#assassin x reader

[valentine-cafe]

˖⁺. “ boner in public ! ” : 

﹙ various monster boyfriends x gn reader ﹚.𖹭

. . . various monster boyfriends x gn reader !! ���� : 

you're out and about in public. only for you to look down and catch your partner in a bit of a predicament. . . a boner in public. 

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ very lowkey brat taming ˖ reader is suuuchhh a shit | wc : 1.2k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: I needed to write this for awhile and just - had so much damn fun with it 

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

﹙ Alessio 781. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : “This assembly meeting must be reeeaaalll interesting, huh Alessio?”

You catch his grin from the side as you shift closer to his still countenance. Standing tall with his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark jeans. As if he isn’t sporting a massive tent at his crotch.

“Oh yeah. Fuckin’ love the morning recount of -” he pauses to pay attention he hasn’t bothered. “- scheduled staff meetings. Really gets a person going.”

You have to stiffle a laugh. Even with a raging boner he’s able to toss jokes around like its nothing. Typical Alessio.

You shift closer and muse as your arm bumps into his. “You’re surprisingly calm for someone armed and ready. Happen often?”

He casts you only a side glance and this time, his brow arches to join the lazy grin. “D’you have any idea how many fucking boners you give? In a day? ‘m used to this shit by now.” Your face burns at his words and you take a small glance around to ensure no one has noticed, before your gaze returns to the culprit.

His low murmur breaks the silence. “Keep staring and I’ll take it as an offer.” At last your boyfriend turns to you. Eyes shining with the bluntness of his words. Your own widen and you bounce your gaze around quickly before clearing your throat. Considering. Then humming.

“Can’t be serious.”

“Meet me round the bathroom in five?”

The shamelessness of this man. How could you possibly say no?

꒰  mercenary ˖ inhuman ˖ immortal ˖ punkgoth character ꒱

 

﹙ Talisen 781. ﹚. . . !! 🍓 : The line for this one cup of coffee was criminally long. You weigh out the options, you’ve already waited ten minutes — and you’re almost there. But the damned lady at the front had changed her mind about elven times and over.

You’re about to spin around and tell your boyfriend that maybe you should find another spot — until it catches your peripheral. The familiar bulge that has you whipping your head over immediately to make sure you’re seeing right.

And Talisen, oh poor Talisen. He stands tall as ever. Staring ahead without so much as a peep. Pretending as though he hasn’t caught your obvious stare. As if he is sooo oblivious to dick rising for attention. Like a fucking actor.

You can’t help the shit-eating grin that spreads across your face. It’s subtle, but, you shuffle closer and mumble low enough to his ear. “Is it just me, or are you really excited for that berry tea?”

The click of his tongue sends you giggling. The reaper turns his face in the opposite direction and tightens his jaw. Damn the paleness of his face. It shines his blush like a red light.

“Do not patronize me. It. . . It can very well be a random occurrence.” His deep voice mutters, grave like the hole he’s digging for himself in retribution for his body putting him in this position.

“Maybe. . .” you muse, tilting your head with your grin dropping to a smirk. “Or maybe it was the way you were staring at my thighs earlier.”

He grunts low. Here you are, laughing your ass off at him while he’s twitching and struggling. What a cruel beloved he has found himself with.

But he must remain refined. He takes a deep breath. Schools his blushing face and leans over to your shoulder. Pale fingers find the small of your back. “If you would stop staring. This will ease in about five minutes.” He murmurs to your ear. You all but croon. Your eyes coyly shifting to the side.

“And what if I don’t wanna?”

“Then,” his fingers press up into your back. “Suppose I will have to make it your problem for the rest of the day.”

꒰  grim reaper ˖ naga ˖ poet character ꒱

 

﹙ Haitao 209. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : “Stop staring.”

You’re pulled out of your world of bewilderment and mild amusement when his dry voice fills your ear. You sway a bit to your boyfriend leaned back into the wall beside you. Arms folded as he stares through his spectacles to the briefing of the newest mission.

“Can’t help it Haii. It’s like you’re tryna poke my eye out with that.” You have to restrain the urge to reach over and flick it. However, your joke does spark a gurgled, muffled laughter from Haitao’s motionless figure. Seems Luu’leriel found it quite funny.

The reaper in turn sighs deep and shuts his eyes for but a moment as you prod at him continuously. Poking the bear was your specialty. Here he is, hard as rock. And even now you refuse to give him a moment’s reprieve.

“Oh c’mon. Don’t look so serious,” you lightly knock his elbow with yours. Your grin dimming just a tad so that you can lower your voice. “Maybe I could give you a hand?”

He gives but a roll of his eyes. His expression not breaking once. Much like ice. He only lowers his own voice in turn and speaks lowly.

“This is an extremely important briefing and you wanna miss it to give me a handjob?”

“Looks like you need it big boy. Think I saw it twitch.”

That was it. His arm snakes around your waist and yanks you closer. His cold lips find your ear and he eases into a whisper. “Your count’s on three. Four will cost you. Five, you’re not fucking walking.”

You immediately straighten up and stare forward. With but a clear of your throat. Haitao returns to his initial stance. With his dick now throbbing more than before. You won in the end.

꒰ grim reaper ˖ assassin character ꒱

 

﹙ Orion. ﹚. . . !! 🍓 : Your beloved is the height of nobility. The sheer essence of refinement. It is what you’ve adored about him since day one. His large, dark wings stick out through the sea of white feathers. As you both stand within one of the grand angel halls. Socialising before the announcements for the new age.

You cannot help but admire your love. Oh, refinement does not even begin to cover it. He is beyond graceful.

Even when he is straining a boner through his robes. Although barely visible with the layers of his black hanfu, you knew him well enough.

“My.” you muse at last. Finding a quiet moment beside him. “When you complimented my outfit, I hadn’t thought it would get to you so much.”

You receive only a side eye from the angel before he returns to his glass of wine. A small swish to the scarlet liquid before he brings his lips to the rim with a soft mumble. “You speak a lot for a guilty being. Do you enjoy ruining my image?”

You laugh and link an arm with his. Your chin craning to his shoulder. “Oh Oriiooonn, don’t blame me for your own imaginative mind huh?” With a small hum, you guide your eyes down slyly before piping ever so softly. “Who knew old men like you could still get it up?”

It is only then that you receive a scoff from him. He has to take another swig of his wine after that. “You of all people should know. You find yourself on it every night.”

You smile at his little bite. He seems unbothered for the most part — but your teasing is certainly getting to him. That much you can tell. So you bite on your lip with a smile.

“Are you growing irritable? Might I offer assistance?”

“Why not? You seem as though you are ready to get down on your knees here and now in any case.”

You swat his arm lightly and he only chuckles. You’ll have to find an empty hallways.

꒰ abyssal angel ˖ dragonic character ꒱

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[vash-yuu]

MASTERLIST

{{ Genshin Impact }}

Neuvillette

— please don't cry hydro dragon! —

— protect the queen! —

Lyney

— be mine, won't you? —

Wriothesley

— touch grass, bitch —

— unwind —

— you and your weirdness —

— sticker me up —

Alhaitham

— comments —

— the life to my death —

{{ Honkai: Star Rail }}

Argenti

— oh god my ears —

{{ Non-Fandom oneshots }}

Yandere assassin x reader

— almost dead but not quite —

Yandere servant! Kurami

— forever my god —

Yandere vampire! Blackwin

— no one but you —

{{ Art }}

— ado —

— leona —

— rafayel —

— luka —

The author is still working on more....please be patient

[fandomnerd9602]

Stitched Heals

Allyson Nelson x Wick!Reader

Allyson sped through the downtown madness of Haddonfield. What Corey told her over the phone wasn't making sense. And the fact that you, the love of her life, wasn't answering your phone. And worse her grandmother wasn't answering her phone either.

"Dammit!" she gritted her teeth as she turned on the phone locator app. Your phone briefly pops up as the Haddonfield junkyard. And then it blipped out of existence. Allyson's eyes went wide with terror.

Meanwhile, you were still being dragged across the mix of concrete and dirt towards the industrial shredder.

"Corey" you say through gritted teeth, "I know you're still in there"

His cold eyes stare daggers into yours. Just a flicker of the old Corey comes through but then the darkness swallows him up again.

"They made me this" he whispers as the sound of the shredding gears grows louder and louder

"We all have a choice." you answer back, "and choices have consequences"

Corey hoists you onto the conveyor belt, he jumps on it and shoves his knee into your chest.

"Be seeing you, Wick" he states as the conveyor belt inches you closer and closer to the certain doom.

"Be seeing you" you answer back before pulling out a pocket knife and driving it into his ribs. Corey screams in pain before you slam your fist into the wound.

You pull yourself up and slam your fists repeatedly into your old pal. Every blow you land is more painful for you than it probably is for him.

You shove him down onto the conveyor belt. You get him in a neck lock

"Submit" you yell, he doesn't give way, struggling against your grip.

"Corey please" you practically beg him. He reaches for a discarded piece of metal. The edge of the conveyor belt is in sight. His hand reaches the piece.

"Forgive me" you say as you snap his neck. Corey's arms fall limp. In that instance, everything goes blurry. Both you and the now dead Corey Cunningham go over the edge, on instinct you grab the ledge of the shredder as you look down and see Corey's lifeless corpse fall into the gears. Your feet were mere centimeters from the shredding gears. Some small part of you was so tempted to let go of the ledge and let yourself join in.

"Y/N!!!" a voice calls out to you. Allyson runs to the shredder and reaches in, pulling you up and over, away from the danger.

You lock eyes with Allyson, she leans her forehead against yours. Your dog runs up and leans against you, trying to bring you some comfort.

The doors of the junkyard swing open as Laurie and a procession of townsfolk carry Michael Myers' body to the same shredder you just escaped from.

Chief Barker approaches you, "Wick"

"Chief Barker?" you ask

"We have reasons to believe that Corey Cunningham may be connected to the murders over the last couple days" he explains, "where is he?"

