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harryspet · 5 months

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bambi eyes (5) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, obx special guest appearances, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: Will tag people later, for now I must sleep :) Enjoy!

word count: 3.9k

In which Rafe loosens his leash, but actions come with consequences.

Rafe told you to get dressed and to wait at the front of the house. Truthfully, you liked it better when Rafe picked out your outfits. That way, you knew exactly what looked good on you and that you wouldn’t make some kind of fashion faux pas. You decided on a pink fitted top, a matching skirt, and an adorable pair of brown boots Rafe bought you for Christmas. You completed your look with a bow at the top of your hair and an array of colorful bracelets you put on each arm.

You spent a while watching men in dark clothes walk the perimeter of the yard and through the forest on the sides of the property. At first, you were quite scared to see them, but Rafe explained that they worked for him. This led you to ask even more questions. Weren’t they cold out there? We should offer them some snacks? Could I make them cookies? Rafe shut down your curiosity quickly, emphasizing that you were not to say a word to any of them.

When the door to the enclosed porch opened, you expected to see Rafe. You closed your drawing book and turned your head to greet him. Instead, Rafe’s friend Barry greeted you. You’d heard them going back and forth all morning, usually, their conversations were tense, but you assumed they must’ve come to some type of agreement. At the sight of you, he smiled, flashing his gold tooth.

“Country Club’s little princess,” He sang, “How are you, baby?”

You smiled nervously, still not super used to being around others. It had been a few months now since Rafe brought you to Tannyhill and almost all of your social interaction had been with Rafe and Lana.

“I’m good, I . . . how are you?”

He walked in front of you, his hands behind his back as he looked you over, “Oh I’m just peachy. Whatchu got there?”

You glanced back towards the door, wondering if Rafe was far behind him. Looking back down at your lap, you said, “I was just drawing a little bit. Rafe told me to wait here–”

“Drawing, huh? You an artist?” Your eyes tilted back up to him.

“Not an artist,” You said quickly, “I just like to . . .”

“What kind of stuff do you draw?” He asked, and you sensed sincerity in his tone, “You know, I used to draw a lot when I was in school. Nothing serious, but I couldn’t help it; my mind would just wander, and then my paper would have a bunch of doodles on it.”

He kneeled down in front of you, and you hesitated for a moment before you opened the book. You showed him your page of doodles. You drew a lot of what you saw, including doodles of Rafe, and things you saw around Tannyhill, “That’s Lana, ain’t it?” You nodded, “Impressive. Most people ain’t good at drawing faces. Not you though.”

“Thank you,” You said, “You don’t draw anymore?”

He shook his head, “Not very often. I should.”

You agreed, “You should. Sometimes, Rafe will draw with me. Well, mainly we’ll color together. He likes it when there’s already a picture, so he doesn’t have to come up with it himself.”

“He’s pretty bad at it, anyways, ain’t he?” Unexpectedly, a giggle left your lips, and you raised your book to cover the bottom of your face.

“I should go look for him–” You made a move to escape, but Barry placed both his hands on the arms of your chair, effectively trapping you.

Barry hadn’t touched you, but you felt you might get in trouble just for laughing at his joke, “You don’t like my company or something?” You shook your head immediately.

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant . . .”

“You’re sweet; I can see why he likes you,” Barry held his eyes on you and you felt the skin on your face heat up with embarrassment, “You know, you ever get tired of him, or he pisses you off – which he will, then you can call me. We can run away together.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t have a phone.”

Barry smirked at that, “Ask anyone on this island who Barry is, and they’ll point you in the right direction.”

Running away with Barry was the last thing you wanted to do. Rafe had his bad days but you hadn’t considered trying to leave. Barry also barely knew you but you decided to think positively. Afterall, Rafe trusted Barry. You assumed his intentions must be good, “Okay,” You agreed, “When you come back next, maybe you can show me some of your drawings.”

“You want to see them. Really?”

“Yes,” You said, “It’s only fair.”

Barry nodded, “You make a good point. I gotta come back soon and try more of your desserts. That cake you made … I ain’t tasted nothing better.”

“You have to,” You rushed out excitedly, “Rafe and Lana say everything I make is great, I can’t tell if they’re honest.”

“I’m as honest as they come, sweetheart,” You grinned at that, “A good friend is honest.”

“You want to be my friend?”

“I mean, only if you want me to.”

“I do.”

“Don’t tell Rafe though–”

Your conversation was interrupted when the poor door opened, and Rafe appeared, “Don’t tell Rafe what?” His gaze was sharp, and luckily, it was mostly directed at Barry. You watched as Barry stood and stepped back from you.

“Nothing man, we were just talking about about Kildare. You’re going to let me help show her around, right?”

Rafe’s brooding look turned to amusement, “She’s not gonna step foot on your side of the island. Thanks for the offer though.”

There was an awkward silence, and you felt some tension building until Barry finally said, “Alright, I’ll see you soon, Bambi,” You waved as he turned on his heel, “Rafe.”

Rafe watched as Barry walked out the front door before he held out his hand, summoning you. You hurried from your chair, moving in closer before you grabbed ahold of his hand. It was his cue to you that he would be leading you somewhere, and you were expected to follow.

“He touch you?” Rafe asked, leading you out the same door. You watched as Barry pulled around the horseshoe driveway in his sports car. He walked you to his large truck, opening the passenger door, “Bambi.”

“Uh …no,” You stared.

Suddenly, you were the furthest from Tannyhill’s front door than you’d ever been.

“Good, get in, Bambi.”

“I’m leaving . . . you’re leaving with me in the car? Your car? Right now? Today?”

“Yeah,” He said, unsure of himself, “Get in; I’m already starting to change my mind.”

You jumped in excitement, “Really? Where are we going?” Rafe helped you as you started to climb in. He leaned over you, fastening your seatbelt for you, “You aren’t taking me back, right?”

“No, sweet girl,” Rafe assured you, “As far as where we’re going, it’s a surprise.”

You couldn’t contain your excitement as you settled into your seat. As you pulled past the gates at the end of the long driveway and onto the road, you couldn’t help but feel like all your faith in Rafe had paid off.

“Who’s that, Daddy?” You asked, noticing a black car that had also pulled out of Tannyhill and was following closely behind.

“No one, Bambi,” He brushed your question off, “So, uh, what were you two talking about? You and Barry?”

Your eyes were focused on the huge trees that hung over the road, beautifully dripping green moss from it’s branches. Between the trees, you saw huge mansions with big gates and long drives just like Tannyhill.

“Drawing,” You said briefly, “He said he would show me some of his work.”

“He’s full of shit.”

You turned to Rafe who was gripping the wheel with one hand, “Daddy … I don’t like it when you curse.”

“Bambi, I–” He held his tongue, sighing before he reached over to place his other hand on your thigh, “I’m sorry, sometimes work makes me lose focus. What I mean is that Barry is my friend but … he likes to mess with me, you know? So he might say something to you knowing that it would bother me.”

“He seemed like he meant it,” You said, “Would it bother you if we were friends?”

“Guys and girls can’t really be friends,” Rafe explained, “Especially not with little girls like you, okay?”

“But why–”

“Because I’m telling you right now. I appreciate that you are kind to Barry but he wouldn’t be a good friend to you. If I’m going to protect you, and as your Daddy, I should have a say in who your friends are.”

You opened your mouth to argue but quickly shut it. It didn’t make much sense to you why men and women couldn’t be friends. Why would Barry offer to be your friend if it wasn’t appropriate? You supposed that you never had any male friends before, and most men you’d been around wanted a similar thing from you, “Maybe you’re right, Daddy.”

You drove over bridges with water on both sides of the road and through more neighborhoods with huge houses. Fifteen minutes into your drive, you arrived at an area with a grocery store and lots of stores that you assumed were also for shopping.

Rafe pulled his truck in front of one of the storefronts. You unbuckled your seatbelt, sitting up further in your seat so you could read the sign, “Fig . . uuure eight …ball …it.”

“Ballet,” Rafe corrected you, “Figure eight Ballet Company.”

Confusion spread over your features, “I looked into it; they have adult classes for beginners. I thought it might be something fun for you to do once a week.”

“Me?” You pointed to your chest, “Dance classes?”

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” Rafe rushed out, “It’s good exercise, and you can also do it at home. And it’s a chance to meet friends, friends that are girls, preferably.”

“Oh,” When you looked at Rafe, it seemed like he was desperately trying to read your expression, “I’d be so nervous. And I wouldn’t be good at it.”

“I think people just do it for fun and to learn something new. And I wouldn’t just leave; I would walk you in and pick you up. Not today; I just wanted to take you by and see what you thought.”

“... It could be really fun …”

“And you’d make quite the adorable ballerina.”

“Maybe I could try one class . . . and if I liked it, you would take me every week?”

“Every week, as long as you continue to be a good girl,” Your nervousness started to melt away into excitement the longer you thought about it, “And while we’re out, I thought we could do some shopping. My research has informed me you’re going to need shoes, tights, a leotard, and a skirt.”

You practically leaped over the center console to hug him, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy!”

Rafe pulled you in close, “Anything for you, sweet girl.”

Rafe didn’t need to get his hands dirty anymore; he could hire people to protect him or kill for him. As he settled into his new life with you, he started to miss some of the adventures he experienced in his early 20s and late teens. There were no more brawls or treasures to steal. He hadn’t realized he needed an outlet for the negative energy that seemed to boil up inside of him sometimes. Now, what he knew is that he needed to keep that side of him as far away from you as possible.

Killing JJ would’ve satisfied that part of him that has been begging to come out of him for years. He would’ve felt a rush like no other, power and control that he hadn’t felt in so long. He hadn’t brought himself to do it yet, teetering on that line between sanity and insanity. The Pogue was always a good competitor, and Rafe wasn’t surprised that he was still fighting. Rafe liked that about JJ.

Still, Rafe wanted to see him break, and he was patient enough to wait for it.

“What would you do to see her again?” Rafe asked as he kneeled over JJ’s bruised and battered body.

The pogue coughed, and blood-spattered on the boat cabin’s floor.

The silent treatment followed, but Rafe was used to talking to himself, “I know she’s not over you, but how long do you think she’ll wait before she moves on? Six months? A year? I mean, she’s a wild one; I’m sure she won’t want to stick around this place for much longer.”

“Fuck you, Rafe,” JJ’s favorite words.

“Maybe you just don’t love her like I thought you did,” Rafe taunted, “I mean if you did, you’d be groveling at my feet, right?”

JJ’s eyes pinched tight as Rafe’s words sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

The silent treatment followed again, and Rafe considered what his next steps might be. Removing limbs? That could be fun for a while, but if he hadn’t surrendered at this point, what would make him crack?

“Fine,” Rafe looked down at his bloody knuckles, “I won’t bother you anymore today, but I do have something I want you to contemplate in your hours of silence. Consider the idea that I let you go, and you see Kie again instead of bleeding out here and your body being chopped into pieces. I want you to think, and I mean really think, about what you might do to make that happen. And don’t think of it as sacrificing your morals or making a deal with the devil … think of it as securing your future, okay?”

Rafe tapped his hand against JJ’s sore cheek before he stood and left. He heard no quippy comeback from the Pogue. At least Rafe had successfully beat that out of him.

Rafe’s eyes snapped open and was awakened from his sleep when he felt a soft finger poking at his cheek, “Wha…” Groggily, he reached to turn on his bedside lamp and found you, dressed in a onesie that made you look like a brown bear, standing beside his bed, a sniffling mess, “Hey, w-what’s wrong?”

Immediately, Rafe reached out to grab you, and you proceeded to climb onto his large bed, “I-I had a scary dream,” You hiccuped, “Y-You sent me away a-and I was alone again and Master he was so mad at me b-because I-I didn’t make you h-happy–”

Rafe shushed you, pulling you into him, “It wasn’t real, okay? Look, you’re here with me right now.”

