#I LOVE YOU TICK!! PLEASE EXPLODE

[ghostlysage]

TICK IS MY FAVORITE RAT

welcome to BACK 2 BACK posting anyway. i drew one of my close friend’s ocs, Tick the Rat!! maddy created him, and he is such a lovely character <3 he lives on the fourth floor mwahaha…

[mad-hunts]

lbr, johann would be fascinated with barton’s mask and compliment him on how well preserved it is.

❝ holy shit. i almost gave up hope with this stupid card, but it seems like someone is just my type, ❞ barton let out a loud incredulous laugh upon seeing that ALL of the boxes for this card were ticked. he was almost tempted to ask if johann was lying about some of them, but what would he really have to gain from that besides... his favor, i guess you could say? and the other didn't really seem like the type to try to manipulate him. at least, in this way. barton honestly was kind of speechless — he hadn't really planned for someone to be perfectly compatible with him, so what the hell was he supposed to do now?

marriage. that was the only solution.

[missaengg]

Who Are You?

Pairing: Rafayel x f!reader Tags: nsfw, mdni, smut, some fluff and humor if you squint, kitchen sex, nipple play, p in v sex, creampie, pouty Rafayel Word Count: 2526 “Who are you?” Oh god, not this game again. Rafayel was pouting because of some unknown transgression you had committed against him, and he demanded restitution for your offense. A sinfully, delightful repayment. One you were only happy to oblige. ao3 link here.

“Who are you?”

Oh god, not this game again. You glanced at Rafayel, clocking his over exaggerated pout. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was staring you down like you were an absolute god damn stranger in his kitchen. You could feel your blood pressure rising. As much as you loved this man in front of you, it was no secret he could also very much be a child. A fact Thomas would only be too happy to confirm.

“How did you get into my house?”

A frustrating, annoying child.

“Rafayel, will you please—“ 

“I don’t listen to people I don’t know.”

You groaned. “Will you please stop acting like a five year old and—“

“Lalala, I can’t hear you.” Rafayel plugged his ears with his fingers and sang obnoxiously at the top of his lungs.

You let out a slow, agitated sigh. The last time he played this game, it had taken an hour of coaxing and a bribery of kisses to get him to stop, all because you had forgotten to send him a ‘good morning’ text that day.

“Oh my god, what have I done now?”

Rafayel stopped. He stared at you with those gorgeous blue and pink eyes of his as if you were an absolute dunce for not knowing the transgression you committed against him. “You really don’t know?”

“No!”

Rafayel’s eyes deeply bore into yours, and after a long pause, he asked, “Who are you again?”

Ugh. This… This bitch! A deep, aggravated growl exploded from your throat. Sometimes… sometimes you really wanted to slap him silly. He was driving you absolutely fucking insane! Why couldn’t he just tell you what was upsetting him?

“Rafayel, I swear to god I’m going to kill you if you don’t tell me what I’ve done to upset you.”

“How the fuck do you not know?” Rafayel petulantly asked. “It’s so obvious.”

“Clearly it’s not because I don’t know!” You fought off the urge to shout a string of expletives. If you could read his mind, you would in a heartbeat, but unfortunately, because you were only human, you needed him to tell you in words why he was so upset.

Rafayel crossed his arms again, his pout deepening on his face to the point you wondered just how much farther his bottom lip could jut out. He scowled at you from across the kitchen island. A stalemate, one where the first to break would lose.

You played his game back, crossing your arms, raising an eyebrow. Your steely eyes drilled into his, daring him to continue.

The clock on the wall ticked away.

Tick… 

Tick… 

Tick…

You raised an eyebrow at the man standing in front of you as if to ask, ‘Well, you going to tell me or not?’

Tick…

Rafayel’s eye twitched.

Tick…

He scrunched his nose into that childish expression you adored — most of the time.

Tick.

“You didn’t come see me last night!”

There it was. Victory. You suppressed the urge to smirk in celebration.

“I see,” you drawled.

Rafayel’s pout grew deeper, his bottom lip indeed jutting out even further than you thought possible.  A furious blush spread across his cheeks and up his ears, a consequence of breaking his composure. “I demand restitution for your offense.”

You slunk towards him, keeping your brows furrowed in mock concern. “What did you have in mind?”

Rafayel opened his mouth and closed it, his pouty lips puckering as he deliberated on what would be the most appropriate form of repayment.  Approaching him, you placed your palms on his chest, slowly sliding them up until they were locked around his neck.

“What can I do to make it better?” you purred into his ear, now a dark beet red from how flush your body was with his. “Hm?”

Rafayel faltered, especially as you nibbled on his earlobe. You could feel him tense each time your teeth lightly pulled on the soft flesh of his ear, his resolve chipping with each caress of your tongue.

“Fuck, cutie.” Rafayel’s ragged breaths tickled your neck. His hands slipped under the hem of your shirt, his fingernails digging into the skin underneath.

“Is this restitution enough for you?” You tongued Rafayel’s neck where you could feel his heart beating rapidly, grazing your teeth right above his artery. 

“No,” he forcefully groaned, a shudder running through him when you suddenly nipped him. Rafayel ground his hip against you, his arousal demanding stimulation.

“No? How about if I do this?” You trailed your hands down his back to his ass grabbing both cheeks and jerking his hips into you.

“No…”

You slowly undulated your pelvis against his painfully hard erection eliciting choked groans from the stupefied man. Grinning wickedly, you sensually pressed your lips to his, biting his bottom lip and then caressing it with your tongue, all while your hips moved against his arousal. Rafayel shivered, his breath catching in his throat, delicious little breathy moans spilling from his lips.

“Is this enough for you?”

A guttural choked groan escaped Rafayel when you slipped your hand into his pants, stroking his twitching member. A dark heat smoldered in his hazy eyes. He looked alluringly erotic.

“Stop— stop teasin’ me,” Rafayel husked, burying his head in the crook of your neck. His hands roamed up and down your back, fingernails burrowing in your flesh with every squeeze you gave his shaft. “Hah…”

The hot puffs of air from his breaths wisping on your neck sent tingles tickling down your spine. Your own arousal began to pool, a needy throbbing growing between your legs. Closing your eyes, you subconsciously rubbed your pelvis against his trying to find some relief from the swelling tension.

“I’m not teasing,” you fired back, “I’m making up for my… my transgression.”

Rafayel whined when you removed your hand from inside his pants, but quickly realized you stopped to unbutton them instead. ”Want more… more than this.” 

He wasted no time kicking off both his pants and his underwear discarding them haphazardly off to the side. Your eyes darkened at the sight of him standing at attention, swollen to the point of bursting. You licked your lips. His tip glistened with his obvious desire.

Rafayel roughly spun you around against the island, bunching your skirt up around your waist and yanking down your damp underwear.

“Rafayel,” you squeaked in surprise. “We cook here.”

Rafayel ran his length through your folds, coating himself with your slick. “Don’t care. S’my repayment,” he mumbled, lining himself up with your entrance. In one swift go, he plunged in, sinking in until he was fully buried.

You let out a sharp gasp, a flash of white overtaking your vision. You were practically dripping, but it didn’t matter how ready you were for him, he somehow always managed to stretch you out to the point you felt as if you’d split in two.

Rafayel gripped the sides of your hips, hissing at how readily you sucked him in. “Fuck, cutie, you feel so… so good,” he choked, his greedy hands kneading your breasts, fingers pinching with no regard as to whether he caused you any pain.

Each hard pinch sent a spark shooting through you, the pain only adding to the pleasure blooming within your lower abdomen. You snapped your head back, gasping at a particularly rough pinch.

Rafayel lowered his mouth to your neck, sucking hard, no doubt leaving a dark bruise. His mark.

“Raf, not where people can see,” you weakly objected.

He thrust into you slowly, taking his time to pull out and sink in his entire length. “But then” –he swirled his tongue against the darkening bruise– “how’re people” –he moved up higher on your neck– “going to know” –he sucked down hard again– “y’were a naughty girl?”

He bit down and pinched your nipple simultaneously, and you keened, the combination of pain and pleasure Rafayel provided you too much. You trembled in his hands, so hard you had to brace yourself against the counter if only to prevent your shaking legs from crumpling beneath you.

“How else am I going to hear you” –he snapped his hips– “make that lewd sound?”

You moaned. Rafayel entered you so deeply, you swore you could feel the tip of his cock in your throat.

“Besides, s’my repayment, right? Can do… can do whatever I want.” Rafayel rolled against you in a slow, steady pace, and his bulbous tip dragged sinfully along your walls, teasing that sensitive patch of gummy flesh that left you writhing in his hands.

“Raf, harder,” you whined, pushing your hips back, desperate to hear the slap of your skin hitting his. 

“Fuck,” Rafayel rasped under his breath.

He pulled out, and before you could even begin to process how empty you felt without his presence inside you, he whirled you around and grabbed you by the waist, hoisting you onto the kitchen island. He moved so quickly you didn’t have time to yelp or note how cold the granite felt on your ass.

Rafayel’s lips came crashing down on yours. His tongue flicked your bottom lip. Your head spun trying to keep up. You parted your mouth, allowing him to dart in and twine your tongues while your heavy breaths mingled together. You curled your fingers into his hair, raking your fingernails against his scalp.

“Y’drive me… crazy,” he breathed.

“Should… be saying… the same thing… about… you,” you quipped in between kisses.

You tugged on the hem of his shirt. You wanted to feel him, all of him, against you. Breaking away, Rafayel ripped the damn thing off of him and tossed it somewhere you couldn’t see because he immediately attacked your own right after, pulling your shirt over head and capturing your nipple between his teeth.

You arched your back, tugging his hair a little harder than you intended. You heard him mutter something you couldn’t quite catch under his breath, too absorbed in the delectable way his mouth ravaged your inflamed peaks. 

“Raf, would you just… just fuck me already,” you demanded, the unbearable ache between your legs now too agonizing to ignore. 

Your plea seemed to light a fire within Rafayel, and he gripped you firmly by your thighs, hauling you towards him until your ass hung precariously off the edge of the counter. Holding you in place, he dove in, and without waiting, he bucked his hips. You gasped. Your arms instinctively rose to his shoulders in a futile attempt to brace yourself from his assault.

Your cunt sang, avariciously clenching around his shaft with no intention of letting go. Unlike the slow, methodical thrusts from before, Rafayel pounded into you without abandon in a dizzying speed. 

He was bullying your cervix, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more. 

You hooked your legs around him driving him in as deep as he could go. “Deeper, Raf,” you pleaded, catching his eyes. “Need you… need you deeper.”

Rafayel gazed into your eyes, and then abruptly rammed your hips.

“Fuck!” you screamed, reeling from the sudden sting of pressure radiating through your lower stomach.

“That deep enough… for you?” he growled.

Stars dotted your vision, and all you could do was mewl as you clutched his shoulders with all the strength you had left in your fingers. You heard Rafayel snicker, but his moment of triumph was short-lived when your legs locked around him even tighter.

Shit, cutie,” he rasped.

Your clit brushed the jut of his pelvis every time Rafayel even shifted. Your head flopped back, your eyes closed. “Feels… fuck… feels so… good,” you whimpered.

Your bodies rocked together. The coil within you grew taut, a bundle of energy ready to burst and fling free with the slightest provocation.

“Raf…” you whispered hoarsely.

“Shit, cutie, I’m–” Rafayel took in a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m–”

His body tensed, and then he spilled into you, jerking with every spurt of his hot cum. You enveloped his head in your arms, stroking the back of his head as he helplessly clung to you.

“I love you… so… so much… so… fuck, cutie… don’t even… know,” Rafayel babbled, his voice a strangled, hopeless mess.

His sweet, earnest cries set your heart aflame, the tipping point for your own release, and the coil within you snapped. You felt yourself clamp down around his pulsating length, and your body roiled with ecstasy, shattering into a million pieces.

“God, Raf…”

Your body was on fire. Your blood roared in your ears, and you captured his lips with your own, falling deeper into your shared intoxication. The two of you shared kiss after dizzying kiss, riding out the blissed-out haze of your releases together.

You planted one last kiss on his swollen lips before pulling back. “So, was that enough of a repayment for you?”

Rafayel nodded blankly, and you tittered at the blank glaze in his eyes. 

“Good.” You brushed your lips on the tip of his nose. “Next time, can you please just tell me why you’re upset instead of being difficult about it?”

You watched as clarity returned to Rafayel and he wrinkled his nose.

“Baby, I’ve waited 800 years for you. The least you can do is let me pout about petty things.”

You rolled your eyes. “We’re still holding that over my head, are we?”

“Yep,” Rafayel drawled, smirking at you. “For as looooooong as I waited for you.” He exaggerated the ‘o’ in the word ‘long’ as if to make his point.

You sighed and shook your head, but a smile danced on your lips. “Fine,” you conceded. “If it means I get a good dicking like this in the process, I guess it can’t be helped.”

You cackled with glee as Rafayel sputtered, another blush coloring his cheeks. You held his burning cheeks in your hands and tenderly pressed your lips to his.

“I love you,” you murmured, peering into his eyes. “Even when you’re being a child.”

This time, it was Rafayel who rolled his eyes, but he pounced, bombarding your face with wet kisses.

“Rafayel, stop,” you squealed and made a fruitless effort to push him away.

“No,” he protested.  “I waited 800 years for you. Least you can do is let me love you as much as I want.”

You melted, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning into him with your full body, a wicked thought occurring to you. “You know,” you whispered suggestively into his ear. “We still haven’t christened the grand piano sitting in your living room.”

You snickered when Rafayel choked, but yelped when he swept you into a princess carry. 

“Should probably fix that, shouldn’t we?” He devilishly grinned and strode out of the kitchen with you kicking delightfully in his arms.

“Raf, put me down,” you cried as you swatted at his shoulder.

“No, we’re going to go christen the piano.”

You rolled your eyes again, but you hummed, snuggling into his hold. As much as Rafayel drove you insane, you couldn’t stay mad at him, not when he warmed your heart just as much. 

Maybe the childish nature of your boyfriend wasn’t so bad after all.

[musings-ofthe-unamused]

CoD Headcanons: Back From a Mission Gone Wrong

A/N: Hello friends! So sorry for not posting in a while. Will try to post some hcs and fics more often!

Please check out my 200 follower giveaway if you want a chance to win a customized fic!!

Ghost:

He's so pissed

At first, he doesn't say a thing 

But finally he explodes

Yelling, getting up close

He won't back down until he's got it all out

And once he does, he just walks away to cool down

"You're fucking insane! You're a trained soldier, not some war hero in a movie!" 

"LT, it was just-"

His voice raised even higher until he was shouting. "No excuses! It was fucking reckless and you know it!"

"What, and you don't get to-"

"Shut the fuck up! This isn't a fucking game! I'm so sick of you trying to pull these stunts. You wanna be punished for insubordination? This is the third fucking time you haven't listened to me! And I'm so fucking sick of it!"

You felt your face growing hot. Everyone stared at the two of you as Ghost continued to yell at you. It felt so unfair. You were just doing what you thought was right. But now he was acting like you have never done a single thing right. With a thick swallow, you lowered your head. You couldn't say a thing. He eventually stopped. And once he did, he walked away, leaving you to face the stares of everyone else.

Soap:

Absolutely in shambles

He was so scared that you were gonna die 

He's dealt with this before, but not in a way like this

Soap has never been so terrified

So as soon as he sees you, he clings onto you

Soap's arms were wrapped securely around you. Normally, you wouldn't mind the affection. But now that your arm was in a sling and you were trying to eat lunch, this was more of a nuisance. You groaned, trying to shake off your clingy boyfriend. He didn't budge. It's been only one day since you came back, but he's acting like you'd disappear in a puff of smoke.

"Soap, I need to eat."

He shook his head. "Five more minutes."

"Are you not embarrassed? We're literally in the cafeteria and everyone is staring." You tried pushing him off once again. No luck. 

