#and i think maybe a controller will be better(?)

[ssaaaronmontgomery]

dbf! hotch who won't directly touch you but will use a toy on you as you're crying and begging for his touch 😩

So Mean, but So Good

Warnings: Smut! Age gap relationship (both adults), p in v sex, unprotected sex, sex toy, mean!hotch, degradation, rough sex, dumbification, brief biting, oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, vaginal fingering, squirting, pet names, some overstimulation, Hotch is a little condescending in this one, slight praise, begging, teasing, scratching, aftercare, please let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 2.2k (my longest fic in so long haha)

Pairing: dbf!hotch x fem!reader

A/n: Yes 😩. I love this so much and I really got a bit carried away with this request haha 😅. Hope you still enjoy it anon!!

Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat @ssahotchnerr @criminalskies @beardedhotchh @hotchnerbau @ssamorganhotchner @mrs-ssa-hotch @canuck-eh @luvehotch @callm3c0nfus3d @ivyflowers13 @randomuserrs

Hotch: @14buddy22 @pastanoodles11 @htchnr

@hoe4hotchner I'll tag you in this one because we talked so much about it 🤭

Let me know if you want to be added to my tags 🫶

This post is NSFW minors please DNI****

Aaron has you splayed out on his bed he's staring directly at your core. He's holding a vibrator to your clit and he has been for both of the orgasms you've had so far. It feels good, but he always feels so much better. You want his mouth and his fingers and you want them badly.

You're whining and whimpering because you feel good, but is it mostly because you just want him to touch you and he's refusing to give in to any of your pleas.

"Aaron, please touch me. I need it. Need you." You beg him and squirm. He chuckles from between your thighs and shakes his head. "No. I already told you I'm not going to touch you. Why is that so hard for you to understand, princess? You're so needy for me all the time that your toy doesn't cut it anymore, hm?" You whine again and throw your head back against his pillows with a pathetic whimper.

"You're so mean, Aaron!" He chuckles darkly this time. "I could make it worse. I could stop completely." Another whine and you look down at him. "No! No, please don't. But please, please touch me. Please? I'll be good for you. I just want you so so badly." You beg him again, tears just starting to form your eyes, and he smirks after sighing. "I don't know, sweetheart. I think it's fun watching you squirm and beg like this. Maybe a little more begging could convince me..." He smirks at you and he presses the vibrator against your clit more firmly now. You bite your lip and your hips buck involuntarily.

"Please, Aaron, please! I'll be a good girl for you, I promise! I just need you!" A tear slips down your cheek and you look down at him again. He squeezes your thigh with his strong hand that is unoccupied. "More. Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you." His eyes darken and he suppresses his urge to bite the inside of your thigh.

Your toes curl and your chest shakes with a small sob. A real sob.

"Aaron, I want you to do whatever you want to do to me! I want you to eat me out, I want you to finger me, I want you to use me, I want you to fuck me until I can only say your name, but then fuck me harder so I can't even say that. I want to be a wordless mess for you. Please just touch me!" That breaks Aaron and he bites down on the inside of your thigh, no longer controlling that urge from moments ago. He tosses the vibrator aside after turning it off and he pulls his shirt over his head, throwing that somewhere as well. He buries his face in your sopping wet pussy and laps at you with his warm, wet tongue.

Moans immediately begin to fall from your lips and your thighs tighten around his head. He's groaning into you and those vibrations, though not nearly as strong as your toy, feel infinitely better. It doesn't take long for him to pull your third orgasm out of you by sucking and licking your sensitive clit.

"Aaron! Mmmmm. Thank you, Aaron! Thank you!" Your eyes are closed and your head is thrown back. All you can think of is his face between your thighs and the blinding pleasure he's giving you.

Aaron doesn't even give you time to recover from your release before plunging two of his thick fingers into your cunt and thrusting them hard and fast. He keeps his tongue on your sensitive bundle of nerves and works hard to bring you to the edge again. You're writhing around and your hips buck involuntarily against his face from the slight overstimulation you're feeling that causes you to whine and squirm.

You can feel your next orgasm building fast and Aaron can too. He angles his fingers just right and before you know it, you're a moaning mess once again for him as you release spurts of wetness that Aaron laps at immediately. He hasn't even fucked you senseless yet, still hard in his slacks after getting home from work and calling you to come over, but you already can't conjure a single thought as you twitch and spasm.

You only live a few houses away from him and he sometimes wonders if you get loud enough to let everyone know how good he's taking you. He just hopes your parents never walk by his house when you're screaming his name at the top of your lungs.

Aaron's tongue darts between your folds and back to your clit a few times before giving your nub one last harsh suck and then he pulls his face from between your soaked thighs. When you finally manage to open your eyes again, you see him removing those slacks that must be incredibly uncomfortable at this point and you see how wet his face has become from your juices.

"Mm... Aaron..." You mumble and weakly reach a hand out in his direction. "I'm here, princess. Just let me make you feel good. Since that's what you begged me for, isn't it, sweetheart? You can take more, isn't that right, needy girl?" He rests his now naked body against yours and his voice is slightly condescending, but there's still a genuine tone underneath with the second question. You let out another whine and you nod your head dumbly.

He chuckles darkly again and presses his hips against yours. "Have I already fucked you dumb, princess? I've only had my fingers in you and you can't even speak." He grinds his hips against yours and keeps looking down at you beneath him. His cock rubs against your folds and your clit which causes your hips to jolt from the sensitivity.

Aaron smirks and he reaches down to grip his throbbing length in his large hand. He guides his tip through your folds now. "You're so pretty like this. All dumb for me. You're so sensitive now, but you still want more, don't you?" You nod dumbly one more time and whimper. "Normally I would make you use your words but you can't even form them, can you?" You shake your head this time and he chuckles before pushing his entire length into you.

He fills you completely and stretches you deliciously. It causes you to moan right into his ear as he groans into yours. Your fingers claw at his back and he's sure there will be scratches all over his skin soon enough. He loves being able to admire them in the mirror, remembering how he took you so nicely to cause you to mark him up like that.

He's buried deep inside of you now, but he hasn't started moving. It's not because he's letting you adjust, it's because he wants to tease you some more by not immediately setting his pace and taking you hard and fast. Which you don't realise until you have been waiting for a minute or two for him to begin thrusting , only for him to not do so. You whine and try to move your hips to signal that you want him to move. He grips one to keep you still.

"You know, I think I want you to beg me just a little more. I know you've lost your words, but why don't you try to find them to ask for what you want just one more time, princess. Hm?" You throw your head back into his pillow with whimper and a pout that makes Aaron smirk again. "Come on, just use your words one last time..." He's decided to make you find the words you don't have after originally making you think you wouldn't need to. He's sexually frustrating but he's also like a god in bed so you don't want to complain, not that you really could anyway. So instead you just squirm and whine again which causes him to grab your jaw to force you to look at him. "Don't be a brat and do what I said, princess." He's so mean sometimes.

You go through your mind in search of the few words you need and after a moment, you're finally able to find them. "Fuck me, Aaron!" You cry out like you had earlier and with that he begins slamming his hips into yours, pounding his entire cock into you over and over again relentlessly.

Your back arches and he takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you in that moment, making sure to keep your body pressed close to his. All you can do is gasp and moan as he completely ruins your pussy. The only sounds in the room are skin slapping and whatever vocal noises you and Aaron are making, along with Aaron speaking occasionally.

"Is this what you wanted, sweet girl?" Aaron practically growls into your ear and you try your best to nod your head, but it's hard because of the force he's using to pound into you. He's practically moving you up the bed with each thrust.

It's becoming hard to keep your eyes open and all you can do is just lie there and let him ensure you won't be walking for the next few days, which means you'll be staying with him even longer as you wouldn't dare to go back home and be asked why you're limping. He continues to stretch you and pound into you, somehow making you feel like he's getting deeper and deeper each time. He brings one hand up to hold the back of your head in order to make sure you won't hit your head on the bedframe.

Aaron's other hand travels down to your core to rub your clit and you tremble beneath him. "One more. Be a good girl and cum for me one more time, princess." He whispers into your ear and you feel your next orgasm rapidly approaching. It doesn't take much longer for your thighs to start shaking and for your back to arch your chest up into his. Your mind is fuzzy and you can't think. Your entire body is taken over with the pleasure he brings you.

This also pushes Aaron over the edge and you feel his previously calculated thrusts become sloppy as he loses his rhythm. He groans loudly into your ear and moans your name as he cums inside of you. You feel the warmth spreading through your cunt and you flutter around him with one more orgasm that makes his own last a little longer.

You both stay like this for a good while, attempting to catch your breath as you come down from your highs. Aaron's arms instinctively move around you again to keep you close and you try to do the same to him, but your arms are practically useless, as is the rest of your body at the moment. You'd love to play with his hair, but you can't feel your limbs or make them move.

Aaron peppers soft kisses to your neck and jaw before moving to your cheeks, forehead, and then finally landing one on your lips. His breathing has slowed quite a bit now, but he is still hazy from his intense release. Even then, he still has this want and need to make sure you're okay and to show you his love and affection.

"You're perfect, sweetheart." He mumbles into your neck before pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "How are you feeling?" His voice is rough, but soft and low at the same time. He moves one hand to gently rub at your scalp as he waits for you to respond. "I feel good...just limp." You mumble back and he can't help the small chuckle that escapes him. He smiles down at you and kisses your temple. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you." He promises you.

He keeps his promise and cleans you up after pulling out, his release leaking from you when he does, and he showers you with all of his affection in the ways he always does. He gets you some cold water and something to snack on. He puts something on for you to watch together and he snuggles you constantly unless you need him to get you something because you physically can't walk right now and won't be able to for at least a day or two.

He rubs your arms, back, shoulders, and neck to help you stay relaxed and he gives you small pecks on your lips and all over your face. He loves you and he wants to keep you protected in his arms. He wants to hold you and treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Yes, he loves to be rough with you and degrade you in bed; maybe being a little mean on occasion, but that's for your benefit and his and it's just a game for pleasure. Outside of those times, he just wants you to feel peace, comfort, safety, and love when being with him. Which you do. You always do and you're certain it will never change.

[schoenpepper]

Despite Everything (It's Still You)

Intro: When he looks at you, he sees everything he could have been.

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, not proofread, kinda angsty, more platonic im pretty sure cus its not specified if ur lovers, might be ooc idk and idc, everytime i write idia i feel 10 years older because i cringe at my own internet slang

A/N: Done! Last request is finished, hope you like it worm anon. On my end, this is super rushed and it's not like, my fave ever so ehhhh.

Masterlist

Riddle thought he’d found a comrade in you. Out of everyone in Twisted Wonderland, he’d thought you would be the one to understand him.

He sees it in your posture, always straight and never slouching. You’re good with academics, a diligent student. Like Riddle, you’d gone through life with the iron fist of a well-meaning parent, so surely, you understand him, right? You agree with him. You believe that rules are important to be upheld lest society fall into chaos. It’s such a refreshing feeling to find a person who, like him, thinks that structure and stability are core values of a proper community.

But you don’t. You don’t understand. No one does. His consciousness is flickering between ink and reality. He’s slipping into the grasp of the phantom and he feels himself slowly being consumed. He’s being devoured. Right before the overblot, even you had stood against him. Why? Riddle wasn’t wrong, he was never wrong—the rules aren’t wrong. Because if they are, then what did he lose his entire childhood for? So you must be the one at fault. This is your mistake. You just don’t understand. You tell him that the rules and the competence and the structure matter less than people. You try to convince him that there’s a better way of living. Is there?

Riddle doesn’t know why. He’d thought you were a comrade because he saw his own experiences in yours, but he’d never been so wrong. While he was still caught up in the chains of his mother’s words, you’d already broken free from the cage. You help him to reclaim the shards of childish wonder he’d never been allowed to have. You help him learn how to breathe, how to relax. Little by little, you bring him onto your path.

He doesn’t understand you anymore.

Leona doesn’t have any opinions about you. You never really talked to him at first, and he can respect that; you don’t go out of your way for bothersome, meaningless things.

Every time he sees you, you’re sleeping or slacking off. Whatever, it’s not like he can judge you for it. You also have a real competitive streak for spelldrive, and your wit’s not half bad, especially when compared to the muscle heads in his dorm. Clever and snarky, talented and strong. He can respect you. Maybe just barely, and he’ll never admit it, but he sees a part of himself in you. So, a sort-of equal. He’s still better than you though.

The taste of sand lingers on his tongue as it swirls in the air through the storm. There’s a part of himself he can no longer control. It makes him wrap his fingers around Ruggie’s throat and Leona… He doesn’t want this. But he can’t stop. He can still recognize you on the edge of his vision. Weren’t you just like him? At birth, everything good was handed right over to your older sibling, leaving nothing but scraps for you. You found it unfair too, didn’t you? So why are you standing against him? This is his chance to be someone worth more than his birthright. Why…are you not agreeing with him?

Leona tried to stay away from you. But call it his instinct or whatever; he can’t seem to avoid you at all. The second prince of Sunset Savanna is awestruck by your words. You tell him that birth doesn’t determine everything. You tell him that you’d learned from your own past. That you can still make something of yourself without that which was given. You sure are chatty now, but who is he to stop you?

You’re not his equal. You’d long since left him in the dust.

Azul sees you as an opportunity. He likes you, really, because you know how to do business and you find a way to compromise that doesn’t step on either person’s lines.

It’s not difficult for him to find out about your past, and to be honest, he’s greatly delighted to find out about all that you have in common. Did you feel the way he did when he was isolated and bullied? Did you feel his pain? You were an outcast too, weren’t you? But wow, look at you (and him) now! It’s rare he sees someone as diligent as himself, as cunning and as smart. Resourceful and oh so benevolent, you’d fit right into Octavinelle!

He’d steered himself long ago; he would never be weak again. He had long, long since forgotten humiliation and defeat. But he’s here again. This time, defeat was brought by your hands. Azul had thought you were allies. Business partners, at least. Why betray him like this? Don’t you get it? He’s powerful now! Why try to stop him? Why did you succeed? He’s left in the aftermath of heartache and debris. He doesn’t know why he did the things he did, but he’s sure that he was so close to being all-powerful. Perfect. A being so beautiful and flawless and strong… You took that chance away from him.

Azul wants you out of his life—your presence now is only a reminder of everything he could have been, and everything he failed to be. Unlike him, you’ve already moved on. You’ve learned to forgive your tormentors, and most importantly, you’ve learned to forgive yourself. You tell him that it was never his fault, but that revenge was never meant to be the answer.

He finds that he had nothing in common with you, after all.

Jamil is perceptive. Next to the one who’s attracting the attention of the whole room with a bright smile and sunny disposition, he finds a kindred spirit in you.

You seem responsible enough, and like a mirror, he sees you taking care of that person the way he does with Kalim. It’s easy to pierce through your act because he knows how to do it too. Seemingly not too smart, not too dumb, not too strong, not too weak. You’re good at pretending to be average. Like Jamil, you’ve lived a life of servitude. Are you tired of forced humility? Of feeling like your life isn’t worth anything when compared to the one you serve?

He’s tired too. He’s so, so tired. Why was freedom unreachable to Jamil right from the moment he was conceived? Was he unworthy of a life unbound by shackles? You’re looking at him like he’s a stranger. Jamil looks at you like you’re a mirror. A mirror that’s shattered, and damaged, and every piece is covered with ink and regret. You know what he’s been through, so why are you in his way? You should be an accomplice. Do you not yearn to be your own person? The phantom is whispering promises he knows it won’t keep. But nothing is more tempting than just…one day of happiness. Of his own happiness.

Jamil is inevitably drawn to you. You live so brightly; you see your master as a friend. You tell him he doesn’t need to do the same. That the only thing he needs to do is find a way that works for him. And you’re asking about things he hadn’t thought of before. An employment contract? The legal status of slavery in the Scalding Sands? Wait, you’re serving that person out of your own volition in exchange for salary and other related benefits?

In you, he sees a light at the end of the tunnel.

Vil approves of you. Like looking in a mirror almost, he sees beauty and a passionate drive to remain beautiful in every single way.

You’re a person with a consistent goal and a persistent drive to do better and be better; a hard worker with tenacity like that of the Queen herself. You are no potato. You are a diamond that has found a way to shine uniquely, and like him, you are already a master at your chosen profession. And yet, he sees the trophies and the medals are all silver and never gold. It is frustrating, but Vil knows that you as well know what it’s like to always be second best.

He’d worked so hard. He’d tried his very best. Professional music and choreography, styling and costumes. He’d set up a multi-week boot camp for his team members in order to whip them into shape. It’s all swept away by that person. Again. And again. And again and again and again and— No. No more. He will take matters into his own hands. But you stand in front of him with a familiar determination, only this time, you’re determined to stop him. Rook had betrayed him and now, you do too. Is he not worthy of a victory? Not even once? The blot is so, so ugly. But if it means he’ll get to wipe out everything that’s opposed to him, he’ll take that blot and use it to his own advantage. Like the queen who’d disguised herself as an ugly witch in order to take down the princess; everything can be sacrificed for the sake of ultimate beauty. If you’re not with him, you must be against him.

Vil apologizes sincerely for his faults. He knows he was wrong, even if it hurts his pride to admit it. But you accept him so easily, so readily, he can’t believe you’re acting like he’d never even hurt you. You forgive him. You help him accept his losses and continue to strive. Because you’d been in his position before, but you’d grown to be happy and appreciate the wins in life instead.

You are no mirror image of him. You are better.

Idia’s never been this happy before; through his screen is someone who just gets him. You’re good at games, and an introvert too? Score!

It’s not like, ever, that someone who vibes with his genius just comes strolling through his life, so Magicord bears witness to long, late night chats about anything and everything. You’ve got some real fucked up childhood trauma too, big mood tbh. It’s easy to spill his guts out over the internet, because even then, you still don’t really know him. You like the games and animes that he likes, and he’s so glad that for once, there’s a person out there who’s lived through the same villain-arc that he has.

He can’t rebuild the world if so many noobs are trying to stop him. Why? What’s so wrong with wishing for a world that can fit him and Ortho right in? Why is that too much for him to ask for? Why are you, the person he thought was his cool moots, acting up too? Don’t you like Ortho? Bro…no…you’re not actually doing a protagonist monologue rn, are you? Seriously? You think you can defeat him and his phantom through the power of friendship? Lolz, you’re so lame. If the world was a fairytale, he wouldn’t have been born with this dumb curse. If the world was a fairytale, he would never have been trapped in STYX with no way out. If the world was a fairytale, Ortho would still be alive. But it’s not. So he’ll remake it to be the story he’d always dreamt it to be.

