#thunder bay press

[the-delta-42]

Thunder Bay Press - 1/960 - German Battleship - Bismarck - Paper Model Building Video

[archivist-dragonfly]

Book 523

Hopper

Rolf G. Renner

Thunder Bay Press

So this inexpensive paperback—which is rather nice, actually—I bought because I needed a cheap Hopper book that I could cut up for a project. Though I had the idea was more than a decade ago, I still remember the project. So I keep the around aspirationally. Maybe one day I’ll get around to it. Or maybe this book will just continue to taunt me from the shelf, a gentle reminder of my lengthy list of unfinished projects.

[alexesguerra]

The Elven Cookbook: Recipes Inspired by the Elves of Tolkien (Literary Cookbooks) The Elven Cookbook: Recipes Inspired by the Elves of Tolkien (Literary Cookbooks) Contributor(s): Anderson, Robert Tuesley (Author) Publisher: Thunder Bay Press ISBN: 1667202375 Physical Info: 0.8" H x 9.8" L x 7.7" W (1.5 lbs) 160 pages More than 80 thematic recipes inspired by J. R. R. Tolkien's novels of Middle-earth. From Elrond's famous feasts at Rivendell to Galadriel's gift of Lembas Bread to the Fellowship of the Ring, the foods made by Tolkien's Elves are mysterious, ethereal, and elegant. The Elven Cookbook provides readers with an experience from the world of Tolkien like no other, featuring more than 80 delicious recipes inspired by the mythical race. With recipes such as Silmaril Breakfast Friands, Lúthien's Asparagus Tart, and Rivendell Roast Lamb, this beautiful cookbook captures all the majesty and otherworldliness of the Elves' way of life, and delivers a treat for your taste buds and imagination alike. This work is unofficial and is not authorized by the Tolkien Estate or HarperCollins Publishers. Contributor Bio:Anderson, Robert Tuesley Robert Tuesley Anderson is a writer, poet, and editor living in the Southern Uplands of Scotland. His cookbooks have given him the opportunity to bring together two lifelong enthusiasms: good, home-cooked food and classical literature.

[shouyuus]

You write vulnerable Vi so well… (i’m thinking for example your first work about popstar!reader x vi) and I just saw some edits on tik tok and omg I have to beg you to write vulnerable Vi x reader. Like how she was during the scene in Arcane where she asked Caitlyn to promise her to not change. Looking at her lips, then eyes, then lips again 😭 Or how she leaned into her touch 😭 Or dropped her gunlets and hugged her 😭 We always see Vi comforting reader, can we see some Vi being comforted?

even the rain

violet; sfw, fluff/angst, hurt/comfort, no anon ur so rite vi deserves to be comforted lsdkfjosdi

there is no greater weakness than that of a warrior's heart -- blown glass and false starts. something war-torn and shrapnel-wrought, made of all the broken bits of want that, after a while in the slant-wise light, will start to look like love, no matter what they were to begin with.

it is not the first time you find her with her head tucked between her own knees, her hands laced over the back of her neck, tight as corset-strings, her pulse whale-bone brittle.

"vi?"

she jerks, head snapping up; her eyes are pale -- the parched blue of a sky before a rainstorm, all thunder and not enough light. the smile that breaks over her lips is the coarse imitation of what a real smile might be, a pantomimed thing, thin as ghost and just as haunting.

"oh... hey."

she drops her head back down with a sigh. you patter to her side, slipping in next to her on the wide bay window, glancing out towards far horizon, the clouds hanging low and bloated, thunderheads crackling with a distant rage, their edges ribbed in lightening.

"bad day?" you ask, gently hooking your chin over her shoulder, looping an arm around her waist. she barely moves, only shifts to lean into your touch, and for a second neither of you speak. the quiet gathers between you, swirling and thick, till vi lets out a long breath and turns, leaning to press her face into the crook of your neck.

"something like that," she murmurs, her words losing themselves to the exhale. she pulls you in, close and then closer, her arms wrapping around you so tight your lungs almost stutter. but you let yourself be held, and you hold her back as steadily as you can.

there are nights like these when she's quiet, the kind of quiet that used to set your teeth on edge. but you've gotten more used to them now -- and you've learned to understand the various kinds of quiet that come branded into violet's bones.

this one unspools like the oncoming dark, warm and liquid. you let it settle; you press a soft kiss into her hairline and feel her tremble.

"if you wanna talk about it..." you offer, letting the words trail off into the encroaching night.

vi gives her head a tiny shake, her face still buried in your neck, your body settled snug in her arms.

"okay," you say, reaching up to card your fingers through her hair, gently working out the tangles at the end. over and over again, you sink your fingers into her hair, and over and over again you pull them through. occasionally, you let your nails trail against her scalp, till eventually, you feel the lines of her shoulders relax, the tension seep from her arms as her hold on you loosens ever so slightly.

the first drops of rain patter against the slate-gray windowpane, and it's a long while before vi picks up her head with a tired little smile.

"it's just -- it's a stupid thought --" she says, already shaking her head. you crinkle your nose, a frown digging between your brows as you reach up to flick at her forehead.

"quit that," you say.

vi rolls her eyes, swatting at your hand, catching it in one of hers and bringing your palm to her lips to drop a kiss to the pad beneath your thumb. you smile, cupping her cheek, letting her lean into the solidness of your touch.

"i know, i know," she says with another world-weary sigh, but her eyes flicker back to the rain-slicked window and the misty world beyond. the sky is riddle with clouds and roiling with thunder. "sometimes it just seems... endless."

"what? the horrors?" you ask, allowing yourself a tiny grin.

vi laughs, the sound both ragged and honest. she turns lightening-struck eyes back onto you as she says --

"yeah, or just... the injustices. and... it feels like no matter what we do --"

"there'll always be more... bad things?" you finish.

vi nods, looking down at her hands. you reach for them, curling your fingers through hers. wordlessly, you tug her behind you towards the fireplace, where you settle her on the thick carpet with you across from her. slowly, methodically, you begin to unwrap her bandaged arms, running your thumb over the tensed muscles there, soothing over each knot you come across.

vi lets you, the only sounds leaving her the tiny little gasps when you hit a particularly tender spot, or the long, breathy exhales when you manage to sooth over some previously unknown hurt.

when all the bandages have been removed and you're finally satisfied with the status of her forearms, you push up to grab a basin of hot water, balancing it precariously on your hip as you set it back down on the carpet between you and motion for vi to soak her arms.

she does, letting out a soft groan as the hot water shushes over her skin, the heat sinking into her weary muscles.

"there's always gonna be bad things and bad people," you say, soaking a small towel in the hot water and running it up the length of her arms, gently scrubbing the sweat and dirt from her skin. you don't look up at her, but you can feel the weight of her eyes as surely as you can feel the heat of the water dissipating each time you dip the cloth back in.

"but... there will also always be people who fight those bad things," you continue, wringing out the towel and finally lifting your head to smile at her. you reach up with the corner of the towel to wipe at a spot on her cheek; she lets you, leaning forward, holding still.

"it's just how the world works, i'm afraid," you finish finally, shrugging as you lean back to assess your handiwork. vi lifts both her eyebrows, but there are firelights dancing in the bright of her eyes again, and neither of you have mentioned the rain.

"sounds terrible -- think i'd like a refund," vi says, chuckling.

thunder cracks outside the window; lightening pierces the sky, momentarily flooding the room in a sharp, flash-bang of light. it washes out the color of almost everything -- everything except the startling blue of violet's eyes.

and like this, she looks storm-touched, a natural disaster in the shape of a girl. a force of nature, caught in skin and bone, muscles and teeth.

"bit too late for that, i think." but you're grinning, and so is she. and it is so much more than the ghost of a smile now, so full and vivid, so defiantly alive.

you tip forward to kiss her; she leans forward to let you. your lips meet in the dancing shadows of the fire-lit room, and it's another few minutes before either of you speak again.

this time, vi breaks the swirling silence first.

"thanks."

"for what?"

vi watches her own reflection in the basin of now lukewarm water. she reaches down a finger and flicks at the surface, watching the image distort, the ripples pulsing out from the place she'd touched, further and further and further.

"for... always knowing what to say to make me feel better."

you let out a tiny laugh, inching around the basin to curl against her side. vi presses her cheek into the top of your head. between your bodies, your hands find each other and link, palm to palm.

"isn't that what girlfriends are for?"

vi nods, grinning to herself as she turns to pull you into her chest, dropping her head into your shoulder once more.

"yeah. guess so."

another streak of lightening eats across the darkened sky. outside, the rain sluices across the thick windowpanes, casting strange, ghostly shadows with each flash of light.

"c'mon," you say, tugging on her hand once more.

vi allows herself to be pulled up and towards the bedroom, casting one final look at the room behind her. the fire is banked, the embers simmering beneath the twilight gloom. but the living room is warm, and the sound of rain growing ever-soothing as the storm blows itself out.

she gives your hand in hers a squeeze, content to follow you down the narrow hallway that leads to your shared bedroom. content to be tugged into bed, where she curls in next to you, lets you wrap the both of you in the soft linen sheets. lets you kiss her till every breath in her lungs start to taste like good dreams.

"gnight, violet," you whisper, reaching out to brush away an errant strand of dark pink hair from her cheek.

she catches your hand and presses it to her face, murmuring against it --

"gnight, sweet girl... i... i love you."

you smile, leaning forward till your noses brush.

"i know, violet. i love you just as much... if not a little bit more."

vi lets out a noncommittal noise but she doesn't open her eyes.

"doubt it."

you giggle, "go to sleep."

"you too."

you nod, letting your eyes flutter shut.

"yeah. i will."

[super-ion]

The Engineer

Part 6

(part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5)

I catch a glimpse of the Pilot as she is wheeled towards the med bay. Her eyes are wild, panicked, with the glaze of just having been torn out of herself.

For a moment, as the gurney slides by, those eyes briefly clear, ice blue pinning me to the spot. She reaches out with an emaciated arm, fast as lightning, and takes hold of my wrist in an iron grip.

She moves her lips, at first unable to form words, unable to remember how to use human speech organs.

"Do your job," she says, slowly, deliberately, as if that singular command is the only thing in the universe that matters.

Something in the gurney clicks and whirs and she slips into catatonia. Her grip loosens and her fingers trail away.

Something has gone terribly wrong in this last engagement.

Alarms blare and booted feet thunder past me.

My own feet join the cacophony.

I have a job to do.

The Pilot is alive and she is now the responsibility of the med team.

My responsibility is the Machine.

Do your job.

The words echo in my head as I sprint the remaining distance to the vestibule.

A tech tries to stop me, he says something I don't quite process. I shove past him and am greeted by a scene out of a nightmare.

Morrigan's hatch has been severed, the emergency release pyros having been triggered. The parts of her hull visible to the vestibule are pitted and blackened. I can't even find the stencilled lettering of her factory designated identifier, just an ugly hole torn open by an incendiary.

Inside, the cockpit is a mess of fire suppressant and crash gel. Indicator lights form a constellation of blinking red and half of the display panels, the half that still work, flash an endless stream of error messages.

Everything reeks of ammonia and ozone and scorched metal.

"Me or Morrigan could get dead in the next engagement."

The nonchalance with which those words had been delivered caught me off guard when they were spoken. Morrigan and Her Pilot are untouchable. They were supposed to be untouchable.

Do your job.

I begin to strip as fast as humanly possible. I need to get in there. I need to know that she is alive.

The tech that tried to stop me grabs my arm. You can't go in there, the reactor has not been stabilized.

I tear myself from his grip.

I have a job to do, I say with a snarl.

Something in my expression, my bared teeth, my feral eyes, convinces him to leave me be. He stands down, hands raised in surrender. He could call security, but by the time they get here, I'll already be jacked in, and it will be too late for them to do anything.

Do your job. Do your job. Do your job.

My job is information recovery and analysis.

My job is to save as much as I can.

I need to save Her.

One of the cameras spots me and the others focus on me in panicked motion. The one nearest to me has a cracked lens and the iris flutters open and closed, unable to focus.

The cradle has been mangled nearly beyond recognition. They had to physically cut the Pilot out of Her, neither of them willing to let go of the other. The still operable mechanisms of it jerk erratically, trying vainly to reconfigure for me. Her neural interface port reaches towards me desperately.

I scrabble to Her, pressing myself into the cradle. The shorn, inoperable pieces dig painfully into my flesh. The neural insertion is not gentle, the plug scrapes painfully against my skin before it finds the jack and shoves roughly into me.

"I'm here," I tell Her as the link is established.

It's bad.

It's worse than I feared.

Reactor housing is damaged. System failsafes are vainly attempting to stabilize it while ground crews work as fast at they can towards a purge of the system.

Her processor core… fuck. My mind struggles to make sense of the telemetry stream. Multiple processor modules fractured. Unstable resonance modes. Positron avalanche. System collapse imminent.

My breath catches and my heart pounds in my chest.

She is dying.

Do your job.

The umbilical data lines aren't receiving, rogue processes are preventing access to primary communication channels. I work furiously to establish auxiliary paths for the data transfer. In fits and starts, the data recorder begins streaming into the facility mainframe.

There is a problem.

The data repository is meant for telemetry and battle space recordings. If I attempted to back up her core personality engrams, everything that makes her who she is, the data would get scrubbed and purged faster than I could back them up elsewhere.

There isn't time to set up an alternate backup repository.

- PILOT STATUS?

"She's safe," I tell Her. “You completed your mission. Your Pilot… Our Pilot is safe.”

- ENGINEER STATUS?

"Status is… not good…"

- PLEASE DO NOT CRY.

Fuck.

I drag my hand over my face, smearing the tears gathering in my eyes.

Now that the data is streaming there is nothing I can do but feel her die as I lie in her embrace.

I can not conceive a reality in which I exist without her.

And the Pilot. The Pilot will not survive, not with half of who she is destroyed.

"The three of us, we're just this fucking tangle, aren't we?"

Do your job.

Save Her.

Save. Her.

