#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.

[spiderb00bs]

- THE GIVER

Ella Purnell x reader  

“Your girlfriend can finally relax and trust you for everything” 

Genre – fluff     Warnings – none 

 Now playing – The Giver, by Chappell Roan 

“So, baby, when you need the job done, you can call me, baby” 

You knew your girlfriend worked hard, that woman was practically a machine, job after job, just doing what she loves most. You love how Ella simply dedicates herself to every project she sets out to do, how she always gives her best in all of them, and that was one of the things that made you fall in love with the woman.   

Today was the day your girlfriend would finally come home after all the filming of Yellowjackets and Sweetpea. You were excited, jumping up and down. You'd tidied up the whole house - after going for a walk with the puppies you both adopted when you started dating - leaving everything just as you knew your girlfriend loved it, you'd made her favorite dish for dinner and picked up one of the most expensive wines you could find.   

Despite Ella telling you that you didn't need to pick her up at the airport, you went against all the woman's arguments, standing happily at your girlfriend's arrivals gate while you waited for her to appear among the people.   

Despite the cap and sunglasses, you could recognize your girlfriend from miles away. Approaching, you saw the woman smile lovingly, quickly entangling herself in your open arms. You loved knowing that she was working with what she loved out there, but it would be a big lie if you said you didn't miss hugging her like that.   

"Oh my God, how I've missed you." You said, tucking the lower woman's head into your chest.   

Removing her sunglasses from her face, Ella looked at you with a big smile, before sealing her lips to yours. "I missed you the most."  

Breaking away from the hug, you quickly grabbed her bag, entwining your hand with hers and pulling her into the car with you. "Babe, I can take my bag." Ella said, laughing slightly.   

"I know you can, but let me do it, okay?!" With a smile on her face, your girlfriend shook her head amusedly.  

Ella loved how devoted to her you were, and she had to admit she wasn't used to it. She was always a woman who managed to do her own thing, without much help along the way. In her relationships, she can't remember having anyone treat her the way you do, she's never been as well looked after, as spoiled and ill-at-ease as you make her feel, and she loves it. 

"What the fuck?" You heard your girlfriend's voice coming from the kitchen.   

You'd just come back from an intense workout, hurrying upstairs to take a shower after a make-out session with your girlfriend - who really enjoyed seeing you all sweaty and with your muscles exposed. You were going downstairs to get something to eat, the feeling of being clean strangely reminded you of hunger, but when you heard your girlfriend complaining about something, you had to sort it out.   

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Wrapping your arms around her waist, you saw her looking out into the yard of your house, following her gaze and seeing a fox, well ensconced in the space.  

"It seems this house loves to attract animals of all kinds." Ella's eyebrows were slightly furrowed, and the cute pout on her lips made you want to kiss her. "What do we do?"   

Thinking about the situation, you went to the kitchen sink, grabbed a cloth and dipped it in the tap. Looking at you with confusion, your girlfriend tried to see what you were doing, still without taking her eyes off the animal. Ella could see you wringing the cloth, letting the water run down the drain, and watching your bare back flex as you applied force to what you were doing. Biting her lower lip, your girlfriend remembered minutes ago, when she was riding you for the same reason she's drooling now, your muscles.   

Seeing you come back, the brunette shook her head, getting rid of the perverted thoughts that ran through her mind, but leaving a mental reminder to come back to them when the two of you were going to bed.   

"What's that?" Ella asked, looking at the cloth in your hands. It had a slightly strong smell, and she had to cover her nose with the shirt she was wearing.   

"It's just a bit of repellent. It'll keep it away without hurting." You said, opening the glass door and carefully dropping the cloth into the middle of the room.   

Smelling the strong odor, the fox quickly fled back the way it had come, through a small hole in the fence.  

"Oh, so that's where it came in." Your girlfriend pointed to the broken fence, making you shake your head and put your hands on your waist.   

"Looks like it. I'll go to a construction store after I've had my coffee and buy the materials to fix it." You said, pulling the smaller woman close to you by the waist, leaving a kiss on her head.   

Looking up to see your eyes, Ella smiled slightly. "Do you know how to fix this?"   

"Of course, my love!" You had a smile on your face, and Ella swore she could melt in your arms. "You're talking to a blue collar girl."   

Giving her a kiss on the lips, you went into the kitchen to prepare your breakfast, leaving Ella standing there watching you walk away. Three things were going through her mind at that moment; 1. she's finally found someone who doesn't dump things on her, 2. she's going to marry you, and 3. you're going to get a BIG reward after you mend the fence tonight. 

It was dark when you finally got home, the fence concert successfully completed. All you needed now was a shower and your girlfriend.

"Baby?" you called out. You knew the big-eyed woman hadn't come out, so you went upstairs, thinking she might be asleep or taking a bath.

When you opened the bedroom door, you found the bed neatly made, untouched. The room smelled of Ella's perfume, and the lights were low and music was playing through the speakers, making the atmosphere sexy and cozy at the same time.

If Ella was a room, this would be it.

"My love? Are you in the bathroom?"

As you walked further into the room, you heard the door close, jumping before you looked back and finally saw your girlfriend in black lingerie, which perfectly highlighted her tanned skin tone. Her hair was loose, and her bangs fell perfectly over her big brown eyes.

"Baby… what's all this?" You asked confused, but Ella could see the smile appearing on your face.

"You're so good to me, baby." The woman moved closer, wrapping her arms around your neck. "Let me be good to you too."

No smut for you this time, you little perverts hehehe

this is dedicated to everyone who asked for more fics of Ella

Drink water and stay safe,

xoxo, spider.

[rhiannonsknife]

Thinking about boss!rhiannon and secretary!r where Rhiannon isn't used to this kind of power and wants to keep it professional so badly... But it's not her fault that you're just so sweet, and your cheerful compliance just does things to her... And before she knows it, she's keeping you around in the office longer than usual, she's finding excuses to call you in to talk to her when it's not needed, she's even distracted watching you move about the office, doing little tasks...

So she calls you in again, making sure your progress report lasts a little over work hours, and that's when things get interesting...

