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wileys-russo · 10 hours ago
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filling the void (9) II a.putellas
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part of the filling the void universe ft solstråle from @girlgenius1111 family line series filling the void (9) II a.putellas
you twirled a pen between your fingers as your gaze flickered downward, tapping your phone and rolling your eyes seeing another five minutes had passed without a text, solstråle now nearly fifteen minutes late and not any sort of explanation offered.
at first you’d wondered if maybe she got lost, but alexia had already told you that mapi had shown solstråle exactly where the library was. 
your sister herself had locked you in her car and refused to let you out today until you promised to be nice, after insisting on picking you up from work and dropping you off to your little study session to ‘save you a walk, which really you knew was just her way of ensuring you didn’t bail.
not that you had plans to, but you were starting to wonder if solstråle was.
alexia had at least followed through on her part of the study deal, and with some sly timing on your shopping trip inside her closet and olga keeping the blonde distracted during, you’d wound up with more than you were promised, much to alexia’s disdain once she noticed a couple of days later exactly what was missing.
having been raised right you were more than ready to be nice and attempt again to break through solstråle’s awkward interior as you arrived and made your way to the breakout room you’d booked. 
after filling mapi in on what happened at the game and how you were sure solstråle already disliked you, mapi was quick to assure it wasn’t you, ingrids sister was just…quiet. 
so trying to prepare best you could for what was in its entirety a new experience for you, you’d spent the morning sourcing some worksheets online and scouring your room for your old textbooks.
having given most of them away you at least still had a couple of basic ones from your final year of school, but you also just had no idea where the norwegian you’d be tutoring was even up to or what bar her spanish she specifically would want and need help with.
however now, still in your work scrubs with a hoodie tossed over the top and the beginning dull throb of an impending headache settling behind your eyes, your willingness and readiness to be so nice to the clearly time poor norwegian was wagering on paper thin.
tapping your nails against the desk you briefly considered leaving, a quick check showing the next bus you could take home was in five minutes and the stop was right outside, but just as you were preparing to pack up your things there was a knock on the door.
the taller brunette didn’t wait for you to say anything, the knock seeming more to let you know she’d arrived as she closed the door behind her and slumped down in the seat across from you, backpack dumped on the table and not a single word of conversation offered.
“llegas tarde.” you raised an eyebrow and stared her down as she looked right back at you blankly and your eyes rolled. “you are late.” you repeated in english, the norwegian shrugging and mumbling a quiet seemingly unbothered apology.
knowing that holding onto the anger simmering inside you would only make this even less productive you paused to calm yourself, twisting alba’s bracelet on your wrist and counting to five in your head before deciding to just start this all over fresh.
“um i do not really know where to start. do you have homework?” you guessed might be a decent starting point, the girl nodding wordlessly and moving to unzip her bag, pulling out a few loose worksheets as you cringed at the obvious disorganisation hidden within her backpack.
she slid the worksheets across the table as you flipped them around and scanned them, noting some were history and rest spanish language and literature. “do you have one you want to do more?” you questioned, solstråle only shrugging. “vale. or we could work on your spanish?” another silent shrug.
you could feel your patience being tested with each passing moment she remained quiet, trying to remind yourself over and over what mapi said about this taking some time, but this was rapidly seeming much more impossible than you were lead to originally believe.
“is there things you ah, struggle with? with spanish?” you questioned further, another shrug as you inhaled sharply and again counted to five in your head.
“bien. let us work through this then, I think I remember this case study.” you mumbled, scooting your chair around the table so the two of you could both read the worksheet right side up, not missing the way the older girl was fast to tense up and lean right away from you.
you tried not to be offended, subtly sniffing yourself and frowning when all you could smell was the perfume you’d spritzed yourself with, maybe it was too strong or she just had a sensitive sense of smell.
none the less taking your time you read through the first question, trying to speak slowly and clearly, well aware english was not either of your native languages. “did you bring the article?” you asked, checking the papers she’d put down and not able to find it in the small stack. 
“a yes or no would work.” you remanded when once more all you got was a shrug, followed by an eye roll and a hand shoved into the backpack.
“how do you even find the right paper in there?” you asked with a disturbed look, solstråle pausing to glare at you, mumbling something you didn’t understand and assumed was norwegian.
“here.” finally, a word, but you jumped with the force she slammed the paper down onto the desk with. 
“no, this is not it.” you scanned the first few sentences and shook your head. “well you have read it? why do you need it then?” the girl questioned bluntly and you were most taken aback by what was easily the longest sentence you’d heard leave her mouth.
“so we can answer these, because you will need quotes for these first three.” you managed to get out with a hardened jaw, flaring your nostrils as the brunette snatched the paper back and shoved it into her bag.
“solstråle. do you have the paper?” you asked firmly when a minute went by and she made no other move. once more, a muted shrug, and then you realised something you might have been overlooking.
“can you not read this? the spanish?” you asked a little more bluntly than intended, tired from a long day and what felt like a pointless exercise in patience, but it would seem you’d struck a nerve you hadn’t meant to with the taller girl none the less. 
“i can read spanish. i do not know what mapi told you but are you supposed to be helping me? because all you are doing is asking stupid questions. it has been thirty minutes and we have done nothing, this is a waste of time!” the norwegian scoffed as you stopped, sizing her up with narrowed eyes. 
“well you were late so i was already here for fifteen minutes doing nothing anyway, and i have been asking questions so i know what to help you with! but all i get is-” you pulled a face and aggressively shrugged your shoulders a few times clearly mocking the taller girl who gave you a glare. 
“alexia’s super little sister, everyone says you are so smart. can you not see i do not want your help? you want to be a doctor no? so go find someone who does!” solstråle grunted and now you were the one to scoff, pushing your chair back and shooting to your feet, rounding the table and collecting your things.
“eres un maldito idiota!” you spat, your temper well and truly unleashed now as all of your work to minimise the frustrations with the sullen girl across from you melted to nothing as your head was boiling.
“snobbete kjerring.” came the reply she knew you wouldn’t understand, your things all shoved into your bag now as you muttered angry rapid spanish under your breath, having reached the end of your rope you didn’t care if she understood you or not.
“you know i did this as a favour tonta. i have worked all day, i came right here after my shift on time. i have my own studies to do too because yes i want to be a nurse. i am smart and i know what i want to do with my life. maybe if you get your head out of your own ass engen, you might too! and you are right this is a waste of time, my time!” and with that you stormed out of the room, beelining for the bus stop and cursing every foul word you knew under the sun toward the girl you’d left behind.
~
if nobody knew you were in a mood from the way you ignored the family group chat trying to make weekend plans about alexia’s game and a barbeque and left everyone on read, it became glaringly obvious with the way the front door slammed after you as you stomped inside, alba glancing up from her phone as you dropped your bag on the table.
you threw open the refrigerator still muttering angrily under your breath and ignoring her greeting toward you, grabbing out a punnet of strawberries and swinging it harshly closed again. 
then without a word you snatched the unopened can of lemonade your sister had in her hand, flopping yourself down on the couch with a huff and another quiet angry grumble, angrily shoving a strawberry in your mouth with a scowl.
alba whistling under her breath spun around on the stool she was sat on, knowing you’d come from your study session and your current tense mood coupled with the fact you were home an hour earlier than expected was all she needed to know it clearly hadn’t gone well.
“lo que pasó?” she appeared in front of you, arms crossed and eyebrow raised as you took an aggressive sip of lemonade and shook your head.
“no quiero hablar de ello.” you grumbled, not looking at her and instead flicking through the recordings trying to find the latest episode of your favourite reality tv dating show.
“bien.” alba shrugged, taking a seat beside you and counting down in her head as you continued to button mash the poor remote in your hand. three, two, one…
“dios mío solstråle is such an asshole! first she was late without a reason or an apology, then she ignored me and refused to speak, then she would not tell me what the problem she wanted to study was? then all she did was-” once again you aggressively shrugged your shoulders up and down as your sister hid a smile behind her hand, the older girl for once not wanting to wind you up any further and knowing you needed to let this out as you rambled on and on.
“-she belongs in your class, your niños are smarter than she is at least they know how to speak and listen at the same time! imbécil estúpida. i am not doing that again! alexia can…well she can take a hike!” you decided with a snarl, alba now unable to hide the belt of laughter which left her mouth as you shot her a mean glare.
“where did you learn that saying? take a hike? qué significa eso?” your sister laughed as you rolled your eyes.
“one of your american rom coms?” alba mocked making quotations with her finger as you scowled and shoved her, admittedly having quite the fascination for seemingly silly english speaking love movies which was how you’d gotten much better at speaking and understanding it in the first place.
“do you want some advice hermanita?” alba asked after a few moments of tense silence as you shrugged, a slight snicker leaving your sisters mouth as you clocked the gesture would seem slightly hypocritical given your previous rant.
“no? vale! good luck saying no to ale after you stole half her closet diablillo.” alba held her hands up and walked away leaving you to stew in your anger a little while longer. 
though as you sat and thought and stewed, you realised some advice would not go to waste and of all people alba would probably be the most qualified to provide it.
so with a huff you stood to your feet, alba already hearing your footsteps head toward where she was sat out on the back deck soaking up the last few hours of sun before the door slid open and she glanced up.
“advise me por favor.” you sat down beside her and gestured for her to speak as your sister snatched the lemonade from your hand and took a mouthful, placing the can down out of reach and turning to face you properly.
“have you thought about how this feels for solstråle?” alba questioned at first though you could tell from her tone it was rhetorical and didn’t beg an answer.
“she is in a new country, learning a new language, at a new school, where everyone else is years and years and years ahead. then you come along when you are born here, you speak the language, you have finished school. you find things easy, but solstråle will not and maybe she also does not know what she actually needs help with fresa, only that she is struggling.” alba continued as you slowly nodded to show you were listening.
“now imagine if you had to move to norway, you had to learn norwegian but learn it mostly it in english, when spanish is your native language, and all from a girl who you don’t know with a weird accent who thinks she knows everything. then the entire plan is not even your idea but something you feel you need to do because your hermana suggested you need it, so you already go into it thinking your hermana thinks you cannot do it yourself.” alba spoke slowly as again you nodded, feeling your anger slowly melt away as the cogs of your brain ticked over.
“i do not think i know everything.” you grumbled with a huff, fixed with a look of disbelief as you rolled your eyes, maybe you could come across as a know it all sometimes. “you have a god complex fresita and it is alexia’s fault for always telling you that you are perfect.” alba quipped with a snort, silencing you with a raised eyebrow before she continued
“then this girl with a weird accent asks you lots of questions about norwegian but she asks you in english, that you probably do not know the answer to, and she has a short temper, a hot head, not much patience, and gives up after one time when she is not even trying her best. would you not be maybe a little bit frustrated? confused? embarrassed?” alba questioned again and now you knew she expected an answer as your body seemed to sag.
“sí, sería difícil, then i called her an idiota and just stormed off!” you exhaled heavily, things suddenly now a little more in perspective as you dragged your hands down your face. “está bien tonta, not everyone is built for teaching, especially not hot heads.” alba chuckled patting your knee as you peeked out from behind your hands giving her a look of annoyance.
“is there some advice coming soon puta?” “did you not hear what i just said about patience?”
“espere, mapi is calling me.” you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket, still on silent after the work day as you fished it out and clicked accept.
“hola mapi, i do not know what-” you started completely ready for the spaniard to start yelling at you but you were surprised at what followed next.
“fresa have you seen solstråle? her location cut off, she was supposed to already be home and she is not answering her phone. did you see her leave? did she drive?” mapi asked in a tone more serious than you think you’d ever heard, the edge of worry to her voice obvious as you frowned.
“no we finished up early, i did not see her leave i took the bus home about…two hours ago?” you tried to guess, mapi thanking you bluntly and hanging up before you could even say another word.
you tried to brush it off, as a teenager yourself you often made excuses not to have to come home on time, and if you weren’t so scared about driving and had your license you were certain the freedom of a car would be tempting.
but as alba began to try and lay out how you would be better to tackle your next session, you couldn’t shake the weird pin prick of something sitting at the back of your head about the stony norwegian, and just maybe you were a little concerned about if she was okay, and that if god forbid something had happened, was it partially your fault?
~
"fresa valentina putellas segura!" you looked up from your phone and exhaled heavily, wincing at the use of your full name and glaring over your shoulder toward elena who shrugged and sent you a knowing smile, busy on a phone call as you heard the car door close.
"i could have gotten a lift home with elena mami." you mumbled, groaning as another car door shut and both your sisters scrambled out of the car, clearly bickering over something as they pushed and shoved one another in their haste to get over to where you were sat.
"elena is who called me! i had to find out from her that you were at the hospital? hablas en serio?" your mami huffed, smacking the back of your head as you pulled a face and rubbed it with a scowl.
"we should go and yell at the nurses for not calling you sooner mami, she is a baby!" alexia chimed in as she and alba arrived and you closed your eyes and sighed again, looking up to the sky as your face was warmed with sunshine, trying to drown out the three lectures which washed over you from the women stood fussing around you.
"we are not at the hospital, it is a medical centre and i am almost eighteen. once you are over sixteen you can make your own medical decisions, and i am fine." you reminded with another sigh, hearing footsteps and cracking an eye open to watch your mami march away from the bench you were sat on to go and talk to elena who was now off the phone.
"you are still a baby. venga alba, get her crutches." your eldest sister ordered as you sat up properly, sharply smacking the girls hands away as she hissed and narrowed her eyes at you in a glare.
"i can get them myself! i can walk without them but they would not let me leave unless i took them, la doctora era tan dramática." you grumbled in annoyance, only having mildly sprained your ankle and insistent that everyone was over reacting from the moment you fell.
it had been a harmless accident, however it had looked a lot worse than it was.
you'd just finished taking an elderly gentlemens vitals after you'd already collected his blood, the vials labelled and stored properly out back you'd been on your way back to the room to advise the gentlemen could leave, but you'd not been paying attention to the floor.
the clinic currently had a student on for work placement week, a meek and quiet fifteen year old boy who looked terrified anytime someone spoke to him, and with the way he went pale at the sight of blood it had you all wondering just who at his school he'd wronged to end up on placement here of all places.
it would seem he'd somehow dropped and smashed a few vials of someones blood after being asked to carry them back to the storeroom, and while he was busy stumbling through apologies to the nurse he was assigned to shadow for the day, elena, he'd not made any sort of effort to clean up.
so without a warning sign of any kind at least you hadn't looked down to see what you were hurrying toward and before you could blink you'd slipped over with a loud thump and you were covered in someone else’s blood.
of course without knowing the context of what happened the moment your coworkers appeared there had been all sorts of chaos that followed, everyone checking you for wounds and cuts as patients were hurried back into the collection rooms and nobody listened to the student trying to stammer out what had actually happened.
none the less you'd managed to land awkwardly on your ankle and not able to put much pressure on it your boss mateo had insisted you go get it x-rayed to rule it out of being anything serious, shutting down your protests with a firm look and ordering elena to drive you.
so thankfully with spare scrubs always handy you'd been able to change, not able to think of much worse than sitting at the medical centre covered in blood and the looks that would attract when you explained the issue was only your ankle.
you'd managed to charm your way out of anyone at work calling your mami, assuring she would be busy at her own job with her phone in her locker, and you'd just call one of your sisters once you knew what was wrong not wanting to panic anyone without a need.
however elena knowing you all too well knew you'd try to keep this to yourself and as you were being x-rayed it seemed she had slyly called eli to inform her of what had happened. which of course in your family may as well have been a bat signal for everyone to panic and over-react, exactly what you'd wanted to avoid in the first place.
"put your arms around my neck pequeña." alexia instructed as you gave her a look of disbelief. "alexia. eres sordo? i said i can walk myself!" you huffed, trying to stand up as alba pushed you back down onto the bench, snatching your crutches and she was off toward the car.
"cuídate chica, i will let mateo know what happened and i am sure he will give you the rest of the week off to recover. after all we have the student to help out!" elena appeared and squeezed your shoulder, grinning at the glare you gave her as she winked and hurried away to her own car before you could say a word, eli calling out another thank you as she did.
"and you will be taking the time off fresa." your mami’s gaze shifted to you and warned sharply as you groaned, already over all of the fussing yet you knew it had barely begun.
"estoy bien! i can work in reception and sit at the front desk, do admin and stay off my ankle and-" you tried to argue, falling silent at the fierce looks sent your way both by eli and alexia, crossing your arms and scowling.
"sí, me tomaré tiempo libre." you begrudgingly agreed with a sigh, eli nodding happily before she hurried off into the medical centre ignoring your yells after her that you already had everything you needed.
"derecha hermanita, arms around my neck." alexia repeated herself expectantly as she leaned down a little closer and once more you scoffed. "i can walk! aléjate de mí." you growled, trying to stand and grunting as again you were pushed back down.
"alexia!" "you are not walking to the car." "vale, i will sleep on this bench then." you puffed out stubbornly with a shake of your head.
"deja de ser idiota! you can put your arms around my neck and i will carry you, or i will pick you up over my shoulder como un bebé pequeño." your sister threatened seriously and judging by the look on her face you knew she was far from joking.
so mumbling about how embarrassing this was you did as she requested, knowing the alternative was worse, alexias arms wrapping around you as you were picked up and off the bench, were grateful there weren't many people around to see this as your sister carried you fireman style to the car.
"esto es ridículo." you muttered bitterly, alexia going as far as to do your seat belt up for you as alba sat in the front and your mami reappeared, a copy of your x-ray and some other papers in hand as alexia sat in the passenger seat fussing over you and you squeezed your eyes closed.
this was going to be far more painful than your ankle was.
~
"por el amor de dios it is a sprain! a mild sprain! not a break, or a fracture, or a-" but your protests fell on deaf ears as alexia lowered you down onto the sofa and ignored you, chattering away to alba about everything they assumed you needed.
you’d already had to fight them off not to shower and dress you like a child when you’d returned home, both girls settling for hovering right outside the bathroom door like guard dogs.
with eli’s help you utilised the shower chair she’d refused to touch throughout her own recovery to take the pressure off your ankle, sighing in relief as you’d washed the days events off of you.
"elevate and ice!" your mami called out from the kitchen where she was already prepping things for lunch, alba tossing alexia an ice pack, a tea towel already slung over your eldest sisters shoulder as your jaw clenched.
you hissed as alexia grabbed your ankle, lifting your leg to slide a pillow beneath and giving you a look. "mild?" she scoffed as you glared and grumbled something under your breath about how even mild sprains hurt when someones nails dig into them.
"mild, read the papers tonta! mami has about four copies." you muttered with a roll of your eyes, wincing as alexia wrapped a tea towel around your ankle to secure the ice pack to it, apologising quietly as she adjusted your ankle to sit comfortably on the pillow it was propped on.