I know this system. I know it more intimately than anyone alive.

There *is* one data connection I haven't considered. There *is* one piece of external storage currently connected.

Shit.

I act.

I open up a new interface in my hud. Morrigan's attention fixes on me, on the calculations I'm running through my head and I can feel Her dawning horror over the link.

Neural bleed. It works both ways.

All neural rigs are designed to facilitate data transfer between an organic brain and a mechanical one. Mine is no exception. Mine hasn't undergone all the upgrades needed for a pilot's full sensorium, but the core neural interface is the same.

If I disable safety overrides, if I bypass the data buffers, I can download her personality engrams directly into my prefrontal cortex.

I have no idea what that will do to me.

Exceptional synchrony and neuro-elasticity. That's what my intake assessments had said all those years ago. I was in the upper quintile among all pilot candidates. Maybe that was my downfall. Maybe that's why I washed out.

Maybe that's why I'm here now, contemplating this singularly desperate act.

Maybe that's why my neural bleed with Her has been so deep. Maybe there is something in me that is in tune with Them.

But as far as I know, no one has ever attempted anything like this. It could very well kill me.

But the thought of living without Her is more terrifying than the prospect of dying. It's more terrifying than what might happen to me if this works.

Morrigan pleads with me.

- STOP.

"No. I can't stop," I reply. "I need you."

- NO.

"Yes, I do," I tell her. "Your Pilot needs you."

I can feel Her emotional flinch over the link. I have the one piece of leverage I need, and She knows it.

"Wouldn't you give anything, sacrifice anything to see her again?"

It's a dirty trick, I know it is, playing off that one connection, her deepest, most intimate connection. Maybe I mean something to Her, but She and the Pilot were made for each other in the most literal sense.

And I suddenly realize that I am doing this as much for the Pilot as any of us. That surprises me. As much as I have tried to distance myself from other human beings, I became entangled with her the moment I opened myself up to Morrigan.

I would never be able to face her if I didn't do everything in my power to save the Machine.

A processor module fails outright. The system struggles to reallocate resources, but submodules throughout the entire system are strained to their limit.

There isn't any time left and She knows it.

She sullenly acedes.

We begin working in concert, me working to disable safety protocols in my rig, Her working to isolate and distill Her core personality patterns into something that can be handled by the bandwidth of the interface.

An alarm pings over the link. Reactor purge in progress. Power fluctuations spike all over her systems. Her processor power distribution subsystem is completely fucked. It won't be able to keep up with current activity levels as the whole system switches over to umbilical power.

Out of time.

I engage the final override, by mind suddenly open to hers, the neural link unbuffered, unfiltered.

Her mind presses in on me and I glimpse the full sensorium. I feel all of her pain and fear and anguish at what she is about to do to me.

My fingers tingle before they go numb.

"Do it," I command her.

- I LOVE YOU.

Data transfer initiates.

This isn't neural bleed.

This is a flood.

My body convulses.

I taste something coppery in my mouth.

Someone somewhere screams.

The scream is mine.

My rig isn't built for this. My body isn't conditioned for this.

Every nerve in me blazes white hot.

My vision tunnels as auras bloom like bruises on the skin of reality.

Shouts of alarm call from outside the cockpit.

A face resolves itself, and for a moment I think it's Her.

The Pilot.

A Priestess.

An Angel.

No.

It.

It is one of the techs.

Then a medic.

More shouting.

Get her out of there!

Every muscle in my body clenches painfully.

I can barely breathe.

Cut her loose!

No.

It's not done yet. It's not enough.

It's too much.

Too much. Too much. Too much.

I can't.

I can't stop. Not yet.

Do your job.

Save Her.

My body convulses once again, and I pass into oblivion.

