#i think maybe it calmed me?? cause it was like being wrapped up in a burrito

[staygolden-and-chaotic]

You'll never guess who's requesting this cuz you've never met me 😈

Anyways CAN you do maybe the outsiders boys reaction to an albino greaser? It can be any gender and be reader I just wanna know what you think they'd do or say

Sincerely

A greaser named bug

Nice to meet you bug 😏 but ofccccccc I hope you like it bug💗 I’ll also try to make it gender neutral.

Sincerely

Someone who is winging it🫶🏻

Darrell Curtis

Darry first met you at the grocery store when you were struggling to reach a box of cereal on the top shelf. Being the gentleman he is, he stepped in to grab it for you, and that’s where your conversations started. He was instantly intrigued by your unique appearance.

At first, he was nervous about asking you out. Darry’s got that quiet, steady confidence, but something about you threw him off in the best way. Maybe it was the way your pale skin seemed to glow under the store lights or the sharp intelligence in your eyes.

He loved learning more about albinism and made it a priority to understand how to support you. He’s the type of guy who’d read up on the importance of sunglasses, sunscreen, and any health concerns, making sure you’re always protected. He’d carry a pair of your sunglasses in his truck just in case you forgot yours.

The gang noticed how protective he became of you. If they were hanging out in the sun, Darry made sure there was a shady spot for you to sit and wouldn’t hesitate to drag a chair over for you.

Ponyboy, being a little poetic, would occasionally compare you to the moon soft, glowing, and beautiful. You’d always laugh, but Darry would get this proud, quiet smile like, Yeah, that’s mine.

Darry loved running his hands through your hair. He was mesmerized by its silky white strands and would sometimes find himself just brushing it back while you sat beside him. It became one of his favorite ways to relax after work.

He’d often remind you that you’re beautiful, especially if you ever felt self-conscious about standing out. If someone dared to make a rude comment, Darry’s calm demeanor would snap. He wouldn’t cause a scene, but the steel in his voice when he told someone to back off made it clear they’d regret crossing him.

Date nights were always thoughtful but practical. Darry loved taking you to quieter places, like drive-in movies or picnics at the park during sunset when the sunlight wasn’t too harsh. He loved seeing you comfortable and happy.

The boys absolutely adored you. You brought a calmness to the Curtis house that even Darry appreciated. Whenever things got rowdy, you’d just smile and remind Darry to let loose every now and then.

One night, Soda teased Darry by calling him “lovesick” after he caught Darry staring at you while you talked with Ponyboy. Instead of denying it, Darry just grinned and said, “What can I say? There one of a kind.

Sodapop Curtis

Soda first noticed you while working at the DX. You came in to ask for directions, and the way the sunlight hit your pale skin and silvery hair made him freeze mid sentence. He’d always been a charmer, but with you, he couldn’t help but stutter.

He immediately turned on the charm after recovering, offering to help you with more than just directions. “Need your tires checked? Oil changed? A tour guide around town? I’m your guy.”

From that day, you started coming by the DX more often sometimes for gas, sometimes just to chat. Soda would always light up when he saw you pull in, running to your car before Steve even had the chance to look your way.

Soda loved how unique you were, always calling you his “snow angel” or “moonbeam.” He’d joke that you were so stunning, people had to wear sunglasses just to look at you.

He’d constantly find little ways to dote on you. If it was sunny, he’d remind you to put on sunscreen and even apply it for you if you let him. On cloudy days, he’d wrap his arm around you, saying, “Perfect weather for my perfect baby.”

Soda was fiercely protective. If anyone ever stared too long or made a rude comment about your albinism, he’d immediately jump in with his signature mix of charm and sass. “Yeah, they’re gorgeous, ain’t they? You want an autograph or something?”

He’d love showing you off to the gang. When he introduced you to them, he couldn’t stop grinning and kept saying, “aren’t they just the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen?”

Ponyboy would occasionally ask questions about your albinism, and you’d patiently explain it to him. Soda would listen intently too, wanting to understand everything he could about you.

He loved touching your hair. Whether it was brushing his fingers through it or playing with a strand absentmindedly, he was mesmerized by how soft and silky it was. He’d often joke, “How’d I get lucky enough to date someone straight out of a fairytale?”

Date nights with Soda were always fun and full of energy. He’d take you to the drive in, carnival, or the park for a late night walk when the sun wasn’t an issue. He’d always make you laugh, whether it was through goofy jokes or sneaking extra popcorn into the movies.

Soda would constantly remind you how beautiful you were, especially if you ever felt self conscious about standing out. “You’re one in a million, babe. Nobody else could even come close to you.”

One time, you caught Soda telling Steve, “they’re not just gorgeous, man. They’re everything. I don’t know what I’d do without them.” Steve teased him for being so sappy, but Soda just shrugged with a goofy grin.

One day when you felt out of place or overwhelmed by the stares, soda would wrap you in his arms, kiss the top of your head, and whisper “Your my moonbeam, babe. Nobody else shines like you do.”

Ponyboy Curtis

Pony first saw you at the library, tucked away in a corner with a book in your lap. He couldn’t help but stare your pale skin and snowy hair seemed almost unreal, like you’d stepped out of a storybook.

You caught him staring, and he quickly looked away, blushing furiously. When you smiled at him, though, it gave him enough courage to strike up a conversation.

He was captivated by how soft spoken and kind you were. You bonded over your shared love of books, and Ponyboy found himself seeking you out every time he went to the library.

Pony was curious about your albinism but was too polite to ask at first. When you brought it up yourself, he listened intently, asking thoughtful questions to understand you better. He admired how confident you were about explaining something so personal.

The first time he complimented you, it was so casual and genuine that it caught you off guard. “Your hair looks just like starlight,” he said while flipping through a book, as if it was the most obvious observation in the world.

Pony would write poems about you how your skin glowed in the moonlight or how your unique beauty reminded him of something ethereal. He’d never show them to you unless you stumbled upon one in his notebook, which would make him turn redder than a tomato.

He loved taking you to quiet places where you could talk and relax. His favorite spot was a secluded area by the riverbank where the sunlight wasn’t too harsh, and you could read together.

Pony was fiercely protective in his own quiet way. If anyone made a rude comment or stared too long, he wouldn’t yell or fight, but his sharp, icy glare was enough to make them regret it.

The gang absolutely adored you. They teased Pony about how smitten he was, but they genuinely appreciated the calm and warmth you brought to their rowdy group. Even Dallas, who wasn’t easily impressed, would crack a rare grin when you were around.

Pony loved running his fingers through your hair, fascinated by its silky texture. “It’s like clouds,” he’d murmur, almost in awe.

On tougher days, when you felt out of place or overwhelmed by how much you stood out, Pony would comfort you with his words. “You’re not different in a bad way, y’know? You’re different in the kind of way that makes people remember you. Like a rare flower or a shooting star.”

He’d sometimes read aloud to you, his voice soft and full of emotion. Whether it was poetry, Shakespeare, or something you’d picked, he always managed to make the words sound magical.

One time, Johnny caught Ponyboy staring at you with this dreamy expression, and when he teased him about it, Pony just shrugged and said, “Can you blame me? They’re like the main character in every story I’ve ever loved.”

Johnny Cade

The first time Johnny saw you was at the park. You were sitting alone, sketching in a notebook. He was too shy to approach you at first, but when he saw your drawing, he couldn’t help but compliment it. “That’s real nice,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked up at him with a smile, and Johnny was immediately struck by how unique and beautiful you were. He wasn’t used to talking to girls, especially not ones who looked like they belonged in a painting.

Over time, you and Johnny started spending more time together, often at the park or the lot. You’d draw while he watched, and he’d tell you about his life, feeling comfortable enough to open up in a way he rarely did with anyone else.

He was fascinated by your albinism. When you mentioned it casually one day, he listened intently, his dark eyes filled with curiosity and admiration. “You’re… real different. In a good way,” he said softly, trying not to sound awkward.

Johnny was always gentle and considerate, making sure you were comfortable. If the sun was too bright, he’d offer his jacket to shield you or suggest moving to a shady spot. He’d even remind you to put on sunscreen, though he’d blush while doing it.

He loved your hair and often found himself staring at it, amazed by how soft and light it looked. If you ever let him touch it, he’d do so tentatively, like it was the most delicate thing in the world.

The gang noticed how much happier Johnny seemed when he was around you. They teased him about it, but he didn’t mind too much he was just glad to have someone like you in his life.

You made Johnny feel seen and appreciated in a way he wasn’t used to. He’d always felt like a shadow, but with you, he felt like he mattered.

He’d get protective of you, especially if anyone made rude comments or stared too long. While he wasn’t the type to start fights, he’d stand his ground if he thought someone was being disrespectful.

One of Johnny’s favorite things was watching you draw. He’d sit beside you in quiet awe, occasionally asking about your process or offering ideas. Once, you surprised him by sketching a portrait of him, and he was so touched he couldn’t find the words to thank you.

Johnny wasn’t great with words, but he had his own way of showing how much he cared. He’d bring you little things he thought you’d like a pretty rock, a flower, or a book he borrowed from the library.

On days when you felt self conscious about your albinism, Johnny would do everything he could to comfort you. “You’re… special,” he’d say quietly, his voice full of sincerity. “Not just ‘cause of how you look. You’re just… you. And that’s more than enough.”

He loved quiet moments with you, like sitting under the stars and talking about your dreams. You’d reassure him that he was more than his tough life, and he’d start to believe it when he saw how much you cared.

One night, when you asked him why he always seemed so amazed by you, he looked at you with soft, honest eyes and said, “’Cause you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen… and I’ve seen a lot of sunsets.”

Dallas Winston

Dally first noticed you when you walked into Buck’s for a drink. Your pale skin and bright hair stood out in the smoky, dimly lit bar, and he couldn’t help but stare. “Well, ain’t you a sight,” he said, flashing his trademark smirk.

At first, you weren’t sure if he was teasing or genuinely interested, but Dally didn’t waste any time making it clear he was intrigued. He’d swagger over, lean against the bar, and say, “What’s someone like you doing in a place like this? Lookin’ for trouble?”

Dally was fascinated by your appearance. He wasn’t used to seeing someone so unique, and he made it a point to tell you just how stunning you were sometimes in the bluntest, most Dally way possible. “You’re somethin’ else, doll. Never seen anyone like you, and I’ve been around.”

He loved the way people’s eyes lingered on you when you were together. It fed his ego to know he had someone as striking as you by his side. If anyone dared to say something rude, though, Dally wouldn’t hesitate to throw a punch. “Got somethin’ to say? Didn’t think so.”

Dally was surprisingly attentive when it came to your albinism. He’d tease you about being a “snow angel” or “ghost,” He’d casually hand you his jacket if you forgot to bring something to cover up. “Don’t need you fryin’ out here, babe.”

He wasn’t the type to outright say how much he cared, but his actions spoke louder than words. Whether it was making sure you stayed out of trouble or keeping people from bothering you, Dally always had your back.

He loved your hair. He’d run his fingers through it, tug it gently, or just brush it back while giving you that cocky grin. “Soft as hell,” he’d mutter, almost like he was talking to himself.

Despite his tough exterior, Dally had a soft spot for you. You brought out a gentler side of him that few people ever saw. He’d still act like a rebel, but around you, he’d lower his walls just enough to let you see the real him.

The gang noticed the change in him when you were around. He was still Dally rough, cocky, and wild but they could see how protective he was of you. Even TwoBit joked, “Looks like Dally’s finally gone soft,” earning a glare from him.

Dally loved taking you on reckless adventures. Whether it was sneaking into movies, speeding down empty roads, or getting into places you weren’t supposed to be, he made sure life with him was never boring.

When you felt self-conscious about standing out, Dally wouldn’t sugarcoat his response. “So what if people stare? Let ‘em. They’re just jealous they’ll never look as good as you do, doll.”

He loved showing you off, especially in public. Wrapping an arm around your shoulder, he’d smirk at anyone who dared to look your way. “Yeah, they’re with me. Got a problem with that?”

On rare, quiet nights, he’d open up to you about his rough life, surprised by how much comfort your presence gave him. He’d never admit it outright, but being with you made him feel like maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

One night, after a particularly wild day, he turned to you with a serious look in his eyes and said, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, doll. Don’t let it go to your head, though.”

Steve Randle

Steve first noticed you at the DX when you came in to get your car checked out. He was working under the hood of a car, but when you walked in, he nearly dropped his wrench. “Holy smokes,” he muttered under his breath, barely able to keep his cool.

Unlike Soda, who was always smooth with compliments, Steve’s reaction to you was clumsy. “Uh, you need… uh… gas or somethin’? Wait, no, you’re here for the car. Obviously.” It was awkward but endearing.

He was fascinated by your looks but didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Instead of outright saying something, he’d sneak little glances your way, trying to act casual. It was Soda who eventually teased him into actually asking you out.

Steve loved working on your car just so he had an excuse to see you. He’d take extra care to make sure everything was perfect, even throwing in a free tune up here and there. “Gotta keep your ride running smooth, just like you.”

He quickly learned about your albinism when you explained why you always wore sunglasses and avoided the sun. Steve didn’t know much about it but was eager to learn. “So, sunscreen’s, like, a must, huh? Don’t worry I’ll keep some in the car for you.”

He loved showing you off to people, especially when they stared. Wrapping an arm around you, he’d smirk and say, “Yeah, they’re with me. Bet you’ve never seen anyone like them, huh?”

Steve could get hot headed if anyone said something rude about you. He wouldn’t hesitate to throw hands if he thought someone was disrespecting you. “Got somethin’ to say? Say it to me.”

The gang teased Steve endlessly about how much he adored you, but he didn’t care. “Yeah, I’m whipped. So what?” he’d say, shrugging it off with a grin.

Steve loved taking you for rides in his car, especially at night when the sun wasn’t a problem. He’d crank up the radio, roll down the windows, and let you feel the wind in your hair as he drove around town.

He wasn’t great with words, but he’d always find little ways to show how much he cared like fixing things for you, bringing you your favorite snacks, or surprising you with a mixtape of songs that reminded him of you.

On days when you felt self conscious about your albinism, Steve wouldn’t let you dwell on it. “Babe, you’re a knockout. People don’t stare ‘cause you’re weird they stare ‘cause they’ve never seen anything as gorgeous as you.”

One time, he caught himself staring at you while you were talking to Ponyboy about books. When you asked what he was looking at, he just smirked and said, “My baby, that’s what. Can’t blame me, can ya?”

Two-Bit Mathews

Two-Bit first saw you at the movies when you were sitting in the row ahead of him. He couldn’t help but lean forward and crack a joke about the film, just to get your attention. When you laughed, he was hooked.

After the movie, he practically ran after you to introduce himself. “So, do I get the honor of knowing the name of the prettiest person in the theater?” he’d ask with his signature grin.

Two-Bit loved teasing you, but it was always playful and never mean-spirited. He’d call you things like “Snowflake” but the way he said it always made you laugh instead of cringe.

He was completely fascinated by your appearance. “You look like you belong on one of those fancy magazine covers,” he’d say with a smirk. “Maybe I should start carrying a camera around just to keep up with you.”

The first time he learned about your albinism, he made a big deal about how cool it was. “Wait, so you’re, like, one in a million? That’s wild. I always knew I had good taste.”

Two-Bit was incredibly protective in his own goofy way. If someone stared at you too long, he’d walk up to them and say, “Take a picture it’ll last longer.” If they kept it up, his tone would shift to something sharper. “You deaf, pal? Move it.”

He loved to joke about how pale you were, but he always followed it up with a compliment. “You’re so bright, you’re putting the sun to shame. No wonder I need sunglasses around you.”

The gang quickly noticed how smitten he was. They’d tease him relentlessly, but he’d just shrug and grin. “What can I say? I’m a lucky guy. Not everyone gets a snow angel for a partner .”

Two-Bit loved taking you on silly adventures, like sneaking into drive ins or pranking random people in the neighborhood. “Life’s too short to be boring, babe. Let’s make some memories.”

He was surprisingly sweet when it came to taking care of you. He’d always remind you to put on sunscreen or bring sunglasses, even jokingly offering to carry an umbrella for shade. “Gotta keep my snowflake from melting.”

If you ever felt self conscious about your albinism, Two-Bit would immediately shut it down with his humor and charm. “Babe, if everyone else doesn’t see how gorgeous you are, that’s their loss. Guess that means I get you all to myself.”

He loved showing you off in public. “Yep, that’s my mine,” he’d say with a cocky grin whenever someone glanced your way. “Go ahead and look, but don’t touch. They’re taken.”

One time, he surprised you with a snow globe he found at a thrift shop. “Look! It reminded me of you tiny, perfect, and way outta my league.”

Late at night, when the two of you were alone, his goofy side would fade, and he’d get more serious. “You know I’m crazy about you, right? Don’t need to change a thing about yourself, doll. You’re perfect as is.”

Tim Shepard

Tim first saw you hanging around the neighborhood, and while he didn’t usually stop to notice people, you caught his eye immediately. Your pale skin, white hair, and quiet confidence stood out in a world of chaos.

He wasn’t the type to stumble over his words, so he walked right up to you, smirking. “You lost, or do you just like hangin’ out in rough neighborhoods?” When you fired back a sassy response, he knew you were someone he wanted to know better.

Tim was intrigued by your albinism, though he didn’t make a big deal out of it. He’d ask a few questions here and there, always casual, but it was clear he found your uniqueness fascinating.

He loved the way you stood out from everyone else. “You’re not like the other people around here,” he’d say, his voice low and sincere. “And that’s a good thing.”

Tim wasn’t big on public displays of affection, but he was fiercely protective of you. If anyone stared too long or made a rude comment, they’d get a cold glare or worse.

Despite his tough exterior, Tim had a soft spot for you. He’d go out of his way to make sure you were safe and comfortable, even if it meant slowing down his usually chaotic lifestyle.

The Shepard gang respected you immediately because of how much Tim cared about you. Nobody dared to mess with you, knowing full well Tim would make them regret it.

Tim wasn’t much for words, but his actions spoke volumes. He’d walk you home after dark, make sure you ate when you were too busy to remember, and even fix things around your house without being asked.

You brought out a softer side of him that few people ever saw. While he was still tough and intimidating to everyone else, with you, he was patient and gentle.

On tough days, when you felt self conscious about standing out, Tim would sit beside you, his hand resting on your knee. “Look, you’re not just different you’re better. They don’t like it? Screw ‘em. You’re mine, and that’s all that matters.”

He wasn’t big on romantic gestures, but he had his moments. Once, he carved your initials into a tree in the lot where his gang hung out, grinning as he showed you. “Figured I’d make it official.”

Tim loved taking you for rides in his car , especially at night when the world felt quiet. He’d let you wrap your arms around him as he sped through the streets, the wind in your hair. “Ain’t nobody out here but us, doll. Feels nice, don’t it?”

Despite his rough and tumble lifestyle, Tim was incredibly careful with you. He made sure you never felt like you had to change who you were to fit into his world. “You’re already perfect,” he’d say, his voice soft but firm. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Curly Shepard

Curly first noticed you at a party when one of his friends pointed you out, saying, “Look at that angel over there.” At first, he rolled his eyes, but when he turned and saw you, his cocky smirk faltered. He wasn��t expecting someone who looked so… different and stunning.

He sauntered over to you with that signature swagger, crossing his arms and flashing you a grin. “So, what’s someone like you doin’ at a party like this? Slummin’ it with us hoods?” He meant it as a joke, but he couldn’t help the genuine curiosity in his tone.

Curly was the type to tease you relentlessly, calling you “Snow White” or “Frostbite,” but there was never any malice behind his words. If anything, it was his way of flirting and he loved how flustered you’d get.

He was fascinated by your albinism but didn’t ask a million questions like most people did. Instead, he’d make casual observations, like, “Your hair’s brighter than the streetlights, babe,” or, “You’re the first person I’ve met who can outshine the moon.”

Curly was protective to the extreme. If anyone stared at you too long or said something stupid, he’d immediately step in, cracking his knuckles and smirking dangerously. “ you got 3 seconds to apologize or I’m going to knock your face in’.”

He loved showing you off, especially to his gang. “Yeah, they’re with me,” he’d say proudly, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Ain’t they somethin’?”

Curly had no problem stealing things for you. If you mentioned wanting something, he’d show up with it the next day, shrugging nonchalantly when you asked how he got it. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, babe. Just call it a gift.”

He was always playful, constantly messing with you in the cutest ways. He’d steal your sunglasses, hold them above your head, and laugh as you tried to grab them back. “C’mon, you don’t need these. You’re already too cool.”

