#Blaze LED

[the-phantom-peach]

So I saw Sonic Movie 3

[homeappliance11]

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[tatck]

wha what if every chaos emerald had a guardian 👉👈 and what if the chaos emeralds didn't look like the chaos emeralds at all and what if they all had special powers and what if-

[randomheros]

Hey, so Blaze is a princess from another world/dimension.

Silver is from the future.

How...how did these two meet? and what happened that made Blaze decide to join him?

[cookinguptales]

Really torn between "this story is really important to me and I want people to read it" and "isn't one of the reasons I decided to never enter the professional publishing world because marketing myself stresses me the fuck out? and also I'm extremely bad at it??"

Things to consider as I contemplate making a post and blazing it on tumblr.

[soulsty]

Drew some Sonics

[icharchivist]

thinking about how in DAI's Jaws of Hakkon the spirits have been calling the Inquisitor "the one who blazes like fire".

thinking about how Cole supports that because he says in a few banters that he can't see through the Inquisitor because they're too bright, because of the anchor

thinking about the confirmation that elves come from spirits

thinking about how Sera was always hinted to be closer to her spiritual nature and that it's, in a way, likely why she rejected current elven culture

thinking about how Sera's ears point where the Fade is, how Sera sees more into the Breach, how Sera has instincts she can't explain that makes her more Elfy

thinking about Solas saying she had "a purity of purpose", and also says "We are not so far apart, you and I." when Sera describes how she sees the Breach

thinking about how, when meeting Sera, the first thing she asks the Inquisitor is "so you're the one who glows?"

[breawycker]

Thank you for sharing 😊

being an adult means I can use my big boy money (which is supposed to go towards stupid things like rent or food but who the hell does that) to force people to look at Melly.

look at her. she’s simply so Shaped

[foldingfittedsheets]

In honor of my nine year anniversary with my beloved wife please enjoy a story from our third date.

Just gonna reemphasize that. Our third date. We were still very much getting to know each other. We were virtually strangers.

We had been intending to do a meetup at a nerdy cafe with a group of people, but unbeknownst to us there had been a tragedy in the group and everyone else bailed. My beloved and I made the best of it. We had a nice date. I horrified them by eating sliders in three bites but it wasn’t a deal breaker.

Afterward I was driving us back to my place when a car came up and rear ended me. It was a pretty light bump but I was still like, well. That car hit me, time to pull over and exchange info.

Except the other car decided to instead shoot past me and drive away.

Infuriated, I pursued.

From the passenger seat, a captive on a third date with someone else in control of the car and pursuing strangers into the darkness, my beloved said, “Uh, what’s the plan here?”

“They hit me! We need to exchange information!”

Indeed. I did not have a plan. The plan was that when you hit someone with your car you exchanged insurance information. I would pursue until that happened.

The offending car led us a merry chase and as I followed through winding pitch black forest roads I felt the tiniest inkling of misgiving. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea? Pursuing someone into the darkness? But I persisted.

I wasn’t being propelled by a plan or even stubbornness but instead I followed a blazing righteousness. Fundamentally I knew that when you hit someone’s car you talked to them afterward. It was an inexorable fact. They would not escape the talking portion of this event.

When the car pulled into a trailer park I fully realized that this was not, in fact, a good idea. Inside the other car was a couple who were clearly having an argument and it seemed increasingly unlikely that they had insurance info to swap.

With a sigh I said, “Will you pull out your flashlight? Let’s see if my bumper is damaged.”

We got out of the car and inspected my bumper together. It actually looked fine, and I was about to call it when the woman got out. It was instantly clear she was under some chemical influence, her pupils dilated absurdly large. She attempted a poor performance as she said, “Oh, did we hit you?”

“Yeah,” I said flatly, “but I think it’s fine. I don’t see any damage.”

“We weren’t sure, uh, if we did, we didn’t think we did but we just weren’t sure.” She shifted anxiously foot to foot.

It was time to leave, a fact which became clearer when the man stepped out, eyes buzzing in his skull. He feigned innocence and radiated an aura of someone barely tethered to reality. My beloved and I waved them off and got back in my car to drive away.

As we did my beloved let out a huge gust of air as if they’d been holding their breath.

“Are you okay?”

“I was so squared up ready to fight them,” they said. “I’m glad we didn’t.”

I turned to look at them in astonishment. “Why would we have fought?”

“Are you joking? You followed them at 11pm to a trailer park! The second we got out of the car I was in a fighting stance. What did you think would happen?”

“I- I don’t know. That we’d talk and then go home? But. I can see now that driving after a car that tried to do a hit and run may not have been that safe…”

“You think!!!”

We sat in silence for a while before we burst out in relieved laughter.

“You were ready to fight?” I asked.

“I do kung fu! That guy looked so shady, I was ready to kick his ass, but I really didn’t want to.”

Unbelievably, they agreed to more dates, and eventually married me, but more often than not they’re the one driving.

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[moonlightwritingf1]

One Bold Comment | OP81

🎀 summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N has a thing for Oscar's teeth. She jokingly says she wants to ride his face—and then she does.

🎀 pairing ━━━━━━━ Oscar Piastri x she!reader

🎀 word count ━━━━━━━ 1.5k

🎀 warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, oral sex (f receiving)

Based on this request.

The soft hum of the evening filled the room, the kind of quiet that made every sound feel amplified—the rustle of fabric, the faint clink of a glass being set down, the way Oscar’s breath hitched ever so slightly when y/n leaned in closer. Their legs were tangled on the couch, her head resting against his shoulder, fingers absently tracing patterns on his thigh. It was one of those rare moments where the world outside didn’t exist, just the two of them and the lazy comfort of their new relationship.

“You know,” y/n started, her voice light, teasing, “I really love your teeth.”

Oscar blinked, caught off guard. He tilted his head to look at her, his eyes narrowing with playful suspicion. “My… teeth?” he repeated, the corner of his mouth twitching into that subtle, dry smirk she adored.

“Yeah,” she said, sitting up just enough to meet his gaze. Her lips curved into a grin, the kind that always spelled mischief. “They’re cute. Like bunny teeth. It’s adorable.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Adorable, huh? That’s a first.” His tone was casual, but there was something flickering beneath the surface, a spark of curiosity or maybe amusement.

She tilted her head, her grin widening. “What? I can’t compliment you now?”

“Oh, you can,” he said, leaning back into the cushions, his arm casually draped behind her. “But bunny teeth? Really?”

Her laugh bubbled out, unrestrained, and she nudged him playfully. “Don’t act all shy about it. You know they’re great. They’re… I don’t know. Kinda sexy.”

His eyebrows shot up, and for a moment, he looked genuinely surprised. “Sexy?” he echoed, his voice low, almost incredulous. “My teeth?”

“Yes!” she insisted, her tone mock-serious. “So sexy, in fact…” She paused, her eyes locking with his, a mischievous glint lighting them up. “I kinda wanna ride your face.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and electric, and for a beat, neither of them moved. Then Oscar’s face shifted—subtly at first, the smirk fading into something more intent, his gaze darkening as if he was turning the idea over in his mind. There was a pause, a heartbeat of silence, before he finally spoke, his voice quieter now, softer but edged with something new. “Is that so?”

Y/n felt a flicker of surprise ripple through her. This wasn’t the usual Oscar—quiet, composed, methodical. The Oscar she knew would have laughed this off, deflected with a witty remark, maybe even blushed. But this? This was different. His calm demeanor had shifted, replaced by a quiet intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

Before she could respond, he stood, his movements smooth and deliberate. He reached for her hand, pulling her gently to her feet. Her heart skipped a beat as she followed him, their fingers intertwined, the warmth of his palm grounding her even as her thoughts raced.