You gave it some thought. You look to Allyson. She shares your gaze and concern. If you told them the truth, then your friend would die a monster the way the whole town saw him as.

"The Shape. The Shape killed him" you tell the Chief, it wasn't a lie. It was the Shape that influenced him. "I-I couldn't save him. He was thrown into the shredder"

"Poor guy" Barker whispers before giving you a tip of his cowboy hat. Laurie locks eyes with you and Allyson, there's a mix of relief and also bittersweet in her eyes. The nightmare was over.

It's November now. You and Allyson walk up to her mother's grave. Your car is packed and ready for a new start. You give Ally a hug as she lays flowers on her mother's grave.

"It's over, Mom" she whispers, "The Shape is dead"

Allyson rises and kisses your cheek.

The nightmare was over, at least you hoped it was. You and Allyson left Haddonfield that day. You held Allyson's hand on the whole car ride to Chicago.

"So I met your grandfather" Allyson says with a little smile to break the tension in the car, "sounds you had quite a job before we met"

"I was broken" you give her a smile and kiss her knuckles, "but you stitched me back together."

THE END

[star-centric]

I started reading Sakamoto Days and wanted to make my own assassin OC <333 (and to also help me break out of writers block). His appearance and name is left up to the reader minus having a scar on his nose, so his look is up to interpretation (until I actually sit and figure something out lmao). Reader is gender neutral!

CW: mentions of blood, guns and violence (but nothing graphic)

You thought that you would never run into him again.

The mark across his nose was hard to miss- you wanted to ask him how he got it, but it was rude. When he grumbled out that it was a birth mark the first time you met, you cut your eyes away. Were you staring that hard? You felt guilty.

You ran across the stranger months ago in an alley, blood pouring from his side in the cold and rain. The scowl he shot you made you falter in his steps, but seeing the crimson mixing in with the puddles on the ground forced you to go forward. He couldn’t have been but a few years older than you- what happened for him to end up like this?

It took a lot of convincing to get near him, even more to let him inside of your shop. He acted like an injured animal backed into a corner, ready for bite and weary of what’s to come. But you had to show him that you mean no harm, because you don’t- you just want to help because he honestly needs it.

The supply closet wasn’t the greatest place to help a wounded man, but it would have to do- you just closed up shop and you rather not have it looking like a bloodbath.

Besides, it looked like the man wasn’t as tense when you helped him through the back door.

You tried to make small talk, but the stranger was either too much in pain to bother or just gave you short answers- which was a little rude, but whatever. Sounded like he really didn’t know how to hold a conversation. You asked for his name when he finally spoke after your awkward attempts of making conversations.

“You don’t need to know.”

His tone was as nasty as his wound- which looked really nasty. You weren’t a medical expert by any means, but it looked really bad. You couldn’t tell if he got shot, stabbed or both.

You apologized when you wiped it with disinfectant, his hisses and groans filling the air. But you had no other choice, because when you told him he needed to go to the hospital and reached for your phone, he grasped at your wrist. The look he gave you shook you to your core, and you meekly said never mind.

It was the moment that the thought crossed your mind that he could hurt you.

You don’t know this man. You went with your gut to help him, but he was still nothing but a stranger. With how fast he grabbed you and the threatening squeeze he gave you, he could hurt you with ease. You tried to stop your hand from trembling when he let go, a gruff sorry leaving his lips. You mumbled out that it was fine, but clearly it left you rattled.

The air became tense again, with you just trying to focus on wrapping his wound. You could feel his eyes boring into you while you kept your head down- until he finally broke the silence, an obvious and awkward attempt at trying to make the mood more relaxed. It…didn’t really work, but you would play along. It helped to take your mind off of what previously happened. He was lost, and it made you chuckle a bit at how hard he was trying.

The air was quiet but not as tense as before. Still awkward, but it was bearable.

You didn’t offer him to stay- you were already crossing a line letting a stranger inside with you alone, you weren’t that naive to let him spend the night. You offered to call him a ride, but he was already making his way to the door, albeit it a bit wobbly, but standing up regardless.

He never looked back, but you swore that you heard a soft thank you as you watched his back walk out the door and back into the freezing rain.

When you came back in the next day, A small smile graced your cheeks- so he had a bit of manners, after all.

You honestly believed that you were never going to see him again, your curiosity of the stranger bond to brew in the back of your mind. Always wondering what ever happened to him- was he okay? Where is he going? Who did that to him? Questions that you had to accept that you would never get answers for. A small part of you would always be curious about him, an even smaller part wanting to run into him again just to ease your thoughts.

You would have never guessed that you would have your wish granted so soon.

Nor would you have imagined him pointing a gun directly at your forehead.

You couldn’t stop yourself from shivering, even after they took off the blindfold. The muzzle of the gun felt cold against your temple, and your body shook from the steel and from being so close to Death’s Door. The other men in the room urged the man to hurry up with killing you, speaking of your death like it was simple errand. Tears welled up in your eyes, dread seeping deep into your bones-

You were really going to die here, weren’t you.

You bit your lips to try and stifle your sobs- seeing your memories flash before you. Your life was about to be stolen from you- and there was nothing you could do about it. All because you decided to show a stranger an act of kindness. All because you were so naive, so stupid-

The gun cocked, the sound bouncing off the walls of the abandoned warehouse and making your flinch. You weren’t brave enough to look up at the stranger, to look up at your soon to be killer- all you could do is hope that you would go fast, and that just made the tears stream down your cheeks faster. You closed your eyes as tight as you could, bracing yourself.

The gun went off and you screamed.

But you felt nothing. No pain, no blood- nothing.

When you finally did open your eyes, you saw the men lying on the ground, small pools of crimson surrounding them. The stranger was still standing, weapon pointed at the bodies. You sat frozen, mouth agape at the sight.

Why did he shoot them and not you?

The man eventually let out a sigh and lowered the gun, turning back to you. You jumped when you locked eyes with him, heart pounding ferociously in your chest, sweat lining your forehead. You forced your gaze back down to the ground.

It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that you glanced back up, a hand reached out in front of you. You were still too shaken by everything to do anything, which forced him to grab at your wrist- surprisingly much more gentle then the first time he did it.

He helped you to your feet, your body still wobbly from your nerves. You tried to keep your gaze ahead as you passed the bodies littering the ground- some of their eyes were still open, shock forever etched on their faces.

It’s going to be hard to sleep for the next few weeks.

The man opened the car door and you mindlessly got in, still numb after the adrenaline wore off. The ride was quiet, and you stared out the window and at the rising sun, the mix of colors comforting you somewhat. It reminded you that you were alive.

You saw your shop come into view, and the stranger got out to open your door once again. You got out, gaze empty as you tried to process everything that happened.

“Sorry about all of this.”

He broke the stiff air first, his own eyes looking away from yours. The man looked as awkward as he did when he tried to make conversation the first time in your shop. A much different aura from the warehouse where he showed no emotion, only a coldness that could be felt from miles away. You had whiplash just witnessing it.

You shook your head, it’s fine on the tip of your tongue- but it wasn’t. None of this was okay.

You took a deep breath, a dried thank you leaving your lips anyway. He did save your life even if he could have been the reason you came close to losing it.

The man nodded his head and gave you one final look before getting in the car. You swore you heard him say see you around, but you didn’t have time to question it when he drove away.

You thought about calling the police, but what good would it do? If anything, it could bring you more trouble- and that wasn’t worth it at all.

You didn’t even bother going into the shop, instead walking to your own car.

You needed a few days to yourself.

[digitalwavemedia]

I Go On A Mission With My Ex-Boyfriend And It does Not Go As Planned! Ho...

[serotonins-stuff]

He isn't the type to let you bend over to pick something up in peace.

As soon as he sees your upper body go down, your ass perched perfectly in the air, he can't help but appear behind you all of a sudden. Hand reeled back, and bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

Just when you notice the devious presence behind you, a loud slap echoes from your right cheek and you fall forward from the impact.

The recoil traveled throughout your entire leg, and he couldn't feel more proud of himself in that moment.

"Ow!" You winced, looking back to see a smug look on his face "Did you have to do it that hard?"

"Listen sweetheart" he chuckled, before bending down to place you over his shoulder "If you're gonna wear that around the house you can't expect me not to touch"

"That was not just a touch" you whined, still feeling the harsh sting your behind has been granted with.

"Awww, then let me rub it better yeah?"

GOJO, TOJI, geto, Sukuna, Bakugo, HAWKS, dabi, KARMA, kurroo, Bokuto, Atsumu, HANMA, BAJI, Mikey, RAN, Tengen

[greengoblinswifey]

Reunited— Luigi Mangione x Fem!Reader

summary— You’re reunited with your boyfriend luigi and he shows you just how much he missed you.

warnings— fingering, slight voyeurism, oral(f!receiving) praise kink, bit of crying but luigi comforts you, L bombs, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, aftercare, fluff.

a/n— originally posted on my ao3, where there’s another luigi fic <3 FREE MY MF MAN!

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Luigi Mangione was not just another face in the crowd, he was a polarizing figure. He gained national attention after allegedly carrying out a calculated act of vengeance against a corrupt CEO you couldn’t care less about. He claimed his actions were a response to widespread exploitation and inequality in the healthcare system and you were 100% on board.

After leaving behind a manifesto that exposed systemic greed and corruption, he disappeared, sparking an instant nationwide search. Supporters hailed him as a modern day vigilante, while detractors condemned him as a criminal. You were by his side through it all, not only as his girlfriend but as his confidant and staunchest ally.

You had met Luigi three years ago at a charity gala. While his presence was understated, his charisma was undeniable. You had a passion for uncovering the truth and you were drawn to his fiery intellect and his conviction to make a difference. When he confided in you about his disillusionment with the corporate world and his dream to spark real change, you stood by him, even as the risks escalated.