If you ever felt self conscious about standing out, Curly would be quick to shut it down. “Who cares what anyone else thinks? They’re just jealous they ain’t half as good lookin’ as you.”

He had a wild side and loved dragging you along on his adventures, whether it was sneaking into drive-ins, racing through town on a stolen bike, or just causing trouble in the neighborhood. “Stick with me, doll. Life’s never boring when you’re rollin’ with Curly Shepard.”

Despite his tough exterior, Curly had a soft side that he only showed to you. When it was just the two of you, he’d let his guard down, resting his head in your lap or holding your hand while you talked about everything and nothing.

He wasn’t great with romantic words, but he’d show his affection through his actions. Whether it was giving you his jacket on a chilly night or showing up to your house at midnight just to see you, he always found a way to remind you how much he cared.

One night, as the two of you sat on the hood of his car, staring at the stars, Curly turned to you and said, “You know, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I mean it.”

[dovesdreaming]

The softening edge

Summary: Readers love language is touch and Theo usually loves it until someone (ahem Draco who else) makes fun of Theo for it. He ends up pushing you away until he realised how much of an idiot he’s been.

Request

Masterlist

Warnings: none

-

Theodore Nott was used to being alone. He preferred it that way. It was simpler, quieter and free from the complications of messy emotions. But you, you had waltzed into his life with your bright smile and warm touches, wrapping him in a blanket of affection he didn’t know how to handle. At first, he had been wary, guarded, and unsure of what you wanted from him. But your persistence wore down his defenses, slowly, like the ocean smoothing out rough stones on the shore. And before he knew it, he found himself looking forward to the sound of your laughter, the light touches on his arm, and the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you smiled at him.

Today was no different. You met him in the common room, practically bouncing with energy, and immediately reached out to fix the collar of his shirt. He caught a whiff of your familiar perfume as you stood close, and something in his chest warmed, something he hadn’t felt in years. "You're always so put together, Theo” you teased, smoothing out an imaginary wrinkle. “But even perfection needs a little touch-up”. He rolled his eyes, but the corner of his lips tugged upward despite himself. “And that’s what you’re here for, I suppose?” “Obviously.” You grinned up at him, pleased with your handiwork. You reached up, gently combing your fingers through his hair to push it in the right direction that he liked and his breath hitched. It was so natural to you for you to touch him like this, but for him, it was foreign. Bewildering and addicting all at once.

Draco Malfoy watched from across the common room, a smirk playing on his lips. "Nott, you're getting soft” he sneered, his face filled with amusement. The other boys chuckled, and Theodore felt a prickle of irritation. He met Draco’s gaze, his expression hardening, but the damage was done. The words burrowed under his skin like thorns. Was he really becoming soft? Was he losing the edge that kept him safe, that kept people at a distance? He didn’t respond to Draco’s comment, but it echoed in his mind long after you’d said goodbye and headed off to your next class. The rest of the day, he was on edge, thinking about what Draco had said and how the others had laughed.

Later that evening, you found him again, this time in the library. You came up behind him, resting your chin on his shoulder as you read over his notes. “You work too hard, you know that?” you murmured, your voice soft in his ear. “You need to relax sometimes”. His entire body stiffened at your touch, Draco's words gnawing at him like a relentless parasite. He clenched his jaw, trying to suppress the irritation that was bubbling up inside him. You didn’t notice, still speaking in that gentle, affectionate tone that usually calmed him. But now, it felt suffocating.

“Stop” he snapped, his voice harsher than he intended. He shrugged you off, causing you to stumble back a step. You blinked, hurt flashing across your face. “Theo..” He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “I said stop. You’re always hovering, always- just, give me some space”. Your eyes widened, the warmth in them rapidly cooling into confusion and pain. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise..” “Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn’t be so clingy” he bit out, his words sharp enough to wound. He regretted them the moment they left his mouth, but it was too late.

You took a step back, as if physically recoiling from his words. The light in your eyes dimmed, replaced by something hollow. “I’ll..I’ll leave you alone, then”. Your voice was barely a whisper as you turned and walked away. Theodore stood there, rooted to the spot, watching you go. The library felt colder, emptier without you in it. He wanted to call out, to take back everything he’d just said, but his pride held his tongue. Instead, he sat back down, glaring at the parchment in front of him that suddenly seemed meaningless.

The next few days were unbearable. You avoided him, no longer seeking him out between classes or sitting beside him in the common room. Your absence was like a black hole, pulling at him, making everything seem dull and lifeless. He caught glimpses of you, always at a distance, your once bright demeanor now subdued. He missed your voice, your touch, the way you made everything feel less bleak. He missed you more than he thought possible. It was during one particularly lonely evening in the common room that he realized what a fool he had been. You had only ever been kind to him, offering warmth and light in a life that had been cold and dark for so long. And he had thrown it all away because he was too afraid of what it meant to care for someone. Draco's words echoed in his mind again, but this time, they brought clarity instead of confusion. He wasn’t getting soft. He was learning to let someone in, and that was the hardest, bravest thing he had ever done.

He had to make it right. The next day, he found you sitting by the lake, staring out at the water. He approached slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. When you noticed him, you didn’t smile; you didn’t even look surprised. You just watched him with those sad, tired eyes that made him feel like the worst kind of villain. He sat down beside you, close but not touching. The silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable. “I’m sorry” he finally said, his voice cracking slightly. “I didn’t mean what I said. I… I was an idiot”.

You didn’t respond at first, and he felt panic rising in his chest. What if he had ruined everything beyond repair? But then you spoke, your voice quiet and distant. “Why did you say it, Theo? What changed?”. He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “You heard what Draco said. That you were making me weak You looked at him, really looked at him, and he felt exposed under your gaze. “Do you really believe that?” Your eyebrows creased upwards, eyes laced with a mix of emotions.

“No” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But it scared me. I’ve spent my whole life trying to be strong, to be… untouchable. Letting someone in- it felt like losing control”. “And now?” you asked, your eyes searching his. “Now I realize that being with you.. it doesn’t make me weak. It makes me feel alive” He took a deep breath, his heart pounding. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I don’t want to push you away. I want… I want you. I need you”. His shoulders were tensed upwards trying to gage your reaction, his eyes revealing how desperate he seemed for your forgiveness.

You watched him for a long moment, the tension between you thick and suffocating. Then, slowly, you reached out and took his hand. “You really hurt me, Theo” you said, your voice soft but firm. “But.. I believe you’re sorry. Just don’t do it again, okay? If you need space, talk to me. Don’t shut me out”. “I won’t” he promised immediately agreeing to your terms while squeezing your hand. “I’ll do better. I swear”. You nodded, a small smile finally breaking through the sadness on your face. “Good. Because I like you, Theodore Nott, and I’m not going anywhere. You can’t get rid of me that easily”.

He felt a wave of relief wash over him, and for the first time in days, he allowed himself to smile. You allowed yourself to finally resort back your own nature of touch and leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around you, holding you close. Maybe Draco was right. Maybe he was getting soft. But if this was what it felt like to be soft, then Theodore Nott was more than willing to lose that battle.

-

Thank you for reading! Please send requests for him <3

[cameronsprincess]

rafe bullying you during sex until you cry and feeling a little bad when you’re still crying after and you get to have sweet-ish rafe >>>>

he’s so mean ���😣

CW: cry baby!reader, mean!bully!rafe, soft!rafe, unprotected sex, degrading and praise.

“why the fuck are you cryin’ huh? so fuckin’ pathetic, can’t even take my cock without turning into a little crybaby.”

rafe’s harsh words have more tears spilling down your cheeks. he was usually mean during sex, and you didn’t mind it, but he was being so mean today, and you weren’t sure why.

you hiccup, sniffling as you try and calm your breathing and get the tears under control. “i-i’m s-sorry… i- it hurts, r-rafe.”

“it hurts r-rafe,” he mocks, his hips never slowing their pace as he pounds himself inside you. “toughen the fuck up won’t ya?”

your arms wrap around his neck and you dig your nails into the smooth skin of his back. he hisses in a breath when he feels your long nails break the skin, “fuck, love fuckin’ this sweet cunt, love the way your nails dig into my back, you’re nothin’ but a hole for me to use, yeah?”

his hips pick up in speed, the swollen head of his cock repeatedly hitting your g-spot causing more tears to blur your vision. he was making you feel so good, but his words stung, he’d never made you feel so fucking worthless, like maybe he really did only view you as a hole for him to use, an outlet to get his frustrations out. you choke out a sob, your orgasm ripping through you hard, making your body shake and more tears flow uncontrollably down your face.

“that’s it, cum all over my cock. make a fuckin’ mess, such a good little slut.”

his hips begin to stutter, thrusts growing sloppier before he swells inside you, his dick pulsing as he cums deep inside you.

he stills completely, his head dropping into the crook of your neck, soft kisses being left on your slick skin. he slowly pulls himself from inside you, rolling off of you and onto his back.

you pull away from him, rolling onto your side and curling yourself into a fetal position, silent sobs wracking your body. you’re not even sure why you’re still crying, you know he probably didn’t mean any of the things he said… right? he couldn’t have actually meant all the mean and degrading things he said..

rafe places a gentle hand on your shoulder, rolling you to face him. his chest tightens when he sees the tears still flowing freely down your face. “hey.. talk to me, what’s wrong?”

your blood shot eyes meet his, “you.. you were being s-so mean… more than usual.. i-i just need a minute.”

rafe can’t help but feel guilty, he was frustrated when you came over, but he didn’t mean to take it all out on you. he knew you liked being degraded, but maybe he did take it too far this time.

he gently wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him. he holds you tightly, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head and softly running his fingers up and down your back.

“hey, i’m sorry.. i-i didn’t mean to take it too far, alright? i was just frustrated when you got here, and i know you don’t mind when i’m rough and degrading, but.. i guess i did take it too far.”

you sniff, burying your face deeper into his chest and inhaling his intoxicating scent. “s’fine. i-i just didn’t know if you actually meant all the mean things you were saying.. like am i just really a hole for you to use? do you not actually love me?”

rafe pushes you back, one hand gripping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. “absolutely not. i love you, more than i’ve ever loved anyone, alright? never ever think i don’t. i’m sorry, baby.”

RAFE TAGLIST: @princessslutt // @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles // @rafesthroatbaby // @sturnioloshacker // @starkeysprincess // @rafescurtainbangz // @atorturedpoetx // @redhead1180 // @jjsmarijuana // @romaescapes // @kisses4angel // @maybankslover // @bellbottombaby // @simars3 // @rafesgiirl // @urbimom // @heartsforrafecam // @antagonize-me-motherfucker // @araminsstuff075 // @araminsstufff // @chaneydoll // @bi-zowee // @uraesthete // @rafemotherfuckingcameron // @princesssuki21 // @zrm004 // @ijustwanttoreadlols // @baennied // @hyperfixationgirl // @justheretoreadthestories // @chiaraanatra // @chimindity // @juniebugg // @unsaidjaelinrose // @momoewn // @spid6y // @wearemadeofstardust0 // @vallovesyou

rafe cameron masterlist | requests | taglist form

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

Hii! I love love love all of your finnick fics! Could I please request a fic where reader is also a victor from an earlier game and she is in an established relationship with Finnick. They both get reaped (not the same district) for the 75th games and reader gets critically hurt in the part where the cornucopia spins. Like she falls into the water after maybe being injured and she can’t swim, so Finnick has to risk everything to save her life.

I’m really looking for like a hurt/comfort with a seriously injured reader and Finnick going through hell to save her because he cannot imagine a life without her in it.

Thank you so much if you’re willing to write this or something like it, feel free of course to change anything to your liking!

two souls, one heart | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick refuses to lose the love of his life. your inability to swim complicates things, especially when the cornucopia begins spinning.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: pre-established relationship, heavy angst, drowning, death, bone fracture

notes: thank you so much!!! i really enjoyed writing this, shed a few tears but still enjoyed it lmao. listen to 'beginning of the end movement v' by the newton brothers on repeat for the full experience <3

A quiet nursery rhyme was being sung by the water's edge.

The calm waves around the Cornucopia lapped at the rocks, the blistering sun causing the surface to sparkle. Wiress' voice interrupted Peeta as he mapped out the arena's clock-like wedges in the dirt. Everyone was focused on the map; you should have been too.

Dark blue ripples had your eyes captivated. So tranquil. So hauntingly beautiful. Loving the sea was in your blood, as your District Four was your home. You would think coming from a fishing district would mean your swimming abilities were mastered. In reality, they were practically non-existent. No matter how many times Finnick had attempted to give you lessons, they never stuck.

Neither of you seemed to care though, always too enraptured by simply being in each other's company—feeling Finnick's hands support your body as you floated on the surface...

"Don't you let go of me, Finnick Odair, or I swear to god I'll drown you."

"Will that be before or after you drown first?" he chuckled, though ultimately tightening his grip on your body in an attempt to reassure you.

....hysterically laughing when he got wiped out by a sudden wave...

"No way! I can't—" You broke into a fit of laughter— "I can't believe that just happened!"

"Are you laughing at me, sweetheart?" Finnick asked, trudging through the water towards you, his hair drenched and swept across his forehead.

"Yes!"

You doubled over, knees buckling as you struggled to contain your laughter. Despite trying to put up a serious front, Finnick too let a few chuckles slip at the hysterical sight of you.

"Oh really?"

Just like that, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down into the cold water, earning him a squeal just before you crashed together below the surface.

...and washing up on the sandy shore in each other's arms, salty lips capturing one another.

"I'm covered in sand," you murmured against Finnick's lips.

He gave you another kiss before pulling away. "It's okay," he said, pecking your lips again. "I'll help you wash off in the shower when we get back." And then sent you a stomach-flipping grin.

Even though you wouldn't trade those memories for the world, if you had known your life would soon depend on the ability to swim, you would have paid much more attention to the lessons.

Finnick stood closely beside you, his trident digging into the dirt as he gripped it tightly in case of an attack. He had noticed your drifted attention, observing the way your eyes stared at the rippling water, like death was lurking just beneath the surface waiting to drag you down to the murky depths.

He could protect you from most things in the arena, but fear was something entirely different. A trident couldn't defeat the darkness in your mind.

A hand slid onto your lower back, rubbing gentle strokes to gain your attention. Your gaze tore from the blinding blue and settled onto Finnick's face beside you, watching his mouth curve into a light smile. You knew the silent words he was trying to convey: 'You're okay, sweetheart. I've got you.'

For a fleeting moment, the anxiety had disappeared. How could anything ever go wrong with Finnick by your side? The corners of your mouth quirked, preparing to send him a smile in response. But it never came. Something new had caught your attention. The woman by the water was no longer singing.

Wiress had been murdered.

The second Katniss let her arrow fly into Gloss' chest, everything around you seemed to explode into action. Anything that could go wrong would go wrong—Murphy's Law. And it did.

The Careers had initiated an attack.

Charging forward from the waterside was Cashmere, determined to avenge her brother's death. Instinct quickly kicked in and the spear in your hand was sent barrelling through the air and into her chest. As you watched her body slump to the ground, an enraged yell came from the side.

Finnick was fighting Brutus.

With your only weapon lodged within Cashmere's chest, aiding Finnick was impossible. Enobaria revealed herself beside Brutus, displaying her vicious fangs and throwing a dagger that sliced a small cut across Finnick's shoulder. Though the wound was minor, your heart lurched as he cried out in pain.

Before a single thought in your brain could form, your legs were moving. Not towards Finnick, but after Enobaria. Remember who the real enemy is—screw that. Finnick could have died. Your Finnick. He called out your name, his voice hoarse and frayed, but you continued on, hatred fuelling each step. It seemed Katniss and Johanna had the same idea, following behind you with their weapons bared.

Salt water sprayed onto your face, but you paid it no attention. Nor did you notice as the jungle surrounding the island began to blur into one overwhelming hue of green. Only when your body was thrown to the harsh rocky terrain did you realise what was happening.

The Cornucopia had started to spin.

Nothing could compare to the terror you felt as gravity's merciless force dragged your body toward the violent waves surging against the rocks. Just as your lower legs breached the edge, a hand grabbed onto your own. Katniss. She too was hanging onto Johanna whose only lifeline was an axe buried in the rocks.

A moment—that was all you were given to scan your surroundings. Supplies and sharp-edged weapons were flying everywhere. White water was spraying into the air. Finnick, who was thirty feet away, was gripping onto a rock ledge whilst keeping Beetee from sliding into the furious waves. His head turned to the side and even from a great distance, your eyes met.

It was at that moment you knew, you just knew the odds weren't going to be in your favour. God forbid you lived a simple happy life with the man you loved, days spent together on a calm beach. God forbid the Gamemakers gave you one last chance to be in his arms. God forbid you survived.

And with that sudden realisation, the universe, sick as it was, decided it was time.

Your hand began slipping from Katniss's; an unseen tear fell from your eye, and you smiled. A smile of goodbye sent to the love of your life. His face contorted into one of agony, lips moving but you couldn't hear his voice over the roaring waves. Still, you knew exactly what he was shouting.

"NO! NO!"

There was nothing he could do but watch your body disappear into the waves, repeating over and over "no, no, no," and praying his cruel eyes had deceived him. They hadn't.

Dark blue was in every direction you looked. The undertow tossed and rolled your body like a ragdoll in a washing machine and despite your attempts to swim, the surface only seemed to be slipping further and further out of your reach. Darkness engulfed you, so thick that you couldn't tell which way was up or down. That was when the panic set in.

Your arms and legs thrashed frantically, struggling against the water's force, desperate to reach safety or an air pocket. Cold water flooded your throat as you gasped uncontrollably. You screamed as every attempt at breathing felt like fire burning in your lungs. Finnick. Where was he? Where were you? What was happening? Why wouldn't it stop?

Thoughts submerged your mind in terror, and you were powerless to stop them. All you could do was feel. Pain. Fire. Burning

At some point, the Cornucopia had ceased its spinning and your body came to a rest in the water. An eerie calm suddenly washed over you; a sense of clarity stilled your wild movements. This was the end. There was no future. No hope. The world above wasn't yours to call home anymore. You now belonged to the sea.

Of course, your water-logged mind had forgotten that home was where the heart was, and your heart was still beating... above the surface, in the aching chest of another.

Tendrils of hair floated around your face like fronds of seaweed. Rays of sunlight penetrated the surface, turning the surroundings a vibrant sparkly blue. As you sank further down, the water, now a comfortable lukewarm, cradled you in its embrace. It felt safe, like being in Finnick's arms again. Like home.

You gazed at the sun's rays; they looked beautiful. You felt beautiful. But time was running out and the bright light soon began shrouding your entire vision, though not before you witnessed a dark figure dive beneath the waves.

**********

Finnick loved the ocean. He spent most days in District Four down by the beach, swimming, spearfishing, and watching the sun rise and set on the blue horizon. If he believed in reincarnation, he would have imagined himself to be a lionfish or dolphin in his past life, living in an underwater world, free from tyranny and oppression. He loved the ocean.

But that love was incomparable to what he felt for you. So, when he dove into the rocky waters to save you and felt the currents fighting against him, he determined there was nothing he hated more than the ocean. Not as he watched its strong grip drag your motionless body further down below him.

Your back had just touched the soft seabed when he swam far enough down to envelope you in his embrace. He should have swum you back to the surface immediately, but in his distressed state, he couldn't help but foolishly stare at your lifeless appearance. Your skin was blue. It's just the water's colour, he told himself. Your eyes were closed. She's just asleep. Your neck didn't pulse under his touch. She's... She's...

He had no justification for that. Feet planted firmly on the sandy floor, he propelled both himself and you back up to the surface. As Finnick paddled back to the Cornucopia, the others reached down and helped lift your limp body onto the rocks.

"Is she...?"

"Peeta," Katniss quietly reprimanded him.

Finnick paid them no attention. He said nothing but trauma screamed in his eyes. His breathing was ragged and his hands were trembling as he frantically checked your pulse again—in both your wrists and your neck; he even pressed his ear to your chest. All he heard was the waves lapping against the rocks.

"No," he whispered again.

It seemed to be all he could say anymore. No. No, this couldn't be happening. You were just standing beside him a few minutes ago; your eyes were just looking into his. However much he tried to deny reality, it didn't seem to make it any less true. You were gone.

He choked out a rough determined breath, interlocked his hands over your chest, and began pressing repeatedly over your heart. Wet strands of tangled hair were strewn across the rocks like dead seaweed. The usual soft pink accompanying your cheeks was nowhere to be seen, devoid of any life.

"Come on, sweetheart," he muttered before pulling down your chin to blow air into your lungs. The kiss of life. And when nothing happened as he pulled away, he restarted the chest compressions. "Oh, don't do this to me," he begged, voice breaking. "Don't do this. Breathe."

