#[[ I need them to be soft to each other from time to time ]] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

autumnscribbles · 1 day ago

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take care of you | rc

pairing: mommyissues!rafe x pogue!reader

summary: after a heated argument with ward, rafe seeks comfort from the only woman in his life who’s ever stayed

warnings: wee bit of theorizing about mama cameron (death)

wc: 1.8k

a/n: hey friends!! thank you to the anon that sent this request in!! i love me a soft rafe moment who just needs to be held🥹 enjoy!! feel free to send me more angsty/soft rafe i love it!!!

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Rafe slammed the truck door shut behind him, twisting his key into the ignition. Ward stood in the doorway ahead of him, his mouth moving but his words unheard. Rafe stopped listening to him even before he decided to leave. He couldn’t listen to it anymore. The rain pelted the windowsill, overpowering the pounding sound of his accelerated heartbeat. He pulled out of the driveway, no destination in mind. He just had to leave.

As he drove, his headlights broke through the rain ahead, illuminating the pitch black road. His breathing was still heavy, trying to ignore his fight with Ward. They weren’t exactly few and far between, but this one had escalated particularly badly. He replayed it over and over, on the verge of screaming just to make it stop.

He didn’t know why he tried to hard to impress Ward, or to get his validation. Everyone is his life left in one way or another. Whether it was on their own terms, or they were taken. He clung to Ward and the fact that just maybe, he would stick around. Be proud of him. In the end, everyone gave up on him. Everyone screwed him over.

Except maybe one person.

When Rafe first met you, he didn’t like you. He never thought he could be friends with a pogue, let alone be with one romantically. You had too much confidence for someone who didn’t have very much. He admit, he thought less of you. He judged you about things that didn’t truly matter. Eventually, he began to find you endearing. You didn’t need boats, a big house, designer clothes, or anything material to be happy. You knew who you were, and he admired that.

You understood him in ways no kook ever had, and probably more than any kook ever will. You knew hardship, and you saw through his bravado. You could tell deep down, he was in pain. No money could fix what was truly happening inside. All the other kooks were shallow. Never having any conversations with substance, just rambling about bullshit. Rafe never really fit in with any of them. He pretended to be friends with most of them, to keep up appearances and his reputation. At the end of the day, he knew none of them truly cared about him. Even worse, he knew they would mock him if they knew he was with you.

Without realizing, Rafe ended up pulling into your driveway. Through the still pouring rain, he could barely see your house. All the lights were off, including the porch light. Were you home? He didn’t even know. As his mind reeled, he automatically drove here. He wanted to see you. Wanted your comfort. Before you, he hadn’t had that in a long time. Since his mom…no one had ever been there for him. No one to tell him things would be okay, no one to comfort him, or hold him. He craved it.

He hopped out of the car, jogging through the rain to your front door. He rapped his knuckles, hoping you would appear on the other side. He saw a light turn on inside, and exhaled a sigh of relief.

You opened the door, met with a dripping wet and sad looking Rafe on the other side. You were surprised to see him. You had some distance from each other recently, since Rafe told you that his friends couldn’t know about your relationship. You pulled back as he continued to hang out with them, unsure how to move forward.

Seeing him here made your heart sink. He pouted as his blue eyes bore into yours, sadness overcoming his entire expression.

“Can I come in?” he asked. “Please.”

“Of course,” you muttered. You stepped aside, letting Rafe into your empty house.

He crossed the threshold, a shiver coming over his body at the sudden change of temperature. His wet clothes left him cold, making the warmth of your house even more shocking to his system. He wiped at his face in attempt to dry it.

“Are you cold?” you asked gently. “Here let me go get you some clothes and a blanket.”

You walked away for a moment, leaving Rafe standing in your doorway. You gathered a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie that belonged to your brother. He wasn’t here, he wouldn’t mind. You snatched your fuzzy blanket from your bed, scurrying back to where Rafe stood waiting. You passed him the clothes, offering him to go change.

As he took his time, you put a kettle of water on the stove. Opening your white cabinets, you rummaged through the various flavours of tea you had. You settled on chamomile. You knew Rafe liked it, even though he would never admit it to literally anyone else. You grabbed 2 mugs and placed the tea bags inside as the kettle began whistling.

You took the two steaming mugs out to the coffee table, where Rafe sat on the couch, waiting for you.

“Here,” you muttered, handing him the mug. You grabbed the blanket, placing it across his lap. “That should warm you up.”

“Thank you,” he said softly, gentle eyes looking up at you.

You sat down beside him, tucking your legs up on the couch. You both sat in silence for a moment, sipping your tea. He let out a small sigh after his first sip, a little smile tugging at his lips.

“My favorite,” he whispered. You responded with a nod.

“You take such good care of me,” he said, breaking the silence more. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Rafe,” you sighed.

He shook his head, not wanting you to deny the truth. He didn’t want you to tell him that he deserved it when he knew it wasn’t true. You were consistently there for him, exuding a kindness he’d never felt. Yet what did he do in return? Essentially tell you he’s embarrassed about your relationship. It was ridiculous, and you shouldn’t be nice to him.

“Come here,” you whispered, opening your arms to him.

His eyes welled up with tears, and he leaned over, resting his head on your lap. You tugged the blanket up slightly higher, covering his torso. You ran your hands through his hair and down his back, feeling the tension release from his body.

Unexpectedly, the tears continued to fall harder. Rafe’s breath caught in his throat as he heaved out a sob.

“You’re okay,” you cooed. “I’m here.”

He let out all the emotions he had been trained to hold back. Grown men didn’t cry. Strong men didn’t cry. This is what he was told over and over. No one ever let him express himself freely, or show vulnerability. For some reason, he felt safe to show it around you. Confident that you didn’t judge him, or view him as weak.

He didn’t realize how much he was craving to just be held. To have his hair played with, his back scratched. To be told it’s okay. He couldn’t remember a time when someone treated him so gently. He wondered if his mom was the last person who truly took care of him. Now, he felt responsible to take care of people around him most of the time.

“Talk to me,” you said. “What happened?”

“My dad,” he blurted out. He rubbed the tears from his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried to compose himself. “We got into a fight, as always. I accused him of…of killing my mom.”

“What?” you asked, unable to hide the shock in your voice. “Do you really think…”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I was too young, but sometimes what he says just doesn’t add up. Doesn’t matter anyway, not like anything would happen to him.”

You nodded silently, knowing he was right. Even if Ward had killed her, no justice would be had. You knew Rafe grappled with the loss of his mom. Rose wasn’t exactly a replacement. She was cold, unkind. Rafe was in a constant battle with Ward. Trying to impress him, get his validation. Rafe grew up wanting his dad’s success, but most of all he just wanted his love. His acceptance. He didn’t think he would ever have a real family. That possibility only came into view when he met you.

“I’m so sorry, Rafe,” you consoled him. “I know how tense things can get with your dad. My arms are always open if you need a break, or need to talk.”

He sat up from your lap, facing you. His eyes were bloodshot from his previous tears. His usually hard features had softened, his eyes still carrying a deep sadness that you knew you couldn’t fix.

“I’m going to tell everyone we’re together,” he told you. “You’re…you’re perfect. You don’t deserve to be hidden. I don’t deserve you in general.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “When you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” he nodded. “I think…I think you’re the only person who actually cares about me. Who listens and…sees me.”

Your eyes welled up slightly. You weren’t expecting Rafe to say something so vulnerable like this. His rough edges were beginning to soften around you.

“I see you, Rafe,” you told him. You reached out and cupped the side of his face, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone.

He leaned forward, his warm lips crashing onto yours. The kiss was desperate, yet gentle. You didn’t realize how much you had missed this. When you pulled away, Rafe’s eyes were glistening once more.

“Everyone in my life leaves, or screws me over,” he told you, repeating his previous thoughts. “Please don’t leave me.”

You pulled him towards you, wrapping your arms around him. He melted into your touch, safety and warmth encompassing his entire being.

“I’m here, Rafe,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You heard his stomach gurgle, making you let out a quiet chuckle. “Hungry?”

He nodded into the crook of your shoulder. You laughed once more as he pulled back, a smirk on his face.

“Let me make you something,” you told him. You planted a kiss on his cheek before standing up, placing the blanket over his carefully. “You just sit here and relax, okay?”

“I love when you take care of me, baby,” he murmured as he rested his head on the arm of the couch.

You smiled down at him before going into the kitchen to make him some food. He felt safe with you. You had to admit that your heart soared at the thought that you were the first person he came to after a fight with his dad. The first person he opened up to about his mom, to try in front of.

You didn’t even realize it would always be you. You would always be the first person he would run to, even in a crowded room.

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#rafe cameron imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #obx #obx imagine #outer banks #rafe cameron fic #obx fic

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milla-frenchy · 1 day ago

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3k7 | Marcus Acacius x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist

Summary: Acacius returns from Numidia several months after his departure, and comes back to his wife

Warnings: 18+ mdni. fluff, smut, established relationship, Acacius and reader are married and deeply in love, Acacius is devoted to his wife (he’s soft, protective, caring and slightly possessive), oral (m/f), oil massages, size kink, piv, creampie. No age specified

a/n: this fic is just soft and sweet and I hope it will bring comfort to those who need it. This is my love letter to Acacius, basically, after watching Gladiator 2 (no spoilers towards the movie). I love this character so much. I did some research but I'm not an expert on ancient Rome at all.

Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for always holding my hand and for beta-ing, @joelmillerisapunk for cheering me up, @iamasaddie for being a sunshine- 🫶💓 dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏

You felt his presence before he even spoke.

You knew he was here, because all your worries, all the tension in your body, dissipated instantly. All the weight accumulated during those last months was removed from your shoulders, allowing your body to relax and open up.

"My lady..," you heard.

You stood up and faced him, turning away from the fish pond. You murmured his name then hurried towards him to snuggle against his broad, protective chest, where nothing bad could reach you. His arms surrounded you, as his lips kissed your forehead and your hands slid along his waist to his back. The warmth radiated from him, warming your entire being, body and soul.

"You are here, my love," you whispered, feeling tears well up in your eyes. You had been holding them back for so long. Too long. Because you didn't want to seem weak, and because you didn't want to let your brain swallow you up in its darkness.

But now Acacius was here, and you could allow your fragility to consume you for a moment, to be your true self, letting your emotions overwhelm you. Because you knew that he would want to absorb them for you, to protect you. To be your man.

"I'm finally here. I missed you, you have no idea. You were always in my thoughts, my beloved.”

You hugged each other tighter, and you buried your face in his chest, rubbing against him, like a cat that marks its territory with its scent.

"I missed you too, Acacius," you replied, finally raising your face to his, staring into those soft brown eyes that you missed so much. The eyes of your husband who had returned from Numidia. Returned victorious, as always, but the worry never left you when he was gone. The intrusive thoughts that made you fear that he wouldn’t come back to you, that he had perished. Or worse, taken prisoner. The highest representative of the Roman Empire on the battlefield, the general of Rome, gods only knew what they would do to him.

Caressing his cheek with your thumb, you chased away those dark thoughts to let yourself enjoy the present. Your husband, your love was there. You brushed his wrinkles, as you took the time to admire his slightly grayer curls, before running your fingers through them.

"You are even more beautiful than when I left," he said in a low, calm voice. You smiled when you heard him, moved by his love for you that was radiating from him. Love that had never wavered during your marriage. He always came back to you, as soon as he had dealt with the burdens placed upon him by the emperors he hated.

"Let me feed you, my love," you said. "And bathe you."

You walked toward the caldarium, his arm around your shoulder, yours around his waist, your body pressed against his. You were holding each other close as you were walking, it had been so long since he left for Africa nova.

“I cleaned myself before I went to the coliseum. You don’t have to, you know?”

“I know. But I love to do it, even if it’s only symbolic.”

He smiled warmly and saw you melt under his stare, then pressed a kiss on your temple to forget the fast beating of his own heart.

You undressed him slowly, layer by layer. Taking the time to place your hands on his chest before you would remove the last fabric, to feel his torso rise under your fingers. To process the fact that he was really back with you. He watched you roam his chest, shoulders, arms along his body, face lowered towards you. Smiling, patient. Soothed.

