#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…

[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."

[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 a 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!"

[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

[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)

[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.

[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.

[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..."

[darling--angst]

Hii! congrats on 100 followers!! May I have Sports, (1), Ranpo, Romantic, maybe reader feels sad/lonely due to not exactly feeling as though she deserves ranpo's love so he confronts her about how she seems blue

Sports

Pairing: Ranpo x Civilian! Reader

Type: Oneshot

Genre: Fluff/Comfort

Warnings: kissing

Synopsis: The summer came and it was really stressful for the agency, things went on as usual but Ranpo felt that something was wrong with his lover, and he was right.

A/n: This idea is so cute! I really had fun writing this :)

Event // Ada. Masterlist // M.Masterlist

The hot summer breeze passed through the open windows of the agency and the complaints of the the members are all you can hear.

"Kunikidaa! Can you set the temperature a little lower?" Ranpo complained from his desk, a mini fan just beside his sweating face.

"I'm afraid not Ranpo-kun, we have to spend less since our budget is a little off because there aren't that many requests that have yet been completed" Kunikida continued typing on his laptop despite his hair being completely completely soaked with his sweat.

"Kunikida-kun!! I'm bored!" Dazai's muffled cries was heard from the lounge, his face planted on the couch. He ignored him but stopped when he heard Yosano step out of the infirmary with her machete on hand.

"Do you need something Yosano-sensei?" He asks slowly turning to face her.

"Does anyone want to go to the mall with me? I have to buy some supplies?"

"Maybe I could go with you, after finishing this document.. but may I ask why do you have your machete with you.?" He asked.

"Well before going I'd like to ask someone if they want treatment" She nonchalantly responded. Everyone except Ranpo and Dazai dropped cold sweat her words before ducking as she made a finger like motion on who to chose. Unfortunately for Kunikida, he was on his chair and he ducked last.

"Hmm... Oh! It seems like you really like my treatment Kunikida..." She smirked before walking towards him.

"Wait-! Yosano-sensei! I still have things to do in my schedule! Please!" He screamed as Yosano dragged him inside the infirmary. After that, everyone let out a sigh they have been holding, not minding his screams.

"hmm... I miss (name)-chan.." Ranpo muttered, his right cheek squashed on the table.

The day went on per usual. Kunikida was shining, with drool slipping past his lips as his chin laid on his desk after Yosano operated on him for 7 times. Dazai was slacking off in the couch, sweat pooling on the cushions. Naomi was clinging onto Tanizaki, their body heat and sweat mixing as she clung onto his side. Kenji and Atsushi were out on a mission about an exploding car. Ranpo was on his desk with his mini-fan and snacks, it was a normal day but he suddenly had a feeling that something is wrong, or that something will go wrong.

It was finally time for clock out. He watched as the clock slowly ticked each second until the bell rang. Grabbing his things, he walked passed Kunikida who was closing his laptop, and met Dazai just by the door, throwing in his coat.

"See you tomorrow everyone!" Dazai hummed before completely walking out the Agency. Ranpo didn't even say goodbye to them, he rushed out, only throwing in his hat, he left; earning confusion from many.

"Hmm.. something's wrong with Ranpo-kun.." Tanizaki stated.

"Maybe an emergency? Anyway let's get that cake from last time Jun'ichirō!" Naomi tossed herself into him, getting both of them out of balance. The other agency members didn't mind them and continued to leave with the same thought: "is Ranpo really okay? Did he and (name) argue?"

Ranpo walked on the sidewalk of Yokohama to his and his lover's shared apartment. His heads was filled with thoughts on what may be wrong, and before he knew it, he reached his destination. Opening the door, he stumbles on a table of untouched food, covered by a cloche. He muttered a small "I'm home" before he removed his shoes and hung his coat on the hanger, looking around, he saw no signs of you. He started to panic now, he was about to barge inside the bedroom until he heard your footsteps. You opened the door to see Ranpo with opened and wide eyes.