Any moment now. Any moment, your eyes would flutter open, the colour would return to your glowing skin, and your heart would beat with life beneath his hands. Your lips would whisper his name and he would pull you into his arms, where he would keep you safe until the end of time.

"Breathe."

Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Nothing. He did it again. Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Silence. Maybe he should've just ripped his heart out and replaced yours with his own. Death would come for him within seconds but hearing something beating inside your chest would've made the sacrifice worth it.

Life would flash before his eyes and your beaming smile would be the last thing he'd get to see. His last thought would be of relief that you were alive.

Johanna rested a tentative hand on Finnick's shoulder. "Finnick, she's—"

"No, she's not!" he exclaimed, continuing his movements. "She's fine. Aren't you, baby? You're fine." He cupped your jaw, his thumb stroking your soft skin before he pressed his lips to yours and blew twice. "You're fine."

The golden bangle around his wrist glimmered in the sunshine as he pressed on your ribcage. All he had to do was keep you alive until Plutarch rescued everyone. One simple task and he failed.

"Finnick, we have to go," someone said. Who? He didn't know nor care.

Leave me, he wanted to say. Leave me here to die. Let the Careers mutilate my body, take my life, my last breath, but let it be by her side.

Something cracked beneath his palms and he knew one of your ribs had fractured. His arms stilled, half-expecting you to cry out in pain but then he remembered. And with that sickening crack came a devastating realisation—you really were gone.

A sob erupted from his throat and his head fell to your chest, drenching your already-soaked wetsuit with hot tears. Everything else seemed to disappear. The arena, the Careers who could attack again at any moment, the spectators who were avidly watching. Everything.

It was just him and you. He didn't care that his screams and deafening sobs could bring unwanted attention or jeopardise the group's safety. Any tribute with half a mind would know crossing him in such a state would be a fatal flaw. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter. Nothing mattered. Life no longer had meaning.

Finnick pulled your lifeless body onto his lap and cradled you protectively in his arms, lightly rocking back and forth. His forehead rested against your own, cold and damp. You always were the cold one, needing his touch to light a fire beneath your skin. He loved having you rely on him for warmth, but not like this.

"Come back to me, baby, please," he begged almost inaudibly. Tears were running down his cheeks as he brushed pieces of hair away from your face. His lips were on yours once more, heartbroken and painfully delicate; not to fill your lungs with air, but to fill your heart with his love in the hopes it would be enough to bring it back to life. "Don't leave me."

Pleas, prayers, begs, and wishes flew past his lips, over and over. And then they stopped and Finnick simply stared. Silence fell across the entire arena. The birds didn't chirp, the other tributes remained quiet, and the trees stood still. Even the water had calmed, resembling a perfectly flat mirror.

Finnick only had three words left on his tongue. Three final words to give you, wherever it was that you were. He slowly leaned down, squeezed his stinging eyes shut, and pressed a long farewell kiss to your forehead. His eyes remained closed as he parted from your skin, unable to take another look as he whispered his final goodbye.

"I love you."

And then, for the first time since he had rescued you from the blue depths, he felt his heart beating again. Just like yours was.

**********

There was a voice, distant yet reassuring—a lifeline to consciousness. Black was all there was. Coldness was all that was felt. It was desolate. But that voice... that voice was so anguished yet so familiar and encouraging that it lit a fire inside your chest, warming you from the inside out.

In the distance of the dark void was a figure, their body made entirely out of a pulsating golden light. Each word the voice spoke enhanced the light's brightness. "Come... me, please..." Brighter. "Don't leave..." And brighter.

The light was warm and comforting, just like the voice attached to it. Whoever's voice it was that brought the light resonated deep in your mind, tugging at the strings within your heart.

Your heart.

The thumping in your chest was weak, almost non-existent, but it was still there. Though it seemed time was running out. Pitch-black darkness outweighed the golden light ten-to-one; you could feel its cold breath creeping onto your back. So, you started running towards the figure. Sprinting. Until all that surrounded you was golden.

"I love you."

Water. At first, it came trickling out in two fluid streams from the sides of your mouth. Then suddenly, it was spraying into the air as choked coughs forced the liquid from your burning lungs. Light flooded your vision—not golden and inviting, but vivid and overwhelming.

There was something warm beneath your legs, against your arm, rubbing at your back, holding you in an upright position. While you heaved, dry-retched, and gasped, that soothing warmth remained.

As your airways began to clear and the expulsion of water ceased, your half-lidded eyes rolled around the area. Still dazed and disoriented, you struggled to make out what surrounded you. There was immense rippling blue, vibrant hues of green in the distance, dark rough grey beneath you, and elongated blobs of colour that stood a few feet away.

"Just–just keep breathing, sweetheart." That voice. The one belonging to the figure of light that brought you back. It was madly repeating the same words over and over. "You're okay", "Deep breaths", and "You're alive."

Shaky fingers brushed the stray wet strands of hair from your face. So warm. With the little energy you had, your head turned to seek out the golden light again. And you found it.

The blinding sun shining down reflected off his bronze hair, turning it a divine golden hue. His brows were raised and scrunched together as though he couldn't possibly believe what he was seeing. Deep lines were etched into his tear-streaked skin, evidence of his previous turmoil. Those sea-green eyes stared at you, afraid that if he so much as blinked, you would fall lifeless in his arms once more.

"You're here," he whispered.

Finnick. YourFinnick. Your light.

When your eyes met, a splitting grin lit up his face, made up of an inconceivable amount of raw emotion. You weren't sure what to do—smile, laugh, cry, kiss him? Your mind was scrambled, overwhelmed with love for the beautiful golden-haired man in front of you.

Without warning, your face scrunched up and the tears began flowing. You weren't sure why you were crying. Maybe it was because you had just been brought back from the brink of death; maybe it was because you couldn't believe someone actually cared so deeply about you.

Finnick cradled your face in his hand. "It's okay," his voice trembled, tears now cascading down his cheeks. His smile, however, never disappeared. "You're okay. You're safe now. I'm not letting you go."

He took your face into two large hands, brought you to his lips, and pressed a tender kiss to each tear that rolled over your skin. One of your hands rested over his; the other was placed against his chest, feeling it rise and fall so you could synchronise your breaths.

His arms moved to pull you tightly against him, almost like he was trying to merge your body with his. Or perhaps, it was your soul. You didn't care about the pain aching in one of your ribs. You wanted to tell him that his soul was already intertwined with your own, but words couldn't describe the sentiment as profoundly as you felt it.

In the simplest of terms your water-logged brain could muster, you whispered, "You're my light, Finnick."

Brows scrunched together, he looked down at you, fighting back the urge to start sobbing in your arms. If he had been anywhere else, if there wasn't an entire country watching, he would've gone on for hours, explaining how stupidly, selfishly, and incredibly in love with you he was.

But he couldn't do that. Not now. So, he placed his hand over the one you had resting on his chest and readjusted its position. He could feel the thumping, even through your palm.

Your eyes were full of emotion as you stared up into his. You already knew what his next words were going to be and for the first time since you were thrown into the water from the Cornucopia, you smiled.

Rhythmically, your hand and his pulsed together. Finnick's gaze flickered across your face and he grinned. "You're my heart."

[solaerina]

𓂃 ˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀𓂃𓈒 ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴍɪɴᴇ 𓈒𓂃⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖

𖥔 ͙ࣳ 𓂃ˑ ֗ ˖⋆⑅ ᴄʜʀɪꜱᴛᴍᴀꜱ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ⑅⋆˖ ֗ˑ𓂃 ͙ࣳ𖥔

✿ ⋆.ೃ࿔:･ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴅɢᴇʜᴏɢ x [ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ] ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

: ̗̀➛ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴏɴᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴏᴜᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀʟʏ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴇꜱᴄᴀʟᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ A ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴍɪꜱᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴀɴᴅɪɴɢ.

: ̗̀➛ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ[ꜱ]: none ˖ . ݁ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀི

: ̗̀➛ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4.1𝚔

➹ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀꜱ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛꜱ: ᴍɪᴋᴇʏᴋᴜɴꜱ, ʙᴇʀɴᴀʀᴅʙᴇɴᴅʏꜱᴛʀᴀᴡꜱ | edited | AO3 Ver. | Mobian Reader

The bitter coldness of the evening bit at your furs. The warm lights shone through the delicate mist of the night. It was that time of the year where people rejoice on the eve of christmas. Folks passed, some of them had their hands intertwined chatting on with their lives. Romance floated strong and thick across the atmosphere, unfading. 

The touch of sadness roamed your heart in circles, loneliness greeting you like the autumn’s fall bequeathed by the winter’s chill. Here you sat on the bench alone, shivering in your boots. Shadow had gone and never came back. You supposed that this whole date set up took a toll on his patience and probably headed home. Shadow was not the one to engage in such activities but..a moment between you under the romantic occasion wouldn’t hurt to experience just for once. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have persuaded him with this. You might have forced him to go with you out of his will. The guilt jabbed at your heart like a needle. How could you have been so dense? Of course Shadow was not the one to blend into some pointless dates! Now you must have made him mad or ruined his mood. 

Your fingers screwed through the fabrics of your dress and bit your inner lip as your gaze lowered. Dozens of negative thoughts rammed through your head as you sunk into the depths of it. Too lost at detesting yourself, someone had approached you and called your name, unnoticed by you. Until they knelt before your level and tapped gently at your cheek. Surprised by the unwelcome gesture, you snapped away from your trance and was tugged back into reality. Your head lifted right up and your eyes met with familiar red ones you’ve been longing to gaze on the entire evening, donned in a brown coat with a red scarf wrapped around his neck to keep him warm. 

“Shadow?” His name fell onto your lips before you knew it. How you missed him. It took you great restraint from jumping to him and hugging him tight, never wanting him to disappear from your sight ever again. Yet, Shadow was not the one who is accustomed to physical contacts. If forcing him to engage with you unwillingly on this date was not bad enough, then you should start to refrain yourself from now on. 

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, your voice almost failing you as if you were about to break any second, casting your eyes downwards again. “This date was a bad idea and I shouldn’t have forced you to go with me,” you failed to see the crease of the dark hedgehog’s expression as you continued to ramble out. “I’m  sorry on making you go even though I knew that you’re not used on this kind of things I just..” you pause for a second, needing a moment of reprieve by the heavy weight on your chest, your ears flattening against your head as a look of pure sadness painted your complexion. “I just wanted to spend time with you..” your voice drops, barely above a whisper. 

And it was followed by silence, receiving no answer from the black hedgehog himself. This caused an anxiety to stir inside your chest, thinking you might have made his mood sour that it’s already been. He might think that you were being  too ‘clingy’ for his liking. Were you acting rather persistent than you  realised? What if he decided to leave you  after this?

You heard Shadow give out a sigh, light and soft. One of your ears flicks at the sound. 

“How did you come to that conclusion?” Shadow finally spoke, his voice calm and steady. “You didn’t force me into anything,” he stated and raised a hand to show a cup he’s been holding in his hand, “I bought a coffee in the nearby shop here. Didn’t I tell you that?” 

Coffee? 

You look back up again and see the cup in the black hedgehog’s gloved hand. “The temperature had gone way lower than it probably should. I figured a hot beverage would keep you warm for the time being.” 

The sadness that once enveloped you was now replaced by a delicate flow of confounded relief. Did he really.. “You’re not mad?” you ask him quietly. 

Shadow raised a brow, your question bemusing him. “Why would I be?” 

You meet his eyes, his red irises boring deep into yours. Pleasant warmth creeped up into your neck and climbed towards your face, spreading the heat throughout your furs. 

“I thought you were getting annoyed by all this. Spending your time with me and dragging you throughout this place. You were suddenly gone and I couldn’t find you anywhere,” you meekly explained to him as a tiny smog wisps out from your lips from the winter’s air. 

A faint gleam surfaces from Shadow’s red eyes, barely visible that you failed to catch it. “I wasn’t,” he says as he took a moment to look around the wintry place; people with friends, family, and even the lovers passing by. He studied them as if figuring out if this is how they bond with each other when seasons like this occur. “This is all new to me. It didn’t sit right with me at first to be in this place, to be associated with many people since I am accustomed to solitude for a long time. However,” Shadow returned his gaze to you and you swore that you saw a glimpse of underlying crumble of the pensive, stern demeanor that hardened him, to a frontage display of vulnerability that resided deep somewhere in his heart. 

“..If it’s with you, then I’m willing to try and allow myself to adapt in this conforming world of yours. If that would cost me to see the look of joy of contentment in your face.” he professes, straightforwardly, his deep voice wreathed in pure and distilled sincerity that even it could quell the flame’s scorching disaster. 

You stared at him wide-eyed, flabbergasted, lost at words. Your heart raced against your ribcage as it ached to burst out. There was a constant tingle in your nerves, a tickle to your bloodstream, and a strew of downy sensation mending through your furs. Did Shadow always sound this daring and upfront? Or does he have a way of picking his words?

Either way, with each time that passes by, the longer you know him, the more you discover a part of him that you never expected to see. He was a man who was shrouded in obscurity, hard to decipher what runs inside his thoughts. 

Flame burned the surface of your face and covered it  with your gloved hands, embarrassment taking over you. Yet, the wagging of your fluffy tail from behind betrayed your concealment. Shadow caught the motion and the corner of his lips quirks into a small smirk, amused. 

“I thought you’d left me,” you murmur behind your hand, unable to look Shadow in the eye. At this rate, you were surely convinced that there were steams coming out of your now reddened ears. Then, a hand came to your wrist and gently pulled it away from your face. “I would never leave you here alone. You were probably too focused on watching the performer a while ago that you were unable to hear what I told you.” 

Your cheeks burned in embarrassment as you recalled Shadow telling you something while you were watching the performer do his tricks to entertain people. What an oblivious girl you were. “I’m sorry..”

“None of that,” Shadow replies and gestured the cup towards you, offering for you to take it. “Here, drink it before it gets cold.”

You look at him bashfully for another seconds before you softly smile, touched by his genteel gesture and took the cup from him. 

Shadow then got up from his knee and sat on the bench beside you. You blew the airy steam of your caffeine before taking a small sip, a calming relief flooding your senses as the liquid flows through you. While you were sipping on your coffee, a warm sensation was felt around your neck and you turned your head to see Shadow wrapping his red scarf around you.

“It’s getting colder out here,” he says to you while he worked his hands on the red scarf until it was loosely secured enough to give room for you to breathe and ensured it wouldn’t come off.  

Tingles of bubbly sensation formed in your guts. The scent of him wafted from the soft cotton on your neck, your fingers coming to gingerly caress the fabric on her skin. “Thank you, Shadow.”

Under the tranquility of the winter eve, the chill of the breeze went on and blew through the atmosphere in its tender currents. In the midst of the stillness, a group of people appeared carrying various instruments. They worked on arranging and organizing their equipment until they were all prepared to play a ballad for the crowd. 

The song starts in a delicate strum of violin, resonating throughout the atmosphere. Then it was followed by a soft hum of brass, coupled along with the piano and trumpet, until it formed into a lovely continuous play of the ballad, adding more charm to the winter’s eve. People were starting to take interest at the song; gathering around in two or more as joyous chatters and laughs left them as a mirthful aura spreaded across the area. Some of them started to sway along, dancing leisurely to their heart’s content with their lovers or friends while the children played and ran around.

“How lovely,” you mutter in awe, watching as the scene unfolds through your eyes. Shadow was watching as well, observing the way people interact with each other, how they were in sync with the song as they laughed in merriment to the delightful hour. 

“Do you want to join them?” 

Your eyes flickered to him, astonishment written all over your face, lips parted. Shadow, the Ultimate Lifeform, asking you to join along the people who are dancing? The world must be healing itself. 

“Do you mean to ask me for a dance?” You question, wanting to make sure if Shadow’s invitation is purely honest. Your tail ruffles lightly behind as you anticipate his answer. 

The black hedgehog shifts on his seat and teared his eyes from you, adjusting his scarf around his neck. That was odd, his neck felt warmer than usual and tight for some reason. “Maybe, I am.” He answers without looking at you. 

You blinked as you gazed at him. If there were things you knew about Shadow, he is good in nature, selfless, someone who cares for people but doesn’t know how to express it. And by so, he puts an effort to understand those around him, noticing the little things that they like, seeing through them, and most importantly protecting them from harm in the only way he knows how. In the image of a tough exterior to cover his weakness, concealing his true self that still lingered within him since the day of the tragic fate that had befallen him and took away the girl he cherished the most. 

Somewhere in him, there was still that innocent boy trapped inside him, longing to find where he belonged, someone he can call home, someone to hold him and shield him away from all the perils that seek to pursue him.

Not wanting to wait for long enough, you gave him an answer, “I would love to, Shadow,” a soft, tender smile bloomed across your youthful face, bearing that resemblance of a flower blossoming into a full bloom in its vibrant color. 

Shadow returned his gaze to you, his sanguine eyes boring into yours. His expression was unreadable, but not unreadable enough for you to perceive the faint spark that lingered in his sharp-red eyes before quickly vanishing. 

“That’s settled, then,” he states before standing up from his seat and offering you a hand. You took it and he gently pulled you up to his feet. He asks you if you already drank all of your coffee and you answer him with a ‘yes’ before he takes the empty cup and throws it away at the nearby trash can, not missing the target.

And so the two pairs went on their way to join the little crowd that continued to waltz the night away. Shadow was ahead of you, guiding your way where you both would situate yourselves among the people. His hand felt hot against yours. The hands that were used to destroy anything that imposes threat – a stark contrast of how he was holding your hand like a fragile glass, as if he was afraid to break it.

It didn’t take long for them to find their place. The engaging ballad stayed roaming free across the area in a beautiful trail of melody, whispering songs in the cold air. You faced one another. Your heart skipped a beat, nervousness claiming your being. 

To dance with a partner requires holding together as one. 

Your cheeks burned at the thought. Shadow, as if sensing your feelings, took the initiative action and grabbed one of your hands to hold it with his while he rested the other on his shoulder, leading them both to sway along with the people. A soft gasp escaped your lips, taken aback, your heart jumping inside your chest. The feeling intensified when the firm yet warm sensation of his hand held the side of your waist, then the mesmerizing image of his red eyes scribbled in restrained emotions, their rims glinting as if they told a million words yet remained unspoken. 

“Is this everything that you hoped for?” Shadow utters under his breath, staring deeply into your eyes. You hold his gaze, and find yourself being trapped in. There was always something in his voice that comforted you, though deep but strangely captivating. You softly smiled at him and nodded. 

“It is,” you answer, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Out of the corner of Shadow’s lips, it curled into a small smile. Something he rarely shows to people he’s fond of. “Let’s make this a little more livelier, shall we?” 

You look at him with curiosity. Before you can ask him what he meant by his words, Shadow suddenly lets go of your waist and uses the hand that was still locked in yours to twirl you around. A high-pitched startled noise left you, clearly not expecting for Shadow to do such a lively gesture yet he did. And since when did he learn the concept of dancing?

You weren’t able to grasp what his next move would be, because you were suddenly swept off the ground, high in the air with two strong hands holding your waist and spun you around in a quick circle. You let out another noise, higher this time and a little louder, then followed by an enthusiastic laughter. You felt the ground on your feet again as you were carefully placed down back to Shadow’s arms.

“Where did you learn how to do that?” you asked breathlessly as you panted, your hands coming to hold onto his shoulders and rested your head against it. Your heart was palpitating fast. 

“I have my ways,” Shadow simply answers, as he envelops his arms around you back to steady your wobbly figure. 

You gave out an airy chuckle, still breathless from your recent activity. After all this time, Shadow never ceases to surprise you, uncovering yet another newfound part of him that existed. You pull your head away from his shoulder to look at him, a soft satisfied smile gracing your features. You locked eyes again. 

You’ve never been this close to each other. 

Your noses almost touched, bodies wrapped into one another with no gap left to separate you and him. It took a few moments for them to realize the angle they were in before the awareness struck in. Both of the pair’s eyes widened and quickly adjusted themselves, resuming back to their previous stance. Shadow cleared his throat and looked to the side, while you were trying your best to recollect your  jumbled thoughts of what just occurred, trying to calm your beating heart down. 

“Are you enjoying yourself so far?” Shadow asked, cutting the awkwardness that passed over them a while ago. 

Your heart had already  simmered down and finally recollected yourself, beaming a smile at him. “Of course, I am. Very so!”

Shadow’s expression softened at your words, far from the usual stern face he shows at all times. He didn’t say anything after that. 

The winterly night went on. The number of people became fewer as they went on ahead in their lives, their enjoyment throughout the evening already spent. The musicians stayed as they continued to perform their song, seemingly lost in their own world, filling the area with a sea of ambience.  