He led her to the bedroom without a word, the air between them thick with anticipation. When they stepped inside, he turned to face her, his expression unreadable but his eyes blazing with something she couldn’t quite place. Slowly, he reached for the hem of her shorts, his fingertips brushing against her skin as he slid them down her legs, letting them pool at her feet. His hands lingered for a moment, tracing the curve of her thighs, before he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her underwear and tugged them down too.

She stood there, bare from the waist down, her breath shallow, her pulse quickening. His eyes never left hers as he walked her backward toward the bed, his touch firm but gentle. When the backs of her knees hit the edge of the mattress, he guided her to sit, then stepped back, his gaze still locked onto hers.

“Sit down,” he instructed, his voice steady but laced with a quiet command that made her stomach flip. She complied, easing herself onto the bed, her body trembling with a mix of nerves and excitement. He climbed onto the bed after her, positioning himself flat on his back, his head propped up slightly by the pillows. Then he looked up at her, his expression softening just enough to reassure her.

“Come here. Hover over me.” he said, his voice low, inviting.

Her pulse quickened. Hover over him? She hesitated for a split second, unsure if she’d heard him right. But the way he was looking at her—steady, unflinching—left no room for doubt. Swallowing hard, she climbed onto the bed, positioning herself above him, her knees on either side of his shoulders. Her thighs trembled slightly as she hovered there, acutely aware of how exposed she was. This was new territory, uncharted waters, and the weight of his gaze on her only heightened the tension.

Oscar’s hands found her thighs, his grip firm but not forceful, guiding her closer until she was hovering directly over his face. His breath was warm against her skin, and she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. She glanced down at him, her eyes wide, searching his for some sign of reassurance.

“Ride me,” he said simply, his voice calm but charged with an intensity that took her breath away. His hands tightened on her thighs, pulling her down until she felt the first brush of his tongue against her.

A gasp escaped her lips, her body jolting at the sensation. She hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected him to take charge like this. Oscar was usually so reserved, so careful, but tonight… tonight he was different. Tonight, he was bold, commanding, and it was doing things to her that she hadn’t anticipated.

“Use me,” he murmured against her, his voice muffled but clear enough to send a fresh wave of heat coursing through her. His tongue moved deliberately, exploring, tasting, driving her closer to the edge with each stroke. She instinctively reached for his hair, her fingers tangling in the soft strands as she ground against him, her hips moving of their own accord.

Every nerve in her body was alight, every touch sending sparks racing through her veins. She moaned softly, her head tipping back as pleasure coiled tight in her core, building with every flick of his tongue, every nip of his teeth. He was relentless, his focus unwavering, and she could feel herself unraveling under his attention.

“Oscar,” she breathed, her voice trembling, her grip tightening in his hair. “Fuck, Oscar…”

His response was a low hum of approval, vibrating against her sensitive flesh. His hands slid up to grip her hips, fingers digging into the softness there, urging her to move faster, harder. She obliged, her thighs trembling as she ground herself down onto his mouth, her body arching with every flick of his tongue. The room filled with the sound of her ragged breathing, uneven and desperate, mingling with the wet, hungry noises coming from below.

She could feel the heat building, coiling tighter and tighter in her core, each stroke of his tongue pushing her closer to the edge. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling just enough to make him groan against her, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure through her. She rocked her hips, grinding herself against his mouth, the pressure exquisite, almost too much but not enough all at once.

“Oscar,” she gasped, her voice breaking as she felt the first wave of release cresting. “Oh god, Oscar—”

His hands tightened on her hips, holding her steady as he devoured her, his tongue relentless, his lips sealing around her clit, sucking gently before flicking it again. She cried out, her back arching sharply as the tension snapped, waves of pleasure crashing over her, dragging her under in a dizzying rush. Her legs shook, her thighs clamping around his head as she rode out the crest, her fingers clutching at his hair like a lifeline. She rode it out, grinding against his tongue until she couldn’t take it anymore, until she collapsed onto the bed beside him, her chest heaving, her skin slick with sweat.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing. Then she turned her head to look at him, her vision still hazy. He was watching her, his lips glistening, his eyes dark with satisfaction.

“How was that?” he asked, his voice rough but laced with amusement.

She shook her head, still too dazed to form a proper response. “You—what—where did that come from?”

He grinned, and for the first time since this whole thing started, she saw a flicker of the old Oscar—the one who blushed and stammered and joked. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by that same confident, commanding presence that had flipped her world upside down.

“Maybe I’ve been holding back,” he said, his tone casual, as if they were discussing the weather. “Or maybe… you bring it out of me.”

She stared at him, her heart still racing. And then, without warning, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him on top of her, her lips crashing against his.

[rashid92786]

Lava Blaze Pro 5G: सितम्बर में लांच होगा 5G सपोर्ट और प्रीमियम फीचर्स के साथ

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[ordinary-barbie]

your love is tough, your love is tried and true blue

summary: 5 times rafe takes care of reader (+ one time you take care of him)

tags: fem!reader, hurt with lots of comfort, reader is drunk in the beginning, pet names ("baby," "babe," "princess") language, someone sexually harasses reader, reader has anxiety, rafe is possibly depressed, ward is a verbally abusive asshole, fluff fluff fluff, friends to lovers, rafe and reader are around 21 here, both of them drop the l-bomb

word count: 3.2k

note: title from "true blue" by boygenius!

Rafe felt like it was his duty to look out for you.

Nobody had asked him to—in fact, you always teased him about being your "personal guard dog." But Rafe had always felt protective of you for some reason. Maybe it was because you were Sarah's childhood bestie. Perhaps it was because you were too sweet, too friendly, too fucking stubborn ("I'm independent," you'd always argue). As long as he could remember, Rafe felt pulled to you, needing to ensure you were okay. You were different from Sarah's other friends; something about you made him feel things and actually care about you.

When Rafe got the call from Sarah that you were wasted at a frat party, his stomach twisted. You'd begged him to come, but he refused, feeling too wiped out from a long week of classes. Fuck, he should've been there for you. He clenched his jaw as he drove down Fraternity Row, hoping that some asshole frat brother hadn't gotten his hands on you.

The crowds at Kappa Sig parted easily once they saw Rafe Cameron barge into the party, eyes blazing with determination. Rafe scanned the place for you, finding you giggling in Sarah's lap on a couch.

"Rafeyyy!" you squealed, looking at him with a drunken grin that Rafe had to admit was adorable. "You came!"

"Yeah, and now we're leaving," Rafe bluntly replied, leaving no room for argument.

You pouted. "C'mon Rafey, I was having so much fuuun. Stay here and dance with me." You grabbed at the hem of Rafe's polo, leaning into him, and he tried not to get lost in the intoxicating notes of your favorite perfume scent.

Rafe sighed, saying your name sternly. "You're totally wasted. I need to get you back to your dorm."

You looked up at Rafe, pouting, but crawled out of Sarah's lap anyway. Sarah looked up at Rafe gratefully, and he simply nodded, wrapping his arm around you protectively as he led you out of the party.

Once back in the dorm you shared with Sarah, and after making sure you changed into some pajamas and got comfy in bed, Rafe poked his head into your minifridge, pulling out a cold bottle of water. He left it on the bedside table and rummaged around in the bathroom cabinet until he found some aspirin. He took two capsules out, setting them on the table.

'Drink," he commanded, twisting the cap off the water bottle and handing it to you.

You rolled your eyes at Rafe's tone but complied anyway, taking a big gulp of water.

