#no you can throw her out of the window again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

urmum-lovesme · 1 day ago

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Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader P15

pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader

summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's ever been is his best friend?

a/n: After all this time... the day has finally come.

warnings: mentions of trauma/ptsd, mentions of s/a, drinking, smoking, bad father son dynamic, mentions of passed mother, making out, panic attack.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was late in the afternoon, the sun setting lazily through the windows, casting a golden glow over the room. The scent of Chinese takeout filled the air, and the sound of casual chatter and laughter bounced off the walls of Topper’s living room, the space was a little disorganised, with empty cans and wrappers scattered around. A large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall was showing the game, though no one was really paying attention to it, Topper and Kelce were passing a joint between the two of them, the smoky haze rising into the room. The four of them were sprawled across the room in a relaxed mess, Topper had claimed the armchair in the corner, feet up on the coffee table, while Kelce was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a half-finished bag of chips. Rafe was lounging on the couch, his legs stretched out, and Y/n was beside him, leaning against the armrest with a smile. The evening was winding down, the laughter and chatter flowing smoothly in the room. Everyone had gathered around on the floor now, a few beers in hand, as the familiar buzz settled in. The music played low in the background, mixing with the sound of ice clinking in glasses. Topper, who’d been leaning back lazily on the couch, now suddenly straightened up with a playful grin.

"You know what we need? A game,"

Kelce perked up at the suggestion. "Truth or dare?" he said with a laugh, throwing a half-empty bottle of beer into the air and catching it.

"Yeah, let’s do it," he said, a mischievous glint flickering in his expression. Rafe leaned forward, intrigued, he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

"Are we really doing this?"

"You bet we are," Topper said, his smirk spreading wider. "It’s been too long and I know you’re all way too competitive to say no."

"I’m in, whatever. Let’s get this over with."

Boys will be boys I guess...

Y/n rolled her eyes dramatically, but a smile tugged at her lips. She turned her gaze to Kelce, giving him a look.

"Alright, you’re first," Topper said, pointing to Kelce, "Truth or dare?"

Kelce looked around, clearly weighing his options. “Dare,” he said confidently, with a grin. Y/n’s eyes lit up with mischief,

"Alright, Kels, I’ve got one for you," she said, the playful tone evident in her voice. "I dare you to take a shirtless mirror pic, then post it on your main with the caption 'Feeling cute, might delete later.'"

The group looked at each other before Topper broke out in a loud cackle, waiting to see if Kelce would actually go through with it. Kelce groaned and ran a hand over his hair.

"That’s... that’s gotta be the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever dared me to do."

Rafe leaned forward, grinning, "Come on man, it’s just one post. You’ll live."

"Alright, fine"

After a moment of hesitation, Kelce sighed dramatically. He pushed himself up off the floor, walking over to the mirror near his front door. Y/n leaned over on the floor slightly to see the boy through the doorway. He lifted his t-shirt and placed the cotton fabric between his teeth, hands on his phone as he took the picture. Y/n started giggling loudly and Topper couldn't help but lean over to where she was, curious of what she was seeing. The moment his eyes landed on Kelce’s reflection in the mirror, he laughed loudly, hand coming to rest on his stomach. Kelce groaned again as he walked back to them muttering under his breath, he held up the phone to them, showing how he pressed the ‘post now’ button. The room burst into laughter, and even Kelce couldn’t help but shake his head,

"Happy now?"

“You’re so sexy Kels” Y/n teased as she winked at him.

"Best thing I’ve seen all year," Topper said, leaning back with a satisfied grin. "You’ve been humbled."

This shit's gold

As the game of truth or dare continued, the mood was light, filled with laughter and playful teasing. Shots had been taken by everyone now, and the alcohol was starting to make everyone feel a bit bolder, their embarrassment slipping away with each round. Truths from 'worst hook up' to 'best hook up' were thrown around, and dares of prank calls all merged together as they wiped away tears from the corners of their eyes. The guys were watching intently as it moved onto Rafe's turn.

"Alright, Rafe, truth or dare?" Topper asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Dare"

Topper nodded as he continued "Alright so-" he said, looking at the boy, but was suddenly cut off when Kelce slammed his beer bottle down onto the table and blurted out loudly.

"We dare you to kiss Y/n."

What-

The room went quiet for a moment. Even though everyone had been playing lightheartedly, the sudden tension was unmistakable. Y/n's eyes widened slightly, her heart skipped a beat, and she felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She could feel the weight of Rafe’s eyes on her, that familiar spark in his gaze making her stomach flutter. Kelce smirked, clearly enjoying himself far too much.

“And if you forfeit,” he added, dragging out the words with a slow, teasing lilt,

“you have to call your dad and tell him you wrecked your Rover.”

Seriously?

Topper watched the two guys who were not intensely staring at each other, eyebrows raising a little at the harshness of the punishment, yet he didn't say anything; he wasn't going to deny that he had been waiting for something like this and after all, he was a little tipsy so who was he to state his opinion. Rafe rolled his eyes, exhaling sharply through his nose as he leaned back slightly.

“Seriously?” he muttered, shooting Kelce a look that was equal parts annoyed and unimpressed. Kelce just grinned, shrugging.

“Rules are rules Cameron, you wanna be a bitch about it...?”

Asshole

Rafe let out a short, dry laugh, shaking his head. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, waiting, expecting, but the only gaze that mattered was hers. He glanced at Y/N, his expression unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes- something hesitant. The last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable, and that alone made Kelce’s little dare piss him off even more.

This is a bad idea

Y/N swallowed, her heart hammering against her ribs. The tension between them, the unspoken things lingering in the space they carefully tiptoed around, had just been shoved into the spotlight. And now, there was no easy way out. Rafe took a slow breath, his gaze locked on hers. He could see it- the slight apprehension in her eyes, the way she held herself still, like she wasn’t sure what to expect. That tiny hesitation, almost imperceptible to anyone else, was enough to make his decision for him.

So at the last second, he shifted course.

Instead of capturing her lips, he leaned in just slightly to the side, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her cheek. His lips were warm against her skin, his breath fanning gently over her temple as he pulled back. The moment was fleeting, but it sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine all the same.

The guys immediately groaned in disappointment.

"What was that, man?"

Kelce scoffed, laughing as he looked at the brunette boy wide eyed. Y/n blinked, a little taken aback by how fast her heart was beating, her hand instinctively coming up to touch her cheek where his lips had been, before pulling her hand away quickly, however from the corner of her eye she realised that Topper had seen the action. The warmth lingered on her skin, and she couldn’t help but push down a smile. Rafe pulled back, looking completely unfazed by the reactions. Without missing a beat, he shrugged.

"What? You didn’t specify where."

The guys erupted into more groans and playful complaints, Topper calling him an "asshole" under his breath, but Y/n was still processing the moment. She looked at Rafe, her smile soft but teasing.

"Guess that works"

She said, her voice carrying a hint of laughter to cover the sudden rush of emotions she was trying to sort through. Rafe just smiled back, before leaning back against the sofa, speaking out eager to move on.

"Alright, next question"

Even though the boys were devising their next challenge, Y/n was still feeling that lingering warmth from his kiss. As their voices became a distant blurr, the game continued, her mind wandered back to that moment, trying to focus on something- anything- else. Laughter drew her from her daydream, Topper shifting in his space on the floor as Y/n’s turn came.

“Truth or dare Y/n”

She hesitated for just a moment, the tense energy in the room swirling around her. Her eyes flicked from Rafe to the others, and then, with a small smile, she said,

“Dare.”

Kelce let out a low whistle as the guys exchanged glances, clearly pleased by her choice. Topper leaned forward, his eyes eager. “So I think-” he started, but Kelce cut him off once more,

“I dare you to kiss Rafe- on the lips.”

Again are they being for real right now?

The moment the words left his mouth, her brows drew down into a small frown, the two boys sitting opposite them looking between Y/n and Rafe, their faces a mix of emotions. As the dare was thrown out, Rafe rolled his eyes again, leaning back into the bottom couch,

"Are you guys being for real?" he muttered, his voice laced with disbelief.

"What is this, high school?"

I'm friends with literal children

Y/n felt her cheeks heat up, the weight of the dare pressing on her. She glanced at Rafe, then at Topper and Kelce, who were giggling like schoolboys. The idea of kissing Rafe made her stomach swirl, and she wasn’t sure why it felt more intense than it should. The lingering thoughts of what had happened on halloween flashed through her mind, and she hated it. She didn’t want to back out, but her body was already tensing, fighting the unease. Topper and Kelce, already a little more drunk than them, having just downed another two shots of tequila, egged her on.

"C'mon, Y/n," Kelce teased, "Don't be a pussy."

"We know you want to. . ." Topper added on, eyebrows raising up and down suggestively.

The girl hesitated, but before she could even think of what to do next, she found herself moving a little closer to Rafe, instinctively shifting toward him. Her heart rate quickened as her face was just a breath away from his. Her hand rested against his shoulder and she could almost feel the warmth of his skin from under the fabric, the tension building between them. His lashes fluttered against his cheeks as looked down to her, hand which was resting against the couch behind them curling into a fist slightly. And then, like a weight settling in the pit of her stomach, an unwelcome thought crept in- shadows of the past flickering at the edges of her mind. The memory of him, of what he did, tightened around her chest like a vice. It was sudden, uninvited, pulling her back and before she could stop herself, she froze.

I can't-

Rafe noticed immediately. He saw the way her shoulders stiffened, the subtle shift in her eyes as if she was lost in thought. His gaze softened, a subtle shift in his expression as he realised her dissociated expression. He pulled his head back slightly, suddenly clearing his throat, his gaze flicking to his phone on the couch behind them as he picked it up. He muttered, his voice low and urgent.

"My dad just messaged me. I need to head out."

I know lying is bad but-

Topper and Kelce groaned in unison, slumping back dramatically onto the couch, non the wiser of the made up excuse. "Ah, man, you’re no fun," Kelce whined, clearly disappointed, Topper’s hand came out patting him on the back as he rested his head on the couch behind them as well. Rafe stood up from where he was sitting, phone still tight in his grip, glancing back at the group, his hand still holding his phone. He looked at Y/n, catching her eye with a slight hesitation before speaking up. He asked, his voice soft, but laced with that familiar edge of concern.

"Do you need a lift home?"

Y/n felt her stomach twist. The attention suddenly on her made her cheeks heat, and she quickly averted her gaze, staring down at her hands instead. She didn’t trust her voice not to waver, so instead, she just gave a small nod, barely perceptible, before shifting slightly in her seat.

Jesus, what is wrong with you?

Rafe watched her for a second longer, then gave a quick nod in return. He turned to the two guys on the couch, who were now passing a joint between them again, already leaning back in a flurry of laughter. With an easy grin, albeit slightly forced, he clapped each of them on the back.

"Catch you later"

Y/n, feeling a little awkward as she watched Rafe walk out of the room, she soon heard the front door shutting. She stood up and made her way toward the door, turning to Topper with a small smile.

"Thanks for inviting us Top" she said, moving in for a brief hug as the boy wrapped his arms around her, giving her a grin that spoke volumes about his carefree nature.

"Yeah, yeah," Kelce laughed as he watched the two next to him, his voice a little slurred from the drinks.

"We know you guys are gonna make out in the car now, so whatever."

Y/n rolled her eyes at him, giving him one last look before turning and heading out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafe settled into the driver’s seat, exhaling slowly as he pulled out his phone. The dim glow of the screen illuminated his face, and as he glanced at his notifications and his jaw tensed slightly, the message from his dad was a lie to get him out of there but now, well it wasn't a lie at all..

Dad : What do you mean you don't know where you put those papers?

Dad : I’ve got more important things to deal with than your screw-ups sort yourself out Rafe don't make me tell you again.

Rafe scoffed under his breath, his grip tightening around the phone. He should’ve expected nothing less. But just as he was about to lock the screen, his eyes caught the last line of the message.

Dad : your mother’s anniversary is tomorrow

. . .

A muscle in Rafe’s jaw twitched. His fingers curled around the phone so tightly it was a wonder it didn’t crack under the pressure. Of course, he would throw that in at the end, like an afterthought. Like it wasn’t the one day that still made his chest ache, that still made the anger bubble up so easily, as though he hasn’t been dreading the day for weeks now. His knuckles whitened as he shoved the phone into the cup-holder, leaning back against the headrest with a sharp exhale. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to push down the frustration clawing at his chest.

But it was no use.

Because now, all he could think about was tomorrow.

Y/n could see Rafe already in the car waiting for her, the night air felt cool against her skin, and she pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders, her thoughts swirling. As she approached his car, guilt bubbled up inside her. She'd been terrified when Rafe leaned in, when their faces had been so close. The thought of kissing him had sent her into a spiral- she was ashamed of how she’d hesitated, how she'd pulled back. She hadn’t meant to, but her body had reacted before her mind could catch up.

Rafe caught her eye as she approached, and she immediately dropped her gaze, feeling exposed. She couldn't bring herself to look at him fully. He must have sensed something in her as she climbed in, trying to focus on anything but the overwhelming guilt. Rafe started the car and shifted it into drive, the sound breaking the silence that had settled in the air. He didn’t push her to speak, though. He didn’t really want to speak anyways, not after those messages. He just let the hum of the engine fill the space.

Y/n wrapped her arms around herself, staring out of the window, a quiet battle going on inside her. She knew she shouldn’t have frozen like that.

Is he mad at me?

Does he think I’m scared of him?

She could feel Rafe’s presence beside her, he’d been so calm and understanding since everything had happened, but now he seemed uncomfortable. He wasn’t looking at her, his eyes locked on the road ahead, but she could see the frustration there- felt it in the stiffness of his shoulders, the way his thumb tapped restlessly against the leather of the wheel. Rafe didn't say anything for a while, but he could feel Y/n glancing at him.

“What?”

He suddenly snapped out, breaking the silence. Y/n blinked at his sudden outburst, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.

What?

“Oh- umm, sorry, it’s nothing,”

She mumbled, shaking her head, retreating into herself. She could feel the tension rolling off him, thick and suffocating, and she didn’t want to make it worse. Rafe let out a sharp exhale, shaking his head as he tightened his grip on the wheel.

C'mon she's not done anything wrong

His patience was thinner than usual, stretched by the weight of his father’s messages and the lingering frustration in his chest. He wasn’t mad at her- he wasn’t- but everything about tonight felt like a mess, and now she was looking at him like he was the one making it worse.

“Yeah, well, doesn’t seem like nothing,”

He muttered under his breath, his voice taut. Y/n frowned, shifting uncomfortably. She could feel it brewing- whatever storm was building inside him, whatever was making his shoulders tense and his words clipped.

“I don’t know why you’re mad at me right now,” she finally said, her voice quiet,

“I’m sorry I didn’t want to kiss you- I just-”

“Well I didn’t want to fucking kiss you either.”

The words hit like a slap, ringing out louder than anything else in the car. Y/n’s brows raised slightly at his words, she just stared at him for a second, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she nodded, barely perceptible, before turning her head back toward the window.

Right

Why the fuck did you say that what’s wrong with you-

Rafe pulled the car to a stop outside her house, the engine cutting out with a low hum. The headlights illuminated the dark road in front of them, but the air inside the car felt heavier than the night outside. Y/n, quietly unbuckled her seatbelt and swung open the door before Rafe could say anything. He hadn’t expected her to just get out like that, but as she moved, he could feel the space between them widening and he suddenly blurted out.

“Y/n, please—”

I can't do this again-

She turned to face him, her eyes soft yet guarded. She was already halfway out the door ready to shut it, her fingers gripping the frame. She wasn’t sure what to say to him either, but the frustration and confusion had built up too much inside her.

“I didn’t kiss you, Rafe,” she started, her voice wavering just slightly, “because- because when you got close to me it-... it’s just hard for me.”

She sighed, hand coming up to scratch her cheek slightly, feeling slightly uneasy under his heavy gaze. She didn’t know how to explain it, how to put into words the way it felt when someone was too close- when all she could think about was the way she couldn’t escape. Her body would freeze, memories she didn’t want resurfacing. It didn’t happen all the time but when it did it felt like someone throwing a bucket of ice water over her.

“I know it’s stupid,” she added quickly, shaking her head, “but sometimes... I just freeze when people get too close because- because of what happened. It’s not about you, it’s just... I can’t help it.”

Her voice cracked slightly, and she wiped her face with the back of her hand, trying to push away the lingering tension.

“So, yeah...”

Rafe watched her as she stood there, her hand still resting on the car door. His mind raced, words tumbling around in his head, but he needed to say something. He couldn’t leave things like this.

You're such a dick, you're such a asshole I can't believe you said that to-

“I— I know you freeze up,” he started, his voice softer now, more hesitant.

Oh?

“I realised it and that’s why I pulled away. I… didn’t want to make you feel worse.”

She looked at him then, her gaze locking onto his eyes. His words hung in the air, and for a moment, then Rafe continued, shaking his head slightly, his tone apologetic.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier,” his fingers picked at the skin on his thumb as he spoke,

“It was rude, and I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

“It’s okay”

No it's not

Y/n looked down at the ground for a moment, shaking her head as if to brush off his words. Rafe nodded, but it didn’t feel like enough. There was an awkward silence between them, the weight of their conversation lingering in the space. He cleared his throat, trying to fill the silence, but the tension still felt thick. She finally sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips as she started to take a step back from the car door.

“I’m gonna go in now…”

She said quietly, her words soft but final. Rafe nodded, his hands tightening around the steering wheel as he sat back in his seat. He replied, but the word felt heavy on his tongue, as if he didn’t quite know how to let go.

“Right”

“Have a good night, Rafe,” she said, offering him a smile.

“Yeah, you-” he started, his voice being cut off as the door clicked shut, “-too.”

It felt weird, being so distant after being so close for the past few weeks. Rafe watched as the girl walked up to her front door, opening it, glancing back at his car one last time before pushing it closed behind her. As he stared at the lights switching on in the window on the second floor, only one thing floated around in his mind.

Kelce, fuck you man.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sky was thick with heavy, grey clouds rolling in slowly, swallowing the last traces of blue. The air felt dense and humid, like the entire town was holding its breath, waiting for the downpour of storm Audra which had been looming for the past few days. A breeze rustled through the café’s outdoor seating area, yet the air was sticky, carrying the faint scent of rain on the horizon.

Y/n sat at a small table with Kelce and his girlfriend, the condensation from her iced coffee dripping onto the napkin beneath it. The usual buzz of the town carried on around them- clinking silverware, low conversations. Y/n had gone into town to collect something her mom had ordered when Kelce suggested she meet with him and Phoebe, now he’d stepped inside to grab the girl a blueberry muffin, leaving Y/n alone with his girlfriend. She liked Phoebe, she wasn’t like most of the other snobby Kook girls. The girl sitting opposite her studied her for a moment before leaning in slightly, a knowing look crossing her face.

“So… Kelce told me what happened yesterday” she began, her voice light but curious.

“What’s up with you and Rafe?”

Big mouth

Y/n nearly choked on her iced coffee, shifting in her seat, she said quickly, placing teh glass back down onto its plate. Phoebe raised a brow, clearly unconvinced.

“Nothing”

“Oh? I just thought—”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

Wow, that was bitchy

Y/n cut in, sharper than she meant to. A brief silence fell between them before she sighed, shaking her head slightly she raised her hand rubbing her forehead.

“Sorry. That was rude.”

“It’s okay don’t worry” the blonde girl reassured her, mixing her iced matcha, waving a hand dismissively after. “I get it, you don’t wanna talk about it.” But then, after a pause, she tilted her head slightly, her voice turning softer.

“You know, a lot of girls would kill for a guy to look at them the way Rafe looks at you.”

“Yeah, I’ve been told.” Y/n let out a short, almost nervous laugh, shaking her head.

“So… what are you waiting for?”

I... I don't know

Kelce’s girlfriend smirked. Y/n hesitated, swirling her straw around in her drink before she admitted, eyes down on the caramel coloured liquid in the glass.

“I’m just… scared”

“Why?” Phoebe asked, genuinely curious. “You don’t think he’d reject you, do you? I mean, he’d have to be an total idiot.”

Y/n let out a small breath, smile pulling at the corner of her lips, glancing down at the table once more, hand coming out to fidget with the white napkin in front of her. “It’s a little more complicated than that,” she muttered.

“We’ve kind of already… almost… like-”

“—OH MY GOD”

Jesus-

Kelce’s girlfriend gasped loudly, eyes widening as she slapped her hands over her mouth in shock, leaning forward excitedly whispering out.

“SHUT UP! Almost? Like what—?”

Y/n’s own eye’s widened in surprise at the girl's sudden reaction but before could say anything else, she caught sight of Kelce returning, his hand balancing a white plate with a muffin perched on top. Panicked, she kicked Phoebe under the table, making the girl wince but go silent. Kelce narrowed his eyes at them as he set the plate down in front of the blonde. He asked suspiciously, looking between the two girls.

“What’s going on?”

His girlfriend barely hesitated before shrugging innocently. “Oh, you know, girl problems.”

“Riiight”

Thank fuck for that

He drawled, sipping his drink as he studied them, Kelce gave them both a look, clearly not buying it, but eventually, he let it go. Y/n just shook her head, exhaling softly as she reached for her coffee again, pretending to be invested in anything other than the amused smile on Kelce’s girlfriend’s face. Kelce leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head as he lazily glanced around.

“So, is Rafe coming as well?”

At that, Phoebe, mid-bite into her muffin, suddenly choked, sputtering out a laugh as she tried to swallow. Kelce reacted immediately, patting her back with a mix of amusement and concern, brows drawn down a little at her weird behaviour.

“Babe, chill. What is going on with you today?” He paused, then continued, “are you on your period or something?”

She shot him a glare before slapping his arm, making him wince. “Ouch!” He rubbed the spot dramatically, pouting.

“Alright, alright—sorry, sorry.”

Y/n shook her head at their antics, a small smile playing on her lips before she reached for her phone. Her fingers hovered over the screen as she checked her notifications. Nothing. Not a single text from Rafe all morning, and it was already creeping into the afternoon. Her stomach twisted slightly, but she ignored it, slipping her phone back onto the table.

Is he still mad at me for yesterday?

“Yeah, um… I don’t think he’s coming. Sorry, Kels.”

Kelce shrugged, waving it off. Y/n exhaled softly, absentmindedly stirring the ice in her coffee with the straw. The quiet chatter around them was interrupted by a sudden, high-pitched squeal from a table nearby. She glanced over at the sound, her gaze landing on a little boy sitting on his mother’s lap. His hair a little tousled, and he beamed happily as he held a cookie in both hands. His mother, blonde, had her arms wrapped around him, pressing a playful kiss to his cheek as he giggled against her shoulder. Y/n’s breath hitched slightly as something clicked.

Her stomach dropped.

It’s June’s anniversary…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The wind howled against the windows, rattling them in their frames as the storm outside picked up. Y/n sat on the edge of her bed, debating whether she should shower now or wait until the storm passed. She hated storms in the OBX- how unpredictable they were, how they made the whole house feel just a little too empty when she was alone. Her parents were out of town on a business trip, again, meaning she was completely by herself. Normally she didn’t mind, but nights like these- when the sky was dark and heavy, and the rain came down in thick sheets- it made the house feel too big, too quiet.

With a sigh, she flopped onto her bed instead, stretching out on her stomach, her phone in her hand. The screen lit up as she swiped to her messages, her fingers hesitating before tapping on Rafe’s contact. She stared at the empty message bar for a long moment, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. The rain was coming down heavier now, pounding against the roof in a steady rhythm that only made the anxious energy in her chest worse.

She started typing.

Hey, are you okay?

She deleted it immediately and she tried again.

I know you probably don’t want to talk

Another immediate delete.

With a frustrated groan, she threw her phone onto the bed and buried her face into her pillow. After a moment of her head laying against the soft silk material, she pushed herself up, shaking off the feeling.

Shower?

That would clear her head. She grabbed some clothes and headed to the bathroom, trying to ignore the way the thunder rumbled in the distance. Y/n stood in the bathroom, the soft hum of the vent mixing with the distant rumble of thunder outside. Steam curled through the air, fogging up the mirror as the hot water poured from the showerhead. She gripped the edge of the sink, staring down at the swirling patterns of condensation on the counter, her mind torn.

Maybe I should just call him

Just to check

Just to make he’s okay

Her fingers twitched at her side, turning back to look at the phone she’d left on her bed. She exhaled sharply, shaking her head at herself. Overthinking wasn’t going to get her anywhere anyways. With that, she turned away, shutting the bathroom door behind her before stepping into the shower, letting the warm water wash over her, drowning out her thoughts.

A sharp knock at the door made Y/n freeze, her heart lurching into her throat.

Then came the doorbell, ringing through the house, making her pulse quicken.

She had just stepped out of the shower, her hair damp, a towel wrapped tightly around her, water droplets still lingering on her skin. The storm still raged outside, wind howling against the windows, rain lashing at the glass. Who the hell would be coming to see her at 22:38 in the middle of a storm?