The cold air grew more potent as time passed by. But that coldness didn’t seem to trouble the two pairs, the warmth of their bodies preventing the chill to seep into their furs. 

“Hey, Shadow,” You called quietly to the black hedgehog to which he responded with a hum. “Did I ever mention that your eyes are pretty?” 

Shadow’s ear twitched as his left brow arched, intrigued. “My eyes?” 

“Mm-hm,” you smiled gingerly, her lids creasing as your irises twinkled in fondness. “I always love looking at them. It reminds me of the times when I would look at the red sky and watch as the sun slowly lowers from the horizon while I admire it from afar. It’s truly beautiful to see, just like yours.” 

Shadow’s eyes expanded, a shift in his demeanor as his lips parted. There was a speck of vulnerability that danced in the rims of his irises. But then it soon disappears and a look of disdain loomed over him and darted his eyes away. 

“You shouldn’t think of such sentimental thoughts. You overvalue your perceptions towards me. You know where I came from don’t you? What I’m created of?” his voice lowers, the tone cold as ice and sharp as a knife.

Both of them ceased their movements as mild tension hung between them. Sadness fell into you as your chest tightened. How quickly his demeanor has changed; earlier he was warming up to you as he appeared to be in a lighter mood and now, it immediately faded. The delicate look on his red eyes, she wanted to see them again. 

Shadow’s expression was strained, as if he’s relieving a horrible memory, how the self-loathe rekindles in him, despising his existence. You felt his hand tensed against yours. Whatever he was feeling right now, it’s taking a dreadful turn on his mood. 

“Hey,” you softly implore him and ever so gently, you unlatch your hand that holded him and place it on his cheek and carefully tilt it to meet your gaze. “You told me that story before, right?” you utter to him, reminiscing the time where he hesitated to tell you of his origins, how he was created, and his previous life at the Ark. It’s as if he didn’t want you to know whose blood that runs in him, and how he almost destroyed the Earth once out of hatred and revenge against humanity.

It took a second for Shadow to answer before he nodded. Your thumb fondly stroked the fur under his lids as you spoke, “Then do you remember what I told you after telling me your story?” You were answered with a nod again. Shadow remains quiet but is clearly paying attention to you.

“Then my words are the same as before. It doesn’t matter how you were born or whose blood you are connected with. You are way more than what you think of yourself. You’re you, Shadow. It’s what you do that makes you who you are, what you choose to be. And that includes protecting this world, humanity, and us. So please..”  you breathed, a melancholic gaze dawning on your features as you sadly smiled at him, your glassy eyes imploring. 

“Don’t hate yourself any longer. Don’t turn blind to the true value that resides in your soul.”

If there was the least you can do to ease the deep scar in his heart, is to be there for him through his dark times.

Shadow didn’t say anything. The only evidence of acknowledgement you could grasp was the spark in his gaze. His eyes screamed in dozens of emotions more than he could show, words that were left unspoken that ached to be told. 

Then, a tiny pale white particle fell over Shadow's nose. Followed by the other as it landed on his black furs, the shade of its contrast visible. More and more of the ice particles fell down from the sky until it became a semblance of a drizzle of rain. 

Shadow looks up, witnessing the first snow of the month pouring down from the greyish sky. He breathes silently, casting a light, transparent smoke to waft from his lips. He remembers a certain girl telling him once, aboard in the Ark where it’s only just the two of them as they both studied the seasonal occasions on the Earth with a book. Winter was the one she greatly wished to experience, rambling how they would play in the pile of snow, build a snowman, make an angel pattern on the snowy ground, everything else the season has to offer. But one thing stuck to his mind. 

“It says here that snow symbolizes innocence and a fresh start to life. Can you imagine how lovely would that be, Shadow? When we’re finally on Earth, we can start over and witness the beautiful experience of winter’s embrace! I can’t wait for that moment to come!”

He closed his eyes as he relieved the fond memory of his past, feeling the droplets of snow falling to his face and quills as he lost himself in it. Are you watching over me, Maria?

“Shadow?” a soft voice calls out. Shadow breaks out from his moment of reprieve. He opened his eyes again and casted his head down, meeting your gaze once more.

He knew that wishful dream between them would never come true. 

But wishes don’t always have to be one sided for him. She wanted him to be happy after all.

People around them bustled with life and merriment, overjoyed by the sight of the snow pouring constantly on their figures. The song had stopped too, the performers seemingly distracted by the winter’s grace visit. 

You thought you might have said something wrong or exaggerated your words, because Shadow was being silent longer than he should. You open your mouth to express your apology but before you could, Shadow had leaned in and rested his forehead against yours. Gone were the scornful gleam in his red eyes as they now swam in sincerity and longing. You nearly gasped at the contact, your breath stolen from you. 

“Perhaps I should start making memories with you from now on.” Shadow declares, his voice quiet but soft. One that he never thought he’s capable of sounding like. 

Your eyes widened at his statement in shock. He took the words completely right out of you, rendering you unable to form any sentences. Somersaults came breaking in through your chest, a strong wave of adrenaline coursing through your nerves. Never in your life would you ever hear such declarations coming from him. It sounded like a vow he forged between you. It’s as if you’ve  reached the stars in the sky, for they have blessed her with their divine gift. 

“W-What is it with you and the way you talk? It’s..unfair.” The entirety of your face turned bleak red all the way down to your neck, the close proximity between sending wild races to your heart. You feared it wouldn’t calm down after this. 

Shadow only gave you a sided smirk and to your disappointment, he pulled away from you too soon. 

“We should head home,” he said while looking around the area, observing whether the snowfall would amplify its strength as it will be difficult to ride in the thick pile of snow down in the road later on. 

Meanwhile, you still haven’t recovered prior to your blissed out emotions, hot steams blowing out from your ears. How could he act so normally after what he just did?!

And then again, there are still more time for them to unravel your moments together. Or even so, maybe there will be a time where Shadow can fully accept himself. 

author’s notes: another fic of shadow yeyyy! I hope you like this fic I’ve written. I was actually planning to write for the Idol! Shadow but this concept really took an idea out of me since Christmas is nearing! So Merry Christmas to you all and more for our beloved ultimate lifeform fics shall be written! Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! ♡ ꒰ˆ. . ˆ ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི꒱੭ﾞ

[ripeandsoft]

Hi Monae how are you babes? Can I request for terry and his wife having sex for the first time since their baby was born and she was trying to cover up her post baby body after having her baby.

🥺

A/n: I’m good baby! I’m so sorry this took so long, me and my brain weren’t friends lol. Please accept this as an early Christmas gift and apology! I hope you enjoy, feedback is always appreciated 💕

Content warnings: mentions of postpartum insecurity, gentle sex?, oral, a spank or two (i couldn’t help it), mirror sex, fluffy sweetness all around, also barely proofread oops

—

“Diapers, bottles, bibs, pacifiers…” You paced around the nursery as you packed your daughter Josie’s diaper bag. She was laying in her crib, fresh from the bath and drifting off to sleep under the musical chime of her mobile. Terry was quiet as he ambled up the stairs with extra clean bottles and formula. The shadow of you flitting around her room like a mad woman on the hallway wall made Terry laugh. This was Josie’s first time being away from you guys for two whole nights and your nerves were through the roof.

“Calm down baby, you know my mama will take good care of her” Terry sat the bottles and formula on the dresser next to her bag, coming up behind you to rub his hands soothingly down your arms. You leaned back into him and you closed your eyes to take a deep breath. You couldn’t help but be anxious. This was the longest you’d be away from your baby since she was born. You knew Mrs. Richmond wouldn’t let a curl on Josie’s head be touched but your nerves were still crackling with anxiety.

“I know, ‘m just nervous” Your words were hushed as you turned to loop your arms around his waist. “I’m glad we’ll have some alone time. Maybe even get some good sleep, give the baby monitor a rest for the weekend” Terry rocked the both of you back and forth in his embrace. You hummed against him, the warmth of his body against yours making your eyes close in comfort.

Soft gurgles spilled from Josie’s mouth as she shifted positions in her crib, her noises causing you and Terry to separate. “I’ll finish packing up here. You go start the car.” You ordered Terry gently with point of your finger. He nodded dutifully, giving both you and Josie a soft kiss on the cheek.

—

“I’ll miss you babygirl” You cooed at Josie, rubbing her chubby cheek with your thumb. She nuzzled against the contact while she smiled with all her gums. “Y’all better get out of here so I can spend time with my baby” Mrs. Richmond started to usher you and Terry out the door, eager to spend time with her granddaughter. “Can’t we say bye?” Terry asked.

“No you can’t. Now get before them roads get bad.” Mrs. Richmond nodded to the window, swirls of flurries falling outside.

—

It felt weird to be in your bathroom alone. When Josie is fussy but you need to shower you bring her with you, letting her rest in her bouncer while you clean up. Terry often joins you when you’re doing your hair or taking off your makeup. You were never really alone these days, not since Josie was born. Even when she’s not with you physically her presence crackles through the baby monitor seemingly attached to your hand. You’d heard of women who become so consumed with their families that they lose themselves, but that isn’t happening to you.

Right?

All you could think about was a hot shower. Your clothes were strewn across the floor, a fabric trail leading to you standing at the sink. You pulled your braids up into a ponytail before wrapping it up in a fat bun. The counter was cold as you bent down to rest your elbows on it, filling your palms with water so you could wash your face. Before you could reach for the cleanser, your husband slid his hands around your hips.

“Can I help you sir?” You asked him through the mirror, water dripping down your neck to your chest. “Mhm, you sure can” Terry’s voice rumbling low in your ears. His strong hands rubbed over all your soft parts—stomach, hips, thighs, tits, ass. You sighed at the feeling, leaning back into him. But before you can get lost in your man, the quiet part of your mind speaks up.

You’ve never been a stranger to stretch marks, cellulite, dimples, pimples, or moles. All these things came with your figure and you had come to love them. Growing your babygirl gave you immense pride in your body and you wouldn’t trade your pregnancy experience for the world. Being a mother was wonderful journey but every journey has its ups and downs, and these postpartum stages were mostly down. The things you once loved about your body have become insecurities.

“I need to take a shower” You pressed yourself into the sink to create space between you two. “Can I join you?” Terry asks. You avoid his hand reaching for you, side stepping him and going to stand by the shower. “No, thank you baby but I got this one by myself” Your lips quirk up in an awkward smile, your hands shielding your breast and stomach from his watching eyes.

Terry frowned, the crease in the middle of his brows growing deeper as he examined your behavior. You never shy away from his touch whether it’s sexual or not. You’ve been somewhat avoidant recently. Not necessarily detached or distant but just…not the same. It was strange.

“Go lay down” Terry instructs, nodding towards the bedroom. Your mouth opened to retort but the look in Terry’s eyes made the words seep into your tongue. You obeyed wordlessly, feelings his eyes follow your every movement.

—

“Don’t look away” Terry spoke against you, mouth full of your wet pussy. His head could be seen from between your cheeks, the mirror that normally leaned on your bedroom wall now closer to the bed propped on its thin stand. Your eyes watered in pleasure as his tongue swirled around your clenching hole. The silver band of your wedding ring dug into your skin as you held onto the sheets tight.

His lips were soft against you, vibrating with his own moans as he feasted on you. “Terry baby ‘m gonna mmm fuck come” You started to grind against his face, beard tickling your mound. “I know” His words were muffled as he pulled your hips back against his face. The room around you blurred into nothing as your eyes rolled back, orgasm rolling through you with fury.

The sheets were soft on your hard nipples, the added stimulation making you cry out. You pulled yourself away from him weakly only to be pulled back. “Where you going?” He questioned. The spank Terry placed on your right ass cheek had you jolting away from him, which made him wrap his hand around the back of your neck. “Tell me where you going girl” Terry’s voice echoed in your head as you tried to focus. “Nowhere, I promise” You head shook back and forth wildly, braids falling from your bun.

Terry rubbed soothing circle on your now red ass cheek, giving you a moment to calm down. You started to bounce back on Terry’s bulge, your stickiness making his hard dick shine in the light of your bedroom. “Oh you want it now?” He teased. His hand came to hold your hips steady as he started to do the work for you. His swollen tip nudged against your clit just right, bubbles of precum decorating your flesh. You reached back to grab his dick, tired of being empty.

You fell into an arch as he found his home in your pussy. Your walls pulsated around him as if to say “welcome home.”

“Tight ass fucking pussy” He grunted from behind you, his balls resting against your clit as he bottomed out. He trapped his bottom lip between his teeth as he felt his balls start to throb. He fed you slow, deep thrusts, the slap of his thighs on yours filling the room. Goosebumps rushed over your skin with movement.

He hit all your spots with expert precision, catching your hand when you reached back to press it on his stomach. “No ma’am, this what you wanted. Be still and let me work my pussy open” He spoke, head thrown back and eyes closed. Your mind went numb with pleasure. The fat of your thighs started to jiggle as you shook, mouth open in silent moans. Each thrust stole the breath from your lungs.

“Let me tell you something” Terry wrapped a hand in your now messy hair, pulling to get you to look at him through the mirror. “Don’t you ever hide this body from me. This body carried my baby and I’ll be damned if you shamed of it” He punctuated his words with sharper thrusts making you squeal. “Tell me you’re beautiful” He demanded.

“I’m, ugh, I’m beautiful” Your words were quick, drool building up in your mouth and dribbling from the side of it. “Again, make me believe it” He responded. “I’m beautiful Terry, so beautiful” You felt yourself about to come again, walls squeezing him even tighter.

“Yes you are” Terry agreed, his own orgasm building. The sensation of you creaming around him triggered Terry’s orgasm. He continued to thrust as he spilled into you, the mixture of you two dripping onto the sheets. You fell limp onto the bed, shaking and whining at the overwhelming feeling. Terry pulled out slowly to watch his cum flow from your hole.

A warm rag was the next thing you felt on your pussy, the heat making you sigh in relief. “Don’t worry baby, I got you” Terry spoke softly, planting a kiss on your cheek.

—

tags: @kenshisluvrgirl @megamindsecretlair

[luna0713hunter]

"one more kiss? please?" with zoro we’re he’s just so needy for his s/o and cant stop kissing them cause he’s so in love aahh

Author's note : YAY!MY FIRST ASK!!!thank u for sending this request!!i hope you enjoy it darling! ◉‿◉

"one more kiss?please?"

From this prompt

Zoro Roronoa x reader

Warnings : none really,maybe slightly suggestive?,lots of kissing,fluff fluff fluff,just Zoro being needy for his s/o's affection

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

The gentle rocking of the hammock you were laying on was enough to make you unbelievably calm.

The room was empty;Sanji deciding to start dinner early and giving you and Zoro some privacy.

The small sounds of kissing and soft pants were the only things that could be heard in the quiet of the room. In the rare moments of intimacy,Zoro had dragged you down on his hammock to lay on top of him.

With his hands on your hips as you straddle him, nothing else seemed to matter at that moment when your lips were pressed firmly against his;your own hands wondering from his face to his toned chest.

It was rare to see Zoro like this;the usually cool and stoic man begging for your attention,and yours only;not letting you pull even for a breather and immediately chasing your lips as soon as you part for even a second. And despite loving this man with all your heart,needy Zoro was absolutely your favorite.

"Babe," you whisper as soon as he lets you pull away;your voice shaky and your eyes glazed over, "we need to go."

"why?" And he doesnt even let you answer,as his lips lock with yours again as his hands wonder from your hips up to your waist.

"its almost time for dinner." And you almost laugh when you have to put a hand on his chest and push in order to stop him from capturing your lips and shut you up again. And Zoro huff,before pressing his lips to your neck,and making you shiver when he speaks next as you can feel every word against your sensitive skin.

"you cant possibly tell me you want to leave me like this for dinner."

You let out a small sigh as he trails his lips against your throat.

"to be fair,Sanji makes mean desserts."

"babe," he particularly growls, "if you want dessert,you dont need to leave the room to get it." And his arms wrap around your waist to pull you impossibly closer until your chest is pressed against his. He moves his face so his next words are whispered next to your ear, "I'll give it to you right here."

The sound has you shivering once more; Zoro's voice always making you weak in knees.

"So,love," when his nose brushes against yours,your eyes flutters shut, "one more kiss?please?"

He's not even finished before your moving your lips against his again.

If you were in your right mind,you would've laughed at how needy Zoro sounded. But when he slowly turns you around,until your the one laying on the hammock and he's on top of you this time,all the thoughts fly out of your head.

Good thing Sanji knows to save you guys dinner,cause you dont think you'll be leaving the room anytime soon.

[rose-gold-bullet]

[𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰] - Giyuu Tomioka x Reader

Summary: You get injured while fighting a demon and Giyuu helps to bring you back to health.

warnings: none aside from the injury the reader endures and maybe a gross amount of fluff

"It hurts."

"I know." Giyuu spoke softer than usual in an attempt to calm you down as he took off his haori to create a makeshift bandage.

You struggled to maintain your breathing technique as you bled out on the forest floor. The pain you felt in your dominant arm was horrid, but it was nothing compared to shame you felt as you were sloppily nursed back to stability by your companion for the mission you were assigned. You were a member of the Hashira after all; how could you let yourself be torn down in battle by such a low level Kizuki? You were able to land the final blow, but not without substantial damage to your own body.

If you wanted to be honest with yourself, you knew exactly what impeded your typically flawless movements; you were distracted by him. The same man frantically wrapping his haori around your wound in a subpar attempt to stop the blood loss.

You couldn't help it; as cliche as it sounds, you felt like his eyes were designed to get lost in.

"Can you stand?" His voice pulled you from your thoughts.

"I hope so. Can you help me up?" Your response was shaky and barely loud enough to be heard.

He slowly stood and pulled you up with him. You tried as hard as you could to steady yourself once he let go, but all the motivation in the world couldn't stop your legs from buckling. You gasped as you shut your eyes and waited for the harsh impact with the cold ground.

Unsurprisingly, such impact never came.

"Thanks." You muttered, trying to hide your embarrassment as you were being carried bridal style through the forest and soon onto a dirt road.

'As if I couldn't appear any more pathetic...' your brain assaulted itself with more negative assumptions than ever before, and you dug your face into Giyuu's chest to hide the upset expression you could feel plaguing your usually neutral features.

The walk to the Butterfly Estate was a bit of a long one, but it was necessary for a Pillar to receive the best care for mangled limbs.

Much of the said trek was made in silence.

After some time, you shifted your body so you could watch your surroundings. If it weren't for the trail of blood you were leaving with every step the visibly concerned man took, it'd be a perfect night.

"Giyuu, isn't it lovely out tonight?" You finally spoke.

"You're sounding dangerously similar to Shinobu. I have more important things to worry about, as do you."

A breathy laugh escaped your lips. You could tell your own injury was making you a bit delirious.

"You needn't be so serious. We both know I'll recover," you took a ragged breath, "I know you're a Pillar, but we're both allowed to enjoy life sometimes." You explained. As expected, there was no response.

You looked up at the night sky before taking another shaky breath, "You remind me of the moon."

"What?"

"Though, it's not nearly as handsome as you are." You spilled. You were too exhausted to care about whatever his response may be, and too inattentive to notice the slight blush that crept onto his face.

"I'll be sure to have the caretakers at the estate check for a concussion."

Once again, silence filled the open dirt road you were now following.

"I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused tonight. I should know to make myself more useful."

"You were more tha-"

"I think I'm going to fall asleep. Is that alright?" You intentionally cut him off as you knew you weren't strong enough for that sort of conversation. You glanced up at his face and waited for a reply.

He hesitantly nodded, "I'll wake you up if your breathing gets to slow. Dying isn't an opt-" Once again, He was cut off. This time, by the gentle snores escaping your lips. He sighed, exasperated, but was glad you were at least safe for now. With that peace of mind, he allowed the guilt he was struggling to carry lessen in weight ever so slightly.

'As if I couldn't appear any more useless.' He thought as he replayed the moment you cried out in pain over and over in his mind, wincing at every opportunity where he had the power to change the course of the fight but couldn't think fast enough in the moment.

---

You awoke in a bed you recognized almost immediately. You were one of the more frequent visitors at the Butterfly Estate, not because you were weaker but because it wasn't unheard of for you to throw yourself in front of enemy attacks aimed at others (most often protecting Giyuu).

"Oh good, you're awake! We'll let Mr. Tomioka know immediately." Three girls stood at the foot of your bed with a polite smile pasted on their faces.

"Wait- What are my injuries?"

"A severe laceration in your (dominant) arm as well as a fractured humerus and 2 broken ribs. Don't worry, Aoi took the necessary measures and you should make a complete recovery in around 3 weeks."