Idia thinks you’re 110% cringe, like actually barf-inducing. But you did kinda save him or whatevs, so he can put up with you. Like, begrudgingly yk. You’re just such a weirdo. He really thought you were just like him, but no. You’ve had therapy. That’s like, actually wild. You try to counsel him too, talking about feelings and whatnot, and how to move past grief so that it no longer consumes you from the inside out.

So it turns out you didn’t have a villain arc like Idia did. You’re the main hero.

Malleus finds you absolutely delightful. To see another who can speak to him without fear or nervousness is a marvelous thing that he cherishes.

You are no fae or long-lived species, but he finds you fascinating. You are intelligent and wise beyond your years. You are powerful in your own right. You are familiar, in every sense of the word. Even your experiences seem to be shared. You’d been orphaned too, and experienced loss and grieved. You’d mourned for far too many loved ones who have left before you. Do you see the present as he does? Do you embrace the past as he does?

The world is a sad, sad place. He would like to change it. Into one with happy ever afters, into one where there is no hunger and no poverty. There will be no suffering. In his hands, he will mold the world into one that is kinder to its people. There will be no death and separation. He’s had far too many of those, enough to last his long lifetime. He’s not wrong. So why…why do you stand against him, weapon pointed towards him? The only thing he wishes for is permanence. Do you not see the vision? There is so much sadness in the world, why do you choose to wake from your beautiful slumber and face it head on? No matter. He will help you, even if you deny him.

Malleus is more than happy to take your hand when it is outstretched towards himself. You teach him so many things he hadn’t realized before, like how to cherish the present and treasure each memory more than attempting to find a solution to make them everlasting. He had believed wholly that he was right; that the answer to death was a long period of dreams in which everyone lives in a happy ending. He had believed you to be similar to himself—he is wrong about many, many things.

You’ve always looked to a brighter future than he could even imagine.

[wolverigrl]

Scorched Earth

Logan Howlett x mutant reader

!Disclaimer! Y/n is a mutant with the same skills as the human torch! Let me know if you'd like to read another part!

Warnings: mentioning of alcohol and death, angst

Enjoy!

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

“Bobby, for real, you can’t possibly think that’s better than mine!” I laughed, leaning back on the chair in the kitchen, feet propped up on the table. Across from me, my brother grinned, folding his arms over his chest with that cocky smirk of his.

“You’re just jealous I got the better nickname.” Bobby replied, his voice light, teasing. “Iceman? It’s sleek, it’s cool - literally - and it fits me.”

I snorted, rolling my eyes. “Oh, please. ‘Iceman’ sounds like the title of some second-rate action movie. Meanwhile, I’m lighting up the sky over here.”

Bobby raised a brow, feigning offense. “That’s a lot of talk from someone who’s still stuck with ‘Firecracker.’ ”

I punched him lightly on the arm. “I’ll take ‘Firecracker’ any day over your ‘cool’ puns.”

Our banter was easy, the kind that came naturally after years of being siblings. Bobby had always been the steady one, the one who could calm everyone down with a joke, while I was the hothead - pun intended - never one to back down from a challenge. It’s what made us a good team, even if we drove each other crazy half the time.

The way he carried himself, his calm demeanor, and his unwavering sense of control over his powers - everything I wasn't.

I was the fire to his ice, the chaos to his calm. We clashed often, but it wasn’t because we didn’t care. It was because we cared too much. And despite all the bickering, all the teasing, there was a bond between us that no one could break. I’d die for him. He was my anchor when my temper flared, my tether to reality when my powers spiraled out of control.

Just as I was about to throw another sarcastic remark his way, Logan walked into the room, his usual gruff self. He barely acknowledged us, heading straight for the fridge. Typical.

“Hey, Logan!” I called, a mischievous grin spreading across my face. “Did you finally get that stick outta your ass, or is it still lodged in there pretty good?”

Logan froze mid reach for a beer, then slowly turned his head, giving me the look - the one that said 'I am not in the mood for your crap right now, bub.' But that just made it more fun.

“Don’t you have somethin’ better to do, hotshot?” he growled, slamming the fridge shut and twisting the cap off his beer with more force than necessary. “Or do you just live to run your mouth?”

I smirked, unfazed. “You know, it’s funny you say that, because I’ve noticed you love listening to me. Maybe it’s because no one else has the guts to call you out on your eternal grumpiness?”

Bobby snickered from beside me, enjoying the show. “She’s got a point, man. You’re not exactly known for your sunny disposition.”

Logan shot Bobby a glare before turning his attention back to me. “Maybe I’m grumpy ‘cause some people around here don’t know when to shut up.”

“Oh, come on, Logan. You’d miss me if I didn’t poke at you every now and then.” I said, leaning forward with a grin. “Admit it - you secretly love the banter.”

Logan let out a low, frustrated growl, shaking his head as he took a long swig from his beer. “The day I admit that, is the day hell freezes over. And even then, I’ll blame Bobby.”

Bobby grinned, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, don’t drag me into your weird dynamic. I’m just the innocent bystander.”

I shot Bobby a mock glare. “Innocent? You? Yeah, sure. Tell that to the last five people you pranked.”

Logan huffed, clearly done with the conversation, but I wasn’t quite finished yet. “You know, Logan.” I continued, leaning back again and stretching my arms behind my head, “You really oughta work on that sunny disposition. You’re gonna give yourself wrinkles with all that frowning.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, jaw clenching. “Why don’t you mind your own damn business and keep that fire of yours under control?”

“Oh, I keep it very controlled, thank you very much.” I said, flashing a smile. “Besides, you seem to enjoy living dangerously. Why else would you keep hanging around us?”

Logan shook his head, muttering something under his breath before retreating to his usual corner of the room, beer in hand, grumbling the entire way. Bobby leaned in toward me, his voice low enough so only I could hear.

“I still think you’re his favorite.”

I laughed quietly, watching Logan brood from across the room. “Nah, he just hasn’t figured out how to handle all of this yet.” I gestured to myself with a playful smirk.

“Sure, that’s what it is.” Bobby chuckled, leaning back with a relaxed sigh.

Despite Logan’s gruff attitude and my constant teasing, there was a kind of unspoken respect between us. He was the first to step in when things got dangerous, always willing to put himself on the line for the team. And even though he’d never admit it, I knew he appreciated having someone who wasn’t afraid to challenge him, to call him out when he was being extra cranky. In a way, it kept things balanced.

Bobby and I exchanged another look, both of us knowing exactly how this dynamic worked. I teased Logan, Logan growled, and the world kept spinning. It was our version of normal - a delicate balance of sarcasm, snark, and the occasional grumpy Wolverine glare.

It was one of those rare moments when everything felt light, even if just for a little while. Days like these, with Bobby teasing me, and Logan grumbling from across the room, were the best. I’d give anything to hold onto them.

But life as an X-Men had a way of reminding you that those moments could be fleeting.

And I didn’t know then just how fleeting they would be.

Todays mission was supposed to be a standard takedown. Another mutant extremist group, radicalized and bent on 'mutant supremacy'. Charles had briefed us thoroughly, and we had faced worse before. Or at least we thought we had.

It went south almost immediately. We were outnumbered, and it was clear that our enemies had intel we weren’t prepared for. They knew where we would be, how we would strike, and worse - they knew how to separate us. That was when things really started to fall apart.

The battlefield was a mess of chaos and screaming. Blasts of energy, ice, and fire lit up the sky, while the air howled with the sound of Storm’s winds tearing through enemy lines. I was a blur of fire and fury, every step a combustion of flame as I ripped through the chaos, throwing up walls of fire to keep enemies at bay. But no matter how hard we fought, there were too many. We were getting spread thin. Too thin.

I caught sight of Bobby ahead of me, just in time to see him raise an enormous ice wall to shield a group of our teammates. His back was to me, and before I could shout a warning, a blast from one of the enemy’s weapons slammed into him, sending him sprawling across the ground.

“Bobby!” I screamed, my heart lurching.

He struggled to get up, one knee bent, but the blast had been too much. His walls of ice began to crack and crumble around him. Panic rose in my throat like bile. He was surrounded, the enemies closing in.

I pushed forward, flames erupting from my palms as I blasted through the mob, trying to reach him. “Hang on, I’m coming!” I shouted, but my voice barely cut through the cacophony of combat.

But I wasn’t fast enough.

Before I could get to him, a second blast hit him. The impact was devastating. I saw his body jerk violently before he collapsed, crumpling like a rag doll on the cold, scorched ground. Time seemed to slow, my breath caught in my throat, and everything else faded away.

“No!” My scream tore from my chest, broken and raw, but there was nothing I could do.

He was still, too still.

I scrambled toward him, my flames fizzling out as I dropped to my knees beside his body. I reached out, hands trembling as I gently touched his face. His skin was cold, colder than it should have been. His chest didn’t rise. His eyes were closed. My pulse pounded in my ears, but I couldn't hear anything except the roaring silence in my own head.

He was gone.

“Bobby, please…” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Please don’t leave me.”

I don’t know how long I sat there, holding him, begging for him to come back. I couldn’t save him. I. Couldn’t. Save. Him.

Then, something broke inside me.

The grief, the rage, the helplessness - everything surged at once, overwhelming every rational thought. The fire inside me, the power I always tried to control, flared up in an instant. It wasn’t just fire anymore - it was fury, pure and uncontrollable.

Flames erupted from my body, hotter and fiercer than they ever had before. I screamed, the sound ripping through the air as fire exploded in all directions, a supernova of heat and light. The ground beneath me cracked, molten lava seeping from the earth as the intensity of my power burned through everything in its path.

I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t want to.

The flames raged out, consuming everything they touched. The enemy soldiers who had killed Bobby screamed as they were incinerated, their bodies turning to ash in mere seconds. The ground smoked, trees around us igniting in a blaze, and the air became thick with heat.

Jean’s voice echoed in my mind, faint, as if she was shouting at me from the end of a long tunnel. “Y/n, stop! You have to stop!” Her voice was desperate, but I couldn’t listen. Couldn’t hear her over the roaring firestorm inside me.

Storm tried to summon her winds, pulling clouds thick with rain to douse the flames, but it wasn’t enough. Even the sky couldn��t hold back the inferno that had taken over me. I felt her power strain against mine, but my emotions fueled the fire, making it burn hotter, stronger. I was losing control completely, my body heating up like the core of a star.

“Y/n! You’re going to kill everyone!” Scott shouted through the comm, his voice barely audible over the roaring flames. I could see them, all of them, struggling to get away from the heat, the fire spreading in every direction.

Charles reached out, trying to touch my mind, but I was beyond reach. His calming presence couldn’t get through the thick walls of grief and rage that had consumed me.

I was going to burn everything. Everyone.

Then, through the haze of heat and fire, I saw him.

Logan.

He was moving toward me, slow and steady, ignoring the screams of the others as they begged him to stop.

“Logan, no! You’ll die!” Jean’s voice, frantic, but he didn’t listen.

“Logan, don’t!” Storm shouted, the wind whipping around her, but he kept walking, one foot in front of the other, his eyes locked on mine.

I couldn’t stop the fire. I was too far gone, too lost in my own power. The heat radiated off me in waves, scorching everything in its path, and yet he kept coming.

His skin started to blister almost immediately. The heat was unbearable, even from where I stood. I could see his face contorting in pain, could smell the sickening scent of burning flesh as he got closer. His clothes were already charred, the leather of his jacket melting and fusing to his skin. But he didn’t stop.

I wanted to scream at him to get back, to stop, but the words wouldn’t come. All I could do was watch in horror as he walked into the flames, his healing factor struggling to keep up as his body was scorched by the heat I was putting off.

And then he was there, standing right in front of me, his skin bright red, his hands trembling as the fire licked at his skin. His face was a mask of pain, sweat and blood mixing with the charred burns that covered his arms and neck. But his eyes, his eyes were steady.

“Y/n.” he said, his voice low and raspy, strained from the pain. “You need to stop.”

“I can’t!” I gasped, my breath catching as the flames flared up again, fueled by the storm of emotions inside me. “I can’t control it. I-I’m going to kill you, Logan!”

“I don’t care!" he growled, taking another step closer, his boots melting into the molten ground. His body trembled, his skin bubbling and cracking under the heat, but he didn’t back down. “I’m not leaving you.”

Tears streamed down my face, evaporating the moment they hit the air.

His eyes locked onto mine, unwavering, even as the flames licked at his skin. His face contorted in pain, but he didn’t stop.

“Bub.” he rasped, his voice hoarse from the heat. “You need to let go. I know it hurts, but you gotta stop.”

I couldn’t hear him over the roar of the fire. I was too far gone. The heat, the flames, my emotions - it was all consuming me. I was a supernova, and there was no pulling back.

Logan took another step. His healing factor was working overtime, but even he couldn’t withstand this for long. Yet, he didn’t hesitate.

“Y/n!” Logan yelled, louder this time, and I felt his words cut through the haze. “I know what it’s like! To lose someone - hell, to lose everyone! You feel like you’re gonna burn up inside. You feel like it’ll never stop, like you’ll never breathe again. But this ain’t the way!”

I felt the fire flare around me, almost as if it were trying to drown out his words. I wanted to listen, but the grief, the rage - it was still so raw. Bobby was gone. How could I stop the fire when everything inside me was screaming to let it burn?

But Logan didn’t back off. He stepped into the heart of the inferno, his arms opening, and wrapped me in a hug. The flames surged as they met his body, and I could feel his skin burning under my touch. I could smell it. His face twisted in agony, but he didn’t pull away.

“Let it out, hotshot. Let it all out,” Logan whispered, his voice softer now, almost tender. “But don’t burn yourself with it. You ain’t alone. I’m here.”

I could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly, his breaths ragged from the heat, but his arms around me were steady, grounding. In that moment, the fire faltered, flickering as my mind struggled to grasp what was happening.

Logan - the one person who could barely stand to be in the same room as me without a sarcastic remark - was holding me, burning alive in my fire, all because he wouldn’t leave me alone in my pain.

And then, I felt it.

The fire started to die down, the flames retreating into my skin as I began to sob against his chest. The heat that had consumed me so completely, so violently, began to ebb, leaving behind only the suffocating weight of grief. Logan’s chest was soaked with my tears as I clung to him, my body shaking with the force of my cries.

“I couldn’t save him, Logan." I choked out between sobs. “I couldn’t- ”

“I know." Logan murmured, his voice rough but soothing. “I know, bub. It’s not your fault.”

The last of the flames flickered out, and the air around us was suddenly cooler, still. Logan’s body, still blistered and burnt in places, didn’t move. He just held me tighter, letting me cry into his chest, never once letting go. I buried my face into the fabric of his ruined shirt, his heartbeat the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.

After what felt like forever, I became aware of the world around me again. The sounds of the battlefield had quieted. Jean, Storm, and the others were slowly approaching, their faces a mix of worry and relief.

“We need to get back to the mansion,” Scott said, his voice soft but firm. “Y/n, Logan… let’s go.”

Logan didn’t move to let me go, and I didn’t want him to. The thought of being alone right now, without the steady warmth of his presence, was unbearable.

“Can you walk?” Hank asked me.

Logan shook his head, giving a low grunt of pain as he stood up, still cradling me in his arms. “I got her.”

I felt Logan’s arms adjust under me as he began to walk, carrying me like I weighed nothing. I should’ve been worried about him, should’ve told him to let me go, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I pressed my face into his chest, feeling the burn marks on his skin, the roughness of his wounds. He was hurting because of me, but he didn’t care.

The journey back to the mansion felt like a blur, the sounds of the battlefield fading into silence as Logan carried me, step after step, his breathing labored but determined. I clung to him, my body exhausted, but my mind still racing with grief and guilt.

When we finally reached the mansion, Logan carried me straight to my room. He pushed the door open with his shoulder and laid me gently on my bed. His face was tense with pain, but his movements were careful and protective.

I reached out, grabbing his wrist as he turned to leave. “Don’t go... please.” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I-I don’t wanna be alone.”

Logan’s eyes softened, just for a moment. He gave a small nod and sat down on the edge of the bed, his weight making the mattress dip slightly. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to offer any more words of comfort, and for that, I was thankful. I didn’t need words. I just needed him to stay.

I curled into his side, my head resting against his chest once again. His heartbeat was slower now, more even, though his body was still warm from the burns. He didn’t flinch when I pressed closer, seeking the comfort of his presence. His arm wrapped around me, holding me close, and for the first time since Bobby died, I felt a small flicker of something like peace.

As I sobbed into Logan’s chest, my body exhausted from the emotional and physical strain, I felt his hand gently stroke my hair. He didn’t say anything, just let me cry. His presence as steady as the heartbeat beneath my cheek.

The tears slowly began to subside, my body relaxing into his as the exhaustion took over. I was grateful for the silence, grateful for the way Logan just was - strong, unyielding, and never pushing me for more than I could give.

Eventually, my eyes grew heavy, the grief and pain pulling me into a restless sleep. The last thing I remembered was the feel of Logan’s hand still in my hair, his quiet strength wrapping around me like a protective shield.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself drift into sleep, safe in his arms.

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

[perfectsunlight]

[24] NOW

warnings: mentions of underaged drinking, slight angst

ivory had only been to two “real” parties in her entire life. the first one was a celebration with the girls she had first debuted with. newjeans was just a project group, and everyone knew they would only last for two years, but they wanted to celebrate their accomplishments. the group had risen quickly in the industry, and this small, intimate gathering marked the close of an era for the girls. they laughed, danced, cried, and shared bittersweet moments of reflection over everything they'd achieved in such a short time.

jieun had been aware of the party. in fact, she was the one who picked jane up afterward, offering her a warm smile and a quiet ride home. there had been no interrogation, no disapproving looks—just an air of trust between them. jieun simply said, “i trust you to make smart decisions,” and that was the end of it. 

the second time was different. 

jane had just turned 17, and she was beginning to feel the pull of rebellion that came with adolescence and her mother’s absence. the industry had forced her to grow up fast, but there were moments when she longed to be just a regular teenager. when her friends invited her to a low-key gathering, it didn’t seem like a big deal. they weren’t throwing some wild, out-of-control party; it was just a small group having fun.

she slipped out of her grandmother’s house that evening, heart pounding in excitement and guilt. it wasn’t that she was trying to hide anything from jieun; it was just that she didn’t want the lecture that would inevitably come if her grandmother found out she was going to a party where alcohol would be present.

the night had been a blur of laughter, music, and one too many drinks. ivory wasn’t used to alcohol, and it hit her harder than she’d expected. she didn’t have a lot, but enough to make her feel lightheaded. she hadn’t planned on drinking, but the peer pressure from her friends had been harder to resist than she thought. 

one sip turned into two, and before she knew it, the glass was empty. by the time she realized how much she’d had, it was too late. she had no idea how long she’d stayed, only that it was well past curfew when she stumbled back home, trying her best to be silent.

but jieun had been waiting.

as soon as jane walked through the door, there was no hiding her disheveled state. her grandmother’s face had been a mixture of disappointment and concern, and the silence in the air was suffocating. without saying a word, jieun helped her to her room, tucked her into bed, and then made the dreaded phone call to jennie.

her mother had been overseas performing, and even halfway across the world, jennie’s response had been swift and disciplined. jane remembered the long-distance scolding she’d received the next morning as she nursed her hangover.