"I don't care. I almost lost you, so I'm never letting you go again."

Gaz:

He tries to make it seem like he was calm

He knows your strengths and how you manage to pull through

But Gaz can't help but let out a sigh of relief when he sees you in the infirmary

Gaz would sit down next to you and flash you a smile

Crack a joke about how you're immortal

"Well, well, well. You made it back. How unlucky." Gaz sat next to you on the cot. 

You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Wow. I love your concern for me."

"I can't be concerned." He reached out, grabbing your hand. "I know you'll always come back to me."

"Of course I will."

Price:

A mix of anger and concern

The type to be super silent 

That's when you know you've fucked up

Lecture in his office

Will hug you after

The office was silent except for the ticking of his clock. You watched as Price sat back in his seat, smoking a cigar. Your uninjured hand tapped nervously against your thigh. He had just spent the past twenty minutes lecturing you on being more careful and vigilant on missions. But now was the scary part. The silence.

"Captain, I'm really sorry." You finally managed to speak. "I thought I was in the clear. They just came out of nowhere, and I-"

Your words were interrupted as he suddenly got up from his desk. He stalked over to you and leaned down. He hugged you tightly. Cigar smoke curled around the both of you like a second embrace. Your body relaxed.

"Captain…"

"Don't ever do that again."

"Yes, sir."

Alejandro:

He's there when you arrive on base

Immediately looks you over to make sure you're okay

Will mutter under his breath at how reckless you are

But praises you for getting out of there alive

Alejandro was staring at you with his arms crossed as you limped off the aircraft. You could already see the gears turning in his mind, deciding if he should scold you or immediately send you to the infirmary. When you finally stood in front of him, he lifted your chin with his fingers.

"Look at you. How reckless." He mumbled under his breath. His eyes traveled over your face.

"Sorry."

"I know. But you did good, getting out of there alive. I'm proud of you."

König:

The type of anxious guy that has to be doing something

He knows your hurt when you come back, but he isn't there to see you

Instead, he's in the gym, working out

You actually have to find him 

When he sees you, he just kinda breaks down a bit

König wasn't waiting for you when you got back from the mission. You wanted nothing more than to collapse in his arms and complain about how everything went wrong. And yet, he was nowhere to be found. You searched practically the whole base before finding him in the gym, lifting weights.

"I'm back." You said, walking closer to him.

His back was facing you. "I know."

"Can you look at me?"

He turned around. You could just see his shoulders deflate as he looked at your injured body. You sighed and walked up to him. He buried you in a tight hug, his cheek resting on your head. He squeezed you as tightly as possibly. You felt almost bad for messing up on the mission and worrying him.

Keegan:

Calls you idiotic, but brave

Has a bright smile on his face

Can't believe you got out of there alive

Tells you to not do that shit again

Keegan's hands slowly ran down your arms as he looked over you. His eyes were shining with pride. You had just come stumbling out of the Humvee, dizzy and disoriented. After throwing off your helmet, you stare up at Keegan.

"I didn't die!"

"No, you didn't. You're so stupid."

"But brave, right?"

"Right."

Graves:

Will make fun of you

Never thought you would fuck up a mission that badly

Will be incredibly annoying about it

Doesn't even offer to help you?!

Bitch

Graves couldn't stop laughing. He was doubled over, his hand clutching his stomach. You stood in front of him, battered and bruised. A glare was on your face as you waited for him to finish. Of course he wasn't concerned. He was an asshole, why would he be?

"I can't believe you fucked up so badly!"

"Graves…"

"You crashed into a ditch!"

"Graves, I am bleeding profusely! Shut up and help me!"

[lexirosewrites]

It has taken me forever to write this so sorry if it’s still garbage lol. I absolutely love slick Sundays to hopefully you like this one. 💖

When it was all said and done, none of them had really predicted this outcome. Max and Eddie went in both with a thinly veiled death wish. Yet they had come out with little more than some cuts and bruises, Max’s one broken leg, and surprisingly happy to be alive. No it was the bigger shock that when radioing in to check on the others, group bait and distraction, were the only ones to reply. Eddie and Dustin were confused especially with Max confirming El had done it, that Vecna was gone for good now. So where were they?

Steve, Robin, and Nancy had all went into the creel house. But only Robin and Nancy had actually physically stepped out of it. And as they frantically looked on the ground, they saw the two lumps laying there from where they had both went through the window. Henry’s tentacle like vines latching onto Steve dragging him through as he went down.

Robin began frantically trying to find a pulse pulling him away from the creature he had fallen with. Nancy stood frozen unsure of what to do her shock saturating her brain; Robins screams for her to do something finally snapped her out of it. Getting Steve out was the main priority. Based on height they each took an end and hauled him up. There was some publication about not moving someone who could have a neck or back injury until authorities got there, but time was ticking and the rise and fall of Steve chest only seemed to be getting shallower. Both girls already weak had only made it about half way when Nancy’s leg gave out almost toppling them all over.

They had turned their walkie off to be as quiet as possible but now, now Nancy was rushing to find it in their pack and turn it on, to scream for help. The static exploded from it as soon as she got onto the right channel, frantic questions of what was happening, where were they and to please come in. Cutting to the chase Nancy’s voice bellowed over, “Eddie you need to make it a little past lovers lake, we need your help carrying Steve, please get here as fast as you can.” She told them. Her voice was wet and wobbly gleaming with desperation as she sat there in the leaves.

Eddie left a very pissed off Dustin, explaining that one of them needed to go help while the other needed to figure out a way to safely get Steve back over the other side. As soon as he saw them he knew it wasn’t good. Steve lay looking lifeless head cradled in Robins lap as she looked down at him. Quite frankly Eddie wasn’t so sure Steve would make it out of this one. It was in that second that Eddie got an idea that was either his most brilliant, or his most incredibly stupid one to date. Eddie was going to bite Steve.

A mating bite in life saving circumstances was reported to have a 50/50 chance of helping. And fuck it, it didn’t hurt so why not try. Moving closer and kneeling down he finally made eye contact with Robin. “I’m gonna do something and it might not work, but it also might. And I need you to just trust me.” Her face visibly shuttered, but all she could say was “Anything”, voice hollowed out from crying. Not willing to wait any longer he leaned in inhaling Steve’s beautiful scent, and bit down.

Things after that were a blur. All he vaguely remembers was Nancy angrily pulling him off, only for him to snarl at her, followed by grabbing Steve bridal style and running. Next time he comes back to himself he’s confronted with the bright lights and sterile scent of Hawkins Memorial. Looking over relief floods his body, Steve lays there in a bed adjacent to his, hooked up to an IV and oxygen, but a steady beat rings out on his heart monitor. It worked. Holy shit it actually worked. Eddie promptly passes out again.

The next time eddie wakes up Wayne is beside him reading one of his old westerns. Remembering Steve is to his left Eddie looks over once again and is greeted by Steve’s hazy eyes staring back at him. Steves face quickly morphs into a dopy smile, the oxygen mask now replaced with tubes better fitted onto his face. “Hey there big guy, how ya feeling?” Eddie asked. “I’m soo good, sooo great. I’m alive and I have an alpha now, and I like him so so much. I’m so excited to have his babies and get married and move in together and kiss.”, Steve slurred back smile never leaving his face. Eddie couldn’t help the shocked look on his face, which quickly turned to the most manic grin. “Oh you can guarantee that your alpha is gonna do all that for you and more baby cakes, just you wait till I can get out of this bed sweet thing, I’ll be waiting on you hand and foot.” Not being able to look away from his omega Eddie could hear Wayne choke on his laugh trying to prevent the cackle he usually let out when Eddie was this unfiltered.

And when both of them had recovered, Steve no longer drugged and still completely in love with being mated to Eddie, Eddie made sure that Steve’s list was fully completed. With the government payouts they got a beautiful 5 bedroom house on the out skirts of town. It had enough room to grow into and an amazing back yard that Steve had already started plans for a garden, and a list of what flowers he wanted to plant. After Eddie’s immediate proposal upon their discharge they had a date set for a lovely fall wedding. However the list couldn’t be completed without the pupping of Steve. And maybe they blew that one out of the park by getting twins on the first try, neither of them aware that they had any duplicates in their families. Steve would be around 7 months at his wedding but to him that only makes it more perfect. As for the kiss. Well let’s just say Eddie can barely go 5 minutes without giving Steve a smooch, either it be on the lips or just about anywhere he can get his mouth on and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

marriage (or mating) of convenience is such an underutilized trope and we need more of it!! especially combined with omegaverse where those bonds create further fondness and love between partners. Steve not only got saved, but he gets to be loved and cherished by his alpha now😭💕

[cassieoz]

Addiction

Addison couldn't believe she had signed up for another extreme birthing procedure. She always said that she would stop but birthing enormous babies was so addictive! She loved being pregnant and helping childless couples become parents. Addison was a strong woman with wide birthing hips that supported large babies. She loved every single aspect of the pregnancy. Addison also laboured well but when she started the second stage of pushing, the pain was always HORRIFIC.

"Why am I doing this again? Oh, here comes another contraction. It hurts. It hurts so much!"

Addison leant forward and pushed with one long deafening scream. It was too much! The parents always wanted bigger and larger babies. The mothers wanted to witness an intense birth. The couples paid well for a hard delivery. This delivery had required Addison to be impregnated with a 14 pound baby with a GIGANTIC head.

"Never! This is the last time! I can't! I don't want this anymore!"

Addison kept bearing down, trying to endure her ordeal but the agony send her completely mad.

"Please keep pushing! You are amazing birther. I love hearing you push. You are so incredible at it!" The future mother loved hearing the powerful grunts, growls and straining efforts as the baby pounded through the surrogate for two agonising hours.

As the third hour ticked over, Addison began to roar with each push. The birthing contractions had commenced. She clutched the side bars and lost all control of her composure. The primal instinctive to deliver took over her laboring core. The violent urge to expel the baby exploded in her lower body. Addison cried out and bore down in tremendously long efforts. The pulsing sensations in her lower nether region became raw, intense and primitive.

Convulsing wildly, she opened up wider around the massive crown. Trembling with each push, Addison gave the parents the birth they had paid to witness. Sweating, she quivered frantically as she entered the final round of contractions.

"Thats it, Addison. Give into the pressure and push the baby out HARD. One more huge push! Let's deliver this mega baby for this couple!"

"I can't.....stop pushing! Its coming! Its coming RIGHT NOW! I am about to give birth. I need to push it out! I NEED TO PUSH! I NEED TO BIRTH!"

Addison reached for the mother to be and begged her to coach her. The birther sobbed her to tell her how much she needed to see her PUSH.

"Oh Addison, I need you to give the biggest, loudest push ever! I need you to push until it's out. I want to hear you do this for me! PUSH NOW! GIVE BIRTH!"

Addison panted frantically as she listened to the mother to be before she leant forward and released the most intense primal roaring push!

She erupted into a million pieces! Her body went into overdrive and experienced the incredible orgasmic climax of birth. Agony turned to climatic bliss as she exploded wide and delivered the head, rapidly followed by the rest of the perfectly healthy infant.

The mother cried openly and thanked Addison over and over as her gorgeous, gigantic daughter was wrapped and passed to her. She begged Addison to do it again and give the couple a son the following year.

Addison weakly smiled and agreed. After all, the birthing release of delivery was just too addictive to ever stop now.

"Birthing huge babies does release the best pheromones for the birther. It just gets better as the babies getting bigger and larger!" The doctor and the nurse agreed as Addison delivered the afterbirth and fell into a deep, rewarding slumber

[ilykaveh]

yuuji itadori is a man full of love and adoration, and what better way is there to show it?

❀ — content: fem reader, aged up ! characters, dirty talk, praise, overstim, creampie, squirting.

"yuuji!" you squealed your boyfriend's name as he continued to pound into your warm cunt with unwavering vigour.

he'd been fucking you for what felt like forever. the sun was low on the horizon when the two of you had begun, and now the moon hung amongst a choir of stars. you would try to count the number of hours that it had been, though you were struggling to keep a count of how many times the pink-haired sorcerer had made you cum.

"so fucking good for me, baby," yuuji cooed, "you take me so well; 's like this cunt was made for me," one of his hands groped your breast, toying with your stiff nipple. he was enamoured with how your pussy fluttered around him in response.

"please, yu-" you begged, though were cut off by another moan ripping through your throat.

"please what, princess?" he teased, amused by how sensitive you were for him — something that only made him even more intoxicated by you.

"c-can't, 's too much!" you hoped he understood what you were trying to communicate, and being the sweetest man you'd ever met, he did.

"come on, baby. just one more, one more for me, yeah? you can do it, i know you can." his lustful ramblings only made the knot in your stomach grow painfully tighter, to which you whined in response. "i've got you, 'll even play with your pretty little clit 'nd make it faster, yeah?"

yuuji's filthy words made you feel like you were riding high on cloud nine. a warm, fuzzy feeling spread through your body and sent your neurons into a peaceful, blissed-out state. you babbles an affirmative for your boyfriend to resume fucking you at his desired speed, and simply laid back and enjoyed the final stretch of the ride.

"my pretty girl," he continued, "so fuckin' sweet, so perfect," yuuji wasn't thinking, he was just speaking from the heart. he could sense his orgasm nearing, and due to the way that your drooling cunt clenched around his cock, he assumed yours was too.

"doin' such a good job f'me, princes; 'm gonna cum all over y'r pretty tits, yeah? would you like that? g'na mark you as mine; only i get to see you spread out like this."

"no," you mumbled, reaching out to grip yuuji's arm.

"everything okay, angel?" he paused his movements, wide eyes filling with concern.

"wan' you to cum in me, please, yuu," you begged. "please, please, please," slowly, you trailed off.

it was a plea that he couldn't refuse. after all, he knew you'd taken measures to prevent anything unexpected happening. yuuji's pace became increasingly sporadic as he snapped his hips once again, bringing his hand down to massage taut circles around your clit like he promised.

your fists tangled in the sheets, tears threatening to spill past your lashline at the sheer volumes of pleasure. it felt as though your orgasm was a ticking time bomb, dangerously close to exploding.

more incoherent babbling from the two of you led to yuuji's final few pounds, weaker than those prior. with a particular sharp thrust that you swear you felt in your lower stomach, he spilled an unbelievable amount of warm cum into you.

the sensation caused your synchronous climax. white lights blurred your vision as you came harder than you ever had, dizziness taking over. without you having realized, a few jets of squirt hit yuuji's lower stomach. if he had anything left in him, the sight of you right now would be enough to make the man hard as a rock all over again.

without a second thought, he leaned down to entrap your lips against his own. the display of affection anchored you back to reality a little.

"you're perfect, baby." yuuji repeated. his smile as he pulled away made you feel so overwhelmed with love that it was indescribable, a purity that made you forget that you hadn't just spent the past few hours engaged in messy, messy sex.

he waited a moment before pulling out his softened cock from you, eyes transfixed on your cunt as his cum leaked out of you in small globs.

"let me go grab a rag, angel. do you need anything else? food? water? i can run us a bath if you'd like?"

you smiled back at him, giggling to yourself at the soft reminder of why you fell in love with him.

"'s okay, yuu. i just wanna be near you."

[babybratzmaraj]

You Don’t Know My Name

Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond

You as Yourself

Summary: Today was the start of your day which already wasnt worth a lick of shit, but what if someone changes that?

A/N i gave the nigga a full name, yall gone see, but SURPISEEE! @megamindsecretlair you clocked me and it is Mr Terry that was in the coming soon, hope you enjoyed yet another cameo in this series and i hope you like it!♥️ also @violetmuses ik i gave you this idea, but i stole it back and i hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Warnings: Nothing, just pure cuteness and family time.