"Why would you let Giyuu know I woke up?"

"He's always the most concerned, miss! This time, he tried to sit in your room as you slept so he'd be there when you came to." One girl spoke up and they laughed in unison after. With that, they placed water and what you assumed to be pain medicine on your nightstand and left the room.

You laid completely still for a few minutes longer, piecing together the events before you blacked out. You felt your face heat up as you recalled the short exchange you had with Giyuu as he carried you to safety, and silently prayed he forgot about it.

Your thoughts were cut short by rapid footsteps increasing in volume from down the hall. Seconds later, there was a quiet knock at your door.

"Come in." Your voice was still weak, but it was a massive improvement in comparison to the night of the injury. The door slid open to reveal your evidently dejected friend. "Why are you still upset? The residents said I'd make a full recovery and the mission was successf-"

"I'm sorry." It was Giyuu's turn to speak over you. He hesitantly walked towards your bed and kneeled beside it. "I could have stopped this from happening. I could have saved you so much pain."

"That's not your responsibility-"

"It is. I'm there to keep you safe just as you're there to protect me. I failed." He closed his eyes and for only a second, you saw emotion far more intense than you've ever witnessed him showing before.

It almost broke you.

"You can't blame yourself for that! You're the one who kept me alive." You quickly tried to sit up to emphasize your point but flopped back down on the bed upon realizing you had no movement of your dominant arm to support you. "... A cast?" You shook your head in annoyance upon seeing it.

He spoke up once again. "Let me aid you back to health," there was a brief pause as he tried to find the right words, "As an apology for my negligence."

Normally, you'd immediately decline. You have far too much pride for your own good and would never want Giyuu to assume you were weak regardless. But a broken arm is beyond annoying, and maybe some extra time with him outside of life threatening missions would be nice.

You thought it over for a few seconds longer, "If you insist!" you offered a smile although you were nearly certain you'd somehow regret this decision later.

Needless to say, you were right.

---

"Giyuu, let go! I need to train!"

"You need to rest. How do you expect to even lift something as heavy as a sword with a cast on?" You desperately tried to squirm out of his grip as he pinned you to the bed.

"I'll figure it out! Come on, Aoi said I could!"

"No I didn't!" You both heard her call out from the hallway in response.

It was no use. The whole world was against you. You gave up, but not without pouting and complaining for another 20 minutes before making another pitiful attempt at escaping again.

"How have you managed to make full recoveries in the past?" Annoyance dripped from the poor man's lips.

"I'm lucky!" You grinned, before shutting your eyes and going back to sleep. You missed his eyes soften as he watched your sleeping form, before standing up quietly and leaving for a little while.

'Nows my chance!' You stood up and left your room, only to be carried back by the exasperated water breather, both passive-aggressively bickering all the while.

---

"I don't need constant care, you know. It's just a broken arm..." You trailed off as you thought of a way to get him to leave for a while. You enjoyed your time with him, but it was beginning to feel like you were being babysat.

No reply.

You stood up from your bed once again, this time receiving a suspicious glare from Giyuu. "Calm down, I'm only going to get some food."

He nodded at you, but didn't leave your bedside.

"You're... free to join me, you know." You specified once you sensed he wasn't quite sure what to do in your absence. He nodded once more and began trailing behind you as you made your way to a sort of cafeteria where recovering demon slayers can find food.

The food they offered at the time was ramen, which you graciously accepted, though knew from the start it would be a battle to eat it considering your injuries. You took two bowls, found a seat, and waved Giyuu over.

"Thanks so much for making sure I'm alright," you started, "but I swear I'll be fine." You stared down at your ramen before glancing at the chopsticks beside it, then back at the bowl. Maybe you could wait to eat until Giyuu leaves so you don't have to worry about making a fool of yourself, or perhaps you could say you weren't hungry after al-

"You should eat. You haven't had anything all day aside from your medicine."

You looked at Giyuu, then back at the chopsticks. You took a determined breath, then shakily grabbed your chopsticks with your non-dominant hand.

'I can do this,' you thought as you slowly picked up some noodles. Let's just say you weren't exactly ambidextrous. In fact, it's a miracle you got your feeble hand to hold the chopsticks at all.

'I can do this, I ca-' the very few noodles you were able to grab flopped back into your bowl and you could feel the hot liquid splash back in your face. 'No. No, I definitely cannot.'

Meanwhile, your so-called caretaker was struggling to keep his calm demeanour and you caught a glimpse of his mouth twitching up. "It's rude to laugh!" You huffed, but you couldn't keep a straight face either.

After a few moments, his expression shifted back from amused to concerned. "Let me help."

"...What?"

He took the chopsticks from your hands and picked up some noodles before putting them in front of your face. "Eat."

Your face became redder than you thought was possible as some recovering demon slayers snuck peaks at the the two Hashiras apparently sharing a meal.

"I'll pass." You choked out. Giyuu feeding you was not on your plan for the day. He furrowed his brows a bit and inched the noodles closer. You would've held your ground, but the growls coming from your stomach begged you to accept the help. You closed your eyes and quickly took a bite.

"Wow, I had no idea Tomioka and (L/N) were together!"

"I wonder if they were keeping it a secret. I always knew they were in love!" You both overheard the hushed voices erupting from a few of the recovering demon slayers in the room, but neither of you wanted to correct them as you took another bite.

---

You led Giyuu out to the gardens after your rather embarrassing meal.

"I'm not letting you train." He said firmly.

You laughed, "I know. After being stuck in the manor all day, I just figured we both could use some fresh air." What you said was mostly true; yes, you needed the fresh air, but it was more so to calm you down after what happened in the cafeteria.

He nodded, and you both stood in silence as you watched the sun begin to set. Being alone with him so long only confirmed for you just how much you fell for him; it was the comfortable silence that proved it.

You began to walk around the garden, admiring the way the plants glowed under the setting sun. Giyuu grabbed your good hand as you both continued to walk and you blushed at the contact.

"Don't worry! I'm able to walk on my own at least," you laughed in an attempt to hide your bashfulness, "it wasn't my legs that were injured!"

Giyuu admired your blushing face before revealing a soft, yet genuine smile.

"I know."

Notes: -2,204 words -maybe i'll update this with a cringe warning -cross posted on AO3 and Wattpad if you want to support me there as well <3 thank you for reading!! new to tumblr so bear with me here lol

[coco-cinnamon]

Better Than Me?

౨ৎ Warnings: cursing, drinking, Y/N being a bit of a player (I've never wrote Y/N doing that so lmao), sexual themes, degrading, smut, Rafe being an ass but, when is he not lol 18+ MDNI.

౨ৎ Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Female Kook Reader.

౨ৎ Summary: When Y/N is at a party, she messes with Rafe, pretending like she's tired of him and going to go to Topper for her new sex buddy but, Rafe makes sure she learns her lesson.

౨ৎ Word Count: 900+ words.

౨ৎ Author's Note: this was originally supposed to be a re-write of one of my old Topper fics but, it turned into a Rafe fic lmao. I'll post the old Topper fic soon.

©coco-cinnamon 2024, please do not steal, copy, modify, repost, or translate my work.

Sipping your beer from a red solo cup, you surveyed the lively party. The pulsing music reverberated in your chest, as Rafe Cameron's parties always went all out. When one of your friends caught your eye and waved you over to the dance floor, you smiled back, ready to join her. But before you could make your way through the crowd, a hand suddenly gripped your arm.

Attempting to pull your arm away, you snap, "What the fuck?!" But it's no use - their grip is like iron around your arm. You whip yourself around to see who had grabbed you. Looking up, you're met with ocean blue eyes staring down into yours, hazy with lust. "What the fuck do you want, Rafe?" you ask, finally managing to yank your arm out of his grip. He just smirks at you, his eyes a mix of amusement and lust. "That isn't any way to greet the host, is it?"

You crossed your arms, your gaze piercing up at him. "Again, what the hell do you want?" you asked.

He smirked. "Well, I figured since you came to my party, we could head up to my bedroom. I'm sure we could do way more interesting things up there than you would be able to do over there with your friends."

You cocked a brow, considering his words. He watched you, his impatience growing evident on his face. With a sarcastic smile, you said, "Thanks, but no thanks," and began to turn away. Before you could fully turn around and walk off, he yanked you back to face him again. Rolling your eyes, you groaned, "what now?"

"I thought we had something good going on here." he said, tilting his head quizzically. "We did, at first." you replied with a small shrug. His jaw clenched slightly as he growled, "What do you mean 'at first'?" Maintaining a calm demeanor and a small smirk, you replied, "Exactly what I said. At first, we had a pretty sweet thing, but then I got bored. Plain and simple." You crossed your arms as you continued, "You care more about your own pleasure than mine, so I'm no longer interested."

Rafe scoffed bitterly. "No longer interested? That's bullshit, Y/N, and you know it. You and I both know there's no one here who can make you feel as good as I do. No one knows your body like I do. Do you really think any of these idiots could make you cum the way I can?" He growled, tightening his grip on your shoulders.

You smirked up at him. "Maybe, maybe not. But it's worth a shot to see if anyone can do better. As of right now, I've got my eye on him." You gestured towards Topper Thornton, who was across the room drinking and chatting with Kelce. Rafe let out a mocking laugh, as if the very notion was absurd. "Really?! Topper Thornton is who you're interested in?" he scoffed. "That's got to be a joke, Y/N. You'd actually lower your standards that much?"

"I think I already lowered my standards when I started sleeping with you," you retorted with a smirk, knowing you were getting under his skin. You begin to speak once again, "I mean, Topper is very attractive. Or if you'd rather, I could go and sleep with Maybank. I know for a fact that he'd know how to—"

But you get cut off as Rafe's hand suddenly wraps around your throat. He yanks you forward, his nose only inches from yours. The height difference causes you to rise up on your tiptoes. "Cut it out Y/N or I swear to god I will take you up those fucking stairs right now and fuck your ass so hard that you won't be able to walk the next day." He said, his voice lethally soft. You look up at him, remaining defiant as a a smirk playing on your lips before you speak "I think I'd rather Topper over there to fuck me."

"You want Topper to fuck you?! Fine!" He snaps, his grip around your throat tightening slightly as he continues, "but just know that I will make you beg on your fucking hands and knees when you crawl back to me, begging me for my cock because Topper couldn't fuck you properly." With that, he roughly drops you. You glance over to where Topper stands with Kelce, then shift your gaze back to Rafe. He smirks down at you, tilting his head. "Well? What are you waiting for? I thought you wanted to whore yourself out to Topper." His grin widens as he sees your face twist with annoyance. "Or are you having second thoughts?"

You glared at him before turning around and starting to make your way towards Topper. But before you could reach him, Rafe came over and grabbed you, throwing you over his shoulder. He then smacked your ass roughly, eliciting a squeak from you.

"I- what the hell, Rafe?!" you yelled as he carried you towards the stairs. "Did you really think I was going to let you fuck him? You're mine, Y/N, and by the end of the night the only name that will be able to leave your lips is mine," he growled.

౨ৎ Author's Note: tysm for reading, babes! part two coming soon!

[miley1442111]

Heyyy!! Would you be interested in writing an angst aaron and bau!reader fic where they're in an established relationship for quite a while now and even have a kid together other than jack. they having relationship problems tho and maybe decided to take some time off their relationship temporarily. so reader takes her and aarons kid in their time off and jack is with aaron. angst where poor jack feels abandoned by reader and thinks she's leaving them cause both the adults are too prideful to talk everything out and make it work. (you can write it however like btw but hopefully with a happy ending 🤞🤍🤍🤍)

i love this idea, sorry i let it sit for so long! only realised i hadn't posted this now :0

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

pinky promises-a.hotchner

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

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

a/n: fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: how you and aaron worry jack, and how aaron finds something out 20 years later.

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: angst, fighting, mentions of divorce, jack being upset, etc.

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

It had been weeks and weeks of pointless fighting. You were exhausted. Aaron was exhausted. 

“What do you want me to say about it Aaron?” You sighed, exasperation running through your bones. 

“I want you to say anything!” He shouted. You felt a wire snap inside you. Aaron never shouted at you. He knew how horrible he was being. He knew how bad you felt. He knew that this was a stupid thing to be fighting about.

“I’m going to my brother’s house, how about that?” You sighed. “Is that what you wanted me to say?” 

Aaron rolled his eyes, irritated at your dramatics. When he came home from one of the worst cases he’d been on for a while, all he’d wanted was to wrap you up in his arms and not let you go. But of course, he had to ruin it by starting an argument. You were 7 months postpartum, he shouldn’t have been picking fights and he knew it. But he was just so irritated. He realised something, he was taking the worst parts of his job home with him again.

“I need a break from it Aaron, alright. I’ll take Marcy and you’ll get some real sleep for a weekend and we’ll calm down and talk on Monday, alright?” 

Some sleep sounded great. Calming down sounded great. Reconciling sounded great. “Alright,” he nodded curtly. 

“Alright,” you sighed. You had never wanted it to come to this. He promised you it wouldn’t come to this. 

Yet it had. 

“I’ll pack a bag for you,” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek as he started to walk off but you grabbed his hand and kissed it softly.

“I love you. Always,” you reminded him. His heart melted a little bit. 

“I love you too.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ While you and Aaron were busy fighting, Jack was in his playroom down the hall. He was terrified, you were leaving? You were taking Marcy? 

What would happen to him? He’d already lost his mom, he couldn’t lose you too.

“Honey?” He whispered as you passed the playroom. He’d picked up the habit of calling you ‘honey’ the same way Aaron did. 

“Hey Jackers,” you smiled through the inner monologue running through your head. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” 

Jack thought this would be his last time with you tucking him in, so he got up immediately and hugged your legs. You chuckled at his antics, unaware of his anxieties, and picked him up in your arms. 

“Can I say goodnight to Marcy?” He asked and you nodded.

“Of course you can, I’ll get your dad as well, we can all say goodnight,” You smiled.

Jack, being the little profiler he was, noticed the way you’d said ‘his dad’ not just ‘dad’. His stomach dropped. He felt sick, the kind of sick he felt before he vomited.  Jack ran into Marcy’s nursery as you went to find Aaron.

“Ok Marcy, I love you, I don’t say it enough,” he whispered into her cot as she slept soundly. “I hope I was a good big brother, you were a great little sister-”

“What are you doing jack?” You asked, worried  and confused by his actions. Aaron stood behind you, his signature frown painted on his face. 

Jack started crying and both you and Aaron ran to him, wrapping him up in your arms. After a few minutes of calming him down, and calming Marcy down after she woke up with Jack crying, you sat on the floor of the nursery beside Aaron as Jack explained. 

“WellIheardyouguysfightingandIknowY/nisgoingawaynowandI’llmissher-” He rushed out but Aaron held up a hand to stop him. 

“Slowly Jack, slowly,” he reminded him and Jack crawled into Aaron’s lap and whispered it to him. 

“I heard you two fighting, and it was like when mom and you used to fight, so I know it means that Y/n and Marcy are going away now, like when you went away and I’m sad because I’ll miss them like I miss mommy,” he sniffled as Aaron’s heart broke. His eyes filled with tears that he forced himself to swallow, the task almost proving too difficult. He looked at you, your head in your hands, you’d heard him too. 

“Jack, your dad and I aren’t breaking up, we’re both just really stressed right now and we thought it would be a good idea to give each other some space. The only reason I’d take Marcy is because I have to breastfeed her,” you explained, your voice breaking. “I love your dad so much, and I love you so much, I could never leave you,” you smiled sadly and took his hand. “Remember the pinky promise I made to you on my wedding day? I meant that.”

Aaron’s ears peaked up as Jack nodded. There was something unspoken about the way that Jack seemed to relax at your words, his entire body lacking any and all tension in mere seconds. 

What was the pinky promise?

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Aaron walked out of Jack’s bedroom and leant against the door of your bedroom, watching you read your book. When you looked up, you were reminded of a younger Aaron, the one you'd met in college when he was with Haley. You felt awful having a massive crush on one of your friend’s boyfriend so you steered clear of him. Who knew you’d be here now? His wife. The mother to his children. 

“Hey handsome,” you smiled at him. 

“I don’t want space. Please don’t leave,” he asked, not meeting your eyes. 

“Let’s be honest, we both know I wasn’t getting over the threshold of my brother’s place before I ran back,” you smiled. Aaron plunked himself down beside you, lying down and pressing kisses against your neck. 

“I’m sorry I picked a fight,” he sighed.

“Sorry I kept it going,” you whispered, kissing his head. 

“So we're alright?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes, we’re ok,” you chuckled. His hands wrapped around you, pulling himself closer into your comforting embrace. For a few minutes, he tried to read your book alongside you, but his question still nagged, what was the promise?

“You want to know what the promise was, don’t you,” you chuckled.

“Yes,” he admitted, a shy smile on his face.

“Too bad,” you smirked, making him roll his eyes. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------It was 20 years later that he found out what the promise was, on Jack’s wedding day.

“Now, probably 20 odd years or so, I made a promise to Jack on my wedding day,” you admitted in your speech. Aaron’s interest peaked once more. “I promised him that I would love him and his dad as long as they allowed me to. That as long as Jack wanted me there, I would be. I told him he could call it off at any time, if anything was ever too much for him or if he hated me when he became a teenager. I promised him I’d go without a word of his involvement. I swore that I’d love him until the minute he didn't want me there, and even then that I'd just love him from far away. But I’m so happy you let me stay around Jack, you’ve become quite the amazing person,” you smiled through tears as he held your hand in his, just like he had all those years ago. Aaron’s heart swelled. You’d thought about Jack since day one. When your speech was finished, Aaron pulled you away from the rest of the party to kiss you in the beautiful sunset, the same venue you two had gotten married in. 

He loved you.

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[cleo-fox]

Daylight

Summary: Despite your best efforts, Sunday morning doesn’t go as planned…and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, shower sex, fingering, vaginal sex, soft sex, sex that causes you to be several hours late for work, Loki being a (respectful) horn dog.

Series: Overtime (I don't have a masterlist for this yet, but the first fic is here). A/N: This started out as a scene in Overtime that kind of took on a life of its own. You don't necessarily need to read Overtime in order to enjoy or understand this fic, but you'll have more context if you do. Anyway, it was fun revisiting these two idiots--I've got a few more ideas for them up my sleeve, so there will be more in this series at some point.

The sunlight wakes you the next morning.

It’s the same sunlight as always, but it looks different coming through Loki’s window and streaming across his bed. It looks better, you think, splashed across his sheets.

Or maybe it’s the addition of your hand clasped with his resting on those same sheets. Or perhaps it’s the sight of your clothes and his, discarded on the bedroom floor in a pool of sunlight, combined with the fact that you’re still wrapped in his arms. Maybe all of that is why it seems better.

That seems more likely.

You lie still for a moment, simply enjoying the feeling of his arms and the heat of his skin against your bare back. You are reasonably certain he’s asleep from the steady rhythm of his breath on your neck, but you’re not about to disturb the sleepy calm of the morning to confirm that. 

The clock on his bedside table says it’s just after six. Before last night, you would have said that this was a reasonable time to get up—early enough to ensure that you’re in the office by eight, which would hopefully give you enough time to meet this evening’s deadline, but not so early that it makes you question your life and your choices.

But that was before. Now…well. You suddenly find that your priorities look very different from the comfort of Loki’s bed.

You decide that you didn’t really see the clock. Neither one of you thought to set an alarm last night. Sleeping in was inevitable. That’s not your fault. No harm, no foul.

You close your eyes and allow yourself to fall into a light doze, warmed by the sunlight and Loki’s embrace.

Sometime later, you’re woken by the soft brush of a kiss against your neck.

“Did you sleep well?” he murmurs against your neck.

“Yes, though I did have a bit of a late night,” you say. “Someone kept me up.”

“Really? That was rude of him.”

“Very.”

He’s noticeably—achingly—hard. His lips brush against your neck again. “Perhaps he might make it up to you?”

Your intention is to open your eyes, roll over, and allow yourself to be ravished. But in a development you can only describe as tragic, you happen to catch sight of the clock on his nightstand.

7:38 am.

“Shit,” you say. “It’s almost eight.”

Loki is predictably unconcerned about this. “We don’t have any official hours to keep,” he says, his hand skimming along your ribs and down the curve of your waist. “We have all day.”

“Yeah, but we’ve got a ton more to do,” you say, trying to ignore how good he is at kissing your neck or how his hand is drifting down your hip toward the aching pulse between your legs. “We really need every minute.”

“That is true,” he says solemnly. “Perhaps we ought shower together to save time.”