Once you managed to stop staring at his skin, his muscles, the way his body reacted to your touch, you tilted your head up to meet his eyes. You both smiled, happy and relieved to finally find each other again. You always marveled at his softness, that side of him only you knew.

Your fingers ran along his skin, and you frowned at each new wound you felt under your digits.

“You have so many new scars,” you said with a trembling voice. “I thank the gods for bringing you back to me.”

“Thank the soldiers, my love, they kept me alive,” he replied, brushing your cheek with his thumb. He had great respect for his men, treated them well, and had their complete trust. Tears appeared in your eyes again, and he gently took your chin between his fingers to lift your face up to him.

“I’m here now,” he said, his voice still low and calm. He knew you needed to be reassured, that meeting again always made his next departures more difficult, for both of you. He knew you were already anticipating them.

“I know,” you stammered. “I know. I just missed you a lot.” You tried to push aside the worries that were already trying to infiltrate your mind.

“I know, and I’m sorry about that, I wish I never had to leave. But I have great news: I won't have to go for now. I told the emperors that I wanted to rest and spend time with my wife. Darius will lead the next battle, he's ready.”

“This is such great news, Acacius!” you said, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and nestling your face in his neck. “I'm so relieved.”

He held you against him, before cupping your cheeks in his hands and resting his forehead against yours.

You moved slightly aside to pull off the last layer of clothing, freeing his half-hard cock. You thought about it so often when he was away as your fingers were buried inside you.

You covered him in oil and massaged his shoulders to relieve his physical tension. Then his chest, arms, palms and belly, taking your time. Gently, your fingers worked his skin, finding their favorite spots and his. Lingering there.

Finally, you faced him and took his shaft in hand, before jerking him off gently under the pretext of applying the oil, but you both felt the need grow.

You then asked him to sit in the warm water, and got undressed. The expression in his eyes changed from softness to eagerness and desire while he was watching you.

Fully hard, he stood up when you approached the bath, holding out his hand to accompany you down the steps.

“Sit on me,” he murmured in your ear, his beard brushing your skin. You straddled him, placing your hands on his cheeks before playing with his curls. You leaned down and finally kissed him, tasting his warm, soft, luscious lips. You both moaned and it made you smile, as you felt yourself mesmerized by him being finally there, with you.

He caressed your lips with his tongue, then slid it between them. Your tongues found each other, for the first time in months, and you felt dizzy, savoring him again. His hands roamed your back, squeezed your skin sometimes, while your kiss was only growing more feral and needy. Unable to wait any longer, you grabbed his cock and nestled it at your entrance, making him growl from the depth of his chest.

“Slowly,” he stammered. “No foreplay… don’t hurt yourself.”

“Can’t promise it,” you smiled. It was almost a lie, both of you knew it, you couldn’t take him slowly, your need to feel him being too strong. You sank onto his shaft with your arms resting on his broad shoulders, and you had to bite him slightly when the fat head of his cock began spreading you wide open, until you welcomed him fully, leaving both of you breathless for a second.

“That wasn’t exactly slow,” he laughed once he caught his breath, his hand against the back of your neck as you peppered his collarbone with kisses, your cunt full of him.

“Couldn’t wait,” you breathed and kept kissing him, slowly moving up and down his shaft, mixing your moans with his, your forehead against his. Your breaths mingled, similar in their urgency.

“I missed you. I missed you,” you repeated, while one of his hands was caressing your back, the other resting on your hip to accompany your movements, but sometimes pushing you slightly more down his cock.

“Me too, my love. Finally feeling you like that, wrapped around my cock, is almost unreal after all that time. But I won’t last, I’m sorry,” he said in a breathless voice. “It’s been too long since I felt the warmth of your cunt. Only my hand could give me a release when thoughts about you invaded my mind.”

“Now I’m here. Use me. Come,” you added, rubbing yourself against his lower stomach, knowing you would come soon too.

He held you tight in his arms, setting his pace, fast, powerful, to the point that the water overflowed from the bath with every move. He chased his orgasm, growling in your ear, his body surrounding yours, and you let him use you willingly until his grunts turned into moans and he froze, coming inside you. You pulsed on his shaft just after, milking his cock, feeling him shudder inside you.

You let him catch his breath and his wits before facing him, your hands on his cheeks, and covered his lips, cheeks, forehead with kisses. Already thinking about the moment you would go to your bedroom, and finally take the time to rediscover each other.

Washed, you had dinner, and you told him what happened during his absence. Life in Rome, the dream of Marcus Aurelius long forgotten. The emperors were hated by the subjects, and the cruel games were still allowed.

His worry was growing as he was listening to you. Each time he left, he was afraid a revolt would take place and he wouldn’t be there to protect you.

He asked you the question that had been burning his lips since his return, but that he was holding back, afraid of your answer.

“Did… did anyone hurt you while I was away?” he asked, eyes lowered to the ground, your hands in his. Then finally forcing himself to look at you and hear your answer.

“No, Acacius,” you answered quickly, eager to remove that weight from his shoulders and his heart. “Nothing happened to me, don’t worry.” You knew that he would lose his mind if someone hurt you, just like those who had hurt you would lose their heads.

He kissed your hands when he heard you, keeping them between his, brushing them with his thumbs.

“I couldn't stand it if that happened,” he added, voice shaking.

“I know, my love. But the guards protect me. The ones you chose, and trust completely. I am safe.”

He nodded, even though both of you knew he would never be calm during his absences.

Once fed, he told you about the new conquests. You felt the weariness on his shoulders and in his eyes. His anger. The emperors were making him lose patience, every day a little more.

“Enough about this,” he said finally. “I don't want my return to be full of sadness and bitterness. I saw how tense your body is, I will help you relax with some oil, like you did to me.”

“Acacius… you need to rest after these last few months. Not to take care of me,” you replied softly.

“I am your husband,” he said gently but firmly, moving closer to you until he took your hand in his and kissed it. “Your man. There’s nothing else that I want to do more.” You looked at him and smiled.

Once in the bedroom, he asked you to undress and lie down naked on your stomach. He poured some oil in his hands, and rubbed them together. He didn't take his eyes off you until you were on the bed. "You're so beautiful," he said. “I’m gonna take care of you. I missed it.”

He started by massaging your neck, with perfect pressure. Hands flat, he pressed his thumbs against each tense spot, helping to release the tension step by step. You felt your muscles relax at his touch, from your neck to your shoulders. Once satisfied with the way your body responded to his movements, he coated his hands with oil again, then he took care of your lower back. Your pelvis had been stuck for weeks, and you knew that he would do wonders, as always. That the next day, when you woke up, it would be free of its tensions.

“Do you feel better?” he asked, kissing your shoulder, his moustache brushing your skin.

“Better than ever. Thank you, my love.”

“Perfect. Turn around now, please." You rolled onto your back, and you saw his eyes linger on your breasts for a few seconds, nipples hard after his hands on you.

“Well, General?” you chuckled.

“Mmm. I was staring, wasn’t I? I missed them too,” he confessed, blushing slightly, which was cute, coming from him.

He massaged your arms then your thighs, one by one, down to your ankles and feet, careful not to touch your breasts or even look at them, as if that would end the session prematurely. You didn't take your eyes off him, watching his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his tongue brushing his lip, his teeth nibbling on it.

Finally, you saw his gaze fixed on your pussy, something he had also avoided until then. The candlelight certainly didn’t allow him to see, but he probably knew you were flowing down to the bed. His hand slid from your ankle to your thigh, then brushed your folds before slipping between them, making you whine, as you heard the grunt of approval when his finger got lost in your wetness.

He took a deep breath and said “I’m too eager to taste you, now. But tomorrow I will touch, lick, worship your whole body. I want to kiss you, from your forehead to your toes. Take back what’s mine.”

“I’m yours, always, Acacius. Whether you are here or not.”

“I know, my sweet girl, I know. As I’m yours. Ad vitam aeternam. (forever)”

He got undressed and you loved that he took his time doing it, with a soft smile on his lips. You loved knowing that he would be there with you for several weeks. Every day and every night.

You were never tired of looking at him. His body was a gift from the gods. His strong neck, with veins bulging every time he thrust into you. His broad shoulders, his belly slightly softer as the years passed. His large hands, next to which yours seemed tiny.

His cock.

So massive that on your wedding night you had been so afraid that you had thought of running away. But he had assured you that he would be gentle and go slowly, that he would take care of you. After another hesitation you had chosen to trust him, his tone, his gaze, and two nights later it had seemed that you had been physically made for each other.

But more than his body, his personality, his loyalty, the way he cared about you, made him a loving, reliable, protective husband. You thanked the gods every day for making him yours.

Once naked, he knelt on the bed between your thighs, gently spreading them, finally revealing your pussy. Again, he took a deep breath. His thumb ran over your wet folds.

“You’re drooling for me.”

He lay down, bringing his face closer to your pussy and breathing it in. “Gods, I missed it.”

His tongue traced a stripe between your folds, up to your clit, making you whine. He looked up at you, adding “now, you’re gonna feed me.”

He dove between your thighs, eyes closed, your folds spread by his thumbs, burying his tongue in your core. Feasting, like he did each time he came back, but not only. From the wedding night, and all the others that followed, he had shown you how much he loved eating you out, pulling orgasm after orgasm, sometimes two in a row because he didn’t want to or couldn't stop.

“Acacius,” you whimpered while his nose was rubbing perfectly against your clit. As he had learned during all those years the way your body responded to him.

Back arched, hands lost in his curls, you moved in harmony with his mouth and his tongue, reaching for him, rolling your hips towards him. He pulled back for a few seconds to look at you, and smiled when you cried for his loss. His beard and mustache glistened with your slick and his pupils were dilated as if he had consumed opium to heal a wound. He leaned towards you again, pushing one thick finger between your folds and then sucking your clit. He quickly added a second digit when he heard your needy moans, and licked at your clit. Your hands moved from his curls to your breasts, then to the sheets, your fists clenching on them.

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come,” you whimpered, pelvis tilted towards him as far as possible, as if he wasn't already so close to you. The pleasure that was growing in your core finally exploded, hands and thighs holding his head against your cunt, not wanting him to stop. Docile, he kept licking and pumping you with his fingers, until you stopped clenching on them and released him.

He straightened up, crawling between your thighs, taking one nipple in his mouth, sucking on it like his life depended on it before moving on to the other, leaving them glistening with his saliva. Finally, lying between your thighs, he kissed you, his mouth and lips tasting like you.

“I want to taste you too, please,” you begged.

“Of course, my sweet girl. You don’t have to ask. I’m all yours.”

You kissed him before he rolled onto his back, and you straddled him. Covering his cheeks, lips, neck with kisses, then moving down to his torso, hands roaming over his skin. You took one of his nipples in your mouth, sucking, nibbling, licking, then the other, without taking your eyes off him. Admiring his beautiful face. You continued to move down, kissing his belly and hips, your breasts brushing his hard, oozing cock. You took his shaft in hand, and licked his balls, eyes still fixed on him, to see him drop his head back on the bed. “Gods..,” you heard him breathe.

You smiled and left his balls to suck on his tip, lingering on it, giving you some time to get used to its width, to savor him in your mouth again. His precum flowed in your throat. He had been gone for so long that you were afraid you had forgotten the taste, but it was so familiar again now. Your head bobbing on his shaft, you wanted to make him feel good, wetness dripping from your cunt, moaning on his shaft, and you closed your eyes until you heard him growl louder. Then opened them to see his head raised towards you. One of his hands was placed on the back of your neck.

“You like it, General?” you asked playfully, then licked his shaft tongue flat.

“It’s divine.”

You crawled towards him, arousal dripping from your core after sucking him, you kissed his body again and then his lips, before murmuring “take me.”

His eyes darkened and in one movement he laid you down on the bed, under him. Pressing his cock to your entrance, this time he didn't wait, hands tight on your hips, he pushed his whole lenght into your cunt. His massive cock, so hard that you lost your breath. He never took his eyes off you, dark gaze lowered towards you, soft eyes forgotten in favor of a feral stare. He was possessive, claiming your body as he claimed cities during battles, like his body and mind needed it. Like you needed it too.