"Thank you," you said shyly, returning the bottle to Rafe. "You always take care of me."

"It's nothing," Rafe muttered, the tips of his ears turning pink.

He climbed into bed with you, rubbing your back and listening to you chatter about anything and everything until you fell asleep. And when Sarah returned from the party, noticing a sleeping Rafe with one arm wrapped around your midsection, she didn't even question it. That's just how Rafe was—always by your side, no matter what.

-

This time, it's Rafe who's at a party when you're in need.

He's just chilling at the Sigma Chi house, laughing with his friends, when Topper pops his bubble of contentment.

"Where's your girl, Cameron?" he teased with a grin.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, confused, before realizing that Top was talking about you. You and Rafe spent so much time together that, of course, people would think you were dating.

"I actually don't know," Rafe admitted, quickly getting his phone out of his pocket. "Invited her yesterday and she said she would be here—I dunno what happened."

Rafe shot off a quick text—hey, where are u? missing all the fun—and his heart leapt when you replied instantly.

you: i'm sick :/ sorry to ditch u. glad you're having fun!

Well, that was that. Rafe put his phone back in his pocket, leaving the couch.

"Hey man, what's up? What'd she say?" Kelce asked.

"She's sick," Rafe explained simply, and Topper and Kelce looked at each other, grinning. "The fuck are y'all smiling about?"

"Nothing, man," Topper casually answered. "Just tell ____ we say hello."

Rafe made a few pit stops before heading to your dorm. He picked up some cold medicine, a bunch of snacks, and even one of those fashion magazines you liked.

"You really didn't have to do all this," you said, smiling at Rafe warmly despite how crappy you were feeling. "Go back to the party and have fun!"

Rafe scoffed. "I don't give a fuck about the party. You're not feeling well. Obviously, I'm gonna take care of you."

You felt your cheeks grow hot. "Rafe..."

"I'm not going anywhere, aight? So just...take the medicine already," Rafe grumbled, the tips of his ears turning pink.

You chuckled, grabbing the bottle out of Rafe's hands and pouring some medicine into the measuring cup that came with it. Then you downed it like a shot, wincing at the unpleasant taste. Rafe looked at you fondly, laughing softly at your reaction.

You scrunched up your nose. God, you were cute. "What's so funny, huh?"

"I can't admire my favorite patient?" Rafe teased.

You shook your head, smiling at Rafe. "You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you still like me,” Rafe countered.

Oh, if only Rafe had any idea how much.

-

Despite what everyone, from Sarah to his fraternity brothers, thought, this was not an actual date.

Rafe simply needed someone to accompany him to Sigma Chi's formal, and you were the only one he was interested in taking. As friends.

You were hanging out in downtown Charleston with Rafe and some of his frat brothers and their dates. You were initially worried about being accepted by the group, especially because the other girls were in sororities and you weren't, but they were actually friendly. And Rafe's brothers were always pretty chill, though they did love to tease you.

You and your group had stuffed your bellies with fried shrimp and were just walking around. Rafe interlaced his fingers with yours, and you leaned into his touch.

"Can y'all just kiss already?" Topper teased. Paige, Topper's date, giggled.

"Shut up, man," Rafe grumbled, his cheeks turning bright red. You chuckled softly, gently squeezing Rafe's hand to calm him down.

Rafe's phone went off, and he let go of your hand to answer. You frowned slightly, already missing his grasp.

"It's Sarah—guess she's just checking in. One sec," he explained, flashing you a grin that warmed your insides.

You looked towards the local sweet shop, suddenly developing a hankering for a post-dinner treat. After talking with the rest of the group, you crossed the sidewalk, looking forward to trying some delicious homemade ice cream.

You were so lost in thought that you weren't exactly looking where you were going, colliding with someone's chest.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry," you instantly apologized, looking up at the guy you bumped into. He was a tall guy—probably a few inches taller than Rafe—with a muscular build. His chestnut brown hair was messily styled, and a lone silver hoop dangled from his left ear.

The guy smiled lazily at you. "Don't apologize, sweetheart. I'm lucky to have a pretty little thing like you bump into me."

Your stomach twisted; you'd suddenly lost your appetite for ice cream. You smiled politely and tried to cross the street and return to your friends, but the guy grabbed your wrist, pulling your back to his chest.

"C'mon babe, why you running away? Don't be shy," he cooed.

"I have a boyfriend," you lied, attempting to wrestle your wrist from the guy's grasp. "Let me go."

The guy smirked. "Don't see him around anywhere. Quit playing so hard to get, sweetheart."

He moved one of his hands to your ass and squeezed, causing you to scream and yank yourself out of his grip. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" you shrieked, your heart pounding in your chest.

The guy opened his mouth to say something, but the sight of a very irate Rafe Cameron stopped him in his tracks, his pupils wide with rage and his jaw clenched tight.

"Hey man! I see you've met my girlfriend," Rafe said, his voice dripping with fake niceness as he wrapped a protective arm around your waist.

"You shouldn't let your girl be roaming around alone, especially looking like that," the guy replied, his eyes scanning your body lecherously.

Before you could even blink, Rafe's hands were on the guy, pinning him against a brick wall. "You don't get to touch her—you don't even get to fucking look at her. Or think about her. I could beat the shit out of you right now, but I don't think she'd appreciate that."

Rafe removed the guy from his grasp, letting him fall to the ground. "Whatever, dude. You're fucking insane. That bitch isn't worth it," he grumbled, skulking off somewhere.

Rafe squeezed your hand comfortingly, leading you across the street and sitting with you on a nearby bench.

You let out a sniffle, feeling shaken from the incident. It was bad enough that that creep had invaded your space and made you feel like a piece of meat, but to grope your ass? It made you feel sick. Fortunately, things didn't get any worse.

Rafe cradled your face in his hands, wiping your tears away. "Fuck, I'm so sorry. I can't believe that shithead put his hands on you. Are you okay?"

You nodded, your heart squeezing from how tenderly Rafe looked at you. "It was just...scary. And I feel stupid. This wouldn't have happened if I hadn't decided to go alone to get ice cream."

"Hey. This is not your fault," Rafe said sternly, rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand. "He was a fuckin creep. I could just—when I saw him touch you like that, I wanted to break his fuckin fingers." He was shaking with rage, and you rubbed his back, trying to ground him.

Having heard the rest of the commotion, the rest of the group approached you and Rafe on the bench.

"Shit, ____, are you okay?" Kelce asked.

You smiled faintly. "Better now. But honestly, I just want to go back to my room and sleep."

Rafe laced his fingers with yours again. "Let's go then. But first—you're getting that damn ice cream."

Rafe got you two scoops of praline and vanilla for himself, and the two of you ate in a companionable silence on the way back to the hotel. During the walk back, the incident largely faded from your mind, and all you could focus on was Rafe. Reliable, dependable Rafe, who always seemed to be there whenever you needed him. Seeing him defend you like that stirred feelings inside you that you'd been repressing for the sake of your friendship.

Once the two of you were back in your room, Rafe kissed you, soft and slow and deep. He pulled your body close to him as you eagerly kissed him back, not willing to let you go.

-

If you thought Rafe was like a guard dog before, he got even more protective once the two of you started dating. It was finals season now, and he knew how much you ran yourself ragged—fervently studying your notes, pulling all-nighters, and worrying your head off. He hated seeing you stressed like this, especially when you could be in bed with him instead, receiving cuddles and kisses.

"Babe, come on, it's 11 p.m. Come to bed with me," Rafe begged.

You sighed, not looking up from your notes. "Rafey, I'll be done soon, I promise."