When the authorities finally caught him, it shattered your world. Luigi was supposed to be halfway across the country by then, safe and untouchable. But fate had other plans.

After days of navigating legal hurdles, your boyfriend was granted bail thanks to the efforts of the legal team you assembled and the donations pouring in from his legion of supporters. The day you picked him up from jail was a whirlwind of emotions. Crowds of people gathered outside the facility, holding signs and chanting his name. The media swarmed like vultures, cameras flashing as Luigi emerged, his posture unyielding despite the chaos.

The car was parked a block away, avoiding the thick of the chaos. As he stepped out, the crowd screamed. He lifted his hand in acknowledgment, his voice cutting through the noise.

“Read the manifesto,” he said, his tone commanding yet calm. “The answers you seek are in there.”

The crowd erupted, some cheering, others debating. But Luigi didn’t linger. He moved toward you, his gaze softening the moment he saw you waiting.

The lawyer drove the two of you to a safe house on the outskirts of the city. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, noticing the tension in his shoulders and the faint bruising along his jawline.

“Baby, did they hurt you?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He exhaled, brushing your concern aside. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. I’m just angry they didn’t let me speak.”

You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “They’ll hear you soon enough. You’ve already started something they can’t ignore.”

His eyes softened as he turned to you. “I missed you,” he murmured, his hand finding your thigh. “Every damn second I was in that shithole.”

You smiled, leaning closer. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

He kissed you deeply, his hand tightening its grip. “You’ve been my anchor through all of this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The car ride felt impossibly long as the reality of the situation weighed down on you. You kept glancing at Luigi, his sharp profile shown by the fleeting city lights. Despite the calm mask he wore, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes.

You reached over, your fingers brushing his arm. “I was so scared for you,” you whispered, your voice breaking. Tears began to spill before you could stop them.

Luigi turned to you immediately, his expression softening. “Don’t cry, amore. I’m here now,” he murmured, pulling you closer. He pressed a series of tender kisses to your cheeks, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

“It’s just so unfair,” you choked out. “The media, the critics—they don’t know you like I do. You’re not some monster. You’re brave, kind, and caring. You only wanted to help people.”

He cupped your face, his gaze locking with yours. “Let them say what they want. I don’t need their approval. I have you, and that’s all I care about.”

You leaned into him, his words wrapping around your heart like a balm. “I just don’t want to lose you again.”

“You won’t,” he promised, his voice low and steady. “No one can keep me from you.”

As the car drove deeper into the night, Luigi’s hand found its way to your thigh, his touch warm against your skin. He glanced down at your dress, his lips curving into a sly smile.

“You look so sexy in this,” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper. “Did you wear it for me?”

“Yes,” you admitted, heat rushing to your face.

He chuckled softly, his fingers tracing circles on your thigh. “Good. Because it’s driving me crazy.”

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your neck. You shivered as he placed a trail of slow kisses along your skin. “You smell amazing,” he murmured against you.

His hand slid higher, and when his fingers brushed your bare pussy, he froze for a moment before letting out a low, appreciative moan. “You’re not wearing anything underneath?” he asked.

You shook your head, your breath hitching.

“Naughty girl,” he whispered, his voice laced with both amusement and desire. His fingers trailed to your clit, the heat of his touch making you bite your lip to keep from making a sound.

“Luigi,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both anticipation and the need for discretion.

“Shh, amore,” he said, his lips still pressed to your neck. “Be good for me. Stay quiet.”

His fingers moved with purpose, his slow circles on your clit sending your nerves into a frenzy. “You’re so perfect,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “I missed this, missed you.”

The car hit a bump, jolting you both, and you bit back a gasp as he slipped a finger into you immediately, your hand gripping his arm tightly.

Up front, the lawyer cleared his throat, oblivious. “Almost there,” he said.

Luigi smirked, his fingers still working their magic. “Good. But not soon enough,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear as he praised you softly.

His touch became more deliberate, his fingers moving in a way that left you struggling to suppress your reactions. His gaze flicked up to yours, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

“You’re doing so well for me, amore,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “I can feel how much you missed me from how wet you are.”

Your breath hitched as he praised you, his movements precise and slow, building that feeling inside. He kissed the side of your neck again, murmuring against your skin, “I love seeing you like this, knowing I’m the only one who can make you feel this way.”

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, biting to suppress your moans as his fingers curled inside you with his thumb rubbing your clit.

“I can’t—” you breathed, biting your lip to quiet yourself as your orgasm built.

“Cum for me, beautiful,” he whispered, speeding up his movements.

You bit onto his shoulder, using your other hand to pull him onto you as your orgasm ripped through you like a knife. You really hoped the seats weren’t messy.

The car slowed as it neared the safe house, and Luigi reluctantly withdrew his hand, his eyes dark with unspoken promises. “Just wait til’ we’re inside,” he said softly, his fingers brushing your chin as he gave you a quick, knowing smile.

His lawyer parked the car in front of the nondescript safe house, stepping out to hold the door for both of you. Luigi exited first, straightening his suit jacket before reaching for your hand. “Thank you,” he said curtly to the lawyer, who nodded and drove off into the night.

The moment you were inside, Luigi shut the door, locking it and turned to you, his expression filled with an intensity that took your breath away.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he said, his voice rough as he pulled you close. His hands framed your face as he kissed you deeply, his body pressing you back against the nearest wall.

“Lui—,” you whispered, your hands tangling in his hair as his lips moved to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that made your knees weak.

“You’re mine,” he said firmly, his voice filled with both affection and possessiveness.

His hands roamed down your sides, gripping your waist as he pulled you even closer. “I’m going to remind you how much I missed you,” he said, his voice a mix of promise and passion.

Luigi carried you effortlessly, his strong arms wrapping you in the warmth of safety as he navigated the unfamiliar safe house. He gently kicked open the door to what you assumed was the bedroom, setting you down on the soft mattress. His touch was soft, fingers lingering on your shoulders as he slid your straps off, his eyes scanning every inch of you like he was seeing you for the first time.

“Do you have any idea how much I missed you?” he murmured, his voice filled with longing.

Your response was barely a whisper. “I’ve thought about you every second.”

He tilted your chin upward, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that deepened with every passing moment. As he undid the zipper of your dress, his movements were deliberate yet gentle. The fabric pooled at your feet, and his breath hitched slightly as his gaze took your naked body in.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, his tone awestruck. His fingers threaded through your braids, tugging softly as he kissed you again, his lips tracing a path down your jawline and neck.

Your hands instinctively found his curls, tangling in them as he lowered himself to his knees before you. “Baby,” you whispered, the emotion in your voice evident.

“Shh,” he replied softly, his lips brushing your skin. “I need to take care of you first. Tell me how much you missed me.”

“I missed you so much,” you said, voice trembling with emotion. “I love you, Luigi.”

“I love you more than anything. Let me show you just how much,” he replied.

His hands caressed your thighs, his lips trailing kisses down your skin. His touch was reverent, almost as if he were worshiping every inch of you, his deep brown eyes gazing up with adoration.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice soft yet full of conviction. “Every part of you.”

His lips pressed against your pelvis, leaving a trail of warmth and affection that sent a shiver through your body. Each kiss was slow and deliberate, his presence grounding you even as your heartbeat quickened.

“Luigi,” you breathed, your voice trembling with emotion and pleasure. Your hand instinctively reached for his curls, tangling in them as he smiled against your pussy.

“Let me take care of you,” he said. “You’ve been so good for me—so patient, so strong.”

Your head tilted back, overwhelmed by the sensation of his devotion. His praises washed over you like a balm, soothing the ache of the days you’d spent apart.

His tongue moved with precision, licking your clit as he used his fingers to spread your juices across your hole. A gasp left your lips as he moved down, slipping his tongue inside your pussy then continuing his movements on your clit.

“You’re everything to me,” he continued, his hands gently gripping your hips as he sucked your clit. “I don’t deserve how good you’ve been throughout this, but I’ll spend my life proving how much I love you.”

His voice alone sent a rush of warmth through you, every syllable filled with sincerity. “I love you too,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as your emotions surged.

Luigi’s lips curved into a small smile. “You’re too good to me, but I’ll never take it for granted.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell. Every touch, every flick of his tongue was a promise that he would always cherish you, protect you.

He didn’t rush a single movement, cherishing the connection between you. You cried out as you gripped his curls tighter, your orgasm threatening to spill over.

“God baby, I can feel you clamping around my tongue, it’s okay, you can cum for me,” he urged.

With his name on your lips like a prayer, you trembled as you squirted on his tongue. He slurped your juices, guiding you through your high and savoring your taste.

When he finally finished and stood up, his arms pulled you close, cradling you as if shielding you from the world. “You’re my everything,” he whispered. “I’ll never let anything happen to us. I promise you that.”

Your hand rested on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I believe you,” you said softly.

He smiled, brushing a strand of your braids from your face. “Good.”

Luigi’s chuckled as you gently ran your fingers along his chest, stripping him off his clothes then pushing him to sit on the edge of the bed. His dark eyes glimmered with warmth, his hands lightly brushing against your waist.

“You’ve done so much for me,” you murmured, leaning closer, your voice low but full of intent. “Now it’s my turn to show you how much I’ve missed you.”

His gaze softened, his hands sliding to your wrists as if to stop you. “You don’t have to do anything, amore,” he said, his voice tender. “Just having you here, holding you, it’s enough.”

You pouted but decided not to be a brat this once. “Whatever you say baby, anything you want.”

Luigi sat back, his strong arms pulling you onto him as if he couldn’t bear even a second without your closeness. He settled you against his chest, your bodies perfectly aligned, his heart beating steadily beneath your ear. “So obedient,” he murmured, his lips brushing your temple before moving to your forehead for a lingering kiss.

He tilted your chin up gently, his dark eyes locking with yours. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly. “I need to hear you say it.”

You nodded, your breath catching. “I’ve been craving this—craving you—this whole time,” you whispered, your words trembling with sincerity.