A flicker of unease crept up her spine.

Slipping her feet into her Ugg slippers, she hesitated for only a second before heading to the spare cupboard, her fingers closing around the handle of her brother’s old baseball bat. If this was some psycho showing up at her door in the middle of a storm, she wasn’t about to answer unarmed. Another knock- this time a little more urgent, Y/n swallowed, gripping the bat tightly as she crept to the door. She pressed her eye against the peephole, her body coiled with tension.

And then- just like that- all the tension drained from her body.

Her grip on the bat loosened, her shoulders lowering as she exhaled, leaning the bat against the wall beside her. But as relief settled, her brows furrowed.

What the hell?

Y/n swung the door open, and there he was.

Rafe stood in the rain, completely soaked through, his clothes clinging to him, droplets running down his face. He didn’t have a jacket, not even a hoodie to shield himself from the storm. The sight of him made her stomach twist.

“Rafe?”

Her voice was full of concern. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t answer right away. He just looked at her, his expression unreadable, his eyes a little lost, a little distant- until they slowly dragged over her. That’s when she realised,

The towel-

Heat rushed to her face as she quickly stepped aside, opening the door wider as her hand gripped onto the towel wrapped around her. She prayed to whatever higher power that it didn’t suddenly fall off her.

“Come in,” she said, voice softer, “you’re gonna catch a cold.”

He didn’t say anything- just stepped inside, water dripping onto the floor as he did. He was still looking at her, and the weight of his gaze made her self-conscious as she fidgeted on the spot before she suddenly blurted out, arms crossing over herself protectively.

“Right well, uh—I need to get changed. Come on, let me get you a towel first.”

Rafe just nodded, his silence making her uneasy. She led him to her bedroom, the warmth of her house a stark contrast to the storm outside. As she grabbed a fresh towel from her drawer and glanced at him. He was standing in the middle of her room, water pooling slightly at his sock clad feet, his jaw tight. She handed him the towel, then quickly grabbed her clothes and disappeared into the bathroom to change. Her mind was racing.

What is he doing here?

By the time she came back, dressed in a comfy oversized T-shirt and soft cotton shorts, Rafe was sitting on the edge of her bed, rubbing the towel over his damp hair. He still looked tense, his movements slow, almost absent-minded. Y/n hesitated for a second before walking closer, arms crossing as she studied him with worry.

“Are you okay?”

Rafe just nodded, but it wasn’t convincing. She sat down next to him slowly, close but not too close. The only sound was the rain hammering against the windows, the occasional crack of thunder in the distance. He was staring down at the towel in his hands, gripping it tightly.

And then- his shoulders started to shake.

Fuck-

Y/n felt her chest tighten when she saw he was crying. His shoulders trembled, his grip tightening on the towel in his hands before one of them came up to cover his face. He let out a shaky breath, mumbling, over and over again, like he couldn’t stop himself.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

“Rafe…”

She breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. Without thinking, she moved, standing in front of him and reaching out, her hand brushing over his back in slow, gentle strokes. He tensed at first, sucking in a sharp breath, but then something in him gave way. Before she could say anything else, he reached for her, his arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her in close. He buried his face into her stomach, his body shaking against hers, and she felt the damp heat of his tears seeping through her t-shirt. Her heart ached at the way he clung to her.

“… it’s okay, Rafey…”

She murmured, her fingers threading through his wet hair, brushing over his scalp in soft, soothing motions. He gripped the fabric of her t-shirt in his fists, holding onto her like she was the only thing keeping him grounded. His breathing was ragged, uneven, and she could feel his heartbeat racing against her. Y/n didn’t say anything else.

She just held him and let him cry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The storm still raged outside, but inside, everything was quiet. The only sound was their breathing, slow and steady, the occasional rumble of thunder rolling in the distance. They lay in her bed now, the weight of earlier still lingering but no longer suffocating. Rafe’s head rested on her shoulder, his body warm beside hers, his arm draped loosely over her waist. He had stopped crying a while ago, but his grip on her hadn’t loosened much- almost as if he needed to feel she was still there. Y/n let her fingers trail absentmindedly over his arm, her gaze fixed on the ceiling above them.

“Do you remember that one time we all went to the fair?” she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“And your mom spent almost fifty dollars trying to win you that stupid stuffed shark.”

You remember..?

Rafe let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head against her shoulder, “She was convinced I needed it.”

“You did,” Y/n teased. “You were so upset when you couldn’t get it yourself.”

“I was not upset.”

“Rafey, you were like- on the verge of tears and I’m pretty sure you were pouting.”

He huffed, but there was amusement in his eyes as he shifted slightly, getting more comfortable. He liked this- talking about his mum, remembering the good things.

And he liked that Y/n wanted to remember with him, no one else did.

Wheezie and Sarah never understood, maybe they were too young when she passed, and his dad- he certainly never spoke of her. Her name never passed his lips. A beat of silence passed before he exhaled, his voice quieter now.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you the other day… I just—”

“You don’t have to apologise,” Y/n cut in gently.

“I get it, I know what it’s like, Rafe. It’s okay.”

He shifted his head then, resting it against the pillow next to her’s, as he looked at the girl. His blue eyes softened, taking in every detail- the way her lips were slightly parted, the curve of her nose, the dip of her cupids bow, the way her hair framed her face, the way she was content to simply just lay here with him.

She’s so beautiful

He listened as she kept talking about his mom, about small things others would have seen as irrelevant- her laugh, the way she would hum while she cooked, the way she used to fuss over her like Y/n was her own child. He nodded along, holding onto every word that left her lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafe must’ve been around ten, all scraped knees and sun-kissed hair, sitting at the kitchen island while his mom chopped strawberries humming softly to herself. The scent of fresh fruit filled the air, mingling with whatever candle she had burning on the windowsill. He started, dragging out the word as he propped his chin on his palm.

“Mooooooom”

“What is it baby?”

June hummed, not looking up from her cutting board. He hesitated as he picked at the crumbs on the counter, still trying to work out his thoughts.

“How do you know when you like a girl?”

That made her pause. She turned to him then, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Oh?” she teased, leaning against the counter.

“And who’s got my boy all flustered, hmm?”

Rafe groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Mom.”

She laughed, that warm, soft sound which felt like a hug. “Alright, alright,” she said, ruffling his hair before perching on the stool next to him, looking to her son.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

He glanced at the floor, fighting a blush and his hands played with the string on his hoodie. “I dunno. She’s just... cool. And Funny. And she doesn’t get mad when I mess up her stuff—” He trailed off, feeling self-conscious.

“Sometimes... when she smiles at me, my stomach does this weird thing?”

“That sounds like a little crush to me, sweetheart.”

June’s smile softened. She reached out, brushing his hair back gently, the way she always did when he got worked up over something. Rafe squinted up at her.

“But what if she doesn’t like me back?”

The blonde woman tilted her head, thoughtful. “Well, that’s the tricky part about feelings, baby. You never really know unless you ask.” She booped his nose, making him scrunch it up.

“But if she makes you feel all warm inside, like you swallowed the sun, then I’d say that’s a pretty special feeling to have.”

Rafe thought about that, rolling the words around in his mind. Swallowed the sun. Yeah. That’s exactly what it felt like. He frowned, still a little unsure, but his mum's words were like a balm to his nerves. She leaned closer, a sly grin creeping up her face as she spoke in a hushes whisper.

“So, do I know this special girl?”

“No! No, you don’t,”

He replied quickly, a little too quickly his heart stuttered. Rafe shifted uncomfortably, his face burning, and he quickly shook his head. June raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by his reaction.

“Hmm, alright then.”

But Rafe could see the twinkle in her eye. She knew. And he wasn’t ready to admit it just yet—not even to his mum. So he kept his secret, tucked away deep where no one could find it. Not even her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lying beside Y/n now, listening to her talk about his mom, Rafe swallowed past the lump in his throat. He turned his head away from her slightly, looking at the ceiling illuminated by the dim light.

Still feels like swallowing the sun.

Y/n sat up slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she watched him. The tension in the room had melted, but there was still a softness between them that hadn't been there before. She stretched a little and pulled her oversized t-shirt up her shoulder as it had slipped off.

“How about I make you a raspberry tea… ?”

Rafe nodded slowly, a hint of a smile on his lips. She stood up, slipping her slippers on, and moved toward the door of her bedroom.

"Okay, I'll bring it upstairs in a minute—"

"-Y/n, wait."

Huh, I thought he enjoyed the raspberry tea last time-

She froze, turning back towards him. Rafe was standing, walking toward her now, pushing his lightly damp hair out of his face. His eyes were fixed on her, and she caught the way his gaze softened as he took in the natural beauty of her face, unmade up and fresh from the shower. There was something raw in the way he looked at her that made her heart race a little. The boy stopped right in front of her, still unsure, his voice barely a whisper.

"I just... I-"

She raised an eyebrow, confusion flickering across her face, "Is it the tea? Do you not want raspberry? I’ve got other kind of tea, you know. I think maybe you'd like-"

"-No!"

Jesus take it down a notch-

He quickly shook his head, a little too forcefully, "I mean, no, it’s not the tea."

Rafe shook his head, his hands slightly trembling. His eyes locked on her, and his voice caught in his throat before he finally spoke,

"When my mom, well, before my mom died, I— I know I was still really young, but she told me that I could be impulsive sometimes, I mean she wasn’t wrong. Anyways um- she said that, uh... I needed to find someone who could... ground me when I'm... when I'm not; whatever, that's not the point."

What is going on. . .?

He paused for a moment, as if trying to steady himself, hand coming up again to push his hair out of his face before continuing, the words almost tumbling out.

"And when she passed, we did the reading of the will she... she left us all letters, and I-"

His voice cracked slightly, and he took a shaky breath. Y/n’s heart clenched seeing how emotional he was getting, she could tell his hands were trembling slightly by his sides and it gave away his nervousness.

"Rafe, it's okay," she whispered softly, stepping closer to him, her hand hovering as though she wanted to reach out but didn’t want to crowd him.

"Breathe."

I am, I am-

"No, I need- I just need to tell you this."

His jaw clenched, his eyes squeezing shut in frustration, as if fighting to push back the emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

"I need to get this out, Y/n."

"I'm not going anywhere, it’s okay take your time."

She nodded gently, her expression softening as she looked up to the boy. He exhaled slowly, rubbing his eyes as though to clear away the tension, and when he opened them again, he started more slowly, his voice steadier but still raw.

"She left Wheezie this book," he said quietly, "and she left Sarah a... I mean, this doesn’t really matter, it-" He cut himself off, his breath hitching again.

"She left me something too."

Rafe's hand trembled as it went to his pocket, and he pulled out a small, delicate silver ring. The diamond in the centre gleamed even in the dim light of the room, its edges catching the light in a way that made Y/n’s heart race. Her eyes widened, and she felt a lump form in her throat as she stared at it.

What is... what is going on-

Rafe held it up between them, the weight of the moment settling between them like a tangible presence. Y/n’s heart began to thud in her chest, and her mouth went dry. She wasn’t sure what to say- her emotions were tangled, swirling around in confusion. Rafe’s eyes now flickered between the ring in his hand and her face, his fingers absently toying with the silver band, as though trying to figure out what to say next. His voice was thick with emotion when he spoke again, the words tumbling out in a rush, raw and vulnerable.

“She wrote in my letter that when the time is right, I’d know who to give it to,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to the ring once more. His fingers tightened around it, as though it were both a comfort and a burden.

"And I... I’ve been such an ass to you."

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she whispered his name, her voice barely audible as she shook her head to him, the weight of what he was saying starting to come down onto her.

Please don't-

“No, no, no—” he rushed out, shaking his head vigorously. “I’ve been a dick. I pushed you away, and I—" He gritted his teeth, his jaw clenching in frustration.

"If I’d never pushed you away that day at the hut... you... you wouldn’t have gone through any of this. None of this would’ve happened. You would’ve been with me on Halloween. It would’ve been us, in a matching costume.”

He stopped, his words hanging in the air as he looked up at her. His heart nearly stopped when he saw her eyes- wet with silent tears, the faint shimmer of them threatening to break him. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, the dryness almost unbearable.

“When I was younger...” he continued, his voice cracking slightly as he stared down at the ring again, his hands now trembling, “I didn’t know what my mum meant in that letter. I read it over and over, trying to understand, but I just... I didn’t get it.” He paused, biting down on the inside of his cheek, his voice quieter now.

“But now… now I know what she meant.”

I'm gonna be sick

His eyes finally met hers again, her face streaked with tears. Without thinking, his hand reached out toward her, his fingers brushing against her cheek gently, the touch almost tentative. "I-" he said, the words tumbling out with a weight that seemed to shift the world around them.

"I love you Y/n… more than I’ve ever loved anyone. More than I even thought I could love someone."

She stiffened as the boy’s words passed his lips. His voice faltered, then hardened, as if the vulnerability of what he was saying left him raw, bare; there was no going back now.

Oh my god-

“And it’s terrifying. Because you’re fuckin’- you’re my best friend, and I’m so scared of fucking this up, but I can’t not say it anymore.”

His chest heaved as he took a shaky breath, the pressure of the moment threatening to break him. Y/n’s legs felt weak, she felt like they were about to give out at any moment now.

“I think she knew... before I did. She knew who I’d be giving this ring to. And I—" He stopped, his voice cracking again, and he took another breath, his eyes shining with emotion.

"I wish I hadn’t wasted so much time pretending I didn’t feel this way. I wish I’d realized it earlier. Because Y/n all I want is you. I love you. It’s always been you.”

The room was quiet except for the sound of their breathing, both of their hearts pounding in their chests as the weight of his confession settled between them. The confession that had been festering for weeks, for months- year’s even. Tears streamed down face, her breath coming in shaky gasps as she looked at the ring held between his fingers. Her whole body was trembling, overwhelmed with emotion, and she couldn’t even begin to process what was happening.

She’d been waiting for this moment, her whole life, it seemed, and now that it was here, she didn’t know what to say.

Please say something-

The words felt stuck in her chest, her heart racing as she tried to make sense of it all. Rafe, watching her with intense eyes, gently lifted her hand, his fingers brushing against hers. With a careful movement, he slid the silver band onto her finger. The diamond caught the light as it settled, and she couldn’t help but let out a sob, her other hand coming up to cover her mouth. It fit perfectly, like it had always been meant to be there, and the weight of everything she’d been holding in finally broke free.

"I—" She tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat, and she cried harder, unable to contain the emotions flooding through her.

"I love you, Rafe, I—"

I love you too angel

Rafe’s eyes softened, and he gently cupped her face, wiping away a tear with his thumb.

"I’ve loved you since we were kids,"

She whispered through the sobs making her body tremble, her voice trembling. His forehead pressed against hers, the closeness of their bodies grounding her in the moment.

"Since you came up to me when I was under the tree in my princess dress..."

She let out a small, happy, yet bittersweet sob at the memory, her hand shakily reaching up to touch the ring with her other hand, needing to feel it under her own fingers to ensure it wasn’t just an illusion her mind had conjured. Rafe just stared at her with so much love in his eyes, his expression so tender it nearly made her rumble. His gaze dropped to her lips for a moment, his breath quickening as he fought to keep himself together. She lifted her hand to wipe away more tears, her fingers brushing over her cheek, and then brought it to his. Her thumb traced along the curve of his jaw as she gazed at him with a deep, soul-baring look in her eyes.

"I love you, I—" She choked on her words, overwhelmed by the truth she was finally allowing herself to say.

"God, I don’t even know how to... It’s always been you. In every life I could’ve lived, it’s been you. I don’t- I don’t ever want anyone else."

The room felt impossibly small around them, the air thick with the weight of everything unspoken finally being said. Rafe leaned in closer, his breath mingling with hers as they were inches apart now. She could feel his warmth on her skin, the heat of his lips just within reach, but neither of them moved. She whispered, barley audible,

"You have my heart… you... you have my soul Rafe."

She could feel his heart racing against hers, their chests so close together, the two of them connected in a way that was deeper than words could express. Y/N’s chest tightened as she searched his face, her fingers trembling as they lingered on his cheek, a silent plea in her eyes. She had waited for this for years, waiting for him to see her the way she’d always seen him. All those years of unspoken feelings, of longing, of keeping their distance… and now, standing here, so close, she couldn’t believe this moment was real. Rafe finally closed the gap, his breath a warm whisper against her lips.

For a moment, everything else disappeared.

He leaned in slowly, his lips brushing against hers ever so gently at first, testing the waters like he couldn’t believe it either.

It was soft.

So soft, as if they were both afraid to ruin it.

But it wasn’t tentative- it was the culmination of everything they’d both held inside for ages. Their lips moved together, almost shy at first, as if the kiss itself was a question.

Then, slowly, he deepened it, his hand coming up to cradle the back of her neck, his fingers sliding to the nape of her neck. She melted into him, pressing closer, and it was as if every cell in her body recognised his touch, finally in the way it had always been meant to be.

The kiss grew more urgent, a desperate need filling the space between them, an understanding that this was the moment they’d both been waiting for. She parted her lips, and he followed her, his tongue meeting hers with a passion that sent a spark shooting through her spine. He tasted like warmth, like everything she had ever wanted, and she couldn’t hold back anymore. She kissed him with everything she had, hands wrapping around his shoulders pulling him closer, every moment of longing, every stolen glance, every bit of the love she had kept locked inside was now let go of.

Rafe's hands moved to her waist, pulling the girl into him, his body pressed against hers in a way that made her breath catch. There was nothing else- just him- just the fire between them that had been simmering for so long.

Y/N tangled her fingers in his hair now, tugging him closer eagerly, and he responded in kind, his kiss growing more desperate, more consuming, teeth clashing as if they couldn’t get enough. Their lips colliding with a fierce urgency that only years of unspoken yearning could fuel. Their bodies pressed together, the heat between them mounting, hands roaming in frantic discovery. Rafe’s grip tightened on her waist, pulling her even closer, and Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair, other slipping over his t-shirt, fisting it in her hand, tugging him deeper into the kiss. Every second felt like it was tearing down the walls they’d built up over the years. He moved with a kind of fluidity, and as they stumbled toward the bed, his hands slid beneath the back of her T-shirt, sending a shiver across her skin as his fingers traced the soft, exposed curve of her back

But then, suddenly, it was too much.

Too much heat. Too much closeness.

Y/N’s chest tightened, the weight of his touch becoming suffocating in the most visceral way; her pulse pounded in her ears, and something inside her snapped. Panic flooded her, the sudden intensity of the moment triggering a flood of memories she wasn't prepared for.

Stop stop stop-

Rough hand's over her body which she had tried to forget. She pulled back violently, her breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps. Her eyes were wide, glassy with shock, and she shoved him back, her hands pushing hard against his chest.

"Wait-"

She gasped, the word barely making it past her lips. She pressed her palm against her chest, feeling the rapid, erratic thudding of her heart, as though it might burst out of her chest at any second. Rafe’s eyes went wide with concern, his mouth still half-open in shock at the sudden shift.

“Hey, hey what— what’s wrong?”

He asked, but his voice felt miles away, muffled by the rush of panic that swarmed her mind.

She was trembling, her whole body on edge as she stumbled back, her calves hit the end of her bed causing her to sit back onto the bed; her eyes unfocused as she tried to breathe. She couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t push the heavy weight from her chest. Her fingers clawed at her skin as if trying to tear away the suffocating feeling that enveloped her. The room was closing in, the air too thick, too hot. The panic built like a tidal wave, each breath more shallow than the last, until it felt like she might drown in it. She shook her head, frantic, eyes darting to the side.

"I—I can’t breathe"

She gasped, her voice coming out choked, feeling dizzy. Her hand trembled as she reached for her chest, pressing it over her heart in an attempt to steady herself, but it only made things worse. It felt like her chest was being crushed, like the walls were closing in, suffocating her. Her pulse thrummed in her ears, drowning out everything else, and her breath came faster, more desperate. She was drowning in her own fear. Her fingers curled into a fist against her chest, and she bit her lip to try to hold back the sobs threatening to break free. Rafe reached for her gently, his voice filled with concern.

“Y/N… hey, look at me. You’re safe. You’re safe, just breathe angel-”

But it didn’t matter.

It felt like everything was spinning out of control. The room was spinning, the walls pressing in on her, and all she could feel was the tight, suffocating panic taking over, she shook her head erratically.

“No, I— I can’t. Please, I can’t…”

Her voice trembled as she finally looked at him, her eyes wide and frantic, tears streaming down her face as she tried to speak, but no words came out. She couldn’t explain it, couldn’t make sense of it herself. It was like a flood of memories had come crashing back in, and she couldn’t hold onto reality.

The feeling of his hands, so warm on her body, had triggered something she wasn’t ready for-something from the past, something that she couldn't control. Rafe’s heart ached at the sight of her so broken, his hands hovering around her as if afraid to touch her the wrong way. “Y/N,” he whispered again, his voice low, trembling with emotion. He crouched down in front of her, his hands came out to rest on her knees but he stopped himself, instead coming out to rest on the mattress next to her.

“You’re okay. I’m right here. Just breathe with me, okay? You’re safe.”

She shook her head again, a sob catching in her throat, her chest constricted painfully, the air growing even more elusive. Rafe hesitated but pushed the doubt aside as his skin touched against hers, hands were gentle but insistent, resting softly on her arms, guiding her attention back to him as he rubbed slowly circles on her arm with her thumb.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his voice steady but filled with love and fear, “breathe with me. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

She could barely focus on him, but slowly his voice cut through the chaos in her mind. She stared at him, her chest still heaving, tears streaming down her face. He kept his hands steady on her, grounding her, as he gently coaxed her to focus on him. In between hyperventilating breaths, she whispered,

“I—I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

And as she said it, another sob broke free, wracking her body as she trembled, shaking from head to toe.

Rafe didn’t move away, he simply leaned in, wrapping his arms around her gently, pulling her close but not too tight, and her arms instinctively wrapped around his shoulders.

I've got you

His hands slid up to her waist, his grip firm but patient, and before she could process it, he was shifting. With effortless strength, he pushed himself up from his crouch, lifting her just enough to move. Then, he sat back onto the edge of the bed, bringing her with him. Her breath hitched as her legs instinctively parted, knees settling on either side of his thighs as she straddled him. Her fingers fisted into the fabric of his t-shirt, clinging to him like he was the only solid thing in the room. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, her uneven breaths hot against his skin as she fought to steady herself.

Rafe exhaled slowly, his arms wrapping around her, one hand pressing against the small of her back, the other slipping over her hair. She let out a shuddering breath, her body still trembling against his. His grip tightened just a fraction, his lips grazing her temple in the softest reassurance.

“I’m here,” he whispered.

“I’ve got you. I’m right here with you, okay? You’re okay.”

She nodded, still trembling, but slowly, the pressure on her chest began to lift as she focused on his voice, his warmth. It didn’t go away all at once, but the panic started to ebb, little by little, until she could breathe steadily again. Her body shook with the aftershocks of the storm, but she was slowly finding her way back to herself.

Rafe stayed holding her, whispering softly to her, his hands stroking her back calmingly. His chest rose and fell in slow, measured breaths, his warmth wrapping around her like a protective cocoon. She felt the steady thrum of his heart beneath her ear and allowed herself to truly lean into it, absorbing the comfort of his presence.

“I don’t know why it… why that happened,” she whispered after a long silence, her voice a fragile, hesitant tremor.

“I just—I'm sorry.”

Rafe’s grip tightened, pulling her closer as if he could erase the memory, his thumb traced shapes on her back, slow and soothing.

“There’s nothing to apologise for,”

He said, his voice firm but gentle. She pulled back from the crook of his neck, head still resting on his shoulder angled just enough to meet his gaze. Her heart skipped at the tenderness she found there- no judgment, simply understanding. She reached up, her fingers trembling as they ran over his cheek, feeling the rough stubble beneath her fingertips.

“Thank you,” she murmured, the words heavy with meaning, “...for being patient with me.”

Rafe’s gaze softened, and he leaned into her touch, his own hand coming up to run over her forearm, palm pressed against her skin. He spoke eyes never leaving hers.

“You don't have to thank me for that,” his voice low and steady as he moved forward slightly, nose brushing against the skin of her cheek as she sat up slightly. “I’ll always be patient with you.”

In that moment, the air around them seemed to shift. She looked at Rafe, as he searched her eye's for unspoken words. His thumb moved over her cheek, wiping away a single tear that had slipped down, and his smile was everything she needed to see as he murmured, his voice brimming with nothing but pure affection.

“I love you angel. I’ll wait as long as you need.”

"You will. . .?"

"S'just you and me."

She knew it was true. They didn’t need to rush anymore, there was no more pressure, no ticking clock telling them what to do.

You're my Angel baby

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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hitlikehammers · 14 hours ago

Text

(not your average) seven minutes ⏰ ♥️

or: what if Steve had been ‘playfully’ locked into a room by his drunken not-friends at that infamous Halloween party in 1984, for 💕Seven Minutes in Heaven💞!

