#for the anon that requested angel/composer theme

[rainbow-nijisaki]

(2022)

More from the old account.

[jam3sacaster]

I know this trope/theme always comes up in fanfics so I'm sorry about that 🙃

But Rupert Campbell-Black x reader on their period?

Like watching Rivals on my period is the weirdest mix of emotions lol 😆

Love it, what a great idea! 🥰🫶🏽 Honestly same, gave me emotions I have never experienced before in my LIFE. Please request anything else you wanna see! 💋

“Let me take care of you, darling.”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

Suggested by this sweet anon 🫶🏽 / Rupert cares for you on your period.

18+ FANFIC / Just Rupert being a big ol’ softie! (He can be… I promise) 🥹 Not very long but super lovely to see him showing he has a heart x

“Darling…” You hear your lover whisper, shaking you by the shoulder softly. Gradually raising an eye open, you look towards the window and wince at the moon’s wintery glow peeking through the gap in the curtains. “Darling…” He whispered again, increasing the motion of his shaking. “Whatttt?” You groan, voice thick with interrupted sleep. “You might want to wake up. I think you’ve made a bit of a mess.” He runs his hand softly across your bare arm now, before pulling the crisp, white duvet away from your bodies.

You were already incredibly nervous about staying over at your new boyfriend’s house whilst on your period, but Rupert being Rupert, he insisted. As he pulled back the duvet, he uncovered your blood-soaked pyjama shorts, and the crimson puddle underneath you that slowly seeped into the white bedsheets. “Oh, fuck!” You defeatedly whimpered, eyes springing open and hopping out of bed, pulling at your shorts. “Hey, hey, angel, don’t worry. It’s only an eye-wateringly expensive 100% Egyptian cotton sheet.” He joked, clambering out of bed himself now and throwing the duvet to the floor. You weren’t particularly in the mood to laugh— you just about chuckled, but they quickly turned into embarrassed tears. Walking round to meet you at your side of the bed, he pulled you into him and placed a gentle kiss at the top of your head. “Don’t worry. Go and get yourself cleaned up. I’ll sort this.” He muttered, ushering you into the bathroom.

Wiping your tears away and dragging yourself into the shower, you spent the next thirty minutes composing yourself, and convincing yourself that this surely can’t be embarrassing enough for him to break up with you. Although Rupert is a notoriously irrational person. Your overthinking mind pushed itself into overdrive, and you sobbed silently in the shower — overcome with heightened emotions. Wrapping yourself in the darkest towel you could find, you tip-toe back into the bedroom and your eyes widened at the scene that lay in front of you. The freshened bedding was now black, and your bedside table was adorned in the most tantalising goodies Rupert could find. A steaming mug of hot chocolate, coated in whipped cream and topped with a mountain of pink marshmallows, the largest bar of Cadbury’s you could dream of — one from his own secret stash that he would previously never dream of sharing — and a freshly-brewed hot water bottle tucked between the duvet. “Rupert…” You giggle, pulling on your fresh pyjamas as fast as you could.

Rupert attempted to suppress his smug smile as he stood at the foot of the bed, pulling you gently towards him and wrapping his athletic arms around you. His soothing hug was all-encompassing, and enveloped you in a warm constriction. Your allowed yourself an exhale, relieved that he was capable of mustering such a sweet response. “Drink your cocoa, before it goes cold.” He adds, pulling away and tucking himself into the fresh sheets. You promptly followed, positioning the hot water bottle onto your stomach and taking a length swig from your boiling mug. “You didn’t have to do all of this.” You sigh contently, sinking yourself deep under the duvet. “No more,” He tuts and shakes his head, “Just relax and get some rest, angel. In the morning, I’ll make you breakfast in bed and take you shopping.” He sighs sleepily, pulling your frame into his and yawning.

[jokeringcutio]

Reader x Stepdad William Afton (Drabble)

AN: You got me there, ANON. All right, here's a very QUICK drabble for you, because I COULDN'T RESIST. MATURE THEMES/NO EXPLICIT SMUT. Just a happy family dinner (well....)

