#i think this reveals more about me as a writer than i want it to lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ifmywishescametrue · 1 year

Note

Wait, I know I’m late but outtakes for “Like Dominoes” ???

Outtakes for one of my favorite fics ever?? 👀 hello?

If you were ever planning on sharing them, you’d honestly make my week :)

omg yeah i didn't know i had outtakes for the longest time but i can definitely share them now. i'll try to provide context but it's been a long while since i wrote them, so the memories are more than a little hazy lol

all of that below the cut, because it's pretty long!

outtake one:

written to take place sometime after chapter 23, i guess? i think at one point, the fic was supposed to go for longer and actually include thanksgiving with bucky's family, or at least a few paragraphs that covered what happened there. but, that didn't happen, so this scene wasn't needed. i still like it, though, even if it's incomplete (and not proofread lol)

It’s still dark when Bucky wakes up, the kind of pitch black that lets him know even with his eyes closed that it’s before dawn. He rolls over to mash his face into the pillow, and it takes a moment to realize that on a normal night, he shouldn’t have been able to do that quite so easily.

Blindly, he reaches out to the other side of the bed, only to be met by cold, empty sheets. He lifts his head, squinting into the darkness, and the neon blue of the clock says it's 4:36. Far too early to wake up alone.

A muffled clang is just faintly audible through the walls, and Bucky tosses back the covers to find what he already knows will be the source.

He catches the scent of vanilla and sugar when opens the bedroom door, and he follows the light casting down the hall back to the kitchen.

Every surface is covered in something. All sizes of mixing bowls and baking trays, silicone stirring spoons, and a dusting of flour here and there. In the middle of all of it is Tony, with his entire focus on one misshapen gingerbread man and a steady hand outlining his body in white icing from a piping bag.

Bucky folds his arms over his chest and leans against the archway, waiting for him to finish before breaking into his concentration. “Baking cookies couldn’t have waited until tomorrow?”

Tony jolts a little, hand tightening on the bag to make a stream of icing shoot out onto the counter. It narrowly misses the next cookie in the row, and Tony wipes it away with his finger.

“It's technically tomorrow, isn't it?” He looks over his shoulder at the time on the microwave. “See? A few hours into it already.”

The corner of Bucky's mouth twitches. “And where did you get all these supplies? Last I checked, we didn’t have at least half of this.”

“There’s a 24-hour supermarket about thirty minutes away.”

“You went to the store in the middle of the night?” Bucky asks, brow furrowed. His eyes drift down Tony’s body, taking in his rumpled t-shirt and baggy flannel pants. “You’re in your pajamas.”

Tony shrugs, “There’s not a whole lot of room for judgment from other people also there at two in the morning.”

Bucky drops his arms and comes further into the kitchen, and Tony sets down the piping bag as he approaches. He looks tired, with shadows under his eyes and specks of powdered sugar in his unkempt hair. Bucky reaches for him and pulls him closer by the hip.

“What's the matter?” he asks softly.

“Why are you assuming something’s wrong?”

“Well, in my admittedly limited life experience, people don't usually go on baking frenzies before sunrise if they're doing perfectly fine,” Bucky says, brushing away the cinnamon from Tony's cheek. “I mean, you could be the first, but you're looking pretty dead on your feet, baby. What’s keeping you up?”

Tony shuffles closer, resting his forehead against Bucky’s sternum, and sighs at the first sweep of Bucky’s fingers through his hair, “I fell asleep for a little while, but then I had this weird dream that I was in the lab and there was an issue with the project but I couldn’t figure out the problem and everything was going wrong, so I woke up feeling stressed, and then my mind started drifting to everything else that I have to do, which reminded me that I wanted to do something to thank your mom for being so nice and welcoming over Thanksgiving break, but I couldn’t think about what exactly. Some article online suggested a handwritten note, but that felt kind of weird. You know, writing my feelings or whatever. That’s just awkward for everyone involved. So I landed on their second suggestion, which was basically this. I wasn’t really sure what she would like, though, and I didn’t want to wake you up to ask because you’ve got that early shift today, so I picked a couple of different recipes, and then I had to go to the store to get everything I needed, and now we’re here.”

Bucky hums, dipping his head down to press a kiss to the top of Tony’s. “Your mind is quite the place to be in, isn’t it? Must be like a maze in there.”

“More like if you took a bunch of different balls of yarn and threw them in the washing machine together, then tried to untangle it after,” Tony snorts. “But anyway, I figured since I’m already making stuff, I’d do peanut butter cookies for Rhodey, and those chocolate cookies that Steve and Nat like. Make it like an early Christmas thing for our friends and your family.”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky says, pinching the bridge of his nose, and Tony sighs again.

“I know, I know. It’s too much, and I’m overwhelmed now that I’m actually doing it, and I have about a million regrets, but I’ve started it, and now I have to finish it even if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Or you could finish in the morning,” Bucky suggests. “After you've gotten more than an hour of sleep.”

“Or I could finish now and sleep when I'm dead,” Tony counters, flashing him a grin.

Bucky looks around the kitchen again. Almost all of the gingerbread people are frosted, and the peanut butter cookies look to be cooling on a rack off to the side, while the chocolate chip ones are already packaged in tupperware. The timer on the oven is set to go off in a few minutes with a batch of something else, and there's another baking tray waiting on the stove to go in next.

“How much more do you have?” he asks.

“Not a lot. Just those last two batches, and then I can come back to bed.”

Bucky trails his hands along Tony's back, kneading his thumbs into Tony's shoulders for a moment. He does it again when Tony nearly moans at the touch.

outtakes two-four:

so when i first outlined this story, the ending was pretty much completely different. howard was still supposed to show up, but bucky was going to agree to his offer to divorce tony. it was meant to be a selfless thing (in bucky's mind, at least) to give up his relationship with tony so that tony could have his normal life back. but the more i wrote and the closer i got to the end, i just kept asking myself "would bucky do that, though?" and the answer was no. it didn't make sense anymore and going through with it as planned would've only served the purpose of creating angst for angst's sake. so i scrapped that ending, but some of it was already written. i guess it doesn't technically make these "outtakes," but it's a few pieces of the original/alternate ending.

for the first, here's a snippet from the aftermath, when tony's moving out of the apartment:

“You were supposed to go home for Thanksgiving,” Bucky says, and Tony pauses with a shirt held tight in his hand, his shoulders hunched and tense. “Your dad told me that he called you. Said he wanted to fix things and you turned him down.”

Tony shakes his head with a humorless laugh. “And did he tell you all his conditions? The weekly check-ins, monitoring my bank account, quitting my job in the lab because he wants to own every idea I’ll ever have. Oh, and let’s not forget that he still can’t wrap his head around the fact that I’m only into men, so I’d better find a girl that he can approve of to help clean up his image after everything else I’ve supposedly done to him. Gave me a list of candidates and everything.”

Bucky swallows hard, guilt turning his stomach. “Tony, I -”

“No,” Tony cuts him off, spinning around. His eyes are cold, and Bucky’s never seen him like this before. “I turned him down because I don’t need him. I don’t need someone controlling my life and making my decisions for me. I thought I was done with people who did that, but I guess not.”

Tony looks at him for a second longer, and Bucky feels frozen under his hurt, angry gaze. He should’ve known better, he thinks. Should’ve approached everything differently and taken even just a minute to think it through before it got this far.

He opens his mouth to say just that, but Tony sighs and turns back to roughly zip up his bag. “I’ll come back some other time for the rest.”

Tony’s shoulder brushes his own as he walks past him out of the bedroom, and the front door slams shut behind him before leaving him in the quiet.

and here's a scene of bucky talking to natasha about it:

“You didn’t just live together. You shared a bedroom and everything. Casual sex partners don't do that,” Nat says, but she doesn't stop there. “Neither one of you ever saw anyone else, and you would have both been pissed if you did. You kissed him without it leading to sex, you held his hand wherever you went, and you called him 'babe' more than his actual name. In fact, I'm pretty sure you never even called him his name to his face at all. I hate to break it to you, but that's just called being married. Actually, truly married.”

“Well, we were married, but that doesn't mean we were together. He didn’t want that, and frankly, I think it's a little sexist that you don't think two men can hold hands and just be friends.”

She gives him a flat look. “Is that really the argument you're choosing?”

Bucky nods, completely ready to double down. He's pretty sure it falls into the categories of at least two logical fallacies, but he doesn't care much for ethical debate right now. “Yeah, it is. It's a reflection of toxic masculinity, and honestly I thought you were better than that.”

“You were literally fucking each other.”

“As friends.”

“Married friends.”

“Friends who happened to be married,” Bucky corrects. “Just like I already told Steve.”

“And as I've said, neither of us believe you.”

Bucky shrugs, “That doesn't seem like my problem.”

Natasha looks at him with agony in her eyes. “Why are you so incredibly stupid?”

“It's not my fault you didn’t understand our dynamic.”

“Did you even understand your dynamic?”

Bucky hesitates and almost tells the truth. But if he doesn't say out loud that sometimes it was easy to forget that none of was real and sometimes he pushed boundaries on purpose just to see how far it could go, how many pieces of himself Tony would let him keep, then it's easier to pretend that everything is exactly the way he wants it to be and that he doesn't really want the one thing he can't have. If he tells the truth to Natasha, he can't keep lying to himself.

Bluntly, Natasha says, “You’re in love with him.”

He stops breathing for a second, and his heart skips over itself. It’s so much worse to hear it out loud. To hear her admit it when he can’t. Not in any way that matters, anyway.

“I do love him,” Bucky says slowly, “in the same way that I love you or Steve and sometimes Sam if he isn’t being annoying. That’s why I’m doing what’s best for him.”

a continuation of that i scene, i think? idk there was a gap between them in the document but i think it was supposed to be connected eventually lol:

“Please, Nat,” Bucky says, voice breaking on her name. “I’m really begging you to just let it go. And tell Steve to let it go, too. It’s not like that. It can’t be like that.”

and for the last "outtake," the laser tag line was always there in some way. i think this was supposed to be part of a getting-back-together scene:

“And why not?” she questions, unrelenting. “Because it would ruin things? You could lose him as a friend? Last I checked, you already did. I don’t why, because you won’t tell me, and despite the fact that I’ve called him a dozen times in the last two weeks, he won’t tell me either. All I know is that you fucked up, and he’s gone, which means you’ve got nothing left to lose.”

“You remember that bet we made?” Tony asks. “Laser tag. You said that I could have anything that I wanted.”

“Course I remember. You never used it, though.”

Tony twists his hand into the blanket, so tightly that his knuckles turn white. “I never used it because I already had everything I wanted.”

#answered asks #answered anon #i think this reveals more about me as a writer than i want it to lol #like my method for writing is doing random scenes and snippets however they pop into my head and hoping it'll all connect later #my writing

2 notes · View notes

ozzgin · 2 months

Note

Is it just me or can I imagine a yandere with a darling who’s immune system and possibly everything about them just screams weak and pathetic, BUT their darling is actually very strong mentally and has and will create the most fucked up, batshit crazy inventions from what used to be harmless to something that can help them escape and possibly destroy everything in its path.

But at the end of the day, they become sleepy koalas who hug whoever is near them and fall asleep :)

This could be a request or rant, whatever you can think of! I just wanted to see how different yandere writers would interpret this small imagination of mine <3

But as always, stay safe and take care! everyone needs a break some time to time~

Sorry, but the moment I read the Darling's description, I instantly thought of Dr. Finkelstein from Nightmare Before Christmas. You know, Sally's inventor. 😭 So let me quickly write this down while I'm in my Shelley vibes, because I like the idea a lot. With a little twist, if you don't mind. :)

Yandere! Monster x Inventor! Reader

A frail inventor, and their affectionate rag doll that has been carefully stitched together for the purpose of a caregiver. An artificial existence, trapped within the confines of your lonely tower. Or so you might think.

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, obsessive behavior

"I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel..." [Frankenstein]

You dangle an old, rusty bell for a good minute before leaning back in your chair. The barely audible chimes are quickly swallowed by the loud, mechanical groans of the gears and engines occupying most of this room. No matter, his ears are good. You picked them yourself. And surely enough, within moments, the door to your laboratory opens and someone cautiously walks in.

A tall, slender man. Or rather, something meant to resemble a man. The skin is a clumsy patchwork of blues and grays - you're no talented seamster, sadly - gathering together the body parts in what feels like a parodic attempt at mimicking God and his image. You gaze at the creature approaching you with a tray of tea and sweets. Scarcely your best work, if you must adhere to honesty. Regardless of the quality of your labor at the time of creation, you are proud of the result. How could you not be? You know this man better than you know yourself. Every organ, every artificial nerve cord, every blemish and stitch of his body was placed according to your intentions. A masterfully detailed project that took you years to complete; not an easy feat considering the lamentable state of your health.

"Here's your deadly nightshade tea." The man places a small, porcelain cup on the desk. "Do let me know when I should take you to bed, (Y/N)." You wave your hand dismissively and stretch out your limbs. "Not yet. I am almost finished", you respond, returning to the mound of metal scraps and pipes before you. "Can I ask what you're making?" The pale creature lowers himself to your level, a curious smile plastered on his face. "It's a mechanical heart", you reveal boastfully. "Like the one I have?" You run your hand through the creature's hair affectionately. "Almost. I'm testing out a different way to build the valves, for a more efficient pumping cycle." You continue to explain the intricacies of your novel mechanism, occasionally sipping on your tea. "Who knows, you might have a sibling in the near future."

The man's smile drops in an instant, and his sunken eyes widen at your statement. "What? Am I- am I not enough?" You glance at the creature as he becomes increasingly frantic. "Don't speak nonsense. If it comes out alright, I'll upgrade your own parts as well. I'm a disciple of scientific virtue, of continuous improvement." Nonsense? Vile treachery! You might've chiseled the brain that throbs within the walls of his skull, but his mind is his alone, and you seem to lack a fundamental understanding of his feelings and thoughts. His ardent confessions of love are met with mockingly pitiful grins, in the way a parent soothes a needy child. Even now, your eyes reflect nothing more than sympathy towards his protest. A childish tantrum is what you're most likely thinking. You've no time for emotional bagatelles. He can read you like an open book.

You simply won't understand. There is no place for a stranger in the life he's crafted with his very own hands: you, and him, and the evening tea with a side of butterscotch biscuits, and the bedtime talks, and the stripped branches of the decaying tree that rap at the windows on stormy nights. You might be the Inventor, but he is not just a mere, humble servant, a rag doll to be tossed around or toyed with. As you will soon discover, after all.

You awaken in the midst of night with your temples burning from a much too familiar headache. Although it's not just the pain that has disturbed your slumber. You can hear rattles and thuds coming from the upstairs laboratory. An intruder? Oh, your creations! The sound of glass breaking and metal scraping sends you into spiraling despair. You fumble to reach the nightstand, patting the surface in search for the bell and keys. You shake the handle in a panic, unable to find anything else in the darkness.

The chaotic rustle abruptly stops, followed by descending footsteps. You hold your breath as the chamber door opens, but it's none other than your creature. "Another flare-up? Shall I bring you some medicine?" the man asks with monotonous courtesy. "What have you been doing? What's all that noise?" you demand, agitated, but upon lifting yourself off the mattress you discover your legs are numb and uncooperative. The man hurries to your bed with a worried frown, and you hear the familiar clatter of the keychain coming from one of his pockets. "Have you taken my keys? Cease this foolishness at once!" Indifferent to your reproach, he places a firm hold on your shoulders and forces you back down, tucking you in effortlessly.

"You must forgive my impertinence." he says in a pleading tone. "I do not wish to impede the works of your genius. As your partner, however, it is my duty to prevent you from making mistakes." You furrow your eyebrows at his words. "What mistakes? My invention was flawless!", you argue fervently. "Indeed it was, but not its purpose. What need have you for another being?" It is the creature's turn for a passionate speech. He stands up with a confidence you don't recognize and continues: "You should know by now that I am fit to perform any role. That of your servant, your caregiver, your lover, or anything else you may desire. You can resume your tinkering starting tomorrow, but such blasphemies to our bond as the one today will not be tolerated." He straightens his vest and reaches for the door handle. "I will prepare some tea to help you rest."

Inconceivable. Your own creation, built with your own hands...Has something escaped your attention? His dialogue is deranged, tainted by madness. "Have I done something wrong?" you mumble to yourself, deep in contemplation. "Nonsense." the creature turns to face you briefly. "It was you who created me after all. Everything is perfectly splendid."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #male yandere x reader #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x human #monster x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #gender neutral reader #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere creation

1K notes · View notes

heesdreamer · 11 months

Text

TOUCH STARVED

PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader

SUMMARY ➩ your bestfriend dyes his hair blonde and old feelings start to surface.

WC ➩ 6.7k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ I recommended listening to I know by Faye Webster Short and simple but I’ve had writers block and just wanted to try to work through it with something easy and comfortable. Thank you for your patience and support NOT PROOFREAD

“Woah.”

“Woah? What kind of reaction is that?” The boy in you doorway had completed deflated after hearing your lifeless exclamation, shoulders dropping in a small sigh as his eyebrows turned downwards on his tired face to glare at you.

It wasn’t a strange sight to see Lee Heeseung standing in the hallway outside of your apartments doorway, even less strange that he was carrying two convenience store slushees, one in his hand and the other tucked neatly into the crease of his elbow. His free hand had just fallen to his side from pushing his hoodie off his head and revealing the only strange thing about this scene.

“When did you do that?” You were instinctively moving your arm up to reach out and touch his hair that he had freshly bleached blonde apparently, shocking you for just a second when he showcased it with an expectant look on his face.

You caught yourself before touching him but he didn’t seem to notice anyways, pushing past you with another sigh and dramatically flopping onto your couch with a grouchy expression.

“It looks nice Hee, just took me by surprise.” You were following behind him and sitting on the couch with a bit of distance between the two of you, watching him curiously and taking note of the ways his features changed underneath the new hair color.

Heeseung had been your best friend ever since you moved into the city a few years ago, frequently stopping at the comic book store he worked at to pick up gifts to send back home to your little brother and eventually, once he had quit for a better opportunity, he had rushed out of the store one day and asked if you wanted to exchange numbers so you didn’t lose touch.

It had become such a casual routine for you to see him, holding small conversations that over time turned into lengthy talks that accidentally held up the stores lines sometimes.

A handful of days contained you stopping by during your lunch break and eating with him behind the register. Heeseung made you laugh harder than anyone you’d ever met and you found that to be even more true once you started seeing him outside of his work.

Two years passed since he quit his job and you’d almost forgotten what it was like to not know him, easily blending into your life and becoming the first person on your call list at all times. Hence why it wasn’t exactly strange for him to be pouting on your couch, disappointed you hadn’t reacted more to the sudden change of his hair.

Heeseung was always the more impulsive one out of the two of you and he constantly seemed to be jumping from hobby to hobby, the perfectionist side of him never letting him stick to learning just one thing. His style and aesthetic had switched about a dozen times since you’d met him and he was never quite satisfied with the posters hanging in his apartment but the hair was definitely a big change, even for him.

“You think it looks nice?” He was looking at you from the side of his eye carefully, still fully attempting to keep up his upset facade but you didn’t miss the fact he was fishing for compliments.

You sighed and shifted on your knees so you were a touch closer to him on the couch, used to his dramatics by now but you figured you’d humor him slightly since he could be sensitive at times.

He didn’t say anything when you moved forward but he tensed a bit when your hand was coming up to touch the brightly dyed hair, your eyes widening in slight surprise considering it didn’t feel completely dead. You were running your hand through his thick hair and trying not to think about how unusual it was for you to be so touchy with him, never really being the type of friends who were overly affectionate with each other.

He hugged you on your birthdays and occasionally touched the small of your back when guiding you through a crowded party or event and you were extremely grateful for his lack of contact considering you definitely weren’t oblivious to how attractive your best friend was.

