. You knew he was probably feeling like shit.

You ripped your body from your mattress, threw on a sweatshirt, and quietly sneaked out the front door. The walk to Rafe’s house was a quiet one, the breeze softly flowing through your hair in the moonlight.

You found the huge house quick, praying that Rafe was still awake. 

You had been here before, but your heart pounded in your chest as you found Rafe's window, slowly pushing up on the glass. The room was dark and quiet except for the subtle breathing from Rafe.

“What are you doing?” He shot up in the dark, quickly turning on the light and grabbing your hand as you stepped inside the room. 

“I-I couldn't sleep,” you coyed, playing with your finger in your hands.

“Me either.” Rafe sat on his bed, quietly watching as you stood in front of him. “Come here,” he softly demanded, tapping his lap. 

You tried to get a sense of what he was thinking but he was so closed off in the moment, you couldn't figure out any of his emotions. 

Rafe positioned you on top of him, placing you around his left leg. “I’m sorry, baby.” His hands fell to your sides and you locked your arms around him.

“I know. It’s okay. Just needed to see you”. You pulled him closer, placing a kiss on his lips. You relaxed into him, a moan escaping you as he licked at your lips, swapping his salvia with yours in a heated dance. 

Rafe broke the kiss, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Missed me, huh? Didn't get enough earlier?” 

“Yeah,” you whined, watching Rafe’s hands travel to your thigh, rubbing smooth circles with his thumb on your sweatpants.

“I know baby, I know”. Rafe reached for your shoes, roughly pulling them off and throwing them in the corner of the room. He stood you up, pulling off your sweatpants and snaking his fingers down the hem of your panties, before repositioning you on his leg.

He planted kisses back on your neck, sucking hard and biting at your skin. Suddenly he realized he could make the marks as dark as he wanted, show everyone whose girl you were, who you belonged to. You wiggled under him, his bare skin pressing against your pussy.

You grined your hips softly, Rafe’s hands reaching to pull off your sweatshirt., “Mmh”, you withered, the smooth skin of Rafe’s thighs slick with your juices as you rubbed your clit against his tensing muscles. Rafe reached for your hips, pushing and pulling you so you rocked harder against him, the added pressure pushing your body down harder. 

“That’s a good girl. Ride my thigh.” You threw your head onto his shoulders, mouth falling open. 

“No, no.” Rafe grabbed your chin. “Let me watch you” He locked his eyes on yours.

“Why didn’t you answer my texts?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed and jaw tight, the vein in his neck noticeably swollen.

“R-Rafe,” You sighed, body hot. “I d-don’t k-know”.

“I’ve been good to you, right?” Rafe spoke, his voice emotionless and still, something you didn't recognize. He looked like a statue, eyes staring down at you as you wiggled in his lap, his hand coming to cup your chin, forcing you to stare up at him.

“Y-yes, you t-treat me…t-treat m-me so well”, you answered honestly, focusing on the dark bruise under his eye. You felt your pussy practicing dripping, a pool of your arousal on his thigh. 

“Yeah? You know I love you, baby?” he swiped his thumb over your mouth, pulling the plump skin of your bottom lip down slightly.

You nodded your head, breathing becoming stranded as your body tightened. 

“I do. I love you more than anything. But I think I need to teach you a lesson. I think you need to learn who's in charge here, huh?” Rafe dipped his thumb in your mouth, your soft tongue grazing the callous skin of his finger pads. 

“Fuck, Rafe!” You nodded your head again, your hips moving uncontrollably. You swirled your tongue around his thumb, sucking and lightly grazing your teeth over him. 

“That’s it. Cum for me baby” Rafe growled, watching the way your body moved so harshly against him. 

Rafe just stared, the boiling need he had been repressing for so long finally erupting. It was the side of him he had worked so hard to make sure you never saw. But at this moment, he didn't care. You were his, all his, and if you thought you could just ignore him all day, you had another thing coming. 

“Get on your knees.” 

You followed his instructions without a word, watching as Rafe pulled off his boxers.

Your blood ran cold, cheeks flustered and legs weak from the orgasm. He was so gorgeous, the tip of his cock a dark shade of pink and slightly curved up. 