"Oh hey love welcome home" you tried your best to smile and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Yeah.." It was the only thing he said before he followed you to the dining area. He thought that he was too paranoid but he couldn't help but notice the smudged concealer below your eyes. He never said anything about it, afraid that his suspicious are true, hoping to have something prove him wrong.

The dinner was quiet. The only sounds are the utensils hitting the plate and the small buzzing of the florescent light hanging on the ceiling. You were now cleaning, as you picked up his plate to clean the dishes he stopped you.

"Is something wrong, dear?" He asked you but you only halted from your movements before continuing to put the plate on the sink.

"Yeah, of course! Why would I be not?" You faced him to try smile at him. He stood up and now you were looking at him straight in the eyes.

"You're not." He stated, his hand finding it's way to your cheek, caressing it. You leaned into his hand, feeling his warmth, and you unconsciously smiled before responding:

"I am." You let out a breathless sigh before you flinched as his thumb smudged the concealer beneath your eyes.

"What's this.?" He looked at his thumb and your eyes widened. He already knew the answer but he wanted to hear it from you.

"it's- it's nothing.!" You slapped his hand away but only then did you realize what you did.

"Your eyes are puffy.. now please tell me what really happened.." He reached for your cheek, wanting to convince you to tell him the truth.

"I... I'm sorry" you ignored his question, more focused on what you did. Hanging your head low, you clenched your fists. Your expression darkened and thoughts ran on your mind: "I'm hurt him... I should've never done that.. now he will leave me! No,nono!". Panicking, your hands trembled and he tried calling your name but you didn't respond.

"Dear.. dear... (name)!" He grabbed you by the shoulder slightly shaking you, snapping you out of your thoughts. Tears unconsciously began to pool up in the corners of your eyes as you looked up and saw him giving you a concerned look on his face.

"Ranpo.?" You muttered and he let out a breathy sigh of relief.

"I know something is wrong.. so please just tell me.?" He confronted you and your breath hitched at his question. "There really is nothing to hide from you, the world's greatest detective—no from Edogawa Ranpo.." you thought to yourself, biting your lower lip.

"Ranpo..." You let out a breathless sigh and he tensed up at your actions.

"Just tell me what's wrong. I'll make sure to fix it.. please" The last part was more like a whisper yet his voice cracked. Your eyes widened at his words and thought: "He really is perfect.. He'll comfort me when I'm upset and he goes out of his way to make sure I feel alright... While I... I do nothing..". Your head hung low once again, biting your lip, and trying to stop the incoming tears that blurred your vision.

"Ranpo.. I love you.. but you deserve someone better.. someone who can solve crimes, who can keep up with your intellect.. and someone who- someone who isn't me" You struggled to say those words but you knew it was the truth. He struggled to find meaning behind your words, his hand never left your shoulder in an attempt to make sure you'll face him.

"Hey.. it doesn't matter that you're job is not related to a detective's work... It never mattered if you can't keep up with my so called intellect—" he said softly, lifting your chin up to look at him, and brushing away the tears that escaped your eyes. You were puzzled with what he's saying but nonetheless, you listened, feeling comfort in him.

"—you're you. And that's what makes me love you. You keep up with my childish antics, you help me understand things I find trivial, and most importantly, because you found a way to love me sincerely.. you saw me as Edogawa Ranpo and not as my title as the World's Greatest Detective" He softly removed a strand of hair from your face, then he gently cupped your cheeks.

"But I-" having tried find your words you tried to speak up but you can't as he already hushed you with a deep and passionate kiss. You closed your eyes tasting a faint taste of sweet candy while feeling butterflies in your stomach. A few seconds passed by before your lips parted, he brushed away some tears that unconsciously left your eyes before leaning his forehead with yours.

"I would be not be the World's Greatest Detective but a fool if I were to let you go" He whispered in your ear before kissing your forehead, cheeks, and the back of your hand in a gentleman-like-manner.

"Now let's go I'm sleepy!" He leaded you to your shared bedroom by the hand.