…and no one realized Eddie Munson was already hiding inside 🫥

Steve just wants to get the fuck out of this place, this party, this fucking…bullshit life he’s found himself in. He’s not at his best, under-fucking-standadably, so when the drunk-ass Halloween masses push and shove and giggle as they lock him in an upstairs bedroom for—oh god, Seven Minutes In Heaven, what are they, goddamn twelve—he’s going to fucking scream, he— “Not quite what you were expecting behind Door Number One?” Steve spins, a little jump in it when he looks for the source of the voice which sounds familiar and then also, not, because Steve thinks he should know a voice like that, because it’s a good voice, a really good voice, it’s not too deep but it’s smooth and it’s— It’s a good voice, basically. And when he finds its owner, shadowed by the curtains in the corner, well. The leather jacket would’ve given him away if the mess of frizzy curls weren’t kind of an automatic tell: Eddie the Freak. Half-hidden as he flips a clear antique of a lighter too fucking close to the gauzy drapes and it…it does something. To Steve. It does something to Steve.

rating: t ♥️ tags: s2 era, alternate meeting, that ONE HALLOWEEN PARTY (you know which one), steve meets eddie immediately after nancy does her drunken bullshit thing, seven minutes in heaven meets truth or dare, (weirdly more effective than you’d think), first kiss(es), fluff, humor, boys being boys, climbing out of windows (like a ninja🥷), getting together (?) ♥️

again: originally a fill from @eddiemunsonbingo forever ago, and I’m only bringing it over here NOW because it’s going to have a sequel show up soon for @steddielovemonth—which I thank profusely for giving me the kick in the ass required to revisit and actually try to finish this series!

“Oh my fucking god.”

Steve honestly doesn’t know if he’s going to start crying or throwing up quicker, like which one’s closest to the surface; keeping his balance as the shock, the jagged parts that draw blood when your heart gets crushed to shards leaving him susceptible—pathetic, fucking pathetic— to the pushing and pulling and grabbing of the throngs of trashed partygoers shoving him away from the front door, pushing harder every time he tripped up the stairs, laughing and yelling and chanting and fuck, fuck he doesn’t need this, he doesn’t want this, and he doesn’t even know what the fuck it is, just that it’s not his car, and then his house, and then his bed where he can…let it all come crashing down and not have a fucking audience, just: goddamn.

As soon as a door’s thrown open and she’s shoved to stumble hard, catch his nails to bending, bleeding against the light switch as the lock clicks behind him—well fuck.

He gets it now.

Fuck.

“Not what you were expecting behind Door Number One?”

Steve spins, a little jump in it when he looks for the source of the voice which is familiar and then, not, because Steve thinks he should know a voice like that, because it’s a good voice, a really good voice, it’s not too deep but it’s smooth and it’s—

It’s a good voice, basically.

And when he finds its owner, shadowed by the curtains in the corner, well. The leather jacket would’ve given him away if the mess of frizzy curls weren’t kind of an automatic tell: Eddie the Freak, half-hidden as he flips a clear antique of a lighter too fucking close to the gauzy drapes but…it does something.

It does something Steve doesn’t want to dwell on, the kind of thing he’s kinda been working really hard and doing pretty fucking well and not dwelling on but then…maybe like, any other night, any other hour of any other night? Steve maybe would have turned, and at least tried to force the door open; maybe he’d have pushed it down like he’s been getting real good at, almost to the point where he doesn’t even have to think about it, the thing itself or the pushing it down: in fact he’s absolutely sure he’d have done just that. Any other night. After any other fucking night.

But it’s all bullshit anyway, so like, why even bother, what does any of it even matter, Barb’s dead, blood’s on his hands apparently for a pool he doesn’t even fucking pay for, his love’s fucking nothing and the voice from the corner, hell, even the jawline the flame’s casting sharp every other second, every flip open then stealing away with every flip closed: that’s something and so, like.

Any other night. It’d be different.

But it’s this night.

“I wasn’t expecting any door except the one on the front driver’s side of my goddamn car, man,” Steve sighs and throws his weight against a dresser—plain. Really plain—kid’s room. Not too young. Boy’s room. Little brother of…fuck, Steve can’t even remember whose house they’re in.

“I can see where this would definitely count as,” Munson’s tongue runs almost contemplatively over his lips as he tips his head; “a deviation from the plan.”

Steve snorts; he means it to sound amused, because he is that. Honestly he is.

But it sounds like it get halfway there, before it nosedives a little into a half-stifled sob.

Goddamnit.

“You okay, Harrington?”

Oh. So not only is he recognizable, he’s also recognizably not fucking okay.

That’s just great.

“My girlfriend says I’m bullshit,” Steve has no fucking idea what makes him just say it, to basically a stranger at that, and fuck, no, not a stranger: this stranger, who Steve knows enough of but who Steve’s pretty sure knows too many things about him for comfort, just—he doesn’t know what makes him say it. “That loving her is bullshit.”

Actually: probably that’s it. Bullshit, versus something. Munson’s eyes stay fixed on him the whole time, even as he keeps flicking the lighter.

“Does,” Munson starts, and in his good-voice, he sounds almost, like, hesitant. Which isn’t a way Steve really associates with the guy, if he associates anything with him at all but apparently yeah, he does, because he’s absolutely certain this shit’s out of the norm: “like, not to be a dick, seriously,” yeah, yeah: this is like a gentle voice. Careful. Care…caring?

And, like…why?

“But does that mean she’s still your girlfriend?”

Oh. Pity might be why. That’s fun.

“Shit,” Steve rubs his hands over his face, fucks his hair up even more than it’s been which is possibly not even possible. “Probably not.”

Munson lets out a breath that’s almost a whistle, and looks genuinely regretful—again, why, most of the people he hangs out with would probably celebrate Steve’s suffering, so like, what the fuck—

“That sucks man,” Munson says, honest, like, really honest as he para down his…surprisingly tight jeans until he extracts a pre-roll from the front picked and holds it out in offering: “on the house.”

Steve needs that shit bad enough for it to be maybe the only thing he doesn’t question in all of this.

“Thanks,” he says as Munson holds out a light and Steve leans in; the guy smells of party sweat and too many bodies, of Kate autumn air and cheap cologne. He smells…

It’s a good smell. It matches his good voice.

“You wanna?” Steve offers on impulse after he takes a lungful and maybe a little more, maybe a little too much—greedy, needy, bullshit—and holds it back to Eddie as he breathes out slow, tries to keep it all in as long as he can but not…not in a pushing-it-down kind of way. More a making-the-most kind of way.

“Do you wanna?” Munson asks, eyes so wide, like a baby animal or something. Like a cartoon character. Steve just keeps holding the joint out to him, close enough that his lips will touch Steve’s fingers if he wants them to, and in Steve’s head he feels like he’ll call him Eddie, in his head, if his mouth brushes his skin.

It does.

Eddie it is, then.

And Steve’s real good at shoving down things like the way his heart skips and fucking jumps, runs a little—he’s good at it.

But not tonight.

“They always double the time, ‘specially when they think they’re being funny,” Steve licks his fingers where Eddie’s mouth had touched because why the fuck not, and he slides down the simple preteen dresser and leans back on the palms of his hands as he sighs out the words and the remaining smoke in his lungs, but let’s go of none of the taste he’d lapped off the skin around his knuckles. Not that. “Probably longer than that if they��re as drunk as they looked.”

“Ah,” Eddie kinda, almost, hums through the purse of his lips before he offers the smoke back Steve’s way, and if Steve makes sure his lips drag over Eddie’s fingers, what fucking of it. It does make the space between his inhale and Eddie’s willingness to say any more words out loud a long quiet pause where Steve’s pulse runs high between his collarbones but it’s…it’s not bad. And Steve kinda wants to keep that in his back pocket, for later: the thing he’s gotten so good and pushing down might not feel so goddamn bad, up near the surface where it’s still able to breathe.

Huh.

“So you’re up here on a mission,” Eddie finally says, a little choked but not like you choke on a weird drag, y’know? Different choking. Steve feels the urge to smirk and while he doesn’t give into it?

It’s definitely there.

“As far as they’re concerned,” Steve says with…Steve doesn’t know what he says it with. How he says it. How he means it.

“You don’t look drunk,” Eddie saves him from dwelling on that particular unknown, lets him course correct with a little scoff.

It also distracts him from how Eddie sits next to him. Not too close, but still pretty fucking close.

“I know my limits.” Which is why he takes back the joint without a single thought and does the maybe-too-much thing, because it feels good, and lets himself look for the taste of Eddie on the paper: salt and a tang of something and then sweetness, like fucking candy.

It’s a good taste.

“I’m probably a little drunk,” Eddie declares without sounding it at all, and taking to the eeed again without a secondly hesitation; “more like tipsy, really, if that, but still, totally not my style,” he frowns, like it really isn’t, like he’s disappointed in himself. It’s kinda…cute.

Fuck.

“I don’t touch shit at these parties but I was thirsty as fuck,” Eddie gestures with his free hand, and it’s the first time Steve’s notices how his run at glint: good hands; “haven’t eaten all day and thought I’d beat the punch spiking.”

“Aww, man,” Steve moans on Eddie’s behalf, sympathetic; “the punch is always pre-spiked.”

“Duly noted,” Eddie nods, holding the joint to Steve’s lips straight on this time, and Steve thinks nothing of breathing in without touching it himself, letting Eddie decide when to pull it back. “Point being, on an empty stomach, even one such as myself,” Eddie gestures broadly at his person with the nearly-spent smoke: “is not immune.”

Steve huffs a little laugh; he kinda wants it to be bigger but he’s feeling…soft. Nice.

Good.

“So we’ve got somewhere between seven and…” Eddie glances at his wrist as if he’s expecting a watch there; Steve wants to know if he forgot one he normally wears or if it’s all for show: “thirty minutes, by your estimation?”

“Thereabouts,” Steve shrugs. You can never really know for sure.

“You umm,” Eddie ventures after a few seconds; “you want to talk about, umm,” and he trails off, but the implication is clear.

“Not,” Steve’s saying before really thinking;“not really.” It’s actually kind of weird how much he means it, too. “I was trying to get home.”

“Drown your sorrows?” Eddie surmises, but Steve shakes his head.

“Wasn’t even gonna bother,” and his asshole father’s got the good shit, too; Steve probably could have managed a decent bit of wallowing with minimal hangover. “Just wanted to get out, clear my,” he clears his throat, though he’s not sure why, doesn’t really thing he needs it: “head.”

Then Steve turns to look at Eddie only to find Eddie already looking straight at him.

That’s…that’s something.

“Then they shoved me in here because they’re all fucking assholes,” Steve chuckles a little, does his damn best to make it clear he’s only calling the dickheads downstairs assholes; not…not Eddie.

Like it was an asshole move to shove him in here but, not because of Eddie.

Like, at all.

“And drunk off their asses,” Eddie grins, a very good grin, and Steve matches it as best he’s able because it means his comments landed okay, the right way; “swear I didn’t sell anything hard enough to be the culprit.” Steve snorts, and Eddie matches that and all the matching feels…it feels.

“It’s funny though,” Eddie comments, a little idly once the laughter’s echoed out. Steve tilts his head, all question.

“No one knew I was in here,” Eddie gestures to the whole of the not-very-big room. “It’d be one thing to prank you and shove you in here with me, ha ha,” he tosses his head back and forth and sticks out his tongue like Steve knows he’s done on the tables in the cafeteria more than once but it’s softer, here, it’s almost warm or playful and maybe a little self…deprecating? Steve thinks that’s the word but whatever the word is, Steve doesn’t love that it’s there alongside everything else.

“I mean, insulting as shit to you, so they probably wouldn’t have done that to you,” and Steve frowns because yeah, these parts are thinks he loves at all; “you’re still royalty,” and Eddie pops on an accent and bows his head and it’s not mocking like it would be in school, but.

Steve doesn’t fucking love that either.

“Fuck that,” Steve’s quick to kind of…bite out. Like, hard. “And hell, if I am fucking royalty,” he air-quotes the word because fuck it, fuck it all; “it’s not for much longer.”

Eddie settles, and watches Steve almost…careful. Like maybe he’s looking for something. Or else, he’s taking the time to really get something from whatever he does see.

It’s weird. Steve doesn’t know what to do with being looked at to be seen.

“Think I’ll be glad to be rid of it, to be honest,” Steve says, picks at the beds of his nails a little, something he’s learned from all the girls he’s dated for a few days here and there—distraction.

But he means it, he realizes that for absolute certain as soon as he says it.

“Huh,” Eddie finally says, and it’s said…like it means something.

Something maybe…good. Or like it could be. Can be.

Huh.

“Anyway, they would have thought the room was empty,” Eddie picks back up, stretches a little and oh. Oh wow, he’s got a long neck when it’s all stretched out. It’s…it looks good.

Then Eddie cuts his gaze sly toward Steve and smirks: “Who were you supposed to fucking have your seven heavenly minutes with?”

Steve rolls his eyes and smirks lazily back in Eddie’s direction.

“My hand?”

Eddie’s eyes widen a little, and they’re…they’re really close, like, either Steve didn’t notice before or they’ve gotten closer.

Eddie’s lips are…really close.

“Oh, well,” those close lips are saying, but that good voice is kinda too-soft for the tease: “don’t let me interrupt.”

Steve blinks a couple times, to make sure he heard right.

“Sorry, that was—“ Eddie starts to walk it back but once Steve’s done with his blinking?

He fucking busts out laughing. Like…the embarrassing, snorting, pitchy kind of laughter.

“Funny,” he gasps a little, waving Eddie’s concern away because it was, it was: “That was funny, man.”

Maybe Steve thinks it’s too funny. But once Eddie shifts from shocked to something more like pleasantly surprised?

It feels like it was the perfect level of funny.

“Okay,” Eddie says as his grin grows but gets ducked into his chin, as his hand fumbles for a stand of his hair like he can hide behind it, which is silly, and weird.

And…endearing. Steve wants to see what that strand of hair feels like.

Also weird. Maybe silly. Maybe too much, maybe bullshit—

“Hey,” Eddie’s leaning toward him, and if Steve thought they were close before, that was a fucking lie in comparison because holy fucking wow, is Eddie close. He’s got freckles on his nose. Steve never would have guessed. “Want me to be funny some more?” He asks, a little loud, a little too bout any and bouncy and…like he means it, like he wants to be this thing but not so much for himself, or else not just for himself, but for Steve.

No one does shit like that for Steve.

“Your eyes are too pretty to be sad.”

Steve’s eyes aren’t too fucking pretty to nearly pop out their goddamn sockets when those words register in his ears, in his brain, make his chest tight in a kinda fucking terrifying way but such a good way and Eddie looks so scared, and Eddie’s eyes are too pretty to be scared and, oh shit.

“Truth or dare?”

The question kinda just pops out, which is…not ideal but better than his eyes doing that, so: win. And Eddie’s eyes shift from scared to stunned, confused—both better options. Double win.

“What?”

Steve clears his throat this time because you genuinely fucking needs it. “Gotta do something to pass however many minutes they leave us here, don’t we?”

Because it was definitely a seven-minutes-in-heaven set up. And Steve doesn’t know how long they’ve passed so far but he wants it to be a while longer that they’ve got left and distractions, distractions to keep from dwelling—

“Truth.”

Oh. Alright.

“Just my eyes?”

That, Steve clocks right after saying it, is the exact opposite of not fucking dwelling. He feels a little sick.

But his heart’s leaping like it’s never been free of a fucking cage until this moment, so it’s confusing.

Eddie looks confused too, so on top of it: Steve’s not even alone. In being confused.

And Steve’s alone so much. This is…kinda nice.

Kinda good.

“Is it just my eyes that are too pretty?” Steve says, for clarity. And Eddie swallows so hard Steve can hear it; fuck, he swallows hard enough it has to hurt.

“No,” Eddie says, tiny and faint before he straights his spine and looks Steve straight on: intentional.

Bracing for impact.

“Truth or dare.”

Steve’s kinda tired of being daring on principle. Generally. He’s terrified of the truth but…shit.

“Truth.”

“Are you fucking with me right now?” Eddie doesn’t say it mean. But he does say it in a way Steve couldn’t have lied to him about if he wanted to even try.

He doesn’t though. Want to try.

“Literally or, like, figuratively?”

The implications of that answer hit a little belatedly and Steve feels his cheeks go read as Eddie’s breath punches straight out of his lungs:

“Jesus H. Christ—“

“No, to both,” Steve answers quick before he loses his nerve, because maybe the truth was as daring, more daring even, than anything else. “Not even a little bit. For either.”

Eddie’s throat works around words he doesn’t say for a long stretch of seconds. Steve’s heart’s in his throat so, he thinks he kinda gets the feeling.

“Truth or Dare,” he forces out. Because it’s his turn.

“Dare,” Eddie barely breathes. Steve wasn’t expecting that, but the ready response makes it clear that deep down, he was hoping.

“Give me my seven minutes.”

Eddie freezes. Coughs. Pales a little before he stumbles over words less like he’s avoiding anything and more like he’s really that unbalanced. Shocked out of sync.

“With your hand?” he asks, a little squeak in the pitch of his voice. “Like, turns my back, cover my ears?”

Steve huffs a nervous little laugh. Nervous but…undeniably fond.

“No, dipshit.” The implication is…pretty fucking clear.

“You’re heartbroken,” Eddie points out.

“Maybe less that I thought I’d be,” Steve answers honestly, surprises himself; and maybe that’s for a damn good reason, too. “You’re ‘tipsy’.”

“Increasingly less so by the goddamn second,” Eddie confesses, his eyes fixed to Steve’s lips before flickering back up, so so wide:

“Harrington,” he whispers, sounding kinda lost; “I don’t—“

“It’s fine, if you,” Steve’s quick to regroup, even though his pulse is trying to choke him—stupid, needy, idiot, too much, greedy, dumbass, fucking bullshit; “you can forget it.”

Steve would like to forget it, kinda immediately; letting himself want. Letting himself try.

“I don’t,” Eddie starts again, but Steve can’t stand it, can’t beat it: that good good voice trying to make this anything but a goddamn catastrophe.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t like, mean to,” and fuck, Steve’s not only clearly suggested some very dangerous things about himself he’s only starting to even be willing to think about coming to grips with but what about what he’s assumed, implied about Eddie, guys don’t take lightly to that shit, oh fucking hell; “I don’t, you know, like, do this,” he tries to salvage, and even he knows it’s a pathetic attempt; “like this—“

“I don’t fuck around with straight boys as a rule, see,” Eddie blurts out in a rush, color high on his cheeks; “keeps my poor squishy gay heart from bruising.”

And Eddie; oh, oh—

Those eyes are too damn pretty to look so scared.

And maybe it’s less about truth being safer than a dare, maybe both are a risk in their own way and maybe…maybe both just require that you’re brave.

Steve can try to be brave, maybe. Just this once. This one night that’s different, where he’s not pushing it all down.

“If I told you,” he says slowly, so slowly because it’s hard to fight what he knows so we’ll; “if I said I didn’t know, yet, how much of a bend there might be in my kind of…straight?” Steve frowns, brow furrowed; that came out so goddamn weird, but he makes himself look at Eddie when he asks:

“Would that change anything?”

Eddie gapes at him, a little like a fish, and Steve goes back to the beginning: he’s equally likely to start sobbing as he is likely to throw the fuck up—but Eddie blinks, and his head tilts and he reaches slow, tentative, like he doesn’t know if he’s really allowed but also like he wants to make sure Steve can cut and run before his hand meets Steve’s cheek.

He is allowed, though. He’s…Steve is pretty sure he’s fucking welcome.

“Would,” Eddie murmurs incredulously, thumbing Steve’s lower lip before he does the slow thing, leaning while leaving an out but Steve doesn’t want a goddamn out.

He moves forward in a blink and kisses Eddie with all the skill and know-how he’s woven together into making the people he kisses feel good, and he puts his whole self in, all the concentration and focus and investment he’s got to make it…great, if he can.

But then something kind of wild happens.

Because it kinda feels like Eddie is…doing the same thing. Like Eddie wants Steve to feel all those things just as big and sure.

Steve doesn’t…Steve’s never been kissed like this. Like that. Like his half of the deal isn’t just a given.

Eddie’s tongue in his mouth, though: Steve has to run on pure instinct; his partner never does that shit first.

It’s fucking amazing. And given the moans he gets, the wet sucking sounds and the panting before they reconnect again, then again: Steve’s willing to bet his instincts are pretty solid.

They finally break for more than a second and Eddie’s hands come to Steve’s chest for balance as he gasps, as his hair falls in a curtain between them and Steve’s barely got the breath in him to speak yet when he covers one of Eddie’s hands with his own and half-whispers.

“Come on,” and he’s tugging Eddie to standing, both of them a little wobbly on their feet for a second or two before Eddie stills.

“We’re locked in,” he seems to remember in real time, like the whole kissing thing—not quite seven minutes; maybe more than seven minutes; not e-fucking-nough either way—knocked reasonable thought out of him for a second, there.

“The window,” Steve’s prepared for it, leads him over with their hands still kinda just covering each other, kinda holding one another, kinda a lot of things. “I’ve been here before, we can get out,” because yeah, he knows the house even if he still doesn’t remember who it belongs to; “and you haven’t eaten,” Steve remembers that clear as day, frowning at Eddie, almost scolding him.

Eddie lights up, though. Like maybe there are things no one’s really ever thought of for Eddie, too. Like, maybe Steve wasn’t the only one finding out someone could…pay attention.

Like he was worth paying attention to.

And like…Eddie? Steve doesn’t know exactly what to do with all the things that are tied up in everything he pushes down, where they’re bubbling up and seeping from his pore or some shit, but what he does know, without a doubt?

Eddie Munson is very much worth paying attention to.

“What the hell’s even open,” Eddie says, and Steve takes a second to add it up—food, he needs food—and he grins, and like…he kinda can’t help it? He definitely doesn’t think about it before he kisses Eddie, hard and quick and more smile in it than…he kinda remembers having, or giving, like…

More than he remembers. At all.

Huh.

“Benny’s if we’re quick,” Steve breaks off and pushes the window open; “otherwise the kitchen at Casa Harrington makes a hell of a TV dinner this time of night,” he tosses a grin Eddie’s way that’s nothing like he uses on the girls, he can tell, can feel it: it’s goofy and sincere and…yeah. “Probably got like a Salisbury steak one.”

It’s Eddie who leans, quicker and more like he’s stealing it, like he’s sneaking it and jumping back quick just in case he gets caught and it’s in doing that exactly that Steve has the incredibly clear sense, amidst all the unclear shit in his chest and his brain and his everything, that he…wants to catch Eddie.

“Fancy,” Eddie grins, and oh fuck.

Oh fuck, those dimples.

“Only the best for my honored guests,” Steve pokes one of those heavenly fucking dimples and oh.

Oh.

Steve’s making sure the window won’t fall on them as them climb down when Eddie leans close, looks down, and talks really close to Steve’s ear:

“They’re a reason we didn’t bail from the get-go?”

Steve wouldn’t hide the way he shivers if he tried.

“Honestly?” Steve chuckles, light with it, maybe…and he’s not sure okay, he could be making shit up and talking out his ass but, like, maybe he’s…

Free with it. Free with it?

He looks at Eddie who’s still grinning, dimples and all.

Free’s close enough.

“I don’t know, wasn’t really thinking,” Steve admits, and then tries the brave thing one more time: “truth or dare?”

Eddie’s answer is immediate, leaned close again against Steve’s shoulder, close at his ear:

“Truth.”

“Will you be angry if I said I wasn’t mad,” Steve turns, and their lips are so close: “that I didn’t think of leaving from the start?”

“Oddly enough?” Eddie grins so near that just the motion brushes their mouths. “Not even a little bit.” Then Eddie leans closer, means to, and doesn’t run like he’s stealing anything this time when he kisses Steve like he means it.

Then he’s speaking straight against Steve’s lips: “Truth or dare?”

And fuck it; everything’s been mixed up, shattered, rebuilt, turned inside out tonight. So far it’s turning out way better than Steve could have guessed. Definitely so much better than it started.

Might as well keep running with it.

“Dare.”

Eddie grins but there’s a heat to it, but then alongside, there’s something…mischievous. And then Eddie’s bumping his head into Steve’s and murmuring close:

“You climb down first and catch my ass when I inevitably fall halfway,” he issues his challenger; “I’m uncoordinated as shit.”

And Steve was wrong before.

The kiss he gives Eddie has more smile in it than he’s ever had, or shown, or shared before; not once in his whole goddamn life.

He could get used to it.

🧡

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anonity · 2 days ago

Text

wrote something quick and sweet for you guys because i have a whopping 40 pages of angst sitting in my drafts rn.. do we want the pazzi fic first or the paige x reader fic?

anyways enjoy

summary: azzi drags paige out of bed at 6 in the morning, just to go to the gym. (also, they’re dating and paige is in love) WC: 1000ish

beep, beep, bee–

paige buries her head into her pillow as silence befalls the room – for three seconds. then, it gets ripped out from underneath her.