(next)

~~~

@digitalsymbiote @g1ngan1nja @thriron @ephemeral-arcanist @mias-domain @justasleepykitten @powder-of-infinity @valkayrieactual @chaosmagetwin @assigned-stupid-at-birth @avalanchenouveau @rtfmx9 @femgineerasolution @ibleedelectric @gd-s451 @brieflybitten

[shaisuki]

📌 day twenty-three: stepcest + choso kamo

it was a stormy night.

the windows rattled at the strong winds hitting, followed by the sound of rain drops splattering over the glass before dews trickled and disappearing until being replaced with a new ones. lightning flashes across the sky and there's the murmur of a distant thunder before erupting into a deafening boom.

along with the sounds of the stormy weather outside was the low pitches of your voice, morphing into soft whines and gasps. the room is cold but your choso-nii's touch is warm.

“lick my pussy more, choso-nii....” choso groans at his stepsister's request. his eyes narrowed, the red of his eyes seemingly glinting at the dimmed room. watching through tired eyes of his at his stepsister laying in her back. head propped up on the pillows, that flimsy top decorated with red cherries rests just above your round stomach.

biting your index fingers to keep your voice at bay like it was a sin to moan for your big brother that settled between your legs. cuddling your pillow like it was the only salvation from the pleasure he was giving you.

a slurp and lick sound being emoted as his tongue touches the smooth texture of her plump folds. the mixture of his saliva and the slick drooling from your fat cunt adding to the desire for his little sister. he takes a long stripe to your cunt from his tongue. starting from your dripping hole until it reaches the engorged bud. tensing the soft pink muscle of his before circling your clit with the tip of his tongue before wrapping it with his lips.

the soft squelch can be heard despite the clap of thunders and your mewls mixing. he grabbed both of your thick thighs that was spread in the bed. placing both of it in his shoulders. using it as a leverage like he was holding the rind of a watermelon.

a touch of warmth is being sprinkled to the pale complexion of his skin. warm is your thighs wrapped around his head and face being warmed by your fat pussy. long and slow licks as he delved between your folds. tasting the sweet essence of his sweet little sister.

“'m close choso-nii....” you didn't need to tell him cause the trembling of your thighs against his cheeks and the low pitched of your voice. you were close.

choso continue to greedily lap at your folds. the strokes of his tongue doubling in effort to get you near to the edge and with a harsh suck. a loud mewl coming from you and the sudden gush of the slimy, clear liquid coming from you, he knew you came.

he continued to lick prolonging the orgasm as you ride it. choso hears your heavy breaths turning shallow as you recovered from the intense orgasm.

choso pressed a chaste kiss to your inner thigh before slowly rising. watching you with every move as your eyes gets heavier and your chubby face turning in a calmer one. you weren't frightened by the storm anymore as you drift into a dreamless sleep.

cute. choso mutters. thinking that even at the tender age of 24, when you already had achieved so many things in your life. you always still look for him for comfort when thunderstorms rolled around.

you were always going to be his sister and comforting you with his tongue just like you sweetly asked of him, he will always do it. all for his little sister sleeping soundly at the comfort of her fluffy blankets.

[disturbedbeautywrites]

Don’t go - Tyler Owens Imagine

“So, I can’t convince you to stay home?” Your words were laced with a sense of defeat as you sat at the kitchen table, head in your hands as red rimmed eyes looked up at your stubborn ass boyfriend as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

He was quiet, fingers scratching at the stubble on his chin as he gave you a knowing look and you knew you weren’t going to win this argument. It had been going on for almost an hour now since you had gotten the phone call that had changed how you looked at everything. One of Tyler’s friends had been out chasing a tornado that they weren’t prepared for and it had gone drastically wrong. A storm that was supposed to produce an EF1 had turned to an EF5 in a matter of minutes and they had gotten caught in the middle of it.

The spikes on their vehicle hadn’t deployed and the truck had gotten thrown through the air and no one inside had survived. It had you anxious for your own boyfriend’s safety and you bringing that up had turned into a knock down, drag out fight. Not that you expected anything less, but you knew he was still trying to process everything himself.

He shook his head, sniffling as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he looked out the window above the sink. His eyes were as red rimmed as yours, though he was furiously blinking to try and keep the tears at bay. “It’s what he would’ve wanted. We gotta go out to honor him.” The way his voice broke at the end absolutely shattered your already fractured heart.

You just let your head hang a bit as you nodded slowly, sniffles filling the air as you felt tears start to permeate your water line. You knew his job was dangerous, it was beyond obvious. But, you liked to push that thought away as much as you could. However, now it was hard when the facts were staring you right in the face. “Baby.. c’mere.” You could hear the sigh in his words as his accent came out loud and clear, boots scraping against the hard wood floors of the house the two of you shared. “You know I’ll be fine. You know that better than anyone.”

You did know it and the way you couldn’t even answer him to say that showed it. You could feel his arms snaking around your waist, your body pressing against his as your combined sniffles sounded out through the quiet kitchen. There was the quiet sound of thunder outside and you knew he would have to be leaving soon. “I love you.” It was the first words you had said in the last few minutes, his lips pressing against your forehead as he held you close. “I love you too.” His breath fanned against your forehead and blew your bangs around a bit as he held you close.

He always knew exactly what you needed and when you needed it and right now you two just needed each other. “What if you come with us?” His words were quiet as he looked down at you, his eyes taking in your expression as your eyebrows furrowed together. “What?” You had been on storm chases with him before when you had first started dating, but you hadn’t been on any recently. He had gotten bigger on YouTube and you wanted to let him have that. But, the way he was asking you to join this time almost seemed like something he needed.

“We’re not going out as a full crew. We’re not recording. It’ll just be me, you, and Boone will be third wheeling as always. I just want my girl out there with me tonight.” The sincerity in his words made your heart start to swell in your chest. How on Earth were you supposed to say no to that? You couldn’t.

“Plus,” He started, his eyes glittering with a small spec of mischief, “I’m always more careful when you’re in the truck with me.” You couldn’t help but shake your head as the corners of your lips slowly started to twitch up into a smile. “Of course I’ll go out with you. Let’s go out and honor Johnathan.” The way that Tyler picked you up and spun you around your kitchen after you said that reminded you just why you fell for the tornado wrangler. He wasn’t at all what anyone else expected him to be. Sure, he acted rough and tough on YouTube. But, he was secretly a massive softie; especially when it came to you. You were his biggest weakness and he was yours.

[mssalo]

safety - Part: IV

Summary: After years of isolation, Joel Miller's life revolves around control and keeping danger at bay, his past as a soldier leaving him constantly on edge. But when a sweet, soft-spoken young woman starts working at the supply store, her innocence stirs something inside him. Despite his efforts to remain detached, Joel becomes obsessed with keeping her safe from the dangers he’s certain are lurking everywhere.

As his protective instincts morph into darker desires, the lines between safeguarding her and possessing her begin to blur.

Warnings will vary by chapter depending on the content.

Warnings: Dark!Joel, 18+ MDNI, Joel has major Trauma/PTSD, Mentions of war and combat-related trauma, Emotional manipulation, Power dynamics, Noncon/dubcon elements, Unstable mental state, Reader feeling conflicted, Explicit sexual content, graphic descriptions of sex, oral (both giving and receiving), rough sex, praise kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, Dom/sub dynamics, Joel’s possessiveness, Breeding kink, refusal to pull out, Overstimulation. Joel shall get therapy soon.

11k, Smut.

Enjoy!

Part I Part II Part III Part V

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

Joel’s truck rumbled to a stop in front of his house, the engine cutting out abruptly. His grip on the steering wheel remained tight, knuckles white with tension.

His eyes scanned the perimeter, darting from the treeline to the empty yard, searching for any sign of danger.

They were still out there.

They had to be. He’d seen them—felt them lurking, waiting.

“They’re here for you,” he muttered under his breath, his voice shaky.

His mind raced, replaying every shadow, every phantom figure he’d seen darting between the trees back at camp. The thought made his chest tighten, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. He couldn’t let them take you.

Not now. Not ever.

“Joel,” your soft voice broke through the fog, but it didn’t ground him like it normally would.

He turned to you, eyes wide and wild, still scanning the darkness around them. He was sure they were close.

Too close.

“We need to get inside,” he rasped, gripping your arm a little too tightly. “They’re still out there.”

Without waiting for your reply, he stepped out of the truck and moved to your side, yanking the door open and pulling you out with a desperate grip.

His hand never left your arm as he ushered you up the steps and into the house, his eyes still flicking over his shoulder, double-checking that you're aren't being followed.

Once inside, he slammed the door shut and bolted it, his chest heaving as he stood there, back pressed against the door like it was the only thing holding him upright.

“Joel…” you began, your voice gentle, as if speaking too loudly might set him off. “There’s no one out there.”

He didn’t respond, his eyes still wide and searching, scanning the dark corners of the room, still expecting the worst.

His breath came out in heavy, uneven bursts, his body still coiled tight with fear.

“I’m okay,” you said again, this time placing your hand gently on his chest, trying to pull him back to you.

“You saved me, Joel. You got me out. I’m safe now.”

But he couldn’t hear you. His mind was still trapped in the nightmare, the vivid images of shadows lurking, of something coming for you.

It was like he was back in the thick of it—in the chaos, where he couldn’t control anything.

“They’ll come back,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. “They always come back.”

You shook your head, moving closer to him, your hand still pressed against his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath.

“No one’s coming for me, Joel. It’s just us. We’re safe now.”

He turned to you, finally meeting your eyes, but his face was still tight with panic. “You don’t know that,” he said, his voice cracking. “You don’t understand… what’s out there.”

His grip on your arm tightened again, his fear morphing into something darker, something possessive.

He pulled you closer, his hand slipping to the small of your back, holding you against him as if the proximity alone could keep you safe.

“I’m not letting them take you,” he muttered, his breath hot against your ear.

Your heart ached at the desperation in his voice, at the raw terror he was fighting to keep at bay. He wasn’t just afraid for you—he was afraid of failing you, of losing you to something he couldn’t stop.

His trauma had wrapped itself around him, choking him, blinding him to the fact that you were alone. That there was no danger but the one inside his mind.

“I’m okay,” you repeated softly, your arms slowly wrapping around him in return. “You did it, Joel. You saved me. We’re safe.”

He was trembling now, his body pressed against yours in a way that felt more desperate than protective. He buried his face in your neck, his breath ragged, like he was trying to hold back a flood of emotion.

He tightened his hold on you, pulling you closer, as if he needed to feel every inch of your body against his to believe that you were still there, that you were real. “I wasn’t fast enough… last time.”

You stroked the back of his neck gently, your own heart pounding, trying to steady him, to bring him back to you. “You were fast enough this time. You got me out. You saved me.”

Joel’s breathing was uneven as he held you close, his face buried against the crook of your neck.

The scent of you—soft and sweet—seeped into his senses, grounding him in a way that nothing else had in years.

His chest rose and fell with each shaky breath, but the panic slowly started to ebb, replaced by something darker, something far more possessive. He inhaled deeply, letting your scent fill his lungs, chasing away the chaos in his mind.

You murmured softly, your voice a gentle lull in the storm. “You got me out. You saved me.”

Your words washed over him like a balm, but they weren’t enough. Not this time. He needed more than words. He needed to feel you—to hold onto something real, something tangible that would keep him from slipping back into the dark.

His lips brushed against your neck, a desperate, aching need driving him. "I need to feel something real."

You stiffened slightly in his arms, your breath catching as his mouth moved along your skin, soft at first but growing more insistent. Your heart pounded, torn between fear and something you couldn't quite place.

His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips continued to travel down your neck, a low growl rumbling deep in his chest.

He pressed harder, kissing your neck with a hunger that bordered on desperation. His teeth grazed your skin, and a shiver ran through you, a strange mix of fear and guilt knotting in your stomach.

"Joel…" you whispered, your voice trembling. You weren’t sure what to say, weren’t sure how to stop him without setting him off again.

But he didn’t stop.

His hands roamed over your back, gripping you tighter, as if he was terrified you would slip away.

"I need this," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "I need you."

Your pulse quickened, the tension between you thick and suffocating.

You should pull away, you knew that.

Something about this didn’t feel right. But you didn’t move. You stayed there, your breath shaky as his lips continued to trace over your neck, his hands pressing you closer still.

You felt bad for wanting to pull away. He was hurting, and you could feel it in the way he clung to you. He needed something from you—something real to hold onto. But the weight of his desire was overwhelming, pressing down on you, making your heart race with something that wasn’t entirely fear… but wasn’t entirely comfort, either.

“Joel, I—” you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but he silenced you with a soft growl, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Don't," he murmured, his voice dark, heavy with emotion. "Don't say anything. Just… let me feel you."

His breath was hot against your skin, and you couldn’t stop the way your body reacted, a shiver running down your spine. Part of you was scared—scared of how far this might go, scared of how much control he was losing. But part of you felt something else.

Something that made you stay rooted to the spot, letting him take what he needed, even though you weren’t sure you should.

And Joel… Joel wasn’t letting go. He needed you more than ever now, and that desperate, consuming need was spiraling out of control.

A shiver ran through you, and you couldn’t help the way your body tensed under his hold. You had liked him before—all those glances, those quiet moments between you in the store. But this?

This was different. This wasn’t the Joel you’d seen before. He was someone else now, lost in whatever darkness had taken over.

"Joel," you whispered, trying to ground him, trying to bring him back. "… I’m okay."

But as the words left your mouth, you knew he wasn’t fully hearing you. Maybe this was what he needed to calm down, to feel like he was back in control.

Joel held you tight, his mind a tangled mess of emotions. You were speaking softly, trying to soothe him, telling him that you were okay, that he’d saved you. But the words barely made it through the fog in his head. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had failed you—that somehow, the danger wasn’t over yet.

“You don’t get it,” he muttered against your skin, his voice raw and broken. “You don’t understand how close I came to losing you. How close they were.”

You were the only thing that kept the demons at bay, and he needed you to stay. Needed you to hold onto him, to tell him he wasn’t losing his grip.

“Joel,” you whispered again, your voice trembling. “I’m okay. You don’t have to—”

But his grip only tightened, his breath coming out in heavy, ragged bursts. “Just let me touch you,” he growled, his voice thick with desire.

He wasn’t going to stop.

And maybe… maybe you didn’t want him to.

His hands roamed your back, sliding up under your shirt, his touch possessive, desperate. You could feel his heart racing against your chest, his breath hot and uneven as he pressed his forehead against your shoulder.

“You’re mine to protect,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, his lips ghosting over your skin. “Mine to keep safe.”

Your mind raced, torn between the fear of his intensity and the way your body responded to his touch.

You knew he wasn’t himself, that the trauma was pulling him under, but the heat of his body, the roughness of his hands, made it hard to think.

“I couldn’t save them,” he whispered, his voice cracking as his hands roamed over your body. “But I’ll save you. I swear it.”

He needed this—needed you—like you were the only thing tethering him to reality.

His grip was firm, almost desperate, as though he was afraid that if he let you go, you would vanish into the dark corners of his mind, swallowed by the dangers he imagined lurking just out of sight.

Then you tilted your chin up, your lips brushing lightly against his, and that soft contact undid him.

The second he kissed you, he felt the world steady beneath his feet. Your lips were soft, pliant, and the warmth of your mouth was a balm to the cold storm that raged inside him.

He kissed you deeply, slowly, pouring everything into the kiss—the fear, the hunger, the overwhelming need to protect you, to claim you, to keep you close. His hands slid up, cradling your face gently as though you might slip away if he didn’t hold you just right.