You stared for a moment, trying to hype yourself up. Head was never your strong suit, and honestly, Rafe hardly asked for it. He stood like a rock, pumping his hard cock above you, your pretty eyes locked on him.

“Put your hands behind your back” Rafe stepped closer, grabbing at the ends of your hair and holding it in a make-shirt ponytail. You weren’t sure what to make of it, but you did as you were told, a hint of fear behind your eyes.

You nodded your head, and slowly put your hands behind your back, your knees digging into the carpet as you opened your mouth. Rafe rubbed his cock against your plump lips, precum shining on your lips as you lightly kissed the tip of his penis and licked the slit.

“Fuck,” Rafe groaned, his hands pushing tight in your hair as you wrapped your lips delicately around the head of his cock. His sounds set you on fire, confidence striking you. You bobbed your head deeper, taking him in smoothly.

“Tap my thigh twice if you need to,” His hands in your hair pushed you down until you were gagging around him and you fought to keep your throat relaxed. Your mouth was wide open, jaw painfully stretched as his cock hit the back of your throat with a vengeance, small tears forming in the corner of your eyes and tenderly falling down your cheek, Saliva filled your mouth, running down your chin and onto the base of Rafe’s cock. You had never, never done anything like this before. You tried to stay calm, keep your teeth away from Rafe's sensitive member.

“Fuck, Princess”, Rafe’s thrust were deep, the force causing you to gag and the sound echoing around the room. “Taking me so well. Didn’t even know you could fucking do this,” Rafe hissed between gritted teeth, pushing your shoulders so your mouth popped off his dick. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up. Rafe leaned into you, spitting into your mouth like a pro. His saliva was warm, filling your mouth and falling from your chin before he was wrapping you back around his cock. This time impossibly rougher and the tears continued to stream down, your throat threatening to close at any moment. 

“Get on the bed,” Rafe demanded, pulling you to your feet and pushing you so you landed with a soft thud. He dragged a hand from your neck to your breast. Your heart pounded in your chest, and something told you, you were meeting the Rafe that everyone had warned you about. Every nerve in your body was shot, and goosebumps tainted your skin.

“Don’t fucking move,” Rafe demands, hand gripping down on my stomach. You nod in silence and stay as still as possible as he brings his hands between your legs, forcing you to spread them apart.

“Think I need to give you a safeword. How about lavender”. He stood above you, eyes dark but a hint of sincerity behind them. 

“Okay,” you gasp, watching as Rafe shoves a finger inside you, with no warning. 

“Goddamn, look at that pretty cunt”, Rafe huffs, the air hitting your core as he spreads your lips apart. He presses against your soft walls with a devilish force, sending chills through your entire body “So messy already. Gonna let me leave you dripping?”

You whimper and nod your head in response, a need growing as he begins to apply more pressure to his movements. You feel your walls clench around his fingers, eager for him to open you up more. 

Rafe lets out a soft “Yeah, you are” and begins to pump his finger in and out sending a squelching arousal down your legs. You try your hardest to stay still and relax into his touch, but Rafe is quick to add a second finger, hooking them up to hit your g-spot relentlessly.  A look of complete focus covers Rafe’s face, his eyebrows furrowed and lips locked tight. 

“Fuck yes! Don’t stop.” Your cries grow louder and your hips develop an involuntary bucking motion, Rafe's fingers hitting you hard and rough. He was like an animal and you were the prey. He brought another hand to your clit, rubbing circles with his thumb and adding a sensation that sends you over the edge. “That’s it, cum on my fingers Princess,” he groans, fingers moving fast and rough. 

Your thighs hug his wrist, clenching together subconsciously.

“Fucking keep them open,” Rafe growls, his motions showing no signs of stopping or acknowledgment about the thick white creamy liquid coating the bottom of his fingers. 

“Fuck, Rafe. P-Please. Just need you inside me, please,” you whine, your legs already shaky and weak. 

“I’ll fuck you when I’m ready. Shut up and take my fingers,” he states emotionlessly like he’s completely unaffected by your pleas and cries for more.

“Ahh!” you bite my lip hard, his fingers too rough after the wave of pleasure that just washed over you. Rafe loses his mind at your dripping cunt, placing his mouth around your clit and sucking hard before flicking his tongue. 

