#rhiannon x you

[lottiesgrl]

𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗿𝗵𝗶𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗻 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀

cw: canon-typical violence, mentions of stalking, semi-toxic behavior, smut, fingering (r!receiving), face riding (rhiannon receiving), strap-on use (rhiannon receiving), inspired by an ask that i no longer have in my inbox

🗡you'd be lying if you said you hadn't noticed the way rhiannon looked at you when you talked to your mutual coworkers. you were always able to notice it - the nasty looks she shot your way when you spoke with claudia and linus, even if it's over something as mundane as reporting on a missing bike

🗡you're pretty sure she hates you, and you're not sure why. i mean, what could you have done to deserve the way her eyes bore into the back of your head every time you're in a conversation?

🗡so, you vow to try and talk to her, in order to dissuade this "grudge" she has against you. but when you do, it doesn't go at all how you're expecting. the corners of her lips pull into a shy smile every time you approach her desk, her eyes averted and fingers pulling at the hem of her skirt.

🗡around the same time, you start to notice a few things off around the workplace. whenever jeff, that asshole who keeps criticizing your article proposals, says something particularly harsh, he always coincidentally gets caught up on the toilet. you're not sure if it has something to do with the fact that rhiannon is the one handing him his morning coffee each morning with a sickly-sweet smile that you're sure is hiding years of disdain.

🗡and it's not just at your job, either - the sleazy guy on the trolley that always tries to cop a feel each time you pass him hasn't been on since you complained about him to rhiannon, pointedly avoiding eye contact when you notice him on the street as he rushes to take the tube instead. and the woman in your neighborhood who always complains your lawn decorations has been complimenting them more than usual, with a strange expression that you can't quite discern.

🗡if you though rhiannon's jealousy couldn't get any worse than it already can be, you'd be deathly wrong. when the two of you get together, it's like someone flipped a switch, and her jealousy increases tenfold.

🗡it starts out with subtle gestures and touches, innocuous things that you might not have been able to notice if you hadn't already been aware of her possessive tendencies. a hand wrapped around your waist while you're socializing, intertwining your fingers as you walk to work together, and an arm flung over your shoulders when you're at the pub. she always needs to be touching you in some way, and you don't mind one bit.

🗡but as time goes on, she starts to be less subtle. well, at least she thinks she's being subtle. to you, the way she stares daggers into anyone who even remotely flirted with you was anything but inconspicuous.

🗡it's no surprise that she's incredibly insecure, and this is especially true when you're in a relationship with her. to her, the reason she's so possessive is because you're the only person in her life who truly sees her. no one else has cared about her like you, and the thought of someone else stealing you from her is absolutely mortifying.

🗡there have been many instances in which she breaks down to you about her insecurities, and you understand it. in your eyes, she's the most gorgeous girl you've ever seen, and you experience your fair share of jealousy. you run your hands through her hair, something incredibly vulnerable for her that she's allowed you to do, and assure her that you wouldn't want anyone else.

🗡you're more than content to live with rhiannon's possessiveness, even if it means that the men that bother you often end up missing.

nsfw under the cut

🗡when rhiannon gets jealous, more often than not, she gets turned on. really, really turned on. after all, it gives her such a rush to know that people can look at you all they want, but no one will ever be able to have you, to fuck you, like her.

🗡if she notices someone flirting with you while you're out at the bar, she will be dragging you home, desperate to have you all to herself (but not before she approaches the two of you, wrapping her arms around you and kissing your cheek while asking, "babe, who's this?")

🗡sometimes, if the bar is too far or she's feeling especially needy, she'll drag you into the nearest alleyway then and there. you have your reservations, but when she's two fingers deep inside of you whispering that she'll kill anyone who sees the two of you, your inhibitions fly out the window.

🗡whether she's dominant or not depends on the day. some days, she wants to bury her fingers deep inside of you, making you cry out her name until she's wrung multiple orgasms out of you. it gives her such a rush, knowing that you give in so easily and so willingly, all because you're hers. but some days, all she wants is for you to get her off. whether it's guiding your hands to her (absolutely dripping) panties, riding your face, or bouncing on your strap, she needs you to make her cum, and you're more than happy to oblige.

🗡she'll force you to look into her eyes, her grip on your chin tightening and wrenching your face up to look at her if you dare to break eye contact for even a second. "look at me", she growls, bottom lip between her teeth as you bring her closer to the edge. she wants - no, needs - you to see her, because you're the only one who can. you see her.

🗡aftercare with her after jealous sex is always so soft, pressing soft kisses to her forehead as the two of you lie in bed panting. you reassure her that you're hers, forever and always, and you can see the way a smile forms on her face at your words.

🗡you're hers. forever. and she'll always make sure of that.

[chainsawsangel]

"I finally understand the harvey hype"

oh, I'm sorry! you mean stardew valley harvey? the "he's such a boring romance" harvey? the harvey whose romance took me LITERAL hours to get so I could marry the lovable guy, that harvey?

he's cool now? HE'S BEEN COOL.

[rhiannswork]

Omg Miguel ohara x drunk reader would be amazing thxxx

m. o’hara || “bar.” read 21:56

a/n: i was writing this @ an airport so i didn’t wanna spend time trying to think about any astronomical prodigious voluminous colossal words or trying to make this oneshot poetic or anything. enjoy! p.s. i’ve never gotten drunk before i’ve only gotten high so 💀

warnings: drunk, mentions of vomit, mentions of being kidnapped, that’s it i think

BUZZ BUZZ you felt your phone vibrate in your bra. your vision was slightly disoriented so it took you a couple of tries to even get in your phone. you saw the message notification from miguel, asking for a pin of your current location.

you believed that providing him with your location directly would be simpler than sending a pin to help him find you.

you adeptly typed, stringing together words that even shakespeare might envy, utilizing every term in the dictionary. your hands, experiencing cramps in the process. ‘bar.’

on miguel's side, he was nearly pacing back and forth, expecting a ransom letter from your kidnapper or some substantial information, and all he received was that brief message.

‘which one, cariño?’

you sighed as he couldn’t understand where you were. it was pretty plain and simple. you gave in and sent a pin. after that, you really don’t remember what was going on.

you came back to reality, found yourself laid in the back of miguel’s car. hozier quietly flowing out of the speakers. “this car is so nice, miggy…” you spoke with your face almost mushed in the seat.

"yeah?" miguel’s soft chuckle resonated, his deep voice nearly rendering him incomprehensible. "yeah," you responded, sharing a giggle with him.

“try not to be sick in here then, okay? we just have a few minutes left ‘til we get home.” you hummed as a reply, drifting away from reality once more.

you heard the car door open, your glossy eyes looking up at miguel’s tall figure. miguel swooped you up from the back. it was too fast for you. “don’t feel so good miggy.”

in a state of panic, miguel felt unsure of what to do next. should he quickly run to the bathroom? no, that’s what had triggered this situation. his gaze shifted to the trash bins in your garage, contemplating an alternative solution.

he walked over to them and popped the lid up, thankfully, trash day was that morning so there was no trash in the bin. he would still have to clean it out though.

your body never reacted well to alcohol, it always resulted to vomiting somewhere other than the restroom. this time, the victim was the roll bin.

"there you go, good girl," miguel comfortingly rubbed your back as you still felt a bit lightheaded and dehydrated. "i’m thirsty, miggy," you murmured, leaning your head back against his chest.

"alright, let's get you some water, baby," miguel said gently as he lifted you up, holding you in a swaddled manner. you rested your head on his chest and patiently waited as he carried you into the kitchen.

"put me on the countertop, it's cold," you instructed, pointing to the island counter. his laughter resonated through his chest as he carefully set you down on the cool surface. the cold marble sent a shiver through your backside.

miguel walked to the refrigerator, retrieved a bottle of water and a container filled with grapes. "here," he offered, handing you the water and keeping a watchful eye as you took sips.

you paused your drinking and set the water beside you. "nah uh, i want you to finish all of that before you eat these grapes," miguel insisted, his tone firm. he proceeded to wash the grapes and place them in a bowl.

with a groan, you chugged the remaining water in the bottle. "now the grapes, please...?" you requested, opening your mouth and patiently awaiting for miguel to feed you.

"of course, princess y/n," he replied with a smile, placing a grape in your mouth. you chewed with a content smile on your face.

[vevobly]

Being Rhiannon Lewis's Lover! (Pre-Relationship) [1]

A/N: My contribution to the growing pile of Rhiannon works! Also, to avoid confusing anyone, I wrote this with a gender-neutral reader in mind and with them as coworkers with her.

Rhiannon is an observant woman, and though you haven't made much of an impact on her life before, you do now. She starts noticing you more than she realizes, spotting you in crowded rooms or catching glimpses of you from the corner of her eyes. She brushes it off as a coincidence at first, but soon enough, she finds herself actively looking for you.

Rhiannon doesn't usually go out of her way to interact with others, especially not without good reasons, but with you? She finds herself breaking that. It doesn't matter if it's like, a sarcastic comment here or a passing compliment there, she always has this way of making sure you know she noticed you. Even if she acts like it's no big deal (It is, she just doesn't want to acknowledge it yet at that point).

Rhiannon might be across the room or at her desk, but she'll always catch herself glancing your way. Of course, it's not obvious to anyone else, but you can tell when her gaze lingers on you for just a second longer than usual (what can you say? you're an observant person too). She quickly looks away if you notice though, immediately resorting to pretending that she wasn't and that it was nothing.

After almost every conversation or meeting she has with you, she replays everything that happened back in her mind—overanalyzing everything from the small bits to the big ones. Did you notice her lingering too long? Did her voice shake when she spoke to you? It's not like her to get flustered, but she can't help and care more than she lets on.

Rhiannon doesn't do grand gestures, but she occasionally surprises you with thoughtful actions. Maybe she'll bring you coffee without you asking or notice you're staying late and bring you snacks to keep you going. Small acts of kindness that speak volumes. And again, she'll act like it's not a big deal, but it's clear to you that she's looking out for you.

Even though Rhiannon doesn't go out of her way to be overly helpful to you with your own work, she still offers you assistance on certain tasks sometimes, but in a low-key way. She provides small pieces of advice on a project you're stuck on or suggests a way to improve your work without outright saying you need help. She tries her best to make it seem neutral but she definitely wants to guide you.