For Boosted Experience, Heres the Official Soundtrack. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2K7IeGXgQq7K16YP1Jb7yN?si=UCA3v7yZQieKWNRrBg0wdA&pi=u-4AXbUCgzR42u

Your eyes fluttered open at the annoyance of your alarm clock blaring in your ear, you looked over to see it was 7:45, 45 minutes past your time to get ready for work.

Over today already, you slammed your hand onto the clock, not giving a damn if the thing broke or not. You looked outside to see the sun’s beautiful attempt to wake the people of Earth, the vibrancy of the colors making you jealous that you have to work at 9:30 but choose to get up to prep for it.

You glanced in the mirror and almost gave yourself seven years of bad luck, The one time you take your braids out is the day you decide to get five more minutes of sleep, Luckily, you washed and blow-dried it the night before, so it shouldn’t give you a hassle, but your hair never agrees.

You turned off the alarm clock before the snooze timer exploded your eardrums, grabbing your phone to put on your get-ready-for-work playlist.

Summer by Kenya Vaun blasted through your pink headphones, enjoying the outside before heading to work which would take the whole song, but it was just a nice way to start today.

The vibrant colors scrambled away as the blues paraded throughout the sky, the clouds playing tag and creating little symbols and animals, you could stand still and watch the sky all day and not get bored, even the heart-shaped cloud winking down at you.

You approached your job with a fake smile, Westside Diner! Home of one of the best coney dogs in your opinion, the 1950’s 1950-inspired diner was filled with memorabilia from the past and fifties like decor, you admired how much time and effort was put into making the wonderful restaurant if only there was one for us black people.

You scurried across the street, smelling the breakfast scents that lingered out into the air and slapping you dead in your negro nostrils, envy filled your body towards the people who were enjoying themselves at this establishment.

Pushing open the door, the door suddenly became lighter, shooting your hands forward as you braced your fall, an arm flung around to catch you, a small ‘oof!’ flew from your mouth.

‘Please get off me, I’m finna clock out’ You said calmly in your head, closing your eyes to not see if there were any witnesses.

Your despair was vocal enough that a deep chuckle shook you straight, “No one saw it,” he said, low enough to be quiet as a church mouse. You turned around to see if the voice matched the face and whew!

This fine… Heaven sent of a man completely towering over you, he sported a brown sweater with khakis with black dress shoes with a gold buckle on the side, gold gracefully complementing his skin tone, and not too much gold to wear it drowns the color from his eyes, good lord his eyes! as ethereal as the sky.

“Alrighty buttercup,” you snapped your head around to see Ms. Olaynika, the manager and your third mother you have collected like a Pokemon. She snapped her fingers and hurried you, “It’s 8:54, Times’a ticking and food is ready to go in stomachs!” she finished before going back to her table like she didn’t just rush you, the professionality, you loved it.

“Thank you, hope you enjoy your day.” You thanked the man before scraming away from him.

“So you mean to tell me,” Your best friend Nicole stood there with a face with her arms crossed with her eyebrows scrunched up and away like her braids, “You had this fine ass man who saved you from embarrassment, held you for a long time, and had nice eyes?”

You smiled while rolling your eyes, “I just know that isn't what all you got from that.”

“No!” She tilted her head to the side as her voice went up an octave higher than normal, “I’m just saying I don't know how you standing right here talking to me instead of going downtown.”

“I wish, but I need a ‘you deserve it’ weekend, I’m tired of being cooped in the house.” you sighed walking up to the counter with Nicole trailing you. “I can’t have Mr. Bigshot to distract me.”

“You know that’s a damn lie,” she told you in a sing-songy voice, “You gone think about him all day and that's ok! You deserve that along with your ‘you deserve it weekend’.”

She was right, but you couldn’t let her know that she wouldn’t let you hear the end of it even after your shift. You checked the notebook to see whose section was where and when the time switch was. “And how do you know he finna be on my mind?” You asked without looking up from the notebook.

“Because he is currently, at your section, Have fun!”

You finally looked up from the scribbled on paper to see that he really was in your section, his glasses placed on the tip of his nose, his gaze fixated on the book, and he had a good pick! White Smoke by Tiffany D. Jackson, Your smile flipped inwards as you admired his taste in books.

You straighten your posture, checking if your shirt was ok and decent for the eyes to absorb. You pranced towards his booth with a smile on your face, clicking your pen to hide the fact that you were absolutely scared to talk to this man without your stuttering sneaking through the flaps of your mouth.

You stated your name with a smile and snuck glances at his book. He was at the part where Marigold was sneaking around her mom and her stepdad to make her very own weed farm, but it was destroyed by something or someone? Who the fuck knows, you never got to finish, maybe you can go to the library soon to catch up on it.

“Passionate reader huh?” He asked, noticing your desperate attempts to read along with him. You hid your smile behind your notepad, “You caught me, That is my favorite author, even though I only finished one book.”

“Really?” His eyebrows were hunched, sticking a napkin in place of a bookmark. “Yes! The book was called ‘Grown’. It was such a lovely book and-” You started to ramble about the book but you’ve realized, you don’t get paid for sharing interests, you get paid for working.

“What would you like?”

“Oh, you can’t do that to me.” he covered his heart as if he was just insulted, “You can’t leave me like that, I wanted to hear about this book.”

“Maybe if we meet again, I do look better outside my work clothes,” you joked and he laughed, your toes spazzing out inside your black Nike huaraches, He laughed! And he had a nice one, a very cute one along with his ear-to-ear smile.

“Coffee, Please, and whatever food you think I would enjoy.”

“Ooooook.” You jotted down his order, “And how would you like your coffee?”

“Sweet, Like you.” he winked.

“Give me 5 minutes and I’ll be back with your coffee.”

It’s been 20 minutes since you last gave Mystery Man his meal. Since he let you be the judge of what he ate, you gave him one of your favorites at this diner! The Western Omelette with crispy hash browns on the side with a smiley face in ketchup. While waiting at other tables, you observed him nervously, scared that he might not like your selection of breakfast foods, that you put too much sugar and whipped cream in his coffee, which you also made a smiley face on as well, he had you anxious and you didn’t like it, he was a cute stranger after all.

After a while you sucked it up, shaking your jitters away as you walked up to his booth. “Everything alright with your order?”

“Mm!” He signaled you to wait for a little minute as he took a sip of his coffee, licking his lips as he gently set the mug down, “I loved it, the hash browns may be my new favorite here.”

You felt relieved, your muscles that you didn’t even know were tensed eased, “I’m glad I can make your morning better! Would you like anything else?”

“Uh, A To-Go Box and a Fruit Punch To-Go please.” He smiled, grabbing a napkin to dab the sides of his mouth.

“I can start on the fruit punch and if you want, you can follow me to ring out your order.”

“No need,” he said, digging into his pocket and handing you his black card. This nigga is fancy.

You looked at the card almost dumbfounded. You never really saw a black card, only heard about it from Fabolous and movies and shit, but never seen it in person.

You carefully grabbed his card from his hands, “I’ll be back.”

You walked away and checked on your other table that wanted your attention before him. Making sure everyone was ok with their needs met, you walked to the cash register, punching in his food and coffee, sneaking a peek at the name on the card, Terrance Richmond. A sophisticated name for a sophisticated man, a wonderful sight to see.

You slid the card with the receipt into your waist apron as you asked one of your co-workers to ring in a new customer while you started on his fruit punch with light ice. The fruit punch here was delicious and it didn’t need to be watered down with hella ice.

Swiftly grabbing a To-Go box on your way out, you happily waddled towards Terry’s table. “Your Box, Punch and,” You dragged your last word as you pulled out his card and receipt out the apron, “Card, Mr. Richmond.”

“Oh! I see you snuck a peek for my name, it's only right I know your full one.” he teased you as he examined the paper.

“I don’t get paid for that, I get paid to service you.” you teased back as you can only hope you get to do that for free.

You gave him your pen and pointed to the line below the total, “Since you did pay with card, You need to sign here, for fraud protection purposes. While you do that, I shall be back with your copy.”

He silently thanked you, his smile growing wider and more innocent. You looked around and made eye contact with Nicole, making matching faces as you two met at the counter.

“Sooooo,” she started, “How’s Tall, Black, and Lightskin?” she asked as you covered your mouth, silently howling in the semi-busy environment around you two. “He has a name, it’s Terrance.”

“I’m not calling him that long ass name!” she huffed as she rang in her customer's order, “That nigga name will be Mr. Pretty Eyes.”

“Terrance too long of a name but Mr. Pretty Eyes is just right? Kinda backwards shit is that Yoda?”

“Care about that shit, I do not!” she perfectly said in Yoda, causing you both to snicker, tapping each other on the shoulder. “Plus must I remind you of that alien ass nigga you had a crush on in 6th-”

“Eugh!” You verbally voiced your displeasure with yourself, his face just flashing into your head. “We don’t speak about that vermin.”

Nicole threw her hands up, taking a pen from the clean cup to scratch her head full of braids. “Aw, Shit. I gave him my pen.” you reminded yourself scooting past her to go to his booth but he was long gone, all that was left was his fruit punch, your pen, and a 50 dollar bill. The writing on the cup said ‘Enjoy Yourself:)’. You looked around for his silhouette, but he was long gone, you smiled at his nice gesture of leaving you a fruit punch.

What a way to start off your morning.

Home, 8 pm,

You closed your eyes as your bed welcomed you back into its arms, the savory smell of chili floating around in your room.

You finished your shift with ease after your little encounter with that man. That’s rude, his name is Terry, Terrance, but permanently Terry. You have got to stop beating yourself up over something small.

But it wasn’t small, everything that flowed off that man was so intoxicating, a mystery in a good book or show that you just want to solve, but not so quickly, you needed some fun in your life.

After your shift, You and Nicole walked to your house to talk for a few and according to her, you were a daydreamer. Every few minutes or so, you would zone out, even her calling you Buttercup didn’t snap you out, and that’s close to an army vet being awoken by ‘At Ease’.

You denied it but you definitely were. You just couldn’t stop thinking about how his reading voice is, Was he gentle? Was he passionate? Would he carefully rub the pages before turning? Does he lick his index to turn it? Many outcomes, Many Possibilities.

A tickling sensation jolted you out of your trance, your eyes zapping to the culprit, which was your grandmother, “I’ve been yelling your name Cupcake!” she sarcastically smiled, waving the clean black spoon around like a mad woman.

“Sorry Mama Moonie,” You bounced to your feet, grabbing your phone off the bed before extending your arms towards her.

“Yeah, Yeah. When we get to this table you gone tell me what boy got my baby acting like she’s Tiana.” she pointed the spoon in your face, giving you an up-down before she walked away leaving you speechless. “Who said it was a boy!”

You trailed behind her as she grabbed two navy blue bowls out of the cabinet, peering at you like you must’ve forgotten who she was.

“Cupcake lemme tell ya,” she started, ready to tell you information you already knew by saying:

“I have been on this earth for 63 long ass years, that's 6 decades’ worth of knowledge compared to the few you have. You don’t think I have had those experiences where a man would have me ina spell! His aura haunts you in a way that makes you paralyzed, the masculinity he possesses within himself, and to not be an asshole in the same breath. I could go all day but you don’t wanna hear about my pussy being wet.”

“MOONIES!” you yelled as she started howling, your body shuddering at the thought of- That! But she is always so blunt in everything she does, you have no choice but to love it.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, swatting her laughter away, “But I’m saying, I’ve been there, so you might as well spill that tea before I clock that tea.” she finished, hitting the spoon on the pot before turning around with two full bowls of chili as she headed to the table.

“I have got to get you off of instagram reels,” you said aloud, popping the top on the pot and running water on the spoon before placing it over a towel to dry. turning around to see her shimmy into her way into the dark oak dining chair, her hands await yours.

“Let me grab crackers, I’ll join in a second.” you hurriedly opened the cabinet to grab the open box of ritz crackers, your feet shuffling to the left and the right before shimmying yourself into your seat, setting your crackers next to your bowl as you joined hands with Mama Moonies as you bowed for prayers.

“Lord I thank you for returning us to our safe and humble domain, may the food we are about to eat gives us the nutrients we need and the energy to finish our day strong, Lord I ask you for anything we don’t feel like talking about, to be in your hands, bless us with what we need, rid us of what we don’t. Lord, I also ask you to let our questions that need to be answered, be the answers that keep us sane. In Jesus name, Amen.”

The prayer ended and the tea quickly began to be spilled. You told Mama Moonies about everything, the one thing you loved about dinner time in this house, it was a time of love and happiness to be spilled around, with a lil bit of judgment here and there, but all harmless.

You told her about how the man basically saved you from embarrassment, wanted to know more about you, even made you get your own drink with a tip and a message, even telling her how you hoped he would become a regular. Her face stuck on a smirk as she downed her chilli. “Oh what Mama!” you exclaimed after having enough of her looks and giggles from time to time.

“Seems like you have a crush.”

“That I don’t!” Yes you did.

“You definitely do, and I don’t blame you, because you are either that or delusional, and my baby ain't that bullshit!” Welllllll.

“That man looks nice, is nice and the pockets right, of course I’m not saying you should go for his pockets, that would be wrong. But go for your heart child, open yourself, be free!” Moonies smiled as her arms expanded as big as the galaxy she was imagining, her wrinkled hand resting peacefully on yours, rubbing your knuckles with tender care. “I know you are shy, but it’s time to let it be known that you are here! be known that you deserve love and hey! God will bless you with a man, or that man. And hopefully, he packing.” Moonie's bluntness slipped out at the end, filling the room with belly laughter.

As the laughter died down, so did the food, bellies protruding out of their correct spots. “I’ll clean up, you go take a shower and enjoy your evening.” Moonies pat your hand, swiftly taking your bowl without your knowledge.

“You don’t have to!” You protest but she shot through your sign with a glare that will make a christian do Satan's stare. “Enjoy the rest of your night. I shall see you in da murrning!”

You blew a kiss towards her direction, pushing yourself up as itis started to race with your energy, and your energy was losing, but at least you can spend what you have left daydreaming about Mr. Richmond, something tells you that wasn’t your last time seeing him.

You Got Mail!: @megamindsecretlair @thecapodomme @harmshake @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @kimuzostar @yaachtynoboat711 @miyuhpapayuh @nayaxwrites @planetblaque @darqchilddaydreamz @henneseyhoe @slippinninque

[dirtytomatoedwrites]

Preludes and Nocturnes - Part 2

Paring: Rafe Cameron x InnocentPogue!reader

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

PART 1 is here if you haven't read it

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

Word Count: 8.3k words (Rafe has released the writing beast in me)

Author Note: Hello lovelies! So happy you enjoyed the first part.  Here's the second. I thought it would just be just a second part but the more I wrote the story just kept unfolding and I really want to do it justice. (I think part 1 and 2 together is the longest I've written for any fic character) So in order to really get into the angst and it not be too long its going to have to be 3 perhaps 4 parts (not sure yet) Anyway I'm currently writing part 3 so it won't be too long before posting. One thing - there's only one piece of music with this part and I would suggest playing it and leaving it running while you read the rest of the chapter.

Thank you for reading and sticking with the story and if you enjoyed it please reblog. It helps to spread the love.  Much love and take care. ❤️

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.

The soft glow of your phone, quietly vibrating beside you, nudged you out of your peaceful slumber. Still shrouded in a groggy haze, you instinctively turned away from it. Without even a glance, you knew who the messenger was, and the mere thought that he had sent another text caused a weary sigh to escape your lips.

Rafe's persistent attempts to connect since that unforgettable night had been unrelenting. Ignoring his calls was relatively easy (you had silenced his number), but his text messages proved more difficult to dismiss. Simple words like "Hey," "Hi," and "Talk to me" consistently lit up your phone at all hours, serving as a gentle yet persistent plea for your response—a response you couldn't bring yourself to give, yet somehow couldn't bring yourself to block him outright either. Ultimately, you opted for what seemed the only rational strategy, although in hindsight, it may not have been the wisest: complete avoidance.