That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips met yours in a deep kiss, one that spoke of everything unspoken, the longing, the love, the relief of being together again. His hands caressed your ass, grounding you as he shifted beneath you.

He paused, his movements deliberate, as he guided his cock against your pussy. “Slowly, baby,” he murmured, his hands firm but gentle on your hips. “I want you to feel every inch of me.”

A gasp escaped your lips as he sank deep inside you, your body adjusting to the slow, deliberate rhythm he set. “That’s it,” he praised, his voice rough with restrained need. “You’re perfect—so tight, so ready for me.”

Your nails dug lightly into his chest as the intensity built, his words spurring you on. “You can take it, baby,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over your collarbone. “You’re so incredible.”

Luigi's praises, whispered against your skin, grounded you in the moment. “You feel like heaven, amore,” he said, his voice breaking slightly as he kissed you again, swallowing your soft cries.

Luigi’s grip on your hips tightened, as he guided you into a slow, deliberate rhythm. Each thrust was purposeful, his body rising to meet yours. “That’s it, princess,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your jawline. “You’re so perfect. I’ve missed you more than you can imagine.”

You clung to him, your fingers tangling in his curls as he set a steady pace. Every thrust was measured, filling you and making your breath hitch. “You’re taking me so well,” he whispered, his voice breaking with restrained emotion. “I can feel how much you’ve missed me.”

Your head tilted back, exposing your throat as his lips pressed against your skin, leaving a trail of kisses that make you shiver. “Luigi,” you gasped, your voice trembling.

“Shh, amore,” he soothed, his hands running up and down your spine as he adjusted the angle slightly, his cock moving inside your wet pussy deliberate and controlled. “Let me take care of you. Just feel me.”

His thrusts deepened, his hips rolling in a way that sent shivers down your spine. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his dark eyes locked on yours, filled with unspoken affection and need. “So perfect for me.”

“Lu— I’m gonna cum,” you cried, your fingers gripping his hair tighter.

“I know baby, do it for me, cum on my cock,” he muttered.

Your body convulsed on top of him, your breath catching in your throat as your orgasm hit you like a truck. He continued thrusting inside you, guiding you through the intensity of the moment.

Without missing a beat, he flipped you so that he was on top of you, his cock still inside you. His soft lips came down onto your tits, swirling his tongue around your nipples as soft whimpers left you. You tried to grip onto him but he pinned your arms above your head, leaving you completely at his mercy.

He thrusted into you deeply, your body jolting upwards as you cried out.

“Oh, fuck, that feels amazing,” you moaned, feeling him continuously brush that sweet spot inside you.

He went faster at your praises, his hips snapping to meet yours. “God, you’re so wet for me, beautiful.”

His large hands gripped your waist, slamming you onto his thick cock. His hand then moved to your lower abdomen, pressing against the outline of his cock moving inside you.

“Feel me baby? Feel how deep I am inside you?” he murmured, pressing on your abdomen and slamming into you.

“S-so deep,” you whimpered.

He reached down to rub your clit, feeling your pussy flutter around him as his pace never faltered.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby, I know you are too. I’m gonna cum deep inside you, gonna breed this pretty fucking pussy,” he said.

You wrapped your legs around him, grinding against him. “That’s my good girl, trap me in baby, cum with me while I fuck a baby into you.”

His words sent you over the edge and you moaned his name as you felt his hot load spurt deep inside you. “Take it, take it, take it, beautiful,” he gasped, fucking you as ropes of his cum spurted inside you.

You babbled incoherent words, shivering under him as the intensity of the moment was almost too much.

“Now, when you get pregnant, you’ll always have a piece of me,” he cooed. He stayed buried inside you, relishing in the warmth and wetness of your pussy.

Luigi gently pulled out of you, his hands steady as he helped you shift. His concern for you was immediate, his touch soft as he carefully helped you to your feet. “Let’s take care of you,” he whispered, his voice filled with care. He guided you to the bath, his eyes never leaving you, as if making sure you were okay, every part of you.

He settled behind you in the large, warm tub, the water soothing as he wrapped his arms around you, his chest against your back. You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body surround you, as he gently massaged the soap across your skin. His hands were steady and comforting, washing away the physical remnants of the day, but it was more than that—he was taking care of you in every way, his touch full of tenderness and love.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, kissing the back of your neck softly. “I promise, I won’t let them take me away again. We’ll fight this, together.”

You closed your eyes, your heart swelling with emotion as you leaned back against him. His hands gently cupped your face, turning you to look at him. “I really hope so,” you whispered, the fear from earlier still lingering, but his presence grounding you. “I’ll always be by your side, Luigi. No matter what happens.”

He smiled, a soft, knowing smile that reached his eyes. “I know,” he whispered, his voice full of reassurance. “And I’ll never let you go.”

As the warm water surrounded you both, the world outside seemed so far away. All that mattered was the two of you, in that moment, connected in a way that nothing could tear apart.

[wjehfshs]

Came to the realisation that my type is loner/kinda loser boys who struggle to fit in and dislike authority to some degree or like to tease… maybe not even that, just loser loner boys (based off not only childhood crushes but also current crushes)

[aritsukemo]

Been thinking about..

Sal's partner being obsessed with his voice in every way. The raspiness, the depth and how well his tone of voice mixes with it, how he pronounces words—everything. So, once a day, they request he tell them about his day in almost concerning detail just to hear his voice for an extended period of time. ( It takes him months to figure out why you saw such lengthy talks as such a necessity )

Sanemi's partner absolutely not believing it when people tell them about how cruel and harsh he is because of how differently he treats them in comparison. Who only knows him as a man who only speaks to them in gentle whispers, never lets them do any heavy lifting when he's around, massages them despite the fact that he's the one constantly going out and exerting himself to slay demons ( and all because they simply mentioned in passing that their toe was hurting from standing too long or something ), spoils them, and brings them gifts after almost every mission as an apology for being away for so long and possibly giving them a scare.

Gaara's arranged fiancé being completely and utterly intimidated by him to the point that they constantly avoid him. Poor boy, of course, knows no way of fixing this and ultimately goes to Kankuro for advice—who suggests he starts by breaking the ice over a nice dinner—and Gaara, despite having zero experience in the kitchen, opts to take said advice and run with it. His fiancé comes home after a long day of hiding to find the kitchen a complete mess and Gaara standing in the middle of it—covered head to toe in his many earlier failures—with his lackluster dish in hand and their heart absolutely melts at the sight.

Chifuyu, who scares Takemichi half to death with nonstop text telling him to come over his house asap. His best friend, thinking the worse, rushes over only to be asked if you'd find it corny if he attempted to match with you for your date tonight.

Nagisa, who was nervous about meeting you for a date after cutting his hair. Who feared his worst fears were right all along and that you only loved that version of him that his mother spent years crafting against his will..only to find out that you were in the same boat; had also cut your hair and feared his reaction to your new look. It made him feel silly for blowing such a simple thing up in his head.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[ramen-flavored]

It’s been 6 years since Endgame released and I am still a firm believer that the real Steve Rogers NEVER would’ve left Bucky alone like that.

[valentine-cafe]

...on the other hand i also wanna request kind of the opposite of my last one. What if a reader who was generally shy and not suave went up to your flirtiest and more charming etc characters and tried to be flirty? But was clearly stressed cause your ocs were so gorgeous but cue reader trying to be flirty anyway like trying to compliment them but spluttering and apologising (basically "you- i- sorry you're just- pretty- *flusters and blushes and wants the earth to swallow them whole*)

:3 only if you guys have the time tho ofc!!😘

. ˚◞♡ 𝒔𝒉𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒇𝒍𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒔 ◞ ₊˚

𖹭. a selection of the flirtiest bastards and their reaction when your shy self flirts with them /gn reader

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ ALESSIO 781 ꒱ sealed your fate the second that you approached him. what were you thinking? of course he just leaned up against his locker, folded his arms and watched with with an arched of his pierced brow. a smirk on his black-stained lipstick. “what’s a pretty thing like you apologising for, cariño? quite the show you’ve given me.” steps on closer and brushes your hair back / fixes your collar before he leans his tall height down. that damned smirk only making you shrink more. “no running away now, go on. ‘m pretty yeah?” poor you. he’s the worst, but at least he’s polite about it.

enigma x reader, mercenary x reader, antihero x reader

 

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ TAE-HYUN 209 ꒱ didn’t even give you a chance before his turquoise eyes were giving you the elevator look. down your figure then back up to your lips - if only to meet your eyes again. a clear smirk on his lips and a small tilt of his head. he wouldn’t say anything at first, simply letting you fluster. letting you stammer and try to find your words. but when you called him pretty? he’d just chuckle and signal you closer with a curl of his finger. “cute. come give me your name. I’ll take you out for some coffee.” 

park tae-hyun, one of the leaders in the resistance and an enigma who can shapeshift. cool and collected, an effortless, smug bastard who's dedicated to his work in protecting supernatural and thwarting the psychopathic herrera husbands. long, straight turquoise green hair that reaches his shoulders, turquoise green eyes, slight tanned skin, stands at 6’11”

enigma x reader, shapeshifter x reader

 

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ HÀOYÚ 9948E ꒱ was stacking away some books when he heard your splutters and stammers. the way you leaned over the counter of the library to try and garner his attention. the reaper arched his brow and couldn’t help the series of chuckles that left him before he so effortlessly sauntered over. leaning on the same counter on the opposite end. leaning his elbow against it and placing his head in his hand. staring at you with those sharp diaoxazine eyes and a devilish grin that had your heart doing flips. “oh, are you struggling? well, don’t stop now.” his face would lean closer. “I must say you’re quite pretty yourself. stammering and stuttering like that.” pokes your nose with a clawed nail and then trails it down to your lips. poor you, again. he’s also the worst.

grim reaper x reader

 