-🔆

— BOSS!RHIANNON & SECRETARY!READER

— summary: boss!rhiannon & secretary!reader hcs

— warnings: coworkers(?) to lovers. fem!reader. nsfw content. mdni.

rhiannon who’s new to this whole “being the boss” thing…

…and determined to prove herself by keeping things strictly professional. when she first meets you though, she’s completely unprepared for just how sweet you are. you’re efficient, and always one step ahead too, which should technically make her life easier, but instead, it leaves her flustered. she’s so not used to someone anticipating her needs that it is unnerving. obviously, she resolves to keep things strictly business, but the way you cheerfully ask, “is there anything else i can do for you, ms. lewis?” makes her heart skip every single time.

at first, rhiannon keeps your interactions short and professional.

she sticks to emails and curtly worded requests, but every time you pop into her office with a stack of papers or a fresh cup of coffee, she can’t help her gaze from lingering. there’s a subtle warmth to your presence that she can’t seem to ignore. whether it’s the way you organize her desk without being asked or how you always knock softly before entering her office, rhiannon starts to notice all the little things about you that make her day just a bit better.

but soon enough, rhiannon can’t help herself anymore…

…it starts innocently enough: she finds herself lingering on your emails longer than she should, rereading them even when they don’t need a reply. she catches herself looking forward to hearing your voice when you call to confirm her appointments or when you enter her office to hand her her coffee order.

she starts finding excuses to interact with you more often: a task that could easily be emailed becomes a reason to call you into her office. a question that isn’t urgent becomes an opportunity to stop by your desk. the first time she catches herself staring at you, really staring, while you’re bent over her desk explaining a report, she jolts back like she’s been burned.

your first late night with rhiannon…

…happens by accident. she’s so caught up in work she doesn’t realize you’ve stayed back to help. when she glances up and sees you at your desk, she’s surprised to find that you’ve stayed back to help. “you didn’t have to stay,” rhiannon says, leaning against the doorway to your office. “i didn’t mind, ms. lewis,” you assure, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear.

from this point forward, every week, there’s a new reason for you to stay late. whether it’s a ‘last-minute report’ or ‘urgent filing,’ she keeps you in her orbit well past office hours. rhiannon even goes as far as inventing tasks that don’t really need to be done, like asking you to reorganize a cabinet she just had you sort the day before or pretending she needs a second opinion on a document she’s already reviewed. she schedules unnecessary one-on-one meetings that drag on far longer than they should, and halfway through, she’ll forget what the meeting was even about because she’s too distracted by how intently you’re listening to her.

rhiannon, who eventually reaches her breaking point.

it happens late one evening, during another of her so-called ‘progress report’ meetings. you’re sitting across from her, flipping through a file as you explain the details of a project. she isn’t even pretending to listen anymore, her gaze glued to you.

when you glance up and catch her staring, your brows furrow. “ms. lewis? are you okay?” she inhales sharply at your question, barely managing a clipped, “i’m fine. keep going!” you hesitate before continuing, but the tension in the room is palpable now. her hands clench into fists on her desk, and her eyes flicker to your lips every time you pause.

finally, when you finish your report and move to leave, rhiannon’s voice stops you: “wait!” she blurts. you turn back, confused. “is there something else?” she stands abruptly, her chair forcefully scraping against the floor, and rounds her desk, coming to stand just a foot away from you. “you need to stop being so…” she trails off, visibly struggling.

“so what…?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, heart pounding. her hands twitch at her sides and she crosses her arms over her chest in a sudden movement as she looks for the right words. “so…kind. so sweet. so…you!”

you blink at her, stunned. “i- i don’t understand. did i do something wrong?”

“no,” she says quickly, almost desperately. then, quieter: “you didn’t do anything wrong. that’s the problem…” there’s a beat of silence where neither of you moves, the tension in the air so thick it’s suffocating. then, rhiannon steps closer, her hand reaching out but hovering just shy of touching your arm.

“we shouldn’t…” she murmurs, more to herself than to you.

“shouldn’t what?”

rhiannon finally looks into your eyes, and whatever restraint she had left shatters. before you can respond, she closes the distance, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s equal parts desperate and hesitant, as though she’s still testing the waters despite the need to have you. for a moment, you freeze, too shocked to even react. when her hands finally settle on your waist, pulling you closer, you melt into her touch, your own hands finding their way to her shoulders.

when she finally pulls away, her breathing is ragged. “we should not have done that,” she pants, reaching out to fix her hair. “i know,” you reply, your voice equally unsteady. neither of you moves to step away. her thumb brushes against your side absentmindedly as she adds, “i can’t- i’m your boss!”

“then why did you kiss me?” you demand softly.

“i couldn’t not kiss you anymore!” rhiannon reasons breathlessly.

rhiannon, who tries (and fails) to maintain some semblance of professionalism.

every time she sees you, her mind instantly flashes back to the memories of that night you fucked in her office kissed and she has to bite her lip to keep from smiling like an idiot. from this point forward, she’s touchier with you. she puts her hand on your thigh underneath the table, or rubs your back in passing. rhiannon starts leaving little notes for you on your desk as well, seemingly about work tasks, but the messages always end with something personal like: ‘you look amazing from where i’m sitting. just saying! xx’

you, giddy from the moment you read her note, obviously play along and send her your responses via email. ‘should i put ‘amazing’ in the subject line for future progress reports?’

rhiannon who starts calling you into her office more frequently.

things spiral fast after that first night together. “i just need you to clarify something in this report,” rhiannon tells you one afternoon. yet when you step inside and close the door behind you, she’s already standing, her hands reaching for you as the report lies forgotten on her desk.

“you’re a terrible liar,” you tease, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck as she pulls you close. “shut up,” rhiannon mutters playfully as her lips find yours. you both learn exactly how to rile the other up in a short time, even in the most inconvenient moments.

rhiannon who loves the secrecy.

there’s something so thrilling to her about the stolen moments in the office, the hurried, desperate kisses behind closed doors, the way she sneaks glances at you during meetings when no one else is watching you, knowing she’ll have you bent over this very desk later. still, rhiannon struggles with the power dynamic between you, often worrying that she’s taking advantage of her position.

“i don’t want you to feel like you have to-” she starts one night, but you interrupt immediately: “i don’t feel like i ‘have to do’ or anything,” you assure, your hand resting gently on her cheek. “i’m here because i want to be!”

rhiannon who somehow knows exactly what she’s doing.

you’re not sure how many women she’s slept with before, but she’s a natural either way. her touch is better than anything you’ve ever known, her fingers confident in the way they flick over your clit in one of the many hurried office hour escapades. she’ll sit you down on the edge of her desk, the door shut and locked securely, spread you wide open for her, and then put her head between your legs.

and she enjoys it!! she might not get any physical pleasure from it herself but -god- does she love the taste of you on her tongue, eating you out like a woman starved every single time.