You can’t help but smile. “I kind of feel like you have another agenda.”

“I’d never,” he says.

“The raging hard on pressing against my ass would suggest otherwise.”

You can almost hear him smirk as he gives his hips a teasing little thrust against you. “I contain multitudes.”

You wiggle out of his embrace and slip out of bed. You intend to look back and give him a coquettish look and say something sharp and teasing, but instead, the sight of him takes your breath away. He leans back on his elbows, looking everything like the sort of lounging god you would see depicted in marble at the Parthenon, all chiseled, sharp muscles and clean lines. His cock stands fully erect and deliciously thick, flushed with wanting.

“I can’t help but notice that you didn’t reject the offer,” he says, seemingly fully aware of the path of your gaze. His hand drops to his cock and he strokes himself casually, which very nearly sends your sprinting back to bed.

“You’re right,” you say, trying to keep your cool as you throw him your most beguiling look. “So you should probably hurry up.”

You turn and start walking toward the master bathroom. You don’t need to look over your shoulder to know he’s following you, his gaze hungrily devouring every inch of skin, eyes dark with purpose.

You walk into the master bathroom and are immediately confronted by several flagrant violations of the residential handbook. The TVA is many things, but it is not the sort of place that deviates from set floor plans, nor is it the sort of place that deviates from those plans to install a rainfall shower and soaking tub—in marble, no less.

You think of the stark, vaguely institutional aesthetic in your own master bath and you can’t decide if you’re annoyed at his rule breaking or jealous that he could get away with it.

“I’m not even going to ask if you got approval for this setup because I know you didn’t,” you say as you reach in to the shower to turn on the tap.

“Do you think of anything other than that cursed personnel manual?” he asks as he comes up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist and his lips again finding your neck as he draws you to him.

“First of all, it’s not the personnel manual, it’s the residential handbook, which you specifically agreed to abide by when you signed off on your lease.”

He turns you around so you face him and draws you close, a wicked gleam in his eye, “Oh, I’m going to make you forget all about those ridiculous rules.”

“That’s a pretty tall order—oh.”

His hand is slipping between your legs, stroking your already slick folds.

“I think I’m quite capable of inspiring other passions,” he says, rolling his fingers in a broad circle over the hood of your clit

You loop your arms around his shoulders. You can already feel your knees starting to tremble, but you know he won’t let you fall.

“Bold claim,” you say, “I’m going to need more evidence.”

“Oh, you’re going to get a lot of evidence,” he says softly. He curls a finger inside of you, pressing his thumb against the hood of your clit. “You will have no doubts by the time I’m done presenting my argument. You will be weak-kneed with evidence.”

You shudder as he rocks his hand slowly. He’s touching you enough to stoke the flames of desire, making your hips rock helplessly toward his hand as you try to create that extra friction and pressure that you know will send you flying over the edge. But Loki is meticulous—perhaps even ruthless—about not giving in. 

“Not yet,” he murmurs softly when your latest attempt is thwarted. “Slowly.”

Your pleas become louder and more frequent, but his answer remains the same: slowly. You whimper and beg, but he is resolute.

Steam has fogged up the mirrors and is curling around you when your orgasm finally begins to crest. You suddenly find yourself grateful for his pacing as the intensity builds to a level that makes your knees shake.

“That’s it,” he breathes as you tremble in his arms. “You can come for me now, lovely.”

Like magic, the coil inside you snaps at his command and you cry out as your cunt shudders around his slowly thrusting fingers. Your arms looped around his shoulders are the only thing keeping you standing.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss against your temple as you sag against him. “Beautiful.”

He gives you a moment to get your bearings before leading you into the shower. He sits down on the marble bench, spreading his thighs wide and pulling you into his lap so you straddle his hips. The spray of the water hits your back as he kisses you again, slow and hungry.

You love everything about this. The heat of the water on your back. The closeness. The way his thighs are spread wide. How his cock presses against your bare cunt. The noise he makes low in his throat when you start rubbing yourself against him.

“Need you,” he mumbles against your neck. His hands squeeze your hips and you reach between the two of you to line his cock up at your entrance.

It occurs to you that you could take the opportunity to tease him, to make him beg for you, but pretending that you have any control over your aching need for him is several degrees beyond impossible. So instead, you slowly ease yourself down onto his cock while he groans against your neck, dragging his lips down to the curve of your shoulder.

The feeling of him inside you is still so new that it feels just a little unreal. After all that wanting and yearning and thinking that he was too handsome, too divine, too out of reach to have, he’s suddenly yours and it’s absolutely dizzying. 

You pause for a moment, eyes closed, savoring the feeling of unyielding fullness, of connection. Of him.

“All right?” he asks softly.

You open your eyes and his look of sweet concern makes your heart swell. “Yeah,” you say, a lazy, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. “I just—I needed a moment. You feel—” You pause for a moment, searching for the right words, sifting through the effusive and flowery and the things that are true but too early to say. “You just feel really good,” you say.

It sounds wildly inadequate, but he seems to understand, to hear all of the unsaid parts that you’re keeping close to your heart. He could turn away, say it’s too much too soon, that you haven’t even said what you are yet, much less committed to anything serious, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans forward, drawing you into a slow kiss, his hands framing your face, tracing the curve of your cheek and jaw with the kind of reverence that makes you want to say everything you feel.

“You’re perfect.” He says it in between breaths, with such a disarming sincerity that you can’t bring yourself to try and deflect, to name a flaw or even make a joke.

Later, he will tell you that he was struggling with a similar battle, trying to reconcile how new this was with the depth of feeling that was already blossoming in his chest. He will tell you later that he couldn’t believe you were his, just as you couldn’t believe he was yours, that there was something about you that felt right in a way that made him feel like he knew even then.

But right now, he simply kisses you with a fervor that makes your toes curl and your hips start to move.

It’s only the second time that you’ve done this, but there’s a strange blend of both the new and the familiar. The shape and feel of his body pressed against yours is new, but the way that he moves, the way that he touches you is as though he’s loved you for centuries.

The rhythm you fall into is slow, despite the excuse that this shower was to save time. His hand slides down your stomach, his fingers finding your clit to add another layer of bliss to the feeling of his cock inside you. Despite your slow pace, your ascent rushes in fast and brilliant as a comet blazing through the night sky. Your back arches, almost as though you’re presenting yourself as an offering to him as you come undone in his arms. Loki watches you with a kind of breathless wonder, brow furrowing in pleasure, his lower lip caught between his teeth at the tight clench of your cunt around his cock.

Your legs are rubbery with pleasure, but you keep going because you need his release as much as your own. You need to feel him empty himself inside of you, to hear the low groan he makes as he unravels, to see the way his eyes flutter shut. You want crescent moon marks on your hips from where his hands gripped you too tightly in that final ascent, physical proof that you can make not just a god forget himself, but Loki specifically. Loki with all his masks and tricks and artful poise; Loki laid bare below you, free from all artifice and glibness, raw and real and just as he is. All the parts of him that make you think that down this path lies something wonderful (not that you’re ready to call it love. Yet).

But Loki is nothing if not predictably unpredictable and he seems determined to make you work before granting you that little glimpse at the heaven that is the god of mischief coming undone beneath you.

“Let me feel you come again,” he murmurs as soon as you catch your breath.

“Is once not enough?” you say, trying and failing to sound cool and calm, like you’re not completely wrecked for him.

“Hardly.” His eyes flash in a way that makes you shiver as he urges your hips into a faster rhythm. “I am not so easily satisfied when my need has been so great.”

You can feel the coil in your hips beginning to tighten again.

“I’ve burned for you for years, my love,” he says, his voice going a little shaky. “Would you deny water to a man dying of thirst?”

You shake your head, your words lost to the oncoming wave of your undoing.

“Then do not deny me your pleasure, I am desperate for you.” He’s panting, barely holding on to his composure. “Now come for me again, let me feel you.”

You are so far gone that it only takes a few more strokes to make you come undone and the first shudder of your climax takes Loki with you.

You savor his pleasure more than your own release, memorizing the sound he makes, the way his lips form a silent plea in the shape of your name until he slides a hand up your neck and pulls you down to kiss him.

His kiss is fierce and hungry at first, but it ebbs to something slower and sweeter as he empties himself into you. He sighs as you tangle your fingers in the wet tendrils of his hair.

It’s a long moment later when you finally break the kiss, resting your forehead against his.

“I don’t think we saved any time,” you say.

He doesn’t even open his eyes. “I cannot overemphasize how much I do not care about being late in these circumstances.”

You grin. “Not even a little?”

He kisses you sweetly on the mouth before opening his eyes, his lips curling into a slow and satisfied smile. “I would be late every day for the rest of my life for just a few seconds of that.”

His words spark something warm in your chest and you try to hide it with a wry look. “I’m not sure that you’re getting the better end of the deal.”

He kisses you softly. “You don’t know how good you feel.”

“You’re one to talk,” you murmur against his lips and he smiles as he deepens the kiss.

The warmth of his body pressed against yours and the feeling of him smiling as he kisses you is a kind of luxury you’ve never imagined. It takes you a while to untangle yourselves, but you can’t find it in yourself to move any faster.

The actual showering part of your shower is slow and unhurried and you find that Loki’s hands are equally gifted at these mundane tasks. His fingers have a knack for finding every stubborn knot in your neck and shoulders, which he explores leisurely under the pretext of washing your back. The press of his fingers unwinds the tension in your shoulders, loosening up muscles that have been too tense for too long.

“You are way too good at this,” you say.

“Just one of my many talents,” he says, dropping a kiss on your shoulder. “Though perhaps I ought to stop—I wouldn’t want to make you late.”

“I’m so relaxed I’m going to ignore that little bit of sass.”

He chuckles against your shoulder. “You’ll forgive me.”

“We’ll see.”

The sweet, almost chaste kisses he’s been pressing against your neck and shoulders are gradually growing slower, more insistent. When you feel the tip of his tongue draw a quick, teasing line on your neck, you know that you might be in trouble.

His hands slide to your waist, drawing you close enough that you can feel that he’s hard again. 

“I’m sensing some ulterior motives,” you say.

“A bold accusation,” he mumbles against your neck, pressing himself more firmly against you.

“We can’t have sex again,” you laugh.

“Mmm, we could,” he says in between kisses. “There’s nothing stopping us from having sex again.”

“We are already running late—”

“I thought I was very clear about my feelings on timeliness in these circumstances.” He nips at your earlobe and you shiver. “And would you really deprive me of the utter bliss of coming undone inside you?”

“It’s more like rescheduling than depriving you of anything.”

“I’ve waited so long, darling.”

“We just had sex like…less than an hour ago,” you say through a laugh.

“Ah, but the days before that were so terribly long,” he says.

You turn to face him, thinking this will make things easier for you. This turns out to be a grave miscalculation because now you have to contend with the fire in his eyes and the twin flame that it summons low in your hips.

Fuck. 

You are definitely going to have sex again.

His eyes glitter like he knows and he slowly walks you backwards until you’re pressed between him and the shower wall.

“You are absolutely incorrigible,” you say as he peppers your neck with slow, decadent kisses. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

“Funnily enough, I don’t think you’ll be complaining about my mouth in about thirty seconds.”

And with a wicked and hungry grin, he slowly sinks to his knees.

It’s 10:48am when you finally walk into the office.

Even though you are now several hours later than you intended and the stack of files is no less imposing, you feel nothing but a pleasant glow of happiness as you take your seat. Loki sits down in the chair next to you and this time, he sneaks his foot underneath your desk and hooks his ankle under yours.

He catches your eye and smiles. “I can be a little more obvious now.”

You put on your most exaggerated expression of mock seriousness. “Only a little. This is a workplace, after all.”

He adopts a similar expression and nods. “Of course. I imagine there will be paperwork as well.”

“There actually is a form we’ll need to file with HR,” you say.

Loki frowns. “Wait, you’re not being serious about that, are you?”

“Yep. We’ll need to file it by next Friday.”

He sighs and throws his hands up in the air. “Is there anything that this place hasn’t managed to weigh down with the burden of unnecessary bureaucracy?”

“I see we’re in a good mood this morning.” Mobius has arrived, cup of coffee in hand. He nods at Loki and looks at you. “How long has he been raging against the machine?”

“Not terribly long,” you say as Loki rolls his eyes.

“It’s not raging against anything,” he says. “I just fail to see the point of some of this organization’s operational practices.”

Mobius raises an eyebrow at you. “You told him he has to fill out a form, huh?”

“Got it in one,” you say as Loki scowls.

Mobius chuckles and takes a sip of coffee. “You should hear him during performance evaluation season. I get entire monologues. It’s like Hamlet meets HR.”

Loki’s scowl deepens and you have to bite the inside of your cheek in order not to laugh.

“It looks like you made good progress, though,” says Mobius, looking at your completed stacks of files. “I took a look at what you pulled earlier this morning and there’s some good stuff.”

“Oh, good,” you say, hoping he doesn’t think much of the fact that neither one of you was in the office earlier this morning. “What time do you think you’ll need the rest done?”

“Right, about that,” says Mobius. You steel yourself for bad news. “I took a look at what you pulled so far and I think I’ve got what I need.”

You blink at him. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, you’re off the hook,” he says. “Go enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

You look at Loki, who looks just as pleasantly surprised as you feel.

“In fact, you can take the rest of the week off,” says Mobius. “Triple overtime, right? You earned the time.” 

“This feels like a trick,” says Loki. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” says Mobius. “You did good work.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “However—”

“And there’s the catch,” says Loki.

“There’s no catch,” says Mobius. He gestures at you with his coffee cup. “I’m just going to need you both to turn in the relevant paperwork to HR by next Friday.”

Loki sighs, though you can tell he’s fighting a smile. “There’s absolutely no privacy here.”

Mobius raises his eyebrows. “You’re playing footsie under the desk. It’s not exactly rocket science.”

You look at Loki and shrug. “He’s got a point.”

“You’re taking his side?”

You roll your eyes and stand up. “Well, you can sulk about it if you’d like, but I’m going to go enjoy the rest of my weekend.” You share a sly, secret smile with Mobius. “I’ll see you next week, Mobius.”

It takes Loki approximately twenty seconds to catch up with you.

“And you say I’m incorrigible,” he says as he falls into step beside you.

You smile at him. “I think you’ll get over it.”

“I’ll consider it.” He catches your band, fingers twining with yours. “What are your plans for the rest of the week?”

“Hadn’t decided,” you say, biting back a smile. “Did you have any suggestions?”

“Well, I’d like to start by going back to bed.”

“To sleep?” you tease. 

“Eventually.” He licks his lips. “And since our respective schedules have been cleared for the week, we’ll be able to take our time.”

The hunger in his eyes is still so new and intoxicating that you can’t help the shiver that works its way up your spine.

You give him a slow smile. “Lead the way.”

[hazelfoureyes]

for your consideration:

a reader who’s genuinely more powerful than Alastor is. maybe they’re royalty or another overlord or maybe they simply just have a more commanding presence than him, but in any way, he hates it. he goes out of his way to try to one-up them (much like how he did with Lucifer), but the reader never falters, ever-calm and ever-in control. it infuriates Alastor to no end— not only because of the simple fact that he isn’t the strongest person in the room anymore, but also because the reader never treats him like he’s lesser than them. they treat him like an equal, and it makes him even angrier.

when they fuck for the first time, it’s a last-ditch attempt for Alastor to regain control— and it fails, because even though Alastor is on top with his nails digging into the reader’s skin, doing his very best to cause the pain he knows he can cause, the reader still just stares up at him, taking it like they always do. no tears fall from their eyes, no pleads fall from their lips. Alastor is dissatisfied— very much so. so they do it again. and again. and again, until it’s something of a game between them. until one day, the reader’s composure finally shatters.

they’ve had enough of Alastor’s attitude and disrespect, and they tell him as much. they pin him down, snarling about his god complex and his twisted sadism and how long they’ve been waiting to put him in his place. and Alastor finds that no matter how much he struggles, he can’t get that control that had been so rudely snatched from him back. but the thing is— a part of him likes it. really, really likes it— that loss of power that should be his and his alone, being held just out of his petulant reach. it brings him a sick feeling that he’s never felt before and can’t get enough of.

that part grows and grows until he’s the one crying and begging and squirming weakly underneath the reader, both his smile and his mind threatening to break as the reader fucks him relentlessly. no matter how many times either of them cums, the reader doesn’t stop, not until Alastor is screaming his apologies, over and over and over again. he hates it. he loves it.

when it’s all over, and when the reader has settled, Alastor makes them promise that they will never speak of this again. without a hint of smugness, the reader agrees— but maybe the next time Alastor is acting up, the reader will only have to give him a look. and he will know.

I know this wasn’t a prompt necessarily but don’t think you can come into MY HOUSE and lay a feast in front of me and not expect I’d dig in 👏 face 👏 first 👏 so here’s me just kinda riffing off your DELICIOUSLY WRITTEN MESSAGE. NO TIME TO EDIT A CUTE REPLY IMAGE

Wrapped around Your Finger (Ace Alastor bottoms for a GN!Seraphim Reader short smut)

Warnings/Promises: 🗣️ ALASTOR GETS FINGERED, Gender Neutral Reader x Alastor smut, hate fucking, bondage, initial dubcon, Ace Alastor, scratching, kinda degradation kink, Angel Reader, Reader is a good friend, Protect Angel Dust at all costs

minors dni

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ When Lucifer introduced a defected Seraphim to the hotel, Alastor’s smile dropped. You had feet yet to him you seemed to glide through the hotel halls effortlessly. You were impeccably dressed, ever polite, well mannered, clean. It was driving him mad. Yes, Alastor knew the importance of being well groomed. He exalted manners and gentility. He disliked grime and thought a lack of personal hygiene was an actual sin. But the sight of you, every fucking day with that ever present soft smile on your lips? Your gaze, always gentle as you listened to sinners explain their dreams of redemption. Nails on a chalkboard. Every room you were in, all eyes turned to you. It was if the air itself was pulled into your charms.

Every one in the hotel either feared Alastor or, at least, failed to hide their annoyance when He’d sneak up on them or touch them without warning. Of course, not you. Alastor shocked himself with his antics in attempt to make you react to him at all. Charlie would pull him aside weekly, asking what the actual fuck? “Why did you say that? They know they aren’t from here, we all know that, but telling them they are most unnatural creature to ever exist in Hell? And I don’t think it was an accident you knocked their drink over. Al, you are being a bully.” Yes, and he was sorry. Sorry he was so ineffective. Not even a fucking knitted brow so much as flashed at him when he spilled your drink down your chest. You smiled, you had the audacity to smile at him and say, “Whoops. Your monocle isn’t prescription, huh?” He only had one option left to push you beneath him—-rip you to pieces. Any thing to get you to look at him differently than all the other weak souls mulling about in hell.

Alastor had seen you fight, when an overlord came to the hotel to taste seraphim blood, all of the Pride Ring saw your power. Arms out stretched, a glow came from your palms, yellow and bright. With the speed of someone enjoying a breakfast on the patio on a Sunday in hell, you knelt down and pressed your palms into the ground. A flash of light and power rung out from you and blinded everyone watching, but Alastor could see you as he melted into the deepest shadows your light created. White and gold glowing shards erupted from the dirt, fracturing the grounds of the hotel lawn as they formed a jagged but intelligent line straight for the demon. The overlord barely recovered from the blinding effect of your power before a glass-like piece shot from the ground and straight through his chest. It was over in seconds, and you had never dropped your soft grin.

He was prideful, but not stupid. A test, a little experiment first. When you watched sweetly from the sidelines and Charlie directed yet another meaningless activity, Alastor stood opposite you. Your eyes flitted from person to person, your smile small but genuine. Were you glowing? He had had enough. He reached his shadow appendages out and wrapped one around your ankle, as it gripped and prepared to drag you to the floor in what he hoped would be an embarrassing display, nothing happened. As the tentacle touched you, it dissipated. Your light entirely erasing the shadow.

He felt his mind breaking. Every night he paced, feeling your overwhelming presence in the hotel even at such a distance. He decided to try the one thing he’d never tried. Atleast, not since coming to hell. You were always so accommodating, maybe to a fault? He found you in kitchen, alone, making yourself some sickeningly sweet drink. Your body froze when Alastor pressed against you from behind. But, you didn’t make a sound. “Apologies, I don’t think I can suffer any longer.” He ground his hips into your ass, “I never do this, a gentleman through and through. But you see, as a deer demon, sometimes there are periods of—- unbearable discomfort. I can’t focus on redemption like this.”

Alastor was shocked when you swiveled around, eyes closed from your smile, and said, “I came here to help. What can I do?”