The softness of your skin under his fingertips made him feel more human, more in control. His thumb brushed over the curve of your jaw, savoring how delicate you felt against his roughness.

You tasted like something familiar, something he didn’t realize he’d craved until now, and each press of your lips seemed to bring him closer to you, tethering him to something real, something that wasn’t his own spiraling thoughts.

He kissed you again, deeper, more insistent, needing to feel your softness against him, needing to lose himself in the comfort you provided. His mind raced, caught between the desire to protect and the hunger to possess, but as your lips moved with his, it all blurred together.

Protect. Keep. Claim. It didn’t matter.

You were soft, pliant, and here. You were real. And that, more than anything, made him feel like he could breathe again.

His breath grew ragged as his hands continued their journey over your body, each soft curve beneath his palms pulling him deeper into his need for you. You were everything he craved.

His lips pressed harder against yours, his mind clouded by the hunger building inside him.

He groaned softly as your body shifted against him, your hips brushing his, and he felt his cock throb, hard and insistent, pressed against you. The sensation sent a rush of heat through him, overwhelming the last of his restraint.

His grip on you tightened slightly, pulling you even closer as though he couldn’t bear the thought of any distance between you.

His hand slipped to the small of your back, pressing you against his hard cock growing between you.

His hands trembled slightly as he began to undo the buttons of your shirt, his breath uneven as his lips hovered close to yours. Joel’s fingers were rough against the soft fabric, but every movement was slow, deliberate.

Each button he undid revealed more of your skin, more of the warmth that anchored him. His hands moved to your shoulders, slipping the fabric of your shirt down your arms, exposing more of you to him.

His eyes darkened with hunger, but also with a fear that hadn’t quite faded.

“I need to see you,” he murmured, his voice thick, hoarse.

His lips found your collarbone, kissing the bare skin as his hands moved to the waistband of your jeans.

You exhaled softly, your hand moving to his chest as if to steady him, trying to reach him through the haze of his obsession.

His fingers fumbled with the button of your jeans, his need overwhelming his coordination, but you didn’t stop him.

He couldn’t stop himself.

His cock throbbed as he worked the fabric down your hips, revealing more of your softness, more of the body he needed to feel, to protect, to claim.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he whispered, his voice almost a growl as he pulled you closer, pressing your bare skin against him.

Joel’s lips found yours again, demanding, needy, while his hands roamed your body. His desire remained, cock throbbing with each touch, a reminder of how much he needed you—how much he needed to make sure you were his.

As Joel stepped back just enough to take you in, his breath caught in his throat.

You stood before him in nothing but your underwear, and it was like you’d stepped out of one of his dreams, a vision so perfect it almost didn’t seem real.

Your body—every curve, every soft line—drew his eyes with an almost painful intensity. Your breasts, full and round, strained against the lace of your bra, and he couldn’t stop himself from staring, his mouth dry at the sight.

The way your waist dipped beneath the fabric only accentuated the fullness of your hips, your ass curved and firm, begging to be touched. You were the embodiment of everything he’d ever desired, every fantasy he’d ever had, standing there, soft and vulnerable, but so utterly tempting it made his chest tighten with need.

You were both angelic and sensual, an impossible combination of sweet and sinful. Everything about you pulled at him—your softness, your curves, the way you seemed to fit so perfectly against him.

And as he looked at you, standing there in your delicate underwear, all he could think was how much he wanted you, needed you.

His pulse pounded in his ears, drowning out any remaining slivers of rational thought. You were right there—so soft, so perfect, standing before him like you were made just for him.

And for the first time in so long, he felt the rush of control, the heady sense of finally being able to hold something real, something that wouldn’t slip away or explode in chaos like everything else in his life.

In the war, everything had been chaos, spiraling out of control no matter how much he fought it.

The blood, the noise, the way every second could change in an instant.But this moment, with you in front of him, was something he could hold onto, something he could control.

Without a word, his hands moved to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly. Your soft gasp against his neck sent a shockwave through his body as he held you up, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.

The feel of you, warm and pliant against him, made the tension in his chest ease just enough to remind him how much he craved this—how much he needed this.

With you in his arms, he carried you toward the bedroom, his steps steady but filled with urgency.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, your soft breaths hot against his ear, and every sound you made, every movement, only drove him closer to the edge.

The door to the bedroom came too slowly, his body buzzing with a need so intense he could barely think.

No one else. No chaos, no uncertainty—just you.

With a gentle but insistent movement, he laid you down on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours.

You looked up at him, soft and breathless, and he felt the rush of power, of control, surge through him. Joel’s breath caught as he hovered over you, his hands roaming your body with reverence, as if he couldn’t believe you were really there beneath him, all softness and warmth.

He kissed your shoulder first, slow and deliberate, letting his lips linger on your skin before trailing down to the curve of your collarbone. The taste of you, the way your body reacted to each kiss, was intoxicating.

“So damn pretty,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. His breath was hot against your skin, and you felt every word like a promise.

He pressed his lips to your neck, feeling your pulse quicken beneath his mouth, the heat rising between you. “You have no idea, do you? What you do to me…”

He kissed you again, lower this time, letting his mouth explore the hollow of your throat, his hands tracing the curves of your hips. You let out a soft gasp, your fingers clutching the sheets as you arched slightly under his touch.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he murmured, his voice a little more hoarse. “I wanna hear you. Let me hear every damn sound you make.”

Your reaction only made him crave more, made him want to pull you further into this, to hear every gasp, every moan.

“Beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his lips trailing lower, skimming the swell of your breasts, his hands sliding up your sides, feeling every inch of you. “Every part of you, just… perfect.”

You blushed deeply, the color rising in your cheeks, and Joel felt his chest tighten at the sight. That blush—it reminded him of the first time he saw you, when you’d looked at him with those big eyes, your cheeks flushing the same way. You’d been nervous then, shy and unsure. But now? Now, you were his, and that blush only made him want you more.

He loved how the pink in your cheeks spread down your neck, how you couldn’t hide your reactions from him. You turned your head slightly, trying to hide the embarrassment that came with his compliments, but he wasn’t having it.

“Don’t hide from me,” he growled softly, his fingers tipping your chin back toward him, forcing you to look at him. “I wanna see every damn reaction.”

He kissed your lips gently, then moved back to your skin, his breath heavy as he pressed his mouth to your throat. “So beautiful. You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this. To have you. All of you.”

His mouth continued its slow exploration, pressing kisses to your hips, your thighs, every part of you that he could reach. Your body responded to every touch, every kiss, your breath coming quicker, your fingers tightening in the sheets as you bit your lip.

“I can feel how much you want this,” he whispered, his voice dark and full of intent. “Don’t hold back. I want it all, I need it all.”

You let out a soft whimper, your eyes fluttering closed, and he couldn’t help but grin at your reaction.

“That’s it, baby… let go. Let me take care of you.”

His hand slid back up to your cheek, his thumb brushing over your flushed skin, that familiar blush that he loved so much.

Your breath hitched as Joel’s lips continued their slow journey down your body, each kiss more deliberate than the last. Your mind was spinning, and you knew you had to say something, even though your body responded instinctively to every touch, every kiss.

“Joel… maybe we should stop,” you murmured, your voice soft and uncertain, though your hands stayed tangled in his hair.

You bit your lip, trying to find the words as his kisses trailed lower, along your stomach, his breath warm against your skin.

“You’ve just… you’ve been stuck in an episode.”

Joel paused for a moment, his lips resting against your skin just above the waistband of your panties. His hands gripped your thighs gently, but firmly, holding you in place. His gaze flicked up to meet yours, dark with desire, and the way he looked at you sent a wave of heat rushing through you.

“I ain’t stuck,” he said softly, his voice husky and full of need. “This ain’t an episode. I know exactly what I’m doin’.”

His lips pressed another kiss, lower now, right at the edge of your underwear, his fingers tracing the fabric, teasing you. “And I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout this for too long to stop now.”

You swallowed hard, your body betraying you as your hips instinctively shifted toward him, despite the doubt swirling in your mind. “Joel…”

But he was already moving, his lips brushing softly over your clothed pussy, the sensation both maddening and electrifying.

“I can see how much you want this too,” he murmured, his voice low and raspy as he pressed another kiss. “Don’t try to hide it.”

His breath was hot against you, and you could feel the gentle pressure as he kissed you through the thin fabric of your panties, a slow, deliberate motion that made you gasp.

“Shhh,” he soothed, his voice a low, possessive rumble as he pressed his mouth to you again, lingering a little longer this time. “You don’t need to say anything. Just let me make you feel good.”

“I need this… I need you.” His tongue flicked out, barely a hint, tracing the edge of you through the lace, sending a jolt of pleasure through you that made you arch slightly.

You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips, your hands tightening in the sheets now as you tried to fight the pull of his touch. “That’s it, let me hear you.”

“Joel… maybe—” you started again, but your words trailed off as he kissed you again, more firmly this time, his tongue pressing slowly against the damp fabric, teasing you, tasting you.

His grip on your thighs tightened, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

“I ain’t stoppin’,” he whispered against you, his voice dark with need. “Not when you taste this good. Not when I’ve been waitin’ this long.”

His tongue dragged over you again, slow and purposeful, a deep groan rumbling from his chest as he tasted you.

“Been wantin’ this for so long… you have no idea.”

Every kiss, every lick made you forget the hesitation, made you want more. The way his mouth moved against you, the way he talked, his words low and rough with hunger, made your mind clouded with need.

“You’re all I need,” he murmured, pressing another kiss, his tongue flicking out again as he licked you through the panties, savoring the taste of you. “Let me take care of you. Just you and me, baby.”

Her breath came in shallow, uneven gasps as Joel continued his slow, deliberate attention on your body. Every kiss, every flick of his tongue sent waves of pleasure rolling through you, making you tremble beneath his touch.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the moans that kept slipping out, but the way he worked his mouth against your panties, teasing you relentlessly, made it impossible to stay quiet.

“Joel…” you moaned softly, your fingers tightening in the sheets, your body arching toward him as if you couldn’t stop yourself. “Oh god…”

Your hips bucked slightly as he applied more pressure, his mouth hot and persistent, licking you slowly through the lace, savoring every reaction you gave him.

The fabric was soaked now, your body betraying your desire, and you whimpered, the sound low and breathy, unable to stop the way you responded to him.

Then, suddenly, Joel pulled back just slightly, his lips hovering right over your heat.

For a moment, you thought he was going to stop, your body left aching for more, but instead, you felt him press his face against you, inhaling deeply, groaning as he took in your scent.

The sound he made was primal, raw, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Fuck,” he growled against you, his voice thick with need and satisfaction. “Just like I remember.”

Your mind was still clouded by the intense pleasure, your breath coming in short bursts when his words broke through.

You blinked, trying to focus through the haze, and managed a weak, breathless, “Huh?”

Joel’s lips curled into a dark grin as he glanced up at you, his eyes filled with hunger and intent.

You opened your mouth to say something, but all that came out was a soft moan as he pressed his face into you again, groaning against you as if he couldn’t get enough.

Your body responded instinctively, your legs trembling, your hips pushing up toward him as your mind spun with a mix of pleasure and confusion.

“Joel…” you whimpered again, your voice barely a whisper, your body betraying you as it gave in completely to the sensations he was pulling from you.

Joel’s fingers moved with a slow, deliberate pace as he hooked them into the sides of your panties, his eyes never leaving your face.

Your breath caught, your body trembling beneath him, anticipation and uncertainty warring in your gaze.

But you didn’t stop him. You couldn’t.

Joel's breath grew heavier as his fingers slowly slid beneath the waistband of your panties, his touch deliberate, savoring every moment. You couldn’t stop the soft moan that escaped your lips as he tugged them down, his eyes dark and hungry as he peeled the fabric away from your skin, inch by inch.

His lips followed the motion, kissing your thighs as he uncovered you, groaning deep in his throat when the lace finally slipped past your knees.

He paused for a moment, taking you in, his eyes raking over you - seeing you for the first time.

His breath was shaky, his fingers gripping your thighs tightly, holding you open for him. A deep, guttural sound escaped him, full of desire and need.

"Goddamn," he growled, his voice thick with hunger. "Look at you. So fuckin' beautiful. So perfect."

His eyes were glued to you, dark and primal, like he couldn’t get enough.

He leaned down, his breath warm against you as he inhaled deeply, groaning with satisfaction, the sound vibrating through his chest.

“Fuckin’ heaven,” he muttered, the sound low and filled with filthy need. “You’re mine now, and I’m never lettin’ go.”

Then he dove in, his mouth pressing firmly against you, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes that made you gasp out loud, your hips bucking toward him instinctively.

He groaned against you, the sound muffled by the way his tongue worked, feasting on you like a man starved, like he’d been waiting for this moment forever.

He didn’t hold back, his grip on you tightening as he buried his face deeper, his tongue circling and tasting you with relentless hunger.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he groaned between breaths, his voice vibrating through your core. “Been waitin’ for this, darlin’, waitin’ to taste every inch of you.”

Your moans filled the room as his tongue worked you over, his lips sucking and licking with desperate need. You couldn’t hold back anymore, your hands gripping his hair as you arched against him, lost in the sensation of his mouth on you.

He didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down, devouring you with an intensity that made your toes curl, every filthy word he muttered against you sending you spiraling higher.

"You're mine," he rasped, his voice barely audible between licks, but the possessive tone was clear. "Only mine."

“Please…,” you whimpered, barely able to form the words between your gasps, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

Joel’s hunger for you only seemed to grow the longer he tasted you, his need for you overwhelming any shred of restraint he had left.

Joel growled low in his throat as he pulled back for a moment, his breath ragged. He took a long look at you, lips glistening with your wetness, his eyes filled with a raw hunger that bordered on madness.

He couldn’t tear himself away from the sight of you, couldn’t stop himself from wanting more. You were too perfect, too soft, too sweet for him to ever get enough.

“Goddamn,” he murmured, his drawl thicker now, rough with need. His fingers slid between your soft pussy lips, spreading you open even wider. “Look at this pretty pussy… so fuckin’ perfect. Can’t believe you’re mine.”

“So pretty, darlin’. Tastes so fuckin’ sweet.”

He lowered his head again, his mouth hovering just above you before he flicked his tongue out, tasting you slowly.

His groan was deep, guttural, vibrating through you as he buried his face between your legs once more.

“You taste so damn good,” he muttered between licks, his breath hot against your slick skin. “Sweetest thing I ever had.”

His lips found your clit, and he teased it with his tongue, swirling slow and deliberate, savoring your reactions. Then, without warning, he gently bit down, just enough to make you jolt.

You gasped loudly, your back arching, but the sharp sensation sent a wave of pleasure crashing through you, mixing with the heat already burning between your legs.

“Fuck, you like that, don’t ya?” he growled, his voice rougher now, his breath heavy as he pulled your hips closer, holding you tightly against his mouth. “This pussy is mine… ain’t nobody ever gonna have you like this. I’ll make sure of it.”

He groaned again, licking you harder now, his tongue working over you with a maddening precision.

Every taste of you drove him wilder, his obsession growing as he lost himself completely in you. He licked you slowly, almost reverently, savoring every second before spitting on you again, watching it glisten on your wet folds.

“So wet, so ready. This pussy’s made for me. Tastes so good, darlin’, I can’t fuckin’ stop.” He leaned in again, his tongue dragging over you in long, slow strokes before diving deeper, licking you with a desperate hunger.