“you taste so good,” she whispers against your pussy, her eyes darting up to look at you, her tongue flicking your clit simultaneously. you have to sink your teeth into your bottom lip until you can taste blood to avoid screaming through the entire office and give yourself away.

rhiannon who uses you as her personal stress relief, rather than a secretary.

whether it is subconscious or not, after every single stressful meeting or business call that has tested her patience, rhiannon calls you into her office to blow off some steam. you’re not even sure if she’s aware and you’d never tell, but you love it when she gets like that: when she bends you over her table without another word, pulls down your panties from beneath your skirt, and pounds her fingers into you relentlessly. she’ll just go on and on about how terrible everything went and how incompetent some of her colleagues are while fucking you dumb from behind until your knees give out.

rhiannon who wears a strap to work.

when you first spot the slight bulge in her trousers, you convince yourself that you’re just seeing things. surely, there’s no way your boss would show up wearing a strap-on in the office, right?

yet, when she brushes up against you from behind, rhiannon makes sure you feel the silicone pressing against your center through your clothes. you can hear the way her lips curl up in a satisfied smile when she catches your surprised gasp. “come on,” she whispers, already pulling you along by the wrist.

rhiannon, who loves to watch you ride her in her chair.

whether it is during office hours, where she has to cover your mouth so you won’t be too loud, or after everyone has left and it is just the two of you, she loves to just sit back and watch you work for it. “look at me,” she gently instructs, tilting your head so you’re holding her gaze as you bounce on it. “that’s it,” rhiannon praises, reaching between your legs to rub your stiff clit simultaneously.

sometimes, she doesn’t stop after making you cum for the first time. she only maneuvers you so you’re sitting on the edge of the table, and she can fuck you with your legs wrapped around her waist. and rhiannon is relentless, not letting up despite your ragged moans against the crook of her neck.

also, after you’ve come down from your height and she’s slumped back into her chair, she’ll spread her legs so you can see the way the toy is glistening with your release.

“clean it up,” she urges. you hardly have any time to recover at all, immediately falling to your knees before her to suck her clean until you’re gagging on it.

rhiannon who loves to have you all over the place after all your coworkers have gone home.

whether you’re bent over her rhiannon’s desk, pressed against the window at night, or in that one colleague’s chair who’s been trying to flirt with you for the past weeks…she just wants to claim you in all these different spots. you love it though: you love becoming your boss’s personal fuck toy over time. you love it when rhiannon fucks you -hard and fast-when she makes you cry out her name in pleasure.

rhiannon, who knows that your relationship is not sustainable.

and she knows that you’re aware of it too. you tell her one night, as you’re sitting on her lap, facing her. rhiannon’s hand gently caresses your back, tracing the outline of your spine when you speak: “you know this isn’t sustainable, right?” you murmur against the side of her neck.

“mhm i know,” rhiannon murmurs. “let’s just…not think about that right now, okay?”

you nod, your fingers finding her free hand as you sit together in the quiet.

[maybemaleksentmeasakindness]

I'm Right Here

Chapter One (of two) : Jealousy Rears Its Ugly Head

Summary - Watching Violet and Liam tease each other only makes you more acutely aware of the deep feelings you hold for your best friend and one day you're just going to pop.

Notes/Warnings - Swearing, cursing, people flipping each other off, jealousy, talks of assassinations attempt(s). (Romance will be in chapter two.) This plot/these lines are heavily inspired by a scene from Chapter Twenty-One in Fourth Wing. 1.1k words.

🐉🗡️

You slowly make your way towards Battle Briefing with Liam, arm locked with his. The hall and stairwell seems to be unusually packed. You can hear Ridoc just steps ahead, bragging about how he owned the most recent physics test. 

“Definitely the highest score in the class,” Ridoc boasts with a grin. 

You don’t need to see Rhi to know she’s rolling her eyes. “Please!” She almost scoffs it out. “I scored five points higher than you.”

You hide a grin as best you can, burying your face in Liam’s shoulder. Why is he so damn tall? It’s fine with you. It’s always been a good tool for you to get through crowded spaces. 

“Your grades don’t count anymore,” Ridoc says with a sigh. 

You and Liam look at each other a moment, trying to not let them know you can hear this absolutely ridiculous conversation. Stupid blue eyes , you think to yourself. Why does he have to be so pretty? You don’t get a chance to think about it further as Ridoc’s neck whips around to face the two of you.

“Wait.” Ridoc scans Liam carefully. “What did you get, Mairi?”

Liam shakes his head. “No. Not getting in the middle of this.”

Ridoc cranes his neck further, as if to ask you the same question. 

You shake your head too. “What Mairi said,” you declare as Ridoc sighs again. You can hear Violet laugh as Liam looks at you again. You cling to him as you keep moving through the crowd as if you might be trampled if you aren’t glued to your best friend’s side. 

“I’ve been demoted to Mairi,” Liam questions with a raised eyebrow. 

“Oh please. Don’t get such a big head because I called you Liam that one time,” you mutter out as someone shoulders past you. 

He only chuckles before you descend the stairs together. “It’s too late, Princess.”

“You know you aren’t supposed to call me that,” you whine. You actually couldn’t care less. If anything, it makes your heart race just a little bit. You close your eyes for just a moment before someone else shoulders you. Bitch . How come everyone apologizes, but not to you?

You eventually make your way into the classroom behind everyone, Liam sitting to Feyre’s right. You take the seat on the other side of him pulling out your notebook and setting it down. Out of your peripheral vision you can see small wood shavings falling onto the table beside you. Liam carefully carves the wood before him with such ease you are convinced he could do it in his sleep. His eyes snap to Violet’s, murmuring, “Riorson just got here.”

Violet offers her middle finger up in Xaden’s general direction as you attempt to hold a grin back in response. 

“You’re making faces again,” Liam teases with a grin of his own.

You slap his shoulder. “Shut up, Mairi.”