"But what about the dishes-?" Before you could protest he hushed you by saying:

"The dishes can wait for tomorrow, I can't!" With that you gleefully smiled at him.

That night both of you slept in each other's embrace, cuddling below the blanket, using one another as your personal pillow. You felt warm and secure around Ranpo and he felt the same with you. He doesn't know what he'll do in life without you and you don't know how you will be without him.. You two really are perfect for each other.

A/n: When I was writing this the whole idea was so fluffy and sweet hile my earphones was playing intense violin concertos/op by Tchaikovsky..

[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!"

[giggly-squiggily]

AHHH REQUESTS I cant wait to read everything you come up with!!😭💖Since I can’t get these two out of my mind I’m going to try my luck with satosugu if any of this inspires you, feel free to switch it up in any way you like❤️

Gojo is being beyond arrogant and claims he wouldn’t even need Infinity to win a fight. Geto disagrees with “I bet I can make you activate Infinity in less than 5 minutes”

Hehehehhehhehe Yes! I love satosugu so much y'all don't even KNOW- it's been a hot minute since I've written for the boys! I've gotcha covered, friend!

CW: swearing

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@thatbigbisexual29 @duckymcdoorknob @gladdygirl18 @baby-tickles2022 @cupcake-spice13 @rachi-roo @chibisstuff @imjusthere07 @sevenincubistolemyheart @riisada @sp1racle @happy-trenchcoated-impala

“You’re full of shit.”

“And you’re full of piss.” Gojo replied back automatically, grinning around his soda. “Seriously though- I could absolutely win in a fight against you- even without my limitless ability.”

“Sure- that’s why it’s still on now?” Geto cocked a brow, watching Gojo choke on his drink. “You can’t even release it when you’re around me.”

“That’s cause I don’t want to catch your ugly.” The white haired teen grinned, laughing when Geto punched him in the shoulder. “I’m practicing holding it up for hours on end. Mr. Masamichi told me to do it- said it’d be helpful down the road.”

“That makes sense. Cursed energy is like muscles- the more you work them the stronger they get.” Still- Geto didn’t like how smug Gojo sounded a few moments ago. “I highly doubt you’d beat me without it.”

“Bet?” Gojo grinned. Got em.

“Bet.” Geto stood, getting into a fighting stance. Gojo tossed his can into the nearest recycle bin before doing the same, rolling out his shoulders. “Any last words before I kick your ass?”

“Yeah. I bet I can make you activate infinity in less than five seconds.”

Gojo grinned, a feral expression. “You’re on.”

The time was ticking- Geto and Gojo sized each other up as they crouched like alley cats; ready to fight. Gojo let his invisible aura fade.

Then- Geto struck.

“Whoa- gotcha!” Gojo laughed as he was tackled around the middle, Geto holding on tight. Was he gonna suplex him? Please- he had this in the bag. “Take this!” He raised his arms for a two handed slam when-

“GAH!” Gojo yelped when he was pulled to his feet- suddenly weakened. “No fair! No fahhahahir!”

“Yes fair, you shit!” Geto growled in his face, smirking while his hands prodded up and down Gojo’s sides. “I told you I can make you turn it back on in under five seconds!”

“Ihiiht’s nohohot on yehhehet! Aheahhahaha- yohohoohu cahahhan’t juhuhust gohhoho and tihiihihckle sohoohmeone like thahahaht! Aheahahha Suuhuhuhuguuhuuhru!” The pale haired teen swatted and shoved at Geto’s shoulders, trying his best to knock him away. Somehow in the time he was practicing Infinity, Geto was buffing up. “Whhiihihy ahahahhre yoohohu sohoohoho heheahhahavy?”

“Heavy? Oh hell nah- you did not just call me that!” Geto growled more, mock offended by the comment as he drilled into Gojo’s ribs, earning an arch and a squeal. “I’ll show you what happens when you go around calling people heavy! Take this!”