“It felt real,” You whimpered, and Rafe’s lips pulled into a thin line of frustration. He wanted you happy, and he wanted to give you much more than you ever had, and it pained him that you thought he might hurt you in that way.

“I . . . I wouldn’t ever do that, Bambi,” He brushed tears from your cheeks and caressed your face, “I’d fu- … I’d rather die than let you go. And I’d kill anyone that tried to take you from me. Anyone, okay?”

“You’ve hurt people before,” It wasn’t a question; Rafe could see it was an observation she’d made.

“Yes,” He admitted, “But I haven’t hurt you, have I?”

“You saved me.”

Rafe nodded, “That’s right, sweet girl. I saved you. I’ve hurt people, yes, but I-I’m not a cruel person. I wouldn’t do something like that. And you make me so happy.”

Rafe watched as you blinked away your tears and tried to stop yourself from frowning, “What if I don’t always make you happy?”

“You make me happy by breathing,” Rafe tried to assure you, “You’re smart and beautiful, and you deserve nice things. I never had anyone in my life that made me feel like I deserved anything. I never even felt like I deserved to be loved. I don’t want you to ever feel like that.”

“I love you, Rafe,” You were trying to reassure him now, and Rafe was grateful. He loved those words on your lips, and he felt in his heart that you meant them, “And . . . I like being loved by you. So much.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Rafe felt you press your forehead against his before you pressed your lips softly against his, “Thank you . . . for everything. Uhm, did I scare you?”

“No, no,” Rafe’s mind was mostly on the thought of your lips, “I like being woken up by cute bears.”

Rafe pulled you in again for a kiss. Softly, your lips moved together, and Rafe explored your mouth with his tongue, slowly deepening the kiss. Rafe was already growing hard, and he cursed in his mind, frustrated by how easily you got him going.

“You still sore from earlier?” He asked.

“A little bit,” You spoke shyly, “You were kinda rough…”

Rafe thought back to you, bent over the arm of the couch, taking you deep, but that just made his cock ache even more.

“But I’ve trained that little hole well, haven’t I?” Rafe asked, pressing the length protruding from his boxers, against your stomach, “You can take more, okay?”

You nodded, although Rafe’s question was rhetorical. Rafe didn’t like you sad, but he certainly like seeing your teary face. Your pajamas were the cherry on top, including the convenient little flap on the back that allowed for easy access, “Turn around on your side, little girl,” Rafe commanded gruffly, “This will help you sleep.”

“Daddy…” You whined as you did exactly as Rafe ordered.

“Right here, not going anywhere,” Rafe pushed his crotch into your ass, bringing his lips close to your ear. He ground against you as he carefully pulled down the front zipper of your onesie. He needed to feel your nipples between his fingers, your breasts in his large hands. He also needed your pussy dripping for him, knowing he couldn’t fuck you when you were already sore without any lubrication. He reached into your onesie, finding your mound easily, and began to rub circles over your sensitive area, “Daddy needs you so badly.”

You squirmed, but you were tightly pressed against him. He teased you, moving back and forth from your clit to your breasts. He’d rub your breast until you were aching below, and when you started to feel close, he’d go back to teasing your nipples.

He got you to a point where you were so stimulated that you were already orgasming with three slow and deep strokes inside of you. You were convulsing around him, unable to contain your moans, but Rafe wrapped his hand around your mouth and continued to pump inside of you. It certainly wasn’t as rough as earlier, but Rafe could feel you squeezing him tighter, “You feel how happy you make me, Bambi?” Rafe grunted, “Daddy wouldn’t want to cum in any other pussy than yours — Jesus.”

Rafe finished inside of you. He hadn’t lost all of his energy, though, moving his hands back to your clit, as he filled you up. He didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and you were cumming again.

“Thank me.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” You spoke breathlessly.

Now that your Daddy was allowing you out of the house, there were new rules for you to learn. Of course, you weren’t allowed to talk to strangers unless they were girls you met at dance class. You had to go by Y/N, Y/L/N, and Rafe had given you an ID to carry around when you couldn’t be together. If anyone asked who you were to Rafe, you could just say that you were his girlfriend and you’d moved in with him a few months ago. That wasn’t far from the truth, so you didn’t imagine that would feel like lying.

A few days after he showed you the ballet company, he let you tag along to run errands with him. For most of the time you sat in the car, watching him pump gas, stop at different businesses, and shake hands with men who seemed amused by every word Rafe said. You noticed people tended to stare at him, especially as the two of you walked through the grocery store together.

“Did people always stare at you like this?”

“They used to stare at my Dad; he used to be the King of this place,” You nodded, twirling the ribbon in your hair as Rafe pushed the cart along, “I don’t think people expected me to come back.”

“Well, since you’re Dad is gone. I guess you’re the King now,” You flashed him a smile.

“Maybe so,” Rafe conceded.

“Oooh, look!” You pointed at something in the refrigerated section that caught your eye, and your feet were already moving towards it. As soon as you pulled open the glass door, you felt Rafe’s strong hands around your bicep, stopping you. You whipped back to see eyes narrowed at you and his serious face.

“You can’t just run away from me like that,” He snapped, “Jesus . . . don’t do that, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” You squeaked, “I just saw . . . they have so many types of iced coffee. They have peppermint, and caramel and mocha-”

“Coffee isn’t good for you.”

“You let me eat sweets all the time, and those aren’t good for me,” The words came out before you could stop them. You couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Rafe offered you the world, but at the same time, he controlled so many aspects of it.

You’d pissed him off; you could immediately see it in his face. His hand still on your arm, Rafe leaned closer to you, “You’re going to stand right next to the cart for the rest of the time we’re in here, and you’re not going to say another word, okay? I don’t want to hear it.”

You let the door go just as Rafe let your arm go. You crossed your arms, knowing you had no other choice than to keep your mouth closed. Rafe didn’t have much to say after that, and you let him brood on his own.

You were standing near the fresh produce; Rafe was picking out the vegetables that Lana had written on the grocery list when you saw a woman approaching your cart. She had caramel skin and pretty curls that were tamed by a messy bun on top of her head. She was holding a small shopping basket, but she didn’t seem to have any care for any of the items inside as she stomped closer to the two of you, red in her eyes.

“Rafe Cameron!” She didn’t seem even to perceive you as she stared Rafe down. You watched his reaction closely and how his contempt quickly switched from you to her.

“Kie, long time no see,” He didn’t express much emotion other than through his eyes, making him appear stoic.

The woman, Kie, didn’t hide any of her emotions, “I know what you did.”

“What’s that?” Rafe tilted his head.

“You know what exactly I’m talking about,” She pointed a finger at him, tears in her eyes, “Your day is coming–”

He proceeded to talk over her, “Hey, let your Mom and pops know Cameron Development is still interested in working with them. I have the perfect property for their next restaurant. I mean, an absolutely gorgeous spot.”

“Fuck you, Rafe,” You covered your mouth in shock.

“It was nice catching up with you too, Kie,” He winked as the woman walked away.

You watched as Rafe’s hands squeezed into a fist and then how tightly they wrapped around the cart’s handle.

“Daddy-”

“Let’s go, Bambi.”

“Rafe-”

“I didn’t want to hear it before; I definitely don’t want to hear your mouth now. Let’s go.”

You bit your tongue and fell back into step with him. You supposed a king couldn't be loved by all his subjects.

PART 6

Please reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think/predictions for the future!

#dark fic #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron #outer banks smut #barry outer banks #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe fanfiction #jj maybank #kiara carrera

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evera-era · 8 months

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my sweet girl.

ellie williams x afab!reader

warnings: friends to lovers, virgin reader, ellie has a praise + innocence kink, fingering, oral r!receiving, facesitting, fondling, lots of kissing, you talk her through it, fluff !!!!

a/n: kinktober week 2 is here! writing this had me feeling some typa way,, ellie would never admit it but she’s def a praise kink girly

Today was different. Not because you were doing anything out of the ordinary — because you weren’t. You were hanging out with your friend Ellie, as you usually did on the weekends.

But you noticed that you’d let your eyes linger on her for a bit too long. And she let her eyes linger on you, too. You wondered if she always did that; if you only noticed because you felt confident enough to stare a bit more today.

Truthfully, your crush on Ellie developed a while ago. You were almost sure that it was obvious, considering how easily you’d agree to her — on everything.

But Ellie didn’t seem to mind. Or maybe she just didn’t notice? Either way, she really liked your presence.

She made that apparent, albeit casual with it. Some days she showed up with a smile on her face and a movie tucked under her arm. Other times, she’d alter the schedule, sneakily pairing herself with you for patrols. If she noticed you at the pub, she’d greet you before handing you a freshly poured drink.

Ellie naturally gravitated to you. And you, her. Being around her just felt good. It was the sound of her voice that brought you back to the present.

“It’s nice out.” She murmurs, turning her head to the side to look at you. She was laying horizontally on your bed.

“Yeah,” You replied, leaning your head back against the headboard. “Should we go and do something?”

She presses her lips into a thin line, then shakes her head.

“Rather stay in here. With you.” She says calmly.

You smiled meekly. “Okay.”

You continued to doodle in her sketchbook. She let you borrow it sometimes, to practice your drawing. You’d tell her not to bother, that you’d never be nearly as good as she was. But she always insisted, and you accepted — at the least, she’d have something to remind her of you.

“Can I see?” She asks, noticing the way your sketch held your attention.

“It’s your sketchbook,” You joked, handing it to her.

She took it with gentle hands, holding it open so she could look at it properly. She flickered her eyes from the book to you. “This is good, Y/N.”

“I don’t know,” You sighed. “Just… a silly drawing.”

“Your drawings aren’t silly.” She responds. “I think it’s nice.”

You shrugged, looking down at your hands. She passes it back to you.

“Why don’t you tear it out when you’re done?” She says. “So you can put it up.”

“Here? In the room?” You say with furrowed brows. You didn’t realize it was kind of a dumb question until after.

Ellie nods. “C’mon, it’ll look nice. It is nice.”

You look down at her bashfully. “I feel like you’re lying.”

“Well… I’m not,” She states. “And if you don’t hang it up, then I will. At my place.”

Your eyes widen. You can feel your cheeks go warm as you tuck your hair behind your ear.

“You… you serious?” You ask.

“Do I look like I’m not?”

You felt your face blush even more. But you muster up the courage to slowly meet her gaze. Her eyes are set on you, and they don’t look away.

“You always look serious,” You comment, shyly.

“Yeah… that part’s true.” She says, looking down at your lap. “Still tryin’ to work on that.”

“It’s okay. I mean… I don’t mind how you look.” You cleared your throat, looking out the window. “You’re pretty, Ellie.”

Ellie could feel her heartbeat grow in her chest. Her gaze softens as she glances at you. Then she shifts to put her hands behind her head.

“You’re prettier,” She adds, kicking her foot. “You’re always… like, gentle, and stuff.”

“You don’t know that,” You say, grinning. “Maybe I’m just that way around you.”

“Oh yeah?” She smirks. “Guess I’m pretty lucky, huh?”

You giggled. “Only so far.”

The room gets quiet again. You swore that during times like these, you could hear her breathing.

“Can I ask you something?” She says, interrupting the silence.

You nodded, closing the sketchbook.

“Have you ever, like…” She sighs. “Dated anyone? Or did stuff?”

Your heart skips a beat at her question. Ellie had never asked about this kind of subject before. And you’d never expect it from her — she wasn’t the type to openly delve into gossip.

You fiddled your thumbs at the thought. Ellie must be quite curious.

“Dated, yeah.” You murmured. “Doing stuff… not really.”