You tried to keep your eyes open, to look at him, leaning towards you, eyebrows furrowed, veins throbbing. But the relentless rhythm of his shaft spreading your walls made you forget where you were, leaving you moaning and repeating his name. You clung to his shoulders, telling him how much you loved to feel him again, how much you needed it.

“Always taking me so well”, he growled, and you hummed with approval.

He slid his hand to the back of your neck, holding you close, his nose against your ear. He breathed you in, focused on your moans, eager to have all his senses filled with you, after months of being surrounded by dirt, screams and blood.

He was home now, you were his home.

“Acacius,” you whined, his crotch rubbing perfectly where you needed it.

“Come for me. Soak me.”

“Oh gods… Acacius… Acacius,” you whimpered, your orgasm rushing over you, making you pulse on his shaft, your clit throbbing against his skin.

“Just like that, squeezing me so hard… you were made for me,” he murmured, his breathing now ragged as his own pleasure rose.

“I’m… oh gods,” he said, just before cumming inside you, long spurts of cum painting your walls in white. You held him tighter against you, as he moaned in your ear. Your general of Rome, now the most vulnerable man in your arms.

His jolts finally stopped and he straightened up slightly, careful not to crush you under his weight. He covered your skin with kisses, from your neck to your lips, before rolling onto his side and welcoming you against his chest, arms wrapped around your bare body. Both of you waited for your breathings to calm down.

“I cherish it, you know,” you said, curled up against his chest.

“What do you cherish?” he asked, caressing your skin with his large, loving hands.

“Having you like this, in these moments. It always seems unreal to me, your softness and protectiveness towards me, knowing that you lead battles for Rome. Everyone who fought near you evokes your cold blood.”

He hugged you closer and kissed your forehead, brushing it for a moment with his moustache.

“I love you. I’m only myself when I’m home, with you.”

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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@pascalsanctuary @littlemisspascal @survivingandenduring

npt ❤️ tagging those who showed interest in the wip post, love you ❤️

@jessthebaker @schnarfer @sawymredfox @itwasntimethatdidit40 @mothandpidgeon

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#marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius #pedro pascal #gladiator 2 #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius x female reader #pedro pascal characters #general acacius

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nochepsicodelica · 6 hours ago

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NSFW

Just some thoughts of you and Toji sharing a hotel room with Shiu when you go on a trip. There are two beds, you and Toji share one, and Shiu gets the other one to his mopey self, because his wife won't be there until the next day. He gets to warm the bed up on his own and he hates every minute of it, because one: he's third wheeling you and Toji, and two: you and Toji act as if he's not there when it's time to go to sleep.

"Why aren't you sleeping, pretty girl? Do I need to go down there and put you to sleep or what?" Toji murmurs.

You giggle, quietly. "Maybe. I do get pretty tired after you make me cum."

"Yeah, you do," he says, proudly. "You wet, right now, mama?" Toji asks, already unknotting the drawstrings of your shorts.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" You say, your voice too soft for what you're inviting him to do. Still, Toji bites and leans in to kiss you as his hand slides down the front of your shorts and beneath your panties. His hand meets your pelvis and continues its downward path, until his fingertips reach the messiness of your slick-ridden cunt. He teases you with barely there flicks of his fingers to your clit.

Shiu's eyes widen the slightest bit, before his eyebrows furrow. He swears he just heard a moan coming from the bundle of blankets on the right side of the room.

"Stop touching each other," he says, irritation heavy in his tone. "Jesus," he grumbles. The one time he didn't bring his headphones, the one time his wife isn't there to let him do the same things to her, that Toji is doing to you. And you both just continue to ignore him.

Your hand comes down to palm at the prominent bulge in Toji's boxers. You can feel his clothed cock twitching in your hand after every gentle squeeze you offer to the thick length.

"Fuck, don't tease me like that, doll. Touch it." His body jerks slightly when you slide your hand down his boxers and wrap it around his sticky length. "Shit, your hands are freezing," he whispers, hissing at the coldness that meets his warm skin.

"You want me to keep going or not?" You ask, teasingly, not stopping the movement of your hand as you wait for him to respond.

"Nah, nah, you're getting warmer. Keep going."

You both think you're doing so well at muffling each other's sounds of pleasure with deep kisses, but the sounds of heavier breathing and constantly rustling sheets in the otherwise steady room, are a dead giveaway to your indecent acts. Shiu has to choose between suffering by being uncomfortably hot with the blanket bundled around his head to shut out the sounds, or being comfortable and suffering with the clear sounds of your sexual antics.

"Shh," Toji hushes, when you let out a little whimper. "Just keep kissing me."

Despite how intense the sensations are, you both keep going. Toji's fingers don't stop rubbing your clit, and your hand doesn't stop gliding up and down his cock. You're both treating the act of sharing a bed as you usually do when you're alone, despite the poor man trying to sleep one bed over.

It takes hearing an uncontained high pitched gasp for Shiu to kick off his blanket and jump out of bed with a grumble. He grabs his car keys off the table and puts on his slippers, directing himself towards the door. "Going to the store. You two better be done by the time I come back."

The second the heavy door shuts, clothes are being pulled at through impatient, all consuming kisses. It gets to the point where you actually have to slow down to get them off, because you aren't making any progress, but once it's all discarded of, absolutely no time is wasted. Your legs find refuge hooked over Toji's shoulders, and his hands home to your hips and your waist. You both freely make as much noise as you want as you indulge in each other like you really are home alone. Minutes unknowingly turned into an hour and after four intense orgasms, you've tired each other out. Toji gets out of bed to grab a towel to clean you and himself up, and once the cleanup process is done, both of you fall asleep, soundly.

Shiu comes back half an hour after you both fell asleep. He's empty handed, looking a little more disheveled than when he left the room, because "going to the store" was code for sitting in his car and having phone sex with his wife. He tip toes further into the room to see if you and Toji are sleeping, and when he sees the way Toji is spooning you with his face pressed to the nape of your neck, and the way your hand rests on the arm he has slinged around your waist, he shakes his head and lets out a small chuckle.

"Rabbits."

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moomiewoomie · 2 days ago

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First time — Nicholas Alexander Chavez

MINORS DNI!! SMUT!! unprotected p in v, both virgins, implied late teenagers 18-19 years old, female receiving fingering, light hearted, nipple stimulated, missionary, giggly sex, size difference, size kink, tentative.

a/n: this is a bit rushed and not proof read, I hope you guys like it. FEEL FREE TO LEAVE SUGGESTIONS!!

you sat across from each other on his navy sheet glad bed, you where both sat cross legged holding hands. It was all extremely intimate, despite the nerves and the awkwardness. You both sat in silence, neither of you wanted to make the first move. you were both far to nervous. you realised quickly that if you didn’t make the first move sex would never come. after a moment of hesitation you lean in and press a slow tentative kiss against his lips. the kiss lasts for a few seconds before you pull away to speak. “are you nervous?”

His Adam’s apple bobs and he nods his head. “yeah… this means a lot to me” he whispered gently, a shy smile spread across his flushed face. you nod you head, understanding him. you felt the same way. “me too, I’m kinda shaking” you giggled, a touch ‘embarrassed. you bring up your hands to show him how they shook. he let out a little chuckle and leans in to press a soft kiss against the very tip of your nose. “your shaking like a leaf” he pokes fun at you playfully

you snort and gently hit his shoulder, he gives you a half hearted scold. the tension seemed to float away when you two began to speak. you guys fell silent and you decided to get the ball rolling once again. “wanna help me get my clothes off?” you ask gently, a shy smile spread across your pink lips. Nicholas eyes widened and he nodded his head eagerly.

with shaky hands he begins to slowly unbutton your blouse, button by button your little white lace bra is slowly revealed. he gulped as he pushed the soft fabric off of her shoulders. “your turn” you giggled, once he was done you begin to pull off his own shirt revealing his lean chest. he reaches his hands down and begins to unbutton your jeans and then he pushes them down, you lift up your hips to help him pull down her pants. Next you unbuckle his belt and he helps you shimmy off his jeans.

you sit infront of each other in your underwear, his erection is incredibly visible through his black boxers. you look him up and down and let out a little giggle. “You look good” you whispered gently. A shy grin spread across his face and he looks away from a moment unable to hold your gaze, he was clearly extremely flattered and from the erection in his jeans, he was clearly turned on. ”thanks… you look…” his voice turned off. He couldn’t seem to put it into words how beautiful you looked in your little lace panties and bra.

he reaches a hand out tentatively and gently traces your bra strap with his index finger, he looks up at you for permission as his hands snake around to your bra clasp. You know your head and with a little struggle he manages to unhook your bra, he wasn’t proud to admit that he had practice before especially for tonight. Your bro dropped the ground and Nicholas’s jaw dropped. His atoms Apple and he stared almost in awe at your breast, he’s seen tits in magazine and porn but never in real life.

with a little hesitation, he reaches a hands up. His hand hover over your breast for a moment and he looks up at you for consent once more. “Go ahead…” whispered gently and he goes ahead. He gently cups your breast, fuck. He begins to gently need your breasts always playing with them like a toddler would play with a toy, he had this huge satisfied grin on his face. You lean in and whisper gently “can you try sucking them?” he looks up from your breast and not his head eagerly. He dipped his head down and begins to slowly suck on your pebbled pink nipple.

You bite down on your tongue and close your eyes as you savour the feeling of his hot mouth working against your pink nub. nicks cock throbs painfully against his boxers, he slips a hand down and begins stroking himself slowly to relieve some built-up pressure. You notice and your hand down, your hand joins his. You begin help him jerk himself off.

His hips began to buck up into yours and his hand. “oh god… y/n” he groans as you begin to stroke him faster. it isn’t long before his face was scrunched up in this incredibly hot mix of concentration and pleasure. his hands dug into the sides of the pillow either your head. “Shit, I-I’m… gonna… oh god” he gasps as he spills his load all over your stomach. after a few more bucks and thrusts he stops fucking your hand, he pants as he catches his breath. “you came before we could have sex” you pout, he reaches a hand down to cup your face.

“give me a minute, I’m already getting hard again” he chuckled sheepishly. the erotic sight of your stomach painted in his cum was enough to making his semi hard on a raging boner. “Your happy” he tease him. he reaches his hands down to grab onto your inner thighs, he pushes your thighs wide apart and settles between your spilt thighs. one hand lets go of your squishy thighs and pulls aside the crotch of your lace panties. Nick suppresses a groan when he sees your glisten pink folds.

I bits down on his bottom lip and begins to press the tip of his penis against your entrance. he looks up to you once again to seek consent. “mhm… that’s okay” you reassure him. he nods his head and scrunches his face up in concentration. “this might hurt.” he warns you, he had admittedly did some research for tonight. he slowly pushes the tip of his penis into your wet snatch, you let out a gasp of pain when he stretches you out. your nails came out to dig into nicks back muscles.

“do you need me to stop?” worry was written all over nicks face when he asked you if he needed to stop. you wince but you shake your head, you can power through. “No… no” you whisper weakly. he lets out a small hum and continues to slowly push his member deeper and deeper into you until he was half way in. “can you rub my clit?” you asked gently, you always felt comfortable suggesting things like that around him. “shit. Yeah of course” he nods his head dipping a hand down to begin rubbing your pink sensitive nub.

that feels good, so good. the pain of him stretching you out gets more and more bearable until it starts to feel good. The tip of his penis begins to press against your special spot, you let out a surprised gasp at the sudden pleasure you were feeling. he stops and looks down at you, his finger pausing on your clit. “are you okay?” He asked. Worried that you gasp was a gasp of pain. “no silly, that feels really good” you praise him. “Oh” he chuckles sheepishly before continuing.