Liam isn’t paying attention to you anymore, instead he’s glancing at Xaden. “He’s glaring at you now,” he says to Violet. “Tell me, Violet. What’s it like pissing off the most powerful rider in the quadrant?”

You sigh. Jealousy doesn’t feel good in your body. Of course Liam is allowed to talk to other people. You just missed the day most of his banter was kept to you. You suck in a sharp breath, pretending to be distracted by finding a writing utensil.

“You could try it yourself,” Violet says as she opens her own notebook.

“That’s going to be a no,” Liam says as he places his partially carved wooden drag down. Liam turns slightly in his chair and you follow his gaze.

Xaden is sitting with Garrick. You know that look. You’ve seen the Wingleader wear it plenty of times before. It’s his attempt to look disinterested. Xaden bows his head for a moment, Liam returns the gesture before returning to his dragon carving. 

You return to staring at your open notebook as wood shavings continue to fall onto the table spot next to you. You take a peek at the carving for just a moment. “Is it Deigh,” your murmur.

Liam doesn’t respond, still focused on the wood before him. You let out a mildly frustrated huff in response. From the other side of your friend you hear Violet. 

“You’d think there was someone trying to assassinate me in class the way he makes you follow me around.”

Liam’s eyes lift to look towards Violet and Rhiannon before returning to the craft in hand.

“People are fond of trying to kill you,” Rhi says with a slight shrug.

“One time, Rhi! It happened one time!” Violet says, adjusting slightly in her seat as if trying to negotiate the reality of those words despite acting as if it is not a big deal.

“What would you call that thing with Tynan, then?” Rhi asks as she sets out her supplies. 

Liam glances in your direction before you offer him something between a soft laugh and sympathetic facial expression. 

You decide to try and ask again. “Is it Deigh?” You indicate the carving in his hands. 

He shakes his head. “Your dragon.”

You suck in a momentary breath and then you see it. Every intricate detail of it. Every beautiful intricate detail of Paetra is there. She would love it. “Liam,” you murmur. “It’s beautiful.”

“You called me Liam,” your best friend says with a grin. “I thought you were trying to not give me a big head.”

You go to respond but Violet’s voice cuts through. 

“They’re just threats. The only time I’ve actually been targeted was at night, and it’s not like Liam here is sleeping in my bedroom.”

He pauses on his work. “I mean, I’m not opposed to–”

Violet’s head whips to face him. “Don’t even start, Liam. You’re a shameless flirt, you know that?” Violet responds, trying hard not to laugh.

Something inside of you clenches at that.

“Thank you,” Liam responds with a grin.

Well, someone mine as well stab you through at this rate. 

“It wasn’t a compliment, Mairi,” Violet bites back as best she can. 

Rhiannon pipes up. “Don’t mind her. She’s cranky. Sexually frustrated if you know what I mean.”

You think you might scream.

Violet lets out a low growl. “That has nothing to do with it.”

“I don’t hear you denying it,” Rhi sing-songs.

“I’m sorry I don’t make the cut,” your best friend responds teasingly. 

You don’t register his next words as your fingers curl harder around the corner of your notebook, the paper curling and crunching under the force. 

“You okay?” Liam asks beside you. 

You don’t respond. 

“Did I do something?”

You still don’t respond. 

“We’re still on for dinner as usual, right?”

You just nod, you need him to be quiet for just one second. It seems to settle your best friend…for now.

[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.

[violentdelightshavevioletends]

Dain: How did none of you hear what I just said?

Sloane: You're pretty.

Garrick: I'm technically the teacher.

Bodhi: I wanted to drop out a long time ago.

Ridoc: Aotrom got bored and has been making me listen to a stand-up-comedy routine he's rehearsing in our heads… to be fair, he's got some pretty great material.

Rhiannon: Ignoring you was a conscious decision.

Imogen: I don't hear bitches.

Violet: I've been zoned out for the past two and a half hours.

Xaden: I'm too pretty it's distracting.

Sawyer: I got distracted about halfway through… not by Xaden… just by life.

Ridoc: —Wait, Xaden; distracting to you or Violet?

Dain: You heard that, but not a single word I said during the CRUCIAL safety lecture?!

Aaric: Maybe it's the "lecture" part…

Sloane: Yeah, what if we called it a

"gathering" or something?!

Bodhi: No, there’s too many marked ones in one room for that to be "technically" legal.

Lynx: What about "commune"?

Imogen: Sounds a little too culty.

Garrick: And while it's not strictly stated in the codex, Xaden & I learned that one is also illegal the hard way—

Violet, turning to Xaden: —You were in a cult?!

Xaden: Of course not! … I tried to START a cult.

Violet, elbowing him: WHAT?!

Xaden, shrugging: It was 1st year… Garrick and I got bored… BESIDES its nothing like the scribe quadrant; that ACTUALLY wears robes!

Violet: Oh, not this again! It is NOT a cult!

Xaden: —YOU LIVED IN A BASEMENT!

Sawyer: Hey—My fiancé is a basement scribe!

Rhiannon: —WAIT—SAWYER—SHE SAID YES?You two FINALLY made it official!

Sawyer, blushing: Yeah, last Tuesday!

Violet, nearly popping her shoulder out, hugging him: I can’t believe I’m finally going to get a sister!

Mira: I’m your sister! … but yeah that’s pretty great too, aww, come over here!

Everyone, *unanimously cheering & congratulating*: Group hug!

Ridoc: And I’ve dubbed myself in charge of the ring-bear!

Sawyer: Yeah, about that; Jesinia asked me to clarify, you mean bearER right?!—

Ridoc: …

Dain, pinching the bridge of his nose: —Guys, come-on! *everyone turning & sitting back down* Would any of you have even come if it wasn't stated as CLEARLY mandatory?

Everyone *unanimously*: Absolutely not.

Dain, turning to Sloane: REALLY? You too?!

Sloane: What?! Oh, almost forgot we're dating now, so I have to pretend to agree with everything you say; yeah I totally would’ve come! *laughs* phew—close one… *whispers* can’t say I would’ve listened though…

Xaden, turning to Violet: —SINCE WHEN IS THAT A RULE?! — Violence hasn’t agreed with me ONCE in our entire marriage!

Violet, rubbing his shoulder: Yes dear, and you love me for that!

Ridoc: Hey! Aotrom says he’s ready if any of you wanna hear the intro!

Everyone *unanimously*, leaving: YES, let’s go!