“Oh my god, Daddy!” You didn't even process the name, didn’t even mean to say it.

Rafe growls, spitting on your clit and quickly devouring it again. “Good girl. This my fucking pussy?” Rafe mumbles, licking stripes between your folds. His fingers continue at an inhumane pace, sending shocks of pleasure too intense for you to handle. 

“Yes, daddy. It’s yours!" You practically scream. “God, I’m going to cum again. R-Rafe, please, t-too mu-much,” Your fingers dig into his hair, pulling at him aggressively. 

“You can take it. Cum on my mouth like a good girl.” Rafe growls, the demand in his tone rough and strong. His fingers leave a sloppy echo in the air, sounds of your wetness bouncing off the walls. You buck your hips into his mouth, wet thick arousal dripping down your legs and Rafe has to hold you down, his hand moving from your clit to apply rough pressure to your stomach. “God, you taste fucking amazing.” Rafe sits up, sliding his forearm behind your back, giving him easy access to pull you into another kiss, lips soft and plump against his. You taste yourself on him, sweet and salty. 

“Get on all fours,” he states plainly, helping you flip over. 

Rafe placed a hand on your back, spreading your legs a bit wider and pulling you back so your ass hung perfectly in the air. 

You arched your back more, feeling Rafe line up with your swollen pink lips. “Oh, fuck”, you cried as Rafe sunk inside in one quick motion, so deep his balls rested against your clit. 

“You okay?” 

“Y-yeah” You moaned, voice strained, and head deep in the pillow under you

“Doing so well for me. Such a sweet girl,” he whispered, slowly pulling out the tip of his cock, hands reaching to pull your hair back hard. 

“Thank you, daddy.” You cried, the feeling of him hitting your G-spot already causing your legs to shake around him. 

“Mmh, you’re welcome baby,” Rafe was a mess inside his own head, your warm pussy invading every crevice of his mind, but on the outside, he appeared collected and calm. 

He couldn't believe you were taking him like this, letting him do whatever the fuck he wanted to you. He felt himself get brave, pressing his thumb inside your puckered hole, the skin warm and tight around him. 

“Ow!” You screamed, trying to pull away from him. 

“Stop fucking running. Arch that back baby,” Rafe growled, pulling your hair harder so you had to sit back on him. 

“Fuck, you like my thumb in your ass? Dirty fucking slut, letting me ruin you, huh?” Rafe threw his head back, pumping into you on a mission, his hips slapping against you hard. Rafe brought his hand down, landing on your ass with an echoing ‘slap’. A bright red hand print already started to form, your skin stinging. 

“Ahh! Ow,” cried, unable to keep the tears from spilling out any longer. 

Rafe felt a sting of guilt and he couldn't exactly tell if your cries were from pain or pleasure.

“Do you need to say the safe word, baby girl?” He slowed his thrust, his voice softening 

“No, Daddy, God! D-Don’t stop, please. Please don't stop, daddy.” You couldn't help it and you bucked your hips back, bouncing your ass against him and loud claps ringing in your ears.

“Such a good fucking slut, taking me like this. Bet you wouldn’t care if I came inside you, huh? Have you falling asleep with my cum dripping out of you?” Rafe’s thrust grew impossibly harder, hitting the back of your pussy like he hated you, like he wanted to hurt you.

You nodded your head, the sounds of your wetness filling your ears. You have never been this wet before. “Yes! Please”, you cried, feeling another orgasm threatening to spill out of you. Your thoughts were so clouded you didn't even realize Rafe was fucking you raw. 

“Oh fuck, really?” Rafe smirked, grabbing your hands so he could put them behind your back, his hips fucking you completely into the mattress. “Gonna let me cum inside you, sweet girl?” 

You nodded your head, unable to speak with your head pressed into your pillow, orgasm hitting you hard. Arousal soaked so thick inside you Rafe had to pull his cock out, splashes of your juices landing on his stomach and dripping down. 

“Fuck, that’s a good girl. Squirt on daddy's cock”. Rafe slammed back inside you, immediately continuing his torturous pace, dick slapping into you like a rock. 