You’d even eventually came to terms with the fact you positively had a crush on him when you’d first met, something you denied to your friends and family back home whenever they picked up on the smile in your voice at the mention of your new friend and inquired for details.

Being friends with Heeseung was more important to you and it was easy to forget how much you had originally liked him if it meant keeping him in your life, even easier considering he never seemed to toe that line that you nearly crossed occasionally the first year or two.

The line you were carefully skating towards right now with your hand in his hair, close enough on the couch to where your knee touched his thigh for just a second before you were scooting your lower half away a bit to avoid the contact. You didn’t take your hand away however but it moved down to his eyebrows instead, smoothing them down with your thumb and remembering he had asked a question when it quirked up as he waited for a response.

“It makes you look more serious.” You mumbled and he still had an expectant look on his face, like he wasn’t quite satisfied with your answer. “Your eyes look more intense now with your dark eyebrows. It’s sort of sexy.”

He snorted a laugh at that and shook his head in denial, realizing you were teasing him and giving him the answers you figured he was looking for.

“Okay but I am serious about it looking nice.” You were smiling as you spoke and he was watching you closely considering you were still gently rubbing his eyebrow with your thumb, retracting your hand after a few seconds and clearing your throat before changing the topic.

The rest of the hangout went as usual, the two of you sitting on your comfortable couch and watching romance movies that were almost comedies when they got too cringy.

You didn’t notice anything different and Heeseung definitely didn’t offer up anymore surprises as big as his bleached hair but something subtly shifted after he left. It took you a few more times seeing him before you noticed he was acting different, lingering around you closer than normal and reaching out to touch the back of your arm whenever he needed to get your attention.

It was so small you barely registered he was doing it until he was back at your apartment the next weekend, coming in with his spare key like normal but instead of going over to your couch and playing on his phone, he was approaching you in the kitchen and watching you for a few seconds silently.

You raised an eyebrow in his direction when you noticed him staring, rolling up your sleeves midway on your arms before going back to cutting up the fruits you’d pulled out for a snack. “What’s up?”

He shrugged at your question and didn’t immediately answer, leaving a weird feeling of confusion in your chest when he was coming closer and touching his arm against yours from how close he was standing. It was much more difficult to ignore than his small casual touching he’d been increasing recently, a lot more intimate than tapping your knee or moving your hair out of your face.

You hurried up to finish cutting before he could do anything weirder and he still wasn’t speaking even when you were shoving the cut up fruits into a bowl and abandoning him near the counter, hurrying onto the couch and glancing back just in time to see him following behind you into the living room.

It was silent for a few more minutes as you started to flip through the explore page of Netflix and you were just starting to relax after his weird demeanor before he was fixing his position on the couch.

You tensed up when he flipped around so he was spread across the expanse of it, moving his body so his head was resting on your thigh and his arm was dangling off the sofa, fingers grazing the carpet gently as he turned to look up at you. “Can you touch my hair again?”

“What?” It slipped from your mouth faster than you even processed his question and he tensed a bit at the harshness of your tone, almost sounding disgusted underneath all of your shock. You felt a wave of guilt for accidentally being rude, taken completely off guard by his request and the fact he was casually laying on you like it was something the two of you did all the time. You relaxed your shoulders to try and show him you weren’t upset and just confused.

“It felt kind of nice when you touched it the other day… I don’t know you don’t have to never mind, forget it.” He was avoiding looking at you now but not taking his head off your lap, most likely too embarrassed to sit back up and rearrange himself again after just doing it a few seconds ago.

His cheek was pressed on your thigh as he stared at the TV despite the fact you weren’t scrolling down the options anymore and there was nothing for him to be looking at. You watched the side of his face for a few moments, following down his sharp jaw and the way the nearly white hairs fell almost over his eyes.

You were sucking in a breath and touching his hair before you could think about it any longer, feeling the way he tensed underneath your sudden touch before immediately relaxing and practically melting into your lap. You started to pick a movie again despite being completely distracted by how much the two of you were touching and if he noticed you were mindlessly clicking things, he didn’t say anything about it.

“Wait… he asked you to pet him?” Sunoo was jaw dropped from where he sat on your bed, watching you rummage through your closet as you ranted to him about the weird moments with Heeseung.

You sighed and shot him a glare because of his weird wording, not responding for a few seconds and squeezing your eyes shut tight when he was letting out a small gasp of shock and scooting forward on his knees.

Three days had passed since you’d last saw your best friend and you had done everything in your power to ignore your growing confusion about the situation, including not telling anybody about it or worsening the situation by getting a second opinion. That only lasted until you opened your front door to see Sunoo’s smiling face, immediately bursting out into confession and asking him for help.

“Okay not to freak you out but this is totally weird.” He was shaking his head now and watching you intensely, opening your eyes to see his equally perplexed expression. “I don’t know if I’ve ever even seen you guys high five before and how he’s practically a dog on your lap?”

“Can you cut that out?” You aggressively threw a shirt in his direction with furrowed eyebrows after his second rude joke slipped from his mouth. He caught the piece of clothing and raised his hands in surrender but you could tell he wasn’t sorry judging by the mischievous look on his face.

You didn’t say anything after that and you felt a deep disappointment in your chest considering Sunoo had left you feeling even more confused about the situation, confirming the fact that it was definitely strange and out of the ordinary.

It didn’t help that the two of you weren’t just looking through your clothes for fun but you were picking out outfits for a small party at a mutual friends house, a party that Heeseung would definitely be attending and looking for you at considering he’d been texting you all afternoon to check in and make sure you were still planning on being there.

Sunoo did his best to lighten the mood but dolling you up and being overly nice the entire way out of your apartment, taking selfies with you in the back of the Uber and purposely avoiding mentioning anything about your best friend.

He was following close behind you once you actually entered the party, feeling slightly anxious considering it was a bigger turn out than what you had been promised over text by the two boys throwing it. You let out a small sigh and scanned through the crowd, habitually looking for Heeseung even though you were still overthinking everything.

It didn’t take you long to find him considering he was one of the taller people there, laughing near the kitchen with some of your friends but you watched as he continuously spared looks towards the doorway like he was waiting for something. A weird warmth washed over you knowing that it was you he was looking for like always, missing you when you’d entered just a few minutes ago.

You tried to ignore the fact that it was completely normal for the two of you to instinctively find each other so there was no reason for the butterflies in your stomach at his attentiveness. Nothing had changed despite the addition of the small touches and you weren’t going to unbury any old feelings for him just because he was acting a bit clingier than usual.

Still, you made your way over to him swiftly, at some point losing Sunoo in the crowd. You weren’t too concerned considering he was the more social out of the two of you, grateful he had at least stuck with you long enough for you to find Heeseung.

You were approaching him and the other boys and they noticed you before he did, smiles on their faces as they started to greet you casually. This caught Heeseung’s attention and he was spinning around quickly to see you, eyes widened in relief and yours opened similarly in surprise when he hands were falling down onto your waist and squeezing softly.

“There you are, I was getting worried.” His words were casual and he didn’t seem to realize the fact you were completely frozen under his touch.

Sunoo had chosen an outfit that left your waist completely bare and although you were growing use to his simple and fleeting touches, you definitely weren’t prepared to feel his warm hands completely covering the expanse of your bare skin. He either didn’t think it was a big deal or he was doing a very good job at pretending, pulling you closer to him so you were standing in front and he was still holding onto you.

You could feel his chest rumbling against your back as he continued to talk with your friends, thumbs absentmindedly stroking your bare sides and squeezing occasionally whenever you slightly shifted.

You were starting to feel slightly crazy and dramatic, like you were the only one making a big deal out of nothing and overthinking stuff that had no meaning behind it. It wasn’t until you were meeting eyes with one of your friends Jake that you considered the opposite, seeing the way he was looking at curiously before his eyes were dropping down to the big hands holding onto you borderline possessively.

He met your gaze again before quirking up an eyebrow in question, eyes creasing into a small chuckle when you were shrugging and giving him a bewildered look to showcase you also thought it was strange.

Heeseung must have noticed the silent exchange because he was faltering in his words for a second before tugging you back tighter against his chest, clearing his throat over the surprised sound you let out at the sudden jerking movement.

You froze for a few seconds before you were taking a step or two out of his embrace. “I need to go to the bathroom really quick.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” He was rushing it out before he even seemed to realize he was saying it and the rest of the group paused awkwardly at the random offer, completely out of character for him.

You froze with them before quickly gathering yourself and shaking your head in denial, starting to stutter out a reason before giving up and turning around so you could rush away from the awkward situation.

Thankfully the bathroom down the hallway wasn’t occupied and you quickly entered it and locked the door, placing your hands on the cold countertop and taking deep breaths to try and calm your nerves down. You’d already been overthinking the situation and having it confirmed that it wasn’t just you noticing things were changing was positively freaking you out, wondering if he had somehow found out about your feelings for him.

You were glancing up at yourself in the mirror and sighing at the stressed out look on your face, splashing some cold water on your cheeks to bring you back to your senses before you were fixing your hair and opening the door.

You were stopped in your tracks considering somebody was standing directly outside of it, peering down at you with a slightly surprised expression because of the speed in which you swung the door open. He was taking a step back with a small smirk when he steadied himself, letting you pass but not making any moves to head into the bathroom himself.

“Is there a reason you followed me over here Jake or were you just creepily standing outside the door.” Your tone was exhausted when you turned back to look at him and he didn’t seem at all shocked that you spoke to him rather than walking away.

“Just wondering what’s going on with you and Heeseung.” He was shrugging casually but he had a mischievous look in his eyes that you didn’t really trust.

Being friends with Jake was fun and casual, he showed up to events and made them louder and looser but he’d also been there for you countless times when you needed help and weren’t sure who to call, not wanting to constantly bother Heeseung with your problems. Jake was particularly useful when your problems were about Heeseung, letting you drunkenly rant a handful of times about your past feelings for him.

But that didn’t make it any less annoying that he was clearly trying to meddle with the situation, whatever it was. You sighed and took a few steps in his direction, pointing a finger onto his chest and giving him your best attempt at a glare.

“Don’t say anything to him about it, whatever it is will pass and we will all forget about it.” You were trying to sound stern and intimidating but he was still looking down at you with slight amusement, eyes dropping down to your finger on his chest for a second before meeting your eyes again.

“If I told you that I knew, would you want to know?” He was saying suddenly with a raised eyebrow and you froze in place.

“Are you implying that you know why Heeseung is acting so weird towards me?” Your eyes turned down into a glare but he didn’t seem at all intimidated by the threatening tone you’d taken on, smiling down at you and shrugging again like he wasn’t holding crucial information to the most important friendship in your life.

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.” He was clearly teasing you and your frustration grew, making a small angry noise and pushing your palm against his chest instead of just the tip of your finger. “Okay okay fine. All I can say is maybe think about something you did that might have made him realize he-“

Your eyes were widening as you listened to him intensely, nodding to try and encourage him to continue once he slowly trailed off in his sentence. You weren’t sure why he stopped talking until you heard a throat clearing from the end of the hallway, turning your head swiftly to see Heeseung standing there and looking at the two of you.

He had a strange expression on his face, one you weren’t quite used to seeing and it took you a few seconds to realize it was anger. He rarely ever was angry, especially around you and you were completely thrown off by the dark way he was looking at you.

Jake seemed to understand the reason for it faster than you and he shifted back awkwardly, getting impossibly closer to the wall. He couldn’t really move away from you much but the slight movement was enough for you to realize what a compromise position the two of you looked like you were in. Your hand was still on his chest from your anger earlier and you were unusually close to him, staring up at him encouragingly.

Your mouth was parting to try and explain that it wasn’t what it looked like but there was no point considering Heeseung was shaking his head and turning to leave, the flashing lights of the party in the living room behind him illuminated his face just enough for you to see the upset clenching of his jaw.

You didn’t bother saying goodbye to Jake, following after your friend quickly even when he was pushing through the crowd and heading back outside.

By the time you managed to get out there he was stuffing his phone into his pocket and standing on the sidewalk near the road, shiny now from the rain that had fallen during the party. He was crossing his arms and you frowned slightly at how cold and annoyed he looked before you were taking a small breath and approaching him.

“Did you get a ride?” You asked him softly and he didn’t seem at all startled by the sound of your voice, barely sparing you a glance out of the side of his eye before giving a curt nod.

You mirrored the movement of his head in understanding awkwardly but you had a small pit in your stomach considering he wasn’t even looking at you, obviously upset about something you didn’t quite understand. It was rare you and Heeseung fought and even more rare that he was genuinely mad at you and not just bickering about something stupid.

He was keeping up his stony demeanor even when you sniffled slightly from the cold and rubbed your hands on your bare arms to try and warm them up a bit.

Eventually you were wobbling sideways while trying to adjust your standing position and you leaned onto him slightly for support, your skin brushing his for a few seconds before you were quickly standing upright and mumbling an apology into the tensed silence. He didn’t say anything still but you spared him another glance and tensed up seeing he was staring at you now, a weird expression on his face.

You were thinking about asking him if he was feeling okay until he was reaching over and touching your arm softly, ignoring the small surprised noise you made and tugging you over so you were stood in front of him again, the same position he had put you in back in the kitchen.

“What are you…” You trailed off when he was caging his arms around you and rubbing softly on your bare skin like you had been a few moments ago, warming you up immediately but also pressing you entirely against him.

Your next few breaths came out shaky and if he noticed he didn’t say anything, standing there like that with you held against him until the car was pulling up. He held the door open for you and scooted inside next to you until his thigh was pressed against yours, taking up the middle seat despite having plenty of room to sit on his own.

A guilty feeling was eating at you again for being so hyper aware of everything he was doing lately. Maybe he had always been this touchy and you just didn’t notice it because you were so preoccupied with denying your feelings for him and keeping your friendship as a priority.

You were watching the side of his face and thinking about this when you started to change your mind. He wasn’t exactly acting normal either despite being the one to start casually touching you.

Heeseung was avoiding looking at you most the time, almost like he knew you’d be giving him that confused stare you’d carried consistently the last few days. It didn’t help that your friend group had also seemed completely thrown off by the way he was acting and that wasn’t nearly as intimate as the way he treated you when you were alone together. He cleared his throat and snapped you out of your daze, diverting your eyes off of him and opting to stare out the front window instead.

You hoped your face didn’t flush too noticeably when he started to stare at you instead, feeling his gaze just as prominent as his leg pressed against yours.

——

It wasn’t unusual for Heeseung to follow you out of the Uber, it wasn’t out of place for him to be standing behind you silently while you nervously dug your keys out of your bag and unlocked your front door.

All these typical things were only unnerving you because of the new added factor, the heavy tension sitting between the two of you now. You glanced behind you right before you turned the doorknob and met eyes with him for a few seconds, knowing he felt it too for sure now and having no more doubts about if he was purposefully acting different.

You pushed the door open and kicked off your shoes, the two of you going about your usual routine of changing into more comfortable clothes, him having his own section in your closest and drawer in your dresser. It was the same as always except for the thick silence, replacing the usual laughter and banter that filled the rooms.

You took a deep breath before leaving your room in shorts and one of Heeseung’s shirts now, pausing in the doorway when he left the bathroom across the hall at the exact same time.

“So-“

“Are you-“

The two of you froze up when you started to speak together. You gave him a small awkward smile before gesturing your hand in his direction to indicate you wanted him to go first, hugging your arms across your stomach when he nodded to try and calm down your nerves.

“Are you and Jake a thing now?” He was asking in a flat tone but you could tell he was still upset from the party, avoiding looking at you directly and clenching his jaw again.

“You’re seriously asking me that right now?” A disbelieving laugh slipped from your mouth at the end of the sentence and this seemed to frustrate him even more, looking at you finally with heat behind his eyes. You shook your head and touched your mouth softly in shock, realizing he genuinely thought that’s what he had seen.

You turned around to go back into your bedroom, assuming he’d follow even though you were clearly thrown off by what he was saying.

He did exactly that and he stood near your desk when you sat down on the bed carefully, watching you and waiting for you to offer an explanation. You didn’t like how intimidating he looked, something you’d never thought about him before, and you slightly felt like you were being interrogated even though he was the one being weird.

“Of course I’m not dating Jake.” You really stressed the words to make him understand but he gave you a disbelieving look, causing a scoff to be pulled from your lips. “I was only in the hallway with him because he was wondering why you were acting so weird.”

It slipped out before you even realized you were saying it and he tensed up at the same time you paused. His eyebrow quirked up in question and you stared at him in embarrassment, knowing you’d have no choice to explain what you had been noticing.

“How am I acting weird?” He proved you right by asking you that but his tone was stiff and it sounded like he already knew the answer without you even needing to say it.

“I don’t know you’re just…. you’re just being different.” You were playing with your hands anxiously and trying to avoid looking at him.

It didn’t help that he was still standing over you and seemed completely thrown off and distant now that you’d brought attention to his behavior. He must have figured you didn’t notice and he was getting away with it, letting out a deep sigh and shaking his head softly.

You stared at him now despite feeling overly awkward, watching the way his movement caused his bright bleached hair to fall into his face and cover his eyes again. Your mouth pulled into a frown softly and you were standing up before he had time to process it, reaching over and pushing his hair back with your hand.

He didn’t say anything as you touched him gently, revealing his forehead again and making sure he didn’t poke himself in the eyes with the ends of his hair.

It was making the situation ten times more confusing for the both of you but you’d already crossed those invisible boundaries multiple times already and you were sick of how high the frustrated tension was, figuring you might as well take this opportunity to be close to him in ways you hadn’t gotten a chance to before.

“I don’t want to fight with you.” He was whispering and your eyes fell from his hair down to hold his gaze, seeing how his hardened expression had practically melted into one of guilt and regret. “It makes me feel terrible, I hate it so much.”

“Then let’s not fight.” You mumbled back to him, keeping your volume low in the delicate air. Your hand was still touching his hair and you softly put some of the longer pieces behind his ear, letting it drop afterwards to land on his shoulder for a few seconds. You gave it a gentle reassuring squeeze before you were stepping away from him again in preparation to sit back on the bed.

His body automatically followed yours like you had a magnet connected to you, taking a step forward to match the one you took back. He didn’t even seem to realize he was doing it, just naturally trying to keep close to you.

You watched him for a few beats to see if he was going to back away and apologize, realize that he was acting strange considering you’d just had a conversation about it. Strangely, he seemed completely clueless to why you had paused and cocked his head to the side like he was asking for an explanation. You waited for a bit more, deciding between two ways you could handle this and eventually landing on the one that caused you to take a deep breath before speaking.

“Did you want to lay with me?” Your voice was coming out fast and strong but your stomach was almost hurting with how nervous you felt, not sure at all where the line had moved to and how far was too far.

His eyes widened at your question and for a moment he seemed to realize how close you were standing for no reason, weird enough that you were even standing in your room in the first place instead of casually lounging around your apartment.

“Like.. in your bed?” He was finally responding after what felt like ten years and you nodded before you changed your mind, shrugging bashfully after like it wasn’t a big deal to you despite the fact you felt almost dizzy at the idea of laying with him.

You took a step to the side so you could move without bumping into him and he watched as you climbed onto your bed awkwardly, scooting to the far left so the side closest to him was available and tucking yourself underneath your big blanket. He was just watching you in bewilderment and you felt a bit stupid suddenly, having just assumed he’d want to lay with you because how touchy he’d been.

“You don’t have to never mind, it’s stupid anyways.” You laughed softly at the end of your mumbled sentence but it didn’t come across as genuine at all, scooting awkwardly on your side more so you didn’t have to face him directly.

Before you were able to look away from him he was quickly snapping out of it at the sound of your retraction, shaking his head quickly and landing on the bed with his knees before you could shut him out further. You tensed as he climbed into the bed next to you and pulled the blanket up so he could get underneath, avoiding looking at your bare legs for the few seconds they were visible before he was lowering it.