But, in truth, none of that mattered. Not when your waking thoughts and dreams were dominated by memories of Rafe, endlessly replaying the night you shared. The feeling of being completely overwhelmed that night, your pleading words that it was all too much, that you needed to stop, were still fresh in your mind. How Rafe merely smiled in response and declared it was only the beginning, sealing his promise with a kiss.

And as he kissed you slow and deep, Rafe was true to his word. His middle finger wormed its way back between your legs. He found your sensitive clit already swollen and slippery with your slick and rubbed the nub in gentle circles in sync with his languid kiss. Slow and steady, minutes ticked by as Rafe dragged out your pleasure, watching you patiently, drawing back his finger whenever he felt you were close, his tongue lazily circling yours, as you both breathed as one. Until finally, finally, he allowed you to cum.

Your body exploded for him, blinding white pleasure saturated your senses leaving you crying and shaking while Rafe whispered soothingly against the shell of your ear "That's a good girl. That's my good girl."

Your unforgettable night with Rafe was unparalleled, surpassing all previous experiences, including those with your first and only boyfriend, Jake. Granted, you had not given Jake the same liberties, but even with the awkward kisses and over-the-clothes groping that marked your brief relationship, Jake had never elicited emotions remotely comparable to what Rafe managed in just one evening. What Rafe stirred effortlessly within you was a different beast entirely — something desperate, needy, and vulnerable. The sensation was so powerful that even three weeks later, it remained, smoldering like a steadfast ember, ready to reignite under the right conditions.

This realization filled you with absolute dread. The sudden understanding that it was Rafe- Rafe Cameron that held the power to shape your desires, ignite unknown cravings, and provoke illicit responses from your body that you couldn't control, was utterly terrifying.

You had often heard tales of girls falling for the proverbial 'bad boy,' forsaking their better judgment for some reckless charmer, and had always scoffed at such narratives. The thought of you succumbing to such feelings or desires was, until recently, beyond the realm of your wildest dreams. It seemed, however, that you were not as immune as you had once believed. All it took was the right—or perhaps, in this case, the wrong—person to stir those latent desires to the surface.

The sheets felt like an unwelcome weighted blanket on your body, pressing you down as you twisted and turned, desperately trying for sleep to come. But it remained stubbornly out of reach. Instead, you found yourself overwhelmed by a flood of polarising emotions.

Chief among them was a sharp sting of shame from that night with Rafe—a shame born from the startling responsiveness of your own body to his, and a gnawing guilt that it was Rafe, of all people, who had elicited such a reaction.

Yet, beneath the layers of guilt and shame, another emotion stirred, one you fervently sought to squash: a thrill of excitement at how utterly alive you felt being dominated by him and the confusing, even more, inescapable undeniable truth—you had loved every single intoxicating minute of it.

In a small town of no more than 7000 souls, you had turned avoiding Rafe into something of an art form. It wasn't difficult, really. Your comfort zones were galaxies away from the crowded, noisy spots that seemed to magnetize him. Bars, clubs, and bonfires weren't your scene anyway.  Your day-to-day orbit included exam prep and college applications, mostly done at the library for a change of scenery, relentless babysitting shifts, and quiet trips to the edges of the out sticks with your cousin to catch crawfish —far from the exclusive circles of Figure 8. 

Life was, if not exactly smooth sailing, at least predictably turbulent. Everything seemed under control, except for one tiny, nagging detail: Rafe. And your near-pathological commitment to avoid him.

On an average day that seemed to blend seamlessly with the rest, you were navigating your way through a series of errands for your dad. The North Carolina sun was blazing overhead casting sharp shadows. As you rounded a corner bathed in this bright, unforgiving light, a figure suddenly materialized. At first, it seemed like a trick of the heat, an illusion stirred up by the sweltering atmosphere. But as your eyes adjusted, recognition dawned. It was Rafe, but he looked... different.

Your gaze drank in the details, lingering over the notable changes—the buzzcut that gave him an even more dangerous edge, the way he stood taller, seeming to tower over the world, the newfound confidence that rolled off him in waves, a palpable energy that dared anyone to challenge him.  But the transformation wasn't just physical. An undercurrent of danger clung to him like a second skin.  He looked like he had seen things. Done bad things.

Reality came rushing back, slamming into you like a tidal wave, you tried to reverse course, turning on your heels to disappear from his line of sight. Yet, your reaction came a second too late. Rafe had spotted you, and maybe if you hadn't just blown most of your cash on groceries, you would've dropped them and run.

Rafe's speed was unrivaled. With just a few long strides, he effortlessly caught up to you. Firmly grasping your arm, he swiftly spun you around to face him, and there, you saw your own reflection in his Ray-Bans. He slid the sunglasses onto his head, revealing his piercing blue eyes. He made no attempt to hide the whirlpool of emotions swirling within them.

"That's not very neighborly of you," he said. His words were clipped and tinged with anger, yet something in his expression softened slightly as he gazed at you. Was it relief? Disappointment? It was difficult to determine, but one thing was clear—his emotions were just as tumultuous as yours.

"I forgot something—"

"Oh, you forgot something?" His grip tightened, decreasing the space between you.

"Yes, from the supermarket—"

"What, the one over there?" he asked, casually gesturing over his shoulder in the opposite direction.

"A different store."

"Right, right. Well, I'll walk you there."

"No! I've changed my mind," you protested, shaking your head. Your feet instinctively shuffled backward as you attempted to free yourself from his grip. His laughter was low and dry, his hold on you tightening.

"I need to go, Rafe. Let me go. I have to get home," you pleaded, desperation edging your voice.

"You heard her, country club. She said 'Let go'." The forceful tug-of-war between you and Rafe abruptly seized as both of you turned to see Barry approaching. You'd never directly interacted with Barry, but tales of his local thuggery and drug dealing were well-known to you. He greeted Rafe with a familiarity that, given Rafe's reputation, was not surprising.

"This doesn't concern you, man. Keep moving," Rafe commanded, his gaze fixed on Barry.

"Well, I did hear her say 'let her go'," Barry remarked, positioning himself beside you.

"Yeah well, she doesn’t know what she wants," Rafe retorted, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips as he pulled you closer, positioning himself between you and Barry.

"Just let her go, man—"

"Fuck off," Rafe spat.

Unfazed, Barry squinted and leaned in closer. "You realize how this looks, right? Out here in broad daylight?" he warned.

“Keep walking,” Rafe's jaw clenched as he squared off against Barry.

"Do you not realize what you are doing, bro?"

"I said keep walking," Rafe said icily, maintaining eye contact.

An unspoken exchange passed between the two men, concluding with Barry retreating, hands lifted in a gesture of surrender. “Alright then,” he conceded. “You do you, country club. You do you. But don't come crying to me when this shit backfires. I warned your J.Crew lookin' ass.”

After Barry's departure, Rafe scanned the surroundings before returning his focus to you.

"Where's your car?" His question hung heavily in the air as you looked up at him, fear evident in your eyes.

“Hey, I asked you a question,” Rafe's voice softened, his hand gently shaking your arm. “Where's your car?”

"It's...it's not working,” you whispered.

“You walked here?”

You nodded, swallowing hard.

A smirk crept across his lips. "Well, aren't you in luck? I'll give you a ride."

"No, that's... I can walk. I planned to walk—"

"Don't. Don't do that. Don’t act dumb, alright? It's nearly a hundred degrees out. What- you planning on collapsing on the side of the road?" His tone was surprisingly gentle, even as he grabbed the grocery bag from your hands. "Let's not make a mountain out of a molehill, yeah? Barry's already acting like a fool. We don't need a full circus," he stated, heading towards his truck and leaving you with no choice but to trail after him.

Rafe held the door open for you, assisting you as you climbed onto the plush leather seat. After handing you the grocery bag, he closed the door and walked around to the driver's side. In a subtle move to put some distance between the two of you, you placed the grocery bag in the middle.

Rafe started the truck, rolled up the windows, and activated the air conditioning. The truck pulled out of the parking lot, beginning a mostly silent ride.

Apart from the occasional glances Rafe threw your way, the journey remained relatively quiet. He made no attempt to hide his attention, his thumb rhythmically tapping on the steering wheel. The intensity of his gaze was unnerving, and you felt like you were suffocating despite the AC. You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze.

"You look good..." Rafe stated, punctuating his words with an approving nod. The compliment stirred a flurry of emotions within you, leaving you feeling disoriented. As your heart pounded like a war drum, the silence seemed to morph, becoming dense and strangling.

"Thank you," you muttered trying to fill it. Your gaze firmly on the road ahead.

"How's your dad?" He asked, initiating a light conversation about your dad's well-being. You answered his questions with measured caution, unsure of his intentions. You informed him that your dad was coming home tonight and you intended to cook him a meal since he practically survived on sandwiches during the week in Burnsville. Rafe's thoughtful nods suggested he was listening, but there was an undercurrent of ambiguity that left you uneasy.

"What are you planning on making for him?" he asked with a semblance of innocence.

Your voice wavered as you listed the dishes, each word revealing your growing vulnerability. Anticipating his next move or comment, your heart raced and you braced yourself for what felt like an inevitable confrontation. You kept thinking he'd ask about the unanswered calls, about his ignored messages.

"Wow, you’re a real cook, not just a 'barely-can-boil-water' cook."

“I manage,” you replied.

Rafe hummed in agreement, his thumb still tapping the steering wheel albeit slower; more measured. “You know, Wheeze misses you.”

“I miss her too. How is she?”

“Good. She’s got exams coming up, so she’s been focusing on that. She's also got herself a little girlfriend."

"You seem to approve. Let me guess, Kook?" you asked absentmindedly.

"Nah, Pogue," he corrected, emphasizing the 'P'. "I guess we like what we like, huh?" he said, eyes raking over you.

Silence followed as Rafe steered away from the main road, venturing down an isolated street lined with beech trees. Decaying houses dotted the landscape, separated by wild stretches of tall bluestems and switchgrass.

"You should, you know… come by the house. See her sometime. I know she’d like that."

“Oh- I.. I would but I can't," you stammered, shaking your head "I have college applications to finish. Maybe sometime after."

“Right, right… college... applications... where are you applying?”

"Um… Kildare Community, Piedmont, Sun Valley, Crystal Coast Community--"

"What about Juilliard or Berklee? You applying to any of those?”

His question caught you off guard, and you turned your gaze towards him. Under the sunlight, his handsome profile seemed almost otherworldly.

"I hadn't really given it much thought," you confessed, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

His eyes fixed on yours, curiosity flickering in them. "Why not?"

Your answer was simple, albeit hard to articulate. "I can't afford it," you said with a shrug. Your eyes back on the unfolding road ahead when his gaze became too much.

"Don't they offer scholarships?"

"Yeah, they do. But the competition among applicants would be intense-"

"So? You're talented. Apply." he said matter of factly. "There are folks on the cut dreaming of an escape, with squat to show for it. You? You have options..." His voice trailed off, and he shook his head, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. "Don't squander it. Not here and definitely not at some shitty community college."

Taken aback, you struggled to find a response, and it didn't help that you could feel his eyes on you, evaluating your reaction. The remaining ride passed in silence, and by the time he pulled up outside your house, you were more than relieved.

"Thank you, Rafe," you said, quickly reaching for your grocery bag, but Rafe stopped you.

"So, that's it? Just 'thank you, Rafe?'" he asked, his jaw shifting restlessly from side to side, as though words were on the edge of his tongue, fighting to break free.

"Oh— I'm sorry, I should've offered to cover the gas. I don't have much on me, but I can--" Your words were cut short by Rafe shaking his head.

"I don't want your money."

Fear prickled your skin, "Then what—what do you want?" Swallowing nervously, you awaited his response.

Rafe's gaze flitted to your lips then back to your eyes "A kiss." he said.

Your head jerked back, unsure you'd heard him correctly.

"A kiss?" you echoed, attempting to digest his sudden proposal.

"Yeah, just a kiss," he replied. His voice was so steady, so devoid of emotion, it was as if he was merely commenting on the weather or asking if you had the time.

Your query rang out once more, uncertainty creeping into your voice, "A kiss?"

"Just one. One kiss and we call it even." Rafe's lean-in was deliberate, his index finger lightly grazing your jaw, igniting a trail of warmth along your skin and unsubconsciously you leaned into it.

"A kiss," you whispered back, your eyes locked onto his. Perhaps you didn't want things to escalate into a fight, but maybe, just maybe, a part of you wanted to kiss him. Taking a breath to steel yourself, you leaned in, brushing a swift kiss against his cheek. Almost instinctively, his lips followed, seeking yours.

"That's, that's not a kiss," Rafe breathed, his eyes growing progressively darker with each word he spoke.

Gently, Rafe curled his fingers around the back of your neck, drawing you closer. His attention was solely focused on your lips. As if under a spell, you relented, delivering a brief, innocent kiss onto his lips. But just as you began to pull away, Rafe halted you, his fingers remaining intertwined at the nape of your neck.

"Nah, that doesn't count."

"I kissed you, Rafe—" you began, your voice trembling.

"No, no. You owe me a real kiss for all the unanswered texts and the missed calls..." His words triggered a surge of panic within you and you tried to pull away, but Rafe held you firm, his gaze burning into your own. "I was worried about you. Did you know that?" he asked, his eyebrows creasing in confusion.

"We had fun. I made you feel good and then you just...." He paused, collecting his thoughts, his eyes darting between your lips and your startled expression. "I thought something had happened to you. But then, I woke the fuck up and realised you were safe - you just ghosted me. You know, I even contemplated driving over to your house? But I knew your dad wouldn't appreciate that. I thought I might never see you again, and then...there you were."

Rafe's words gushed forth like a sudden revelation. "There you were, shopping for groceries to cook for your dad, playing the dutiful daughter, blissfully content in your little world, while mine was hell." He spat out the words with venom, his fingers tensing at the nape of your neck, pulling you so close that his lips were mere millimeters from yours. His eyes, swirling with turmoil, locked intensely onto your eyes, which were now brimming with unshed tears.

"So, while I'm relieved you're okay," he started, his lips curving into a slight pout as he painstakingly enunciated each word, "You owe me. You owe me for thinking about you. You owe me for worrying about you. Now, open your mouth."

"Rafe," you whispered, tears beginning to cascade down your cheeks.

"I said, open. Your. Mouth." His voice hardened, his command leaving no room for doubt.

Your broken sob was all it took for Rafe to swoop in, kissing you passionately. His tongue probed the depths of your mouth, and you willingly complied, feeling the unmistakable force in his movements - raw, desperate, determined.

With each passing moment, Rafe deepened the kiss, leaning into you even further. He poured in his passion, demanding that you returned it with equal intensity, leaving your head spinning and your heart aching. The sheer intensity of the moment left you gasping for breath, and as Rafe's lips left yours to press desperate, kisses against your cheek and down the column of your throat you felt like you couldn't breathe at all.

"Please, I have to go, I have to," you managed to muster, pulling his fingers away and pushing him back. With a surge of determination, you grabbed your grocery bag and yanked on the passenger door, only for Rafe to swiftly reach over and slam it shut.

You turned to face him, struggling to catch your breath and see him through your teary haze. Rafe's face portrayed a picture of calm, cold calculation, with only the harsh puffs of air escaping his lips marring that composure. "You're making this difficult," he uttered, his voice echoing the icy chill of his demeanor. "It doesn't have to be."

Rafe relinquished his hold on the door, and you seized the opportunity, yanking it open. You nearly lost your balance in the process but managed to catch yourself just in time. Without daring to look back, you bolted towards your porch. Only when you heard the grating sound of his truck pulling away and tires screeching against the gravel did you risk a glance back.

The rhythmic splash of water against the wooden planks of the dinghy was the only sound as you and your cousin worked in tandem, freeing the crawfish from their nets and emptying them into plastic buckets filled with fresh water.

The usual serene ambiance of your shared task was disrupted by the thickening tension in the air, both from the approaching storm and from the heavy silence your cousin seemed eager to shatter.