Rafe frowned. "You said the same thing 30 minutes ago."

"I just really want to do well on this exam tomorrow," you said, rubbing your temples. "I'm sorry I'm keeping you up—maybe I should just head to the library."

"No fucking way," Rafe said firmly, his jaw ticking. "You've been at this for hours, babe. You need to rest."

"What if you gave me ten more minutes?" you asked, smiling sweetly.

Rafe smirked at you. "What if you came to bed and let me cuddle you instead?" he countered.

You rolled your eyes at him, continuing to pore over your notes. Rafe sighed. You could be so damn stubborn sometimes. He rose from the bed and ambled over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and carrying you to his bed.

"Rafe Cameron!" you cried out. "I just needed to review a little bit more—"

"Nah, you're done for the night, princess," Rafe said, carefully laying you on the bed. He climbed next to you, angling his body as the big spoon, and kissed your forehead.

You put on a dramatic pout, and Rafe snickered, nuzzling your neck. "You'll thank me tomorrow when you're not going into your exam sleep deprived," he mumbled.

You scoffed, but deep down, you knew he was right. You found yourself relaxing more and more as Rafe cuddled you, eventually falling into a blissful pre-beginning-of-finals-week slumber.

(You ended up acing the exam, of course. Rafe demands that you study for the rest of your finals with him at the frat house, mainly so he can have an excuse to be touchy and clingy. Rafe's brothers tease him for it, of course, but he truly couldn't give less of a fuck.)

-

It felt like the walls were closing in on you.

Usually, you had somewhat of a handle on your anxiety—you'd learned some great coping techniques thanks to therapy. But it felt like nothing was working today. Your chest grew tight, your thoughts raced, and you were in full-on panic mode.

It wasn't even like anything in particular was bothering you; you were just caught in a random wave of anxiety. It got to the point where you couldn't even focus on listening to music or watching a show. You sighed, staring at the ceiling as you sat on one of the Camerons' couches. You were staying at Tannyhill for the weekend, but unfortunately, nobody was around to help calm your nerves. Sarah was at the Chateau with John B, Ward and Rose had flown to Atlanta for a wedding, and Rafe was busy doing some weekend work for Cameron Development.

You enjoyed your quiet time, but in that moment, you felt incredibly lonely.

You unlocked your phone, prepared to aimlessly scroll through Instagram, when you received a call. A familiar name flashed on the screen: Rafey.

"Hey princess," Rafe said, his low, rumbling voice slightly easing your nerves. "Working on Saturday fuckin' blows. But I'm comin' back soon, aight?"

"I'm glad you're coming home soon. Could use some company right now," you said, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

"Shit, what's wrong, baby?" Rafe asked, his voice full of worry.

"Just come home, okay?" you asked, not wanting to get into details. "I don't want to be alone right now."

"I'm on it. And before you get on my ass, I won't speed," Rafe teased, managing to get a laugh out of you. "See you soon, sweet girl."

As soon as Rafe stepped through the door, you jumped off the couch, launching yourself into his arms. He rubbed your back soothingly before setting down his briefcase and locking the door behind him.

He led you upstairs into his bedroom, coaxing you to sit in his lap. You buried your head in the side of Rafe's neck as he showered you with kisses, continuing to rub soothing circles down your spine. Without saying a word, Rafe made your anxieties simply melt away.

"I was having a bad brain day," you admitted, looking deep into his beautiful blue eyes. "Woke up all alone this morning, and my mind just got so anxious."

Rafe caressed your cheek, giving your nose a big peck and smiling when you scrunched it up. "I'm sorry, baby. But I'm here now. And if it makes you feel better, I spent the whole morning wishing I was with you instead."

You grinned. "Wow, it's as if you like me or something."

"Glad to see you're feeling better enough to tease me again," Rafe deadpanned, though his eyes shone with amusement. You snorted, playfully shoving his shoulder.

Rafe spent the rest of the afternoon pampering you. He ordered from your favorite Italian place for lunch, let you watch whatever trash reality shows you wanted on his Netflix account, and made sure to give you plenty of kisses and cuddles.

You were deeply lucky to have someone like Rafe in your life. You and he hadn't exchanged the three little words yet, but you were absolutely sure you loved him with your entire heart.

+1

Rafe wasn't the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. He always encouraged you to open up when something was bothering you, but he preferred to keep his own shit locked down deep. Especially when it had to do with his fuckin' father.

You noticed Rafe was quieter than usual today. The two of you were lying out on the beach, enjoying a nice summer day by the ocean. But Rafe was devoid of his usual wisecracks and playful nature, instead holding you close and silently watching you read, his emotions difficult to decipher.

"Baby, what's wrong? You know you can talk to me about anything," you told him comfortingly, squeezing his hand.

Rafe shook his head. "It's nothing. Go back to your book, princess."

You frowned. "Rafe Cameron. Don't you lie to me. I'm your girlfriend; you can be vulnerable with me." Rafe knew you wouldn't let up until he finally admitted what was on his mind. He sighed, knowing that he should take his own advice and stop burying shit.

"My dad has been on my ass all day," Rafe grumbled. "He basically told me how much of a disappointment I was because I made one little mistake at work. Said that he wasn't sure if I was 'competent' enough to take control of the business someday. And maybe he's right—I'm just a fuck up."

Rafe forced out a laugh, though he looked like tears could fall at any moment. Your heart ached. You weren't Ward's biggest fan and hated the way he treated his son, constantly holding him to certain expectations and belittling him whenever he was less than perfect.

You took Rafe's head in your hand, pressing soft, comforting kisses to his cheeks. "Rafey, you are absolutely not a disappointment. I see how hard you work and how much you care about your job. You made a mistake, but you shouldn't let it define you. Fuck what Ward thinks. I think you're amazing."

Rafe smirked. "We get it, you went to therapy."

You rolled your eyes. "Rafe, I'm being serious here. I care about you so much and I hate seeing you so down because of something your dad said. I know you're trying your best, and I'm proud of you."

Rafe pulled you close to his chest, quietly sobbing into your shoulder. You rubbed his back, cooing words of encouragement into his ear.

"Thanks, baby," Rafe mumbled, kissing the top of your head. "I appreciate you listening to my shit."

"Of course," you replied, looking up at your boyfriend fondly. "I'm here for you. I love you. We're in this together, okay?"

"You love me," Rafe repeated, his grin ear-splitting.

You chuckled, rubbing the back of your neck. "Wasn't planning on confessing this way, but yeah," you bashfully replied.

Rafe felt like his heart could burst out of his chest. "I love you, too, baby. You're my ride or die, no matter what."

[ashwhowrites]

“eddie munson would be the type of guy who would say “oooo you wanna kiss me so bad” in the middle of an argument” PLEASE MAKE THIS A FIC🙏🙏🙏🙏🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

This is hilarious! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting ❤️

You wanna kiss me

Being somewhat friends with Eddie could be tiring. He never ran out of energy and he enjoyed getting on everyone's last nerve. He liked jokes, pranks, and teasing. He never had a dull moment.

Y/N was introduced to Eddie through Steve, and it was hard to ignore he was attractive. The worst part is that he seemed to know she thought it. That from the first look, she was smitten and he loved it.

But some days she wanted to strangle him.

"Eddie! Quit flicking me!" She growled as she scribbled down on her homework. His fingers continued to flick her arm, enjoying the way she glared at him.

The lunchroom was busy and loud as she tried to focus. The hellfire table all caught up in conversations, leaving Y/N as Eddie target.

"You know if you did that last night, you wouldn't be so stressed," he smirked, popping a pretzel in his mouth as he leaned back in his chair.