“how much did you drink?” her mother’s sharp tone had cut through the phone, startling ivory even in her groggy state.

"not a lot," ivory had mumbled, wincing as her headache throbbed. “maybe 3 i think?”

“you think?” jennie’s voice was sharp with disapproval. even through the phone, she still felt intimidated by the authority of her mother. “jane ivory kim.”

ivory froze at the sound of her full name. jennie never used it. she only did when she was really, really upset. from what she could remember, that was only the third time in her life that she had heard it. but she now knew there was no escaping this now.

“do you even realize what you’ve done? you’re not even 18 yet!” jennie’s voice was a mixture of anger and concern. “you’re supposed to be focusing on your career, on your future, and here you are—drinking? sneaking around like this? i expected better from you.”

ivory bit her lip, her hands trembling slightly as she held the phone. she knew she had messed up, but hearing jennie’s disappointment stung more than she could have prepared for.

“i’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice small. jennie’s sigh was long and heavy, frustration clear, but there was an undercurrent of something softer. 

“you have to understand that this world isn’t kind, especially to someone like you. you can’t afford to make these kinds of mistakes, ivory. one wrong step, and people will tear you apart.”

she knew her mother wasn’t just angry—she was scared. scared of what the public might say, scared of how one misstep could affect her daughter’s future. and jennie knew better than anyone how ruthless the media was.

the older woman had spent years mastering the art of survival in that world, but ivory—ivory was still so young. so vulnerable. and jennie would do anything to protect her from that, even if it meant that right now she was being a strict, overbearing mother.

needless to say, ivory never did anything of that nature ever again.

and now, here she was at her third “real” party—an afterparty in of the most famous clubs in paris. ivory walked through the doors as her sharp eyes took in her surroundings. 

—

jisoo stirred the cocktail in her hand, a thoughtful expression on her face as she glanced around the bustling afterparty. she’d been keeping an eye on jennie, noting the way her friend’s attention seemed to shift between the crowd and her phone. the air was thick with anticipation and excitement, and jisoo couldn’t help but be intrigued by the subtle tension she’d noticed earlier.

casually, she leaned closer to jennie, her tone light but with an undercurrent of curiosity. “oh yeah,” she began, taking a sip of her drink and surveying the scene. “you’ve got a clone running around. there’s this kid who looks like you, i saw her at the show.”

jennie’s head snapped up, her eyes widening slightly before she masked her surprise with a casual smile. 

“ella? you’ve met her before, we had dinner with her once.” 

the older one shook her head, giving a form of half smile. she took a sip of her drink before responding, changing her focus from the bustling bodies to her bandmate.

“i wasn’t talking about ella. there’s this new kid in dior, her name is ivory. she looks just like you.”

jennie quickly grabbed her drink and held it to her lips, pausing to speak before taking a quick swig.  “ivory? i haven’t heard of her. i don’t really pay attention to these new kids.” her tone was light and casual, almost a bit disregarding.

jisoo’s eyes sparkled with something jennie couldn’t quite name. she watched her friend smile at her before speaking once again. “well, it’s quite the resemblance. you should see for yourself. i was planning on introducing you anyway.”

jennie’s heart skipped a beat as she let out a chuckle of surprise. “oh, that’s really not necessary, jisoo.” 

the dior ambassador’s eyes shifted to the entrance of the club, watching as a familiar figure walked in. she placed her hands on the table and rose to her feet, flashing a quick smile to her younger bandmate.

“nonsense. i’ll go get her. stay here.”

there were very few things that made jennie kim feel genuine fear. sure, she got scared easily. but genuine fear?

there were only two things: the father of her daughter and the world finding out about ivory.

“hey!” lisa squealed as she took a seat next to jennie. the idol was snapped out of her thoughts by the noise, as well as the sight of the thai girl with an australian behind her.

“hi rosie, hi lisa.” she chuckled softly, trying to mask her anxiety as the two settled in beside her. “where’s jisoo?” the thai girl asked, her head on a swivel as she scanned the bustling scene. “i thought she was here?” 

“oh i think she went to the bathroom—” as if the universe ignored every plea in jennie’s body, jisoo reappeared, a bright smile on her face as she waved enthusiastically. “i’m back! and look who i brought!” she gestured to ivory, who was standing slightly awkwardly beside her.

“oh hey girls,” jisoo announced, grinning from ear to ear as she gently motioned towards the younger girl beside her. “this is ivory, she’s dior’s newest ambassador. i came to introduce her to jennie. don’t they look alike?”

ivory blinked, caught off guard. however, she remained silent, simply giving a small bow to the veteran idols in front of her. jennie felt a rush of heat to her cheeks, and before she could respond, lisa leaned forward, her expression intrigued as she examined the features on jane’s face. “oh wow, she really does look like you! what the hell?” rosé nodded in agreement, her eyes wide as she pointed a finger between the two. “she looks like you did when you were a trainee, unnie. are you two related?”

jennie let out a forced laugh, feeling a mix of pride and panic at the unexpected attention. “well—uh—”

before she could finish, jisoo jumped in, “of course they’re related! look at their faces!” she elbowed jennie playfully, adding a layer of humor to the situation. “there’s no way you two aren’t even cousins at least,” rosie mentioned, leaning back into the leather bench.

ivory, however, felt a bit overwhelmed by the scrutiny. “i don’t—”  she started, but the words faltered as her gaze drifted across the room. that’s when she spotted yuna in the distance, laughing and chatting with a group nearby. relief washed over her, and without thinking, she seized the opportunity.

“uh, i think i need to go say hi to my friend. it was nice meeting you all!” ivory blurted out, her voice rising slightly as she stood up from the table and quickly bowed before almost running over to yuna. the suddenness of her movement startled jennie, who watched wide-eyed as her daughter made a beeline toward her friend.

“wait—ivory!” jennie called out, but her daughter was already weaving through the crowd, determined to escape the spotlight. “see? she’s just like you!” jisoo teased, but jennie’s heart sank as she watched ivory disappear into the throng.

“give her a moment,” rosé reassured, her eyes following ivory’s retreating figure. “it’s a lot to take in.”

lisa nodded, her expression thoughtful. “yeah, she’ll be fine. just needs to catch up with her friends.”

jennie felt a mix of frustration and concern. she wanted to protect ivory, to shield her from the pressures that came with their family name, but she couldn’t help but feel that running away wasn’t the solution.

“maybe i should go after her,” jennie said, her instinct to protect kicking in.

“let her breathe,” jisoo said gently as she slid a new glass towards her friend. “it’s not like you’re her mother.”

jennie forced a laugh, but the comment struck a nerve. she was her mother, whether people recognized it or not. the idol fought the nerve to just tell it all, but she knew better than that. she settled back into her seat, trying to relax as she kept her eyes trained on her baby girl.

from her distance, jennie watched as ivory joined her friends. they were laughing, and for a moment, jennie felt a flicker of pride. she was happy her kiddo was enjoying the night. but then she saw a drink in ivory’s hand. given it was just a small glass of champagne, and jane was 18, it seemed harmless enough for her to let it slide.

jennie aimlessly engaged in conversation with her girls, but her gaze kept drifting back to ivory. the way she laughed with her friends brought a small smile to jennie's face, but there was a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach.

but then ivory raised her glass for another. jennie's heart raced. she didn’t want to overreact, but two drinks in one night—especially knowing her daughter’s alcohol tolerance was very low—made her uneasy.

“excuse me, i need to use the bathroom,” jennie said, standing up abruptly. she glanced at the other girls, who exchanged a few looks. jisoo in particular watched her bandmate’s figure disappear into the bustling crowd.

as she navigated through the sea of dancing people, jennie felt a surge of protective instinct kick in. her sharp eyes glanced around, making sure no one was too close to ivory. her friend group had gone off somewhere, leaving her daughter alone near one of the side bars with a shot of something that looked a bit too strong being slid her way. 

“ivory!” jennie shouted, her voice firm yet laced with concern. the bass and lights pounded through the air, but her voice cut through it all, sharp with a mother's authority. jane froze, her hand hovering just above the small glass that had been slid toward her. she glanced over her shoulder, wide-eyed, before jennie reached her, her expression tense.

“oh sh—”

“what do you think you’re doing?” jennie’s words were calm but underlined with urgency as she swiftly put a hand on her daughter’s wrist. “i’m just...drinking. it’s a party.” ivory said, her tone defensive and a bit sharp as she crossed her arms. she avoided her mother’s intense gaze, clearly caught off guard.

jennie’s grip on jane’s wrist tightened ever so slightly, but her voice remained steady, though now tinged with a bit of frustration. “you’re not just drinking, jane ivory. you’re eighteen, and that’s a shot,” she said, gesturing to the glass sitting on the bar. “do you even know what’s in it? do you even know who gave it to you?”

ivory rolled her eyes, pulling her wrist free from jennie’s grasp. “look, seriously? i’m not a little kid anymore. it’s just a shot.” she reached for the glass again, her fingers brushing the rim. “it’s not like i’m doing anything crazy.”

her mother’s heart raced, the protective instinct flaring up even stronger. jennie’s voice was stern but laced with genuine concern. “you think everyone here has your best interests at heart just because it’s a party?”

ivory hesitated, her hand still hovering near the glass, clearly torn between rebellion and the nagging voice of reason her mother represented. she glanced up at jennie, her jaw tightening. “you’re being dramatic.”

her fingers wrapped around the shot glass despite her mother’s strict warning. she lifted it halfway to her lips, her eyes daring jennie to say something else.

immediately, jennie’s hand shot out, wrapping around the glass, stopping it just short of ivory’s mouth. their eyes locked, a silent standoff. “you may be old enough to drink,” jennie said firmly, her voice unyielding. “but i am still your mother. and you will not disregard that.” she pried the glass from her daughter’s fingers.

the younger girl’s jaw clenched as jennie took the alcohol away from her grip. the tension between them was palpable, as it usually was. but this was different since they were in public. ivory looked away, clearly trying to rein in her frustration, her arms crossing tightly over her chest. “whatever,” she muttered under her breath, her tone simmering with resentment. 

“you don’t have to embarrass me like this.”

jennie, still holding the glass, placed it firmly back on the bar. she met ivory’s gaze with a mix of determination and understanding. “i’m not trying to embarrass you. i’m trying to protect you,” she said softly, though her voice held a steel edge. “you’ll understand one day.”

“just because you made mistakes at my age doesn’t mean that i will, too.” 

ivory whispered harshly, her eyes flashing with a mix of defiance and hurt. jennie’s expression softened, though her frustration remained. the words stung more than she wanted to admit, but she kept her composure. “i’m not saying you will,” jennie replied quietly, her voice gentle yet firm. “i just don’t want you to feel like you have to make the same choices to figure things out.”

ivory rolled her eyes, clearly feeling cornered. “i’m not a kid anymore.” the blackpink member sighed, knowing that pushing further wouldn’t help at the moment. 

“i know,” she replied, softening her tone further. “but just because you’re older doesn’t mean i stop caring.”

her daughter opened her mouth to retort but stopped as something caught jennie’s attention. a figure in the distance stood with their phone held up, the lens clearly aimed in their direction. jennie’s heart sank as she realized what was happening.

jennie’s eyes narrowed, and the familiar, uncomfortable feeling of being watched and judged washed over her. she stepped slightly in front of ivory, instinctively trying to shield her from the attention. 

“valentine, we need to leave,” she said, her voice now laced with urgency. the younger girl furrowed her brow, confused by her mother’s sudden shift in tone. this was her last night in paris, she wanted to have fun. 

“what? why? i don’t want to leave. why do you always ruin—”

“jane ivory kim.” her voice low but sharp, and the use of her full name sending a jolt of warning through the young girl. even jane knew she was stepping on a line she shouldn't cross.

jennie’s eyes held an emotion that even ivory, in her frustration, couldn’t quite place. it wasn’t just anger. there was something deeper, something that made ivory pause for a second longer than she intended.

ivory’s frustration flared again, but now it was tinged with guilt. she knew her words had been harsh, maybe even offensive. but she hated how her mother always seemed to interfere just when she wanted a little freedom. 

however, seeing the way jennie looked at her now, even in the dim lighting and harsh noise, something about it made her chest tighten.

jennie was struggling to hold back her emotions. she understood that ivory was at an age where she wanted to spread her wings, to experience life without constant oversight. but jennie had been through it all—she knew how quickly things could spiral out of control, especially in the public eye.

she knew jane didn’t mean what she said. at least, that’s what she kept telling herself so she wouldn’t have her heart shatter into a million pieces.

“i’m not trying to ruin anything, ivory. i’m trying to protect you,” jennie’s voice softened, though the urgency was still there. she took a deep breath, lowering her voice so only her daughter could hear. 

“there’s someone filming us. we have to leave. now.”

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CLOSED.

[zweiginator]

I (an anal girlie who can rarely find anal fics) owe you my life🙇‍♀️

Also we know patrick is an anal whore when it comes giving and recieving, weve all agreed art would get pegged but how do you think art would be fucking the reader, do you think hed be as into it as patrick or unsure but lose it when he feels how tight she is?

art is skeptical at first. i think you suggest it as a way to make perfect religious art feel better about things. its not really losing his virginity if he’s not having sex in the traditional sense. and he agrees, surprisingly. maybe just because he wants to do something so bad. he’ll feel better if there isn’t cognitive dissonance about it.

so you get his cock nice and wet. stroking him and peppering him with slobbery kisses as you take him down his throat. he’s thrusting into your mouth and he says he’s ready but he’s nervous about it.

he wants to see your face so he pushes into you in missionary. he’s slow because he doesn’t want to hurt you and you wince as he goes further inside you. grasping at the ends of his hair, the sheets—anywhere.

his eyes roll back and he slumps forward as he reaches the hilt. moaning and whimpering as his hips buck and he can’t help it—his body feels like it’s moving without his permission but even if he could control himself he doesn’t want to because it feels so fucking good. the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass, the lewd wetness of it all. cumming deep inside you because he doesn’t have to worry about it this way.

patrick almost spits his drink out when art tells him that he found a way to mess around without losing his virginity.

“art—“ he sets his beer down. “that’s so much wor—“

but art truly believes he’s a good boy. he’s a saint. patrick doesn’t want to ruin this for him. so he pats him on the back instead.

[wannabanauthor]

I want a slow burn BuckTommy fanfic.

And I mean slow burn.

I want them hanging out, grabbing a beer, going to the movies, and spending time with Eddie.

Then one day, Eddie asks Buck if he can drop something off to him at Tommy’s house. Buck knocks on the door when he gets there and is greeted by a shirtless Tommy.

Tommy says they’re sparring in Muay Thai, and Buck’s like “can I watch?” And then spends the entire time salivating over Tommy without knowing what he was feeling.

Buck convinces himself that he’s only admiring Tommy’s body because Buck is also a fitness enthusiast.

Then Eddie leaves, and Buck barely notices because he’s staring at Tommy.

Tommy is not an idiot. He knows when another guy is checking him out, but he thinks it’s better to let Buck figure it out on his own.

Buck has different plans though. He takes off his shirt and is like “teach me Muay Thai”.

Now Tommy is the one staring. Maybe he starts asking Buck about his tattoos and even touched one and asks if it hurt to get them, meanwhile Buck has to restrain a moan in his throat.

Tommy just raises an eyebrow and continues asking about the tattoos. Then they do some light Muay Thai training, and Buck takes a cold shower when he gets home.

He has a wet dream about Tommy that night, and he still doesn’t know what to do because he’s not into men, right? Everyone makes a strangled sound when a hot guy with a great body touches them, right? He also finds himself with an erection that refuses to go away. So he gets himself off, and near the end Tommy pops into his mind, and he comes harder than he ever has in his life.

A few days later, Buck’s leg starts acting up, so Eddie asks Tommy to check on Buck and see if he needs anything while Eddie has to work.

Tommy comes over with food and entertainment to take Buck’s mind off the pain. Buck is happy and grateful, and is also a spoiled princess and puts his legs on Tommy’s lap, and Tommy gives him a leg massage. To both legs. Maybe it turns into a full body massage to help Buck relax.

Buck is practically in love but doesn’t know how to deal with or even properly acknowledge his feelings.

Later on during a shift, Tommy and Buck get called to the same accident site. They work really well together, and the people they save tell Buck that his boyfriend is very good at his job, and he’s like “my what now?”

Tommy pretends not to hear anything, but he’s quickly losing control of patience and willpower. He wants to make a move so badly, but he doesn’t want to freak Buck out.

So one night, Buck is elbow deep in Tommy’s social media profile and comes across an old post of Tommy kissing another man and referring to him as boyfriend. When I say elbow deep, I mean he’s 3 years into Tommy’s post history.

Seeing Tommy with another guy makes Buck feel angry, but he refuses to acknowledge why. Until he sees Tommy and accidentally confronts him.

Like maybe they’re sitting on a couch, Tommy takes a swig of his favorite craft beer that Buck bought him, and Buck just blurts out “are you gay?”

Tommy doesn’t even choke in surprise. He just says yep nonchalantly.

And then…stay tuned for the next update. This might be a summary fic (my term for a fanfic that’s more an in depth summary rather than actual fleshed out fic).

I want to see how long I can go on without having them kiss. I want longing and yearning and sleepless nights. Wait, omg, what if there’s only one bed in their hotel room in Vegas. What if they get drunk and accidentally get married? They try to get it annulled, but Buck’s like “wait a minute, we get a tax break” and Tommy has to be like “I think that’s called fraud.”

There are so many ways I can drag this out.

[valsverse]

⠀(୨୧) 💭 ׄ ︵͡ HOW SWEET | L. VALDEZ

﹙💐﹚ in which：𝗁𝖾'𝖽 𝖽𝗈 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾. ── masterlist

leo shushed you from behind the tree, his fingers brushing softly over your lips as his mischievous grin widened. the campfire flickered and danced under his control, flames twisting into patterns that should be impossible—stars, pictures, and even soft bursts of color that swirled together into pretty gradients.

you couldn’t help it—your giggle escaped, muffled into his shoulder as you both watched the campers from behind your hiding spot. their faces were a mix of awe and confusion, eyes wide, trying to make sense of the fire’s playful shifts. leo’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, his breath warm as it ruffled your hair.