“morning, paige!” azzi’s voice rings, annoyingly chipper for – paige cracks an eye open, finally looking at her alarm – 6 in the morning.

hesitantly, hoping if she moved slowly enough azzi would not notice she was awake, she looked towards where the voice had come from. instead, she comes face to face with neon pink. azzi steps back, and paige finally gets to take in everything in front of her – gray sweats, a bright hoodie, and a black gym bag slung over her shoulder.

the sight makes paige want to die.

“az,” she groans, yanking their blanket up over her head, “it’s six in the morning.”

azzi promptly pulls the entire comforter away. “six-thirty,” she corrects helpfully, balling up the blanket and leaving it on the opposite end of the bed. paige groans again, reaching blindly for it. it’s decidedly too far, so she settles instead on falling limply against the mattress.

azzi’s nose scrunches in response. “you promised you’d come to the gym with me.”

paige mumbles something that sounds like another complaint, but her voice is muffled in the mattress. azzi shoves her shoulder, forcing her face up. “c’mon, don’t make me pull you out.”

paige just barely cracks a smile. “you never have to pull out, ma.”

“paige!” azzi yelps in response, slapping her chest half-heartedly. “that doesn’t even make sense! get up!”

feeling particularly unamused again, paige's voice comes out groggy. “you know not to make plans with me before nine in the morning.”

azzi’s eyes narrow. “then you shouldn’t have said you’d go with me.”

paige doesn’t answer, throwing an arm over her eyes instead. azzi lets out an overly-emphasized sigh, leaning down so her face is level with paige’s.”you’re lucky i think you’re cute.”

paige peeks out from under her arm. she’s met with that soft, sickeningly fond look azzi reserves only for her, and can’t help the smile it warrants. “you think i’m cute?”

“i think you’re lazy,” azzi shoots back, standing straight again. “but, because i know you soo well, i brought you coffee.”

paige perks up immediately, reaching for the cup expectantly. “you’re the best, az.”

azzi immediately pulls back, holding it just out of reach. “nuh-uh,” she chides, a glint in her eye that can only mean trouble for paige. “not until you’re ready to go.”

paige scowls. “you’re joking.”

“it’s strategic.”

the second the word leaves azzi’s mouth, it’s a mistake – she knows it because paige immediately shoots up from the bed, wrapping her arms around her.

“paige!” she tries to sound annoyed, but the giggle that follows is indisputable. “get off of me!”

paige immediately fumbles for the coffee cup, a disposable one from downstairs, and briefly wonders when azzi had time to even go get it. “taunting opponents is not a strategy, it’s a flagrant foul,” she corrects, still fighting for the drink. azzi pokes her side in that spot that always has paige jerking away and frees herself, holding the still-intact coffee up triumphantly.

“all is fair in love and basketball,” she grins.

paige scowls. “don’t use my favorite movie against me.”

“it’s my favorite movie.”

“i had it first.”

“you did not!”

“did too, i’m older than you.”

baffled, azzi jerks back. “what does that have to do with anything?”

paige straightens, looking particularly smug. “it means i had time to watch it before you did.”

“paige!” azzi groans, shoving her towards the dresser. “get dressed!”

paige grumbles but acquiesces, yanking on a pair of sweatpants and a thin t-shirt. there’s cold biting through the windows of their apartment, and azzi briefly comments on paiges lack of a jacket, but paige shrugs her off lazily. “ion’ need no jacket, i’m a big dawg.”

azzi doesn’t try to correct her again, (even though the phrase big dawg has her rolling her eyes) and instead leans against the doorframe of their room. paige all but throws herself back onto the bed, tying her shoes with drama only rivaled by toddlers.

azzi tracks each tug of laces with barely concealed amusement, taking a purposefully loud sip of paige’s coffee.

giving one last tug, paige stands from the bed and saunters over to where azzi is leaned. raising her eyebrows and staring expectantly at the coffee again, azzi finally hands it over. “now, all that drama was for nothing,” she says pointedly. paige hums as if she disagrees, but doesn’t add to her argument as she follows azzi out the door.

they don’t speak again until their feet land on the sidewalk outside. the air in storrs is sharp, frost clinging to the ground like broken cobwebs, and paige can’t help the shiver that wracks her body.

really and truly, she should have grabbed a hoodie like azzi had suggested. she can already hear the i told you so forming in azzi’s mouth, though, so paige stays quiet. instead, she scrunches her nose against the breeze and turns finally to look over azzi’s features.

the sun is just barely rising – the barren trees lining the sidewalk are casting long, soft shadows across her face. azzi walks a step ahead, hands tucked into her hoodie pockets and posture straight. the light flickers over her features – the way her lashes fan against her eyebrows, the pink dusting the easy slope of her nose, the way her lips are tugged into that ever-present smile.

paige can’t help the way her gaze lingers. azzi’s exhale rises in a delicate plume, curling lazily into the quiet air.

paige thinks she’s pretty – and, actually, that she’s quite lucky to have someone like azzi dragging her out at 6 in the morning.

ever the instigator, though, paige chooses not to voice the softness of her thoughts. instead, she tears her gaze away and rolls her eyes. “you’re lucky i love you.”

azzi glances over, dimples falling over her face as she grins again. her voice is soft, tinged with a quiet warmth meant only for paige to hear. “i know.”

#paige bueckers x azzi fudd #paige bueckers x azzi fudd fic #pazzi #pazzi fic #pazzi fics #paige bueckers x azzi fudd fics #tbh i hate using tags #like what do i even say #here i go again writing some more queers into fiction #sickeningly sweet?#reminding everyone they're single?

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luvfae · 12 hours ago

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CLEAN, PT 2

summary: after rehab, you reunite with thanos, sharing love, passion, and a fresh start together.

parings: thanos/choi su-bong x f!reader

warnings: mention of addiction, swearing, smut, oral (both receiving), fingering, handjob, unprotected sex (don’t be an idiot), p in v.

part 1

Three months ago, Thanos had dragged you—kicking, screaming, and cursing his name—into the same rehab facility where he had gotten clean.

Today, you were walking out.

With no family to pick you up (Thanos didn’t even know if you had any who cared), he was the one waiting.

Three excruciating months apart. He spent every day wondering if you hated him, if you were okay. But no calls from the facility meant you weren’t doing too bad. Meanwhile, you had spent those months drowning in withdrawal, fighting everyone who tried to help, refusing therapy—until eventually, you gave in. And for the first time in years, you felt normal. You started to remember the girl you used to be before the drugs took her away.

Then came the shame. The time lost. You should’ve graduated from art school by now, but instead, addiction had dictated your life. You regretted cutting off your family, pushing away friends until you had none left. You regretted how you had treated Thanos when all he ever did was try to save you.

And now, standing at the door, your hands trembled. Would anyone even be waiting for you?

Then—

“Y/N.”

You blinked.

Thanos.

You didn’t think. You just ran.

Throwing yourself at him, you hugged him so tightly it knocked the wind out of him. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, voice shaking. You pulled back slightly to look at him. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t thank me,” he murmured, brushing away your tears.

“I didn’t deserve your help,” you admitted, pulling away completely. He caught your hands, grounding you. “I was so awful to you. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know what it’s like to be an addict,” he replied. “Everyone deserves help.”

Sniffing, you wiped your eyes as he led you to his car.

It was strange. You had known Thanos for nine months, lived with him, had sex with him, and yet… you didn’t really know him. Your brain had been so fried on drugs you barely retained any information.

And Thanos was the same. He had taken care of you, paid for your rehab, seen you at your lowest, and yet he didn’t know who you were.

Maybe it was time to change that.

The car ride was quiet at first. You were still getting used to the feeling of sobriety, of being aware. But as the city passed by through the windows, you glanced at Thanos.

“I used to paint,” you blurted out.

He looked at you. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Before everything… I loved painting. I was good at it, too. I was supposed to graduate art school a few years ago. Art was my dream.”

Silence settled for a moment before you continued. “I had a good life. A good family. My parents weren’t perfect, but they cared. I had a future. And then I got caught up with the wrong people.” You swallowed. “I let it ruin me.”

Thanos tightened his grip on the wheel. “It’s not too late.”

You let out a small, breathy laugh. “You sound like my therapist.”

“Well, your therapist is right,” he said, glancing at you. “You’re clean now. You can start again.”

You didn’t reply, just watched the city blur past.

“What about you?” you asked. “How did you get into rapping?”

Thanos smirked slightly. “It was either rap or go to jail.”

Your brows furrowed, but you stayed quiet, waiting for him to explain.

“I was a street kid,” he said. “Grew up bouncing between different family members. No real home. I got into some bad shit—gangs, drugs, fights. Ended up locked up a few times as a teenager. But music…” He sighed, tapping his fingers against the wheel. “Music was my way out. I started writing lyrics in juvie. Got out, kept at it, got lucky. Somehow, I made it big.”

You stared at him, realizing this was the first real conversation you’d ever had. “Do you love it?”

Thanos was quiet for a beat. “Yeah. I do.”

You smiled softly. “I’d like to hear your songs sometime. Really hear them. Not just in the background while I’m high out of my mind.”

His lips quirked up. “I’d like that too.”

And for the first time in a long time, you both felt like you were finally getting to know each other.

Thanos had loved you before—loved you in your worst moments, through the chaos, the anger, the addiction. But this version of you? The version that was bright-eyed, passionate, full of life again? He loved this version even more.

As he stole glances at you in the passenger seat, he really saw you for the first time. Your cheeks had filled out, your skin looked healthier, your eyes were wide and alert instead of hazy and half-lidded. And that smile—soft, genuine, real.

You were beautiful.

He pulled into the driveway, and you blinked, tilting your head.

“This isn’t the place I remember,” you said, glancing up at the massive mansion in front of you.

Thanos shrugged. “Bought a new house while you were gone.” He put the car in park and looked over at you. “Wanted to leave the bad memories behind and make good ones here instead.”

You let out a small laugh. “House? More like a mansion.”

Thanos smirked, pushing open his door. “Being rich and famous has its perks.”

You stepped out after him, following him inside. The space was opulent—high ceilings, sleek furniture, stunning artwork lining the walls. You turned in slow circles, taking it all in.

“I’ll donate them to charity,” Thanos said.

You glanced at him, confused. “What?”

“The paintings,” he clarified. “I’d rather have your art on my walls.”

Your cheeks burned, and you ducked your head, kicking at the floor. “I haven’t picked up a paintbrush in years,” you admitted. “Not sure I even can anymore.”

Thanos smiled. “I bet you can.”

Before you could argue, he took your hand and led you up the grand staircase, past a few closed doors, before stopping in front of one. He pushed it open, revealing a bedroom with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the entire city.

“This is your room,” he said simply.

You stepped inside, breath catching. It was beautiful. Warm-toned, cozy, welcoming. He walked over to the closet and pulled open the doors, revealing racks of neatly hung designer clothes, tags still on them.

“I even got you a new wardrobe,” he added.

You stared at the clothes, shaking your head. “Thanos, this is too much,” you whispered. “After everything I put you through… You shouldn’t have to take care of me anymore.”

He turned to you, gaze steady. “I want to.”

His words sat heavy between you. No hesitation, no doubt.

For the first time in a long time, you felt happy.

Real, genuine happiness. The kind that made your stomach flip and your heart race.

Or maybe it wasn’t just happiness. Maybe it was something deeper, something terrifying in its intensity.

You stared at him, eyes brimming with tears. “Thank you.” Your voice was barely a whisper, afraid that if you spoke any louder, the moment would shatter.

Thanos met your gaze, unwavering. “You’re welcome.”

You stepped forward hesitantly. “I don’t remember a lot from when I was using,” you admitted. “But I remember you.”

His brows lifted slightly. “What do you remember?”

You swallowed hard. “I remember you force-feeding me when I refused to eat. Flushing my stash down the toilet. I remember screaming in your face, kicking holes in your walls.” A tear slipped down your cheek, but you kept going. “I remember sleeping with strangers, with your friends—right after you told me you loved me.” Your voice cracked. “I was horrible to you. But that wasn’t the real me. I swear.”

Thanos nodded, watching you carefully. “I know,” he said simply. “But there were good times too, right? You remember those?”

You did.

You remembered the way he’d tuck you in at night, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. The way he’d run a bath for you after you got sick all over yourself, holding you steady as he cleaned you up. The way he kissed you like he was willing to set the world on fire for you. The way he touched you, loved you, even when you were too far gone to truly feel it.

“I remember how you made me feel,” you whispered, stepping closer.

His lips parted, his breath hitching as your fingers traced up his chest.

“I remember your hands,” you murmured, voice turning sultry. “Your mouth. Your tongue. Your fingers.” Your hand slid lower, brushing over the hardening bulge in his jeans. “Your cock inside me.”

Thanos inhaled sharply as you pushed your palms against his chest.

You had spent weeks thinking about this—about fucking him sober. About feeling everything for the first time.

“You made me feel so good,” you purred. “So fucking good, Thanos.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “My real name is Su-bong,” he muttered, his voice hoarse.

You smirked. “Well—Su-bong…” Your eyes darkened with intent. “Let me make it up to you. Let me show you how good I can be.”

That was all it took.

His lips crashed against yours, hungry and demanding, his hands gripping your waist as he backed you toward the bed. You gasped as the backs of your knees hit the mattress, and he wasted no time pushing you onto your back, peeling his shirt off in one swift motion and tossing it to the floor.

You sat up slightly, dragging your fingertips down his toned abdomen, your mouth practically watering at the sight of him.

He was already hard for you.

And this time, you were completely, devastatingly sober.

You dragged your nails down his chest, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch. His skin was warm, firm—real. For the first time, you were feeling him, not just through a hazy drug-fueled blur, but with a clarity that sent a shiver down your spine.

Thanos—Su-bong—looked down at you with dark, hooded eyes, his lips parted slightly as he took you in. “You’re teasing me,” he murmured, voice thick with desire.

You smirked, trailing your fingers lower, letting them ghost over the waistband of his jeans. “Maybe,” you mused. “I owe you, don’t I?”

His hands slid up your sides, rough palms skimming the soft fabric of the shirt he had given you months ago—the same one you had walked out of rehab in. Slowly, he peeled it up and over your head, letting it drop to the floor.

His gaze roamed over you, drinking in every inch of exposed skin, every little mark and scar. You weren’t the frail, hollow version of yourself anymore. You were whole.

“You’re beautiful,” he muttered, his fingers trailing over your ribs, then up to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples. You let out a soft gasp, arching into his touch.

His mouth found your throat, lips pressing firm, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck. He sucked lightly at your pulse, dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin, making you shudder.

“Su-bong,” you breathed, threading your fingers through his hair.

He groaned at the way you said his name, his hands sliding down your body, squeezing at your waist, your hips, like he was memorizing the shape of you.

You tugged at the waistband of his jeans, undoing the button and pulling the zipper down, your fingers slipping inside to brush against the hard length beneath his boxers. He let out a sharp exhale, hips jerking forward slightly at your touch.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his forehead dropping against yours. “You really want this?”

You wrapped your fingers around him, squeezing just enough to make him curse under his breath. “More than anything,” you whispered.

His lips crashed against yours again, hungrier this time, his hands gripping your thighs as he pushed you back onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs. You gasped as he kissed his way down your body, his mouth hot and insistent against your skin.

When he reached the waistband of your jeans, he hooked his fingers into them, glancing up at you for permission.

You lifted your hips in response, breath hitching as he dragged them down, taking your panties with them, exposing you completely to him.

His eyes darkened, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “Fuck, baby,” he muttered, his voice thick with lust.

Then, without hesitation, he leaned down and devoured you.

His tongue flicked against your clit, slow and teasing, sending a jolt of pleasure through your core. Your fingers twisted into his hair, hips jerking instinctively, but he pinned you down with a firm grip on your thighs.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groaned against you, his breath hot, his voice thick with hunger. “Missed this pussy so much.”

A whimper slipped from your lips as he flattened his tongue and licked a long, slow stripe up your slit before sucking your clit into his mouth. Your back arched, thighs trembling, but just as the pleasure built, just as you felt yourself spiraling, you pushed at his shoulders.

Thanos pulled back, his mouth glistening, brows furrowing in confusion. “What?”

You took a shaky breath, trying to clear the haze of pleasure from your mind. “This is about you, not me,” you murmured, pushing yourself up on your elbows. “I’m paying you back.”

A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. “If it’s about me, then I should get to do what I want,” he countered, voice low, dangerous. “And what I want to do is fucking taste you.”

“Jesus Christ,” you breathed, heat surging through your body.

Before you could protest further, he dove back in, his tongue circling your clit while two fingers slid inside you, curling just right. A strangled moan tore from your throat, your hips bucking as he worked you open, relentless and precise.

It didn’t take long—he knew exactly how to unravel you, exactly how to have you gripping his hair and gasping his name. Your orgasm hit fast and hard, your body shaking as he held you down, licking you through every wave until you were panting, overstimulated.

Only then did he pull away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, looking so fucking smug.

“Fuck,” you muttered, still catching your breath. “I forgot how good you were at that. Feels even better sober.”

His smirk widened. “Unforgettable, baby.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips. Pushing him onto his back, you straddled his hips, hands sliding up his chest, fingers teasing over his nipples before raking down his abs.

“My turn,” you whispered.

You kissed down his body, taking your time, nipping at his collarbones, sucking marks into his skin just to watch him tense beneath you. When you reached the waistband of his jeans, you tugged them down, freeing his cock, your mouth practically watering at the sight of him—thick, hard, already leaking.

You wrapped your fingers around him, stroking slow, teasing. His breath hitched, his head tipping back against the pillows.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his fingers curling into the sheets. “You gonna take care of me, baby?”

You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his tip, then dragged your tongue along his length, watching the way his stomach tensed beneath you.

“Of course,” you murmured, voice dripping with promise.

And then you took him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as he let out a deep, guttural moan, his hands flying to your hair.

Your tongue worked him slowly, dragging along every inch of his length, teasing just to hear him groan. You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, letting him hit the back of your throat, moaning around him just to feel the way he twitched in your mouth.

“Shit, baby,” Thanos growled, his fingers tightening in your hair. “Missed your mouth—so perfect, so fucking good for me.”

The praise only made you more eager. You bobbed your head, stroking the rest of him with your hand, slick and messy, making sure to keep your eyes on him. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his jaw clenched, his muscles tense as he fought to keep control.

But you didn’t want him to be in control.

You pulled off him with a lewd pop, kissing up his abs as you moved to straddle his waist. His cock was hard, flushed, throbbing against your soaked folds as you rubbed against him, teasing both of you.

“Hey,” he hissed, gripping your hips. “Quit teasing.”

You smirked, leaning down to kiss him, slow and deep, your fingers threading into his hair. “You always take care of me,” you whispered against his lips. “Let me take care of you now.”

Without breaking eye contact, you reached down, guiding him to your entrance before sinking down onto him in one slow, delicious slide. Both of you gasped at the sensation, your walls stretching around him, molding to him perfectly like you were made for this.

“Jesus,” Thanos groaned, his head tipping back, fingers digging into your hips as he tried not to lose himself completely.

“You feel so good,” you breathed, placing your hands on his chest, rolling your hips slowly, savoring the way he filled you so perfectly. “So fucking good, Su-bong.”

His eyes snapped open at the sound of his real name on your lips, dark and wild with lust. He sat up suddenly, wrapping an arm around your waist, his mouth latching onto your neck, sucking bruises into your skin as you continued moving, grinding against him, taking him deeper.

You moaned, clinging to his shoulders, kissing him desperately, your tongues tangling, the pleasure building between you like a fire. “Thank you,” you whispered against his lips, rocking faster, harder. “Thank you for saving me. For never giving up on me.”

A low growl rumbled in his chest as he flipped you onto your back, keeping you pinned beneath him, his hips snapping against yours, hitting deeper, harder.

“You’re mine,” he muttered between kisses, his voice rough, possessive. “Always fucking mine.”

“Yours,” you gasped, nails raking down his back, legs wrapping around him to pull him even closer. “Only yours.”

His pace turned desperate, his thrusts brutal yet somehow still so full of love, his forehead pressing against yours, his hand slipping between you to rub your clit, determined to drag you over the edge with him.

And when you came—hard, clenching around him, gasping his name like a prayer—he followed right after, burying himself deep, groaning into your mouth as he filled you, his entire body shuddering against yours.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, tangled together in the aftermath, your breathing heavy, your hearts racing in sync.

Then Thanos kissed you again, softer this time, lingering. “I still love you,” he murmured against your lips. “I always have.”

You smiled, brushing your fingers through his damp hair. “I think I love you too.”

And when he pulled you into his arms, holding you close like he never wanted to let go, you knew—you meant it.

You lay there for a while, tangled up in each other, your skin slick with sweat, his breath warm against your neck. The weight of him felt comforting, grounding, like you never wanted him to move.

But eventually, you stirred, pressing a soft kiss to his temple before slipping out of his arms.

“Where are you going?” Thanos mumbled, his voice thick with exhaustion.

You giggled, running a hand through his messy hair. “Relax, I’m just grabbing a towel.”

You padded to the bathroom, your legs still wobbly, but you didn’t care. You cleaned yourself up before wetting a towel, you returned to the bed, settling beside him as you began to clean him up, running the cloth over his stomach, down between his legs, gentle and careful.

Thanos watched you, his expression soft, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your thigh. “You don’t have to do that,” he murmured.

“I want to,” you replied, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Let me take care of you for once.”

He huffed out a small laugh, letting you do as you pleased, though his hands never stopped touching you—gliding over your arm, your waist, like he needed the reassurance that you were still here.

When you were done, you tossed the towel aside, crawling back into his embrace, peppering kisses along his jaw, his cheek, the corner of his mouth.

Thanos smirked. “You’re in a good mood.”

“I think you fucked the happiness into me,” you teased, making him chuckle before he suddenly rolled you onto your back, hovering over you, nuzzling into your neck.

You giggled, your hands slipping into his hair, tugging him up so you could kiss him properly. Slow, lazy, sweet.

After a while, you pulled back just enough to look at him, brushing his damp hair from his face. “Thank you for the room,” you said softly. “But… I think I’d rather share a bed with you, if that’s okay?”

He pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, his thumb stroking your cheek. “That’s more than okay,” he murmured. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You smiled, burying your face in his chest, and for the first time in years, you felt home.

You still had a long road ahead—staying clean, rebuilding bridges with your family, reenrolling in art school. But those were worries for another day.

For now, you stayed wrapped in Thanos’ arms, making up for lost time, showering him with the love you should have given him all along.

#choi subong smut #choi su bong #choi su bong x reader #thanos smut #thanos x reader #thanos #player 230 smut #player 230 x reader #player 230 #squid game

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mintyys-blog · 2 days ago

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PETERS SECRET— peter parker x stark! reader

WARNINGS: implied sex

Tony Stark prided himself on being an intelligent man. Genius, billionaire, philanthropist—he had a lot of titles. But clairvoyant? Yeah, not one of them.

So when he found a box of condoms in Peter Parker’s backpack while rummaging for a piece of Stark tech the kid had borrowed, he did what any reasonable father figure would do.

He sighed, put them back, and pretended he didn’t see a thing.

Peter was a good kid. He had a life outside of the Avengers, and Tony wasn’t about to metal in his dating life. The kid was responsible, respectful, and, more importantly, not some playboy running around breaking hearts.

So Tony let it go.

That was his first mistake.

His second mistake?

Not checking who, exactly, Peter was dating.

Which led to his third and worst mistake—walking into his daughter’s room one afternoon, completely unannounced, only to find her tangled under the sheets with none other than Peter freaking Parker.

For a full three seconds, there was nothing but dead silence.

Then—“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?” Tony’s voice boomed, making both of you jolt.

“OH MY GOD—DAD!” You frantically scrambled for the blanket, yanking it higher over yourself while Peter nearly fell off the bed in his attempt to escape.

“Mr. Stark—SIR—this isn’t what it looks like!” Peter blurted, eyes wide in terror.

Tony narrowed his eyes. “Oh? Because it looks like you were about two seconds away from defiling my daughter in my own house!”

“No, no, no, sir, I would never defile her!” Peter waved his hands frantically before realizing how bad that sounded. “I mean—I would—I mean, not in a bad way—I mean—”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “Peter, stop talking.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he squeaked.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply through his nostrils like he was physically holding back an aneurysm. “Parker.”

“Sir?” Peter swallowed hard.

Tony pointed a deadly finger at him. “I let it slide when I found condoms in your backpack. I told myself, ‘You know what? The kid’s growing up, he’s responsible, I don’t need to know who he’s seeing.’ But now—” He let out a humorless chuckle. “Now I know. And I do need to know. Because I am two seconds away from throwing you out the damn window.”

Peter paled. “I—um—I can survive that, but I’d really rather not.”

You groaned again. “Dad, please—”

“Please what? Let you two get back to whatever this is? Hell no!” Tony crossed his arms. “I trusted you, Parker.”

Peter looked like he wanted the Earth to swallow him whole. “I—um—I still want to be trusted?”