"You know," she began, her voice deliberately casual, "Konnie's been running her mouth again."

You looked up from the net you were shaking above the bucket of cold water, one eyebrow raised. “Oh, yeah? What crazy story has she cooked up this time?"

She hesitated, then said with faux nonchalance, "Something about seeing Rafe with a girl yesterday. Says she looked a lot like you."

"What?" You froze mid-shake, a flicker of surprise crossing your face.

"Wild, right?”

Forcing a laugh, you attempted to balance surprise with casual dismissal. "Konnie's always been good at making stuff up."

She glanced sharply at you, her gaze assessing. "It's not ‘making stuff up’ if Barry was there to corroborate it."

The weight of the revelation pulled at your focus.

“This sounds like something out of a K-drama," you whispered, your focus back on your trap.

"Isn't it just? Our Kook King looking down on half the town like we're nothing but shit beneath his shoes, is with a Pogue. An actual born and bred Pogue. I don’t know if that’s rich in irony or if it makes him a hypocrite?" She laughed bitterly.

"Both, probably, if it were true. But it’s not.”

She nodded slowly. "Right well, Konnie said Barry tried to stop Rafe from making a scene. Why would Rafe be making a scene?” she asked, her eyes locked onto you.

Your fingers tightened around the net, your heart beating in your throat. "I don't know. It's the outer banks. People talk. They get things wrong and--"

She sighed, leaning closer. "Is there something going on between you and Rafe?”

“No, there isn't—"

“Because if there is, I need to know. Like, are you sleeping with him-“

“No!”

“Then are you dating him?”

“No- it’s not like that." You said shaking your head profusely.

"Then what's it like?"

"I babysit his sister you know that—" you faltered under your cousin's intense gaze. "He just happened to be in town when I was grocery shopping and he gave me a ride home. Nothing happened.”

Your cousin gave out a bitter laugh and shook her head. "A minute ago you were acting like it was some baseless rumour—”

"Because you were freaking me out! What else was I supposed to say? You just came at me with a bunch of questions like I did something wrong" You said, your face hot.

You couldn’t help but notice your cousin’s frustrated sigh.

“Look, I’ve got your back, regardless of whatever is going on here. And I can’t tell you how to live your life, that's for you to decide. But, Rafe-- Rafe is not the type of guy you want to be involved with in any capacity. I thought you knew that.” The distant growl of thunder underscored the urgency of her words.

“I do, and I’m not,” you said, licking your lips.

“Good. Because Rafe would never risk being seen in public with a Pogue, let alone put his reputation on the line for one. If you get involved with him, you'll be the one who ends up getting hurt."

"I know," you murmured in agreement.

She nodded and looked up at the darkening sky. "Good. Just making sure we're on the same page is all."

"We are," You nodded, barely able to meet her eyes. "We should hurry," you said quietly. "A storm's coming."

During the subsequent week, Rafe had surfaced in your life more times than in the previous three weeks of no contact. Initially, you brushed it off as mere coincidence. You saw him at the market, then again at the docks, immersed in intense conversation with his friends, and once again at the wreck when you went to pick up food. Each encounter was brief, like an encounter with a spectre and each time you slipped away, thankfully, unseen.

With your heart hammering in your chest, you assured yourself that he wasn't intentionally seeking you out. You dismissed these run-ins as sheer coincidence. That's what you convinced yourself, at least.

Until the Library.

Your heart stuttered as you spotted him through the double doors just as you were about to exit. There he was, nonchalantly leaning against his truck, eyes concealed behind Ray-Bans and his arms folded.

Despite the casual stance, his presence radiated terrifying, intimidating energy. His posture, his unwavering gaze, his patient vigil - it all pointed towards one intention. It felt like you had been doused with cold water when realization struck-

Rafe was waiting.

For you.

Two choices lay before you. Either you could escape through the back door or find a window to climb out of. But deep down, you knew these would only delay the inevitable. It was time to confront the situation. Harnessing every ounce of courage, you resolved to put an end to this.

Usually, you'd carry only a handful of books, but today you had filled your tote. The thought of smacking Rafe in the head with it seemed like a good option. Adjusting the strap on your shoulder and gripping the bag firmly, you pulled the brass handle, flung open the door, and strode down the library’s stone steps, your chin lifted high.

A grin worthy of the Cheshire Cat split Rafe's face, his teeth flashing with amusement as he watched you. But you didn't give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence. You breezed past him, leaving him behind in your determined stride.

Not long after, Rafe slipped into his truck and drove alongside you, his arm hanging out of the window, eyes flicking between you and the road.

"It's gonna rain, you know." he said. His voice, smooth as silk, echoed around you. You kept walking, acting as if his words had fallen on deaf ears, yet they hung ominously in the air.

"It's gonna rain, you know," Rafe repeated, amusement tingeing his tone.

"I heard you the first time," you snapped, your voice sharper than you had intended.

Rafe whistled in surprise. His grin only widened, “Come on, don't be like that. Get in. I'll give you a ride."

You faltered for a moment at his offer, but quickly regained your stride. "I don't need anything from you, Rafe."

"Sure about that?" He drawled, his truck moving at the same steady pace as you.

The thrum of your heartbeat in your ears underscored your steely resolve, refusing to meet his gaze. The truck's engine growled ominously at your side.

"You know, a ride with me wouldn't be so bad. In fact, you might enjoy it”

"I'd rather get hit by lightning," you fired back, keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead.

Rafe removed his sunglasses and lightly tossed them on the dash. His silence was heavy, bearing witness to your defiance before his voice returned, a touch of impatience coating his words. "So how much longer are you planning to keep this up?"

“What do you mean? Keeping what up?”

“Running...pretending like you don’t give a shit—”

"Who said anything about running? I'm walking away. There's a difference."

"Oh, is that what this is? Right. Right." He drawled, the truck maintaining its constant presence by your side. "Well, it looks more like running to me."

"You can think whatever you want, Rafe. I really don’t care" Your words were as icy as a protective shield, distancing you from his unnerving scrutiny.

"You know," he spoke after another pause, his voice melting into a softer, intimate cadence, "You'd think I'd be bored by now but nah, I like these little interactions of ours. I look forward to them, actually…”

"Don't," you managed to whisper.

"Don't what?" He questioned, feigned innocence in his tone. You could hear the smirk in his voice, a symbol of triumph despite your rebuffs.

"Just leave me alone, Rafe."

"You know I can't do that," he declared with unshakeable certainty.

"Why not?" You shot back, halting to confront him and Rafe hit the brakes. As you turned to face him, the first drops of rain began to fall, soaking your skin and hair. You surrendered to the sensation, letting the rain blur your surroundings into an indistinct haze. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

A fleeting wave of vulnerability crossed Rafe's face, causing his confident smile to momentarily falter. "You know why..." He began, licking his lips, as if the weight of his next words were a challenge to articulate.

"No, I don’t. Aren't there plenty of Kooks you should be chasing after? Isn't that supposed to be your speed, anyway?" Your voice was laced with a mix of frustration and genuine curiosity.

He exhaled slowly, his eyes unwavering, locked onto yours. "Okay, you want me to spell it out? Fine." Leaning in just slightly, ensuring every word landed with intent, he said, "I like you, yeah? Not some Kook or a Touron. You." And then, softer, almost a whisper against the backdrop of the rain, "You know I do." The quiet intensity of his affirmation sent shivers down your spine. It was a truth both of you had danced around, a truth as terrifying as it was undeniable. Time seemed to stretch in that moment, punctuated only by the drumming rain and the frantic pace of your heart.

You swallowed hard, battling the storm of emotions threatening to spill out. "Well, you have a peculiar way of showing it," you managed to say, your voice quivering with a mix of vulnerability and defiance. His unexpected honesty had pulled the rug out from under your feet, leaving you reeling. "You've been stalking me, trying to intimidate me, forcing me to do things I don't want to--"

"Forcing you?" Rafe’s gaze hardened as he studied your face. "Forcing you? I’m forcing you?”

“Yes, Rafe. Forcing me,” you protested, the words tinged with desperation, a last-ditch attempt to create distance between you two.

Rafe chuckled under his breath as he shook his head. “I'm forcing you, but you came harder than you've ever done in your entire life just from my fingers. I'm forcing you, but you came so many times you could barely remember your own name--"

"I never wanted any of that! I didn't ask for any of that—" You tried to reason only for Rafe to silence you with a frustrated roar, his hand banging on the steering wheel.

"Get in the fucking truck!!"

"No!" you laughed shakily “No. in fact, I'm perfectly fine. Right. Here." you declared defiantly, tilting your head back to let the rain wash over you. A temporary respite came with your eyes squeezed shut. When you dared to open them again, Rafe was still there, an unwavering, persistent figure.

With another heavy sigh, Rafe surrendered. "Alright." he nodded bitterly "Alright, You're really gonna make me do this, huh?"

"Do what?" you retorted, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Before you could decipher his next move, Rafe abruptly killed the engine, flung open the door and stepped out into the torrential downpour. The heavens seemed intent on soaking him through. Droplets of rain lashed down, darkening his shirt until it clung to his chiseled torso, revealing the muscular contours beneath.

"What the fuck," you whispered under your breath, your heart racing from his unexpected action. There he stood, defiant against the torrential rain, every drop sliding down his chiseled features, his piercing eyes never wavering from yours.

Time seemed to stand still until, driven by some invisible force, Rafe lunged forward pulling you into his embrace, his lips fiercely meeting yours.

His lips was soft. Not demanding and you found yourself responding instinctively. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest as your hands moved to grip the wet fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. You could taste the rain on his lips, mingled with the hint of sweetness from the soda he had been drinking earlier. The world disappeared.

There was only him.

The kiss deepened, Rafe's hand moved to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in your rain-soaked hair, while his other arm snaked around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. His touch sent a shiver of anticipation running down your spine, setting your nerves alight. The rain beating down on you both seemed to fade into the background, drowned out by the thunderous pounding of your heart.

His lips moved with a fervor that left you breathless, each stroke of his tongue against yours an echo of the underlying passion and yearning that had been simmering beneath the surface. Every sensation, every emotion was amplified tenfold in the shared intimacy of the kiss. You surrendered completely to the moment, losing yourself in the touch of his skin, the strength of his hold, and the intoxicating taste of his lips.

Eventually, the kiss slowed, the initial fervor simmering into something softer, sweeter. Rafe broke away, his breath shaky. His eyes held yours captive, and a flush crept onto his face. His fingers traced a path down your cheek, before he finally stepped back.

"We can do this two ways," Rafe murmured over the steady patter of rain on the truck's roof. Pure mischief danced in his eyes as he stated, "I can drag you kicking and screaming and trust me, I’ll enjoy every minute of it, or you can walk and get in on your own. But either way - you're getting in the truck. Your call."

Wordlessly, you pivoted and moved towards the truck, your boots crunching against the rain-dampened gravel.

"That's what I thought," Rafe replied, a victorious grin splitting his rain-speckled face as he caught your fleeting glare. Unruffled, he stretched out his hand, popping open the weather-beaten door with a familiar creak lost in the drumming rain. His hand was warm and steady as he helped you up into the seat, the fabric of your clothes already beginning to stick to the leather.

In one fluid movement, Rafe navigated around the truck, momentarily swallowed by the spray of the falling rain before reappearing on the driver's side. With a clunk, the door closed behind him, sealing out the chill and sound of the heavy rain. His wrist flicked, the ignition turning over and the engine’s steady rumble intertwining with the rhythmic tapping of raindrops on the roof.

Leaning over the seat, Rafe's momentarily searched around the back. When he reappeared, he held a well-used, grey fleece jacket, its fabric softened by countless washes.

"Here," he offered, his voice barely louder than the muted patter of the rain against the windows. He extended it towards you, his fingers brushing against yours in exchange.

"Thank you," you replied, accepting the jacket. The fleece was surprisingly warm, a welcome contrast to the chill spreading through your rain-soaked clothes.

Rafe maneuvered the truck through the storm your house barely discernible in the relentless deluge. He parked close to your porch, an unspoken gesture to spare you from the worst of the rain. When he switched off the engine, the absence of its rumble made the cab feel suddenly small. The silence that enveloped you both was thick, charged with unsaid words and emotions neither of you didn't know how to share.

Rafe turned to face you, the dim glow from the dashboard lights casting a soft luminescence on his features. Rain droplets traced shimmering paths down his face, catching on his eyelashes and hanging at the tips. His gaze held yours, searching, longing, a question lingering in his eyes.

Swallowing hard, you broke the silence. "Want to come in?" The words hung in the air, tender and tentative. "Maybe dry off a little before hitting the road?"

"Make yourself at home" you said.

With a click, you turned on the side lamp, illuminating the cozy sitting room in a warm glow. You excused yourself, leaving Rafe momentarily to fetch some things for him. From the hallway closet, you grabbed a clean towel, and after a brief rummage through your dad's wardrobe, you found a red plaid shirt that might fit him. Deciding to change yourself, you quickly slipped into a comfortable, loose faded shirt and denim shorts.

Upon your return, you found Rafe intently examining the family photos that adorned your walls. The captured moments were a mix of joyful events and everyday life: you proudly holding up your first caught fish, a close-up with you and a school friend age seven with your front teeth missing, an affectionate snapshot of your parents in a tender embrace, and a cherished image of baby you, seated on your dad's lap at the piano. Each photo was a silent testament to days that were simpler, happier.

Rafe, towering in your small living room, shifted his gaze to the old piano settled in one corner. The instrument, though aged, held a simple grace.

“It’s not as grand as the one at your place,” you remarked gently, catching his attention. As his gaze shifted to you, there was a perceptible pause as his eyes traveled down to your legs and then resettled on your face.

"But it still has its charm, right?"

“I guess,” you shrugged, closing the distance between you two and handing him the towel and shirt.

Your fingers brushed with the exchange, sending a thrill through you. With a grateful nod, Rafe dried his head and face. He began to unbutton his shirt, pulling the wet fabric from his slacks, peeling it off his body. As he revealed inch after inch of lean muscle and beautifully tanned, unmarked skin, you couldn't help but admire the flawless appearance—a testament to his privileged Kook life.

“Can't take your eyes off, can you? Want a guided tour?” He teased.

“Dream on, Cameron,” you shot back, attempting to sound casual, but the playful glint in his eyes suggested he knew exactly the effect he was having on you. The sound of his confident chuckle filled the room with warmth.

“How long have you had it?” he inquired, head tilting towards the piano.

“You mean Betsy?”

Rafe smiled “It has a name?”

“Of course. We've had her as long as I can remember. My dad got her before I was born. She’s older than I am,” you confessed with a fond smile.

"Go on, play for me," Rafe murmured, the timbre of his voice making it feel less like a request and more like an intimate invite.

The memory of the last time you played for him, and what had ensued, made you take a deep breath. But you shook off the feeling, reminding yourself that your bench was, luckily, a one-seater. "I'll play," you said with a small smile, "but you've got to promise to behave."

Rafe chuckled, leaning back on the couch, wearing your dad's shirt but leaving it unbuttoned. His smirk was wicked and teasing, the very embodiment of temptation itself. "No promises."

Rolling your eyes. You took a seat on the bench and began to play, allowing the music to flow through your fingers. Each note resonated with the room, reflecting the myriad emotions swirling within you. The gentle glow of the room's lighting seemed to dance in tune with the melody, casting warm and shifting shadows. The scent of the rain outside mingled with the familiar smells of your home, creating an atmosphere of nostalgia and present moments intertwining. As the final note lingered in the air, caressing the silence that followed, you turned to find Rafe's gaze fixed intently on you. His eyes, laden with intensity and yearning.

“Come here,” he said softly, his voice filled with something deeper, something unspoken. He leaned back against the sofa, extending his hand to you.