“this is like when diablillo broke her toe.” alba chuckled at the memory, alexia trying to hide a wince as your eyes locked in on her and narrowed into a glare. “and whose fault was that?”
eli had been enjoying a couple of hours of peace, alba not yet home from school, alexia at training and a much younger you dead asleep in bed after a psychology appointment, pulled out of school at lunch time to attend.
to try and take your mind off of the contents of the appointment, which given you were five years old and learning what grief was in the wake of your papi’s passing were always emotionally taxing, eli had taken you grocery shopping.
big mistake.
you’d always been a very confident, outgoing and sure of yourself child, having to be in order to keep up with your big loud family and especially your strong willed sisters. so it was no surprise that the moment eli pulled out her list you were taking it off of her and charging away.
but you weren’t good at following the list so nearly every second thing you tossed into the cart, your mami took out and put back, sighing at your protests and attempts to rationalise the purchase, list taken out of your possession and an agreement made if you wouldn’t sit in the cart you had to have a hand on it at all times.
but the other part of that agreement, granted you stuck to it which was becoming increasingly hard given everything you wanted was just out of reach with how eli strategically parked the cart in each aisle, was that at the end of it you could choose something as a reward.
your mami already knew what your choice would be so it was no surprise when finally as everything was ticked off the list and you were given the green light you raced right to the produce section, eli lifting you up onto her hip so you could properly survey the punnets and punnets of strawberries in front of you.
however when almost twenty minutes later when you still hadn’t made a choice your mami was starting to lose patience, gently trying to hurry you along as she watched you carefully survey each and every strawberry with narrowed eyes.
finally, one was chosen, and it had seemed the grocery trip coupled with your appointment earlier in the afternoon had wiped you out, falling asleep in the car on the way home as your mami slowly woke you, hand in hers and leading you to your bedroom where you crashed out right on top of the covers, red tightly in hand.
but now a couple of hours later it seemed eli’s peace was about to end as alba came tearing in the door, chattering away on her phone and your mami’s eyes rolled watching her once neatly organised kitchen become anything but as your hormone filled teenage sister piled a plate high with some post school fuel.
alexia was next, flying through the door and bringing jenni with her of course, their chattering filling the house as alba spoke louder in return on the phone, retreating to her room with a slam of her door as the noise jolted you awake.
your mami shook her head, watching your sister and her girlfriend rummage through the refrigerator just as alba had done moments ago, the once fully stocked shelves already beginning to clear out in just a matter of a few minutes.
everyone greeting eli the woman was grateful she was still able to sit and read her book, both your sisters old enough not to need her attention the way you did, but moving to the living room and with her head buried in literature she missed alexia grab out your specially selected strawberries.
however it was the very first thing you noticed as you tiredly padded into the kitchen, rubbing your eyes and blinking to try and clear them of sleep, jenni noticing you first with a grin and bending down to open her arms for a hug. you were more than ready to wander into them however before you could take another step alexia bit into a strawberry and you gasped, suddenly wide awake.
“ale those are mine! volver a ponerlos!” you demanded angrily, stomping on over as your sister chuckled and shook her head, jenni standing again with a defeated sigh that you’d rejected her hug.
“you do not own all the fresones in this house monstruito.” alexia grinned, biting into another one just to wind you up as you huffed and glared up at her, she was always at her most annoying after she’d trained and was full of endorphins as your mami tried to explain to you.
“i own those! they are mine i bought them today at the market with mami!” you tried to explain, attempting to climb up onto the counter to grab them but your little feet wouldn’t grip onto the stone walls of the counter as you watched on uselessly as now jenni took a bite.
“oh do you want one?” alexia smirked, one hand pressed to your forehead holding you off as she held a strawberry down to you but just out of reach, grinning as you reached for it with frustrated little grunts.
alexia nodded for jenni to tip out the rest of the punnet into a small bowl on the counter, grabbing the seemingly empty container they’d once been in and letting you go, putting what appeared to be the last strawberry into her mouth with a content sigh.
“aquí monstruito.” your sister handed you the empty container as your jaw dropped and you looked up at her in disbelief, a smug smile on the older girls face as jenni nudged her in the back that maybe this was taking the teasing a little too far.
letting out a war cry you charged at her but alexia already anticipated the attack, easily holding you off again with a hand covering your face, words muffled against her palm as your arms swung trying to connect with any part of her body.
but when that didn’t work you resorted to plan b, winding your leg up and kicking at her as hard as you could, your foot bouncing off of her bare shin and you felt something crack, stopping your movement all together as alexia’s grin was wiped away watching your face pale.
“hey hey hey hermanita-” but right as she squatted down to try and check in you let out a blood curdling scream, falling to the ground and holding your foot as suddenly the kitchen was full of people, everyone fussing over you as you pushed both of your sisters away, only accepting eli’s arms which scooped you up and sat you on the counter.
“no! te odio!” you screamed at alexia who tried to move in to hug you, the eighteen year old flinching away as if she’d been burned, alba moving in instead as you pushed your face into her stomach and gripped her school shirt in your hands as eli ever so gently moved your leg, dodging the way it kicked out in reflex.
“oh mi nena, i think you might have broken your big toe.”
safe to say your sisters both learned a very valuable lesson about how far to take things when pushing you around and teasing you that day, alexia especially.
"do you not have anything else better to do than fuss and annoy me capitana?" you grumbled sarcastically, eyes rolling yet again as your sister fluffed and prepped the cushions behind your back now, karate chopping them making you snicker with slight amusement at the concentration on her face as she did so.
"tiene razón mija, look at the time you should go, you have that meeting!" eli called out in agreement as alexia hummed. "and don't you have niños to dumb down?" you leaned back and looked up at your middle sister who was stood behind the couches, a brush and tie in hand as she grabbed your hair and started to scrape it up into a bun despite the fact your arms were fine and you could easily do it yourself.
"alba!" you yelped as the flat side of the brush smacked against your forehead. "don't hit her puta she's hurt!" alexia reached over and shoved the younger girl who rolled her eyes and tilted your head back to kiss your forehead in a silent apology as you made an indignant huff and jerked away from her.
"student free day." alexia explained on alba's behalf, seemingly satisfied with how she'd smacked and poked the cushions into order behind you, and you had to admit you were quite comfortable.
"if you need anything you tell mami or alba, do not get up!" your sister warned sternly, giving you the firm captains look you knew struck fear into her teammates but did nothing much for you as you raised your eyebrows in acknowledgement.
"fresa valentina-" "bien i will not move! váyase and stop with the middle name." you groaned shooing your hands for her to leave. "te quiero, do not do anything stupid!" she warned shoving your head to the side as you mocked her under your breath.
"more like anything else stupid." alba chimed in from the kitchen, your middle finger popping up at her as your mami clicked her tongue in disapproval.
"what?" you sighed as still alexia stayed standing in front of you expectantly. "i am not saying it back." you turned on the tv with a shrug, browsing for what to watch as your sister huffed and finally moved out of the way.
overhearing alexia tell eli that she and olga would be back for dinner you groaned, knowing everyone would be fussing over you despite the fact you were fine.
“can olga come and you stay home? your home.” you suggested, your mami clicking her tongue again with a huff as now alexia flipped you off making you grin and return the gesture. 
“dibujar!” alba cried out as she joined in, now all three of you using both your hands to flip one another off with matching grins as eli sighed, having flashbacks to when you were all much younger.
“basta de esto! I raised you three better than this.” your mami smacked a wooden spoon against the counter as all three of you flinched at the memories which came with the sound and immediately dropped your hands as the shorter women nodded, quite pleased that still worked as alexia yelled another goodbye and finally made her way out.
~
“elena you are not taking me to my bedroom, i’m fine.” you huffed a couple days later, your sisters and mami both having been hovering relentlessly all week which was more than starting to grate on you, not even allowed to go and have some peace and quiet in your own room, banished to the sofa like a prisoner all day everyday where someone could have eyes on you at all times.
you knew your mami was perhaps getting the most from this, and though she would never admit it you could tell that after so long of her being the one who was being fussed over and watched like a hawk it was both a relief and a joy for that attention to be diverted elsewhere. 
a bonus that it so happened to be you, the one who was perhaps most guilty of fussing over her since she left hospital given you were the last of your sisters still living at home.
“let me just help you walk there, since you refuse to use the crutches.” elena rolled her eyes, nodding at the crutches in her hand which indeed you’d not touched, insistent that you could walk albeit with a small limp.
it had taken a lot of begging and pleading but with it being one of your friends birthdays you’d been invited out to dinner with them, eli eventually agreeing you could go so long as you promised to let her know when you were on your way back.
you’d done that, sending her a text message as you left the restaurant with elena, but when you hadn’t heard back and given it was nearly eleven thirty at night, you assumed she’d likely fallen asleep.
“because I do not need them, and I do not need help!” you huffed, elena giving up with a sigh and carefully placing your crutches just inside by the front door, hugging you goodbye with a teasing donkey noise, everyone having teased you were ‘stubborn as an ass’ all night as you bit back a smile and gave her a sarcastic wave goodbye.
closing the door after her you exhaled in relief as with your mami seemingly asleep and your sisters at their own homes you finally had a moment of peace to yourself without someone asking if you needed anything, fixing a cushion, getting more ice, checking the swelling.
but still, despite the peace nature called and with a sigh you started to hobble your way to the bathroom, the swelling having gone down but the ankle itself still quite tender despite the fact it could bare a lot more weight now. 
your eyes flickered momentarily toward the crutches sitting abandoned just an arms length away, knowing really you should use them as it would make this whole process a lot faster. however your friends weren’t wrong you were stubborn, and determined to prove even just to yourself that this was only a mild sprain and you were getting better you began an arduous journey toward the bathroom.
you were doing okay at first, grabbing onto things and allowing your body to lean on your dominant foot, able to get all the way to the bathroom all on your own, sitting down on the toilet with a relieved exhale.
but it was getting up that suddenly the situation drastically changed.
when you’d showered earlier you’d left your wet towel on the ground, nothing unusual as given it was only you and eli living here now and she had her own bathroom there was no one to complain about it.
however too focused on hobbling over to the sink you’d failed to notice, and if anything this whole week had just been one huge life lesson to learn to look down a little more often, and with a blink you felt yourself slip, head hitting the ground and back thumping against the tile floor.
but all you were focused on was the way you felt your ankle go snap, pain shooting up your leg as if it was on fire as you groaned loudly, trying to sit up but grunting and collapsing back to the ground.
“mami? mami? mami!” you tried to yell out through gritted teeth, calling out a few more times and groaning as the pain worsened and the room began to spin a little. feeling something digging into your hip you managed to pull your phone out with a hiss, yelling out again for eli but not hearing anything.
so knowing really there wasn’t anything else you could do you clicked on the contact for the one person you thought might answer if you called. 
your heartbeat sounding in your ears and vision a little blurred you hesitated, flashbacks of all the calls you’d made to her where she hadn’t answered, stomach churning with a mix of nausea, worry and rejection, questioning if maybe you were wrong and she wouldn’t answer, leaving you alone again.
but eventually the pain won out and you clicked call, sighing with a grimace as the dial tone sounded once, twice, three times, four times and- 
“hola? pequeña? estás bien?” “ale? por favour por favor i need help, hermana i need you!”
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rafesbangs · 10 hours ago
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౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ rafe putting brat!lamb!reader in her place after she makes him leave golf for the millionth time
warnings: MDNI ! 18+ ! dom!rafe (duh), mean!rafe ? kinda, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, use of a vibrator, use of the nicknames 'baby' and 'rafey', multiple orgasms, overstimulation, language, basically zero plot just smut. wc: 2.1k
a/n: i swear i'll start writing more, i currently have like 5 other fics all either just started or halfway through writing but ill finish them and start posting moreeee also this is my longest fic as of rn and its entirely smut lmfao
you always got your way, and today was no different. rafe and you had been at the country club all day and the instant you got bored of watching your boyfriend and his friends play golf, you whined until rafe obliged and you hopped in his mercedes to head home.
you sat in his car with your arms crossed, the wind whipped your white mini skirt and hair every which way but you ignored it. you were waiting for rafe to apologise for subjecting you to such boredom.
but he wasn't having it either. you always had to stop a game of golf just as it was getting good, but he never disobeyed you, he loved you. he also loved drinking beer and playing golf with his friends though, so today he had enough.
he sat there in the driver's seat, firm expression on his face as he drove the two of you back to his condo, one of his gloved hands firmly gripping the steering wheel.
you glanced at the veins bulging out of his forearm as he vigurously steered the car but reminded yourself that he didn't deserve anything fun tonight for putting you through another several hour golf session with no one and nothing to entertain you.
as soon as rafe pulled up to his condo he hopped out and slammed his door shut. you could tell he was really angry now too, but what did he have to be mad for? you were out there for hours upon hours before you'd even began to tell him you wanted to leave.
he rounded the car to the passenger's side and swung the door open. "inside, now." he said gruffly, not even looking at you. his head turned towards the front door. you narrowed your eyes at him, arms still crossed as you sat there, irritated.
"get out of the fucking car brat" he calmly, but sternly said. your jaw weakened and you opened your mouth, only to snap it shut again when he looked at you with his piercing gaze.
you grabbed your little purse and stepped out of the car, stepping out of the way before rafe also slammed your door shut. he didn't bother to wait for you, just stalked into his place leaving you to trudge across the gravel driveway in your kitten heels after him.
you were still irked, for sure, but now rafe was angry. the two of you always made the impression that you had him at your knees, you'd say something and he would listen without question. topper and kelce often laughed at him, calling him 'pussy whipped' and he'd roll his eyes, telling them if they had pussy as good they'd be the same way. he never had a bad word to say about you.
however, behind closed doors... specifically his bedroom door, he was in charge. he could tell you to drop to your knees as he fucked with his belt and you'd have your eyes wide and tongue ready. as soon as the two of you were in his house, you turned into whatever he wanted you to be, tonight was no different.
you closed the front door behind you and turned around to find rafe standing there with his arms crossed, same stern look still on his face. you tilted your head down, attempting to give him the puppydog eyes so he wouldn't be so mad, you hated upsetting him.
he walked over to the couch without a word and sat down, the fireplace crackled in front of him sending a spark of light to illuminate the living room a little more, all of the other lights were off. you took your shoes off and placed your bag down.
"come here." he said before deeply breathing in and out. you walked over to the living room and stood in front of him as he sat there, looking up at you with pursed lips. "yes rafey...?" you said quietly.
"sit" he curtly said, and you immediately obeyed, sitting right on his lap. you swallowed the lump in your throat slowly, looking into his mean blue eyes.
his gloved hand connected with your throat harshly, "you think you can just interrupt my golf games like that, every fuckin' time?" he breathed. you whimpered a little, not because he was scaring you in any way but simply because you could feel his bulge under you rising and he knew how his strong arm around your throat turned you on.
his grip softened a little so you could talk, "i just missed you rafey... i got bored-" you protested, your voice quiet. his other hand quickly grabbed at your hip, squeezing roughly even through the glove.
"you bitched 'nd whined n'front of my friends for the last time baby," he pulled your face closer to his until he was breathing at your neck and he lowered his voice, "you can't be doing that shit, hm?"
you nodded vigorously, one of your manicured hands now gently grabbing the hand that is connected to your throat.
"good" he smiled sinisterly, "but baby, m'gonna have to teach you a lesson yeah? i can't just let that shit slide."
"i'm sorry rafey..." you whimpered, his bulge was twitching right under your now soaked panties, the mini skirt left absolutely no fabric in between.
he pulled your face even closer so your lips were almost touching, "i know, you'll show me how sorry you are" he whispered with a grin before releasing your throat and moving your thigh so you were now straddling him. he swiped his fingers under your skirt against your wet pussy and scoffed with a grin, "fuuck, you wanna be punished don't you? you're already so wet and all i did was tell you off"
you looked away to the side brazenly, nearly rolling your eyes because you both knew that rafe knew exactly what he was doing.
"ay, what was that hmm?" he snapped, grabbing your chin, forcing your gaze to focus on him. he adjusted himself underneath you like it was nothing, pushing his ranging boner into your wet cunt even more.
you squirmed a little at the feeling, "your hand on my throat? and we both know i can feel your dick..." you declared with a little sigh. one of his eyebrows raised slightly and he cocked his head to the side before ripping his gloves from his hands, all while holding your gaze on him.
"mmm, i know you like being punished," he reached his hand up to cup the side of your face gently, "and you love it when i punish you with my dick. so please baby, don't act all mad."
you nervously licked your lips, feeling yourself grow wetter and wetter on top of him, you knew he could feel it too. it would be a miracle if there wasn't a huge wet patch on his pants where your pussy met his dick by now. his hands rested on your hips now, "good girl."
without a word he flipped you over onto your back with a grin, one hand holding you at your waist while the other was already pulling the wet fabric to the side and rubbing your slit slowly.
"rafe.." you said, breathless, you didn't think you could handle being teased for any longer now. he just grinned as he kept torturing your clit and began palming at your tits, your hips starting to buck while he kept going before finally plunging two fingers deep into your pussy.
you whined in pleasure as he pumped them in and out, his pace growing faster and faster while you just got increasingly wetter. he was getting painfully hard at the sweet sound your wet pussy was making as he fingered you. "ugh fuck, rafe please-" you moaned, all he did was smile in satisfaction at how he was making his girl feel.
he finally relented and pulled his fingers from your sopping cunt, but then brought a tie from the floor and grabbed your wrists, tying them together above your head. "punishment's not done baby, i'm still angry with you..." he said lowly, looking at how wet he made you as you dripped down onto the leather couch.
he then reached for the floor again and brought out a vibrator with a smirk. your eyes went wide and you tried to sit up, but he just pushed you back down onto the couch again. "i just want your dick, please rafey" you begged but he just shook his head, still smiling as he switched it on and brought it down to your clit.
you immediately yelped at the sensation and couldn't help but become a moaning mess. rafe was having fun, stroking it up and down your wet folds as he torturously fucked you with a single finger, slowly.
"f-fuck you," you moaned, writhing against his finger and the vibrator, going through possibly your forth or fifth orgasm. rafe just continued to play with your pussy, now using his tongue on you which only made you lose your mind more. he was moving the vibrator across your nipples now, eating you out sloppily like a man starved.
"i hate you, oh god... rafe stop! please" you groaned, your entire body twitching. you had lost count of how many times this man had made you cum at this point, you'd actually lost all sense of thought. he just sat there, still simulating you.
a pornographic moan easily bounced off the walls and rafe grinned up at you proudly, pleasepleasepleaseimsorryitwonthappenagain" you beg, tears pecking at your eyes from the overstimulation. rafe just shook his head, watching you cum on his fingers again, "what're you talkin' about baby? you can clearly keep going..."
"rafe! fuck- please just fuck me" you whined, your body tensing up, awaiting yet another orgasm when he finally tears the vibrator away from your swollen clit.
he scoffs at the sight of you, all fucked out and heaving, "okay." he unties your hands and pulls you to sit you up, you nearly go limp and fold over but he holds you up, cupping your face. you were stained with tears but he thought he'd never seen you look so sexy, in an instant his lips were connected with yours.
he was hungrily kissing you, finally pulling your bunched up clothes off of you and palming at every part of your body, just completely feeling you up which only made your pussy ache again. you pulled his shirt off of him and continued kissing him, now pushing his back down onto the couch as you devoured him under you.
his hands slid off of your body and onto his pants as he started pulling them off. now in his boxers you couldn't help but mischievously smile, straddling him as you continued to kiss him but rutting against his aching bulge. you thought he must be in so much pain, having been completely clothed and untouched for the entire duration of your punishment.
he groaned as you grinded against him and gripped at your hips so ferociously you knew you'd have bruises there in the morining, but you kept going. he parted from your lips and pulled his cock out of his boxers, the tip all red and swollen, leaking precum. you licked your lips as you measured his huge dick against your stomach, it very clearly going to the top of your belly button.
you wasted no time in lowering yourself onto him. the feeling of him slipping into your tight pussy nearly caused him to cum right there and then but he held back.
"holy fuck... holy fuck y/n." he breathed deep, furrowing his brows as he grunted with every minor move until he was entirely inside you to the hilt. you began rocking back and forth and his body was shaking from the amount of force it took to hold back cumming inside your tight pussy immediately.
you moaned as you moved, "so big, god, so so big."
"fuck- baby... ah shit, m'gonna cum-" he grunted, his grip on your hips tightening. you grinned mischievously as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to handle the pleasure. "cum inside me rafey" you whispered, leaning down in his ear. he immediately obeyed, thick hot ropes of cum filled your insides as you continued to rock back and forth. feeling his entire cock drained by your pussy made his head spin, he was moaning louder than he had before, breathing heavily.
you whined in pleasure as you rode him through your final orgasm as well, crumpling on top of him.
"good girl" he grinned, panting as he tucked stray hair behind your ear.
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zyafics-recs · 2 days ago
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reblogging comment review from @zyafics
i said i was gonna read when u edited and now u given me the signal 🫡 let's see if i'm ready to let go of pretty maybank and rafe <😭3 ⬇️
Some gave you that look—you know, the one that said, “Oh, sweetie, you again?”—while others just shook their heads, probably wondering when you would finally stop playing caretaker and start looking out for yourself.
maniacally scribbling down this sentence into my notes bc i am in love with how it flows?? i have a writer-crush on u bc of the way u string together words so elegantly
Brand new driver’s license, barely knew how to parallel park, and boom, you’re getting woken up at like 2 a.m. because your dad’s been arrested.
don't even know if im gonna to even talk about the story atp but one of my FAVORITE things about ur writing is how u add these little specific details that makes the characters come alive !!!