“Oh.” She mumbles. “Is it just, like, not your thing… or…”

“No,” You sigh. “Moreso the person. I think I wanted to like them, but I didn’t really like them. They weren’t… a good match for me.”

Ellie nods. Another minute goes by before she looks back up at you.

“So, then… what’s a good match for you?”

You brought your knees up to your chest.

“It’s a secret,” You whisper playfully.

“Secret?” She feigns shock. “I thought we were being honest here!”

You laughed.

Deep down, you were scared to confess your feelings to Ellie. You didn’t wanna ruin a good thing. But she’s always been soft when it comes to you, so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Do you really wanna know?” You questioned after a minute, looking back over at her.

She raises her eyebrows. “I— I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, or anything—“

“I’m not uncomfortable, Ellie,” You say. “Just… nervous, to like, say it.”

She watches you carefully. She swallows firmly, then folds her bottom lip beneath her teeth.

“Well… I wouldn’t… judge you, if you told me, you know.” She says quietly. “I might judge the person, but… not you.”

“That doesn’t really help, in this case.” You exhale shakily. Her eyes widen as she tries to figure out what you mean.

“Because… I like you,” You admit. “And… I think we would be a good match, Ellie.”

It’s quiet for a moment. A stray gust of wind blows through the window, causing the sheer curtains to sway gently. You maintained eye contact with the brunette, awaiting her answer.

“Did…” She clears her throat. “Do you mean that?”

“Yes.” You reply. “I’ve had a crush on you for a long time, now.”

When she looks at you, her expression isn’t hardened. She’s studying you, tenderly. You can almost see a sliver of hope in her eyes.

Her eyes flutter as she tries to form a coherent sentence. “Um—“

“But you—“ You look off to the side, fearful of rejection. “You don’t have to say anything, Els.”

“No, I—“ Ellie huffs. “I’ve had a crush on you, too, Y/N. Since the first time we talked.”

Your breathing becomes shallow. You look over at her again; her eyes haven’t left your face.

“R-Really?”

She nods carefully, lifting her finger to scratch the tip of her ear. “I just, I didn’t think you felt the same way about me.”

You laugh under your breath. “How could I not?”

Ellie wrinkles her lips, bashfully. “I’m… not very lovely. Kinda just… me, y’know.”

You swing your legs over the side of the bed, so you were laying next to her in a similar position now. You rest your chin against your palm.

“I think you’re very lovely, Ellie.” You whisper. “And I like you a lot.”

She smiles, looking down at your lips. Her eyelashes flutter again. When her voice comes out, it’s like a whisper.

“Could… can I—“

“Yeah,” You cut her off, not even waiting to give her permission.

Ellie takes another moment to study your lips before propping herself up. At first she leaves her hands on the bed, but then she decides to cup the side of your face. She caresses your cheek with her thumb slowly — she wants to savor this moment — and listens to the sound of her heart beating.

She doesn’t want to close her eyes, but she thinks it’d be weird if she doesn’t, so she settles on doing so. Her nose brushes up against yours as her lips press gently against your own.

She kisses you like if she kisses any harder, you’d break. You can feel her holding her breath, trying to do it right. She pulls away after a few seconds.

“Was…” She exhales. “Was that okay?”

You nod, your lips spreading into a smile. “You don’t have to be afraid.”

“I know, I know.” She looks down at your lips again. “Just… didn’t wanna fuck it up.”

“You can’t fuck up a kiss,” You reply. “Unless… wait, is this your first time?”

“No— shit, did it seem like it?” She asks with wide eyes.

“No, no.” You giggle. “But you’re so nervous, I—“

“‘Cause— you— you’re so fucking pretty,” She retorts, facepalming as she blushes. “It’s hard.”

You bite your lip, tucking a stray piece of her away from her face. “Then do it again.”

Her eyes light up. “Yeah?”

“As many times as you want,” You murmur. “Why not?”

Ellie could feel warmth swell in her chest. This is why she loved being around you. You never made her feel bad for being the way she is. And yet, you somehow gave her the encouragement that made her feel like she could do anything in the world.

She doesn’t talk this time. Merely takes a breath, then leans in. She kisses you slow, taking the time to actually feel your lips. They were soft and sweet, just like you. Ellie swears she could stay right here forever.

When she pulls away, she keeps her eyes closed as she steadies her breathing. “Better?”

“Yeah,” You reply. “Let’s do it some more.”

If you had opened your eyes, you would have seen the way Ellie looked at you before you grabbed her face. But you didn’t, and she’s thankful, because she’s frozen in place for the first few seconds.

You had your hands in her hair as you pulled her top lip between yours. The tiniest moan escapes from her throat as she tries her best to re-focus and kiss you back. After a moment, she pulls away by a centimeter, then turns her head to the other side.

The two of you kiss several more times before she draws back. You look at her with expectant eyes.

“I—“ She stutters. “I’ve gotta… if we keep going, I’m not gonna wanna stop.”

“So don’t,” You explain, leaning to kiss her again. She pulls away.

“No, I mean…” Her face flushes even more. “God, this is so fucking embarrassing.”

At first you’re confused, but when your eyes flash down, you realize what she meant. Her nipples are poking through her shirt. She has her hands pulling at her button-up, trying to cover them.

You gently grab her wrists.

“Hey, it’s okay—“

“It’s not,” She insists. “I… I feel like a fuckin’ pervert. It’s only a fucking kiss, and I’m getting turned on—“

“Ellie—“

“I’m ruining it—“

“Ellie.” You say sternly, holding her hands still. “You’re not ruining anything, okay? It’s fine. If… if that’s what your body’s telling you, then…”

She watches you deliberately. “Then what?”

“Then… we could try it,” You whisper. “If you want.”

“Wh—“ She stutters. “But, what do you want? I don’t want you to feel like I’m going too fast—“

“I’m fine, Ellie. Promise.” You say. “I wanna try it, too.”

A damp spot began to form in Ellie’s underwear. She was so careful not to come on too strong, and here you were, practically begging her to take you all the way. She was shocked. Her head felt like it was spinning.

“You… you want me to be your first?”

You nodded.

“I— I don’t know if I can do that.” She blinks a few times before clarifying herself. “Not that I don’t want to — I really, really fucking want to — but I just, I don’t know if I’m gonna be good enough for you.”

“You’re already good enough for me,” You mumble, staring at her lips again.

“I mean it, Y/N, I—“ She sighs. “I don’t want your first time to be any less than perfect.”

“And it won’t be, as long as it’s with you.” You stroke her shoulder. “I… I want this, Ellie.”

She stares at you, still concerned.

“And even still, I’ll totally show you. I… I can tell you what feels good.”

After hearing you say that, Ellie swears her panties become a pool. She never thought about this before. She never thought about you telling her how to please you. Letting her know when she’s doing you right, and hitting the right spot. She can only imagine how pretty your voice would sound as she’s tongue deep in your cu—

“Ellie?” You say, bringing her out of her head. “If you changed your mind—“

“No, I—“ She places her hand on the back of your neck. “I’d never. I was just thinking.”

You smile. “Okay. Well, I’m right here, when you wanna start doing instead of thinking.”

She smirks to herself, nodding before removing her button up and tossing it on the floor. She’s wearing a black undershirt underneath, which fit tight around her upper arms. You resist the urge to whistle lowly.

“Lookin’ good, Els.”

She grins sheepishly. “I guess.”

Her hair droops down into her face as she slowly gets on top of you.

“Should’ve gotten a hair tie.”

“I’ll hold it for you,” You say, quickly moving your hands up to hold her hair back.

She leans down, grinning into your lips. “Thanks.”

She’s more confident when she kisses you this time. For the first few, it’s close-lipped, and then she feels the urge to explore. She swipes her tongue across your lower lip, and you copy her. She takes it as an invitation into your mouth, and she quickly begins toying with your tongue.

You vocalize a moan, which comes out awkwardly muffled. But Ellie didn’t care. She liked where this was going.

She uses her thumb to pull your mouth open even more. Her kissing becomes desperate, as if she needed you to breathe. You struggled to fully hold her hair as her movements became more passionate, but you tried anyway.

When she pulls away, a small string of spit connects the two of you. She emits a low groan at the sight.

“Fuck,” She whispers. “You’re so pretty like this.”

You look up at her with lustful eyes. “Can you take my clothes off?”

She stares at you before complying, gently pulling your shirt over your head. Her hands trail down the front of your body before hooking under your pant loop and pulling down. You decide to help her when it came to removing your panties.

When she’s done undressing you, she takes the time to fully look at the sight before her. Your bare body was glistening under the fading sunlight. She never thought she’d get the chance to see you under her, much less naked.

“You too,” You add, gesturing to her tank top. She nods before disrobing as well.

She looks down at your body. “Do you want—“

“Ellie,” You interrupt, reaching up to fondle her. Her breasts were perky, and her nipples a pale shade of pink. You eventually slide your hands down onto her hips. “You’ve been hiding all this beauty the whole time?”

She blushes again, speechless from your sudden compliment.

“God.” You whisper. “Ellie, you— your body… it’s stunning.”

Any previous train of thought is cleared from Ellie’s mind. She has no idea what to think or say, or even how to speak, for that matter. All she knows is that, if she’s not careful, she might cum from your words alone.

So she leans down instead, pressing her nose to your chest. She inhales your scent before tilting up and wrapping her lips around your breast. If she was honest, she didn’t want just your nipple — she wants to consume it all. Her other hand massages your other tit.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you gently pulled on her scalp. The sensations she’s giving you made you gasp, thighs pressing together on their own.

She eventually switches over to the other side, and does the same thing. This time, she flits her green eyes up at you, carefully watching the faces you make. She drags her free hand down from the side of your breast to your waist, squeezing gently.

“Everything okay?” She whispers.

“Y-Yeah,” You whimper, looking down at her. “That felt really nice.”

She pulls away, leaning forward for one more kiss.

“Can I go down on you?” She asks quietly.

You hum in agreement, and she grins. She brings herself down til her face is just below your bellybutton.

“Smells so good,” She says, placing a small kiss on your pelvis. You prop yourself up against your elbows so you can get a better view looking down.

“I’m gonna lick it a bit,” She says softly. “Wanna know if it feels good.”

“Okay,” You grin.

The first stroke of her tongue is drawn out, almost painfully so. Your mouth watered. You craved the stimulation so bad, it was hard to remind yourself to be patient. But you knew Ellie had more experience than you, so it’s not worth rushing.

The licks after begin feeling much better against your skin. Ellie moaned a few times into your pussy, each noise making you gently rock yourself down against her mouth.

“Fuck—“

She pulls back, only by a centimeter. “Tastes like heaven.”

“Your tongue feels like heaven,” You reply. “It’s— it’s amazing—“

When she goes back in again, she begins to try different techniques. She creates a suction on your cunt while flicking her tongue against your clit. She also just kisses it, making out with it like she’d make out with you.

You told her you’d give her advice and yet, she didn’t need any. Everything she did just felt so fucking good.

“S’ good.” You drawl, rubbing your thigh against the side of her neck. “Want your tongue down there forever.”

Ellie’s own cunt throbs as she hears those words. She hums gently into your pussy, kissing it for a few more minutes before looking up at you.

“What else do you wanna try?”

You look around for a moment. “I— I was… well, I don’t know if you’d wanna.”

“Wanna what, baby?” She asks. “Tell me.”

“Could…” You sigh. “Could I sit on your face? You know what I mean, right? Not actually sit, but—“

She chuckles a bit. “Yeah, I know. But you could just sit on it, too.”

Ellie flips over so she’s on her back. You lean forward and crawl to where she is before scrunching your lips. “What if you couldn’t breathe?”

“Then I’d die happy,” She replies, giving two light taps on your ass. You take it as a signal to lower yourself down on her.