When you interact with other coworkers, especially if they seem way too friendly to you? Rhiannon wouldn't be able to help herself and feel a pang of jealousy. She'll try to hide it behind by making some sarcastic remark or pretending like she does not care, but you'll find her watching your exchange with said coworker a little too closely for comfort. Like a predator making sure to secure their prey.

When Rhiannon asks you about your weekend plans or personal life, she'll try so hard to act casual, but you can tell she's kinda desperate to know about it. Like it's important, ancient knowledge she needs to know. She'll act like it's just a friendly conversation between two colleagues, but she'll be staring at you like an eagle and asking you follow-up questions to keep the whole conversation going.

On the rare occasions when you're not at work whether it's a sick day, vacation, or just an absence. Rhiannon will find herself looking for you. As always, she tries to be as professional and not let it show, but she misses you badly like a child missing their parent or favorite toy. She'll be distracted more often than usual just because of the fact you're not around at work.

She's careful about boundaries, whether physical or emotional and tries her best to make sure she respects yours. But there ARE moments when she goes a little beyond her usual limits: asking you personal questions, offering help in ways that cross into more intimate territory.. playing it off as casual as usual.

[mayasaurusss]

Sweetpea masterlist.

Rhiannon Lewis: Wearing a couple costume: fictober prompt "Search for me in the night": fictober prompt

[rhiannonsknife]

── .✦ MASTERLIST

𖤓 sfw. ☾ nsfw.

YELLOWJACKETS

౿🌷— jackie taylor:

secretly hooking up with jackie hcs ☾

is it casual now? ☾

౿ 🪵— shauna shipman:

no one could save me but you 𖤓

dating shauna pre crash hcs 𖤓

SWEETPEA

౿🔪— rhiannon lewis:

obsessive!rhiannon hcs ☾

dating rhiannon hcs ☾

coworker!rhiannon hcs ☾

rhiannon & detective!reader 𖤓

rhiannon kidnaps you 𖤓

requests: open

[domripley]

Me looking at my google doc I opened at 10:30 am even though it’s now 2:38 pm with 0 words written

[fireflyhq]

Chapter One: Feel Good Inc.

"City's breaking down on a camel's back, They just have to go cause they don't know whack" Gorillaz "Feel Good Inc"

|Series Masterlist|

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Rhiannon finds out one of her students has been missing for weeks, causing her to spiral into a panic attack. When she wakes up in her shared apartment with Tess and Joel she's met with an even bigger bombshell. Their car battery was taken. Joel refuses to let her help, and an argument befalls the two of them.

Warnings: Panic Attacks, mentions of fights, drinking, Joel being an ass, Joel in general, fainting. Some descriptions of Outbreak day, children is distress, gunfire

A/N: This is the first chapter of my story! I'm a bit nervous about how this will be received, but I hope you enjoy! This story means a lot to me :)

“Alright, class is dismissed! Please be sure to read the next chapter of your book and write your summary papers!” Little white speckles of chalk crumbled to the ground as Rhiannon wiped down the worn down chalk-board. The sound of chairs scraping against the tiled floor filled the small classroom, kids conversing as they grabbed their bags to head to their next class. Rhiannon turned to face her desk, gathering her supplies into the well-loved leather satchel Joel had found for her during a run outside the QZ. She looked up to watch as her students filed out, eyes scanning over each child. Every single one accounted for…Except for one.

‘Ellie still isn’t here…’ she thought fretfully, worrying on her cracked, bottom lip.

Elliie Williams, the human time-bomb, and Rhiannon’s favorite student. Ellie was quick-witted and sharp tongued, and everything this shit-hole needed to change it. The only down-side of her hot-headed temper was where it put her. Every other week it seemed that Ellie was missing from her classes and in The Hole. Whether it was for talking back to a commanding officer or fighting with Bethany over Riley, who had gone missing a little while back, something was always going on with that spitfire of a girl.

Looking at the empty desk where Ellie normally sat caused a strange, crushing ache to fill Rhiannon’s chest. Punishment was normally a few days long, but it had been at least 3 weeks and there was still not a sign of Ellie nor a word spoken about her from the other staff. She made a mental note to ask Captain Kwong if he had seen her or not. Gathering her things she ushered the few stragglers from her class out into the hallway. They groaned and complained about not wanting to go to the math teacher’s block, a chorus of “It’s so boring!” and “ I don’t get it!” ringing throughout the hallway.

She ignored the protests, locking her classroom door and wiggling the handle to make sure it stayed shut, before turning to face the pack of pouting children. All three had their arms crossed across their chests, and if she wasn’t in such a hurry she was sure she could be persuaded into letting them linger within her classroom.

“No skipping in my class today,” she teased, a wry smile on her lips. “I understand your distaste for math, but if I had to suffer through it, so do you.” Once again the kids began to speak over one another, voices overlapping into one tumultuous choir. Rhiannon merely shook her head, a huff of laughter falling past her lips. With her back now turned to her students she began walking in the direction of Kwong’s office.

The sound of little voices no longer lingered behind her, and the only noise that filled the empty space was the sound of her busted-up heels click clacking across the concrete flooring and the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. The winding, twisting halls to the Captain’s office made her stomach churn with anxiety. She could barely focus on the other teachers passing by her, only sparing them a glance and tight-lipped smile. The door seemed as if it was getting farther and farther away from her, akin to the nightmares she’d have of eternal hallways, echoing voices and screams of the children in her 5th grade class as the gunshots filled the hallways, soldiers shouting, Vienna crying…Vienna…her sister crying…Ellie crying…Ellie, Ellie,El-

Rhiannon felt the dull ache in her nose before she realized what had happened. A voice cursed sharply, words going in one ear and out of the other, her head felt like it was underwater, everything was too loud and too quiet. A pair of hands gripping her shoulder snapped Rhiannon out of her haze, and she had to fight the urge to slap whoever had grabbed her. An old knee-jerk reaction she hadn’t quite gotten rid of after all this time.

“Ms. Hemingway!” Captain Kwong exclaimed, eyes scanning over her figure swiftly. He raised an eyebrow once he had assessed that she was fine, his hands resting on his hips. “I didn’t even see you there, you alright?”

Rhiannon stared blankly at him for a moment, still a bit dazed from the near panic attack and the sudden blow to the nose. She simply nodded, her nose still throbbing angrily. There was light streaming out where the office door was cracked open, and without thinking she peeked over Kwong’s shoulder to get a better look inside. There was a figure sitting in the chair in front of the captain’s desk, hoodie over their head and shoulders hunched over. For a moment, a flicker of hope ignited in her chest, whoever was sitting in that chair looked so much like Ellie that it nearly had Rhiannon fooled until they turned and she saw a strand of blonde hair and a flash of blue eyes.

Kwong must have seen the way she visibly deflated, for his lips pulled into a thin line and his eyebrows pinched. He almost looked like he pitied her. The look sent a cold chill down her spine. Something was terribly wrong.

“Captain Kwong,” she started, “have you seen-”

“No.” He cut her off, putting a hand up in a way to get her to quiet down. “That’s actually what I was coming to announce.”

Confusion laced Rhiannon’s features, and her hands began to shake as the weight of what Kwong was saying started to finally sink in. Despite where her gut was telling her, she wanted to believe that the next words to come out of the captain’s mouth were going to be Ellie’s whereabouts, but even she knew not to let herself hope anymore.

Still, she found herself asking. “What are you talking about?”

Kwong took a deep breath and crossed his arms over his chest. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, an agonizing stretch of silence filled the room before he finally spoke, voice quiet and weary.

“Ms. Hemingway, Ellie Williams is missing. Has been for..” He stopped abruptly. He knew he had said too much. Rhiannon’s racing heart stopped for a moment, a freight train of shock slamming into her so roughly that she felt as if the breath in her lungs was stolen.

“W-what?” was all she managed to croak out. “For how long?” Her words came out shaky, the lump in the back of her throat constricting her windpipe.

“I’ve got to go, pardon me” Kwong tried to push past her, but she grabbed his wrist in a death-grip before he could get too far, pulling him back to where she was standing.

“Rhiannon.” Kwong hissed from between clenched teeth. Eye glancing side to side as if he was looking for someone.

“How. Long?”

“I don’t have time for thi-”

“How long!?” Rhiannon’s grip on his wrist tightened making Kwong wince, and if she wasn’t fuming she would’ve felt bad for hurting him. “Kwong, I swear to God, how long has she-”

“Three weeks!” Kwong growled out, a grimace on his features before it melted into one of guilt and his voice softened. “She’s been gone for three weeks''

Rhiannon didn’t even notice the world was spinning until she was on the ground, Kwong’s frantic voice fading away into nothingness.

The white hot pain seizing her brain was what started to jostle the woman awake, confusion circling around her already dizzy head. Rhiannon tried to sit up, but a calloused hand gently guided her back down.

“Looks like I wasn’t the only one to get roughed up.” A distant voice said, tone laced with mirth and a tinge of pain, as if speaking hurt.

A grunt came from across the room, though it seemed to be right next to where Rhiannon lay. “Fainted at work. Hit her head on the way down, nurse said she’s lucky it wasn’t enough to warrant a concussion.”

“Hm” The other voice became clearer. Tess. “What happened? Another anxiety attack?”

Rhiannon would have laughed if her head didn’t feel like it would explode at the action. In all honesty, the attacks were becoming more frequent ever since Ellie’s disappearance, so it came as no surprise to her that Tess wasn’t more concerned.

The person beside her made no sound, but from the hum of confirmation that came from Tess’ side of the room it was clear they had simply nodded in response to her question. Rhiannon tried to sit up once more, her back beginning to ache from being flat on the hard mattress for god only knows how long. She didn’t get very far before the same hand pushed her down, a familiar voice growling softly into her ear. “Lay back down, woman. Gonna make yourself sick getting up that fast.” A broad chest settled against her back, and Rhiannon melted into the feeling of Joel against her, the smell of smoke and whiskey floating around her in a warm embrace.