"how are they not catching on?" you whispered, barely holding back your laughter.

leo’s brown eyes softened, the firelight catching in them like tiny sparks. "maybe i’m just that good," he murmured, his voice low and teasing as he bit down on his lip to hide a smile.

you nestled closer, resting your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. his arm slipped around your waist, fingers brushing lightly against your side as he tried to suppress a smile.

the flames shifted again, this time into a glowing heart that flickered just a little brighter than the rest. you stared at it for a second, eyes softening at the sight. leo’s fingers intertwined with yours, his grip warm. “think they’ll catch on now?” you asked, voice softer.

"maybe," he said, his tone softer too now, the teasing fading into something warmer, more intimate. "but I kinda like it just being our secret."

you nodded, your heart catching into your throat as you glanced up at him. "yeah, me too."

leo tilted his head down to meet your eyes, the fire reflecting in them as he asked softly, "feelin' a bit better now?"

you smiled, knowing he had brought you out here just to make you laugh, to distract you from life's current events. "mhm," you mumble, feeling the lightness return.

suddenly, an idea popped into your head, and you whispered it to leo. he snorted, raising an eyebrow at you but grinning all the same.

"you're ridiculous," he muttered, but the way he narrowed his eyes in concentration meant he was definitely up for it. the fire flickered and shifted again, but this time the flames twisted into a series of bold, glowing words—words that had no business being anywhere near a campfire.

the two of you couldn’t hold it in anymore. your laughter spilled out, loud and carefree as the campers stared in shock.

"LEO VALDEZ!" one of them shouted, eyes wide in disbelief.

leo let out a low chuckle, pressing closer to your side. "well, they caught us," he said with a grin, completely unbothered.

©valsverse— do not steal, edit, or repost my works. plagiarism is prohibited.

[alastwhorez]

Forgive Me Father, For I Have Sinned

​† Pairing: Priest!Alastor x Reader

​† Summary: Alastor wants to save your soul

​† warnings: 18+, MDNI, mention of religion, masturbation, p in v, talk of oral, talk of masturbation, defiling a church, semi-public sex, public sex. Mention of Susan. I think that's everything.

​† An: I can't get priest Alastor out of my head. I'm working on turning this into a series. Will be linked when first chapter is out. Not proofread, possible spelling errors.

In your quaint little town, the old stone church stood as a beacon of solace and hope. The townsfolk often spoke of their new priest, Father Alastor, whose voice was as soothing as a lullaby and whose presence brought comfort to all who sought it.

You had been attending his services for months now, drawn not only by his inspiring sermons but also by something deeper, something you couldn’t quite name. Father Alastor’s kindness and wisdom had touched your heart, and you found yourself looking forward to each Sunday with a mix of anticipation and nervousness.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the church, you decided to go to confession. Your heart pounded in your chest as you entered the dimly lit confessional booth. You had a secret to confess, one that had been weighing on your mind for some time.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “It has been a month since my last confession.”

Father Alastor’s voice, calm and reassuring, came through the screen. “Speak, my child. What troubles you?”

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Father, I… I have developed feelings for someone. Feelings that I know I shouldn’t have.”

There was a pause, and you could almost feel his gaze through the screen. “Feelings are a natural part of being human,” he said gently. “Who is it that you have these feelings for?”

Your heart raced as you struggled to find the words. “It’s you, Father Alastor. I have a crush on you.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You feared you had crossed a line, that you had ruined the trust and respect you had built. But then, Father Alastor spoke, his voice soft and understanding.

“My child, love and affection are powerful emotions, and they can often lead us down unexpected paths. It is not a sin to feel, but we must be mindful of our actions and intentions.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you, but the weight of your confession still lingered. “I don’t know what to do, Father. I don’t want these feelings to come between us or to distract me from my faith.”

Father Alastor’s voice was filled with compassion. “It is important to acknowledge your feelings and to understand them. Sometimes, our hearts lead us to places we do not expect, but it is our faith and our commitment to our values that guide us.”

He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. “I am here to support you, to help you navigate these emotions. Together, we can find a way to honor your feelings while staying true to your faith.”

“Father, I have another confession” You say

“What is it my child?” He speaks voice smooth

“I have committed the sin of the flesh, Father”

He doesn’t speak for a moment. “Urges and temptations are natural child, it's what makes you human”

You wiggle in the confessional before turning toward the screen and gripping it with your fingers.

“It's all the time Father, all I can think about”

You hear a slight gulp and he pauses briefly.

“My child, there is nothing wrong with you. You just have to stay committed to your faith. God will lead you in the right direction.”

“But Father, I'm scared I won't be able to control myself. I think about it all the time, even now. And the man I imagine makes it so much worse. He isn't available for such acts. I shouldn't be thinking of him this way.”

“Child, could you give me a better understanding of these acts you speak of? Maybe I can be of more assistance if I understanding”

Your legs rub together thinking about admitting these things to Father Alastor. You suck In a breath before speaking in a low breathy voice.

“I-I touch myself Father—Down there. And I know I shouldn't but I can't stop. And the sin doesn't stop There Father. I want to do more. The man I think about. I want him to do things to me, to touch me in unholy ways”

You hear his breath hitch and you can slightly see him fidget behind the screen as you hear the sound of clothes rustling.

“There is nothing wrong with imagining things you can not have, child. It becomes a sin when you act upon these Urges. I would suggest removing yourself from this man until the urges and actions cease.”

“But Father, that Would mean missing Your sermon”

“My child, if it is someone at the church you can always come to a different sermon, or speak to me privately. I'm more than willing to help you.”

“I don't think that will work, Father. He will still be here. He's always here”

“If you don't mind my asking, child. Who might this man be?” his voice is filled with curiosity

You bite your lip. “Oh Father, it's you. I already admitted to my crush, but it's so much more. I want you, Father. I want you to do unholy things to me. When you are up there speaking all I can think about is you taking me right on pew or the altar. Hiking my dress up and having your way with me. I touch myself to the thoughts of you, Father Alastor.”

You hear him choke. He is quiet for several moments. So long that you speak up. “Are you alright Father?”

He clears his throat. “Yes, Yes I'm fine”

“What do I do, Father Alastor? Can you help me? I can't be having these unholy thoughts about a holy man”

Alastor thinks for a moment. What no one knows about him is that before he became a priest he committed several sins. So many he knows he will never be forgiven for, but this is something entirely different.

Alastor has watched the several months You have attended his sermons and he has grown quite fond of you, and he has to admit you are a very attractive woman. You have suitors constantly banging at your door, and you want him?

Alastor was never one For physical touch and sins of the flesh, never having found someone he deemed worthy of doing such acts with, but you. Oh you could his perfect little sock sleeve. He could mold you into the perfect little pet. Just as long as no one finds out about it that is.

“child could you describe these acts and thoughts to me so I may be of bigger assistance”

You let a sigh escape your lips.

“I dream of you Father, dream Of you touching me, fucking me, letting me suck your cock As you fuck my face.”

You hear the sound of clothes rustling then a zipper

“Keep going my child”

“I let my hands wander around my body. I pinch, squeeze, and rub all over—anywhere I can touch. I take my clothes off and do things to myself.”

You hear panting and Heavy breathing.

“How do you touch yourself”

“I lick my fingers to wet them, then i slip them into my panties, i start stroking myself, rubbing, gathering up my slick, before I start to rub my clit. Slow then fast. When I'm close I sometimes slip a finger in maybe two. I like to think they are yours.

You hear a bang as he throws his head back and hits it against the wall. “What do you wish to do to me?”

“I want to suck your cock. lip up from the base to the top before taking in my mouth, down my throat. I play with your balls and when you cum i swallow it all down, not wasting a single drop.”

His breathing is more ragged and the movement faster.

“Fuck”

“Father, did you just?”

“ fuck, fuck, fuck”

Alastor is Fisting his cock, humping into his hand as he imagines it's yours, or even your cunt. He's close but can't push himself over the edge.

“goddammit! Get over here”

And you do. You exit the confessional and look around the church. No one is paying attention. You open the door to his side and slip in. You gasp at the sight.

Father Alastor, pants down, cock in hand. It's leaking, dripping down his hand. He growls. The confessional is small. Only big enough for one person. He grabs your hand and pulls you on top of him. He lifts your dress up over your hips and pushes your panties to the side.

“Father, what are you—” He cuts you off

“I'm helping you over this sin my dear. Together we will find salvation.”

He pushes you down by the hip, sliding into you, stretching your walls. Your mouth falls open in pleasure as his falls back.

He grips your hips and starts grinding you on him, slowly. He bucks up into you every now and again.

“Oh, oh father” He slams his lips against yours in a heated kiss silencing you. Can't have anyone knowing he is defiling you in here.

His tough wrestles with yours. You moan into the kiss, hands gripping his hair. he slaps your ass and tells you to ride him. You bounce up and down on his cock. His hand slides down your body finding you bundle of nerves before his skilled fingers start to rub.

You feel heat start to build and so does Alastor. You throw your head bad cumming all over his sock, squeezing him as he shoots his load into you, milking his cock.

Your head falls onto his shoulder and he stroking your back and hair. He pulls out and puts her panties back in place before patting your Clothed cunt. “Don't waste any of it” you nod.

You both sneak out of the confessional undetected. He opens his mouth to say something when someone walks over.

“Father Alastor, you're needed upfront.” his eyes turn to slits and his grin tightens

“Of course, Susan. I'll be right there”

He walks past you, his hand sliding along your body. He leans down against your ear.

“Meet me in the parsonage after the last sermon. We still have work to do to save your soul from total damnation”

Series table of contents

[wittlesissyb4by]

Sweetie Todd

Men are soo desperate. It’s honestly a bit too easy. Do you know how many virgin losers I have at my disposal? They will do anything they can, just for a picture of my tits, anything for a bit of female attention. Take this little fairy for example. He dm’d me on Insta only a few weeks back.

‘Hey I like your pics.’ He said, ‘any way I can see you with the clothes off? 😏’

In the past, I would kick these pervs to the curb. Block, ignore, sometimes even report. But some were so desperate they actually offered to pay me. Just for a pic of my nips or even my feet. At first I declined, but times are tough, and a girl’s gotta eat, right?

So I let them. I’d let them cashapp me in exchange for a pic or two. It felt kind of dirty, but I told myself girls will do much worse for much less.

But they kept asking for more, instead of appeasing them, they kept asking for more. The money came in, sure, but I would quickly run out of content if I indulged them with every transaction. There's only so many ways to take a tit pic, and I refuse to subject myself to much more than that.

I quickly learned that if I strung them along, they would become even more desperate. One guy started to annoy me, becoming particularly pushy, so I told him to go fuck himself. Tell me why he literally sent me a video of him shoving a dildo up his ass less than 24 hours later?! It was gross, but that got me thinking...

If he was willing to do that just to see a pic of me, what else could I make these desperate little dorks do?

I told a guy to eat cat food, told another to fuck the crease of the couch cushions, even suggested to another that he stick his head in doo doo he found at the dog park.

They all did it. Every. Single. One. And they even paid me for the privilege!!

When I posted a video of a guy slamming a baseball bat between his legs and thanking me with every bash of his balls, the messages really started flooding in.

Men everywhere were begging to be dominated and, I'm not gonna lie, I kinda liked it. The attention was nice, my followers grew exponentially, and the money was pouring in. I didn't even have to show my tits anymore, just had to tell them to shove a tampon up their ass and keep it in for the rest of the day.

Virgin after pathetic virgin started subbing.

Eventually, my little 'tasks' for them became more and more devious. Buying and wearing a pair of panties was too easy. I wanted the full ensemble, and I wanted them to walk through their favorite sports bar with it on.

Some checked out at that point, but others, the most dedicated and desperate, stayed.

Then, I found it. One sub was being particularly whiney, so I suggested he go buy a pack of Depends diapers for being such a baby. He did, and it was the most hilarious thing I've ever seen. A grown man wearing nothing but a diaper and sucking on his thumb is truly a sight to see! Even better when you make them squat down and shit themselves. Even the most dedicated were absolutely broken at that point. It reduces them to nothing. I've taken control of everything at that point, all the way down to when and wear they use the bathroom. Yes, they now have to beg me (pay me) to poop their pampers. They have to pay extra if they want to cum, and they don't get to change their filthy diaper before they do.

This picture you see is of Todd. He's an investment banker. Todd originally messaged me for pictures of my feet and maybe a little domination here or there, I don't really remember. At this point, I don't really care. He got put through the ringer just like the rest of them. I do specifically remember him throwing a fit when he first had to wear the diaper. Or 'nappy', as he calls it, because apparently that's how they say it in Britain where he's from.

He told me 'no' at first. Said he'd never do it. That he was 'too much of a man' for that.

"Okay." was all I said, and left it at that.

Two weeks later, he'd sent me a pic of the nappies he bought. That's another thing I've learned too: when you push a guy's limits, he may resist at first, but eventually the horny/submissive brain always wins. They will do anything to please. Anything for a little attention.

But Todd didn't get to just wear diapers, no no. His dumbass tried to tell me he's 'too much of a man'. So now he gets to wear nothing but frilly dresses when he's at home. I randomly send check-ins to ensure he's doing as he's told. If not, he's punished. It's easy to get them to do what I want, because every day I just accrue more and more pictures/videos to blackmail them with if they refuse.

Todd got to suck his first dick the other day at some random truck stop! He swears up and down that he's not gay--and I actually believe him--but I also don't care. It's way too entertaining to see diaper dorks suck a dick for baby batter and thank me for it while they gargle it in their mouth.