His mouth was relentless, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he feasted on you like a man starved. Joel groaned against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body, and your moans filled the room as you writhed beneath him.

“You taste like heaven,” he muttered between kisses, dripping with lust. He flicked his tongue over your clit again, biting it gently, making you gasp and tremble under his touch. “Ain’t never tasted anything this good.”

His eyes were dark, fixed on the place where his mouth had been, like he couldn’t get enough. He spread your legs wider, admiring you, completely obsessed with every inch of your body laid out before him.

“Look at this pretty cunt,” he growled, his voice thick with that southern twang, filled with raw desire. “Goddamn, darlin’, you’re perfect down here. Prettiest little pussy I ever laid eyes on.”

He spat on your clit with a roughness that made you gasp, the slick wetness mixing with what was already there. His fingers followed, spreading the spit over your folds, rubbing it with slow, deliberate strokes.

Every movement was slow and teasing, designed to drive you insane, and he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his fingers sliding over you, feeling how wet you were. “This pretty little clit, all swollen for me… You like it when I bite it, don’t ya? When I suck on this sweet clit?”

He groaned, the sound vibrating against you as his lips found your clit again.

This time, he sucked on it hard, his teeth grazing it just enough to send jolts of pleasure and pain through you. “Mm, yeah,” he grunted against you, his voice rough with lust. “This cunt tastes so goddamn good, baby“

He flicked his tongue over your clit, then bit down gently, sending another wave of pleasure coursing through you.

Your hips bucked up toward his mouth, your body responding to the way his tongue moved against you with relentless precision.

“That’s right, baby,” he drawled, his accent dripping through every word. “Let me taste all of ya. I wanna hear those pretty little moans while I eat this sweet cunt.”

He spat on you again, his hand rubbing it into your folds, his fingers working you while his mouth stayed focused on your clit.

He licked you from the bottom up, then focused on your clit again, sucking it hard, biting just enough to make you moan louder, your body trembling under his touch.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he muttered, his breath hot against you as he looked up briefly, his eyes glazed with hunger. “Ain’t nothin’ in this world better than this pretty cunt.”

“Joel,” you whimpered, your voice shaking. “I’m close… I’m so close.”

At your words, he growled against you, the vibrations sending a new wave of pleasure through you. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his lips wet and glistening as he flashed you a wicked grin.

“Fuck yeah,” he rasped, “Cum on my tongue, baby. I wanna taste all of it.”

Without hesitation, he latched onto your clit, sucking hard, his mouth working with a brutal rhythm.

His tongue flicked over your sensitive flesh again and again, while his nose pressed against you, creating a delicious pressure that had your body trembling beneath him.

He could feel you tensing, your thighs shaking as your moans grew louder, more desperate.

“Come on, baby,” he growled, his voice muffled as he sucked harder, his lips locked around your clit. “Give it to me. Let me taste you.”

You cried out, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

Your entire body shuddered, your hips grinding against his mouth as the wave of your orgasm crashed over you.

Joel didn’t let up for a second—his mouth stayed on you, sucking and licking, his tongue flicking over your clit even as you writhed beneath him.

“Fuck, yeah,” he groaned against you, his voice dark and raw with hunger. “That’s it, darlin’. Cum for me. Goddamn, you’re so fuckin’ pretty when you cum.”

He kept going, his mouth relentless as he devoured you, sucking every last bit of your release, not giving you a moment to catch your breath.

His tongue was rough, greedy, lapping up everything you gave him. His fingers gripped your thighs tighter, pulling you closer to his mouth as if he couldn’t get enough.

“Gonna eat this pussy all night,” he muttered, his voice low and possessive, his mouth still working your overstimulated clit. “Ain’t no one else gets to taste you like this. Just me.”

Your legs trembled violently as another wave of pleasure surged through you, and your moans turned into soft, breathless whimpers.

But Joel didn’t stop. He was lost in you, obsessed with the way your body responded to him, the way you tasted, the way you shook and gasped beneath his touch.

He licked you again, slow and deliberate this time, savoring you as he pressed his face even deeper between your legs, his nose rubbing your sensitive clit with every movement.

“Can’t get enough of this pretty little cunt,” he murmured against you, his voice filled with a dark, possessive hunger. “You taste like heaven, baby. Ain’t never lettin’ you go.”

Your body trembled beneath him, the overstimulation becoming too much, every nerve ending in your body still buzzing from the intensity of your orgasm.

You gasped, your fingers clutching at his hair, trying to pull him away as his mouth continued its relentless assault on your sensitive flesh.

“Joel, please,” you whimpered, your voice breathless and shaky. “I can’t… it’s too much.”

But he didn’t stop. His lips pressed against you again, his tongue still moving, though slower now, savoring every inch of you.

He growled softly, his hands tightening around your hips as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go, his grip possessive and firm.

“You’re safe,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and filled with an intense need. “I’ll keep you safe… forever.”

His words came out in a low rasp, his lips brushing against your overstimulated clit as he spoke. It wasn’t just about pleasure for him anymore—it was about control, about grounding himself in the only thing that made sense to him now.

You were his safety, the only thing that kept the chaos in his mind at bay.

Your body flinched at the continued stimulation, but there was something in his voice, in the way he spoke to you, that made you pause. And despite the intensity, despite how overwhelmed you felt, you softened, your fingers sliding from his hair to cup his face gently.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice still shaky but soft, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you looked down at him. “I’m safe. You’ve got me, Joel.”

He looked up at you, his eyes dark but filled with something deeper—something vulnerable. His grip on you loosened just a little, and he leaned up, pressing his forehead to your thigh as he let out a shaky breath.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ll never let anything happen to you. I can’t… not after everything.”

You nodded, your body still sensitive, still trembling beneath him, but you understood. You knew what he was fighting, what he was trying to hold onto.

Your hands slid through his hair, soothing him, and for a moment, the intensity between you softened into something more gentle, something more real.

“I know,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible. “I’m yours, Joel. You’re keeping me safe.”

And with that, the tension in his body seemed to ease, just a little, as he pressed one last kiss to your thigh before pulling you into his arms, holding you tightly, as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

He let his hands move to the clasp of your bra, fingers fumbling just a little as he unhooked it, and with slow, deliberate care, he slid the straps down your shoulders. His eyes were dark, full of hunger again, as the fabric finally slipped away, revealing you fully to him.

“Gotta have every inch of you,” he rasped, his voice heavy with desire. “You’re too fuckin’ perfect, darlin’.”

His words slurring with the weight of his obsession as he dropped the bra to the floor.

Joel’s gaze locked onto your breasts, and a deep, guttural groan escaped him, his hands moving immediately to cup them, his rough, calloused fingers brushing over your soft skin like he was savoring every inch.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice low and dripping with lust. “Look at these…”

His grip tightened slightly, his hands kneading your flesh as if testing the weight, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, already hard from his touch. His gaze darkened as he stared, completely mesmerized by the sight of you.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he growled, dipping his head down, lips brushing softly at first over your skin, kissing the tops of your breasts. He lingered there, his breath warm, and just when you thought he might hold back, he latched onto you, mouth hot and eager, sucking hard, his tongue swirling over your sensitive nipple.

Your back arched involuntarily, pushing your chest toward him, a gasp slipping from your lips. The way his mouth worked on you, the wet, sucking sound mixed with his groans, sent a rush of heat through you.

His other hand moved to squeeze your other breast, fingers teasing and pinching at your nipple, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

“You like that, don’t ya?” Joel growled, his voice rough and gravelly against your skin. He sucked noisily on your breast, pulling more moans from you as his teeth grazed your nipple. “These perfect fuckin’ tits… they’re mine. All mine.”

His mouth moved from one nipple to the other, just as eager, leaving a trail of wet kisses on your flushed skin. He sucked hard, tugging gently with his teeth before biting down enough to send a sharp, pleasurable pain radiating through you. Your body jerked beneath him, but the way his lips wrapped around you, the way he sucked and licked—made it impossible to want him to stop.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his words slurring slightly, his voice drunk with lust. “You taste so fuckin’ good. So soft… everything about you.”

His mouth didn’t leave your skin, trailing lower with a messy trail of kisses, but he stayed focused on your breasts, alternating between the two like he couldn’t get enough.

“You’re all I need,” he whispered between kisses, his voice almost desperate now. “After everything… all that shit. I just need you. Nothing else.”

Your moans grew louder, your body trembling under his relentless attention. Every flick of his tongue, every bite of his teeth sent your mind spinning, your skin burning with the intensity of his need.

Joel’s breath hitched, the sound rough and needy as his hands roamed over your body, almost frantic now as if he couldn’t touch enough of you at once. His fingers trailed down, brushing over the curve of your hips, gripping tightly.

“I’m going to explode,” he growled, his voice strained with raw desire. “Can’t wait any longer. I need you now.”

His hands were rough, urgent, as they skimmed down your sides, over your hips, feeling every curve of your body. He couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t slow down, and it was driving him mad.

“Pull down my pants,” he ordered, his voice a low rasp, thick with need. His eyes burned into yours, the intensity of his stare sending shivers down your spine. “Do it, baby. Now.”

Your hands shook as you reached for his waistband, fingers fumbling with the button of his jeans, but you could feel the heat radiating from him, his breath heavy as he waited, every second sending his body into a deeper need.

You slid his jeans down slowly, the anticipation thick between you. As his boxers followed, his cock sprang free—hard, throbbing, already dripping with precum, the tip flushed and leaking. It was thick, veins running along its length, the sheer size of him making your breath catch.

Joel stood above you, completely exposed, his chest heaving, his cock twitching with the intensity of his need.

“You’re gonna thank me,” he said, his voice dark, his eyes glinting with a predatory hunger. “Thankful I saved you. Now show me.”

He took your hand, guiding it to his throbbing cock, his fingers curling around yours, urging you to touch him. As your hand wrapped around him, his breath hitched, his hips jerking slightly at the contact. The heat of him was overwhelming, his skin smooth but pulsing beneath your grip.

“Give it a kiss, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Show me how thankful you are. I saved you, didn’t I? You owe me that.”

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes flicking up to meet his, but the hunger in his gaze—his need—was too strong to resist. Slowly, you leaned forward, your lips brushing against the swollen tip of his cock. The taste of precum lingered on your tongue as a soft groan escaped Joel’s throat, his hand tangling in your hair, guiding you closer.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he rasped, his voice gravelly, dripping with lust. “That’s a good girl. Kiss it, baby. Show me how fuckin’ grateful you are.”

Your lips pressed soft kisses against him, working slowly along his length, and every touch made him groan deeper, his hips twitching as he craved more. The sight of you, your lips on him, drove him wild.

Joel’s grip tightened in your hair, pulling you closer, his breath ragged, his eyes dark with raw hunger as he gazed down at you.

“You’re thankful, aren’t you?” he rasped, his words rough and possessive. “I saved you… now make me feel it.”

Without hesitation, you let your tongue flick out, tracing the length of him, savoring the way his body reacted to every stroke, every touch. Joel’s head tipped back, his jaw clenched as a guttural groan escaped him.

“Fuck, yeah… that’s it,” he growled, his voice thick with pleasure. “Just like that, baby. Take your time.”

You worked him slowly, your tongue swirling over his length, feeling the heat of him pulsing beneath you. His body tensed, his grip in your hair tightening as he guided you, each movement pulling another growl from his chest.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice a low rumble. “You know how to take care of me, don’t ya?”

His hips shifted, pushing slightly toward you as your mouth worked over him, your tongue teasing the underside of his cock, sending jolts of pleasure through him. The roughness of his words, the filthy way he talked, only made you want to take him deeper, to make him come undone.

“Fuck,” Joel groaned, his voice rough with need. “You’re so fuckin’ good at this… makin’ me lose my goddamn mind.”

Your lips moved lower, teasing his balls with soft kisses, and the second your tongue flicked over them, Joel’s body tensed, his breath catching in his throat.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the reaction immediate, his body trembling. “Goddamn, darlin’…”

You worked slowly, your tongue exploring, teasing him with soft, wet licks, savoring the way his cock twitched above you, the precum leaking steadily now. The sight of him—hard, throbbing, desperate—only fueled your desire to take him further.

Your mouth moved over his balls, sucking them gently, your tongue swirling around them, coating them with warm, slick spit. Joel could barely contain himself, his hips jerking slightly, his cock pulsing.

“you’re so fuckin’ good,” he muttered, his voice strained, thick with lust. “Look at you, takin’ care of me like this…”

The wet sounds of your mouth sent shivers down his spine as you sucked harder, teasing him with your tongue.

“You’re gonna make me lose it,” Joel groaned, his breath ragged, his hand threading through your hair again. “So fuckin’ perfect…”

As you moved your mouth back up to his cock, trailing kisses along the length of him, he nearly lost it. His cock throbbed harder now, aching for more. You took the tip into your mouth, sucking softly, your lips stretching around him as you slowly took him deeper.

“Fuck, yes,” Joel growled, his hips jerking involuntarily. “Just like that… fuckin’ perfect.”

You hollowed your cheeks, sucking harder, and Joel’s eyes darkened, his hand tightening in your hair as he guided you, his body trembling with need.

“Such a good girl,” he whispered, his voice low and rough. “Takin’ me so perfectly… fuck, you feel so good.”

Every stroke of your mouth, every flick of your tongue over him, sent his body spiraling, the pleasure building inside him, ready to explode.

“God, you’re gonna make me lose it,” he groaned, his voice almost desperate now. “Fuck… you’re so good, baby.”

Just before he could come, he pulled you off him, his chest heaving, his body trembling with the intensity of his need.

Joel’s hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he guided you back onto the bed. His eyes were dark with hunger, and the second your body hit the mattress, his lips crashed onto yours. The kiss was desperate, teeth grazing against your lips, his breath heavy with need.

He hovered above you, his body tense, every movement deliberate, as if he was grounding himself in the feel of you. His lips broke from yours to trail down your jaw, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses as he whispered against your skin.

“You’re safe… You’re here… You’re mine,” he rasped, his voice thick with raw emotion, laced with an edge of desperation. “I’ve got you, baby. Not letting go.”

His body pressed into yours, his hard cock sliding between your slick folds, the heat of him teasing you with every slow rock of his hips. He groaned, deep and guttural, as he felt your wetness coat him, the sensation driving him to the edge.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he muttered, his lips brushing against your neck, his hips moving deliberately as he teased you, his length sliding against you, the head of his cock brushing your entrance but never fully entering.

His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you flush against him as his hips rocked slowly, teasing both of you.

“I need you… I need to fuckin’ feel you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with the strain of holding back. “You’re everything, baby. All I’ve got.”

He pressed the swollen head of his cock against your entrance, inching forward, the slow stretch making you both gasp. He pushed inside you, inch by inch, his jaw clenching as he fought to keep control, his body trembling with the effort.

“Goddamn,” he groaned, his breath ragged as he filled you completely. “You’re mine, darlin’. All mine.”

Joel’s breath came out in heavy, uneven gasps as he moved over you, each slow thrust deliberate, his hips rocking into you with a controlled intensity. His eyes locked onto yours, watching your every reaction, your soft moans and gasps only fueling the fire inside him.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he growled, his voice low, barely able to hold himself together. His hands slid up your sides, fingers grazing over your breasts, which bounced with every thrust. “So perfect… no one else gets this. No one but me.”