The two of you laid side by side for a few minutes in silence and you were quickly regretting asking him to join you considering how awkward it was.

You could hear him breathing, heavily at first almost like he was winded and then calmer the longer you stayed like that. You’d rolled back over fully onto your back eventually and your shoulder bumped into his, settling down into a position that made it so your arms were touching.

It was hard not to wonder what he was thinking about, if he was thinking about anything. Your mind was overflowing with too much confusion but it was completely possible that he was just laying next to you because you had asked and he wasn’t putting as much meaning behind it as you did so instinctively.

Then you felt something pressing against your wrist, flinching away for a second thinking it was a bug or something before your brain registered the warmth of Heeseung’s fingers pressing against your skin softly. You lowered your arm back onto the bed and thankfully he didn’t seem to be deterred by your sudden movement, sliding his hand down your wrist until he could lace his fingers with yours.

A wave of relief washed over you suddenly, silent confirmation that this wasn’t just two friends laying in bed together.

You felt like your breath had caught in your throat and you absentmindedly squeezed his hand, a sigh of relief being heard from beside you. His thumb was rubbing over the back of your palm and you were fighting the urge to look over at him and see what his expression was like.

“You can say no but..” His voice was coming out low and your head snapped in his direction at the sound of it. He wasn’t looking at you, staring straight up at the ceiling with an almost pained expression. “Would it be weird if.. could I hold you maybe?”

His words lingered in the air and your mouth parted in shock, something he must’ve sensed considering his hand tensed in yours and immediate regret passed over his face.

You didn’t want him to pull away from you just yet so you were acting quickly before you’d fully processed what he was asking and how strange it was. You rolled back onto your side, facing completely away from him and for a second you wondered if his heart dropped thinning you were upset with him for asking you.

Then you were scooting backwards in his direction and glancing over your shoulder waiting for him to take the hint, meeting his gaze finally and watching as understanding passed through his eyes. You quickly looked away, face flushing almost uncomfortably hot and it only worsened when his arm was hesitantly draping over your waist.

He was slow at first, like he was testing to see if you’d push him off or change your mind but when he seemingly decided it was safe he got bolder.

A small surprised noise slipped out of you when he was tugging you back tighter against him, his front completely against you and you felt him tucking his head into the crook of your neck. He breathed in a low sigh of relief and tightened his arm that was around you, instinctively squeezing like he’d finally gotten a breath of fresh air.

You were thinking back to what Jake had said now for the first time since it had happen just a few hours ago, the boy hinting that you had done something that awoken a new side of your best friend.

You wrestled with the idea that Heeseung was potentially touched starved before you ran your fingers through his newly bleached hair so softly, recalling the way his eyes had widened as he absentmindedly leaned into your touched like he was mesmerized by it. It made more sense to you with every passing second now considering the way he was holding onto you so tightly, like he was afraid you’d slip away from him.

“Is it too weird?” He was muttering from behind you and you shivered at the feeling of his breath on your neck.

You were shaking your head and trying to clear your throat to respond to him but you found yourself unable to form any words, overly aware of how close you were and the fact his hand was fanned out against your side.

To make matters worse he started to move again, clearly not content with just holding you against him. His hand was shifting against you and pulling at the large tshirt you were wearing, pausing for a second when he realized it was his but not saying anything about it. At first you were confused with what he was attempting to do but he pulled it up so it was resting near your ribs, leaving your stomach exposed.

You could tell he was propping himself up slightly behind you considering his face wasn’t tucked into your neck anymore and you felt overwhelmingly shy knowing he was looking at your bare skin, his large hand tracing down the dip of your waist and watching the way goosebumps rose to the surface.

Heeseung had seen you in lots of states of undress, walking in on you changing a dozen times and seeing you in bathing suits more than you could count but it felt miles more intimate in your current situation.

You glanced behind your shoulder again at him to find him already looking at you, a look in his eyes that was too loaded for you to want to unpack it right now.

Thankfully he laid back down and shifted his position, tapping you so you could lift your body off the bed a bit and he could slide his arm underneath you. This made it so he was completely hugging you around the middle and because he had tugged your shirt up his hands were left resting on your bare stomach.

Despite the heavy touching and the way he was watching you a few seconds ago, it didn’t feel sexual at all. If anything you almost felt like you could cry from how innocent and intimate the whole situation was. You realized you’d been just as desperate to touch him despite instinctively running from him in fear of what it meant.

Or more realistically, what it didn’t mean for him.

Regardless if he felt the same way as you did, if his heart was beating out of his chest with love and longing that had been buried down deep since you’d first heard him laugh, it definitely meant something important to the both of you.

He was tucking his face back into your neck, moving your hair to the side so he could hook his chin over your shoulder and you could feel his heart beat against your back, anything but still. You placed your hands shakily over his that remained still and warm on your stomach, stroking his knuckles softly and letting yourself stop thinking just for a moment.

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung #heeseung drabbles #heeseung x reader #enhypen fluff #heeseung enhypen #enhypen au #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fic #enha fluff #heeseung fluff #heeseung imagine #heeseung au #heeseung fanfic #heeseung fic

2K notes · View notes

viennakarma · 3 months

Text

Satisfaction [Part 2]

PART 2 OF SATISFACTION

Summary: Four times Lewis tried to apologize, and one time he didn't need to.

Word count: 4.3k

Tags: female!reader, apologetic!Lewis (finally), physiotherapist!reader, a little bit of romance, Lewis is trying, reader is more forgiving than the author would be, cursing, a bit angsty, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Note: I'm so sorry for taking so long with this! I had a writer's block specifically with this one. For everyone who sent me asks about it, I read everything, sorry if I didn't reply to all! Luckily, one dramatic anon sent me an ask saying they would graduate college with a doctorate before this came out, and it made me laugh out loud BUT it actually sparked something in my brain and I managed to write, lol. So, thanks, Dramatic Anon, I owe you one :D

I'm sorry if it's rushed or full of mistakes (haven't had the time to proofread).

Find me on Twitter!

“Hey, Lewis! How are you doing?” Angela said as soon as she picked up his call, and Lewis held his breath before answering.

“Yeah, uh, I’m alright-”, he scratched his face nervously.

“I hope you’re not giving Y/N a hard time anymore, yeah?” Angela joked a little, her voice light.

“Oh. You know about that?”

“Yeah, I called her a few days ago to check in how’s the work and she mentioned you were not very receptive,” Angela said and Lewis noticed that, even saying that, you didn’t call him what he was. A complete prick. “And since she didn’t call again, I assumed things got better between you two.”

“Well, about that-” Lewis sighed, not knowing.

“What?” Angela paused, her voice suddenly serious again.

“She resigned. And it was entirely my fault.” He ripped the band-aid off.

“Lewis, what the actual fuck?!”

“I was awful to her. Way worse than I assume she told you. And before you call me every name under the sun, I need to contact her and apologize. Unfortunately, she blocked my number now, so if you can kindly let me know her address, so I can apologize.”

“You better fix this mess, Lewis.” Angela said before ending the call, as less than a minute later, a text popped up on his screen, your address. Which was in London, not very far from his own neighborhood.

Lewis sent flowers to your place with a small note apologizing and asking you to unblock him. When you didn’t answer and didn’t unblock him, he called the florist he had ordered to double check if you had received the flowers. You did. So you just didn’t want to talk to him. He kept sending a bouquet every day for the next three days. On the fourth day, as he was back home, he decided to go to your place himself.

He brought another bouquet, ringing the bell in your house. He rose the bouquet to cover his face, and he heard your voice, opening.

“Hi there, buddy! If I give you a hundred pounds, would you not bother bringing these flowers here? Just- throw them on the bin or something-” You stopped abruptly as the flowers lowered revealing not the young delivery man who’s been bringing flowers to your place every single day, but Lewis Hamilton himself.

“So you’re not even receiving the flowers?” He asked, sounding hurt.

“I got the first one, and I have no interest in anything that comes from you,” you managed to say, looking him straight in the eyes.

You looked exhausted, your hair was messy and your face lacked any makeup. But worse of all, you looked hurt and angry.

“Wait, let me just- let me apologize, I can explain even if it’s not-” He dropped the bouquet, pleading.

“Just fuck off, ok? You have not a single reason to be here today.”

“I was an ass to you and-”

“And now we’re nothing. We are just strangers, nothing more, nothing less. Fuck off!” You said and didn’t even give him a second before slamming the door on his face.

II.

So the flowers were a no.

And he wasn’t sure where to go from that, since he couldn’t come up with any other way to make you at least give him a chance to talk.

He was still trying to think of something when he crossed paths with Oscar Piastri during media day. Lewis stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the rookie driver munching on a little protein bar, the package showing it was the same as you had offered him weeks earlier.

“Hey, there, Oscar!” Lewis greeted him, “if you don’t mind me asking. Where did you get this?” He pointed to the little package in his hand.

“Oh, Lando’s new PT! She’s covering for Jon as he’ll be a few weeks on paternity leave.”

“Oh, is she here?”

“At McLaren, yes.”

Lewis nodded, going straight there, not bothering with explaining why he was there just walking in. He found you in a small room with Lando. You were guiding him through a stretching session with a silicone stretching. Lando was telling you something and you were laughing, a hand on his shoulder as Lando pulled his arms in and out.

“-no way you said that! Poor thing, she must have been scared!” You said, then you two laughed.

You were looking healthier than the last few times he had seen you. You looked like you had been sleeping well, and your hair was pretty, and you were wearing make up.

As Lewis approached, and you noticed his presence, you stopped laughing, face getting serious and focused on Lando.

“Oh, hey man!” Lando greeted him, smiley and unaware of the thing between you two.

“Hi. Y/N, can I talk to you? I just need one minute then I’ll leave you alone.”

You scoffed but didn’t look at him, and Lando looked from your face to Lewis’ confused with the tension suddenly so thick he would be able to cut it with a knife.

“Y/N, can you just-”

“You’re all good, Lando. Tomorrow we do another session an hour before Free Practice, and then a stretching session between FP1 and FP2.”

Lando nodded, unsure of what to do so he just watched as you turned away and packed your bag, leaving with long strides through the door.

“Mate, I don’t know what the fuck you did, because I’ve never seen her be mean ever since I met her. Good luck, though, seems like you need it.” Lando said, leaving to the opposite side.

Lewis muttered “fuck” before going after you. He found you outside the motorhome, and ran up to block your path, but he miscalculated and you ended up running straight into him.

“What the fuck? Dude, just leave me alone!” You tried walking past him but he blocked you again.

“Please, I’m so sorry! Really, I am, I was such a dick to you and you didn’t deserve any of that.”

You didn’t look at his eyes, adjusting your bag as you sighed.

“I just- I don’t understand why you are doing this. I’m no one, I’m nothing. Just go on about your life.”

“No, no- You’re not nothing. I’m really sorry for the way I treated you when all you offered me was kindness.”

“Fine! Ok.” you muttered, seemingly exhausted, “Can I go now?”

He knew you didn’t actually forgive him, so he just let you go because he didn’t want to pressure you into something you were visibly not ready for. It didn’t mean he would give up, just that he needed a different approach.

III.

Lewis managed to find out that you’d stay a few more weeks working with Lando, so he arranged a well crafted plan to have you listen to him.

Desperate times asked for desperate measures.

So he managed to talk Lando into letting him drive you to the track that weekend, you two would have time to talk on the drive. He waited behind the wheel watching as you went to the backseat to leave your bags, then you opened the passenger door, smiling and chatting. But you stopped smiling as soon as you sat down and noticed him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, sounding more annoyed than angry.

“I’m your ride to the track today.”

“I’d rather not,” you muttered, removing the seat belt you had just put on.

“There’s no one else to take you there, please, just let us go,” he asked softly. You sighed, putting on the seat belt again and he smiled reaching the cup holder and offering you a cup of coffee, “got you a coffee.”

“Thanks,” you took it begrudgingly, but as you took a sip, you noticed it was your favorite, “how do you know I like this coffee?”

“You told me, during one of our sessions.”

“I thought you weren’t listening to a single word I said,” you scoffed, almost disdainful. He took it, because taking your anger was little compared to what he did to you.

“I listened to you.”

“Weird way of showing, then.”

You stared at the road he was softly driving. You didn’t like his company, that much was clear, but he was on a mission, and he would be damned if he wasn’t going to properly apologize.

“I don’t even know why you treated me like trash,” you muttered suddenly, sniffling like you were trying to contain the tears, “just- I was so happy, you know? I’ve always been a fan of Formula 1, watched it growing up and everything. Then I get here all happy to achieve the greatest dream and I just get treated like shit from day one. I tried to be funny, I tried to be kind, I tried to be silent, and none of it worked. I don’t understand what you want from me now! I’m a person too, ok? I get sad and frustrated, and I have my own problems, but I don’t go around making everyone else’s lives shit just because I’m mad!”

“Yes, you are right. I treated you like shit when you never deserved it. I really regret it, for what it's worth,” He sighed, looking at you for a moment before focusing on the road, “my life was shit. I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth. I was just coming out of a relationship that I thought meant a lot to me, and I just lost Angela, who is one of my closest friends, and I was on the verge of losing my seat. It felt like everything was going wrong for a few weeks.”

That made you pause, turning to stare at him.

“What do you mean, losing your seat?” You sounded genuinely curious, and even a little worried.

“The negotiations for a new contract weren’t going ahead, and I was really worried Mercedes was going to get rid of me.”

“But you’re like- one of the GOATs! Why would they lose you?” Now you sounded exasperated, like you couldn't believe that.

“Well, now everything is alright and signed, but it felt like I was really at risk back then.”

You stayed silent for a few minutes, mulling over his words, trying to wrap your head around his excuses. You were thoughtful the rest of the drive, until Lewis pulled up in a parking lot at the track. Finally, you nodded to yourself.

“I forgive you, Lewis. Just- Don’t do that to anyone ever again, it’s not cool,” you said, unlocking the seat belt, “thank you for the ride and for the effort in apologizing. Goodbye, Lewis.”

You took your bags from the backseat and left after waving at him again. It felt like a closed chapter to you, and you could bury whatever resentment you felt towards him. It was freeing in a way.

IV.

Lewis didn’t see you for a couple more race weeks, despite casually walking in front of McLaren’s garage and hospitality. He couldn’t catch a glimpse of you and he genuinely worried that your last goodbye was definitive.

Fortunately he saw you again late at night after a race. Almost everyone had left already, and Lewis had a long debriefing meeting with his team, so it was sheer luck to find you on the way to the parking lot, where you were standing against the wall, hugging yourself under a big coat and holding your bags. You seem worried and unwell.

“Hey,” he said, trying to sound like he wasn’t ecstatic to see you again, “are you ok?”

“Yeah, um- I missed my ride back to the hotel, so I’m trying for an uber or something,” you said, but Lewis unnoticed how you were pale and your lips looked dry.

“Are you sure you’re ok? You look like you’re about to pass out.” He pointed, and you breathed in, slowly. You felt very, very cold, with shivers up your body that you miserably trying to contain.

“I’ve got a little fever,” you mentioned, finally. Lewis raised his hand and touched your forehead, feeling it way more warm than a little fever.

“Little fever? You’re burning!” He exclaimed, putting his own Mercedes coat over you, then taking your bags and putting them over his shoulder, “Come on, I’ll give you a ride back.”

“You don’t have to, really-”

“I’m not leaving you here in the late hours of the night while having a fever! Now, come on!”

He held your forearm, worried you’d stumble and fall or something. With a big umbrella to face the rain, he guided you to his car, where a driver was waiting. The two of you sat on the backseat as Lewis instructed the driver to take you to the hotel.

“Should we take you to see a doctor or something?” Lewis asked.

“No, don’t worry, I already took an antipyretic. It should work soon.”

Back in the hotel, Lewis accompanied you up to your room even when you wanted to refuse, but he said he was worried, and it felt honest, so you let him take you up. He didn’t let you say anything as he pushed the door of your room and walked you inside.

“Are you still feeling cold?” He asked.

“Yes,” you put your bags away, but you watched as Lewis went into your luggage, “um- excuse me?” you crossed your arms, annoyed at him going through your things.

“Change into this, it will keep you warm,” he tossed you a sweater and matching pants, “I’ll ask room service for soup, so you can warm up.”

Huffing, you went into the bathroom and changed, glad because you were in fact a little bit warmer. You wore socks for the cold and got into bed, where Lewis helped tuck you in, pulling the duvet tight around you.

“Why are you doing all this? We’re just strangers, Lewis.” You shook your head, watching as he walked around the bed and sat beside you over the duvet.

“We’re not strangers, and I wanted to help,” he shrugged.

“We are strangers, we know nothing about each other,” you muttered.

“Well, I’m Lewis, my favorite color is purple and I have a dog named Roscoe,” he said which made you chuckle a little, “there, not strangers anymore.”

“Well, I’m Y/N, my favorite color is yellow and I don’t have a pet yet, but hopefully soon.”

Lewis eyed you carefully.

“I know you’re with McLaren on a temporary contract, so I was wondering if you’d be willing to come back to Mercedes after that,” he said, slowly. You sighed, shaking your head.

“I won’t go back, Lewis.” You said softly, for him to know you weren’t angry anymore, but the world had spun, life went on…

“But- Ellie said you were such a big fan! It’s ok if you don’t want to work with me anymore, I’ll understand. But I don’t think it’s fair that you lose your chance in such a big dream because of an asshole like me!”

“There are always other dreams to have, Lewis. When a door closes, others may open,” you untucked your arm so you could hold his arm in comfort. He held your hand, and when he felt your cold hand, he rubbed it softly, to warm you up.

“It’s not fair-”

“Lewis, I’m moving to Madrid in a few weeks.”

He stopped, visibly deflated hearing your words.

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve never-”

“Lewis, it’s not because of you,” you pushed the duvet, freeing yourself so you could sit up beside him, backs to the headboard, “I got an amazing offer from Real Madrid. I’m gonna join their PT team.”

“Oh.”

His stomach dropped once again, thinking that life would lead you two different paths, new future, new plans, and Lewis won’t even be able to make it up to you through time as he was hoping for. Lewis expected that, with you coming back to Mercedes, he would have time to apologize with actions, more than just words.

“They’re my favorite football team, and I’ve always dreamed of getting there,” when you noticed how down he was with the news of your departure, you pressed his hand a bit more, “I told you there are many dreams to achieve.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about it if I hadn’t been so-”

“That’s enough, Lewis, it has nothing to do with you. This is my choice, something that I also dreamed of. It’s not the end of the world. If anything, there are lessons in what we went through.”

He wanted to ask you to stay, to give him and the Mercedes dream one more chance, but he knew it would be selfish of him to ask that. And he wasn’t willing to be selfish with you anymore. He would only have maybe a few more weeks with you, that he intended to nurture a friendship with you.

When your soup arrived, he stayed and watched you eat, and you thanked him profusely as the meds started working and you felt the fever dissipating.

Lewis ended up going back to McLaren to find you all the time. Sometimes he brought a coffee for you, some other times he just wanted to invite you to lunch, or he wanted a protein bar, and after almost two weeks of that, his excuses ran dry and he only said he wanted to check on you. and he had been checking on you for a couple more weeks now.

“So…” Lando muttered with a knowing smirk, “you and Lewis, uh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, as you spotted Lando from behind, analyzing his squats.

“You went from hating him to becoming his friend pretty quickly,” Lando pointed.

“And…?”

“I don’t know but he’s here all the time to see you.”

“Nah, he’s just passing by.”

Lando let go of teasing you and switched topics to talk about something else for the remainder of your session. After you finished and Lando went for the post race debrief, you were getting ready to leave when Lewis found you again.

“What do you want?” You squinted your eyes at him. Lando’s teasing voice still in your head.

“Moody, are we?” Lewis joked, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

“Lewis.”