Nichola begins to speed up, he’s using all his strength to stop himself from cumming right then and there. his face crunches up in concentration. “I-I’m trying really hard not to cum” he grunts. you let out a little giggle and whispers back to him. “Me too”, you both laugh. he leans down and presses a slow kiss against your lips so he can muffle his own groans and moans. it’s not long before his finger on your clit gets to you and you begin moaning against the kiss too.

his thrusts grows almost erratic, like he’s trying his hardest not to thrust himself deep into you. His face scrunches up in pleasure and his mouth drops open. “Fuck I’m close” he groans, you nod your head in agreement and begins to buck your hips up to get more friction against his finger. “Yeah, same” you breath out weakly. your nails dig into his back muscles as his finger speeds up on your clit and his penis rubs against your special spot. your back arches off his bed and his hand digs into your hip.

“Shit!” he gasps, you both reach the edge together. his body tenses and his balls tighten as he suddenly pulls out his cock to spill all over your stomach. his fingers continue on your clit so your came cum too. your eyes widened and you let out a loud moan of pleasure. you both stare back at each other with widened eyes, your moans turns into pants as you try to catch your breath.

“god…” he whispered using gods name in vain.

#nicholas chavez smut #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez #monsters: the lyle and erik menendez story #lyle menendez #erik menendez #charlie mayhew smut #charlie mayhew x reader #father charlie mayhew #smut #size difference

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red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 2 days ago

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Hawks x Y/N | Doggy Style

Just pictured Hawks fucking me doggy style and I straight up drooled...so here's a little head cannon about it. A18+ MDNI

When Hawks lines himself up behind you, your dripping wet with anticipation. He starts like he always does, gently spreading your legs and slipping his hands up and down your hips to appreciate your curves.

You shiver when you feel the head of his cock brush against your sensitive pussy. He grins and slides his dick back and forth against you slowly. His cockhead glides against your clit and you see stars at the contact.

"Please, Keigo." You groan out, face planted firmly in a pillow, your ass up in the air beneath his capable hands. "Can't wait any longer."

You hear him chuckle to himself from behind you, and then feel him gently pushing inside. That's the thing about Keigo - he's always so, so gentle when he fucks you.

It's funny...you're not even together. Not really. Just two friends who's careers prevent them from dating and settling down. Instead of trying your hands at the dating market, you fuck each other. It's easier this way. Less complicated. You each know what the other likes in bed, and there's no time to sleep around so you don't need to waste time with condoms.

He fucks into you slowly, like you're something precious. Strong, calloused hero hands grip the sides of your ass as he buries himself inside of you, inch by inch. When he bottoms out, he lets out a strangled gasp. "No matter how many times we do this, I never get used to the feel of you. So goddamn good." He practically growls, throwing his head back as he starts to move inside of you.

Each stroke is measured - he finds the perfect rhythm and tempo as he glides in and out of your soaked pussy. Your hazy brain's pleasure receptors sparkle at the way he bucks his hips to hit that special spot deep inside of you. You feel your orgasm building as he slides a hand down your hips, up your stomach and smooths rough fingertips across your nipples. You vaguely wonder at when this turned from a friends with benefits situation to love. When he fucks you like this - all sweet and thoughtful - you swear you're in love with him. This has got to be love, right?

He keeps his pace steady and scoots closer to you so he can kiss at the planes of your back. He presses soft, open mouthed kisses to all the skin within his reach. You back up into him, feeling his balls bounce against you as he keeps his rhythm steady.

"Yes, baby. Just like that. Take it. Take everything I've got." He practically moans, singing your praises as you help him fuck you. That's new - since when did he call you baby!?

"Keigo!" You cry out as he brings his fingertips down to play with your clit. He rubs slow, lazy circles around you, encouraging you to cum whenever your ready. "Keigo fuckkk. Cum inside me? Please. Please cum inside me oh fuck."

He doesn't need telling twice - he lets himself get comfortable inside of you, enjoying the warm squeeze and stretch of your tiny cunt as he fucks you.

You cum around his cock within minutes, crying out his name as he fucks you into oblivion. A creamy ring forms around his dick as you throw it back and fuck him senseless - riding out your orgasm as he rolls his hips steadily. The fluttering of your pussy around his dick sends him over the edge as well. Thick, warm ropes of cum fill you up quickly. Your pussy milks him, taking every bit of cum his cock is willing to give you.

When he's finally finished inside of you, he slowly pulls out. You know he likes to watch the creampie drip out of you slowly, so you hold your position to give him a good view. When he's had his fill of looking, he slips off the mattress and grabs a warm washcloth from the bathroom to indulge in some after care. He wipes gently between your legs, avoiding your gaze as does so.

"So..." He says, somewhat awkwardly as he wipes up his baby batter between your thighs. "I don't know that I can do this casually with you anymore. Y/N. I'm, like, down bad for you."

You snap your legs shut and look up at him, surprised.

"I want us to be more than fuck buddies. I think we should go on a date." He says earnestly, handing over the washcloth so you can continue the job on your own. "I mean...of course I want to continue fucking. Fucking you is literally my favorite thing. I just want it to mean something more."

"Keigo, you're babbling." You say. The face you're making is absolutely priceless - you definitely weren't expecting this conversation to happen tonight.

"Cumming makes me emotionally intelligent." He jokes, throwing you a cheeky fan service wink. "Think about it. The date, I mean."

"Alright. Let's start now. Wanna go grab some food?" You say, your stomach growling loudly in agreement. Hawks looks at you with hearts in his eyes and nods excitedly.

"A woman after my own heart." He slides off the bed to gather up your clothes and pass them your way. "It's a date."

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distort1xn · 2 days ago

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okay, so, i need to talk more about The CaitVi Scene in episode 8.

i’ve been rewatching it on loop. not because i’m weird about it, but because it’s animated. why is that important? because the animators had to make deliberate choices to draw each and every frame in that scene. none of it was by accident. there’s interesting little bits to see, like:

if you keep an eye on the kissing, you can see them using tongue.

cait is extremely gentle with vi, while vi is rough with cait (usually, everyone is rough with vi and gentle with cait – so, cait decides to show vi she doesn’t always have to expect punches, and vi shows cait she knows cait isn’t some breakable little porcelain doll).

when vi undoes the clasp on cait’s pants, you can see cait has a little mole on her tummy.

when they show vi’s back, you can see each and every muscle ripple beneath her tattoo.

even vi’s bare chest isn’t shown to be soft – she’s a woman precisely because she’s so deeply caring and loving, and she doesn’t need curves and softness to represent that.

caitlyn is every bit the ‘piltover princess’ everyone thinks she is, with perfect proportions and a stunning physique.

if you keep a good eye when vi is going down on cait, cait doesn’t wax her coochie bald. she clearly maintains it, but it’s not bald.

at the same time, vi maintains eye contact with cait the entire time, like making sure cait feels good is the only thing she cares about.

when cait pulls away to tell vi about her seeing someone else during their time apart, you can see vi breathless and dazed at the loss in the split second before the ‘camera’ pans to cait.

they both giggle when vi fights with cait’s pants’ clasp.

after cait tells vi about maddie and they kiss again, they ‘come up for air’ and smile at each other.

cait takes her shirt off first to indicate she’s not afraid or ashamed to be with vi and, by extension, a zaunite anymore. she also takes off vi’s vest as a first indication of how she plans to be gentle and caring with vi from then on.

vi can’t seem to get cait close enough to her, constantly tugging and pawing at her. this drives cait wild and she fights to keep up to show vi she wouldn’t want to be anywhere and with anyone else.

arcane best show ever, etc, and so forth.

[p.s. if anyone wants to add to this and/or discuss this more in the reblogs/comments/tags, please do. i’m so curious about everyone else’s interpretations!]

#arcane #caitvi #lesbians

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gilverrwrites · 1 day ago

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Imagine desperate Jason crawling through your window late at night. You've been crushing on each other for a while now, but he is blind by his insecurities to see your obvious heart eyes. His self control has finally snapped- maybe you've been putting your hand on his thigh or leaning against him, dropping hints that only push him over the edge. He very quietly, very carefully slips into your bed. "Just once..." he thinks, slipping your panties off your sleeping form "one time and I'll be okay..."

Jason Todd/Reader I can't lie, there's little more I enjoy than writing Jason being being a little bit depraved and/or pathetic. Sorry to my fellow ugly sleepers with thunderous snores, we're babes too. Warnings: Dub-con, somno

Just this once he'd told himself the very first time he’d jimmied your rusty old window lock open with his switchblade. Your texts had stopped abruptly, all he wanted to do was poke his head in and check that you were safe and sound, tucked up in bed.

Just this once he'd said again, the next time as your creaky hardwood floors cried out beneath the weight of his steel-toed boots. You were bedridden with flu. He was being a good friend, checking your temperature and refilling your water.

Just this once he'd promised the time he settled onto the edge of your bed, taking respite from a rough night by watching you; so serene, so peaceful. He listened to the sound of your shallow breathing until his eyes grew heavy.

Just this once he’ll allow himself to really relax, just this once he’ll kick off his shoes, take off his hood and lie beside you. He just needs to be close to you, to feel your warmth beside him, to feel your breath on his skin.

Just this once he’d sworn every time, but now he knows exactly what angle to tap your lock at, which floorboards make the least noise, how slowly to lower his weight onto your bed to prevent it dipping under his weight too quickly and making you stir.

But just this once he needs more from you than he would normally take.

You've been so hard to be around lately, his self-control is in pieces. You stomp on it every time you run your fingers through his hair. It sets his skin ablaze when you hold his hand. He can feel his heartbeat in his throat when you whisper in his ear. You’ve picked up this maddening habit of resting your fingers on his thigh whenever you sit beside him, and it makes his cock ache for your touch. How can you not see what you’re doing to him? How badly he wants you? It’s torture. Pretty soon he’ll have ground his teeth down to dust from gritting them to keep from kissing you every time you bat your lashes and twirl your hair.

Just this once he’ll pull the covers all the way back. He’ll take his gloves off so he can feel your bare skin against his cracked fingers. He’ll savour the sweet sounds of your sleepy musings, how you murmur and moan for him when he brushes his thumbs across your nipples, how your back arches as he traces the curve of your stomach and dips his fingers below the elastic of your underwear; he’ll commit it all to memory.

He barely even has to do anything, you spread your legs so eagerly once he gets your panties off. Your slit is so hot and wet, his fingers glide between your lips. He should slow down, should make sure he’s not disturbing you, but your body responds so well to him, your pussy swallowing up his digits with no resistance. You’re just begging for him.

He shakes as he works his belt open. Soft whimpers of his own escape his lips, delicate sounds he’d loathe for you to hear as he palms his length, rubbing it with your slick before lining it up with your needy entrance.

Just this once, to get you out of his system.

#anon #jason todd/reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood/reader #red hood x reader #red hood #reader insert #f reader #nsft #tw somno

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shysuccubusstuff · 2 days ago

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Yandere! Mr. Scarletella:

Content: violence + stalking + voyerism + picture taking + masturbation + stealing + break of privacy + neutral reader + tampering with your food + noncon content + Stockholm syndrome. + mindbreak.

Summary: Human! Scarletella just wasn't able to stop himself from stalking falling in love with such an amazing person, God, he just loves stealing borrowing your stuff!

Note: So, I just had to write something about this amazing game, feel free to check it out and support the creator!!

SFW:

Yandere! Scarletella who fell in love since the first time he saw you around university, always being around those other guys... But he knew he just had to wait, yeah, wait for the right moment to approach you.

Yandere! Scarlatella who keeps randomly appearing on your classes from time to time. Oh, he isn't even in your course, but taking a few extra classes or even skipping some of his is no issue for him.

Yandere! Scarlatella who makes sure to get close enough so he can steal a few things from you while in class, sometimes it's your old pencil, other times he just takes whatever has touched your hand that class. That includes waiting until the university is closing to take your thrown away coffe cup (it still has your salive, so he has definitely kissed you, right?).

Yandere! Scarlatella who keeps on appearing on your daily life, you try to act as if the constant encounters are just mere coincidences, not like he even tried to strike up a conversation with you, so there must be no danger, right?

Yandere! Scarlatella who sometimes follows you back to your doorm. He always makes sure to walk quite far away from you trying to avoid freaking you out as he knows it would affect your daily routine.