He couldn’t understand it. Bent over the counter in the common area, his nails cutting lines down your sides that healed with a frustrating speed, you just sighed into him. Little moans, soft exhales. He slammed your hips against him, the sound ringing through the kitchen. But still, your eyes were closed but not clenched. Your sounds small and even. The only thing keeping him hard was your hand, reached back and digging nails into his thighs. The tiniest hint of your true feelings. He’d bury his mind where your hand tore his skin and find release. Happy to see you at least a little less perfectly assembled after.

Alastor would find you at the most inconvenient times, in the most public settings, and find some excuse to need to fuck you. At one point a sinner even walked in on you two, and to Alastor’s palpable dismay, you apologized to the sinner for blocking the ice machine.

Your resolve finally snapped, however, when Alastor stepped past a line he didn’t know you had. Alastor had you, uncharacteristically, in your bed. He always spoke during sex but now, now it was genuinely grating you. “You’re such a whore, coming to Hell just to eat demon cock. If you drowned in cum you’d probably respawn as an even bigger slut than Angel Dust.” You sat up, one hand on his chest and the other under his armpit, and flipped him onto his back. Alastor’s arm moved to push back, but he found both wrists held down to the bed with a signature glow.

“If you knew Angel half as well as you pretended, you’d know how fucking stupid you sound.” Your hands gathered his cum from earlier that evening, slowly dripping out of you with the sudden change in position. “He’s the whore? Who stalks this hotel, hungry for any ounce of attention? A petulant child willing to embarrass others just so teacher notices them?” Your hand began to pump his cock. Alastor thrashed, he hated people handling his dick, but that was overshadowed by his disgust of having his semen spread over his skin. The sensation made his skin crawl and he would have gone soft but when he met your gaze he only grew harder in your fist. Your eyes were alight, figuratively and literally. The rage on your face made his smile drop entirely. You looked like you hated him. “If he is a whore, then you are Mary Magdalene. I’ll wash your feet for you, sinner.” You used your knees to spread open his untethered legs.

“I know you, Alastor,” the fingers of your other hand slicked through the lathered cum dripping down his ass and began to massage at his hole. “Your greatest sin wasn’t murder. It was pride. Never could let anyone see the famous Radio star with even a hair out of place. You’d drop your morals for even a taste of an improved social image. Even in death, you abuse and hound others who dare to make you feel less than how you demand you look from the outside.” He wanted to say anything, argue, roar, but his jaw was locked in place. Your eyes never left his, and soon his vision was darkening around your luminescent stare. A finger slipped into him, slowly but with resistance.

“Tell me to stop.” Your hand slowed to let his muscles relax around your digit before picking up speed again, curving your palm over his head with every pull upward, “Tell me to stop and I will. I’ll go right back to who I always am, and always will be. I’ll smile at you every morning and move out of your way with a nod in the halls. Say ‘stop’.” Your words were threats, not idle or hollow and it made Alastor’s thighs twitch. Go back? Return to looking at him like you truly wanted the best for him despite how dirty his hands were? Soft eyes threatening to make him melt into a lesser, weaker man?

You were in him to the knuckle, finger prodding and twirling.

His eyes were wide but focused on you. Alastor thought his soul would evaporate, your face a sneer he’d never been so lucky to even imagine before now. He could feel you around him, in him.

A tiny, halted, “S-,” was forced through his teeth.

Stop?

Slower?

He shook his head, eyes fluttering closed.

“God, you’re pathetic. What about a sorry? Can you manage a single apology for your comments tonight? I’ll let you roll me back into the mattress, for a sincere ‘sorry’.” Alastor's knees hitched, his head fell back, and he came over your knuckles with a pained groan. But you didn’t stop. You’d get your reply, eventually.

Alastor gave a threat of his own when you finally got your apology, half screamed through his third orgasm, and let him flee your bed. You nodded and agreed, yes yes, this never happened blah blah yet another example of your enormous pride.

After that night, any time Alastor wanted to yank on Husk’s chains, or double speak someone into a deal, he’d pause and look around. Expecting your two golden lit eyes to be staring, ready to flip him onto his back and drag several more apologies from him.

༻Masterlist༺

[seasprincess]

cowboy!rafe x mayors daughter!reader

part 1 here

Warnings: smut, mdni, unprotected s3x (wrap it), praise, nicknames, nippl3 sucking, degrading if you squint sweaty man

Rafe had spent his evening in a east he usually does when being around you.

His hands in his pants touching himself to the thought of you in that dress.

That god damn dress.

He loves when you wear dresses, which is most of the time if not all.

He loves the way they flow on your body, the way they stop just on your thighs or the way that when you sit down and it rides up a bit it shows him what colour panties you’re wearing. God does it get him hot and flustered knowing what the panties he should be taking off look like. Jesus does he want to take them off. See that pretty pussy of yours.

But he know it can’t happen, he knows he can’t do that.

So he has to stick to his hand.

For now at least.

The sun beams down on your skin as you make your way to your porch. Sitting in that swing seat you got for your birthday. You practically live there.

It’s calming to sit there and just swing back and forth. And it also gives a great veiw of Rafe when he’s chopping up wood for your fire for that evening. Your father really does make that poor guy work. Working any job at this point. But Rafe doesn’t care. He wants this job.

He looks so good with that axe in his hands. Muscles flexing as he cuts the wood. His biceps on show due to his white tank top. Which he decides to take off in that moment. Like he wants to tease you more.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his abs, the way they glisten from the sunlight and sweat. You could just lick them. Maybe when he’s less sweaty. He looks so good, you could just-

“Darlin’ it’s rude to stare.” Rafe’s voice brings you out of the trance and you look up at his face rather than his other body parts. He just smirks as he watches you swing back and forth. Back and forth.

“I wasn’t staring.” You were.

“Mhm sure.” He says as he takes his hat off to rub his for head of any sweat. Guess he does take the hat off.

“I wasn’t!” You say with a small pout, acting like a spoilt child. Well you are spoiled so that parts right at least.

“You know it’s okay if you were. I don’t blame you.” He says as he places the axe on the ground and starts making his way over to you. His boots clacking on the wooden planks of the decking as he reaches in front of you. He towers above you when you stand up, so when you’re sat down. It’s like a mountain and a rock. He leans against the wall as he puts a toothpick in his mouth and fiddles with it. Looking at you. “So when we riding again sweetheart?”

The nickname makes your heart skip a beat as a small blush forms on your cheeks. Making them pink and rosy.

“Oh um, I don’t know. Don’t mind.”

Rafe chuckles and rolls his eyes as he pushes off the wall.

“God you do give up fast.”

“I’m not giving up!” You retaliate as you sit up straight, defending yourself. “I’m just busy.”

“Doing what?” Rafe quickly says back as he gets closer to you. So close his knees are touching the chair you’re sat in. “Cause you look like you’re just sittin’ down to me, darlin’.”

Rafe’s hand comes to your chin as he makes you look up at him. Eyes taking in every feature of your face as his rough thumb rubs your chin.

“Do you know how wild you drive me baby?” Rafe says as he smirks down at you. He’s decided he’s had enough of your back and forth flirting with no outcome. He needs you.

Bad.

“Hmmm no.” You smirk back. Yes you did know. Of course you knew. But you didn’t think it was that bad. “My dad is out.”

“I know.” He replies before he leans down and kisses you. Softly and passionately. Hes wanted to do this for so long and now it’s finally happening. He’s finally getting his wish.

And of course you kiss back. You’ve been waiting for this hair as long as he has.

“Why don’t you show me that pretty room of yours baby?”

Immediately you spring up and slot your hand in his. Leading him to the room.

He wastes no time to push you up against the door as soon as you shut it. Hands finding the hem of your dress and pulling it over your head.

“So pretty f’me.” He says as his kisses move to your neck, biting and sucking. Causing you to whimper and moan as you squirm in his touch. You’ve needed this so much.

His hand slithers down your body before reaching your panties, earning a gasp from you as his finger brushes over your clothes clit.

“So wet for me huh?” He smirks. Almost like he’s proud of himself for making you like this just from kissing you. “Needy girl.”

Both his hands travel to your hips as he looks at you.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks as he scans your eyes for any doubts.

You quickly nod your head and reply a small “Yeah.”

He smiles before picking you up and laying you on the bed. Undoing your bra.

“Fuck you’re so pretty doll.” He says as his lips attach to your nipple.

You’re just a whimpering mess as you play with his hair. Tugging on it slightly as his hands slowly pull down your pants.

“Gonna fuck you so good sweetheart.”

Rafe discards your panties somewhere in the room before working on taking his jeans and pants off. And in a few seconds he’s naked like you. He climbs onto the bed as he holds out his hand.

“I told you I was going to tech you how to ride.”

You pick up on his words and start straddling him. Looking at him as he places his hands back on your hips.

You slowly lower yourself down onto him with a moan. You’ve imagined this for a while. And he is definitely bigger than how you imagined.

“Fuccckkk baby.” Rafe moans out as you start moving up and down. That good feeling building up every time you go back down. “Taking me so well.”

Rafes hands help you move as he watches where he enters you. This is so much better than he imagined. And gosh has he imagined this. A lot.

Your movements get more difficult as you keep trying to ride him. But it’s just too much for you.

“Rafey.” You say with a slight whimper. Immediately he picks up on it and nods.

“Shhh baby. I’ve got you.” He says before flipping you over and getting on top of you. Smirking above you as he renters you.

You moan again as he kisses the corner of your mouth, his thrusts fast and deep.

He needed this so of course he’s not holding back. “Good girl.”

He places a kiss on your forehead as you grip on his bicep. Steadying yourself as he just watches you.

Rafe lets out a moan as your legs start to shake. His finger slowly rubbing your clit, he wants you to cum. He needs it too.

“Cum baby. Cum on my cock.” Rafe says before placing another kiss on your neck.

It doesn’t take you long to cum after that. Just like Rafe wanted.

His thrusts slow down slightly as his dick twitches before painting your walls with his seed.

“Fuck baby.” He says as he kisses your soft lips. Smiling as he lays down next to you, arm wrapping around you as he pulls you closer.

You may regret this decision later.

a/n: there will be a part three 🥳 Divider- @anitalenia

tags: @littlelamy @maybankslover

[oizysian]

12 // Cockwarming // Her Favorite Show

Summary: Wanda watches her favorite show.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: dirty talk, biting, slight spanking

Word count: 680

Kinktober masterlist

“Just like that, dove, just …” She guided my hips so that her strap pressed into me, slipping between my folds and entering me slowly. “… take mommy’s cock.”

I let out a whimpering cry, grabbing onto her shoulders to attempt to ground myself as she bottomed out inside me.

“That’s it, that’s it, you’re doing so good.” She cupped my face, pressing a quick kiss to my lips before returning her attention to the television. “Now, be a good girl and let mommy watch her show.”

I whined softly and rested my head in the crook of her neck, resisting the urge to roll my hips against hers. She was holding me, resting her head on my own as she watched whatever old show she had on. I knew she couldn’t possibly be actually watching something while she was inside of me - how could she concentrate? But, if she was watching her show, maybe she wouldn’t notice if I moved a little bit against her.

I heard her giggle at some joke that was said and I bit my lip, thrusting slightly up against her to get some friction.

She brought her hand down and smacked my ass, causing me to jerk against her, a moan of pleasure slipping past my lips.

“None of that. You only have an hour to wait before I fuck you. Until then, keep mommy’s cock nice and warm like a good girl.”

I released the breath that I was holding, trying to calm myself down. An hour. I could wait an hour, right?

She moved her hips ever so slightly and the cock shifted inside me, drawing a whimper out of me. I could almost see her smiling at what she was doing to me, her small movements in an attempt to get comfortable was really just her way of torturing me.

She rubbed her hands up and down my back mindlessly as she watched her show, the simple action almost taking my mind off of how full I felt.

“Mommy,” I whispered into her ear and she hummed softly in response. “I wanna ride you.”

“Soon, princess.”

“But -”

“No buts. Let mommy watch her show or I won’t fuck you when it’s over.”

I pouted, trying my best not to move. How could I ignore the delicious feeling of her inside me, my aching cunt throbbing and clenching around her length.

I closed my eyes and sighed, doing my best not to think about how she felt - how she could feel if she were fucking me. I let out a shaky breath, hot against her skin and she shifted. Now holding my hips, she pressed me down onto her and I moaned softly.

“You’re being so good for me.” She whispered, slowly guiding my hips against her. “Only a few more minutes.”

“Please, I need you now.” I begged, hoping against hope that she’d forget about her dumb old show and just destroy me.

“Patience, darling.” She said softly, pressing a kiss to my crown. “You won’t be rewarded for bad behavior.”

I huffed, nipping at her shoulder in response, then soothing the small hurt with wet, open mouthed kisses.

“That was rather naughty of you, wasn’t it? Biting mommy like that.”

“Sorry mama,” Came my muffled reply. “Didn’t mean it.”

“No?” She asked, obviously not believing me. “I don’t like liars, Y/N. Liars go to bed with their holes full and no release. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mama, I’m sorry.”

The credits to her show began to roll and I fully expected to get fucked.

“Now,” she started, her nails digging into my hips. “Were you a good girl? Or should I plug you up and leave you to rot for the night?”

“I was good.” I said, my voice small. “Please fuck me, mama.”

“Hm, I’m tired.” She said as she turned off the television. “Let’s see how I feel in the morning.”

She wrapped her arms around me tightly, holding me impossibly close so I couldn’t move away from her. She rested her head against the pillows and sighed contently, closing her eyes.

“Go to sleep.”

[amsznn]

Please I’m begging u could you write Chris x reader when reader gets wisdom teeth out. Pet names only baby

WISDOM TEETH - c.sturniolo

-

“todays video is gonna be a bit different guys.” chris spoke into the camera before turning it to you, revealing you leaning on the kitchen counter. “y/n’s gonna get her wisdom teeth out!” your head quickly shifted towards the mention of ‘wisdom teeth’, unfortunately being reminded of what will be your reality in a matter of moments.

“chris stop, she’s literally fearing for her life right now.” nick said while laughing. “don’t worry y/n, its not that bad.” he said while patting your shoulder.

“i dont think i wanna go anymore.” you said quickly as you remembered how much pain nick was in while he was recovering.

“it’s gonna be alright baby, we’ll be right there.” chris reassures as he wrapped his shoulder around you, still holding the camera.

it took some convincing, and maybe some bribery from your boyfriend to get you food after the procedure, to finally convince you to get in the car and go through with getting your teeth pulled out. you had been in pain for a long time, complaining about the pain the teeth were causing you.

chris knew this and knew the best thing for you was to get them out. now you all were packed in the car with matt and chris in the front, while you and nick were in the back.

occasionally chris would reach behind his chair and allow you to hold his hand for some time. he knew as you were trying to appear calm and collected, your mind was actually racing.

but that feeling would only intensify as matt pulled into the parking lot of the dentist office. you did all the regulations upon entering the building, signing in, and waiting.

before you knew it you were in the chair, about to get those teeth pulled out.

“promise, you’ll stay?” you turned over to chris, watching him with pleading eyes as he grasped your hand in his.

“promise.”

timeskip

a couple of hours passed and you were finally off of the operating table. drowsy and unaware of where you were.

“where..where am i?” you spoke. you realized there was a strange feeling in your mouth. “waths in my mouf?!” you quickly tried to take out whatever it was from your mouth before chris stopped you.

“y/n, you need those in there baby.”

confusion took over for the rest of the day as your boyfriend completed the rest of the paper work and walked you out to the car where matt and nick were waiting.

“sooo..how’d it go?” nick asked amused as he saw your state. “nick, sit in the front i wanna sit with y/n.” chris said as he opened your side of the car door. you almost face planted as you got in but nick was quick to balance you before moving to the front seat.

chris didn’t feel like filming on the way back home since he’s sure you would kill him if he ever uploaded a video of you in this state. blabbering on and on about nothing that made sense while also questioning everything and anything.

“chrissy…why are there three of you.” you pouted before poking your boyfriend’s face, the reaching to poke matt and nick’s face as well. matt swatted your hand away and scolded you since he’s driving.

“why are you yelling at me?” you frowned at matt who you thought was chris before saying, “im breaking up with you!”

chris could only laugh at your antics causing his brothers to join in as well.

“y/n that’s matt.” he softly said while caressing your shoulder.

you made an ‘o’ shape with your mouth in realization, and muttered and apology to matt for threatening him.

you all made it back home, with chris carrying you to your shared room. as soon as he set you down on the bed it was lights out for you. immediately falling asleep in your boyfriend’s bed. he smiled as he moved his face in front of yours, softly giving you a kiss on the forehead, trying not to wake you up.

“i love you, y/n.” chris whispered, to which he got a snore in response. but thats all he needed. he knew you loved him just as much.

-

a/n: sorry i didnt know how to end it but i hope you enjoyed!

[angelssmvse]

𝘼 𝘿𝘼𝙉𝘾𝙀 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙀𝙉𝙀𝙈𝙔

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 (𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 / 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧)

𝜗𝜚 𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙔 You’re JJ’s sister, part of a close-knit group of friends who’ve been through thick and thin together. But when you discover you have "kook" blood, your whole world is thrown into doubt. Among the chaos, Rafe Cameron becomes a constant source of tension, and despite your differences, your paths inevitably cross. After a violent storm leaves you and Rafe stranded in Morocco, you’re forced to rely on each other for survival. In the midst of uncertainty and danger, you start to realize that maybe, after everything, you’ve both been searching for something in each other all along.

𝜗𝜚 𝘼/𝙉 I happened to dream about Rafe Cameron last night and I HAD to write about him, so here’s a one shot smut (with an interesting plot + enemies to lovers). Enjoy angels <3

𝜗𝜚 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎 smut! minors DNI. This narrative contains mature themes and explicit content, including strong language, depictions of violence, adult situations (smut), and elements of both humor and tenderness (unprotected sex, p in v). Reader discretion is advised.

You were JJ’s younger sister, a proud Pogue, raised in a violent family but surrounded by loyal, kind-hearted friends. Your tight-knit circle, bonded by years of shared memories, was your world—Kiara, in particular, was your closest friend. Despite being a “half Pogue” by blood (as she came from a Kook family), Kiara was more like a sister than a friend. You never cared about fame or wealth. What mattered to you was living a peaceful life surrounded by the people you considered family. Your brother JJ, always impulsive and reckless, had a knack for getting into trouble. He often acted as though he could simply reset any bad situation, which meant you were left to pick up the pieces and look out for him. His anger issues, inherited from your father, could be unsettling at times, but you always knew he would never direct that anger towards you. Then there was Sarah—once a close friend before the tension between her and Kiara caused a rift. Naturally, you took Kiara’s side, but you were relieved when they eventually reconciled. In your younger years, Sarah was someone you’d spend a lot of time with. You’d visit her house, throw parties, and, inevitably, there was always someone who would find it amusing to tease you. The main culprit? Rafe fucking Cameron, Sarah’s older brother. Rafe had a reputation as a bit of a bully, though it was more complicated than that. He was rich, popular, and undeniably handsome, often using his status to irritate you and your friends. But after everything that had transpired in recent months, it seemed he had bigger problems to deal with—including that new buzz cut.

You were helping John B with some fishing, wrapping up a few chores before taking a moment to relax. “I’m just so glad we figured everything out, you know? Like… the old me wouldn’t even recognize myself. And JJ? I’ve never seen him this happy,” you say with a soft laugh, the thought of your brother bringing a smile to your face. John B returns the smile. “Yeah, I’m grateful for everything,” he says, taking a sip of his beer. The view from the boat was perfect—the calm, glassy water, the fresh fish, the sunset painting the sky, cold beers in hand, and the easy flow of conversation. It was the kind of moment you never wanted to end. Except… a larger boat, definitely a Kook’s, was drawing dangerously close. John B narrowed his eyes, and without a word, he flicked on the motor. “Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” you shouted, glaring at the other boat. “Hey!” John B added, raising his voice as he tried to get their attention. Then you saw him. “Rafe?” you said, disappointment lacing your tone. “Rafe!” you repeated, disbelief creeping in. He smirked, leaning casually against the side of the boat. “Our property now! Go away, Pogues!” one of his friends yelled, throwing an obnoxious wave in your direction. “Leave, assholes!” They added, flinging their drink at your boat—whatever rich liquor they were sipping splashing across you. For a moment, you just stood there, frozen, as the alcohol soaked your clothes. “John B, let’s just leave,” you whispered, frustration simmering beneath your calm exterior. “What the hell!?” John B shouted, throwing his arms up in disbelief. Rafe’s head appeared over the side of the boat, holding a glass of whiskey in one hand, stumbling slightly as he tried to stay balanced. “Hey, y’all better leave,” he said, his voice nonchalant, though it was clear he was barely keeping it together. With a resigned sigh, you and John B started the boat, silently putting distance between yourselves and Rafe’s crew. It was clear they had nothing better to do than ruin the peaceful moment, but you weren’t about to let them.