“Fine, fine! I’m taking you to dinner later today, ok?”

“Are you asking me out or demanding?” You frowned, pretending to be moody.

“I’m inviting you and implying I’m not taking no for an answer,” He winked.

“Lewis, I don’t think we-”

“Think of it as a farewell, celebratory dinner, yes? You’re leaving so soon to Madrid! Pretty please?” He joined both hands like he was begging.

“Fine. Stop pouting.” You rolled your eyes and he giggled, before leaving.

He texted you two hours later saying he was coming to pick you up. You dressed cozy and comfortable, since it was absolutely not a date. He texted you to let you know he was downstairs when you were finishing with your hair. As soon as you got in the car, you checked Lewis’ outfit.

“Is this ok?” You asked, pointing at yourself.

“It’s perfect.”

Lewis drove for forty minutes to the next town over. In the end, he took you to a cozy restaurant, small, a little cramped but so familial and cozy. You two sat in a corner booth, far from the windows. You went over the menu as Lewis explained that this place’s food tasted homemade and they also had vegan options, so he always went there whenever he was in that part of Italy.

You told Lewis everything about your move, how you had found a great apartment close to work, how you had enrolled in Spanish classes to start a month after your arrival, and everything.

After a hearty meal and chatting a lot, you two decided to go for a walk to eat some ice cream. The air was windy but not very cold, so you just walked side by side a little late at night.

“Are you sure nobody will see us?” You looked around to see if anyone had recognised him or had taken pictures.

“Yes, it’s very discreet in this part of town. Besides, it’s a little late, so not many people are around.”

“This is a very good gelato, Lewis! Thanks for taking me out today.” You muttered as the two of you walked around a big, dark park. You stood under a lamp post, finishing the last of your ice cream.

“How are you feeling about Madrid?” He asked you, looking interested.

“Nervous. Excited. I don’t know.” You whispered, smiling, you held the lamp post and let it take your weight as you flung around, all smiley because of the bit of wine you had at the restaurant, “It’s like a new adventure. You know when you’re about to do something that might be risky but gratifying? You’re scared but you have to-”

As you completed a full 360 around the lamp post, you were met with Lewis walking up to you and kissing you. He pressed his lips to yours, firm but tender, and it took you a while to assimilate what was happening. You held his coat and pushed him away only enough to break the kiss. The lime gelato kiss that had your stomach full of butterflies, and your heart beating almost out of its cage.

“Lewis-” you shook your head, still confused.

“Sorry, I- I just couldn’t pass on the opportunity,” he sighed and his breath fanned your cheek.

“We shouldn’t,”

“Why not?” He raised one hand to cradle your face, his thumb running your cheek.

“Because we started too messy. And- and I’m leaving soon. We don’t need to complicate things.”

You whispered, still not pulling away fully. You wanted it, so bad. But you knew you couldn’t get tangled in a messy situationship right before leaving. He was tempting, but you weren’t willing to risk whatever time was left of your silly little friendship.

So you took a step back. Still, you took his hand in yours, letting his warmth engulf you.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat, but you just smiled at him, seeing how he was memorizing your face, and how your eyes were shining bright for him.

“It’s ok. Just, wrong place and wrong time, right?”

He gulped, nodding.

You didn’t kiss again, but Lewis held your hand the whole drive back to Monza.

Understandably, Lewis didn’t come back for your last week at McLaren. Despite being a little hurt about his absence, it didn’t really upset you, deep down you knew that it was better like this. The distance would make the goodbye easier for the man who wormed his way into your life. The whole team at McLaren gave you a farewell cake, which was sweet considering you were just a temporary hire.

You had tears in your eyes saying goodbye to the team and to the formula 1 track.

After that, you went back to London to finish packing, and shipping a few of your furniture and belongings. The dinner with your family and closest friends was filled with tears, and you finally caught up with Angela, explaining everything that had happened.

When the day came, your parents and siblings took you to the airport and you said goodbye with teary eyes and a heavy heart.

You were about to board when a sudden commotion caught your attention, and from between the crowd Lewis Hamilton emerged, running towards you as if he were in a marathon. Confused and shocked, you waited for him to get closer, and as soon as he stopped in front of you, he held your face with both hands and pulled you in a kiss. After two seconds, you returned the kiss, deepening it by opening your lips. He devoured you for a couple more seconds, before pulling away when you were both panting.

“Lewis? What the fuck?”

“This doesn’t have to be a goodbye, right? We can- I don’t know, we can figure it out,” He muttered, face close to you.

“Lewis,” you hesitated, “I’m moving away. We’ll spend most of out time in different time zones-”

“Wouldn’t you like to try? It’s better to try than spend our lives haunted by what ifs” His argument was convincing. And the fact that he was just centimeters from your face, and the fact that you had just kissed and his cologne was divine… Very tempting.

“Lewis, the next time you cause a scene in front of an entire airport, I’m killing you,” you whispered, pecking his lips once more as the crowd dissipated of people boarding the plane.

“I wanted it to be memorable, like a romcom.”

“You’re annoying, that’s what you are. You’re lucky you’re handsome” You rolled your eyes, but Lewis could still see the big smile on your face, eyes glinting.

“Is that a yes to my question?”

“One date, Hamilton. And we’ll see where it will go from that” You smiled, pushing his chest, taking a step back.

“I’m going to Madrid as soon as the triple header is over,” He promised, pulling you close again by the waist.

“You better! I don’t know, maybe I will meet a handsome Spaniard,” You joked, playing hard to get. You closed the distance so you could whisper in his ear, “You better work if you want any prize, pretty boy.”

He gasped at your seductive words, and you pushed him away. He smiled at you. Pulling one of his necklaces, he put it around your neck, a pearl one, very beautiful. The airport called all the passengers for the flight.

“A promise. Yeah?” He said, holding the necklace softly.

“Yeah. See you soon?” You nodded.

“See you soon.”

He watched as you walked away, and before boarding, you turned around and blew him a kiss. He laughed, pretending it hit him right over his heart.

TAG LIST: @mirrorball-6 @chanshintien @icysdiary @nat-lh-44 @aphroditeisamilf @sugardontbesweet @nonsensical-nonsence @slytherheign @luv4kani @18754389 @lorarri @verew @honethatty12 @smartstupyd @moonraysworld @chanelxreid-blog @gemini5991 @comfortzonequeen @blue1amory @soryuwifeyxx @anangelwhodidntfall

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #fic talk #f1 #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #formula one #formula 1

618 notes · View notes

adams-angels · 2 months

Note

Hello dear writer! Whenever you have time would you consider doing a fluff and maybe smut piece about how Adam would be on a restaurant date? I’m so curious how he would act since they didn’t have dates when he was alive a trillion billion million years ago.

And Valentine’s Day has me way up in the feels 🥹

Thank you bebe 🩵

A bit late for Valentine's day but better late than never babes 😎 this was longer than I was expecting 🫢

💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖

Valentines

It's been a while since Adams been on a "date" if you could even call it that. The last "date" he had was with Eve in the Garden of Eden. So... Yeah. A while might be an understatement. He also hated the day. Like many holidays. Why should SaInT vAlEnTiNe get a whole holiday after him?! Adam is the ORIGINAL dick. If anything there should be a holiday celebrated for HIM. But, whatever. You were into it. And he was into you.

He was so nervous when he asked you out for Valentine's day. He waited until last minute before finally getting the courage to ask. Ten o'clock at night he frantically knocked at your door. You hurried to answer, the panic filled your body at the knocking. It was desperate, like someone needed help. When you opened the door and saw a panting Adam you were confused. Was he hurt? Before you could say anything he put his hand up to your face signaling you to not speak as he caught his breath. It was odd why he was out of breath. He flies everywhere. Did he run? "Be- huff- will you- jesus, fuck- pant-" his hand were on his knees as he choked on his breath. "Ada-" hand in your face. Rude. He straightened himself out, at least as much as he could in the small apartment hallway. The apartment was made for smaller Winners not 8 foot Giants like Adam. "Be my Valentine?" He panted out. Of course you said yes! What can you say? You've been crushing on him for, like, ever! You never picked up that he likes you back. Even though he was never subtle. "Cool- pant- text you the deetz." He shot you some finger guns before leaving.

So now it's Valentine's day! 💘 Cupid's shot his arrow and hit you. You're feeling fun, flirty, and feisty. You put on your cutest outfit and checked yourself in the mirror. Is cute what you're going for? It's your first date. But it is Valentine's day. You don't wanna be prudish. You change into something a bit more revealing and again checked yourself. This might be a bit too sexy.. slutty even! You don't want to give the impression that you put out of the first day! Even if you do. No. This needs to be perfect. You think to yourself... "I bet Adam isn't having this much trouble."

You weren't wrong. Adam was much more relaxed. Too relaxed. Why would he be nervous? He's the man. In fact he was out right now looking at new guitars. When he left the store he saw Valentine, surrounded by his Cupid's. "Augh." Adam grunted, not wanting to interact with the Saint. "Adam!" Shit. "A little birdy told me you've got a Valentine's this year. It's been what? Centuries?" Valentine laughed. Adam rolled his eyes, then glared at him. "Yeah? So what? I figured it's a good way to get free pussy." Adam shrugged as a cocky grin formed on his face. The Cupid angels surrounding Saint Valentine cringed. "Oh, Adam. Come now! This is a holiday of love and romance. Not cheap pickups!" The man placed a hand on Adam shoulder which he immediately shrugged off. "So, are you going anywhere special? Have you bought the lucky angel flowers? Chocolates? A gift of adoration?" "Uh.. what?" "You haven't bought them anything have you?" The man laughed, putting his hand on Adams shoulder again pulling Adam closer. "Good luck getting fucked, playboy." He hissed with a wicked smirk. Valentine released Adams shoulder laughing. "Happy Valentine's days!" He said before flying away with his cupids. "Motherfucker!" Adam's flew off to the nearest store to get you some flowers.

When he arrived the flower section was bare. Maybe one half dead rose. "What the hell?" He flew all over the store looking for anything Valentines related. "No, no, no!" He stopped in one of the aisles before finding worker. "Hey! Where the fuck is the stuff?" "S-stuff, sir?" Adam gestures around the store. "You know! The fucking Valentines shit! Where is it?!" The poor retail worker fretted telling him there was nothing left. "V-valentines day is o-one of the most popular days of the year sir... There's nothing left.." "NOTHING LEFT?!?!" Adam yelled. His voice booming around the store causing shelfs to shake knocking almost everything off. "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN NOTHING LEFT?! I NEED SOMETHING FOR TONIGHT!!!" "I - I'm sorry, sir!" The poor angels voice shuddered. Adam groaned, balling his hands into fists. He was about to leave before he noticed a bottle of soda that hadn't fallen. He pushed it off the shelf for good measure before storming out of the store.

He wasn't going to spend all day looking for shit of this shitty holiday. He hated it. This was dumb! He's gift enough. Still, he takes his phone and texts Lute

"URGENT! flowers! Plz get 4 me thx dngrtits"

That'll do. He heads home to get ready for your date.

～⁠♡✧⁠｡ I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! ｡✧⁠♡～⁠

The time comes and Adam is waiting outside of your apartment building, he's not walking up all those stairs again. He was feeling cool. Calm. Collected. Until he saw you. His hands started getting clammy, his heat racing. You look so pretty. You of course found the prefect in-between of cute and sexy for your outfit. "Heeey, you could of made an effort." He joked. You frowned. You thought you did well. He clears his throat. "Let's go." He wiped his hands on his robe before taking flight with you following after.

You both arrived at the restaurant. Neither of you stop on the way. It was awkward. He walked in first, he didn't hold the door open for you. Rude. Once inside you noticed the restaurant was jam packed. Adam also noticed this and froze. "Good thing you booked, right?" You said, playfully, hoping to break some tension. "Uh... Yeah... Wait here, surgartits." He walked over to the host. "I need a table for two." The host scoffed. "Yeah, sure. We've got one available tomorrow." Adam was fuming. This was all going wrong. This can't go wrong. "Do you fucking know who I am?!" He raised his voice. "I'm fucking ADAM! I'm the fucking man! And I want a damn table!" You walk over. "Adam?" "What, bitch!? Fuck! Can't you see I'm busy?! I'm getting us a table!" He yelled at you. No. Nope. You're too good to be yelled at. This was meant to be fun. Fuck this. You put your hands in the air. "Nope. I'm out." You turn on your heels and exit the restaurant. "Wait- no, y/n." He looks as you exit then back at the host. "I'll ruin your fucking life, cunt." He hissed before flying out of the restaurant.

He looks around and you were no where to be seen. "Fast fucker. AUGH!!!" He stomped his foot covering his face with his hands. If he wasn't wearing his mask he'd be pulling his hair.

You got yourself home. Fucking shit day. Dumb idea. You don't even know why he asked you. The whole thing was dumb. Everything about it was dumb. You collapse onto the couch, sulking. It doesn't take long before there's a knock at the door. Adam you suspect. You roll your eyes before peeling yourself off the couch. Opening the door you see Lute. Huh. "Uh.. hi?" "Adam requests your presents. Put on this blind fold." She hands you a blindfold. "What?" She didn't repeat herself. She never does. You groan, knowing she won't leave until you do it so whatever. You put the blindfold on and lute takes your wrist and flies off with you ragdolling.

Once your feet touch the ground she lets go of your wrist. Leaving you there blindfolded. "Uh.. you can take that off now." You do, to see a candle lit picnic layed out. It was adorable, there were fairy lights on the trees. Adam stood there, awkwardly, with a bunch of your favourite flowers. How did he know? Lute. "Uh. Surprise.." he handed you the flowers. "Sorry, about the restaurant. Fucking idiots double booked or something.. I don't know." He shrugged. You know it wasn't true. He didn't book, you know that. But you smiled. "Thank you, Adam. This is much nicer." He smiled and stretched. "Well, what can I say? I know what I'm doing."

You sat on the blanket, Adam did also and popped open a bottle of champagne. "I got the good stuff." You smile at the gesture although you always thought champagne tasted disgusting. He got all the good stuff, strawberries and chocolates. Cheese board. Cute little cakes. "This is all very well thought out. How did you get this so quickly?" You asked. He shrugged with a smirk. "I'm just that good, babe." Lute. This was more his style anyway. Outside, under the stars. It reminded him of the Garden.

"so, this was fun." He rubbed the palm of his hands on his knees. "I'd much rather not do this Valentine's bullshit though. Maybe next time we can just... Do it whenever?" "I'd like that. Although, this Valentine's day has turned out pretty perfect." You smile. "Well. I am perfect so." He smirks at you. You don't want to stroke his ego anymore than you already have. You roll your eyes before quickly giving him a peck on the lips. "you're alright, I suppose." You took his sweaty hand in yours and led down, he followed. You both watched the stars in silence. He'd gently squeeze your hand every now and then, you'd squeeze back.

"Happy valentine's, Y/N."

"Happy valentine's, Adam."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel adam smut

346 notes · View notes

dirtytomatoedwrites · 11 months

Text

Preludes and Nocturnes - Part 1

Paring: Rafe Cameron x InnocentPogue!reader

Summary: Rafe discovers your hidden talent and now he has seen it, you have his full attention.

Warnings: 18+ Smut. Dark!Rafe. Virgin!Reader, Romance, Angst, Dub-Con, Fingering, squirting. Not Proof-Read so mistakes are my own.

Word Count: 9k words (Yo it took me months to write but I finally did it)

Author Note: Hello lovelies! So this is an original idea I’ve had for a while now... and this is the longest fanfic I’ve ever written for a character. Who did I write this tale about Rafe motherfucking Cameron of course. HA! I may do a part 2 but we’ll see based on the response it gets. Love you all and thanks for reading and listening - there’s music in there too so if you can listen to the tracks as you read it’ll heighten the experience. 🫶 Enjoy!

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

Rose, elegant and poised as ever, fiddled with Ward's bowtie. It was a futile attempt to straighten it, and you wondered if the Kooks knew how ridiculous they looked, their privileged lives spent fussing over trivial things.

"Do you play?" Ward's voice was casual, but his eyes betrayed a glimmer of interest. He had seen you eyeing the piano in their opulent living room before, and it was clear he suspected you had a musical inclination.

"A little," you replied, shrugging nonchalantly. You didn't want to give too much away. The Kooks had a tendency to pry, and you had learned the hard way that it was better to keep your guard up.

The Camerons were pleasant enough, but like the other Kooks on Figure Eight, they didn't really care about the Pogues. You had grown up being told that Pogues were different from Kooks, but as you got older, you realized it was more complicated than that. The Kooks were narrow-minded, lacking empathy and understanding. They saw the Pogues as nothing more than servants, there to cater to their every whim. It was a toxic dynamic and one that you had learned to navigate with caution.

The key to survival on the Outer Banks was invisibility. You had learned that early on. The less you revealed about yourself, the safer you were. So you didn't tell Ward that your father had started teaching you piano before you could even walk. You didn't tell him that music was your escape, your solace, your everything.

"Well, a bit of something is better than nothing," Ward chuckled, his eyes flickering back to you. "I bought it thinking it would be nice to have music in the house that wasn't rap or pop, but you know how kids are." He chuckled again. "No one seems interested in learning how to play it. If you want to try it out, our door is always open."

The Kooks were the quintessential chameleons, expertly donning the cloak of benevolence and charity. But behind the facade lay their self-centered motives, concealed in plain sight. In their company, you had to be just as duplicitous as them, your true self lost in a sea of artifice. So you donned your own mask of deceit, feigning a grin while burying your true feelings behind a veneer of politeness.

As the grandfather clock in the hallway struck six, Rose and Mr. Cameron stepped into the warm North Carolina evening, dressed to the nines for their elegant black-tie affair. You were left behind in the kitchen with Wheezie, chatting aimlessly about everything and nothing. A comfortable silence settled between you.

"Want to watch a movie, Wheezie?" you asked, but you already knew the answer.

"Maybe next time? I'm having a Stranger Things watch party with my friends. We're on season three, actually," she replied as she pulled out her phone and began texting.

"Oh, that's cool. Sure, let me know when you're hungry and we'll order in."

A few minutes later, you were left alone in the kitchen, grappling with the void of the next five hours stretching before you. Your gaze was inexorably drawn to the open double doors of the living room, and a force beyond your control tugged at your heartstrings.

There, in the corner of the Camerons' living room, stood a magnificent black Steinway & Sons piano. A work of art that you had only seen in fleeting glimpses on the internet, played by virtuosos with mastery beyond compare.

The Camerons' piano was an exquisite piece. Valued upwards of forty thousand dollars, it was a show-stopper that begged to be played in a prestigious concert hall. And yet there it sat in their living room, untouched and unloved.

With a fluttering heart, you approached the baby grand piano, drawn by an unconscious force beyond your control. As you lifted the fallboard, a heady scent of wax and mahogany wafted into your nostrils, creating a longing you could barely contain. Your fingertips brushed against the smooth, pristine ivory keys, unable to resist the urge to touch. As you pressed down on one, a crystalline note filled the air, flawless and true. Before you could even think, you were seated on the bench.

Back straight and feet planted firmly on the floor, you thought about all the classical pieces you had practiced over the years and loved to play. How each piece would sound hollow on your cheap, antiquated piano in your small family home. Music was your first love, and you longed for the day to play on stage accompanied by the New York Symphony Orchestra.

Closing your eyes, you allowed your mind to wander, imagining a sea of faces, a packed audience hanging on your every note. In your mind's eye, you saw your dad sitting in the front row, his gaze filled with pride and love. The thought of his reaction, a validation of all his sacrifices over the years, filled you with purpose.

Driven by your distant dream, you let your fingers glide across the keys, effortlessly weaving a tapestry of sound that flooded the Camerons' living room with music.