Yandere! Scarlatella who climbs up the tree just to be able to catch a glimpse of your face while you're sleeping. You look so beautiful with your lips sligthly parted! ♡ You don't know it, but he has found a way of opening your window while you're sleeping. When he feels extra bold, he lets himself run his fingers through your soft lips feeling your warm breath is just enough to get him hot and bothered ♡.

Yandere! Scarlatella who begins to be feared by all your friends. They keep warning you about him, but it's not like you have any proof of what he's doing, such a shame :(( jk. He made sure to state his point, beating your poor friends to a pulp if he saw them getting a bit too close to you, he made sure to leave no visible marks, he doesn't want you worrying your pretty little head.

Yandere! Scarlatella who loses it after seeing that creepy long-haired guy far too close to you, if you wanted him to kidnap take you with him already you could've just said so dummy! Of course he wastes no time taking you from those filthy guys. You will be safe with him ♡.

Yandere! Scarlatella who breaks your poor mind after being trapped several months. Maybe being taken care of isn't so bad, right?

NSFW:

Yandere! Scarlatella who masturbates to your sleeping face, his tip being dangerously close to your lips. He can't stop imagining them surrounding his lenght...♡ He knows he has to keep patient but each day it becomes harder to act neutral.

Yandere! Scarlatella who takes photos of your clothed cunt for his collection. This collection includes many versions, from more tame ones (you smiling) to less... ethical ones (your sleeping face).

Yandere! Scarlatella who robs your underwear while you sleep. He just needs some... extra motivation. So he uses them, wrapping them around his cock as he keeps moving his hand up and down, making sure to stain your poor underwear with his sperm. He makes sure to clean them throughly before giving them back to you, although he sometimes wishes he could just cum inside the underwear you're currently using.

Yandere! Scarlatella who keeps on putting his own fluids on the stuff he feeds you. Most days he keeps it tame, deciding to introduce a bit of his salive on your food/drink, but when you behave extremely bad, he uses his cum, mixing it with your food together with some aphrodisiac, just enough to make you lose a bit of your sanity from not being able to masturbate.

Yandere! Scarlatella who keeps cameras all around his house so he can see you from different angles (all make you look like an angel ♡). He may or may not use those videos to masturbate, just maybe.

Yandere! Scarlatella who begins to use your mouth to release himself as a reward. You were just so eager to be touched! He just knew you were in love with him! It has definitely nothing to do with him being the only human contact for over six months! You let him use your mouth as he wants, forcing his cock into your throat, those sinful sounds filling his room as you try not to puke from his tip hitting the back of your throat.

Yandere! Scarlatella who slowly begins to mark your whole body as his. He started by marking your face with his cum, moving on to your mouth and then to your beautiful chest, the next step was of course cumming all over your low abdomen.

Yandere! Scarlatella who refuses to cum inside of you. He keeps controlling himself by saying that he wants to make sure both of you truly love each other... that's... well. Let's just say that he is just another level of delusion, but don't worry, he would never give up on his sweet and precious darling ♡ !

#fanfiction #x reader #smut #homicipher #mr scarletella #homicipher scarletella #homicipher smut #homicipher headcanons #yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere male #yandere smut #yandere scenarios #mr scarletta #mr scarlatella x reader

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uiharu-and-company · 2 days ago

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Kara may be descended from a race of technologically advanced hyper intelligent aliens, but sometimes humans still confuse her. They speak strangely and often don’t mean what they say or say what they don’t mean. Even after all these years on Earth she discovers that the English language is full of surprises.

For example, when she was only sixteen years of age and slowly settling into life with Danvers family. One day Eliza had offhandedly said, “Once in a blue moon.” When referring to taking a vacation. Kara, young and excitable, hurriedly asked when the next blue moon was. Only to be met with utter disappointment when her adopted mother kindly explained that no, the moon on earth does not turn blue and they didn’t currently have any vacation plans for the summer.

Then there was that time in college when Kara had been calling Alex to ask about how medical school was going.

“Well it’s definitely worth it Kara, even if it costs an arm and a leg.” Alex had chuckled over the phone.

A horrified Kara gasped, “You lost your WHAT!?”

That one had taken a lot of explaining. With Kara going so far as to fly across the country to Alex’s apartment to confirm that she did indeed still possess both arms and both legs.

And of course who could forget the time when Cat Grant had told someone to “Hold your horses, Mister.” Only for Kara to rush in and excitedly inquire about who had horses and if she could pet them. Ms. Grant teased her about that one for weeks.

Or when the baker had told her that pastries were a dime a dozen. Kara proceeded to grab a dozen croissants and leave a dime on the counter. That time was particularly embarrassing. Especially when they chased after her and accused her of shoplifting… She did end up paying them the correct amount and happily took her croissants home.

What about when Winn had said she needed some time to “get it out of your system” when referencing her anger at Snapper. That had led to a panicked Supergirl nearly crashing into the DEO med bay looking for Alex. Who exasperatedly explained how Kara was perfectly healthy and that it was “Just an expression, Kara.”

But even with all the humans she had talked to over the years, no single human ever confounded her as much as Lena Luthor. Alex called it flirting, Winn called it gross, and Brainy called it “extremely long and ridiculous human mating rituals.”

Lena would say things that Kara would puzzle over for days. Especially that incident after defeating the villain of the week where Lena had exclaimed, “You’re a genius, I could kiss you, Kara!”

Kara tried not to think about it, she really did. But the more she tried not to, the more she would lay in bed thinking about it. She thought about Lena, about her strange words, about those beautiful lips that looked so soft and so- nope. Not thinking about it.

Which brings Kara to her current debacle.

It had been a long tortuous week for Supergirl as well as Kara Danvers. Rogue alien after rogue alien followed right behind by a massive workload of assignments she had no interest in. Worst of all, she hadn’t found any time to see Lena that week. Not that it mattered that much- they were friends. It was perfectly normal for friends to go a week without seeing each other. It was fine, Kara was fine.

So here she was, hovering like a creep over Lena’s penthouse and listening to her soft snores and rhythmic heartbeat with her powers. Friends did that, right? They snuck out at night to listen to their friend sleep because they were scared they’d lose them if they didn’t confirm at that exact moment that they were still alive, right? Well, okay, friends didn’t do that, but Kara did and Kara was Lena’s friend.

Kara didn’t know how long she hovered over the city listening to Lena that night.

—————————

Idk where I’m going with this. Should I finish?

#supergirl au #supercorp #kara x lena #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp fic

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harryssyndrome · 23 hours ago

Text

Hoax | h.s

summery: “don’t want no other shade blue but you. No other sadness in the world would do…”

based off this request. Thank you so much anon for this idea, this was so fun writing and I hope it’s something you were looking for. I tried to be as angsty as possible with a blend of cutesy sweet, hope it’s a perfect mix. Let me know in the comments? [thank you! mwah mwah mwah 💋]

Posted on: November 26th, 2024. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY OR TRANSLATE MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM. Like, comment & reblog are appreciated 💓Italics are past memories. Hope you lovelies enjoy this little big piece.

wc: 6.6k (oops🤭) || Masterlist 🤍

Tag-List: @fruity-harry @angeldavis777 @wheredidmyeyesgo | TAGLIST IS OPEN! || REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! 💌

The morning had started just like any other, the sun streaming in through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over everything, but YN barely noticed. She sat at the counter, her hands curled around a coffee mug, its warmth barely a match for the cold ache building inside her. The apartment felt empty, despite the soft hum of the city just outside the window. She could feel the weight of the silence pressing down on her, a silence that had grown more oppressive over the past few weeks.

Harry had been on tour for what seemed like forever now, and their communication had dwindled. What had once been late-night calls and stolen moments between sound checks had turned into rushed, distracted conversations, where he was either too busy or too tired to give her his full attention. YN had always known the demands of his career, had always been willing to share him with the world, but it was starting to feel like he was slipping further away from her.

She had tried to be understanding, tried to remind herself that this was just a phase—that he was only gone for a while, and they would find their way back to each other. But today felt different. Something in the air was charged with tension, a sense of dread that hung around her like a cloud. Harry had promised to call her during his break between rehearsals, and as the minutes ticked by, that sense of unease only grew. She hadn’t heard from him, not even a text to explain why.

When the phone finally rang, she grabbed it with an anxious breath, hoping for the reassurance she so desperately needed.

“Hey, babe,” Harry’s voice crackled through the phone, distant and strained. There was a tiredness in his voice that made her heart ache even more.

“Hi,” she replied softly, trying to keep her tone light, but the worry slipped out anyway. “I was starting to wonder if you forgot about me.”

Harry didn’t immediately answer, and YN could feel him shifting on the other end, perhaps looking for the right words, or maybe just gathering the energy to engage with her. “I didn’t forget,” he said after a beat, his voice uncharacteristically flat. “It’s just… things are hectic right now. You know how it is.”

YN frowned, her fingers tightening around her mug. She knew how it was. She knew that Harry’s tour schedule was demanding, that he barely had time to breathe, let alone talk to her. But it was different now. It had been different for weeks, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

“I get it, Harry,” she said softly, trying to keep the frustration from her voice. “But it feels like we haven’t really talked in days. I feel like I’m losing you.”

The words hung in the air between them, thick with unspoken emotions. She didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want to accuse him of pulling away, but she couldn’t ignore what was happening anymore. She missed him. She missed the way they used to connect, how they’d stay up all night talking about their dreams and fears, how they’d laugh until their stomachs ached. Now, it felt like all they did was talk about logistics and time zones. She wanted more than that.

Harry let out a heavy sigh, and for a moment, she thought he was going to apologize, that he would offer the comfort she so desperately needed. But instead, his voice grew colder, his words sharper. “You miss me? Maybe you miss the version of me that you had before all of this. But I’m not the same person anymore, YNN. I’m just tired. Tired of feeling like I’m constantly being pulled in a million directions.”

Her heart sank at his words, the finality in them hitting her harder than she had expected. “What does that mean?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry’s words came out in a rush, almost like he couldn’t stop them, as if they were coming from a place deeper than he intended. “It means that I don’t have the energy for this right now. I don’t have the energy to keep pretending that everything is fine when it’s not. And maybe I’m just tired of pretending that you’re not asking for more than I can give. Maybe I need space. Maybe we both need space.”

The words stabbed her. She felt them deep in her chest, each one like a dagger, twisting further with every breath. “Space?” she echoed, barely able to form the word, the hurt creeping into her voice despite her best efforts to hold it back. “I’m not asking for space, Harry. I’m just asking for you. For the person you promised me you’d always be.”

Harry didn’t respond right away, and when he did, his voice was tight, defensive. “Maybe that person isn’t here anymore, YNN. Maybe that’s what I’m trying to say.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. YN could hear the faint rustling of something on his end of the phone, the noise of people moving in the background, but it didn’t matter. The emptiness between them felt so loud, so unbearable. The connection that once held them together was fraying, thread by thread.

She swallowed hard, the tears welling in her eyes. “Fine,” she said, her voice breaking as she spoke. “If that’s how you feel, then I guess I’ll leave.”

The words came out before she could stop them, and she immediately regretted them. But the damage was done. The silence that followed was deafening, and the weight of Harry’s absence felt so heavy, so crushing, that she could barely breathe. The person she loved, the person she had given everything to, had just told her he was done. He was tired of her.

Before she could say another word, she ended the call. The click of the phone disconnecting felt like the final nail in the coffin, sealing whatever it was that they had left.

YN sat there for a long moment, staring at the phone in her hand as if it were some foreign object. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Her mind was numb, her thoughts tangled in confusion and hurt. The apartment, their shared space, felt so small now. It felt suffocating. Every corner of the place was a reminder of everything that had once been good, everything that was now falling apart.

Tears blurred her vision as she stood up from the counter. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know where to go. But she couldn’t stay there. Not with him, not with the words he had just said. The love they had built felt like ashes, and she couldn’t breathe in the smoke any longer.