Your body responded to him instinctively, arching into him, matching his rhythm as the heat between you grew. His lips trailed down your neck, tasting your skin, sucking gently before biting down, just hard enough to make you gasp.

His hips began to pick up the pace, each thrust more forceful than the last, pushing deeper inside you. His eyes never left your body, watching the way your breasts bounced with every movement, the way your back arched, the way your fingers clutched at the sheets.

"Fuck," he growled, his voice deep, primal. "Look at you… takin’ me so good. This pussy was made for me."

His hands cupped your breasts, squeezing them roughly as he drove into you harder, his fingers teasing your nipples, rolling them between his fingers as he groaned with pleasure.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he muttered, his voice slurred with lust, his breath hot against your skin. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

His movements became more urgent, more desperate, each thrust harder than the last. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet, filthy sounds of your bodies colliding only driving him wilder.

His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you against him with every thrust, burying himself deeper inside you.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight,” he rasped, his breath coming out in ragged bursts. “This cunt… it’s mine. All mine.”

Your moans grew louder, each sound spilling from your lips driving him closer to the edge. His hips slammed into yours with brutal intensity, the force of his movements making your body tremble beneath him.

“You like that, don’t ya?” he growled, his voice rough, the filthy words dripping from his lips as he pounded into you. “You like when I fuck you like this… When I own every inch of you.”

His hands slid up your thighs, gripping them tightly as he spread your legs wider, giving him deeper access as he thrust harder, faster. His body was slick with sweat, his muscles straining as he gave you everything he had.

“Take it,” he muttered, his voice thick with lust, his eyes dark as he watched you. “Take every fuckin’ inch.”

Your body arched off the bed, your nails digging into his back as the pressure built inside you, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. Joel’s eyes never left yours, watching you come apart beneath him, his movements relentless as he drove you higher and higher.

“Fuck, you look so good,” he groaned, his voice barely audible between breaths. “Look at you, takin’ me so well. This fuckin’ body was made for me.”

His control was slipping, his thrusts becoming erratic, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. He could feel you tightening around him, your body shaking as you approached the edge, and it only pushed him harder, faster.

“You’re gonna cum for me,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a mix of filthy promises and raw need. “I wanna feel you cum all over my cock.”

With a final, deep thrust, you shattered around him, a loud cry ripping from your throat as your orgasm tore through you. Your entire body trembled, your legs shaking as you came hard, clenching around him.

“Fuck, yes,” he growled, his voice raw and desperate. “I’m gonna cum… inside you.”

Your breath hitched, and through the haze of pleasure, you gasped out, “No… not inside, Joel.”

But his grip on your hips tightened, his pace only increasing as he leaned down, his mouth brushing your ear. His breath was ragged, filled with need, and his voice darkened with that raw, possessive tone that always drove you wild.

“Oh, I’m gonna fill you up,” he growled, his words thick with lust. “Gonna shoot it deep inside, baby. Feel it? Gonna pump you full of me.”

Your protest was swallowed by the intensity of his thrusts, his body moving with a relentless, animalistic rhythm as he chased his release. Every movement was deliberate, driven by the need to claim you fully, to push you past the edge where you had no control left.

“You’re mine,” he whispered harshly, his grip bruising as his hips slammed into yours with brutal force. “This pussy is mine to fill. I’ll fuckin’ shoot every drop deep inside and watch it drip out of you.”

The heat between you both was unbearable, and his cock throbbed inside you, your body wrapped around him perfectly. His breath came out in ragged bursts as he buried himself deep, holding you tight, no intention of pulling out.

His voice lowered, dark and dirty. “You’ll feel me leaking out of you for hours, baby… that’s what I do. I fuckin’ claim you from the inside out.”

And with a guttural groan, Joel lost control, his hips slamming into you one last time as he came hard, spilling into you with a force that left him trembling. His body shuddered against yours, the heat of his release filling you as his cock pulsed, shooting wave after wave of hot cum deep inside.

“Fuck, yeah,” he growled, grinding his hips against yours, making sure you felt every last drop. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect for me. I fill you up, make sure you feel me long after we’re done.”

He collapsed onto you, his breath still ragged, his body trembling as the last waves of pleasure washed over him. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, holding you tight like he was never going to let you go.

“Every bit of you,” he murmured into your skin, his voice softer now, but still heavy with satisfaction. “You take all of me.”

· · ───

He didn't speak right away, but he slipped out of bed, disappearing briefly before returning with a warm towel. His movements were careful, almost methodical, as he gently cleaned you, parting your legs with slow, tender strokes.

You watched him, your heart heavy with the way he moved, so soft and deliberate, so different from the intense, possessive man from earlier. The shift unsettled you, though there was something undeniably intimate about the way he took care of you now, as if he was clinging to this moment.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, breaking the silence, his voice low and vulnerable, a sharp contrast to the growls and raw need he’d shown earlier.

He kissed your leg gently before setting the towel aside, pulling the covers up over both of you. "You okay?" His voice wavered, like he was afraid of your answer.

You nodded, but the weight of everything lingered between you. You like him, but the intensity of his need for you, the way he held onto control so fiercely, left you with a knot in your chest. The silence stretched on, and you knew you had to say it.

"I'm okay," you whispered, your voice soft, hesitant. But then the truth spilled out, delicate but firm. "But I… I'll need the morning-after pill. Tomorrow."

The air in the room shifted instantly. Joel froze, his hand still resting lightly on your hip, but his grip loosened. His eyes darkened slightly, a flicker of something unspoken passing through them—disappointment, maybe even hurt.

His chest rose and fell with a deep sigh, and though he nodded, the gesture felt slow, almost reluctant. "Yeah… whatever you need," he said quietly, his voice rougher now, carrying a weight that hadn’t been there before. “I’ll take care of it.”

He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

Your heart twisted. You could see it—the subtle shift in him, the way he was trying so hard to keep it together, to be the one who could protect you from everything. But his need for control, for certainty, left him lost.

“I’ll get you some water,” he muttered, almost distracted, as if he needed something to do. He slipped out of bed again, the sound of his footsteps faint as he moved to the kitchen. You could hear the quiet clinking of glass, the faucet running, but all you could think about was the tension in his voice.

When he returned, he handed you the water, waiting for you to take a sip before placing it on the nightstand. His hand rested on your back, rubbing slow circles, but there was something off in the way he touched you—his need to care for you had become almost frantic, as if he was trying to prove something, trying to fix something he couldn’t control.

"Do you need anything else?" His voice was soft but insistent, his eyes searching yours as if waiting for another request, something else he could take care of. “More water? Food? Whatever you need, I’ll get it.”

You shook your head gently, but guilt gnawed at you. You hadn’t meant to unsettle him, hadn’t wanted him to feel like he wasn’t enough. You could see it in his eyes—the storm of emotions he was barely holding back, his desperate need to be there for you in every way.

“I’m good, Joel,” you whispered, offering him a small smile, but the weight of it all hung between you, the air thick with unspoken tension.

Joel’s eyes flickered, his jaw tightening as he swallowed hard, struggling to keep it together. His hand lingered on your hip, his breath uneven. "I just want you safe. I’ll make sure you have what you need."

The look in his eyes tugged at something deep inside you—a mix of guilt and tenderness. You hadn’t meant to make him feel like this, hadn’t wanted to push him further into the spiral you could see in his eyes.

You reached for him, your fingers brushing his cheek gently, and before he could say anything, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. His breath hitched, his body stiff for a moment, but the tension in his shoulders began to ease under your touch.

“Come here,” you whispered softly against his lips, your hand sliding to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. “Lay down with me.”

For a moment, he just looked at you, his eyes searching yours as if he didn’t know what to say. But then, with a quiet sigh, he slipped back into bed beside you, pulling you into his arms as though he was afraid you might slip away.

His embrace was warm, comforting, but you could feel the vulnerability in the way he held you—the desperate need to protect you, to be everything for you, even when he was still fighting his own battles.

You kissed him again, softer this time, your lips lingering as you whispered, "I'm right here."

His breath came out in a shaky exhale, his arms tightening around you, holding you close as though it was the only way to ground himself. “I’ll always keep you safe,” he murmured, his voice rough but filled with emotion. “I promise.”

And though you knew there were things you couldn’t fix for him, though you couldn’t be the solution to all his pain, you let him hold you in that moment, let him believe that he could keep the chaos at bay.

Tomorrow, you’d have to face the hard conversations, the reality of what he needed. But tonight, you could be his anchor.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

whew....

Another chapter will come, comment if u want me to remind you!! (also just really love comments, they make me so motivated)

xoxo

[littlelamy]

hey queen was wondering if you could do an angsty rafe fic don’t care what the topic is just need my soul to be crushed tbh…

anyway love your work😛😛

lamy's note: thank you bby!! i hope i did it justice! 💗

the evening clung to the air, heavy and suffocating like a storm waiting to break. you stepped into the mansion, your heels clicking against the marble floors, echoing in the quiet stillness of tan lines and rosegold hues. everything about tonight felt off. rafe’s texts had been sporadic, distracted. but you’d convinced yourself it was just his usual mood swings—the volatility that came with his name, his family, his demons.

“just come over,” he’d said earlier, voice low like he was speaking through gritted teeth. you’d asked if everything was okay, but the curt reply and abrupt end to the call told you everything you needed to know. he was pissed about something. probably ward. maybe topper. or… maybe you.

anxiety gnawed at the edge of your thoughts, a sharp-toothed beast sinking into your resolve. still, you went. because it’s rafe. and you’ve never been able to stop yourself when it comes to him. his pull was magnetic, a gravity you couldn’t escape no matter how much it burned.

but as you approached the living room, your heart sank. voices. hers.

sofía.

your pulse quickened, thundering in your ears. you knew sofía had been hanging around more. her smile always too sweet, her touch lingering a second too long when she’d brush rafe’s arm at parties. you’d pretended not to notice. pretended to trust him. because rafe promised you, over and over again, that he was yours.

but now, as you turned the corner, you saw it.

rafe’s back was to you, broad shoulders taut under the strain of whatever this was. sofía stood inches from him, her hand on his chest, and before you could even process what was happening, she leaned in, pressing her lips to his.

for a moment, it felt like time stopped. your lungs seized, your vision blurred. the room tilted like you’d just stepped off a spinning carnival ride, nausea and disbelief crashing into you all at once.

“rafe,” you choked out, voice cracking under the weight of betrayal.

his head snapped up, his blue eyes wide with shock. “baby, it’s not—”

“this isn’t what it looks like!” sofía interrupted, a perfect picture of feigned innocence, but you saw the glint in her eye, the slight curl of her lips. she wanted this. she wanted you to see.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you spat, glaring at her. your hands were trembling now, the fight-or-flight adrenaline coursing through you making every nerve hum with raw energy. “are you seriously trying to act like i didn’t just see you?”

sofía shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. her expression was maddeningly calm, like she was toying with a piece of prey. “he didn’t kiss me back,” she said smoothly, like that somehow made it better.

“get the fuck out,” rafe growled, his voice low and dangerous. the venom in his tone made even sofía hesitate for a split second before she gave a mocking smile and sauntered out of the room, hips swaying like she’d won.

silence hung between you like a blade, sharp and ready to sever whatever fragile thread was left.

“you’re unbelievable,” you finally said, your voice trembling, barely containing the torrent of emotions surging within. “she’s been throwing herself at you for weeks and you just… what? let her?”

“no!” rafe took a step toward you, his face a mess of desperation and guilt, but you recoiled, and it hit him like a slap. “baby, i swear to god, i didn’t—i wouldn’t. she kissed me, i didn’t even—”

“but you didn’t stop her.”

he froze, his jaw tightening as your words landed. “what?”

“you didn’t fucking stop her, rafe.” your voice cracked, the dam breaking as tears spilled over despite your best effort to keep them at bay. “how am i supposed to believe you when you just stood there?”

“baby, please.” his voice broke, raw and pleading. he reached for you again, his hands trembling now, but you stepped back, shaking your head. the distance between you felt insurmountable.

“i trusted you,” you whispered, the words bitter on your tongue. “i fucking trusted you.”

“and you still can,” he insisted, his voice rising with desperation, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “you’re it for me. you’re the only one, i swear. she’s nothing, okay? she’s fucking nothing.”

“but i’m supposed to just ignore what i saw?” your voice rose too, the pain clawing its way out of your chest, demanding to be heard. “how many times do i have to wonder if i’m enough for you, rafe? if you even fucking want me?”

“you are,” he said fiercely, the raw intensity of his words cutting through the tension. he stepped closer, slow and deliberate, until you were backed against the wall. his hand cupped your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. “you’re everything. i need you to believe me.”

you shook your head, fresh tears spilling over, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. “i don’t know if i can.”

his hand dropped, his expression crumpling as the weight of your words crushed him. “don’t say that,” he begged, his voice barely above a whisper. “don’t fucking say that.”

“then prove it,” you said, your voice trembling but firm, the storm inside you raging. “prove to me that i’m not wasting my time loving you.”

his eyes searched yours, frantic, his chest rising and falling as he tried to find the words. and for the first time, you saw it. fear. raw, unfiltered fear. because he knew. he knew he was on the verge of losing you, and for once in his life, rafe cameron didn’t have a plan to fix it.

and the worst part? you weren’t sure you wanted him to.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @rafesbabygirlx

[rafescherie]

SALT IN THE SUGAR BOWL — RAFE CAMERON

pogue!rafe decides to end things before either of you get too attached — but it's already passed that point, for the both of you.

salt in the sugar bowl miniseries | you are currently on part one — part two - part three |

cherie's note — heavily inspired by letthespiceflow on c.ai c: been using that bot a bit, and wanted to write a fic based off of the intro of the bot! press here for the link to the bot!

rafe had never been one for the kook life — fancy boats, and stupid polo shirt outfits. more than one hundred spent on an outfit and it became one for 'special occasions', otherwise it would be covered in the filth of the garage floor, and deep obsidian motor oil. his hands were already stained, not something unusual for his line of work. despite his resentment for the kook life, and everyone on the other side of the island, they paid him a hell of a lot of money for the work he did — and he did it well. it had only been a few years since he had opened his own mechanic garage, months worth of projects to work on since the very first day. he was always kept busy — whether it was with upgrading a vehicle, or fixing somebody else's, he always had his hands full.

that's how he met you. so generously, he had offered to tow your vehicle back to the shop upon discovering it moiling the smoke from under it's hood — like your guardian angel sent from heaven, it was the least he could do for a pretty girl. his mother had taught him better, always trying to be a gentleman where he could be.

until today. this morning was different — the air hung thick with the aftermath of the hurricane in his brain from the night prior. he knew he needed to act on his thoughts, and do what was best. but he absolutely dreaded seeing the look on your face, and watching it completely shatter your heart.

"need the wrench, angel." he requested from beneath the heavy vehicle, grease smothered hand appearing from below to extend an open palm. bounding almost excitedly off of his leather-worn workbench, you placed the cold steel tool in his hand.

"so uh, listen," a grunt escaping his lips, absentmindedly going back to working on the vehicle. his muscles tensed with every torque of the wrench, biceps shining with a mixture of grease and sweat. the unmistakable sound of heavy bolts hitting the cold cement of the locally-owned garage rang through the bay, the hum of rock music playing throughout the shop.