Her head snapped to cuss him out, slightly stopping as his legs spread and his hands went behind his head. The stupid smirk made her stomach flutter.

"I was trying to! You kept taking it away! Seriously leave me alone for the next ten minutes or I'm going to kill you," she threatened.

Eddie chuckled as she went back to her paper. But it was noticeable that she kept side-eyeing him as he shifted. He placed his arms on the table, leaning down to whisper near her.

"Kill me? That sounds mean," he teased. He smiled as her pencil snapped and a growl left her throat. Her eyes were blazing as she looked at him. She barely noticed his face was inches away from hers as she fumed.

"Edward," she said through clenched teeth.

"Ooo you wanna kiss me so bad!"

All the anger vanished from her body as she sat frozen. Her eyes wide as she stared at him. Her heart raced at the thought of her crush being known. She couldn't let him have the upper hand with everything.

Seeing her shocked and scared face, Eddie smirked and leaned back. "Go on, finish that homework," he had the nerve to wink.

She quickly looked back at the piece of paper, trying to distract her mind with the words in front of her.

~~~

Neither said anything about his comment. She didn't want to bring it up and he didn't mention it. She thought maybe she was in the clear as a few days passed. But she should have known Eddie doesn't stop once he's made progress in pissing someone off.

Y/N hoped it wasn't noticeable that she put extra time into her appearance for a movie night with Eddie. He was on his way and she was running around cleaning everything. She made sure nothing embarrassing was in her room and prepared the movie.

The second he walked in, her nerves were all over the place.

"Now I know it's your turn to pick the movie. But did you at least pick something good?" He asked as he slipped off his shoes.

"You'll find out," she shrugged with a smile. She led him upstairs, no idea he was checking her ass out on the way up. Once they made it to her room, he made himself comfortable. Throwing himself on her bed as he took all the room.

"Now where do I sit? The floor?" Her arms crossed as she looked at him.

"You'd look even hotter if you popped your hip out to the side," she rolled her eyes at his smirk. That damn smirk that never seemed to leave his lips.

"Just move over," she scoffed as she walked to her bed. But he didn't budge. "Eddie, seriously!"

"Make me," he challenged. She let out a loud sigh. She was tempted to try, see if she can yank his arm out of his damn socket but she knew he was stronger. And he'd win again and again.

"I'm not playing around," she said as a warning. Her voice annoyed as he laughed. He held his hands up in surrender, moving an inch over.

"You can fit right here," he said as he patted the spot next to him. She'd fit, but she'd be pressed up right against him.

"You know what? Fine!" She smiled, finally knocking him off his high horse as he truly looked shocked. She grabbed the remote and held her breath as she got on the bed. She tried to ignore him watching as she rested on her side, letting her breath go as he was behind her. At least this way she couldn't see his face and might have a chance at making it through the night.

She jumped when his hand landed on her hip. She was frozen as she stared straight ahead. Her breathing uneven as his body moved even closer. Her face flushed as she felt his hard chest right against her back.

"You gonna hit play?" He whispered in her ear, noticing the goosebumps that were raised on her neck. "Or just waiting to see if you feel something else touching you?"

Just like that, she was back to being annoyed. "You're disgusting!" She gasped as she turned around to shove him. He laughed as he rolled to his back, giving her more space. She quickly took the room, smiling in victory.

"Ha! I won!" She cheered, but her breath caught in her throat as she looked at him. He was already staring at her, an unreadable expression on his face. "Eddie?"

He snapped out of whatever he was thinking, that stupid teasing smile on his face. She rolled her eyes, preparing to roll over before he could even start, but she couldn't help but stare back at him. She tried to move her body but it stayed put.

"Stop looking at me like that!" She said as she shoved his shoulder. The look made her stomach erupt in butterflies and made her heart race. She knew liking Eddie wasn't a smart idea. He lived to tease and flirt with everyone and she couldn't take any of it seriously.

"Why?"

She looked down at his lips but quickly caught herself. But he already saw it, his lips moving into a shit eating grin.

"You wanna kiss me so bad," he whispered, moving his face closer to hers. "Just do it. It's obvious you want to."

Y/N debated it but she knew if she did, he'd brag about winning because that's all it would be.

"Keep dreaming," she scoffed, turning around and pressing play.

Eddie tried not to seem disappointed as he settled down. His hands itching to touch her again but he kept to himself.

~~~

Y/N truly never planned to admit her feelings but the more time she spent with him and the more he teased her, the harder it was.

All those times he teased about them kissing made her want it even more. What if she did it? Would he be shocked? Would it shut him up? What would happen after?

There were too many questions and she was terrified of the consequences. She enjoyed it when his attention was on her, but as she looked across the hideout with his attention on another girl she wished she made the move.

He invited her, and yet she was left at the table alone. He was supposed to be getting drinks but it seemed he was getting a date instead. After ten minutes of waiting, she got up. This was exactly why she never said anything.

She walked over to the couple, tapping his shoulder. He stopped mid conversation, turning to see who it was. He smiled as he saw her.

"What's up?" He asked. Truthfully, he had the hots for Y/N since Steve brought her around. And Eddie didn't have the best track record when it came to girls. He had a feeling she liked him but he was too chicken to make the move and look like an idiot. He also didn't know how to communicate his feelings so he went for the teasing and flirting route. All of which lead him to nothing. She never caved in.

"Look I'm not going to sit around and wait for whatever you are hoping to get from her so I'll just see you at school," she said, giving the girl a look over before she walked away.

"Y/N! Wait!" He said, not saying a word to the other girl as he walked after her. He grabbed her hand as they made it outside.

She didn't want to seem jealous or annoyed. She wanted to seem like she was completely fine.

"Yes?" She sighed, turning around to look at him. He dropped her hand and she was quick to slip it in her jacket pocket.

"I wasn't trying to get anywhere with that girl"

"Eddie, I really don't care if you were or not. I'm tired and want to go home"

"You don't care? Really?" He asked, turning his head to the side like he could x-ray through her lie.

"Really," she smiled, "do you want me to care?"

"Maybe I do," he said honestly. "I kinda thought something was building here."

She scoffed at his words, laughing quietly to herself. "Oh you mean all the teasing and pissing me off? Is that the only form of flirting you have?"

"At least I can admit to feeling something," he snapped. "I know what you're doing. You refuse to give in."

"Give in? Eddie, you were two seconds away from fucking a random girl at a bar you invited me to! So yeah, god forbid I'm smart and can see a shitty guy who will only play with my feelings for his entertainment," feeling pissed, she turned around and began to walk off.

But now he was pissed and annoyed, following her.

"A shitty guy? I'm not a shitty guy. And I told you I wasn't doing anything with her!"

"I don't care, Eddie," she sang, she tried to walk faster but in seconds he appeared in front of her. He blocked her from leaving as he moved in front of her anytime she moved.

"I think you do care otherwise you wouldn't be jealous," he smirked. "Because If we were just friends, I don't think your mind would be racing about me and that girl."

"Wipe that smug look off your face," she rolled her eyes. "Go right ahead and get her number," she said as she patted him on the shoulder.

"Yeah? Should I?" He pressed, his head moving closer to her. But she didn't back down, letting him lean in.

"Yeah, go for it. Hope she says yes so you don't get embarrassed," this time the teasing smirk on her face.

He chuckled at her, both staring at each other as their faces grew closer. It was almost like they didn't know it was happening until they were nose to nose.

"Ooo you wanna kis-" this time she cut him off. Her hands on his face as she smashed her lips against his.

He finally got it, wasting no time as he kissed her back. All the tension they had was adding heat to the kiss as he walked her up against the wall.