[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.

[ymgsu]

sweetpea rhiannon lewis masterlist. ͡꒱ 🥄

⚠︎ = warning for dark topics. ⃠ = nsfw media.

i will only write rhiannon lewis x reader; will not write rhiannon x julia, rhiannon x aj.

( 𝐼. ) fanfics.

 1. ⚠︎⃠ cheap whiskey & stockholme syndrome 62kw (rl x reader)

🚩 kidnapping, blood & violence/injury, murder, aforementioned stockholme syndrome.

you break up with your ex, show up at her flat unannounced right when she's soaking up the last of her fling's blood with a rag. shenanigans ensue, you stumble upon the very ominous crag-closet, and rhiannon decides right then she has no choice except to keep you.

“ i’ll fix this, i promise. ”

( 𝐼𝐼. ) headcanons.

none yet ...

( 𝐼𝐼𝐼. ) thoughts.

none yet ...

[mayasaurusss]

Sweetpea masterlist

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

[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?

[imbadatwrighting]

I have so many shows on my watchlist but I’m a chronic mid-show abandoner and procrastinator so I’m stuck wanting to watch them but never actually doing it

[wlwxreader]

do you….by any chance…..write rhiannon lewis x reader? 👀👀 asking for a friend

Tell your friend I do and prompts about her are welcomed ;)

[rhiannonsknife]

── ❆ DAY 19: the gazette’s annual christmas party with rhiannon lewis

— summary: hooking up with one of your coworkers after the gazette’s christmas party.

— warnings: coworkers to lovers. alcohol/drinking. fem!reader. nsfw content. mdni. this might be my longest rhiannon fic so far. also i didn’t beta read.

the office party is in full swing by the time you arrive, the scent of cheap punch and questionable appetizers filling the air. you’ve barely stepped inside when you start to regret coming: the decorations look like they were thrown together by someone who hates christmas: half-hearted tinsel draped over cubicles, a lopsided tree in the corner, and a sad-looking banner reading merry holidays in comic sans.

grabbing a drink to make the night bearable, you glance around, your eyes drifting over your coworkers. most of them are already several drinks deep, laughing too loudly or shouting over the blaring music. seems like you’ll have to do something to catch up.

that’s when you see her: rhiannon lewis. sweetpea, as you’ve heard some of the others call her. not that anyone ever says it with much kindness. she’s standing off to the side near the sad excuse for a buffet, picking at the edge of a paper plate, looking as uncomfortable as you feel.

she’s not overdressed like the others. while everyone else is wearing horrendous holiday sweaters or sparkly party dresses, rhiannon’s in a simple black button-up and jeans. her hair falls in loose waves.

you’ve worked with her for months, seen her around the office, but she’s always been quiet. your other colleagues never seem to notice her much, in spite of her obvious potential; you’ve seen how hardworking she is and how she’s not met with half the respect she deserves.

fueled by the warm buzz of cheap booze and a flicker of impulsive confidence, you grab another drink from the table for good measure and make your way over.

“hey,” you blurt out before you can overthink it. rhiannon glances up, her brows furrowing slightly as she takes in the sight of you, looking like she hadn’t expected to be approached at all.

“you’re rhiannon, right? junior reporter?”

“yeah..?” she says simply, her voice wary. she’s looking skeptical.

“i’m…uh, i’m from editorial” you shuffle awkwardly. “i just- god, these parties are brutal, huh? i mean, who thought a karaoke machine was a good idea?”

for a moment, she doesn’t respond, and you almost regret interrupting her clearly intentional solitude. but then, the corner of her mouth quirks up. just slightly, but enough to make your heart skip. you can’t remember seeing her smile before, even just slightly.

“yeah,” rhiannon says, her voice laced with dry humor. “it’s tragic, really. but i guess they’re trying.”

you latch onto that tiny smile like it’s the only lifeline in the room. “trying is generous,” you reply, letting out a nervous laugh. “honestly, i wasn’t even planning on staying long, but…well, here i am” you glance at her plate, desperate to keep the conversation going. “how’s the buffet? any good?”

she huffs a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “i wouldn’t risk it”

there’s a long pause, and you can’t tell if you’re making a fool of yourself or if she’s just slow to warm up. either way, she doesn’t walk away, doesn’t tell you to leave, so you take it as a win and grin at her.

“well,” you say, raising your cup in a mock toast, “here’s to surviving the night, i guess”

rhiannon’s smile lingers this time, a flicker of something softer passing across her face. “i’ll drink to that,” she murmurs, clinking her cup against yours before taking a sip.

“you know” you start after forcing the lukewarm liquor down your throat, grimacing slightly. “i didn’t think you’d be here tonight. thought you’d be the type to, i don’t know, skip out on all this festive stuff”

rhiannon quirks a brow at you, her lips twitching in something that could almost pass as amusement: it’s not quite a smile, but it’s close. that’s an improvement. “what makes you think I’m not wishing i had?” she asks, seemingly warming up to you as well.

“fair point” you chuckle. “fair point”

suddenly, this party doesn’t seem all that unbearable anymore.

later that night, after a few shared drinks and some awkward-but-fun chatter about work, the gazette’s terrible christmas playlists, and your colleagues, you and rhiannon find yourselves tucked away in a quieter corner. the music isn’t quite as loud here, and the muffled laughter of the party fade into the background. it’s not exactly private, but it feels removed enough to let the conversation flow easier.

with another round in hand, your confidence starts to build. you’re still toeing the line between friendly and bold, but the buzz in your system makes it feel less risky.

“so, rhiannon,” you start, leaning a little closer, “what’s your favorite part of this delightfully tacky soirée? the off-key carols or the soggy finger sandwiches?”

she snorts softly and takes a sip of her drink. “definitely the carols. nothing gets me into the holiday spirit like hearing jeff butcher jingle bell rock for the third time tonight”

you laugh, nudging her lightly. “poor jeff. he’s trying his best out there. he’s got…enthusiasm, at least”

“sure,” she deadpans, tilting her glass in another mock toast. “to enthusiasm.” her lips close around the edge of her cup, but this time, her eyes linger on you for a moment longer than they did before.

you nod, leaning your elbow on the nearest desk. “you’re like…the only person here who doesn’t look like they want to die from secondhand embarrassment every time jeff hits a high note”

“i’ve accepted my fate” rhiannon replies with a shrug, her tone so dry it pulls another laugh from you.