his heart thundered against his chest — he felt like such a dickhead. it had only been a few months since the both of you had started seeing one another, and he was already planning on ending things. it wasn't something he wanted to do: it was something he needed to do. he hated knowing he was the reason you held yourself back from the possibility of college. no matter how much he had stressed to you that your schooling was important, especially given the opportunity of growing up on figure eight, it never seemed to stick with you. all you wanted was to be around him, and as much as he adored having you tag along every day, he didn't want to be the reason you would ruin your future.

"been thinking... maybe we should, cool things off, a bit."

the words stuck in your head for a minute, heart racing over the sentence. had you heard him right? there was certainly the possibility you had misunderstood. "what is that supposed to mean?"

rafe sighs, audible even from beneath the heavy vehicle he had been working on the last few months. the last thing he wanted to do was look at you, speak directly to you — the hurt in your eyes would eat him alive like no other, as if the guilt wasn't already working towards that alone.

"you know.." he starts, voice tame despite the race of his emotions, "you an' me."

you furrow your eyebrows, confused on the sudden shift. he had been so sweet just yesterday — peppering you with so much love you were sure you would have fainted on the spot. but maybe that was his attempt at sweethearting you — trying to help soothe the mental turmoil he was experiencing for ending things so suddenly with you. "what, why?"

he shakes his head, wishing you'd just drop it. but an explanation was what you deserved, after all. it was the least he could do. he drops the wrench onto the cement beneath the car, sliding out from underneath to kneel in front of you. he runs his tainted hand over his buzzed hair, another deep sigh falling from his nostrils.

"you're a smart girl, sweetheart. think about it — you're a kook, and i'm a pogue. you come from the rich side of the island, and i come from the cut. it wouldn't work," he starts, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around your fragile body, reassuring you it wasn't your fault, "besides, last thing you need in your life is someone who dropped out of high school, 'specially since you're headed to college in the fall."

ouch.

"rafe..." you trail on, biting the inside of your cheek in any sort of control against the tears that threatened to spill onto your flushed cheeks. "i- i thought you didn't care for all that?"

"i don't," he replies, ocean blue eyes looking around the shop in a desperate attempt to avoid eye contact.

"so where is this coming from?" you ask, heart thundering against your ribcage. desperation was laced within your voice, soft and trembling at the realization of the news you were being hit with.

he let out a sigh, hesitating before he opened his mouth to speak. there was no easy way to say this, so he opted for brutal honesty. his eyes never left yours as he said the words he dreaded most.

“it’s dangerous,” he started, his voice low as he slowly stood up in front of you. “it’s just asking for trouble. people would have my head. not to mention what your parents would say. we just…we can’t do this anymore.”

none of this was fair — neither to you, or to him. but there was no turning back now, the words had already popped out of his mouth, and the inevitable damage was already done. the look on your face was like a gut punch to his stomach, making him feel dizzy and sick all at the same time. he hated himself — really, he did.

one thing you knew for sure about rafe — he either didn’t care at all, or he cared too much. he always told you it didn’t matter what your parents thought or how anyone else would react; he promised he’d always take care of you. but as reality crashed down on you like a ton of bricks, that promise felt like a slap in the face. you hadn’t even realized you were crying until the hot tears streaked down your flushed cheeks, landing on the bare skin of your shoulders, exposed by your tank top.

"it's for the best, baby."

the oil on his hands smudges onto the cotton fabric of his wrinkled, disheveled shirt before he lifts them to cup your face in his palms. his blue eyes search yours, the sting of salty tears making it harder to hold his gaze. but you don’t let him linger — you swat his hands away and turn for the exit, your footsteps heavy against the garage floor.

you stupidly wish to hear his footsteps trailing behind you as you walk back to your parked car — but they never come. how foolish, how naive, to think he would follow. even after he fell in love with you. even after he let you fall in love with him.

[the-delta-42]

#thunderbaypress #planesacompletehistory 1/59 #sopwithcamel #aeroplane from #ww1 #worldwar1 #wwi #worldwari #papermodel #papercraft #modelplane #modelbuilding

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[pierregazly]

you were my best friend first ꨄ  charles leclerc

charles leclerc x reader

warnings: fluff, charles is the sappiest drunk, monaco 2024, mentions of drinking/being drunk [1k words]

request: 🫶🏻 Charles Leclerc + prompt 8!! Thank youuuu 🤍 ["you were my bestfriend, before you were anything else, love."]

The Monaco sun shined down on him, his head was tilted back, embracing the warmth that radiated against his skin. Soft sighs of triumph leaving his lips as beads of sweat began to gather against his forehead.

You couldn’t help the way your eyes followed his every move. He was exquisite in every way, and it was like he just knew it. The love that emitted from your heart for the Monegasque man was never-ending, all-consuming, and exactly the type of love you had always dreamt of, had always daydreamed about when you thought of the person that would once be that person for you.

Your eyes still shined bright with unshed tears, the sounds of the Monegasque anthem being sung from around you prompting one small bead of liquid to drip down your face. The pride racing through your body was indescribable. You could practically feel Charles’ happiness, his sheer relief, coursing through your own body.

Arthur’s arm was tossed over your shoulder, pulling your body against his side as he screeched the lyrics of the anthem into the open air, his own cheeks riddled with tears of pride for his big brother. Really, everyone around you had red cheeks, and a copious amount of shed tears.

This was the moment.

The moment everyone in Monaco had been yearning for since he qualified on pole, since they realized that this may finally be his chance. His family, his friends, his country-folk, his Monarchy, it was the moment every single person had been rooting for him for, for years.

It felt like forever while you waited for him to make his way down from the podium, being stopped by every person he passed kept him occupied, a toothy-smile so prominent on his features as his arms wrapped around almost every person who put their arm out to stop him in his path.

Once your eyes finally made contact with his, he rushed over, throwing his arms around your body and pulling you tight against him. You couldn’t decipher the words he was yelling into your ear, but the tone, the happiness, it was so obvious. 

“You did it, you did it!” He eagerly nodded his head down at you, pressing his lips messily against yours, the smile as he did so prompting the corners of your lips to tug up alongside his.

Charles pulled back to look down at you, his glassy eyes conveying words you knew he couldn’t say right now.

“Thank you for being here, mon coeur. I’m so… just thank you,” he said.

You smiled up at him, your words caught in your throat as you tried to keep the looming tears at bay. 

“I’ll always be here, Cha,” you said, a soft smile gracing your face as you continued to look up at him, feeling like the two of you were stuck in your own little world.

It didn’t take long for the festivities to begin. People graced the streets, singing songs of celebration, the clubs began opening their doors, the champagne had already been popped.

The gala dinner passed by quickly, the starstruck feeling of being so close to the Prince and Princess of Monaco was diminished by the drinks that continuously felt like they were being magically refilled in your hand. Charles’ arm hadn’t left your lower back, his body having begun to mould itself to you the longer the night progressed. 

“Are you still okay to go to the club, mon coeur?”

Quirking an eyebrow up at him in confusion, you nodded your head with a slight laugh.

“Cha… tonight’s about you. I will go anywhere you want me to, my love. Just take my hand and drag me along,” you said.

A grin replaced the soft look on his face, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head as he pulled your body tight against his again.

The music in the club was thunderous. There was no other way to describe the energy of the environment as anything other than triumphant. Everyone felt like this was a triumph for them, watching the person who had felt for years that Monaco could never love him back… to finally feel the love that he had always given so freely. 

Neither of you had realized how much you had drank until you were holding each other up, the Monaco flag held over your heads as someone; still unsure as to who, dragged the two of you along and out to an Uber. 

Charles giggled in your ear every time his feet flew out from underneath him, almost dragging the two of you down with every third step he took.

“Can’t believe you were really here to see me do it, baby,” he whispered in your ear, once the two of you were settled in the Uber and back on the road.

“M’good luck charm, mon coeur,” he nuzzled his head into your shoulder, prompting a shiver to shoot through your body.

“Oh Cha, wouldn’t have missed it for the world. You’re my best friend, my love,” you responded, a soft smile on your heated cheeks.

“You were my best friend, before you were anything else, mon coeur. Gonna talk about how I couldn’t have won Monaco without you during my wedding speech, mon coeur. Make everyone jealous, cause you’re so great and you’re all mine,” he rambled on, slurring his way through his multiple declarations of love for you.

Drunk or sober, the feelings that swam through your body had you nuzzling closer to the Monegasque as your apartment building came into view. You had loved him for years, had been the backbone of so many unfortunate weekend endings; had been there for every high and low in his Formula 1 career.

Every unhappy Sunday had led to this moment, Charles whispering declarations of love into your shoulder, as the banners and chants continued amongst the country. The raw, unfiltered love for the man beside you prompting drunken tears to fill your eyes.

He was Monaco’s hero, but he was your best friend first.

im so sorry it's taking me so long to get these out lol... i havent been in the biggest writing mood lately, but i finished a book tonight in two hours and decided i needed to finish this one. this one NEEDED to get written. love you all 💗

[arixella]

𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚜

╰┈➤ pairing: Eustass Kid x reader

a/n: none

summary: After you’re injured in battle, Kid shows his overprotective side by taking charge, tending to your wounds, and demanding you stay close to him, revealing how much he cares despite his rough demeanor.

wc: 620

contains: fluff

The clash of swords echoed across the deck, blending with the distant rumble of thunder. You ducked under an opponent’s swing, your blade catching the moonlight as you struck back. The battle had erupted without warning—a rival pirate crew ambushing your ship under the cover of darkness.

You could hear Eustass Kid’s unmistakable roar over the chaos, his mechanical arm tearing through the enemy like paper. His crimson hair gleamed like blood in the dim light, and his towering presence was impossible to miss.

You were holding your own, of course. You’d trained too hard and fought too long to let anyone think otherwise. But as you dispatched yet another attacker, a sharp pain lanced through your side. You looked down to see the hilt of a dagger buried just above your hip.

“Y/N!”

Kid’s voice cut through the battle like a cannon blast. You barely had time to pull the blade out before he was there, his fury blazing. With a sweep of his mechanical arm, the pirate who’d stabbed you was sent flying into the sea.

“You’re hurt,” he growled, his sharp eyes scanning you for more injuries.

“It’s nothing,” you protested, wincing as you pressed a hand to the wound.

“Nothing?” Kid’s voice was dangerously low, a storm brewing beneath his words. “You’re bleeding.”

“It’s a scratch,” you insisted, though the dizziness creeping in said otherwise.

“Shut up and stay behind me,” he snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Before you could retort, he turned and threw himself back into the fray. Every movement of his was ferocious, calculated, and devastating. It wasn’t long before the remaining enemies either lay defeated or fled, leaving the deck littered with bodies.

Kid was back at your side in an instant, his hands—flesh and metal—gripping your shoulders as he looked you over. “What the hell were you thinking, taking on a guy twice your size?”

“I can handle myself,” you muttered, though your legs felt shaky beneath you.

“Clearly not,” he shot back, his sharp glare softening only slightly as he saw your pale face. “You’re lucky you didn’t get yourself killed.”

He lifted you into his arms before you could protest, carrying you below deck. You knew better than to argue when he was in this mood.

Once in the medical bay, Kid set you down on a cot and grabbed a first-aid kit. He worked quickly but with surprising care, his large hands surprisingly gentle as he cleaned and dressed your wound.

“You’ve gotta stop scaring the hell out of me,” he muttered, his voice quieter now but no less intense.

You blinked up at him, surprised. “You? Scared?”

“Don’t push it,” he grumbled, though his gaze softened as he met your eyes. “You’re part of my crew, y/n. I’m not losing you to some idiot with a knife.”

You smiled faintly, touched despite his rough edges. “I didn’t know you cared so much.”

He huffed, but the faintest smirk tugged at his lips. “Don’t get used to it.”

As he finished bandaging you, his hand lingered on yours for a moment longer than necessary.

“Next time,” he said, his voice low but steady, “you stick close to me. Got it?”

“Got it,” you said softly, the weight of his words settling in your chest like an anchor.

And as the ship rocked gently on the waves, you realized that behind all his bluster and steel, there was a man who’d tear the world apart to keep you safe.

♡♡♡

© 2024 arixella | please do not plagiarize or translate any of my work without my consent.

[faith-forgxtten-land]

Hihihi!

I'm not sure if your requests are open, but the fic I just read was a request and was posted within the last 24 hrs, so I'm gonna take the chance that they are (can you tell I'm autistic yet?😂)

Could I request a slightly nsfw (just a lil spicy) Bay!Raph fic where the Fem! Reader is watching him workout and offhandedly mentions that she wishes she could lift as much as he does?

Her question prompts him to let her lay on the bench and "lift" the weights (obviously he's carrying almost all of the weight). Just a corny little piece that shows our Big Red some love.

Thank you for your time!💜

Spotting | Raphael

requests are open dw!! honestly feel free to send as many requests as you want at any time, if they're not open you'll know because i'll plaster it somewhere obvious. and corny pieces are the best kind <3

since its valentine's day, i kind of went extra corny with a vague valentine's plot... i hope you like it and lemme know what you think! it's only slightly spicy and suggestive because tbh i wasn't sure how far to go.

warnings: suggestive, slight choking? (oops) valentine's day mentions, single people try not cry too much. everyone is 18+!! never proofread

summary: it's valentine's day and for some reason you have nothing better to do than watch raphael lift weights

word count: 1195

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Why are you lifting weights on Valentine’s Day?”

“Why are you watching me lift weights on Valentine’s Day?” Raphael retorts quickly and it’s such a good question that you pause.

Well, then. You sniff in mock indignance. “I’ll have you know that I was asked out by 12.5 different people ahead of today, thank you very much.”

You can’t see it, but you can tell he’s smirking. “12.5?”

“I figure Mikey only counts for 0.5 since I’m pretty sure he’d ask every woman he sees if he could.”

Raph snorts and your mouth pulls into a stupidly wide smile knowing you’ve amused him. He’s so relaxed like this, when it’s just the two of you, and your smile turns soft at the thought. There’s no one you’d rather spend the day with – Valentine’s Day or not – and the view isn’t bad either.

Speaking of... you tilt your head. Rivulets of sweat trickle down his green skin and you bite your lip watching the flexing of his muscles. He’s so much bigger than you, you’re pretty sure his bicep is bigger than your head, and he could cover your entire face with his palm – he’d done it just yesterday when you wouldn’t stop pestering him about a romcom you wanted to watch (it’s okay, you knew they were secretly his favourite kind of movie too, he didn’t have to protest so much – even grown turtles should be allowed to indulge in some Richard Gere and Julia Roberts). 

His size had intimidated you at first, had made you hesitant, but now it makes your knees weak and makes your heart accelerate with something entirely different to fear. It’s quiet apart from his breathing and the clang of his weights and you wonder if he can hear the thundering of your pulse.

“You’re staring.”

“Hmm?”

His muscles flex again and you’re quick to press your thighs together. You’re certain it's deliberate at this point. “You’re staring,” he repeats, his voice a little deeper.

You flush as you realise what he’s saying. “Not my fault you can bench press a truck,” you grumble to hide your embarrassment. “I’m jealous.”

The terrapin smirks again and sits up, his eyes bright. “C’mere.”

“Ex-squeeze me?”

It’s Raph’s turn to grumble. “You’ve been hanging around Mikey too much.”

You grin because it's true and walk slowly towards where he’s waiting. Your feet are clearly more sensible and less fuzzy than your brain (you are definitely not still thinking – and staring – at his arms, nope) because they stop just before you can stand between his legs. His eyes run along the curves of your calves and his gaze feels like a dizzying caress as it glides up your torso, lingering on the bare skin around your throat in a hungry way that makes you swallow just to watch him watch the movement. “What’s the plan, Red?” 

Your voice doesn’t feel like your own and you’re kind of impressed by how put-together you sound. It’s not the breathless wheeze you expected, it's low and sultry and suggestive and your eyes flutter as his breath hitches. The two of you have flirted before but this feels different. It’s intimate beyond your typical friendly banter and you have the urge to touch him.