Something about having you on top of her flips a switch in Ellie. She begins absolutely devouring you like Thanksgiving dinner, arms caging you in so you can’t move away.

“Holy shit,” You grunt. Ellie continues to lap up your juices, licking and sucking them down.

You run your fingers through her sweaty hair. “Mm— fuck. That’s so good, Els. Feels so fuckin’ good.”

Ellie’s losing her mind at the praise. Her hand absentmindedly falls between her legs. She’s needy in the way she fingers her pussy, before getting an idea.

She reaches up and grabs your hand, then gently guides it towards her slick cunt. Unsure of what to do, you begin rubbing circles. It seems to work — Ellie’s breathing becomes heavier and heavier as she continues eating you out.

While Ellie sucks on your clit, you form a rhythm on hers. You try to stay consistent, but it’s hard to focus. You can feel a ball of pressure forming deep in your tummy.

“Ellie,” You groan out, using your other hand to stabilize yourself for support. “I— I think you might make me cum.”

Unconsciously, you grind down on Ellie’s tongue. Your hand remains on her clit as she reaches down and begins pumping her fingers in and out of her hole.

“Cum for me, baby.” She mumbles against your cunt. “Wanna taste it.”

“Yeah?” You whine.

You weren’t sure what made you say your next words, or where it even came from, but it comes out while you’re riding her face.

“Gonna— gonna be a good girl ‘nd make me cum?”

“Fuck, yes,” She grunts, palm tightening around your ass.

Hearing you talk like that instantly makes her a thousand times wetter. She begins sucking on your clit more ferociously as you move your hand to push your hair out of your face.

“So good— you’re makin’ me feel so good, Ellie.” You mewl, feeding her reaction to your words. “This pussy’s all for you. Nobody else.”

A guttural moan comes out from Ellie. You weren’t sure if the compliments were too much, or if she could breathe properly, but you noticed the way she was fingering herself became stronger and more sloppy.

She pulled you down into her mouth, eyes rolled back into her head while she continued to absolutely abuse your pussy with her tongue.

“Oh— J-Just like that,” You stutter. “Fuck— please— just like that, just like that—“

When you erupt on her tongue, you feel unsteady. Your thighs begin to shake uncontrollably as your face scrunches up in pleasure. But Ellie keeps a firm hold on you, relishing in the way you tremble under her touch. She gets off soon after, tightening and pulsing around her own two fingers.

She gets in a few more kisses with your pussy before speaking. “Shit, baby.”

You giggle, letting out a deep breath. “That was… really hot.”

“You’re really hot,” She says, looking up at you and planting one last kiss on your clit. You blush.

“Didn’t know what I was missing out on.” You murmur, climbing off of her. “I… I can’t believe I didn’t do this sooner.”

Ellie thinks for a moment before sitting up. She smiles. “I’m really glad you didn’t.”

“Me, too.” You reply.

You lean in once more, placing another kiss on her lips before turning her cheek and kissing her, there, too. Ellie grabs your hand and presses her lips to the back of it.

“My sweet girl.” She whispers. “I’m so glad I could make you mine.”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams smut #ellie x fem reader #tlou2 fanfic #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #ellie williams

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shepscapades · 7 months

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A break from our regularly scheduled programming: a DBHC Docm77 reference sheet!

This is something I’d like to do for all of the androids as I get more familiar with their designs and story, so I don’t know how long it’ll be until all of the androids are done, but for now, here’s a little bit of a peek into my thought process behind doc’s design! His never-before-seen Pre-Deviancy design was both incredibly fun and incredibly disorienting bc for real who is that man DBJCGHK but he’s also kinda fun to draw =w= So I may do some Beginning of S8 doodles or comics at some point for fun :3

#docm77 #dbhc #dbhc doc #hermitcraft dbh au #doc #art escapades #character reference sheet #I HOPE YOU LIKE HIM #don’t mind the subtle lore hints <3 #etho is currently done and tango is on the way so!! look forward to them at some point!! :3 #oh man this feels like it’s missing tags #OH WELL #dbhc art #dbhc ref

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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 2 months

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Half A Bed

No, this is not the "only one bed" trope I'm afraid, although if anyone has any ideas for a fic w that trope, do drop you ideas in the inbox!

Summary: You and Astarion share a bed

At this point, it has become a habit for Astarion to move and leave half his bed free for you to plop yourself on whenever you enter his tent, despite all his grumbling about needing to move from his comfortable position. You then accept the invitation and happily lie down next to him, stretching your arms above your head with a relaxed sigh.

Tonight, Astarion wraps his arms around you, nuzzling into your neck and deeply inhales your scent. He loves how you smell like him, bergamot filling his nose and he lets out a contented sigh. You exude a pleasant warmth as per usual, sharply contrasting his own cold body. He shifts a little so that you can wrap an arm around him, nestling him in a cocoon of your embrace. His cold slender finger draws random shapes on your stomach while he rests his head on your shoulder, enjoying the silence that has befallen his tent.

It wasn’t long ago when such silence would have made him uncomfortable, unsure of what to do, unsure of what you wanted to do, but you had explained yourself upon noticing his discomfort, telling him that sometimes you were just too tired to do anything but still wanted his company. He had agreed to allowing you to do that, despite his reservations about what he himself could do during that time but soon realised that you really didn’t mind what he did.

If he felt just as exhausted as you, he would simply lie next to you, cuddling in the bed. If he still had some energy to spend, he would play with your hair or trace doodles on your stomach. If he felt peckish, he would drink from your neck. The only thing he couldn’t quite bring himself to do was trance whilst you were still awake. He told himself it was because he wanted to watch over you, but in reality, it was because deep down, he still feared that one day you would leave him.

The comfortable silence washes over the both of you, save for the quiet sound of your breathing and the rustle of book pages as you read the book you had brought along with you.

You glance down to check on your vampire lover, a small smile on your face when you notice how relaxed he is and start running your hand through his hair with your free hand. He croons in response and leans into the rhythmic touch, letting the calm wash over him. Your smile only grows wider, a small chuckle slipping from your lips which causes Astarion to look up at you, eyebrows furrowed.

“What, may I ask, is so funny?”

“Nothing, Star. Don’t worry.” You press a kiss to his creased forehead. “Although, if you keep frowning like that, there will be permanent wrinkles on your forehead.”

“Excuse me? I am a vampire! Eternally young and beautiful, all thanks to my already handsome features from before I was turned.” He huffs, burrowing his face deeper into your shoulder.

“Mmhm, if you say so,” you hum, setting aside your book to fully focus on him. As you play with strands of his curly silver hair, he gives yet another exaggerated huff, wrapping his arms around you and lightly nips at your exposed shoulder. He gives you a pout as he has done many times before and at this point, you would think you’d be immune to it but something about the way he pouts makes your heart melt each and every time.

“Come here,” you groan, rolling over to wrap your arms around him. He grins, happily nuzzling into your shoulder and welcomes the familiar embrace, filled with warmth and love. He feels safest like this, knowing that whatever happens, he will always have you to return to, that you will always have his back just like he has yours. You’re also permanently warm, and while that was something you found annoying, Astarion thanked whoever it was that made you such. He never needed to worry about the cold, not when all he needed to do was snuggle against you whenever he started to get cold, or simply felt like it. Not once did you ever turn him down, and he doubted you would ever do so.

You bury your face into his soft curls, suppressing yet another chuckle when you hear him mutter something along the lines of being one of the most beautiful vampires in all of Faerun.

“My apologies, one of the most beautiful vampires in all of Faerun.” You snort.

“Apology accepted,” he crows, ego stroked.

You can’t help but laugh, holding him close and pressing more kisses to the top of his head.

“Simply calling you beautiful doesn’t do you justice, you know.” You ruffle his hair.

“Oh? Do go on, darling.” His eyes twinkle with amusement and happiness.

“You see,” you indulge him, “it’s really easy to call you beautiful because everyone does that, and the phrase ends up losing all meaning. Calling you…say…‘my entire world’ however, still holds a lot of meaning because nobody else calls you that.” You’re not sure why you’re being sappy tonight but you do know that you’re more than happy to give Astarion all the compliments in the world and more. He deserves at least that much.

Tears prick the edges of his eyes at your words and he quickly buries his tearing face in your shoulder, not wanting you to see how your words have affected him.

“It means everything, coming from you,” he whispers, the words struggling to leave his clogged up throat. He squeezes your hand tightly, hoping that the small gesture can convey everything he cannot say and from the look you give him, you’ve received the message.

He shifts to rest his head on your chest, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat and closes his eyes, letting the feeling he can’t qute describe wash over him. He sinks into the endless abyss of warmth that is you, barely aware of your arm moving to wrap around him to pull him closer but he likes the support that it brings. Even if he were to sink, he knows — no trusts — that you will be there to catch him. Maybe he could let his guard down for just a little while, a short respite from the exhausting day and trust that when he opens his eyes again, you’ll still be there, watching over him with that soft look in your eyes. You wouldn’t leave him when he’s at his most vulnerable, would you?

Ignoring the nagging feeling in his heart, he lets himself slip into a trance, lulled by the soothing sound of your heartbeat and the warmth of your body heat. It’s times like these where he misses being alive, he wishes he could feel his own heartbeat, feel the warmth of his body but when you still curl up against him even on the chilliest of nights, he thinks to himself that perhaps he is alright the way he is, with his cold undead body and sanguine hunger. You may have already told him such when he was confronted with the choice of ascending but while you may have accepted him as who he is, he still struggles with it from time to time. Doubts continue to claw at his thoughts, no matter how many times you drive them away, but if you will continue fighting against them for him, he will not give up.

Your heart flutters when you realise he’s drifting off into a trance. He subconsciously curls tighter into your side, fingers tightly grasping whatever they can reach.

“Rest well, my star.” You murmur, lips ghosting his forehead. It doesn’t take long for you to drift off as well, holding your world in your arms.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion x durge #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion romance #astarion ancunin #astarion fluff #astarion fanfic #astarion fic

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chiptrillino · 3 months

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Hi, I love your art sm! I have a question about your process; how do you get references for your art? Are you at the point where u don’t need them, or do u have a go to website? Or take photos yourself?

thank you! I explained my process a bit here in this ask LINK depending on the time and energy, i am pretty much at the point where i can figure out some poses by memory alone. but i need one first very crude sketch in order to like to have visuals about what i like to do? or how to pose the body. So: step 1. Crude sketch step 2. Redraw it properly (sometimes i can right away use the sketch for coloring) step 3. Proper line art for coloring (examples below)

(ID in ALT text)

i don't spend much time combing through the internet till i find the one pose i would like to draw now. i just start to doodle. see something i like. and then refine it. i look up images if i have trouble with some anatomy or i need some help with colors and pattern. but its then things like... "toothy smiles" "male torso with belly fat" "guy stretching nude" "long hair in water" "human skeleton with muscle" "underwater photoshoot" check out how it more or less works and then adapt it to the drawing i am working on. i have been drawing for over 15 years now. i have build up a bit of a visual library, and have reached the point that sometimes i see artworks and know which pinterest image was used as a reference because people stuck to only one photo of a model and basically redrew the original just with some refinement. nothing wrong with that just not something i do or at least avoid doing.

#chip!ask #chip!explais #chip!tutorial #not sure if this counts though...#zuko #ty lee #don't ask me for video recording i am awfully slow with these and my anexiety pumbels up into the sky #also i still have to figure out glace and nightshade but it takes forever to make tests with these....

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moonstruckme · 2 months

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Hi, I love your writing, I recently read your James Drabble about reader and James being domestic and reader eating all the blackberries. It gave off such summer comfort vibes, I was wondering if you would be able to write something with either James or Remus (you choose I love them both) and reader going to a farmers market or just laying in the summer sun while reader reads and maybe tracing lines on her back. I know I gave you a few ideas, but if you’re comfortable writing something, anything thing would be good, your writing’s always good.