She started packing her things, her movements automatic, like she was on autopilot. Her hands shook as she threw clothes into a bag, not caring if they matched or if they were folded neatly. Nothing mattered in that moment except the urgent need to get away from the place that had once been home. She ignored the phone buzzing with messages, messages from Harry, apologizing, pleading with her to call him back. She couldn’t. Not yet. Not after the things he had said.

When she finished packing, she grabbed her bags and walked out the door. The apartment felt even emptier as she closed the door behind her. There were no more goodbyes, no more promises. Just the echo of his hurtful words ringing in her ears.

YN drove to her parents’ house in a daze, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. She couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened, about how quickly their love had unraveled. She needed space to think. To breathe. To figure out how to move on from this. But deep down, she knew it wasn’t that simple.

It wasn’t just a fight. It was something deeper. Something that couldn’t be fixed with apologies.

When she pulled into the driveway, she didn’t feel the relief she thought she would. Instead, the silence that had followed her from their apartment seemed to follow her here. Even the familiar sight of her childhood home didn’t offer the comfort it once had. It all felt distant. Empty. Just like her heart.

She stepped out of the car, closing the door behind her with a soft click. As she walked up to the front door, her phone buzzed again. She ignored it. She couldn’t bear to look at it. She couldn’t bear to see his name flashing on the screen. The man she loved had just shattered her heart into a million pieces, and she didn’t know how to pick them up.

The night had been a blur for Harry. The anger, the disappointment, the gnawing guilt in his chest from the argument with YN—it was all too much to bear. In the solitude of his hotel room, far from her, he drowned out the pain with alcohol. He knew he had messed up, knew he had hurt her with his words, but the overwhelming pressure of being on tour, the constant demand of being a public figure, and the exhaustion had driven him to the brink. He had never intended for it to escalate the way it did, but in his drunken haze, it all came crashing down.

Somewhere between the blurry shots and the endless stream of drinks, he found himself in a bar, surrounded by strangers, feeling more alone than he had in a long time. His phone was buzzing on the table, the screen lighting up with YN’s name flashing, but he didn’t pick it up. The coldness in his heart had become too unbearable, and he pushed her away instead of confronting the hurt he had caused. He just wanted the world to stop spinning for a moment. He wanted to forget everything that had gone wrong.

And that was when Emily Ratajkowski had walked in.

They had known each other for years, casually friendly in the way celebrities often are when their circles overlap. Emily, ever the charmer, had greeted Harry with a friendly smile. They sat and talked, their conversation casual at first, just the usual small talk about work and life. But Harry, caught in his haze of regret, had let his guard down. The more they talked, the more the words flowed. In some strange way, it felt easy to talk to her—like she was a stranger he could confide in, someone who didn’t carry the same weight of their past, the years of intimacy and history he shared with YN.

It didn’t take long before the alcohol took its toll. Emily’s laughter had filled the air, and Harry had found himself leaning closer, her presence soothing in a way that made him forget the ache in his chest. Before he knew it, they were kissing. His mind screamed for him to stop, to think about YN, to remember everything he stood to lose. But in that moment, he didn’t. The guilt had been smothered by the fleeting comfort of the kiss, the escape from his spiraling thoughts.

He didn’t remember much after that. The night blurred into incoherence, a jumble of laughter, flashes, and fleeting touches. Harry woke up the next morning, disoriented and groggy, the light filtering through the hotel room window far too bright. His phone was buzzing incessantly, and his stomach churned when he saw the series of missed calls and messages from YN. The weight of it all hit him like a wave, and for a moment, he just sat there, trying to piece together the fragments of his memories.

Then, his phone lit up with an alert—a notification from a gossip website, and his heart dropped into his stomach. There, in front of him, were pictures of him and Emily Ratajkowski, the kind of photos Harry had spent years avoiding. They were kissing, their lips pressed together, captured in a moment of reckless abandon that Harry didn’t even fully remember. The headline was cruel: Harry Styles and Emily Ratajkowski—A New Romance in the Making?

His throat tightened as he scrolled through the photos, his mind racing. He didn’t remember kissing her. He didn’t remember anything about that night except the overwhelming sense of regret that now gripped him. He had ruined everything. The fragile thread holding him together seemed to snap in that moment. He had lost YN, and now the media would make sure the world knew it. His personal life was on full display, and all he could think about was how much he had fucked it all up.

Desperation began to rise in his chest, and without thinking, he began sending text after text to YN, each one filled with apologies, regret, and pleas for her to talk to him. But she didn’t answer. The silence on the other end was deafening.

Meanwhile, YN was in her parents’ house, sitting in the living room with the muted glow of the television casting long shadows across the room. The house, once a place of comfort and warmth, now felt suffocating. Her mother had been quiet ever since YN arrived, sensing the heavy tension in the air. She tried to comfort her daughter, offering tea, but YN couldn’t bring herself to care. The weight of the argument, of the harsh words Harry had said, sat heavily in her chest, gnawing at her.

But when the photos surfaced—when she saw Harry with Emily, their lips locked, the headlines flashing across her phone—her world shattered all over again. The room spun around her, and she felt like she was suffocating. The love she had poured into her relationship with Harry now felt like a cruel joke. She had trusted him. She had believed in him. And now this—this betrayal was too much to bear.

Tears blurred her vision, and she quickly turned away from her phone. Her mother noticed the change in her expression and asked softly, “YN, what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I can’t do this,” YN whispered, choking on her tears. “I can’t keep doing this. I thought he loved me… but now… now I don’t know who he is anymore. It didn’t even take him a night to move on?”

Her mother hugged her tightly, murmuring comforting words, but YN couldn’t hear them. The pain of what she had seen—the public humiliation of it all—felt like a physical weight on her chest. She needed to get away. She needed to clear her head.

“I’m going for a walk,” she said, her voice distant, as if she were speaking to herself rather than her mother.

Her mother nodded, understanding the need for space, and watched as YN stepped outside, the cool evening air wrapping around her like a blanket.

The lake stretched out before her, calm and unbothered by the storm raging inside her. Its surface shimmered faintly under the overcast sky, the golden light of the fading afternoon barely breaking through the thick clouds. The familiar sight of it— the way the trees reflected on the water, the distant sound of birds, the rhythmic lapping of waves against the shore-should have brought YN the comfort she was seeking. But all it did was make her chest tighten with a suffocating ache.

She had always come to this place for solace, even as a child. The lake by her parents' house was her sanctuary, a space where the noise of the world couldn't touch her. But now, as she stood there, arms wrapped tightly around herself against the crisp autumn air, the silence was deafening. It wasn't peace she found here today. It was the echo of memories she had desperately tried to bury since she walked out of the home she had once shared with Harry.

Her boots crunched softly against the earth as she made her way closer to the water's edge, the damp grass soaking the hem of her dress. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the faintest scent of pine and earth. But YN didn't notice. Her mind was far away, replaying a reel of memories she wished she could turn off. No matter how much she tried to focus on the present, her past with Harry came rushing back to her, vivid and bittersweet.

She crouched down near the shore, her fingertips brushing against the cool surface of the water. As ripples spread outward, her thoughts drifted to another time, another version of herself-a happier one. She closed her eyes, and it all came rushing back as if she were still there.

It had been a summer evening, the sun setting in brilliant hues of orange and pink.

Harry had been sitting on the dock, legs stretched out, his feet just barely skimming the water. YN had been lying beside him, her head resting on his thigh as they shared a bottle of wine they had stolen from her parents' pantry. The lake had been their escape that summer, a place where the chaos of Harry's career and the pressures of the world seemed to melt away.

"This place is magic," Harry had murmured, running his fingers absentmindedly through her hair. His voice had been low, almost reverent, as he looked out at the water.

YN had tilted her head to glance up at him, a smile tugging at her lips. "You always say that," she teased. "But you're not wrong."

He grinned, his dimple deepening as he looked down at her. "It's true, though. Don't you feel it? It's like... time stops here. Like nothing bad can touch us."

She had laughed softly, the sound blending with the gentle rustle of the trees.

"That's what l've always loved about this place. It's quiet. Peaceful. Away from everything."

Harry had hummed in agreement, his gaze softening as he studied her. "One day, YNN... one day l'd love to settle down somewhere like this. Away from the noise. Just us."

Her breath had caught at his words, her heart skipping a beat. "Just us?" she'd asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Well," he'd added, his lips twitching into a playful smile, "maybe not just us. I'm thinking a couple of little ones running around, maybe a dog... or two."

YN's heart skipped at his words, her stomach flipping in that way it always did when he hinted at their future. She laughed, nudging him playfully. "Little ones, huh? You planning on starting a family with me already, Styles?"

Harry grinned, his dimple showing as he leaned closer, the teasing glint in his eyes softening into something deeper. "Why not? I mean it, YNN. I'd love that. A house by the lake. Waking up every morning with you by my side. Teaching our kids how to fish or swim or whatever it is people do out here. It sounds perfect."

Her breath caught as she looked at him, the sincerity in his words tugging at something deep within her. "It does," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "It sounds perfect."

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her cheek. "You're perfect," he murmured, and before she could respond, he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips.

The world had faded away then, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in a bubble of love and possibility.

“I wouldn’t want anything less than forever when it comes to you.”

His words had settled into her heart like a warm glow, and she had leaned in to kiss him, the taste of wine still lingering on his lips. In that moment, with the sun setting and the world quiet around them, she had believed him. She had believed in forever.

YN blinked, the memory dissolving as the present came crashing back. The lake was still, the air cold, and Harry wasn't there. Her chest ached as she stared at the dock, the image of them sitting there overlaying the reality of its emptiness. She could almost hear his laughter, feel his hand in hers, but it was all in her mind.

The betrayal burned anew, the image of him with Emily flashing behind her eyes.

How could he have said those things, painted that picture of their future, and then so carelessly let it all fall apart? How could he kiss someone else after everything they had shared?

How had they gone from that to this? How had the man who once promised her forever ended up kissing someone else? The image of Harry and Emily flashed in her mind again, sharper this time, and her stomach twisted. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, trying to hold together the pieces of her heart that felt like they were falling apart.

The lake, once her sanctuary, now felt like a cruel reminder of everything she had lost. The life she had envisioned with Harry-the house by the lake, the little ones running around, the forever they had dreamed of-felt like a distant, unattainable dream. And yet, no matter how much she wanted to hate him, to shut him out completely, her heart wouldn't let her. She still loved him, even now, even after everything.

YN sank down onto the grass, her knees pulled to her chest, tears streaming freely now. She thought of the countless nights they had spent talking about their dreams, their plans. The way Harry had once made her feel so safe, so sure of their love. And now, it all felt like a cruel joke, a dream turned nightmare.

"Why, Harry?" she whispered into the stillness. "Why did you have to ruin everything?"

The question hung in the air, unanswered, as the sun dipped lower on the horizon.

She let herself cry then, the sobs wracking her body as she finally allowed herself to feel the full weight of her heartbreak. The lake bore silent witness to her pain, its surface rippling gently as if trying to offer her some semblance of comfort.

The lake, once her sanctuary, now felt like a graveyard for their love.

When she returned to the house, her heart felt heavy, each step laden with the weight of everything she was feeling. But it wasn't the emptiness of the house that grabbed her attention; it was the faint sound-the small, deliberate taps against the window. At first, she thought it was the rain playing tricks on her, the gentle taps against the glass. But when she heard it again-sharp and insistent-her breath caught in her throat.

Her mind didn't even have time to process it fully. She spun toward the window, her heart pounding in her chest. And there he was.

Harry.

He stood in the pouring rain, his face pale, his hair clinging to his skin. His clothes were soaked through, and his hands trembled slightly as he threw small pebbles at the window, as if trying to wake her from a nightmare she couldn't escape. She stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do. Was this real? Was this the same man who had hurt her so badly?

But then, she saw it in his eyes-the desperation. The raw vulnerability. The silent plea for forgiveness that spoke louder than words ever could. He was standing there, drenched, with nothing left to lose. He was a broken man, and in that moment, she could see that he knew he had ruined everything.

Before she could stop herself, she ran to the down to the front door, threw it open, and without thinking, rushed outside into the rain.