Moaning into each other's mouths as they gripped each other desperately. The kiss was better than either of them imagined. She wasn't surprised that he was a good kisser. His lips moved perfectly against hers and her head spun when his tongue slipped inside her mouth.

Safe to say, Eddie got exactly what he was hoping for.

[cheriecoke]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ SAFEGUARD — dazai, chuuya, akutagawa

summary . . . they save you after you've been injured and captured by an enemy.

contents . . . sfw, f!reader (chuuya & dazai) and gn!reader (akutagawa), violence / blood, threats, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, and it's pmboss!dazai bc i can't help myself — 3.5k total

notes . . . i got this request so long ago lol. not my best work, but i have been in the worst writing slump ever and just wanted to finish something. i've also never written for akutagawa before so pls be nice <3

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 . . .

there are very few times that chuuya feels he’s been outsmarted. he knows he’s not the mastermind of the port mafia, but he certainly isn’t a fool. when it comes to you and your well-being, though, his mind short-circuits, half of his intelligence draining away while his emotions take hold. 

your relationship isn’t a secret to anyone in the port mafia, which means that it isn’t a secret to your enemies either. and while most people know it’s hard to land a finger on chuuya directly, his pretty little girlfriend doesn’t have the power of a god nestled inside of her.

the rage sparks through him, growing fiercely into the blaze of a forest fire, until all he can think of is getting you home safely. he thinks of your sweet smile as he rips the door of the enemies’ base off the hinges, crushing it into a million pieces with the force of gravity. 

the men are quick to react, but chuuya hurtles the crushed door towards them, knocking three of them to their feet. another group charges at him, but their guns do little against his skill. after years of fighting some of the strongest ability users, simple criminal organizations are as easy to step over like ants. 

chuuya kills them all — except for one.

the man’s knees are wobbling, hand shaking around the gun as he realizes that these will be his final moments. there is fear in his eyes, brown ones that rest wide open, and chuuya almost hesitates. his remorse doesn’t last long, though, before he’s wrapping a hand around the man’s throat, thrusting him backwards. 

“where is she?” chuuya asks, voice sharp and commanding. 

he can feel the man swallowing. 

chuuya knows that backup is probably on the way, but it won’t matter whether they show up or not. he’ll crush the rest of his enemies just as he’s crushed the last twenty men. the poor soul in his leather hold seems to know that as well. 

“i-i’ll take you to her,” he rasps, dropping his gun to claw at chuuya’s hand. 

he drops him, lets him take a few heaving breaths and coughs, before he’s kicking at him, forcing him back to his feet.

the young man takes him up the elevator, weaves him through a hallway as chuuya leaves a scattering of bodies in his wake, not hesitating to kill a single man that gets in his way. there is nothing that can keep him from you. 

how fiercely and loyally he loves you — it drives him to near insanity. 

finally, with blood coating his face and his clothes, the young man enters a room, locked with a code, revealing you. 

chuuya’s rage is almost as blinding as his corruption, as he gazes at the sight of you. bloodied and bruised, tied up in a chair, so visibly harmed. his hands clench into fists. “get the fuck away from her,” he says to the man who seems to be monitoring you.

“what are you doing in here?” the men left in the room panic, but they don’t have time to react before chuuya throws them back at the wall, so quickly, with so much force, that their spines snap. they hit it with a sharp crack, skulls shattering against the plaster, the wall crushing beneath the weight of them. 

limply, they fall to the floor. 

chuuya rushes over to you. 

the young man that led him here disappears, but chuuya isn’t worried about him. he’s a coward; he’ll likely flee from the country and never look back. the men that truly hurt you are already dead, and he’ll burn this building to the ground once he’s gotten you away from it. 

“hey,” chuuya says, cradling your cheeks gently, trying to coax you back awake. he’s not sure if it’s exhaustion, blood loss, or the obvious head trauma that caused you to pass out in the first place. but you’re still breathing, so he counts that as a blessing. 

“hey,” he whispers again, kissing your forehead, like it will heal all your ailments. “wake up, baby. we gotta get you out of here, okay?” 

it takes you a few seconds to come to, eyes glazed over and shell-shocked as you blink at him. “chuuya?” you say; your voice is so hoarse it makes chuuya want to keel over and vomit. “is it really you?” 

guilt gnaws at him, almost crushing, at the fact that thirty-six hours passed, and you’re delirious enough not to recognize him. you probably haven’t eaten, either. 

he should’ve been there. no one should’ve ever had the chance to hurt you, yet…

“it’s me, i’m here,” he says, kissing your lips, your temple, brushing your hair away from your face. the strands are sticky with blood. “shit,” chuuya nearly shouts, pulling a knife from his pocket, sawing through the thick ropes around you as quickly as he can. “i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry.” 

he can’t get you free fast enough, and you smile at him, drowsy, your eyes fluttering shut once more. “it’s okay, chuuya,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder. “you’re here now.” 

“you have to stay awake,” he says desperately, realizing your head is still bleeding. he doesn’t know how hurt you are. chuuya’s no expert when it comes to medicine, but he’s smart enough to know that internal injuries could be even worse than the external ones. 

“stay awake for me, okay, honey? i’ll get you back to the boss and we’ll find you a doctor. you’ll be just fine.” 

“okay, chuuya,” you hum, weakly gripping his back. seconds of silence pass before you mutter, “i just want to go home.” 

"i know." his heart pulls, and he almost lets out a cracked sob. but he refrains, knowing that there is plenty of time to drown in his sorrows later. 

finally, he gets the ropes under, lifting you from the chair. you’re so much lighter, weaker, and it makes him sick as he carries you. “let’s get you home.” 

𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀. . .

the call comes just as akutagawa is getting ready to head home for the evening, his tasks completed, eyes heavy with exhaustion. 

normally, he doesn’t stick around to say any goodbyes, sneaking off into the darkness of the night like a shadow, blending right in. but, something about the evening, so gloomy and drizzly with spring rain, feels off. 

with a heavy knot in his chest, so much different than an incoming fit of coughs, akutagawa heads back up to mori’s office, if perhaps to only ensure that everyone else’s jobs had been completed. he’s a lot of things, but he’s never been a slacker; and he’ll do what it takes to ensure that his position in the mafia is eternally secure.

though, he doesn’t have the opportunity to get all the way upstairs before he run into the boss, who is calm, but with an air of irritation clouding him. 

he explains the current situation to akutagawa in a clipped tone, bored — an enemy group has kidnapped you, holding you hostage. 

“how rude is it to bother a man, just as he is getting ready to go to sleep?” mori says, sighing histrionically.

but what is a minor inconvenience to mori sends an entire wave of dread through akutagawa, his entire body feeling as if it’s been dipped in ice. he can’t explain the horror that washes over him, not really, because he shouldn’t feel so panicked. it is rare for him to get worked up about the danger his subordinates find themselves in, save for his sister, of course. 

but you… you’re different. 

“can i trust you to diffuse the situation?” mori asks, impatiently glancing at his watch as if that will change anything. “i can call someone else, but they will not be so quick.” 

akutagawa doesn’t even think before he accepts the job, hating the way he sounds pathetically desperate for more details. his hands flatten the edge of his cloak, as if his ability is going to take on a mind of its own. 

he calls for a driver, calm but breathing so heavily that an aching cough rises up in him. his throat feels as if it may begin to bleed, but he swallows, glances away from the driver and gets himself under control.

there’s a ransom — bring them the money and they’ll return you, mori had told him. you’re only a lower ranking member of the mafia, and someone that makes for a pretty poor bargaining chip, so the motive is questionable. 

mori probably would’ve let you die, akutagawa knows, his teeth gritting together, so much so that a splintering sound comes from it. but the boss, in his infinite, concerning wisdom, seems to also know that his loyal dog has an soft spot for you. 

as regrettable as that may be.

akutagawa has no doubt that whoever the enemy is, they are no match for him. still, a twinge of anxiety settles in his stomach, fingers jittery as the driver, despite the decreased traffic of the hour, seems to drive impossibly slow. 