With meticulous attention, you listened closely to the dynamics of the piece. You noticed the way the Steinway amplified the subtlest variations in volume, imbuing the composition with a melancholic mood. Your fingers moved with practiced ease, executing intricate runs and arpeggios with fluid grace.

Enraptured by the music, you let the notes wash over you. Every facial expression was a reflection of the emotional journey unfolding before you. As the piece reached its crescendo, your fingers moved faster, striking the keys with greater force, a physical manifestation of your emotions. Your hands flowed in flawless harmony with the rhythm, pouring your soul into the music. And with the final notes, you laughed breathlessly, basking in the afterglow of your musical outpouring.

But your blissful moment was cruelly interrupted as you suddenly sensed you weren’t alone. Your eyes snapped open, and a cold wave of fear washed over you.

“Shit! I am so sorry,” you stammered, your voice trailing off in a rush of apologies as you gingerly lowered the piano fallboard.

“You know,” Rafe’s words were laced with honey, each syllable slow and sweet, yet there was no mistaking the menacing undertone to them. “We don’t take kindly to people touching our things,” he drawled, his intense gaze locked onto yours, a warning glimmer lurking within his dark eyes.

“I… I had permission from your dad,” you insisted, your words barely audible above a whisper as you tried to defend your actions.

His response was a dismissive chuckle. The atmosphere was taut with tension as he nonchalantly propped his golf bag against the wall. Leisurely slow, he sauntered over to you, his hands casually tucked away in his pockets.

“What were you playing anyway?” he inquired, his tone deceptively relaxed.

“You mean the name of the piece?” you swallowed hard, fear palpable. “It’s called Nocturne in C-sharp Minor.”

The tall blonde squinted at you, and you could not decipher his expression. Wanting to avoid further irritation, you slowly rose from the piano bench and dusted it off.

“What kinda name is that?”

“I… I…” you stammered, blood surging in your ears from fear as Rafe suddenly leaned in and lifted the fallboard. He scanned the keys, perhaps checking for any scratches. You took a deep breath. The scent of his expensive cologne and freshly mown grass overwhelmed your senses.

“I don’t know. It worked for Chopin, I guess.” You said quietly.

“Chopin…” he said with his lip jutted.

“He’s the composer. He wrote it and-”

“I know Chopin,” Rafe interrupted, his eyes suddenly locked on you. Up close, you could not deny that they were a striking shade of blue, if not for the death glare he gave you. “Chopin, Beethoven, Einaudi, Bach…” He backed away and sat in a nearby chair. “Brahms… I’ve been to enough of those long-ass concerts to at least know their names.”

You felt a confusing mix of awe and jealousy as you listened to Rafe’s words. The pit in your stomach proved this. You had never been to a proper symphony concert, and the school concerts you had attended were barely amateur. The thought of your dad’s broken promise to take you to one was a constant source of frustration. However, Rafe’s casual disdain for the very concerts he was lucky enough to attend seemed to be a new addition.

“Well… I’m not getting paid to mess around on your piano,” you said with a wry smile, as you tried to mask your emotions.

“You’re right. You’re not,” Rafe retorted while he twisted the gold signet ring around his index finger with his thumb. Head tilted to the side, his eyes raked over every inch of you, from your hair, your oversized sweatshirt and jeans to your worn knockoff Converses. You felt self-conscious under his intense scrutiny. He made you want to crawl into a hole and hide.

“I… I should check on Wheezie,” you whispered, eager to escape the tension in the room.

“Why?” Rafe asked, halting his twirling of the signet ring. His face appeared bemused until a sly grin tugged at his lips. “Weeze is a big girl, right? Might as well… play Chopin while she’s doing her own thing…”

As you babysat for the Camerons, you occasionally spotted Rafe in the vicinity. Sometimes, he was accompanied by a striking beauty, while other times he hung out with his friends. Even when he was alone, his body language was a clear warning: "Keep your distance." His piercing gaze made you feel diminutive and unimportant, as if any attempts at interaction would be met with cold indifference. In his presence, you felt like you were navigating hostile terrain, just a misstep away from a precarious situation.

"Well?" he said, leaning back in his chair and tapping his lower lip with a finger. The gesture seemed to carry a message, but what message you weren't sure. What was certain was that his expression of amusement made it evident that the outcome was secondary—he was simply enjoying watching you squirm.

Your tongue darted out to moisten your parched lips, while anxiety twisted in your gut as you stared nervously at the grand Steinway piano and Rafe. The weight of his words lingered in the air, causing you to hesitate and consider the potential consequences of your answer.

Every which way you looked at it, you were fucked.

Rafe was bound to tell his parents, and you were sure enough about to lose your job once they found out. Despite Mr. Cameron's outward kindness and willingness to accommodate, you knew very well that playing their piano without supervision was not within the bounds of your permission. And he certainly would not appreciate you lying about it either.

Still, you were determined to make the most out of a shitty situation. You weren't trying to prove anything to Rafe, but if this was going to be your last time playing a Steinway, you would go out in style.

You had chosen a haunting, evocative melody, a tale of lost love and longing. The notes rang out, clear and true, as your fingers danced over the keys.

Closing your eyes and shutting out the world and Rafe, you allowed the music to flow from your fingertips, guided by instinct and emotion. Your touch was delicate yet confident, breathing life into the haunting melody.

After the last notes of the piece hung in the air like a delicate mist. You held your breath, waiting for some kind of response from Rafe, but all you got was a deafening silence. The room felt like it was closing in on you, and you couldn't help but cast a quick glance in his direction.

Rafe's eyes bored into yours with an intensity that made your heart stop. You shifted uncomfortably, feeling exposed under his scrutinizing gaze. When you finally lowered the fallboard, the tension was so thick you could practically cut it with a knife.

"I should check on Wheezie," you whispered, breaking the silence.

Rafe made no reply, and you took that as permission to leave. When you returned downstairs a half hour later, Rafe was nowhere to be seen and you sighed in relief.

In the best-case scenario, Rafe would keep your little transgression to himself. In the worst-case scenario, you could explain to Mr. Cameron that curiosity got the better of you and seek his forgiveness. Either way, you vowed never to touch their piano again.

"What's on your setlist today, piano girl?" Rafe's voice caused your heart to skip a beat, and you nearly spewed out the orange juice pooling in your mouth. A mere week had passed since your previous babysitting job at the illustrious Cameron residence. Yet here you were once again, feeling a pang of anxiety at the mere sight of him. You had desperately hoped to avoid any interaction with Rafe for the remainder of your shift, but fate had other plans in store.

There he was, sauntering into the kitchen, sporting an obnoxiously bright salmon polo shirt that clashed horribly with his teal shorts, and finished with a backwards baseball cap. Despite his frat boy appearance, you couldn't help but admit that he looked undeniably handsome. The realization hit you like a brick and left you feeling inexplicably uneasy.

"Excuse me?" you sputtered, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Rafe's gaze shifted towards the living room, where the Steinway was waiting behind closed doors.

"No, I don't think it's a good idea," you said, your voice trailing off as you watched Rafe roll his eyes.

"Whatever," he drawled with a dismissive flick of his wrist, exuding an air of nonchalant superiority as he strode out of the kitchen.

You parroted his words under your breath, feeling frustration boil inside you. Despite his insufferable demeanor, you chose to let it slide. After all, you needed this job, and with a week of smooth sailing under your belt, you suspected that Rafe had kept your little piano incident under wraps. You weren't about to jeopardize your livelihood over a petty disagreement with Rafe Cameron of all people.

Just as you were considering taking refuge in the kitchen to avoid Rafe, the sound of a key being struck on the Steinway echoed through the kitchen, beckoning you towards it.

You stepped into the living room, a bundle of nerves and anticipation, only to find Rafe sprawled in the same chair as before. The piano's fallboard was already raised. Its ebony and ivory keys gleamed in the warm light of the setting sun. Rafe's piercing gaze locked onto yours, then flicked towards the piano.

"Do you want me to play something?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe shrugged, looking uninterested. "Do you want to?" he asked, his voice dripping with boredom.

"I don't mind, I guess," you replied, chewing your bottom lip.

If you were to be completely honest with yourself, you were desperate for another chance to play the Steinway. There was a piece that you couldn't get out of your head, and you knew it would sound magnificent on it. You did not need to be asked twice. But at the same time, you were no fool.

You had heard whispers about the "Kook King." Infamous for settling disputes with his fists, not for acts of kindness. You had no idea what was taking place here or why Rafe was suddenly allowing you to play the Camerons' prized possession. But despite your internal warning bells that this could be a trap, you put your glass of orange juice on the floor next to the bench. Consequences be damned.

Taking a confident breath, you aimed to kill.

As you hit the final notes of the composition, the silence was shattered by Rafe's ragged breaths. Your eyes locked onto his, and you saw a flicker of something in his gaze that was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"I've been working on that one for a while," you said, trying to sound nonchalant despite his stare. "I know it's not perfect, but I-"

"No, it's good," Rafe interjected with a croak. "You're good."

His words validated your talent, and a rush of excitement surged through you, causing a grin to spread across your face as you basked in his praise. But the moment was short-lived as Rafe pulled out his phone and started scrolling, his demeanor shifting from impressed to cold indifference. Without warning, he abruptly rose from his seat, an air of superiority emanating from his towering frame.

"Tell Rose I'm having dinner at Top's," he drawled, his voice dripping with aloofness as he looked down his nose at you.

"Sure, okay," you stammered, still reeling from his sudden change in behavior.

Without another glance in your direction, he strode out of the room, leaving you to wonder what the hell just happened.

It became routine. A ritual. Embedded in your weekly visits to the Cameron residence.

Each time you babysat Wheezie, the air would fill with the soothing sound of classical music, as you took your place at the Steinway and brought the keys to life. Rafe, either in the background or seated nearby, listened intently. His brooding demeanor was a stark contrast to the beauty of the music.

As the weeks went by, playing the Steinway became a treasured routine, and it wasn't just the music that captivated you. With every note played, the invisible barrier between you and Rafe seemed to thin. Despite his reserved exterior, there was a subtle shift in the room when he was around, a magnetic pull that drew you closer to him until one evening, a simple question from him sparked a conversation that would change everything.

"Where did you even learn to play like that?" Rafe asked as the sun cast its final rays of light into the opulent living room, painting the space with a breathtaking array of orange, pink, and purple hues.

You had just finished playing a piece by Bach. The air was still thick with the lingering notes of the Prelude as you closed the Steinway lid.

"There's barely electricity on the cut. Far less for piano classes, and even if there was, you can't—you can't teach this, know what I mean? Well, not the way you play it anyway." His tone shifted, taking on a new quality of—dare you think it?—admiration. You couldn't help but wonder if the beer he was drinking had anything to do with his slip of the tongue and the emotions that seemed to seep through in his words.

You cast your eyes to find Rafe leaning forward in his chair, said beer bottle in hand, his hair falling into his face and his eyes laser-focused on you. There was an intensity in his eyes that made you feel like you were being seen, truly seen, by him. But as much as you were flattered by his attention, something lurking in the depths of his gaze made you feel uneasy, and you weren't entirely sure why. You brushed the stray thought aside.

"My dad taught me." You said with pride in your voice. "Did you know they used to have jazz nights at the Wreck?" You turned your body towards Rafe, eager to share this piece of history. "Back then, it wasn't called the Wreck. Anyway, my dad used to play there every night from seven until midnight until the Carreras took over. Now he works on the big oil rig in Burnsville."

"Does he still play?" Rafe asked.

You hesitated for a moment, realizing you were oversharing with Rafe Cameron of all people. But something about his presence made you feel comfortable enough to continue. "No, after my mom left," you trailed off, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "He just gave up on music altogether."

Rafe looked down, his expression unreadable.

"I guess I'm trying to keep the tradition alive, in my own way. It's not jazz, but he approves." You smiled softly. "Anyway, what about you?"

Arresting blue eyes flicked up at yours, and your stomach flipped.

"What about me?" he asked, his voice low and husky, dripping with curiosity and challenge. He leaned back in his chair, the rattan creaking beneath him. He lazily ran a hand through his blonde hair, revealing his chiselled features. You weren't sure why, but the gesture felt calculated. As though it was meant to entice you. And yet you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest as you drank in the sight of him.

"No offense, but you don't look like the type to be into..." you waved your hand towards the piano, trying to deflect his gaze and lighten the mood.

"Yeah? What do I look like I'm into?" Rafe purred seductively, his tongue swiping his top lip. His eyes fixed on you. You didn't miss his tone. The double entendre just beneath the surface, if you were bold enough to respond to it. You were sure the alcohol running through his veins had something to do with his sudden flirty behavior. Tomorrow, he'd probably forget the whole thing. But it still didn't stop the butterflies from dancing in your stomach.

"I...I..."

"Go on, don't be shy," Rafe coaxed, his eyes dark and intense, almost daring you to take the bait.

"I don't know," you breathed out a laugh, suddenly feeling flustered and self-conscious.

"Yeah, you do." Rafe said, his tone low and teasing. "Saying I don't look like the type means you have a type in your head. So, let's hear it. What kind of man do you think I am, Y/N?"

You were certain this was not about music anymore, and you felt way out of your element. What were you supposed to say about that? You decided to keep the conversation neutral and err on the side of caution.

"Okay," you nodded as you shifted on the bench. "You look like the type to be interested in other types of music, you know like rap or hip-hop, rock— even country and western, anything but this."

Rafe looked away with a chuckle, a deep rumble that made your skin tingle. He nodded slowly, pondering your words.

"Does that sound bad? I know it sounds awful. I'm sorry." You cringed.

"Nah, it's pretty tame actually... innocent even..." Rafe murmured more to himself than to you. You shivered as his piercing blue gaze met yours, then slowly traveled down to your lips, neck, and every inch of your oversized t-shirt and cardigan to your jeans-covered body.

He cleared his throat, his voice low as he spoke. "And you're not wrong. Classical music was my mom's thing. She loved it." He said taking a swig of his beer.

"Oh," you breathed out, taken aback by the unexpected answer. Suddenly, the pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place. Why Rafe was always so engrossed in the music each time you played. The wistful expression that crossed his face whenever he heard familiar pieces of music. It was like a window into his soul, a glimpse into a hidden part of him that he kept from the world. And just as you pieced together your thoughts, Rafe spoke, confirming your suspicions.

"We used to go to the mainland to see 'The Four Seasons' or 'Carmen' or some other shit like that. I don't know, it reminds me of her, I guess. Takes me back to happier times." Rafe shrugged, a hint of sadness in his eyes as he sipped his beer.

"I'm sorry..." you whispered.

"Nah, don't be. She was sick for a long time, and now she's... Anyway, It's all good now." Rafe replied with a forced nonchalance, a fragile façade attempting to conceal his true emotions.

"So, you listen to classical music for nostalgia..." you whispered, your voice tinged with a touch of melancholy.

“I guess you could say that,” Rafe said thoughtfully, tilting his head from side to side as he considered your words. He scrunched up his face, eyebrows drawn together as if he had tasted something bitter. “But I'm not a classical music aficionado or anything. It’s not like I’m requesting it in the club. Can you imagine that shit? Right after 21 Savage fuckin’ Mozart on blast. I’d get jumped.”

"I don’t know, you might start a trend," you smiled.

“Sounds like you want me to get jumped”

You outright laughed at that one. “Well, it depends, do you deserve it?”

“Oof” Rafe countered, clutching his chest faux wounded. “That was good.”

You shrugged with a smile, feeling an unexpected kinship with Rafe of all people. Here was this tough, brooding guy who, beneath the surface, was incredibly sentimental and even had a sense of humor. It was a sweet and surprising discovery.

"What about you? Why do you play?" He asked, his blue eyes roaming across your facial features slowly, curiously, when your laughter had died and all that was left was contented silence.

"Good question. Why do I play? Well, I guess for me... it's about the emotion," you replied, your fingers tracing the Steinway keys without pressing them. "Each note, each chord, each composition tells a story. It's like I'm a part of that story, and I get to bring it to life. You don’t need words you just… feel it.”

Rafe nodded, understanding. "I get it. You're the storyteller. The piano is your instrument channelin’ that shit.”

"Exactly!" you said, touching your nose and pointing to him with an earnest laugh.

"Exactly," Rafe repeated with a soft chuckle, his gaze fixated on you.

“Hey, how come I never see you at bonfires?” Rafe asked, a mischievous glint in his eye one sunny afternoon when Rose and Mr. Cameron went out for drinks with friends, leaving Wheezie in your care.

“Bonfires just aren’t my thing,” you replied with a shrug.

“What, no friends to hang out with?” he teased.

“I have plenty of friends!” you retorted, a hint of a smirk playing at your lips.

“Friends that I’ve never seen you with,” he pressed.

“What do you mean ‘friends I’ve never seen you with’ are you stalking me around town?”

“Maybe I am...” he shrugged a small devious smile curled his lips. “Whatever. Well, my friends and I clearly hang out when you’re not around,” you shot back, a playful smile lighting up your face.

“Sure you do,” he drawled, a chuckle rumbling in his chest.

Rafe leaned forward against the piano, the sun casting a warm glow on his handsome features. You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed, and how the muscles in his arms flexed under his t-shirt while he absentmindedly tapped his index finger on the piano lid.

“You know, there’s more to life than playing music,” Rafe said, his voice low and smooth, as he turned the words over with his tongue. His finger tapping the lid, became slower, more measured.

“Oh, I know that,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “I have plenty of other things going on.”

“Yeah? Like what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Like studying,” you said, trying to keep a straight face as Rafe scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I’m actually quite serious about my grades.”

"I wouldn't expect anything less from a good girl," Rafe chuckled. Once again, his comment caught you off guard. Although you knew he wasn't mocking you, it still felt strange that he felt the need to mention what he perceived was good girl behavior. “Seriously though, you should have some real fun too. Do some shit you probably shouldn’t do. Life’s too short to be cooped up not living it.”

You shrugged, unsure of what to say. Rafe had a point, but you weren’t sure if bonfires were the kind of fun you were looking for. Still, there was something about the way he looked at you that made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn’t help but swallow nervously. As if reading your thoughts, Rafe leaned closer.

“You know, I could show you a good time if you want.” Rafe’s voice was low and husky as he leaned in close, his minty breath fanning your cheek. While he had flirted before, this time there was a sober earnestness to his words that made your heart race. But before you could even formulate a response, the front door's slam cut through the thick tension.

Rafe straightened himself, briefly glancing towards the hallway before fixing his gaze back on you, his jaw tightly clenched in irritation. With determined strides, he purposefully walked away, the sound of his long steps resonating down the corridor, while you unintentionally caught snippets of his familiar argument with Sarah.

It seemed Sarah had developed an interest in John B, a guy you had seen around town, but Rafe vehemently disapproved due to his “pogue” status. You couldn’t fathom why he held such strong opposition, especially considering that you, too, were a Pogue. Had he conveniently forgotten? Or did he consider you an exception?

As you closed the lid of the Steinway, an inescapable curiosity filled your mind about what set your relationship with Rafe apart. Maybe he only saw you as a friend rather than a romantic interest the way Sarah felt about John B.

Reluctant to admit it to yourself, the thought pierced through, leaving you with a confusing mixture of disappointment, anger, and self-annoyance for even entertaining the idea that Rafe could ever feel that way about you.

As Rafe persisted in berating his sister, you dismissed any contemplation of what might have happened between the two of you if she had arrived just a few minutes later.

“Hello?”

“I'm in here.” Rose’s voice, sharp as a razor’s edge, resonated through the foyer of the Camerons’ residence. As you entered the kitchen, you discovered her gingerly picking up the remnants of a shattered vase from the tiled floor. You offered to help her, but she brushed you off with a dismissive gesture.

“No need, honey. I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” She said, smiling unconvincingly.

Mr. Cameron burst into the room a few seconds later. His dominating presence charged the atmosphere, his eyes glinting like ice. It was only when his eyes landed on you that his demeanour changed.