With a deep breath, and a flutter in your chest, you walked towards him, finally straddling him, feeling the warmth and strength of him beneath you, knowing that this moment was a milestone, a turning point in whatever it was that was unfolding between you two.

Rafe's fingers delicately trailed along your thighs, taking in every curve and contour. He lingered for a moment on a mole on your left leg, brushing his thumb over its slightly elevated surface. Every touch ignited a fire on your skin, an intimate dance of warmth and desire. As his hands continued their exploration, they ascended up your sides and Rafe sat up.

Suddenly his hands wrapped around your neck, tipping your head back with a possessiveness that made you gasp. The raw strength in his grip was undeniable; he held the power to hurt you. But somewhere deep down, amidst the swirling mix of emotions, you felt an unwavering trust that he wouldn't.

With your head tilted back, you found yourself drowning in Rafe's gaze. He examined your features, delicately turning your face this way and that, softly illuminated by the nearby lamp. Every aspect of your countenance seemed to fascinate him, but it was his own features — the small scar above his right eyebrow, the striking high cheekbones, thick lashes, and those mesmerizing blue eyes — that captivated you in return. When those very eyes briefly lingered on your lips, and his thumb gently brushed against them a sharp inhale caught in your throat.

"So fuckin' pretty," Rafe breathed, the weight of his words heavy in the brief silence that followed. Then, with an urgency that stole your breath away, he captured your lips with his. His kiss was both tender and powerful, a dance of tongues and unspoken passion.

His hands moved from your neck, sliding beneath your shirt finally touching bare skin to wrap around you. The world seemed to tilt as he expertly turned, positioning you beneath him without breaking the kiss.

Rafe's fingers found the buttons of your shirt. Each one he undid was like unwrapping a gift, each sliver of exposed skin driving him further into a fervor kissing you deeper until he pulled away from your lips altogether to look down and savour your breasts.

“I knew it…” he whispered “You’re gorgeous...” and wasted no time in swirling his tongue around your pert nipple before sucking it into his mouth. His other hand kneading the tender flesh of your other breast oh so softly.

Rafe's touch sent waves of electricity coursing through your body, each sensation igniting the desire between your thighs. With every gentle tug, every teasing bite, you surrendered to your longing, your moans a symphony of need. While dampness formed at your core, evidence of your escalating arousal.

Leaving your nipple, his lips sought your cheek, his fingers deftly finding the button of your shorts, effortlessly undoing it. "I couldn't stop thinking about the way you squirted for me." he smiled, his voice a soft murmur in your ear.

"Ugh- Rafe, don't-" You couldn't help but groan, your hands instinctively covering your face in a mix of bashfulness and embarrassment.

"Come on, babe don't hide from me now," he urged, gently moving your hands away from your face. His unwavering gaze bore into you, with a magnetic intensity that held you captive. "It was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen," he continued, his words wrapping around you like a sensual embrace. You responded with a mix of eye-rolling and a self-conscious laugh, but Rafe's touch on your jaw stilled your reaction.

"I'm serious," he insisted, his eyes locked onto yours. "Watching you moan for me all desperate and sweet. Feeling your pretty little pussy swallow my fingers... and then knowing I made you feel so fucking good you couldn't help but squirt…” Rafe groaned, his eyes rolling back at the memory “Baby, I jerked off to the thought so many times I'm surprised my dick hasn't fallen off." he chuckled. "All I could think about these last few weeks was watching you cum. I wanna watch you cum." Rafe's words were a soft murmur, his unwavering gaze locked onto yours.

Adjusting his position slightly, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your jeans shorts, a deliberate slowness in his movements as he eased them down your body. His breath quickened, his eyes devouring the sight of you in your white panties, damp with the evidence of your arousal.

Moistening his lips, he carefully tugged down your panties, guiding your legs free from their confines. He stared at your pussy taking his fill.

"Pretty as a picture," he whispered. Settling in beside you, he rested his head on his palm, his gaze fixed upon you. "I want to watch you cum, but this time..." Rafe tenderly parted your legs, cradling your knees and exposing you fully to the room's golden light. "This time, I want to see everything," he murmured.

His fingers traced the contours of your mound, the subtle hills and valleys of your skin. A light dusting of pubic hair added to the texture he was exploring. There, at your slit, a glistening collection of your arousal had formed. With a gentle touch, he collected a bead of it on his fingertip, his eyes locked onto your face. Bringing his finger to his lips, he sensually tasted you, an intense hunger gleaming in his gaze.

"I’ll need to eat this pussy too..." he murmured, nodding as if confirming an important task on his list of things to do. "But let's take it one step at a time, yeah? Don't want you running away from me anytime soon." His words held a trace of humor, a playful acknowledgment of the strained heated desires between you two. You were about to chastise him but his lips captured yours in a hungry kiss. While your mouths entwined, Rafe's finger moved back to your clit, his gentle movements coaxing a moan from your lips.

Just as you were sinking into his heavenly touch, Rafe broke the kiss and gently pulled his finger away from your clit. The absence of his touch almost prompted a whine from you, but Rafe quickly quieted you with a gentle shush. With a practiced finesse that revealed a glimpse of his dexterity, he employed his teeth to deftly remove the signet ring that encircled his finger. The ring glided off smoothly, lingering briefly within his mouth before finding its place in his pants pocket. His voice, laced with desire, broke the silence in a husky murmur, "Can’t go deep with a ring in the way, can we?” With deliberate intent, he returned his two fingers between your folds and wormed them inside you.

"Oh god, oh shit-" The fabric of Rafe's (or rather, your dad’s) shirt twisted beneath the force of your grip, your fingers curling and clenching as a flood of both pleasure and pain surged through your core. He was not lying when he said he was going to go deep.

Admitting comfort at this moment wouldn't be honest, not with the way his fingers were delving inside you, pushing against your tight channel. The fine line between discomfort and pleasure was being treaded, a line that teased just on the cusp of crossing into one or the other. Strangely, there was an undeniable allure in feeling so exquisitely full and it dawned on you that even with the mingling pain you liked being full.

With a mix of awe and submission, you embraced the realization that this was indeed what your body was designed for—an intricate dance of taking and being taken. The recognition of your body's innate capacity to accept him, to welcome him so completely, was a mesmerizing revelation that you couldn't help but marvel at.

As your gaze drifted downward, you couldn't help but raise an intrigued eyebrow at the sight that greeted you. His long, skillful fingers moved sinfully, withdrawing and reentering, each motion leaving them glistening with the evidence of your arousal. The sight and sound was hypnotic, and as a drawn-out moan escaped your lips, you couldn't help but notice Rafe's gaze following suit, his own reaction mirrored in the form of a needy groan.

"God, look at you. Taking it all the way to my palm... making a pretty mess." he quipped, his voice trembling with desire as a shaky chuckle escaped him. "Does it hurt?"

You gasped in response, the honesty ringing true in your voice, "A little."

A low, almost guttural groan escaped Rafe's lips, his tongue darting out to moisten his suddenly dry lips. "Yeah, but you like it, don't you? That slight twinge of pain. Hurts good, doesn't it?"

A slow, almost reverent nod escaped you as your eyes rolled backward, caught in the riptide of sensation. Your hand joined Rafe's at his wrist, a desperate yearning to connect more deeply with the source of your pleasure and the exquisite ache that accompanied it. You craved the sensation of his every stroke, each movement a testament to his mastery over your desire. Your hips began to sway, an instinctual response, seeking more friction, a little extra pressure to tip the scale just a bit further into pleasure. When you started to pluck and gently pull on your nipple you had finally reached it.

"Shit. That's it. Take what you need, baby.” He whispered. His tongue made its way back to your other nipple sucking on the tender flesh while he stared up at you. His gentle tongue swirling and firm hard fingers relentlessly drilling and your own hand gently plucking had you seeing stars and then some. You could feel his cock, thick and stiff brushing against your side as he rutted slowly against you seeking friction and for the first time you began to whine in sheer desperation, wishing he had fucked you with his cock instead.

"Use your words, baby," Rafe's voice held an almost teasing quality. "I want to know how good it feels—for next time when you accuse me of forcing you..."

You should have been mad, outraged even, by his audacity. But there was a magnetic pull in his words, a spell that rendered your protests powerless against the tide of pleasure that had you firmly in its grasp. The chorus of moans that spilled from your lips was a testament to your surrender "Don't stop- feels so good. Oh god, ‘m close. So close. Please Rafe-- please.. please... please.." Your words quivered with a mixture of urgency and need, punctuated by the ragged rhythm of your breath as your body shook.

As if on cue, Rafe applied a cork-screw motion, his fingers expertly stroking your G-spot with fervor. Your orgasm surged forth, violent and all-consuming. Waves of ecstacy coursed through your body, compelling your abdomen to convulse, and your leg to kick, a response to Rafe speeding up his efforts, fingers plunging deep while his thumb orchestrated rapid blissful circles on your clit.

"OH, FUCK-- OH RAFE!!!" Your voice filled the room as you were swept away in the throes of your orgasm. You couldn’t help but soak his fingers, and like a breached dam, overflowing and cascading, so too did your juices overflow as it trickled down to the cleft of your ass.

"Fuck—" Rafe hissed, his voice strained. "Ah, shit!" he sneered through clenched teeth. Overwhelmed at the sight, feel and sound of you screaming his name, his hips involuntarily jerked as he came. An untouched release that left him gasping for breath. His moans blended with yours, a beautiful song of shared pleasure that only ended when he leaned in for a messy kiss.

His gaze never wavered; it feasted on every second of your reaction and revelled in the glorious aftermath. You were glowing, skin flushed and alive from the intensity of your climax. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, sweat glistening off of your exposed breasts. Legs still spread, revealing the slippery mess with his fingers buried deep in you.

If you weren't so strung out from your orgasm, the opportunity to catch a glimpse of something more in his expression might have presented itself. A fleeting flicker of his unwavering fixation taking root, a mere hint of the deeper obsession he harbored for you. But instead your eyes closed, your lips forming a satisfied, lopsided grin. You couldn’t think. In fact, you couldn't care about anything at all.

Feedback is always appreciated. Lots of love until next time and thanks for reading.

UPDATES - PART 3 / MASTERLIST

[reve-writes]

—all in; leon kennedy.

ʚ leon kennedy x reader | resident evil | 1,3k words. ʚ he reassures you when your insecurity comes up following your recent encounter with ada wong. ʚ misunderstanding trope; slight angst, but happy ending; kissing; profanity. ʚ a/n i love ada wong but i've just been reading too many angst about jealous!reader i needed something happier.

It has become a routine at this point.

The two of you come home after a mission, battered and bruised and a little worse for wear. All sweat and dirt and grime from the past week. It's supposed to be all smiles. You're supposed to be slipping into the shower together, rubbing all the traces of the terror from each other's skin and settling into the softness of your comforter in your shared bedroom.

Supposed to.

Of fucking course, it isn't.

You've been quiet. Leon isn't stupid. He knows that you've withdrawn into yourself, lost in your own head and you're now ticking like a time bomb, ready to explode from whatever conclusion you've come up with. He's preparing for it, bracing for the impact.

It never comes.

You drop your bag near the couch of your living room and then you're slinking into the shower. Within seconds, he hears it running. You still haven't said a word.

He sighs, settling into one of the four chairs at your dinner table. He has already grabbed a drink, an expensive bottle with a shot glass. It's unbearable—the anticipation, knowing that there's an upcoming disaster, waiting for it, but it doesn't come.

You're trying not to think, but in the confines of your shower walls, the white-marbled tiles do little to distract you as your head pounds, running back the interactions you had with her.

Bobbed black hair. Red body-tight dress. Red smear of her lipstick on his cheek—he pulled away, yes, but the smudge is still there even when you landed. The smell of her perfume. Hell, you swear you can even still hear the click of her heels.

So many years into your relationship, you think you're over this. You think you won't be so hung up over a phantom of your past anymore, but whenever she shows up as she pleases, it's as if the domesticity you've built with Leon crumbles before your very eyes.

Maybe this would be easier if you know she's indifferent towards him. Maybe it makes you a bad person to hope for such a thing. It would be so much better if he's the only one who feels anything, but you know it's the furthest thing from the truth.

You leave the shower, the heat from the hot water is getting into your head.

“Are you done?” His voice startles you as you're towelling off your hair, trying to get into your shared bedroom. You need to think, but thinking is the only thing you've been doing since that fateful run-in. You need to talk, but you don't think you're ready for that conversation.

“Mhm. You can have the shower,” you reply, trying to sound as nonchalant as you can. It's probably the longest sentence you've said to him recently.

He throws back another shot. “I'm not talking about the shower.”

“So?” It's a curt reply. Short. Not at all close to the storm brewing inside of you.

“Baby.” The sound comes out as a half-whine. “Let's talk.”

“We don't — We have nothing to talk about.”

“Don't do that,” he presses again. “Talk to me. Come on.”

“I am talking to you, Leon.” You sigh out. You've never wanted to bolt into your bedroom faster, but you can't run from this forever. So, instead, you clench your fists, approaching the dinner table. As he's holding his glass, about to down another, you grab it from him. He lets you, watches you as you pour the liquid down your throat.

“What's on your mind?” He grabs the glass from you, pouring another for himself.

“Oh, I don't know, handsome. Maybe you can enlighten me.”

In any other situation, he wouldn't have been able to hold a grin blooming on his face at the nickname, but you're so obviously mocking him. Your tone and inflections shift to imitate hers.

Ada Wong.

“We've been over this before.”

“And yet every time she shows up, we're back where we started. Again.”

“We're not,” he protests. “You like to circle back to the same old argument. I'm over it.”

“Sure, you are. That's why you keep letting her take whatever she wants and leave.” You can practically taste the bitterness on the roof of your mouth. “If you don't look so — if you don't look like you're so ready to drop everything for her everytime she shows up, maybe we won't have to keep having this conversation.”

His eyebrows scrunch together and he puts his shot glass down on the table with a clang. “That's not true. What are you implying?”

“I'm saying that I'm not sure if I walk out right now, you'll chase after me. I'm not sure you won't end up looking for her instead.”

He frowns. A flash of hurt falls over his face. You've gone too far, but you want to. You want this to hurt. You're tired of constantly being the one he settles for.

“Is that what take me for?” He snarls. “You think I'd just go around, begging her to let me on her bed? Even after all these years of—” he swallows harshly. “—of us.”

“Won't you?”

His hand falls on the table with a harsh, cracking sound. It jolts you. Even as he's visibly seething, he doesn't yell. “You're so fucking cruel.”

“What am I supposed to think, then, Leon?”

“That I love you.”

“But do you love her, too?”

“No!” His reply comes quick, with conviction—the type of conviction that devout preachers have and you know then that you're being unfair. “I don't.”

You bite the inside of your cheeks. It feels silly. After all these years, it still doesn't take much to ruffle your feathers when it comes to her. He reaches for your hand, squeezing once, twice.

“I don't know about you,” he says, “but I'm all in on this, ___. On us. Don't ever doubt that.”

Leon pushes his chair backwards, making space for you to step in between his legs. He pulls you towards him, arms wrapping around your waist. You let him, even as you know he's getting all the dirt and grime you've washed away back onto you.

“She's someone from my past. We'll keep bumping into her on missions. I can't help that.” When he speaks, you feel his voice reverberating in your chest. “I need you to know that she's not you and she will never be you. She's not even an option. There's only you, okay?”

You nod, tangling your hand in his hair. The strands used to be lighter, sun-kissed, but with age it has taken on a darker shade. Almost black.

“Okay,” you say. You pull back slightly, brushing the hair out of his face and your eyes fall to the red smudge on his cheek. Another reminder of her. As you craddle his face, you run your thumb over the smudge, rubbing it—removing the traces of her.

He leans into your touch. “And I don't 'look so ready to drop everything for her' because I'm not. That version of me doesn't exist anymore.”

You nod again. “I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

He frowns. “Say it back. We're not in a Star Wars movie.”