“are we not in a rush?” akutagawa snaps, leaning forward.

“apologies,” the driver, says, not daring to even look at akutagawa from the mirror. but the car speeds up, enough for akutagawa to be able to notice, at least. it cools the simmer that has already begun deep in his chest.  

even so, the car seems to go at a snails pace, minute upon minute flying by, with you in the clutches of an enemy. 

akutagawa doesn’t care who they are. he doesn’t care why, or how they captured you. he wants them dead. he’ll rip them apart, easily, and he’ll make them suffer — they’ll be alive for all of it, for every second that he peels the skin from their bones, ripping the smaller ones out of their sockets. 

what he feels for you… well, it’s too hard for him to admit to himself. he has no experience with what it means to care for another person, doesn’t even know if that’s his goal. he just knows he wants to protect you.

and he can’t do that if you’re dead.

finally, the car pulls up to an old warehouse, one at the very outskirts of the port, beyond the docks and the shipping carts. it’s tucked far back, an obvious lair for some villainous organization that doesn’t want to be found. 

akutagawa gets there, but there is nothing. he hears nothing, feels no signs of life as he trudges through the puddles left behind from the earlier rain. 

a small string of panic begins again, as he wondered if maybe the call that mori had told him was only a ruse. maybe this entire time had been a distraction, a way to lure him away. there are other skill-users in the mafia, but none quite as dangerous as him. 

though, he hears it, then. a small little sound, muffled and hoarse, full of pain. 

he ducks into another corner of a warehouse, and you’re there — bound with chains and a gag across your mouth, one of your eyes blackened with bruises, your nose bleeding. 

his heart aches. never in his life has he so quickly made his way over, used the sharp edges of his ability to shear through the chains, falling to his knees as he unbinds the cloth from your lips. 

“where are they?” he rasps, mouth opening and closing, hating the sound of his own voice. he recognizes his desperation, his anger, but the affectionate sound that clips at the end is unfamiliar, as he shakily pulls himself closer to you. 

you glance up at him, eyes glossy and wide, and though you are scared, hurt, he’s so thankful you are alive. his heart flips once, as you grasp at his cloak, the material that has the blood of so many staining the threads. 

“gone,” you say, throat chalky, words nothing more than a note against the wind. “they fled when they heard it was you coming.” 

“and left you?” he asks, jaw clenching, as he hopes that the emotions aren’t as visible on his features as he thinks they are. “were you not a ransom?” 

“no,” you swallow, hard, as if in pain. he notices bruises around your neck, the shape of fingerprints indented there. “i was bait.”

anger rises up in him like a wave, engulfing him, wholly and relentlessly. he is no stranger to that, like he is the kindness you show him, the way you look at him as if he is your protector, rather than a bringer of destruction. “i’ll go after them. where are they headed? they’ll pay, i’ll slaughter—”

“ryunosuke,” you say, reaching for him as he stands, expression pleading as he backs away. “stay.” 

he has half a mind to ignore you — the enemy escaped, after all. but your voice. your eyes… you look so small sitting there, bloodied and bruised and broken. 

“please,” you try again, near tears, and though he has never been good with obvious displays of emotion, something within him snaps at the desperation in the word. 

he nods, slowing his pace as he returns to you, lets you wrap yourself in him, cling to him. his hands fall, naturally, to your waist, somehow knowing where they belong, even if akutagawa never has a clue what he’s doing with you. 

“i’ll call hirotsu,” he says simply, before pulling out his phone, not bothering to untangle himself from you. 

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 . . .

dazai is not a forgiving man, and will never learn to be. forgiveness is not a luxury he is often able to indulge in in his line of work, and his heart has hardened enough that until the end of time, those that are branded his enemies will remain his enemies. 

though, in his blackened heart, one soured over the course of time, you have carved out your own little space, lit it up with golden rays of light that are fiery enough to melt the stone casing of his chest. 

his only love — his only weakness. but it is a weakness that his enemies know about as well. 

dazai tries his best to keep you safe. he always has, and he knows that, sometimes, his grasp on you can be a little too tight. that the way he tries to keep you under his watchful eye can sometimes be stifling, frustrating. 

but he can’t always be there to protect you. and it is in times like these, that he regrets letting you go without a bodyguard. he regrets that he listened to your insistence that you could keep yourself safe. 

he should’ve at least told you to take a friend. 

“boss,” his subordinate says, bowing his head, his voice pleading, desperate. “i’m so sorry. your wife—”

“if anything… anything happens to her, you will be the one responsible, do you understand?” dazai says, his eyes cold as he glowers down at the man, only a few inches shorter than him, but feeling so much smaller. “i will personally see that this act does not go unpunished.” 

“of course, sir,” the man says, and he, at the very least, has the decency to sound resigned. to accept his fate and suffer the consequences, for allowing the boss’s wife to get herself into such a situation. 

and dazai means it, every last word; if he finds you in a state closer to death, anyone who put you in harm’s way will be torn apart from the inside out. he isn’t able to think of anything but bringing you home safely, his hands shaking with rage as he sends more than enough people out on a search to find you. 

with all the strings he’s able to pull as the mafia boss, it doesn’t take long to find you, for those that have bravely — or stupidly — used his wife as bait to come forward, and offer an attempt at some sort of negotiation. 

there’s little of the conversation that dazai remembers on the phone, even less that he remembers after that. the anger bubbles up in him and grabs hold of his conscience, the emotion directing his movements with a mind of its own. 

he’s already sent out every last one of his people into the field, ensuring that the organization that had the gall to threaten you is wiped off the face of the earth. deleted from every corner of the world, buildings flattened to the ground. by tomorrow, they won’t have ever existed. 

today, he doesn’t care what happens as long as he finds you alive. 

you’re held hostage by two men — so completely beaten that they’ve given up on any restraints. whatever they wanted from you, you seemed to refused to have given up, lip bleeding, eyes swelling so badly that you can’t even open them. 

dazai doesn’t hesitate before pulling the trigger on the first man, then turning to the other, shooting the hand that holds the pistol. the man recoils, shouts, and drops the weapon completely, as dazai lands another bullet to his knee, causing him to fall. 

slowly, dazai walks up, firing again to his other arm, a loud snap echoing throughout the room. the man winces, trying to crawl to the gun, one last desperate attempt to stay alive. 

he kicks the gun away, watching, as, pathetically, the expression in the enemy’s face changes — any of his remaining hope vanishes. 

“you told me she was unharmed,” dazai says, bending down, his coat flaring out behind him as he squats. 

the man coughs, gasping for air as the blood seeps out of him. “we lied.” he smiles cruelly, and though he shares the same sort of darkness as those in the port mafia, there is something even more twisted in his smile. 

dazai hums. “you the leader?” 

the man doesn’t give an answer, but the slight twitch of surprise on his face is all dazai needs. he’s no one — just a grunt whose life was put on the line to guard you. 