“Oh, Y/N. Thanks for coming on such short notice. We’ll only need you for two hours. Sarah should be back by then.” He smiled, though it did not reach his eyes.

“Uh, sure. Of course.” You replied. You scurried out of his path as he snatched a file and car keys from the kitchen table.

“I’ll be in the car.” He informed Rose tersely, eliciting a stiff nod from her.

Feeling Rose’s disquiet, you intervened to clear the shattered vase. “I can pick these up for you, Rose.” You said warmly.

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” You assured her with a nod.

“Thank you.” She murmured, her smile returning. “Wheeze is upstairs doing her homework. I’m sorry about all of this. Things are a bit crazy today.” She said, her grip on her bag and sunglasses tightening as if she were holding onto her sanity by a thread. And with that, she vanished, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the shattered pieces of the vase.

Having cleared the wreckage, you climbed the stairs to find Wheezie immersed in her studies in her room, her headphones firmly in place. You inquired if she needed anything or was okay, but she appeared blissfully unaware of the chaos that had unfolded. You marvelled at her ability to concentrate amidst the turmoil, yet you couldn’t dispel the nagging suspicion that the Camerons hid a dark secret beneath their façade of rich superiority. With a sigh, you left Wheezie to her schoolwork and descended the stairs as the sound of the living room door being opened roused your suspicions.

As you passed the living room, your heart sank at the sight of Rafe. He was sitting on his usual chair, swaying back and forth, lost in a jumble of incoherent words. His eyes were bloodshot and streaked with tears. You hurried towards him, your mind racing with worry and fear. You sat down on the floor in front of him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

He responded with a roar that shook you to your core. The words that spilled out of Rafe’s mouth were like knives, cutting deep into your soul. He berated himself with a ferocity that was frightening, how he was a failure in his father’s eyes, how he was nothing but a disappointment. You placed a comforting hand on his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze, trying to offer some solace amidst his torment.

His eyes flicked to your hand, then to your face, as if seeing you for the first time. Rafe’s jaw tightened, his eyes raw with emotions you couldn’t decipher. There was anger there, yes, but there was something else too – something deeper, more primal.

“Play something.” He suddenly demanded.

“I can- I can get someone for you. Do you want me to call your-”

“No. I don’t want that. I want you to play.” He almost sneered at you.

“Okay.” You whispered tentatively.

You made your way to the piano, your fingers trembling with anticipation. As you began to play, the haunting melody flowed from your fingertips.

As the tender notes from the piano enveloped you, the outside world ceased to exist. Within the protective cocoon of the Cameron's living room, you hoped your music might be a balm for Rafe’s pain. But this sanctuary of sound was violently shattered when an aggressive tug at your hair ripped you from your reverie.

Suddenly, Rafe was there, his fingers cruelly ensnared in your hair, exerting a force so savage it wrenched your head backward, choking off your breath and stilling the music in one brutal tug. The once harmonious room was now charged with an electrifying tension, your eyes captured and held hostage by the ferocity in his.

This was not the Rafe you knew.

The Rafe towering above you appeared utterly transformed. Unrecognizable in every way. Gone was the Rafe who had shared countless evenings filled with laughter and sharing stories. Gone was the anchor that made you feel connected and safe.

Instead, frustration etched itself onto his face like a battle scar, while his dilated pupils revealed an intensity you had never witnessed before, oscillating between your fear-stricken eyes.

His gaze dipped to your parted lips as you let out the breath you were holding, and before you could react, before you could appease him, Rafe captured your lips with his.

You froze. Paralyzed against Rafe's lips. Shock stole your breath away.

Time stopped in an instant as you grappled with the thought that this was a dream, a surreal nightmare. But that fragile notion shattered like glass as Rafe's movements became evident. His lips melded against yours like clay taking form. Hard and desperate, his kiss abruptly catapulted you back into the chilling reality that this was, without a doubt, happening.

Your instinct for survival surged as your fight-or-flight response kicked in. You attempted to push him away, but Rafe tightened his grip on your hair and yanked harder, forcing your submission, his tongue plunging into your mouth when you whined in protest.

The taste of alcohol on Rafe’s tongue was bitter and overwhelming. You tried to convince yourself that this was the reason behind Rafe's behaviour. Any moment now, he would realize his mistake, any moment he would let you go. But instead, Rafe's fingers sank into the hollow of your jaw, holding it open while his tongue explored the warm interior of your mouth.

You whimpered softly as his tongue twirled against yours with ferocity. Rafe adjusted his hand in your hair and gripped tighter, making you cry out as pain surged through your scalp and neck. The sound didn't deter him, as he forced your head back drinking from your mouth greedily.

Discordant notes rang out as you lashed out wildly, reaching for anything you could hold onto for balance. Your hands found Rafe's bicep and you dug your nails into his skin, trying to pull his hand away as he kissed you like a man possessed.

Your entire body was inflamed with sensations you had never experienced before as pleasure and pain bled into one. Your scalp ached yet your body felt hot. Your nipples were suddenly sensitive to your sweater's scraggly wool while you ached between your legs for something you had not experienced before. The whirlwind of sensations new and overwhelming within you made your eyes flutter shut on their own, your hands sliding up Rafe's wrist as you held on for balance.

Rafe's mouth worked over yours with an intensity so raw that your protests turned into breathless moans and frantic gasps as you succumbed to his kiss. Your tongue tentatively meets his stroke for stroke. Rafe growled in approval and you could feel him smile into the kiss, his tongue stoking the fire deep within you and just as quickly as it started, Rafe abruptly pulled away leaving you shaking and struggling for air.

Your heart raced within your chest as you abruptly pushed yourself off the piano bench, nearly causing it to tip over in your haste. Hand clutching your chest, you struggled to catch your breath, hastily wiping away tears that had unknowingly streamed down your cheeks.

A fleeting glance at Rafe revealed his heavy breathing, his mouth agape in quick, shallow pants, and his pupils dilated, tinged with a faint hint of blue. Yet, it was the expression etched upon his face that sent a wave of terror crashing over you.

Rafe's eyes showed no remorse.

Instead, you saw an overwhelming hunger within them that made your blood run cold. Rafe’s gaze moved down from your stunned face over your trembling body. The danger that emanated from him made your knees buckle.

You took a step back, your mind whirling with fear and apprehension. But Rafe stepped forward, his eyes locked onto yours with determination.

"I-- I need to check on Wheezie. See what she'd like for dinner," you whispered, your voice shaking as you inched backwards toward the door. You turned to run but it was too late.

Rafe reached out and snatched the hem of your sweater, yanking you towards him. You struggled to break free, twisting and thrashing like a scared kitten in his grip but Rafe was relentless. His other hand reached for your waist as he pulled you close. His nose and lips trailed the back of your neck and into your hairline and he groaned as he breathed you in. With a jab of your elbow into his rib you wriggled free. It wasn't enough to wound him but it gave you the head start needed to run.

You dashed from the room, Rafe's pursuit relentless. His outstretched fingers grazed your sweater, narrowly missing its mark. It wasn't until you sprinted up the stairs that he abandoned the chase. You didn't need to glance back to feel his gaze on you. The tendrils of his breathless laugh reverberated down the corridor.

You burst into Wheezie's room, a hot mess of tears and fear. You made up some excuse about feeling unwell and had to go home immediately. After calling Rose and arranging for a replacement babysitter for Wheezie, you sat in her room and waited for the sitter to arrive.

You didn't see Rafe when you left, and you thanked God for that. You knew that if you saw him, you would break down crying, and you couldn't bear to show him any more weakness. But the tears came anyways, hot and heavy, as soon as you got home. How could you have been so stupid? You knew all the rumors about him, knew that he wasn't a good guy, and yet somehow, you thought in your warped mind that he was different. A decent human being who was simply misunderstood.

It wasn't like you didn't see the signs. They were always there, staring you right in the face. The blatant flirting, the staring, the way he undressed you with his gaze. You dismissed every red flag, thinking he couldn't like you in that kind of way because you were not the type of girl Rafe Cameron would go for and you certainly weren't the type of girl Rafe Cameron would kiss.

And it wasn't just the kiss that scared you. It was the fact that Rafe had no intention of stopping. It was the way he held onto you, the way he made you feel like you were drowning in a sea of desire. He was a predator, relentless in his pursuit of you, and as you thought about how he grabbed onto your clothes his lips tracing your neck even as you protested you couldn't help but cry even harder.

No. There was no way you were setting foot in that house again. Not after the way Rafe kissed you, not after what he was determined to get out of you.

Over the next few weeks, Rose's texts kept coming, each one more insistent than the last. But you knew better than to give in to her demands. You couldn't go back to that house, not after what had happened with Rafe. It was too dangerous, too risky, and you couldn't afford to let your guard down again.

You thought about telling her what had happened with Rafe, but the thought of it made your stomach turn. How could you explain what had happened without sounding like a fool? That you had been hanging out with her stepson for months, that you had let things get out of hand?

You had every intention of never setting foot in that house again. But then Rose sent you a text, asking if you were available on Saturday. They were desperate, she said, and willing to offer triple what they usually paid. Rafe and Sarah were going to a game and the lady who was supposed to look after Wheezie had a family emergency.

You were going to turn them down, again, but the truth was that since you had dropped them as a client, it had been difficult to find other work. So, against your better judgement, you agreed, but only after Rose confirmed that she and Mr Cameron would be home long before Sarah and Rafe returned.

As the day of the babysitting gig approached, a sense of foreboding settled in the pit of your stomach. You knew that you shouldn't go, that it was too risky, too dangerous. But the promise of easy money was too tempting to ignore. And so, against your better judgement, you found yourself standing in front of the Cameron's house once again, your heart racing with a mix of fear and anticipation.

As you approached the front door, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Rose had texted you on your way over, telling you that she would be getting ready and to let yourself in. But when you rang the doorbell and received no answer, you began to worry. Still, you didn't think anything of it when you turned the door handle and found that it was unlocked. You stepped inside and called out for Wheezie and Rose, but the house was silent.

Making your way to the kitchen, you put down your bag and pulled out your phone. You texted Rose and Wheezie to let them know that you had arrived and were in the kitchen, just in case Wheezie was plugged in. But as you waited for a response, your heart sank.

Something wasn't right. You could feel it.

You had been to the Camerons' house many times and had let yourself in on a few occasions when they were too busy to answer the door. None of this was new but it felt different. An ominous feeling washed over you. But just as you began to worry, the sound of footsteps in the hallway interrupted your thoughts, and you sighed in relief.

As you called out for Rose, a sudden hush fell over the room, broken only by the sound of footsteps approaching. You looked up, hoping to see Rose's familiar figure, but instead, your eyes met the last person you expected to see: Rafe.

His presence was jarring, like a thunderclap on a clear day. Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to make sense of his unexpected appearance. But before you could utter a word, Rafe's murmur cut through the silence like a knife.

"Nah, not Rose," he said with a smile.

Fear took hold of you as you realized that he must have had something to do with Rose's texts in the first place. You stepped back, fear making your knees buckle.

"Where's Rose?" you whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively, as if shielding yourself from him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he drawled, his voice low and dangerous.

“Don’t come near me,” you said firmly as Rafe rounded the kitchen island towards you. Immediately, you moved in the opposite direction away from him.

“I… I just… I needed to talk to you, like, a little bit. Is that okay?” he said, opening his hands to placate you.

“Did Rose actually text me?”

“She did,” Rafe soothed. “But then I, uh… I heard you’d be here tonight instead of Pat, and well… seeing you was more important to me than some game.” His eyes trailed over your face, studying your every reaction.

“Where’s Wheezie?”

“With Sarah.”

You shook your head, your mind reeling with disbelief. How could Rafe have orchestrated this situation for you to be alone with him without any of the Camerons noticing? But as if he heard your thoughts, a sly smile curled his lips and he chuckled softly.

“I told Rose I’d watch over Wheeze so she could catch an early ferry,” Rafe explained, his hands moving in slow, deliberate gestures, connecting invisible dots as he spoke. “After Rose left I gave my ticket to Wheeze.”

You felt like you were going to be sick.

“Look, I know the last time I was a little… a little intense…”

“Intense!” You choked. You would have laughed if the whole thing wasn’t so heartbreaking.

“Yes, and I’m -- I'm really sorry about that, okay? I really am.”

"You tried to ra-”

"No! No, no, I would never..." Rafe rushed towards you and you immediately backed away. He froze mid-step as you cowered, his hands still raised in surrender. "I’m sorry things were confusing and it looked that way but I wasn't trying to hurt you. God, I- l’m-" Rafe sighed, deflated his hands landed on his hips, he looked away as he pressed his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

"You're sorry it looked that way?" you whispered your voice trembling. Rafe's words echoed in your mind while memories of that day in all its menacing glory flooded back. You looked at him flabbergasted.

"Rafe...you... you were kissing me-”

“I know but I-”

“And touching me--"

He breathed out a laugh "Come on, you know I was only-,"

“Without my consent, Rafe.”

He was silent with that and you hoped your words had finally sunk in, had finally made him understand how terrifying he was in that moment.

“Then you chased me. You chased me like some...” you couldn’t even finish the sentence. You didn’t know how to finish the sentence. You were so hurt and confused. That your friend could do something like that to you. “I don’t even know who you are. I- I don’t think I ever did,” you whispered.

Rafe's eyes landed on yours with that. His gaze was dark and intense, and for a moment, you thought you had gotten through to him because he nodded slowly. But then he let out a humourless chuckle, reminding you of the one he gave post-chase, and any hope of reaching him dissipated.

"You know, it’s funny ‘cause you say that...” Rafe said coldly, a hand gesturing to you as if trying to grasp his own thoughts “But you’re not entirely innocent in all of this, are you?”

“I don't-- I don't understand."

“Do you have any idea what you're doing to me, huh, Y/N?

"Raf—"

"What kind of mental shit you put me through? Nah, you don't. You don't think about that, do you?" he asked, his hands gesturing toward you as his eyes narrowed and he stared you down. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you realized the gravity of Rafe's words. It was as if he was confessing to a darker truth, a mental anguish that he had been helplessly consumed by, something unintentionally sparked within him by your actions.

"I have my dad on my back talking about legacies, our family business and preparing me for that shit meanwhile Sarah’s running around town doing god knows what with some loser fucking up our family name. I have real shit to deal with...” he gave out a bitter laugh his hand clutched to his chest as he confessed.

“But even with all of that all I can think about every minute of every fucking day, is you.” Rafe's voice was raw and anguished. His hand moved up to his ear as he slowly walked towards you.

"It's like you've crawled into my brain, you know? Like I’m under some fucking spell with your music and your voice and your-" His eyes trailed down your body just as his hand followed the motion, and you shuddered. He was consuming you with his gaze every sinful thought etched across his features.

"Nah, you made me do this…” he said bitterly, his jaw clenched tight.

“Rafe--”

“You did and now I'm the bad guy because I had a moment of weakness. But you know what? Fuck, it.” he shrugged nonchalantly. “Fuck it, i’ll take responsibility for my part in this--”

“Rafe--”

“That’s what real men do, right? Take responsibility for their shit and I’m all about being accountable, so yeah, I kissed you.” He said nodding slowly. “But I’m not sorry.”

His words made you recoil, disbelief etched across your face as you stared at him.

“Yeah, you want me to pretend like I am. Act apologetic but I won’t. I'm not sorry and you should quit actin’ like you didn't enjoy it."

His words were like a punch to the gut, and you could feel the weight of his accusation settling in your stomach. Stunned, you opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out. A dry, humorless laugh left you instead. Rafe simply nodded slyly as he resumed his steps towards you, and as you stepped backwards, your back collided with the kitchen counter.

“That’s- that’s not true.”

“No?” he asked faux confused.

“It’s not- that’s not fair”

“Isn’t it?” he tutted.

"Rafe, listen to me," you whispered shakily, but he was already leaning in, his eyes dark and clouded.

"No. No, no, you listen.” he rasped, circling in and looking down on you, his lips pouted as he leaned into the shell of your ear, “You were moaning Y/N- No, don’t do that. Don’t shake your head, and act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Don't stand there and pretend this whole fucking thing is one-sided. You were moaning into my mouth… and you...you held on to me, yeah? I didn’t force you to do those things."

"Rafe--”

“That was all you princess. So you gotta ask yourself. What kinda girl are you to be into that, hm?” Rafe whispered as he leaned into you. “What kinda girl would moan like a whore when a guy manhandles her…”

“I didn’t- I wasn’t. I wanted you to stop Rafe and you-”

Rafe chuckled before you could even finish your sentence.

“Is that what was happening while you were kissing me back? Nah, see I know what your problem is. I know, I know, I know…” he repeated softly, as he gently rested his hands on your hips. “I know why you ran when deep down you wanted it.”

You opened your mouth to protest only for Rafe to push his body up against yours. The hard wall of his body renders you speechless. “We eye fucked each other for months,” he whispered, as he looked down at you. His eyes darted to your lips as he licked his own. “You wanted it.” He said coldly.

"But I get it. It was overwhelming... too much... too soon... hm?" he murmured as his nose grazed yours. "I should have approached you more patiently. I realize that now," he acknowledged with a slow nod. "I should have been gentle with you, and I had every intention to. But I -- I wanted you so bad that day that I couldn't think straight. I'm thinking straight now, though."

“Rafe...” you breathed out, your hands on his chest to push him away but not quite having the strength to do so. Rafe must have picked up on this because he leaned in, his lips close to yours.

“You keep saying my name but you’re not telling me to stop...” Rafe whispered as his fingers caressed your cheek. With a gentle touch, he lifted your chin, and you willingly yielded. His caress made you sway, your mind growing hazy and confused. To regain your balance, you closed your eyes.

“Why aren’t you telling me to stop, hm?” he whispered.

You could feel the electricity between you as Rafe leaned in, lips hovering over yours and you tilted your head up slightly, closing the distance, only to be met with nothing. When you opened your eyes, you were met with Rafe’s hooded ones a victorious smile creeping across his lips.

“Come on” Rafe whispered, and before you could protest Rafe laced his fingers in yours and gently tugged you towards the living room.

Seated at the piano, Rafe smoothly lifted the fallboard with ease.

"Play something for me," he husked, gesturing for you to take a seat beside him on the bench. You felt a flutter of nervousness as you perched yourself next to him, unsure of where to start. You couldn't comprehend how you had gone from rejecting his advances to this moment of willing compliance and acceptance.

Rafe watched you intently. You had been up-close to Rafe before, but never this close. Not this intimately. Your mind became blank, overwhelmed with the prospect of playing for him.

"I...I don't know what to..." you stuttered.

"Anything, anything at all," Rafe whispered, his eyes studying your every move.

Taking a deep breath, you steadied your trembling fingers on the keys and began to release the notes, slowly at first, but gaining confidence with every passing moment.

“I noticed you, you know,” Rafe rasped. His knuckles suddenly grazed your cheek, and you flinched. “The first time you came to babysit Wheeze, I noticed you.” Rafe followed his knuckles as he moved them across your jaw.

“I remember thinking you were beautiful… shy… innocent…” Opening his hand, his fingers trailed down your neck, and your breath hitched.

“You were wearing this exact sweater…” His fingers splayed over your collarbone as they moved slowly down to your chest.

“What are you hiding under here, hm?” he asked softly. “What are you hiding under these baggy clothes?”

You shied away from his touch, your hands withdrawing from the keys of the piano.

"No. None of that. I’ll tell you when to stop,” he said his voice stern yet soft. Your eyes glanced at his as Rafe inched closer. “I’ll tell you when to stop.” he iterated slowly. “Start again.”

Swallowing you placed your hands on the keys while the music resumed from your fingertips.

Rafe shifted closer his leg flushed against your own. He wrapped his arm over the back of you and hooked it to the other side of the bench. Leaning in, his nose ghosted your neck.