It wasn’t the first time you’d seen him wasted or bruised up, but this time felt different. This time, it hit you that this was gonna be your life now.
why did this line hit me so deep???
Now, sitting in the small, stuffy waiting room of the sheriff’s department, you glance around, feeling a knot of tension tightening in your stomach, the fluorescent lights doing little to help, making everything appear sterile and unforgiving.
love the word fluorescent lights, could never learn how to spell it without google
JJ’s next to you, his leg bouncing like he’s got caffeine running through his veins instead of blood. You’re already annoyed, and it doesn’t help that Rafe is sitting on your other side, looking just as pissed off.
THIS IS MAKING ME GIGGLE SO BADLY THE DYNAMIC TRIO
"You wanna talk about sisters too?"
the way i went—
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JJ nods, fiddling with his shark tooth necklace, the one you’d given him when he was seven.
u mesh so well with canon events 🩷🙂‍↕️
You glance at the two men beside you, each representing a different part of your world. Your brother stubs out his cigarette, glancing over at Rafe with an exaggerated sigh. He smirks, but it doesn't reach his eyes.
thought this man was gonna be nice and offer rafe a cigarette but i guess wer're not there yet
It’s been a month since the nightmare with your dad, and you’ve pretty much been living at Rafe’s new place ever since. Sure, you’ve got your own house, but it just doesn’t feel like home anymore. Rafe’s apartment though? It’s like your little safe haven now. You don’t officially live there, but who are you kidding? Most of your stuff is in his drawers, he’s stocked the bathroom with all your skincare, hair stuff, even a toothbrush. He tried to go all-out, buying you everything, and you kept telling him to stop, but it’s like talking to a wall. You gave up eventually.
so bf of him
“Anyways,” He rolls his eyes, ignoring the way you tried to cut him off, his hand now lightly squeezing your knee, “You were out there showing off, catching wave after wave. I was so fucking annoyed."
why is this so funny LOLL
“You know, it’s funny. Back then, I thought you were just this arrogant piece of shit who was always trying too hard to fit in.”“That’s so sweet.”
im literally gonna miss them sm 😭
Ward’s expression turns cold once more, but there’s a flicker of something—maybe regret, maybe just a reflection of his anger.
FEARRRR
“Let’s go home." You nod, a smile spreading across your face. “Yeah, let’s go home.”
such a cute ending <3
FINAL THOUGHTS • i literally am going to miss them so much, it was such an adventure to read this series (and despite how late it is), and with the new edits, i can just see how much you grown as a writer. it's glorious and im so happy to have been there for the ride! can't wait to read more of ur things and also, how the fuck do u write so fast? i blink and there's 15304 different rafe fics out by you??
THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - seven (finale)
request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛" + "def some little smut during the enemies part and a long story"
word count: 6.3k
warnings: last chapter <3
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You’ve been to Kildare County Sheriff’s Department way more times than you care to admit
Being the oldest kid in your family—and somehow the only actual adult—you lost count of how many times you had to drag your dad out of jail between the ages of sixteen and twenty. It felt like a full-time job.
Then there were the countless times you’d been there for your friends. 
JJ, for instance, had been taken in more than once for public disturbances. It was almost a given that he'd end up in that shithole whenever there was a party or some kind of trouble brewing. You knew every officer by name, and they knew you too. Some gave you that look—you know, the one that said, “Oh, sweetie, you again?”—while others just shook their heads, probably wondering when you would finally stop playing caretaker and start looking out for yourself.
But you always showed up, no matter what, because that’s what you did. You took care of your own.
The first time you had to pick up your dad, you were sixteen. Brand new driver’s license, barely knew how to parallel park, and boom, you’re getting woken up at like 2 a.m. because your dad’s been arrested. You were shaking the whole time, gripping the steering wheel like your life depended on it, eyes blurry with tears. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen him wasted or bruised up, but this time felt different. This time, it hit you that this was gonna be your life now.
You were stuck.
You remember pulling up to the station, parking all kinds of crooked because your hands wouldn’t stop trembling. You ran inside, still half-asleep, and the officer at the desk gave you this sad little smile. “He’s in the back,” he said, like you didn’t already know.
When you saw your dad slumped over, bruised, and barely awake, something inside you just... cracked. He looked up, and for a second, he recognized you. “Hey, kiddo,” he mumbled, still drunk, still out of it. Back then, there was still some part of him left, some shred of the man he used to be.
You signed the papers, helped him stumble to the car, and drove home in silence while he passed out in the passenger seat. It was the first of so many nights like that. And you knew it wasn’t gonna be the last. When you finally pulled into the driveway, you helped him inside and onto the couch. He mumbled a thank you before passing out, his snores filling the room.
Now, sitting in the small, stuffy waiting room of the sheriff’s department, you glance around, feeling a knot of tension tightening in your stomach, the fluorescent lights doing little to help, making everything appear sterile and unforgiving.
You wish you could be anywhere but here.
JJ’s next to you, his leg bouncing like he’s got caffeine running through his veins instead of blood. You’re already annoyed, and it doesn’t help that Rafe is sitting on your other side, looking just as pissed off.
“Will you stop bouncing your leg JJ?” You grit out, already irritated from waiting longer than an hour.
“Why the fuck did he have to come?” JJ mutters, throwing daggers at Rafe with his eyes.
“JJ, not now.” You put your hand on his arm, trying to keep him from starting something. The last thing you need is another fight.
JJ glares, but his jaw clenches shut. “This is so messed up,” he grumbles.
“Messed up is leaving your sister alone with your drunk piece of shit father.”
“Like I knew he was there, you dumbass?” JJ shoots back, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Maybe stop leaving her alone.”
“Oh, here we go,” you mutter, feeling the tension rise again. The last thing you need right now is for these two to start another fight.
Ever since JJ came back to the mainland only to pick you up from Taneyhill, things had been…tense. It was one thing to talk about you and Rafe, it was a completely different thing to see you together.
You know your brother hates every second of it. 
“Oh, but you wanna talk about drunk pieces of shit? How many times did your daddy bail you out?” 
Rafe’s eyes narrow, his fists clenching, “How many times did you make your sister bail you out, huh?”
"You wanna talk about sisters too?"
You shut your eyes, attempting to ignore the way they’re clawing each other’s throats out with tainted insults. It was a miracle they're standing in the same room without killing each other, but you can only take so much. It’s like they’re about to throw punches, right there in the middle of the sheriff’s office.
"Shut the fuck up Maybank."
“Fuck you, Cameron!” JJ snaps, standing up so fast his chair skids backward, “You think you’re better than us?”
Rafe stands up too, stepping closer to JJ, “Better than you? Yes.”
“Don’t act like you’re doing this for her,” JJ scoffs. “You’ve never helped anyone but yourself, you manipulative asshole.”
“That’s enough,” you snap, standing up and stepping between them, pushing them apart. Your voice is shaking with frustration. “You two are going to shut the fuck up or take this shit outside. It’s nine in the morning. I didn’t get a wink of sleep, and I’m not gonna sit here and hear you two bitch it you.”  
JJ glares at Rafe over your shoulder. “We don’t need this asshole’s help. We can handle it ourselves.”
Rafe sneers. “Handle it? Like you’ve handled everything else?”
Your brother lunges forward, but you push him back, your voice shaking. “Sit your ass down or leave, I’m not going to repeat myself.”
They both just stare at you, their harsh words still hanging in the air of this stuffy room. The tension is almost suffocating, but there's no way you’re letting them keep tearing each other apart. You’re exhausted, emotionally and physically drained. The last thing you need right now is to play mediator between them… again.
Rafe finally sits down, arms crossed, biting his tongue—for your sake, you know. JJ’s sitting too now, still fidgeting like he always does, tapping his fingers against the armrest.
"Look," you say, your voice still firm, "We're here for a reason. Let's just get through this and get out, okay?"
Your brother just grunts, glaring at the wall like it’s personally offended him. Rafe lets out a sigh and gives you the tiniest nod, like a reluctant “fine.” You sit back down, feeling a bit of the weight in your chest ease up. Rafe leans in and gently takes your hand, mouthing, "I’m sorry." You give it a little squeeze—apology accepted, for now.
JJ notices but looks away too quickly for you to read him. You know he’s pissed, but at least for the moment, he’s staying quiet.
The minutes crawl by, each one feeling like forever, and finally, a cop shows up at the door, calling your name. The three of you stand up at the same time, and Rafe and JJ follow behind you, silent but close, as you walk down the hallway.
The clanging of barred doors shutting behind you makes your stomach twist, and you eventually end up in a small interrogation room. The officer gestures to a chair, "Take a seat." He heads off to get paperwork, and you glance at Rafe, who’s watching you like he’s afraid you might disappear. You know he won’t relax until your dad is completely out of the picture.
Your brother, on the other hand, leans against the wall with crossed arms, a brooding expression on his face. He's always been protective, even if his way of showing it often led to clashes with others. You wish things could be different.
Officer Malcom comes back with a stack of papers, but before you can even look at them, Rafe’s lawyer, Mr. Johnson, walks in. Rafe's had him on speed dial since the whole mess started, and honestly, he's been a lifesaver. He sits beside you, reviewing the papers calmly, and just having him there makes everything feel a little less scary.
“Alright, folks, let's go through this step by step. The first form here is the petition for a temporary restraining order. It outlines the incidents and reasons for seeking protection.”
“Are these incidents documented with the sherrif’s office?” Mr. Johnson's expertise is evident in the way he examines the document meticulously.
“Yes, sir. We have reports dating back to—" Officer Malcom stops for a second, checking the data, “About eight years ago, give or take.”
Rafe’s head snaps in your direction, brows furrowed, clearly pissed off that this has been going on for that long without anyone doing anything. You try to ignore it, focusing on the papers in front of you instead.
“What happens after I file this?
“Once filed, a judge will review the petition. If approved, a temporary restraining order will be issued, usually effective immediately. Then, there'll be a hearing within a few weeks to determine if a permanent order is necessary.”
“What if he doesn't abide by the temporary order?” 
The officer only nods sympathetically. “Violating a restraining order is a criminal offense. He could face fines, jail time, or both.”
Rafe’s still looking at you, “Does she have to serve him personally with these papers?”
“It’s crucial that he’s officially notified. We handle that part, though.”
Rafe’s lawyer is taking notes when he speaks up again, “If he contests the order, he’ll have the opportunity to present his side at the hearing. Both parties can bring witnesses or evidence. But based on your father’s behavior, that’s unlikely.”
You hope to God he doesn’t. The thought of seeing him again makes you feel like you might throw up. You take a deep breath, hands itching to twirl a piece of your hair.
“How long does the process usually take?”
You feel a hand touch your shoulder, gently tightening the grip around the skin, you don’t have to look back to know it’s Rafe. By now you know the lines and the ridges of his hands as if they are your own.
"The timeline can vary, but typically, from filing to the hearing, it might take a few weeks. It depends on the court's schedule and any potential delays."
You nod, absorbing the information while trying to steady your breathing. None of this feels real. Not the legal stuff, not the fact that this could actually be over soon. As the conversation continues, Mr. Johnson outlines the next steps clearly, discussing what will happen during and after the hearing. 
The officer quickly gathers the papers in his hands, “I’ll get everything started then. Just a moment.”
As he leaves to process the paperwork, a brief silence settles over the room. You exchange glances with JJ and Rafe, both of them entirely too interested of the concrete floor. 
“This is the right thing to do, right?”
You know it is. You’ve known for years, but it’s still hard to understand how it came to this. Your life could’ve been so different. 
JJ nods, fiddling with his shark tooth necklace, the one you’d given him when he was seven. “Yeah. He shouldn’t be able to just...” He trails off shaking his head.
Rafe squeezes your shoulder once more, then lowers himself to your level and plants a quick peck on your temple, “You’ve got this. It’ll be okay.”
Mr. Johnson finally puts his pen away, turning to you, “I’ll stay on top of the filings and keep you updated on any developments.”
This moment is a culmination of years of struggle. It's daunting, but you’re not alone. 
 "Thank you.”
JJ shifts his weight, his agitation visible. "I hate this," he mutters. 
"I know," you reply, not knowing what else to say.
The door swings open again, and Officer Malcom re-enters, holding a stack of papers. "Alright," he says, handing you a pen. "Just sign here, and we'll get this process started."
You take the pen with shaky hands, knowing there’s no going back after this. As you sign your name, you can't help but sigh in relief.
This is a step towards freedom.
Rafe watches you intently, his eyes full of concern. He reaches out, placing a hand on your back, a little reminder that he's here for you. JJ stands close by, his protective instincts on high alert.
After you finish signing, Officer Malcom takes the papers and gives you a reassuring nod. "We'll take care of the rest. You should hear from us soon about the next steps."
You stand up, feeling a little lighter, but the emotional toll of the day still kicks your ass. As you make your way out of the room, Rafe keeps a steady hand on your back, guiding you.
Once outside, the morning sun feels almost blinding after the harsh fluorescent lights of the station. JJ immediately lights a cigarette, taking a long drag and exhaling with a sigh. 
Rafe looks at you, his expression softening. "You're good?"
You nod, managing a small smile. "Yeah, I think so. Thank you for being here, both of you."
JJ smirks, though there's a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Where else would I be?”
You glance at the two men beside you, each representing a different part of your world. Your brother stubs out his cigarette, glancing over at Rafe with an exaggerated sigh. He smirks, but it doesn't reach his eyes.
“Gotta admit, I never thought I'd see the day when 'Rafe the Retch' would be helping us out.”
A laugh escapes your lips before you can stop it, but you quickly cover it up, turning it into a cough. You’d forgotten about that one.
Rafe’s eyebrows shoot up. “'Rafe the Retch'? Seriously, what the fuck?”
“Ask her,” JJ nods in your direction.
“You called me that shit?”
You bite your lip, “To be fair, I called you worse things.”
Rfe tilts his head, hands on his hips, “Like what?”
“You don’t want to know.”
The three of you start walking toward the parking lot, as you reach the cars, JJ pulls you into a quick, tight hug. “We’re gonna get through this,” he murmurs, his voice filled with determination. 
You hug him back, “I know, Jay.”
Rafe stands a few feet away, watching the exchange with a thoughtful expression. When your brother finally lets you go, he steps closer, “Ready to go?”
JJ looks at you, the concern in his eyes clear. "I gotta head to work. Do you want a ride home? It's on the way.”
You glance at Rafe, then back at JJ, sensing his reluctance. “No but thank you.”
JJ’s shoulders tense, but he nods, trying to hide his disappointment. "Alright. Just... call me if you need anything, okay?"
You smile, appreciating his concern. "I will. Drive safe."
He nods again, glancing one more time at Rafe before getting into his truck and driving off. You watch him go, knowing that things are still far from being okay between the two of you.
You know he’s never going to change his opinion about Rafe, maybe not until he witnesses the changes in him, but you hope that one day they’ll find some common ground. It’s a lot to ask from your brother, you know that, and it’s why you never push him. 
“You sure you’re doing okay?”
You nod, leaning into Rafe now that he stands behind you, “Yeah, just a little tired.”
He wraps an arm around your shoulders, guiding you towards his car, “Did you get any sleep last night?”
"Barely," you admit. "Just couldn't stop thinking about today.”
He unlocks the car, opening the passenger door for you. "Well, now that it's done, you can rest. I’ll even put that bullshit show you like.”
You gasp ready to punch him in the shoulder, but by the time you turn he’s already on the other side of the car, “Love Island is not a stupid show!”
He chuckles as he starts the engine. "If you say so.”
“You watch it too.”
“Only because you force me to,” Rafe counters, a playful glint in his eyes.
It’s been a month since the nightmare with your dad, and you’ve pretty much been living at Rafe’s new place ever since. Sure, you’ve got your own house, but it just doesn’t feel like home anymore. Rafe’s apartment though? It’s like your little safe haven now. You don’t officially live there, but who are you kidding? Most of your stuff is in his drawers, he’s stocked the bathroom with all your skincare, hair stuff, even a toothbrush. He tried to go all-out, buying you everything, and you kept telling him to stop, but it’s like talking to a wall. You gave up eventually.
As he pulls out of the parking lot, his hand slides over to grab yours. It’s such a simple thing, but it makes the tight feeling in your chest ease a little. You’re both quiet for most of the drive, but it’s not awkward or anything. It’s actually kind of nice. You never imagined he’d be so...attached. Things between you are still...somewhat undefined, but it definitely feels like a relationship. That thought is pushed to the back of your mind for now. It's just not the right moment to talk about it—not with his father’s trial only weeks away and your own dad still recovering in the hospital.
When you pull up to his apartment, the building feels familiar in a way that makes your stomach flip. He hops out of the car and, as usual, rushes around to open your door for you. It’s such a small thing, but it always makes your heart race.
Once inside, the place feels so different from the craziness of the day. It’s cozy, warm, and just... safe. You kick off your shoes and flop onto the couch, sinking into the cushions.
“Wanna watch your show?” Rafe asks, giving you that half-smile you’ve come to love.
You chuckle, feeling lighter than you have all day. “And you say you don’t love it.”
He grabs the remote and turns on the TV, navigating to the show. As the familiar theme song starts playing, you snuggle closer to him, finding comfort in the routine. It's all trashy drama and ridiculous contestants, but it’s the distraction you desperately need. Rafe’s arm stays around you, like always. But as the episode progresses, your eyelids grow heavy. The events of the day, combined with the sleepless night, catch up to you. You feel yourself drifting off, your head resting against Rafe’s chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm lulling you to sleep.
“Rest, baby,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing whisper. “I’ve got you.”
Next thing you know, you wake up to the smell of something cooking. Blinking your eyes open, you realize Rafe’s in the kitchen, and the living room is dimly lit. A blanket slips off your shoulders as you sit up, and when you look over, he’s already smiling at you.
You’ve seen him smile more times over the past month than all the years you had “known” him combined. It looks good on him, makes him look younger. 
Stretching, you ask, “What’s all this?”
“Dinner. Figured you could use a good meal,” he says casually, like it’s no big deal that he’s cooked for you.
You sneak up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. “Look at you, Chef Rafe.”
Ever since he moved in on his own, he’s been slowly learning how to take care of himself. You’ve caught him watching cooking and deep cleaning videos more times you can count. You find it endearing. It makes your chest ache, in a good way, to watch him slowly turn into his own person, not the Rafe his father shaped him to be.
He chuckles, giving you a quick forehead kiss. “Eat before it gets cold.”
You sit down, and the first bite has you practically moaning. He snorts at your reaction, but you can tell he’s proud of himself. As you eat, though, you notice he seems a little off. His shoulders are tight, and there’s something in his eyes that makes you pause. You reach across the table, placing your hand over his.
"What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Rafe. What’s wrong?”
He hesitates, then sighs. “Got a call from my lawyer. About Ward.”
The mention of his dad sends a chill down your spine. “What about him?”
Rafe’s thumb brushes your knuckles as he looks down. “He wants to talk.”
“Do you want to talk to him?”
Rafe's jaw tightens, and he lets out a slow breath. “Yeah. But every time I’ve tried to stand up to him, it’s backfired."
You squeeze his hand, “He can’t hurt you anymore, you know that, right? You're not the same person you were before," you remind him gently. "You've grown so much, Rafe. You’ve made your own life."
He looks up at you, his gaze softening. The intensity in his eyes is clear—vulnerability, determination, and a deep-seated fear. It's as if he’s silently pleading for your reassurance, for the strength to face his demons.
“You think so?”
It's in the way his eyes become softer when they meet yours, the slight quiver in his lips, the way he holds your hand just a little tighter.
“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“Okay. I…I’ll think about it.”
The two of you finish dinner, the conversation shifting to lighter topic. After cleaning up, you find yourselves back on the couch, the TV playing quietly in the background. 
Everything feels so domestic it pulls at your heartstrings. And it hits you how much you love this, just being here with him.
But you can still feel the tension rolling off him. You turn to him, tracing little patterns on his chest. “You’re still worried, huh?”