“Aheahhahahahaha! Gehahahahha nohoohoho! Nohohoht theehehhe rihiihibs! Yohoohhou’re kihihihihling mehehehehe!” Gojo thrashed and writhed like a snake, his arms pressed against his sides as his hands pinched at Geto’s collarbone in hopes of revenge tickles. “Thahahahke thahahaht!”

“Eh-ehehehehe! Iihhit’s gonna tahahke a lot more thahahn a few tihihihickles thehehre to get mehehehhe!” Geto scrunched some at the feeling, doubling his efforts to get Gojo to use his curse technique. He moved to the deadly spot near his lower ribs, pinching rapidly with four fingers.

“AH!” Gojo all but exploded into mirth, arching against him and throwing his head back in mirth. “SUHUHUHUGUHUUURUUHUHU!”

“Yes, Satoru? You know what you have to do.” Geto felt pride swell within. He was gonna get him to use it!

Gojo made a last ditch effort- reaching for Geto’s hips just as the other began drilling two fingers into that terrible spot on his waist. It was a close call, but seconds before he could make contact, Infinity kicked in- properly stopping Geto’s fingers where they were.

“Yes! AHH!” Geto’s whoop of victory was quickly cut short as Gojo squeezed his hips, making him shoot back frantically. The other teen was gasping for air, a hand on his belly and the other over his eyes as he slowly composed himself. “Goohohtcha! I told you I could mahahke you do it!”

“Nohoho..I won.” Gojo sat up, recovering fast. “You said you could make me activate it in five seconds or less. That was way longer.”

Geto didn’t have a response to that, leaving Gojo to whoop in his place. “Take that! Whoo! Why…why are you smiling at me like that.”

“A win is a win.” Geto shrugged, earning an even more confused glare. “Sure- you may have won the bet- but I got to tickle you for way longer than I planned. So thanks for that.”

Gojo blushed- another small win for Geto. “Why you son of a- COME HERE!” Flustered, the white haired teen threw himself at him, tackling him to the ground and going straight for the hips- making Geto shriek and cackle near instantly.

He didn’t regret it one bit.

Thanks for reading!

[huhcat]

My savior.

Heyoo! I come with some angsty thingies, hurr hurr. This is my first time doing something like this, so please excise if this is too amateur or whatever, lol.

Disclaimer, English is not my first language, and I think I still write a lot of mistakes, so do forgive that.

Cw: angst, undereating, being held captive, Toby is a manipulator, hhh...

Yeah, I think that's it. :)

You had forgotten what the problem was at this point. The only thing you knew was that you were not at fault here.

You, however, felt bad, for your boyfriend was somehow guilt tripping you, manipulating you into thinking that it was your fault to be in this situation when you decided to laugh a little too much at Tim's jokes.

Toby was, by no means, a Saint. Even the other creeps knew not to mess with him, especially considering the fact that he was unpredictable. You never knew what his reaction would be, making him a ticking bomb ready to explode at any second.

He locked you in his room, which was as messy as ever. For whatever reason, Toby had nailed some boards to his window, making the room dark and reeking of humidity. It also did not help that the light bulb went out a long time ago, and Toby didn't want to fix it yet.

He decided that the best thing to do was to seclude you from everyone so that no one would take you away... So that you wouldn't dare cheat on him again with Tim.

He'd bring you some food every once in a while, but judging by what he served you, you only ate breakfast and dinner. The rest of the day you'd spend locked in the room, cold and dark, waiting for this punishment to be over.

It would be really hard to convince Toby that you were "ready" to go out again, since he thought that if you, by any chance, even dared to look a little too long to anyone else, you would be betraying him. Cheating on him with whomever that person were.

Days passed like this, still locked in his room.

At least you had his company, him toying with your hair as you sobbed in place, both of you sitting on his bed as he told you that this was for your own good, that you only had to learn to have eyes for him and him only. He would say that this would pass as long as you learned your lesson, but... at what cost?

By the time he let you out, it had been a month. You came to realize that Toby would tell the others that you were sick, how a horrible cold got to you, then you coincidentally started feeling dizzy and vomiting after you were "healed."