“Joel..” The whine came out more pathetic than she meant it to, silently cringing at how needy she sounded.

“Hush up, Doc said you have to be careful for the next twenty-four hours.” She could feel him shake his head from his place behind her. “You ‘n Tess are gonna send me to a goddamned early grave. Can’t help but get hurt on the same day.”

“Tess is hurt?” It seemed Joel had predicted she was going to dart up again, his hand splayed out on her sternum, pressing her down to the bed. A mutter of ‘Jesus woman, quit moving’ falling from his lips.

Tess laughed softly, shaking her head. “It’s not too bad, Rhi.”

Though from what Rhiannon could see from the bed, it was bad. Tess’ eye was nearly swollen shut, face painted red, blue and green. She could see the remnants of blood from cuts that grazed the sides of Tess’ cheeks. They weren’t fresh either, so just how long ago did this happen?

“Tess that is bad, what the fuck happened to you?” At last she was allowed to sit up, with Joel's assistance of course. The hand on her chest now moved to her back, sitting just above the dip.

“Robert. Fucker ran off with our battery, his boys jumped me.” Tess sighed, looking away from the two. “But, don’t worry. Joel and I are gonna take care of it”

Rhiannon shook her head, eyes falling to her lap. Her black hair created a curtain around her face, pooling over her shoulders. The car battery that they all worked their ass off to get all to find Joel’s brother, Tommy. She wasn’t surprised that the man had pawned it off to the first person who paid him, she always got a sleazy feeling from him. But, gut feelings often go ignored when people were desperate, and they were desperate, however Rhiannon was silently wishing that Joel and Tess had taken her seriously before. Could have saved them all the trouble.

“I told you” It was petty, sure, but she did. And she was right. Again.

Tess rolled her eyes, waving a dismissing hand towards the black-haired woman. A huff that almost sounded like a laugh came from behind her. “Little miss psychic” Sarcasm dripped from his tone, but she chose to ignore it. Joel moved away from her, standing up with a groan. He stretched his arms above his head before heading over to Tess. He made a motion with his hand, and Tess turned her head to her injured side, Joel kneeled in front of her to inspect the healing bruises. A pang of jealousy shot through Rhiannon’s chest at how…soft Joel was with Tess.

She sat there in silence, just watching them. She longed for Joel to treat her the same way he treated Tess, to be cared about so gently. Sure, Joel was always there when she needed him, and she was certain he was the one to drag her back home after she fainted, but she always craved more from him. At one point in their time together, it almost seemed as if he did see her as more than a smuggling partner and housemate. But she knew better now. Joel Miller doesn’t fall in love, not with her, and not with Tess. He only had room in his barred -off heart for his brother, and his late daughter Sarah.

After a brief moment of silence, she spoke up. “So, are we going to go get that battery back? Truck isn’t any good without one, and I doubt we’ll find someone else willing to sell a working car battery” Joel paused his movements, and Tess glanced away from the woman. Rhiannon’s eyes flicked between the two in disbelief

“Don’t tell me we aren’t getting a new one.” A humorless laugh fell softly from her lips.

“We aren’t, we’re getting our battery and cards back.” Joel said. He stood up with a soft grunt, knees popping with age. “You’re not coming.” he didn’t spare her a second glance, walking into the kitchen as if her presence there meant nothing. Tess stayed silent, not wanting to get in the middle of a spat between two equally stubborn people. White-hot anger coursed through Rhiannon’s veins, this wasn’t the first time that Joel had iced her out. More times than she could count she was told to sit pretty at home, she wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t street smart, on and on. Joel always said it was to protect her, but she knew damn well he just didn’t like her, wanted to be around her less than he already had to be.

A scowl pulled at her lips, marring her face into a mask of displeasure. “Are you fucking serious?” She shouted. Her arms crossed over her chest, and although Joel wasn’t able to see it she was giving him a look so deadly one would have thought she was plotting his demise at that very moment. Fuck, she was close.

Glasses clinked together but otherwise there was silence within the kitchen. Joel was ignoring her, how adult of him. She sat waiting, tapping her foot on the ground, her teeth chewing on her lip enough to where the sharp tang of blood trickled onto her tongue. Tess shot her a sympathetic look, and despite how enraged she was, she waved the woman off. It wasn’t the her fault that Joel Fucking Miller despised her.

Joel reappeared with a glass full of whiskey, and it took everything within Rhiannon to not scream and curse the man out. So he can drop that on her and then get drunk while she’s expected to sit there and be silent? Fuck that.

The laugh that came out of her reeked of anger. Joel ignored it, looking down at his glass. She knew he could tell that she was livid, but obviously he couldn't give two shits about what she wanted.

“You always fucking do this.” She hissed.

Joel glanced towards her, eyebrow raised. His lips pulled into a thin line. Tess muttered something before getting up, groaning a bit as she did. Without another word she walked into the kitchen, leaving Joel and Rhiannon alone.

“Always do what?” That pissed her off. Did he really not see the way he treated her? The way he gave her the cold shoulder and acted like she was some pathetic stray on the side of the road? She knew he was losing his hearing, apparently he was going blind as well.

“Don’t play dumb, Joel.” Her words came out snipped. “Every single time I ask to help you guys out I’m told no, like some fucking child. I don’t need your permission.”

“Yet you listen to me.” He took a sip of his whiskey, a smirk hiding behind the amber-hazed glass.

Rhiannon’s fists shook by her sides with how hard she was clenching them. He thought he was fucking hilarious didn’t he? “Oh fuck you, Joel. That’s not the point. You and Tess aren’t the only ones in this apartment, I’m here too.” Her voice began to shake. “I know you don’t like me, I get it, but for fucks sake let me help. I’m not as useless as you think I am! Being booksmart can be helpful, and I know how to take care of myself.”

Joel snorted, the sound only fueling the flaming embers of rage in her chest. “Oh I'm sure being booksmart is very helpful, sweetheart. Bore them the death with Frankenstein, reckon the infected would enjoy that the most.”

The world spun a bit from the whiplash she gave herself, nearly toppling over as she stood on shaky legs. Joel’s eyes widened a bit before they dropped back down, expression remaining nonchalant. It took two strides before she was face to face with the man, chocolate brown clashing with forest green.

“You’ve seen what I’m capable of, Joel. Now give me one good reason you can’t let me help you.” Her brows were furrowed, the corners of her lips pulled into a deep frown, and her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She could have sworn she saw Joel’s eyes flicker to where the cut of her blouse dipped down just enough to show a hint of cleavage, but she was sure she imagined it.

“You have school. Fedra won’t take kindly to your absence.” Joel stated, a shrug following his words. He was right, being an employee of FEDRA meant she had a tighter leash on her, but that didn’t excuse the countless occasions where Tess and Joel left in the dead of night, leaving her alone in their shared bed with only the sounds of distant bombs and creaking wood to keep her company.

“What about all the other times I haven’t? Hm? ” She stepped closer to him. His expression remained stony, but anger flickered in Rhiannon’s green eyes, a burning flame that was only fanned into a wildfire the longer it took Joel to answer.

Joel grunted. “Look, it’s too dangerous for you. I get that you have your smarts, but Tess and I have more experience.” He didn’t expect the shove he got for his words, it didn’t move him much of course, being the giant man that he is, but it was still enough to startle him.

“Bullshit! I got you to Boston, I’m just as good with a gun as you are! I’m not a helpless damsel in distress, Joel. You and I both know that.”

Joel shook his head, looking down at his feet rather than at Rhiannon. His fingers came up to pinch the bridge of his nose, a long drawn out sigh falling from his lips. She could tell that he was tired of this conversation, and frankly she didn’t give a fuck. She was tired of being left behind.

“I’m not arguing with you, Rhi. You’re staying home and that’s that. Don’t be a fucking idiot and try to follow us, you’ll only cause us more trouble.”

Maybe it was the stress from earlier, or the condescending way Joel spoke to her, whichever it was it had Rhiannon shaking with a flurry of emotions. She didn’t dignify Joel with a response, shoving past him to storm out the door. Ignoring the half-assed call of her name she walked along the hallway until she reached one of the abandoned apartments. Shouldering her way inside, she closed the door behind her before promptly launching herself onto the rickety old bed that was more a mattress on the ground than anything.

Joel wouldn’t come after her, he had Tess to worry about, and the all too familiar ache in her heart replaced the one burning anger. She wished he would come crawling to her, pretend to care for her even if it was just for a moment, but as she laid there staring up at the decaying ceiling one thing made itself clear.

Just as the sky was blue, Joel Miller would always hate her.

Rhiannon shut her eyes and let the freezing hands of sleep pull her away from consciousness.

[lottiesgrl]

𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗿𝗵𝗶𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻

cw: fluff, slight angst, rhiannon is a stalker, mentions of murder, heavily inspired by @rhiannonsknife's works

rhiannon has always felt like nothing to other people. at most, she's the comic relief of the office, someone to pull the pisser any time her coworkers feel particularly cruel. but at worst? at worst, she's nothing at all. she doesn't exist to other people. she passes like a ghost through the lives of all of her colleagues, her so-called "friends", and pretty much every stranger she meets, as well.

but to you? oh, to you, she's everything.

you have no idea why people have the tendency to overlook her when she's such a ray of sunshine in your life. she brings you coffee at exactly 9:15 am on the dot, with two sugars and a little bit of cream just like you mentioned such a long time ago. you always give her a kind smile and thank her profusely, which makes her beam, as none of her coworkers even acknowledge when she does this for them (aside from, of course, when she messes it up)

it's this subtle display of affection that has rhiannon absolutely obsessed with you. i mean, why wouldn't it? you're the first person in a long time to simply acknowledge her existence, much less treat her with kindness. you always catch her staring at you when she thinks you're engulfed in your work, and she quickly sputters and pretends to be intently staring at her (not even turned on) computer screen.

god, if only you knew the extent to which she actually looked at you. if only you knew the way she sat outside your apartment, watching you intently through that one window with the curtains always pulled.

it only gets worse when you start to return the favor. you've heard her complaining nonstop about the shitty equipment she has to work with that barely works half of the time anyways, and so one day, you decide to surprise her with a whole new set of equipment, wrapped up in a pretty little bow. it takes everything in her not to burst into tears on the spot, her voice shaky as she thanks you over and over again.

every waking moment is consumed with the thought of you. the way you smile at her, the way you smell (she totally hasn't taken several items of your clothing when you were away from home), the way your eyes light up when you see her, the way you're so unapologetically yourself and people like you for it.

but no one likes you as much as she does. no one could ever come close to loving you as much as rhiannon.

after many, many weeks of not so subtly yearning for you, rhiannon finally decides to ask you out with a shy smile and the biggest bouquet of flowers you've ever seen. you ask her in concern how much they cost but she ensured you that she'd rather spend her money on you. it's such an easy yes - you'd been enamored by her for longer than you can remember. the look on her face when you say yes makes your heart flutter, her eyes wide and misty.

you'd do anything for her, and she'd do anything for you. she'd truly do anything. and you love it.

so what if that means she'd murder someone for you?