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ RISHEN 1311 ꒱ only leans back against his chair. sharp maroon eyes keeping a steady gaze on your eyes as you stand before his desk. his head tilts up, to the side and his expression makes you think that you’re doing everything wrong. well - until a quirk of his lips made your want to fall to your knees then and there. with one of his legs crossed, his scarlet stiletto taps mid-air, before a soft, deep croon rumbles from his throat after a hushed click of his tongue. “aww pobrecito,” ( poor thing ) a pat to his lap with an idle hand. “c’mere. seems like you are struggling. let me help you out.”

admiral x reader, spy x reader, assassin x reader

 

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ ALESSIO 1311 ꒱ was thrilled when he heard your once confident voice quiver and noticed the ways your eyes fluttered. the last thing he expected was for one of the bartenders at the place he performs at to start flirting with him. but who was he to deny you? doesn’t say a damn thing and simply backs you up until your back flushes against the edge of the bar counter - which he soon boxes you against when two of his arms reach to rest on either side of you. those beady, all-magenta eyes peer into yours and the grin on his lips tells you all that you need to. “looks like you need some practice. want some help?”

rockstar x reader, enigma x reader, mercenary x reader, villain x reader

[comatosebunny09]

Now that his birthday’s passed, I can be angsty on main.

cw: non-mc reader, angst, rejection, heartbreak, self-loathing, alcohol mention, unrequited feelings (kind of), stream of consciousness, not proofread, bittersweet (?) ending

After Sy returns to the base following a day spent with Emcee, you quietly slip him your gift—a small, matte black box with a curled, scarlet ribbon encircling it. You don’t give him time to thank you before you’re out of sight. He doesn’t miss the forlorn undertone of your “Happy Belated, boss-man,” before you leave.

He opens it up to see a QR code at the base of the box. He scans it on his phone. Two tickets to a candlelit orchestral performance. He smiles quietly, an affectionate chuckle in his throat. Something tame yet different to get him out of the base. Something so inherently Sylus. But why are there two tickets?

He stares after your afterimage. Ah. Was one of them for—not you? Well, that won’t do. You went through all this trouble to get him something thoughtful. Of course you’re coming with him. Maybe it’ll help break up the tension that’s been brewing between you since he made his choice.

—

It’s nice. Pleasant. You rented out the concert hall just for him. Didn’t expect him to bring you, but you won’t deny that you were thrilled about the invitation. Surprised—it was meant for him to enjoy it with…someone else.

He looks great beneath the candlelight. Then again, so do you. Dressed in sophisticated crimson, a dress to highlight the devastation of your body, courtesy of him. It’s still alright for him to buy you things, right? Friends buy each other gifts all the time.

It’s a little awkward, sitting there beside him. Thighs just barely brushing, fingers itching to reach for each other’s hands. But you’re friends—this is what you agreed to. You convinced yourself you were content with remaining by his side, paying off your unspoken debt to him, even if it pained you to look at him. Smell him. Feel him, barely ghosting, but always a commanding presence.

The music is a lovely distraction. It’s soft, invoking emotions you tucked away. Your eyes water as the strings kick in. It’s like he senses the minute shift in your expression, the change to your posture, the clench of your teeth, and he places his hand over yours to offer you a semblance of comfort. It feels wrong how his fingers burn, how they curl towards your palm on the armrest. How they make you feel safe, validated, wanted.

That soft smile he offers when you glance at him doesn’t help. And how he strokes over the clutch of your hand with his thumb, agitating the emotions welling in your chest. Your returned smile is watery, guarded as you glance at your lap.

Should friends even be holding hands like this?

—

A little bubbly to chase the burn away.

He took you to a lovely restaurant afterwards. You joked it was his birthday gift, so you should be treating him. It’s fine—friends take care of each other, right? When the ache is too much. When your tongue’s too heavy in your mouth, and your heart pulls in your chest.

You end up going for a walk downtown after dinner. Enjoy the historic sights, the fairy lights, the nightlife bustling on the cobblestoned walkways.

You’re laughing. Crowding together. Conversing like two idiots who just fell out of love, itching to sink back into it. He has gentle yet firm fingers around the crook of your elbow to steady you. Maybe you drank more champagne than you thought.

Your feet hurt. He shepherds you to a bus stand to take a load off. Pulls your feet up onto his lap, peeling off your high-heeled sandals, and working through the pain with his knuckles. Just like old times. Is this alright? Should he really be…this nice when he’s…not yours, and—

Thoughts you tried to keep at bay come spilling in. That night replays like torn film reels.

“Maybe in another lifetime,” he whispered, as if admitting it so low would ease the devastation of it. The sting. “Maybe in another lifetime, it could’ve been you. I could’ve held your hand while you laughed so sweetly under the sun. I could’ve stroked your cheek while you pouted in that adorable way, pretending to be upset with me. I could’ve held you so close while you dreamed, while you gave yourself to me. Just…not now. The timing. It’s just—”

You laughed despite the pang in your chest. Despite the tears clumping in your lashes, distorting your vision of him. Pathetic little streaks of red, white, black. You remember rubbing your arms to self-soothe. Being hysterical. Curling into yourself as bile singed the back of your throat. You wanted to vomit. Wanted the world to open up and swallow you whole. You wanted to be erased from his memory—him forgetting you would’ve hurt less.

“Please don’t cry,” he placated, voice all croaky. Strained. Broken, almost like how you felt. Like it pained him more to let you down. He reached out for you, fingers shaky in the air near your cheek. You stepped away. You didn’t deserve his affection. Didn’t think you could handle it.

You laughed again, forcing a bitter smile onto your lips. “I’m okay,” you lied through a constricted throat.

It burned. Felt visceral. His pity was the worst torture you’d ever been subjected to. Honestly, you could’ve lived with him being mean. Crushing you. Telling you that you were delusional, a mistake, pathetic. His tenderness hurt more, like a knife thrust into your gut and twisted. It was like he was teasing you with a glimpse of what could have been. False hope. That doting voice speaking to you every day like that.

“Don’t worry about me,” you choked around the threat of a sob, a laugh, “I’ll be fine. Promise.”

He hated it, how you always had to put up a front. Always so brave, guarding your emotions like forbidden treasure. He wanted to hold you. Stroke over your hair. Murmur, ‘I’m sorrys’ against the outskirts of your ear. He’d never seen you like this, falling apart at the seams, and yet still fighting to shield yourself. As though showing a bit of weakness would cause him to dispose of you.

He hated himself, watching you wear that prideful smile despite the tears streaming down your cheeks. Letting you slip out of his office without a fight. His nails bit unforgivingly into his palm. Split the skin. Anguish possessed his features in the quiet. He always swiftly dealt with anyone who hurt you. A hair out of place, a scar on your cheek, blood seeping through your clothes.

So what was he supposed to do when he was the source of your pain?

You don’t say anything as his driver pulls his car up to the bus stop. Stone-faced as Sylus drops his jacket onto your shoulders, ushering you into the backseat. You feel empty—a husk. You thought you’d be over it by now, his soft rejection. But he’s gone and picked the scab, reopening festering wounds beneath with his sentimentality.

Why couldn’t it be you? Why was it always—

Someone else?

You lean away from him the entire ride back to base, watching the streetlights blur past the tinted window with your forehead against the crisp glass. It’s all you can do to keep your tears at bay. To keep yourself from falling apart all over again.

And you don’t miss his reflection—those anguished, scarlet-spun eyes watching you. His mouth opening and closing, grappling with the right words to say, yet failing to get them out. 

What could he say that wouldn’t wound you more? 

—

You leave without warning the following morning while everyone’s asleep. Pack up your essentials, a duffle slung over your shoulder, a motorcycle purring between your legs.

You ride towards the horizon, no destination in sight, a sinking feeling in your throat. You thought you could do this. Thought you could brave the storm, the torrents of pain, the letdowns. Thought you could handle seeing him smile like that, hearing him laugh like that, knowing you weren’t the cause of it. 

You deserve better, don’t you? A change of scenery. A chance to start over. To figure out who you are again, without the crushing weight of a quiet, consuming, one-sided love tearing you asunder.

[heartfullofleeches]

[Tw: Suicidal Reader]

Femboy Assassin Yan: This can't be accurate... You ordered a hit on yourself??

Suicidal Darling: I'm too scared to do it myself, but... I'm even more afraid of being alive when I'm all alone and have been that way my whole life..

Femboy Assassin: ...

-

Femboy Housewife Yan: How are you feeling today, Sweetie?

Darling, wrapped in a blanket: Bad, but.. a little better that I was.. Is that okay?

Femboy Housewife Yan, kissing their forehead: It's a start, and that's all that matters.

[redroses07]

Luigi Mangione x Fiance!Reader

W/C: 1.2k

Summary: You see your fiance on the news, but not for anything good. You argue, and then you fuck.

Warnings: Smut 18+, Minors DNI, fingering, unprotected PinV sex (please use a condom irl), Dom/Sub, smut with feelings, arguing, mention of murder (duh), violence (also duh), swearing, mention of blood, kinda hurt comfort, angst, kinda a crackfic.

A/N: For legal reasons, THIS IS A JOKE. (if you know me irl, no you don't.) Idk y'all, this idea just came to me, and I'll probably be put on a list for this but yk, yolo. Anyways! Enjoy, and lmk in the comments if you want a part two with more angst. Love you guys!

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you mutter as you see the news banner. Written in bold capital letters.

‘UNITED HEALTHCARE CEO BRIAN THOMPSON ASSASSINATED BY UNKNOWN MASKED MAN’

A blurry CCTV image pictured a man in a green hoodie. His face was partially masked, but his eyes were still visible.

Your stomach dropped…you would recognize those eyes anywhere

‘he actually did it, that fucking idiot’, You thought to yourself.

You scrambled to find your phone, debating if making a call would consider you an accomplice in court.

You didn’t give a fuck.

You opened your phone, clicking on the only name you had pinned. Your heart rate increased with every ring.

Dial tone.

“Shit.” Your hands shook as you held back tears.