Of course, you looked emaciated. You weren't the person you used to be before.

This time, you made sure to stick close to Toby. To speak only to Toby.

There was no one else you needed, other than Toby.

He who gave you his love even when he locked you up, He who cherished you even when you were such a horrible person, He who loved you through think and thin even when you dared speak to others.

He gave you solace, company, love...

And isn't that what good boyfriends do?

[oleander-nin]

Horrortober Day 11- Mind Games(Yandere Rise Leo x Reader)

A/N, not important: Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: mention of alcohol and drugs, manipulation, hinted emotional abuse, yandere themes, dark themes

Words: 1693

Summary: You broke up with Leo, but he's not ready to give you up.

Your eyes drift across the sea of bodies, stepping back and to the side to avoid touching any of them. Coming here was a mistake, you felt. Sure, you wanted to get your mind off your recent breakup, but this was not the way to go. It was too loud, too bright, and everyone was already high or drunk and the many masks and faces of monsters and witches wasn’t helping. You grimace at the strong smell of the fruit punch in your hand, knowing it had been spiked at some point. If you found a garbage can, you’d throw it away before mistakenly taking a sip. You didn’t want to risk anything. You still had to drive home after all.

You search through the costumed college students for the friends that had insisted you come, promising it would be worth it and you’d have fun. You snort at the thought. It had barely been twenty minutes, and you already had a headache.

You feel your phone buzz in your pocket, catching your attention. Slipping away from the mass of bodies and giving up on the search, you pull out the vibrating device. Text after text was rolling though, different numbers flashing on your screen. You frown as you read the name rolling though, Leo’s pleading and angry texts blowing up your phone.

You unlock it and go to the conversation between the two of you, blocking his number once more. You were getting your number changed tomorrow, so dealing with him would only be another day. You were free of him, free of the pain and stress he caused, the sense of paranoia and fear he brought on. No more fights, no more of his obsession, no more being a prisoner to your own boyfriend.

You turn off your phone and slip it back into your pocket, doubt and guilt bubbling in your stomach. Part of you felt like you were over reacting. You knew he loved you, it was clear. But that love had gotten too much and you were starting to feel the danger brewing under his skin. The way he looked at you was once filled with love, his dark eyes swimming in happiness and hope for the future, but now they only carried the cold touch of possession and want. He still made his jokes, still treated you like you were his favorite thing in the world, but now it was… Dangerous. Like if you said the wrong thing or did something he didn’t like he would explode. He was a ticking time bomb you forgot how to defuse, and you didn’t want to be there when it finally set off.

You still loved him, the pang in your heart reminding you with every thought that flooded your brain, but being with him has gotten to be too dangerous, your mental health draining. He had started to cost you your friends, started to make you paranoid. You didn’t know how long it would go on before either of you snapped.

You gaze back into the crowd, bright lights attacking your view and making your vision swim. A group of ghosts floated by, the sheets over their heads billowing as they walked. It entertained you to see such a thing, your own costume having about the same effort as theirs. With the party so last minute, you hadn’t had time for a complex costume. You simply woke up this morning and put on a black shirt and sweats, topping the look off with a cat eared headband and three lines on either cheek with a sharpie.

Green skin in the crowd catches your eyes, your heart rate jumping as you tense. You search through the mass of people until you find what you thought you had seen. The ogre’s costume was a duller green than the one that caught your eyes, but you assumed a yellow or green light had been shining rather than the red covering them now. You lean against the wall, swirling your spiked drink. You were really thinking about taking a sip now, at least to get your mind to ease up. This was a party, you were supposed to be having fun, not thinking of Leo.

Pushing off the wall, you merge into the crowd once more to continue looking for your friends. You turn your head as you walk, looking out for the Sesame Street characters your friends said they came as. While scanning faces and masks, your eyes meet familiar ones, the deep onyx oh his eyes shining against the light. Your breath leaves you as you take in the green skin and pink crescents, his mask a stark contrast on his face.