He sighs, throwing his head against the cushions, his hand coming up to rest on yours. "Yeah. I’m scared talking to him will pull me back into that dark place.”
You press a kiss to his clothed chest. “You won’t go back there. Not while I’m here.”
He tightens his hold on you, “You know you’re too good for this world. It’s ridiculous.”
You narrow your eyes, “Am not.”
“Yeah, you are, Pretty Maybank.”
There it is. That nickname. “You know that’s so stupid, right?”
He grins, completely unbothered. “You love it.”
You nudge him with your elbow. “I tolerate it.”
He catches your hand, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. “Fits you perfectly.”
You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the grin tugging at your lips.
“If you say so.”
His eyes soften as he looks at you, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hand. “I do.”
“Shup up,” You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks. “Don’t even know how you came up with that shit.”
Rafe laughs, the sound low and rumbling, his hand moving to rub your leg.  “It’s really stupid.”
You raise an eyebrow, teasing. “’Course it is.”
“Remember when we were fourteen, and we were both at the beach for that huge surf competition? You were this cocky, skilled little girl with an ego bigger than the waves.”
“And you were a suck-up mother—"
“Anyways,” He rolls his eyes, ignoring the way you tried to cut him off, his hand now lightly squeezing your knee, “You were out there showing off, catching wave after wave. I was so fucking annoyed."
You raise an eyebrow, giving him a skeptical look. “Oh, so you were secretly in awe of me?”
“Maybe,” he admits with a sheepish grin. “Or maybe I was just bitter because you made me look bad.”
“I made everyone look bad.”
“Okay, Gabriel Medina. You were out there showing off, making everyone watch you like you owned the ocean. All the boys were ogling you, calling you pretty, and you were loving every second of it.”
You smirk, remembering the day. "I was pretty good, wasn’t I?”
“Good?” He snorts, shaking his head as his fingers trail up and down your thigh. “You were more than good, you were unreal.”
"Yeah, yeah, so how does that tie into the nickname?”
“You came out of the water, hair all messy, sand on your skin, but you had this huge smile. One of the boys called you 'Pretty Maybank,' and you just laughed, brushing it off. But I— I guess I remembered it. It fit you.”
You blink, momentarily thrown off, "I...I didn’t know you remembered that."
“You’re kinda hard to forget Maybank.”
Your heart flutters at his words, the sincerity in his voice making it hard to breathe, “Shut up.”
He leans in, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, his hand cradling the back of your head. It only lasts a few seconds, before you’re pulling away, mumbling against his lips.
 “You know, it’s funny. Back then, I thought you were just this arrogant piece of shit who was always trying too hard to fit in.”
“That’s so sweet.”
You cup his face, brushing your thumbs across his cheeks, “Hmm. You were always showing off, too.”
“Well,” he drawls, pulling you a little closer, his arms wrapping around your waist, “We both grew out of that phase. Mostly.”
“Mostly,” you agree with a grin. “But I guess some things never change.”
“Yeah,” He doesn't take his eyes off your face, “Some things don’t change. 
There’s a brief silence, filled with the quiet sound of the TV and the comfortable presence of each other. His fingers continue to trace patterns on your hand, and you can feel his earlier stress easing if only a little.
“I don’t want to mess this up,” He admits quietly, “With you.”
“We’ve come this far, haven’t we?”
Rafe’s fingers gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear, “Yeah, we have.”
“I’ll keep you in check, Cameron.”
He holds you tighter, his breath mingling with yours. “You're too good for me, y’know that?”
You laugh, “I know.”
Before you can react, his fingers are dancing across your sides, tickling you mercilessly. You squeal, wriggling and trying to escape his grasp, but he’s relentless.
"Rafe!” You gasp between fits of laughter.
"Say sorry,” he demands, his fingers still working their magic.
"Never!" you manage to choke out, tears of laughter streaming down your face.
He grins wickedly, the movement driving your tummy insane.
"Wrong answer."
You squirm in his grip, the tickling intensifying. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" you finally relent, breathless and giggling.
Rafe stops, his hands coming to rest on your waist. His grin is triumphant, but there's a softness in his eyes that makes your heart skip a beat. "That's what I thought," he muses, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.
You catch your breath, still smiling. "You know, for someone who's supposed to be a tough guy, you’re surprisingly good at this domestic stuff."
He chuckles, pulling you closer until you're nestled against him.
"What can I say? You bring out the best in me, Pretty Maybank."
"I like this," you admit softly. "Being here with you, just... us."
"Me too," Rafe murmurs, his hand gently stroking your hair. "Feels right, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, it does.”
⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ
Three weeks later, Rafe finally agrees to visit Ward in prison.
His lawyer arranged the meeting, emphasizing the importance of having this conversation to find closure. Despite your protests, Rafe insisted on doing this alone. Plus, prison's security measures are stringent, and there’s no way you could accompany him inside.
Instead, you’re stuck waiting outside, the anxiety killing you slowly. You're sitting on a bench outside the high-security prison, your foot tapping nervously against the ground.
The sun is blazing, making the wait even more unbearable. You wish you could be in there with him, supporting him. You glance at the ugly building, feeling desperate to get the hell away. Your phone buzzes, snapping you out of your thoughts. It’s a text from JJ.
"how's it going?"
You quickly type back.
"he just went in. kinda losing my mind out here."
"he’ll be okay. devil spawn and all yk".
"not helping???"
"my bad sis, just trying to lighten the mood. seriously though, he's got this."
You sigh, putting your phone down and glancing around the barren surroundings. The high walls and barbed wire of the prison seem to loom even larger now. Time drags on, every minute feels like an hour. You find yourself looking at the entrance every few seconds, hoping to see Rafe walk out.
Inside, Rafe is led through a maze of corridors, the echo of his footsteps bouncing off the cold concrete walls. The guards are stoic, their faces expressionless as they guide him to the visitation room. His heart pounds in his chest, but he forces himself to stay calm, to stay focused. He's going to be just fine.
When he finally walks in the room, he sees Ward already seated, the older man looking surprisingly composed. Of course he'd care about his appearance even when he's locked up. There's a glass partition between them, with phones on either side for communication. Rafe sits down, picking up the phone with a shaky hand. He wishes you were here. 
Ward's eyes are piercing as they lock onto Rafe's. "Look who finally decided to visit," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Took you time, boy."
Rafe takes a deep breath. This is it.
"Only came to tell you something."
Ward raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "Oh? And what's that? That you’re an ungrateful piece of shit?”
Ignore him, your voice echoes in his head. He knew Ward was going to try to get a rise out of him and he hates that it might work.
"I'm done," Rafe says, his voice steady. "You don't control me anymore."
“After everything I've done for you?"
Rafe's grip on the phone tightens. "You didn't do shit for me. You did it for yourself."
Ward leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "You have no idea what you're talking about, boy. You need me."
"No, I don't," Rafe retorts, “No one needs you.”
Ward's eyes flash with anger, but he quickly masks it with a calculating smile. "Is that what you really think, son? That you can just walk away from everything? From me?"
Rafe feels a rush of anger fighting it's way up his throat, but he holds it back, remembering your words. He takes another breath, steadying himself, “I don’t care.”
Ward's smile fades, replaced by a sneer. "You think you're so strong now, don't you? Do you think you can survive out there without my influence? The world is a cruel place, Rafe. You won't last a day. You think that Maybank trash is gonna solve all your problems, huh?”
“You’re not getting under my skin.”
Ward's eyes narrow further, and he leans in closer to the glass, his voice dropping to a whisper. "So, it’s about her now, is it? What makes you think she’ll be any better for you than I was? She doesn’t know you like I do."
Rafe’s temper flares, but he forces himself to stay calm. He can’t take the bait.
"Keep her out of this.”
“You think you’re so righteous, so superior. You’ll need more than just some girl to get you through.”
“I don’t need you,” Rafe insists, his voice firm. “I never did.” 
Ward’s expression turns cold once more, but there’s a flicker of something—maybe regret, maybe just a reflection of his anger. “You can pretend you’re free, but you know I’m not so easily forgotten.”
Rafe takes a deep breath, forcing himself to stay composed. “I don’t need to hear anything else from you. I’m done.”
“You won’t be able to keep her safe.”
He knew the conversation wouldn’t be longer than five minutes.
He stands up abruptly, the phone clattering against the partition as he drops it. He doesn't need to hear Ward any more. He turns his back on his father and walks out of the room, the door clanging shut behind him. As he walks back through the maze of corridors, his thoughts turn to you, knowing you’re outside overthinking and ready to hug the live out of him. 
He’s striding to you the moment he sees you. You're still on the bench, trying to distract yourself with your phone, but it’s no use. You jump up, rushing over to him. You’re always so endearing to him it pains him to know he hurt you so badly over the years.
“You okay?”
Rafe’s arms wrap around you, finally breathing normally. His breath is warm against your ear as he whispers, “Yeah. I’m okay.”
You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as if you can protect him from the Ward’s harshness. “I was going crazy waiting out here.”
“Sorry for making you wait,” Rafe murmurs, his voice muffled against your shoulder. 
“I don’t care,” You pull back slightly, your hands moving to cup his face. Your fingers trace the lines of his jaw, feeling the faint stubble beneath your touch, “You did what you needed to do. And I’m proud of you.”
He smiles a small, tired smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, “Needed to hear that. Thank you.”
You nod, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “For what?” you ask, leaning into him again. “You did great, baby. You stood up to him. That takes so much strength.”
You take his hand, your fingers intertwining with his as you lead him away from the prison. His grip is strong, his palm warm against yours. The two of you walk in silence for a moment, the only sound the gravel crunching beneath your feet. You glance at him, noting the way his shoulders have relaxed a litte.
“I felt it. Like a weight lifting off me. It’s not completely gone, but it’s lighter.”
You stop walking, turning to face him fully. Your free hand reaches up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. It had grown so much over the past few weeks. “And it’ll keep getting lighter,” you assure him. 
“You think?”
“I know. You’ll keep needing to stand up to him,” you acknowledge, “But it will get easier each time.”
His hand brushes a stray hair from your face, copying your earlier movement. “And you’ll be here with me?”
“Always.”
Rafe’s expression softens, the hard edges smoothed away by the promise in your words. He leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
His lips linger there.
“You really are too good for me,” he murmurs against your skin, the sound blending with the hum of the car engines in the distance.
“I know.”
He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. The intensity in his gaze takes your breath away, but it’s a different kind of intensity than you’re used to seeing in him. It’s softer, more open, and entirely focused on you.
“Let’s go home."
You nod, a smile spreading across your face. “Yeah, let’s go home.”
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planetpedri · 2 days ago
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Pau with a girlfriend who has a condition who makes her faint a lot? I feel like he’d be so attentive and caring
I can and I will — Pau Cubarsí.
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Pairing: Pau Cubarsí x Fem!Reader
Summary: Having extremely low blood pressure was the norm for you, but ever since you started dating Pau, he’d taken it more seriously than you had. And you loved him for it.
Word count: 700+
Disclaimer/s: Mentions of fainting , low blood pressure , accidents that’s happened from the condition , ect.
A/N: I didn’t want to write about something I couldn’t capture accurately buttt I used to have very low blood pressure and would faint because of it so I just went with this …
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Pau was very… attentive. He noticed the slightest wobble in your step, the way your eyes seemed to go dull, or when you’d heat up. He’d taken every precaution to assure you wouldn’t faint. He worried a lot, and you hated to make him stress so much.
It was a particularly hot summer day, so the two of you decided it was best to stay inside. Pau had set his bedroom in the specific way you liked, almost like a cocoon of pillows and blankets. You’d planned on binge watching the new season of your favorite show, but you’d forgotten one simple thing.
“Shit.” You grumble, turning to your boyfriend. “I need to go get water.”
Pau nods in understanding, concern flashing across his face. “You sure you wanna go get it? I don’t mind—“
“Pau, babe.” You groan, “i’m fine. Sit back, chill out.”
Sometimes his protectiveness agitated you. It made you feel like you couldn’t do anything, despite knowing he didn’t mean to make you feel that way. You knew your words may have hurt him, so you compensate by placing a quick and tender kiss to his lips.
Sliding your legs over the side of the bed, you stand. Too quick. Your vision zooms in and out, spotting all around. Great. You were too slow to sit back down, your knees giving out beneath you.
Before you could fall, you feel Pau’s arms wrap around your torso, successfully stopping your tumble. “I told you I should’ve..” He trails off with a grumble, pushing the hair from your face as you collect your breathing.
“Don’t rub it in.” You grumble, the nauseating feeling pooling in your stomach as you allow yourself to slump into his arms.
“Lay down, i’ll go get you water and some crackers.” Pau frowns, planting a kiss to your forehead. He did that a lot, you’d noticed it was his way of checking your temperature without being obvious. “And some ibuprofen.”
Weakly climbing back into your cocoon, you toss the fuzzy blanket aside to let your body cool down. Your eyes remain closed even when you hear Pau’s heavy footsteps coming closer.
“Sit up.” He urges quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed with a glass of ice water and medicine in his hands, and crackers tucked under his arm.
You do as told, rubbing your temples. “What would I do without you?”
“Hit your head on a sharp object? Oh wait, you actually have already done that before.” He quips, the corner of his lip twitching, causing you to roll your eyes.
“Ha ha.” You mumble, taking the water and pills gratefully. “Thank you.”
“Always.” He says, giving you a genuine, but short smile. Every time you fainted or came close to it, he felt his heart stop. Sometimes, he felt like he could faint from concern.
Once you take the pills and drink your water, you get comfortable again with Pau climbing onto the bed beside you. He pulls you half way onto his chest, pressing play on the TV.
While you munch away and regain your strength, Pau’s fingers play with your hair, tucking strands behind your ear and repeating the soothing motion. When you finally feel better, you glance up at him.
“I love you, y’know that, right?”
Pau tilts his head down to meet your gaze, a smile forming. “Of course I do. I love you, too.”
Your lips form a tight lipped, almost shameful, smile, “I feel bad, you shouldn’t have to baby me. I should’ve thought about this stuff before we got into bed.”
“Hey,” his eyebrows furrow, “you don’t always have to do things on your own. I’m your boyfriend, I love you, and If I can help, I will. Always.”
You couldn’t control yourself. You loved this boy more than anything in the world. Setting your half eaten bag of crackers aside, you roll on top of him, placing kisses all across his face. All the while, you murmur dozens of ‘I love you’s’.
Pau chuckles through your burst of affection, putting a stop to it only so his hands could cup your cheeks. He pulls your face to his lips, greeting yours in a long, warm kiss.
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likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any pau related posts.
DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby @unx100to !
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fairycosmos · 3 days ago
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Hello
Long time follower. Big fan.
Umm i dont have any "real" friends and i feel like i have to vent about what happened to me with someone so plz bare with me.
Yesterday I was sexually assaulted. Outside my own apartment building by a man that is an "aquaintance" at most. I managed to get away by stepping on his foot and elbowing him in the stomach before it went any further. What sucks even more is that I live in a super conservative middle eastern country that has a society that loves to victim blame. I cant even go to the police cuz i have no proof and the sad thing is this the THIRD time in my life of 30 years where i get sexually assaulted. The first time was my cousin when I was 13 and the second time was someone who was a close friend when i was in my 20s. I feel pathetic and cowardly for not speaking up every time it happened. I know I cant tell my family cuz they are religious and all they care about is my "chastity" whatever the fuck that is and i honestly dont know what to do anymore.
Thank you for listening
🪽
hey angel,
i’m so sorry it took me a minute to see this, and honestly, i'm just fkn enraged that you're even in this position to begin with. none of this should’ve ever happened to you, and it’s so beyond messed up that you’ve had to go through it, and more than once, on top of everything else. first, i just want to say that i’m so, so grateful to you for opening up about it, especially when you’re feeling so isolated. it takes so much courage to even put this into words, and i’m honored that you trust me with it at all tbh. as much of an eye roll it is to hear, you’re truly not alone in this. and you’re definitely not “pathetic” or “cowardly” for how things played out or for not feeling like you could speak up before. the way you’re feeling is real, valid, and so understandable—especially when support and safety feel so distant.
it’s beyond unfair to be in a place where victim-blaming is such a huge part of the culture. to have to carry that, while being made to feel like you have to hide this, is an awful weight. but please know, this is not on you—none of it. the guilt and shame that the world tries to put on you is not yours, even if sometimes that feels impossible to believe. grounding yourself in the truth—that you haven’t done anything wrong, no matter how often you have to remind yourself—can be a solid step. and if you believe that for other people who've been in your shoes, then you must believe it for yourself too. ultimately, the shame belongs to the people who assaulted you and a world that hasn’t supported you the way you deserve. please don’t let their actions shape how you see yourself. your survival, your resilience, your courage etc that’s who you are.
there are a few places that might be able to give you some support, even if it’s from a distance. rainn.org offers confidential chat options and resources, and while it’s u.s.-based, it could still be useful if you need a safe space to talk. another is pandora’s project, a support and forum site specifically for survivors. they have spaces where people from all backgrounds, including those with similar cultural challenges, can connect. <3
if you’re open to it, a counselor or therapist who specializes in trauma and works online might be a good option, too. there are so many who understand the importance of privacy and safety in environments where speaking out can be challenging. the International Association for Trauma Professionals has a directory that could help you find someone who’d really get where you’re coming from and respect those unique challenges.
just remember, it’s okay to take this one step at a time. if all you can do today is share this with someone who cares, or offer yourself some compassion and grace to cry and breathe and be pissed and hurt and numb and upset, then that’s more than enough. i believe in your right to feel safe, supported, and heard, and there are people who genuinely want to help you get there, however and whenever you need.
sending you so much love and strength <3 if you need to vent or if you just need someone to talk to, please msg me any time. i understand what it's like to have your boundaries violated too and i know how lonely and painful it is to contend with it in your own head. x
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sampirism · 2 days ago
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talkn bout my opinions on rook and varric and roleplay and feeling disconnected (roleplay in a game sense not the freaky sense. sorry) - SPOILERS FOR ENTIRE GAME, BEWARE. this post is WAY too long. sorry about that too.
it's very evident that bioware/EA wanted an action/adventure game first and an RPG second, but let me type at you.
i hate to say that i didn't feel particularly sad about varric's fate, due to the structure of the game. it is, in hindsight, completely obvious that he was not alive! i just hadn't been thinking about varric much at all the entire game because you have limited opportunity to talk to him in the infirmary or when he plops around barefoot when everyone decides to sit at a table and talk about how fucked we are. i genuinely forgot he was there otherwise.
he barely feels like a guy himself. because there's no personalized worldstate, any specific mentions to events or characters might be jarring to the player who may have made a different choice along the way.
no one talks about how sorry they are about varric because they CAN'T or the twist is completely revealed. even with another DA2 character in the game (who my hawke romanced. who is now dead in the fade. glad to see you're LIVING IT UP ISABELA!!! (I'm jk. a little.))
there's no response rook can say to condolences outside of "oh, thanks" without the game fully revealing its Twist, because "I'll tell him you said hi" and "he'll be up and walking in no time!" are only reasonable responses from a Mourn Watcher, and even then, should still cause your companions to be a little alarmed. the closest we get to this is the inquisitor making reference to lost friends, and rook visually registers it, but its swept under the rug and moved on from immediately.