“come on!” you press, motioning vaguely around the room. “entertain me. there’s gotta be something you find redeemable about all this. cookies? the lights? the…joy of corporate holiday bonding?”

she raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “you mean the joy of awkward small talk and secondhand embarrassment? truly riveting”

“well, i think the lights are nice” you counter, glancing up at the string of multicolored lights casting a warm glow over the room. “kind of makes everyone look- i dunno…festive” without knowing why you blurt an additional: “especially you”

the words slip out before you can stop them, and you freeze for half a second, gauging her reaction. rhiannon blinks, a little caught off guard, but instead of brushing it off, she quirks an eyebrow. “festive?” she echoes, her lips curving into a skeptical grin. “what, do i look like a christmas ornament to you?”

yeah, right, maybe festive wasn’t the best way of putting it.

you laugh awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. “okay, maybe not the best word choice”

she scoffs lightly, but the flicker of a smile remains. “you’re really trying hard to sell this whole thing, huh?”

“only because it’s true,” you shoot back. “don’t tell me i’m the first person to tell you that you look amazing tonight”

rhiannon’s gaze drops briefly, almost self-consciously, as she glances down at herself. “it’s just a blouse,” she mutters.

“yeah, but it’s you in the blouse,” you say smoothly, leaning in just a little closer. the confidence, or maybe the alcohol, makes the words come easier than they would sober. you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been waiting for an opportunity to finally approach her, though maybe doing it tipsy isn’t the smartest move.

rhiannon pauses, her drink halfway to her lips. her eyes meet yours again, a flicker of surprise behind them. “you’re laying it on a little thick,” she says finally, but there’s no sharpness in her voice.

“am i?” you tilt your head, playing innocent. “and here i was, thinking it was just the right amount of festive cheer. the season of giving, and all that”

“and i’m guessing you’re real generous with that, huh?”

“only with the right people,” you reply, the words slipping out easier than they should. you’re either deep enough into the buzz to believe rhiannon’s teasing is genuine interest or maybe she actually is flirting back. you can’t tell yet, but you’re too far gone to back out now.

“so? what’s next?” she asks.

“well, i’d offer you another drink…?”

rhiannon’s laugh is quiet but genuine, her head shaking slightly. “you’re more ridiculous than i thought you would be” she mutters. the way her gaze flicks down to your lips for the briefest moment before snapping back to your eyes momentarily distracts you from what she’s said.

“what?” you chuckle finally.

for a heartbeat, rhiannon looks like she’s been caught red handed. your mind is too foggy to put two and two together at this point.

“nothing” she shakes it off, keeping herself together by drowning her cup.

you really must’ve done something right, because time passes and somehow rhiannon lingers close. the evening turns out a lot more fun than you had anticipated, all thanks to her unexpected presence. between long conversations with her somewhere in your more or less secluded corner even the never-ending off-key karaoke and cheap liquor don’t seem so bad with her by your side.

at some point, after another off-tune rendition of ‘merry christmas everyone’ rhiannon eyes you critically. “you’re looking kind of…wobbly,” she notes. “you sure you’re okay to get home?”

“are you volunteering?” you reply, trying for flirty but landing somewhere closer to hopeful.

she doesn’t answer right away. instead, she looks you over, her gaze lingering before she sighs. “come on. i’ll take you!”

you follow her out of the party without hesitation, stepping into the crisp winter air. the chill feels sharper than you expected, cutting through the haze of the alcohol and helping you think a little more clearly. snow is falling lightly now, already settling in a thin, untouched layer on the ground.

rhiannon keeps glancing back to make sure you’re still steady on your feet.

it’s only after a few blocks that something strikes you as odd. you glance around, squinting against the snowflakes. “wait, this isn’t the right way. my place is-“ you point vaguely in the opposite direction, your voice trailing off in confusion.

“don’t worry about it,” rhiannon cuts in smoothly, her hand brushing yours to guide you across an icy patch of sidewalk. “the walk to your place would’ve taken too long anyway”

you blink at her, your alcohol-hazed brain catching up a moment too late. “how do you…?”

she doesn’t let you finish the question. “lucky guess,” she says quickly, her tone dismissive as she shrugs. there’s something in the way she avoids your eyes that makes you wonder if there’s more to it.

by the time you reach her building, your curiosity is drowned out by the warmth of her hand on your arm as she steadies you. you’re about to thank her, maybe even joke about your terrible sense of direction, when she hesitates just before unlocking the door.

her breath fogs in the cold air as she turns to you, her eyes softer than you’ve ever seen them. “you really didn’t have to stay and…i don’t know. talk to me. you’re not like the rest of them”

“neither are you,” you say, stepping a little closer.

rhiannon lets out a small laugh, one that sounds almost disbelieving. “you’re drunk”

“not that drunk,” you reply firmly, your breath curling in the space between you. it’s true: for all the cheap liquor you’ve had, you’re thinking crystal clear.

her jaw tightens like she’s debating something, her eyes flickering briefly to the snow-covered ground before meeting yours again. “you’re too good for…this,” she murmurs, almost like she’s talking to herself.

for a moment, neither of you moves, the world narrowing down to the space between your bodies and the sound of your breathing in the cold. then, so suddenly it makes your heart skip, rhiannon leans in.

her lips press to yours, warm and surprisingly soft, and the rest of the world falls away. the kiss is hesitant at first, but when your hands find her coat and hers rise to cradle your face, she deepens it with a quiet intensity that makes your knees weak.

when you pull apart, your breath mingling in the cold air, your forehead brushes hers. rhiannon hesitates again, then, softly, she whispers, “you should come inside. it’s freezing out here.”

there’s a nervous edge to her voice, as if she’s actually worried you could turn the invitation down. you nod, letting her lead you inside, your heart still racing from the kiss as the door closes behind you.

the door creaks open, and you follow her inside, shivering as the warmth of her house wraps around you. a small dog barks once from a worn dog bed in the corner before bounding over, tail wagging wildly and interrupting the two of you.

“tink, stop,” rhiannon laughs. she scoops the little dog up with one arm, cradling it like a fidgety child.