[chainsawsangel]

big spoon and little spoon changes between astarion and athena, sometimes it's astarion who's little spoon while athena takes role as big spoon. other times, it's the other way around.

just the two of them being cute. <33

[sematarygirls]

   EX-CONVICT!BABYDADDY!RAFE x FEM!READER

WARNINGS .ᐟ unprotected p in v, breeding kink if you squint, heavyyyy angst, rafe being an asshole (as per usual), brief mentions of guns/police raid and drugs

NOTES .ᐟ guys, i need him so bad, like actually. based on this concept from my silly little brain. dad!rafe stays in my mind 24/7, but this is me we're talking about, so of course, i had to put a lil spin on it. also this turned out way longer than i meant it to, woah

After almost four years, you were finally starting to feel like you were getting your shit together. You were living in a nice house in a nice neighborhood where everyone knew everyone—the kind of place where people literally asked their neighbors for cups of sugar. You had a stable job that allowed you to live comfortably and provide for yourself and your daughter, and you had a big St. Bernard, lovingly named Moonshine after you'd watched one too many episodes of Moonshiners, that provided a sense of safety and security when the nights were cold and the paranoia started to creep into your mind.

Being a single mom was not easy, and it definitely hadn't been a part of your life plan, but then, you met Rafe Cameron—the ever charming, sweet talking man that he was. He swept you up and made you feel like the only girl in the world, like nothing else mattered as long as you were by his side, so when you found out you were pregnant, you were over the moon at the idea of starting a family with him.

But Rafe Cameron was a liar. He was selfish and manipulative, and he turned your life right on it's head.

You could still remember the day the police kicked in the door of your apartment, bursting in with guns drawn, pointed directly at you. You were eight months pregnant and having a gun pointed at you—at your baby—made you physically ill.

They had raided the apartment and found copious amounts of drugs. Your heart dropped, and you immediately felt like an idiot. How had you not known? You knew he made more money than he realistically should have, but the thought never even crossed your mind that this could be the reason. You were heartbroken and angry. Angry that he had lied. Angry that he put you in this position. And, angry that he was leaving you.

Rafe was arrested, and eventually charged with possession with intent to distribute due to the amount of drugs they found, which resulted in a five year sentence. You were sad and angry, not only because you were losing the man you always thought was the love of your life, but also because now, you were alone, and your daughter wouldn't know her father for the first five years of her life.

This anger and resentment festered, mixing with longing and a deep, aching sadness. You couldn't bring yourself to answer his calls or letters, let alone visit him. You didn't know who he was anymore. The man that you saw sporting handcuffs and an orange jumpsuit at his trial was not the same man you fell in love with, and you wouldn't pretend like he was.

You had known Rafe's release date was approaching, but you were under the impression that you still had a little over a year to plan on what you were going to do when it finally came. That's why you were so unsuspecting when you went to answer the harsh knock at your door.

It was a Thursday night, and you were cuddled up on the couch with Moonshine, who was practically the size of you. A horror movie was playing on the TV before you, one you'd seen practically a million times, and every few minutes, your gaze would flicker to the baby monitor on the coffee table that displayed the feedback from a camera in your daughter, Rhiannon's, room.

You jumped a little at the harsh sound of a knock on your front door, the horror movie already having you on edge. You could be paranoid sometimes, especially being a single mom, so realistically, you knew you shouldn't have been watching it so late at night, but they were your guilty pleasures that you couldn't indulge in the light of day because of your toddler.

Moonshine immediately jumped up, a low growl escaping his throat as his hair stood on end. Your brows furrowed at his odd behavior, pausing the movie and unfurling yourself from your comfortable position. Your steps were soft on the hardwood, your socks cushioning the sound as you padded over to the front door, patting the dog's head comfortingly as you unlocked the door, completely unaware with what would greet you on the other side.

As you opened the door, the cool night air hit you, carrying with it the faint scent of cigarette smoke. You blinked in surprise, expecting to see a neighbor, but instead, you found yourself face to face with Rafe Cameron.

Your eyes widened, the air knocked from your lungs as you took him in. He was changed, broader and more imposing, his muscles flexing under his tight black t-shirt as he crossed his arms. His hair was buzzed, his chiseled jawline sporting stubble that made him look older, more mature.

He looked so different, but still, somehow, the same. You were hit by a wave of emotions—longing, love, sadness, but most presently, anger. Who did he think he was showing up unannounced in the middle of the night after all these years, especially looking so unapologetic and devastatingly handsome.

His piercing blue eyes bore into yours, captivating and dangerous like a wave pulling you under when you least expected it. "Hey, baby," he greeted, his voice low and smooth, like honey dripping off his tongue. The term of endearment fell from his lips without any semblance of warmth as he stared at you with an intensity that made you want to shrink in on yourself.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, your jaw clenching and grip on the door's edge tightening. You shivered a little as the cold air bit at your bare skin, barely registering the low growls of Moonshine behind you due to your tunnel vision on the man standing before you.

He smirked confidently, knowing the effect he had on you—the effect he always had on you. His eyebrow arched as he took in your appearance, his eyes lingering on your bare thighs, courtesy of your pajama shorts. "Aren't you going to invite me in, sweetheart? It's been a long time." He took a step forward, his broad frame filling the doorway intimidatingly.

You swallowed hard, resisting the urge to step back and let him intimidate you into getting what he wanted. You craned your neck to look up at him, his close proximity looming over you, making him seem even taller and more imposing than he already was. "And whose fault is that?" You managed to say, despite the pit in your stomach—a mix of dread, anxiety, and strangely, desire.

Rafe's gaze sharpened, his eyes glinting dangerously. He uncrossed his arms and braced one hand on the doorframe beside your head, leaning in closer. It made your breath catch in your throat, but you held firm. You couldn't let him see that he was getting to you. "Let me in," he clenched his jaw. His anger at you for abandoning him in there had been bubbling up, and your defiance was bringing it to the surface.

A light flickering on in the house across the street caught your eye. Old lady Flanigan had a habit of making everyone else's business, her business, and she was a nasty gossip. Unless you wanted people talking, you either had to let him in or get him to leave, and one of those would be a nearly impossible feat. "Rafe, you can't be here. You can't just barge back into my life after all this time," you told him firmly, your own eyes blazing with a fiery intensity.

"And why not?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. His body was practically vibrating with pent-up anger, his muscles taut as he leaned in closer, his breath fanning across your face. "Did you ever think about me? Did you ever think about what you did to us?"

"What I did?" You scoffed, anger bubbling up inside you at his accusation, blaming you as if he wasn't the one that went to prison and left you alone. "Are you fucking kidding me?" The old woman across the street was now shamelessly watching through her window, and you knew you had no choice but to let him in before her nosey ass called the cops on the strange, clearly out of place man lurking in the neighborhood.

He followed your eyes, looking over his shoulder to the nosy neighbor, his expression darkening. Without another word, he pushed past you, entering the house and forcing you to step back.

Your jaw clenched at his blatant disregard or respect for your wishes as you gently closed the door behind you. Moonshine barked, baring his teeth at the intruder, clearly sensing the tension and jumping into action to protect his family. "Moonshine, stop," you told him firmly. You were proud of him, but you didn't want his barking to wake Rhiannon. The last thing you could deal with right now was Rafe and a crying toddler. You could only focus on one temper tantrum at a time.

Rafe's eyes narrowed as he watched you control your dog, a muscle ticking in his jaw. His gaze then swept the interior of your home, taking in every detail as if memorizing it. "Nice place," he commented flatly, turning back to face you. "Where's my kid?"

You took a deep breath, your gaze hard at him calling your daughter his kid, like he had any right. He didn't even know her name or that she was a girl. "She's asleep," you told him, crossing your arms over your chest.

His piercing eyes bore into yours, unyielding. "Her name." he demanded gruffly.

"Rhiannon," you informed him hesitantly, your gaze darting to the monitor on the coffee table, making sure she was still asleep.

His expression flickered briefly, a flash of something softer, almost vulnerable, in his eyes before it was quickly concealed. He nodded once. "I want to see her." It wasn't a request. His posture remained tense and coiled, ready to react to your response.

You huffed, running a hand through your hair and heading to the kitchen with him hot on your heels. Maybe you wanted to busy yourself. Maybe you wanted an excuse not to have to look at him. Maybe you just wanted to walk away from him, to assert some kind of power. Either way, your next words were spoken with your back to him. "I told you. She's asleep. It's the middle of the fucking night, Rafe, what did you expect?"

He followed you into the kitchen, his presence overwhelming in the small space. The air felt charged, thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. "I don't give a fuck what time it is," he growled, his voice low and intense. "I've missed four years of her life already."

You rounded the kitchen island, planting your hands on it as you turned to face him, feeling more comfortable with the counter between you. Not because you were scared of him but because, despite yourself and despite your anger, you longed to touch him and have him touch you. "And whose fucking fault is that, huh?" You asked angrily, echoing your earlier words that he had ignored.

Rafe's expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he stared back at you. The muscle in his jaw clenched as he ground his teeth together, trying to rein in his anger. "Yours," he bit out. "You left me in there," he accused.

"You left me out here!" Your voice raised slightly before you caught yourself, letting out a hard breath. The only way you could keep yourself from getting sad, from crying over the loss of the only man you'd ever truly loved, was getting angry at him.