One of my subs also let me in on a little thing called a 'chastity device', so guess what Todd will be putting on and sending me the key to? I'm sure he'll earn it back at some point. Three, maybe six months from now, I'll mail it back to him. If he's a good baby gurl, that is...

~~~~~~~~

Image Source: frilledpansy on imagefap

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[wilygryphon]

For the record, I still think that Adrien's advice to Marinette was good, given what he knew and believed at the time, and that letting her continue as she was in Chameleon would have ended badly for her. Lila was easily able to explain away every inconsistency that Marinette pointed out in her stories, and her switching which side has Tinnitus is easy enough to explain away. If she'd continued harping on that, Marinette would have just looked crazy and very ableist.

In addition, Adrien didn't know that Lila was actively malicious, he just thought she was lying in order to put herself in a better position to make friends with the class. She hadn't actually done anything clearly malicious until she threatened Marinette in the bathroom, and Adrien never knew about that. If Marinette HAD told him then maybe they could try and figure something out together, but even then, catching Lila in a way she can't wriggle out of is hard. As things were, I don't think Adrien's advice hurt Marinette at all, and did help keep her from doing things that enabled Lila to damage Marinette's reputation further.

No, yeah, 100%. He still doesn't know about the bathroom threat, but when he recognized that she was malicious, he took action (Ladybug). At the time, his advice did get Marinette to dial it back when she really wasn't doing herself any favors. And he was doing damage control for Lila too: he didn't know that she was willingly Akumatized, and he assumed that being accused of lying and him asking her to stop lying got her Akumatized, so he wanted to let it resolve itself instead of humiliating her and causing her to lash out again.

[dr-spectre]

RANT POST ABOUT CALLIE AHEAD!!!

I need to get some old and built up feelings out of my chest before i explode into a trillion pieces, if you do not wish to see a LONG rambling about me getting mad and rageful about this important character to me then by all means skip over and have a good rest of your day or night!

If you can handle me getting a bit pissed off and mean then keep on reading!!

This will also be a VERY LONG POST!!! Because I have a lot to rant about. Some of it i have talked about before many times but i need to talk about them... Again..

So anyways. If you wanna move on, that's okay, if you wanna stick around? That's all good as well!!! I highly HIGHLY encourage you to read all that I have to say. Okay? Thank you!

You know, as someone who has put in a lot of time and research into Hypno Callie and the others. What I've come to notice in media is that people tend to use the words mind control, brainwashing, hypnosis, influence, indoctrination, corruption, all interchangeably despite each word having vastly different meanings and connotations and effects.

Brainwashing has been used as an incorrect word to describe a lot of these kinds of plots in TV, movies, games, etc. and it really bugs me personally. Like, if you see something as clearly hypnosis, they explain that it is hypnosis and there is a hypnotic element at play here, you cannot just slap the word brainwashing onto it. It's like if I called a mango an apple you know? Or if I showed you a squid and you called it an octopus and you were REALLY adamant that it's an octopus.

Another example, if there's mind controlled zombies that are being controlled by aliens or something, slapping the word hypnotised or brainwashing onto that scenario is stupid because they clearly explained it in the story with evidence that it's straight up direct mind control and nothing else.

This doesn't just to apply to Splatoon btw, this annoyance goes for every other time a "mind control" plot has occurred in fiction.

I don't wanna sound rude here, I really don't! But guys, do you realise that we have this cool thing all across the world called a language? And languages have words in them!!!! And words have meanings in them that are brains understand and interpret!?

If I say the word "fluffy" what do you think of? "Fluff, fur, cute, huggable, adorable." You think of cute fluffy things, yeah?

If I say the word "hypnosis" what do you think of? A trance like state, a weird altered state of consciousness, maybe even a weird sleep/flow state?

If I say the word "brainwashed" what do you think of? Cults, militarily, experiments, evil, etc.

You guys see why I take issue? You guys see why I am extremely picky and laser focused on people's word choices when it comes to Callie and what happened? You guys see why I get really angry when people who do fuck tons of research into the events of Splatoon forget that languages exist and fail to see things past a fucking Wikipedia article?!? Is it seriously THAT hard for some people to say hypnotised?

I don't even necessarily blame most people for the words that they use, they don't know any better! And you know what? That's okay! I don't wanna get mad at SOME people since that word has been used incorrectly in media for a long ass time. And you wanna know another reason why i don't blame the casual fan or someone not in the know that much too? Because even the SPLATOON DEVELOPERS use brainwashing to describe Callie which is just... from my research and posts, incorrect.

I have yet to find a single person who can confidently explain to me that Callie was actually brainwashed and provide evidence to me to prove their points. Cause all I see is people just saying that "oh, a wiki and an artbook said so, so it must be true." Instead of looking at the actual game and looking at Hypno Callie's personality, behaviour, actions, etc. and comparing them to regular Callie.

Why do you think 99% of people call her Hypno Callie? Like there's a reason as to why her name is that in most circles... Have you ever talked to someone who calls her brainwashed Callie? Probably not...

God... I'm really sorry if i come off as some gatekeeping fan or elitist snob or some shit. I'm not trying to be and i don't wanna be like that. I wanna educate people, make people think of a different perspective and make people think a little more you know?

I'm just getting tired of it all... It affects how I see Hypno Callie and the events of Splatoon 2. I can't enjoy it when some people throw out these certain words, and it makes me feel so sad and terrible. And not in an engaging way, just a sadness that fucking stings my chest and I'm SO SICK OF IT!!!!!

I just despise this notion in the Splatoon community, Inkipedia, YouTube videos, social media and official sources that Callie was kidnapped out of the blue when she was alone and Octavio forced the shades onto her, brainwashing her and removing her memories. I hate it so much. It's something that truly fills me with great sadness and pain and pure anger. Callie is a comfort character of mine and to hear that scenario for her in official canon is just... no. I can't accept it. I refuse to accept such a vile and awful thing. It makes the Octarians more evil and way less sympathetic that way too, it makes DJ Octavio's eventual redemption make less sense because in one game he's this fucking monster and the next he's like "Hey guys imma help you out!" It makes his character incredibly inconsistent at that point.

it makes his appearance with Cuttlefish at the Grand Fest feel less satisfying because there this huge black spot on his character from Splatoon 2 where he apparently did something truly evil and unredeemable. Why would Cuttlefish be okay with standing next to a man who """kidnapped and brainwashed"""" his grand daughter?! I don't care about their history together, if i was Cuttlefish and I heard about that kind of event for my grand daughter, I WOULD NEVER FORGIVE OCTAVIO!!!

Hypnosis by nature is less evil and has more nuance and agency for Callie and the Octarians. Sure it's still fucking bad but not as extreme and dark as brainwashing is. The two terms are so vastly different and using either word willy-nilly is extremely annoying and frustrating to me.

Hypnosis ≠ brainwashing and you cannot prove to me otherwise. You literally cannot mind control someone with hypnosis, that's not how it works. They are so opposite of each other it's actually insane. I DON'T GET WHY PEOPLE USE THEM INTERCHANGEABLY ALL THE FUCKING TIME?!?! WHY?!?!!? Is it a lack of knowledge?!? Lack of caring?! Is it because of how hypnosis is portrayed?!?!

And the whole "Callie was kidnapped/abducted." My god... Do people understand what words are coming out of their fucking mouths?

Callie was more than willing to join the Octarians and she said to them "okay fine I'll hear you out." That is not KIDNAPPING!!!!!!!!!! THAT STATEMENT MADE BY CALLIE GOES AGAINST THE DEFINITION OF THE WORD!!!!

I don't know why they say this in some official sources either, i don't know why Inkipedia lists it on their pages. i don't know why fans keep wanting to push this idea that Callie was kidnapped, is it because an artbook said so and nothing in the game? I don't know why timeline explainers and people who do a fuck ton of research into Splatoon push it too. If Callie was kidnapped you figure she would mention it. But she doesn't!!!! Marie does and says she was brainwashed in the North American (NoA) localization, but of course she would think that and from her perspective she would figure that is the case from her limited knowledge of what happened to Callie.

God I just.... I hate it when people say Callie was brainwashed. I fucking despise it. It makes me so violently angry and upset and EVERYONE WHO HAS A LOUD VOICE IN THE COMMUNITY SAYS IT!!!

This doesn't even impact just Callie. It impacts the entirety of the Octarians as a species and DJ Octavio too. I LIKE DJ OCTAVIO!! I THINK HE WAS FUNNY IN SPLATOON 1! I like his role in Splatoon 3 and how he redeems himself and how he appeared in the Grand Festival with Cuttlefish. It ties back to before the Great Turf War when the Inklings and Octarians were on good terms and now finally that peace is back....

But this enjoyment... this appreciation of his character growth gets ruined because of the shit Nintendo did and what the fanbase did when Splatoon 2 rolled around... I can't enjoy Octavio as a character anymore because of the notion that Callie was brainwashed by him.

I can't look at his inkipedia page because IN THE FIRST PARAGRAPH THEY SAY HE BRAINWASHED HER!!!!

And don't you EVEN MENTION the line "I remixed Callie's brain!" My brother in Christ, that is not only a call back to a line he said in the final boss of Splatoon 1, but it's also because DJ Octavio is a.. idk... DJ!!!! A DISC JOCKEY!!!! In the NoA version of Splatoon, Octavio's personality is very loud and in your face, compared to his more sinister and intense personality in the European and original Japanese versions. This serious personality was only given to Octavio finally in the NOA version of Splatoon 3 ROTM where his personality actually matches his Japanese and European versions from Splatoon 1 and 2.

Octavio says puns and musical terms to describe shit in the NoA versions of Splatoon 1 and 2. Remixing by definition is taking a song and altering it to make something new. What is Hypno Callie? A REMIX OF CALLIE!!!! It's Callie but she's more aggressive, emotional and impulsive. And you know where we've seen this remix of Callie before? IN SPLATOON 1!!!! IN THE SPLATFEST DIALOGUE!!!!

Octavio didn't literally mean that he "remixed her brain." via actual brain, washing. He just means that he gave Callie a new twist, and Callie in her hypnotic state was like "okay fine I'll hear you out."

Octavio hypnotising Callie who wanted to help the Octarians anyways out of her own free will, planting suggestions into her head that SHE HERSELF ACCEPTED AS DURING HYPNOSIS, SUGGESTIONS GIVEN CANNOT GO AGAINST THE PERSON'S MORALS AND IDEOLOGIES!!! So that Callie would be more likely to stay in Octo Canyon and not decide to suddenly run off as Callie was under a lot of mental distress and emotion from her busy and lonely life, and allowing Callie to put her influence onto Octo Canyon to help his people and boost motivation, fits more in line with Splatoon as a series and Octavio as a character than the whole "he brainwashed Callie" bullshit that has plagued the internet for 7 years and continuing. Why do you think Callie is so chill to see DJ Octavio come back in Splatoon 3 huh? Why do you think she misses shaven Octarians in ROTM? Why do you think she calls Octarians cute? Hmm... I WONDER WHY?!?!?!

Is Octavio still bad? Yes! Did he use Callie to benefit his people? YES!!!! Was Octavio being manipulative and selfish? FUCK YES!!! HE'S THE ANTAGONIST!!!! I AM NOT RESOLVING THAT MAN OF BLAME!!!! DONT GET MY WORDS TWISTED!!! HE'S STILL BAD! just not unredeemable... because once you say he brainwashed someone and forcefully removed Callie's memories like a pure evil monster, then you have a character who is pretty much unredeemable at that point. You have made him cross a line that he can't turn back from. You implanted these disgusting and disturbingly sexual suggestions about Octavio and Callie and her outfit. Why the FUCK do you want that? Why?! Why do you wanna even suggest the idea that Callie was forced to wear skimpy clothing against her consent and knowledge? Do you know how fucking DISGUSTING AND EVIL THAT IS?!?!?! FOR A SERIES SUCH AS SPLATOON?!?!?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA ON WHAT YOU ARE TRYING TO FUCKING IMPLY HERE?!?!?!

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!?!?! GOD!!!! WHY DO YOU WANT THESE AWFUL THINGS DONE TO CALLIE AGAINST HER KNOWLEDGE AND CONSENT IN THE MAIN TIMELINE!!??!?!?!?!! For AUs I get it, it's your right as a fan to make fanfiction and explore darker topics. I personally won't read it but I won't EVER stop someone from making a darker AU. It has its place in the community and I 100% respect it with all of my heart. I truly respect those who make dark AUs and darker takes on Splatoon because I'm sure it's fun and interesting for some people. To each their own! I actually like hearing my friends talk about Fuzzy AUs and stuff like that, given the time and place, darker toned AUs are something that i find really interesting but I'm not super duper in love with them.

But don't you DARE put these disgusting and sexual undertones about Callie and the Octarians in the main canon. Fuck off. Don't you even try and suggest that the Octarians are this purely evil race that forced Callie into a revealing outfit while she was completely unaware and it was against her consent. And that they just grabbed her... god... Jesus Christ man. Fuck. I hate thinking about that so much dude.

This type of scenario that people push did NOT happen.

THIS DID!

I'm so angry. I'm so sorry for this giant humongous rant. I care a lot about Callie. I only want the best for her. I only want a more engaging and more in-depth take on Splatoon 2. I want to enjoy Tidal Rush, I want to enjoy Spicy Calamari Inkantation, I want to enjoy Fresh Start, I want to enjoy the Bomb Rush Blush remix like how i enjoy Unconscience by Marina Agitando. I want to enjoy Hypno Callie in general, BUT SOMETIMES I JUST CANT AND I GET SO SAD AND MY CHEST HURTS!!!! This has been going on FOR SOOO LONGGG!!

I keep making all these posts about Callie because I still see that kind of bullshit being thrown around. Imagine having a perspective on a character you really love and you try and hold on to it. But everyone else around is pushing that perspective down and you feel so sad and stupid and ridiculous... And so your only option left is to scream and bark and yell....

I am literally gonna keep ranting until I can see the word "brainwashed" in media without having a fucking heart attack. I wanna just be able to enjoy Callie's arc and see it for what it truly is...

A story about two cousins drifting apart... Callie becoming so popular and famous... and lonely... that she became so mentally distraught and overthought everything. She did something incredibly irrational. She went to Octavio and the Octarians. Octavio knows that Callie can be a huge help to him after his loss and so he enlisted her help. And she just said, "okay, fine."

She was given hypnotic shades by Octavio in order to keep her more under control as she was ridden with mental illness and could leave Octo Canyon at any point with her overthinking. But he did NOT put her under total control and brainwash her, he needed Callie's influence for the Octarians, to decorate bases and add her touch into their music. The Octarians became happy and more motivated then ever. He didn't need a drone to help him. He needed, CALLIE.

However... Callie, in the canyon, lost herself, she gave into bitterness, hatred, sadness, anger... She knows who she is, but her memory is so cloudy and muffled by emotion and the shades... She needs help... Proper. Help. You can hear it in the songs found within the Octo Canyon, her reversed vocals sound so sad and deeply emotional...

When Marie arrives, Callie is mad at her, she wants nothing to do with her. But when Marie shoots the shades off of her, Callie is still dazed, upset, emotional, sick, she dances and continues to sing back against Marie's desperate words and pleas... Marie only wants to repair their broken relationship and lend out a hand to her cousin who needs to see the light....

But, when that heavenly melody echoed in that stadium, it was like a rushing tide of memories and feelings flooded into Callie. All of her and Marie's time performing, hosting news, celebrating Splatfests, and arriving to Inkopolis for the first time, came back to her and dispelled the darkness in her heart.

Callie heard the melody and went "wait... This isn't me! What am i doing!? YEAH! I REMEMBER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

And well... The rest is history, the pair healed their relationship over the course of a few years and are stronger than ever.

They fulfilled their fresh start, they helped redeem an angry vengeful man from the past, they inspired the present with Off the Hook, and they planted the seeds for the future in Deep Cut.

and they won the Grand Festival... TOGETHER!

Well... At least that's MY interpretation on things ;). And i want my interpretation to be held strong in my head... I'm tired of getting chest pains man... I'm tired of feeling this sadness and pain... I'm tired of going on Inkipedia and seeing that FUCKING word. I'm tired of being scared to watch YouTube videos focusing on lore and the story of Splatoon because deep down i KNOW they will say that word that has such fucking horrible connotations and meaning behind it...

Anyways. I think I'm done. I think I'm just in a huge ranting mode and I had to get it out, my autism was really acting up and i wanted to vomit this stuff out of me. I hope you guys feel what I'm feeling and if you have a character who you feel similar towards, let me know! Let the anger out. Okay?

Have a Callie for sticking around and actually reading. You're amazing.

[failyaoi]

KIMIKO LORE ADVANCEMENTS… WHO CHEERED

Starting off we have her powers: 

I decided I wanted her powers to be …witchcraft? I’m not sure what the exact word for it is, but it’s like necromancy, just for spirits/souls. She can summon spirits and once they are in her control they’re a greenish-teal colour (diff from ermac) ! It works more like commanding them rather than being completely mindless under her control. She can see other spirits pretty much at all times.

(to me this is Johnny and Kenshi’s powers combined [hence the power colour] , I can’t explain how but it makes sense to me LMFAO) 

she tends to summon a monster spirit quite frequently by accident, (as seen in the picture) but eventually finds out he just keeps coming back because he lovesss herr aww awwww

Her powers come with negative effects like spirits attaching themselves to her, which can cause her to become withdrawn from other people and unable to summon other spirits if the spirit becomes negative.

She isn't very good with her powers and WANTS to get better she just doesn't really know where to start especially since neither one of her parents have the exact same powers. Maybe she gets taught by a certain character ?

other than that, I think she would like to use long-range guns and to kinda stay in the back with her range in fighting rather than go head-first with her fists

now for the sad part

As much as it pained me to do so I wanted to expand on a mk1 ver of her 😭😭 I REFUSED to make her Kenshi’s cousin or niece or WHATEVER they would’ve done to her so I decided to make her from the future which was my original theory for Takeda- she’s from a future where whatever bad guy wins and now the future is just the worst thing possible. She was raised by just Sonya as Kenshi and Johnny died in that future after she was born, which is why she’s more shy/reserved in this timeline. She had worked with Liu Kang from her time to send her back so she could attempt to fix the future, and who knows if she’ll be successful or not she can only do so much !! it’s kinda depressing to think about but it’s really the only thing I can think of ;-;

OK THAT'S IT FOR MK1

For mk11….I just want her to be independent, and follow in Kenshi's footsteps on taking solo missions. I haven’t thought too much about it yet but she definitely gets really good at witchcraft and maybe gets into some trouble in outworld.

Some extra doodles vvv

I love you Kimiko Blade

[valentine-cafe]

Hi there! I normally walk just past this place, but something smelled particularly good. The croissant, maybe? Chocolate? (Dark content, smut)

Yeah so like this is a bit of a weird ask and I know that... but the aesthetics of your page just made me think of an enigma whose body was like that of taffy? Squishy, soft, sticky, and most importantly, stretchy. I was thinking reader would be a man, who was working for the Resistance but ended up in the clutches of some very nefarious people.

Maybe they can start out with just invasive physicals, but it slowly worsens and... yeah. Do as much as you feel comfortable with, please!

Yours truly, Hush~

. ˚◞♡ 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝒙 𝒃𝒕𝒕𝒎 𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ꒰ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒏𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 ꒱◞ ₊˚

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ 209 jingyi / bttm male reader ꒱ you caught the mad doctor's eye. he hated the idea of feeling attracted to an experiment. and no matter how much he tried to sate it, he needed to get his hands on you

𖹭. content warnings◞  dark content . experimentation on reader . implied torture . dub con . mind control . explicit content . rough sex . penetrative sex . 0.7k

𖹭. receipts◞  glad that you decided to stop by dear customer<3 one croissant coming up! this honestly was so much fun to write and quickly became my favourite request because I have been itching to write some dark stuff with the herrera husbands<3

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔 ꒱ m.list . guidelines . characters . lorebook ⊹ ۪ ࣪ 

𖹭. the mad doctor of valence has certainly seen many peculiar enigma around, but you by far were quite the special case. he is well aware of the classification of “body morphers” under the enigma hat, but you caught his eye in quite the special way.

𖹭. jìngyí had seen you around his brother a few times. he was uncertain why the depths of his soul burned with bitterness. he assumes it was the idea of an enigma type being out there that he had not quite explored. in reality it was you. the fact that a lowly enigma had sparked his interest in a way he never thought it would.

𖹭. he was disgusted, yet thrilled. like a snake eager to sink its fangs into new prey. one can imagine his excitement when his husband admitted to the same dark desires.

𖹭. lucky them. you’d found yourself caught in the last hunt and now found yourself along an examination table. jìngyí did well in exploring your limits. how far your body could go. viscosity? durability? compressibility, torsion, extensibility and temperature? oh he was salivating like a kid in the candy store.