Hope you’re having a lovely day :)

Thanks for requesting, hope you're having a lovely day too <3

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 794 words

The sun is warm on your back, beating off the white of your book’s pages so glaringly you’ve had to put on your sunglasses to read comfortably. The top you’re wearing is cut low in the back so you can soak in the rays, and you’ve laid a blanket down on the grass to do just that. James is meant to be running the trail around the park, but he’d announced his break twenty minutes ago to snack on the strawberries you’d bought at the farmers market and has somehow fallen into tracing shapes on your bare skin.

You’re pretending to still be immersed in your book, but it’s growing difficult.

“What are you doodling back there?” you ask him.

“Working on my cursive,” he says, drawing a loop next to your spine that makes you shiver despite the warm day. “My teachers were right, I lost the skill once I stopped practicing.”

“You’re writing? What are you saying?”

“Nonsense, really. But—hold on, I’ll try to write something and you tell me if you can understand what it says.”

You laugh. “Okay,” you say, but James presses a hand to your back to still you, shushing with mock seriousness.

“Shh, lovie, you’re shaking my canvas.”

You set your chin down on the blanket, giving up on reading and closing your eyes to decipher James’ messages.

His finger makes a couple of odd loops on your back, and you guess, “Do?”

“Yes!”

Another series of loops. They tickle as they get lower, and James tuts when you wriggle slightly.

“Wait,” you say, “I didn’t get that one.”

Your boyfriend sighs heavily. You think you can hear a smile in the sound. “Fine,” he says with great reluctance, “I’ll do it again, but please try to pay attention this time. I’m trying to ask you something urgent.”

You smile to yourself, but focus in as he traces the letters again.

“You?”

“There we go! Knew you could do it. Alright, stay with me…”

James makes it fairly easy on you. The majority of the words are short and simple, only a few letters. Do you want some…

You get stuck on the last one, making him repeat it a few times, slower and slower, until you guess, “Strawberries?”

“Finally.” James lets out a big breath, drooping forward so he’s laid across you with his chin digging into your back. “Angel, you know I love you, but I don’t think that was my cursive’s fault. I think you need to work on your reading comprehension skills.”

You roll your eyes. “How is asking me if I want strawberries urgent?”

“Because I’m about to finish them off.”

“Wait, actually?” James’ weight lifts off you as you push yourself up on your elbows, turning to see the container of strawberries you’d bought only an hour ago. It had been heaping then, but now there are only a handful left. “Jamie, really?”

He at least looks appropriately abashed. “You weren’t reaching for them,” he says, tanned shoulders creeping upwards, “and they’re really good! How much restraint am I expected to exercise here? I’ve left you five.”

“I haven’t been reaching for them because I don’t want to get my book sticky.” You pout, exaggerating your distress for what you know it’ll get you in return. “I didn’t expect them to all be gone by the time I was ready.”

“Aw, sweetheart, I could’ve helped you with that.” He picks up a strawberry by its stem, holding it out for you. “Here, open.”

You sigh but tip your mouth open obediently, biting off the tip. Sweet, slightly sun-warmed juice explodes into your mouth.

“That wasn’t hardly a bite at all,” James chides. “Have another.”

You do. “I’m beginning to resent you more now that I know how good these are,” you tell him. The sweet tang lingers on your taste buds even after you’ve swallowed. “We should only get our fruit from that vendor from now on.”

“They clearly know what they’re doing,” he agrees. He gives you another strawberry after the first is finished, musing while you crunch, “Come to think of it, I’m starting to suspect you only pretended not to know what I was writing so I’d give you a back massage.”

You laugh. The thought actually hadn’t occurred to you, though his touch had felt nice moving over your back. “Write me another message, and I’ll let you know.”

James swipes a finger up the length of your spine, laughing when you squirm at the odd tickle. “Would you like me to bring you a glass of lemonade while I’m at it?” he asks.

“Mm, that’s alright. We just need to find some palm fronds for you to fan me with, and I think I’ll be set.”

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ssavaart · 5 months

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Sometimes You Have to Make 100 BAD Drawings To Get 1 GOOD One

(Earlier this year, a publisher asked me if I'd be interested in writing a book on art. As we discussed it... they asked me to "give it a try" and this is one of two tests I did. I don't consider myself a writer, really, so this is just "in my own voice". I wound up turning down the offer... but would love to know your thoughts on this. Thanks)

Drawing something good. Something you like. It’s… elusive. Especially when you’re just starting out.

But, here’s the thing. You have good art in you. I promise. You just have to get to it and it’s stuck under a bunch of bad art. Really bad art.

When I was younger, I would draw every day. Filling up sketchbooks with doodles and sketches and I hated ALL of them.

Page 01: Crap

Page 02: Crap

Page 03: Crap

Page 04: Worse than Crap

Page 05: What even is that?

Page 06: Ugh

And it was just downhill from there…

But… somewhere around like page 100… I made something that… “wasn’t crap”. I actually didn’t hate it.

And that gave me courage to keep going. That one drawing made it all worth it. I was cured. I was now an expert. All of my art would be great from now on.

Oh… if only.

The next drawing was worse than any other drawing before it.

How??? I just made ART! like 5 minutes before that. I got all the bad drawings out! How did my art just go from Van Gogh to Van NO???

Honestly? I… got lucky. That one good drawing? Total fluke. Dumb luck. Sheer Happenstance.

Doing 100 drawings didn’t suddenly make me an expert. It couldn’t.

Have you ever heard of the saying “If a million monkeys type on a million typewriters for a million years, they’ll eventually write Shakespeare”?

I was those monkeys and that drawing was my Shakespeare.

I just pooped out enough bad art that eventually sheer luck was going to mean I may make something really good.

And I’m TOTALLY okay with that. I was 11. I’m not a prodigy. I don’t have any special gifts. But what I did have was… a taste for how making good art felt.

Seeing that one good drawing made me want more. Like my first time tasting chocolate ice cream. I was hooked.

So, I made 100 more bad drawings. Maybe more. And, guess what? ANOTHER great drawing emerged!

Another Shakespeare from this 11 year old monkey!!!! Huzzah!

From then on… I knew that all I had to do was keep banging away at that typewriter (I’m still on the million monkey thing… bear with me) and I would get rewarded with another masterpiece.

Week after week. Month after month. I would fill up my sketchbooks with the most horrific, amateurish, incomprehensible art… and, sure enough, 1 of every 100 drawings would not suck.

I would show it to my mom and she would say “Oh! That’s wonderful!” and when she tried to turn the pages to see more, I would quickly SNATCH it out of her hands and run back into the shadows like Gollum hiding his “Precious” from prying eyes.

I dare not let her see the monstrosities that came before the work of genius.

And… this went on. For years. Predictably. Rhythmically.

Until, one day… my 75th drawing was really good.

How? It was 25 drawings early! That’s not how it was supposed to work. That wasn’t the plan.

But there it was. A really amazing drawing of a spaceship I came up with out of my head. It had lasers and a cockpit and wings and…It was glorious. And it was totally unexpected.

Maybe NOW I was an expert and I no longer needed to make bad art? Would today be the day I would only make masterpieces?

I quickly turned the page and began to draw what would soon be my second greatest work of art and… NOPE.

Still crap.

Hm. But… something was different. It was still crap. But… it wasn’t as “crappy” as the other crap.

I grabbed my previous sketchbooks and looked at the bad drawings from previous years and… guess what? My older bad drawings were WORSE than my newer bad drawings!

Apparently, the more I drew… the better my BAD drawings got too.

Okay. So. I drew 75 more “not as crappy” bad drawings and… predictably… I made another great drawing!

I was… IMPROVING.

This went on for years. I went to high school. Then art school. I hated MOST of my art… but as I practiced… the number of BAD art I had to make to get to the GOOD art got lower and lower. Soon it was 50 bad pieces for 1 good one. Then 25. Then 10.

It took decades when I noticed… I liked my art more often than not.

It was a complete surprise. I was in my 40’s when this happened. I was SO conditioned to just accept I was going to hate my art that I hadn’t noticed that I had made 5 paintings that didn’t suck. IN A ROW!!!

Unheard of!

But, there it was. 5 good paintings. One right after the other.

The 6th one was complete trash. Tossed it in the garbage.

But, the 7th one? I liked. And the 8th. And the 9th.

I’m now 54 and I know I still have SO much bad art in me. I can feel it. Always ready to pop up and ruin my day.

But, I “pooped out” so much bad art over the years that I’m not really worried about those pop up bad art surprises. I know it’s just temporary.

I like my art now. And that’s because I got MOST of the bad art out of me and into those old sketchbooks.

I know it may seem daunting doing 100 bad drawings just to get to 1 good one. But… if you love that feeling of making that one GOOD piece of art… you need to be patient and get the bad ones out. They’re blocking the good ones. Keeping them deep inside you.

So, crack open that sketchbook. Poop out those bad pieces of art and never look back.

You’ll thank me in like 40 years or so. I promise.

(Oh. And sorry for all the poop references. I’m still that 11 year old when it comes to humor)

Poop.

#making art #creativity #artists #creating #art advice

681 notes · View notes

impishjesters · 7 months

Note

I have this idea floating around in my brain for a while about a reader who likes to draw and because they have a crush on Jax they draw him. Jax eventually steals their notebook and probably teases them about it lol.

Jax x Crushing!Reader

warning(s): innuendos, bullying/teasing, Jax note(s): Look it's me and Jax, there's gonna be innuendos or some spicy wording and bullying. It's like a packaged deal or something. A/N: If you see me mixing Angel Dust's speech into Jax, no you didn't. If you didn't notice, I don't know how to tease and not be an asshole, so pretty on the brand I guess.

Caine had given you a sketchbook upon request, it was a little different than an actual sketchbook but it did the job regardless. Ever since your arrival, your fingers have been itching to draw, there were so many new sights and so much new inspiration.

There were so many things, so why did it seem like the doodles of Jax ended up on almost every page?

Easy, you had a crush on the apathetic, mischievous jerk named Jax.

Why? Well, now that’s the million-dollar question. He’s not inherently awful, no, that’s a lie, he’s an asshole. You don’t really have a good read on him yet but he’s funny! That’s gotta be redeemable, right? However, his jokes are usually backhanded and often involve being mean at the expense of others.

Okay so he’s a walking red flag but there’s something about him that has you crushing on the purple bastard.

Looking down at the sketchbook on your lap shows another two pages filled with sketches of random things, though most of the page is filled with Jax. You had taken to sketching things back in the real world to remind yourself of home, but eventually, those sketches would involve Jax doing mundane things.

Thing’s like sitting at a table eating real food, though you took creative measures when drawing an open mouth on him, it still looked off but it was serene and domestic. Then there’s the little sketch at the bottom of the page of Jax leaning against a window and staring outside. You’d manage to nab the pose and angle when he was leaning against one of the many random geometrical-shaped things in the main room and later added in a window.

It was embarrassing that almost more than half of the pages in the book involved Jax to some degree. Some pages weren’t even subtle, the whole page taking up a detailed portrait version of the male. Sometimes you even got creative and put him in different clothing.

Thumbing through the pages you saw there weren’t that many empty pages left. You’d need to ask Caine for another one and figure out what to do with this one. It couldn’t be left out in the open, you knew Jax had keys to everyone’s room and wouldn’t put it past him to go snooping. He’d already questioned you about the sketchbook before.

You’d been so focused on the sketchbook that you hadn’t noticed the man of the hour walking up. Jax noticed your intense focus and peeked over to see the infamous sketchbook on your lap, and with practiced ease managed to yoink it right off your lap.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? You finally showing me what you keep your nose buried into?”