“Raf-”

“Shhhh…”His nose nudged into your hairline. His other hand on your chest continued its exploration. It moved lower cupping your tit over your sweater. The gasp you make made Rafe breathe even heavier, a deep pur coming from the back of his throat.

“Please-” you whispered shakily.

“I’ve always wanted to touch you, you know that? Every time you played I’d think about what you’d feel like... what you’d look like, moaning for me. I wanna hear you moan for me.”

Determined Rafe’s hand moved lower until it dipped under your sweater. Deftly he fumbled under your t-shirt and you gasped when his warm fingers brushed the skin of your stomach. His other hand let go of the piano stool and was now under your sweater squeezing your tit through your bra.

“Rafe--”

“Keep playing” he whispered against your neck and you did. His hand at your stomach moved lower, finding the button on your jeans he unbutton it with one deft move and your hands falter.

“Keep playing” he murmured, face nudging into your neck, his lips pressing soft kisses to your throat. “I wanna hear you play while I touch you”

The sensation of Rafe's hands on your body was almost lost in the overwhelming numbness that had taken over you. His strong hand leisurely tugged at the waistband of your panties seeking to touch what lay beneath, while his other hand snaked under your bra. He caressed and teased your nipple until a soft sob erupted from you as pleasure surged through your veins.

Rafe moved his hand lower, slipping it between your wet folds and pushing his middle finger inside of you. You cried out, the intensity of sensation causing you to clutch onto Rafe's arm for support, music abandoned.

“It’s okay “ Rafe breathed deeply into your neck, as he roughly peppered your neck with kisses. “You're okay. Just breathe...” and as he said those comforting words he gently wormed another slender finger passed your slippery folds and into you.

You hissed, trying to move away from the burning stretch of his long fingers. Your nails dug into the flesh of his wrist with enough force to draw blood but Rafe determined as ever slowly moved his fingers in and out of you, each time inserting them a little deeper until it reached his signet ring.

"You've had more than one finger before?" he asked hotly against your neck. You shook your head no, gritting your teeth in an effort to endure him stretching you further still. Rafe groaned and nipped softly at your jawline, "Fuck, I can tell. I can barely move them. But you're a good girl, aren't you? You're taking them well and afterwards, I'm gonna train you to take all of me."

Rafe's lips trailed tender kisses down the length of your neck, then his mouth closed hungrily around the sensitive skin. His two fingers moved inside you and each slow thrust drew a soft moan from your lips.

With surety, he curled his fingers in a come-hither motion, barely grazing your clit with his thumb. The sensation was overwhelming and foreign, causing you to gasp and cum embarrassingly fast. Your pussy contracting around his fingers, milking them for all they were worth.

“Oh Fuuckk…” Rafe hissed. “You liked that, I can feel it.“ He sighed utterly mesmerised. “Well, if you like that...” Rafe groaned resting his forehead against the side of your face and planting soft kisses on your cheek. “You’re gonna love this.”

With his bottom lip caught between his teeth, Rafe's probing fingers started their relentless hunt for something deep within you. Suddenly, those searching digits found what they were looking for - a spot that caused you to arch over and clutch his hand as you cried out despite your best efforts.

“Oh- there it is” he chuckled softly, shunting his hand and hitting that spot over and over again with a speed and force that knocked the breath out of you, while his thumb expertly rubbed your clit and the fingers of his other hand mercilessly pulled and twisted your nipple.

“OhmyGOD!” you cried.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck my hand. Just like that.”

Rafe kept at it, even as your nails scraped along his wrist and arm for purchase. Even as you screamed and tried to scissor your legs closed to shut him out. None of it mattered as your eyes crossed and you felt your orgasm raw and violent crash over you.

Bucking violently into Rafe’s hand, you could feel your release seep through your jeans and onto the piano bench. Pooling and overflowing you could hear it trickle onto the hardwood floor like raindrops and still, Rafe kept going, kept finger fucking you.

Lost in a sea of agonising pleasure you could do nothing but slump against him and take it, your hips stuttering, your mouth sagging as you whimpered and gasped.

Rafe moaned against you, planting soft kisses on the column of your throat. He stilled his hand, his fingers buried deep inside while you desperately tried to catch your breath.

"Seems my fingers are just as talented as yours, hm?" he said with a breathless chuckle. His nose trailed along your neck, while his tongue darted out to capture the perspiration nestled there.

Gently, Rafe removed his digits while you gazed in shock, unable to voice a single word as he brought the wet fingers to his lips and ravenously lapped up your fluids with a contented hum.

“It’s too much.” you said hoarsely “I can’t-- I can't do this. No more, Rafe. No more,” you said weakly, trying to remove his hand from your breast and move away from his hold only for Rafe to seize your wrist painfully in his grasp.

"No more?" Rafe chuckled darkly, his gaze fixed on you with dilated pupils. "No more?" he repeated, inching closer as he shook his head. "Nah, baby. No. We're just getting started..."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading. Thanks for liking and reblogging. PART 2 / MASTERLIST

#rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x you #rafe fic #outer banks fanfiction #rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe #obx #obx rafe cameron #selfreblog #timezone reblog

2K notes · View notes

savannahsdeath · 9 months

Note

Can't stop thinking about sporty!Ellie and cheerleader! reader, and I love love love your writing style, would you mind writing smth about em? <33

first of all THANK YOU💞and of course 🙏

SOCCER!ELLIE WILLIAMS X CHEERLEADER!READER

part 1one

part 2two

mdni please<3

summary: ellie, as one of the best soccer players in the campus, is used to get everything she wants..until you

warnings: 18+!! please

writers note: i had this idea for a long time and i literally waited for someone to ask about it omg i just cant decide wether to make a part2 or not😓

"so it's not just gonna happen like that,

'cause I ain't no hollaback girl"

You and other cheerleaders had a rehearsal while one of your school soccer teams practised in the field behind you. This whole 'rehearsal' was just an excuse to meet and watch the footbal game, as you all already knew every move of your not-complicated plan.

You sat on one of the benches, listening to your friends talk, as you watched the players run after each other. She rolled up her shirt to 'wipe the sweat off of her forehead' but everyone knew it's just an attempt to show of her toned body. For a second she revealed hers simple, black, sports bra. Some girls, obviously the lesbian ones, started giggling and biting their lips, even though Williams didn't seem to care. You could proudly admit you're the only one who wasn't eating out of her hand - your friend had to nudge your arm with her elbow, whispering little; "Look at her!" to make you give Ellie some attention.

"That's disgusting." You mumbled, clearly meaning girls' reaction, not the girl herself.

"What? Why does that even matter?" Asked Lucy, nudging you once more. "Just look at her. Look at that body. Don't you want that for yourself?" She chuckled, and you frowned, but you couldn't help but stare at the attractive girl on the field. Her skin glistened in the summer sun, and her abs were defined in the most distracting way possible. Suddenly, the soccer practice wrapped up, and Ellie walked over to the group of girls. Lucy winked at you. "Enjoy the show."

"Hi, ladies." She playfully greeted your group.

"Heyyy, Ellie." Lucy said with a grin. The other girls in the group greeted her warmly as well, but you remained quiet.

She glanced over at you and smiled, noticing your silent and slightly annoyed expression. "Not feeling well?" She asked, her smile becoming a teasing smirk.

You couldn't stop yourself from rolling your eyes. "I'm just fine." You murmured, your gaze shifting to Ellie for a short second.

Her teasing smirk grew wider. "Oh, come on. You can look at me longer than that." She chuckled, raising her eyebrows at you. Ellie leaned in closer, and you could feel the heat on her body as she spoke. "Isn't it a little weird that you haven't been checking me out like all the other girls here?"

"They're the weird ones. Drooling at the sight of you kicking a ball." You pointed at each one, making fun of them, just like always. They all laughed as you turned back to Ellie, fixing your skirt.

"That's fair." Ellie smirked again, leaning closer, which caused your friends to make 'ooh-ing' and 'aah-ing' noises. Suddenly, she bent down and picked up your water bottle. "Mind if I take a sip?" She asked but before you could answer, she was already unscrewing it. You couldn't help but awkwardly look down as her lips touched the spot that yours usually occupied.

"No, actually, I do mind that." You exclaimed, trying to reach for the bottle. But Ellie stepped back, teasing you with it, as if it was some kind of game.

"Aw, come on. Sharing is caring, right?" She said, still smirking.

"You're ridiculous." You said, glaring at Ellie. She laughed, not at all bothered by the tension between the two of you.

Luccy shook her head and whispered; "Jesus, she's so into you."

"Into me? She's ruining our practices with those little antics!" You shouted in a whisper, trying to make it seem unsuspectingly.

"Yeah - to get your attention. Can't you see that?" She stopped for a second, trying to come up with any examples. "Do you remember when you missed one of our meetings? She came to us, immediately asking 'Where's your leader, girls?' even though two other girls weren't there too! But of course she noticed your absence first." She seemed to notice the look on your face - the 'shut up, you're overreacting' one, so she quickly continued; "And when we told her you had to go to the doctor she looked worried. Fucking worried! Can you beli-...?"

Your friend stopped speaking as she saw Ellie getting closer again. She gave you your water back and ruffled your hair, sitting in front of you.

You knew what's going to happen - as soon as other girls will stop paying attention to her, she'll start tease, compliment, sometimes taunt you for a while. Before she could make any comment on your 'too tight top' or 'too insipid water', you stood up and hugged Lucy, murmuring simple; "I'm tired, I'll go home earlier." You waved to the rest of the group and went to an empty, as always in the afternoon, dressing room.

Instead of changing back to 'everyday clothes', you sat down and started pointlessly scroll through the internet. You got so caught up in reading one of the 'See if your cat is healthy!' articles (you don't have a cat) that only someones' footsteps brought you down to earth. You went into one of the changing rooms, hoping to finally dress up, but you were still focused on your phone.

Eventually, someone started speaking.

"I don't know, it's weird. Cheerleaders weren't supposed to be so stubborn." You heard Ellie's voice, followed by her footsteps. It sounded like she was nervously pacing around the room. "I mean, they aren't, just the leader. The prettiest, yet the hardest to get." A pause. "What? No! She's definitely into girls. She was dating the captain of the rival's team.. What was her name again?" Another pause. "Right, Vi. What does she has, that I don't?" And another pause, much longer this time.

Vi was your ex girlfriend - you two broke up after she cheated on you. There was a huge drama going on, almost everyone in school turned out to be involved. It was long ago though, you already moved on.

You frowned, trying to hold back your amusement. Ellie's voice was almost... desperate.

She laughed, breaking your thoughts. "I know, I know! But jesus, what is wrong with her? I make it so obvious!... What? Of course, I'm not saying- Look, she's not easy, that's the best part. I don't remember anyone else reacting so negatively to my teasing comments. Her friend told me-... Hush, that's what I'm saying!"

You froze. Of course she was talking about you, you knew she does. Her teammates or other cheerleaders always tell you when she does. 'Ellie was asking, if you-' this, 'Ellie asked me to tell you-' that. She could have everyone she'd want to, except you. That's why she was so obsessed with you, you expected her to rant about it. What catched you off-guard was 'Her friend told me-'. Lucy knew everything about you - the fact you hate Ellie's attitude but it turns you on at the same time, too. The fact you don't check her out in public isn't because you don't find her attractive, quite the opposite - you don't want to get distracted, too. How much of those embarrasing behaviours Ellie may know about from your dear friend?

The call ended but you could still hear her pacing around.

'What am I doing? I'll just change up and go home, like nothing happened ' you thought. And that would be really the best option but when you looked around, you realised you left your backpack outside.

Ellie seemed to notice that too, muttering some curse words.

There was no point in hiding. You came out and tossed your phone to your bag. Her eyes awkwardly followed you, she was waiting for you to speak up.

"I may accidentally overhear something." You said, pretending to look for something in your backpack.

"I figured that out already." She said sarcastically.

"Well..." You turned around to face her. "What do you expect from me?"

She chuckled, her embarrassment fading away. "Any reaction would be good. I just need to know..." She took a few steps towards you and thought about it for a moment, before adding; "Or you can pretend you heard nothing."

Now it was your turn to laugh. "And let you get away with it? No, thanks. That was fucking weird, you should feel bad. Who were you even talking to? Your mom?"

She smirked, leaning on the table you were standing near to. "A teammate, actually. You know Riley? Or are you so busy pretending you're not staring at me the whole practices that you don't remember any other players?"

You decided to ignore her last question. "Oh yeah, yeah, Riley. She's the blonde haired one, right?" You asked, pretending to remember.

"No, she's not. Whatever." Ellie leaned in closer, putting her elbows on the table and looking you in the eyes. "Look, I won't pretend that I wasn't talking about you. I like you, okay? Simple as that."

"Here you are, all that just for shits and giggles." You said, still grinning, obviously taking it as a joke. It's Ellie fucking Williams, of course she's just messing around! "You're lucky I'm not completely cruel, or I'd punch you by now."

Ellie smirked at you, her eyebrows still raised. She seemed to enjoy teasing you, but there was a seriousness in her eyes that she tried to hide. You wondered if she was just flirting, or if these feelings truly meant something to her. "Why won't you just kiss me instead?"

You rolled your eyes.

Ellie was persistent, that was for sure. She was also gorgeous, which only made her all the more seductive. "Why not?" she asked with a grin.

"Because I don't go around kissing every girl that flirts with me." You laughed.

"Am I not special enough for you?" She pouted. She was still a flirty mess, but now you were starting to think she might mean this. She was actually asking you for a kiss, as if she expected you to say yes.

"I don't kiss just anybody." You said, trying to be as serious as possible. "You're going to have to earn it."

Ellie raised her eyebrows, clearly intrigued by your response. She looked at you with a sly smirk, and you could tell she really wanted that. "How do I earn it?" She asked, getting closer to you.

"Win the tomorrow's match." You patted her back and left, not waiting for her reaction.

Tomorrow's match - two best teams and leaders rivaling - Ellie and the well known Vi.

1K notes · View notes

justatypicalwizard · 6 months

Text

A scrap from your book

Bakugo x reader, aged up, college! au, quirks don't matter, no warnings, just heartwarming

Roommate Bakugo who is forced to share a room with you for about three months due to unexpected construction works in the college apartment he occupied. The whole Bakusquad was moved to random rooms. To make it worse they were all shared ones. You agreed to take in a male occupant.

Roommate Bakugo who tries to spend as much time outside of the cramped college room as possible. He feels like he's kinda invading your privacy as well as just finding the whole situation uneasy.

Roommate Bakugo who has to complete a bunch of assignments but the library is packed in the late afternoon hours, the air thick with gossip, stress, sweat and annoyance. Bakugo finally wandered off to the dorm room to find some peace for his work.

Roommate Bakugo who spotts you always turn off your lamp and tune down the brightness on your laptop when he tells you he's going to sleep.

"You don't have to do that." He grunts, already wrapped up in heavy covers.

"I don't mind, you do the same." Because he does.

Roommate Bakugo who walks on you watching a film he loves. At first he just circles the small room mindlessly, more interested in the unwrapping dialogue between his two favourite characters than the laundry he's picking up.

"You wanna watch?" You ask, pausing the movie.

"No. I was going to do my laundry."

"I can wait, I can buy some snacks in the meantime, I was looking for an excuse to do it anyway."

So the two of you ended up finishing the film together, sitting on your bed.

Roommate Bakugo who talks to you more, geting used to the situation faster than he thought he would. You both sit by your desks working on the boring college stuff. He spotted you were trying hard, not slacking around and keeping most of your deadlines. Even if he didn't want to admitt it, he was impressed. Not that he didn't do the same, it's just rare to find a person who actually cares.

Roommate Bakugo who didn't know how to phrase a sentence. He was working on a piece of paper for the last two hours after an intense day of workout and his brain refused to cooperate anymore.

"Can I ask you for a favour?" Your face appeared from behind your laptop screen.

"Depends on what is it."

"I finished a short essay and I wanted to ask if you could read it and tell me if it makes sense."

Might as well take a break to refresh his mind. Bakugo read through the text and came to the conclusion that you were a good writer. A very good writer in fact.

"How would you say that in other words?" He asked after you were happy with your work, your laptop tossed aside as you lay on your bed scrolling through your phone.

You skipped to him, read through the sentence and gave him a paraphrase, one that he wouldn't think of himself.

"Thanks."

Roommate Bakugo who was eying you book collection for some time. You had a bunch. When he asked the two of you started talking and in went on and on and on. Finally, you stood up on your bed, the sheets dipping in where you stretched out to reach the highest shelve. Picking out a book you handed it to him.

"My favourite."

So he started to read it.

Roommate Bakugo who got a text from you that you wouldn't be back in the dorms for the night. After a shower he laid down in his bed, shirtless, with your book in hand. It was definitely worth it and he was way past the half already. Suddednly the doors opened only to reveal you, eying him up and down.

"The fuck you doing here?" Suddenly Bakugo felt a tad bit embarassed about his bare chest and lose sweatpants.

"My friend cancelled, sorry, you have someone over?" A small sly grin appeared on yoru lips.

"Jeez no, I'm just half naked."

"I don't mind." You shrugged, throwing your bag on the bed.

And what was that supposed to mean?

Nevermind. Bakugo wanted to get back to the story when he spotted something horrific. His hand gripped a nice chunk of the page, torn out of the book. He must have done it when you startled him with the grand entrance. It was readable as he only torn the cream white but it still looked nasty.

"Shit, I'm sorry." He didn't even look at you, opting on eying the damage, embarassement creaping up his cheeks for destroying someone's else belonging. One of yoru favourite belongings.

You came over, looked at the book and started to laugh.

"What's so fucking funny?" From embarassed Bakugo quickly merged into defensive.

"You look as if you killed my grandma. It's just a book." You saw that it didn't make him feel better, in fact the frown in his brows deepened. "I like my books being used. Lets treat it as a memory of you reading it. Give me the torn piece, please." Your hand reached out and he put the scrap into your open palm.

You skribbled something down on it using a pen fished out of your drawer. When you gave it back to him, the paper read 'Don't stress so much, dummy.'

"You can keep it." A smile brightened your face as you turned around to do other things.

Roommate Bakugo who would never admitt to anyone that he kept that scrap in the back of his phonecase at all times.

Roommate Bakugo who would never admitt to anyone that it took you roughly two months to steal his rock-like heart away.

#bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo #katsuki bakugo #mha bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #mha

615 notes · View notes

thesoftboiledegg · 6 months

Text

"Unmortricken" was a lot. In fact, it might have been a little too much.

To start, I loved the glimpse of what exists outside the Central Finite Curve. The visuals were stunning and reminded me of M.C. Escher's drawings. The Jetson-like family was a nice touch--if anything can happen, who says they can't have different animation styles? All those colorful portals make me wonder what's lurking just out of sight.

It's also funny that the space outside the Curve is full of Rick's favorite thing: crystals. If he took a trip there, he'd come back with his pockets stuffed with gemstones.

Evil Morty's reappearance gave us a decent character study. Since he wasn't the antagonist, we saw him interact with the C-137s as a regular person. Morty's a little impressed, and Rick has a grudging respect for him. Others have called Evil Morty the Rickest Morty, and I agree: similar intelligence, similar technology and similar bloodthirst.

I was glad that he left in the end because that's what his character arc is about anyway. He doesn't want to be part of anyone else's story, not even another Morty's.

However, that's also part of the issue that I had with this episode. Seeing Evil Morty was great, but it was also a little...pointless? You could've had the same story without him. He's not working with Prime, and he has no ties to C-137 after "Rickmurai Jack," so it felt like the writers just said "Hey, you know what would be cool?"

I'm not against writers having fun and giving the audience what they want. "Spider-Man: No Way Home" (yeah, groan at me, Marvel haters) is fan service in blockbuster form, and it was one of the best theater experiences I've ever had.