Tony scoffed. “Yeah? Well, I trusted Steve too, and you know what happened? He ran off with my murderous ex-friend and hid my parents’ killer from me.”

Peter blinked. “That… that seems like a separate issue, sir.”

“Oh, so now you’re giving me therapy, Spider-Boy?”

“Okay—both of you, stop,” you cut in, grabbing the blanket more securely around yourself. “Dad, I get it. You’re mad. But we’re both adults.”

“You’re nineteen.”

“And legally an adult!”

“Not in my damn house!”

Peter slowly raised a hand. “Mr. Stark, sir, if it helps, I love her.”

Tony snapped his head toward Peter so fast that Peter actually flinched.

“Love?” Tony repeated, like the word offended him on a personal level. “Kid, if you really love her, you wouldn’t be rolling around under the sheets while I’m in the house!”

You groaned. “We weren’t even—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

Peter frantically nodded. “I won’t! Sir, I swear, I respect her! More than anything!”

Tony exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before muttering, “You know what? I need a drink.” He turned, making his way toward the door before pausing.

Then, without looking back, he said, “Peter.”

Peter stiffened. “Sir?”

Tony glanced over his shoulder, his expression as serious as a heart attack. “If I ever catch you in her bed again, I will build a suit specifically designed to kill you.”

Peter audibly gulped. “Understood, sir.”

With that, Tony left, slamming the door behind him.

Silence fell over the room.

Then, Peter slowly turned to you. “So… do you think I should start writing my will?”

You sighed, collapsing back onto the pillows. “I’ll help you draft it tomorrow.”

#avengers #x reader #reader insert #x female reader #the avengers #spider man #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x female reader #spider man x you #spider man x reader #spiderman

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writingoddess1125 · 1 day ago

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Kofi Request

If you want to make request like this one check out my Kofi!

Everything Has a Price

Dark!Kurt Wagner x FemReader

⚠️ Warnings ⚠️ Loss of Virginity, Rough sex, Dirty Talk, Dubcon, Biting, Corruption?

I tried really hard! so hope you guys enjoy!

Also! Per request Pixie is added! If you've never heard of the X-Men Pixie here is a link! Very cute character!

18 + Below

"You gotta be Joking- A fucking Fairy?" Logan all but scoffed. The group seemingly on a similar page as him for once-

"Fae which is a type of fairy but different-" Pixie corrected, with some annoyance in her voice. Crossing her arms as she kicked her legs out infront of her as she looked out the window of the jet.

"Fairies are one thing- but the kind of Fae we are looking for closer to like, Magical creature demi-gods. They can do a very wide range of things and are incredibly powerful with magic. However have a bit of a.. wicked streak from what I read" She said calmly, opening up her phone as she looked over the snippet of readings from it.

"So what- We have to drop kick a Leprechaun to get some of this magic shit?-" Logan all but joked as he shook his head.

"Leprechauns are a type of Fae so- Yeah"

The entire group groaned at hearing this, Pixie throwing her hands up as it was clear she was just translating not making the rules.

"This is the dumbest shit I've heard in a long time- You're telling me we may actually have to box a damn Leprechaun.. What lala land bullshit is this?" Logan said a bit sharply, Jean now turning to look at him.

"Sorry but all the stuff we deal with, is a magical creature really the strangest thing-" Jean pointed out, Logan opening his mouth to say something but shrugging in agreement.

"Listen- I don't like this either however- There is some magic that can only come from them supposedly-" Scott grumbled- Jean looking at the page at hand, Dr. McCoy had been kind enough to give them a printout of what was asked, Seeing how it had originally been on a scroll which just felt ridiculous to everyone involved.

While everyone was arguing in the front, Kurt had been quiet-nervously ran his fingers over the Rosary with a far off look-

Ororo who was seated not far from him saw this and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder making him jump a bit as he snapped from his daze.

"Hey, if you want some more time we can take you back.." She offered, But Kurt shook his head calmly with a watery smile.

"No no.. I want to return to help" He said softly, The woman nodding softly in understanding as she took her seat again.

It had been only a short time since Kurt had come back from death- It was something that still plagued him. Everytime he closed his eyes he was back, and it made his coward desperately to God. More then ever before- Defeating his own father.. Xavier Gone which left them all vulnerable- Even Amanda leaving him as his death had been too much for her.. He didn't blame her either.

So now what remained of the team was flying to quite literally get magic to protect what remained of the students.

"Hey I don't make the rules! Besides you guys should had said something if you guys didn't want to go the magic route! We are almost there anyway!" She yelled at them all angrily.

Logan sighed at this. "Where is there anyway?"

"Telluride Colorado" Pixie said, holding her hand up to show the small tracking spell for the Fae on her palm.

This seemed to quell the group for some time. Watching as they approached their destination.

The group looking around in interest at the rather beautiful environment. Seemingly greatful as well for the large forested area that could conceal the X Jet and getting a almost vacation like view.

After landing the group was quick to exit to look around. Kurt looked around seemingly happier them the rest, overall enjoying the scenery of the place- The mountains inviting and the light snow on the ground giving the place a almost whimsical hallmark card feeling.

"Let's get going guys, We really don't want to stay out late if there really is that many fae here.." Pixie said calmly as she snapped them all from their mild sight seeing.

The group quietly agreed before Pixie started up her tracker spell once more and began to lead them through the rich hiking trail- Everyone for the most part seemingly enjoying the walk- a rare setting of peace in their Chaotic life.

Kurt let his eyes wonder around as he saw the beautiful landscape, Pausing at a very pretty looking blue flower that seemed to sway in the snow- Turning to take a closer look as he didn't know flowers could bloom in snow.

His steps beginning to go off the trail but Pixie grabbed Kurt's arm and pull him back to the group at surprising speed-

"Nope- That is a trap, Stay with us all"

"Trap? What do you mean trap?" He questioned, clearly a little dazed.

"Those are setups to lure people like you into their world- And if you go you won't be coming back" This made Kurt shiver in a bit of fear at the seriousness of her words, as well as the words lf a 'their world'.

Pixie decided here infront of them all to lay down some ground rules.

No accepting gifts

No eating their food

No telling them your real name

Don't walk off anywhere

And Never be Rude- Logan...

It was another 45 Minute walk before they saw it.

Pixie released the spell from her hand as they stood infront of a very cute looking home? Just off the beaten trail and tucked in a nice little grove of trees. Kurt looking around with a soft smile, finding the whole thing quite nice, Ororo smiling at Kurt as she saw him relaxed.

The group looked back at Pixie who gave a hesitant Nod- Logan stepped forward first clearly still unamused by this all, banging on the door rather hard as he put his hands back in his pockets.

They stood there for a few seconds, before the door unlocked and opened just a crack.

There stood possibly the prettiest lady that Kurt had ever seen- His face warming a bit the sight of her as she looked to them all.

"How can I help you all?"

She asked kindly, Flashing those pretty eyelashes at them all- seemingly catching them all off guard by how pretty she was.

"You're the Fae apparently we are looking for-" Logan stated calmly- His voice a bit more charmed then before cause of her beauty.

Ororo saw the way her eyes seemed to shimmer as she looked over all of them, Before a kind smile went over her face and she opened the door wider gesturing the group inside.

"Please come in, take a seat"

The group shuffled in, clearly used to immediate threats so a cozy little cottage home made then weirded out truthfully. Especially with how nervous Pixie seemed to be- especially at what seemed to catch all their attention, the thin tail with a puff of (Y/C/H) at the very end that seemed to sway behind her through the rather thin slip dress, paired with what seemed to be wings that showed only in the shadows- clearly a spell hiding them from view.

Being lead to the kitchen table that had seemed set for a feast, like it was waiting for their arrival.

All sitting there, they looked over the spread and then followed the Fae who walked to the stove setting a kettle with a soft hum.

"Now, Let me make some tea for you all. Now may I know who has come to my home?"

"Im Pixie, Wolverine, Cyclops, Storm, Nightcrawler and.. Phoenix" Pixie said quickly as she took the lead, Swallowing thickly as she looked to the women as she started to make the group some tea- All of them felt, Weirdly comforble? Like being in the fuzzy home of a relative, wanting to eat ones fill and take a nap infront of the fireplace.

"So interesting, Mine is (Y/N)" She said calmly, Pixie slightly wrinkling her nose.

"I take it.. That is not your true name?"

The women laughed at this as she turned to look at them all, her tail flickering slightly.

"No you would be correct, that is not my true name- However it is one ive grown fond of. Now what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

She said softly, looking to them all- however her eyes seemed to linger on Kurt a bit longer then most, Ororo catching this immediately as she glanced to her Blue friend who looked flustered.

(Y/N) made his breath catch in his throat, shifting a bit uncomforbly as he kept his gaze lowered to avoid the way the thin fabric wrapped around her hips the way her long thin tail swayed behind her in a slow pattern- oddly hypnotic?

"We are here for help.. We hear you have magic that can protect our school and hopefully give us a upper hand" Scott said, (Y/N) walking to them setting mugs in all their hands with a kind smile, Jean holding out the paper calmly- (Y/N) almost looking like she wanted to laugh in their face as she folded the page and continued her more domestic task.

"... Quite a bit You're asking for"

She said sweetly as she handed the last one to the blue skinned man, he gave a sheepish smile as he took the drink in hand- Seemingly all of them remembering Pixie's words as they all held their cups and looked at the beautiful table of food however not taking a single bite or sip- Kurt almost pouting at this.

"So, Will you help us?" Scott asked, (Y/N) looked to him and smiled.

"For a Price" Scott seemed to bristle at this slightly, Looking to Pixie first who seemed to sigh.

"Everything had a price, Im sure you know that. My magic as well" She said softly, Sipping her tea as the group shifted trying to think.

"What kind of price?" Ororo asked sitting up straigher in her seat, Logan scoffing at this point.

"Fucking Stupid shit.. Let me guess a pot of gold" He grumbled, Pixie looking to him sharply.

(Y/N) smiling at this, A heavy pressure of magic settling on them all like a silent threat- Setting her cup aside as she scanned all of them. Seeing how they all felt her magic almost wrap around them, suffocating and like it was prepared to kill them all.

"Well, Normally I'd demand something I deem as valuable.. Gold is too cheap for your guys request- However I'm generous today! I'll let you think over what you have to offer" She said suddently very cheerful as the pressure seemed to disappear as fast as it appeared. Making everyone seemingly weirded out- Looking to each other in confusion.

Jean stood up at this point, massively uncomfortable it seemed but nodded politely.

"Alright, We will find something to bring to you for the trade off.. We should go, to think about it. Thank you so much for your time"

She said quickly, Pixie following foot as the two women got everyone to almost run from the house. Kurt a bit slower as he felt something.. As (Y/N) eyes followed him as he was rushed out.

"That was... Something" Kurt mumbled, Rubbing his arm clenching his Rosary tighter.

'Return'

A voice sounded in his ear, his eyes widening as he turned back just in time to see (Y/N) Give him a sly smile as the front door closed behind him.

The group left that night back to the Jet to rest and talk about what they could offer-The group going back and forth in arguing.

Kurt however was seperate, quiet as he let his mind wonder, she wanted him back.. He could help- If she wanted to meet with him it ment he could help.

With a heavy sigh, He teleported from the Jet- Landing outside as he ventured on his own back to the Fae house.

Stepping through the snow he took a heavy breath as he raised his hand to knock but the door swung open before he could even knock.

She stood there as alluring as when he'd first seen her. Silently she waved him in with a smile, Kurt skittish as ever stepped inside as the door swung behind him.

Her hand taking his own as she lead him to the livingroom, Her hands going over his arms making him shiver slightly.

"I'm glad you returned, Now we can decide the price- You are worth more then what your friends are standing there arguing over"

Kurt's eyes widened at her words and how much her hands were on him- His face starting to flush when her hand found its way to his cheek.

"What would I be worth?"

He said sheepishly, as he looked to her. Seeing the way she held his cheek in her soft hand, thumb running at the corner of his lips.

"More then you know it seems" She hummed, circling him like prey.

"A man back from the dead-" She whispered, His shoulders stiffening at her words as she pressed her back into him. His face flushing as he felt ever detail of her body against him.

"As pure as he left, possibly more so on the return.. especially for a Neyaphem.. So unique"

A shiver went up his spine at her words, his stomach curdling at this. He'd learned of his half Heritage only after his return, not even telling his dear friends of this.

"So I wish to trade something with you for my help" She hummed, running her fingers through his dark hair.

"Are you talking about my soul?" He mumbled softly, making her chuckle as she circled him.

"No No, Never your soul.. You're innocence" Kurt jumping at hearing this as he stared at her with wide eyes, (Y/N) chuckling at this.

"You won't even realize it's gone.. Besides, How much is it really worth to you? To help your friends? Help the world? It's something people lose everyday- How different could it be for you?"

He blinked in surprise, still flushed at the offer of taking something like that from him- Especially as she placed both hands on his chest, making it so hard to focus with how he could see practically down the slip dress.

However.. It didn't seem that bad Afterall.. He had never been with anyone before and- there are worse ways to lose your virginity.

Especially losing it to someone as pretty as her-

"Just that?.. And you'll help my friends?" He asked softly, (Y/N) smiling at him and nodding.

"So, Do we have a deal?"

Her hand snaked down from his chest and sliding down his toned arms as her fingers moved just under his hand right under his Rosary waiting for it in her delicate hand.

Kurt hesitating for a second, fear gripping his heart- before slowly lowering the sacred jewelry into her palm and watching her fingers wrap around it and carefully pull away from his sight, feeling something pull away from him in his chest.

"We.. Have a Deal"

With that she leaned up and captured his lips on hers, Kurt's eyes widening at this- As the sweet taste of her lips made him melt, his hands naturally finding their way to her hips as he felt her deepen the kiss.

He stumbled back feeling the world warp slightly before the room changed, not knowing how they got to what seemed to be her bedroom- as the back of his legs hit the bed and he fell back, seeing (Y/N) staring down with a almost wicked smile. She flicked her wrist as his pants were undone and sliding down his hips- Revealing the rather large erection that was barely concealed by the plain white boxers.

(Y/N) leaning up as she crawled up his body, Kurt tail curling in on itself in worry- However the feeling of her own wrapping around his seemed to catch his attention.

"Relax~"

She purred, Kurt nodding softly as the fae pulled down his boxers- His cock springing free damn near purple with how aroused he was, The man turning his face to the side in embarrassment. (Y/N) reached forward and turned his face back to stare at her, Seating herself just before his cock as she pulled the slip dress off herself.

Poor Kurt mind went blank, Seeing her body bare to the cool room as she sat before him. Kurt almost felt like he was gonna cum just from the sight before him- (Y/N) giggling seeing how his cock began to leak pre almost immediately, Her thumb rubbing over the head of his cock softly.

"Such a sweet thing you are~"

Rising up making sure he could see her cunt in all its glory she almost teasingly rubbed her core against the head of his cock- Watching how his hips bucked up almost by instinct as he let a shaky moan leave him before (Y/N) lowered herself onto him.

A small hiss falling from Kurt's lips as he felt her sink onto him, His back arching as he felt those velvet like walls wrap around him. A wash of pleasure going threw him as he felt her settle on him fully, He swore he could see god behind her as she rolled her hips on him- His toes curling in delight as he felt her start to bounce on his cock, A new sensation starting to burn in his chest like fire as he felt her- Like she was the most addictive drug he had never taken.

The way her breast bouncing with every move of her hips almost hypnotic and driving him deeper into the pit of bliss- (Y/N) began to let breathy moans leave past her lips, Leaning back as she began to pick up the pace. A few curses leaving her as well feeling the way he seemed to hit those deepest places inside of her.

Kurt head flew back, Growling as he grabbed her hips like his life depended on it. Thrusting up into her as he felt her tighten around him a gasp leaving him as much faster then he intended bucked into her hard as he came inside of her- (Y/N) giggling at this, Clearly having expected this to not last long, He was a virgin afterall.

Kurt body seemed to still almost like a statue as (Y/N) slid off him, a look of amusement on her face as she assumed he was embarrassed and would be prepared to leave after his inexperienced self came. Besides she got her payment Afterall.

However Kurt's eyes seemed to follow her watched her as she panted only softly, Seemingly satisfied with her choice of action.. his gaze darker as he felt his stomach twist in anger and.. Something new? Like a hold on his chest was suddenly gone? And it felt.. Good?

However now pissed at this Fae.. How dare she leave him there still hard and only wanting to take this thing from him- and having the audacity to laugh at him!

And worse..

He wasn't satisfied..

He wasn't satisfied at all!

Kurt hand shot out and wraps around her ankle still on the bed and yanks her back to him- A surprised noise leaving her as she looked back at him in shock. In the dark bedroom (Y/N) could only see the wide fanged smile and those yellow eyes that seemed different from before-

His hand on her ankle is replaced by his spaded tail, Now pressing on the center of her back right between those pretty wings and yanking her tail to keep her plump ass up- A squeal leaving her lips, Her fingers digging into the already messy sheets as he had her pinned.

"Y-You already gave your payment! What the hell are you-"

She was cut off as her face was pushed into the mattress harshly only catching the glow of his eyes as his lean muscle managed to keep her put.

"I don't feel like I got a fair deal of that 'payment'-"

(Y/N) could almost hear the smile in his voice, Pursing her lips she prepared to hit him with her magic but- Nothing happened... Wiggling in shock as she tried again but felt his yank her tail harder making her whimper.

Her eyes widening as a sinking feeling settled in her chest- Maybe that innocence was far more valuable then she thought... possibly the leash that kept a Neyaphem from being free on earth.

And the leash that kept those Neyaphem abilties from coming to the surface. Nullifying her own..

"Now Now- I was only teasing little one~ L-Lets come to a new agreement" (Y/N) said with a chuckle as she heard him chuckle behind her- Feeling his cock press against her cunt.

"Now~ Why would I do that Maus?~"

He purred out, Before with a hard thrust of his hip burying into deeply into her causing a loud moan to go through her. As fast as he had buried himself into her, he pulled out as he slammed back in.

Kurt not letting up as he held her in place, and his tail wrapped around that leg of hers as he fucking the fae into the mattress- hunched over her form watching the way her ass rippled with each movement of his hips, eyes almost glazed over in primal delight. Her nails digging into the sheets tearing into them as she felt herself cum- Burning embarrassment burning through her, as the roles had been switched and she came faster then intended.

"You wanted die Unschuld? Ja? How does it feel Maus?" He laughed, feeling how she came around him- Seeing how her toes curled and legs began to quake. How she looked to dumb and blissed out with her cheek pressed into the mattress those pretty eyes that had lured him in before half lidden and edged with tears. A fanged grin in joy at having reversed the roles.

"I don't hear you!~" He grunted out, Yanking at her tail again making her moan/cry out.

"I-It feels good!" She whimpered out, Looking back at him a few hiccupping moans managing to slip out.

"Aww so sweet~ Is my pretty fairy sorry for trying to skip out on me? Leaving me wanting? Giving me the bare minimum?~" Kurt said, his voice almost a coo as he still hadn't removed his cock from her. (Y/N) nodding rapidly.

"Wunderbar!~ Now like you before, I haven't gotten my ending yet" He chuckled out, seeing the way her eyes widened as he grabbed both her legs- Sitting up to his full hight as he chuckled at the image.

Her back arched painfully as he pounded into her with a harsh and brutal pace- Seeing how (Y/N) almost scrambled to escape from the overwhelming pleasure, her tail pressing against his chest. Kurt nipping her tail hearing the noise she made, Growling in warning as he grunted.

"Why move?! You love it don't you!"

He hissed at her, Feeling how her cunt fluttered around him at the pain mixed with the pleasure.

"Y-Yes! I love it I-I fuck~! I love it!~" She sobbed out, Feeling him press into the dips of her hip as she came undone by him.

"Meine hübsche Hure~! Giving magic for cock! Who knew how desperate you are!" He made fun of her, his moving to under her raised hips as the spade of his tail rubbed over her clit- feeling her jerk as her body shook.

(Y/N) screamed out, Feeling her walls tightened around his cock once more as she came- spots going over her vision as she overstimulated and shaking from pleasure. Tears rolling down her cheeks from bliss, as she felt him pull out- The feeling of their mix of cum running down her bruised thighs.

Panting hard as the world seemed to spin and she couldn't even tell what position she was in- Till thick finger pressed into her still aching cunt. A broken moan leaving her sore throat.

"T-Too Much!~"

Kurt pressed his finger into her more pressing against that soft spongy spot of her bruised walls making her toes curl and whimper around the diget. The male smirking as he saw the ruined hole shiv around his finger.

"Aww~ Enttäuschend, I thought a all powerful fae could handle more"

He cruelly cackled, pulling his hand back as he slapped her ass hard watching how the skin started to bruise immediately before pulling her tail back up slamming his hips back into her- Hearing that loud squeal rip threw her. What could only be described as a rumbling growl leaves his throat as he grabs a fistful of her beautiful hair, yanking it back roughly as he heard her cry out in bliss- as he pulled her back flushed against his chest upright for all to see.

(Y/N) bouncing up and down with each thrust as he held her up, Eyes rolled in overstimulation she desperately tried to grab his thighs for some form of stability.

Slamming his hips up into her making sure to keep her put by her hair, feeling how her back arched into his own- those delicate wings almost crushed between her back and his chest. Broken moans staring to leave Kurt as sweat gathered on his brow- Rolling his hips up into her as he felt the coil in him build up once more as he grunted in her ear.

His fanged teeth biting down harshly on the side her neck- The rush of magical blood flooding his senses as he cum deep inside her coating those 'all powerful' walls once more, pride filling his chest as he heard the whimpering choked moans from his conquest below him- knowing she would never forget him.

Kurt pulled back, letting the flat of his tongue drag over the fresh wound as he held the fae in place. Turning her head towards him by her hair still as he kissed her, allowing her to taste herself as he dominated her mouth. Pulling back as he chuckled seeing her dazed eyes at him, shivering against his body clearly exhausted by the rather rough treatment.

"Now~ I do think you are due for your end of the bargen~"

That morning Kurt returned to the Jet, The group who had been outside clearly prepared with a plan and also wondering out loud where their blue friend was when they saw him Bamf not far from them all.

A large apple in hand that he seemed to be finishing up as he held up a cloth bag with his tail, Giving it a slight shake for them to see.

"Got what was needed and seemingly extra.. Let's head back to the Mansion"

Pixie looked up at him, feeling something was off.... terribly terribly off that made her stomach drop, Looking to the apple he had finished off and tossed in the trash. Seemingly everyone else had the off feeling about him too...

How he stood a bit straighter, his shoulders more relaxed and a more.. devilish look to his face? Like that baby sweetness he had been ripped from him.

Paired with what was the most noticable.. Rosary that had been always been in his hands was missing.

Everyone was dead silent, seemingly not willing to ask any sort of questions.

And quietly they went to the Jet, boarding as Kurt seeming to linger outside just a bit longer looking in the direction of the cottage before heading in.

Taking his seat Kurt leaned back, seemingly tired as he drapped his arm over his eyes to cover the light of the Jet, paired with a feeling of two knots growing at the front of his head that made his head hurt and throb.

"Hey Kurt.."

He lifted his arm, almost feeling a peg of annoyance as he followed the direction of the voice. Ororo seated not far from him as she looked to him with a peg of concern.

"What.. did you give to her?"

Kurt pausing as his tail flicked next to him a bit sharply enough to cut the air, as a fanged smile went over his lips- Looking at Ororo who felt a shiver go down her spine at the smile that greeted her.

"Nothing of importance anymore"

#x reader #kurt wagner x you #kurt wagner smut #kurt wagner x #kurt wagner x reader #kurt wagner #nightcrawler x you #nightcrawler x reader #nightcrawler smut #xmen nightcrawler #nightcrawler #xmen #xmen smut #x men x reader #x men smut #writinggoddess

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hereternalsins · 18 hours ago

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One day, I won't love you anymore.

- rose ( herdivinemuse via instagram)

Five years of memories. Two years of silence. And now, three months of trying to rebuild what was broken, only to find that some cracks run deeper than time can heal.

She watches him across their favorite café—the same one where they used to spend Sunday mornings years ago. His coffee order hasn't changed: black, no sugar. But something else has. The way he holds himself, perhaps, or the careful distance in his eyes even when he smiles.

"Do you know?" she begins, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup. "In these five years, you've always been perfect and irreplaceable in my heart. But if we continue like this, I feel that... one day, I won't love you anymore."

The words hang between them like frost on a window pane—beautiful in their honesty, terrible in their implications. She watches them land, sees him flinch slightly, the way he always does when truth cuts too close to bone.

They'd thought it would be easier the second time around. After all, they knew each other's stories, could map each other's scars. The muscle memory of loving each other remained intact through those two years apart—the way he still reaches to brush her hair back when she's tired, how she automatically orders extra pickles for his burgers.

But with the familiar rhythms came the old ghosts. His tendency to retreat into silence when troubled. Her habit of expecting him to read her mind. The same misunderstandings that drove them apart the first time now hover at the edges of their reconciliation, waiting to reclaim their territory.