𖹭. he especially loved the way that you would scream. how your voice would change depending on the shape and condition your elastic body was in. he found himself especially fascinated with how you’d cry when his hand would bury into your squishy side or around your sticky neck. even your tears tasted sweet.

𖹭. no matter all his experiments, he couldn’t rid himself of those dark desires that plagued his very being. so what better than to offer you a place in his circus? to perform, to live - while he induced you with a mind control mechanic?

𖹭. oh how you begged for him. how he adored the way your body would wrap around him and cling like a lovesick fool while he pounded your tight, gummy walls. one strong arm wrapped around whatever amalgamation your figure took while the other palmed at your squishy ass.

𖹭. you felt amazing. his mind would swim with pleasure every time his thick cock buried and throbbed into your warmth. he’d cream you so many times an over. it mattered how much or how long he fucked you over whatever surface he could find — he’d always end up cum drunk.

𖹭. jìngyí would be in a state when you started wrapping around him more intensely. extending your hands to provide him more pleasure as well. he’d bite down on whatever soft, messy flesh he could and buck his hips into yours like a feral animal.

“god you are so tight,”

a pant. a ragged groan. snake pupils constrict and his lips part. displaying fangs extended and blood on his tongue. soon to be more when he buried his cold face into your chest and bit again.

“h-hngh fuck -” your hand reaches to cling onto his hip. feel the way that he’s pounding your poor ass raw. filling it to the brim and fucking out his cum onto your thighs from the sheer intensity of his thrusts.

“d-don’t stop - dontstopdontstopdont -”

you choke out when strong fingers squeeze around your dick. a calloused thumb rubbing messy circles around your tip.

“you are disgusting.” the deep hiss finds your ear. followed by a hiccupping moan. his brows crease and he messily thumps his hips against yours as he tenses and squirts your walls white once more.

“d-disgusting little creature. but ah, d-damn. . . do you feel so good.”

he’d hoist you up. twisting your limps into whatever way he wishes as he presses you up against the examination table and goes for a third round. a fourth. a fifth. anything to ease this insatiable sweet tooth.

𖹭. taglist◞ wanna join the taglist? fill out this form

𖹭. remember◞ you make a writer's day every time you like, reblog and/or comment on their piece. if you enjoyed my work, please considering doing so<3

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒔 ꒱ tip jar . masterist ⊹ ۪ ࣪

[enm-enthusiast]

Birthday Buzz

I want to give special thanks to @suitedwestend for helping me develop quite a few of the ideas and erotic turns of this story. Thanks for being such a great source of inspiration, and I hope to strip you naked in-person someday! ;)

Here's a short little ENM story for you all, I wanted to do a few side projects before ultimately returning to my main series, and hey, if this does well I may make it a separate ongoing series. I've always wanted to do a CYOA-style series, and I'd like to think this one would fit that roll, but lmk what you all think, and please, enjoy!

Mark

Mark and Adrian were happily married husbands who were both in their early-thirties, Mark was turning 33 today while Adrian was fast approaching 35 in just a few months. Mark was a tall, muscled bear with a bit of facial hair that he kept neatly groomed, had black hair and bright green eyes. His office clothes always clung on to him tightly because of his big, beefy frame yet he kept himself in good shape, especially his glutes as he had a magnificent bubble butt that sometimes earned him a leering stare or two at the office. Adrian however, was a shorter, lean otter with blonde hair and blue eyes. 

They met in their early twenties at a gay bar and have been inseparable ever since, and got married five years ago, but occasionally they’ll ask a third to join them in the bedroom. That’s just the thing about these two, they’re Kinky with a capital K, into all sorts of scenes. A few in particular that the two had been trying out lately were ENM and Control Toys…

You see, big tough Mark had a shameful little secret…he was a total sub, and was often Adrian’s submissive slave, completely under his husband's control. 

Nowadays, Adrian had been ‘forcing’ Mark to strip naked outside, even streak across their neighborhood at night sometimes, and sometimes threatened to shave off thick Mark’s body hair. As embarrassed and humiliated he often felt at being so exposed…it gave him such a hard-on, his uncut cock often swinging at full mast between his legs as he streaked. 

This brings us to the couple’s latest adventure, however, because Adrian had bought his husband a remote control vibrator for his birthday today, and made him try it out right before Mark had to leave for work…He was almost late because of how lost he got in the pleasure of Adrian making him beg to make the toy buzz inside his ass.

Even now, at work, the mere memory of it made Mark feel a slight stirring in his crotch, which made his face flush red and he instinctively bowed his head closer to his desk to keep anyone from seeing his embarrassed, yet aroused state. Mark silently cursed however, as there was one problem with doing just that…the toy was still inside of him.

It was off, of course, but Adrian had ordered Mark to keep it inside him all day at work, and that he had better not cum before getting home in just a few hours now, promising to show his husband just how grateful he’d be if he did as he was told. Mark couldn’t help but feel a shiver down his spine as he remembered how his husband had leaned in close to his ear and whispered “good boy” right as he was heading out the door. Mark had almost got on his knees right there and then to beg for Adrians cock in either his mouth or his ass, but he managed to keep it together, after all, he had a party to attend at work.

His party, in fact, for everyone at the office had put together a small celebration for him during the last half hour of work today, and he knew they’d be devastated if he missed a second of it. Mark worked in a small office department, made up mostly of men except for management who were all on vacation for the next three days. 

Mark just had one hour left now, he’d celebrate with the guys at the office then head straight back home to his husband, his cock began to throb to near full hardness in his tight office pants thinking about worshiping his husband's cock, maybe even stripping naked outside again?

Snap out of it! You're not 25 anymore, act like it! Mark said to himself, shaking off his arousal as best he could and finished up his closing paperwork. 

As soon as he was done, he looked towards the office clock and saw that the party started in just a few minutes, and he smiled as he got up. Mark’s cock had finally deflated, though his pants still felt strangely tight, especially around his famous bubble butt, he merely shrugged it off, however, and he strutted towards the main office, fully confident he had everything under control…but did he?

Adrian

Adrian smiled to himself as he knew the party would be starting any minute now, and he looked away from his watch towards the remote of the toy he had made his husband keep inside him as he left for work this morning. Adrian knew and understood his husband often more than Mark did, and suspected, no he knew that Mark secretly enjoyed it whenever Adrian made him strip outside, or rather made him expose himself publicly. Thus, as he prepared to hit the switch for the remote, Adrian knew that his hubby would get his biggest thrill yet as he attempted to deal with the embarrassment of having a vibrating butt plug make him hard in front of his entire office!

Adrian’s own 6-inch penis began to harden in his pants at his husband's ordeal, and his smile never left his face as he turned on the remote, waited for it to connect to it over WiFi, and once the light turned green he pondered which setting to start at…

The remote had three settings: Low, Medium, and High. Adrian had only used the Medium setting this morning and it made Mark near delirious with how good it felt inside him…so he thought why not start small? his fingers didn’t hesitate to hit the Low setting button, and eagerly awaited his husbands return with the results.

Mark

Mark had been chatting with his office buddies, Jake and Bobby, when he nearly lurched over as he felt a familiar buzz coming from…

Oh no.

The buzzing didn’t stop either, it started as a low hum that was now rising to a sensual buzz, and it took everything Mark had to not moan as he felt his hole contract around the plug. His face began to redden and blood was flowing elsewhere too and Mark panicked as he could feel his cock hardening quickly.

“Hey Mark, everything okay?” Jake asked.

“Yeah, you were talking about you and Adrian possibly adopting kids in a few years, then suddenly you looked like you just saw your parents having sex or something” Bobby said.

Jake and Bobby were around the same age as Mark, and had known them since his freshman year in college, entering this office together, they were his best buds. As far as Mark knew, Jake was straight, but Bobby he knew was bi, they had a brief altercation in senior year when they were both drunk, and Bobby had sucked Mark’s cock, and Mark had even fucked Bobby. Neither of them spoke of that night again, yet Bobby still desired Mark from time to time, but kept it to himself because he knew Mark was married. If only he knew the opportunities before him…

“Oh…ummm. Yes! Yes i'm fine, I’m perfectly fine” Mark said, fumbling over his words as he used his hands to steady himself between two cubicles, as the buzzing from the toy continued to torment and pleasure him. He shifted his hips to try and hide his now raging hard-on, which was stretching his already tight pants to the limit. Mark should have asked his husband for some new office pants, but he liked how the tight clothing showed off his bubble butt…

He was certainly paying for it now, Mark thought to himself as his friends shared a concerned glance between each other.

“Are you sure you're okay man? I’ve never seen you like this before, if you're not feeling well we can take you home, so come on, just tell us what’s wrong” Bobby said. Mark’s friend was an average man who often went to the gym with his buddies, and was a tad darker with a caramel skin tone than the others yet had a defined physique, and was uncut just like Mark was. He had brown hair and hazel eyes, which were currently furrowed underneath his brow as he started worriedly at his friend.

“Guys, I’m telling you, I’m fine, okay?” Mark said, managing a steady, confident tone with a hint of finality to it that seemed to satisfy them…for now.

Meanwhile, Mark glanced at the clock and he still had another 15 minutes before he could leave, he downed the rest of his drink in one gulp and tried to compose himself as best he could. He could almost curse his husband for turning on the plug while Mark was at work, but…he couldn’t deny the pleasure and thrill he was getting from it. He was being toyed with like this, at his husband’s mercy…and no one had a clue, it made his dick throb even more and he stifled a groan as the pants were becoming unbearably tight.

He continued to chat with his friends and mingled with a few of the other guys from the office, they even brought out a small cake that they had bought for him, the plug was buzzing inside Mark the entire time they were singing the “Happy Birthday” song, and when he blew out the candles. He told no one what his wish was. (You’ll find out later ;)  ).

Once they had finished eating their slices of cake, with only 10 minutes left, things were about to get much worse for poor Mark, as Adrian back home decided it was time to kick things up a notch, and hit the Medium Setting button on the remote.

Just then, Mark felt the plug inside his ass go from a low buzz to something that made him cry out with a loud “Ohhhhh” and he covered his mouth to try and stop himself but it was too late, he exchanged glances with both Jake and Bobby who were staring at him with abject confusion now.

Mark couldn’t find the words, he wanted to fall to his knees, strip off his tight pants, and make himself cum despite the presence of his best friends, the thought of it turned him on a little in fact..he cast his head down in absolute shame as he felt so utterly humiliated that he was being reduced to a wobbling, moaning mess all because of a little toy.

“Mark, seriously, you’ve been acting strange tonight, I’m starting to think you’re not telling us something, I know that look in your eyes, you’ve always been such a bad liar, so come on, spill it” Bobby said in a firm tone, and he said it so confidently that it turned Mark on a little as it reminded him of the way his husband often got him to spill whatever was bothering him.

As Mark tried to open his mouth and answer with a simple need to go to the bathroom, Adrian suddenly switched the plug up to its highest setting, while Mark had been attempting to pull out his phone and text his husband, to beg him to stop. The sudden jolt he felt as the toy's vibration tripled in intensity made Mark whimper and his cock was harder than it had ever been, as he dropped his phone, which slid between his legs and landed just a few feet behind him.

Jake and Bobby stared in disbelief at the display, and as Mark turned around and began to bend over to reach his phone, bending his knees slightly so his tall frame could reach the floor. Mark bit his lip to keep himself from constantly moaning, and swore he could hear the plug vibrating in his ass now. He was so distracted by the plug and his phone that he momentarily forgot how tight his pants were, and didn’t realize until it was too late that the fabric was giving way, it was too much, and he didn’t hear the little rips and tears right at the seat of his pants. As soon as he fully bent himself over Mark’s face went white as he heard and felt a resounding:

RIIIIIIIIIPPPPP

The back seat of his pants ripped open, and felt the open air of the office on his bare ass as he had poorly chosen to wear his bright pink jockstrap. Mark was momentarily frozen until he realized that Jake and Bobby were getting a full view of his accidental exposure.  What was worse was that his jockstrap pouch was soft and silky, which made his dick feel that much more sensitive as it hardened in his pants. Once it was fully hard, however, his cock had practically pushed the material away, which made him feel like he was practically commando.

Thus, he felt the cold office air hitting his balls dangling between his legs, his cock too was swinging proudly which only heightened Mark’s humiliation.

As soon as he shook off his initial shock, Mark covered up his exposed bubble butt with one hand and stood right back up, his phone in hand, and slowly turned around. His face was crimson red as he faced his friends, who were staring at him with their mouths hanging open in complete shock, thought it seemed Jake found it a little amusing as he had a slight smirk on his face, but Bobby had a look of something else in his eyes, something Mark didn’t notice as he was too preoccupied with everything going on all at once, it was too much, he was so aroused…he needed to cum.

“I ummm…I need to go” Mark said before quickly running off towards the office bathrooms, and he didn’t even notice that there was only 1 minute left on the clock.

Mark ran, his hand still covering his exposed ass, and quickly reached the men's bathrooms and threw himself into the nearest open stall and locked himself in. Mark had never felt more embarrassed in his life, and he whipped out his phone to text his husband what had happened…

*Wow, you ripped your pants? Better take em off then*

Mark stared at the words Adrian had texted back for a few seconds before processing them fully. The plug was still vibrating but it went back down to Medium setting after Adrian had seen his text. 

*Are you insane?!* Mark replied.

*Well, the way I see it, you can either walk out with a hole in your pants, or you can be a good boy and take them off…now* Adrian said.

Mark didn’t think it was a good idea, but…they were ripped. He pondered what to do as Bobby quietly entered the bathroom…He was intrigued as he had seen quite clearly what Mark had inside him when his pants had ripped, and had guessed that that was probably why he had been acting so strange, and he was eager to try and see more, so he made up an excuse to Jake that he was going to check on Mark while the others cleaned up and left. Bobby quietly crept up towards the stall, taking out his phone and setting his camera up to film in the crack between the stall door. He wanted to save this as potential jerk-off material for later…his dick hardened as he saw Mark inside, his heart thundered in his chest as his friend’s hands fumbled towards his belt.

Mark was too distracted to notice Bobby secretly filming him, the toy was still driving him crazy and he bit his lip again to try and suppress his moans even as his knees felt weak and his cock was eager for release. Mark continued to remove his pants, his hands unbuttoning the top and slowly lowering the zipper…he hesitated for a brief moment before he let them fall and pool around his legs, exposing his jockstrap, and Bobby had to cover his mouth as he finally saw Mark’s exposed cock and balls, not to mention his delicious looking bubble butt…

Mark pulled down his underwear too, slowly pulling his feet out from between them which officially left him half-naked…he wanted so badly to cum but he had to obey his husband…didn’t he? 

Maybe he could just stroke himself a little, relieve some of the pressure, no harm in that, right? God the toy felt so good inside him, he NEEDED this. He positively whimpered and moaned as he slowly wrapped a hand around his thick, pulsing shaft and started to slowly stroke himself. Bobby watched intently, his phone recording everything and his dick was fully hard in his pants as he watched his best friend jerk off.

Suddenly, Bobby looked down at Mark’s discarded clothes, and a wicked idea popped into his head, and he smirked as he reached underneath the stall and grabbed Mark’s ripped pants, jockstrap, even his shoes and socks. Mark didn’t seem to notice, his eyes were closed as he became lost in the pleasure, he was already getting close, he needed to stop.

But he couldn’t, it felt too good, he needed to cum, and he needed to cum now, all thoughts of Adrian’s command were muffled between his desperate need for release and his sheer state of arousal from tonight's events. Luckily for Mark, Bobby decided the time was now as he stopped recording and loudly cleared his throat as he leaned against the bathroom stall door.

“Wow, sounds like a real party in there” Bobby said, smirking to himself as he had hidden Mark’s clothes in the bathroom supply closet.

Mark quickly snapped out of his jerk-off session and covered his crotch with his hands. “B-bobby? What are you doing in here...wait…where are my clothes?!” Bobby said, his voice both full of fear and anger as he knew Bobby had taken them, he felt so embarrassed at how he had failed to notice any of it.

“Oh, don’t worry about them, I hid them somewhere safe, I just thought that considering everything that happened…maybe you’d like to celebrate today by going out in your birthday suit” Bobby said.

“What?! No way Bobby, come on, stop kidding around and just give me my clothes back…please?” Mark said.

“Hmmm, no, I think I prefer you this way, I’m sure Adrian would agree that that thick butt of yours is too magnificent to keep confined in those poor, tight dress pants. I also think you’d enjoy going home fully nude, so you better strip off the shirt and tie soon, before the cleaning guys show up” Bobby said, tauntingly.

Mark was dumbfounded at this turn of events, he could either refuse and he’d be stuck here with a butt plug still going off in his ass, or he could strip fully naked and get out of here now…what kind of choice was that??? Mark thought to himself, but his hands seemed to have a will of their own, as after a moment's hesitation they reached up towards his tie, loosening the knot and unbuttoning the top buttons of his long sleeve dress shirt. Deep down he knew he had no choice…he had to get out of here, he had to get home.

Mark did his best to resist how good the plug felt inside him, and how badly he still wanted to cum, he focused singularly on giving Bobby what he wanted, and he handed over his tie as he began to strip off his shirt, exposing his furry, muscled chest and he refused to meet Bobby’s eyes as he handed over his last item of clothing, leaving him fully naked. His face bled a deep, beet red as Bobby opened the door and whistled as he gazed at his friend butt naked.

“Better get going, and don’t worry, everyone else has left” Bobby said, standing off to the side to let Mark leave.

Mark practically bolted out, his phone and wallet in hand, yet as he sped by, Bobby was quick enough to quickly grab a chunk of his right ass cheek and squeeze, which made Mark yelp but also whimpered a little as his dick twitched at the contact. 

“Have a nice drive home, birthday boy” Bobby said, winking at Mark resumed his exit from the bathroom.

Bobby was true to his word, everyone else left, yet Mark still covered his crotch as he sped out of the office towards the parking lot, and sighed in relief as he checked that he also still had his keys. He stood out in the cold, open night air fully in the nude, and he couldn’t deny how good it felt to be running around completely naked. As for the plug, it seemed Adrian had had his fun, as it either died or turned off as soon as Mark hopped into his car.

Adrian was waiting on the couch when Mark finally returned home, he heard the jangle of his husband's keys and he smiled as he turned his head to welcome his husband home, and was greeted with the sight of his husband without any clothes on.

“Whoa! I told you to take off your pants, not all your clothes…what happened to you?” Adrian said, intrigued, amused, and even a little turned on.

Mark took a deep breath as he moved to join his husband on the couch, the plug still inside his hole, and as he wrapped an arm around Adrian’s shoulder he finally exhaled and said: “It’s a long story.”

The End.

[itneverendshere]

invisible string - r.c series (three) (+18)

pairing: pogue!rafe x kook!sweetheart!reader warnings: angst; smut; fluff. part one; part two

Rafe rarely ever fought with you. 

Sure, he’d thrown his weight around with just about everyone else, but with you?

He’d dropped the whole tough-guy bullshit months ago. Hell, he’d even cried in front of you, ugly sobbing and all. He didn’t let himself be that vulnerable with anyone else, but today... today he felt like his skin was too tight and he was two seconds away from losing it.

He didn’t understand why you were pushing so hard. You kept going, saying the same things over and over, and he was trying so damn hard to stay calm, but every word you said just felt like gasoline on a fire.

He wasn’t even mad at you, not really.

He was mad at everything else—at himself, at how nothing ever seemed to go right, at how he always felt one wrong move away from everything falling apart. And now you wanted to talk about it again, like you didn’t see how close he was to just snapping.

It felt like you didn’t get it. No matter how many times you two talked about it, you still thought there was some perfect world where you could just be together out in the open, like it was no big deal.

But it was a big deal. A huge fucking deal.

He leaned against the wall of the shed, arms crossed, just watching you. You looked so damn hopeful like he was really about to show up to your graduation party and stand next to you like some lost puppy. You had this big party planned at your place. Parents, family, all your Kook friends. The whole scene. And you wanted him there. Like your parents weren’t gonna lose their minds if they saw him anywhere near you.

He could practically see your dad’s face already, that look of disappointment or disgust or whatever the hell he’d call it.