A couple of weeks later, you found yourself on the same boat with Rafe—of all people—as he had just saved your asses from the police. Now, you were heading to Morocco, a place that seemed both like an escape and a new chapter of uncertainty. It had been a crazy ride—Sarah was pregnant, JJ was as drunk as ever, and you, well... you almost lost everything. Your property. Your life. You nearly got killed by some random guys, Pope had been arrested, and to top it all off, you had just discovered a truth that shattered everything you thought you knew. Your entire life had been a lie. You were a Pogue, born and raised, yet somehow, you had Kook blood running through your veins. Who would’ve thought? The irony wasn't lost on you. As the group argued over what to do with Rafe, you sat on the floor, trying to block out the noise. JJ, however, had fallen uncharacteristically silent, his eyes fixed on you while he sipped his drink. It was like he was trying to read you, but even in your haze, you could feel the weight of his gaze. He moved closer and sat down next to you, his breath heavy with the sharp scent of alcohol that always reminded you of your non-Dad. "Hey..." he murmured, his voice softer than usual. "Everything will be fine, okay? I’ll figure this out. We’ll kick Rafe off this boat, and—". But you couldn’t take it anymore. You stood up abruptly, pushing him away, the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once. Tears you had been holding back for so long finally spilled over, streaming down your cheeks. You could barely breathe, the pressure of it all suffocating you. "Jesus Christ, JJ, stop it," you said, your voice breaking as you turned and rushed toward one of the rooms, trying to escape from the overwhelming emotions that flooded through you. From his position, Rafe had been watching the entire scene unfold, observing everything from the higher deck as he took control of the ship. He didn’t trust any of you—not after everything that had happened. He knew he was in the wrong too; after all the backstabbing, the betrayals, the lies. He had done everything to gain your groups trust, and yet... despite everything, something about this group still gnawed at him. He had always denied it, but there was a part of him—an uncomfortable part—that felt a strange attachment to you. He hated how much it infuriated him when you talked to other guys, or worse, when they looked at you even for a second. It would drive him mad, make him feel this irrational, burning jealousy he couldn’t explain. Watching you laugh with the others, seeing how they adored you, made him lose his mind in ways he couldn’t understand. He had tried to push it all down, to convince himself that he hated you—that he hated everything about you. But every time he did, it just made him more miserable. When he saw you upset, it twisted something in his chest. He had always hated that about himself.

You woke up groggily from your nap, the boat gently rocking beneath you. Stepping out of your cabin, you made your way to the girls, feeling the weight of the day still hanging heavy on your shoulders. "Hey..." you whispered as you sat down next to them. Kiara immediately pulled you into a hug, her touch warm and comforting. "Are you feeling better?" she asked softly. "We didn't want to bother you." You let out a small sigh, nodding. "Yeah, I’m fine... Where are the others?" You looked around, surprised at how calm the boat felt, especially after everything that had happened. The girls exchanged a glance before the silence was broken by a scream from one of the locked rooms. "Let me out!" Rafe’s voice echoed, the desperation clear. You raised an eyebrow, looking at the girls in confusion. "What’s Rafe doing in there?" you asked, your voice unsure. Sarah sighed, her face tight with frustration. "We went to talk to him... and it didn’t end very well. He was armed. JJ punched him, and that was the only option left." You nodded slowly, trying to process it all. "Mhm. Okay. Okay." You took a deep breath, running a hand through your hair. "I think we should make dinner, huh?" It was the only thing you could think of to distract yourself from everything spinning in your mind. You didn’t want to open up, didn’t want to burden anyone with your problems. Everyone here had their own issues, and you had to deal with yours, quietly.As dinner came together, you prepared a small portion for Rafe. You hesitated for a moment, but then said, "I’ll bring this for him," before carefully picking up the plate and walking towards the door where Rafe was locked up.

You unlocked the door slowly, the sound of the mechanism clicking louder than it should’ve been. There, in the dim light, Rafe was sitting on the floor, his hands tied and drenched in sweat. His eyes lifted to meet yours, and for a split second, you saw something softer in them, something almost vulnerable. "Here," you said quietly, setting the plate of food down on the floor in front of him. You could feel his gaze on you as you stood, awkwardly, unsure of what to do next. He didn’t move, staring at the food without touching it. You glanced up at him again, catching his eye. "I’m sorry. They had no choice but this." Your voice was barely above a whisper, the weight of the words sitting between you both. Just as you turned to leave, you heard his voice, softer, but desperate. "Wait," he said, the word barely escaping his lips. "Just—stay. Please,". You froze, your back still facing him. For a brief moment, you hesitated. If you left now, you'd be an ass—he’d hate you for it. But then again, why should you care? He probably already hated you, right? And staying, talking to him... that felt like a betrayal to your friends, a line you didn’t want to cross. You swallowed the tight feeling in your throat and turned, shutting the door softly behind you. "Hey! Wait!" Rafe’s voice cracked through the silence, louder this time. "Hey!" He shouted, his frustration rising. You heard him begin to violently kick the walls, the sound sharp and jarring. "You’re just gonna leave me in here?!". You could feel the heat of his anger seeping through the door as he threw the food you’d just given him, the clatter of it hitting the walls making your stomach twist. You didn't look back. Instead, you kept walking, your heart pounding in your chest. As you moved away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to Rafe’s anger, something deeper. And despite everything that had happened—despite the hatred, the violence, the lies—you couldn’t help but wonder what it was that kept pulling you back to him.

The storm hit hard, howling through the night, throwing waves against the sides of the ship. You could hear the wind tearing at the sails and the relentless crash of thunder overhead. The entire ship felt alive, bucking beneath you as you clung to the nearest railing, trying to steady yourself as everything around you shook. You and John B were doing your best to keep things from spiraling out of control, struggling to keep the ship from tipping over in the chaos. But even with all the work, your mind was elsewhere. Suddenly, a thought pulled you out of your focused panic: Rafe. “Hey!” you shouted over the roar of the storm, trying to catch his attention. "I’m going to see what's going on down there, okay?" you yelled, nodding toward the cabin, your voice barely carrying over the loud wind. He gave you a curt nod, already moving in his own direction. You didn’t wait any longer. You turned on your heel, struggling to keep your balance as you made your way below deck. The floor was slick, waves crashing against the hull, and everything around you seemed to be in a constant state of motion, making it almost impossible to stay upright. You braced yourself against the walls, your heart pounding from the adrenaline, until you finally reached the locked door. “Rafe!” you called, your voice cracking slightly from the strain of the storm. You knelt down, quickly untying the knot that held his hands. You brushed your wet hair behind your ear, glancing up at him as he looked back at you. "Please don't let me regret this," you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Rafe chuckled darkly, shaking his head.

You both wasted no time. With a quick glance, Rafe took your hand and led the way. He moved with purpose, navigating the ship like he owned it, knowing every creak and groan of the ship better than anyone. You were behind him, just trying to keep up as the ship pitched and rolled beneath you, the storm making everything harder than it already was. Then, as you passed the galley, you both froze. There, sitting on the floor in the middle of the chaos, was JJ. He was slumped against the wall, a bottle of liquor in his hand, his head hanging low. His hair was wet and sticking to his forehead, and he looked like he was barely holding it together. “JJ…” you said softly, your heart aching at the sight of your brother in such a state. You walked towards him, but Rafe stayed a few paces behind, eyes locked on the situation. “Please get up,” you pleaded, your voice barely audible over the storm’s fury. JJ slowly lifted his head, his eyes glazed and unfocused. When he saw you, his lips twisted into a half-smile. "Or what? You got yourself a new boyfriend, huh?" he slurred, his voice thick with alcohol. You winced, feeling a pang of frustration. He was so drunk, so out of it, and it made everything worse. "JJ, please," you repeated, walking closer, trying to help him to his feet. But before you could reach him, he suddenly pushed himself up, swaying unsteadily. His glare was unfocused, but it was still intense. He held the bottle out toward you, but you moved quickly, taking it from his hands. “Enough,” Rafe’s voice cut through the tension. He stepped forward, placing himself between you and JJ. His tone was hard, firm. "Let's just get the hell out of here," he said, his voice quiet but commanding. JJ glared at him, his anger flaring. “You stay out of this, Rafe,” he snapped, his voice rough, but it didn’t have the usual bite. He was too drunk to even stand up straight, let alone fight back. Rafe stood his ground, pushing JJ back a step when he made a move toward you. "Not this time," Rafe said coldly. He didn’t even raise his voice, but his presence alone made JJ take a step back. You looked at both of them, torn between your brother and the strange, undeniable tension that hung in the air between you and Rafe. Your heart raced as you realized just how close everything was to spiraling out of control. The storm outside mirrored the one raging within the confines of the ship. For a long, tense moment, no one moved. You looked between Rafe and JJ, feeling the weight of the situation press down on you. Rafe’s expression softened slightly, but only just enough to show a hint of something unspoken. As you took a step back, you glanced at JJ, seeing the hurt and anger in his eyes, the pain behind the alcohol. “Let’s just get out of here,” you repeated, your voice quieter now. You turned toward the exit, Rafe’s hand guiding you away, as the storm raged on around you. But behind you, JJ’s words still echoed, mixing with the thunder outside, an angry shout that faded into the sound of the storm.

The three of you made your way back to the others, the atmosphere thick with tension as you all sat down around the dining table. The ship’s constant creaking beneath the storm’s fury only made the silence between you all feel heavier, more suffocating. The occasional flashes of lightning illuminated the space, highlighting the uneasy glances everyone was giving Rafe. The looks were silent, but they said it all: they didn’t trust him. And right now, you couldn’t blame them. You sat there, lost in your own thoughts, barely noticing the way the ship rocked violently beneath you. Everything felt so out of control, like you were spiraling, each moment pulling you further away from any semblance of safety. The storm, the tension, the confusion—it was all too much.

Then Sarah stood up, the scrape of her chair against the floor dragging everyone’s attention toward her. “Guys—where’s John B?” she asked, her voice full of panic. The group exchanged looks, eyes widening. The space suddenly felt too small, too tight. “I’ve got to find him,” Sarah said quickly, her voice sharp with urgency. Without waiting for anyone to stop her, she dashed toward the exit. “Sarah, wait!” you called after her, but she was already gone, running through the storm, gripping onto the nearest stable object to steady herself as the ship lurched violently. “John B!” she screamed, her voice barely audible over the sound of the wind and crashing waves. Her words were swallowed by the storm, and for a moment, you thought you might have imagined the way the air grew still around you. But then it happened—without warning, a massive wave crashed against the ship, slamming into Sarah with such force that her scream was suddenly cut short. Her body was swept off the ship, pulled into the dark, merciless sea by the violent water. “No!” you shouted, jumping to your feet, your heart hammering in your chest. You could barely process what you had just seen. The rest of the group scrambled, horrified, frozen in place for a moment. JJ was the first to react. Without hesitation, he dove toward the railing, reaching out for Sarah as she was dragged further away from the ship. "Sarah!" he screamed, but she was too far. His eyes locked onto her, and there was no choice left. He jumped. He didn’t even think, just threw himself into the water, desperate to save her, to pull her back. You stood there, unable to breathe, your eyes wide in disbelief. You watched as JJ disappeared into the waves, leaving you behind. John B and the others had seen it, too, all of you trapped in this horrible moment. Your mind raced, but your body was paralyzed, unable to move, unable to do anything to stop the chaos unfolding in front of you. Your best friend and your brother—two of the most important people in your life—were now lost in the storm, and there was nothing you could do to bring them back.

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. You turned around, your chest tight, hoping for some kind of comfort, some kind of clarity. But when you met Rafe’s eyes, the last person you expected to be there, you saw something you didn’t expect: sincerity. His expression was dark, filled with regret, pain, and maybe even guilt. Before you could say anything, Rafe was already there, pulling you into his arms. His embrace was tight, his hands running through your wet hair as the tears you had been holding back finally spilled over. You cried, quietly at first, your body trembling in his arms. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice low and rough, like he couldn’t find the right words, like he was searching for something to say but couldn’t find it. You didn’t know what to say, what to do. You didn’t want to feel this connection to him, not after everything that had happened, but in this moment, his touch was the only thing that grounded you. The storm outside, the storm in your heart—it all blurred together. All you could feel was the weight of what you had just lost. As Rafe held you, his warmth in contrast to the coldness of the storm, you clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt. The sound of the storm, of crashing waves and thunder, seemed to fade into the background, drowned out by the chaos in your heart. In the silence of the ship, with only the two of you holding on, there was a brief moment where nothing else mattered.

The ship tilted violently, a massive wave crashing into it, sending everything into chaos. You reached for Rafe’s hand, but the wind and water pulled you apart. He grabbed you tighter, but it only made things worse as the ship lurched again, sending both of you overboard. You tried to hold on, but the weight of the water and the force of the storm were too much. The cold sea engulfed you both, dragging you down, your desperate gasps for air lost to the waves. The ship’s creaks and groans faded into the distance as you were pulled under, and just like that, you and Rafe were gone. Onboard, the rest of the group watched in horror, realizing they had lost not two, but four of you. The nightmare was endless, the storm swallowing everything in its path.

You and Rafe, still holding hands, struggled to stay afloat in the violent ocean. Hours passed, each minute feeling like days, until you finally spotted land. The moment you reached the shore, you collapsed onto the sand, exhausted and grateful. "Yes! Finally some land!" you yelled, gasping for breath. Rafe lay next to you, closing his eyes, and you stood over him, still trying to catch your breath. "What?" he murmured, not opening his eyes. "Are you planning to stay here forever?" you asked, hands on your hips. "God, let me take a break," he groaned, finally opening his eyes. "I’m hungry, Rafe." The two of you started a fire and managed to catch some fish after several failed attempts. It wasn't much, but it was better than starving. As the fish cooked, you sat in silence, staring at the fire. Rafe sat next to you, but kept his distance. "We should keep moving—find the others," you said, your voice cold. "I don't even know if my brother's still alive. We barely—" He interrupted you. "Let’s just rest for a bit, regain the energy we’ve lost." You shot him an angry glare, your frustration boiling over. For a split second, he saw something familiar in your eyes—your brother’s fire, your brother’s determination. You were unrecognizable, and it made his stomach twist. "No," you said, looking away, your voice quieter now.

You both set off again, trekking through unfamiliar terrain in search of the rest of the group. Hours passed without any sign of them. The search led you to a village, but you were lost in the maze of unknown streets. There was no trail, no clues. "Let’s just stop for a second and think, baby," Rafe suggested, his voice softer. You spun around, fury rising in your chest. "Don’t call me that!" you screamed, your finger pointed at him. Rafe’s patience snapped. He grabbed your wrist, pinning you against a nearby wall. "Hey, listen to me," he hissed, his voice low but firm. "I’m done obeying. Done doing whatever you're trying to do. You’re blinded by rage, and don't try to deny it. I know exactly how it feels." You froze, the fire in your eyes flickering for just a moment. His words hit harder than you expected. He was right—you were blinded by anger. You softened, just for a second, and his grip on your wrist loosened, giving you space. "Okay..." you whispered, feeling defeated but also oddly calm. "What do you have in mind?" A slow smile spread across Rafe’s face as he pulled a wad of cash from his pocket. "Where did you...?" you asked, confused and surprised. "Just follow me," he said, his grin widening.

The sun was setting as you and Rafe finally found a hotel for the night. The exhaustion of the day hung heavy on both of you, but as soon as you entered the room, your eyes locked on the single bed in the middle of it. You paused for a second, staring at it, then turned to Rafe. Before you could even say anything, he threw his hands up in defense. "It was the cheapest one, don’t blame it on me." You rolled your eyes and shook your head, unable to suppress a small sigh. "Of course," you muttered, rubbing your temples. The day had been long enough without having to deal with this. Rafe just shrugged, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "It’s not like you had any better ideas," he added, smirking. You narrowed your eyes at him but didn’t say anything more. What could you say? You were too tired to argue. Still, the thought of sharing a bed with him made your skin crawl a little. But in the end, you didn’t have much of a choice. "Fine," you said, dropping your bag onto the floor. "Let’s just get through the night.". Rafe gave a half-grin, settling down on the edge of the bed. "Agreed." It wasn’t ideal. But after everything, it was at least a place to rest—something you both desperately needed.

It was late, and sleep refused to come. You sat up, glancing over at Rafe’s face in the soft moonlight. He looked so different—almost innocent, like someone else entirely. He wasn’t the man everyone feared, the violent, unpredictable guy. Maybe he needed to be understood. Or maybe, you thought, you were just too tired to think clearly. You slipped out of bed quietly and made your way to the balcony, craving the cool night air. The breeze hit your skin, and for a moment, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. You leaned against the railing, taking in the view as you let your thoughts drift. You couldn’t help but reflect on your past—how you’d gone from having nothing, to having everything, and then losing it all over again. When would it stop? Just as the weight of your thoughts grew heavy, a voice broke the silence. “The view’s beautiful, mhm?” Rafe’s voice was low, his gaze distant as he stood in the doorway, his eyes turned away. You turned toward him, catching his eyes for a brief moment before looking away. "Yeah, it really is," you said softly, your voice almost drowned out by the sounds of the night. Rafe nodded, clearly trying to find the right words, but they didn’t seem to come. The silence stretched between you, both of you caught in your own heads. You could feel the tension rising, the unspoken words thick in the air. You took a breath and spoke up, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Hey, Rafe?”—“Yeah?” he responded quietly, turning his attention back to you. You hesitated, then looked up at him. “Thank you. Thank you for saving me.” A smile tugged at the corner of Rafe’s mouth. He gave a small nod. “You wouldn’t be sleeping in a nice hotel if it wasn’t for me,” he said with a light chuckle, the tension in his voice easing for a second. You couldn’t help but smile, a soft laugh escaping you as you lightly punched his arm. "Hey," you teased, trying to break the seriousness that had built between you.

The brief moment of laughter faded quickly, and the air around you both grew heavier. The silence between you two became thick with something else, something unspoken. Your eyes locked once again, and this time, neither of you looked away. It felt like the space between you was closing, drawn in by some invisible force. Your heart raced as you both stood there, drawn together by the weight of the moment. The space between the two of you slowly closes as he kisses your soft lips. The kiss deepens, becoming more and more passionate. His hands roam over your body going to your hips as he holds you tight. You, tip toed, hold him by his neck as he picks you up bringing you to the bed finding himself on top of you now. You look up as you catch his gaze, filled of lust and desire. He begins to kiss your neck leaving love trails all over you, his warm breath makes you arch your back against him—and God knows how much he loved it, how long he wanted this, just to have you closer to him made this man feel complete somehow. A shiver run through your spine as you feel his belt unbuckle, he kisses you before leaning back, staring at you for permission as you nod. And without hesitation he finds his entrance starting to follow a slow and steady rhythm, not wanting to hurt you. You moaned holding tight onto his shoulders, he began to move faster making you moan louder, he smirks, “You like it? Mhm?” He whimpers in your ear as he kept going. You were so close, trying to hold tight miserably. Your legs wrapped around him as he slows his pace teasing you. “Rafe,” you whimper, “please.” Rafe smiles at you as he keeps up to his pace again finally making you reach you climax as you arch you back releasing all that you had left. He keeps going before pulling out and crashing on top for you catching his breath and softly kissing your neck. He loved every single thing about you—the way your hair fell just right, the way your eyes sparkled, the fire in your voice. He loved your stubbornness, the way you never backed down. But that was the problem. He hated the fact that he loved you. It infuriated him, this feeling he couldn’t control—couldn’t fight. You were everything he couldn’t have, everything he’d never deserve. And yet, there he was, drawn to you in a way that made him lose himself, lose the hard shell he’d built around his heart. He hated how much he wanted you. How much he needed you. Because in the end, he knew it would never end well. It never did. But in this moment, as your gaze met his, as your lips met his, he couldn't bring himself to care.

Maybe that was it—maybe all you both needed was each other this whole time. Maybe the answer had always been simpler than you thought. Maybe, despite everything that stood between you, despite the complications and the fear, all you really needed was to be together. To stop fighting it, stop pretending you didn’t care. And maybe, just maybe, it was finally time to admit that, for both of you, this was where you belonged.

Copyright © angelssmvse 2024 — I own only this story; please do not copy nor translate without permission or proper attribution. I give credit for the character Rafe Cameron from the series "Outer Banks" by Jonas Pate. This is the only platform where I have published the story.