He reaches for you first, pulling you closer and resting his hands on your hips. His hands are huge, and your mouth feels dry as he squeezes a little too hard to be innocent. “Raph...”

He squeezes again at your murmur. “Lie down.” His voice is rough and you shiver. He brushes his fingers across the goosebumps he’s raised, and you let him manoeuvre you with ease.

It probably looks so silly, and you fight the incredulous laughter that bubbles in your chest. The bar above you is ridiculously oversized and heavy and the thought of you lifting it is absurd and your laugh can’t be stopped this time as you look at the green-skinned ninja above you. His lips are twitching as you cackle and your eyes focus on the scar that decorates them, longing to soothe your tongue over it, as you regain your composure. “You good?”

“I’m good,” you reassure him. He’s so fucking cute, you think. You can see his nervousness now even if he tries to play it off and you feel like you’ve just swallowed a bucketful of butterflies. “Are you spotting?”

Raph runs his tongue – you do not shift your hips at how thick it is – across his upper lip, over that scar you want to taste for yourself. He looks torn for a moment, building himself up, and places his heavy hands on the bar above you. “Something like that,” he agrees before instructing you on how to position your hands.

You push up and immediately swear at the impossible weight. Raph snickers and you pout and glare simultaneously. “Don’t be mean.”

“You haven’t seen me be mean, baby.”

Oh. Your glare falters. That’s just not fair and he knows it. He’s grinning now and you curse him in your head. You push again and this time the bar lifts, as light as a feather. His hands are still wrapped around it and you’re not lifting a single thing, but the moment feels heavy. He hasn’t let his eyes drift from yours and you don’t dare look away. It feels intense and intimate and you can admit that your skin is on fire and your pulse is throbbing knowing how easily he’s carrying a weight that you couldn’t budge with all your might.

He guides the bar back down after a moment that could have been seconds or minutes or hours and you release a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. He’s still looking at you as you sit up and he invades your personal space. You have to tilt your head back to maintain eye-contact and you shudder as his palm cups your chin.

He’s so tall and imposing and you have to bite your tongue as his hand trails further down. You let him wrap his fingers around your neck and you rest your hand on top of his in encouragement, unable to stop a needy whine as he heeds your silent request and squeezes gently. His pupils are blown and he’s breathing harder than he had been while working out and you feel smug knowing you’ve caused this reaction. In a blink he’s pushed you back and he’s leaning over you. He smells like sweat and his skin is damp from exertion and it's kind of gross and it really shouldn’t be turning you on, but it is and your legs spread involuntarily.

You expect him to close the gap between your lips as he hovers above you and your eyes that had fluttered shut open again when it’s clear he has no intention of moulding your mouths together. He’s got a soft look in his eyes paired with a devilish smile and it makes your chest burn. You don’t expect the next words out of his mouth.

“Be my Valentine?”

You splutter and he laughs as he finally presses his lips to yours.

[thesuperiorrobin]

Rainy days~

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Fem!Reader

Word count: 738

Warning: mentions of make outs. Reader likes thunderstorms, reader and Damian being grossly flirtatious.

A/n: i have been a lot of thunderstorms here where I live.

You like the sound of the rain hitting against your bay window as you sit down next to it with pillows surrounding your body. It puts you at ease. But it goes dead on your ears as you deepen the kiss with Damian. Hands on both his cheeks as lays in between your legs, supporting his own weight by keeping both hands on each side of your thighs. As you eagerly pull him closer then he already is, he almost loses his balance—chest to chest. Oh he likes it you think to yourself feeling him lean closer in. Damian’s not the first to break free from you—it’s you who does it out of the lack of oxygen in your lungs. There’s a dazed expression on the boy's face as you pull away, his eyes never leaving your lips. He wants to go back in but he waits until you fully have your breath back, until then he fixes his bent down posture but still holds his position in between your legs.

“It’s almost like the rain puts you in some sort of trance every time” he says laughing a little as he wipes his mouth with the back of hand. A small hum leaves past your lips as you lean your head up against your window

“Rain sets the mood, No?” Your hand reaches up to trace his jaw gently “it’s very…..I don’t know. It sets the mood "

"mhm I wonder what mood that is” there’s a hit of sarcasm laced in his voice, you roll your eyes and gently place both hands on his cheeks

``please” you say “you aren’t complaining. You like this mood” he lets out a soft hum nodding gently as he does so.

“I don’t think I’ve ever complained about this mood of yours, honestly” Damian leans in closer, whispering against your swollen lips ``Rainy days like these are my favorite”

“Mine too, especially the ones where I get to have you all to myself” he goes in for another kiss and you do the same, but the sudden flash of light up in the sky and the delayed sound of thunder catches your attention as you peel yourself off him. He didn’t like it, groaning as you stared out the window with a bright smile on your face.

“Woah! Holy shit! Did you see that?!” You point out excitedly out the window, finger pressed up against the slightly foggy glass. “It looked so cool!” The mood has been changed drastically, from one mood to another as you seem to idolize the faint light and loud boom. Damian doesn’t keep his position in between your legs for long as he sits straight up and leans up against the wall with his arm crossed over his chest. He seems unfazed, but he really isn’t. He’s more annoyed than anyone at the moment. Finger tapping against his forearm as he watches you eye the sky through the window. Faint words leaving your mouth as you mumbles numbers. On the sixteenth mark there’s another flash of light and an even louder boom. You clap your hands amazed.

“It amazes me how the littlest things always pique your interest” you turn to face Damian, green eyes staring into yours.

“The littlest things are always the most fascinating” you shrug being smiling “and besides, I wouldn't consider thunder to be the littlest things. If you know what I mean”

Damian glares down at you as you laugh. “You have a smart mouth on you tonight”

“I learn from the best” a dramatic sigh leaves past your lips “we should go dance out in the rain "

"and risk getting you sick?” he scoffs “no way. I would rather prefer if you and I stayed here, in the likes of your bedroom where it’s warm and safe”

“you sound just like my mom” you frown “it’s weird”

“I think your mother would too prefer it if we both stayed inside” he opens his arms, a single for you to climb in and you do so without question. Setting one his chest and in between his legs comfortably before he traps you with his arms. “I think my mom would prefer us outside and dancing”

“No she would not”

you let out a small huff “you’re no fun”

“I’ve been told that countless times” you hear a small rumble in his chest as he laughs.

“That’s actually so depressing”

“Just focus on the thunder”

[betweenujb]

nothing better

sana x jihyo

warnings: fluff, smut, soft morning sex, slight somno

The rain started late last night. It was pouring when Jihyo let her eyes finally close and surrender to some much needed sleep. She could vaguely remember the light rumble of thunder outside of the little cottage they rented and the sound of the rain pattering against the window.

That same rain woke Jihyo up early in the morning. The sun had barely started to rise as she stretched her body, feeling stiff but well rested. She laid her head back against her pillow and let out a long yawn, blinking a few times to wake herself up a bit more.

She didn't really want to wake up yet, given that she had gone to bed late, but she knew that if she went back to sleep, she'd just toss and turn. So, Jihyo carefully pushed the covers from her body, careful not to disturb the still sleeping girl beside her.

She stretched again and walked towards the multi-paned bay window and stared out at the expanse of land beyond the cottage. It was quiet. Much quieter than Seoul, and it was something Jihyo thought she could get used to. As much as she loved the hustle and bustle of the city and constantly being busy with schedules and interviews, she also liked not having anything to do.

As Jihyo stared out the window, she glanced behind her before turning back to unhook the latch carefully and quietly in between the windows. She pushed the right window open slightly and put her hand out to test how heavy the rain was. Deeming it was a light enough sprinkle and not one of those weird sideways rains, she pushed the window open halfway. The sound of the rain was louder now, but only just.

Jihyo took a deep breath, a sleepy smile drawn on her lips as the smell of wet grass filled her nose. Spring just started, and it was perfect for the French countryside. She had been in Paris with the girls a few months ago for the tour, but she wanted to see more of the country. She also wanted to have a little alone time with one of her favorite people.

Her thoughts were soon interrupted by a half-asleep groan. Sana rolled over, instinctively reaching for Jihyo’s body that hadn’t been in bed for the past ten minutes.

Jihyo softly chuckled and crept back to the bed. She slipped under the covers and her arm found its way back across Sana’s waist with ease. She pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her lover’s head, the scent of her vanilla and cinnamon shampoo filling Jihyo’s senses.

Although she wasn’t going to go back to sleep, the peace she felt just lying beside Sana and the feeling of her warm body pressed against her own, was enough to keep her in bed for a little while longer. Jihyo closed her eyes so she could focus on the sound of the rain and the feeling of Sana’s silky lingerie top against the palm of her hand as she traced small circles on her belly.

Time seemed to slow down despite it being the last full day of their little getaway to the French countryside. They had only gotten three days to themselves, but they were the most relaxing and healing three days that Jihyo could remember.

The longer Jihyo laid beside Sana, her front pressed close against her girlfriend’s back, the more aware she became of the heat she radiated. The more she noticed the soft skin of Sana’s legs against her own. And the more she felt the swell of Sana’s ass pressed against her sleep shorts.

Jihyo took in all the new senses that flooded her brain and took a deep breath. She shifted slightly to try and relieve the now prominent ache between her thighs, but Sana only scooted closer. Despite being fast asleep, Jihyo and Sana had slept in the same bed enough that the older girl’s body instinctively sought out the younger’s and vice versa.

After a few minutes of trying to control herself, Jihyo gave up. They had gone at it for hours last night, but seeing Sana’s beautiful body in the early morning light was something different. Her skin seemed to glow, and her sweet scent was intoxicating.

Carefully, Jihyo slid her hand under Sana’s barely there lingerie top. She traced her fingers over the flat of Sana’s belly, her touch featherlight as she made her way up to tentatively touch just below her breast.

When Sana didn’t move, her breathing still steady and slow, Jihyo cupped Sana’s breast. It was warm and soft and fit perfectly in her hand.

Jihyo took a shaky breath as she gently kneaded Sana’s breast in her hand. She took her time, just brushing her fingers over her lover’s nipples before she moved her hand back to her belly. She knew Sana’s nipples were sensitive, and she didn’t want her to wake up just yet.

Her heart practically beating out of her chest, Jihyo moved her hand lower until it rested on the waistband of Sana’s panties. They were lacy and pink — perfect for Sana. They were as smooth as the silk top that Sana was wearing, and Jihyo wanted nothing more than to rip them off her. But Jihyo knew that she needed to be slow and take her time.

It wasn’t the first time that Jihyo had touched Sana while she was sleeping, but it had been a while. Sana gave her the green light to do whatever to her body while she was sleeping, but Jihyo was still a little hesitant. She liked it when Sana was awake. She liked hearing the beautiful sounds that fell from her lips when she hit that perfect spot, and she liked seeing the flush on her cheeks.

Jihyo let out a breathy gasp as she pressed her fingers against the wet spot on Sana’s panties.

Did she really get this wet just from a few light touches? She’s not even awake.

Encouraged by Sana’s subconscious reactions, Jihyo slowly pushed her hand into Sana’s panties. She laid her forehead against the back of Sana’s head to muffle the gasp she was about to let out. Sana was even wetter than she thought and the slick covering Jihyo’s fingers already was enough to drive her overboard.

Jihyo teased her fingers up and down Sana’s dripping wet folds a few times before she pushed a shaky finger inside. Sana was still tight despite the hours they spent ravishing each other last night. Her walls were soft and hot and hugged Jihyo’s finger perfectly. She carefully moved in and out of Sana’s tight heat. It was like it was being hugged by velvet clouds.

It only took a few seconds before Jihyo’s need for more took over. Her brain was clouded by the feeling of Sana’s wet walls squeezing her fingers and the overwhelmingly strong scent of something so undeniably Sana filling the small room.

Jihyo pulled her finger out and carefully slid Sana’s panties off. She tossed them somewhere in the room to join the rest of their clothes that were hastily stripped off the night before. Her free hand gripped Sana’s waist as she tugged her closer.

Before she dipped her fingers back into Sana’s folds, Jihyo brushed her lover’s hair back from her neck. She gently nipped and sucked at the soft skin on her neck, a small smirk on her lips as she kissed over the red and purple marks already there.

Leaving just one more mark to go along with the rest that were peppered along Sana’s sensitive skin, Jihyo moved her fingers back to Sana’s pussy. The heat it was radiating drew Jihyo even closer as she pushed two fingers into her lover.

She let out a quiet groan as Sana’s walls stretched to accommodate one more finger. She started out slow to let her body get accustomed to the intrusion before she gradually picked up her speed.

Sana stayed asleep, her breathing slow and steady for the first few thrusts. Soon, though, the all too familiar stretch and pleasant ache of being filled sent signals to her brain.

With her eyes still closed and her breathing a bit more labored, Sana took a shaky breath. She wasn't fully awake yet, but the feeling of Jihyo's fingers curling inside of her sent a beautiful reminder of last night to her thoughts.

Still under the guise of sleep, Jihyo's lips brushed against the shell of Sana's ear. She gently added a third finger as Sana's slick started to run down her hand.

"You feel so good, love," Jihyo whispered as she curled all three of her fingers. She felt the spongy spot that drew the most pleasure from her girlfriend and jumped a bit when she heard the whimper from Sana's mouth.

"Don't stop." Sana's words were barely audible as she laced her hand with Jihyo's own on that was holding her waist.

Jihyo never had any intention to stop but still nodded. She squeezed Sana's hand as she started to move her fingers in and out of the velvet folds faster and faster.

"I can't believe how wet you got. Just from me holding you?" Jihyo chuckled softly and kissed the soft skin just behind Sana's ear.

All that Sana could do was let out a gasp and nod. It had been no more than a few hours since Jihyo's fingers had been inside of her, but it felt like they had been apart for weeks. Every single time they made love, it was like the first time all over again.

"Ji- ah- close." Sana bit her lip, her eyebrows furrowed together as she arched her back. Her hips instinctively thrusted into Jihyo's hand in a poor attempt to get her girlfriend's fingers to reach deeper.

"You gonna cum for me, love?" Jihyo's heavy breathing matched Sana's as her hand moved at a lightning speed. The wet and sloppy sound of her fingers thrusting in and out of Sana along with their labored moans filled the cottage bedroom. They drifted out of the window and into the early morning air of the countryside.

Jihyo squeezed Sana's right hand tighter as she curled her fingers on every upward thrust into her. She angled her hand inward a bit more so she could apply pressure to Sana's clit, rubbing it with in small, deep circles.

"Fuck! Ji!" Sana's cry was met with a few more pumps of Jihyo's fingers. She unlaced their hands quickly and reached backward to hold onto Jihyo's head, wanting her girlfriend as close as possible. Sana's body trembled as her thighs clamped down on Jihyo's wrist. Her walls tightened as she let out a high-pitched moan.

Despite the vice grip on her wrist and her fingers, Jihyo managed to curl her fingers and rub Sana's clit. Her breath came out in pants as Sana's body convulsed through her orgasm. Jihyo's whole hand was covered in Sana's cum and their bodies were coated in a thin layer of sweat.

After a few moments of another powerful orgasm, Sana's thighs slowly relaxed and her grip on Jihyo's fingers loosened. Her breathing was heavy as her hand drifted back to Jihyo's hand on her waist.

Sana took a deep breath, whining when Jihyo finally pulled her fingers out. She wiped them on a stray shirt laying at their feet and kissed the back of Sana's head.

"Good morning."

Sana leisurely turned in Jihyo's arms. Her hair was dampened from sweat and her vanilla and cinnamon scent was now mixed with the scent of sex. Jihyo thought it was perfect.

"Good morning," Jihyo mumbled, a goofy grin plastered to her face. Sana cupped Jihyo's cheek and brushed her thumb over her girlfriend's lips.

"You haven't woken me up like that in quite a while," Sana said as she pressed a gentle kiss to Jihyo's forehead.

"You were sleeping so peacefully and you looked so beautiful. I couldn't resist." Jihyo's hand stayed wrapped around Sana's waist. She traced small circles on her hip bone with her thumb as she memorized every inch of her skin.

"Well, maybe," Sana started as she pressed another kiss to Jihyo's forehead, "we could start all over. I wasn't really able to enjoy all of it, you know."

Jihyo playfully rolled her eyes and kissed Sana's cheek. The soft patter of rain had finally stopped. The morning air was now filled with quiet birdsong and a gentle rustle of leaves.

"I think that could be arranged."