You blink and he’s gone, a costumed student in his wake. You stare at the spot where you saw Leo, your hands shaking slightly. Did you accidentally take a sip of your drink? Were you losing it? In your confused haze, you let the crowd slowly push you back to the edges, your mind still reeling with the sights of your now ex. He couldn’t be here, he wouldn’t even know of this party. You stare at the floor, finally putting your drink down on a small table without a care. It wasn’t like you were going to pick it back up.

The feeling of three-fingered hands drifting over your waist makes your blood run cold and your muscles tense, one settling and the other crossing over to hang onto your wrist. His mouth presses against your ear, his voice a soft whisper full of unsaid fury. “Never thought you’d be in a party like this.”

You stand dumbly in his arms, unable to speak nor move. You gape at the wall in front of you, his strong hands guiding you towards the corner of the room and away from prying eyes. He seemed content with your silence, a smug smile on his face when you glanced back at him. You couldn’t help but feel terrified. Why was he here?

“Dance with me,” He purrs, his eyes flashing dangerously everytime you try to pull away. He never turns you around, keeping your back pressed against his chest. It was surreal, and your brain was stuck in an infinite loop of panic. You couldn’t help but feel unsafe, even in the arms of someone you once, and still do, loved. “It’s the least you could do after the fit you’ve been throwing. I can’t believe you’ve been ignoring me.”

You let him sway you both back and forth with the music, your voice stuck in your throat as you try to not pull away from instinct. His nails dig into your skin, a deadly smile on his lips. He hums along with the music, keeping your body pulled flush with his while he moves. He seemed content despite the circumstances, his hands holding you steady and close.

“Why are you here?” You ask quietly, your heart beating faster than it ever has before. The music was too loud still, the bass drumming the tune in your skull. You felt tired all of a sudden, the safety your brain had found in Leo over the years overriding the clear danger he presented. You wanted to pull away, to run and never look back, but his grip is firm. You weren’t getting out of this one.

“Because I’m your boyfriend, and I got worried when you didn’t answer my texts and calls.” He exaggerates a pout, jutting out his bottom lip as he looks down at you. He had grown over the years you knew him, yet still managed to keep the same jokester personality he claimed was the face of his brothers team. You scowl at his words, finally being knocked out of whatever trance you were in. You try to pull away, thrashing slightly in his grip.

“We broke up.” You remind, glaring at the mutant blending in with the fellow partygoers. Leo drops his pout, rolling his eyes as he adjusts his grip and moves you both closer to the wall.

“No, we didn’t.” He says with the certainty of a monarch sending a traitor to death. “You got upset, and said something you shouldn’t have. But we’re not breaking up.”

"Leonardo Hamato, let me go this instant." You demand, pushing harshly against his chest with your one free hand. His words pushed your brain into overdrive, the fear hitting you like bricks. You needed to leave. Now.

Leo smiles deviously, his eyes flashing as he dares you to do more. "Pulling out my full name now, are we? Looks like someone's getting serious."

His tone is no more than a deep purr, smoothing over the anger and hatred held in his heart. He wanted to slam you against the wall and choke you until you passed out, his steady hands twitching with greed. You were small compared to him now, his size nearly doubling since he was a teen. Not to mention the muscle mass he gained and the reflexes and experience he now had. You were but a lamb to the slaughter, and it was Leo who was the deciding factor on whether you made it out alive. Leo's smile widens. You were so lucky he loved you.

He squeezes your wrist and you can feel the bones start to strain under the pressure, threatening to crack. Your knees buckle at the pain, a small cry leaving your lips. He had never really hurt you before, and especially not while he was grinning. A small kiss is pressed to the back of your head, a quick squeeze being given as a warning.

“Come home with me now, quietly and on your own, or I snap both your legs and kill everyone here.”

He says this lightly, as if it was a small joke between friends. You feel tears well in your eyes. There was no way he wasn’t serious, the glint in his eye showing just how badly he wanted to show you what he was willing to do. You let out a sob, and crumple in his arms. There was nothing you could do but comply.