Rafe wasn’t dumb. He knew his place around here.

And sure, you knew the basics too: you were heading off to college soon, your life was on this perfect, shiny path, and his...well, his was a whole mess in comparison. But it was like you couldn’t see the bigger picture. Or maybe you just didn’t want to.

You acted like everything between you two would stay the same, like you could just waltz into your new life with him still in it, like he could just follow you there. But Rafe knew better. You were leaving in four months, and that thought sat heavy in his chest every time he was around you now.

And here you were talking about the party again, like his presence there wouldn’t blow up everything.

He wanted to be there for you, more than anything, but not like that. Not surrounded by your perfect little world while he felt like an outsider, waiting for someone to call him out. It was like you didn’t even see the bomb that was about to go off if he stepped foot into your life like that.

“Are you listening to me?”

He ran a hand down his face, trying to hold onto whatever thread of control he had left. “I am listenin',” he muttered, though his voice came out harder than he meant.

“No, you’re not,” you said, a little firmer this time. "You’re shutting down again, like you always do when I bring this up."

He didn’t want to fight. He didn’t want this to turn into some big blow-up. But damn, why couldn’t you just drop it for once? Why did you always have to dig, always push when he was hanging by a thread?

“Are coming tonight or not?” you asked for the millionth time, like it was no big deal. Just a party. “It’s nothing crazy.”

He let out a short laugh, not even bothering to hide the sarcasm. Yeah, right. “Like your dad’s not gonna lose his shit the second he sees me?”

“Rafe—” you started, but he already knew where this was going. Same conversation, different day.

You were standin’ there, looking at him with those big, hopeful eyes and it killed him. You were always calm, always trying to make sense of shit when sometimes there just wasn’t any sense to be made.

And right now, he didn’t have the patience for it.

He cut you off. “You really think it’s that easy? You think I can just show up, grab a drink, and blend in with your crowd like we’re in some damn movie? Tell everyone how ‘m your homeless boyfriend?”

You looked frustrated like you couldn’t wrap your head around why this was such a big deal. He wished you could see it from his side, but how could you? You weren’t a pogue.

You didn’t know what it was like being the guy no one wanted around anymore. Hell, he barely had anywhere to crash before you helped him out. And now, what? He was supposed to show up to your graduation party and pretend like he belonged?

He was getting worked up now. He knew it. But damn, how was he supposed to just walk into that house, standing next to you while everyone whispered about how he would be dragging you down?

“It’s my party,” you said, taking a step closer. “I don’t care what they think. I want you there.”

He clenched his jaw and looked away. You didn’t get it. This wasn’t just about your daddy or your friends or even you. It’s about the fact that no matter how hard he tried, he was always gonna be that guy they look at sideways like he wasn’t worth a dam.

“Yeah? And what happens when they start askin’ questions?” He asked, voice low, trying to keep the edge out of it. “When they find out we’ve been sneakin’ around for months? You think they’ll just be cool with that? You wanna throw all that away, for me?”

Your face tightened up, hurt showing in your eyes, and damn if that didn’t make his chest twist up inside. He hated seeing you like that.

“I’m just tired of pretending like I’m ashamed of you.”

That one hit hard, harder than he expected.

He dropped his head, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling like he was about to lose it. “M’ not doing this to hurt you,” he muttered, trying to pull himself back together. “I’m doing it ‘cause I care about you.”

He was protecting this.

You shook your head like you didn’t believe him. “No, you’re doing this ‘cause you think you’re protecting me from something that doesn’t even matter. None of this—my parents, the Kook bullshit—none of it matters to me.”

You didn’t curse often, but when you did, he knew you were upset. Rafe let out a frustrated sigh, looking down at his boots, the ones you’d bought him a month ago, kicking at some dirt on the ground. He hated this. Hated how you made it seem so simple. Like you could just snap your fingers, and everything would fall into place.

"Doesn't matter to you," he muttered, shaking his head. "But it matters to them. It matters to the people you gotta see every day. Your parents, your friends... hell, half the damn island. You think they won’t care? That they won’t look at you different if they see you with me?"

You were right there in front of him now, reaching out to touch his arm, but he tensed up, not ready for the comfort. Not when his head was a mess.

“I don’t care what they think. Why do you?"

That question. That damn question. It was always the same one, and he never had a good answer for it. He didn’t care what they thought, not about him.

But you? You deserved better. And even if you didn’t see it that way, he did.

“I care ‘cause you’re... you’re better than all that, alright?" His voice was gruff, trying to keep from saying too much, but it was getting harder. "You got your whole future lined up, you’re set. College, whatever the hell you wanna do. And then there's me, dragging you down with all my bullshit. You deserve—"

“I deserve to make my own choices,” you cut in, stepping even closer, so close now that he could feel the warmth of your skin, hear the frustration under your breath. “And I choose you. I don’t care about any of that other stuff. I want you there tonight. With me.”

The way you said it, it almost made him want to believe it. Almost.

Rafe clenched his jaw, eyes drifting up to meet yours. You really believed it, didn’t you? That this could work. That you two could just show up, be together, and it wouldn’t matter what anyone thought. Part of him wanted to grab onto that same hope, hold it tight, and say “fuck it” to everything else.

But the other part—the part that had seen how the world worked, how Kooks looked down on Pogues like him—knew better.

"Just 'cause you want it, doesn’t makes it real.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Like we can just walk in there and no one’s gonna give a shit that you’re standing next to me.”

You crossed your arms now, jaw set in that stubborn way that usually meant you weren’t backing down. “I don’t care anymore, Rafe. I’m tired of living by their rules. This is my life."

He felt a flare of anger burn in his chest. Not at you, but at the situation. At the fact that he couldn’t just be the guy you wanted him to be, the guy who could walk into that party and not feel like he was sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Yeah?” he snapped back, voice rough. “And what about next time, huh? What about the next party or when your dad finds out and says you’re not allowed to see me anymore. What then?”

You stared at him, eyes hard, like you were daring him to say more, but there was something else in your expression, something that made his throat tighten. "You’re just looking for an excuse," you said quietly. "You’re scared."

Maybe you were right. Maybe he was scared.

Scared that if he let himself believe this could work, he’d end up losing you in the end anyway. Scared that the moment you really saw how different your lives were, you’d leave, and he’d be the one standing there, broken.

“Can’t you just drop it?”

“You’re being mean.”

He wasn’t trying to hurt you—not really. But he didn’t know how else to get through your head, how to make you see what he saw.

“So what if I am. Maybe I need to be. You’re not listening to me.”

You didn’t flinch, didn’t back down, and that just pissed him off more. You should be mad. You should hate him for not just going along with this, for making it all so damn hard. But there you were, looking at him like you still believed in him. Like he was worth it. And fuck, that was the hardest part.

Your eyes were glassy, and he could see it—the hurt. The way you blinked fast, your lips pressed tight, like you were holding it all in, it killed him.

“You’re pushing me away,” you said, voice shaky as hell. “And I don’t get it. You’re actin’ like I’d be better off without you.”

He clenched his fists, feeling that familiar burn of frustration flare up. He didn’t want to yell at you.

Hell, he never wanted to make you cry, but you didn’t get it. Part of him wanted to shake you, make you see things the way he saw them. The other part? The part that hurt every time you talked about leaving, about how you had this whole future ahead of you... that part just wanted to pull you in and hold on tight.

He laughed, a sharp, humorless sound. “Yeah? Well, someone needs to. 'Cause you’re blind if you think this ends with us living happily ever after.”

You flinched, like his words had hit you straight in the chest. And then, the tears came, and he couldn’t stop them this time. You wiped at your face, trying to hold it together, but he’d already done the damage.

He was falling apart right in front of you, and he hated that you had to see it. Hated that you were the only person who ever saw him like this.

He hated himself for saying it, but he couldn’t stop now. Couldn’t stop the truth from comin’ out, no matter how much it hurt. “You’re leavin’ in four months, and I’m still here. Still... me. And I’m not draggin’ you down with all my crap. You deserve better than that.”

You reached out, grabbing his arm, and the way you touched him made somethin’ inside him crack. “I don’t want better, Rafe. I want you.”

“Yeah?” He barked out a laugh, bitter and hollow. “And what happens when you’re gone? When you’re off at college, livin’ your life, and I’m still here, stuck in this place? You think this... whatever this is, is gonna last?”

Your voice broke a little when you spoke again. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’m doin’ it ‘cause I care about you,” he said, voice dropping low, rough around the edges. “More than anything. But you... you got a future. You got everythin’ ahead of you. And me? I ain’t got nothin’ but a one-way ticket to nowhere.”

You were cryin’ now, and that damn near killed him. You never cried, not like this. “That’s not true. Why can’t you see that? I’m not leaving you behind.”

Rafe finally looked up, meeting your eyes, and he could see it—could see how much you meant it.

And damn, he wanted to believe it. Wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, you were right. But he’d been around long enough to know how this world worked, and it never worked out for guys like him.

“I can’t be the one to ruin your life,” he said, stepping back, pulling away from your touch even though it felt like it was tearing him apart to do it. “I won’t.”

“Rafe,” you whispered, voice broken and pleading, but he shook his head.

“Just... let it go,” he muttered, turning his back to you. He couldn’t handle it anymore. Couldn’t handle seeing you hurt, knowing it was his fault. Knowing he was the reason your heart was breaking.

"Fine," you choked out, voice only just holding steady. "If you don’t want me there, then I’ll stop trying.”

You turned on your heel, storming off, but not before he saw your shoulders shake. 

Fuck.

That shit crushed him, but still, he didn’t move.

Just stood there, fists clenched, staring at the ground while you walked away from him. He knew he’d ruin the best thing that ever happened to him, he just didn’t expect it to happen this soon. He wanted to go after you, and say something to make it right, but what was the point? 

He always fucked it up somehow.

He leaned his head back against the shed, staring up at the sky, feeling like an absolute waste of space.

You had everything going for you—family, friends, a future—and what the hell did he have? Nothing but bad luck and a reputation that dragged behind him like a chain. He didn’t even know why you bothered with him sometimes. You were too good, too kind.

And he? He was the definition of a screw-up. Always saying the wrong thing, always ruining the good moments before they even had a chance to get started.

He slid down the wall until he was sitting in the dirt, head in his hands, wishing he could just be different. Wishing he didn’t care so much about what your dad thought or how your friends would whisper when you weren’t around. He wished he could just be the guy you saw, the guy you believed in.

Hours later, the party at your place was in full swing, and he knew you were there, trying to have a good time without him. He hadn’t shown up, of course. Just like he said he wouldn’t. Rafe stayed back, back in that stupid abandoned house, trying to tell himself this was for the best. 

He could hear the distant sound of music coming from your house, the laughter of your Kook friends echoing through the night air. It was the kind of party he never really belonged at—one where everyone showed up in their clean-cut clothes, fresh haircuts, and fancy cars. The kind of life he never had a shot at, not really. And here he was, stuck in the dirt, hands covered in grime, still trying to figure out why the hell you kept fighting for him.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew this was what was supposed to happen. You deserved to be there, with your people, not hanging around with someone like him. You’d be fine without him weighing you down. Hell, you’d probably be better off in the long run. He’d hurt you. He knew it. Saw it clear as day when you walked off, tears in your eyes, but he didn’t go after you. He didn’t know how.

But then his phone buzzed—the phone you had gotten him—and he looked down to see your name flashing on the screen. He stared at it for a second, his gut twisting, then picked up.

“Yeah?”

All he could hear on the other end was you crying. That soft, broken cry made his chest feel like it was caving in.

“Hey, hey,” he said quickly, standing up straighter. “What’s wrong?”

You didn’t answer right away, just kept crying, and that was worse than anything you could’ve said. His heart was pummeling to the ground, and he was already on his feet, ready to head over before you even asked.

“Sweetheart,” he tried again, trying to keep himself from sounding as panicked as he felt. “What happened? Talk to me.”

You sniffled hard, trying to talk through the sobs. “Rafe, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—” You couldn’t even finish the sentence, your voice all shaky and broken.

He couldn’t stand to hear you like that, not when he knew it was his fault. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing now, feeling like a total jackass.

“Stop crying, darlin’,” he muttered, voice softer now. “I hate when you cry.”

“I’m just so upset,” you whispered, still trying to catch your breath. “I didn’t want us to fight like that. I just miss you.”

Rafe clenched his jaw, feeling like shit. He could hear the party still going in the background, but all you wanted was him. He knew that, but somehow he’d still managed to mess everything up.

“Where are you?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“My room,” you muttered, “I couldn’t stay down there. I feel so stupid.”

His heart twisted, and before he even knew what he was doing, he was throwing on his jacket, heading out.

“I’m coming’ over,” he said, his voice firm.

“What?” you sounded surprised. “Rafe, you don’t have to—”

“I’m coming’,” he interrupted you, his voice low but serious. “Stay there. I’ll be there in a few.”

Twenty minutes later, he was sneaking around the side of your house, ducking behind bushes to avoid being seen. The party was still going, people everywhere, but all he cared about was getting to your window. He knew how to sneak into your room like the back of his hand by now. Too many months of practice.

He climbed through, landing quiet as a mouse, and saw you sitting on the edge of your bed, looking down at your hands. Your eyes were red from crying, and he felt that familiar guilt twisting in his gut.

When you looked up and saw him, you stood fast, like you couldn’t believe he was actually there.

Before he could say anything, you were in his arms, holding onto him tight, like you were scared he might disappear. Rafe held you, his chin resting on top of your head as you pressed into him, your fingers clutching at the back of his jacket like you didn’t want to let go. He knew he'd screwed up. He always did. But when you were there, clutching him like he was the only thing that mattered, it made him question everything he'd told himself.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your face buried in his chest, your body shakin’ from the sobs.

Rafe wrapped his arms around you, holding you as close as he could, like he was trying to make up for every shitty thing he’d said. “You don’t gotta apologize, alrigh’?” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “This one’s on me.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, tears still in your eyes, and damn if it didn’t make him want to punch himself.

“I don’t care about the party or the people,” you practically whimpered, “I just want you, Rafe.”

He stared down at you, feeling’ that knot in his throat. He didn’t deserve you. He never had. But here you were, saying you wanted him anyway.

“I’m sorry for being a dick,” He exhaled, “I just... I don’t know how to do this right. I’m scared I’m just gonna hurt you.”

You shook your head, your hands resting on his chest. “You don’t have to protect me. I just want you to let me in.”

He swallowed hard. You were all he wanted, but damn if it didn’t scare the hell out of him sometimes.

Still, he wasn’t about to lose you. Not like this.

The warmth of you against him, the way you fit so perfectly into his chest—it made him feel like he might just be okay. Like maybe, for once, things didn’t have to be so damn complicated.

But that didn’t mean the doubts were gone. He pulled back just a little, enough to see your face, brushing a tear away from your cheek with his thumb.

 “You know I’m not good at this, right?” His voice was low, rough, like he was almost ashamed to say it. “I don’t wanna screw things up, but I don’t always know how to… be better.”

You looked up at him, your eyes still watery but soft, full of that same stubborn affection you always had for him. “I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to let me in when it gets hard.”

He let out a slow breath, trying to wrap his head around how you could want him—still want him—after all the times he’d messed up. “I’m tryin’, alright?” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. “I don’t wanna push you away, but sometimes it feels like that’s the only thing I know how to do.”

You gave him this sad little smile, like you knew exactly what he meant. “I don’t care if you push sometimes,” you conceded, “Just—don’t leave. Don’t make me feel like I’m in this alone.”

That hit him harder than anything.

He realized then, as much as he was scared of dragging you down, you were scared of him disappearing. No matter how fucked up things got, no matter how much he doubted himself or the future, he wasn’t about to let you slip away.

You bit your lip, like you were debating whether or not to say something, and for a second, Rafe felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“I love you, Rafe.”

Those three words hit him harder than anything ever had. Harder than all the fights, the doubts, the shit he carried around like it was glued to his skin. His heart just about stopped in his chest, and he just stared at you like you’d knocked the wind out of him.

“What—what did you just say?” His voice came out hoarse like he didn’t trust what he heard.

“I love you,” you said again, a little more sure this time. You smiled, but your eyes were still searching his, like you were waiting for him to say something back.

Like maybe he wouldn’t.

His head started spinning, like the room had just tilted sideways.

He could feel his pulse hammering in his throat, and suddenly he wasn’t sure if he was about to pass out or just drop to his knees. How the hell were you standing there, looking at him, and saying that?

His mouth opened, but nothing came out. He felt his knees wobble for a second, like his legs were going to give out. Jesus Christ, get it together, he thought, trying to pull in a breath, but it felt like the air got stuck halfway down his throat.

“You love me?” His voice cracked, and he hated how insecure he sounded, how unsure. But it was like his brain couldn’t process those words coming from you.

You nodded, stepping closer, your hand slipping back to his chest, right over his heart. “Yeah. I love you.”

Rafe’s heart was pounding so hard now, he thought it might actually explode. He blinked, then swallowed hard, still trying to make sense of what was happening.

It wasn’t like he didn’t believe you—it was just, how the hell did he deserve that? Deserve you?

“Shit…” He whispered, almost to himself, and suddenly his legs felt weak again. “I... I—fuck, I don’t know what to say.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.”

But he did.

He needed to say something, anything, to let you know what that meant to him. His throat felt tight, like he might choke if he didn’t get it out.

 “I—I love you too.” It came out fast, like he was scared if he didn’t say it quick enough, you might take it back. "I love you, too. So fucking much, I don't even know what to do with it half the time.”

He looked down at you, and for once, he didn’t care if he was being soft or vulnerable or any of that shit that scared him before.

He just wanted you to know how much he needed you, how much you meant to him.

And as soon as the words were out, you smiled, this big, radiant smile that lit up your whole face, and Rafe felt like he might actually faint this time.

His heart was gonna burst wide open. He pulled back a little, still holding onto you, his forehead resting against yours. 

“You don’t know how much I needed to hear that,” he muttered, “I’ve never—no one’s ever...”

You smiled, brushing your thumb over his cheek, and it was so gentle, so full of love, that it almost knocked him off his feet all over again.

“You deserve it,” you reminded him again, “You deserve to be loved.”

There you were, always telling him of what he was deserving of. 

“I love you,” he whispered again, just to make sure you knew. He buried his face in your neck, his arms enveloping you tighter than before.

You loved him. You loved him. And he loved you.

It felt like the confession had lightened up something inside you.

He’d thought about how it would go, the first time you two would be together like that. In his head, it was always this big moment, something special. 

He was rough around the edges, sure, but he wanted to do it right. He wanted it to be perfect for you. He'd even thought about planning something out—candles, a slow build, maybe a weekend when no one was around.

His breath was ragged as he felt you pull him closer, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. He’d thought about this moment a thousand times—hell, probably more—but never like this.

Not rushed, not with everyone downstairs, and definitely not with you looking at him like you couldn’t wait any longer. You kissed him like you couldn’t stop, fingers already slipping beneath the fabric, making it hard for him to think straight.

“Sweetheart...” his voice was low with that familiar southern drawl, like he was trying to hold it all together. “You sure ‘bout this? We got a house full of people downstairs.”

You kissed him harder, pulling his shirt over his head, and he nearly lost his mind right then and there. He wanted to slow down, make this moment perfect for you, but the way you were all over him? It made him forget every plan he’d ever had. He let out a shaky breath, his hands settling on your waist, trying to ground himself. 

Jesus, this wasn’t how he’d imagined it.

He wanted to slow down, wanted to make this moment last, but you were already working your hands up his chest, and it was driving him insane.

“I don’t care,” you muttered against his lips, your breath hot and all desperate.