“hi tink” you greet, reaching out to scratch her head.

rhiannon smiles as tink sniffs your fingers, deciding you’re acceptable. “she’s all bark, no bite.”

you laugh softly, but your attention shifts as you glance around the room. the lack of christmas decorations is glaring, especially compared to the obnoxiously festive lights and wreaths you’ve seen strung up in other windows tonight. no tree, no stockings, no hint that the holiday is mere days away, save for a half-empty bottle of eggnog left on the counter.

“you’re really not a…christmas person, huh?” you ask, glancing back at her.

she shrugs, setting tink down before running a hand through her hair. “it’s just another day, i suppose”

your gaze shifts again, curiously taking in her space before landing on a small pile of clothes draped over a chair by the couch. one shirt is smeared with a dark, reddish stain. you hesitate before pointing to it. “what happened there?”

rhiannon follows your outstretched finger and her expression tightens for just a second before she snatches the shirt up, tossing it into a nearby hamper. “nothing. just so illed some…wine!”

you nod slowly. you don’t press it, not now. instead, you let your eyes drift over the rest of the house. it’s nice, though a bit big for just one person to live in.

“it’s cozy,” you offer, trying to keep the mood light.

rhiannon snorts softly, kicking off her boots by the door. “it’s my childhood home” she explains as she joins you in the living room.

she gestures toward the couch. “you wanna…uh- sit? i’d offer you something festive, but…” she shrugs, nodding toward the eggnog.“i’m good,” you say with a soft laugh, moving to sit down. “i think i’ve had enough for today, anyway” the couch is worn but surprisingly comfortable, and tink hops up beside you immediately, curling into your side.

rhiannon hesitates for a moment before sitting beside you, closer than you expected. the room feels smaller now, quieter, the weight of the earlier kiss still lingering between you.

“you’re really okay with being here?” she asks suddenly.

you glance over, meeting her gaze. “of course i am. why wouldn’t i be?”

rhiannon exhales a shaky breath, her fingers twitching as though she’s not sure whether to reach for you or pull away entirely. “just…not used to this. people sticking around, i mean.”

you smile, your hand finding hers on the cushion between you two. “well, get used to it. i’m not going anywhere”

for a moment, rhiannon just looks at you, taking in every detail her eyes can reach from where she’s sitting. then, slowly, she leans in again, brushing her lips against yours in a kiss that’s softer this time, slower. you gladly let her and it’s not long before she’s sliding into your lap…

you’re stumbling down rhiannon’s hall before you know it. once the gentle kiss on the couch had turned into a full blown make-put session, you’re all over each other. whether this is a good idea or not, to hook up with one of your coworkers, neither of you cares to consider.

rhiannon, without letting go of your face once, guides you up the stairs to where the bedroom is. you’re moving uncoordinated, bumping into furniture and corners on your way upstairs. neither of you minds.

the mattress bounces when you drop your weight onto the bed and rhiannon is quick to follow. for all her awkward fumbling earlier, she’s surprisingly smooth as she crawls up your body and settles in on top of you, straddling your hips.

you settle your hands on the small of her back and you look up at her in breathless amazement. rhiannon really is beautiful, even more when she’s got you pinned down onto the mattress.

her fingers eagerly roam your body, mapping out every inch of skin she can reach through the layers of clothing you’re still wearing. this isn’t enough for you. the buttons of her blouse come loose first, right before she pushes up your sweater and you unzip her skirt with a quick pull.

“is this okay?” she asks between every item that comes off, her hands pausing patiently until she’s got your approval.

once you’re both undressed to the underwear, you take a moment to lean your head back into her plush pillows and admire her. she’s in a mismatched pair of underwear; a plain black bra and white panties, but rhiannon makes it work. still, she ducks her head shyly when she notices your staring.

“no” you quickly apologize, shaking your head and nudging hers back up so she’s looking down at you. “no, you’re beautiful”

you’re back to kissing each other before you know it. now that only your underwear is separating your bodies, you can’t help but grind against her from beneath, relishing in the sharp breaths rhiannon inhales at the pressure of your center against her own. you can feel how wet she is already, even through the thin fabric, and groan against her mouth.

“what do you want?” you ask when she’s practically humping your leg in search for friction. rhiannon head is tilted back and she’s panting heavily already.

“can i-” she bites her lip, then says it anyway. “i wanna ride you”

you furrow your brows, but her glance towards her bedside table is explanation enough.

“is that okay?”

you don’t have to be asked twice, instantly scrambling towards it. you don’t have to search for long. in the top drawer, you find what rhiannon must be referring to: a strap and, a bit lower, a bottle of lube. you take out both for good measure and turn around to find rhiannon watching you expectantly.

you’re back by her side in an instant, though when you try to climb up her body, she’s quick to toss you around and flip you over so she’s on top all over again. rhiannon is much stronger than anticipated but it’s not like you’re complaining when she glares down at you from above, her eyes wide and eager.

you’ve never been on this side of things before, but she makes it easy: whereas you’re unsure where to put your hands, rhiannon seems more confident in securing the toy to your abdomen.

she's so gentle and patient with you, kissing the buckles of the harness in ways the at have you sucking in your breath, then whispering words of encouragement to you as she secures them in place.

you want to hide your face in the soft pillows, but when rhiannon is done and settles on top of you, it’s impossible to look away. like this, you can clearly feel the spot where she has soaked through the panties.

“still okay?” she breathes once she's straddling your thighs, open mouth ghosting along your jaw slowly. the strap is resting against her belly like this. you nod, "yes", and even with both eyes fluttering closed you can sense the soft smile that curls up her lips against your skin.

“good” rhiannon hums as she places a featherlight kiss to the side of your neck. before you can say anything else, you suddenly feel her fingers against your bottom lip and your eyes fly open.

“open up” her voice instructs. rhiannon is holding out two of her fingers, her eyes studying every single move you make. she doesn’t have to tell you what to do; you part your lips obediently and the two digits sink into your mouth. rhiannon’s jaw goes slack whilst she watches them disappear past your lips.

“look at me” she says when your lashes flutter shut. she won’t have you looking away from her when you gently suck her fingers into your mouth. rhiannon’s mouth hangs open and she involuntarily grinds against the silicone toy as she watches you through hooded eyes. her fingers feel surprisingly good in your mouth, a firm pressure sitting on your tongue.

rhiannon makes sure they're both nice and wet before she withdraws them. a string of your spit connects them to your mouth as she brings her hand down, all the way down, until she wraps them around the toy that's strapped to your body.

the side of her nose brushes yours playfully when she leans in, smiling softly against your mouth as she pumps her fist along the length of it, using your spit to lube it up. she presses a quick kiss to your lips before she removes her hand from around the silicone shaft and sits up on her knees.