They'd spent those two years apart growing, changing, becoming better versions of themselves. She'd learned to voice her needs instead of hoping they'd be noticed. He'd worked on expressing his emotions instead of bottling them up. But somehow, together, they keep slipping back into their old roles—like actors who know their lines too well to play them differently.

"I still find your coffee cups in my apartment," he says quietly. "From before. I never could bring myself to throw them away."

She nods, understanding the weight of small things kept. She too has a box of memories she couldn't discard—movie tickets, dried flowers, photographs where their smiles still held certainty.

"Maybe that's our problem," she replies. "We're trying to fit new people into an old story."

The truth is, loving him has never been the problem. It's the easiest thing she's ever done, as natural as breathing. But loving someone and being able to build a life with them are different things. The past two years taught her that. They both learned it, separately, in their own ways.

"I don't want to lose you again," he says, reaching across the table. His fingers stop just short of hers, a gesture that encompasses everything wrong with their situation—always almost touching, almost understanding, almost getting it right.

"We're not the same people who fell in love five years ago," she tells him. "And we're not the same people who broke up two years ago either. Maybe we need to stop trying to be."

The afternoon light slants through the café windows, casting long shadows across their table. Outside, the city moves in its endless rhythm, indifferent to the small apocalypse happening over cooling coffee cups.

"Then who are we?" he asks, and there's something like hope in his voice—fragile but present.

She looks at him, really looks at him, seeing both the man she fell in love with and the stranger he's become. "Maybe that's what we need to find out," she says. "Not who we were, or who we think we should be, but who we are now."

The silence that follows feels different from their usual ones—not heavy with unspoken words, but open, waiting. Like a blank page rather than a closed book.

"I meant what I said," she continues softly. "You've been perfect and irreplaceable in my heart. But perfect isn't what I need anymore. I need real. I need now. I need us to stop haunting each other with who we used to be."

He nods slowly, and for the first time in months, his smile reaches his eyes. "Then maybe we should start over," he suggests. "Not from five years ago, or from two years ago, but from right here."

She feels something shift in her chest—not the familiar ache of old love, but something newer, something that tastes like possibility. "Hi," she says, extending her hand across the table. "I'm still learning who I am. Would you like to figure it out together?"

This time, when he reaches for her hand, he doesn't stop short.

#dark academia #dark academia quotes #poetry #quotes #love quotes #sad quotes #light academia #literature #life quotes

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clawbehavior · 2 years ago

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yes!! @pepi-nillo all these tagged ideas are brilliant. we could go SO hard on the beauty & the beast vibes of TDJ with a protective/petulant/pissed off house causing havoc like a house elf when jung sunah comes for dinner. the kettle has to chase down sunah's rogue teacup. sunah puts down her fork and knife to speak. when she picks them up again, she's somehow holding two spoons. the wine in her glass tastes like artificial juice even though she can see gaon enjoying his wine (as well as yohan's gaze snagging on gaon's reddened lips).

and the best part is, nobody says anything about all the weird shit. jung sunah because she assumes from gaon's cool demeanor that he doesn't know, so she wants to hoard the secret which ties her to yohan. gaon because he's doing his best to host while managing an outright homidical house (which btw yohan is not helping with). and the kangs are aggravating the situation.

we could have so much fun with this one scene. your idea about coins in pockets talking to each other is clever and generative. think of aaaaaalll the inanimate things in the house. now think of them teaming up to give sunah hell in alignment with their specific functions.

in my version, gaon doesn't know the house is alive. things happen to him and around him, yes, but not in an unexplainable fashion. he's a person attuned to the needs of everything around him, which is why he can read the kangs' starvation when their stand in mother couldn't. the house having a character doesn't seem strange. even if his bedroom doorknob always jams riiiiight he argues with yohan. but he's angry, so it makes sense that he's too agitated to figure out the antique knobs. in fact, he's found that if he takes deep calming breaths while leaning his forehead against the door, it unlocks by itself sometimes. and so on.

have a smattering thoughts around the gothic characteristics of the mansion in TDJ. what if we took it a step further with a fic where the mansion is sentient?

it comes alive bc the anguish of the soul in the basement is so powerful. it survives with the goal of protecting yohan. (with possible implications for kang jisang's death?). but because it's a house and not a person (capable of thought and therefore change), it doesn't do exactly what its inhabitants want.

yohan and elijah know that the house is alive. so they stare at each other in surprise when AI Butler calls gaon 'juin-nim' at breakfast. this is the same house which threw jung sunah out the window when she was a child

other thoughts:

+ the house as a third character during the major TDJ scenes: in the study when yohan is arrested; stopping gaon from leaving through locking the doors and the staircase rail wrapping around his hand until yohan forces it to let gaon go; opening the door to the basement for a curious gaon.

+ the house is strongly influenced by yohan's emotions, which because they're complex and seemingly contradictory to everyone but himself, means it acts unpredictably. it's angry when gaon leaves because that's how yohan feels, but it lets jung sunah in after k's death since yohan brought her over for dinner previously

+ gaon gardening at the house and talking to it because he recognizes that it has a personality, the same way his plants do. the house starts to like him, like a stray cat would

+ like mike flanagan's 'haunting of bly manor', TDJ mansion hungers and has a 'stomach'

- it either loses power or actively releases its inhabitants as they make a family/are no longer isolated from the world/find love through gaon

putting these ideas out there so it lives outside my brain until i am interested in writing the fic

#copying op's notes below:#oh i love these kind of tropes #i'm so interested about inanimate stuff becoming sentient #like i wonder what coins would say if they could talk #what houses and public spaces have seen #a sentient mansion is so good i just love the mental image of gaon treating the mansion as he treats his plants #i'm so obsessed with this idea omg #and it just defenestating jung sunah it's the cherry on top #i think that means she knows it's sentient right? she's probably obsessed with getting it to like her #can you imagine the difference in how the mansion treated her vs everyone in that one dinner scene #yohan and gaon having to explain to the mansion that yes it has to play nice with her it's part of the plan #no you can throw her out of the window again #maybe later #am writing #the devil judge fic idea #my ficlet #tdj imagine

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selfinflictedgunshotwound · 5 months ago

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not my online friend trying to have the "not all zionists" conversation with me rn

#we've talked about palestine before and she always takes the most centrist version of israel's side she possibly can lmao #i try very hard to never discuss politics with her but she is literally always the one bringing it up and it throws all my affection for he #out the window. like babe.... i'm jewish... you're not.... why are we even having this conversation besides you trying to prove smth #like an informal conversation is not the place for a fucking political debate and if you're not gonna recognize my pov #why am i even still friends with you.#it does make me genuinely sad but if i have to have this conversation again i may well and truly just block her #like she apparently has another jewish friend who seems to side heavily with zionist values (lol) but still acts like a centrist #so ik that's where she's getting the majority of her viewpoints from and it's so fucking grating like you're talking to another jew rn #why would i ever want to support nationalism of any kind when that's what lead to the fucking holocaust #why would you ever be lenient on a group of people who are actively commiting a genocide #i seriously just. like it makes me sick to my stomach that i even have someone in my life who doesn't get it #and i don't even know what to say like my 'i don't wanna be mean to a friend' shit is taking over #especially when she's not the kind of person i can just say anything to. we're not close like that unfortunately #so i've just been in limbo hoping she isn't gonna talk about it but i'm gonna have to put aside our friendship if she does this again #bc i'm not gonna be friends with someone who outright doesn't listen to me saying that my own people commiting a genocide hurts me #just because she wants to be one of those 'well this 'conflict' shouldn't be happening bc it's hurting innocent people :('#this is why i hate having any convos about this with people who haven't been politically engaged with palestine before the end of last yr #like my brother also doesn't fully get the scope of it but at least HE knows that israel (and even the concept of it) is evil and racist #sigh.

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levil0vesyou · 1 year ago

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Having a post get popular enough to be independently reblogged by someone you follow but aren't mutuals with is. Wild

#yes it was the sex poll obvs #given the person is a minor i'm very glad they picked answer one lmao #like i do think minors in general are allowed to want and even have sex (with each other obvs) but when it's a minor i personally follow it #would just make me feel pretty weird lmao. like on a personal level ya feel? i mean when u reach an even closer level it becomes not weird #again like my dear friend ness (17yo) who afaik doesn't actually HAVE any sex but occasionally wants to and i support her hot girl summer.#but as stated this person barely knows i exist i just follow his blog (i used they earlier but this was incorrect but tumblr won't let me e #edit the tag 😔) and he's 16yo so seeing him talk about wanting and/or having sex would have been. uncomfortable. like obvs he'd be allowed #to because my personal discomfort is no indication of morality but you get it. like if my big little cousin (she's 15 now by god the years #don't stop coming) were to talk about sex and stuff to me or within earshot i would ummm. throw myself out the window? but like i'd still t #try to be supportive and if push comes to shove then yes i would give her condoms 😔 cuz like if a minor wants sex i will not be able to sto #stop them lmao but i can at least try and make it somewhat safe y'know #actually i remembered i have literally given a 15yo a condom before lmao she's prolly over 20 now but like as the adult dormmate it was alm #almost like a responsibility y'know like what do you want me to DO?? let her get pregnant?? anyway enough tangent lmao #btw all this is also why in the poll i included 'too young' but didn't specify an age cuz that's individual y'know. some people are p late #bloomers (i was one) while others choose to have consensual sex by 14 y'know. not something i like to think about but that doesn't mean it #won't happen ya feel. i mean what am i the american education system? lmao. so some ppl have interpreted being 17 as too young but there's #also folks like this who clearly consider 16 old enough and that's defo ppl's good right. and again i usually don't mind just the fact that #he in particular is someone i already knew made it uncomfy. but anyway yea back on topic it's very interesting in general when your post #gets big enough to independently make it to ur dash thru a non mutual lmao. love the hellsite honestly where else amirite #personal #mine #ok to rb ig #like the actual body of the post anyway. i'd be pretty uncomfy if said person saw my tags on this cuz y'know it's kind vagueing even if it'#not negative but anyway. anyway #*kinda

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maekarlargenaturals · 4 days ago

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The targs aren’t even my favorite house despite having the most OC’s for it. It’s just like… the funniest one to choose from.

#the other houses OC’s I have are so normal. they’re just big chilling.#Arlenna lived through RR’s rebellion as a teenage girl and both her betrothed died.#the third post rebellion was some old man who had a heart attack and died in the sept as they said their vows #thus everyone thinks she’s cursed and she’s Big Chilling.#war of the 5 kings is going on and she does not give a single fuck #3 of my 4 great Bastard OC’s have completely unremarkable lives #one spends the rest of her life as a handmaid to her legitimate Celtigar first cousin #the other just ignores everything Aegor tries to do and chills at the brackens ancestral home. all around nobody #it’s just the targets that I get to beat with a hammer on what their fates are #Elaena lives and dies suffering from the trauma of maegor as a half brother.#Rhaella completely shuts herself off from society after her sister dies and fucks off to essos mid dance #poor doomed Blackfyre shuts herself willingly in the maidenvault her mother spent her entire life escaping bc of the shame #Aenerys and Viserra live happy lives and then. Summerhall.#because the inherent tragedy of D&E is knowing exactly how that era ends. in flames.#Aenerys kills herself post Summerhall after most of her family including multiple children die. just walks into the ocean #Viserra throws herself out of The Famous Red Keep Suicide Window after she receives word abt Aenerys #and Rhaegelle is the inverse of Aenerys and Viserra where instead of happy and healthy normal targ twins #Rhaegelle suffers bc of Rhaegar’s very existence and for the sin of not being a son #the realm suffers and her mother suffers. all because she’s a girl and not just that #she has horrible prophetic dreams that Literally No One but Rhaegar listens to #but he gets Weird about it so she stops telling him and willingly lets him die and their family die just to have an end to things #10/10 do recommend making targs throughout the ages because you can smash them with absolutely wild shit #text.exe #valyrian.exe #also hilariously. my fave house is either Tully/tyrell/Crakehall #targs would be at like. 6th overall.#but again! the amount of OC’s doesn’t align with that ANFJSJG

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7s3ven · 2 months ago

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FILE LOADING. TF 141 x hacker! Reader, pt 1

( full master list) (intro to this series)

IN WHICH… you needed a way to lessen your prison sentence and TF 141 needed an efficient hacker… as well as someone to spoil.

Notes: hacker! Reader, reader has a criminal background, reader has piercings, tattoos + tooth gems

A/N: first cod series finally lol… please like this post guys, I finished it right after I slipped while practising a taekwondo kick and body slammed into the tiled floor 😭.

—

The air inside your prison cell was muggy and overall unpleasant, causing beads of sweat to form on your forehead as you fanned your face.

The pathetic excuse for a window was not helping, letting only a small amount of oxygen enter the tiny room.

In all honesty, you weren’t treated as badly as other prisoners. A coworker of yours had pulled some strings the moment you were arrested, which meant you got better food and some perks.

But as always, life in jail still sucked.

You were too busy staring at the blank wall in front of you to notice the metal door keeping you locked up was now creaking open.

“Get up.” The warden harshly nudged your shoulder, barely giving you a moment to compose yourself. Your hands were yanked behind your back, the cool metal handcuffs digging painfully into your soft skin.

Your jaw clenched as you were dragged down the dimly lit hallway. You knew better than to ask questions as they would not be answered. All you could do was walk in the direction the warden shoved you in.

The breeze from the well-ventilated interrogation room was the first thing to hit you as you entered. You arched an eyebrow at the woman sitting at the table, her hands gracefully clasped together.

“And you are?” You didn’t recognise her as you slumped into the seat across from her, purposely sending the warden a biting glare.

“I’m Kate Laswell, a CIA operative.” She didn’t waste time before she spoke, leaning forward to catch your attention.

Your lip peeled back into a sneer, “The worst kind of people.”

She ignored your jab. “I’ve come here to give you an offer. You see, SAS is in need of a hacker and I’m told you’re the best fit for the job.” You watch as she opens a slim folder, spreading out the images for your careful gaze to study. They’re printouts of your exploits, files nobody was supposed to obtain. You had deleted your digital footprint after hacking databases, you were sure of it.

“You’re good. Too good to waste in a cell." You hear her softly sigh.

“I did what I did. The justice system isn’t so flattered by my ability to retrieve their sensitive information. Plus, I did murder someone… a few people, actually. So in all honesty, this isn’t an unfair punishment.” You leaned back in the uncomfortable chair, crossing one leg over the other.

“We are well aware of your long record.” Laswell sends you a pointed look. You merely grin, your canine teeth glinting in the light.

“Did you see my arson report?” Your lips spread into a grin, “Because that’s the best one. Set an ex-boyfriend’s car on fire and it just lit up. It was great. You should read it sometime.”

Laswell cleared her throat, reminding you of the situation at hand. “As I was saying, I can lift your jail sentence with a click of my fingers but only if you agree to work for me.”

“Thought I was working for SAS.” You interrupted.

“You’ll work for an elite team called Task Force 141… but you’ll answer to me. I give you the orders.”

“And the catch of this job?”

Laswell’s lips curve into a faint smile. “This is not a job offer, Miss L/N, it is a uniquely presented opportunity. You will get no pay for your services. The reward it reaps, however, is greater.”

You paused for a second. What could possibly be better than money?

“Freedom.” As if reading your mind, Laswell spoke again. “If you do this, you’ll be free before next year. This is possibly your only shot at freedom, do not throw it away. If you stay locked up here, you’ll only rot while the world keeps spinning.”

Now she had your attention. “You must be desperate if you wanna hire me.” A chuckle slipped past your lips but it was mainly to ease the awkward tension that had settled. “What would the job include?” You tilted your head, subtly shifting forward to hint your interest.

“You’ll be working alongside Task Force 141, giving them intel on possible threats and making their jobs easier by gaining access to classified information. I hear you don’t work well with other people but really, what choice do you have?”

Her words prodded at you and the teasing smile on her face aggravated you but she was right. You had no other choice.

The room was silent as you weighed out your choices. The walls seemed to close in on you, a stark difference to the freedom you were promised mere moments ago.

“So I risk my life for this so-called elite team… and in return I get some vague promises of freedom? Smells like bullshit. You lot will probably stab me in the back.” You scoffed.

“You’ve already painted a bright red target on your back. It’s only a matter of time before people realise you’re worth more dead than alive. With us, you’ll have protection. And a purpose.”

Laswell stood up, pushing her chair back with deliberate calmness. The legs scraped against the concrete floor as she did so. “Make no mistake, L/N, people like you don’t simply disappear. Someone will come for you… someone who wants your head on a stick.” Her words hung heavily in the air.

There was a flicker of fear in your eyes and like a feral predator, she ate it up.

“Okay.” You slowly murmured. She had convinced her with her carefully concealed threats. “I’ll do it.”

Laswell smirks. "Good. Pack your things. Your new team will be picking you up in an hour.”

—

The loud roar of the helicopter blades filled the air as you stepped onto the tarmac, shielding your eyes against the bright sun. You rubbed your aching wrists, clicking your tongue at the bruises the tight handcuffs had left.

A few soldiers are waiting for you into the chopper, their silhouettes barely visible through the dark tinted windows.

“Couldn’t just send a car?” You grumbled as you climbed into the helicopter. Laswell followed close behind, unbothered and seemingly used to such a commotion.

“Always for the theatrics, John.” She jokes with the man sitting across from her, eyes crinkling as she grins.

You glance at the man’s name tag, reading Captain John Price. He’s handsome… for a man his age. In a ruggish and rough sort of way. A cloud of smoke slips past his lips as he calmly puffs on a cigar, not at all caring how the chopper unsteadily tilts to the side.

“This the hacker? That pretty ‘lil lass over there?” A voice, thick with a Scottish accent, cuts through the silence. Your eyes dart to stare at the burly man with a Mohawk as he looks you up and down. “Thought the hacker was a bloke. Ain’t complainin’ though.”

You stiffen at the comment, running your tongue over your top row of teeth. It unintentionally gives him a view of your shiny tooth gems. “Thought you lot were an elite crew. Y’all don’t fact check?” You lean back into the cushioned seat. It’s surprisingly comfortable, much better than the stone-hard mattress back in your cell.

The Scot laughs, unbothered. “She’s got bite. I like ‘er. Name’s John McTavish but most call me Jonny. You can call me Soap if ya want.”

You sarcastically laugh. “Soap? What kind of muppet name is that? You had a reputation for eating soap as a kid?”

Soap’s eyes light up, not what you were expecting with your insult. “Ay! The cap’n said the same thing! Called me a muppet too!”

“You still are.” Someone chimes in from the front. You didn’t even realize there were two more people squeezed in to the seats in front of the controls.

The one in the passenger seat turns around, smiling. With his soft brown eyes and gentle features, you can’t help but find him pretty.

“Y/N L/N, right? Nice to meet you. I’m Kyle Garrick.” His voice has a slight British accent to it. “This is Ghost next to me.” He jabs a thumb at the man wearing a skull mask who’s doing a poor job at steering the helicopter.

“Ghost?” You question, “What sort of name is that?”

“Simon Riley.” Ghost grunts out. His British accent is somewhat aggressive, evident in every syllable he barks out.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. For some reason, he annoys you. It’s more like the way he’s looking at you through the eye-level mirror.

The chopper shakes again. You watch as Kyle grasps his seat, his grip so tight it almost cracks the delicate leather. “Sorry.” Simon gruffly replies.

You raise an eyebrow, leaning forward. “What’s up with him?” You nod your head in Kyle’s direction.

“Fell out the bloody helicopter when Ghost was last flying.” Kyle replies. You almost laugh. It’s not something that should be amusing but your lips quirk into a small grin.

“So… does this whole arrangement cover my food and accommodation?” You question, suddenly aware of how hungry you are. Laswell slips out a small folder, handing it to you.

“Your accomodation will be one of our safe houses twenty minutes away from base. We considered having you live on the base itself but socialising isn’t part of your job. You’ll be living with the Task Force to ensure you don’t run. And all your costs will be covered. You will be given an allowance for your own expenses such as impulsive purchases.”

“Thought you said I got no money.”

“Once you have completed what is necessary, you will no longer have access to the allowance.” Laswell clarifies.

“And I walk free.”

Laswell nods, “Then you are free to go. If needed, CIA will pay to transfer you to another country so you can start anew. Most do not get second chances, L/N, so be careful.”

You lick your cracked lips, aimlessly playing with the hem of your oversized shirt. Maybe you could go to Europe; it had been a little dream of yours as a kid.

“Should go to Scotland, lass.” Jonny pipes up above the loud helicopter blades.

“London’s better.” Simon retorts, “Can actually understand what they’re saying.”

“What about Korea?” Kyle butts in.

“You aren’t even Korean.” Jonny argues back, lightly scoffing.

“Yeah, but I wanna go. Is that a crime, Soap?”

Their pointless bickering was comforting in a way. You had spent the last few years of your life locked away, isolated most of the time and alone. It was nice listening to people talk again.

Simon landed the helicopter with surprising grace, being the first to unbuckle his seatbelt and jump out. Kyle was next. Laswell unlocked the sliding door, stepping aside to allow you to slip past first.

You merely stared at her before muttering a tense thanks.

“Watch your step.” Kyle warned you as he held out a hand to steady you.

“It’s literally three feet. I can manage.” You snap back, effortlessly stepping out of the chopper. Jonny lightly chuckled while Kyle slowly withdrew.

“Feisty.” Kyle muttered.

You stared up at the safe house, tilting your head. “It’s… cute.” You hummed. It was a cottage, not the first thing you expected as a safe house.

“Were the pink roses your idea, Riley?” You joked, pointing at the pretty flowers.

He grunts, a sound you’ve suddenly become familiar with. “I prefer Ghost.” He corrects you.

You shrug. “Used to call inmates by their last name. Helped me ignore them when they tried hitting on me in the early years of prison.” You stepped forward onto the stone cobble path, admiring it.

“A small cottage… bet this is a military dream, huh?” You kicked a pebble.

“It is, actually.” Jonny pipes up, “It’s every man’s dream to retire in a cute little house with a pretty lass.”

You lightly scoffed, “I ain’t here to play work wife, McTavish. Can’t even cook.”

“Thank goodness we have Gaz then.” Jonny retorts, “Bloke should be a chef if this career doesn’t work out.”

You take a moment to study the house and its surroundings while the others file through the door. There’s a small white Pickett fence wrapped around the land, bright green blades of grass wrapping around the neatly painted wood.

The cottage is clearly old but well renovated. Rows of vines adorn the side, a surprisingly aesthetic sight. There’s a garden filled with sweetly smelling flowers and the same pink roses sitting at your feet are also perched on top of the porch.

The windows are the favourite aspect of yours. They decorate the stone walls, a sharp gothic detail to them.

It’s almost too pretty for a criminal like you.

“You comin’ in?” It’s Kyle who notices your absence, peeking his head past the doorway. For a moment, he thought you had made a run for it but he was relieved to find you standing among the garden.

You clear your throat, pulling at the bottom of your shirt. “Yeah.” You step onto the rickety porch, the wood creaking under your weight.

The interior of the house is so different from your tiny cell. Walking past the door almost feels like walking into an entirely new life.

Jonny is scavenging through the fridge, pulling out a tall bottle of beer. “Want some?” He offers it to you.

“I can’t drink, warden’s orders.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“It’s just a beer, can’t hurt ya. ‘Sides, you ain’t in jail no more.” Jonny insists, shaking the bottle. It’s tempting but on instinct, you glance at Laswell.

She’s sitting beside Price, talking to him in a hushed tone and going over a file, presumably one containing details about you.

“I ain’t stopping you from drinking, kid.” Laswell says, feeling your stare on her face.

Hesitantly, you snatch the bottle from Jonny, popping the lid open with practised precision. You haven’t tasted beer, or any other alcohol for that matter, in a long time. You’ve never liked beer… but the first burning sip feels heavenly.

“You got any vodka?” You ask, glancing into the top cupboards.

“Do we look Russian? Nah, can barely drink that shit straight.” Jonny’s face scrunches up at the thought.

“Bourbon then.” Your words catch Simon’s attention.

Jonny grins as he reaches up, grasping a fancy-looking bottle. “Only other person here who likes bourbon is the LT. Guess he isn’t alone anymore.” He pours you a glass, handing it to you in exchange for your bottle of beer.

“Don’t understand how you lot can stand beer. Too bitter for my liking.” You mutter, pacing around the room.

You hear Simon quietly hum in agreement. “Finally someone smart.”