(i know we're all mentally unwell in this lighthouse repressing our feelings but jesus christ)
despite spending two games with him and enjoying him as a character, I struggle with feeling much for his loss AS my rook, because i found there to be no meaningful connection between him and rook. i was only told i was supposed to have one.
the game wanted so badly get the ball rolling with an immediate threat, its at the expense of roleplay. you could argue that da2 and inq also started with Immediate Threats but you are also very limited in the choosing of your backstory in those games.
rook was deliberately designed to be more open-ended, with more similarity to origins, but still gave you a prequel where you felt what your life was before The World Began To End.
there's this conversation you can walk in on with lucanis and davrin, where they're talking about their worst jobs. there are three dialogue for rook I think and i can only remember two but they were "I don't want to talk about it" or "man I have the dreadwolf in my head". (I... honestly think the third option was very similar to the second one but I have a very bad memory. sorry)
i played a mourn watcher mage. i had to have done some messed up spirit stuff. some bone shenanigans. not able to mention my Down With Nobles rebellion at all. i halfway expected it to be revealed that my rook was just like a shitty pawn (haha) and actually all her memories are fake and not real. but obviously you meet people from your shared backstory and they do know OF you but they don't really know you
in mass effect 1, there were some unique missions related to both the backstory and psychological profile you picked for shepard. they were short, and nothing happens like that in 2+3 that i remember, but they are unique to your character and are something at least.
no one really asks you much more about yourself! mourn watcher rook is literally Found In The Crypts as an Infant, an incredible mystery that you have to fill in the blanks yourself, which could be something someone wants-- but i personally like my characters a little more predefined in a game such as dragon age. vague history worked for me in games like skyrim and fallout new vegas, even baldurs gate! but makes me feel wholly disconnected from the story and group here.
there was a fair amount of dialogue choices for mourn watcher, especially with Emmrich-- talking with emmrich was one of the few times my rook felt like A Person-- but there were other times that my companions seemed to think emmrich was the only necromancer/watcher on the team. (i even specialized in death caller!)
by containing all the dialogue with companions to ! markers and outings, it's weird to be unable to have any conversations without being able to provide personal insight, whereas some NPCs in inquisition actively asked you about your past.
its particularly noticeable because of lucanis, whom my rook romanced. the dude has a lot to say about nevarran culture and the necropolis and such, and we can have zero conversations on the matter lol.
maybe this is like, really a mourn watcher thing? maybe it feels better as a crow or a warden. but if you offer me the choice to be a freak crawling around in a tomb. i am going to be.
TLDR: i really feel that a prequel mission, a recruitment by varric then a timeskip, a personal quest tied to the consequences of your backstory, something, anything, to make rook feel like an actual part of the world, was a necessity and sincerely a missed opportunity. if you actually read this far, thanks!
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dennisboobs · 1 year ago
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my favourite thing about the always sunny podcast is listening to rcg all say something extremely neurodivergent and then agree amongst themselves and convince themselves its completely normal
#and to be clear im not diagnosing them charlie said he wasn't neurotypical#like deadass i think. the reason some of their writers just completely botch the gang's motivations/dialogue sometimes is bc at their core#these characters are all. SO autistic. which inevitably leads to them being misunderstood by others outside their group#whether rcg realizes it or not they inject this very specific vibe of neurodivergence into the gang#and its why they will just. argue over inconsequential details bc they Need to be understood completely#they can't just drop it unless they are crystal fucking clear#imo the biggest mistake other writers make is thinking that the gang is completely desensitized when its more like#they just don't react the way you would expect#which is often... adjacent to that but still distinct. and its trauma that influences this as well#the gang does not believe they themselves are 'bad people'. theyre most often oblivious to the fact that the things they do are insane#rob saying he doesnt pick up on social cues and then going on to argue in circles with glenn#i dont think last week was anything crazy but i think. rob doesn't know when to let up. which is a problem that *i* have#and while it comes across as being confrontational in an 'im right youre wrong' way i dont think its driven by ego here#just like with how as they said mac and dennis are making up while chucking bread rolls at each other#on both sides its frustration at being misunderstood#but they are all similar enough that even if they disagree over small details theyre usually on the same page. and this can be beneficial!!#thats the conclusion of the ep!!!! whether its suggesting smoking to cancel out the toxic apple skin or suggesting words u cant think of#glenn said he was upset about feeling misrepresented and picked on#dennis gets angry for those exact reasons in.... ALL of his big rage scenes#its frustration that leads to anger because youre speaking to (another) brick wall and you can't adequately explain yourself#which. glenn is clearly more competent than dennis & i think a lot of the time in sunny the gang is WAY more obtuse for the sake of comedy#but its interesting to watch the dynamic because as charlie said last week#they are mac and dennis (especially when theyre fighting)#i just think.. they are in a semi-unique position to understand this because this is how they are. while several other writers do not get i#ada speaks#untagged
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citnamora · 4 months ago
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Growing up is realizing you don't hate shipping, you just really wish the execution of it was less amatonormative
#hot aro shit#actually aromantic#romance repulsed#amatonormativity#like. I roll my eyes at ship culture for the most part. but it really isn't the ships themselves. it's just how weird ppl are about it..#a lot of folks will pair everyone. e v e r y o n e. and it's like.. in doing so they just kinda mix and match who 'works best' with who-#without really considering if they would partner with anyone in the first place. like. ppl are nonpartnering for a number of reasons#besides being aspec or adjacent. it's just weird assuming everyone would get with someone when single ppl exist!#and the way a lot of shipping is set up.. it feels like they're lopping chunks of the characters off. mangling them beyond recognition-#just to fit them into these specific dynamics. specifically romantic tropes. instead of embracing tropes that compliment the character-#and preserve the integrity if you are truly utilizing these characters. and look. I get the appeal of shipping. it's fun to mash characters-#together like dolls and set up these stories with them. but if you have to fundamentally erase every unique aspect of them for it-#or ignore large chunks of what makes them who they are in the first place? are you really shipping those characters? or are you making them-#original characters with the names and faces of your favorites?#pairing everybody is also just incredibly lazy lmfao. like. ignoring the fact nonpartnering ppl (both aspec and otherwise) exist..#you're barring yourself from exploring narratives you otherwise would be able to expand upon with characters- that sometimes-#matches don't really work out. or the pressure to find someone when no one 'fits.' abuse victims relearning who they are outside-#of what they bring to the relationships in their day to day lives. friendships that defy the idea romance is the strongest love.#deconstructing the idea of love being something everyone needs. like. you cannot execute that when you pair everyone!#anyways. ship what you ship. idc. but please be mindful of how harmful the ideas you're pushing can be.
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medicinemane · 5 months ago
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Tumblr should consider having a search function that isn't universally agreed to be just dog shit
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carebearbussy · 3 months ago
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ᥫ᭡ thinking about heian era! sukuna having a heavy breeding kink, seemingly out of nowhere.
you bring up a mere idea at dinner, the conversation quickly turning normal, to you bringing up an idea he had never given a second thought to.
"do you ever want kids with me, 'kuna?"
you would ask him, innocently enough, a sickeningly sweet tone hidden beneath your words. but you would already know the answer to this question. he would look up at you, then back down at his food, annoyance pondering his mind. eating a slab of salmon sashimi, he took a bite, chewing slow enough to hint at his potential answer. placing down his chopsticks, he would look back up at you, scoffing to himself at your foolish inquiry.
"those small, annoying humans that require too much attention for their own good? no thank you, i have better things to attend to."
he says, focusing on the meal before him. but his thoughts soon get the best of him. and now that he thinks about it, he will need an heir eventually. and not only that, but what would you be like? as a mother specifically. you would require more attention than most of the time. which was something he secretly enjoyed indulging in, despite his negative reasoning towards infants. how would you look?
you would be more swollen than usual, you stomach would grow larger by day, your breasts will most definitely become more full by the day. the bigger picture, which was you, enticed him in a way. something about seeing you round with his child really had his head going.
and so thats how you ended up here, you knees tightly locked against your stomach, as sukuna absolutely plows into your already stuffed cunt.
this was the seventh time? eighth time? at this point, you couldn't keep track. but he had came wayyyy too many times more than an average man should be able to. it was excruciating, really, the whimpers leaving your mouth, his hands bringing your knees closer to your chest with every move of his hips.
his seed was leaking out of you, glop by glop, dripping down your bottom even more, as he kept going harder and rougher. splashes of your juices paired with his cum stained the bed, the squelching of your pussy becoming deafening with every smack of his heavy balls against the rim of your ass. and the tight grip he had on your locks wasn't helping his case.
"hah, you're gonna give your king his offspring? yeah? r' you gonna be a good little mother f'me? make me an heir?"
he asks, your head barely able to focus on anything other than trying to stay sane. you felt sooo full, but this apparently wasn't enough for sukuna, or his heavy urges to breed your sloppy cunt. you nod eagerly, not wanting him to go any harder than he already has. but with the way he kept abusing your womb, it seemed like you were enjoying it, as sukuna relishes in your facial expression, your eyes rolling back, your mouth hung open wide enough to stuff two of his free fingers in.
"you'd be such a good mother, so obedient too. you wanted to rile me up, didn't you? i'll give you what you want, woman."
moaning into his fingers, you swirl your tongue around his digits, making him hum contently. you try to focus your vision onto his eyes, but the way he pushed his chest further into yours, had you practically cross eyed. hitting a new angle, you felt yourself completely let go, officially adding onto your list of orgasms you had previously had that night.
he released his fingers from your mouth, a coat of your saliva stringing upon release. he ceases to pull out of you, instead letting himself nuzzle nicely into your warmth, releasing yet again inside of you, earning a whine of complaint on your behalf. he playfully slaps your cheek with his wet hand, trailing it down to your pussy, playing in the ring of his semen around his cock. you squirm slightly, as you watch him then bring his cum coated fingers up to your mouth, pushing them back inside your mouth, making you taste his seed, some of his cum pooling around your lips.
"does that taste good? i bet it does, since you seem to love my seed so much. i cant wait to see you so full, besides from right now, of course."
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screampied · 7 months ago
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ok hear me out toji is always rough and somehow mean when you fuck, but something happens to you (you can decide what) and he turns really soft and gentle for one night. just one.
❤︎ ໋𓈒 toji being soft with you for once
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warnings. fem! reader, soft dom toji, praise, missionary, talking you through it, mdni.
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being in bed with toji, he’s usually almost always rough and degrading. it’s something he’s mostly used to, however there’d be a specific time where he’d have to change things up . . . just for you.
he’d notice something’s wrong the minute he’s about to align himself again. you’re awfully quiet underneath him as you awaited and he’s well aware of how you keep avoiding his stoic gaze. “hm,” he’d ponder aloud with a mere natural pout. toji grabs ahold of your chin before softly stroking it with his thumb, making you stare right into his green curious irises. “something’s wrong. talk to me, babygirl.”
“nothing’s wrong, you can finish—”
“something’s wrong,” he repeats, his voice is a bit more stern yet it’s still gentle. he slows down and brings a thumb towards your cheek to lightly stroke it. “you’re avoiding eye contact,” he points out, still inside you yet he brings his hips to an abrupt pause. toji’s panting yet he takes a moment to breathe. “you can talk to me, y’know.”
you briefly meet his dark pupils before letting off a low exhale. “i . . had a bad day,” and then as he’s hovering over your body, you slowly drag out your final breathy words in a sheepish, “can you—can you hold my hand?”
“aw,” he teases, grabbing your hand before intertwining his thick stubby fingers with yours. his touch was so safe, so warm, so gentle. his thumb strokes against the back of your hand before he holds onto your hip with another. “want a head pat too, sweetheart?”
“s-shut up,” you moan, feeling the tip of his dick prof against your entrance. he wasn’t exactly moving but you still felt him. your ankle runs against toji’s back and he’s so close to you that you could smell the strong aroma of alcohol and mint linger on his breath. toji’s now softened gaze never leaves you and his kittenish eyes ease up soothingly. “just go slow ‘n hold my hand, toji.”
“so sensitive today,” he purrs, leaning to kiss the top of your forehead. it was something about his voice—the way he spoke to you currently, it was just so smooth. his eyes that were known to always be cruel and intimidating palliate just at the sight of you— the sight of his pretty girl underneath him, asking for a simple request to hold her hand. “. . mwah,” and the moment his lips brush against your skin, you let off a soft whine. “i’ll go niiice ‘n slow for you, yeah.”
once he finally picks up his pace again, he’s so gentle with you. the grip on your hand tightens a bit and you moan.
you’re always used to toji being so rough in bed, manhandling you and all—alas, you never exactly minded of course, but a change of pace like this was strikingly nice.
his stumpy fingers strum against yours before you feel his hips gradually move again. “t-toooji,” you whine out, watching as he kisses near your neck. so benign, so tender. toji was always familiar with every inch of your body. he knew the layout of your body as if it was an apartment. he always knew where to go, your weakest and most sensitive spots— forever engraved into his mind. with your eyes starting to roll back, you squeal out a shaky, “i l-love you.”
“cock drunk already?” he fake pouts, a smile curling against his lips before he slowly starts to thrust into you. the moans that left your mouth were incredibly melodic, a mere harmony he was listening to. toji couldn’t help but grin at your sweet words of whimpers of how much you loved him, losing yourself completely on his cock. “but i love you more, princess,” and he feels your ankle scrape further down his tense back muscles. a rigorous surge of wind forcefully plucks from your lungs and you struggle to suppress your own whines. so good, so thick. toji squeezes your hand tightly, giving your forehead another chaste kiss. “how’s it feel? ‘s slow enough for you, baby?”
“good, y—yes, ‘toj,” you whimper, both hands throwing around his broad neck, over his high rising shoulders. he was merely nude, only wearing a white tee to follow. the chain that was wrapped around his neck dangles against your face every so often and you mewl out a sweet desperate sob for more. “touch me more toji, p-please. touch me.”
he snickers. “oh. am i not touchin’ you?”
you pout and he’s enjoying your brief irritation. whenever you were getting frustrated—you always had such cute expressions, especially when your lip frowns up or your eyebrows twitch to show your sheer vex. with a sigh, you grumble, “kiss me, toji. i want a kiss.”
“you . . want a kiss?” he softly coos, his voice was as smooth as silk. so sweet, deliciously candied with each word he pronounces at you. the rasp underneath his tone only made you throb for an even longer time. with an eyebrow raise, toji accelerates his hips before he feels your gummy walls stretch out perfectly. you were so good for him, so fucking good. his cock rummages inside of you to where your eyes were merely reaching the sockets. until all you saw was nothing but black, an entire void of straight nothingness. as your eyes remain stuck back into the very depths of your cranium, he’s always loved looking at your dramatic expressions—especially whenever he was on top of you. “say please. ‘m bein’ soft for right now but don’t forget those manners i taught ya, sweetheart.”
you sigh again and he slyly smiles at your sheer frustration.
“. . pleaseee,” you whine out, dragging your nails down his back. by now, you were sure his back was coated with a few marks from your pointed fingertips. the way your bottom lip pokes out once you pout yet again was so adorable. “kiss me toji, please.”
“anything for the pretty girl,” he murmurs in a soft voice, bringing a rough hand to cup the right side of your face. his pace was just so tantalizingly slow, emitting out all types of whiney moans from your lips. toji leans in and the moment his lips press against yours, you whimper. he’s stuffing you full of inches in the meantime — feeling the way your walls adjust and constrict around him. as both lips are moving in rhythmic tavern, you legs squeeze around his slim jerking waist.
toji’s always been fond of your taste, so glacé. his tongue runs against your bottom lip, tasting your sweet lip gloss before he grunts into your mouth.
thick heavy balls slowly pound into you and his pace was so salaciously relentless that it welts out all kinds of squelches directly from your cunt.
“f-fuuck,” he groans, each pivot he creates only grows more rapid and sloppy. he’s so thorough, the angle makes you whimper into his mouth before you compress around his length tighter. he’s so close up to you, the warmth of his body colliding up against yours makes you throb more. toji’s speaking in between kisses — a string of spit departs each time he leaves, swiping his tongue against your lip before after about a nth amount of kisses later, he finally breaks away. “aw. did i love you too hard, princess? you look a little out of breath.”
“s—shut up,” you moan, clinging onto his back even tighter. he was right though, your lungs were strained and you were panting heavily, heaving. the wind gets yanked out of your throat before you slump back against the bed. “gonna c-cum, toji. gonna cum,” and then you meet his softly coy gaze— he returns the eye contact before you see a bit of tenderness in his dark irises. “please, please let me cum, ‘toj. pleaseee.”
the smile against toji’s lips further— you’re so cute, the way you were chasing your current orgasm. it felt like a wave, an abrupt wave that was about to collide. your cunt holds him hostage before he leans in to kiss the bridge of your nose.
“mwahhh,” he purrs softly, deepening his hits against you before your thighs end up aching underneath near the very undersides. he’s so deep that your jaw dangles open. hot breathy puffs of air leave past your lips before he strokes your cheek. “give it to me, baby. c’mon, i got you.”
as he’s talking in such a smoothly polished tone, his words send a plethora of butterflies inside of your stomach.
toji stares at you in such a lovingly way— it last for at least six seconds, he looks like he’s about to say something even further before he stops himself. “aw. don’t space out on me now, gorgeous,” and he strokes your cheek. “squeeze my hand, girl.”
“hngh c-cumming,” you whimper, feeling your stomach seize a few times before you finally climax. it comes at such a speed that you’re taken aback. your own clammy hand grips against his whilst a thumb strokes against his knuckles before he smiles. you’re shaking, convulsing and his cock’s still buried into you from the very hilt. toji leans in, his broad chest pressing against yours before he licks near your neck. you moan, feeling your collarbone start to dampen up from his wet tongue— toji chuckles, watching you spasm out on his length before he stops his hips again. “f-fuck.”
“. . . so cute,” he susurrates, and his deep raspy voice was a mere whisper. he spoke in a hushed tone, staring deeply into your eyes before picking up your hand to kiss it. “do you feel a little better?”
“a— a little,” you inhale a sharp breath, his weight just idly hovering over your hot-tempered body. everything felt so good, it was a reoccurring ring in your ears that always came whenever you were tweaking out on his dick— he’s always loved the twitch your lips make, failing to get your words out whenever you came. in rushed words, you whine out a sweet, “t-thank you toji, thank you,” and he’s taken by surprise once you pull him into nothing more than a sweet hug. “love you.”
it takes him a good minute to reply, he has a playful pout on his lips as he’s still inside—you feel his tip mash against your sweet spot, causing you to whimper against his ear before he kisses the sensitive outer shell of your earlobe.
“oh but i love you more, babygirl,” and you feel him gradually pull out. you frown at the sudden feeling of being empty before he hums at your expression. “now, let’s get some sleep. i’ll even sing you a song, just for you.”
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spencerreidenjoyer · 1 month ago
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let you lock me down (tonight) | spencer reid x reader
You'd never really thought about having kids, but Spencer just might change your mind.
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wc: 600, rating: explicit/18+
tags: breeding kink (this is the whole premise of the fic. oops?), talk of having kids/pregnancy, established relationship, fem!reader, set in s10-11
a/n: no reason for this other than the fact that sabrina carpenter's juno is one of my fav songs off the short n' sweet album. also i was probably ovulating when i started this drabble sorryyyy
You know Spencer had wanted kids since you first got together.
It hadn’t come up until a few dates in, where Spencer had been a little late to dinner because he was helping to watch over his colleague’s kid. He’d talked for half the night about how much he adored her kid as his godfather, with his colleague having a second one on the way, and how he wanted to be a dad someday.
You would’ve found it more creepy if you weren’t extremely endeared. Spencer was undeniably loving, caring, and impossibly sweet, and dating him was easy. Being with Spencer is easy. You get him, and he gets you.
You know Spencer wants kids, and that’s why when you mention it you’re not surprised by how he reacts.
It just happens to be in the middle of sex.
“Fuck, baby,” you giggle, Spencer being extremely eager as he pushes into you. “You’re so needy. It’s like you wanna put a baby in me.” 
Spencer chokes, his hips stuttering at your filthy words, and it just pushes him deeper into your tightness. “Oh, my God.”
“Does that sound good? You filling me up with your cum until it takes?” you moan, as Spencer rolls his hips into you. It shoves his thick cock deeper inside of you, bullying his way past your tight walls. 
“You make me sound like an animal,” Spencer complains, but his breathlessness tells you that he’s into it. He’s still fucking into you – hard, eager, desperate.
“You could fuck me like an animal,” you swoon, just a little, rather pleased with yourself and the fact that Spencer is so into this, so into you. “Wanna claim me as yours?”
Spencer laughs, shaking his head. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Not before you get me pregnant,” you tease, waggling your eyebrows. “Come on, you know you want to.”
”You are literally insane,” Spencer says, stilling his hips. They’re pressed flush against you, but he looks down at you sternly. “Are you being serious right now?”