A yelp left you, stumbling to get on your feet you rushed to him and began swatting at the book and of course, he’d keep raising it just out of reach. “You took it! I didn’t say you could look at that!”

“Nah, pretty sure you said I could look at it.” He continued to lower and raise the book as you jumped to grab it. Sure he was curious before, but with a reaction like that? How could he not be even more curious? What kind of seedy shit were you drawing? Or perhaps some spicy nonfamily-friendly content?

Jax ignored your frantic words and opened the book to a random page, he was going to tease you about whatever dumb stuff you drew since you always had your nose in it but all he saw were sketches of himself.

A normal person might get embarrassed and hand the book back, but he’s not a normal person. It’s a little freaky, he won’t lie. A glance downwards shows him you’ve gone silent in front of him, simply staring down while he invades the privacy that was your sketchbook.

Your face is red and you look like you’re going to cry any second.

He’s a jerk, he was going to fuck with you, and he still is, but for the moment he’s taking in all the creative little pieces involving his face. Ya know, he never really thought much about how he’d look in other clothes. Gotta say he looks pretty snazzy in something that isn’t these shitty overalls.

“You know if I didn’t know any better,” his fingers still flip through the pages as he steps closer, circling you. “I’d say you like me.”

“I don’t.”

The reply is rushed and he rolls his eyes at the blatant lie, he’ll humor you this time. “Oh yeah? Does that mean you’ve got sketchbooks for everyone else too? Cause I’m pretty sure this is the only one I’ve seen you with.” He taps a doodle on the cover that gives away it’s the same notebook he always sees you with.

Tears trickled down your cheeks, you knew he was a jerk but this felt like too much. You just wanted your sketchbook back and to run away to your room, maybe pin something in front of the door that would render even the key useless.

His eyes roll the second he sees a tear, he’s not really seeing the problem here. You’ve got a book full of creepy—okay not completely creepy, he’s a good model so good on you for seeing that—sketches of him and he’s truthfully honored. It’s clear that you didn’t do this with everyone, so he’s honored to be your little model. Besides, it’s not like you actually have a crush on him, right?

Minutes tick by of him simply eyeing you, you’re still crying and it’s starting to get a little ugly and snotty, ugh. But you aren’t trying to further deny his little comment about you liking him. He’ll have to have a little talk about that later, what you could possibly see in him because he knows that you aren’t a sadist—oh, are you a masochist? That’d explain a lot.

Jax sighs and closes the book but doesn’t hand it over, simply putting the free hand on his hip. “You know if you wanted to see my face all you gotta do is ask. I’ll gladly show you this handsome face any day toots.”

Of all the things you thought he’d say, that wasn’t it. “H-huh..?” You embarrassingly wipe away the tears and snot before looking up at him.

“You heard me. Ya know I love this face too, very handsome. Maybe we can get Caine to put up some artwork in the tent of yours truly.” Jax wouldn’t consider himself vain, but you did have a way of making him look more, dare he say, attractive.

“I-I don’t… I don’t understand…” Was he still making fun of you?

He rolls his eyes before playfully hitting your head with the book. “Jeez, and here I thought you were smart.” Jax leaned over like he was speaking to a child and pushed the book to your chest. “I’m saying, the next time you wanna draw me I’ll give you a front-row seat. Maybe even take it to the bedroom so we won’t be disturbed.”

You push the book into his face to cover up that growing smirk and blush furiously. “Wh-what?! N-no I-I don’t…!” It’s hard to tell if he’s being serious or not in his offer to model for you, especially with the bedroom comment.

“C’mon, clearly you got taste. I mean that book is filled with sketches of me. I’ll commend you on your immaculate taste.” Jax taps the book before playfully bopping your nose. “At least let me give you the pleasure of seeing me close up. I’ve never been a model before so you might have to get a little hands-on to get me the way you want me.”

As the innuendos continue your face feels like it’s getting impossibly red and warm. Somehow this is worse than him telling you a sketchbook full of his face is creepy, in fact, you’d almost prefer it because your poor little heart can’t take anymore. You let out a yell and it stops his tangent but that stupid smirk of his never disappears.

“Offer still stands. You know where to find me.” Jax turns away but not before throwing a little wink over his shoulder. He still plans on pestering you about what you see in him, but for now, he’ll cut you some slack. You’re about as red as Ragatha’s hair and as much as he loves to see it, he didn’t plan to get this sidetracked when he saw you on your own.

He’s got a sucker to prank.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus x reader #jax #jax x reader #tadc jax

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creative-caramel-coffee · 1 month

Text

The Spiders Sister - Chapter 3

Summary: Reader meets the team.

Tw: mentions of sickness, teasing

Words: 2.8K

A/n: Thanks for all the support this series has been getting :) If anyone has any suggestions for things that could happen in this series lemme know and I’ll see what I think. No smut though I don’t write that here.

The next day you woke to knocking on the bedroom door. Sitting up in bed you quietly called for whoever it was to enter.

A moment later Wanda poked her head through the door. Seeing you awake or at least semi-awake she slipped through the small space she had created.

“Good morning.” She smiled coming to sit beside you on the bed. “Did you sleep well?” She asked pressed her hand to your forehead.

“Mmm.” You hummed still half asleep.

“You don’t feel warm anymore.” She smiled at this achievement as if she was proud of you. “How are you feeling today?” She asked moving her hands to rest in her lap again.

“Tired, but that’s probably because I just woke up.” You smiled.

“Nat sent me to wake you up. She wanted to know if your well enough to meet the others today.” Wanda explained looking slightly guilty.

“I mean, I’m game if you are. Where’s Nat?” You asked coving a yawn.

“Nat’s training with steve. And not so fast, I want to know more about how you're feeling. No more headache? Cough? Wheezing? Give me something.” She grinned.

“My headaches gone, no more cough, maybe a slight wheeze I’m not too sure.” You begun and Wanda’s brow furrowed slightly at the mention of your wheezing. “I’m like ninety-nine percent sure my fever is gone, and I feel pretty good all things aside.” You finished.

“That’s good. Maybe keep your inhaler on you today just in case. And after the meeting I’ll see if I can get Bruce to give us a few spares, just in case.” Wanda said softly.

“You really don’t have to.” You said shyly toying with a loose thread on the sheets.

“Its no problem. I would make me feel better. Breathing is important.” Wanda teased easing your concerns.

“So, when’s the meeting?” You asked.

“Well, I think Nat wanted to do it as soon as possible. Like straight after training and then I’m going to make you some pancakes for brunch.” Wanda said poking your side. “But for now, hop up, get dressed and I’ll be back soon to show you where the meeting room is.” Wanda said, standing up and heading for the door.

Once wanda had left, probably to go and find Nat to call the meeting, you crawled out of bed. Rifling through your backpack you changed out your sleepshirt and shorts for a pair of black track pants and a pale-yellow t-shirt. Throwing on some goofy socks and lacing up your black converse high tops you braided your hair sat in front of the mirror and threw on some deodorant.

Once you were ready and had been to the bathroom to wash your face and go through your morning routine, you sat at peters desk.

Picking up your backpack you went through it until finding what you were looking for.

Pulling out the black sketchbook you opened it to a fresh page and began mindlessly doodling things you could see around peters room and the cityscape beyond the open curtains.

Just as you were getting into the details of the New York skyline you heard a knock on the door.

Lowering your pencil, you sat a little straighter.

“Come in.” You called your voice sounding better than it had in days. And surprisingly good for someone who had spent hours coughing and wheezing for days on end.

Wanda opened the door and smiled seeing you up and about for the first time.

“You look much better.” She commented coming to stand by your shoulder. “Wow, you’re an amazing artist.” She smiled looking at your drawings.

“Oh, um … thanks.” You smiled still a little awkward when it came to compliments. “So, what’s the news?” You asked.

“Hmm? Oh, yes.” Wanda said looking up from where she had been inspecting your sketchbook. “Nat called Fury. He’s kinda the boss. He’s given the go ahead if steve and tony sign off on it. Nat then called a meeting and I’m going to bring you to the room where you're going to meet the team.” She explained.

“I have two questions.” You said.

“Shoot.” Wanda said pulling you up and gesturing to follow her out the door.

“One, is peter going to be at this meeting?” You asked as Wanda lead you down some seemingly endless corridors.

“Yes.” Wanda nodded, pressing the button to call the lift.

“And two, this Fury guy said yes? Just like that?” You asked sounding slightly confused.

“Yes and no.” Wanda begun, stepping onto the lift with you beside her. “Nat asked Jarvis, Tony’s AI assistant to pull up all CCTV footage of spider-man and separate footage based on bio-signatures. So, she could differentiate between when it was peter and when it was you in the suit. She sent Fury the files and after he reviewed them, he approved you a place on the team. If you want it and the others agree.” Wanda explained.

“Okay.” You said slowly. “Seems like a good plan.” You smiled.

And the lift dinged softly as it slowed to a stop.

“This is us.” Wanda said and you followed her out of the open doors. Walking beside her down a hallway she stopped in front of a door and paused to look at you. “You ready?” She asked, her hand on the door handle.

“Yep.” You nodded swollowing down your nerves. “Ready as I’ll even be.”

“You’ll be great. Just be yourself and they’ll love you.” Wanda said and pushed the door open.

Nat was stood at the head of the table, a screen behind her queued up with spider-man videos. She smiled at you and wanda as the rest of the people turned to face you.

Seeing the people you had only ever seen on Tv in real life was a little overwhelming at first but wanda squeezed your hand and lead you into the room to stand at the front with her and Nat.

Peter smiled at you from where he was sat beside Tony. Looking proud of you just for standing in front of the avengers.

You stood there silent for a second simply making eye contact with your shoes before Natasha spoke up.

“This is Y/n.” Nat begun, and you gave a small half wave with an awkward smile. Tony was staring you down with an unreadable expression. He looked like he was analysing your face mentally. Most likely already having connected you to Peter.

“Hi I’m Y/n Parker.” You said lifting your eyes to meet a few smiling faces around the room a fair few of them sporting shocked looks.

“Parker?” Tony echoed sounding smaller than you had ever heard from his times on Tv.

“Y/n Parker is Peters sister.” Wanda explained.

“Kid?” Tony looked hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me there were two of you?” He asked looking sad.

Peter looked slightly sick at the open disappointment his mentor was showing right now and so you stepped in before peter had a panic attack.

“Mr Stark, Sir, it was my decision to keep myself out of the spotlight. And to do that I needed to maintain a low profile. Which is harder to do when the avengers know of your existence. No offence.” You explained. And the team exchanged a few glances as they noted how you had come to Peter’s aid almost immediately.

“That’s alright, I’m sure Pete will open up now you’re here.” Tony said with a grin as he ruffled Peters hair, “Won’t-cha kiddo?” He asked with his usual charismatic charm and Peter gave a small nod and smile while he ducked his head not liking the attention.

“So, anyone have anymore questions?” You asked drawing the attention off of Peter once more much to your brothers' relief.

Looking away from the small smile he sent you as thanks you laughed, seeing every hand in the room up with a question for you, bar Nat, Peter and Wanda of course.

You looked to your left and nodded to Steve.

“Hi, nice to meet you kid.” Steve said. “I have a question though, if Peter’s identity is secret, why did you need to stay away from us?” He asked looking confused, and his statement drew a few nods around the room.

“If Tony scares you honey, I can assure you that the man would forget his own shoes without me.” Someone you recognised as Pepper Potts said with a smile causing Tony to grumble to himself. How Nat had managed to wrangle the CEO of Stark industries into this meeting you didn’t know.

Little did you know that all it took was ‘There’s something you should know, it has to do with Peter’ and she was on her way.

“Actually,” Wanda said drawing the gaze of the room to her, “This should explain it. Jarvis play the video.” She said and the lights dimmed as the Tv showed a compilation of some of your best moves in the spider-suit.