Also, I am overwhelmed with prompt requests and I love them, so do keep 'em coming. But if you want to help me out for reaching my goal to save up to commission a celebratory piece of artwork for this tumblr (as we've almost reached 1000 mutuals following this account :3 ) please feel free to donate me a little something on Ko-fi ♡ ︎.

based on this in my inbox: [ See Reaction to the post here x ]

The clink of silverware against porcelain punctuated the silence, a staccato rhythm that seemed to echo in the cavern of your chest. Across from you, William’s hands were steady as he cut into his steak, but there was something about the tightness in his jaw, the way his blue eyes didn't quite meet yours, that whispered secrets.

"Sweetheart," your mother's voice sliced through the tension like the knife in William's hand through meat, "it's time we talked about a paternity test."

Your heart stuttered in your chest, a wild, frantic thing eager to escape. You swallowed hard, the mashed potatoes on your tongue now tasting like ash.

"Whoever the father is... he deserves to know," she continued, oblivious to the undercurrents swirling beneath her words.

"Of course," you agreed, the word brittle on your lips. Your gaze flickered unintentionally to William, then quickly away, fearing what might be revealed in a single glance.

He cleared his throat, a sound that rumbled deep and low, a prelude to the storm you knew brewed within him.

"It's only fair," he said, but his voice was a masterclass in control, every syllable measured, every intonation practiced.

"You can ring up the boys... see if they're willing." She was all practicality, all motherly concern, not an inkling of suspicion clouding her features. If only she knew…

"Right," you breathed out, the lie sour and heavy in your mouth.

In your bedroom, Evan's chest rose and fell with the innocent trust of sleep. Unaware. Untouched by the deceit that hung thick in the air. The door ajar, otherwise he wouldn’t sleep if he didn’t hear that you were near. As if somehow, your tiny son was aware that he had been born in a house full of dark secrets and possible danger.

Your fingers curled around your glass, the cool surface grounding you. Water, while your parents were drinking wine. Wasn’t your mom still trying for a baby? Had she finally given up now that she saw how it was to be between diapers and the soreness of giving milk?

William's gaze flitted toward the open door where your son lay oblivious to the grown-up games played at his expense.

"Will do it tomorrow," you promised, your voice a whisper of determination laced with dread.

"Good girl," your mother smiled, contentment lighting up her face. But in William's eyes, the reflection of a different kind of pride—a dark, devouring satisfaction—flickered and then died.

You pushed your plate away, appetite lost. While inside your thoughts careened like a runaway train, you tried to remain your compose. Look and act normal. But what would happen when the truth came out? What would happen when the masks fell away?

What would William do?

Because in all honesty, it wasn’t your mom and her feelings you were worried about the most any longer. She had proven time after time again to be there for you, no matter what lies had been told about you. Her two-goody-shoes daughter, suddenly a wild partying animal who had gone and get laid whilst drunk – even if she bought it she faithfully helped take care of you and your newborn son. She was so – so darn sweet! Like an angel sent from the blessed sky. If she’d forgiven you this, then you wouldn’t doubt she would forgive you the truth.

But…

Could you bear her disappointment? Right now? Could you see her so crestfallen and betrayed? Did you want to break that dam and wait whilst pain raked through you both – a pain that only time could mend?

Beside you, William scraped his throat, his thick fingers scraping past your thigh underneath the table. The horny beast. Even now he couldn’t stop touching you.

Shouldn’t he be working on one of his new robot animals? Like that yellow bunny suit he was making to resemble your favorite plushie? With the only difference that it was ten times bigger and build for him to wear?

You tried not to glance at your stepfather, not even when his fingers reassuringly squeezed your already bruised thigh. You gritted your teeth at the soreness – thanks to his latest bout of fucking, of course. The man took his chances whenever he could.

No, the real problem here was your stepfather. William was a tall, strong and dangerous man. His mind worked in ways that only left you guessing. And you had no doubt that he had hurt others in the past before to get exactly what he wanted.

If you wanted to play this game, you had to play it right.

Silently, you vowed to protect Evan from the shadows that lurked behind William's aviator glasses, from the manipulations that twisted beneath his agreeable facade. You would stand between your son and the man who wore danger like a second skin.

"Let's finish up here," your mother suggested, unaware of the battle lines being drawn right before her eyes.

"Indeed," William agreed, and his smile was a predator's grin, hidden in plain sight.

The baby slept on, his dreams untainted by the turmoil that swirled just beyond his reach.