COD TAGLIST (comment to be added/removed): @jenepleurepasbaby @rm25711 @talia-the-gemini @margaaaa30 @mixplara @alex—awesome—22

@lunamoonbby @little-b33 @ghostswife-8 @tea-drinking-nerd @certainlygay @lucienofthelakes @supaturtl3 @pr3ttypupp4 @royalz658 @whoreforfictionalmen18 @ashy-akuma @1bucky-barnes-wife1 @chloepluto1306 @voguiing @eyeless-kun @joshwashingtonmybeloved @fuzzyducky3 @childishname @angel-bugz @kee-0-kee @undercover-smutlover @10honeybee01 @kat247 @munson24 @sweetlittleblackrose @babybimbo777 @wfinniegenx @galactict3a @hyperfixatedcatlover @creepumiku @yoontoons @moraxnomora @1ckyfairy @lunerbitch @tizylish

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bi-writes · 6 months ago

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Since he won't have MOB lift a finger in their home and given how he reacted when she came out in her lingerie, I like to imagine Simon gets a little flustered whenever he's doing the laundry and he's got to sort out her underwear from the rest of the clothes

mail-order bride

it's quiet this afternoon. it's cold outside again (what a surprise), and there's rain pattering gently against the windows. there's a stew in the oven, but it still needs a few hours to get that perfect tender texture. nevertheless, the house is filled with a warm smell, something hearty and wonderful.

something like home.

when simon walks into the living room, he sees you there. you're curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, head resting on a throw pillow as you watch a movie. there's a mug of tea in front of you, steam rising from it, and simon comes over to greet you.

you turn your head, looking up at him towering over you, and you smile up at him as you snuggle a little further into the pillow. you hold out your hand for him.

"wanna watch with me?" you ask, and he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. he takes your hand anyways, and you swallow hard as he presses your knuckles to his lips, giving them a light kiss before letting go.

"doin' the laundry. can't find yours."

you go to sit up, but simon frowns, visibly upset that you're moving from your spot.

"don't get up," he tells you, tucking the blanket back over you. "just tell me where it is."

you bite your lip.

"uhm...it's in the closet. there's...a bag there."

simon hums, thumbing over your jaw before making his way into the bedroom. he flicks the light on in the closet, moving hangers around until he spots a canvas bag on the floor there, stuffed to the brim with your dirty clothes. he picks it up, cursing a little from how heavy it is, and he carries it with him to the washroom. when he passes the living room, he stops for a moment.

"oi," he calls out to you, and you turn your head, smiling at him, and he points to the bag. "you put y'r clothes with mine from now on, yeah?"

you tuck your face behind the blanket a little more to hide your growing smile. you nod anyways, and he huffs a little before continuing. he puts his basket of laundry on top of the dryer, opening the lid of the washer, and he lifts your little bag up next to the basket. after he sets it down, he steps back when the bag starts to move.

"oi! wot the fuck?!"

at the shout, you scramble off the couch, hurrying towards where he is.

"what? what?! what happened?"

"bag's fuckin' movin'!" simon huffs, but when you try to come further into the room, simon puts a hand on your chest gently, pushing you backwards and behind him. he blocks you completely with his body, and you still can barely see as you stand on your toes and try and look over his shoulder.

"simon--" you sigh. "simon! wait--let me see!"

"fuck no," he snarls, "stay there."

he pushes the bag over so that it tips over, falling onto its side. your clothes tumble out, spilling onto the dryer and onto the floor, and simon reaches around him and wraps one big hand around your waist protectively to hold you back as he cranes his neck to see.

"what is it? simon!" you hiss, and simon holds his breath as the bag continues to move. there's a wiggle of a shape under the canvas before a familiar little head pokes itself out from the opening, one of your shirt sleeves framing their face and hiding their ears.

simon groans audibly, relaxing immediately.

"fuckin' hell," he mutters, letting you push him aside, and you hold onto his bicep as you try and hide your laugh. the cat wriggles its way through your shirt sleeve before shaking, fluffing her hair back up before she takes a seat on the edge of the dryer lid and starts to lick her little paw. "'ow did it fuckin' breathe in there, eh?"

you step past him and reach for her, picking her up off the dryer and tucking her into the crook of your arm. she lays her little head on your arm, blinking slowly up at you, and you tap her nose gently before looking back and up at simon.

"sorry she scared you, big man," you giggle, and he scrunches his nose a bit as he glares at the cat.

"wasn't scared," he huffs, and he brings you closer with a hand on your jaw, drawing you nearer. he runs his tongue over his teeth, looking down at you, and you swear his gaze lingers on your lips for just a second too long. "got precious cargo in m'house. couldn't let anythin' happen ta 'er."

you blink up at him, opening your mouth to say something, but you sputter, laughing, looking away from him. you shrug him off with a roll of your eyes, but you look back at him just as you're about to turn the corner and leave. he's already back to picking up your clothes that have fallen onto the floor, and you nearly choke when he's got one big hand wrapped around bright red lace.

he holds up the edges of it for a moment to inspect it, and he swallows when he realizes it's a pair of your panties.

your favorite panties.

when he looks over his shoulder, your eyes lock, and you squeak as you hide behind the doorway, shutting your eyes as you cringe at yourself for reacting so silly.

for fuck's sake, it's your husband--husbands wash their wives undergarments, right?

you poke your head back into the doorway, just enough for your eyes to get simon in view again. he's putting the rest of the clothes in the washer, putting a small amount of soap into it before shutting the top and putting the water on cold. you hide again when he turns around, flattening your back against the wall, and when he comes out, he's got a hint of a smirk on his face, knowing, because he knows he's caught you.

when he passes by you, you go half-lidded and slack when his hand finds your face again, thumb against your bottom lip. his eyes are so dark; beautiful, pupils blown wide, a magnet that draws you closer, up onto your toes until his thumb is nearly touching your tongue and your lips are nearly brushing against his.

simon takes your breath away when he leaves. you follow him hoping to get it back.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #order up

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laligraves · 9 months ago

Text

morning run

joel miller x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~ 2.8k summary: Joel overhears your argument with the neighbor. masterlist | AO3

warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious, don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), NSFW, pre/no outbreak, some proofreading, Joel is a tall and very strong man, older man/college-aged reader, Joel lives in a wealthy neighborhood with an HOA (homeowners association), no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, somewhat public setting, breeding kink (kinda), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

“These HOA people are vultures,” your sister mutters.

You look up from your laptop and watch out the window as the committee leaves on their golf cart, most likely on their way to torment another house on the block.

“Is it that big of a deal that my flower garden has the wrong color of roses?”

“There’s a wrong color of roses?” you ask in confusion.

“Yes! The president of the HOA, Susan,” you sister spits out in disdain, “only wants light pink roses on this block.”

She slams the written warning on the entrance table and storms off into the kitchen. “I’m not sure how her husband stands her. I guess that’s why he spends so much time at the golf course.”

You follow her into the kitchen, partly because you want a break from your assignments and also because you want to hear more gossip about her new neighborhood.

“You know she made me pay a fine because my car was left on the driveway after hours? It’s my driveway!”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Suddenly, I’m not so jealous about your new place.”

She throws a sponge at your head.

“Why don’t you just say no?” you ask as you narrowly dodge the sponge.

“I’ve tried so hard to be nice to everyone here. But all Susan does is turn people against me. Everytime I walk outside to grab the mail or go to work, people give me dirty looks!”

You don’t like seeing your sister like this. It’s her home. One she worked very hard to buy in this wealthy neighborhood. No one has the right to make her feel like an outsider. So you develop a plan.

You find out Susan’s schedule fairly easily. Every morning at 8 a.m. she walks her husband to his car and kisses him goodbye before he leaves for work. She then walks back inside for her notebook and pen to then walk around the neighborhood.

She stops at every house to ensure it fits her standards and if they don’t, she leaves a written warning on the front door. During the weekends, she and her gang of friends drive around on a golf cart to give out even more citations.

So at exactly 7:55 A.M., you make your way to her house. You’re careful in the outfit you chose this morning: a tight sports bra and running shorts. She, and most importantly her husband, are definitely going to notice you.

You slow down as you round the corner, already seeing her husband place his briefcase in the backseat of his beamer. She walks right behind him with a lunch pail and kisses his cheek. You shout out a good morning and watch as they both turn to look at you.

Her right eye immediately begins to twitch and she plasters on a fake smile. His eyes do an appreciative sweep of your body as he walks to the end of the driveway.

“Good morning! Susan,” he says turning to his wife, “why didn’t you tell me we had a new neighbor?”

He grasps your hand and gives it a firm shake. His thumb caresses the back of your hand as he slowly lets go. Susan finally reaches the both of you and grabs onto her husband's arm to pull him away.

You give him a sweet smile, pushing your chest out in a calculated move so he has no choice but to look.

“I’m just visiting my sister over on Ocean Avenue. The neighborhood is so nice I thought it would be perfect for my morning runs.”

“I agree, you can run anytime you want–”

“Sweetie,” Susan interrupts in a high-pitched voice, “you’re going to be late.”

He asks for your name and what you’re studying in college, then shakes your hand again while Susan seethes next to the driver’s side door. He drives off, promising a tour of the country club later that day. You're left standing alone with Susan, just as you wanted.

“Look here, young lady,” she snarls, “this is a neighborhood full of families. Not some frat house. We do not allow blatant displays of–of–well this ,” she says as she motions to your workout attire. “I am going to write your sister a citation for this disrespectful action.”

“Well, that does make me sad. I guess I’ll have to ask your husband to cheer me up later when I visit him.”

Her face turns beet red and you wonder briefly if steam will come out of her ears. “What did you just say?”

“Your husband was so nice in inviting me to the country club, how can I say no? I really need to work on my swing–”

“You stay away from my husband,” she whispers, pointing a finger at your face, “or I will find a way to run your sister out of this neighborhood.”

“Leave my sister alone,” you say as you walk right up to her and push her finger out of the way, “or I’ll fuck your husband.”

Susan gasps, dramatically placing a hand over her mouth.

“I’ll make sure he finishes inside me, too. Maybe give him a baby.”

With that, you continue your jog down the sidewalk. You don’t notice Susan’s neighbor, who stands by his gate and watches you run off.

You continue your jogs for the next few days, waving at Susan and her husband every morning. You and Susan come to an unspoken agreement: she stops bothering your sister and you make sure to stay away from her husband.

Just as you jog past her house, you notice an envelope on the sidewalk. It’s next to a brick mailbox that has the name Miller written on a plaque. You check the envelope and sure enough you see it's made out to a Joel Miller .

You walk up to the iron gate that matches the address and call out a hello , but no one answers. There’s red roses that wrap around the expansive gate which look and smell beautiful, but block your view inside. You test the handle of the gate and luckily it opens.

“They must’ve dropped it when getting the mail this morning,” you mumble to yourself.

“Mornin’, doll,” a gruff voice calls out to your right.

You jump slightly and turn to look, finding a man crouched by the gate. He stands to his full height and you have to tilt your head up just so you can keep eye contact.

“Good morning,” you whisper.

He’s older and handsome, much more attractive than the college boys you're used to. He places his gardening shears down and takes off his gloves to shake your hand. You do your best to control the shiver that courses through your body at the touch of his warm skin.

“Joel,” he states, swiping his other hand through his salt and pepper hair.

You open your mouth to say your name, but he beats you to it.

“How did you know–”

“I heard your conversation with Susan the other day,” Joel interrupts with a slight smirk.

His hand tightens for a moment until he lets go, dragging his fingers over your palm. You feel embarrassment wash over your body and you quickly hand him the envelope.

“Right–um, how much of the conversation did you hear?”

He lets out a laugh and drops the envelope into a basket that you’ve now just noticed. It’s full of the same red roses that cover his gate.

“Just the part where you threatened to fuck her husband if she didn’t leave your sister alone,” he says, placing his hands on his hips. “Effective threat, it seems.”

His eyes sweep over your body and you become hyper aware of the workout clothes you're wearing. Once again, a sports bra and running shorts.

“She’s backed down,” you say after a few moments, crossing your arms to cover your pebbling nipples.

“So,” he continues while walking closer, “you offerin’ to fuck every man on the block or just her’s?”

His words send a shock wave through your body, landing right between your legs. You ignore the pulsing in your cunt and instead lift your hand to slap him across the face.

As if he’s able to sense what you’re about to do, he catches your wrist before your hand makes contact with his face.

“How dare you–”

“Don’t act so innocent now,” he growls, pushing your body against the gate. “You told Susan you were going to let ‘em fill you up. Put a baby inside of you.”

Your back makes contact with the gate, luckily in a place where there’s no thorns. You try to push out of his hold, confused at how much you enjoy being manhandled by an older man you just met.

“Let me go or I’ll scream–”

“Joel?” a familiar high-pitched voice interrupts you. “Are you there?”

Your body stills at the sound of Susan’s voice. Theoretically, you could use this opportunity to scream for help. Sure, you’d have to face Susan again, but you’d be able to escape.

Except, Joel manages to pick up your lower body and push his jean-covered cock right against your cunt. You wrap your legs around his waist to not fall and place one hand on the iron gate behind you.

He rocks against you, moving a finger in front of his mouth, motioning you to stay quiet. Your mouth drops open in surprise as he grabs your hips and begins to grind you down on him.

“Yes, ma’am. What can I help you with?” Joel responds.

She tries to open the gate and you press your body back so she won’t see you. You’re not quite sure why you’re trying to hide.

“Joel, honey. Your gate is locked,” she says. “Come unlock it and let me in.”

Through your daze, you faintly register her tone. Did she just call him honey?

“Sorry, Susan. It does that sometimes. I’ve got my hands full at the moment,” Joel calls out, giving you another hard thrust.

You bite your lip to stop the moan that threatens to escape.

“That’s okay, I just wanted to stop by and warn you about the young lady that’s staying with her sister over on Ocean Avenue.”

Joel raises his eyebrow and stops his movements, dropping your thighs from his hold. You're shocked again, feeling dejected that he’s stopping.

He quickly spins you around and bends you over, pushing a hand between your thighs. You grab onto the iron gate once more and slap a hand over your mouth as he begins to rub a big hand over your thin shorts.

“Warn me?” he calls out. “What’s this young lady been up to?”

“Well, that–that– tramp ,” Susan spits out, “is acting in ways that she shouldn’t. I know you’re a hardworking man who has done so much for our community and the last thing I want is this girl making you uncomfortable.”

Joel yanks down your shorts and plunges a thick finger inside of you. You’d roll your eyes at her words but instead they're rolling into the back of your skull. He thrusts his finger a few times and calls out a is that right to Susan.

Joel adds another finger and you almost fall at the stretch. If those are just his fingers, you wonder how big his cock is. He uses his other hand to keep you steady and continues to fuck you with his thick fingers while talking to her.

“I just,” Susan continues, “I don’t know what to do. Maybe we can find a way for the sister to leave? If we all band together?”

Joel removes his hand from between your legs and places it on your back to keep you in place. This time you actually struggle in his hold, wanting to face Susan and give her a piece of your mind.

“Now, Susan,” Joel admonishes, “don’t go blaming the sister for the younger one’s actions. There’s no need to be spiteful to our new neighbor. There’s more than enough room in this neighborhood for everyone.”

You stop, surprised that Joel is standing up for your sister. He presses against you and you feel the roughness of his jeans on your bare skin. He brings you in close, gently rubbing his crotch on your slick cunt.

“Oh, you’re so right, Joel. I just get so caught up in the politics of the HOA. I want this community to be perfect.”

A wet glob of spit lands on your asshole and you clench in surprise. Joel quietly unzips his jeans and takes out his cock.

“Fucking perfect little asshole,” he whispers, pushing the tip of his cock right on your hole. “Not today, baby. Today is that juicy, little cunt.”

You arch your back and barely manage to stifle a whimper when he teases the tip of your entrance.

“What was that, Joel?” Susan calls out.

“That the community is already perfect, Susan.”

His voice sounds annoyed at this point.

“You think so, Joel? Thank you, I–”

Joel uses that moment to plunge inside of you, bumping your g-spot and reaching so deep that you choke on your own spit.

“I’m getting a call, Susan,” Joel says through gritted teeth, “I’ll speak to you later.”

Susan gives a sad goodbye while you bite on your hand to stop your moans. Joel is big, much bigger than any of the boys in your past. Your pussy spasms and flutters over his length and you breathe in deep to adjust to the size.

“S’tight,” he mutters, ”keep quiet f’me, doll. Too many people on the sidewalk at this time of mornin’.”

You hum in response, wanting him to fuck you, to stretch you and make you come on his cock. He starts a rhythm, keeping one hand on your waist so you match his thrusts and the other slips between your thighs.

Sticky wetness drips down your inner thighs and he swipes two fingers through the mess to bring them up to your clit. Joel pistons faster, rubbing harsh circles on your clit that have you accidently whimpering in pleasure.

“I know, baby,” he coos, “feels so good, doesn’t it?”

“ Y–yes ,” you whisper.

“Showing off that pretty body when runnin’ around the neighborhood,” he groans. “Picking fights and trespassing. Just needed someone to fuck some manners into you.”

Your fingers curl into the iron gate and your back arches even deeper. He speeds up, becomes harsher in his thrusts once he notices your pussy become softer, wetter, gripping his cock with each plunge.

“Little cunt can barely take my cock,” Joel groans, “fuck, doll. You’re choking me.”

You wish you could bite his neck, leave red hickeys on his tan skin that you imagine tastes like salt and roses and spearmint. Your head spins from lust and you feel the coil in your belly, ready to burst at any moment.

You hear voices, people walking past on the sidewalk for some early morning exercise. Joel lands a quick slap, slap to your clit and your cumming, clenching hard on his length while you fall apart.

Your vision blurs and you faintly hear him say there you go, make a fuckin’ mess on me . Wetness spills from your cunt, only making it easier for Joel. You bite hard on your bottom lip to stop the whimpers and your fingers curl into the iron gate.

“Gonna cum inside this pussy, put a baby in there,” he whispers.

“ Please, Joel,” you whine.

He brings your back to his chest, molds his lips to your neck and bites down, moving you like his personal fleshlight. Joel groans in your shoulder and then you feel it, hot pulses of cum, filling you up.

You hold onto his arm that's branded across your chest and squeeze down on him, milking every drop from his body, wanting it to mark you deep inside.

Joel's body trembles from the exertion and he stumbles as he finishes, turning his body to lean on the iron gate with you still attached to his cock.

He keeps you pressed to him for a few moments, keeping his nose pressed to your neck as he breathes deep. Your own breathing regulates and you become aware of the sensitivity all over your body.

Joel stands straight and gently pulls out. He reaches into his jeans pocket to reach for a clean handkerchief that he uses to clean up between your thighs.

"Same time tomorrow?" he asks.

You manage a rough fuck off and lightly push at his shoulders. He laughs and helps you fix your clothes. He swipes your phone that fell on the ground the moment he pushed you to the gate, having you unlock it so he can put in his phone number.

You make it back home a few minutes later, sore but for the most part, satiated . Your sister gets home hours later, once you've relaxed in her ginormous bathtub and washed away the evidence of your morning run.

"Are you seeing someone?" she teases as she walks in.

"What? No, why?"

"Someone left a giant bouquet of red roses on the porch."

Sure enough, you find a bouquet of familiar red roses on the front doorstep. You don’t need a notecard to know who they're from.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #dark joel miller #dark fic

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rafescvntyclubgf · 4 months ago

Text

“𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲” - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙳𝙸𝙻𝙵!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 × 𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: 𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤 | 𝐎𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐦 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼 𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓴 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮

𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙/𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖉𝖚𝖑𝖊

⚠️ warnings contain spoilers ⚠️

Older!Rafe, DILF!Rafe, pet names, kissing, praise, angst, soft!Rafe, swearing, smoking, drinking, unprotected p in v, oral (male receiving), cum tasting, spanking, choking, rough sex, degredation, rough oral, ownership kink, orgasm control, multiple orgasms

Thank you to my lovely beta reader @oceandriveab love you bae 💕🩷

Rafe’s POV:

"I love you, man. But, I'm home for one fuckin' week. Leave me alone. Yeah?"

"The Azimut deal is major, Cameron," my boss groans. “We really need you face-to-face in Italy.”

"I haven’t been home in a month. I’m gonna be gone for another few weeks," I chuckle in disbelief as I rub the sleep from my eyes; this fucker is tryin’ to pull even more of my time away. “Send, Top. I’m sure he’ll be able to land the deal. Alright?”

"We both know he won’t-"

"Not my fuckin’ problem," I cut him short as I drift into the driveway.

"Your loss. That’s a shit ton of money, man.”

"Yeah… Well, I got plenty of that. We done?" I taunt.

"Fuck. You’re killin’ me... See you in a week, Cameron. Give the best to y/n and the kids."

"Umm yeah... Gotta go," I sigh as I watch the scene play out in front of me. Jesus Christ. Problems already? This kid... Why is he me? Fuck. I'm gettin’ it back tenfold. I roll down my window, eavesdropping shamelessly, watching Harbor Thornton clamber the rest of the way out the window. Max leans toward her, cig dangling from his lip, no shirt on his muscular body, and a neck full of fresh hickeys.

"Tell him you went to Macy’s house, princess," he smirks, exhaling two streams of smoke through his nose. "I'll be right down. M'kay?"

"Don't take too long, Maxi. We're gonna be late."

Maxi? I can't help but snort out a sleepy snicker.

"Late for a party? We’re always late, Thornton. I just need to get my shit. Then, we can go to your house and get you dressed.”

”I can’t wait for you to see my costume, baby. Maybe you can take it off me later.”

”M’plannin’ on it.” He hooks his hand around the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her bleach-blonde hair.

"Maybe we can sneak into Piper’s parent’s room," she mumbles between sloppy kisses. Enough. Make it end. I open the truck door, slamming it shut. The two of them fall silent.

"Welp. Now or never," I gripe as I press the door open— Harbor lowers herself down the side of the house, clearly aware of my arrival as she does her best to hide. Like it matters, sweetheart... Your BMW is parked right outside the gate. "Have a nice day, Harbor," I sigh.

She looks around the house, giving me a guilty grin and a wave. "Uh-h... Hi, Mr. Cameron," she stammers. "You too." Harbor looks back at the window, no Max to be seen, quickly scampering to her car. An even thicker cloud of smoke pours out, wafting away. Jesus Christ, bud. I throw my head down, shuffling up toward the door, climbing up a few steps before grabbing the knob. There's a stir behind it already. My babies. Jerking it open, stepping through the threshold, a roar of joy following fast.

"Daddy!" Poppy shrieks at the top of her lungs. Her feet patter against the hardwood floor, Rory trailing close behind. I squat down to their level, waiting for them to round the corner. I meet their twinkling eyes, smiles doubling. They crash into my arms, crawling onto me to get closer. I hold them tight, taking in their smell. A wide smile sets on my lips as well.

"I missed you, two."

"Missed you, Daddy," Rory smiles. Poppy gives me an all-too-wet kiss on the cheek before nuzzling in again.

"I love you, Daddy," she whispers.

"I love you, princess. And I love you too, bud."

They leave as soon as they come, tearing back to the kitchen, leaving y/n standing in the doorframe, giving me a moment. She chuckles warmly, a beautiful smile playing on her perfect lips, giving me butterflies. Still. She walks my way, wrapping her arms around my neck. Picking her up in a hug, I pull her in tight. "Fuck. I missed my girl," I mumble against her skin, pressing a gentle kiss on the crook of her neck. "I love you, babydoll."

I set her down on the ground, not letting her leave my arms. Matching her gaze, I feel myself at peace again. "I love you too, baby," she whispers. Damn, I missed her voice. Cupping her soft cheek in my hands, I kiss her again, feeling her smile against my mouth.

"What?" I laugh lightly.

"You kinda smell like weed," she hums.

"That ain't me, honey."

"What?" She draws back, wide-eyed. "Max?"

"Mhmm..."

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head in frustration. "I said no weed," she whizzes. I blurt out a laugh, throwing my head back. Y/n slaps my chest, a little scowl setting on her pouty lips. "Rafe... He has ISS."

"ISS?"

"In-school suspension..."

"Oh shit. What'd I miss?" I breathe as I shut my eyes tightly. "Lay it on me, princess."

"Apparently, he sells weed."

"Why?" I whine. "It's not like he needs to..."

"He said we wouldn't buy him that truck he wanted? So, he's gonna buy his own."

"All’s I said was he had to wait ‘til his birthday or somethin’. He wants a fuckin’ Raptor, y/n. Shit starts at 80 G’s… Maybe get a job? Help me around the office? Do somethin’ besides jackin’ our boat, drinkin’ beers, and golfin’. Jesus fuck, that kid’s somethin’ else."

"Technically... he did get a job,” she breathes as she rests her palms on my chest, calming me down slightly.

"Technically... I guess," I huff, rolling my eyes away. "He is killin' me. Did you know Thornton was here?"

“Topper?”

“Harbor,” I correct her. Y/n's mouth falls open in disgust. "She was not... She didn’t come through the front.”

"Think they wanted some privacy, honey," you groan, shuddering in disgust, y/n echoing the same.

"Can you talk to him?" Y/n whispers, her tired eyes pleading with mine. "I thought I was doin' a good job, Rafe—Shit's fallin' through the cracks. I wasn’t even gonna do anything with the twins for Halloween… Just dress ‘em in one of Winnie and Max’s old costumes and pass out candy.”

“Winnie…” I smile, just thinkin’ about my pride and joy. “Where’s our girl at?” I ask as I look around the house, just the sound of the twins pattering feet left behind.