When the video ended the lights retuned to their normal brightness and everyone still looked confused.

“How exactly does a compilation of Peter doing tricks explain that?” Bruce asked.

“Um…” You said looking slightly nervous. “That was me.” You said in a small voice and the room was silent for a second.

“Sick moves kid. Peter your sister’s awesome.” Sam said and a few people laughed at his perfect comedic timing.

“Prove it.” Tony said and you paled slightly.

“Tony.” Pepper said placing her hand on his arm and shooting him a look.

“No, its ok pepper.” Nat said. “Jarvis?” Nat called to the ceiling. “Was that peter in the suit for those videos?” She asked.

“The height and weight as well as body stature and proportions do not match Master Parker.” Jarvis said.

“Ok,” Nat continued, “Who do those body descriptors match in this room?” She asked.

“The person in the suit does match the body of Miss Parker.” Jarvis said and Tony frowned.

“Do the sticky thing.” Bucky called drawing a few smiles. You rolled your eyes and put a hand up, splaying your fingers before jumping in the air and touching the ceiling where you stayed stuck.

“Crawl around.” Sam said and you glared at his heckling.

“No.” You said and you saw Peter doing his puppy eyes at you. “Fine.” You sighed.

Jumping up you did a flip and stuck your legs out, now standing on the ceiling upside down and making eye contact with Sam before looking to Bucky.

“Better?” You asked sarcastically.

“Much.” Sam grinned and you rolled your eyes again.

“Ok. Get down Y/n.” Nat said sounding part annoyed part amused at the display.

“Yes ma’am.” You said before detaching from the roof and doing a flip to landing back where you were before.

“Show off.” Peter murmured under his breath and you huffed a small laugh as his ears went red, not having expected you to hear him. Dumb super-hearing.

“Well, now we’re done with the party tricks. What are we thinking?” You asked brushing off invisible dirt from your clothes.

“Well…” Tony said. “I think its time you got your own suit.” He grinned and you smiled back. “What colours do you want kiddo?” He asked.

“Um… maybe something like purple, white and red?” You said and he nodded already sketching down ideas on a pad of paper pepper had brought with her from a meeting.

“You’re also getting an AI.” Tony added and you looked a peter who simply smiled proudly of you.

“Well, if that’s everything Y/n’s also gonna need a room.” Wanda said and Tony nodded.

“There’s a spare room on Natasha and Wanda’s floor if you want to move in with the girls. Do I need to send some movers to grab your things?” Tony asked and you looked at your shoes and shook your head.

“Not much to move.” You mumbled.

“Y/n’s apartment was taken out in the last battle. She’s been hiding out in Peter’s room for now. That’s how we met actually.” Natasha said shooting you a reassuring smile.

“Well, it sounds like I’m going to be funding yet another shopping trip.” Tony sighed and Wanda grinned at you mischievously.

“We’ll make it a girl's day.” Wanda said shooting a look at pepper.

“I’d love to.” Pepper agreed and Nat clapped her hands together.

“Alright then.” The assassin said. “I should probably tell Fury we have another spider on the team.” Nat grinned and you smiled at her.

“Great, now we have three spiders.” Tony said rolling his eyes and ducking as Pepper aimed a pretty good swing to the back of his head.

“Knock it off Tony, don’t act like you're not secretly overjoyed to have another Parker around.” Pepper said.

“Just wondering,” Bruce said looking mildly nervous as the room turned to look at him.

“Yes?” You prompted him to continue.

“Are you…” He begun before pausing, “I guess theres no real nice way to put it.” Bruce said and Tony jumped in.

“I think Brucie-bear wants to know if you come with the Parker Brain Package.” Tony said and Pepper glared at him.

“Tony.” She warned, glaring at him while you cleared your throat.

“If you’re asking about how smart I am, let’s just say I designed the original prototype for the web-shooters and chemical makeup of the fluid.” You said and Tony nodded seemingly satisfied with that small tidbit of information for now.

“Well, if nobody had anything else to say, Wanda and I are going to take Y/n for a tour of the compound.” Nat said before turning to look at Clint. “And you, have to make dinner. You lost our bet.” Nat said and then dragged you and Wanda out of the room by your sleeves.

After a very long and very comprehensive tour by Natasha and Wanda, you were shown back to the communal kitchen where most of the team ate together when they weren’t on missions.

You walked into the dining room attached to the kitchen to be hit with the smell of burnt food pungent in the air.

You looked at Nat confused, and she grinned as she heard cursing coming from the kitchen. Wanda looked like she was itching to go help but sad she pulled away Nat grabbed her sleeve at the very last second to hold her back.

“Can someone explain whats going on for me?” You asked.

“Well, Clint and Natasha can’t cook if their lives depended on it.” Wanda begun, only to shush Nat when she went to speak up. “So naturally they made a bet, loser had to cook the team dinner, naturally Clint lost so Nat is enjoying his public humiliation. And I normally cook if we aren’t getting takeout so it's causing me pain to hear whats going on in there.”

“Oh, calm down. Clints not blowing anything up.” Nat said rolling her eyes as Wanda shot her a look. “Ok that was one time.” Nat amended.

Not twenty minutes later you were sat at a table with the avengers with a plate of very burnt stake and watery mash potatoes.

“What is it?” Tony asked poking his steak.

Clint grinned. “A masterpiece.” He said.

“More like a mistake.” Nat muttered judging her steak while poking it with her knife as if she was expecting it to start moving of its own accord.

“I say we have newbie try it.” Tony posed and you rolled your eyes.

Cutting off a piece of the very tough steak with your knife you raised it to your lips and put it in your mouth.

It was tough and kind of disgusting. But you smiled anyway.

Finding the meat tougher than you had been expecting, you made the switch as you called you fangs up. Your canines sharpened as you chewed managing to decimate the meat. Swallowing you looked at Clint.

“Not the worst thing I’ve every eaten.” You said with a smirk and Tony who had been watching you closely squeaked.

“Jeez kid you didn’t tell me your sister was a vampire.” Tony said turning to Peter.

By this point most of they eyes were on you, so you hid your teeth and retracted the fangs out of embarrassment.

“She’s not. It’s a spider thing she got.” Peter said coming yo your defence.

“Either way her new name is fangs.” Tony said with a grin.

This time you glared at him.

“For the record i think they’re awesome.” Wanda said sensing your embarrassment.

“Seconded.” Nat said her spy training honing in on your body language to see you were insecure about it.

“I gotta admit it’s a cool trick doll.” Bucky said.

“Pretty neat.” Steve agreed with a smile.

“Badass.” Sam nodded flicking a still frozen pea at Bucky. “Alright, now that y/n probably has food poisoning, who wants pizza?” Nat asked with a grin. Cheers came from all sides of the table as Clint slumped dejectedly in his seat.

PART 4

337 notes · View notes

harryspet · 5 months

Text

bambi eyes (3) r. cameron

word count: 3.4k

In which you do your best to deal with your Daddy's mood swings.

main masterlist

bambi eyes masterlist

You felt like you were seeing Rafe less and less as the next two weeks went on. He was stressed about what was going on with work. He often paced back and forth in front of you, ranting, although he was never specific about the details of what was going on.

You noticed that he grabbed you tighter, pushed you harder into the mattress, and talked less during sex whenever something outside was affecting him. You were starting to accept it; it never hurt too much, and you’d be more scared if he weren’t interested in you in that way. If he didn’t want to be intimate with you, then there was a chance he wouldn’t want you anymore.

As much as Rafe promised you this was permanent, you couldn’t fully believe him. He had done all of this just for you, so you had to be able to offer him something special in return.

Like Rafe wanted, you established a routine. Every morning the birds would wake you up exactly at eight, and you’d make your bed which kept you from napping all day. Staying in your room was causing your imagination to stretch. You found new ways to entertain yourself, including trying on all the clothes in your wardrobe and throwing elaborate tea parties with all your stuffed animals and dolls.

One night that you thought would be like the last twelve nights, Rafe came to you after Lana had already brought you dinner. He wasn’t dressed in his usual khakis and dress shirt but in sweatpants and a pullover. You were curled up on the window seat, drawing flowers in a notebook, when Rafe came over to join you.

“Hi,” You spoke softly. He placed a warm hand on your knee, and you slowly closed your notebook.

“Hi, baby,” There was an ease and calmness to his voice that made you believe he’d actually had a good day, “What are you working on? Show me.”

You sat up, leaning closer, as you handed him the notebook. You hid slightly behind your knees as Rafe began to flip through the pages. At this point, you’d covered half of the pages in your doodles, “Oh wow, these are really pretty, Bambi,” He smiled with his entire face, including his bright eyes, “We should hang some of these on the fridge.”

You felt a bit of relief, hearing that he liked him, “I have more. Way more. I’ve colored a lot of the coloring books.”

“Go get them, I’ll pick my favorites,” Excitedly, you got up from the window seat. When you set several full coloring books in his lap, Rafe’s lips parted in shock, “Okay, wow, I don’t think I realized how much coloring you’d been doing.”

“I think it’s fun,” You said.

“Good, I want you to have fun,” Rafe nodded, “But have you worn down all your color pencils? How come you haven’t asked for more?”

You shrugged when Rafe gave you an inquisitive look, “I try to take care of the ones I have.”

“Would you even ask Daddy for more coloring books if you ran out of pages to color?”

“Maybe,” You spoke honestly.

The idea of asking for more than what Rafe had already given you did make your heart race. Rafe shook his head at something, “Daddy will get you lots more art supplies. Maybe you could try painting?”

“We could paint together?” You perked up.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rafe assured you, “I’m really, really sorry I haven’t been here as much as I’ve wanted to. Needed to, really. It’s just … I’m working on a lot of things right now, you know?”

“I’ve been okay,” You said, “Lana has been kind to me.”

“Good, good, I want you to be happy here, you know? That’s why I want you comfortable asking for things,” You watched Rafe’s eyes wander towards the bookshelf, “Like your books. I never see you reading them. Do you not like them?”

“I do,” You said quickly.

Rafe started to stare deeply at you, “What-what is it?”

“I . . . “

“I can pick some different ones for you? What do you like?”

“I like it when you read to me, Daddy,” Rafe tilted his head and the mentioning of his nickname didn’t light up his features like usual, “It’s hard for me. I never needed to … do that.”

He paused, which made you think you’d done something wrong, “You’ve never needed to read?”

“I can do it,” You said, “It’s hard when they’re all together, and there’s so many… the words. I’m sorry you think I don’t like the books you picked. I really do. I will try harder–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe rushed to put the coloring books aside and grab ahold of your face, “I just didn’t know, that’s it. You didn’t do anything wrong. At all.”

It wasn’t something you’d ever felt embarrassed about, but now you couldn’t help but feel stupid. Deep down, you felt a guy like Rafe deserved someone better. He deserved someone smarter than you.

You closed your eyes, wanting to hang your head, but Rafe said, “Look at me, hey,” Weakly, you did, “I’ve been thinking that you should spend more time with Lana instead of being cooped up in here. At least until I can take care of this … one problem I have. She’d be happy to have some company. And, if you want to learn, she could help you with your reading.”

“You don’t care?”

“Not at all, look, don’t worry. I’ve got you, sweet girl,” He said. Rafe leaned in to peck your nose before he brought your lips together. You melted into him, realizing then how much you missed him when he was gone, “You know what I was thinking?”

You stared back at Rafe, who had a mischievous look in his eye.

“We should take the boat out.”

“Now? Where?”

“Just on a short ride to get you some fresh air. It’ll be cold, so let’s find you some warmer clothes, yeah?”