"You think I wanted to go to prison?" He hissed, rounding the island and backing you against the counter. "You think I had a fucking choice?"

"You did have a choice," you said sharply, bracing your hands on the counter behind you as you stared up at him. "You chose to deal drugs, and you chose to keep dealing even after you found out I was pregnant. Prison was just the consequence of all your shitty choices."

His hand came up, slamming on the cabinet beside your head, the sound making you jump slightly. "And what about you?" He seethed, his chest heaving as his breath came in short, angry bursts. "What about your choices, huh? You could've waited for me."

"I did what I had to do," you said, glaring at him. You weren't quite sure what else to say. You had to protect yourself, your own feelings, and your child. You couldn't have stayed in touch, sick with worry every night while you soothed a colicky baby all by yourself. You had to forget him; it was better that way, easier.

"What you had to do," he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm and the faintest hint of hurt. "You moved on pretty quick, didn't you? Found some new dick to warm your bed, is that it?"

"Fuck you," you spat, the words stabbing you like a knife to the heart. You hadn't been able to bring yourself to even look at another man since he went away. You told yourself it was just because of Rhiannon, that you were focusing on raising her and being the best mother you could be, but deep down, you knew it was because your heart would always belong to Rafe.

"Is that it?" he repeated, his face inches from yours. His voice was low, his eyes searching yours for something. "You found some other man to replace me?"

"Maybe I have," you said stubbornly. You knew you were being petty, wanting him to hurt like you hurt, but you also knew you were a shit liar, so there was no way in hell he would actually believe you. "Maybe I have moved on."

His other hand shot out, gripping your chin roughly as he forced you to look at him. "Bullshit," he growled, looking down at you, his blue eyes darkened. "I can see it in your eyes. You haven't moved on to shit."

You stared up at him defiantly, your chest heaving with anger, which only intensified when you felt the wetness between your thighs. Even after all this time, all it took was a look and a simple touch to get you so wet, and as much as you hated it, you couldn't deny that something about his post-prison appearance—how rugged and large he was—made your knees week.

His hand tightened on your chin as he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a brutal, demanding kiss. It was clear he was angry, punishing you for the words you'd spoken, and you knew you should've pushed him away—yelled at him and told him to get the fuck out of your house—but you didn't.

Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you kissed him with an intensity that matched the war going on within you—the jumbled mess of love and hate that he had brought up within you.

He groaned into the kiss, his hands gripping your face roughly as he devoured your mouth. He pushed you further back against the counter that was now digging into your lower back, his body pinning you in place. You could feel his anger, his frustration, his desperation, and it only fueled your own emotions.

The kiss was raw and charged with a passionate mix of need, longing, and pure, unbridled anger, both of you trying to show the other that this wasn't a surrender of power or giving into the other and accepting blame. The kiss itself was an argument, a fight all of its own that didn't require words.

He hands went to your hips, lifting you onto the counter and stepping between your parted legs. Tearing his mouth from yours, he began kissing along your jawline and down the column of your throat. His lips were hot and insistent, his teeth nipping at your skin as he continued to mark you.

You panted, your chest heaving for an entirely different reason now as you let out soft gasps and breathy sounds of approval, your head falling back against the cabinet behind your head. You had forgotten how good he was with his mouth, always knowing exactly how to drive you wild.

He took advantage of the exposed column of your throat, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the counter. You let out a low moan, your nails raking against his buzzed scalp. As sexy as he looked with a buzzcut, you wished you could run your fingers through his hair, tugging on it slightly everytime he touched you just right.

"Mmm," he hummed against your skin, his voice a low vibration that seemed to go straight to your core. He kissed his way back up to your mouth, his hips pushing forward to press his hardness against your core. "Did you forget how good I am, baby?"

You internally rolled your eyes at his cocky tone, like he had won. "God, do you ever shut up?" You asked, sounding less annoyed and effective since you were still breathless from his kisses.

His hips thrust forward again, making an involuntary whine fall from your lips at the feeling. "Not when I'm right." He smirked, his eyes crinkling at the corners. His smirk was as frustratingly handsome as it had always been, and it made you want to smack him and kiss him all at once. "And I am."

"Don't be a dickhead," you glared at him, his arrogance and your own unyielding need for him only heightening your frustration. You were desperate and aching for him, but you refused to give in and beg him like you wanted to.

"Then quit acting like you're not soaking wet for me." His grip on your thighs tightened, calloused fingers digging into the soft flesh. "I bet if I slipped my hand into your shorts, I'd find you drenched and ready for me, wouldn't I?"

His smug tone infuriated you and turned you on all at once. "Shut up, Rafe," you demanded, balling your fist into the fabric of his shirt and pulling him closer, so you could press your lips to his, forcing him to shut up and quit pissing you off.

Your grip on his shirt loosened, hand sliding down his hard, muscular chest to his waistband. You had always seen the trope of guys working out their frustrations in prison movies, but you didn't know that was actually a thing. Your fingers fumbled with his belt as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, sliding it along yours in a way that had you moaning against his lips

He groaned low in his throat as you finally worked the belt buckle open, sliding the leather through the loops and dropping it to the floor with a clank. His hands immediately slid up your thighs, hooking into the waistband of your shorts and pulling them down your legs—with the help of you awkwardly shifting to lift your ass enough to do so.

He discarded the garments to the floor with his belt, his palms running along your bare thighs as he parted your legs wider, opening you to him. His calloused fingertips brushed against your center, feeling your slick folds, making you gasp into his mouth. "Told you," he grinned against your lips, finding it in himself to be a complete dick, even when he was about to be inside you.

"Asshole," you mumbled, fingers deftly popping open the button of his jeans and unzipping them. You hooked your fingers in his waistband, shoving his pants and underwear down as he had done to you.

He kicked his pants and boxers off the rest of the way, stepping between your thighs again. His hard cock was flushed, the tip glistening with precum. He gripped himself at the base, rubbing the head through your slick folds teasingly. "What was that, baby?"

Your breath caught in your throat. "Just put your dick inside me before I kill you," you threatened him, though you both knew you wouldn't do anything, not really.

He chuckled lowly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "You want it so bad, don't you?" He teased, his tip nudging against your entrance but not pushing inside. "Beg for it, baby. Let me hear how much you need my cock." He didn't need to be angry when he could punish you like this. He knew begging was the last thing you wanted to do, but he also knew that you'd do it.

"Don't piss me off right now, Rafe," you gritted your teeth, the feeling of him against your entrance making you dizzy with desire.

"Or what, baby? You'll what?" He pressed against you again, the tip of his cock pushing inside just slightly before pulling back out. "Tell me what you'll do if I don't give you what you want." He was pushing your buttons, knowing exactly how to make you snap.

You practically whimpered at the feeling of him pulling out. "Fuck- fine, please, Rafe," you panted, furious with yourself and him that you were giving into him. "Please just fuck me already."

The confident, victorious smirk that instantly appeared on his face had you wanting to slap him. "Now was that so hard?" He condescend. Your annoyed retort died in your throat as he finally pushed into you, making you moan, your head falling back against the cupboard at the feeling of him inside you after so long.

He groaned as your tight heat enveloped him, his fingers digging into your thighs hard enough to bruise as he started to move. His body tensed, using every ounce of his self control not to cum on the spot. Four years of fucking himself in his hand was nothing compared to the way you were squeezing him right now.

One hand moved up to your mouth, muffling your growing moans and whines. "Shh," he cooed. You were thankful for it. You knew you had to be quiet, but the way he was pounding into you made it nearly impossible.

"Did you miss me, baby?" He leaned down, breathing hotly against your neck as he nipped at your throat. "Did you lay awake at night thinking about me stretching you like this?" He flexed his hips, driving deep inside you.

You nodded, letting out a muffled "mhm" against his palm as your back arched into him. He felt so good, better than you'd remembered, and you hadn't had sex in four years, so you were so worked up.

"Good," he purred, his teeth scraping against your skin as he continued to pound into you relentlessly. "Because I missed you too, baby. Missed this tight little cunt wrapped around my dick." The hand on your thigh dipped down between your legs, his calloused thumb rubbing circles on your clit.

You gasped against his palm, your eyes rolling back at the mix of sensations. You were already so pathetically close, feeling that familiar aching deep within you.

He could feel your weepy cunt starting to flutter around him, and he was more than glad that you were so close so quickly because he didn't know how much longer he could hold back. "Gonna cum inside this pretty little pussy, baby. Gonna get you pregnant again, and this time I'm not gonna miss a damn thing"

His words turned you on more than they should have, snapping that coil inside you and sending you over the edge. You tensed around his dick, feeling your orgasm wash over you as you cried out his name.

"Shit, baby," he groaned, burying his face into your neck, his facial hair tickling your skin as he pushed himself deep inside you, painting your insides white with his release. His breath was hot against your already heated skin, a thin layer of sweat coating both your bodies as he slowly softened inside you.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you tried to catch your breath, his hand falling from your mouth to brace himself on the counter. You couldn't believe that after all these years of promising yourself you wouldn't let him back into your life, you had so easily opened your legs and even let him cum inside you—because clearly that worked out so well for you last time.

He stayed buried inside you for a moment, enjoying the warmth and the feeling of finally being home where he belonged. He eventually pulled out, his softening dick slipping from your tender cunt.

You had to tell him that he couldn't stay, that it would confuse Rhiannon to wake up to a strange man in the house, but you didn't know how, not after what just happened.

He stepped back, allowing you to get down from the counter. A silence fell over both of you as you got dressed, neither one knowing what happens now. He finished buttoning up his jeans, his eyes flicking up to you as he ran a hand over his buzzed head. "So... what now?" He asked gruffly, breaking the silence.

"You can't- you have to go," you told him, pulling your shorts back up and crossing your arms. It seemed unfair to say such a thing after sharing such an intimate moment, but you needed to think of your daughter. She didn't even know who Rafe was.

"You're kicking me out?" He echoed, as if he couldn't believe it. "After... that?" He gestured vaguely, a muscle in his jaw ticking.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, both of you finding yourselves right back where you started. "You cant just... be here. Rhiannon doesn't even know who you are." The words seemed cruel as soon as they left your lips, but they were true. You wished they weren't, but they were.