“You don’t wanna know,” Y/n sighs as she tugs her phone out of her back pocket, showing me a picture that has my eyes doubling.

“That’s Win?” I ask as I look down at my angel in next to nothin’, slamming my eyes shut in mental exhaustion. “What is she supposed to be?”

“Little Red Riding Hood?” Y/n sighs— the two of us silently coming to terms with the fact that our babies are anything but babies anymore.

“So, she’s gone then?”

“Just left with Jackson Mayb-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, pretty girl,” I mumble as I wrap my arms around her shoulders, pulling her in for comfort.

“It’s been a mess here, Rafe. I’m not doing a good job-”

"You." I stop her, pressing a rough kiss on her forehead. "You are doing an amazing job, y/n."

"Thank you," she whispers weakly. Y/n's attention gets ripped away, brows furrowing in irritation as she glances out the front window, watching Max lower himself from above. "Now? Please."

"Of course, honey." I give her one last kiss, turning toward the door, breaking out in a little trot, throwing the entry open. "Max!"

Max turns on his heels, looking back at me annoyedly, his mother's scowl and a button nose, the rest of him all me. "Rafe."

"Scuse me?" I challenge, making him shift his stance, crossing his arms over his tight white polo, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"I'm just kiddin'. Calm your tits,” he scoffs.

"Sure… I missed you. Weren't you gonna say 'hi' or anythin’?" He crushes the grass with his boat shoe, throwing his gaze to the ground to avoid eye contact. "Max?"

"Missed you too. Sorry... I just didn't want a lecture ‘bout Harbor-”

"Harbor?” I laugh tiredly. “The Thornton girl is the least of my worries. Why are you sellin', bud? You could get a job or help-"

"Rich comin' from you," he snips, cutting me off with a cruel laugh.

"What does that mean?"

"It's like the pot callin' the kettle black. You were literally a drug dealer. You dealt drugs, Dad."

"That shit was different ."

"That shit was worse," He sneers, turning back in the direction he was going. “M’sellin’ grass, not yayo. Fuckin’ hypocrit,” he yaps over his shoulder.

"Just get a normal job, Max. Like one with a W -2 ... Work with me-”

"Nah... 'Cause you don't get it,” he turns around, angry and quick.

"What don't I get?" I lift my voice, causing Max to return his stare to mine, looking back at me in disbelief.

"You’re never home. What’s there to do if you ain’t here? Huh?”

"Max-"

"What, Dad? Seriously... I'm gonna be late to pick her up. It’s Halloween. Give it a rest-”

"Cut the shit, Max," I mumble. "She's on the other side of the gate." He gives me a smirk, holding back a chuckle as he takes off his captain’s hat, running his fingers through his hair with a smug smile before putting it back on. "You two bein’ safe?" I ask gently.

"Not talkin' to you about that, old man."

"Holy shit," I puff, covering my eyes with my hands as I do my best not to lose my mind. "I'm your dad, Max. I worry about that shit."

"Of course we are. I'm not a stupid like-"

"Like me? Only me. Right?" I stop him before he can go any further, seeing the first look of remorse in his sights. "I know you weren't about to talk about your mom, Max." He throws his gaze to his feet again. "What would she say if she heard you talkin' like that?"

"She'd be upset," he mutters feebly. "Don't tell her I said that. I'm sorry."

"We just want you to be safe. Okay? It wasn't easy for your mom and me for a while. We just want your life to be easier. We aren't tryin' to ruin your life. And we can talk about the job tomorrow. I don’t wanna ruin your night. I'm sure we can figure out somethin' that doesn't involve you sellin' weed." He nods, giving me a soft smile. His mother's smile. Max turns around again, stepping away.

"I love you, bud."

"Love you too, dad. I'm glad you're home." There's no sarcasm in his tone, warming your heart.

"Oh, wait! Did you two need me to pick you up tonight?" I ask as he passes through the gate.

"The fuck do you think?" He cracks up, flicking me off with a smile.

Love you too, buddy. Turning around, I trudge up the driveway toward the house. Well... I don't know if I made it better or worse. But, that was somethin'.' I close my eyes, taking a deep, needed breath. The front door opens, and Y/n steps, strolling toward her SUV with the twins in hand. She opens the side, letting them climb in, walking back to the trunk.

Her dress sways with the fall breeze, heels strapped around her ankles. Wow. I’m struck with déjà vu. She wore a dress just like that on our first date. I couldn't keep my eyes off her. That face, that smile, her voice, her curves. She knew how to work 'em all.

Babygirl… Y/n reaches inside, the hem of her dress riding up her thighs. The slightest peak of her perfect fuckin' ass. A smile spreads across my lips. Y/n knows I'm watchin'... She knew it then, too. I need her... So fuckin' bad. It's been too long.

I walk toward her while she digs through the twins' travel bag, hastily taking hold of her hips, pressing myself against her ass, making her giggle. She winds up slowly, relaxing her back against my chest, looking up at me over her shoulder. "You're stunning. Fuck, you look so damn good, y/n," I rasp.

"Thank you, daddy. So do you."

"What are you doin’, ma?”

“Getting them costumes. I feel guilty, Rafe,” she sighs with embarrassment. “I can’t believe I didn’t. The older kids are a disaster; the house is a mess-”

“Don’t feel guilty, baby. The kids are fine. They’re just teenagers. Yeah? And you aren’t a maid. I can’t believe you’re keepin’ up with everything like you are. Get outta here, baby. Buy yourself a coffee, get us a bottle of wine for later, pick up the costumes. Let me handle these two. Unless you want me to go-”

“No!” She stops me fast, laughing at her rash reply. “No. I’d love to get out”.

“And, I’ll talk to the housekeeper about comin’ once a week. Oh, and Harbor… I’ll ask her to come over when I’m outta town so you can take a break. You deserve it.”

“You sure,” she asks apprehensively.

“‘Course I’m sure, pretty,” I croon as I cup her cheeks, pressing a kiss on her lips. “We’ll get these kids dressed up, walk around the neighborhood for a bit, put ‘em down, and have some time for ourselves.”

"That would be amazing." She turns her body into mine, arms wrapping around me, slipping into the back pockets of my slacks. "A night to ourselves. Huh?” She smiles at me coyly.

"Yeah… We’ll snag the good candy, bury a few glasses of wine, and have a good night…”

"I can’t wait, Rafey. I need you so bad."

"Well, shit," I chuckle lustfully. "You're readin' my mind."

"It's been too long." She leans in for a kiss as she squeezes my ass.

"I was just sayin' that, y/n." My hands weave through her hair, tugging slightly.

"You should feel how wet I am for you..."

"That so?" I slip my hand down, tracing slowly up her thigh, feeling her lace panties soaking wet.

"AHHH!" Poppy screeches, making you both jump, jolting the two of you out of your feral state.

"What the hell..." I grumble, making y/n laugh. "You good, princess?" Poppy smiles brightly from her car seat. Her blonde curls bounce as she nods 'yes.’

"She's been doin' that all week," y/n breathes.

"I'm sorry, baby. You're a patient woman," I hail as I pull her in for a hug. "Thank you."

“Anything for you, daddy.”

Shit. I rub my hand over my smile as she steps away, smacking her ass before she can get too far, chuckling to myself as I watch the recoil. So fuckin’ sexy. Y/n meets my gaze, giving me a little wink as she steps into the front seat. Yeah… That’s my girl.

“You two wanna go play on the trampoline?” I ask, offering up the only thing that’ll pull them out of the vehicle without tears. The two squeal with delight as I free them from their seats, climbing out of the car, running toward the back before I can even shut the doors. I stand in the drive, waving at y/n as she pulls out. She looks happier. Fuck, she just needed time to herself.

Hurry home, baby.

Reader’s POV:

You pour a coffee for Rafe and yourself, adding some Bailey’s to top it all off. It had been a long, tiring week with a never-ending list of tasks with him away. But he was finally home. Rafe leans down at eye-level with your daughter, fixing her little cat ears. He turns to your son, swathing the superhero cape around his shoulders before tying the perfect bow.

The twins giggle, bright smiles plastered all over their round faces as their favorite man dotes on them, the two sneaking in hugs and kisses when they can. Rafe reaches into the back pocket of his slacks, grabbing his phone, snapping picture after picture of the duo, looking back at them proudly.

The four of you step out into the night, hand-in-hand. You walk through your beautiful neighborhood, an unsaid contest between the kooks of who could outdo who, each one of the stately manors more done up than the last. Jack-o’-lanterns flicker on the entrances, spooky music swelling all around.

You look up at Rafe and smile. Even though it was decades ago, you couldn't help but see that same college boy you fell in love with; Rafe still rocking a backward cap, his crisp polo poking out of his cozy North Face jacket. He’s exchanged his jeans for khakis and his red SOLO cups for a travel mug. But the man only looks better with age. The glow of the streetlights highlights his strong jawline— grizzled with the perfect 5 o'clock shadow. His beautiful blue eyes follow the twins as they run freely from house to house. Rafe’s fit, he always has been, but the way his muscles move under his clothes has you dying to rip them all off.

He’s talking business, telling stories about some big deals he closed. You try your best to focus—you really do, but you get lost watching his perfect lips as he speaks, catching the little looks he steals between sips of coffee making your head spin.

Rafe was working so hard for your family: closing deals, making a name for himself, doing what he loves and still coming home being the husband and dad you could only dream of… He’s perfect. You'd drag him home right now if it wouldn't break the twins’ hearts.

Your kids run over, laughing and squealing with delight, opening their bags wide to show the two of you their treasures. Rafe kneels down, looking in the sack, asking them about their loot. “What’d you get? Show me, princess,” Rafe invites, his tone softening as she speaks to her. Your daughter reaches into the satchel and points her tiny finger at a few king-size candy bars. Rafe sneaks his hand in too, grabbing a Reese’s cup. Your daughter’s eyes widened in horror; Rafe signature scowl and glare cutting into her dad.

“Daddy!” She scolds, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Oh - Umm,” Rafe panics slightly as he stands up, towering over your daughter, looking down at her as he fumbles for his wallet. “I didn't steal it. Alright? Daddy was hungry, was all. How much do I owe you, sweetheart?”

“A dollar.”

“A dollar?” He gasps as he fights a wide smile. “You drive a hard bargain.” Rafe thumbs through his wallet, pulling out a dollar and one more as he catches Rory hoping for one too. “N’what do you have for me, buddy?” He questions as he crouches down, looking in the bag. Rory sticks out his tongue as he reaches inside the pouch, looking for something for Rafe, pulling out a taffy. Rafe scrunches his nose in disgust, contorting it into a smile before your son catches his eye again, making you laugh.

Fuck, he's killing me. You feel your cheeks warm up as he walks back to you, looking down at you with loving eyes. Your heart swells with devotion as he slips his hand into yours, feeling the warmth of his palm. He lifts your hand, kissing the top. But it’s not enough; Rafe pulls you in by the hand, kissing your lips instead. “I missed you, baby,” he mumbles against your kiss, his voice dropping slightly lower, sending chills across your body. He smiles against your mouth as you echo the same sentiment. “You look so sexy tonight,” he drawls, his southern accent bleeding through his compliment, his tone warm, and sticky sweet.

“You look so good, daddy,” you praise. Rafe groans against your lips, living in your words.

“It’s after bedtime. What do you say, baby?” He asks as his large hand falls down your body, pulling you in by your waist. “Let’s go home.”

Rafe’s eyes widen as he walks through the door. "No fuckin’ way," he praises as he drinks you in, taking in every inch of your frilly maid’s costume. His beautiful blue eyes fall to a lusty haze. “N’I said ‘you weren’t a maid, baby… You makin’ a liar outta me. Huh?” He asks as he twirls you under his finger.

Rafe’s rough hands slip under the hem of your lace stockings, following the little straps of your garter belt, clipped to your barely there panties, still hidden under the satin skirt. “Daddy’s gotta get you out of the house more… ‘Specially if you’re gonna come back with gifts like this. You’re spolin’ me. Fuck,” he groans drunkenly, looking down at you in awe. He takes you into his strong arms, tossing you playfully on the mattress.

Rafe mounts the bed fast, crushing you under his weight. His lips capture yours in a heated kiss."You taste good... You smell so fuckin' good, darlin'," he purrs as he buries his head in your neck, stroking his clothed cock against your throbbing pussy. "Damn. I missed this."

"I missed you, baby. C'mon... I need you inside of me," you pant in that pathetic tone that gets you anything you want.

"Jesus, y/n," he moans, chuckling sinfully.

"Why are you dressed, daddy?"

"Good question." He sucks off your bottom lip, tugging at it with his teeth. "Can I leave these on?" Rafe asks, snapping the garter belt around the fullness of your thighs with his big fingers. You smile and nod.

"Panties, too..." You add.

"Well shit," he breathes onto your lips, instantly gliding two thick fingers up your soaked cunt, making you suck in a breath. Rafe takes his digits between his lips. "You're dripping, y/n."

"Haven't stopped thinkin' about you since you left."

"Me either, y/n. You're so fuckin' sweet."

"Rafe..." You pout.

"Shit, baby... I forgot what a slut you were for me."

"How could you forget?" You giggle against his lips. "Clothes. Now."

"Mmm... Yes, Mrs. Cameron."

Rafe steps off the bed, tossing his shirt off his built body. You study him carefully as you slink to the edge of the bed. He grasps his belt in his hands, tugging the leather loose. "Let me?" You sigh as you rise, sky-high heels clicking against the wood floor.

Rafe’s eyes continue to roam your curves as you unfasten his top button, splaying his zipper, pulling his slacks down low. He grabs your chin, drawing you up. His blue eyes lock on yours; Rafe’s stare is hungry and deep. His grip is rough. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to let you know he's in control. This is what he wants... What he's craving at this moment, and you are more than happy to oblige.

"You're my good girl. Aren't you, y/n?" He groans, making you wetter.

"Yeah," you sigh.

"Tell me, y/n."

"I'm your good girl, Rafe."

"And you listen to me, and me alone. Don't you, baby girl?" He runs his thumb along your bottom lip, making your heart thump.

"Yes, daddy. Only you."

"Daddy? I love the way you say that, baby.” Rafe pushes you back on the bed. You sit on the plush mattress, looking up at him innocently as you toy with the elastic of his boxers. He gives you a little nod. You take your cue, pulling them off, following his thick cock to the tip, letting it spring free.

"Fuck, Rafe," you sigh, gripping him in your hands, precum glazed on his tip. You quickly swipe your tongue across his swollen head, swirling for good measure.

"Y/n..." He draws out your name as he towers over you, looking down at you with lust-blown eyes. Rafe drops down on one knee— his strong hand lifting your calf, sliding your spike heel off your foot, kissing your leg unhurriedly before working on the next. He's taking his time, savoring every inch of you before dropping the shoe to the floor. You inhale sharply as he hooks his hands around your legs, tugging you to the edge of the bed.

His calloused finger meets your knee, tracing slowly up your thigh. Your breathing starts to quicken, and your lips part. You look between your legs, watching your husband spread your thighs. "Rafe," you moan as he teases your entrance with the tip of his ringed finger.

"Y/n." He draws out your name, working it deep. "Who's pussy is this, baby?"

Fuck.

He dips in another finger, thrusting it in and out... in and out. Your eyes drift back up his body, watching his abs and arms flex with each thrust. Rafe’s eyes greet yours, the most beautiful blue; he lets your gaze linger on his a little longer. He doesn't punish you, rewarding you with a smirk and some pressure on your clit.

"Mmm... Yours," you whimper. "My pussy is yours, daddy."

"It is... Isn't it," he chuckles as you start to rock with him. Rafe drops to his knees, causing you to draw your legs wider. "Fuck. I could cum just lookin' at you, y/n." His tongue meets your pussy, licking a line to your clit, latching on for a momentary, releasing you with a pop. Your head falls back. An airy moan slips your lips. "Remember when we met? You were such a bad girl, y/n." He kisses his way up your stomach, past your ribcage, grabbing and pressing your breasts together. "No one could tell you what to do."

"But you..."

"That's right." Rafe grabs you roughly, pulling you from the bed and drawing you to your feet. His hands work up your body, weaving into your hair, pulling slightly.

"Get on the chair," he whispers against your lips.

"Yes, Rafey." You walk across the room, Rafe, meeting you fast. The man is on you before you can even reach it. His broad chest presses flush with your back, kissing your neck harshly. "Fuck, baby," you whine. He shoves you, causing you to fall forward. You grasp the back of the chair while his strong hands palm your ass under your slutty maid’s costume. Rafe grabs your thong, snapping it against your skin. His hands return to your body, working over your skin, slapping your ass, causing you to groan.

"First time you sucked my cock, we were at Tops place. Remember?” He spreads your ass and spanks you even harder, causing you to cry a little louder. “You were dressed like a Playboy bunny,” Rafe drawls as he grabs himself in his hands, stroking a few times as he takes you in. “You didn’t even take the ears off.”

“You remember?”

“Shit’s burned into my memory, baby,” he sighs as his large hand follows the length of your spine. "You look even better now, sweetheart."

"So do you, baby? We fucked the next night."

"Mhmm… Yeah, we fuckin’ did. Night one. You’re such a good mommy, baby. Who woulda thought you used to be such a whore back in the day. Huh?”

“Mmm… You bring out the slut in me, daddy. You always have.”

“Yeah, baby. That’s right.” Rafe seizes his dick by the base, tapping it against your ass with one hand, using the other to grope your skin."This fucking body, y/n," he moans as he presses his tip into your entrance. "It's just so damn perfect."

"Shit," you hiss as you feel a stretch.

"And these tits." He grabs the straps of your costume, brushing them off your shoulders, pulling it down past your tits. He reaches around, grabbing your breasts as he glides in a little deeper.

"This waist." His hands drift lower, mirroring his words, driving his cock in a little more. "These hips," he grunts, taking hold of them, bottoming you out, causing you to wail.

Rafe draws out slowly. "Baby, please," you sigh, craving more. He thrusts into you again. Your head falls forward. Rafe snaps his hips into you, setting a rapid pace. Skin, cracking skin. He spanks you— a prickling sting is left behind. "More, Daddy," you beg.

"I don't know, baby... Your ass is pretty red," he taunts. "You sure?"

"Yes. Fuck!"

"Atta girl." He slaps you roughly on the other side. You feel his hands wrapping around your throat, squeezing just enough that you can feel your pulse. The chill of his rings felt against your skin. Rafe rolls his hips into you, deliciously slow, using his grip as leverage to drive deeper.

His hands push higher, gathering your hair. He tugs your strands, causing you to rise, arching your back. He's unforgiving, pounding into you just like you were craving he would. "Fuck me, y/n," he demands.

"Yes," you moan, using the back of the chair to steady yourself as you fuck him back. Working Rafe in and out of your soaked cunt. You bounce and grind, rolling your hips as Rafe praises you. Your ass claps against his toned hips as you take every inch of his long dick, filling yourself to the brim. "Rafe!" You cry.

"Fuck, y/n. Let me hear you, sweetheart," he rasps.

You lose yourself, fluttering around his cock, gripping his wrists as he takes over, rutting into you quickly. "Fuck, Rafe! Just like that." Pitiful cries pass your lips as he proceeds to wreck you from behind. Rafe doesn't let up till he feels you relax around his cock, your head falling back on his chest as he rocks in and out.

"I missed you so fucking much, daddy," you whimper. Rafe kisses your shoulder gently, working his way up to your ear.

"I missed you more, baby. You're my girl, y/n. You know that? You always have been."

"I'm your girl, Rafe," you pant.

"Does my girl want more?"

"Never stop," you chuckle breathlessly.

"Anything for you, y/n." Rafe thrusts into you roughly, making you fall forward, gripping the chair as you expel a breath. He presses your head against the plush backrest, increasing his tempo. "Ugh... Do you hear that, y/n?" You try to nod. "Mmm... You're so damn wet." He turns you around, pulling you back into his arms. Your kisses are wild and deep as you cross the room to your bed. "Can you taste yourself, y/n?" He mumbles against your lips.

"Yes," you mewl.

"Can you ride me, baby?" He groans.

"Yes, daddy," you sigh blissfully. Rafe falls onto the bed. You slip away before he can grab you; Rafe chuckles darkly, twining his fingers behind his head.

"Couldn't get enough?"

"You're right, baby... I'm sweet," you laugh breathily against his cock, watching as goosebumps spread across his thighs.

You wrap your fingers around his length, licking your slick off, eyes burning into his. "Holy shit, baby," he moans, throwing his head deeper into the pillow. You flick your tongue across his slit, tasting the both of you together. Rafe's hand glides from your bangs to the top of your head, taking a tight hold. He presses you down on his cock, bobbing your head up and down to stroke his throbbing dick.

You can feel Rafe striking the back of your throat, tears pooling in your eyes. You flutter your lashes, feeling your tears run in two little rivers down your cheeks. "Ugh... You're so beautiful, baby," he grunts. His eyes roll back as you drop your hand, rubbing little circles against your clit, moans pouring from your lips between strokes. "Come'mere," he chuckles raspily."We gotta do that later... Please, baby. I need more of that."

Rafe grabs your hips, guiding you on top. You rise on your knees, grabbing Rafe's hand, sucking his fingers, cleaning, circling your tongue around his wedding band. He draws them down to your clit, rolling them gently. "All I could think about when I left the house was you, y/n. I couldn't wait to get home. You make me feel so fucking good, y/n." He gives you a sinful smile as his tongue skimming along his rosy bottom lip.

"You make me feel so good, baby," you breathe, slinking your frame hands up your frame, the skirt still pooled around your hips, boobs bouncing with every movement.

Rafe grips his thick cock in his fist. "All I could think about was seeing you naked, princess. Look at you now. Huh? Never thought I’d get to see you like this… So fuckin’ good to me. You know that?" He slides his tip through your silk, circling his head on your clit. You let out a breathy moan. Rafe's eyes roll back again. "Your little noises and this wet fuckin' pussy." He presses his tip in, and you feel the stretch. "Mmm... Grab the headboard, y/n." You grip it as Rafe takes hold of the small of your waist. He thrusts up into you roughly.

"Rafe!" You cry. He lets out a growl, thrusting into you a few more times for good measure. He relaxes on the bed, beckoning you with his stare. "I want you deep in my pussy, daddy," you sigh, sinking slowly, letting your cunt swallow up his big dick. He sucks a sharp breath, snatching your hips, holding you in place.

Clasping the headboard, you start to circle your curves, rolling and working yourself on his length. "Holy shit, honey," he moans. You can hear yourself—how wet you are for him. Rafe can hear it, too, giving you a little smirk. "Still so wet for me?"

"Sucking your cock always gets me wet, daddy. You know that."

"Fuck, baby."

You reach back, clutching his thighs, bouncing on the mattress, nail sinking into his skin. "Shit. You're deep, Rafe," you whimper.

"So fuckin' deep." You look between your thighs, watching his long cock slicked with you once more. Rafe can feel you tightening around him; he can see the look in your eye. "That's my girl," he rasps. "So fuckin' good for me. Can you wait, baby... Cum when I tell you?"

"Rafe..."

"I thought you listened to me, y/n? Can't you wait, mama?" He chuckles as he applies a little more pressure to your clit.

"Plea-" You stutter as your body quivers uncontrollably.

"Cum." You scream his name as you toss your head back. Your orgasm radiates through your body, making your toes curl, popping off your heels. Rafe continues to thrust as you fall apart. Your muscles tighten around his dick as he works at an insane pace. "Fuck, y/n... That feels so fuckin' good, baby," he moans. "So tight."

He throws you to your back, stepping off the bed, looping his arm under your thighs, pulling you exactly where he wants you, right on the border, before slinging a leg over his shoulder, your heels tumbling the rest of the way off onto the floor. Rafe tips into you, pressing a rough kiss on your lips as he starts to thrust again. His tongue reels with yours. The two of you, utterly exhausted, panting into your kiss.

"Almost there," he mumbles, fighting back his climax to get you on last time. He wraps his arm around your thigh, using that to drive himself deeper.

"S-Shit, Rafe," you stammer. As you feel him strike your g-spot, making your body tremble.

"Again?" He gives you a cocky smile, getting exactly what he wants. You nod rapidly as tears gather in your eyes, overstimulated.

"Can you cum for daddy?"

"Y-Yes. Yes. Shit," you stutter as you grab ahold of the edge of the bed, tossing your head back. Rafe grunts and moans as he thrusts sloppily. Tears fall from your eyes as you close them tightly, your climax claiming your body. A choked cry passes your lips, giving him all you can muster. You feel the warmth of his release, Rafe answering with your name on his lips.

Rafe mounts the bed, pressing a soft kiss against your mouth. His lips drift to your flushed cheeks, kissing away your tears. "I love you, baby. I love you so much," he respires as he holds you close.

"I love you. Never leave me again..." You sigh blissfully.

"I hate leavin' you. But, fuck, do I love comin' home to you, princess." Rafe chuckles as he plays with the costume around your hips, smiling against your lips. “Keep this on for a little while longer. Yeah?”

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