“I’m sorry, daddy” You were completely fucked out, drunk on the stretch of your ass and pussy. You didn’t even know what you were saying, didn’t even process what was happening. “I’m so sorry I ignored you. Won't ever do it again.” You struggled to speak, your voice horse and rough. 

“I know, baby.” Rafe groaned, his breath heavy and strained, sweat dripping down his chest. “I know you're sorry.” Rafe placed a kiss on your shoulder, leaning down and gently pulling out of you. You moaned at the loss of him, chest panting. 

“Turn over,” Rafe hovered over you, hooking his arms around your legs and pulling them over his shoulders.

He leaned down, grabbing the base of his cock and lining himself up to your entrance. His eyes locked on yours as he pressed himself back inside you, lips crashing against yours in a hungry passion, teeth clashing together. 

His hands caress over your body as if he's memorizing every inch of you, his previous roughness replaced by a tender touch, leaning down to place gentle kisses on your tits. His mouth latches onto you, sucking gently and swirling his tongue around your swollen bud, teasing and playing. 

“So fucking soft and sweet,” Rafe moans, using a hand to massage your other nipple. His fingers move delicately, pinching and pulling at it softly. You try not to squirm too much under him, but your hips move involuntarily, his body weight holding down as he thrusts softly inside you.

“Harder,” you moaned, needing him to completely wreck you. 

“Yeah? Need it deeper?” Rafe chuckled, picking himself up off his hands and slamming into you, matching his earlier speed. “Think you can handle more of this?” 

“Fuck, Rafe!” your walls clenching so tight around him, the muscles in your stomach and chest were sore, as he pumped in and out. Rafe’s hand traveled up to your throat squeezing with a deadly force as wetness dripped out of you. 

Your legs shook, back arching off the bed as your vision went black, air escaping you. You dug your nails into Rafe’s back, scratching bright red lines down him until he was hissing in pain. “T-too m-much,” you breathed out, voice strained by the tight fingers wrapped around you. 

Rafe reluctantly let go, his hands traveling down to your waist. “Fuck, baby. So fucking tight,” “Stay right there. Just like that.” Rafe growled, his thrust becoming obviously uneven, just as hard but messy and uncalculated. His fingers dug into your skin as he bit his lip, dropping his head into your neck.

“Love you, baby,” he whispered, painting the inside of your walls with his cum. Fuck, no one had ever come inside you before. 

“God, Rafe,” You shuddered at the feeling of his cum dripping out of you as he slowly pulled out. Your body shook violently, the feeling of his cock deep in your cunt still attacking your mind. He stayed motionless before you, placing a light kiss on your cheek, and carefully rolling you over. He placed your head on his chest, wrapping his arms tight around you before pulling the blankets over you. 

“You okay?” Rafe mumbled, all out of breath and exhausted. “Did I hurt you?” his tone was lined with fear, his fingers trembling as he lightly caressed your arm.

You were still gasping at his touch, tears slowly falling down your cheek. “N-No, f-felt so g-good,” you cried, trying to breathe through the orgasms that still echoed on your skin. 

“I’m sorry about JJ. I just, I couldn't let him talk about you like that” Rafe fluttered his eyes open, kissing your forehead. 

“It’s, i-it’s o-okay,” you whispered, unable to move or react much to Rafe’s words.

Rafe whispered soft shh's, his mind racing as you cried into him. Fuck, this was why he never did this. He was so scared, scared he hurt you or pressured you, or did anything you wouldn’t like. You were always a mess after you had sex, but something looked broken in you right now. Rafe pulled you tighter against him and you gasped with every movement, the fear building inside him until he was just as much of a mess as you were. 

“Baby, please. Just calm down, just breathe. You’re okay, I got you.” Rafe didn't know if he was really saying it to you or himself, and he felt his own tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He swore an hour had passed before you had finally stopped shaking, your legs only slightly trembling, and your breathing finally at a normal rate. 

“I’m good, Rafe. I promise. It was just…a lot” you mumbled, cheeks all flustered and voice shy. He held you until you were asleep in his arms, too afraid to move you like you were a piece of glass that might break. 

You were so sore the next day, you didn't want to walk. Bright pink hickies lined your skin, and you were sure your throat was bruised. But you fucking loved it, loved that you would feel him for days. Loved that you could finally show him off.