"I know. Fuck, I know that. Don't you think I know that?" He was frustrated, your words like a slap to the face. "But goddamn it, I want to know her. I want to be a part of her life."

"I'm not saying you can't be, but... she's four, Rafe. She's old enough that you can't just walk in and call yourself her father," you told him firmly. "It's going to take time. I don't want to overwhelm her."

"Time?" He asked incredulously. Deep down, he knew you were right, that you were doing what was best, but he was so angry at himself, and instead of facing that anger and acknowledging that this was his own doing, he was taking it out on you. "I've already missed four fucking years. First steps, first words, first everythings."

"I can't keep going in circles with you, Rafe," you ran your hand through your hair, utterly exhausted. "You do this my way, or you don't do this at all." It hurt you to be so cold. You wanted Rhiannon to know her father, but she was just a kid. She wouldn't understand why her dad just showed up out of the blue, and you didn't know how to explain it to her.

He stared at you, his face unreadable. For a long moment, neither of you said anything. Then, he spoke, his voice low. "Alright. Fine. Your way. But you better not shut me out again. I'm not gonna miss anymore. Understand?"

You nodded, thankful that he was going to stop fighting you on this. "Do you have a-a number or something?" You asked, unsure how long he'd been out, if he got his phone back and was able to pay the bill or if he bought a burner. You didn't even know where he was staying.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "It's the same as my old one," he said gruffly, clearly annoyed by your previous ultimatum.

"Right, okay," you nodded, your fingers drumming against your upper arm. You two stood in silence for a long moment. Rafe didn't want to leave, and you didn't want to tell him to.

Rafe's gaze fell to the floor, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. "Can I see her before I go?" He asked softly. "Just... just to see her."

There was a shift in his demeanor, a vulnerability about him that told you he really did care about Rhiannon, even if he'd never met her. "Yeah," you found yourself nodding, turning to lead him to her room. As you entered the living room, you could've sworn Moonshine was giving a disapproving side eye. "Don't judge me," you mumbled.

He followed you down the hallway, his heavy boots thudding on the floor. He paused in the doorway of Rhiannon's room, looking in on her sleeping form. She was curled up on her side in a princess toddler bed, her little arms wrapped around a stuffed cat. Rafe's expression softened as he took her in.

His eyes swept over the room, the nightlight plugged into the wall illuminating the space. The walls were painted a light shade of pink, toys strewn about. A small bookshelf sat tucked in the corner, various children's books inside, some sitting on the floor in front of it.

He stepped into the room, moving closer to the bed. He crouched down, his eyes fixed on Rhiannon's sleeping face as he reached out, his large hand gentle as he brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. "She's so little," he murmured softly, almost reverently.

You leaned on the doorway, a small, sad smile pulling at your lips as you watched the exchange. You found yourself wondering what life would have been like if Rafe never got locked up, your heart aching as you thought about sharing all of Rhiannon's firsts with someone, bickering over whether she would've said mommy or daddy first. The wobbly first steps, the soothing and band-aid applications after she scraped her knees. What would it have been like to share those moments with him?

Rafe's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "She's beautiful." He turned his head to look at you, and you saw the sheen of moisture in his eyes. He blinked it away quickly, clearing his throat as he stood, masking his emotions as he always had. "I should go."

You hesitated, for a moment wanting to throw everything you'd said out the window and tell him to stay, but you knew you couldn't. You just nodded, letting him push past you. You didn't move from your spot, even after you heard the front door open and shut. You simply closed your eyes, leaning your head against the doorframe as a few tears rolled down your cheeks.

[scorpioriesling]

Tight Black Leathers

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Liam x reader

Warnings: SMUT, mdni, 18+

Summary: As Liam's girlfriend, you've been feeling rather... fed up, lately, that he's been ordered to hang out all day with another female. So... whatever will you do about it?

SR’s Note: Ooh, switching it up with a Fourth Wing fic? Okay, okay... and yes of course, Liam is my favorite character from Fourth Wing. No, I still haven't recovered. No, I probably never will. Denial is a river in Egypt-

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

You clicked the power button on your phone once more, checking fruitlessly to see if your boyfriend had responded to your message. Of course, he hadn't -- but you'd expected as much. It was Friday, which meant he was on Violet-duty today, per usual.

With a sigh, you tucked the device into your pocket, zipping it shut as a familiar voice approached behind you.

"Hey Y/N!" Rhiannon's usual bubbly tone made you smile, and she took in your state. Her face softened as she took you in a warm embrace. You appreciated the kindness she offered you -- her friendship was a priceless one you'd made after crossing the parapet. She was one of the only people, other than your boyfriend, who truly understood how hard it was to be a rider when you were meant your whole life to be a healer instead.

"Still haven't heard from him?" She asks softly, releasing you. You shake your head, and she loops her arm through yours, pulling you with her in a cadence down the dormitory hallway.

"Well, there's no point in waiting around doing nothing," she starts. "We may as well have some lunch, hmm?" As if on cue, your stomach gurgles, and you both chuckle at the sound. You truly couldn't be more grateful -- you hadn't eaten all morning.

Entering the cafeteria, you find your squad -- well, most of them. Imogene's unmissable pink hair shakes back and forth as she listens to a ridiculous story Ridoc recounts; Sawyer is laughing at something Bodhi is saying across the table. You can't help but wonder...

"Hey guys!" Ridoc greets Rhiannon and you with a smile, but you only continue to search the tables near you. Imogene folds her arms over her chest, sitting back in her chair.

"He's not here," she says, and you look to her. Rhiannon takes a seat, motioning for you to sit by her, but you only stare at Imogene in hopes she'll keep talking. "Violet took the lunch break to get in extra training time, so-"

You squeeze your eyes shut, head dropping to face the floor. You'd been missing him so much recently, since Xaden assigned him to follow your fellow cadet around like a guardian, you barely saw him anymore. Your own boyfriend. He was spending time with another female. That was really starting to get old.

"Of course." You clip. Ridoc huffs a laugh, and Rhiannon glares at him.

"He's only doing what Xaden tells him-" Bodhi begins, and your eyes slide to his.

"Anymore, I don't really care what Xaden-" Your rage begins to bubble over, and the table falls silent as their gazes drift behind you. Shadows curl around your fists, the cool tendrils working against your warmed skin.

"Care what Xaden... what, exactly? As your Wingleader, I would love to hear you finish that sentence, Y/N." Xaden's lethally calm voice sounds from behind you, and you glance over your shoulder, face falling at the realization. You shake your head.

"I... it's... look, I just think it's a bit much to have Liam following Violet around all day, don't you think? Can't she defend herself?" You ask. His hard gaze on you only intensifies.

"I would say Liam is one of the strongest in this wing, wouldn't you agree?" He asks, and you nod.

"Yes, but-"

"So he will continue to defend what's most precious to me." He says in finality, turning to walk away as you scoff, throwing your hands in the air.

"What about what's most precious to me, huh? I never get to see him anymore because you're always having him whisked away to defend your girlfriend -- isn't that your job!?" You nearly shout. The entire room goes silent, and Bodhi slaps a hand over his mouth. Rhiannon's jaw is practically on the floor, but your eyes are only met with Xaden's searing gaze as he turns to face you once more. He steps close to you, speaking again in his constrained, calm voice.

"I highly suggest you take the rest of the afternoon off, cadet y/l/n. You seem a bit high strung -- wouldn't want you too worked up for the challenges later this evening." The muscle in his jaw ticks as you turn on your heel, beelining for the exit and stomping all the way back to your dorm room.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You know what? Xaden was right. The afternoon off was exactly what you needed before a night full of challenges. You spent the whole afternoon getting yourself more riled up within the confines of your dorm, pacing back and forth and glaring into your mirror. Did you nap? Nope. Try to calm down, do some meditation, maybe? Absolutely not. Perhaps stretch, or read a book so you were at ease before the night began then. Hell no.

You were ripping a brush through your long hair, slamming it down on your desk when you decided the strands were untangled enough. You yanked at the band around your wrist, muscle memory causing your hands to wind your hair into a ponytail atop your head when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. You glance down at your phone still dark on your desk, and an idea sparks in your mind. Dropping your hands, you run them through the strands a few times before separating the mass into three sections. Since he likes the Sorrengail so damn bad, you thought. Maybe you'd show him you she wasn't anything special. She was just like everyone else here; she was just like you.

Securing the band at the base of the tight braid, you sway side to side, pleased with the result. Pulling on your tightest-fitting leathers and boots, you sheath your finest daggers and head out of your room. Within minutes, you've crossed the courtyard and are in the training center, approaching a mat near the center where you find Ridoc and Bodhi and Rhiannon gathered. Rhiannon turns when Ridoc whistles loudly at you. You lighten your steps on instinct, realizing you're still stomping your way across the mats toward them.

"Ohhhh my, Y/N," she looks you up and down, taking you in fully. You huff a breath, pretending not to notice her stare. Or Ridoc's. Or Bodhi's. Or Violet's...

Or Liam's. From three mats over.

"New tactic?" Ridoc laughs, and you roll your eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Uhhh, distracting your opponent with the tightest black fighting leathers you could find?" Rhiannon giggles, and you scoff, feigning innocence. Bodhi only groans.

"CADETS, attention please!" Emmetario shouts. He stalks closer to the mat you stand before, calling off more pairs for challenges. You and your friends watch as people fight and wrestle match after match. Rhiannon wins her challenge, Ridoc hands Jack Barlowe's ass to him, and your attention snags on the mat a few feet away as a new pairing is called forth. Your perfect, wonderful boyfriend is taking the mat, shucking off his tee and revealing his perfectly toned body, abdominals flexing as he laughs at something Xaden says. He takes a fighting stance as another guy from third wing stands opposite him, and they begin. It's not long before Liam has the poor fella on the floor, tapping out. Being the kind male he is, Liam hops off and helps him up, shaking his hand and offering him a kind smile after they finish their challenge.