You faced cardiac arrest as your phone began to ring, the name ‘Luigi’ appearing at the top.

“Luigi, you fucking idiot they have you on the news.” You whispered, even if you were alone you couldn’t risk anyone overhearing.

You could hear his heavy breathing through the phone.

"Don't worry, I did what I had to." His usually calm voice was laced with anger.

"Where the hell are you?"

"Don't worry about that. I'll be home soon." He hung up on you.

You shouted in anger and you flung your phone across the room. Plopping down on the couch, you let your head fall into your shaky hands.

You kept your eyes locked on the door, continuing to curse under your breath. Praying that it would soon open, and the man you loved would walk through unharmed.

Someone, somewhere, must have heard your pleas because several minutes later Luigi came flying through the door. Out of breath, he wiped the sweat from his brow. He had a horrified look in his eyes, rightfully so.

You wasted no time, springing from your seat and rushing towards him. Taking his face in your hands you inspected him for any injuries, thankful for less than a scratch.

"Baby I'm fine." He took your hand in his, moving it away from his face.

"Well, yeah physically. But are we going to ignore the fact that you're now a fucking fugitive?" You shouted, refusing to hold back your anger.

"You don't understand. He fucking deserved it."

You pulled away from him, walking to the other side of the room.

"I'm not saying he didn't. but they're gonna catch you eventually, and then what?"

"I guess I'll go to jail. Sometimes these things have to be done. Violence has to be fought with violence."

Tears welled in your eyes, but they were no longer fearful. They were tears of rage.

"Are you serious?" You threw your hands up in the air.

"This is bigger than us, I want things to change for everyone." He took a few steps toward you, eyes not leaving you.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do if you're in jail? I fucking love you, Luigi. I understand what you're trying to do, but what if I'm not ready to make those sacrifices." Your voice was broken.

Luigi was silent. Staring at you with glassy eyes, and you could tell he was holding back tears as well.

You went back to your place on the couch, beginning to cry. You hid your face, tears falling into your sweaty palms.

After several moments alone, you felt a strong arm wrap around your body. Luigi pulled you into him, your cold skin pressed against his warm chest.

"I'm sorry." From the sound of it, Luigi was crying along with you.

"Hey, look at me." Lugi placed his hand under your chin, lifting your gaze.

"No matter what happens, I swear on my fucking life that I will find my way back to you." He didn't stutter, he didn't falter. He was the most honest man you knew, and his words gave you hope.

His lips crashed against yours, pulling you into a passionate kiss. It was as if it was the last time your lips would ever meet, and perhaps it was.

He pulled you even closer to him, and you wished for your bodies to melt into each other. Your hands found his hair, tugging at his loose curls. You let out a small moan. Luigi bit your lip, and the metallic taste of blood filled your mouth.

A pair of warm hands pressed themselves against your torso, tightly gripping your skin. Your lips disconnected for only a moment as your shirt was removed, your bra along with it.

You were pushed back against the couch cushion, Luigi's lips exploring your body. You took the opportunity to pull his shirt off, exposing his toned abs.

Before you knew it, your shorts and panties were gone. What had started out as an argument, had turned into the complete opposite.

Luigi sat up, examining you with a loving gaze.

"You're so beautiful." He said before diving into another kiss.

Your tongues tangled together, as Luigi applied pressure to your sensitive clit. You let out a low moan.

Luigi let out a deep laugh, before plunging two fingers into your aching core. You arched your back, unable to take the wave of pleasure that washed over you.

"You like that?" He whispered in your ear. His deep voice made you wetter than you already were; if that was even possible.

Luigi sucked and moaned against your skin as he worked. Your orgasm was approaching faster than normal.

"Fuck, oh fuck, I'm gonna.." You panted.

"Shhh, it's okay baby, cum for me." His free hand comes up to caress your face.

You ride out your orgasm with his fingers still inside of you, and before you know it; he is removing his belt and pants.

It's a blur, and his cock is inside of you. He's pumping in and out of you, slow but not too slow. A passionate type of slow. You had never felt so loved during sex until you met Luigi. Intimacy meant more to him than just pleasure, it was an act of love.

He laced your fingers together as he continued to fuck you, and you had never felt closer to him than you did at this moment. No one but the two of you, and the sounds of your moans.

"I fucking love you." It was the hundredth time he'd said it in the past hour, but it felt the same every time.

Luigi released himself inside of you and collapsed on your chest. He pulled out, his cum leaking from your cunt.

He continued to litter kisses on your skin, whispering praises between each one.

"We'll get through this." He whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear.

You did your best to push your troubles to the back of your mind. As for now, being with him was all that mattered. however, you never knew when it would be the last time.

[almadelsur]

Cannot stop thinking about fluffy best friend!Joaquin and jealous reader who is already inherently grumpy but who’s mood plummets 10x more when the cute barista invites Joaquin to some party her roommate has organised. With a curt, clearly irritated smile and a short “hmm” you’re ready to be on your way, but Joaquin ever the people person just offers a big grin and warm chocolate eyes paired with an excited “Sounds awesome, we’ll try to be there”. Clearly ignoring the fact that the invite only seemed to be aimed at him.

And naturally your mood doesn’t brighten as you guys walk back to your apartment, the preferred hangout spot. Joaquin’s terrible jokes and bright smiles don’t remedy the huff you’ve gotten yourself into and even when he lets you finish the last few bites of his churro, you don’t crack a smile. It then becomes increasingly obvious to him that something’s up.

“So you gonna make me ask or what?” He nudges you after your fifth eye roll of the walk. But of course, you being you, just brush it off and with a sharp and all too snappy “what?”. He offers you those big puppy dog eyes letting you know he sees right through you.

“I’m fine dude” you push on but Joaquin knows you better than that. “Yeah? So why are you acting like I’ve just stolen the last perfectly chilled can of guarana that I know is sitting in your fridge right now waiting for you to come home” he jokes knowing you far too well for your own good, it’s almost enough for you to crack a smile and forget all about your hissy fit. Almost.

“I’m not.” You huff, and it’s annoying. Anyone else would be done with your shit already, hell you’re done with your shit. But not Joaquin, never Joaquin. “I just thought you wanted a quiet night in, like I got you those snacks that you keep bitching are hard to find but whatever”

You almost trip over your feet when Joaquin stops dead in his tracks grabbing you by the shoulders to halt your movements too. “You got me gansitos?!” He says far too excitedly for the tone you’ve set, little does he know that you would travel all the way to Mexico and buy an entire grocery store full of snacks if it mean putting that smile on his face. “Stop tripping, I only said we’d go cause you keep bitching at me about how I’m a recluse, you know I’m more than happy to stay in and watch you get your ass beat at sonic riders” And little do you know that the only thing Joaquin ever wants to do is spend his very limited free time with you. Only with you.

“Alright relax, you only win cause you cheat” you roll your eyes, only this time with a hint of a smile gracing your face. Joaquin takes it as a win.

“Get outta here, I don’t cheat” he nudges you again, and just like that with your mood lifted and Joaquin’s warm arm loosely draped around your shoulders you continue your walk. Just a couple of best friends painfully unaware of how in love they are with each other.

PLS PLS PLS talk to me about Joaquin !!!! Send me everything !!!! I need an IV drip of Joaquin content

[rafesteddy]

𝓕𝓮𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂

🄼🅁 & 🄼🅁🅂 🄲🄰🄼🄴🅁🄾🄽

𝙻𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝙼𝚛. & 𝙼𝚛𝚜. 𝚂𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚑

𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧!𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐱 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝚂𝚒𝚡 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚘, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚋𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚊 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑-𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛. 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚐𝚘—𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚖.

cw | smut, swearing, pet names, unprotected p in v, choking, fingering, squirting, fighting, mentions of blood, murder, use of guns, graphic violence

⊹ 💌 ⁺ ˳ ✿ . ♥️ ࿐ 𝓛𝓲𝓼𝓫𝓸𝓷, 6 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓼 𝓪𝓰𝓸…

The bar is warm and dimly lit, the scent of citrus and aged whiskey hangs heavy in the air. The streets of Lisbon are alive with music and conversation, but the bar feels smaller and more intimate. 

You lean into the bar top, crossing your legs, letting the deep slit of your red dress pull up your thigh. You lift your Ginjinha, siping the cherry red liquor, watching the ruby red catch the light as you bring it to your lips. 

As soon as you do, a man stumbles in, breathing heavily, his broad chest rising and falling with each labored breath. He looks disheveled, wide-eyed, and entirely out of place as he walks toward the bar, stripping off clothes as he gets closer: a wide-brimmed hat, a bandana, and a hideous brown poncho tossing them under tables as he goes. 

You barely had time to blink before he was standing in front of you, his beautiful blue eyes locked on yours, intense, searching–and before you could say ‘hi,’ he grabbed your drink, plucking it off your fingers before downing it himself, slamming it against the bar top, grabbing you by your waist, and kissing you.

Your breath catches in your chest; your hands, pressed against his broad chest, feeling his heart hammer underneath. 

He doesn't pull away; his lips warm and insistent as his body melts into yours. But beneath the surface, you feel desperation, a plea, a warning… Don’t you dare pull away.

Just like the man, the police storm through the door as well. Your lips stay locked as you peer out of the side of your eyes, watching as they scan the bar, their sharp, predatory eyes sweeping over every patron with their weapons drawn. 

The man’s eyes are still shut, so you shut yours as well, playing along with whatever game he’s playing. 

His grip tightens on you ever so slightly–deepening the kiss, not just for the thrill but for survival. And it worked.

Without another word, the police turn and leave, passing the window outside as they continue their search down the street. The man pulls away, his lips barely brushing over the top of yours as he breathes a sigh of relief. His hand stays dressed around your waist, not ready to let go. 

You look up at him; your brow arched as the corners of your lips curl into a pretty smile at the beautiful man before you. 

“Can I help you?” You ask, your voice teasing but measured. 

He chuckles warmly, his laugh sending chills down your smile. 