You purse your lips, considering Spencer’s own concerned look. “Kind of?”
”Kind of?” Spencer parrots back. “Be more specific.”
”Maybe I just wanna enable your breeding kink,” you smirk, locking your legs around Spencer’s waist. The movement pushes him inside of you a little deeper, and he whines. 
Spencer rolls his eyes, half exasperated and half endeared. “I don’t have a breeding kink.”
“You do, baby,” you giggle. “And getting pregnant wouldn’t be so bad.”
Spencer’s eyes are so wide they look like they could pop out of his skull. “You– You can’t just say things like that! And we are not having a conversation about family planning while I’m inside of you.”
”Now would be the perfect time to talk about having kids,” you offer, but Spencer glares at you.
Smiling, you wriggle your hips just to get a rise out of Spencer. It works, you note, as he whimpers with the movement. ”Okay, so after you’re done with me?” 
“We’ve only been dating for three months,” Spencer says, furrowing his brows. 
“I know,” you nod. “And I mean it. You— You make me want to. Consider kids, I mean.”
Spencer sighs, but you see the way his eyes soften, hear the warmth in his voice as he tries to seem normal and calm about all of this. “Okay. I’ll make you cum and then we can talk about kids.”
“Aww. How romantic,” you say, as Spencer leans forward to kiss you again, and to fuck you again.
While you’d never seriously thought about having kids, Spencer is certainly making you reconsider.
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zepskies · 4 months ago
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Headcanon: Wearing His Clothes
Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader
AN: I haven't done one of these in a while! This one was requested by the lovely @luci-in-trenchcoats. 💜
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Fluff, spiciness/implied smut
Headcanon: How Dean, Beau, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to you (getting caught) wearing his clothes.
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Dean Winchester
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Ugh, what a cocky SOB. 😆 (And yet, not the cockiest of them all.)
You've been doing it for weeks now, without comment from him.
But every time he sees you in one of his undershirts, getting ready for bed, it's always accompanied by a little once-over. A curve of his lips. A smirk, if you will.
He likes the look of you.
He likes that you're his.
And he likes the fact that you feel comfortable enough to steal his clothes.
He also likes welcoming you into bed next to him, with a hand running up your back, or venturing under whatever undershirt you've decided to slip on to feel the warmth of your skin.
"'S this mine?" he asks. You give him a quirking smile.
"You know it is," you say, with playful challenge.
Dean accepts that with a hum and leans in for a kiss as payment.
Sometimes that one stolen kiss leads to another, simmering with heat. And he’ll take great pleasure in taking back his shirt, casting it to the floor and rolling you underneath him on the bed.
But it doesn't stop at his undershirts. You steal his plaid ones if you want something to comfortably drown in when you're doing research, or just lounging in the bunker. The material is soft from several hundred washes. (The red and black one is one of your favorites.)
Rare though it is for him to wear hoodies, it's rarer still, because Dean can never even find one in his side of the dresser.
That's because you're keeping it hostage on your side, buried under your lingerie. (Even if he tried to find the hoodie, odds are he’ll get distracted.)
It gets to the point where he can hardly find anything of his.
His brows furrow as he rucks through his drawers for something clean to wear, while clad in only his most threadbare sweatpants.
"Damn it, woman. Where are my shirts?" he grouses.
You bite your lip and pretend to keep reading your book. You're already safe in bed, covered up to your chest by the blankets.
"I don't know. Have you done your laundry?" you ask, smiling to yourself. Dean catches you, with a suspicious brow raise.
He climbs into bed and snatches the covers away from you. You yelp at the suddenness and try to grab at them, but it's too late.
He discovers that you're wearing one of his newer shirts, which he had to buy to replace the ones he just can't seem to find.
"Are you kidding me? This is Theft in the First goddamn Degree!" he exclaims, even though he's close to laughing at the way you're already giggling. He manages to pin you underneath him on the bed, and he has half a mind to take this shirt back as well, by whatever means necessary.
And yes, tickling is one of those means.
"Sweetheart, for the love of God. Why do you keep taking my shit?" he asks, in a way that's half-serious in his frustration, but also half-teasing.
You shrug shamelessly, still smiling. You run your hands up his bare arms and shoulders, and back down his chest.
"I don't know. It's comfortable," you say. But your eyes lower as your face begins to warm with a blush. "Makes me feel safe...like you're always with me."
At that, the tension in Dean's shoulders eases. His smile can't help but soften around the edges as he looks down on you, now with fondness. After a while, he lets out a deep sigh.
"All right," he says.
You grin, because you know he's given up. You lean up for a kiss that successfully distracts him.
Dean still gets annoyed sometimes when he can't find a specific item of clothing in his drawer, but now, all he has to do is go over to your side of the dresser.
There he knows he'll eventually find what he's looking for.
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Beau Arlen
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Heh, in this episode of “Whose Hat is it Anyway”...
Beau's wardrobe reminds you of a cowboy in modern times.
Lots of browns and beiges, lots of slacks and buttoned-down shirts tucked in with an army of belts to choose from (even though the man only owns a few pairs of boots). Not to mention a slew of jackets that often pull the look together.
But being that he's new to Montana (specifically, Montana winters), you like to buy him sweaters. Cable-knits and soft ones in earth tones that you think bring out his eyes.
Beau accepts whatever you get him and graciously wears them. He trusts your judgment on what looks good on him, and he appreciates the way you think of him.
It's just one of those ways, however small, that you show that you care and that you're looking out for him.
One night while he's working late, however, you find yourself trying to reorganize the closet. The man is "organized chaos" at best, and you find one of his sweaters on the floor. It's a nice burgundy one that you bought him recently.
Ooh, so soft, you think, while feeling the fabric between your fingers.
You don't know what possesses you, but you decide to slip out of your pajamas and try it on yourself.
SO damn soft, you realize, as you practically drown in the sweater. It hangs about to mid-thigh.
Then you see one of his beige Stetsons hanging on the wall. A sneaking smile curves your lips, before you slip on his hat.
To complete the ensemble, you dig into the recesses of your closet and find a pair of your old cowboy boots. You go out into the bedroom and check yourself out in the mirror with a growing smirk.
"Hey there, darlin'," you try to impersonate your boyfriend's subtle Texan twang, and even his mannerisms by winking at yourself, tipping the hat forward.
You giggle at your own silliness in this moment, but alone in your own house, who freakin' cares? You should feel free to dance naked through the whole damn place if you feel like it.
So you spin on your heel and do a little twirl in your boots.
"Who's the sheriff now, huh?" You mime a pair of guns with your hands and shoot at your reflection. "Psh, psh!"
But that's when you catch sight of one Beau Arlen, leaning against the bedroom doorway with his arms crossed. An amused grin is plastered to his face.
You freeze in shock, still with your "gun hands" held up.
"Oh, don't stop the show on my account," Beau says slyly. He gestures at you. "Please, continue."
Your hot blush spreads from your cheeks and quickly begins to travel down your neck. "Uh...I was just...you know, cleaning the closet. You're very messy, you know!"
Beau snorts and draws closer. Those green eyes of his take in the full sight of you, down your bare thighs and cowboy boots, and back up to your embarrassed face. You bite your bottom lip on reflex.
"You know, I like what you got goin' on here," he says, waving a hand down your form. "But it's just...it's missing something."
He takes his badge with the gold star off his belt and pins it to your sweater.
"There you go. Perfect fit," he says, even as his hand slides up the slope of your back. You find yourself pulled further into his orbit as you try (and fail) to stamp down a smile.
"You're late, you know," you remind him. Beau bows his head and presses a kiss into your neck. You feel his smirk there.
"I'm sorry, Sheriff. Gonna arrest me, or let me off with a warning?" he teases. His other hand comes up to adjust the hat on your head. You smirk and cling to his arms over his dark brown jacket. It's one of his nicer ones.
"I think I can let you off," you play along. You lean up to skim your lips across his cheek, and closer to his ear. "But only for good behavior."
He has to chuckle then. "I can accept those terms..."
Beau's hands slip under your stolen sweater and begin to slide it up your body, inch by inch.
"Though I'm gonna need you to keep the boots on," he says lowly, just before he claims you with a searing kiss.
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Soldier Boy (Ben)
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Oh, here we go. 😅
As with most things, it's a point of pride for Ben.
He'd prefer you be too fucked out to move, let alone put on clothes after he's finished with you.
On the rare occasion that your body doesn't feel too much like warm molasses after a few hot rounds with your boyfriend, you like to at least grab one of his discarded shirts to cover yourself.
If he still has energy, he'll take that as a challenge. He'll try to slip his hands underneath whatever shirt you've found and divest you of it, so he can start devouring you again.
However. Ben does like seeing you in his clothes, in a possessive, claiming way.
There are days when you just want to be swallowed up in one of his large, comfortable shirts as you lounge about the house.
Ben sometimes watches you putter around, cleaning, working, cooking, reading, or watching TV in nothing but his clothes. He wonders if you're even wearing panties. You could be bare faced with a severe case of bed head, but his eyes will still occasionally follow you.
His expression doesn't reveal too much, but he likes it. (And because you know him, you know it too.)
Maybe he'll catch you as you pass by, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. You startle with a yelp, but then you grab onto his arms and smile.
"Can I help you, sir?" you tease.
"Think you can just walk by me, looking sexy as fuck?" he remarks. He steals a slow, thorough kiss. You cup his face and bring him back in for more, tenderly stroking his cheek.
"You know why I like wearing your stuff?" you ask. Your smile hints at teasing.
Ben arches a brow. "Why?"
"Because it keeps you looking," you reply. And you reach a hand around to slap his ass, for good measure.
Then you saunter away from him to get back to what you were doing.
Or at least, you try to.
Ben grabs your hand and pulls you back towards him, back into the cage of his arms, where he falls back into the trap you've so often laid. And he finishes what you started.
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AN: Well, then. 😂 I hope you guys enjoy this! Who had your favorite reaction: Dean, Beau, or Ben? 😘
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Dean Winchester Imagines
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Big Sky Masterlist
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Dean, Beau + Soldier Boy Tag List (Part 1)
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solxamber · 27 days ago
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One Date and a Lifetime: Leona Kingscholar x reader
You have chosen Leona! ; aka the times Leona-i-don't-care Kingscholar puts in effort for you;
1k masterlist ; Prologue
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You never thought Leona would actually take this date seriously. Honestly, when you first call him, you half expect him to suggest, "Let's just take a nap or something." Instead, his voice is low and smug, almost purring through the phone.
“Sure. I’ll pick you up later. Be ready.”
And just like that, he hangs up before you can ask for specifics. Typical. You're prepared for some half-hearted effort involving him dragging you to a secluded spot to nap under the stars or something like that. But then, a knock sounds at the door of Ramshackle, and there stands Ruggie with a bouquet.
“These are from Leona,” Ruggie says with a grin that’s two parts mischievous, one part disbelief. “He told me to get the ‘good ones,’ whatever that means. I charged him double, by the way.”
You take the flowers, cheeks warming, trying not to feel too charmed by the fact that the laziest lion you know thought to send you flowers. “Compensation good?”
“Let’s just say I’m eating like royalty tonight.” Ruggie winks before scampering off, probably with plans to milk his housewarden’s generosity for the rest of the week.
When Leona finally arrives at your doorstep, you're stunned into silence. He’s dressed to kill, sharp black slacks, a sleek button-up rolled at the sleeves. Effortlessly regal.
"You..." You blink. "You’re somehow even prettier than usual. How is that fair?"
He grumbles, averting his gaze, but you catch the way his chest puffs out just a little. “Tch. Cut it out.”
“Admit it—you love the compliments,” you tease, looping your arm around his as you step outside.
Leona scoffs but doesn’t pull away. “You gonna keep flattering me all night, or are we leaving?”
And so begins the wildest date you could have imagined: Leona, the notorious nap king, escorting you to a local festival, of all things.
You glance up at him as you stroll through the brightly lit stalls. “I thought you hated crowds.”
“I do,” he replies, but then adds in a gruff mutter, “It’s fine if it’s with you.”
Your heart skips a beat. You're lucky he looks so good because you might’ve fainted on the spot otherwise.
At one of the stalls, you spot a mountain of cotton candy, pastel pink and blue fluff that looks like it’ll melt if you so much as breathe on it. You buy a stick and tear off a piece, holding it up to Leona.
“C’mon, try it.”
He eyes the sugary fluff suspiciously. “That’s just sugar and air.”
“Exactly. Now open up.”
With an exaggerated groan, Leona leans down, and you pop the piece into his mouth. His brow furrows as he chews. “Way too sweet.”
But the next time you hold up another piece, he still eats it, grumbling under his breath about “sugar addicts.” You don’t miss the tiny, fond smile that sneaks onto his face, though.
As you continue through the festival, you spot a prize stall lined with plushies, including a little dragon that immediately catches your eye.
“I need that,” you say, determination sparking.
You try... and fail. Repeatedly. Leona watches your attempts with a smirk, arms crossed like he’s enjoying the show.
When you lose for the fifth time, he sighs dramatically. “Move.”
He steps up to the game and, with one smooth flick of his wrist, nails it on the first try. But instead of the dragon plush, he gives the attendant a lazy grin. “The lion.”
When he hands you the lion plush, you stare at it, confused. “What happened to the dragon?”
“Lions are better,” Leona says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “No debate.”
Despite yourself, you can’t help but smile. It’s ridiculous, but it’s him, and somehow that makes it perfect.
Later, when he takes you to an absurdly expensive restaurant, you raise an eyebrow. “Are you sure about this? It’s... kind of pricey.”
He gives you a flat look. “Order whatever you want. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
So, naturally, you do. And the food is fantastic. Leona leans back in his chair, watching you with a lazy smirk as you happily dig into your meal.
When the date winds down and Leona walks you back to Ramshackle, the night air is cool, and you instinctively rub your arms. Without a word, Leona shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.
You clutch onto his arm with a grin, snuggling into the warmth. “Thanks, Leona.”
He shakes his head, amused. “You’re lucky I like you.”
“Of course you do.” You laugh, leaning against him. “Oh! Did I tell you what Ace and Deuce did earlier today? You won’t believe it.”
He humors you as you chatter away, recounting the latest shenanigans. “So, Grim decided to ‘supervise,’ which really just meant eating half the snacks while Ace accidentally set off the fire alarm—again.”
Leona snorts softly. “Idiots.”
“Yeah, but they’re my idiots.”
When you finally reach Ramshackle’s doorstep, you turn to face him, a little reluctant for the night to end. On a whim, you step forward and wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly before pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Leona freezes for half a second, and when you pull away, his expression is somewhere between surprised and utterly smitten.
“Goodnight, Leona,” you say softly, watching as he blinks down at you like you just shattered every lazy expectation he had about this date.
He clears his throat, looking away, but you catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah... night.”
As he turns to leave, you can’t help but feel like you’ve just unlocked a whole new side of him—and you kind of love it.
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You’ve been talking about this video game figure for weeks. Every time you hang out with Leona, he hears about it. Well, "hang out" is a generous term—he naps on your lap or leans against you, and you yap his ear off about how amazing the game is and how this figure is the holy grail of limited merch.
“I’ve been doing everything,” you rant one day, lying next to him in the botanical garden. “Crowley made me do ten extra assignments this week. I even agreed to clean Grim’s litter box without arguments—twice! But it’s worth it. If I get that figure, my life will be complete.”
Leona, who’s half-asleep with his head resting on your shoulder, cracks an eye open. “That good, huh?”
“Yes, that good. There are only ten in the world, Leona. Ten.”
He grunts, shifting a little to get more comfortable. “Better hope your luck’s good, herbivore. Sounds like a lotta effort for a toy.”
“It’s not a toy,” you huff dramatically. “It’s a collectible figure, and it’s the coolest thing in existence. Just wait—when it drops tomorrow, I’m getting it.”
And yet, the universe doesn’t care about your efforts.
You stare at your phone screen in disbelief the next day. The site crashes, the countdown ends, and the figure sells out in 0.2 seconds flat. You refresh. Then refresh again. But it’s gone—snatched from your grasp like a mirage in the desert.
“No... no, no, no.” You sit there, devastated, as the weight of your failure sinks in. After all the work, all the chores, and all the emotional speeches to Leona, you’ve been denied. The limited-edition figure remains forever out of reach.
By the time you see Leona later, your mood is somewhere between tragic despair and begrudging acceptance. You find him lounging in the garden again, his favorite napping spot.
“Didn’t get it, huh?” he asks, his voice carrying that lazy drawl as you flop down beside him.
“Nope,” you sigh, resting your forehead on your knees. “All that work, all that hope... and nothing.”
Without another word, Leona pulls something from behind him and chucks it onto your lap.
You blink. Then blink again.
It’s the figure. The figure. THE limited-edition figure you’ve been pining after for weeks.
“Leona???” you squawk, holding it up like it might vanish into thin air if you let go. “What—how—why—?”
He just shrugs. “Still the second prince, y’know.”
“You—" Your jaw drops. “Did you use royalty status to get me this figure?!”
“Yeah.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like he just asked the palace cook to make toast instead of pulling strings for a rare collector’s item.
You gape at him, torn between disbelief and giddiness. “Leona... that’s cheating.”
“So?” He leans back with a satisfied smirk, clearly amused by your reaction. “You wanted it, didn’t you?”
You can’t help it—you burst into laughter, clutching the figure like it’s the greatest treasure ever gifted to you. “You’re impossible.”
Leona tugs you down beside him, trapping you in his arms. “Yeah, yeah. Now quit yappin’ and let me nap.”
Still grinning like a fool, you curl into him, giggling into his hair. “You’re way too good to me, you know that?”
He huffs, but there’s no hiding the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His hand rests lazily against your back, warm and grounding. “Hmph. Lucky I like you.”
And just like that, he drifts off into sleep, his arms snug around you. And you? You lie there, feeling like the happiest person alive, hugging your figure close while Leona naps against you, his soft breaths the perfect lullaby.
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The first sign something is wrong comes when Grim tries waking you up for your usual chaos-filled day.
“Hey, get up, henchhuman! We’ve got things to do!” he says, poking your cheek with one of his fluffy paws. “It’s already late! If Crowley gets mad, I ain’t takin' the fall!”
Normally, you’d groan and roll out of bed—or at least threaten Grim with chores—but today? All you can manage is a weak grunt before you flop back onto your pillow like a defeated pancake.
“Henchhuman?” Grim nudges you again, this time with more urgency. You crack one eye open just long enough to see his ears flatten in concern. “Oi, don’t ignore me—what’s wrong?”
Your head is heavy, and it feels like your bones have melted into jelly. You try to say I think I’m dying, but all that comes out is a sad, congested whimper.
Grim’s eyes widen, and suddenly, he’s a blur of blue fur and panic. “You’re dying!” he yells, as if confirming the worst-case scenario. “Don’t go toward the light, henchhuman! I’ll be right back—stay alive!!”
Before you can reassure him—or at least remind him that people don’t die from mild fevers—Grim is already out the door, paws skidding against the floor like a tiny tornado.
Somewhere across campus, Leona is enjoying a particularly satisfying mid-morning nap in the botanical gardens when an absolute menace of a furball barrels into him.
“HEY, YOU! Lion guy!” Grim shouts, climbing onto Leona's chest. “Get up! Henchhuman’s dying!”
Leona cracks open one bleary eye. “Dying?” he repeats with a skeptical grunt, already half-expecting Grim to be overreacting. “Probably just overslept.”
“I know the difference between sleeping and dying!” Grim shrieks, paws batting at Leona’s face. “They're burning up, can’t even sit up! You gotta do something!”
Leona grumbles under his breath, but he’s on his feet before Grim can push him again. The usual lazy slouch is gone, replaced by swift, purposeful movements.
By the time he strides into your room, Leona has already called his personal doctor, much to Ruggie’s dismay (“Do you know what time it is?! Do I get paid overtime for this??”). Leona doesn’t care. He’s moving fast—like a lion with a mission.
It’s a blur after that. You vaguely register a cool hand against your burning forehead, Leona’s voice a low rumble beside you. The doctor checks your pulse, takes your temperature, and declares it’s just a fever with some exhaustion thrown in. Nothing dangerous, but definitely enough to flatten you.