Damn, if you weren’t the most stubborn, determined girl he’d ever met. But he loved that about you. Loved how you always knew exactly what you wanted. And right now? It was clear you wanted him. His hands slid up your back, fingers tracing the curves he’d been dreaming about for months.

Rafe let out a groan, trying his best to keep it together, but you were making it damn near impossible. “I was... I was tryin’ to be romantic for once,” he mumbled as he looked into your eyes, practically begging himself to slow down, to make this right. “Was thinkin’ candles, music... not with your whole damn family downstairs, baby.”

You laughed, breathless, and pulled him even closer, your body against his. “You don’t want me?” There was a hint of challenge in your voice like you didn’t believe him.

His blue eyes went wide. “What? ‘Course I want you,” he said, almost shocked you’d even think that. “‘I’ve always wanted you. You gotta know that.”

You looked up at him and he nearly came on the stop, “Then stop holding back.”

Every last bit of control he had glided right out of his hands. You were there, right in front of him, pulling him into you, like you didn’t care about anything else. All his plans, all his ideas of some perfect first time? Out the damn window.

 “You... you look so damn beautiful. This dress— I can’t get over how good you look in it.”

You giggled, and for a moment, the heat between you two softened into something tender, something that made his chest ache.

He loved that sound. Loved the way it lit up your face, like you had no idea just how much you meant to him.

He kissed you again, slow at first like he was trying to be a gentleman, but the way you kissed him back, so eager, so damn hungry—it broke whatever restraint he had left. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, feeling the soft fabric of your dress against his skin, and it sent a jolt through him, making him lose track of everything but you. The room felt too small, and all he could think about was how long he’d been waiting for this—for you.

His hands trembled as he reached for the hem of your dress, hesitating for a second before pulling it up, revealing the soft skin of your waist. He was trying to stay calm, to keep his mind from racing, but it felt damn near impossible with the way you were looking at him.

You were everything.

He swallowed hard, “I... I wanna take my time with you,” he murmured, like he was scared he’d crack the spell between you if he spoke too loud. His fingers brushed over your skin, gentle, as he lifted your dress the rest of the way, eyes flicking up to yours, searching for any sign that you wanted him to stop.

You didn’t.

If anything, you moved even closer, your breathing coming out in quick, giddy breaths. There was something endearing about it—like neither of you really knew what you were doing, but you both wanted it so badly. You were learning together.

Your dress fell to the floor, and he just stared for a moment, blue eyes all wide, like he couldn’t believe this was happening. “Goddamn..”

His hands hovered over your skin, like he didn’t want to rush, but you were yanking him impossibly closer, urging him on. He began to move again, gliding slowly over your bare skin, every touch reverent, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he wasn’t careful enough.

He kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands still roaming over your body, savoring every inch of you. The soft sighs you made only pushed him further, made him forget everything except how much he wanted to make you feel good, how much he needed this to be good for you.

His was light-headed as he whispered your name, “God, I love you— I don’t think you even know how much.”

“I think I do,” you whispered back, lips brushing his neck. “Show me.”

He reached for the delicate straps of your bra and pulled them down your shoulders, like he was unwrapping the most precious thing in the world.

He paused for a second, looking into your eyes, making sure you were still with him, still wanting this as much as before.

You nodded softly, your lips parted, your breath coming out in shallow gasps. His fingers found the clasp, fumbling slightly, and he cursed under his breath with a rough chuckle, “Sorry, baby… it’s just—damn, I’m mess right now.”

You beamed at him, all the tension melting away, “You’re doing’ just fine,” you whispered, urging him to keep going.

With one final tug, the clasp gave way, and your bra slipped off, falling to the floor. Rafe’s eyes darkened as he took you in, his mouth going dry. He swallowed hard like he couldn’t believe this was real.

His hands moved steadily, fingertips grazing your bare skin as he lowered them to your waist, where the last piece of fabric still clung to your body. He hesitated for just a second, his eyes coming back to yours, silently asking for permission.

 “I want you.”

That was all it took.

He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, sliding them down, savoring every inch of you as you were revealed to him. He let out a low groan, as he finally saw you—all of you.

He needed to remind himself this was real. That you were his. “Fuck,” His voice was filled with awe. "You’re perfect.”

Your fingers drifted lower, tugging at the waistband of his jeans and you felt noticed how his body tensed under your touch, his muscles rippling as he tried to keep himself calm.

“C’mon,” you purred, just teasing as you pulled at the button, “I think it’s your turn now.”

Rafe’s lips curved into that cocky grin he knew you loved, "You sure ‘bout that, sweetheart?" 

You nodded, small hands already working to unbutton his jeans. He almost let out a prayer, biting his lip as you slipped them down, his body shivering as your fingers brushed against his skin.

His jeans fell to the floor, and you took a step back, admiring him like he was worth all that staring. Rafe stood there in nothing but his boxers, chest heaving with all that uncontrollable love he felt for you.

His eyes were locked on yours, full of that same intense need, but there was something tender in them too, he still couldn’t quite believe you were here, undressing him like this. But you were real, standing there with him and undressing him like you wanted every single piece of him. 

With a soft smile, you reached up, fingers twitching at the waistband of his boxers, your eyes never leaving his. The way you looked at him as you slid them down slowly, revealing every inch of him? He was never letting that go.

Rafe just stood there for a moment, completely bare, his body a little rigid with anticipation, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as you took him in.

"You're perfect too," your eyes roamed over him, taking in the sharp lines of his body, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

When you stepped closer, hands touching his hips now, dragging him towards you, his fingers found your hair, tangling in it as he leaned down to kiss you, slow and deep, pouring everything he couldn’t say into that kiss.

"Jesus," he whispered against your lips, eyes closing as he tried to breath through his excitement, "You're drivin' me crazy.”

You just let out soft little laugh that made his stomach flip, your fingers mapping over his jaw, keeping him close. His whole body was buzzing with need, his skin burning wherever you touched him, but there was something else in the way you were looking at him—a kind of trust that he wasn’t sure he deserved but fuck if he wasn’t going to do everything to live up to it.

His hands skimmed back down to your hips, your bare skin against his, and for a second, he couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t breathe right. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the familiar scent of you, trying to calm his racing heart.

“You know I’ll take care of you,” he promised, "I want this to be good for you— I’ve always wanted this to be good for you."

You tilted his face down, your lips brushing against his “It already is, Rafe. Just...just be with me."

That was all he needed.

Rafe’s hands touched all over you like he was trying to memorize every part of you, like he couldn’t believe you were letting him have this.

He kissed you, slow but needy, his tongue slipping into your mouth, and the way you responded made his entire body shake. His hands ended up back in your waist, thumb brushing the skin, lifting you just a little and guiding you to the bed, where you both sank into the mattress together.

His weight settled over you, your bodies fitting together in this perfect way that made his head spin. He leaned down, kissing your neck, your collarbone, every inch of skin he could reach.

Your breath came in short gasps, your hands gripping his shoulders as he kissed his way down your body, and Rafe swore he could die.

“You’re everything,” he whispered against your skin, voice hoarse with emotion. "You don't even know... how long I've wanted this. How much I want you."

His fingers moved down, brushing the inside of your thigh. He hesitated for a moment, eyes searching yours, needing that confirmation one more time. You nodded, biting your lip.

His fingers slid between your thighs, slow at first, the warmth of your skin making him shudder. He exhaled sharply, opening you up to him, feeling how ready you were, and it nearly drove him insane. His fingers moved carefully, testing the waters, the softest groan escaping his lips as he found that sensitive spot.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispered, like he couldn’t believe the way you felt under his touch.

Your breath caught, hips shifting toward him, a soft moan breaking loose as his fingers pressed against you. The sound of your voice, the way your body responded to him—it drove him wild. He wanted to make sure you felt good.

Two of his fingers slipped inside, careful, tentative at first. He watched your face, making sure you were okay, his other hand resting on your hip, steadying you as they curled slightly, finding a rhythm that made your body arch into him.

“Rafe…” you breathed out, your voice wobbly, eyes fluttering shut as the sensation overwhelmed you.

He worked a little faster now, getting even harder as he felt you tighten around him. “Like that, baby?”

You nodded quickly, biting your lip to stifle another moan, your hands latching on his shoulders as your body quivered under his touch. He groaned softly, his lips finding your neck, licking and sucking at the soft skin there as his fingers continued their slow, deliberate movements. 

Your body curved toward him, every nerve ending tingling as his fingers moved deeper, curling just right. He swallowed hard, his lips brushing against your ear, "Is this okay?"

Your heart thumped against your rib cage, every movement of his fingers making you gasp softly. You managed to give him a small nod, barely able to find your voice. "Yeah, Rafe... it's perfect."

His breath came out a little less unrestrained, clearly relieved, and he continued, the pace slow, testing. The uncertainty in his touch was endearing, but you wanted more—you needed more.

“Baby,” you murmured softly, biting your lip as a rush of heat stretched through you, “Maybe… one more?”

He froze for a moment, his voice coming out in a ragged gasp as he looked at you. “Are you sure?”

Your heart swelled at his concern, and you gave him a reassuring smile. "I’m sure. Just take it slow."

Carefully, he pulled back just a little, his fingers slipping out before he added a third finger. His brow furrowed in concentration, his eyes flicking up to yours, watching your face for any sign of discomfort.

The sensation was different, intense, but not too overwhelming. You let out a soft moan, your body adjusting to the new pressure as he filled you more.

“Does it—does it feel good?” Rafe asked, his face inches from yours, vulnerable.

“Yes,” you breathed out, “It feels amazing.”

His lips parted, a nervous smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He let out a soft laugh, almost as if he couldn’t believe it himself. “I was worried I’d mess it up.”

You shook your head, pulling him closer, your hand twisting in his hair. “You're doing great.”

He exhaled slowly, his body relaxing a little as he found a rhythm again. His fingers moved more confidently now, more certain, his jaw falling slack as he watched you react to him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Rafe muttered, eyes glued to your face. “You feel that? You’re taking me so well.”

You whined at how deep his voice sounded, your body buzzing as his fingers worked in deeper, the pressure mounting with every movement. Your mind filled with nothing but the feeling of him inside you.

“God, yes,” you breathed out, the pleasure building to a point where it felt like you might break apart.

Rafe's pace quickened, as he pressed his fingers harder, deeper, hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over again. 

"Come on, baby," he practically begged you, voice hoarse. Your breath came out in short, shallow gasps as you felt yourself creeping toward the edge, every movement of his hand bringing you closer. His name fell from your lips in a breathless moan as the tension snapped, your body shuddering as the pleasure washed over you.

His eyes widened in awe, his fingers slowing as he watched you like he couldn’t believe what he’d just made happen. He groaned softly, feeling you pulse around him, "You did so good," he murmured, lips brushing against your temple. "So perfect."

You felt a shiver run down your entire being as his hands glided up your thighs, spreading them gently as he settled himself between them. He was shaking a little, and you could see the hesitation in his eyes—the nervousness that came with doing something for the first time, not wanting to mess it up.

But when he leaned down, kissing you slow and deep, all the apprehend melted away. He couldn’t help but take in every detail—the way your lips parted as you breathed him in. He felt like he was drowning, but in the best way possible.

“I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

You looked up at him, your own breath uneven, eyes wide and the way you saw through him—it was like you were giving him the world. His hand was still shaking slightly as he reached down, lining himself up with you, taking his time, not rushing even though every fiber of his being screamed to.

"I wanna make this good for you," he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. "I don’t wanna hurt you." 

There was a hesitation, a vulnerability that he only showed in moments like this. His focus was entirely on you, on making sure you felt nothing but pleasure. You gave him a small, reassuring nod, your hand finding his, fingers slipping through his, squeezing. "I trust you.”

He exhaled slowly, nodding to himself as he eased into you, inch by inch, watching your face the entire time, making sure you were still doing okay.

The sensation overwhelmed him, the warmth of your body, the way you welcomed him so completely. He groaned, low and deep, knowing he could do this for the rest of his life. You were so fucking warm.

"Fuckkk," he moaned, "You feel so fuckin' good, darlin'."

His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his forehead pressing against yours as he sank deeper, the feeling of being inside you nearly sending him over the edge. He wanted to take it slow, to savor every moment, but the way you clenched around him, the way you whispered his name like it was the only word you knew—it made it impossible.

Your eyes fluttered closed, lashes brushing against flushed cheeks, lips parting in a soft gasp that made his heart skip a beat. His hips moved on instinct, slow at first, testing, his breath coming out in shallow pants as he tried to hold back. "Tell me if it’s too much," he managed to say, his voice strained.

“It’s p-perfect.”

His hips snapped forward, the movement more sure, more confident as he lost himself in the moment. A low groan escaping his lips as he buried himself deeper, his hands gripping your hips as he moved faster, harder, the need to be closer to you taking over.

You mewled pathetically at this point, nails digging into every bit of skin you could get your hands on, body arching beneath him as he hit that perfect spot over and over again. It wasn’t fair that he was a natural.

The way you responded to him, the sounds you made—it had to be the best day of his life.

“Touch me.”

He cupped your tit, thumb brushing over the hardened peak with a gentle touch that contrasted the desperate way his hips moved against you.

His eyes never left your face, watching every flicker of emotion as his hands explored you. "Like this?" he murmured, his thumb circling again as his hips moved deeper. The way your body reacted—sucking him in like a goddamn vice—it nearly undid him.

“Mmhp—Fuck. J—Just like that.”

He leaned down, like a man possessed, lips brushing the soft skin of your tit, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive skin, sending a shiver up your spine. His mouth found the hardened peak, lips wrapping around it with a low groan, and his tongue flicked over it slowly, teasingly. You gasped, your hands entangling in his hair, holding him there as he sucked harder, his teeth grazing just enough to make you whimper.

He hummed in satisfaction, feeling the way your body responded to him. His tongue circled slowly, drawing out every sound you made, savoring each gasp, each moan as he lavished attention on your body. 

“Fuck, baby,” he muttered, voice muffled against your skin as he switched to the other breast, giving it the same attention, his lips trailing over your heated flesh. “You taste so good.”

You couldn’t help the way your body responded, pressing up against him, your hips rolling to meet his. The dual sensation of his mouth on you and the deep, steady thrusts left you tingling all over, beneath him, completely dazed by the pleasure he was giving you.

“Rafe—" you huffed, the word barely more than a breath as your grip tightened in his hair, pulling him closer. His mouth latched on harder, sucking with a fervor that left you breathless.

He pulled back just slightly, lips wet and swollen as he looked up at you,“I could do this all night,” he whispered, “You like that, baby? You like how I’m making you feel?”

He didn’t know where these surges of confidence kept coming from, but he never felt so relieved. It felt like his body knew exactly what to do when it came to yours.

His hand skidded between your legs once more, fingers finding your swollen, sensitive clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that matched the rhythm of his hips and mouth. You could barely think straight, couldn’t form a coherent thought.

When his lips finally crashed back into yours, the taste of him overpowered every sense as his hands pulled your hips tighter. His kiss was messy, all spit and need, like he couldn’t get enough of you—like he needed to feel you, taste you, breathe you in all at once. His tongue slid past your parted lips, slow and teasing at first, then deeper, as if he was trying to consume you whole.

He groaned into the kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before tugging on it softly, then harder as he swallowed the sound of your whines.

When he broke the kiss, it was only to press wet, fevered kisses down your jawline, to your neck, leaving a trail of spit and heat in his wake.

“I love you,” he muttered against your skin, his lips latching onto your collarbone, sucking on the sensitive spot just below your ear, biting gently, “So fuckin’ much.”

“I love you,” You breathed out between kisses, his hands gripping the flesh of your ass and pulling you flush against him, the hard line of his body pressing against yours in a way that made you gasp, “Never g-gonna s-stop,” you whispered back, the taste of him lingering on your tongue as he kissed you harder, rougher, swallowing every sound you made.

"Fuck, I’m close," he gasped, his forehead resting against yours as he fought to hold back, to make this last, but you could feel him losing control, feel the tension coiling tight in his body. His hips moved with a relentless, desperate need, his breath broken and uneven.

“Rafe—” you nearly cried, your body shaking beneath him. Every thrust, every touch, every breath was pushing you closer to the edge, and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

“Let go for me, baby,” he encouraged you, two fingers still rubbing teasing circles over your sensitive clit, “Come for me.”

Your body tightened around him as you came undone with a cry of his name. Rafe groaned as he felt you clench around him, fluttering so perfectly.

His release was not far behind as he thrust into you one last time, before pulling out with a strangled moan, his body shuddering as he came all over your tummy, his head falling to your shoulder.

Rafe stayed there for a while, catching his breath, his body still shaking like a leaf as the tremors of pleasure coursed through him.

Taking his time, he lifted his head, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips. "I love you," he said it again, as he gazed down at you, his thumb brushing tenderly over your flushed cheek. "So damn much."

You never looked so heartbreakingly beautiful. Like a fucking painting.

You grinned from ear to ear, your heart swelling with affection as you held his face in your hands, pulling him for another kiss. "I love you too," you murmured against his lips, your fingers threading through his hair, "Always."

Rafe’s lips curved into a smile against yours, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered. You were his, and he was yours—completely, utterly, and without question

[moirindeclermont]

Happy Friday everyone!

Yesterday's episode of "all Polin's first times we didn't see " was about Colin being sick, so what happens when it's Pen being the one that needs to be taken care of?

Colin knows that Pen can curse. She also have used a couple of particularly creative ones either when they are in bed or in other occasions, but it's only when she is sick that he discovers the full range of curses she learned over the years and he is... Quite impressed. Even if mostly of those curses are against him for making her sick. He will kill anybody who might tell Pen this, but he finds that very cute. Like a small cat trying to hiss and stratch at tiger. Deadly but cute.

Also she hates being sick.

More like, she hates that her body betrayed her like that. She feels the loss of control and she has never dealt with that particularly well.

Yet, Colin knows she wants to be taken care of, so instead of assuming he knows better, he just asked her "what do you need?"

And, like a miracle, Pen deflated.

"At the moment, you," she answers and that's all Colin needed to hear.

He cuddles her for a while, then noticing she is almost asleep, he goes to stand but she is blocking him.

"You'll be here when I wake up?"

"Yes, my love. With your favorite soup, a couple of diaries to read and a human shape blanket."

She smiles and let him go.

As promised, when she wakes up, he is on the bed, a tray on the dresser with her soup and a couple of diaries.

"How do you feel, Pen?"

"Like someone used me to print the issues I write," she says honestly and he just hugs her.

"Eat something, then I'll read and maybe sing something for you?"

She would never turn down such an offer.

Later, when Colin is again cuddling her, he is giving light kisses onto her skin.

"What do you say, Love?"

She looks at him and nods, and he goes to explore her.

Normally, she is warm in her core. That night, it's like way hotter than usual.

Colin is very gentle, knowing she doesn't feel the best.

He uses the lightest of touch, but it seems like it's enough. She seems so receptive, moving with him and his fingers inside her.

It's an image he never gets tired of: her finding her pleasure knowing he is the one giving it to her.

Even when she is sick.

She looks at him, "don't ever think of going for a second round, I don't have the energy!" And he smiles, kissing her deeply.

"Rest my love, tomorrow you'll be better"

As he lays out next to her, hugging her to his chest, he can't help to think that he loves this woman beyond measure and reason. He kisses the top of her head, while she is already sleeping, using his chest as a pillow. He smiles as he drifts off to sleep too.