The rain fell in torrents, its relentless downpour drowning out all sound except for the beat of water against the ground. Harry stood before YN, drenched, his eyes wide with desperate urgency, a look of raw pain etched into every line of his face. His clothes clung to his body, soaked through, but it was nothing compared to the turmoil inside of him.

“YN…” His voice broke, as if the weight of her name was too much to bear. His hand reached out shakily, desperate to bridge the gap between them, but she pulled away slightly. He flinched, not from her rejection, but from the weight of his own guilt that seemed to pull him lower with every passing second.

“I—” He took a breath, trying to steady himself, but his words tumbled out in a frantic rush. “I never meant for it to be this way. I never meant to hurt you, YNN. I swear, I never thought—God, I was so drunk, so damn stupid. I don’t even remember what happened, but I know I messed up. I know I messed everything up.”

YN’s heart clenched painfully in her chest. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him how much he had hurt her, how much his words still stung like a constant ache in her soul. But instead, she stood there, her breath coming in ragged bursts, staring at him as he trembled in the rain. She wasn’t sure whether it was the cold of the storm or the pain inside him that made him shudder, but it was impossible to ignore the depth of his regret.

“You do remember, Harry,” she finally spoke, her voice shaking but strong. “You remember everything, even if you don’t remember that moment. You remember the things you said to me. You remember how you treated me. How you—” She stopped herself, not wanting to continue with the painful words. But the memory of his cutting tone, his dismissive words, echoed in her mind, taunting her, making her question everything they had ever shared. “I trusted you. I loved you. And you—you broke me.”

Harry’s eyes welled with unshed tears as he took a step toward her, this time not caring if she pulled away. He was beyond caring about the rain, beyond caring about anything except for the woman standing before him, the one person who had always been his everything.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, and she could see the raw vulnerability in his eyes. “I know I broke you. And that’s the worst part of it. I never wanted to hurt you. Not in a million years. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, YNN. You’re it for me, you always have been.” He reached for her again, but this time she didn’t pull away. His fingers brushed against hers, a tentative touch, as if he were afraid she might vanish the moment he let go.

“But I let my stupid insecurities, my stupid mistakes, cloud everything,” he continued, his voice cracking. “I’ve never been more scared of losing someone than I am of losing you, and I couldn’t see that until now. I couldn’t see that you are the one I need. That it’s not the fame, it’s not the tour, it’s not anyone or anything else—it’s you, YN. You’re the only thing that matters.”

The words hung in the air like fragile threads, each one trembling with a rawness that made Ashley’s heart ache in ways she didn’t think possible. The anger, the hurt—it was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but now there was something else too: hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t all lost.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry. She wanted to push him away, wanted to shout at him for what he had done, but when she looked at him—really looked at him—there was something so devastatingly human about him, standing there, shaking in the rain. He was broken, but there was sincerity in his apology, a plea that reached her heart in ways his words never had before.

“You don’t even understand what you’ve done to me, Harry,” she said, her voice quivering as she took a step back. “You think it’s just about what happened with her, with Emily? It’s not. It’s about everything that led up to that moment. It’s about the words you said to me, the way you dismissed everything we had, everything I gave you. It’s about how you made me feel like I wasn’t enough.”

Harry closed his eyes, a silent tear slipping down his cheek. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way, YNN. I never wanted you to feel like you weren’t enough. You’re everything to me. I’ve been an idiot, and I know I’ve hurt you, but please… don’t let this be the end for us. I can’t lose you. I just can’t… live without you. I can’t.”

The storm raged around them, but the silence between them felt deafening, thick with the weight of everything unsaid, everything unresolved. YN could feel the anger still bubbling inside her, but she also felt the pull of something deeper—the love she had for him, the love that she had thought was gone, but now seemed to flicker in her chest like a fragile flame.

She wanted to stay angry, to hold onto the hurt, but something inside her was giving way.

“Harry, I…” Her voice faltered, the words catching in her throat as her chest tightened painfully. “I don’t know if I can forgive you right now. I need time. I need space to figure this out.” She shook her head, unable to meet his eyes as the tears finally spilled over, mingling with the rain. “I don’t know if I can go back to who we were. You hurt me too much.”

He stepped forward again, his hand reaching for her, trembling with the force of his desperation. “Please, YN. I’ll do anything. I’ll give you all the space you need. I’ll be patient, I swear. I’ll wait as long as it takes. But don’t walk away from me. Please.”

She didn’t respond immediately. The storm had drowned out every thought, every hesitation in her mind, but there was still one thing she knew for certain: she couldn’t let him go. Not yet. She wasn’t ready. Not when her heart was still so tangled up in him, so unable to let go of the person he had once been to her.

“I need time,” she repeated softly, her voice barely audible against the pounding rain. “I need to think, Harry. Please, just… just go inside. I can’t—” She couldn’t finish the sentence, not without breaking apart completely.

Harry nodded, his face a picture of heartbreaking understanding. His heart was in pieces, but he was willing to wait, willing to do whatever it took to prove that he could make things right. Without another word, he turned toward the house, slowly, unwilling to leave her in the storm but knowing that he had to respect her need for space.

YN watched him go, her heart heavy in her chest, torn between love and hurt, between forgiveness and anger. The rain continued to pour, and as she stood there, feeling the cold seep into her bones, she wondered if they would ever find their way back to each other—or if this was the beginning of the end.

The night had felt like an eternity. Each minute stretched on, filled with haunting thoughts and the pounding rhythm of YNs heart. Her mind was tangled in knots, the anger still burning bright, but beneath it all, there was an undercurrent of something she couldn’t deny: the love she still had for Harry. It was the kind of love that had once felt so pure, so easy, but now felt fractured, jagged, like trying to hold onto a shattered glass piece that was bleeding into her heart.

She hadn’t been able to sleep. The past few days, the pain, the betrayal, the anger—it all swirled together in a mess that made her restless. Harry’s words from the night before—the desperate, raw apology—replayed over and over again in her mind, like a broken record. And yet, each time she thought of it, the hurt crept back in. She had tried to push it away, tried to convince herself that she could ignore it, but the reality was that she couldn’t. Not when the memories of their love, of their happy moments, still clung to her like the scent of his cologne.

But it wasn’t just the hurt she was feeling. There was something else, something deeper, something that felt too real to ignore. She couldn’t escape the way her heart still responded to Harry, no matter how hard she tried.

As the morning light began to filter through the windows, YN could no longer stay in the silence of her room. She had to see him. She had to confront everything that had happened and, maybe—just maybe—find a way to heal. But even as the desire to see him grew stronger, there was still that gnawing uncertainty. Could she really trust him again? Could she really forgive him for what had happened?

The house was quiet as she made her way down the stairs, the soft creak of the wooden steps echoing in the otherwise still air. The soft hum of the morning felt foreign against the heaviness that weighed on her shoulders, but she ignored it, pushing forward. When she stepped outside, the cold hit her like a rush, but it was nothing compared to the chill in her heart.

The lake was quiet, still as glass, the air thick with the faint scent of damp earth and fresh water. And there, sitting on the grass at the edge of the lake, was Harry. His posture was slumped, his shoulders drooped, as though the weight of the world was resting on him. The sight of him in this state, so broken and vulnerable, pulled at her heart in ways she couldn’t explain.

He looked so small, so lost.

For a moment, YN stood there, watching him. She wasn’t sure what to do, what to say. But as she watched him, she realized that she couldn’t stay away. Not anymore. She had to speak. She had to let him know how much he had hurt her, but also how much she still cared, despite everything.

Her footsteps were quiet on the soft earth as she made her way toward him. Harry didn’t look up immediately, but she could see the slight twitch of his head as if he felt her presence. His face was blank, his eyes staring out at the water, but there was something in the way he held himself that spoke volumes.

YN stopped just a few feet away, standing still as the silence stretched between them. For what felt like an eternity, neither of them spoke. The tension was thick, palpable, like a heavy fog.

Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore. The silence, the uncertainty. She had to break it.

“I don’t even know where to start, Harry,” she said, her voice trembling just slightly as she crossed her arms over her chest, trying to protect herself from the rawness of the moment. “You hurt me. You really hurt me. And I don’t know if I can ever forget what you said to me. What you did to us.”

Harry flinched, as if each word she spoke cut through him. He finally lifted his head, his red-rimmed eyes meeting hers. There was guilt in those eyes, raw and undeniable. His voice came out barely above a whisper.

“I’m sorry, YNN. I’m so sorry. I can’t even begin to explain how much I regret everything. I was angry, and I was drunk, and I didn’t—” He cut himself off, his hands shaking as he clenched them into fists at his sides. “I never meant to hurt you. Not like that. You’re everything to me, YNN. You always have been.”

YN took a deep breath, her chest tight with the conflicting emotions. She wanted to stay angry, to protect herself from the pain he’d caused, but she couldn’t deny that his words, his remorse, were hitting something deep inside her. It wasn’t enough to erase the hurt, but it was a start. She looked at him, really looked at him, and saw how broken he was. He was a man who had made a mistake, but he was also a man who still cared for her.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I don’t want to live in the hurt and the anger. I want to move past this, but I need to know that you’ll never do this again. I need to know that you’re willing to fight for us.”

Harry’s eyes welled up, the emotion overwhelming him. He reached out then, taking her hand gently, almost like he was afraid she might pull away. “I swear to you, YNN. I’ll fight for us. I’ll fight for you. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. I’ll spend every single day proving to you that you’re worth more than anything, more than the stupid mistakes I’ve made. You mean everything to me.”

YN’s breath caught in her throat. It was impossible to ignore the depth of his words, the rawness in his voice. But it wasn’t just the words that got to her; it was the sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability that he rarely showed anyone, let alone her.

She stepped closer to him, her heart pounding as she tried to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. She had been so angry, so broken, but looking at him now, she realized that she couldn’t just walk away.

“I want to believe you, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “I really do. But I need time. I need time to heal, to trust you again.”

Harry’s face softened, relief flooding through him. “I understand. Take all the time you need. I’ll be here, every step of the way. I’ll prove to you that I’m worth it. That we’re worth it.”

And in that moment, everything felt a little bit clearer. The storm inside her had not fully subsided, but the clouds were beginning to part, and the sun was starting to peek through. She stepped closer, closing the distance between them, and in one slow, careful motion, she placed her hand on his chest. The steady beat of his heart under her palm was a reminder of how much he still cared.

“I’m willing to try,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m willing to try if you promise me that you’ll never let me go again.”

Harry’s eyes shone with tears, and he pulled her into his arms, his hands cupping her face gently as he kissed her forehead, his lips brushing softly over her skin. “I promise you, YNN. I’ll never let you go. You’re my everything. I love you.”

YN closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her. She hadn’t been sure if she could forgive him, if she could ever move past the hurt. But standing here in his arms, feeling his heart beat against hers, she realized that love wasn’t always easy. It wasn’t always simple. But it was worth fighting for.

“I love you too,” she whispered back, her voice trembling with emotion.

And as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world around them felt a little less heavy, a little less uncertain. The future was still unclear, but for the first time in a long time, they both had hope.

They’ll be alright.

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lazysoulwriter · 2 days ago

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Beyond the Frame - Paul Mescal.

words: 2.730

The soft rustling of leaves filled the air as Paul and (y/n) stepped onto the well-trodden path winding through the Irish countryside. It was a rare day off for them both, nestled in the heart of Wicklow, where nature had claimed every inch with open arms. The trees arched overhead like protectors, their leaves shimmering with morning dew. The air smelled of fresh pine and damp earth, a serene symphony that enveloped them as they wandered deeper into the wilderness.

Paul had insisted on this trip—“A break from the world,” he’d said, with his usual lopsided grin—and (y/n) had agreed, eager to spend the day surrounded by nothing but green hills and the soft cooing of birds. The city had been too much lately, too loud. But here, everything was peaceful.

“Hold still,” Paul called, his voice breaking the stillness but blending so well with the scenery. (y/n) turned to see him, camera in hand, poised to capture her. His hair was tousled from the wind, and a boyish excitement lit up his features.

She laughed, feeling a little self-conscious. “Again?”