“Hah.” Leona lets out a short sigh of relief, slumping in the chair beside your bed. “Told ya Grim, not dead.”
“Yeah, well…” Grim’s still pacing at the edge of your bed, tail twitching in frustration. “They looked dead, okay?! How was I supposed to know?”
“You weren’t. That’s why I’m here,” Leona says flatly, though his tone is less irritated than usual.
The next few hours pass in a fog of sleep, soft voices, and the occasional pressure of something cool against your skin. Ruggie swings by every now and then to drop off food, grinning as he deposits soup and medicine like it’s some kind of delivery service.
“Man, if I knew babysitting was part of my job description, I’d have charged extra,” Ruggie teases, setting down a tray.
Leona just rolls his eyes. “Get lost, hyena.”
Despite his usual snark, Leona is surprisingly attentive. He makes sure you drink water, feeds you spoonfuls of soup even when you mumble protests, and keeps an arm draped lazily around you when you shiver. If anyone asks, he’ll say it’s just because you’re annoying and need constant supervision.
When you finally come to, it’s because something warm and heavy is curled against you. You blink a few times, head still foggy, and realize it’s Leona—completely sprawled across the chair next to your bed, but with one hand tightly clasping yours.
You smile, warmth blooming in your chest at the sight of him. Carefully, you nudge closer, nestling against his arm. The movement stirs him awake, his golden eyes blinking down at you groggily.
“You awake now?” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep.
“Barely,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
Leona grunts, but the way his thumb brushes over your knuckles is answer enough.
Just as you’re about to fully enjoy the peace, a loud, dramatic voice cuts through the moment.
“Finally!” Grim bursts into the room, leaping onto your bed. “Took you long enough to wake up! I thought I’d have to hire a priest or somethin’!”
You chuckle softly, the sound a little scratchy. “Didn’t know you cared that much.”
“Pfft! As if.” Grim crosses his arms, looking away with a huff. “I just didn’t wanna be stuck with Crowley as my only companion. He’s useless.”
But despite his words, Grim scrambles onto your lap anyway, curling up against your chest with a grumble. “Don’t get sick again, okay? It’s a pain.”
You pet his fur, grinning as you feel him relax. “Okay, okay. No more dying.”
Leona shifts beside you, rolling his eyes. “What, am I invisible?”
“Shh,” you murmur, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Just let me enjoy my two favorite cats for a minute.”
Leona huffs, but there’s a flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I'm not a cat. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.”
You grin back at him, and for once, you don’t need words to say thank you. He knows.
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You like to think of yourself as a strong person. Someone who can hold their own in this chaotic, magic-ridden school where everything from magical accidents to actual ghost attacks is a typical Tuesday. You’ve handled your fair share of weird situations and even gotten through them without embarrassing yourself too badly. But… you are still a magicless human. And that’s a fact you can’t change.
So when three tall, muscle-bound Savanaclaw students corner you in a dimly-lit corridor on your way to visit Leona, your heart sinks.
"Where ya headin', little herbivore?" The biggest one grins, flashing sharp teeth that remind you just how much worse your day could get.
“Leona’s been hanging out with you a lot, huh?” another one sneers, blocking your path. “Think that makes you special or something?”
"Maybe they've got some kind of deal with him," the third one suggests, his voice dripping with mockery. "How about you tell us what’s really going on between you two?"
Your stomach twists, but you keep your face neutral. No way are you going to let them see how nervous you are. "How about you back off before you embarrass yourselves?" you say, proud of how steady your voice sounds.
The tallest one leans in, his grin widening. “Look at you, acting all tough. Too bad there’s no magic in that mouth of yours.”
You force yourself to hold your ground, though your fingers twitch toward your pocket. You really don’t want to bother Leona, but… well, desperate times. With a quick, discreet motion, you send a single SOS text.
You: Cornered. Help.
The three of them are still jeering at you when you hear footsteps approaching from behind. Slow, measured, and heavy with the kind of weight that makes everyone in the hallway tense.
"Oi," a familiar, low growl cuts through the noise like a hot knife through butter.
All three of them freeze. You glance over your shoulder—and there he is. Leona Kingscholar.
He stands at the end of the corridor, his usual lazy posture replaced by something much sharper, much more dangerous. His emerald eyes gleam with a warning, and a sly, predatory smile spreads across his face.
"Seems like I showed up just in time." His voice is deceptively calm, almost bored. “What do you think you're doin'?”
The boys shift uncomfortably, exchanging nervous glances.
"Just… chatting," one of them stammers, the earlier bravado leaking out of him like air from a punctured balloon.
Leona steps forward, leisurely, as if he’s in no hurry—but there’s something about the way he carries himself that makes the air heavy with tension. His presence fills the space, demanding attention and submission.
"You must be real stupid," Leona drawls, "if you think you can mess with what’s mine."
The tallest boy blanches. “W-We didn’t mean—”
Leona’s grin sharpens, all teeth. "Didn’t mean to what? Annoy me? Make me waste my time on some sad, third-string rejects?"
They flinch, shrinking under the weight of his words. Leona isn’t yelling. He doesn’t have to. His authority is clear—absolute.
One of them mumbles an apology, and the others nod hurriedly, ready to slink away. But Leona’s not done.
“You ever try this again,” he says, his voice dropping into a dangerous purr, “I won’t just kick you out of Savanaclaw. I’ll bury you so deep, nobody’ll even remember your names.”
The boys scatter without another word, practically tripping over each other to escape.
Leona watches them go with a snort, then turns his gaze to you. His sharp expression softens just a fraction, the predatory edge giving way to something lazier—something almost… fond.
“You good?” he asks, as if he didn’t just verbally annihilate three guys on your behalf.
Your heart is racing, but not from fear. No, this is something else entirely. Something far more dangerous. You’re not sure when it happened, but you are completely, utterly smitten.
“Yeah,” you say, trying—and failing—not to sound starstruck.
He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” you tease, a grin tugging at your lips.
“Like you’re impressed.”
“Oh, but I am.”
He grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck, but you notice the faintest hint of color creeping up his ears. “Tch. Idiot.”
You laugh softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Thanks for showing up, though.”
Leona shrugs like it’s nothing. "I told ya—just call me when you need me."
That does it. You feel yourself practically glowing at the simple promise, the quiet reassurance beneath his words.
You lean toward him, your grin widening. “What if I need you right now?”
He smirks, draping a lazy arm over your shoulders. “Then I guess I’m stuck with you.”
You let yourself melt into his side, the earlier tension gone like a bad dream. The two of you walk off together, his arm comfortably slung over you like it belongs there.
And, in that moment, you’re pretty sure it does.
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The assignment in front of you is a nightmare.
You’ve been staring at the same page for what feels like hours, your head throbbing with frustration. You chew the end of your pen, tapping your foot anxiously against the floor. Why did you leave this for the last minute? Why does it feel like every word on the page is written in an ancient, cursed script meant specifically to drain your soul?
Meanwhile, Leona is draped over you like a weighted blanket, his head resting comfortably on your shoulder. You know he’s napping because of the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing. This man has zero care in the world.
He’s been napping while you’ve been spiraling. Because of course he is.
You mutter curses under your breath, willing the assignment to finish itself. But the numbers swim in front of your eyes, and your breaths grow shorter, more unsteady. Panic claws at the edges of your mind.
Leona stirs. He shifts just slightly, cracking open one eye to glance at you. “Oi,” he grumbles. “Stop breathin’ like you’re about to pass out.”
You ignore him and grip the pen tighter, heart pounding, trying to push through the stress. That’s the worst part about this assignment—if you don’t finish it, your grades will nosedive, and Crowley will never let you hear the end of it.
Suddenly, Leona's hand slips out from around you and snatches the pen from your grip. "Gimme that."
You blink as he pulls the paper closer.
"Leona, what are you—"
"Shh." He flips through the pages like they personally offended him. His eyes scan the questions with the kind of effortless ease that makes you want to scream in frustration. Without so much as a sigh, he picks up the pen and starts writing.
You can only sit there, dumbfounded, as his neat, surprisingly elegant handwriting fills in the answers you’ve been struggling with for hours.
"Wait—are you actually doing my homework?" you ask, staring at him in disbelief.
He glances at you from the corner of his eye, the barest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Told ya. I'm a senior. This stuff’s easy."
"Easy for you, maybe."
“Then why didn’t you ask me earlier?” he drawls, finishing the last answer without breaking a sweat.
You blink at the completed assignment like it might disappear if you look away. "I… didn’t think to."
Leona rolls his eyes and tosses the pen onto the desk with a lazy flick of his wrist. “Next time, just ask. I ain't gonna let you stress yourself out over dumb stuff.”
And that’s it. Just like that, all your anxiety evaporates.
You turn to look at him, utterly smitten once again. "You're ridiculous."
He leans back, resting his head against your shoulder again with a satisfied sigh. “Yeah, yeah.”
You let yourself melt into him, the earlier panic now a distant memory. His warmth, his steady breathing, the way his arms rest loosely around you—it all feels so easy. So right.
For a moment, you just sit there in silence, the peaceful kind that feels rare and precious. The assignment is finished. The world isn't ending. You don’t have to do everything alone.
You tilt your head to rest against his, your smile soft. "Thanks, Leona."
"Mm," he hums, already halfway back to sleep. But his hand gives yours a lazy squeeze, a quiet reassurance that makes your heart skip a beat.
The day passes in a haze of warmth and peace, your stress long gone. And you realize something: being with Leona feels like this—like having someone who makes the hard days bearable, without needing you to say a word.
And yeah, you could definitely get used to this.
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You've thought about asking him for weeks. Maybe even months. But every time the words start forming, you chicken out. You’re this close to accepting that you’ll just live in relationship limbo forever.
It’s safer. No awkward conversations, no heartbreak. Just… endless naps together, weird dates that may or may not be dates, and him doing sweet things without ever calling them what they are.
But tonight, as you sit curled up in his arms, watching the stars from a balcony in the botanical gardens, it feels like the moment. Leona is lounging beside you, one arm slung lazily around your shoulders, the other resting on your leg like it's the most natural thing in the world. His warmth is comforting, grounding, and for once, you let yourself think: Maybe, just maybe, this is real.
You take a breath, steeling yourself. If he laughs or acts indifferent, fine. If it ruins everything—okay, not fine, but you'll survive.
“Hey, Leona?”
He hums, eyes still half-lidded. He’s relaxed, probably thinking about nothing except how long it’ll take for him to drag you back to bed.
You clear your throat. “What are we?”
Leona cracks one eye open, giving you a lazy look. “Huh?”
You shift nervously under his gaze. “Like… What is this? Are we—” You gesture vaguely between the two of you. “—a thing? Or… I mean, are you—do you even like me like that? Or—?”
He stares at you for a second, blinking slowly, like a cat woken from a nap it didn’t want to leave. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”
You feel your courage start to wither, but you force the words out. “I mean, I thought… We never really said anything official. And I don’t know if this is, you know—” You wave a hand. “Something? Or if you’re just putting up with me or—”
Leona makes a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh, like you just asked him the dumbest question imaginable.
“You really thought I’d let you hang around me this much if I didn’t want you?” he says, giving you a flat, incredulous look.
You blink at him. “So… we’ve been dating this whole time?”
He just stares at you. “...What else did you think we were doing?”
“Oh my god—” You slap a hand over your face, torn between relief and secondhand embarrassment. “I thought you were just vibing.”
Leona snorts. “Yeah. Vibing with you. Idiot.”
Despite yourself, you laugh—a little breathless, a little giddy. It’s so absurd. All this time, you’d been worried about asking him where you stood, and he just… assumed you knew.
Leona rolls his eyes but shifts slightly, turning to face you. His gaze is softer now, and the usual laziness in it is replaced by something raw and unguarded. His hand, rough and warm, cups your cheek.
“Listen,” he mutters, voice low and a little rough around the edges. “I’m not good at sayin’ stuff like this, so don’t make me repeat it, okay?”
You nod, holding your breath.
“I love you.” The words slip out easily, like they’ve been waiting there all along. “Don’t care what anyone says, don’t care what they think—I'm not good at a lotta things, but I know I want you.”
Your heart stumbles. For a moment, the world feels too quiet, too small. You reach up to cover his hand with yours, warmth spreading through your chest.
“I love you, too,” you whisper, like it's the easiest thing you've ever said.
Leona's lips twitch upward into a faint, self-satisfied smirk, but there’s something vulnerable in the way his gaze lingers on you, like he’s not used to getting what he wants.
“So,” you say softly, “are you my boyfriend now?”
He gives you the look—that deadpan, long-suffering stare, like you’ve just asked him the dumbest question of the century.
“Then what the hell else would I be?” he grumbles.
You can’t help it. You laugh—bright, free, and maybe a little too giddy. And before you can stop yourself, you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips.
The kiss is soft, warm, and it lingers just long enough to make your heart race. He tastes like mint and the faintest hint of something earthy, something that feels like home. His hand slides down to rest at the small of your back, holding you close like he has no intention of letting you go.
When you finally pull away, you grin at him, still breathless. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Yeah, well.” He smirks, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You’re stuck with me now.”
“Good,” you whisper, and this time, it’s him who leans in.
And just like that, the world slips away, leaving only the two of you—wrapped in warmth, in laughter, in everything you never knew you needed.
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Leona saunters into your room, hands in his pockets, tail flicking lazily behind him. “Hey, Falena and his family are visiting today,” he says, like it’s the most casual thing in the world.
You blink at him from your bed, mid-scroll on your phone. “You mean the King and Queen of the Sunset Savanna are visiting.”
Leona shrugs. “Yeah. Same thing.”
You sit bolt upright. “Leona, that’s not the same thing! Those are literal royals!"
He raises an eyebrow, already amused. “I’m royalty too, you know?”
You groan, dragging your hands down your face. “But you’re my boyfriend!”
Leona’s smirk grows as smug as the desert sun. “Exactly.”
Oh no. He’s loving this way too much.
Despite your protests, you're soon standing next to Leona at the main entrance, sweating bullets as Falena, his wife, and Cheka step through the doors. They’re all gorgeous and elegant, the epitome of royal perfection. You’re about to pass out from nerves, but Leona? He looks like he’s two seconds away from falling asleep on his feet.
Cheka spots you first. “UNCLE LEONA!” he shrieks, barreling straight for his favorite uncle—and by extension, you. Before you can brace for impact, the little lion cub is already latched onto your legs.
“You must be the one Leona told us about!” Falena grins warmly, stepping up beside his wife, who’s equally radiant. “It’s so nice to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you.”
You gawk at him. “Wait... Leona talks about me?”
Falena’s wife smiles knowingly. “Quite a bit, actually.”
You shoot Leona a look, but he just rolls his eyes. “Don’t get weird about it.”
Meanwhile, Cheka, still latched to your leg like a koala, looks up with big, bright eyes. “You’re my favorite person now!” he declares, squeezing your leg tighter. “After Uncle Leona. But you’re mine after him, okay?”
Leona huffs out a laugh, amused by the possessive cub. “Tch. Good luck, kid.”
“I’ll fight for you!” Cheka promises dramatically, like you’re a prize to be won at a carnival. He even makes little fists, shadow-boxing an invisible opponent. “I’ll become a strong lion and beat all the bad guys!”
You try (and fail) to hold back a laugh. “Well, I look forward to it.”
Falena claps his hands together, his grin brighter than the savanna sun. “Since we’re all here, how about a walk around the grounds? It’ll be nice to catch up.”
“Nope.” Leona’s arm is suddenly wrapped around your waist, dragging you closer to him. “We’re good right here.”
Falena and his wife exchange that look—the kind that says they’ve been married long enough to know exactly what’s going on.
“We’ll leave you two alone, then,” Falena says with a chuckle, patting Leona on the shoulder. “We’re happy for you, Leona.”
His wife nods, her eyes twinkling. “Very happy.”
You open your mouth to protest—Wait, this isn’t what it looks like! We’re just standing here! I’m not even sure what’s happening!—but the words don’t come. You just sputter and blush as Leona tugs you closer, looking far too pleased with himself.
“See?” Leona murmurs smugly, lips quirking into a grin as you bury your face in your hands. “Told you it wasn’t a big deal.”
You groan into your palms. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” His grip tightens just a bit, his voice low and lazy as ever. “C’mon. Admit it—you like having a royal boyfriend.”
You peek through your fingers, cheeks burning. “Leona...”
He leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Say it.”
You glare up at him, flustered beyond belief but unable to hide the smile creeping onto your face. “...Okay, maybe I do.”
He hums in satisfaction, practically purring. “Thought so.”
And just like that, he pulls you into a lazy, one-armed hug, as if holding you is the easiest thing in the world—and honestly? It kind of is.
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The moment the news breaks that you’re dating Leona, you know it’s going to be a thing. A very loud thing. Ace and Deuce are the first to get wind of it, and honestly, you almost regret ever telling them.
“Leona Kingscholar?!” Ace yells, gaping like you just told him you were moving to Mars.
“Why??” Deuce adds, equally stunned. “Are you okay? Blink twice if you're in danger.”
“Isn’t he the guy who naps literally everywhere?” Ace squawks. “Like, you’re really dating a guy who falls asleep during fights?”
You roll your eyes. “Yes, Ace. I am.”
“Not to mention he’s scary,” Deuce mutters. “What if he, I don’t know, kicks you out of the relationship because it’s too much work?”
“He’s not going to ‘kick me out,’ Deuce.”
Ace leans in conspiratorially, wiggling his eyebrows. “Have you thought about what happens when Riddle finds out?”
Deuce pales. “Oh man, I’m not telling him.”
“You’re definitely telling him.”
“No, you tell him!”
“Do I look like I have a death wish?” Ace scoffs. “I can already hear him screaming something about ‘poor romantic judgment!’”
Meanwhile, Jack is sitting with his arms crossed, brow furrowed. “I don’t know why you’re all acting like this. Housewarden Leona’s actually cool if you get to know him.”
Ace stares at him like he’s sprouted a second head. “Jack, the man once threatened to ‘accidentally’ kick me into a bush because I sneezed near him.”
“Yeah, because you sneezed on him.”
“It was allergy season!”
“Uh-huh.” Jack shrugs. “Still deserved it.”
Before you can jump in, Grim waddles in, arms crossed like the world’s smallest mafia boss. “I don’t care who you date as long as you’re still my henchhuman. Priorities, ya know?”
“Gee, thanks, Grim.”
Then, from across the room, Epel starts cackling like a madman.
“Oh, Vil is gonna lose his mind when he hears about this!” he wheezes, clutching his stomach. “Leona’s the exact opposite of Vil’s whole life philosophy. This is beautiful.”
“Yeah,” Ace adds, smirking. “It’s like watching two completely different wildlife documentaries crash into each other.”
Before you can stop him, Sebek jumps in, indignant. “I cannot believe you would choose that lazy lout over the Young Master!” He practically growls the words.
“Sebek, Leona is—” you try to reason, but Sebek steamrolls right over you.
“He sleeps through his classes! He’s rude! And worst of all, he doesn’t respect Master Malleus!”
You sigh. “Sebek, you can’t date someone based on their respect levels for Malleus.”
“You should!” Sebek declares, crossing his arms dramatically like a lawyer who just delivered the winning argument.
Before things spiral further, Jack mutters, “Leona’s not rude. He’s just… efficient with his energy.”
“Efficient? He calls that one freshman ‘footstool,’ Jack,” Ace deadpans.
“Maybe it’s a term of endearment,” Jack grumbles defensively.
You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. The whole scene is chaotic—Ace flailing, Epel wheezing, Sebek looking personally offended, Deuce still white-knuckling through the idea of telling Riddle—and somehow, it’s perfect.
Because deep down, you know something they don’t.
Even though Leona doesn’t show it, even though he hates doing anything that even smells like effort, he cares. He really does. Whether it’s texting you to remind you to eat, draping his jacket over you when you forget yours, or waking you up from an accidental nap with your favorite snack—he makes sure you know.
You just smile quietly to yourself, heart warm. And when Ace notices and nudges you, asking what’s got you looking so smug, you just shrug.