That draws a chuckle out of you. You tilt his chin up as you bend forward. The tip of your noses touching.

“I love you.”

You kiss him. His body reacts almost immediately, his hand finding its way up your arm to the back of your neck. The other squeezes the skin of your hips. He pulls on your thigh, coaxing you to sit on his lap. Your hands tangle through his hair. He humms into your mouth when you tug. He draws back slightly, you feel his racing breath on your face.

“I think you're going to have to shower again.” His nose nuzzles your ear, trailing down your jaw as his lips press brief kisses down the column of your neck. “With me, preferably.”

[ ]

not me writing kissing scenes as if im not touch-starved. this is a short one. i stayed up so late reading angst on ao3 and they're all along the lines of being the second choice to ada wong. i needed something to wash away the angst. very self-indulgent piece. i also slipped in the han solo/leia star wars reference. thank you for reading!

[navybrat817]

I need Bucky to use me. 😭🥺

Let's imagine, shall we?

As He Sees Fit

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: Over 600 words

Warnings: Talk of free use, vaginal and oral sex. Nonsense written on my phone.

Bucky has been holding back. He knows he has. Whether it's because of his strength thanks to the serum or the pent-up aggression he feels after not being in control of his body for so long, he's liable to snap. And you're the last person he wants to hurt.

But he'd be lying if he said he hasn't thought about it. Bending you over the nearest surface and shoving himself into your deliciously wet heat. He won't give you the chance to steady yourself. He'll position you the way he needs and pull you back on his cock as you chant his name for anyone nearby to hear. Maybe you don't need to wear underwear anymore. Just let slide home when he needs it.

He also imagines putting you on your knees at his leisure and fucking your throat until you nearly choke on him. Oh, how wrecked you'll look with tears streaming down your cheeks, drool seeping from the corners of your mouth as you try to keep up with his pace. You'll rub your thighs together to get some friction, but he won't let you get off until he finishes.

Down your throat or on your face, you'll be such a pretty mess either way.

Still, he holds back, his shackles raised as he kisses you. He loves you more than he can ever imagine loving anyone else. It's why he wants to take care of you. It's also why he wants to ruin you so thoroughly, destroy your holes with his cock and flood your insides so he can own you.

Is it wrong to want that when it feels so right?

"Quit being so careful with me, Bucky. Seriously," you tell him when you pull your mouth away to breathe, as if you knew exactly what he was thinking. "Fuck me the way you need to."

He growls as he grabs your hips, trying to stop you from getting closer. His cock is painfully hard with the need to feel you around him. One of your holes. Any of your holes. "You make it sound so easy, but you don't know what you're asking for."

An angelic laugh bubbles up, but there's a hint of darkness in your eyes. "I'm not asking. I'm telling you. I won't break."

"Maybe I wanna break you. Control you. Use you as my cockslut whenever I want," he says through his teeth, the restraint inside unraveling with each passing second. "But you-"

"If you thought I couldn't handle you or that I didn't want that, you never would've started fucking me in the first place," you argue, peppering soft kisses along his jaw as he exhales. "So control me. fuck me. Use. Me. Please?"

You know he's a ticking time bomb, ready to explode. Why should he deny himself what he wants when you're asking for it? When you're telling him to fuck you selfishly?

His restraint snaps.

"I want you to remember how much I love since I'm about to fuck you like I don't," he warns, smirking when he flips you on your stomach, your hands scrambling to hold onto something as he tears the remainder of your clothes away. "And you'll thank me after I ruin your holes."

He'll thank you, too.

It's almost brutal how hard he slams into you, but your moan of ecstasy only spurs him on. It's what you both need, for him to unleash all of himself and you to take it. He'll keep an eye out for your signal if it's too much, of course.

But for now, he's going to use you as he sees fit.

Love and thanks! ❤️

[iovetecchou]

Hanging On By A Thread ⧸ Bram Stoker.𖥔 ݁ ˖

༞ Contains...! smut and partial fluff, blushy!bram, hypersensitive!bram, heavy petting, consent! handjob, fingering, unprotected sex, (please don't do this irl, this is simply fiction!), praise, begging, breeding kink, creampie, lots and lots of cum (mans has been pent up for centuries!)

Bram uses "mo chroí" as a term of endearment for the reader, which essentially translates to "my heart"

༞ AFAB Reader.

༞ 1,911 words.

kinktober masterlist!

Bram was confused, to say the least, the first time you told him you were going to take a bath.

"A bath? But, Aya told me baths are a formality taken by kings nowadays." No, she didn't, he has it all twisted...

He tilted his head in confusion as you began giggling from his unfamiliarity before enlightening him.

Once it clicked, his eyebrows darted up, eyes blown wide before he slowly asked, "Would you be so gracious as to bathe me, mo chroí? Perhaps, you could... join me? Only if you desire, of course."

Your heart damn near exploded at his request.

You made sure to make Bram's first bath experience as enjoyable as you could. Filling the tub with bubbles— making sure washcloths, soap, and a rinsing cup were in proximity.

After helping Bram strip off the articles of clothing he adorned, you ushered him into the tub. Bram like the gentleman he is, sealed his eyes shut as you undressed. Only drawing them back open when he felt you sink in beside him.

"Is the water warm enough for you, Bram?" You reached for the soap and a washcloth. Pouring a small amount of the body wash onto the towel before bringing it up to Bram's exposed chest. 

"Yes... this is quite pleasant." Bram averted his gaze, a blush adorning his pale cheeks as you washed his upper body. Your touch was gentle; pure. But his bodily reactions were far from that. You lathered his collarbones, then his chest— Bram took in a shaky breath as the cloth swiped over his nipples, before your hand trailed lower. Ducking underneath the bubbly water, beyond Bram's— and your vision. 

You hummed to yourself as you continued to wash him. Failing to realize that Bram was growing hard as the seconds ticked by. Your gaze flickered up to his face as you felt his body twitch underneath your touch. "Love, is something wrong?"

Your eyebrows knit together in concern as you awaited his response. Your hand stilled against his lean torso, allowing your palm to rest atop his limber thigh. This caused Bram to jolt even worse than before as he refused to meet your gaze. 

"Mo chroí... I apologize. It seems I have become aroused— sexually. I am ashamed to admit it, but ever since my entire body was restored... It's been hard to suppress these desires when you touch me."

You felt heat swirl in your core from his words, resisting the urge to rub your thighs together from beneath the water. However, curiosity got the best of you. Your hand, which still rested on Bram's thigh began to wander. You gasped when your fingers grazed over his length. He was painfully hard, you noted, as your hands mapped out the stretch of his shaft. 

You watched his face scrunch up in pleasure as you felt his cock twitch beneath your featherlight touches. "You don't need to apologize, my love. You should have told me sooner! I would have gladly helped you with... this." Your nimble digits wrapped around his achey length, accentuating your words. 

Bram's eyes flickered shut, taking a sharp breath through his nostrils from the electrifying touch. Each time Bram got hard since that bothersome sword was removed and his body was restored, he refused to tend to his needs. Feeling all too shameful for having such impure thoughts about you. But receiving even the tiniest morsel of pleasure, not to mention that it was coming from the subject of his desires, was pleasantly overwhelming. 

"As long as you don't mi-mind, mo chroí. I would be honored to receive your assistance in this little p-problem." Bram croaked as you experimentally rubbed your thumb over his tip. "I would hardly call this a small problem." You muttered, more so to yourself, as you slowly began moving your hand in a steady rhythm. 

Your eyes were glued to Bram's ethereal visage. Reveling in the way his eyes roll back in pleasure as deep groans slip past his lips the more you continue to stroke his cock. He was twitching and throbbing wildly beneath your grasp. You tried to swat the bubbles away with your free hand; in hopes of seeing his lengh for yourself. 

"You're so g-good at this... mo chroí. I long for more, please." Your eyes met his as Bram peeled them open. His crimson orbs pooled with lust, half-lidded and hungry for more. Your movements around his length stilled as you asked, "Could you lift your hand up for me, my love?" 

Without hesitation, he did just that. Bringing his hand up to your view and tilting his head in confusion as he deadpanned, "What's the meaning of this?" You examined his elegant fingers, a sight that was still relatively new to you. You sighed as your gaze fixated on his pointed black fingernails. "Yeah... that's not happening..." You muttered to yourself, causing Bram's confusion to skyrocket. 

"It's just... it's nothing! I'll give you more, my love, I promise. Could you be patient for me?" You beamed up at him, bringing your free hand up to caress his scarred cheek. Tucking an unruly slate piece of hair behind his pointed ear. Your other hand, that was still clamped around Bram's cock eased up. You opted for slipping your fingers between your legs instead. 

"With pleasure, mo chroí. I'd wait an eternity for you." Your heart thumbed at his comforting words, causing your smile to brighten as you toyed with your entrance. Slowly, you slipped a finger into your awaiting heat. Bram watched you intently as your face began to soften, your eyebrows relaxed; jaw falling slack as you added a second finger. "What are you doing?" Bram questioned, allowing his hand to explore underneath the water. His breath hitched as he realized what exactly you were up to. 

"So this is why you requested to observe my hands?" You wordlessly nodded yes as you continued to stretch yourself out to accomidate his length. All Bram could do was watch in fascination, bringing his hands down to grasp your waist from beneath the soapy water. This went on for a few beats before you muttered, "O-Okay... I think that's enough."

Before Bram could question you further, you were on him. Slotting yourself atop his lap, thighs straddling his as you reached down for his needy cock. His grip on your waist tightened as you spoke up. "I'm gonna put it in now, yeah?" Bram's eyes widened as he felt you seize his length once more, letting out a hiss as you rubbed his ruddy head through your slick folds. 

"Please... I beg of you, mo chroí— I need to be one with you." With that, you lined his cock up to your heat; reveling in the whine that slipped past your lover's lips as the tip of his length pushed past the tight ring of your pussy. You brought both hands up to his shoulders, bracing yourself as you took him; inch by inch. 

"Feels better than I envisioned, ah— y-you are perfection." Bram's grip on your waist tightened as you took him to the hilt. You let little whines slip past your lips as you felt him throb inside you, clenching and unclenching around his long cock as you adjusted to the fullness. "Fuck, Bram— you're so b-big!" You cried out, scoring your bottom lip with your teeth. 

"I apologize, mo chroí. The last thing I want is to bring you any discomfort." Bram blushed profusely, averting his gaze from you once more. A small chuckle coming from your lips pulled him out of his stupor as you deadpanned, "Bram, my love, that's a good— hah... g-good thing! You feel so fucking amazing..." You smirked up at him as you felt him twitch inside you from your words. 

"Oh, I see... Wait- what are you—" Bram managed to croak out before you lifted your hips, ramming yourself back down on his cock. Bram let out a breathy whine as you repeated this action over and over and over again. You rode his cock like your life depended on it, drinking in the sounds he emitted. Bram could not take his eyes off you; he was mesmerized. Tuning out the sound of water as it sloshed out of the bathtub, only focusing on you— and you alone. 

"So tight and warm... incredible..." He whispered before capturing your lips with his. Bram kissed you with great force, swirling his tongue along yours. You whined against his mouth as Bram began to lift his hips, sloppily meeting your thrusts. Your eyes rolled back the moment he began fucking up into you. The tip of his cock prodded your sweet spot perfectly each time he plunged deeper. 

You could feel the coil within your tummy unravel the more Bram unrelentingly fucked up into you. You were close, and by the way his cock pulsed from deep inside, you knew he wasn't far behind. You pulled away from his lips with a string of saliva still connecting you. "Bram... I'm close— cum with me, please? W-Want you to fill me up..." 

Bram felt like he was spinning when you uttered those words. "It would be my pleasure, mo chroí. I thought about this moment— hah, countlessly. Filling you with my seed... having you bear my children— Christ!" The recounting of his thoughts and the feeling of you suffocating his cock, proved to be too much for the demon king. He came inside you without another word. Letting out a cry of your name as he buried himself to the hilt, emptying his load inside your fluttering heat. 

"Bram— ah, c-cumming!" You cried out. The feeling of him cumming inside you, paired with his sharp nails digging into your sides, pushed you over the edge. You gushed around his cock, eyes widening as you still felt Bram's seed filling you up. His balls twitched from where they kissed the underside of your pussy. There was so much, you hardly expected him to be carrying such a heavy load. 

"S-So full!" You gasped, reeling from the aftershocks of your orgasm as Bram finally finished emptying his cum deep inside your cunt. He groaned as he pulled his hips back down, allowing himself to relax. Suddenly feeling all too aware of how cold the water had become. "Are you alright, mo chroí?" Bram whispered, bringing his hand up to soothe over your face. You leaned into his touch, allowing your eyes to flutter shut.

"More than alright! You must have been really pent-up, huh? It's probably been centuries since you last—" Bram silenced you with a chaste kiss before you could say anything more. Your hands draped around his slender throat, carding through his slate locks as you sighed into the embrace. You only pulled away when your lungs began to scream for air. 

"You came so much... you surely got me pregnant, Bram!" You meant it to be playful, but when you felt him harden inside you again almost instantly; your eyes widened. "Don't... please, don't say such crass things, mo chroí. My self-control is hanging on by a thread." You watched as Bram's crimson eyes darkened, slate eyebrows knit in concentration as he tried to compose himself. 

"What if I want that thread to snap?" You challenged, grounding your hips down against his stiff cock. "But, before that... let's get out of this tub! I'm freezing!"

[diazsdimples]

bucktommy + "To be fair, that wasn't the stupidest thing I could've done"

"To be fair, that wasn't the stupidest thing I could've done," Buck pants as he leans against the cool, brick wall. He pulls off his helmet and runs his fingers through his hair, knowing he's likely smeared soot all over his face. The building is still smouldering behind them, but Eddie and Ravi both have the hoses directed towards the flames. It's under control. Tommy looks like he could explode. His boyfriend is usually very calm and level headed, perfect traits for a first responder, but right now he looks set to rip Buck's head off. "Wasn't the stupidest - you could have - Evan, are you fucking kidding me?" Eddie and Ravi's heads turn towards the outburst and Buck winces, not wanting their first proper fight as a couple to be on full display for all their coworkers to witness. He grabs Tommy's arm and pulls him around the side of the building, away from any flapping ears. "Tommy, it's okay, I'm fine. She's fine. We're fine," he reassures Tommy as he reaches into the pocket of his turnout and pulls out the reason behind his sudden expedition into a burning building without a second's thought. The kitten is tiny in his hands, her fur rumpled and soot smudges over the beautiful, white coat. When the little girl he and Tommy had pulled from the building had said her kitten was still stuck inside the inferno, Buck hadn't hesitated before sprinting back into the building, not even with Bobby, Tommy and Eddie all yelling at him. He just hadn't anticipated Tommy to follow him back in. "Yeah but you could have been not fine! I agreed to help this shift as a favour to Bobby, not so I could get a front row seat to my boyfriend burning alive!" Buck swallows thickly and transfers the kitten into one hand so he can reach out to cup Tommy's face with the other. Tommy doesn't meet his eye, instead looking resolutely behind Buck. His jaw ticks as Buck strokes along his cheekbone with his thumb. "Tommy, I-I'm not going to burn alive. I was just gonna get her and come right back," he explains. Tommy's got to understand, right? Buck's a professional, he'd never do anything to put himself in any real danger. If he thought he couldn't get to the kitten before the building collapsed or got too hot then he would never have set foot in it. Tommy finally meets Buck's eyes then, and Buck is alarmed to see that his eyes are swimming behind a film of tears. Fuck, he's really fucked up here hasn't he? "Tommy, I-" "I can't lose you, Evan," Tommy cuts in, circling a hand around Buck's wrist and lowering his hand from Tommy's jaw. "Not like that." Buck swallows again, and he must tighten his grip on the kitten because she lets out a pitiful meow, her tiny tongue rasping against his glove as she licks at him. "I'm sorry," he whispers, hanging his head as the gravity of the situation washes over him. Tommy thought he was going to lose Buck. Tommy thought Buck was going to die. "I didn't mean to scare you." Tommy curls his fingers under Buck's chin and lifts his head, forcing eye contact. "I know you didn't, I just - baby, you mean so much to me," Tommy says, his voice raw and choked with emotion as he searches Buck's face, his eyes drinking in every inch of Buck as if he's worried it's the last time he'll be able to see him again. "Please, please don't ever do that again." "I won't, Tommy, I swear I won't," Buck promises, and he leans forwards to kiss Tommy softly. Tommy responds instantly, wrapping his arm around Buck's waist and pulling him close. Their lips move in tandem with one another, Tommy running his tongue along the seam of Buck's lips until he opens, and Buck licking back in apology. "Hey," Buck says as they pull away, resting their foreheads together. "I love you." Tommy huffs out a small laugh and kisses Buck again, lighter this time but no less emotionally charged. "I love you too."