“I think you just did, sweetheart,” he hums, his voice low and breathless still. 

You look away, casting your gaze on the bartop, looking at your empty Ginjinha. 

“I was drinking that, you know,” you tease breathily. 

“You didn’t buy it for me?” He asks as he bites his bottom lip and gestures for the bartender, wordlessly ordering two more. 

“What was that about,” you ask as you shift your gaze, nodding toward the door. 

He shrugs, leaning slightly into the bar and looking down at you. “Well, I’d tell you, but then I’d have to–”

“Kill you?” You finish his sentence, rolling your eyes away as another pretty smile plays on your lips that has him stepping even closer. 

“Mhmm… Exactly,” he chuckles as he sets a few euros down on the counter. “Nah, just the wrong place at the wrong time.” 

And, against your better judgment, you lift your glass… “Cheers.” 

⊹ 💌 ⁺ ˳ ✿ . ♥️ ࿐

The suburban life the two of you built in Figure Eight was nothing short of idyllic. 

Your house was nestled at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac, with white shutters and a perfectly manicured lawn, situated on a sprawling beachfront estate, making the two of you the envy of the young couples at the Island Club. 

Rafe worked hard, and so did you… Giving up his former life in the government to settle down with you. Rafe Cameron CEO… It was a vague title, but he had his hands in multiple multimillion-dollar developments on Kildare Island, bringing in a ‘shit ton of money,’ as he loves to say, so who were you to complain when a meeting went too long or a day at the office stretched a little too late?

You often found yourself studying Rafe in quiet moments—how his eyes sharpened when he heard something on the news or how he became a little more rigid when certain people called… But you chose to believe the illusion, to embrace the comfort rather than question it because he was perfect in every other sense of the word.

You truly love him, but love didn’t erase the years of training. 

⊹ 💌 ⁺ ˳ ✿ . ♥️ ࿐ 𝓢𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓱’𝓼 𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓮, 𝓑𝓪𝓻𝓫𝓪𝓭𝓸𝓼

The grand estate was washed in the eerie glow of the Barbados moonlight. The once-opulent halls were filled with the muffled sounds of gunfire and the impending weight of death. You moved carefully, breathing steadily despite the chaos, as you had many times before. 

Other assassins from rival organizations had descended upon the estate like vultures, all determined to take Singh out, turning the place into a bloodbath. The result was an all-out war, bloody takedown, and brutal firefights. 

But there was no way you were going to miss this hit–the money was too fucking good. 

"Move to the main hall. He's close,” your earpiece crackles. You adjust your hold on her weapon, rounding the corner. Watching as your next target moves in the shadows: dark tactical gear, his expression unreadable, his movements trained, and in his hand: a gun. 

Your stomach falls, your heart hammering in your chest as you watch Rafe lift his weapon, firing once.

It’s a brutal shot; the rival assassin drops to the flood, blood pooling beneath him as Rafe’s gun smokes. The shot was silent, but the impact echoed through your being, and for the first time in your career, your fingers trembled; the weapon in your hand felt foreign to you as you put your husband in your crosshairs. 

The former “government official”... The man you had spent the last six years loving, building a life with, trusting more than anyone, was an assassin… 

Exactly like you. 

The cold, sharp realization was a stab through your heart. You weren’t the only liar here… 

The only question is, did he know you had been lying, too? 

Your body refused to obey your mind… This was your Rafe. And for the first time in your life, you didn’t know what you were supposed to do. 

Rafe’s head turns slowly, sensing a shift in the room. And just like that, your perfect life crumbles around you. 

The air between you is thick; the weight of your betrayal, heavy on you both as Rafe stands there perplexed. 

He lifts his gun too, aiming it right back at you, fixing his grip nervously, no doubt feeling the same sense of unease…

Your concerns about him knowing you were anything but his perfect little housewife vanished as you saw the true horror in his eyes. 

Rafe reaches behind his ear, shutting off his earpiece as you do the same. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Rafe demands, his voice tight, almost breathless.

You let out a nervous laugh as your heart breaks a little more. “I could ask you the same thing, Rafe.” Your hands tremble, betrayed by your emotions as they bubble to the surface. 

You flick on your earpiece, listening to your orders come through as tears well in your eyes. “Five more in the building. Take them out. Singh’s in his office.” 

You swallow thickly, watching as Rafe gets the same message. His posture changes, and his grip shifts once again. He reaches up, flicking off his earpiece again as you do the same. 

“What did they just tell you?” He asks, his voice dark and lethal. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whisper 

Rafe sucks his teeth, his anger with you rising. “They told you to kill me, didn’t they? Five more targets… I’m one of the five.” 

“Yes,” you admit, knowing you should have lied. “And they told you the same—”

“Then do it,” he challenges you as his eyes narrow on yours. 

“You first.” 

The two of you stand there, tension building as you wait to see if you truly have it in your heart to do it. 

“Fuck, baby,” he hisses as he reaches behind his ear, flicking on his earpiece before he disappears into the shadows that he came out of, falling deeper into the hall. 

You swallow hard, vision blurring around the edges as you try to calm down. Neither of you knew what to do–that was clear–there was no easy way out of this. 

You slip down another hall–taking out two more bodies. Each kill is cleaner than the last, executed with the brutal efficiency that only came from years of training.

Every step forward—everybody that hit the ground—was just another step closer to the moment you both dreaded. 

Your heart thumps in your ears, making it hard to hear as you step down the long, dark hallway like a cat, gun drawn.

You move toward the office door, your fingers twitching, ready to press forward and pull the trigger on Singh. 

Rafe’s gloved hand slaps over your mouth, pulling you back where you came, yanking you into the darkness. 

You breathe hard through your nose, unable to speak with his hand so tight, struggling as he holds you against him, but it’s no use; he’s so much stronger.

His grip is constricting, but his breath is soft, fanning against your ear as he leans in close, hand moving down your thigh, sliding your dagger free. Rafe lifts the weapon, pressing it against your throat, shutting off your earpiece. 

You do your best to steady your breathing, clutching onto his thighs as your body presses flush against his, feeling his heart bang against your back. 

"Talk to me," he rasps, his voice raw with emotion. “I need to know what we're doing before we walk into that room."

"Rafe-"

"I love you," he cuts in, his voice nearly breaking. "I always have. I lied about what I do–about who l am, but I never lied about that. Never.” You feel your chest tighten, but you force yourself to stay cold. “I’m panicking," he admits, his forehead pressing briefly against your cheek. “I had no idea this was your life. I had no idea what you were."

You swallow hard, feeling the chill of the steel against your hot skin. 

“Rafe… Did you think I was in Lisbon on vacation? Really?” His grip on your body tightens a little more. "You know my position now… Think about it. What do you think I was doing in Lisbon?"

His silence is deafening, either in denial or unable to put the pieces together himself. 

"I was there to take you out," you whisper, feeling him flinch behind you. “I was sent to kill a government official; I was sent for you, Rafe. You were my target.” He exhales sharply as if you just gutted him. “I couldn't do it," you admit. "I should have. But I didn't."

“So what? You don’t love me? Our entire life was a fuckin’ lie, and we’re just gonna keep dancin’ around each other until one of us pulls the trigger–”

“I do love you, Rafe,” you stop him, your voice tightening from the weapon still flush with your skin. 

“How can I believe you?” He asks. 

You take a deep breath, blowing it out slowly as a tear rolls warm down your cheek. “Because I do–” A figure moves in the shadows just ahead, making the two of you fall silent—a rival killer neither of you had noticed. A sixth... He’s quiet, precise, creeping toward the door as Rafe holds you close, turning his body slightly to shield you. 

The assassin grabs the handle of Singh’s office, ready to take the kill for himself, and as he does, a shot rings out. A single bullet cuts straight through his skull, sending him to the floor. 

Rafe doesn’t think twice, his body moving on instinct, shoving you away as well before the echo of the gun even cleared the hallway, pushing you to the floor, too.

“Stay down,” he snarls, reaching behind his ear to flick on his earpiece as he charges toward the door, falling out of sight before it slams closed behind him, shutting it in your face. 

You grab the handle, struggling to tear it open a few times, your feet unsteady from the bloody mess on the marble below your feet.

You can hear the battle behind it, items from Sighn’s desk getting tossed around the room, grunts and groans, and shots fired. 

Thud.

Something heavy hits the floor, and everything goes silent. And again, for the second time tonight, everything around you crumbles. 

You take a few steps back, lifting your gun, shooting the handle. The hinges loosen as the door pops open ever so slightly. 

You press it open, seeing the toes of Rafe’s shoes lying on the floor, the sight making your heart shatter into a million pieces, his body too limp to tell if he's dead or alive. Singh stands over him, the marble desk weight in hand streaked with Rafe’s blood. 

You don't hesitate. Lifting your gun. One Shot. No time for mistakes. 

Singh’s body jerks, the impact sending him crashing backward onto his desk. His breath hitches once, twice, and then he slumps forward, lifeless. 

The room falls silent.

You stand there, breathing heavily, your eyes shifting to Rafe. You blink away your tears, staring down at the man you love. 

And then, his chest lifts–a shallow breath, but it’s enough. 

You walk over to Singh’s desk, grabbing his pen, writing down a note as you watch Rafe struggle on the floor, coming to. 

You flick on your earpiece as Rafe sits up, his eyes fluttering open as he adjusts to the bright light, and just as his beautiful blue eyes open, you shoot. 

Smoke rolls out of your gun as you press your finger against your mouth, silencing your husband as he looks up at you from the floor. 

Rafe stares back at you, perplexed, watching you as you walk closer, passing him the note. 

You lower yourself to the ground, looking in his eyes as they glass with tears. You cup his bruised cheek in your hand, and he leans into it, taking a deep breath. 

The only way to keep both of you alive is if one of you was to disappear… 

And you were more than willing to make that sacrifice. 

Rafe exhales sharply, pulling himself to his feet, clearing his throat before pushing it out slowly. "Report." His fingers lace into yours; his breath steady as he speaks the words that will change everything. "All targets have been eliminated.”