It was a rhetorical question; Rafe was already making his way over to your wardrobe. You looked down at the small silk pajama set you were wearing. You’d seen all the boats out by the dock but hadn’t imagined that Rafe would take you out on one. “Lift your arms,” You did exactly as he said, pulling a light blue sweatshirt over your head. He also chose long pajama bottoms, helping you get into those, too, “You want to bring one of your stuffies?”

Your excitement mixed with your anxiety as you put on your slippers. It was a hard decision to make about which stuffed animal you wanted to bring, but you settled on Fin, your silvery-blue dolphin, “Excellent choice.”

Rafe grabbed your hand, leading you downstairs, “Do you think we’ll see a real dolphin?”

“Well, they tend to be more active during the day, and it’ll be dark soon … but maybe if you wish really, really hard.”

The air was much cooler outside than you expected, and you certainly didn’t expect it to feel so strange being in the fresh air. You turned in a circle just so you could take in the sky, the trees, the house, and everything around you.

You followed a determined Rafe across the yard and towards the deck. He chose one of the smaller boats, although there was room for at least four more people. You yelped when Rafe grabbed you by your waist suddenly and lifted you inside. Another yelp escaped your lips as the boat rocked under the pressure of your weight, “You’re okay, don’t worry,” He didn’t have to tell you to take a seat or be still; you decided you wouldn’t move at all, “One . . . moment.”

You watched through the corner of your eyes as Rafe untied the roaps keeping the boat tethered to the dock. The boat rocked again as Rafe hopped inside, causing you to grip Fin in one hand and grip the side of the boat in the other.

You sat in the seat right across from Rafe as the boat slowly pulled off towards deeper water. As the boat became more steady, you turned your head and watched Tannyhill get smaller and smaller. The orange and blue sky reflected off the water, creating an insanely beautiful view. You sailed towards the horizon, the son looking half submerged in the water, “How do you feel?” Rafe yelled over the sound of the motor, “Wanna go faster?”

You nodded, a smile growing on your face, “My little daredevil, huh?” You sat up on your knees, wanting to see more. You get a better look at Figure 8, seeing lots of huge houses along the beach, although none of them compare to Tannyhill. Rafe pointed out different landmarks for you, including the country club and a huge lighthouse out in the water. In your eyes, this night made every other night where you worried about your place with Rafe worth it.

“Go ahead, you can give it a taste test,” Lana conceded, allowing you to dip your finger into the chocolate cake batter. A few days after your night out with Rafe, Lana was showing you how to make the perfect chocolate cake. You thought she might be exaggerating about how perfect it was until you were licking your finger. An excited moan left your mouth and you bounced on the balls of your feet, “It’s great, isn’t it? Espresso powder is the key.”

“It really is,” You agreed.

“Now, wash your hands. It’s time to pour our batter.”

The entire day Lana had told you exactly what to do and how to do it. You didn’t mind listening or following her directions as she usually spoke to you warmly. Besides that, you wanted to learn exactly how to take care of things around the house, knowing that Rafe would appreciate your help when Lana couldn’t be here. The two of you cleaned the entire downstairs, did several loads of laundry, washed the windows in the glass patio, and even had time for a reading lesson in the early morning. She informed you that she homeschooled her youngest son and that she would try to teach you in a similar way.

As you washed your hands, you glanced out the side window towards the dock. You could see Rafe far out on the dock, standing with the same business associate who came to the house a few weeks ago. They weren’t alone like you were expecting; someone was on their knees a few feet ahead of them, their head slumped over. You squinted your eyes, trying to see more of them, although Rafe and his business associate shouting at each other blocked your view, “What are they doing out there? Who’s that?” Lana came over to where you were standing, peeking out just like you were.

Whatever business Rafe was involved in, Lana didn’t seem to care for it, “Mr. Cameron and Barry, they’re always at each other’s throats,” She shook her head, “Come, dry your hands. The oven is heated.”

You did as she said, turning your head away. There were going to be several layers to your cake, meaning you had three pans to fill, and after that, you and Lana would make the icing. Just as your mind wandered back to Rafe, you heard him coming through the kitchen door.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, pacing for a moment before his dark eyes landed on you, “Bambi, let’s … uhm, go upstairs,” His voice was shaky and deeper than normal, “Come here.”

“We’re-We’re just about to put the cake in the oven. It’s for tonight, and we’re going to make homemade icing too–”

“Now …please,” He said the last word like it was painful, “It’s time for you to go back to your room.”

No, no, no, a voice repeated in your head.

“But Lana was going to teach me how to ice the cake, too and she —”

“Fine,” Rafe snapped, his hand slamming against the counter before he rolled his eyes, “Just stay here.”

As Rafe stomped away, you knew you had something horribly wrong. You’d seen him in a similar mood before but he never directed any of his vitriol towards you before. Whatever had happened on the dock had clearly upset him. You really wanted to finish working with Lana. More than anything, you didn’t want to be locked in your room for another long period of time.

After taking a breath, or attempting to take one, you turned to Lana, “I didn’t mean… I-I should go say sorry.”

“You might want to let him calm down a little bit, sweetheart,” You’d already made up your mind. You reached behind your neck to undo the top of your apron, “Turn around, let me help you. He’s not mad at you.”

“How do you know?”

“I know who he is,” She spoke simply, “Don’t take anything too personally with Mr. Cameron.”

“You can finish without me; I’m sorry, but thank you for today,” You said as you started to walk away. After you saw her nod, a sad smile on her face, you turned away and sped for the stairs.

You approached Rafe’s bedroom moments later, hesitantly turning the knob, “Daddy?” You called, peeking inside. You called him again. He wasn’t in the main room but the shower was running in the bathroom, “Rafe?”

You jumped when he suddenly appeared in the bathroom doorframe, shirtless and his belt undone. This time, you notice his bruised hands and bloody knuckles.

“I didn’t mean to make you upset, Daddy.”

“Get down on your knees,” He stared you down. When you tried to come closer, he said, “No, drop to your knees right there.”

You felt your knees brush against the bedroom rug, “Crawl to me.”

If Rafe wanted you to feel even smaller, then his plan was successful. You did as he said, seeing no other option, and crawled towards him. You watched as he palmed himself over his briefs, and you could already feel him stretching you, pulling your hair, and leaving marks on your bottom. This wouldn’t last, you told yourself; he would be gentle with you another time.

Your sage dress had ridden up your body, exposing your floral patterned white panties.

“You’re gonna suck my cock and swallow all my cum. And then you’re gonna thank Daddy for letting you.”

You’d do exactly as your Daddy wanted, hoping he’d take your sore throat and tears as a sufficient apology.

Once you were soundly asleep in his bed, Rafe slipped out. He had a huge, bloody problem waiting for him in the cabin of his boat. Luckily, JJ Maybank was still the degenerate he used to be, and no one except his Pogue girlfriend would come looking for him anytime, “Son of a bitch isn’t talking,” Barry grunted out, meeting Rafe at the beginning of the dock, “Knocked two of his bottom teeth out and he’s still not motivated.”

Rafe had done everything possible to limit any competition he might face in Kildare. All small-time dealers would be working for someone who worked for Rafe. This was meant to be Rafe’s island yet somehow, Maybank was getting supplies from the mainland and was stealing his customers.

“We could take his girl.”

Rafe contemplated Barry’s question before shaking his head, “If she comes around trying to find him, we might have no choice. I’m sure that will motivate him.”

Rafe could see Barry’s eyes wandering to Kie. Part of him would love to see JJ squirm if they got their hands on her. You were the reason he didn’t think too long about that. Barry, on the other hand, Rafe would let him do whatever he wanted with Kie. In the end, Rafe wanted JJ to talk, to give up his sources, but he’d be just fine killing him.

“I hope,” Barry crossed his arms, “Not exactly looking forward to dealing with the body.”

“We don’t have to deal with that shit anymore; I know who to pay to handle it,” Rafe said, “Speaking of, I think I-uh need some more security here. I want guards all around the perimeter. Because of the amount of merchandise and if we’re going to be taking captives, you know. I want this place to be a fortress.”

“Your merchandise, huh?” Barry flashed Rafe a knowing look, “You got any liquor in that big house?”

Rafe gestured his head toward the house, signaling to Barry to follow behind him.

“If Kie doesn’t come for him and if he still has no information to offer us, we kill him. No more torture, no mess, one gunshot to the temple,” Rafe instructed, his mind racing with what their next moves should be. The more planning beforehand, the better, and the less likely it would come back to them, “That’ll send a message to the rest of the Pogues too. They work for me, or they work for no one.”

“And after you’ve cornered the market?”

“That’s just the start of everything else,” Rafe led Barry through the first floor, towards his office. Ward always used to keep his office stocked with liquor as it came in handy for important meanings. Rafe learned people will often let down their barriers and concede to more under the influence of alcohol. He opened the door for him, allowing him to enter.

“Whoa,” Barry said, walking inside just as Rafe heard a soft gasp from a familiar voice. Eyebrows raised, Rafe entered behind him to find what had shocked him, “Is this the new Mrs. Cameron?”

With wide eyes, Rafe took you in. You were in the same clothes Rafe left you in, one of his white button-ups and your knee-high socks, “What are you doing down here?” You slowly stepped behind Rafe’s desk, and he could tell you were trying to hide yourself.

“I-I couldn’t find you.”

Rafe’s jaw jutted forward, his arms crossed, as he said, “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

Your lips parted to say something, but Barry interrupted, “C’mon, man, it’s not even midnight! Introduce me to your girl. We can all have a drink,” He grabbed ahold of Rafe’s shoulder. You would think Barry had one the lottery based on the look in his eyes. By complete accident, Barry had stumbled on Rafe’s biggest treasure, “I’ll behave, I promise.”

“She doesn’t drink.”

Rafe was frustrated, mostly because he should’ve been keeping closer track of you. He’d given you that necklace for a reason. A new idea crossed his mind, one he wasn’t expecting, and some of his anxiety eased. He was far from embarrassed of you, he’d chosen you for a reason, but part of Rafe wanted Barry to envy him at that moment.

Rafe sighed, waving you closer to the two of them, “Bambi, this is Barry. Barry, this is Bambi,” Smoothly, Rafe grabbed ahold of your waist, pulling you into him.

“Hi,” You said shyly, “It’s nice to meet you.”

When Barry held his hands out to you, your eyes darted towards Rafe as if to ask permission. Agreement crossed his face, and Rafe watched you shake his hand. Barry was fully taking you in, of course, but Rafe knew a handshake would be the extent of his closeness with you.

“The pleasure is all mine, beautiful.”

“Chill out, dude. Sit down,” Rafe instructed Barry, pulling you along.

Barry made himself comfortable on the leather couch and Rafe motioned you to sit across in one of the leather chairs.

“How you liking Kildare?”

“It’s really nice,” Rafe heard you respond as he poured two glasses of whiskey for him and Barry, “There’s so many big houses, and … it’s just really pretty.”

“You ain’t seen much then, have you?” Rafe handed Barry his glass, flashing a warning with his eyes, “All the girls where you’re from, they as pretty as you?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” You laughed nervously.

Rafe placed a hand on your shoulder, and you looked up at him, “Why don’t you go get Barry a slice of that chocolate cake you made?”

Rafe assumed it would ease your nervousness if you could share what you made. “Okay, Daddy,” You smiled at both men, and both men watched you closely as you walked out of the room, “I’ll be right back.”

“Pretty and obedient,” Barry whistled, “I need to travel more.”

A/N: Thank you all so much for your support on the first two chapters BUT psa you will not be added to my taglist if you're not reblogging the fic and letting me know your thoughts! It is crazy to me that people will ask me to tag them in the next chapter when they have neither liked nor reblogged the fic. Constructive feedback is more encouraging than just commenting "PART 4" or "tag me in part 4" :)

PART 4

#dark fic #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron #outer banks smut #barry outer banks #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction

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