As he is exiting the mat, his eyes meet yours and widen slightly, raking over your body as he slowly steps off the platform. They linger on the straps clinging to the curve of your ass, then trail back up to the form-fitting compression shirt you've chosen and his brows knit in confusion when he notices your new hairstyle. You tilt your chin up and flip your hair over your shoulder, just as Emmetario bellows once more.

"Bodhi and Y/N!"

You walk onto the mat, Rhiannon cheering from the sidelines. Bodhi looks to you in silent apology, and you position yourself close to your friend, taking your beginning stance. You can see the worry in his expression, and you glance to your left as Liam, Violet, and Xaden flank the edge of the mat to observe as well.

"Bodhi, it's alright. I know you won't hurt me for real," You say. He grins at you.

"Never." Is all he says, taking his beginning position, not-so-subtly drinking in your form so close to his. You smirk.

"Begin!" Emmetario calls. Bodhi immediately lunges for you, but you're quick and dodge his advance, and he stumbles forward -- you've trained with him countless times, you knew he'd make the first move. You snake to the side, wrapping your arms around his midsection and using your whole body weight to throw yourselves both to the ground. You cry out as you land on your own elbow, and he tries to roll you onto your back. You dig your heels into the ground, fighting with all your strength to stay to the side of him and not let him get on top. He's stronger though, flipping you with his hands around your knees. You plant both feet in his ribs, knocking into him with as much force as you can muster and he falls back with a sharp cry.

The growing crowd winces and you jump to your feet once more, him following suit and clutching his side only for a moment before charging you once more. You crouch; but you're too slow this time. In seconds, his hands wrap around your waist and your thrown over his shoulder, hands smacking against his back.

You know what comes next -- this is the part where your opponent will throw you onto the mat, onto your back, knocking the wind out of you. You won't let that happen; not tonight. You tap into the rage you felt, all day, all week, and unleash it, feeling every feeling all over again.

Anger. You push against Bodhi, his hands losing grip and you tumbling haphazardly down his back. "Keep pushing, Y/N!" Rhiannon shouts.

Hate. You turn, Bodhi's still doubled over. Now's your chance. You run, jump, cling onto him, grabbing his neck and wrapping your legs around his waist-

Jealousy. It was a ploy. He whips you around, throwing you to the mat, hard. You shriek, breath catching in your throat as he holds you down with his forearm. He gazes down at you, his familiar friendly orbs glowing with warmth as he shifts uncomfortably above you.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Y/N, but... I'll be damned if anyone ever climbs me like a fuckin' tree-" the words die in his throat as your red-hot emotions dissipate, laughter rising and breaking free past your lips as he chuckles along with you.

"I don't care! I said she's done!" The sharp tone has your gaze turning to the left, the crowd making way as Emmetario calls after the tall male entering the mat and heading straight for you. In seconds, Bodhi's weight is completely lifted off of you and you suck in a breath of full, delightful air.

"Yep, and you can stay the fuck off of her, thank you very much," Liam gripes, bending down to grasp both of your hands in his and pull you up. You gasp as pain blooms in your back, and he begins leading you off the mat, away from the crowd. Toward the exit.

"Liam... Liam... I didn't tap out; my challenge wasn't over-" you stutter. He turns, his raging blue eyes narrowed on you. Yours widened in shock as you register an emotion so rare, especially for him you almost missed it.

Sadness.

"Trust me. It was over."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

"Liam, it's only a bruise, it'll be healed in a few-"

"He shouldn't have been man-handling you like that."

You stare at him, pacing back and forth in your dorm room from the bed where you sit. He half carried you back here a half hour ago, ending your challenge early and ignoring orders from a professor in the process. Now he seemed all worked up over your injuries, which were rather minor, at that.

"Like what, exactly? Liam, I've trained with Bodhi a million times. I know he would never hurt me. Not for real, anyways." You say, and Liam meets your gaze. His deep blue eyes are as dark as the midnight sea, only illuminated by the candle lights in your room. He chews on his bottom lip, halting his pacing.

"He trains with you?" He asks quietly. You scoff incredulously, fiddling with the band at the end of your braid and loosening the strands.

"Yeah? He's my friend, Liam. I have to have someone to spar with, right? It's not like my boyfriend is exactly... available..." you trail off, casting your eyes toward the floor. You finish undoing your braid, the strands hanging in loose waves over your shoulders. His brows knot in confusion.

"Y/N, what are you... what do you mean?" he walks close, kneeling before you, placing his hands on your knees. His face is level with yours, and Gods damn you if you don't want to kiss him-

"You know I'm always here for you Y/N..." he says softly. You meet his gaze, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth to keep it from quivering.

"Liam... I barely even see you anymore." Oh boy, here we go. "You always have to be with... with Violet... and if I do see you, it's never in our own privacy... I never just get you alone, to myself..." you trail off. He presses a soft kiss to your knee, and you praise yourself for changing into shorts and one of his big shirts when you returned earlier.

"Baby... you know I just have to hang out with Violet for now, just because of all the attacks and such, but," he places another soft kiss further up your thigh, and you feel your pulse quickening by the second. "...you have me alone... right now, right?" He asks sweetly, his eyes meeting yours again. You lean back on your elbows, and though his tone is sweet, the lust swirling in his irises tells a different story. You nod wordlessly, and he continues moving up your body, softly pushing up the hem of your shirt with his fingertips. His eyes remain in contact with your as he plants soft kisses up your abdomen, the muscles flexing as you fight to remain calm under his searing touch.

He pulls back, lips curing into a wicked grin as his eyes waver to your waistband, and he hooks a finger under the seam.

"If you wanted to be... man-handled... you could have just... asked." He says, your eyes widening at his words. Heat pools between your thighs, the incessant need for your boyfriend to ravage you only growing with every passing second he teases you. He chuckles, slipping a hand beneath the bands of both your shorts and underwear and wasting no time sliding a finger through your folds, easily gliding through the slickness. His lusting gaze meets yours again, and his free hand pushes himself closer to you on the bed.

"Mmm... you really have been missing me, haven't you?" You nod, looking up at him doe-eyed and innocent. He shakes his head, cupping your jaw and running a thumb over your lower lip while continuing to tease your leaking heat with his other hand.

"Such a good girl... I haven't been around as much as I should, have I." He says it more to himself, his forefinger circling your entrance and you rock your hips forward, aching for more.

"I haven't been as good of a boyfriend lately, and I'm sorry for that, okay?" He cups your cheek, and you meet his gaze.

"Liam... please..." you beg.

"Let me make it up to you?" He asks. Your nod of confirmation is all he needs as he slips both his index and middle fingers in -- knuckles deep. You gasp, jolting forward a bit and he pulls out, reinserting and driving them back in again. You bite out a moan, leaning back on your hands and looking up into his eyes. He's smirking down at you, drinking in every inch of your complexion as he massages that spongy spot inside of you.

"Liam..." you chant. "Liam, oh... my..... please-" He rises from his knees on the floor, continuing to curl his fingers inside you, to hover over you. He cuts off your whimpers with a beautiful, bruising kiss that is both sloppy and salivating. A mix of tongue and teeth clash as you make out with a primal need, his teeth finding your swollen bottom lip and playfully latching on. You groan once more, feeling the warm band in your stomach tightening.

"Gods I'm... I'm so-" Liam retracts his fingers and you groan, his lips finding yours again. He shucks his trousers off, kicking his boots off moments later. He breaks the kiss, yanking his shirt over his head and pulling yours off after, your bottoms following. Laying bare before him, he breathes deep, loosing his breath through the nose as he hovers overtop of your naked form.

"Y/N, you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen," he says sweetly. You blush, even though this is the hundredth time you've had sex with the man and probably the hundred millionth time he's called you pretty. You feel his hard on grounding against you, and you wiggle your hips, only creating more friction. Liams hand meets your hip, holding firm.

"Tsk tsk," he says, kissing your nose. His hand snakes between the two of you, his knuckles brushing against your pelvis making you shiver. His fingers wrap around the length of his cock and stroke a few times as he inches closer, and when the head finally makes contact with your dripping core, you whimper.

"Li... please..." He flashes you a devilish grin, his cute dimple warming your heart as your hands find their way to his built shoulders atop you.

"Since you asked so nicely," he says lowly, and pushes into you. You suck in a breath, the small stretch increasingly painful as he continues to push in, inch by delicious inch. The pleasure courses through you when he is finally fully sheathed inside of you, a growl escaping his throat as his hips retract and slam back in with immeasurable force.

"LIAM-" You shout. He pulls his hips back again, only pulling out half way as he continues to pound into you relentlessly, relishing in every breathless moan and scream of his name he can pull from your perfect lips.

"So tight, baby.... my gorgeous, gorgeous girl," he praises. Your hands slide down his tones arms, and the calloused fingers on one of his hands thread through your delicate ones, holding them to the mattress above your head. His breath comes out in short pants, and you let out a particularly sharp gasp.

"Ugh, fuck Liam; just like that," you breathe. His fingers let go of yours and wrap around your lower back, pulling you flush against his chest. HIs pace quickens as your breasts bounce with every quick thrust he delivers.

"You feel so good, Y/N," he says between breaths. His soft grunts almost send you over the edge, the new pace and angle spurring the impending orgasm from within. His warm breath tickles your neck, and his lips find your cheek, placing a single kiss as he continues to savagely thrust into you. "So perfect..." he whimpers.

You can't hold it together long enough to warn him this time as you fly over the edge, your orgasm barreling through you. You cry out, hands tugging on the ends of Liam's hair as your walls squeeze around his throbbing cock that hasn't yet slowed, riding you through your high. Your thighs start to shake, and Liam's mouth drops open as his eyes meet yours once more.

"Oh fuck, Y/N-" he jolts, releasing inside of your pulsing core as his movements begin to slow. Your combined ragged breaths are the only sounds filling the room, and his fingers trace the curve of your collarbone as his eyes lovingly gaze into yours again. You offer him a soft smile in your fucked-out state and he chuckles, slowly slipping out of you and retrieving a cloth from your desk. You move to take it from him, but per usual, he insists on cleaning you up himself.

Ahh, the gentleman he is.

He returns from tossing the cloth in the wastebasket, and you pull his big tee over your head for the second time today. He frowns at you, and shrugs, reaching for his pants and pulling them back up over his hips. He takes the spot on the bed next to you, propping up on an elbow to stare down upon you.