Still, if Evil Morty came back, I think he should've had a separate episode. The episode juggled C-137 Rick, Morty, Evil Morty and Prime Rick pretty well, giving them satisfying interactions with each other, but no Evil Morty would've meant more relationship development for the C-137s.

Evil Morty's backstory also didn't reveal much about him. I mean--yeah, we all figured that he had an abusive Rick and got fed up. The fact that he had a "regular" Rick instead of a deranged lunatic does make a point about the banality of abuse. Monsters aren't always raving maniacs who torture people in their basements. Ordinary people can wear you down with a slow drip of toxicity and neglect.

I enjoyed this episode, and Evil Morty's return was exciting, but cramming the series' two biggest antagonists and storylines into twenty minutes was a little overwhelming. New plot developments kept showing up, too: Rick found Prime! Prime's various lairs! Omega device! I would've preferred a two-parter.

I'll admit that if you told me that we'd see Evil Morty and Rick Prime in the same shot, I never would have believed you, but here we are.

On that note, Prime's characterization was perfect. No attempt at a cutesy, sad backstory; he's a laughing monster until the end. And is it really the end? He has regeneration abilities, but C-137 acts like he's dead and even gives up the search. This leaves us with a few options:

C-137 killed him.

Prime fooled C-137 into thinking that he's dead when he isn't.

C-137's keeping him alive for later use.

Hopefully, this is more complicated than it looks because I'll be disappointed if this is the end of Prime. He's a brilliant reflection of C-137: the Rick he'd be without his tiny shred of humanity.

And Prime's a maniac, but he tells C-137 the truth. Rick broke into Prime's house. He pretended he belonged with this group of strangers. He latched on to Prime's grandson because he never had his own. His brutal, violent streak never went away no matter how long he tried to play house.

Prime says "Admit it! You would have been me!" In season three and parts of season four, Rick was close. His love for his family--love that he pretended he didn't have--and desire for their approval just barely pulled him back. But what kept that spark alive? How close was he to becoming a cold, unfeeling shell?

In the end, C-137's not satisfied after he destroys Prime--and weirdly, I'm not satisfied, either. Beating Prime to an unrecognizable pulp doesn't bring Rick's original family back. It doesn't erase the atrocities that Rick's committed. It doesn't make his grief go away. It doesn't change the fact that Rick teetered on the edge of turning into the monster that he despised.

What's more satisfying is that Rick didn't turn out like Prime. His Morty doesn't give two shits about Prime, but he loves him. He hugs him in relief (come on, Rick, hug him back already!), cries out "Rick? Rick!" and shakes his body when he thinks he's dead, and talks excitedly as they return home.

Rick's going to therapy, which Prime would have mocked. He went from having nobody to living with FIVE kids if you count Morty and Summer. Even he and his Jerry are pretty tight.

Rick knows this, but he still feels empty all the time. Vengeance doesn't work, drinking doesn't work...wouldn't it be easier if he just switched off his humanity and laughed at everything, even his own death?

But now that he knows how it feels to be loved, especially by his hypothetical grandson, I think he'll always find himself at the Smiths' doorstep.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #prime rick #weird rick #rick prime #evil morty #boy that's quite the collection of tags #unmortricken #season seven #review

427 notes · View notes

imagining-in-the-margins · 2 months

Text

🎀 CM KidFic Challenge 🧸

Hey everyone, I’m back with another monthly challenge! For the months of March AND April, I am formally challenging any willing writer to take a stab at writing fanfiction including children, babies, or pregnancy (biological, adoptive, animal, etc.) using their choice of Criminal Minds characters! Reader, Original Character, Character/Character ships, Gen/Platonic fics are allowed! Please check out the Rules below the Keep Reading.

(**This is NOT a request list for me—this is a prompt list of other writers! Feel free to request from someone else, and be sure to let them know about the challenge!)

Prompts

Child says their first word(s)

Child becomes an older sibling

Character stands up for their child

The couple enjoys trying for a baby

Characters are fantastic platonic co-parents

Child is starting to act a lot like their parent(s)

The couple announces their pregnancy to everyone

The couple fosters a teenager preparing for college

The couple takes their child to college/their own place

The couple thinks they’re having twins… but it’s triplets

Character runs into their ex who has a child that looks just like them

The couple realizes how different things are the second, third, etc. time

Character needs reassurance about the fact they don’t enjoy being pregnant

Character finds that being around Child helps them heal their own inner child

The couple babysits together, which leads to a conversation about their future

Character struggles with the fact that their teenage kid has their first partner

Character is very attentive to their pregnant partner... almost irritatingly so

Character witnesses a quiet moment with their partner and their baby during a night feeding

Character, chronically single, asks their best friend if they’d be open to having a child with them

Child realizes that not every kid has two moms/two dads and they have a lot of questions about it

The couple takes Child to daycare for the first time but they can’t make themselves leave the parking lot

Child is having a hard time at school, so Character picks them up from school for a day of quality time together

Pregnancy cravings lead to a very dramatic late-night grocery store trip that makes Character fall more in love

Anything else you can imagine!

Childfree/Pregnancy-Free prompts below + Create your own!

Childfree/Pregnancy-Free Prompts

Character is the fun uncle/aunt

The couple adopts a pet together

Character gets to meet their partner’s (judgmental) pet

Character reveals that they don't want to have children and their partner's reaction surprises them

A child the BAU saved comes back years later to thank them and show what they’ve done with their life

The couple decides to give up on becoming parents and they learn how to have a fulfilled life without a child

Rules

The fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character. AUs and crossovers are more than welcome.

Tag me in the fic, or send the link to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge - I’m collecting both! You can also tag it “#mentioningmargins” which is a tag I track.

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check.Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.

Have fun!

The Masterlist of fics will be posted around May 1. If you finish after that, no problem - just send me the fic once you’re done and I’ll add it after-the-fact!

Feel free to message me if you want help developing a plot, have any questions, or just want to gush about your fic. I’m happy to help, and I’m happy you’re here ❤️

Happy Writing!

251 notes · View notes

the-cat-and-the-birdie · 3 months

Text

You know what really gets me about ATSV

ATSV: How to do a face reveal right

[A SHORT essay on why I think Miguel and Hobie are Hot On Purpose.]

Jessica's face is completely uncovered. Ben's face is shown right away. Pavitr appears in his mask but immediately shows his face in his own intro. Margo is always unmasked too.

CMIIW but: Miguel and Hobie are the only new characters whose faces were hidden until WAY after their first lines.

You mean to tell me, two of the finest characters in the movie. The characters who look like THIS

Are shown first as this:

- for a reason!! The writers knew what they were doing 😭

They - knowing the two would receive the most fan attention - deliberately delayed their face reveals simply for the sake of the drama.

When we first meet Miguel - it's as Spider-man

He's playing the cool, cold, heroic leader (despite Gwen's teasing). We come close to seeing his face, but like him, we stop short.

They give us a taste of Miguel before we actually meet him, or see his face and full design.

The opening scenes of ATSV leaves us holding our breath.

The end of ITSV sets Miguel up to a big problem in ATSV, but he's abscent for the majority of the movie, working behind the scenes.

We spend the majority of the movie holding our breath, knowing that eventually Miles will have to meet him, we'll have to meet him, and it leaves the viewer even more excited - or anxious - for Miguel.

When we meet Hobie - it's as Spider-Punk

Just the same as Miguel, we're given a HUGE dose of Hobie before he even hits the screen.

Hobie is the talk of the town. Miles has an imagined problem with him - so we have a problem with him: We don't know who he is!

ATSV sets us up for Hobie. We know we'll meet him, but unlike Miguel - as so very in character for Hobie - we don't know where, or when, or how.

Even after his first appearance - he kicks it up a notch.

And although he could've remained masked for the entirety of his intro, instead - the animators choose to have fun with it.

They highlight the fact. Hobie outright taunts the viewer; He KNOWS you want to see his face. Sure, he'll demask himself - but he doesn't give you the satisfaction.

But Hobies face is an intentional mystery. He wants to keep you guessing, revealing in the anticipation.

He's already told you his name - but it's his character design that we're left dying for.

I know as soon as they got in the elevator I was like 👀 - he not gonna keep that mask on right. cause I know he fine

I find it so funny that the two characters that are thirsted after on the highest level are the only ones that reveal their faces in later scenes.

Like even when they walk into Miguels lair

Like bro what the fuck are you posing for? Dramatic effect 😐

It goes to show that writers genuinely know who will be fan-favorites.

The ATSV design and animation team made a ridiculous amount of content for Hobie - going so far as to design his house, and make detailed imagery of his world.

They knew it'd never be included in ATSV. But they didn't care.

They made it anyway cause they knew people would want more of him. They knew that either in BTSV - or a solo entry of his own - people would really like Hobie, and really want to know more about him.

The knew that people would go NUTS over Miguel's redesign - because it's such a stark difference and upgrade from his teaser seen in ITSV.

In the beginning of ATSV, the design changes aren't that apparent. But as ATSV goes on, and we see Miguel's behavior, we immediately understand why they chose to make Miguel SO MUCH LARGER than what they were planning in ITSV.

They knew that you'd hear Oscar Issac's voice and it'd be a wrap. The way he looks is just ICING on the cake. They don't need to show you Miguel right away, they're going to make you thirst the whole movie before you actually get to see him.

They knew you'd see Hobie kick through that force field and be shook over him.

Gwen and Pavitr yell out 'Hobie!' when he arrives - because that's what we're all screaming in our heads.

'Oh shit - he's HERE.'

His face reveal is just the final nail in the coffin of 'yeah, im down bad for this dude. it's a wrap.'

I just LOVE IT i LOVE IT it SO CLEVER

the writers being like 'nah make them thirsty hoes wait'. Im watching Mumbattan fall apart in front of my very eyes and I'm still like... 'So about that Hobie bloke.... what's his deal'

We are all so predictable. They're laughing at us. They made Miguel dummy thicc because they knew. They just knew.

#spiderman #atsv #spider man #marvel #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderpunk #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #spider-man 2099

380 notes · View notes

bigball-thefrog · 25 days

Text

In The Captains Cabin:Shanks X Reader

______________________________

Finally back from writers block and I come back with the longest thing I've written and it's smut! I hope you enjoy and I hope I don't get writers block again for awhile

Warnings and Tags:

Smut

Some fluff

Oral

Reader has female genitals but gender is not stated

Rough sex

Soft sex

It's reader's first time and they're nervous

Experienced Shanks

Both are slightly intoxicated but both are consenting

Usage of safeword

______________________________

Reader POV

After being on the crew of the Red Haired Pirates for almost six months, I never expected to be here in the captains quarters with his hand firmly gripping my hip while his tongue was deep down my throat.

There isn't much back story to this, we were all drunk again and while I was feeling bold and tipsy, Shanks invited me to sit down with him and I decided to sit on his lap. We joked about it but I ended up moving around too much and now here I am about to lose my virginity to my captain. His hand moved from my hip to my ass as he gave it a playful slap before pulling away from the kiss, "You ready for this sweetheart?" he askes as he moves his hand to hold my chin. "Can we maybe just establish a safe word before we start?" I ask sheepishly. He chuckles and pinches my cheek, "So cute. Of course sweetheart, whatever will make you most comfortable." He kissed my forehead before thinking, "How about.... Rum?" he suggests. I nod in agreement, "Rum... It's good, just as long as there's a safe word to use." "Alright, so Shall I begin sweetheart?" I nervously nod and Shanks smirks.

He leads me to his bed and pushes me on it. I lay down on my back with my legs hanging over the sides. Shanks gets closer and places himself between my legs as he starts to get undressed. He unbuttones his shirt, revealing his toned upper body. He caught me staring and chuckled, he took my hand and placed it on his chest, "Just feel that Sweetheart." I ran my hand over his chest and he let out a soft moan and smirked. I brought my other hand up and started feeling up his body. It just felt... So nice touch. The skin, the hair, a few scars here and there. It was almost hypnotic to touch and squish, so distracting that I didn't notice the sound of Shanks unbuckling his belt and dropping his pants. Shanks whistled to get my attention back and when I looked at him he gestured for me to look down. I did so and was met with the sight of a good eight inches in front of me. I froze up a bit and just looked back at Shanks, who was just laughing at my reaction, "You're cute you know that? This is my favorite part with people's first times, they never expect it to be so big and when they see it they get second thoughts. So I'll ask again sweetheart, do you want to continue darling?" he asked with a smirk. I nervously nodded and he bent down and gently grabbed my chin, his face becoming serious, "I need your verbal consent sweetheart." "Y-ye-" "With confidence dear, so I know you're absolutely sure about this." I took a deep breath before speaking again, "Yes, I am ready for this." He smirked again and took his hand from my chin down to my pants.

He teasingly played with the hem of my pants and underwear before ripping them off, leaving me exposed to his eyes. His eyes narrowed and his smirk grew from the sight of my already wet entrance, "Already so wet for me darling? You might be more excited about this than I am~" he said as he brought himself closer and placed the tip of his penis against my entrance, "Just remember, the safeword is rum. And if absolutely anything I do makes you feel uncomfortable then use it, alright darling?" "Yes Shanks." He nodded with a satisfied grin before placing his hand on my hip. I tensed up my body as I felt him move his hips closer and before I could properly mentally prepare myself he thrusted his entire length inside me causing me to gasp and causing him to moan, "Fuck sweetheart... You feel amazing~" I only managed to let out a shaky whimper in response, he chuckled and gently rubbed my hip before gripping it firmly. He gave me one last look of reassurance before he began thrusting inside of me. He started at a slow pace, letting me get adjusted to his size, it was kinda painful and not really feeling good at first, but after a few seconds I quickly started to get used to it and the arousal started to grow, but the pain was still there. After seeing me relax a little, Shanks started picking up the pace, little by little and after about two minutes of speeding up his thrusts he was now going deep and fast inside me, hitting my sweet spot each time but also making it more painful. I thought it was apart of the process and thought I would get used to the pain but it just wouldn't go away so I was really starting get uncomfortable. Shanks was just enjoying himself as he continued to thrust fastly into me while gripping my hip firmly. I was really getting uncomfortable now and the pain was getting borderline unbearable, causing me to tear up, Shanks saw this and thought I was just getting close to my orgasam, "You like that sweetheart? Feels good doesn't it?~ I just squirmed and whimpered, still feeling too overwhelmed to do anything. At this point the dirty talk and the painful thrusting was just getting so bad so I finally just snapped.

"RUM, RUM. PLEASE JUST STOP!!!"

Shanks instantly stopped and pulled out, looking shocked and concerned as he helped me sit up, "What's wrong sweetheart? What did I do wrong?" He softly asked as he began caressing my head to calm me down, "E-everything! It all hurt and just felt uncomfortable, I felt like I was going to be split in half!" I cried out. Shanks brought me closer to let me cry on his shoulder while he pondered what I said. A minute later he put his hand under my chin and made me look up at him, "Alright, I think I just got too excited when you said it's your first time. Being someone's first time is always exciting and I kinda got too caught up in the excitement of taking your virginity that I forgot that this was also supposed to be an amazing time for you too. I'm sorry sweetheart." I nodded in understanding and he gave my chin a little squeeze, "If you give me a second chance I'll be better this time." He said now with a soft smile rather than his previous lustful look. I was nervous to try that again but he seemed genuinely sorry for being too rough. "Okay.... I'll try it again." Shanks smiled and kissed my forehead before getting down on his knees, "I'll get you in the proper mood first this time." I looked down at him curiously as he brought his face closer between my legs. Gave my thighs a few kisses before he planted his mouth on the folds of my pussy, I shuddered a little and after a small moan from him he stuck his tongue out and began eating me out. I gasped and tried to close my legs but Shanks used his hand to pry my legs back open. He lapped up my wetness and moaned in delight, he moved his hand from my thigh and to my pussy and stuck two fingers in. I moaned this time which caused him to smirk as he kept lapping up my juices. He rolled and played with my cunt gently, causing it to swell and turn red, making me start to really feel aroused.

I began moaning more frequently now really starting to enjoy it, Shanks sped up a little bit but looked up at me every so often to make sure I was still enjoying myself. I could start to feel a weird feeling start to grow down in my stomach and it was growing quickly. I started moaning louder, "Shanks, somethings happening, my stomach feels weird.." "Shhh, don't worry darling, just let it happen." Shanks reassured me and continued eating me out. My moans grew more desperate and the feeling in my stomach was growing fast. Then I threw my head back with a loud moan as a feeling of ecstasy came over me. I squeezed my legs around Shanks' head as I rode it out and when it finished I unclenched my legs from his head and just layed back panting. Shanks moved his head from between my legs, also panting, his mouth glistening from my slick. He removed his fingers and licked them clean, he moaned and looked back at me, "You taste amazing darling~ I think it's about time we move on with the foreplay and try again at what we first did hmm?" I hesitantly agreed and he got up from his knees. This time he put my legs up over his shoulders, "You sure you want to do this?" "Yes, I think I'm too flustered to stop." He smirked and leaned down for one last kiss before trying to insert his cock back inside me. This time he gently pushed himself against me, taking it slow this time, and after the foreplay it slid in much easier and hurt less. "Much better now that you're all wet my dear." He whispered before beginning to thrust again, but due to his size it became uncomfortable again and said the safeword again. Shanks sighed before pulling out and scratching his head, "We're not going to get anywhere if you're still uncomfortable. Are you really sure you want to do this?" "Yes I am, I'm just scared..." Shanks sighed and looked around his cabin trying to find something that would help, his face lit up as he moved to his drawers to get something. After digging round for a minute he came back with something in his hands and stood back in front of me. He then placed pink teddy bear on my chest and smiled, "A little friend for you to squeeze your stress away while we do it." I take the teddy bear in my hands and put it close to my chest, it does help me relax and I let out a sigh of relief I didn't know I was holding in. Shanks rubs my hair reassuringly and speaks, "There we go, do you think we can try again now?" I nod and he got back into position again.

With my legs back over his shoulder he trusted back inside of me, I clutched the teddy bear tightly and it actually helped me relax a little. Shanks waited for me to tell him to carry on and I nodded. He thrusted at a slow place and didn't go any faster, the uncomfortable feeling from his length started coming back but this time I hugged the teddy bear and it helped me calm down. Soon the uncomfy feeling went away and I got used to his size, I now started enjoying it and moaned. Shanks smirked, "How are you feeling darling?" "B-Better. You can go a little faster." Shanks sped up his pace and placed his hand on my stomach. He kept at this pace, not too slow and not too fast, just perfect. He bent over and started kissing me from my tummy to my neck, being as gentle possible. His hand moved from my stomach to my thighs, gently squeezing and caressing them as he continued at the same pace. That feeling of ecstasy started building up again making me start whimpering. "You close baby?" Shanks asked. "Yes, very close." I mumbled out. "Me too baby, just try and hold it a little bit longer, I wanna cum with you." I nodded and tried to hold back the growing feeling but it was growing quickly and was very overwhelming. Shanks started moving faster to get us both to cum faster, which it just made it more overwhelming to hold back. Shanks' hand went to my hip and he gripped it tightly, "Come on baby, come for me." He groaned out and with that, I buried my face in the teddy bear and practically screamed out in ecstasy as Shanks and I both came at the same time, his seed coating my walls white and filling me up. Once we both rode out our high, Shanks pulled out and collapsed next to me. After a minute to recover he properly got in the bed and pulled me up next to him.

"You were amazing sweetheart~ How was your first time sweetheart?" "Good.." "Only good? Guess I'll have to try harder next time then darling~" I blushed at his implications that this wouldn't be the only time, I hugged the teddy bear tight and burried my face in it again. "So cute~" Shanks said as he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close to his chest. "Get some rest sweetheart, and tomorrow I'll make sure your body recovers from tonight

#one piece #one piece anime #oneshot #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece smut #shanks #one piece shanks #shanks one piece #op shanks #shanks x reader #shanks x you #shanks x y/n #shanks smut

174 notes · View notes