“didn’t think so.” dazai shoots him once, straight through the forehead, instantly killing him. but he is vindictive, angry, and the man he truly wants to destroy, the one who took you, is nowhere to be found. another bullet lands, tearing apart the flesh of his temple, then another, and one more, his skull beginning to cave in from the force of it all. 

dazai heaves, letting the gun clatter to the ground as it runs out of bullets, and then he realizes, all this time, you’ve just been watching him. the ugliest side of him — the worst side of him. 

you’re no stranger to it, of course. how can you be, when you’ve shared a life with him for years? but that doesn’t mean he wants you to see it, see how bloodthirsty he can become. 

he stumbles over to you, where you’re still sitting on the ground, your wrist in your lap, bent at an angle that he knows isn’t right. bruises are littered across your skin, and your hair is matted from the blood that pools at your temple. 

it takes every ounce of restraint he has to stay calm, a million feelings swirling under his skin. ones that he was never familiar with until he met you. 

“i’m sorry,” he says, taking your face in his hands so, so softly, worried that he’ll hurt you even more. “i’m sorry, darling. i should’ve — i should’ve been there.” dazai notices his hands are shaking and he balls them up into fists, leaning back. “fuck. fuck — i’ll kill them all, just tell me who it was. anyone who laid a finger on you. i’ll cut them down one by one.” 

“osamu,” you say, and your voice is raspy, cracking, as your unbroken arm reaches for him, squeezing his shaking hand. “i—”

you open your mouth to continue, but only tears come streaming down your cheeks, over your bloodied lips, saltiness soaking your jawline. no words don’t leave you, but a soft sob chokes itself up your throat.

“hey, hey, hey.” dazai’s voice softens, every muscle in his body relaxing as he draws you nearer to him, into his chest with a touch that’s barely there. “you’re safe. i’m here, okay? they’re not going to hurt you again, sweetheart.” 

you sniffle, barely making a sound, but he can feel the tears drop onto his clothes, soaking the material.

“can you walk? are you hurt anywhere else?” 

you hesitate for a moment before answering; he’s not sure if there’s a reason you only answer the first question. “i can walk.” 

dazai nods, and though the rage is still bubbling there, underneath the surface, there is a coolant streaming through him at the vision of you alive. the men who did this will pay the price, but he still has you — and that’s all that matters.

thank you for reading !!! ❤︎

[rafecameronssl4t]

thinking about this TikTok https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS6QMnM4U/ and maybe it’s Thornton!reader x Rafe and readers door bell camera is always capturing the two being super touchy and readers parents and even topper always unfortunately end up accidentally watching it bc they check it frequently 🤣🤣🤣

Caught in 4k || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

gif by @1liv

A/n: I LOVE THIS LMAOO here’s the tiktok btw

Warnings: just Rafe being super touchy

Word count: 1,024

MASTERLIST (rafe x Thornton!reader)

The soft chime of your phone alerted you to a text, and when you saw Rafe’s name flash across the screen, a thrill of excitement ran through you. “Here.” the message read, and you didn’t hesitate to spring from the couch and head for the door. Pushing the front door open, you stepped out into the warm evening, spotting him just as he was locking his car.

Rafe looked effortlessly handsome, his stance relaxed, his eyes immediately lighting up when they landed on you. You couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across your face as you practically bounced down the steps toward him, arms already open. He met you halfway, a smirk tugging at his lips as his hands went straight to your waist, then slid lower to grip your ass.

His touch sent a pleasant jolt through you, and you squealed as he effortlessly hoisted you up, your legs wrapping around his hips like it was second nature. “God, I missed you,” you murmured, smiling against his lips as he pressed a lingering kiss to your mouth. Rafe chuckled, his hands gripping you tighter, fingers brushing the bare skin where your shorts had ridden up.

“Missed you too,” he murmured, his tone low and warm. He carried you up the steps like you weighed nothing, pausing at the front door. But before he could set you down, one of his hands delivered a sharp smack to your ass, the sound cracking through the air. You gasped in surprise, your voice hitching as his fingers curled under the hem of your linen shorts, pushing them up even higher.

The cool evening breeze met your exposed ass, sending a shiver up your spine. “Rafe!” you hissed, a mix of shock and laughter in your voice as you squirmed in his grip. You tried to swat his hands away, but he only grinned, unbothered by your protests. “You like it,” he teased, his voice low and smug, making your cheeks burn.

Any retort you had was cut short by a sharp, familiar voice. “Are you two fucking serious right now?” You froze, your head whipping around toward the source of the voice. Your heart sank when your eyes landed on the doorbell camera mounted beside the door, the tiny red light blinking accusingly at you. “Oh my God,” you muttered, burying your face in Rafe’s chest in embarrassment.

“The fuck?” Rafe mumbled under his breath, his brows furrowing as he glanced at the camera. “I forgot my parents installed a new doorbell camera,” you groaned, your voice muffled against his chest. “Yeah, they fucking did,” Topper’s voice crackled through the speaker again, laced with exasperation. “And when they see the shit you two are pulling—” “Shut up, Topper!” you snapped, whipping your head around to glare at the camera.

Your cheeks were blazing now, and you reached for Rafe’s hand, tugging him toward the door. Rafe, ever the troublemaker, turned to face the camera with a cocky grin, raising a hand in a lazy wave. “Tell them we say hi,” he drawled before letting you pull him inside. “That’s still my little sister, shithead!” Topper’s voice shouted from the camera as Rafe shut the door firmly, the sound cutting off whatever else he had to say.

“You’re such an idiot,” you mumbled, shaking your head as you led Rafe deeper into the house. Rafe just laughed, leaning in close to kiss your temple. “Worth it,” he murmured smugly, his tone making it clear that he had zero regrets about his antics.

~

“And then she gave me the dirtiest look ever,” you scoffed, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it with a sharp twist of your wrist. The irritation from your encounter still lingered, and you couldn’t help but vent as you tossed your keys back into your purse. “Like, what is her problem?” you ranted, turning to face Rafe as he hummed in vague agreement, though it was clear he wasn’t fully listening.

“I know, right,” he muttered absently, his attention flickering elsewhere. “Bitch has never even talked to me—” your words were abruptly cut off when Rafe’s hands found your waist, tugging you closer in one swift motion. “What are you doing-,” you started, but your breath hitched as his fingers toyed with the hem of your tube top. He tugged it back just enough to get a peek before letting the fabric snap back against your skin with a playful smirk.

“Rafe!” you gasped, your jaw dropping in disbelief. “Haven’t seen the girls in so long,” he teased, faking a dramatic frown as his eyes flickered to your chest. “You’re such an ass,” you snapped, trying to sound stern, though your laughter betrayed you. Before you could say more, a familiar voice cut through the air, sharp and disapproving. “Rafe Cameron!”

You froze, your heart sinking into your stomach as your mother’s voice echoed through the room. Slowly, your eyes darted toward the doorbell camera you’d just walked past, the realisation hitting you like a truck. “Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, slapping a hand over your mouth as you glanced between Rafe and the blinking red light of the camera.

Rafe, ever the smooth talker, scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh, sorry, Mrs. Thornton,” he called out sheepishly, trying his best to sound sincere. The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of your mother’s likely glare palpable even through the camera. You didn’t dare say a word, too stunned to move.

Rafe, however, recovered quickly. Grabbing your hand, he pulled you toward the stairs. “Let’s go,” he whispered urgently, his lips twitching with suppressed laughter. You didn’t protest, the two of you breaking into a run as you bolted down the steps, bursts of nervous giggles spilling out of you both. Once outside, you scrambled into his car, breathless and still laughing as he started the engine.

“That was so bad,” you groaned, covering your face with your hands as you sank into the seat. Rafe’s grin was unapologetic as he glanced at you. “What? Your mom loves me,” he said with a wink, reaching over to squeeze your thigh before pulling out of the driveway.