“Oh, nothing,” you say, already counting down the minutes until you can see Leona again.
Because even though the man drives you up the wall and naps like a professional, he’s yours. And that makes all the teasing worth it.
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1k masterlist ; Main Masterlist
i know lions don't purr but in my delusions, leona does. work with me here
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ravenslvt · 8 months ago
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fucking your ex boyfriend in the bathroom of a party.
☆ multiple x f!reader ☆
cw: smut, mirror sex, public sex, rough sex, hate sex (sort of), tension, alcohol, oral f! receiving, v fingering, spanking, pet names, praise, sex with feelings, unprotected sex
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you don’t know how your bestfriend managed to rope you into coming to this party, all you did know is you wanted to get plastered while she found someone to hook up with.
you held onto her for dear life as you made your way through groups of people. mostly strangers, but you saw some familiar faces. you started to feel a bit nervous when you noticed some eyes roaming your outfit. maybe you should’ve worn a longer skirt…
your bestfriend’s eyes immediately spotted a pretty girl across the room, she gives you an apologetic smile. you roll your eyes.
“just go” you sigh. at least someone would be getting some action tonight. you make your way to the kitchen where there were bottles apon bottles layed out on the counter. you grab one of the disposable cups, pouring yourself a mixed drink before downing it. the liquor bringing a comforting burn down your throat.
suddenly, you felt a cold chill in the room. you look around, there were no windows or doors open. until finally, your eyes immediately draw to a pair of familiar ones. oh great, he’s walking over. you turn around, pretending you didn’t notice him, hoping he’ll walk past you.
“oh, c’mon. acting like you didn’t see me?” he leans against the counter next to you, a drink in his own hand. fuck, he still wore the same cologne. the smell almost made you dizzy. he was wearing an unfamiliar jacket, it looked new.
his name rolls off your tounge in a harsh greeting, taking another swig of your drink. he gives a lopsided smile. “still mad at me, pretty?” he takes your empty cup, refilling it for you the way he knew you always liked it. you give him a glare. he puts his arms up in defense. his body looked bigger, more defined. he was clearly working out more since you two broke up.
you snatched your cup back. if you were going to be forced into this conversation, you might as well be drunk.
“why are you here?” you ask, your eyes never leaving his own. he was drawing you in without even trying.
“i was invited. why are you here?” he pokes your shoulder with his pointer finger.
you just point to your best friend across the room, who was now making out with the cute girl from earlier. he huffs out a small chuckle. “that girl never rests, does she.” he comments. you just shake your head, “no she does not.” you sigh, another swig.
his eyes go back to you. more specifically, your outfit. you had a new top on, he’d never seen it before. he’d have remembered seeing such a pretty shirt on you before. and of course, you wore your favorite mini skirt. the one he always loved you wearing.
“this is cute, wear this for me hmm?” he smirks, his fingers playing with the bottom hem of the skirt. you swat his hand. he was the one who bought it for you. almost fucking you in the dressing room when you tried it on after doing a little spin for him.
“no… i just had nothing else to wear.” your face flushes. you didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or from the fact you were both thinking about the times you’d sit on his lap in this skirt, panties off while you bounced on his cock.
god, he loved that skirt.
you could feel yourself clench around nothing just thinking about it. he gets a little closer when he notices your flushed state, his fingers drumming against the table filled with alcohol. his damned fingers that knew every part of your body.
ok, you were definitely a little drunk, or maybe you were just stupid.
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your back slams against the door of the bathroom, the blasting music muffled from the small enclosed room.
your lips met in a hungry, bruising kiss, tongues fighting for dominance. his large hands gripped your waist, your head forced against the wood. he moves one of his hands to shove between your thighs under your skirt, his fingers digging into your panties, making you whine into his mouth when he pinches your clit.
“fuck, this wet already? missed me that much, sweetheart?” he mumbles into your mouth, pulling away to pull the flimsy fabric down your legs with his free hand. of course you wore your favorite panties, the ones he bought especially for you. the sight made him groan.
“i’m not your-“
“i wasn’t talking to you.” he stares directly at your slick pussy. great, now he was talking straight to your cunt.
you look at him with glossy eyes as he kneels down, kissing down your thighs. you hook your fingers into the waistband of your skirt, but he gives your thigh a slap. “keep it on. i wanna see you get fucked in this pretty little skirt again.” he practically growls as he gives your thighs a few more kisses and bites, marking you up.
“want everyone to see you still belong to me.” he sucks marks into your upper thighs, placing a few where your little skirt couldn’t cover.
you mewl his name when his tounge delves into your sopping pussy, his fingers pulling your folds apart to get more access. your hands grip his hair for some stability as he laps you, his tounge switching from flicking your sensitive clit to prodding at your tight hole.
he replaces his mouth with his fingers, pumping two into your cunt as he suctions his lips onto your bud, making you bite your lip to prevent yourself from screaming out, almost drawing blood.
“fuckk!” his long fingers hit deep inside of you, his digits shifting between thrusts and curling inside. your legs shook, hands gripping his hair for dear life. giving him a particularly hard tug, he groans into your cunt, the vibrations making you let out a moan.
the mixture of stimulations had you on the edge, he knew you were about to cum.
time almost seems to slow as he feels you clench around his fingers, your eyes flutter shut, gripping his hair for dear life as pools of fire seep low in your abdomen. his fingers continue to pump into you as you cum, wetness dripping down his chin and wrist.
it was probably obvious you hadn’t fucked anyone since you two broke up the way your pussy responded so well to him.
still, he doesn’t pull away, addicted to the taste of you. he was completely lost in your cunt until you pushed at his head, whining his name. he reluctantly pulls away, giving your cute clit a few more kisses before parting.
you both pant, his face glistening in your slick. you almost moan at the sight.
“you taste even better than i remember, baby.” his hands sooth down your thighs.
“don’t call me that.” you heavily breathe. he just chuckles, standing up. his firm hands grab your ass, giving it a firm smack, making you yelp.
“face the mirror. wanna watch you take my dick.” he pats your hip, encouraging you. you obligated, finally seeing yourself in the mirror. your lip gloss was completely smeared, making you pout a little. until your ex boyfriend comes up behind you, his hard on pressing against your ass. his hand wrapped around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder as your eyes meet in the reflection.
his other hand reaches to wipe the smeared lip gloss, cleaning it up for you. his fingers tap your lips impatiently, seeking enterence. your eyes never broke contact. you open your pretty little mouth, his two fingers sliding in. you groaned as you tasted yourself on them. he grinded himself against your rear, hiking your skirt above your hips.
“gonna let me fuck this messy pussy?” his fingers enter deeper into your mouth, almost making you choke. you nod, swirling your tounge around his digets.
“mhmph” you mumble around them.
“gotta tell me how much you missed me first.” he teases, removing his fingers to slowly undo the button of his pants. you roll your eyes.
“just fuck me-“
smack
your ass stings, you were sure there was gonna be a red mark the size of his hand. you whimper.
“what was that, pretty? use your words.” he purred into your ear, biting your earlobe gently, nibbling marks down your sensitive neck.
“fuck, i missed you so much, i need your cock so bad-“ you whine his name. “-i touch myself thinking about it- but nothing is as good as you.” you shamelessly confess, a smirk growing on his smug fucking face.
“good fucking girl.” he growls, taking his raging cock out from his briefs, his hand pressing down on your back so you bend over the sink to give him easier access.
you mewled as his leaking tip pokes through your enterence.
he slowly sheathes himself in, savoring the feeling of your hot walls contracting needfully around his cock. “god, it’s been so fucking long. it’s like she’s sucking me in.”
your fingers gripped the counter in front of you, your eyes focusing on his own. the way his face scrunched once he was burried balls deep inside of you. his deep breaths, the way his hair slightly stuck to his forehead from how much he was sweating.
you’re about to speak, but your words turn into moans of his name as he thrusts in and out of you, his hips slapping against your ass. your head rolls down to rest against your arms on the counter, but he doesn’t allow that.
his hand that isn’t wrapped around your waist goes to grip your throat, pulling you back against his chest.
“watch yourself get fucked by your future husband.” he grunts, his thighs burning from all the rutting, but he’d feel that pain forever if it meant he could be able to fuck you like this again.
you watch as your tits bounce through your shirt in the mirror, drool threatening to spill from the corner of your mouth. the mirror was big enough that you could see his dick pumping into you. obscenely wet sounds coming from where you two meet.
“o-oh fuck, feels s’good, don’t stop!” you moan out, staring at him in the reflection. he was so focused on the way you felt around him, he had almost forgotten you two broke up.
“oh god, baby. i fuckin' love you, need your pussy every day, can’t live without it.” he bites your shoulder, hard, making you groan. his hand moving from your throat to grope your tits through your top. his hips only slapped into you harder and harder, your vision going blurry when the head of his cock hits your soft spot. you let out chants of his name, your arms reaching back to grip his hair to bring him impossibly closer.
you stared at yourself in the mirror. the way he slid in and out of you with ease made you squeeze around him, prompting a groan from him. your hair was out of place from his rough treatment, marks down your neck and thighs. you couldn’t even think about having to explain this to your friends later.
“squeezing me so good. so perfect for me. gonna let me fill you up, hmm? walk around with my cum dripping out of you, let everyone know you’re fucking mine.” he thrusts with a bruising pace, your whole body rocking with the rolls of his hips.
“p-please yes! need it so bad!” your mind starts to blank, the only thing you could think about was the way he was pulsing inside of you, threatening to spill at any minute.
“touch yourself, baby.” he pants, his thrusts getting sloppier. he was so close, but there was no way he was going to cum before you. you nod, bringing a shaky hand to your ruined pussy, rubbing and pinching your clit the way you liked it. your mouth fell open at the overwhelming pleasure taking over.
“m’gonna cumm!” you whine until the only thing you can say is his name, over and over. just how he always loved it. he whispers dirty praises into your ear, talking you off the ledge. you force your eyes to stay on his own in the mirror. you hated how fucking hot he was.
waves of intense heated pleasure start to roll over you, moaning as your vision gets blurry with tears of ecstasy. “s’good!” you scream, tightening around him, making it hard for him to move. he curses as you grip his cock so tightly, milking him so hard he cums inside of you.
you pant as his thrusts get lazy and eventually slow to a halt. he didn’t want to pull out, but he knew he couldn’t just stay in here with you forever, no matter how much he wanted to.
he pulls out hesitantly, the mixture of your release dripping out of you making him let out a harsh breath.
you finally come down from your orgasm, completely fucked out. oh how much you missed his cock. and him too you guess.
he turns you around, giving your cheeks kisses before enveloping his mouth with your own. your tounges gently roll over eachothers, contrasting in comparison to how he was just fucking your brains out.
your phone lights up on the counter with a text from your bestfriend. you squint, reading the message.
‘bitch i’m leaving. don’t think i didn’t see you guys btw -_-‘
he wraps his arms around your middle, seeing the message.
“gonna come home with me?” he leaves even more love bites down your neck, making you sigh.
“…yea”
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GETO, gojo, SUNA, atsumu, leon kennedy, toji, kuroo, dick grayson (sorry not sorry), your fav ;)
masterlist
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rafesangelita · 10 days ago
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⋆˚✿˖° in an attempt to get sheep!reader to be more vocal about what she wants in bed, rafe only gives her what she’s able to say..
warnings: mean!rafe (?), heavyyy teasing, corruption kink (?), fingering, lots of dirty talk, praise, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cockwarming, light fluff
a/n: i see your req’s for more sheep!reader works, don’t worry i’ll be working on them soon! <3
wc: 1.8k
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“come on, ‘pretty, all you have to do is use your words..” rafe’s eyes traveled down your naked form, his fingers ghosting over the soft flesh of your thighs. this was absolute torture. “rafe, i can’t!” you cried, your cheeks heating with embarrassment. your boyfriend took so much pleasure in knowing that you were far too shy to ask for what you wanted, a smug grin gracing his lips as heavy tears threatened to spill from your eyes. you looked away from him, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. “i won’t say it..” you mumbled, gasping softly when rafe dipped a finger between your glossy folds.
“won’t say what?” he taunted, barely stroking your clit before pulling his hand away. you let out a shaky breath, meeting his eyes for the first time during this whole ordeal. “please.” you whimpered pathetically, hoping, begging, rafe will give into your pleas. rafe shook his head, giving your side a little pinch. “i don’t know what you’re asking for.” he shrugged, his cock aching against his briefs. you drew your eyebrows together, your heart beating in your ears as you considered your next words. “i want you to touch me..” you whispered, your chest rising and falling as rafe offered you a teasing smile.
“touch you where? here?” he placed a hand on your knee, “here?” your arm was next, “..or here?” you whined in frustration when you felt his palm rest on your tummy. rafe was purposely making this hard for you, and he was enjoying every second of it. “no!” you spread your thighs in hopes to draw his attention elsewhere. sure enough, rafe looked down, his jaw ticking at the sight of your puffy folds. “fuck.” he cursed under his breath. “i need you down there..” you trailed a foot down his torso, stopping right below his v-line. rafe knew you what you trying to do.
“i don’t know where ‘down there’ is.. i think you have to explain it to me, doll.” rafe wasn’t going to let up. you started thinking of ways to word yourself, the implications of what you had to say only made you more embarrassed. ‘vagina’ felt too proper to use in this situation, ‘pussy’ was too lewd for your liking, and ‘cunt’ sounded so aggressive, you didn’t know what to make of it. swallowing thickly, you knew rafe wanted to hear you say the second option more than anything. in your mind, you thought if you said the dirtiest thing, he would have to give you what you were crying for.. right?
“i want you to touch my—” rafe leaned forward. no fucking way you’d say it. “m-my pussy?” it was comical, seeing the way you avoided his heated gaze. rafe had never heard a curse word fall from your lips, let alone that word specifically. “was that so hard?” rafe laughed, sitting between your thighs as he spread you open, his cock twitching at the sight of your glistening succulence dripping down your cunt. with the pad of his thumb, rafe began circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, the long awaited sensation making your hips roll forward. “don’t move.” he warned, keeping a hand on your hip.
you shuddered, settling into your soft sheets as rafe then prodded a finger at your entrance. he teased your slit, slipping just the tip of his digit inside before gathering your slick and gliding the wetness up to your clit. “feeling empty, huh?” rafe saw you pathetically clench around nothing, your eyebrows knitting together in desperation. “y-yes, please! ‘want your fingers now.” rafe was pleasantly surprised, the second time around seemed to be more easier than the first time you requested something. “look at you, you’re doing great, baby.” your boyfriend praised you, deciding to reward you with two fingers instead of one.
your breath got caught in your throat when you felt the stretch of two digits inside your cunt, your mouth falling open as you hiccuped at the feeling of rafe’s long, thick fingers curling inside of you. still using his thumb to rub your clit, you cried out when you felt him press on that gummy spot that made you see stars. “o-oh!” you whimpered, your thighs shutting around rafe’s hand. forcing your thighs open, rafe leaned his weight on one of your legs, and used his free hand to pin down the other one, forcing you to take what he gave you. “you look so pretty when you don’t know what to do with yourself.”
rafe’s words sounded muffled, your heart beating in your ears when you felt the familiar heat start to simmer in your tummy. your hand rested on top of rafe’s, his fingers interlacing with yours. “you’re taking it so fucking good,” he leaned down, taking your lips in a searing kiss, “gonna make you cum, is that what you want?” you nodded helplessly, in which rafe tsked. “say it. say that’s what you want.” he urged. with the quietest tone you could muster, you spoke. “please make me cum..” rafe would’ve appreciated you saying it a little bit louder, but he figured he was lucky if he got you to say it at all.
picking up his speed on your clit, he watched with dark eyes as your face morphed into one of full blown pleasure, your lips swollen from rafe nipping at them. the wet sounds of your cunt made your cheeks heat, your chest caving in as you teetered the edge of pure euphoria. your hand shot up to grip rafe’s arm, your nails digging into his skin as your thighs trembled from your high washing over you. rafe always stared at you in awe whenever he pushed you over the edge, the little sounds leaving your lips never failed to drive him crazy while your velvety walls squeezed around his digits.
“nghh— rafe!” you squeaked, a string of sobs tumbling from your throat as he continued to bring you down from your high. rafe littered your neck and chest with wet kisses, your fingers running across his scalp. you whimpered when rafe pulled away, your eyes trailing down his toned stomach as he slid off his briefs. wrapping a hand around your ankle, you yelped when he yanked you towards the edge of the bed, running his cock over your still fluttering cunt. “tell me you want me to fuck you,” he groaned when he felt your slick coat his length, “tell me you want my cock inside you.”
you were hysterical at this point, bending at his will as you did what he asked. “please fuck me, ray. ‘want y-your cock inside me!” you repeated, your back arching off of the sheets when he slammed into you without warning. “fuck, baby, you have no idea what you’re doing to me,” rafe leaned down, caging you between his arms, “hearing you talk like that, s’driving me fuckin’ crazy.” you wrapped your legs around his waist, his biceps on either sides of your head. he filled you to the hilt in this position, bottoming out as his pubic bone grazed your clit with every thrust.
your eyes fluttered shut as you held him close to you, his breath fanning against your cheek as he whispered the filthiest obscenities in your ear. nothing else existed when you two were like this. it was like the world stopped spinning whenever he felt you taking him so good. “you’re so fuckin’ perfect, you know that?” he squished your cheeks together with one hand, your eyebrows knitting together as you gazed up at him, “always so pliant with me, ‘makes me wanna see what other fucked up shit i could make you do.” he chuckled, his words sending a shiver down your spine.
rafe could see the slight fear in your eyes, a gentle ‘shhh’ leaving his lips as an attempt to reassure you. “don’t worry, we’ll save that for another day.” he pecked your cheek, his hips snapping into you faster than before. you held onto his broad shoulders, the sound of his skin smacking against yours made you want to curl in on yourself, the lewd echo of it bouncing off of the walls. soon your legs were feeling like jelly and you couldn’t keep them locked around rafe’s build. sensing your struggle, he pinned the back of your knees against your chest, getting a full, clear view of his cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy.
“ah, fuckkk,” rafe drawled out, absolutely hypnotized at the sight. he glided with ease, your folds hugging him snugly. the grip you had on his cock was enough to make his muscles constrict with the need to fill you up, your pretty clit glistening with his precum. “m’gonna need to film this next time, you’re fuckin’ unreal.” he choked back a groan when you somehow managed to clamp around him even tighter. “h-holy shit,” rafe’s hips stuttered, his face scrunching when he began twitching, your second orgasm of the night hitting you with more force than the first one.
as if on cue, rafe peaked when you gripped the knitted blanket at your side, both of you moaning so loud you were sure ms. celia, the sweet old lady next door, could hear you two. rafe didn’t stop fucking into you until every last drop of his cum was lost in the heaven that was your cunt, his eyes rolling back when he stayed nestled inside of you. rafe helped your legs back down, your chest rising and falling with each breath you took. swallowing thickly, rafe sighed as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your hairline. “my god..” he looked at you incredulously.
how you had that innocent sparkle in your eyes right after doing what you did was beyond him. “that wasn’t so bad..” you whispered, running a finger down the underside of rafe’s jaw. “no, not at all. you did amazing.” he was still inside you when he leaned all his weight on you. you always felt so safe and secure every time rafe did this. you reveled in the feeling of his heart beating against your own, your eyelids heavy as sleep threatened to come over you. “i could fall asleep like this..” rafe mumbled. you giggled, a lazy smile gracing your features.
as much as you would’ve loved that, a hot shower was far more needed. after ten minutes of convincing rafe you two should get cleaned up for bed, and after round two ensued under the shower head, you and your boyfriend had finally cuddled up under the sheets, his warm skin mingling with yours. once you two exchanged ‘i love you’s’, you were out like a light. the next morning you had went out and checked the mail, spotting ms. celia rocking on her chair with her morning coffee in her hand. “good morning!” you waved, in which she smiled. “how did you sleep, dear?”
“just fine! i had a pretty long night..” butterflies fluttered in your tummy at the memory. “oh, i bet! it sure sounded like it.”
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