He nodded, stepping closer as he focused the lens. “I need to capture the light just right. You know,” he said, almost teasing, “you’re the greatest work of art I’ve ever seen. How could I not take photos of you in every corner of this place?”

(y/n) rolled her eyes playfully, but her heart fluttered at his words. Paul’s charm was something she’d never quite gotten used to, no matter how long they’d been together. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Mescal,” she teased back, but she stayed still, letting him click away.

They continued their walk, Paul snapping photos at every opportunity—by the riverbank, where the water glistened under the midday sun; in a clearing where wildflowers bloomed in soft, pastel hues; by an old oak tree that must’ve stood for centuries, its roots deep and twisted into the earth. With every shot, Paul’s smile grew, and every time he lowered the camera, he looked at her with a mix of awe and love that made her feel more beautiful than any of the picturesque surroundings.

As the afternoon sun began to dip lower in the sky, they found themselves sitting on a small hill that overlooked the valley. The world below seemed endless, a sea of green with patches of blue sky peeking through the clouds. Paul wrapped an arm around (y/n), pulling her close as they sat in silence for a moment, just listening to the wind.

“You know,” Paul said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to take a picture that does you justice.”

(y/n) turned to him, brow raised. “Is that so?”

He nodded. “You’re just... you’re not like anything else, not like anything that can be captured in a frame. You’re more real than any photo, more alive. It’s like…” He paused, struggling to find the words. “It’s like the universe took all the beauty it could find and put it into one person. And here you are.”

Her cheeks warmed at his words, and she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “You have a way with words, Paul. But I think you’re biased.”

“Maybe,” he chuckled, kissing the top of her head. “But I’m okay with that.”

They stayed like that for a long time, watching the sun set in soft, golden waves over the Irish landscape. The world seemed to slow down, and for that moment, it felt like nothing else mattered—no schedules, no work, just them, wrapped in nature and in each other’s presence.

As the last light of day faded and the sky turned to shades of lavender and indigo, Paul picked up the camera one last time. Without saying a word, he captured (y/n) against the backdrop of twilight, her silhouette framed by the colors of dusk.

“Last one,” he promised, grinning. “But you have to admit, you’re the best muse I could ask for.”

(y/n) laughed softly, reaching over to take the camera from him. “Alright, now it’s your turn. Let me take a picture of the man who thinks I’m a masterpiece.”

Paul obliged, leaning back in the grass, a content smile on his face. As (y/n) focused the lens, she couldn’t help but think that this—this day, this love—was the real work of art.

And it was theirs to keep.

#paul mescal #paul mescal imagines #paul mescal x reader #paul mescal fanfic #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #normal people #fanfic #imagines #paul mescal x y/n #paul mescal imagine

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pandapetals · 1 day ago

Text

Couple Questions

You and Logan answer some cute couple questions!

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, your an english professor, logan is a history professor

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

a/n: not the usual update but I saw some couple questions on pinterest and thought you know what…im gonna do this because it’s cute. i may or may not also have headcanons for them lol.

What were your first impressions of each other?

You : grinning "I thought he was rude. He barely said hello when I first arrived at the mansion, just mumbled something and walked away like I wasn’t worth his time."

Logan : smirking "To be fair, I had a lot on my mind."

You : "But then I caught him staring at me in the library one day, and I thought, ‘Huh, maybe he’s not as grumpy as he looks.’ Turns out I was wrong—he’s grumpier.” teasingly nudges him

Logan : chuckling "You done? ‘Cause my first impression was that you talked too much."

You : mock gasp "Excuse me?!"

Logan : shrugging "But you had this fire about you. Didn’t take crap from anyone. Thought that was… different." pauses, his voice softening "And your laugh. First time I heard it, I couldn’t get it outta my head."

Describe the moment each of you knew you had feelings for each other.

You : thoughtful smile "I think it was when Jean told me Logan liked me. It just… clicked. All the banter, the little glances, the way he’d hover nearby even though he pretended not to care—it all made sense. Once I realized it, it was like… yeah, I like him too. It was terrifying and exciting at the same time."

Logan : scratching the back of his neck, pretending to look annoyed "She’s makin’ me sound soft already."

You : "You are soft."

Logan : ignoring her "For me, it was probably when I realized she wasn’t offended by my attitude. That’s when I knew she wasn’t just anyone. She was my someone."

Did either of you fight your feelings, or was it easy to accept?

You : snorting "Oh, we both fought it. He avoided me a lot of the time. I overthought everything —does he like me? What if I’m imagining it? What if I ruin our friendship?"

Logan : dryly "You do think too much. Me? I didn’t avoid you."

You : glaring playfully "You literally avoided the library for two weeks, and that’s your favorite place!"

Logan : grinning faintly "Alright, fine. Maybe I fought it a little. Was scared I’d mess things up. Didn’t think someone like you would want someone like me."

You : softly, brushing his hand "You’re an idiot for thinking that, but you’re my idiot."

When was the first time you said “I love you”? What prompted it?

You : "It was after a nightmare. Logan woke up in a cold sweat, muttering apologies for scaring me. But he hadn’t scared me—I just wanted to comfort him. And in the middle of me rambling about how it was okay, it just came out: ‘I love you.’"

Logan : quietly "Didn’t think I’d ever hear those words from someone. But when she said it, I couldn’t stop myself. Told her I loved her right back."

You : smiling softly "And then you called me a ‘damn fool’ for putting up with you."

Logan : shrugging "I stand by it."

Who is the big spoon, who is the little spoon?

You : "Oh, Logan’s the big spoon, obviously. But sometimes I’ll be the big spoon when he’s had a rough day. He pretends to hate it, but I know he secretly likes it."

Logan : grumbling "I don’t need a damn cocoon, sweetheart."

You : grinning "But you still let me."

What’s your favorite quality about each other?

You : "Logan’s loyalty. He’ll protect the people he loves with everything he has, even when he doesn’t think he deserves to be loved back."

Logan : looking at her, his voice softer "Her heart. She’s got this way of makin’ everyone feel like they matter. Like they’re worth somethin’. That’s rare."

You : teasingly "Stop, you’re gonna make me cry."

Logan : smirking "Good. Payback for all the times you make me feel stuff."

Who is the messiest?

You : raising her hand immediately "Me. Absolutely me."

Logan : snorting "Finally, somethin’ we agree on."

You : "Hey, at least I know where everything is in my mess. Your ‘organized’ piles confuse me."

Logan : "It ain’t hard, darlin’. One pile’s for weapons, the other’s for books. What’s so confusin’?"

Who sings in the shower?

You : grinning mischievously "Logan does. And he doesn’t even realize it half the time. It’s adorable."

Logan : deadpan "I don’t sing in the shower."

You : "Oh, so the other day when I walked by and heard you mumbling ‘Sweet Caroline’ under your breath, that wasn’t you?"

Logan : grumbling "I was hummin’ it. There’s a difference."

You : sarcastically "Sure, tough guy. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Who likes horror movies? Who likes romance movies?

You : grinning "Logan likes horror movies, obviously. He’ll sit there, all serious, like nothing phases him. But I swear I caught him flinch once during The Exorcist ."

Logan : gruffly "Did not."

You : "You did. Anyway, I like romance movies. Logan pretends to hate them, but he always ends up watching them with me."

Logan : smirking "That’s ‘cause I know you’ll cry, and I gotta be ready to hand you tissues."

You : rolling her eyes "And yet, who was tearing up during The Notebook last week? Hmm?"

Logan : groaning "Alright, fine. I might like some of ‘em. But don’t go tellin’ anyone."

You : "Oh, your secret’s safe with me. But I’ll totally remind you next time we watch Pride and Prejudice ."

Logan : grinning, pulling her closer "You’re somethin’ else, sweetheart."

What’s your favorite memory of us?

You:thoughtfully smiling “That’s hard to pick. But… I think it was when you planned that romantic getaway for my birthday—you bought me that dress. Or when you wrote that for me poem and gave it to me for Christmas.”

Logan:grinning faintly “You mean the one where you cried ‘cause I wrote you that little poem in the book?”

You:mock gasping “You wrote me a poem , Logan. Of course, I cried! I still have that dress, by the way.”

Logan:chuckling, his voice softer now “That was a good one. But for me? I think it’s our wedding. Just you, me, and those vows I wrote on a scrap of paper. You called me an idiot for cryin’ halfway through.”

You:sniffing dramatically “And I’ll call you an idiot for it again, but only because you cried first. You set me off.”

Logan:smirking “You weren’t even gonna cry ‘til I pulled out that damn lucky pen you gave me.”

You:“Well, yeah, it’s our lucky pen, Logan! What did you expect?”

Hugs or kisses?

You:grinning slyly “Kisses. Definitely kisses.”

Logan:raising an eyebrow “Really? I’d say hugs.”

You:blinking in mock surprise “Logan Howlett likes hugs? Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”

Logan:shrugging, smirking a little “What can I say? There’s somethin’ about you wrappin’ yourself around me that just feels right.”

You:melting a little before recovering quickly “Okay, you win that one. But kisses still come with extra perks.”

Logan:grinning wickedly “Oh, I know.”

Who finds it harder to admit they’re wrong?

You:“Oh, Logan. 100% Logan.”

Logan:gruffly “What? That’s not true.”

You:glaring playfully “Logan, you once argued with me for three hours about the best way to cook eggs—only to realize you were wrong and never admit it.”

Logan:grumbling “That’s ‘cause your way still doesn’t make sense.”

You:crossing her arms “Oh, it makes perfect sense, tough guy. You’re just stubborn.”

Logan:grinning faintly “Alright, fine. Maybe I don’t like bein’ wrong.”

You:“Maybe?!”

Who’s the boss in the marriage?

You:smirking, pointing to herself “Obviously me.”

Logan:laughing softly “Yeah, you think so, huh?”

You:“Logan, who does the meal planning? The laundry schedules? Who makes sure you actually remember birthdays and anniversaries?”

Logan:grinning “Alright, you. But who fixes stuff when it breaks? Who makes sure no one bothers you when you’re havin’ a bad day? Who makes the coffee in the mornin’ exactly how you like it?”

You:softening, smiling sweetly “Alright, fine. We’re both the boss in different ways. But let’s be honest—when it comes to arguments, you fold first.”

Logan:mock scowling “Only ‘cause you give me those damn eyes. Ain’t fair.”

Who has the best jokes?

You:grinning smugly “Me. Hands down.”

Logan:snorting “Yeah, okay. But only ‘cause your jokes are so bad, they’re funny.”

You:“Excuse me?!”

Logan:grinning “Sweetheart, half your jokes are puns. Don’t get me wrong, I love seein’ you crack yourself up, but best jokes? Nah.”

You:frowning in mock offense “Fine, then let’s hear one of your so-called ‘good’ jokes.”

Logan:deadpan “Why’d the history book break up with the science book? No chemistry.”

You:blinking, then laughing despite herself “Okay, that was actually pretty good. Damn it.”

Who is grumpier?

You:“Oh, Logan. No contest.”

Logan:shrugging, unbothered “Yeah, probably.”

You:giggling “You’re basically a walking thundercloud until you’ve had your coffee. And even then, you’ve got about an hour before you start growling at people.”

Logan:smirking “That’s true, but you’re no ray of sunshine when you’re hungry.”

Who gets angry when they’re hungry?

You:immediately “Okay, fine. That’s me. But in my defense, you always know when to feed me before I get too hangry.”

Logan:chuckling “Damn right I do. Learned that the hard way on one of our first dates.”

You:giggling “Oh, you mean the time you forgot to feed me after making me hike five miles, and I almost bit your head off?”

Logan:grinning “Yup. You didn’t even wait for the food to hit the table before tearin’ into me. Thought I was gonna lose a hand.”

You:grinning sheepishly “Hey, at least you didn’t run for the hills.”

Logan:softly, leaning closer “Nah, sweetheart. I’d take your hangry self over anyone else any day.”

#logan howlett #wolverine #fluff #x men logan #x men wolverine #james logan howlett #marvel #hugh jackman #professor logan #professor logan howlett #x men movies #days of future past #professor reader #logan howlett fluff

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