“i'm gonna-” she reaches around the strap and lines it up with her entrance, quickly pushing the fabric of her panties to the side. you haven't had the chance to feel her yourself yet, but you're almost certain she's soaked. “sit now. okay?”

all you can do is manage a soft whimper of “mhm” and a nod.

rhiannon takes this as enough of an answer and lowers her weight onto the strap, slowly letting it slide into herself. she sighs as she goes lower and her lashes flutter when she takes it in as far as it’ll go, until her body sits flush on yours. she takes a moment to adjust to the new sensation before she looks down at you.

she smiles breathlessly, then, and cups your face in her hands.

she wiggles her hips from left to right slightly, trying to find the perfect angle on top of you. all you can do is watch, look at her like she asked you to, stunned by the sight above you. you can hardly believe that this is the same woman everyone else at the gazette is purposely ignoring. you can hardly believe you are the one who gets to see this side of her.

her arm comes down to rest her palm against the headboard behind you. you yourself are still unsure where to put your own hands; too many places to choose from, a seemingly endless amount of skin exposed to you just like that.

"you're so beautiful" you finally manage, running your hands up her side. rhiannon full-body shivers. she runs her free hand over your rosy cheeks, letting you adjust to the new situation, the new position you’re now in, as well.

“can i move?” she finally whispers.

“yes!” you reply immediately, sounding just a little too eager for your own liking. “yes”

“here” rhiannon offers helpfully as she lifts your hand to her hips. “hold me like this and-”

she lifts herself, the muscles in her thighs flexing, just to drop her weight back down onto the strap, your legs nestling against hers.

“oh!” she moans. her head falls back and her lashes flutter when the strap strokes against her g-spot. instinctively, you tighten your grip on rhiannon’s body to hold her against you.

she arches her back beautifully, raises her hips, right before thrusting them back down. she does this, again and again, until she’s built a steady rhythm, all while still watching you like a hawk. not once does rhiannon allow your gaze to drop anywhere else that’s not her eyes. she instantly pulls your chin back up, still bouncing on the strap as she sharply reminds you: “look at me”

except for those occasional, hissed reminders, rhiannon is vocal. “oh my god” she chants every time her skin slaps against yours. “that’s so good, right there”

the longer you go on like this, the more confident you become in yourself. and with her constant moans of pleasure, you start taking matters into your own hands as well: shyly lifting your hips from the mattress to fuck the strap deeper into her. 

rhiannon cries out when you find the exact angle that she’d been looking for. her cunt practically throbs around you and you’re sure you can feel bits of her arousal dripping against your skin.

even like this, she still musters up enough self control to reach for your cheeks and hold you in place.

“fuck” rhiannon moans and you watch how her eyes roll back in her head. her bangs are stuck to the thin layer of sweat on her forehead, and her bra is doing nothing to stop the way her chest moves each time she rocks herself against you. “fuck, look at me” even though she’s the one doing most of the physical exercise, you’re panting as well. you can hear it each time the strap sinks into her, without looking at all; her cunt squelching obscenely.

“god” rhiannon moans, amongst other things like sharp cries of your name and short ‘ah, ah, ah’ sounds.

your own body is pulsing at this point, aching to be touched, aching for any sort of relief while you’re watching her move like this. you’re pretty sure you’re leaving a stain on her sheets. even though you can’t find it in you to be embarrassed or even slightly sorry, you’re still able to feel how you’re leaking through your underwear. you regret keeping it on already: with more freedom without the extra layer, you’re sure you could get some friction from the harness against your clit.

“you’re- god- so good” rhiannon’s praise snaps you back to reality. she’s grunting, both in exhaustion and pleasure. you can sense her pace faltering. her thighs start to tremble and her hips stutter. she’s getting close.

without breaking the eye contact rhiannon seems so desperate for, you reach between her legs. an audible gasp falls from your lips when you get a feel of the sheer amount of wetness that awaits you there; smeared all over her inner thighs.

“holy shit rhiannon-” you manage.

“touch me” she urges, her fingers closing around your wrist to hold you there. “i’m so close. please touch me”

you instantly do as you’re told and bring two of your fingers up against her stiff clit, rubbing it in circular motions and matching the pace of rhiannon’s body. she whines and lets her head fall back mindlessly. you can still feel her gaze on you, though. she’s no longer riding you, either, just desperately rocks back and forth on the strap, chasing her height.

“i’m gonna come” rhiannon finally moans. “you’re- you’re gonna make me come! look at me”

you nod, unable to tear your gaze away even if you wanted to, and press your fingers against her harder so she can grind against them however she pleases.

she manages another breathless gasps of your name, before she cries out: “fuck! god, i’m gonna- i’m cumming fuck!”

rhiannon cums with a loud shout of your name. you’re grateful her house is so far off from any large neighborhoods, grateful that she’s taken you to her place. in your apartment, your neighbors definitely would’ve heard.

her eyes press shut tightly, for the very first time, and her body goes slack after a long moment where it’s trembling with unreleased tension. you’re vaguely aware of her release gushing over your thighs, forcing the strap almost all the way out, but even without rhiannon’s reminder, you won’t look away from the sight above you.

you’ve spent enough time watching her in the office, but you’ve never seen rhiannon so beautiful. her face is contorting in pleasure and her jaw is slack, her legs tremble around yours until she moment where she finally stills her hips. she keeps grinding against it softly, until she truly can’t take any more. then, and only then, she drops forward against you and you wrap your arms around her shaking form.

“fuck” she mumbles against your neck after a minute of catching her breath.

you run your fingers through her hair gently. “you okay?”

rhiannon huffs, lifting her head from your skin reluctantly. “i’m good” she assures, nodding weakly. “so, so good. are you? was this- was it okay?”

“okay?” you repeat in disbelief. “rhiannon this was-“

for a general lack of a better word, all you do is pull her in. you can feel the rumble of her chuckle go through her chest as it presses against your own torso.

“come here” she murmurs, lifting her weight to meet you halfway, ready to return the favor.

[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.