⊹ 💌 ⁺ ˳ ✿ . ♥️ ࿐ 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓡𝓲𝓽𝔃-𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓽𝓸𝓷

Rafe rests his head on your shoulder, the two of you looking at the water. He tucks himself into your neck, taking in your sweet perfume, kissing along your skin as he breathes a sigh of relief. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “You could have just taken me out, princess–followed your orders.” 

“Which time?” You ask, turning in closer to him. 

“Any of the three,” he chuckles, nuzzling closer. “You took Singh out, saved my life, pretended to take yourself out, and now you’re willing to give up your identity? Your entire life?” He asks in disbelief, his voice breaking with emotion. 

“My entire life, Rafe?”

“Yeah, baby.”

“You are the most important thing in my life… I did it for us. Okay?” You whisper. 

He swallows hard, his throat tightening as he pulls you in closer. “You’re willing to give up the life we had? The house, the neighbors, the little life we built in Kildare?”

“It wasn’t real,” you say, your voice trembling slightly. “This… What we have now. This is real, Rafe.” 

“I don’t deserve you, sweetheart,” he mumbles as he kisses your jaw, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. 

“Yes, you do,” you whisper. “You would have done the same for me.” He looks out at the water, taking a deep, needed breath. 

“I’d die for you,” he whispers. 

“I’d die for you too.” 

“Well, baby… Where are we goin’ now?” He mumbles as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you back to his chest. 

“Somewhere beautiful.” 

“Somewhere beautiful, huh? What’s your dream, princess?” He asks dreamily as his hands roam your curves. 

“Italy…” 

“Italy it is,” he whispers. Your body melts into him, your mind at peace for the moment, letting yourself believe it was all possible.

You don’t have answers yet; the plan is messy and rushed.

But you have him. 

⊹ 💌 ⁺ ˳ ✿ . ♥️ ࿐

The warm St. Thomas breeze drifts up to the balcony, carrying the faint music from the pool deck below. Rafe looks at you through half-lidded eyes–a glass of rum rested in your hand as a bead of condensation rolls down the side. 

He leans back on the lounge chair, a thick cigar balanced between his fingers, the tip glowing faintly in the dim light, lighting up his beautiful features with every drag. 

His thin button-down shirt is opened slightly, showing off his chiseled chest and gold chain; he runs his fingers through his tousled hair, looking back at you with a smile. 

You were looser now, the tension from earlier easing with every drink and story you shared. 

“You remember that girls' trip to Miami I took last year?” You ask, turning to him with a sly smile as he adjusts slightly in his seat, a playful smirk tugging on his perfect lips.

Rafe raises an eyebrow, tapping out his cigar. “‘Course I do, baby. The one with Cali and Jules.” 

“Mmm… That’s the one,” you smile from behind your glass before you take a little sip of rum, letting the sweetness linger on your tongue. “I was taking out a cartel lieutenant. He was staying at that ridiculous yacht club by the marina. Also, who the fuck are Cali and Jules?” You giggle, making Rafe release a deep chuckle, rolling his eyes away. 

“Forgettin’ your own story, sweetheart? And a cartel lieutenant, huh? Goddamn… That’s so sexy, baby.”

You look away for a moment, feeling your cheeks warm up from your smile as the tropic music swells around you, the low roar of the ocean filling the spaces in between.

“Your turn,” you hum, gesturing to Rafe with your glass. “How about that fishing trip with Top? The one where you came home with nothin’ but a sunburn?”

Rafe smirks, leaning forward slightly in his seat. “Yeah… That wasn’t a fishin’ trip. I was in Argentina, taking out a black-market arms dealer. It took me two days to find him, and the sunburn was real... I figured it’d sell the story.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you chuckle as you shake your head, crawling closer to him. 

“Pot, meet kettle,” Rafe teases as he grabs his tumbler, raising his glass in a toast. 

Rafe grabs for you, pulling you into his lap, looking down at you with a smile. 

“I used to feel guilty about lying to you. Every time I came back, I’d think about how much you trusted me, how much I wanted to tell you the truth–”

“Same,” Rafe admits, his voice low. “I’d watch you sleeping, thinking about everything you didn’t know. All the things I couldn’t tell you. It messed with my head sometimes.”

“Guess we’re not so different after all,” you whisper as you take the cigar off his hands, resting it between your lips. 

“Guess not, Jane Smith.”

You laugh, choking on your smoke. “Oh my god,” you sigh. 

“What? You don’t like that name?” Rafe teases you with your new identity as he tickles your sides. 

“Barry couldn’t have chosen a better one?” 

Rafe smirks, setting his glass down as he grabs you by your waist, guiding you to straddle his lap instead. He looks back at you in adoration, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “At home, though? You’re still y/n. My y/n.”

“That’s right,” you giggle breathily as you lean in, eliminating the space between you as Rafe does the same. 

Rafe mumbles a breathy ‘I love you’ against your lips before they meet, your arms looping around his strong neck as your kiss deepens. 

He groans into your mouth, and you moan into him, savoring the taste of his sweet lips. His big hand inches up your body, but you grab his wrist, guiding his hand to your tit. “Fuck, baby,” he moans as he squeezes. 

Your hand rests against his chest as your tongues reel, your nails scratching down. “Out here?” You giggle breathily, making Rafe smile against your lips, your hand pushing against his stiff dick, making your pussy ache.    

“Fuck, sweetheart… We can do it in there too.” He pulls you closer, his warm lips pressing against your neck, moving higher. “Who’s my girl?” He asks with a deep rasp as your hands trace down his broad chest, fingers falling to his belt.

“I’m your girl.” You bite your lip as you tug the leather belt through the loops.

“Mhmm,” he hums as he rubs his thumb across your shoulder, lowering one strap and the other. “That’s right, princess. You’re my fuckin’ girl,” he whispers through a playful smirk. You reach up, pulling your shirt and bra down around your waist, making Rafe release a deep groan.

He leans in, pressing his lips against yours— hungry and possessive. Your tongue tangles with his, separating briefly to tear him out of his shirt as his hands cup your chest, thumbs brushing across your nipples.

You wrap your hands around his neck, grinding into the rock-hard bulge. He quickly reaches down, tugging his pants down his thighs. 

You look down at him, eyes widening as you take him in: white, skin-tight boxer briefs bunched up slightly on his leg. His shaft and head stick out the bottom, strangled in cotton, leaking from the tip, dripping slightly down his inner thigh.

You trace his dick softly, making his muscles flex, rubbing his precum into his swollen tip as he watches, dick pulsing with each brush of your fingers. 

"So fucking big, baby." You whisper, bringing it to your lips before sucking it clean. He pulls them the rest of the way down—his heavy cock smacks against his toned stomach.

Rafe slides down in the seat, slightly guiding your arousal-pooled panties right on top of his dick, taking his lip between his teeth, rocking your body onto him.

His hands wrap around your back, slipping under your skirt to grip and knead your ass, pulling moan after moan from your lips. His stiff cock rubs against your clit, making you toss your head back.

Rafe buries himself in your neck, his warm breath hot against your skin as he breathes you in. “Fuck, I need you,” he mumbles needily against your neck before sinking his teeth into you growing impatient as your hips continue to rut shamelessly against his pulsing cock, making him take what he needs himself. 

Rafe reaches under your skirt, ripping one side of your panties and then the next, tossing the soaked lace to the floor with a sigh of relief as he grips his heavy cock with one hand, lifting your body right where he wants you with the other arm making you gasp.

Rafe’s lidded eyes connect with yours, lips falling open with his as he pushes inside you entirely. Your grip his shoulders, hands trembling as a deep groan thunders in his chest, feeling your warm, wet cunt wrap around him tight.

“Fuck, me,” he mutters under his breath as he leans into you, smiling against your lips before capturing your mouth in a tender kiss.

“You feel so fucking good, Rafe,” you whisper, whimpering as he presses his fingers against your clit. 

“Pussy’s so perfect,” he drawls; soft lips brush against yours, guiding you to roll your body just like you were before.

“I… Fuck—” You shutter as you feel his big cock fill you to the brim.

Rafe grabs your hips, lifting you up slightly, letting his cum leak out of your pussy onto his pulsing dick. His eyes lift to yours in a lust-ridden daze, muscles flexing as he lowers you back down on his length. 

He hisses out a breath; jaw clenched in overstimulation as he uses his cum as lube, fucking up into your soaked hole. You throw your head back, skin slapping against the skin, clasping your hand over your lips to contain your cries.

Your lips crash against his, kissing him deeply, feeling yourself about to lose control. “Fuck, Rafe… M’close,” you whimper against his lips.

“Yeah?” 

”Yeah,” you pant, “Mmm... Rafe. J-Just like that.” Rafe grabs your body, using his hold and his muscle to bounce you on his cock, again and again, pounding your pussy with his thick dick. Your thighs tremble uncontrollably, warmth tightening around him.

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” he groans. “Make a mess for me.”

Your pussy gushes and flutters around his big cock wetting his lap and his fingers. 

“Fuck, that's my girl… That’s my baby,” He buries himself in your neck, pulling you into his heaving chest. His eyes drift open slowly, greeting yours as he holds you in his arms.

Rafe kisses your forehead—then your nose and your lips. 

“Goddamn,” he mumbles. “Let’s get you cleaned up, huh? You wanna take a shower, princess?” Rafe kisses you again, lingering while your breathing slows together.

“Mmm… Please,” you whisper.

“I love you, sweetheart.” 

“I love you too, Rafe.” 

You lean in, sealing your words with a kiss.

It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a oath, unspoken but understood. A promise that whatever came next, you would face it together.

There were no lies, walls, or secrets between you for the first time in years.

Just love.

Raw, imperfect, and undeniably real.

⊹ 💌 ⁺ ˳ ✿ . ♥️ ࿐

dividers | @animatedglittergraphics-n-more