"I meant it," he starts, and you sigh.

"Liam-"

"Really, Y/N. I know its shitty that I have to always hang around with Violet. I know it sucks that it means I have less time with you. And... and I know it isn't your favorite thing. It isn't mine either." He says, taking a strand of your hair and twirling it around his index finger before letting it fall, and going for another piece.

"I know this, and I still listen to Xaden's orders. I know that doesn't make me a very good boyfriend, and I need to do better." He says in finality with a nod. "I'll talk to Xaden in the morning about it." You lean up off the bed, planting your lips on his. His hands cradle the back of your head, kissing you back with all the love he has to give. When you pull away, you know that no matter what, no matter how much or how little time you have together, there's no changing the connection the two of you share.

"Liam, I don't think I could find a better boyfriend than the one laying next to me in this very moment. You're as good as they get, my love."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

[jjmaybvnk]

JJ was unfortunately too far down the hall to stop the incident from occurring, but he had witnessed it, his face twisting with anger. He could handle the bullying when it was directed at him, but the second anyone came for his friends, that's when he'd do something that risked expulsion. Still, checking in was more important than revenge right now, so he made his way over, kneeling down and helping Rhi gather the last of her things from the floor. "I swear, when I catch him, he's gonna' get the beat down of his life. I'm goin' right for this throat. --- You okay though?"

Rhiannon often felt as if she were invisible, but today, apparently she really was. Someone slammed into her in the school hallway, Rhi too startled to recognise who, sending her stumbling backwards and her books crashing to the floor. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she waited a moment before kneeling, beginning to collect her belongings.

[shaunamilfman]

Dating Rhiannon Lewis HC's

pairing: Rhiannon Lewis x reader note: she's my pathetic, desperate, clingy gf so get your own.

Throws out an ily on the third date and tries so pathetically hard to play it off. “I love youR SHIRT. It's such a nice shirt.” Before running off to the bathroom to hide. She's so smooth. Pacing back and forth in front of the mirror for ten minutes before she manages to gather enough courage to come back to you and pretend nothing happened.

Keeps score of who’s texting who first and how often. It doesn’t stop her from still texting first, though.

Cannot ever get her hands out of your hair. She's so fucking gentle about it, caressing your hair and gently scratching at your scalp with her nails. Won't go near your hair on her bad days. Running her fingers along the back of your neck instead of your scalp. Fingers flexing like she wants to touch it but won't. Just doesn't trust herself not to hurt you. 

Always makes the house so fucking cold when you sleep over so you're forced to cuddle with her for warmth. Her ass is running around the whole house opening windows and creating drafts in the twenty minutes she has in between your text and when you arrive. Oh, also, all the blankets are in the wash but hers. So sad, guess you'll just have to share. Mysteriously, all of your long-sleeve shirts have disappeared too. Weird. 

Makes you do those stupid couple quizzes in magazines.

Rhiannon “We have food at home” Lewis. Once the initial excitement about having people to go out with dies down, she comes to an important realization: the more the two of you are out, the more you're exposed to dating options that aren't her. That's just not allowed. Doing anything and everything she can to keep you at home short of telling you to get your ass back inside. 

God forbid you try to go out somewhere without her. Why would you need to go see your friends while she's stuck late at work? Who's going to walk with her to the bus station? She starts asking so many questions about it, sounding so hurt that you eventually cave and don’t go. It’s not blatant manipulation, not when it’s you, but it’s usually enough to have you rethinking the whole thing anyway.

So jealous, but won’t directly say anything about it. Just starts holding onto your hand tightly with this strained look on her face.

She always misplaces your things when you're going out, or just if it suits her better. Your car keys? She hasn't seen them. The shirt you were going to wear that she doesn't much care for? You probably lost it. Here, she found her personal favorite of your shirts, though. You’ll find the other shirt mysteriously hung back up neatly in your closet the next day, like nothing ever happened.

Rhiannon wearing your shirts when she knows you're looking for them to entice you to stay home. Laying back on the bed, pouting up at you. Long sleeves that her hands just barely peek out of. “What, are you looking for this?” Making you give her a kiss if you want your shirt back to go to work. Maybe even two if she’s feeling greedy.

Tries to fix all your problems for you the second you mention them to her.

So incredibly clingy. If you're with her, you're with her. Sitting on the counter, talking to you while you cook or while you take a shower. You step out, and she's holding the towel out for you. Makes a show of breathing hot hair on it and pretends she was keeping it warm for you. You wake up every time with all four of her limbs wrapped around you, no matter how the two of you actually fell asleep.

She texts you about the weather all the time just as an excuse to talk to you.

So incredibly sensitive. Bottom lip trembling and tearing up because you said you weren't sure if you'd be able to make drinks with her coworkers tonight. Her ass trying to play it cool all like, “That's fine 🥺.“

Detailed plans for any outing she takes you on.

She plays those like little girlfriend games all the time. The like, "Would you love me if I was x, if I did y, if z happened?” Just hours and hours of it. It starts off so innocent and teasing, but it ends up getting really serious and real specific. “Would you still love me if I, like, killed someone? Accidentally. Hypothetically, of course.”

Gets really drunk one night and starts trying to get a concrete list of breakupable offenses. Pulls out this like color-coded Excel file of info with terms and conditions and shit. She takes this girlfriend stuff seriously, bro. Debating the details of it like she’s making a contract.

Stalks your socials all the time.

I just know Rhiannon pulls those like "ten tricks to keep a man" shit they have in those magazines on you. Goes down it in a list deciding what you react the best to. Tries maintaining eye contact for a freaky long time until you finally call her out on it. Insists that it’s not what she’s doing, but you realize she’s hidden all her magazines from you the next day.

Double, triple, quadruple texter. You better not fall asleep on her, or her ass will be knocking on the door within a few hours.

She likes to surprise you with dates, but she’s so horrifically bad at it. She gets nervous and ends up asking you a billion different questions about things you like, that by the time you get to the date you’ve basically already planned it all for yourself anyway. Rhiannon looks so proud of herself that you can’t bear to say anything about it.

You catch sight of her search history over her shoulder one night, and it’s like twenty variations of “What to do on a date.” / “What to say on a date.” / “Where to go to dinner in…”

[asoftepiloguemylove]

IT FEELS SO SCARY, GETTING OLD // ON LONGING FOR CHILDHOOD

Lorde Ribs // pinterest // 怪物 Monster (2023) dir. Hirokazu Kore-eda // @troyandabedsnewapartment // Broken Social Scene Anthems for a Seventeen Year-Old Girl // Jandy Nelson I'll Give You the Sun // pinterest // Jorge Luis Borges A New Refutation of Time // 투모로우바이투게더 TOMORROW X TOGETHER 그냥 괴물을 살려두면 안 되는 걸까 (Can't We Just Leave the Monster Alive?) // 怪物 Monster (2023) dir. Hirokazu Kore-eda // Rhiannon McGavin Habit from "Grocery List Poems" // Fortesa Latifi Hold This // Noah Kahan False Confidence // 怪物 Monster (2023) dir. Hirokazu Kore-eda // Mitski Class of 2013

[riddlesb1tch]

Strawberry Lips

Xaden x reader

summary: Xaden wants a kiss but reader is wearing lip gloss

warnings: none!

You smeared some strawberry-scented lip gloss on your lips, rubbed them together and checked your outfit one last time in the mirror before you headed out the door and up to Xaden’s room for the evening. The two of you had a “date” tonight. “Date” because, according to Rhiannon, if all you were doing was laying in bed, cuddling and talking, it didn’t count as a date. It did to you two, however, since you hadn’t been spending much time together lately because of classes and training getting intense in preparation for the end of your first year and his last year. 

You arrived outside his door, stepping inside without knocking since the wards on his door allowed access to only you and him. 

Xaden lay on the bed on his back with a book held in his hands above his face. He turned to face you as you entered the room and a smile blossomed on his handsome face as you two made eye contact. 

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of his smile which never failed to take your breath away. During training, he always looked like the definition of “lethal”. This Xaden, the one who smiled freely and laughed and joked, was reserved for you, and you loved him more than anything in the world. 

Shutting the door behind you, you headed towards the bed as Xaden set his book aside and came to sit on the edge of the bed. He held out his arms, waiting for you to walk into them. You climbed on the bed, straddling his lap and wound your arms around his neck. His hands instinctually went to your waist and squeezed as your nose bumped his. 

“Hi, beautiful,” he whispered. 

“Hello,” you responded. 

Xaden grinned at the sound of your voice his ears had been begging to hear for the past week. He leaned in for a kiss and you did the same…until you remembered you were wearing lip gloss and put your hand over his mouth. 

Xaden huffed, looking at you with confusion in his eyes, brows furrowed. You almost laughed at the sight of a grumpy Xaden. 

“I’m wearing lip gloss,” you said in explanation and removed your hand from over his mouth. 

“So what?” he asked. 

“So, I'd like it to stay for as long as possible,” you replied with a shrug. 

“It stayed on during the whole walk from your room to mine. That’s long enough!” he huffed. “A bit too long, if you ask me,” he smirked, leaning in once again…

And once again, your hand flew over his mouth before his lips made contact with yours. 

“No, it looks pretty. I want it to stay longer.” You pursed your lips at his pouty face, trying to hold your laugh. 

“But I want a kiss,” he whined, bringing his lips down to your neck. His kisses trailed along your neck, leading up to your face. He placed a kiss on one cheek, then the other, then your forehead, your nose, the corners of your mouth, and finally, tried to kiss your lips, but once again was stopped by your hand on his lips. 

“Y/n,” Xaden whined. At this point, you were enjoying this way too much. “You’re mean,” he said, turning his face away. 

Finally, giving into it, you turned his face towards yours using your thumb and captured his lips with yours. Xaden immediately reciprocated, deepening the kiss by grabbing the back of your head and bringing you even closer. A sigh escaped from both of you from being close after the forced distance between the two of you. 

You both pulled away, breathless, lips swollen, but grinning from ear to ear. 

“That colour looks way better on your lips,” Xaden remarked and you laughed. 

tags: @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx

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