Send me a ship and a sentence and I'll finish it!

(once again tagging @theotherbuckley)

[winterlynightlystories]

Bad day.

Tw; Mentions of murder, grief and spoilers I guess. Mentioned top!male!reader

Please do not copy or steal my work.

Sano “Mikey” Manjirou/gang!member!Male!Reader

Summary; Mikey’s dark impulse almost comes out. Luckily for everyone, you are there to calm the beast.

~~~~~~

You sat behind Manjiro, watching the meeting over his shoulder. It was going nowhere. Your boyfriend and his captains were stuck in an endless cycle of yes, no, maybe. And Manjiro’s patience was running lower by the second. You could see it by how tensed his shoulders were and quiet he was.

Everyone could see how displeased Mikey was. Over his shoulder, you had a good sight on their expression; they were terrified. With good reason. Mikey could kill a man in a heartbeat if he wanted, with no warning or sign. Just like he could beat the poor fucker to a bloody mess for the littlest thing.

Apparently, Manjiro use to be different. Calmer, more in control of his Dark Impulse. Before the death of his sister, best friend and so many more. The last straw has been when a named Takemichi had left. You ignored why, Manjiro refused to speak about it. But sometimes, you would wake up to him calling for his friend while tears would roll down his cheeks.

You never said anything, thinking Mikey would talk when ready. The only thing you could do was offer your shoulder and cuddle him. Or fuck him until he forgot everything, but you.

Licking your lips, your gaze turned toward Mikey's neck. You could still see the love bite you left there last night surrounding his tattoo. You wished you could simply get up and give him more while giving his shoulders a good massage. Maybe get him to sit on your lap so you could kiss them instead. You knew he loved it when you two took a bath before going to bed.

You were kicked out of your fantasy when his whole demeanour switched. You saw all his muscles tensing in a second as he raised his head higher. The whole aura changed in the room, feeling as if the temperature dropped below freezing. Not literally, of course. But you did get chills running through your whole body.

You weren't the only one noticing the change. All the captains fell silent, all their colour draining off their faces and fear filled their eyes. What had been said, you ignored it, but one thing was sure; it has turned Mikey’s Dark Impulse on. And like a ticking bomb, it could explode at any second.

Sighing, you got up. All eyes, except Mikey’s, turned on you. Half we're hopeful, the rest scared for your well-being.

You walked behind Mikey and rested your hands on his shoulders. You felt them instantly relax under the contact. Bending over his right side, you kissed his temple.

- “Easy Mikey. You have good, competent captains, so don't go around blasting their brains on the walls okay?” you said, lips still pressed against his skin.

- “You weren't listening right, Y/n?” he asked, voice empty.

- “Sorry Mikey. I spaced out before the gorgeous view I had.” you smiled, knowing he might be blushing. “Might have been making plans for tonight too, for us. So please, no shooting, no beating. I know it's frustrating, but it won't change anything.” you added and Mikey said nothing, but you felt him relax completely. “Let’s take a pause, just an hour or two. Let the boys get some food and air, might help. What do you think?”

For only answer, Manjiro dismissed everyone with a simple waving of his hand. Without a word, they all left the room almost running. Chuckling, you grabbed a chair and sat by Manjiro’s side. His eyes were empty and dark, but there was no sign of his Dark Impulse. Taking his hand in your, you rubbed small circles on his skin.

- “Something is wrong, I can see it. What's going on love?” you asked, and when no answer came you asked another one; “What can I do?”

Mikey turned his eyes on you. For a second you thought he would remain quiet, but no.

- “Could you hold me? I'll like to listen to your heart.”

You simply opened your arms wildly, inviting him to do just that. You wrapped them around his little frame once Mikey was comfortable on your lap. Resting your chin on the top of his head, you closed your eyes.

- “You know I am here if you need to talk. Whatever is on your mind or heart, I will listen.” you said softly.

- “Just a bad day. Angry just...” he sighed and hid his face against your chest. “Today is Emma... It's...” you heard his voice crack and hugged him closer.

- “Hush, it's alright. Mikey, if you need to cry, then cry. Let it go, love, you have the right to. I'm sorry, I didn't know.”

Mikey gave no answer, but you felt his shoulders shake as he cried silently in your arms. You rarely saw your boyfriend cry. Sometimes after a nightmare, or coming out of his Dark Impulse after killing someone.

You also felt like an idiot.

You should have seen the signs.

When the Captains returned, they said nothing seeing their President sitting on your lap, your head resting on his shoulder as he played with your hair. And if Mikey’s hair looked wild or if he had a new set of love bites on his neck, and if you too had your share of them just now showing, they said nothing.

The tension had left the room, it was easier to breathe and focus. For the next hours, you listened to them deciding if they should start a war against a rival gang, and so on.

And for the rest of the meeting, Mikey’s Dark Impulse never made another appearance.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Kid Vaggie 4: Unsung Lullaby

Request for angst. Why angst? Why do people want to have their feelings hurt? Why? Also, this is LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG.

Charlie: (cradling Kid Vaggie in her arms as she carries the little angel to bed) Alright, sweetie. It's bedtime.

Kid Vaggie: (shakes her head violently and clings to Charlie's jacket lapels) No!

Charlie: Vaggie, it's bedtime. You need to get your sleep so you can grow up big and strong.

Kid Vaggie: (shakes slightly) No. Something bad is gonna happen.

Charlie: (pulls back the covers and sets Vaggie down gently) Sweetheart, nothing bad is going to happen to you here. This hotel is officially the safest place in Hell. Nothing, and I mean nnnnnothing- (boops Vaggie's nose)

Kid Vaggie: (giggles slightly and curls up under the blankets to get away from the onslaught)

Charlie: -Is going to get you.

Kid Vaggie: (snuggles in and yawns) Pwomise?

Charlie: (heart pulses painfully) I promise. (kisses Vaggie's forehead and heads to the door) Good night, Vaggie.

Kid Vaggie: Goodnight, Pwincess. (blushes and hides half of her face under the covers) . .. .. I wuv you...

Charlie: (clutches her chest and pinches her legs together as her ovaries throb like ticking time-bombs) I love you too, hun. (closes the door and walks down the hall while pulling at her hair) Note to self: As SOON as Vaggie is back to her normal self, get a spell from dad to make babies.

Kid Vaggie: (nestles in and falls asleep)

*-*-*zZzzzZz*-*-*zZzzzZz*-*-*

-Screams fill the air as the smell of burning tires, smoke, and blood course through the streets of Hell. Angelic Devils with grey and black wings soar through the skies and between buildings as they spray the blood of sinners across alleys and buildings.-

Kid Vaggie: (eyes snap open at the sound of a particularly blood curdling scream, and she looks around at the chaos)

Exorcist: (rips her spear out of Angel Dust's mouth and throat)

Kid Vaggie: Angle Bust!!!

Husker: (leaps forward with a tiger's roar and his claws extended)

Exorcist: (grabs Husker and uses her spear to skin him alive before completely ripping his spine out of his back)

Kid Vaggie: Husk!!! (looks around and sees the rest of the Hotel's occupants' corpses laying on the dead grass filled front lawn of the establishment)

Alastor: (sawed in half with his antlers ripped off)

Cherri: (exploded from the hips up)

Niffty: (pieces replaced with bug parts and scuttling across the ground from an angelic steel knife lodged in her spinal chord to keep her moving)

Lucifer: (tied by the ankles at the top of the hotel, his wings billowing limply in the breeze from being completely shattered like a flag)

Kid Vaggie: (crying and is about to puke when another scream fills the air. She looks and sees the Exorcist holding Charlie up by the throat) CHARWIE!!!!

Exorcist: (looks over to Vaggie and throws Charlie in the air)

Charlie: (gets skewered on the sharp nose of Dazzle's statue)

Exorcist: (to Kid Vaggie) ......Go. Run. (turns to look at the carnage) ........*sob*

Kid Vaggie: (suddenly sees the same spear the Exorcist has in her hands and scrambles to run away. Lungs are on fire as she sprints through the streets and down an alley) NO!!! NO!!!NONONO!!!

-Feathered Wing Flapping Fills the Alley-

Kid Vaggie: (turns around and sees the Exorcist, shakily bringing her own spear up as tears stream down her cheek)

Exorcist: (stands silently before taking off her mask, revealing Vaggie's older face) What did you do?

Kid Vaggie: (suddenly wearing Exorcist clothes) I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!!! YOU DID THAT!!! (scene shifts, and suddenly she's the one staring down a cannibal child cowering against the wall)

Cannibal Child: (crying) I didn't do anyhting wrong.... Please, don't kill me...

Kid/Vaggie: (lowers spear) Go. Run.

Cannibal Child: (sprints away)

Kid Vaggie: (looks down at her fully grown self in horror and suddenly feels excruciating pain in her left eye socket) AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Exorcist/Vaggie: You were weak. (grabs Kid Vaggie's wings and rips them off)

Kid Vaggie: (screams and cries before panting in pain and staring at her older double. The older woman is split in half down the middle to share the visage of a woman with short, white hair and blood smear everywhere)

Lute/Vaggie: You don't deserve Heaven. / (crying) You don't deserve Happiness.

Kid Vaggie: (world slowly fading to black as the Exorcist turns and leaves)

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Angel: (sees Charlie walk into the bar) Woooooof! Don't you look a special kinda way. I take it that Baby Fever ain't breakin' anytime soon?

Charlie: (pouts) Is it that obvious????

Angel: Please, Toots. (waves a hand in front of his nose) I can smell the ovulation process comin' off ya.

Lucifer: (sparkles in his eyes as he digs into his inner jacket pocket) Do you need the baby potion?!

Charlie: NOT YET!!! VAGGIE IS STILL A KID!!! (pauses) .....Wait, you just keep a bottle of that on hand?

Lucifer: .........Full transparency. I've been keeping it ever since you were with what's-his-nuts in case you needed it. What was his name? Fredrick's boy.

Charlie: (covers her mouth at the thought of carrying her ex-boyfriend's child) Dad, I never intended on having kids with Seviathan.

Lucifer: THANK THE STARS TOO!!!! Boy was a little fuckwit.

AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Charlie: (turns to the staircase and sprints up the stairs three-four at a time) VAGGIE???!?!?!

Hazbins: (all scramble out of their seats and sprint after Charlie)

Charlie: (bursts into her and Vaggie's room and sprints to the bed to hold the thrashing child tight) Vaggie, sweetie, what's wrong?!

Kid Vaggie: NO!!! NO!!! NO-NO-NO!!!! (stops thrashing as Charlie's scent fills her nose and stares up into worried eyes) Charwie?

Charlie: Yeah, sweetie, what happened? (pets Vaggie's hair, wincing at how badly the child is shaking)

Kid Vaggie: (breaks out into a new wave of tears and sobbing wails as she holds Charlie tight) Exowcists! *hic-hic* Evewyone gone! My fault!

Charlie: (holds Vaggie tighter) Shhhhhh! Shhh-shhhh-shhhh! It's okay, Vaggie. The Exorcists are gone. They're not here anymore. They can't hurt you or anyone else here. Nothing is your fault. (turns to the rest of the group motions for some help)

Hazbins: (all standing in the doorway slowly shuffle in to make a giant hug pile)

Angel: No one blames you for nothin', kid.

Husker: For a fierce little psycho, you've never hurt any of us. (massages the skin patches where Vaggie took out some clumps of fur) Not entirely.

Cherri: You're a great guardian angel for the Hotel, kiddo.

Niffty: You do such a good job helping me kill all the roaches in the basement!

Lucifer: (finishes off the hug pile by engulfing everyone in his wings) You're more angelic than any of those Exorcists, little dove. Nothing that happened is your fault.

Alastor: (watching silently from the doorway)

Charlie: (tears filling her eyes as she gently rocks Vaggie and sings a quiet lullaby)

Kid Vaggie: *sniff-sniff* (looks up at everyone around her and calms down, nestling into Charlie's chest and falling asleep) Wuv... you... guys.... ZzzzZzzZZz.....

Bonus:

Hazbins: (clutch their hearts simultaneously) Fuck....

Charlie: (still holding a sleeping Vaggie) Not so funny when it's you, is it?

Lucifer: Charlie, please tell me you want that potion as soon as she's back to normal. I need a little demon-angel grandbaby.

[lia1512]

Forgiving love

A forgotten date night

As the afternoon sunlight begins to dim, you sit in bed waiting patiently for your husband, Elijah Mickelson, to walk through the door. You have been eagerly anticipating this date night for months and cannot wait to finally be together again. However, as the minutes pass by and he is still not home, you begin to worry. 'Isn't he coming home tonight?' you think to yourself. The thought of him forgetting your special night out together fills you with anxiety and you begin to pace back and forth in the room.

As the clock ticks by and still no sign of him, you begin to wonder if he's forgotten about date night. You consider calling him, but you're afraid to bother him in case he is working. Finally, after another 15 minutes, you decide to send him a text message. That's when you notice it. A notification flashes up on your phone: a text message from Elijah.

The text reads: "I'm so sorry honey busy day. I'm on my way home now."

Your heart skips a beat when you read his text. For a split second, you feel furious and betrayed. It's not the first time that he's forgotten about your special date nights together, and you're fed up with being let down constantly. You can't believe that he would forget such an important night out, and you're angry at yourself for being so naive as to think he'd remember this time.

As you wait anxiously for his return, you feel like you're about to explode with rage. You start pacing back and forth across the room, trying to calm down and contain your emotions. The anger within you grows stronger as every second passes and he is still not home. You start to think of all the time and energy you've put into planning this date night and how it all went to waste because of Elijah's forgetfulness.

Finally, after what feels like ages, you hear the front door open and close behind him. You stand there nervously as he enters the room. He immediately spots you, and you see the shock and guilt spread across his face when he realizes what he's done. "Honey, I'm so sorry," he says immediately, walking quickly towards you. "I completely forgot about our date night."

You can feel the anger rising within you again, but before you can say anything, he presses a finger against your lips and holds your gaze. "Please, let me explain," he says earnestly. "I know I messed up, but I promise I'll make it up to you." The way he looks at you, so vulnerable and apologetic, makes you want to forgive him already.

You stay silent for a moment, trying to suppress your anger. But then gradually, you begin to soften. "You'd better make it up to me," you finally say after a few seconds of silence. "I put in so much effort for this date night, and you just forgot about it so easily."

He knows he needs to make it up to you somehow, and that includes more than just words. You watch as his hands reaching for your hips. He pulls you close to him, and you can feel his breath on your neck as he whispers, "I know how to make this up to you..."

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you feel the tension in the air between you two as he pulls you even closer. He slides his hands up and down your hips, leaving goosebumps everywhere they touch. You can feel the heat building up between you as his touches get more passionate. You lean into him, pressing yourself tight against him. He kisses your neck, and then slowly brings his mouth down to yours. It's one passionate kiss, and you can feel his love and affection for you.

As he pulls away, he whispers, "Let me show you..."